Episode Six: Feelin' alright?

In the mid 1990s central London phone boxes were full of cards advertising the services of a variety of women (and a few men). ‘O’ levels, ‘A’ levels, ‘French lessons’ and ‘Strict Discipline’ were the order of the day. The cards were not illustrated in colour but most had line drawings of characters displaying their ample attributes and wearing skimpy clothing.

One particular card was different. It was in every box, every day. It was blue with the words ‘Nurse ****’ in large letters. There was a drawing of a woman in a nurse’s uniform and a phone number. Every day. I looked at the card. The next day there was another one just the same.

Nurse = medical play = my first ever fantasy. It was too much. I had to act.

I surreptitiously sneaked into a box and removed a card. I rubbed away the Blu-tak on the back and slipped it into my pocket. Back in the office, I phoned the number. I was told, “No appointment necessary”, was given an address and the rest was up to me.

A few days later I was outside a West End flat. I rang the bell and a maid opened the door straight into a large plush lounge. The ornamentation was elaborate and overdone. A sofa and easy chairs faced a coffee table and a television sat in the corner. I could have been in Golders Green. I was offered a drink.

“Nurse **** will be with you in a moment.”

The maid disappeared through another door.

I sat and waited for about ten minutes until it door opened again and a slightly harassed looking middle aged woman in a blue nurse’s uniform appeared.

She looked about forty five, or older, and judging by the lines on her face, was probably a smoker. Something about her reminded me of Miriam Karlin in the sixties sitcom, “The Rag Trade” (I kid you not). Not many people remember it now.

“Pleased to meet you.”

She sat down and we began to discuss the matter in hand. By now I had some experience with butt plugs so I though anal play was worth exploring further.

“Righty Ho, soon have you sorted out!”

Nurse **** disappeared for another ten minutes.

The maid reappeared from the kitchen, where she seemed to have been banished to answer the phone.

“Let me show you through.”

I was led into a small hallway, kitchen to the left, bathroom opposite and a large ‘scene room’ to the right. I entered. The room was blue, matching Nurse ****’s uniform. A horizontal bar ran along the opposite wall. There were mirrors dotted about and a trolley containing medical implements, gloves, lube and an interesting selection of dildos and butt plugs, was on the right.

Behind the door an examination table/couch sat beside the wall.

Nurse **** asked me to undress for the examination. I did so and was told to stand by the horizontal bar, stretch my arms to the side along the bar, spread my legs and bend over.

A hand separated my bum cheeks. A gloved finger was inserted into my anus. I remained still, merely thrusting my bum out slightly to welcome the finger.

“Fine, fine,” said the nurse, “You are obviously a born submissive!”

“Come and climb on the couch.”

I did so.

“Not like that, on your front, bum in the air, right up now, that’s better, now hold it still, I’ll be right back.”

Nurse **** disappeared for five minutes.

It seemed longer than five minutes.

If you were crouching on a couch with your bum in the air, feeling like a twat, it would feel longer than five minutes to you, too.

(Of course, I did not realise at the time that the next punter, waiting in the lounge next door, was then receiving his introductory chat.)

Nurse reappeared.

“Sorry about that, now let’s sort out a plug for you. Have a look over here.”

She wheeled the trolley across. The plugs and dildos ranged from inadequate to impossible. She was certainly well supplied. I indicated one that was about the size I was used to. She picked it up.

“Right, back in position, letzbe avenue.”

I stuck my bum up again.

Without further ado, Nurse **** stuffed the plug into my arse. Lube was obviously something she considered an unnecessary option.

I yelped and leapt in the air.

“You feelin’ alright? I thought you said you could take that”, she said.

“It depends how you do it”, I replied.

Nurse **** removed the plug. It felt a lot better coming out than it had felt going in.

“Never mind, let’s fuck anyway.”

I rubbed my sore bum while Nurse **** removed her knickers (that was all she removed) and applied some lube to her cunt. Her own comfort was clearly more important than the client’s.

She picked up a condom and rolled it over my cock. Surprisingly I was still ready for action. She lay on the couch and indicated that I should climb on.

I attempted to commence congress.

Either her anatomy was unusual or our bodies were not optimally placed on the couch.

“What are you doing? That’s not my cunt. Where on earth are you trying to get into?

She manually introduced my member to the right hole. Climax was achieved.

In a flash, Nurse **** was up and off the couch. Knickers were swiftly replaced.

“Lovely to meet you. Get dressed and the maid will see you out.”

I dressed hurriedly, not wishing to hang around longer than necessary. I poked my head out of the door. There was no one around. Where was the maid?

I slipped out into the hall and opened the door to the lounge and re-entered it, on my way back to the front door.

Nurse **** was sitting in an armchair talking to the next punter. They both looked up at me, aghast.

“What are you doing here. Where’s the maid? You’re not supposed to come this way. Go into the kitchen, she will show you out.”

I was shooed away. The door closed.

The maid reappeared looking guilty. She led me to the kitchen and opened the back door. I stepped out into a cobbled mews/backyard area. Fifty yards away the road was visible and cars were passing by.

The sun was shining. My bottom was still feeling quite sore. I strolled away past overflowing dustbins and boxes.