Welcome to Sunday Snog. This week a smooch from Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse which is currently just 99p on Amazon UK
Back cover information
When scalpels are set down, the ward lights turned off and the patients asleep, there is always time for Mischief …
I guess you could call me a jack-of-all-trades nurse. I find work satisfaction in whichever department the hospital needs me most, as long as it’s through the darkest hours.
But it’s so often the quieter night time where the real high jinx abound.
With a weakness for sexy guys wearing white coats, my fantasies are often realised and I’m adept at finding relief from the hospital grind in shadowy corners and cosy linen cupboards.
Of course my dedication to patient comfort is paramount. What kind of nurse would I be if it wasn’t?
But when one act of extreme, albeit highly inappropriate, kindness forced me to become the hospital director’s snitch, the length I went to in order to keep my job, satisfied my desires and found me the love that had always evaded me.
A love that made me push even my not-so-professional boundaries to the extreme.
‘So how long have you got?’ he asked, a naughty smile tugging his lips and his smoky-blue eyes twinkling.
I raised my eyebrows. ‘No time at all. Change of plan, I have to get straight back, sorry.’
‘Ah, Sharon,’ he said, frowning. ‘Why do you go and tease me like that? You know how much I look forward to your visits. They’re the only thing that keeps me going in this lifeless place.’
‘Sorry.’ I glanced down his body. Through his uniform – dark-navy trousers and shirt – Tom’s well-defined muscles could be made out, as could a fantastically long wedge of flesh behind his fly.
My pussy clenched as I remembered last week when I’d paid him a visit. He’d bent me over the desk and rammed himself into me for nearly an hour. It had been so damn hard to walk back onto the orthopaedic ward I’d actually considered nicking a pair of crutches.
I hitched in a breath, knowing I wouldn’t be able to keep up my pretence for more than another few seconds. Tom’s big dick and his skilful use of it was too damn irresistible. ‘The ward is crazy busy.’
He reached for me but I stepped away. ‘Just a kiss and a quick grope then, to keep me going.’
Quickly I moved even further away, towards the autopsy room. ‘Ha, ha,’ I said gleefully. ‘Just kidding, I’m on my break now.’
He flattened his lips into a tight line, as if holding back a broad smile, though at the same time narrowing his eyes as though furious with me. ‘You little minx,’ he said. ‘You’ll pay for that.’
‘Only if you can catch me.’ I darted into the autopsy room, dark except for a couple of low lights over a set of huge scales. The air was cool and laced with disinfectant.
I glanced around. There was a big, steel surgical table in the centre, a row of cupboards, several filing cabinets and a desk holding an ancient computer monitor.
‘Sharon,’ Tom called, the door shutting behind him with a soft whoosh. ‘You can’t escape.’
‘No, please, no,’ I said with a giggle and ran towards the far side of the room.
He chased but I dodged at the last minute, went to run for the door. He cut me off and I swivelled, found myself barging into the bolted-down table in the middle.
I gasped as the air flew from my lungs, but recovered quickly and, with my hands flat on the cool surface, scooted to the end.
Tom was facing me now, his face strewn with shadows, but I could see the thrill of the chase had flushed his cheeks and caused him to pant.
‘Come here,’ he said, edging closer.
‘No.’ I moved away from him in a circle around the table.
But it was futile; he was tall, fast and strong. Suddenly I was grabbed and tugged to the end, my body pulled up against his.
He pressed his lips down hard on mine and instantly the game was over. Now it was all about carnal satisfaction. With Tom, I was always guaranteed a spectacular orgasm and I couldn’t wait to start riding towards it.
‘Ah, yeah, baby, I’ve got you,’ he said, shoving my coat off and flicking it out of the way. ‘You gonna take it good again? Like you did last week?’
‘Yes,’ I panted, tearing at the buttons on his shirt. ‘Yes, that was so hot, I could hardly bloody walk the next day.’
He chuckled, low, deep and sexy, then kissed me again, the stubble on his chin scraping my skin and his breaths blowing hot and hard on my cheek.
He had my uniform up around my waist now and was forcing me to lie back on the ice-cold table. He stepped between my legs and leaned over me, pressing his groin into the gusset of my knickers.
‘Really, on here?’ I said, slotting my fingers into his hair and drawing my knees up so they pressed either side of his hips. ‘Where they chop up dead people? Isn’t that a bit freaky?’
‘The French for orgasm is petite mort so it’s kind of fitting.’ He was fiddling with the elastic of my underwear, at the juncture of my thighs.
‘Yeah, I suppose, but, oh –’ My words were cut off and turned into a delighted moan. He’d plunged two fingers high up inside me and found my clit with his thumb.
‘Oh, you’re such a dirty nurse,’ he murmured, kissing and licking over my cheek. ‘I bet you’ve been getting wetter and wetter ever since that poor old sod croaked, haven’t you?’
‘I –’ Words wouldn’t come. My brain could only concentrate on his touch.
He pulled out a little, shoved back in and set up a steady rhythm. Small squelching noises echoed around the room, mixing with my panting breaths and the sound of my pulse raging in my ears.
‘I love it when you get so wet for me,’ he said, gripping the back of my neck with his free hand and nibbling the side of my neck. ‘I’m going to really miss your cream, Sharon.’
‘Ah, yes, Tom, please, I want you in me.’
His hand was good, but a hand was a hand. Tom’s equipment was sensational, the sort of specimen that should be pickled in a jar when he died and saved in a museum as a perfect example of the human penis.
‘Coming right up, baby,’ he said, withdrawing and fumbling with his flies.
I shoved at my knickers, gasped briefly at the chill on my buttocks, then kicked the material away. I tried not to think of the bodies that had lain lifeless where I was about to be screwed senseless. Perhaps it would re-balance the karma for this table – if furniture held karma, that is.
Tom was rolling a condom on with astonishing efficiency. ‘You’re the only one that ever takes all of me,’ he said, looking me in the eye. ‘And it feels amazing.’
‘Tell me about it.’ I reached for him and kissed him hungrily as he pressed me back onto the hardness of the metal. He tasted of coffee, chocolate and perhaps a hint of tobacco. He tasted of Tom, which to me meant sex and pleasure and orgasms of the super-intense variety.
To continue reading please purchase Confessions of a Naughty Night Nurse which is available in ebook and paperback and is on special offer at the moment at Amazon UK, it's also available on Amazon.