the footing nurse

unbelievable but true, isn’t it? dream sweet away with me. it all happens in my examination room, alast already a while ago. a nurse phoned me for an appointment more to start a conversation about her unfaithful husband than about her nervous heartcomplaints. she needed more a listening ear: her husband had for years now a half-hearted relation out of the house and brought all his hard earned money to his protégé rather than to his family and his wife disagreed of course. not that she couldn't do anything about it - they were married under matrimonial settlements – and they had two children, still studs at the university. because he payed much attention and money to his concubine, he kept lesser money for the greedy tax in a way that his working wife was assessed for the tax of her licentious husband. she was touched by it, knowing that the man in question earned around 1000 € a day.

because of his free profession the questionable man was always on the run and almost never at home, but more at home in his married concubine than in his own house. the husband of the concubine didn’t object against the fact that the freelancer deposited his money and other affairs in her pouch and obvious the couple amused themselves about his credulity an innocent loyalty of the well-paying boarder, he hadn’t the slightest idea or insight in his addiction-problem, despite he was well-educated at the university in the past and mastered his knowledge of psychology. we call that a blind spot. he couldn’t do nothing about his addiction, she was so sweet and dependent of him, one could classified his behaviour as infantile. with regard to the gestalt-psychology we are not surprized by the fact that the man in question was small-shaped and quite uncertain.

she was a good looking nurse with a slim posture and half short or long steep blond hair and bright blue active investigating eyes with some smiling wrinkles on both corners. in a charming way they gave her a certain cachet. and because i had to examen her, she undressed herself and layed herself without words on the researcher’s couch. i examenated her lege artis and when i reached her feet to feel the arterial pulses – i stand at’s couch end – she raised suddenly her legs and let slowly down her feet on my lower abdomen on a very delicate region and she started slowly to massage with encircling movements my good fellow, movements that didn’t leaves me cold in a way that there was blow up slowly a tent in the trousers of my doctor’s suite. my tent peg grew bigger and bigger. she looked at me in a very challenging and inviting way, meanwhile sighing modestly.

and because i had to take an electrocardiogram to be sure, i squirted her torso with an cold solution of isopropylalcohol and rubbed her with my big warm hands to disperse the solution on her breasts. she close her eyes for a while but not before she outed a little cry. then she put her hand on the tent in my trousers, untied the lace to see the tent and to support the rockhard stick. because she was laying down on the couch and me aside standing upright, the tent and the stick looks like one apt for more persons by optic illusion. she shouted: “oh my god” explaining in the mean time that her unfaithful husband was equipped with a minimal toy of joy and that is was self-evident that it was her first time that she saw such a big stick meaning that it was the first time that she committed adultery. i thought:” thanks god” and she greatly appreciated the taste of the good gifts.