Afternoon Delights: The Nurse's Secret Ritual
by rogue_sailorDiane had always been a creature of routine—twelve-hour night shifts at the hospital, followed by a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted until the afternoon sun slanted through her bedroom window. The sk
about 3 hours ago
•medium read•intense intensityDiane had always been a creature of routine—twelve-hour night shifts at the hospital, followed by a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted until the afternoon sun slanted through her bedroom window. The ski town she called home was a blur of snow and neon lights, but her real life happened in the quiet hours when everyone else was asleep. That was, until she met *him*—the guy who didn’t have a name beyond *Sleep Helper*, because that’s what he did. He helped her sleep by making sure she woke up thoroughly fucked.
They’d met at a dive bar downtown, one of those places where the music was loud enough to drown out bad decisions. He’d been leaning against the bar, watching her with a smirk that suggested he already knew what her thighs looked like pressed together. One dance turned into three, then a shot, then his lips against her ear: *"I bet you’re exhausted after those night shifts. Let me help with that."* She’d laughed, but the next afternoon, there he was, letting himself in with the key she’d drunkenly handed over.
Now, it was a ritual.
Diane was half-buried under her comforter when the mattress dipped. A hand slid up her thigh, fingers hooking under the waistband of her sleep shorts before she’d even opened her eyes. *"Time to wake up, nurse,"* Sleep Helper murmured, his breath hot against her neck. She groaned, rolling onto her back, and there he was—lean, tattooed, his dark hair tousled like he’d just come from someone else’s bed. The thought sent a jolt of heat between her legs. She didn’t ask. She didn’t care.
His mouth crashed onto hers before she could protest, tongue pushing past her lips like he owned them. And maybe he did, for these stolen afternoon hours. His fingers worked her shorts down her hips, then her panties, leaving her bare beneath him. The cool air hit her pussy, already wet, already aching. *"Fuck, you’re always so ready,"* he growled, palming her breast through her thin tank top. Her nipple hardened under his touch, and she arched into it, biting his lower lip.
She didn’t need to be told what to do next. Diane shoved him back just enough to slide down the bed, her hands going straight for his belt. His cock was already hard, straining against his jeans, and when she freed it, she didn’t hesitate—just took him deep, her lips sealing around the base. Sleep Helper hissed, his fingers tangling in her dark hair. *"Just like that. Suck me like you mean it."* She hollowed her cheeks, her tongue swirling around the head before she took him to the back of her throat. His hips twitched, and she knew he was close to losing control. Good. She wanted him desperate.
But he had other plans.
With a rough tug, he pulled her off him, flipping her onto her stomach. *"On your knees,"* he ordered, and she obeyed, ass in the air, her small breasts pressing into the mattress. His palm came down on her left cheek with a sharp *crack*, the sting radiating through her. *"You like that, don’t you? Being my little afternoon slut."* She moaned, pushing back against him, and then his fingers were there, sliding through her slick folds, teasing her clit before plunging inside. *"So tight. Always so fucking tight."*
She was about to beg when he pulled away. The sound of a condom wrapper tearing made her whimper, but then his cock was pressing against her, not where she expected—his thumb circled her asshole, slick with lube she hadn’t even noticed him grab. *"You can take it,"* he murmured, and before she could argue, he was pushing in, slow and relentless. The burn was intense, but the fullness—*god*, the fullness—had her claws digging into the sheets. He didn’t stop until he was fully seated, his balls pressing against her.
*"Fuck me,"* she gasped, and he did.
His hips snapped forward, his cock pistoning in and out of her ass while his fingers found her pussy, rubbing tight circles over her clit. The dual sensation was overwhelming, her vision blurring as pleasure coiled tight in her gut. *"You’re gonna come for me, Diane,"* he grunted, his rhythm never faltering. *"Gonna come with my dick in your ass like the dirty girl you are."*
She did. Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body clamping down around him as she screamed into the pillow. He didn’t let up, fucking her through it until his own release tore through him with a groan, his cock pulsing deep inside her.
But they weren’t done.
Sleep Helper pulled out, stripping off the condom before flipping her onto her back. His mouth found hers again, his kiss bruising as he hooked her legs over his shoulders. *"Now I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy until you can’t walk to work."* His cock was still hard, still glistening, and when he slid inside her, she gasped at how *good* it felt after the stretch of her ass. He set a punishing pace, her small tits bouncing with every thrust, her nails raking down his back.
The mirror on her dresser caught her eye—her flushed face, her lips parted, her body taking every inch of him like she was made for it. Sleep Helper followed her gaze, his smirk returning. *"Look at you. Look how fucking gorgeous you are when you’re full of cock."* He reached down, rubbing her clit in tight, merciless circles, and she came again, her back arching off the bed as her pussy clenched around him.
This time, he didn’t pull out. His rhythm stuttered, his cock swelling before he buried himself to the hilt, his cum flooding her in hot, thick spurts. *"Take it,"* he groaned, his forehead pressing to hers. *"Take every fucking drop."*
She did.
When he finally collapsed beside her, Diane was boneless, her skin slick with sweat, her thighs trembling. Sleep Helper traced idle patterns on her stomach, his touch almost lazy now. *"Same time tomorrow?"* he asked, like this was just another appointment.
She laughed, rolling onto her side to face him. *"Only if you promise to wake me up like this every time."*
He grinned, leaning in to kiss her one last time, slow and deep. *"Deal, nurse. Now go to work—you’ve got patients to save."* And with that, he was gone, leaving her deliciously sore, thoroughly used, and already counting the hours until he’d do it all over again.
They’d met at a dive bar downtown, one of those places where the music was loud enough to drown out bad decisions. He’d been leaning against the bar, watching her with a smirk that suggested he already knew what her thighs looked like pressed together. One dance turned into three, then a shot, then his lips against her ear: *"I bet you’re exhausted after those night shifts. Let me help with that."* She’d laughed, but the next afternoon, there he was, letting himself in with the key she’d drunkenly handed over.
Now, it was a ritual.
Diane was half-buried under her comforter when the mattress dipped. A hand slid up her thigh, fingers hooking under the waistband of her sleep shorts before she’d even opened her eyes. *"Time to wake up, nurse,"* Sleep Helper murmured, his breath hot against her neck. She groaned, rolling onto her back, and there he was—lean, tattooed, his dark hair tousled like he’d just come from someone else’s bed. The thought sent a jolt of heat between her legs. She didn’t ask. She didn’t care.
His mouth crashed onto hers before she could protest, tongue pushing past her lips like he owned them. And maybe he did, for these stolen afternoon hours. His fingers worked her shorts down her hips, then her panties, leaving her bare beneath him. The cool air hit her pussy, already wet, already aching. *"Fuck, you’re always so ready,"* he growled, palming her breast through her thin tank top. Her nipple hardened under his touch, and she arched into it, biting his lower lip.
She didn’t need to be told what to do next. Diane shoved him back just enough to slide down the bed, her hands going straight for his belt. His cock was already hard, straining against his jeans, and when she freed it, she didn’t hesitate—just took him deep, her lips sealing around the base. Sleep Helper hissed, his fingers tangling in her dark hair. *"Just like that. Suck me like you mean it."* She hollowed her cheeks, her tongue swirling around the head before she took him to the back of her throat. His hips twitched, and she knew he was close to losing control. Good. She wanted him desperate.
But he had other plans.
With a rough tug, he pulled her off him, flipping her onto her stomach. *"On your knees,"* he ordered, and she obeyed, ass in the air, her small breasts pressing into the mattress. His palm came down on her left cheek with a sharp *crack*, the sting radiating through her. *"You like that, don’t you? Being my little afternoon slut."* She moaned, pushing back against him, and then his fingers were there, sliding through her slick folds, teasing her clit before plunging inside. *"So tight. Always so fucking tight."*
She was about to beg when he pulled away. The sound of a condom wrapper tearing made her whimper, but then his cock was pressing against her, not where she expected—his thumb circled her asshole, slick with lube she hadn’t even noticed him grab. *"You can take it,"* he murmured, and before she could argue, he was pushing in, slow and relentless. The burn was intense, but the fullness—*god*, the fullness—had her claws digging into the sheets. He didn’t stop until he was fully seated, his balls pressing against her.
*"Fuck me,"* she gasped, and he did.
His hips snapped forward, his cock pistoning in and out of her ass while his fingers found her pussy, rubbing tight circles over her clit. The dual sensation was overwhelming, her vision blurring as pleasure coiled tight in her gut. *"You’re gonna come for me, Diane,"* he grunted, his rhythm never faltering. *"Gonna come with my dick in your ass like the dirty girl you are."*
She did. Her orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body clamping down around him as she screamed into the pillow. He didn’t let up, fucking her through it until his own release tore through him with a groan, his cock pulsing deep inside her.
But they weren’t done.
Sleep Helper pulled out, stripping off the condom before flipping her onto her back. His mouth found hers again, his kiss bruising as he hooked her legs over his shoulders. *"Now I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy until you can’t walk to work."* His cock was still hard, still glistening, and when he slid inside her, she gasped at how *good* it felt after the stretch of her ass. He set a punishing pace, her small tits bouncing with every thrust, her nails raking down his back.
The mirror on her dresser caught her eye—her flushed face, her lips parted, her body taking every inch of him like she was made for it. Sleep Helper followed her gaze, his smirk returning. *"Look at you. Look how fucking gorgeous you are when you’re full of cock."* He reached down, rubbing her clit in tight, merciless circles, and she came again, her back arching off the bed as her pussy clenched around him.
This time, he didn’t pull out. His rhythm stuttered, his cock swelling before he buried himself to the hilt, his cum flooding her in hot, thick spurts. *"Take it,"* he groaned, his forehead pressing to hers. *"Take every fucking drop."*
She did.
When he finally collapsed beside her, Diane was boneless, her skin slick with sweat, her thighs trembling. Sleep Helper traced idle patterns on her stomach, his touch almost lazy now. *"Same time tomorrow?"* he asked, like this was just another appointment.
She laughed, rolling onto her side to face him. *"Only if you promise to wake me up like this every time."*
He grinned, leaning in to kiss her one last time, slow and deep. *"Deal, nurse. Now go to work—you’ve got patients to save."* And with that, he was gone, leaving her deliciously sore, thoroughly used, and already counting the hours until he’d do it all over again.