The Player Nurse

Diane wiped the sweat from her brow after a grueling twelve-hour shift in the ER, the fluorescent lights buzzing like angry hornets overhead. The hospital in this posh ski town never slept, especially not during flu season when every bed was occupied by someone hacking up a lung or worse. She clocked out, her scrubs clinging to her skin, and there he was—Jake, the Player Nurse, leaning against the nurses' station with that signature smirk. He was a travel nurse, rotating through contracts like a pro skier hitting the slopes, but he'd been around long enough for Diane to notice the way his eyes lingered on her curves when no one was looking.

"Hey, Diane, you look like you could use a drink. Or ten," Jake said, his voice low and teasing, cutting through the post-shift chatter. He was cute in that rugged way—tall, broad-shouldered, with a jawline that screamed trouble and eyes that promised fun. They'd bantered during shifts, him cracking jokes to lighten the mood when a patient coded or the docs got snippy. Mutual attraction simmered there, unspoken but electric.

She laughed, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease. "Fuck yeah, I could. Lead the way."

They ended up at a dive bar tucked away from the tourist traps, the kind where locals nursed beers and the jukebox played forgotten rock anthems. One drink turned into three, stories flowing about botched IVs and midnight emergencies. Jake's hand brushed hers as he passed a shot, and Diane felt that familiar spark—adventurous after a long week, just like always. She leaned in closer, her knee pressing against his under the table.

By the time they stumbled out into the crisp mountain air, the chemistry had ignited. His apartment was a short cab ride away, a generic rental with a view of snow-capped peaks that neither of them bothered to appreciate. They barely made it through the door before his mouth was on hers, hands roaming with the urgency of pent-up frustration. Diane's scrubs hit the floor first, followed by his shirt, revealing the taut muscles from hours in the gym between shifts.

"Fuck, I've wanted this," Jake growled, backing her against the kitchen counter. His fingers hooked into her panties, yanking them down as she kicked off her shoes. Diane's breath hitched when she felt him—thick, hard, pressing against her thigh through his jeans. She reached down, palming his cock, and smirked at its girth. "Big boy, huh?"

He chuckled, unzipping with one hand while the other cupped her breast, thumb circling her nipple until it pebbled. They didn't waste time on niceties; this was steam-blowing, pure and simple. Diane hopped onto the counter, legs spreading as he stepped between them, his mouth trailing hot kisses down her neck to her collarbone. She arched when he sucked on her tit, teeth grazing just enough to send a jolt straight to her pussy.

Jake dropped to his knees, hooking her legs over his shoulders. His tongue was relentless, lapping at her folds with broad strokes before zeroing in on her clit. Diane gripped his hair, moaning as he sucked the sensitive nub, two fingers sliding inside her slick heat. He curled them, hitting that spot that made her thighs quake. "God, you taste good," he murmured against her, the vibration pushing her closer to the edge.

She came hard, grinding against his face, her juices coating his chin. But Jake wasn't done. He stood, freeing his cock—thick as her wrist, veined and throbbing. Diane's eyes widened; it was bigger than she'd imagined during their flirty glances at work. He rolled on a condom (safety first, even in the heat), then positioned himself at her entrance, teasing her with the head.

"Want it?" he asked, voice rough.

"Fuck me," she demanded, pulling him in.

He thrust deep in one go, stretching her wide. Diane gasped, the fullness bordering on overwhelming, but she loved it—passionate, nothing average about this. They set a rhythm, her nails digging into his back as he pounded into her, the counter rattling. Sweat slicked their skin, her tits bouncing with each slam. Jake's hand slipped between them, rubbing her clit in tight circles, and she clenched around him, another orgasm building fast.

"Shit, you're tight," he grunted, hips snapping harder. He pulled out suddenly, flipping her around to bend her over the counter. Diane braced herself, ass up, and he entered her from behind, the new angle letting him go deeper. His thumb circled her asshole, teasing the rim, and she pushed back, encouraging him. "You like that?"

"Yeah," she breathed, the dirty thrill making her wetter. He spat on his fingers, working one into her ass while he fucked her pussy, the dual sensation driving her wild. They came together—Diane first, her walls pulsing, milking him until he groaned and filled the condom.

That night set the tone for the next month. Casual, no strings, but intense. They'd sneak quickies in the hospital supply closet during breaks—Diane on her knees, sucking his thick dick until he came down her throat, or him fingering her to a silent orgasm against the shelves. After shifts, they'd hit bars or his place, exploring every inch. One evening, after a particularly rough day with a multi-car pileup, Diane showed up at his door frisky from a couple glasses of bold red wine she'd knocked back at home. Jake greeted her naked, cock already half-hard, and they didn't make it to the bedroom.

He laid her on the living room rug, spreading her legs wide. His mouth devoured her pussy again, tongue fucking her hole before moving lower. Diane tensed when he nudged her thighs apart further, but relaxed as his tongue traced her perineum, then lapped at her asshole. "Holy shit," she whispered, the sensation filthy and new. He ate her ass like it was his favorite meal, rimming the tight ring while fingering her clit. She bucked against his face, coming with a shudder that left her boneless.

Jake flipped her onto all fours, lubing up from the drawer. "Ever taken it here?" he asked, stroking his cock.

"Not this big," Diane admitted, but the idea turned her on. He went slow, the head breaching her ass inch by inch, her body adjusting to the stretch. Once in, he rocked gently, building speed as she moaned, hand between her legs rubbing her soaked pussy. "Fuck my ass harder," she urged, and he did, gripping her hips until he pulled out and came on her cheeks, watching his load drip down her crack. "Look at that," he said, voice husky, smearing it with his thumb. Diane glanced back in the mirror across the room, the sight making her pulse with arousal.

Their routine continued—oral marathons where she'd deepthroat him until her jaw ached, him returning the favor by burying his face in her pussy for what felt like hours. Anal became a staple; he'd fuck her ass while she rode a vibrator on her clit, or bend her over the balcony railing at night, the cool air on her skin contrasting his hot thrusts. Always, he'd watch his cum—bareback after the first few times, both tested and trusted—drip from her holes, fingering it back in or licking it clean. It was raw, uninhibited, and Diane assumed it was exclusive. They weren't dating, sure, but friends with benefits didn't mean sharing, right?

A month in, Diane hit a lively bar in town with a few girlfriends, the place packed with after-ski crowds shaking off the powder dust. She was sipping a vodka soda, feeling sexy in a tight black dress that hugged her hips, when she spotted Annette on the dance floor. Annette was another nurse from the hospital—brunette, curvy, with a laugh that cut through the noise. They crossed paths at work, swapping shifts and stories, and occasionally bumped into each other at these spots, both fun-loving types who played hard after the hospital grind.

"Diane! Get over here," Annette called, waving her over mid-twirl. They hugged, bodies pressing in the crowd, and soon grabbed drinks at a high-top table. A couple rounds in, the conversation turned juicy—work gossip, bad dates, the usual.

"So, anyone fun lately?" Diane asked, leaning in.

Annette grinned, cheeks flushed from the booze. "Oh, you know that travel nurse, Jake? The Player? We've been... hanging out."

Diane's stomach flipped. "Wait, Jake? Like, the cute one with the smirk?"

"Yeah," Annette said, eyes lighting up. "Started a month ago. After a shift, he asked me for a drink, and boom—best fuck of my life. That dick? Thick as hell. Stretches you just right."

Diane laughed, but it was edged with surprise. "No way. Same here. Exactly a month ago."

Annette's jaw dropped, then she burst out laughing. "You're shitting me. Both of us?"

They clinked glasses, the shock morphing into something else—curiosity, then heat. "Tell me everything," Diane said, voice dropping.

Annette leaned closer, the bar's thump of bass underscoring her words. "First time, he ate me out like a starving man. But the real shock? He loves ass play. Went down on my asshole after fingering me, tongue everywhere. Made me come so hard I saw stars. Then he fucked me, came inside, and just... watched it drip out. Said it was hot, pushed it back in with his fingers."

Diane's core tightened, nipples hardening under her dress. "Fuck, same. He's obsessed with that. Did anal with him last week—his cock's so big, it burned at first, but then... god. And yeah, the cum thing. He makes you squat over him sometimes, lets it run out while he jerks off."

Annette bit her lip, shifting in her seat. "He's got me bent over his couch more times than I can count. Oral's insane—sucks my clit until I squirt, then flips me for more. And the anal? He lubes up, goes slow, but once you're taking it all, he rails you. Came in my ass once, pulled out, and licked it clean. Dripping cum and all."

Diane felt a rush of wetness between her legs, the shared stories painting vivid pictures. They weren't mad, not really—put off that he was playing the field, sure, but turned on by the overlap. Imagining his thick cock sliding into Annette the way it did her, filling her with loads of cum... it was twisted, but hot. "He's good, isn't he? Makes you laugh one minute, then fucks you senseless."

"Totally," Annette agreed, her hand brushing Diane's thigh accidentally—or not—in the crowded space. "Kinda pissed he's sleeping around, but damn, that dick. I'm not stopping until he bails on his contract."

Diane nodded, a sly smile forming. "Same. Let's keep the secret, swap more stories later?"

"Deal." They danced after that, bodies close in the press of the crowd, the air thick with unspoken tension. Diane felt empowered, her sexual freedom buzzing—adventurous, just like after a long week.

A month later, Jake announced his next contract, packing up for a gig across the state. No drama, just a final fuck—him eating Diane's pussy and ass until she came twice, then pounding her from behind, coming deep in her pussy while watching the drip in the mirror. "Gonna miss this," he said, kissing her shoulder.

"Me too," she replied, but inside, she was already looking forward.

At work, things shifted subtly. Diane and Annette exchanged knowing glances during handoffs— a wink over a chart, a shared smirk in the break room. One slow afternoon, Annette cornered her in the supply closet, the same one Diane had used with Jake. "Heard he left with a bang?" she whispered, voice playful.

Diane grinned, stepping closer. "You could say that. Your turn to spill the last details?"

Annette's eyes sparkled. "Only if you show me what he liked." Her hand grazed Diane's hip, tentative but bold.

The door clicked shut. Diane didn't pull away. Annette's lips met hers, soft at first, then hungry. They stripped efficiently—scrubs pooling at their feet—bodies pressing skin to skin. Annette's tits were full, nipples dark and erect; Diane's hand cupped one, pinching as Annette moaned into her mouth.

They sank to the floor, Annette on her back, legs spread. Diane kissed down her body, lingering on her stomach before diving in. Her tongue flicked Annette's clit, tasting the salt of her arousal. "Like this?" Diane murmured, echoing Jake's style.

"Fuck, yes," Annette gasped, fingers in Diane's hair. Diane sucked and lapped, sliding two fingers into her wet pussy, curling them. Annette bucked, coming with a muffled cry, her juices flooding Diane's mouth.

Annette flipped them, eager to reciprocate. She spread Diane's ass cheeks, tongue tracing the same path Jake had loved. Diane shivered, pushing back as Annette rimmed her, the wet heat making her clit throb. "Eat my ass," Diane whispered, and Annette did, probing deep while fingering her pussy.

They scissored next, pussies grinding slick and hard, clits rubbing in rhythm. Diane came first, the friction intense, followed by Annette's shuddering release. No cum to watch drip, but they fingered each other after, sharing the mess on their lips in a deep kiss.

From then on, work got a lot more interesting. Diane and Annette's glances turned to stolen moments—quick oral in empty rooms, anal play with fingers and toys smuggled in bags. They laughed about Jake over coffee, his thick cock a fond memory, but their connection? That was the real fun, playful and free, turning the hospital grind into something wickedly satisfying. In a town full of slopes and secrets, they'd found their own peak.