Between The Sheets

COCKTALES - BETWEEN THE SHEETS

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includes THERE'S A CURE FOR ALMOST EVERYTHING by Chrissie Bentley

EXCERPT

“Poor baby. Can I get you anything at all?”

“Yeah, a cigarette.”

I smiled. “Not until you’re out of here.” Mark had been in hospital for a week now, ever since taking a tumble off his roof (don’t ask what he was doing up there!) and, no matter how many visitors he received, the only one he really wanted, ten minutes with Mr Nick O’Tine, was the one that he was forbidden. Not only did the hospital impose a strict non-smoking rule, but his room also seemed to double as a storeroom for every oxygen cylinder the ward might require.

I didn’t know how he did it. I quit smoking a couple of years back, and I can still remember the agonies I passed through – and I was doing it of my own free will. I couldn’t imagine lying there day after day, being forcibly deprived of my little fix. Still, at least they’d given him a patch. I went cold turkey. “Anything else?”

“How about a hot nurse?”

I shook my head. “You’re really striking out today, aren’t you?” I reached out, lay a hand on his as it rested in his lap, squeezed it… then squeezed it again. I hadn’t felt a boner like that in I don’t know how long.

His eyes flickered guiltily into mine. “Told you I needed a hot nurse.”

“You need a hot something.” Purposefully I left my hand where it lay, even after he eased his out from beneath mine, and clamped it instead on my wrist. It was a long time since Mark and I had been lovers… three years? Maybe four. But we’d remained friends ever since, and I think we’d both wondered “what if…” – although what if what, I could no longer remember.

I squeezed him through the thin hospital blankets, and felt an answering twitch. “At least nothing broke down there,” I whispered, casting an eye towards the door to his room. It wasn’t closed all the way, but the way the room was angled, I’d see someone walking in a few seconds before they saw me. But just to be on the safe side….

My hand slipped beneath the blankets, groped for a moment, then touched hot, hard flesh. Mark groaned as my fingertips stroked him gently, and again as I tightened my grip around his shaft and began rolling the flesh back and forth, back and forth….

I loved the feel of him in my hand, marveled at the way my mind seemed to leap back all those years to the days when I did this (and more… so much more) on a regular basis, remembering how far to pull back, how hard to push forward, when to rest and caress his balls, when to scrape a thumbnail across his helmet, and when to go hell for leather, pumping him harder as he started to come….

And come and come and come. It felt endless, a flood that I first felt flowing over my fist, as his cock spasmed in my hand and Mark let out a sigh like I’d never heard him utter before.

I reached for a Kleenex and pulled back the covers.