On a 10+, Dr. Breedlove helps willingly, +1 forward

"There's some lotion and tissues over there on the shelf," you tell Dr. Breedlove.

She laughs. "Just a second," she says. She makes another note on her clipboard and types something into a computer terminal in the corner. She also fiddles with some device she's got clipped to her lab coat, you guess it's a phone or pager or something. "All right, let me set you up, Mr. Forbes."

Dr. Breedlove fetches the tissues and lotion from the shelf where they were taunting you, well out of reach with your leg the way it is. You see her white lab coat has a split tail so it doesn't bind if she bends over or walks quickly. She turns round and hands you the lotion and puts the box of tissues next to your head.

"There you are, Mr. Forbes," she says, her hospital ID swinging in front of your face, clipped to her white coat over her left breast, whose jiggle adds delightfully to the motion of the little card declaring her to be DIDYMA BREEDLOVE, M.D. alongside a surprisingly cute little picture of her face.

"Thank you kindly, Dr. Breedlove," you say. "That'll make it easy for me to take care of myself. Shall I wait?"

"Go right ahead, Mr. Forbes," she says. "You can call the nurse when you're done."

"Thank you, Doctor," you say.

With a palm full of lotion, you start stroking yourself under the sheet. But with the sheet starting out at the level of your navel, your strokes soon shake the cover off, and your hard, slick cock is exposed to Dr. Breedlove's gaze. She stares at your stroking hand as she talks.

"When you've settled yourself, give the nurse a ring. You'll be down in Radiology for one more image. If that looks good we can talk about your course of recovery," she says.

"Th...thank you, Doctor," you say. "You're good at explaining things. Ahhh. I like your voice, you could be an actress. Ah. Do voices. Mmmm."

She nods, her eyes still on your cock. Her face is getting a little distant, her eyes glassy.

"Are you all right, Doctor?" you say, continuing your slippery, wet, lotion-slick strokes. "Maybe I can help you with something."

"Mr. Forbes..." she says. Her cheeks are looking pink.

"Call me Brian, that's fine. Did you want something from me?"

"Oh, no, that's all right," she says. But her eyes are still on your cock.

"You're so good to help me out and let me take care of myself," you say. "I was really looking forward to a homecoming with the missus. Mary's a real angel, a sweet woman, but let me tell you something, every time I come home from a trucking run, it's like I came back from the wars." You take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. "That's where I should be, giving it to my angel babe from behind all night long. Ahh. She's kind of embarrassed that doggie is her favorite, but really it's the old faithful for us."

"That's too bad," Dr. Breedlove whispers. "It'll be a while before you can put weight on both knees." She pauses. You can hear her breaths coming fast and deep. "We have an occupational therapist who can help you with alternative sexual positions and techniques." She scribbles something on her clipboard. "That is, help you and your wife."

"I'd, ah, I'd really appreciate that," you say, stroking away. "Though I s'pose I'm well prepared. I'd almost as soon my honey pie would sit on my face, and she really appreciates a good mustache ride, if I say so myself. Ahhhh."

"Oh," Dr. Breedlove says.

"You let me know if I can help you out somehow, Doctor," you say. "You look like you could use something. I got a couple hands. A mouth. You know. I'm at your disposal, like they say. Ahhh. Or more like at your mercy."

"Oh," she says. "Uh-huh?"