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It had taken all of hiscourage to come this far, and even now he wondered if he'd have thenerve to go through with his plan.He paused outside the shopfront's display window, struggling to controlhis galloping heartbeat. The window bore a fifties-style illustration of ayoung woman twirling in a ballroom dress, skirts flying up around herwaist. The logo read: LACE & GARTERS!! SPECIALISTS INCOUNTRY, LINE AND BALLROOM DANCEWEAR. Beneath that,in smaller lettering: Custom fittings available on request.Gazing in through the plate glass, Misha made out rack upon rack ofglittering costumes; gowns, leggings, tutus, leotards--and petticoats.Hundreds of them by the look of things. The sight did little to soothe hisracing pulse, although it did steel his resolve somewhat. Here he was,wavering on the footpath while the object of his desire was virtuallywithin arm's reach. All he had to do was open the door and step inside.A small silver bell rang over Misha's head as he walked into the store.. Even as he got the best blow job of his life- he couldn't let his reservations go.He shivered and glanced down at his girl's dark hair--and saw the knife.Claude expelled a choke mixed with a shout. He kicked her back, kicked the knife back. It left a long, shallow cut along his inner thigh as the girl was flung into the wall."Fucking shit!" He grabbed a pillow, tore the pillowcase off, and pressed it against the wound. "Christ jesus fucking- don't you move!" he bellowed at Renee's retreating form."Fucking cunt." He hissed as he put pressure on it, the pain and anger overlaying his sight in red. He barely pulled the main display up, static and emotion twisting the clear options into blurs. Or maybe it was another error. "Medkit," he snarled at the screen, but of course it didn't work. The bitch had broken its intuition, hadn't she?He jerkily navigated the system manually, and ordered a bot to bring one to Room 301."Fuck," he breathed. He could feel the blood soaking through the cotton..
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I broke the eye contact and said, “Sorry.”“No, I just can’t help it,” he said.“It’s okay, not the first time it happens to a patient,” I said, looking down at my feet.I remembered the many patients I had sucked off back in my days as a nurse, ranging from boys his age to older men.“It’s just embarrassing,” he said.“It happens, it’s common for guys with broken arms and such,” I explained.“Yeah, I bet,” he said with a forced laugh.“You should get some relief before it starts hurting,” I said in a professional tone.We made eye contact again and his eyes told me everything I needed to know. I got up to lock the door, but he must have thought I was leaving because I saw his left hand grabbing his bulge through his shorts when I turned back.“Don’t ever tell anyone,” I said, reaching for the waistband of his shorts.Giving oral sex was something I loved doing but my husband wasn’t into receiving it or much less giving it. Using different techniques to make a man orgasm was so much fun for me,.

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