An Angel in White

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Sometimes a simple sponge-bath isn't enough.
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Many Feathers
Many Feathers
10,458 Followers

I honestly don't remember very much. The wet roads, rain coming down so hard and so fast that the windshield wipers couldn't even keep up with it. The appearance of headlights rounding the curve blinding me for a moment, a moment in which I saw the deer crossing the road just in front of the other driver. And then nothing.

And I hate not being able to see, to move. I don't know what happened, or even what's wrong, if it weren't for the sound of her voice I might have given up wondering or even caring a long time ago. Time for me has no meaning, it's become eternal, a prison in a black void that occasionally is softened by the sound of her voice, that sweet melodic sexy sounding voice. And it matters not to me what she even looks like, even if I could see her. It is simply the sound of her that pierces the darkness of my despair.

"And how are we this morning?" she asks in that soft sexy voice of hers. I hear her as she moves about the room, the sound of the Velcro strip being wrapped around my arm as she once again checks my blood pressure.

She doesn't deserve my frustration, it's not her fault, particularly as she seems to be the only one who really cares one iota about me. Even knowing that, I respond curtly. Sorry for that almost immediately.

"Just how the fuck do you think I am?" I ask. "I'm bored. Laying here like this day after day without visitors, without anyone to talk to is driving me crazy!"

There is of course no response to that. Why should she? This unseen Angel continues about her business, notes being taken as I hear her lift the chart that's attached to the end of my bed. "How long have I been sleeping?" I wonder, hoping that if it's the afternoon that she'll massage my body, my muscles. I like that. I like the feel of her gentle soothing touch. Sometimes I fantasize about more than that. But obviously, that's all it is. She is after all a professional, and as such, especially in my situation, why would I even begin to think that this unseen Angel would have any interest in me?

"I bet you'd enjoy a nice refreshing bath now wouldn't you?" she asks.

My demeanor immediately changes. I can feel myself smiling. "I really could. Thank you." I reply apologetically. I just wish I could help her, I know it's difficult for her, or must be to move me about like a rag doll, dead weight in her hands, yet somehow she seems to manage without much difficulty. I can't picture her as some beefy Amazon. That soft sensual sounding voice just wouldn't match. Not exactly sure what she'd look like, certainly no Barbie, a Pamela Anderson perhaps, or even a Dolly Parton, though a Catherine Zeta-Jones look-a-like would be nice too.

I like the feel of the warm wet washcloth as she gently soaps and then rinses my flesh. I like how her hands seem to caress rather than scrubbing me as though I have twelve layers of dirt caked upon my skin. She's gentle, certainly thorough, and though relaxing, I cannot help but feel a twinge of arousal as well. I am only slightly alarmed by that, getting an erection at this point that I could not easily explain away could be highly embarrassing. Another thing I do like and appreciate about her, even though I love hearing the sound of her voice, she seems to know when to say something, and when not too. Sometimes all I want to do is feel her, smell her, and enjoy the simple touch of her hand.

Unfortunately, in this instance at least, time passes all too quickly. Now bathed, refreshed, feeling like a new man, all things considered anyway, my Calgon moment is over.

"I'll come back in to check on you before I leave," she informs me. "That's a promise!" she adds. I wish I could see her smile, I can hear it in the tone of voice however, and somehow see her as Teri Hatcher for some reason.

"I'll be looking forward to that," I tell her, even as the door softly closes to my room.

Once again sleep. Time passes. I can't help but wonder if she came, if I missed her before she left. Darkness prevails and I have no sense of the evening, or even morning perhaps. Only the loneliness to keep me company, which is no friend of mine as I listen quietly to the sounds of nothingness.

It is the sound of the door opening that alerts me I am not alone. But it is done so quietly that I am well aware it's been done in such a way as not to alert me of a presence. Curious, I decide to say nothing. Doing nothing is easy, I can't. But now I am curious for there is no sound, no spoken word other than the almost too cautious, too quiet sound of footsteps approaching my bed.

"Told you I'd come back," she whispers almost too quietly for even me to hear her. I almost reply to that, then feel the touch of her hand upon me. She's not checking my pulse or my blood pressure this time however, unless there's some new method for doing so that I'm not aware of. At first I am shocked actually, even stunned just a little. Not that she's touched me inappropriately mind you, only at the coolness of her soft hand against my bare flesh as it drifts ever so casually along my upper thigh. I tingle in wonder, wondering as I lay there, willing her hand to go elsewhere, knowing that miracles don't really happen, at least not to people like me anyway.

And then a miracle happens.

At first it doesn't even register. Her hand is so soft, her touch even softer that for the briefest of moments, I am sure it's a dream. I'm not really awake at all, dreaming as my now Halle Berry double slips her hand ever so gently around my much flaccid cock. Am half expecting to feel the warmth of a washcloth as she soaps me, wondering indeed if I missed an entire day and that perhaps this a periodic necessary function to be performed that up until now hasn't been. Or again, the feel of Velcro suddenly being wrapped around my dick as some new method for measuring one's blood pressure is applied. But no...it's not anything like that. Not anything like that at all!

And even if it is a dream, it's a dream I have no desire to wake from either. Nor do I wish to say or do anything to alarm her, all I want at this moment in time is to lie there like the rag doll that I am and allow her sweet sexy hand to continue doing what I hope now is her intention of doing.

I can feel myself growing, hardening, becoming even more excited. It is my hope, my own expectation that the result of her caress is producing the results she hoped for. She confirms that moments later once again whispering, her breath only inches away from my now very firm erect cock.

"That feel good?" She questions unnecessarily.

"Oh fuck yes...yes!" I hear myself saying, speaking just as quietly as she as I now realize that her being here, doing this...certainly isn't normal procedure. Sprinkling crackers in my bed wouldn't be normal procedure, but I wouldn't kick her out of my bed for doing that either as long as she continued touching, stroking me the way she was now.

I'd have been perfectly content with the way her hand pleasured me. That electric tingly little thrill that was sending pulsating shock waves of ecstasy racing up and down my spine. Though admittedly, I wish I were fondling her soft firm breasts, once again Dolly Parton's image suddenly coming to mind here, which is when that joyous exquisite sensation became even more than that as her mouth suddenly, warmly and lovingly enveloped me!

"Oh fuck!" I exclaimed ecstatically, not caring if I woke everyone else in the entire wing of the hospital. The way her mouth now caressed me was beyond comprehension, beyond feeling as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure engulfed me. For the first time in a long time in fact, I felt a gentle tingling in the tips of my fingers, not to mention in the tips of my toes. I wished to hell I could curl them, and knew they would be had I not been in this obviously now semi-paralyzed state that I was in. Either way, in my minds eye they certainly were. And at least, my cock certainly wasn't acting paralyzed either, which my Angel in white seemed to find satisfying.

"Oh baby, honey, you're so hard, so nice and hard!" she cooed around the shaft of my cock as she continued sucking, then licking it. More than anything I wanted to slip the entire length of my massively hard erect cock deep into that soft silky recess of her cunt, though at the moment, I was having a hard time trying to image just whose cunt I'd be fucking. It didn't matter though, not now, not at this moment in time. Because time for me had once again ceased to exist. All that mattered was this Angel of mercy's loving attentive caress, this orgasmic mind altering trip into the unknown where fantasies of being blind-folded, bound and pleasured in ways I'd never even dreamed of were suddenly being full-filled, even if some of the props being used weren't of my own choosing.

I wondered briefly if I should warn her of my impending climax. I certainly didn't want to surprise her, or do anything that she might find repulsive or vulgar. But I sensed without asking, without telling her that she knew. If anything, she seemed to begin drawing from me the essence of my entire being deep inside that velvety mouth, coaxing the climax from me even before I knew it had begun. All the while talking to me, mouthing her sweet sounding words around my cock even as she sucked it, draining from me the sudden eruption of white-hot liquid pleasure that exploded in a star-burst of pure unadulterated joy.

"Come for me baby," she mouthed still sucking, "that's it, feel it honey, feel it and enjoy it," she kept repeating over and over again.

And I was. God help me, I was.

For a moment, I must have passed out. It couldn't have been too long, though the next sounds I heard was her straightening the bed, the tiptoe like movement across the room back towards the door.

"Wait! Wait!" I heard myself shouting at her. "Please honey, don't go!"

"Don't worry my love, I'll be back first thing in the morning to check on you again. No worries ok?"

I really wasn't worried. I knew she would be. And I looked forward to that, once again settling back into what this time I knew would be dream. Hoping to somehow perhaps pick up where we'd left off, even if only a dream.

#

One again the sound of voices alerting me to the fact I had company again. Though this time, I did not hear the sound of my Angel's voice amongst them, nor even another females voice for that matter. Just the sound of Doctor's as they stood nearby my bed, talking as though I wasn't even there.

"Has his condition improved at all?" I heard one of them asking.

"Very little, though his nurse did say something to the affect that she'd sensed some awareness in him, but it's been well over three month's now. I'd have hoped that this would have been a temporary comatose state. Now, I'm not so sure."

"What the hell are you two talking about?" I asked pointedly. Neither one bothering to acknowledge or respect me enough to even answer my question. "What the hell do you mean comatose?" I questioned them again. "All we can do is wait and see," he added on top of what I was asking him. "But the good news is, Anna has taken a special interest in him, and she's had pretty good luck with other comatose patients before as well. Though this one's been like this the longest. I guess only time will tell."

"Three months?" I found myself saying, asking. "I've been like this for three months?"

#

"Hi baby," I heard her calling me a few minutes later. "See? I promised I'd be in to visit you!" she told me.

"Hi Anna!" I responded, wishing now that she could hear me. But for some reason, I knew deep inside my heart that eventually, she would.

Many Feathers
Many Feathers
10,458 Followers
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lonelypappalonelypappaalmost 7 years ago
WOW

WOW.......WHAT A GREAT STORY.......WHO SAYS THERE ARENT ANGELS......THINK ABOUT THAT

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
unsure here

I'm not real sure whether I like this story or not. It confused. I don't learn until the end of the story that he still hasn't awakened from his comma. Does this mean that all of this has just been a dream? Is an Angal in White truly meeting with him at night, or is it all a figment of his imagination? Somehow he knows she'll hear him eventually? How? Does she? This is one of the least favorite of your stories that I've read. It is incomplete. The main character is underdeveloped and the heroine is barely mentioned. You should take this out of public view and finish it. Besides it is too similar to your Angel of Mercy story, though that one is told much better. In your work (since I'm criticizing) you need to recognize the difference between 'to' and 'too' - as well as your need to master the use and placement of commas and quotation marks. I can't give you a 5 star here because you don't deserve it this time.

Paxo1944Paxo1944about 11 years ago
Angel of the Night

The compassion shown is awe inspiring, being in this state for three months and feeling the way he is with this angel, must start to bring him out of his coma. I hope the story continues with a happy ending.

ProfDavrosProfDavrosabout 11 years ago
Compassionate story

A wonderful image.

Compassionate story told well...looking forward to reading the rest.

taxpapabobtaxpapabobover 14 years ago
Angel in White

Oooh! Some nice sex that Medicare won't cover! In my six weeks in hospital expected to die I did not get any of this good stuff, although in surgery I had a buxom babe by my head who dipped a lollipop in my mouth periodically to keep me moisturized beyond the effects of the spinal. In recovery I was cared for all night -- by a gay nurse. Maybe next time I'll get my flute tootled. Thanks for another tickler, Bro Feathers.

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