“So…are you coming back to mine?” Lisa had asked, draining her wine glass as she awaited his response.
“Only if you put your uniform on and play the naughty nurse,” Roger had whispered to her, leaning across the table so that the other diners couldn’t overhear.
Lisa relished her role of the naughty nurse seducing her patient. All Roger had to do was lie on the bed and get hard.
As it had turned out, despite his anxieties, he had no problem with either task.
*
Roger lay back, eyes closed against the morning sun, listening to the rhythmic squeak of the bed springs as Lisa rode him. She dictated the pace – fairly sedate to begin with but as the creak of the mattress became more frequent, accompanied by Lisa’s increasingly louder moans, Roger knew she was getting closer to her climax.
He reached forward to stroke her breasts, gently squeezing her erect nipples before sliding his hands upwards, skimming along the sides of her slender neck. He felt the chain of her gold Saint Christopher under his fingers (a present from her parents when she was eighteen – to keep her safe on her travels to university) the delicate links warm from her exertions, and slid his digits down to the flat disc that hung from it, sliding his fingertips over the raised relief of the holy figure…
The wall of the small bedroom was covered in posters of male stars from the worlds of pop music and movies. Pushed tight against it was a bed and, spread like warm butter on the black quilt, her smooth pale flesh contrasting sharply with the dark duvet, lay Lisa; naked, her bottom at the edge of the mattress, her knees pushed up to her ears.
She moaned loudly, her fingers digging into the bed-cover as the bearded young man kneeling on the floor between her splayed legs pounded into her.
Behind him stood three other men. They too were naked, sporting rock-solid erections, each patiently waiting their turn with the eager young nursing student.
The bearded man reached his point of no return with a deep groan, quickly pulling out of Lisa’s vagina and squirting the thick gouts of his pleasure onto her chest. She rubbed the warm fluid over her erect nipples, luxuriating in the sensation before gradually raising her hand to her mouth, a wicked look in her eyes as her tongue played over her shiny red lips. She slowly inserted each finger, in turn, sucking her cum-coated digits clean.
“Next!”
The bearded man climbed up onto the bed, straddling Lisa’s chest as he offered her his slowly shrivelling member to finish off. She took it into her mouth, sucking and working her tongue to devour every last drop of semen before spitting him out with a scream of ecstasy as the second man, much better endowed than his hirsute friend, thrust deep into her soaking wet slit…
Roger pushed Lisa off him, a palm striking her in the face as did so, and ran to the bathroom.
He dry-retched loudly into the white toilet bowl, his mouth flooded with the taste of semen, his brain swamped as the memories of Rachel came rushing back.
He’d clearly just seen Lisa in her ‘wild’ days. Seen her, watched her and been her. He had tasted and felt everything that she had done. Had witnessed her sexual exploits both from a subjective point of view and as a hidden voyeur at the same time.
He put a hand on his lower abdomen. He could still feel the second man’s cock inside Lisa – inside him. Worse; he could still feel the pleasure that both he and Lisa had shared as the man had plunged into her. He retched again, the sensations in his gut growing worse. The sickening warm glow of pleasure was giving way to a blunt stabbing - a rough tugging - as if some unseen hands were pulling at his bowels.
He finally puked, emptying his stomach, viscous threads of vomit dangling from his lips as he gasped for breath, the pains in his gut continuing unabated, the invisible fingers now squeezing as they pulled. The discomfort seemed to feel much worse on his left side, as though his innards were being dragged in that direction.
Rising slowly on shaky legs, Roger turned and leant over the basin, turning on the cold water tap. He breathed deeply as he splashed his face with the icy liquid, the shock of the water bringing a brief, but welcome distraction from the pain in his belly, which was now more centralised, the sensations jerking towards his lower back.
“Babe?”
There was a light rapping at the bathroom door.
“Are you okay?”
Roger’s breath caught fast in his throat.
Shit, what could he say to her? She obviously thought he had pushed her away because he was feeling unwell. How could he explain that he had just witnessed her – felt her -engaged in a student gang-bang?
“Baby? Do you want me to get you anything?”
As he turned to face the white-painted door he had no time to formulate any response, the tugging in his guts suddenly doubling in strength, forcing him to step forwards to keep pace with his insides which felt as if they were already on their way out of the bathroom and heading across the landing.
Crying out in pain, he flung open the door. Lisa stood in front of him, wrapped up tight in her pink fluffy dressing gown, an essay of concern written over her face.
“Are you okay, baby?” She rushed towards him, hands ready to cradle him.
With an outstretched arm, Roger barged past her, barely able to look her in the eye, and rushed into the bedroom to get dressed, the wrenching in his gut growing more urgent by the second, almost doubling him over as he pulled on
