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The wheelchair burst from the triage room, barreling down the bright hallway that led to the rest of the Emergency Department. Nurse Martinez’s sneakers squeaked against the gleaming white floor, bracing the chair to keep it upright as she sped her slumped patient around the first corner.

“What’s open?” she shouted.

“Exam 5!” came the reply at equal volume.

Room by room streaked past. Staff jumped aside while Martinez expertly dodged equipment. Carts. Supplies. Rounding another corner, the left wheel rose off the floor before crashing back down.

“Almost there! I’ve got you,” she reassured the patient.

The chair threatened to tip again as she spun it sharply through the wide doorway. Stopping next to the bed, she pulled the gowned patient to his feet, turned him, and eased him backward onto it. She became a blur, tearing off his gown then reaching for pads and cables, placing and connecting them with urgency.

For all her frenzy, the patient was languid, an empty presence on the bed, silent and motionless.

Data blinked to life on a screen. Boxes flashed yellow in rhythm with a low-tone beep.

“I’m going to take care of you, ok?” Her eyes flicked across the numbers, mind rifling through standards of care and protocols.

No time! she said to herself, plunging her gloved hands down the elastic waistband of her scrubs, dragging her top up and catching her undershirt and bra on the way up.

“Come on! Stay with me! LOOOOOK!” she shouted, her thumbs hooking her clothes to hold them above her bare tits. It was an unconventional approach, to be sure, but she knew quick thinking saved lives.

Martinez had seen a few cases like this in her few years as a nurse. A strong, respected member of the staff, she hadn’t lost a single one, which she credited to her body as much as her mind and instincts. Her cinnamon skin practically glowed under the fluorescent lights and her soft curves pulled every gaze to her proudest features. The single nipple piercing glinted in the sterile light like a beacon; the fact that this patient didn’t respond to it meant his condition was dire.

The patient’s eyes drifted. Drooped. The numbers on the screen did too, turning orange, flashing faster.

She jolted toward the open door, her voice echoing down the hall, “Going to need some help in here!”

Red-boxed numbers pulsed an urgent warning. Her own breath quickened. She could feel the cold sweat rising to the surface of her skin and trickling down her exposed flesh.

Three nurses flooded into the room, fanning out around the bed as Martinez rattled off the patient’s status. One dropped his pants and started gyrating; he lifted his shirt to reveal his rippling abs while his other hand ran down his thigh. The other two hurriedly began kissing as their hands groped each other over their scrubs.

“Sir! We’re trying to help, but we need you to pay attention, ok?” Martinez instructed. Her gloves stroked the patient from ankles to knees and her dangling tits barely cleared his toes with each pass.

As the patient’s head flopped from side to side and back, the numbers on-screen slowed their fall. His eyes locked on the duo of veteran nurses–Cortez, an athletic-figured brunette, and Mecklin, a curvy red-head–displaying their hard-earned expertise with this particular modality.

Mecklin put her foot up on the base of the bed, leg wide to show the bulge of Cortez’s hand down her scrubs. With Cortez’s mouth latched on her nipple, Mecklin moaned low, holding her there with her fingers buried in Cortez’s thick hair. She worked her hips, letting fingers slip inside. The sound of wet nitrile clapping a frenzy against her quickly dominated the room.

Responding to the patient’s clear lack of interest in Nurse Mbaga, Martinez summoned him behind her. He took her hips in his hands and leaned forward to start kissing along her neck. Though the patient was more interested in girl-girl, the addition of boy-girl often had a synergistic effect. His hand cupped her tit and she gasped as his fingers gently squeezed her pierced nipple.

Martinez regained her focus, eyes flicking back and forth from the numbers on the screen to the area of impact underneath the patient’s gown.

Shrunken. Pale. Unmoving. Dick Death was imminent if they couldn’t spur his arousal. His intake notes said it had already been weeks since the last sign of life. Martinez knew too well what that meant for his odds.

“What have we got?” a doctor asked, bursting into the room, lab coat flapping as she rounded the bed.

“No arousal for weeks. Critically low markers. Flaccid and unresponsive to visual and auditory stimulus,” Martinez called.

“Ok! Sir, we’re going to get you horny again, but we need you to work with us. Mbaga, I want lights down and music up,” Doctor Zhang directed. “Mecklin, Cortez, get that gown off and focus on his neck and chest.”

Zhang moved to the bedside opposite the pair of nurses, tugging the front of her scrub top until the breakaway snaps gave way to reveal a red mesh bra. She grabbed the patient by the head and pushed his face deep into her abundant cleavage.

“Martinez, I need those hands higher–much higher–get all the way up those thighs and lean into it! Get that blood where it needs to be!”

Staring at the screen, Zhang said softly to the patient, “Come on, baby, really get in there. I want to feel those lips and tongue moving.”

Cortez leaned in, breathing warmth and filthy words along the patient’s neck while her fingertips stroked his chest. Beside her, Mecklin dragged the backs of her fingers up and down the trail of hair on his belly. Mbaga crouched at the corner of the bed, where he could easily watch the screen and the patient’s lap at the same time. The numbers began to slowly creep back up, returning to orange.

With the subtlest of twitches in his lap, the patient groaned and Zhang felt him grin against her tits. His numbers rose, slow but steady, then leveled off.

“Engorgement,” Mbaga called out. “Faint but… it’s there.”

“Tell the OR we’re sending him up,” Zhang said, returning the patient’s head to the pillow. “You’re out of the danger zone but they’ll need to finish you off. You’ll be in good hands.”

“Martinez, keep him stimulated on the way up. He seems”– Zhang looked down, smirked at the patient as he leered at her chest–”amenable. I suspect he’ll be firm by the time you get upstairs.”

“Of course,” Martinez said, taking one side of the bed while Mbaga moved to the other.

Wheeling him out of the room, she smiled at the patient, her tits hanging just over the edge of the bed, brushing his arm with her strides. “You like them?”

He nodded languidly, his eyelids still heavy.

“You’re doing so good. Just keep staring,” she cooed as the trio rolled down the hallway. “Wait until you see what we have for you upstairs. It’s going to be just what you need.”

Mbaga nodded toward the far end of the bed, where Martinez saw the patient’s cock growing nearly to a half-chub.

“The OR is going to love your fat cock,” she said, her voice dropping as she continued, “I’m jealous, actually. It’s so thick. Juicy. I just want to wrap my lips around it.”

His chub continued to grow. His chest labored to say, “Feel free.”

“That’s the spirit, but only Specialists are allowed to do penetration,” Martinez said non-chalantly, stopping the bed while the elevator doors opened.

“I won’t tell…”

As the elevator began to move, Martinez leaned down, “I’d be too tempted to hop on so I could feel it stretch me open. And we can’t have that…”

Her words got him the rest of the way. “Why not?” he said with newfound chipperness.

The elevator slowed and dinged.

“Because we’re here.”

The doors opened to the OR team standing below a large sign marking the entrance: ORGASM ROOM 3 AHEAD ⇐ 1 & 2 | ROOMS | 4 & 5 ⇒

Exiting the elevator, Martinez called to them, “Patient is alert, fully responsive, partially aroused. His speech is still labored.” She didn’t follow the bed as the new team took over, wheeling him through the large doors of the room ahead.

She reassured him as the doors started to close behind him, “I’ll check on you after they finish.”

The music that filled the room could only be described as pornographic. A warm glow flickered with the candles that lined the walls of the moody space. Unlike the standard-fit scrubs of the nurses downstairs, the ones here were skintight with a satin sheen.

The specialist stood in the middle of the room, waiting for the crew to deliver the bed to her feet. Her labcoat did nothing to hide the fact that she was naked underneath. As the bed rolled to a stop inches from her feet, her assessment was decisive and her orders came quickly, with nurses scrambling to fulfill them.

“Sit him up.” “Apply cock ring.” “Introduce suction.” “Stand by with lube and a condom.”

While the Emergency Department had done their work of sparking arousal, they rarely spent the time and effort to develop it like specialists desired. And Dr. Kovic was particularly demanding. She had little interest in any cock that wasn’t at its full potential. A cock ring and a suction tube would assure that its physical peak would be reached in short order and remain through the conclusion of the procedure.

A nurse caught the patient’s eyes darting around and placed her hand on his shoulder, “You just relax. If there’s anything you need, let me know. Dr. Kovic is the best. She’ll fix you up and have you out of here in no time.”

“Uh, straps?!” Kovic scolded.

“Sorry, doctor,” one of the nurses said, bounding for the row of organizer carts against the wall. She pulled open a drawer and returned with a pair of soft restraints normally used for an out-of-control patient. She lashed them to the sides of the bed so they dangled halfway to the floor. “Straps in place. Anything else, doctor?”

Kovic stood beside the bed, watching the suction tube’s progress. “I think we’re about ready. Kiera, you can remove the suction and finish the prep. Lube, condom, lube, please. Plenty of room in the tip because he’s going to be very full. Stace, help me with my coat?”

A nurse scrambled over, grabbing the shoulders of Kovic’s labcoat so she could step out of it.

“Mind if I call you ‘stud’? You look like a stud.”

“No, ma’am–doctor, sorry,” he huffed, already fading from his treatment downstairs. His eyes hung on Dr. Kovic’s tall, fit figure, from her cropped platinum hair to the meticulously-kept white nails on her fingers and toes.

“Any questions before I start, stud?”

Confusion was written on his face, but he only had the energy for acceptance. And gawking. He could try to make sense of all this later. He shook his head.

Kovic turned to his erection, standing tall in his lap, clad in latex and dripping with lube. Her foot was already nestled in the hanging restraint, pulling it taut and testing its anchoring. “Ready?”

His eyelids drooped as he nodded.

“You’re welcome to use your hands–just don’t be rough. Otherwise, relax and enjoy!” With acrobatic grace and surgical precision, Kovic kicked her other leg high, swept it over him, caught the restraint on the other side with her toes, and brought herself down gently with perfect hands-free alignment.

His groan was delayed. The feeling hit him before he realized what happened.

Kovic hadn’t just mounted him, she had mounted him.

“That’s right, stud. Only one cure for such an extreme case of chronic arousal deficiency.” She leaned in, speaking the word directly on his lips with an emphatic puff, “Me.”

Her walls were as tight around him as they were hot. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt something so good, but that’s exactly what caused his ailment.

She shifted in her stirrups, knees bracing against the edge of the bed, and pressed her tits to his chest. Her hips rose behind her, bouncing at the top of her stroke, the tightness of her entrance rubbing on his frenulum.The bed creaked as a long stroke buried him deep, then she returned to his tip for another burst of rapid, focused bounces.

“Don’t I feel so good?” she whispered in his ear. “I’ve got the kind of pussy a stud like you needs. Perfect for that fat cock of yours, isn’t she?”

The patient murmured in response, but his hands showed early signs of vitality. His fingers twitched against her knees then brushed higher on her thighs. He could feel her muscles flexing beneath her soft skin as she alternated her short and long strokes.

Her legs swinging forward, stirrups snapping tight, she shifted to a reclined posture. A hand behind her for leverage, her hips grinded brutal slow circles on him.

His eyes widened at the view of her athletic build writhing atop his lap, the points of her small round tits swaying above the rippling muscles of her torso and a narrow landing strip that called his attention lower. Her prominent clit, reddish pink and pointing at him, framed by her splayed hood. A pair of lips pulled wide and flat by her stance. Another split by his cock, dragging creamy wetness up and down thin, beige latex.

“This is a much better view, isn’t it?” Kovic purred. She bit her lip and let her eyes slide shut, her breath growing audible. Every movement was precise, calculated for optimal pressure, friction, and speed. She glared at him with fierce intensity, watching his face for clues about his progression. Rolling her hips to increase the pressure, she ran her g-spot in circles over his tip and gave in to a guilty moan.

His hands leaped for her tits. With her nipples against his palms, his fingers stroked and squeezed, enjoying their warmth and softness and they way they fit his hands so perfectly.

“Thank you, stud. You feel so good on me. And in me. How about I finish you off and send you on your way to recovery?”

“Ungh,” he mumbled, his brain foggy, still trying to catch up so it could process all of the sensations. “Yeah. Sounds–mmm–great.”

“I’m going to ride you so good. And all you have to do is give me what I need.”

“Ng. Ok!” he said thinly.

“You can do it, stud. I know you can. Give me that fat, hot cock and a fatter, hotter load.”

Planting her hands on his hips, she sat up to start bouncing. Only hints of her practiced precision remained, buried under a display of physical aggression. Every stroke was a deafening clap with the next coming faster, harder as the bed creaked and rattled underneath. Strands of her once-tidy hair, damp with sweat, fell to her face and stick.

Her breathing was regimented, coming in deep bursts with hissing exhales. “Come on. Let me have it, stud.”

At last, his body was moving, reacting to her treatment. His hands continued to fondle her tits, but now his hips bucked under her. His eyes gained focus, then lost it behind squished lids. His breathing started to fall apart. Guttural sounds emanated from him as her body pounded onto his. His skin became slick with sweat. “Oh, oh my god, I’m close.”

His belly tightened, pulling his shoulders off the bed, sending his head into her chest. His knees rose, his thighs pushing against her ass.

His full lungs emptied with a scream against her skin. Revival. The salvation of release.

And then he collapsed backward. Limp. Silent.

Kovic grinned, letting a chuckle slip out as she dismounted the bed. “God, I love this job. Clean him up and get him down the ICU. And grab me a snack while I hit the shower quick.”

When he wakes up in the ICU, in an even bigger tangle of sensors and wires, surrounded by even more screens, he feels a rhythmic, comforting tug on his cock. He sees Nurse Martinez, sitting at his bedside.

“Am I going to be ok?”

“You’re stable. You’ll be here for monitoring for a few days, but everything looks great so far. You’re going to be fine, but you’ll need a lot of recovery.”

“Mmm. Is that what this is?”

Martinez smiled, shaking her head. “I came by to check up on you and thought I’d give your nurse a little break. Your cock looked even better than it did before. I couldn’t resist.”

He let his head sink back into the pillow as he took a deep breath, savoring the slow handjob. “I appreciate it. You’re good at this.”

“I’ve had some practice.” Martinez blushed, chuckling to herself. “But they’re even better down here.”

“Thanks for saving me. By the way.”

“I can’t take all the credit. It took a lot of us. Your cock has really gotten around in the two days you’ve been here.”

“You’re the one who came back to visit…”

Martinez looked around before leaning in. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I may have been thinking about it. A lot.” Her tone shifted again, quickly adding, “Out of concern for you, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Do you… have anyone to help you with your recovery? It’s going to be quite a process. Long. Hard. It will feel like quite a stretch.”

“Not really. Can you recommend anyone?”

Her eyes dropped, bashful in their aimless wandering. “I might.”