Chapter 1

This is a story of a young, well-endowed male nurse who nurses an elderly aristocratic lady after she is thrown from her horse. She recovers quickly, and so does their relationship.

I am a qualified nurse who specialises in nursing and elderly care. I am also a qualified physiotherapist and was awarded a degree in nutrition for older people last month.

I am now twenty-six years old, single, and have lived in staff hospital accommodation since I was eighteen. It wasn’t ideal, but it has allowed me to save a considerable amount of money as I want to buy my apartment.

My Mum’s a geriatric nurse. She cares and finds this type of nursing gives her tremendous satisfaction. Mum taught me so much and made my initial training so much easier.

Mum’s a widow. When I was eighteen, Mum moved in with her older boyfriend into a gorgeous suburban villa. Mum had met her seventy-year-old boyfriend in the hospital.

Mum was 35 when she moved in with him. I believe she saw him as a source of financial security and married him to get it.

Mum is tall, like me, with a voluptuous body, who has intelligence, good looks and a body that stiffens any cock.

I detested Peter. He was self-centred and boring. Mum made a compromise. He could give her a lifestyle you dream about. That’s what Mum wanted.

Mum and I were close. We talked and texted every day.

One day, Mum said to me, “Peter will not last forever, Barry. I know what I’m doing. Older boyfriends were certainly possible for me. It is within my ability to look after them. Peter has no family.”

“I’ll inherit everything. I’m farting through silk now and will do for the rest of my life.”

I loved Mum. When I was younger, I used to wank thinking about her. I had grown up over the years of my training. I had many encounters with older women.

I was very selective; they had to be intelligent. Full-busted as Mum was, tall, good-looking, with a sense of fun.

After my physio training, I knew I could make them tingle and make them want more. My fingers could give women so much pleasure. My tongue took them to places many women had never been to.

I worked in many hospitals with many mature women. Most were widows or wives with husbands who did nothing for them. I loved giving them pleasure, and they loved what I did to them.

They would tremble on the hospital bed as I gave them a memorable orgasm. I never abused my position. I forced nothing on my patients. Everything was consensual. They loved what I did to them. I loved what I did to them.

I was now a Senior Staff nurse in the geriatric ward of a university hospital. It was the best hospital in the area. I enjoyed my work. I was popular with the patients.

I was an excellent nurse. I was a good physiotherapist, and my nutrition training was helpful in my day-to-day work. I was attentive to all the patients in the ward.

I was tall, with sparkling blue eyes. I was always cheerful and had an excellent bedside manner. When necessary, I listened and showed compassion.

It was easy for me to make mature ladies’ hearts beat faster and get their blood flowing. The ones whose eyes still sparkled were the ones I would give special attention to. They always came back for more.

My life changed on a Tuesday morning, just after eleven, when the professor’s secretary called me and asked if I had a private room available.

I had asked her about this, and she then told me that Countess Lady Lucy Whitley would be transferred from the X-ray department because her horse had thrown her.

She had landed on her tailbone or Coccyx. She had been badly bruised but luckily not fractured, as she is sixty-five years old.

I got an auxiliary to put a massage table with a roller cushion, but the cushion where her tailbone would sit wasn’t there. A significant amount of tailbone pain is caused by sitting.

I then sat beside and said, “Lady Whitley, may I introduce myself? I’m the leading nurse, Barry Parker. Please call me Barry.

“Lady Whitley, you have bruised your tailbone. You have been given medication that will relieve the bruising. One side effect is nosebleeds.

“Please use the hospital nightshirts, as we can cope with nosebleeds. Please tell me a bit about yourself. A horse threw you.

“What do you eat? What do you drink? Your marital status? I ask this because on your data, it says that you live alone?”

“Thank you, Barry. I feel so comfortable here. Professor George is a former Captain of Whitley Golf Club, which the family owns.

“He told me you’re one of the best nurses in the hospital. I fell off my horse. I wasn’t galloping. I was only walking, as my horse and I are getting old.

“Something startled Blackie. Out of nowhere, she stopped. Her head went down, and I flew out of the saddle over her head and landed on my butt.

“I lay there as Blackie nosed my arm to see if I was OK. The pain was dreadful. Blackie will now be put out to pasture until she’s summoned to where the good horses go.

“I’m careful about what I eat and drink. A glass of wine in the evening is something I enjoy. I’m a widow. Tom died five years ago, and my son, John, is the new Earl.

“I have a daughter who has her own interior design business and has a cottage on the Estate. I have done my bit and produced an heir for him.

“I now live at the Dowager House. I may move soon, as the Estate owns a successful retirement home with over one hundred and fifty residents in the old Manor House.

“Apartments, individual cottages — all set in manicured gardens with spectacular sea views of Manor Cove, a delightful place to live.

“There’s a waiting list of people wanting to live there. We would have built other apartments. The director of nursing said no.

“I agreed with her, but my daughter-in-law wanted it done in the same way. She wants to turn the Dowager House into a retirement home.

“My son is like his father. My daughter is like me. There’s a big difference between them.”

“After Tom died, I was doing less and less around the Estate. My daughter-in-law was doing more.

“Until five years ago, I had led a hectic life. Running the Estate. I was doing a big job I loved.

“Now in the autumn of my life, I want to live in peace and calmness. How long do you think I’ll be here, Barry?”

We’d been making lots of eye contact. Lady Whitley’s eyes sparkled. I explained to her it could be four or five days. It was essential that she stay here and rest as much as she could until the bruising was gone.

Any sudden movement could cause months of pain. I also told her to drink a litre and a half of water a day, along with Vitamin C effervescent tablets, which would help her blood circulation.

I was enjoying talking with her; she was a tall, voluptuous woman with an incredible body for her age. She was lying on her side in the bed, in a hospital nightgown.

She was braless, her nipples were hard, and her massive tits jiggled beautifully. I asked if she wanted to know anything else.

She smiled and said, “I’m looking forward to starting my exercises tomorrow. What time will we start?”

I told her after breakfast, probably around nine. Still, I’d have to give her a bed bath first, as the medication made the patient sweat a lot.

She accepted this and said, “I’m looking forward to this, Barry, I’m in safe hands, please call me Lucy. Thank you for calling me, Lady Whitley. That tells me you’re a respectful person. May I ask a personal question? Are you married?”

I smiled, I loved her blue sparkling eyes and said, “I’m single and not dating anyone. Eight years ago, I moved into the hospital staff accommodation building. My Mum, who’s a widow, moved in with a guy who wasn’t my cup of tea.

“She’s happy with him, and that’s all that matters. I’m saving up now to have enough money for a mortgage deposit.

“Until I’ve got that, I’ll be living in the staff accommodation. I’d better go now, but I’ll pop in and see you before I leave.”

I popped in to see Lucy just before I came off shift. A smile appeared when she saw me. She looked different. She was wearing makeup, which she hadn’t had on the last time I saw her.