The Caring Meadow

by Chase Shivers

Copyright© 2018 by Chase Shivers

Incest Sex Story: An eighteen-year old nursing student strikes up a friendship with a terminal patient at the care facility where she works as a nursing assistant. Two years after her grandmother's death, and still living with, and taking care of, her grandfather, Meadow's caring behavior draws her towards offering more than just basic care.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Tear Jerker   Incest   Grand Parent   Cream Pie   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Doctor/Nurse   Small Breasts   .

Short Story #24

From the imagination of Chase Shivers

July 10, 2018

Main Characters:

Meadow, Female, 18
- Nursing assistant and nursing student, granddaughter of Grandpa Clark
- 5’6, 135lbs, tanned beige skin, dirty-blonde hair usually worn in a loose bun
Grandpa Clark, Male, late 60s
- Grandfather of Meadow, widower
George Barnes, Male, late 60s
- Terminal patient in a care facility

Meadow had gone into nursing to help people. At least, that was her goal, anyway. Only eighteen, she’d just started working at the elder care facility as a nurse’s assistant, taking her first night classes at the community college near her home after completing her nursing assistant courses over the summer. She’d grown up without parents, taken in by her mom’s father and mother when she was an infant when her own mom and dad had gone to be missionaries in Pakistan, dying there in a bomb explosion when Meadow was only two. She’d never known them, and her grandparents, Dove and Clark, had raised her as their own.

The care facility was a decent one, she’d been told, but it was really a sad place to work sometimes. The older folks there were often end-of-the-road types, not yet losing out to the inevitable death in their near futures, but not more than weeks or months away from that fate. It made the whole place feel morbid and depressing.

But Meadow was a helper, someone who’d always wanted to take care of her friends, and even her grandparents. When her grandmother passed away two years before, Meadow had ensured her grandfather had everything he needed to mourn and get by. Grandma Dove had been Grandpa Clark’s best friend, Meadow knew, and her loss had been a heavy blow. Slowly, though, he’d recovered, thanks, Meadow hoped, to the way she seemed to effortlessly keep his spirits up.

It was that mindset that led her to want to be a nurse. She knew what it was like to mourn and experience pain, and if she could help others get through those tough moments, Meadow could imagine no better way to spend her time.

So, she’d done her NA courses as fast as possible and enrolled in classes to get her nursing degree, but the latter was some years away, so for the moment, she had to make do as an assistant.

Meadow had never imagined what exactly her role might be in the elder care facility. Sure, the courses she took for certification were explicit in laying out the expectations, and the days spent in clinicals hammered home the mundane, and sometimes, gross, things she’d have to do.

She did the little things for the patients. Helping them eat and drink and use the toilet if they were ambulatory. The latter often meant she was expected to wipe them afterwards and regular bed-baths were part of her daily rounds.

Prior to her clinicals, Meadow had little experience seeing or handling sexual organs. She’d once fondled a female classmate’s budding breasts when she was twelve or thirteen, but it was a laugh, really nothing sexual. When Meadow was sixteen, she made out a few times with boys, but it never seemed to go very far. She was rather shy, and though that didn’t deter the boys from trying to finger her or more, Meadow demurred and resisted and, at eighteen, had not so much as touched a boy’s penis before her first clinical exposure to bed baths.

She’d tried to keep a very professional, mature mindset about such things. It was clinical in reality, a quick flip of the sheets and bed clothes, soapy water, a sponge, handling flesh between parted thighs only as much as was needed. Sometimes the smells were overwhelming, especially with the most bed-ridden folks, but Meadow adapted and viewed the work as necessary and fulfilling. She gently wiped and washed and cleaned up each patient and went about things without making the recipient feel awkward or ashamed.

Meadow was aware that some of the contact may have aroused the patients, especially the men. Meadow was pretty good looking, she figured, average height and weight, dirty-blonde hair kept neat and tied into a bun on the back of her head. She supposed that many men and women might enjoy getting fondled, even professionally, by her, but she never showed a reaction when penises hardened in her fingers or, sometimes, clitorises did the same as she swept a sponge over top. It was a normal reaction, Meadow knew, and something perfectly understandable.

The people in the clinic were not likely to get any sexual touches during their remaining days, and Meadow found that sad even though she, herself, had never known such things. At least, she figured, she had years to work things out and have some experiences, but her patients were usually too frail, confused, angry, or depressed to do more than get frustrated by what was left of their once-strong sex drives. All Meadow could do was talk to them calmly, encouraging them as best she could, and ignore the fact that the elder patients’ bodies sometimes reacted to her gloved fingers by showing arousal.

“Meadow, dear? I could really use that wash,” Mr. Barnes wheezed from his bed.

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Barnes!” Meadow exclaimed, jumping back from her thoughts.

“Daydreaming?” he chuckled before coughing.

“Something like that, sorry. I’ll get you cleaned right up.”

He smiled at her, head deep on the pillows, “No problem, Hun. Don’t ever stop dreaming.”

Mr. Barnes was one of the better-off patients, health-wise, at least, though that really wasn’t a high bar in the clinic. Some days, he was well enough to go for a wheelchair ride around the facility’s campus, though today wasn’t one of those days. He had a terminal condition, cancer, Meadow thought, and no family came around to see him. Somehow, he maintained a bright disposition, unlike most of his peers. Like many of them, he had but weeks to live, but Mr. Barnes never let on how depressing that must be. He always greeted her by name when she came in his room, and she actually liked that he called her ‘Hun.’ He called everyone, even the male attendants that, but still, she thought it sounded sweet when he did so.

With a smile, Meadow pulled back the bed sheets and pulled Mr. Barnes’ gown up only far enough to expose his genitals, then gathered hot water and soap and a cloth before sliding on disposable gloves.

It wasn’t the first time that Mr. Barnes’ penis was hard. Meadow had seen him erect several times over the last few days, his penis easily six inches and thin, standing straight up from his groin, whispy silver hairs sparsely covering his wrinkled sack and above his erection. It was the first time, though, that she saw a trickle of fluid sliding down from the tip. She worried that he might be losing control of his bladder and might need the restroom. “Can I help you to the toilet first?”

“Oh, thanks, no,” Mr. Barnes grumbled, “I went earlier. The girl yesterday forgot to wash me up, though, so I’m feeling rather unpresentable, you understand.”

“I do,” she smiled, “I’ll get you freshened up right away.”

It took just a few minutes to wash Mr. Barnes’ groin, Meadow careful to only touch his penis or testicles when she needed to wipe them or move them aside. His erection never faded and Meadow professionally ignored it as she went about her work.

“There you go, Mr. Barnes. All clean.” Meadow said as she slipped off her gloves and disposed of them. “What else can I do for you today?”

She returned his gown down over his thighs, his penis tenting the thin fabric, then covered him again with the sheet and blanket.

Meadow could see Mr. Barnes hesitating. She asked, “Tell me what you need, Mr. Barnes. I’m happy to take care of things for you.”

He chuckled dryly, “Not that simple, Hun...”

“What?”

“What I’m needing isn’t something you can help me with, I’m afraid. My time’s run out on such things, I know...”

She cocked her head and waited for him to explain.

“I shouldn’t say more, sorry, Hun. I’ll let you move along now...”

Meadow prompted him again, but he declined a further explanation. With a row of patients to see that morning, Meadow had to move on, but in the back of her mind she wondered what Mr. Barnes was not telling her.


“Grandpa Clark?” Meadow called into the house when she got home. The house was quiet, which wasn’t unusual. It was late afternoon, just a couple of hours before Meadow had to get to an evening class, and she typically made dinner for herself and Grandpa Clark before heading back out.

“In here, Meadow,” the man called, “having a bit of trouble if you please...”

Grandpa Clark had gone downhill physically quite a bit in the last year. He still got around okay and cared for himself, but his back was often not cooperating, and regularly, the meds he took to control his blood pressure, cholesterol, and other issues didn’t play nice, making him feel woosy and a little confused. Other times, his knee gave out and refused to bend properly, leaving him stranded in place until Meadow got home.

She went into his bedroom and found him on the bed, on his back, a sheet angled over his torso and thighs. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, just my back again. Tried to get up from my nap and just got stuck here. Give me a hand?”

Meadow had helped him up many times and knew just how to support him while he worked his way upright.

“Dear, I should warn you,” he said quietly, “I’m not covered below...”

That was unusual, but not unique, though Meadow had never actually seen Grandpa Clark’s frontal nudity before. Usually, it was his backside which was exposed if he’d failed to wear underwear or slacks that day.

“Not a problem,” Meadow said cheerily. She’d seen enough old men’s penises to think little of it, and she braced herself with one leg, throwing back the sheet and lending her support to her grandfather.

As he started to slowly bring himself upright, her eyes noticed that the man’s groin was fully exposed. His penis was erect and a bit shiny. Had he soiled himself? Meadow grew concerned, thinking maybe her grandfather was having a new issue cropping up. Then she noticed something else. Small white globs were dotting the sparse grey hairs around his penis.

Meadow’s breath caught, not expecting to see ejaculate on her grandfather. He’d masturbated, she realized with a start. She supposed it was perfectly normal, but she’d never thought of Grandpa Clark as having any sexual desires, especially after his wife had passed. Shocking as the cum spots might have been, Meadow steeled herself and gave her grandfather the support he needed to finally get his bones in alignment enough to stand up.

When he did so, his erect penis brushed right across her arm, sending a shiver through her and then disgust at herself for even noticing such things. Quickly enough, he shouldered his robe and gave Meadow a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Dear. Sorry for my ... state ... just now. Got a bit out of sorts today, it seems...”

He shuffled on his own down to his bathroom and closed the door.

Meadow stood a moment, turning over what she’d seen, wondering at the small thrill she’d felt when her grandfather’s warm penis had so briefly contacted her flesh. She looked down at her arm and stared at where a thin smear of wetness was already drying on her skin. Without thinking any further on what her grandfather had left on her body, she grabbed a wet wipe from the bedside table, cleaned the spot, and set about figuring out something for dinner.


“Good morning, Hun!” Mr. Barnes greeted her the next day.

She smiled. “Hello, Mr. Barnes. How are you feeling today?”

“Oh, you know, good enough to complain, not bad enough to die just yet, so all in all, not too shabby, I suppose. How was your class last night?”

Meadow had told the man days earlier about her pursuit of a nursing degree and the evening class she attended. “Informative.”

“Biology, right?”

“Exactly. I just love that class.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful nurse, Hun. Wish I could stick around long enough to see you finish up, but I’ll just be content to know you while your journey is underway!”

She tried not to feel sad at his words, so Meadow just smiled and replied, “I love getting to see you each day. Always my favorite on my rounds.”

He chuckled, coughed, then chuckled again. “Well. I’m wondering if you might take me for a ride when you finish your morning work. Feeling like getting out in the sunshine a bit today.” Mr. Barnes glanced out the window. “Beautiful day out there so far.”

“I’m sure I can work that in,” Meadow assured him, “glad you’re feeling up to it!”

“Oh, I suppose I could feel up to most anything so long as your pretty smile is helping me along.”

Meadow grinned.

“Oh, Hun. I’m sorry,” Mr. Barnes said, frowning, “I’ve gone and said too much. I don’t mean to objectify you that way...”

Meadow had long grown used to the odd and forward things her patients said to her. Some even went so far as to admit, at volume, sexual experiences, not so much to brag or impose upon her, but because many older patients seemed to lose their filters and spouted all sorts of private details which were generally out of place. Certainly, Mr. Barnes’ statement didn’t even register on the dial. “Oh, no, Mr. Barnes! I’m just happy my smile has that effect on you.”

“Well, I appreciate that. I’d hate for you to think less of me for admiring your beautiful smile. It truly is something I look forward to. Your face gets me through the long nights here. Just knowing I’ll see you, even for just a few minutes, makes everything else tolerable.”

Meadow melted. This was exactly the sort of thing she’d hoped to do in patient care, to make hard days easier. Her eyes watered a little and she took hold of his hand. “That is so sweet, Mr. Barnes. You made my day!”

“You make mine every day, Hun.” He let out a breath, collected himself, “Anyway, enough of me gushing. A hand over to the toilet would be appreciated before you give me a wipe down.”


Meadow finished her rounds, caring for nine different patients before she had some free time to see Mr. Barnes again. Her steps had been light all day, Meadow still beaming from his kind words. She’d even smiled at herself in the mirror just to get an idea of what he might be seeing. Her beige skin had lightened recently with so little time spent outside, but it still held a warm tone. Bangs over her eyes hung half-way down her forehead, the blonde and brown strands slightly curled towards the end, the rest of her hair held back in a bun. Her nose was slightly upturned, not enough to look snobby, Meadow thought, but she’d always liked the cute button effect it gave her appearance. Lips lightly painted with pale pink gloss, she pursed them and blew herself a kiss. Meadow laughed, then shook her head, leaving the restroom and heading back to Mr. Barnes’ room.

“Hello again, Hun,” he greeted her.

“Mr. Barnes, it’s your lucky day,” she smiled, “I had to get permission from the Secret Service, but I got clearance to take you on a tour of the White House grounds right now, if you still want to take that ride.”

He beamed. “Sure would, Hun.”

“Give me just a few and I’ll you into your chair.”


The grounds around the care facility weren’t much. Located in a suburban sprawl near restaurants and office complexes, the property was several dozen acres of sterile buildings and some open spaces. There were benches and a few tables for families to eat together and visit, even a small pond with a fountain and ducks on the most open side of the campus. She slowly wheeled Mr. Barnes over to the edge of the pond, no rush in her steps despite the many preparatory duties she was delaying in order to take care of the man.

“Laziest ducks known to man,” Mr. Barnes laughed. “Look at them! Can even be arsed to waddle over and beg.” Meadow had grabbed a few slices of bread to toss for the ducks, but the slowly-paddling birds just floated by, ignoring the three or four pinches which had been tossed nearby.

“Well fed, they are,” she smiled. “Look how fat they’ve gotten!”

Many of the patients, those who could still get around enough for such visits, liked to feed the ducks, so much so that it wasn’t that unusual to see them take their time to come peck at the offerings.

“Ever eaten duck, Hun?” Mr. Barnes asked, tossing another chunk of bread into the water, this time attracting one of the ducks enough for it to paddle over and dunk its bill to take it in.

“Never.”

“Delicious. I used to hunt them, back when I was a lad, with my dad. He was a good cook, my dad. Taught me everything I know about it. He made that duck so tasty, too. Succulent meat, rich and flavorful, crackled skin like you wouldn’t believe.”

Meadow giggled, “I see that look in your eyes, Mr. Barnes. Don’t you go hunting these fat boys behind my back.”

Mr. Barnes laughed, “Nah. I gave that up a long time ago. Never did much care for the killing myself. The hunt was thrilling, but I never much liked killing anything.”

“Good for you,” Meadow replied.

“Say, is that June with her kids over there?” he asked, pointing a shaky arm off to one side.

Meadow replied, “Sure is. Would you like to go over?”

Mr. Barnes was quiet a moment, then said, “Nah. Don’t want to interrupt them.”

Meadow knew Mrs. Clancy, June, well enough to know she relished company even if her adult children were around. “Oh, I think it’s no bother, Mr. Barnes. Let’s just go say hello.”

She wheeled him around the pond and saw Mrs. Clancy waving at them before they got halfway to her. “Ah, George!” the woman smiled with a creaking voice. “You look like you’re feeling well today!”

“Oh, I am, thank you,” Mr. Barnes replied, “thanks to Meadow here, of course. Enjoying the sunshine today. Nice to see you, June, and Martina and Brian, as well,” he added, nodding towards the woman’s forty-something kids.

“We were just discussing your stories about living in Austria,” Mrs. Clancy told him, “Care to tell it yourself?”

Mr. Barnes perked up and nodded. Meadow leaned down and patted his shoulder, then slid the pager block down into the pocket of his robe. “I’ll go run some errands inside. You page me when you’re ready for me, okay?”

He smiled at her, placing his fingers over hers, “I will, Hun. Thanks so much.”


Grandpa Clark was napping when Meadow ducked her head into his room that evening. She flashed back to the evening before when she’d seen, for the first time, his naked groin and stirred a bit, surprising herself. Why was that still sticking around in her head? Worse, she remembered the small globs of semen in his pubic hairs, and the light smear of the same on her arm. She unconsciously rubbed the spot where her grandfather’s penis had brushed her, not sure why that touch still seemed to linger so strongly.

Meadow shuddered and went down the hall to the bedroom she’d had in his home since she was too young to remember things. It didn’t actually look that much different than it had when she was six or seven. Oh, sure the posters on the wall and the assortment of stuffed animals, games, books, and hobby boxes had changed over the years, but it was still the same bed, still the same white, squat dresser and desk. Even the spread over the mattress was the same rainbow design which had been there practically all her life. Maybe it looked like a room a little girl would keep, but it made Meadow feel happy to be surrounded by those comforts, and she was not about to go changing things now just because she was grown up and a college student, working a full-time job and acting, as best she could, as a proper, responsible adult.

She dropped her shoulder bag and flopped onto the bed to relax a moment. All her commitments were quite exhausting, but Meadow’s grandparents had brought her up to believe that hard work and many responsibilities were the right things to dedicate one’s time to in life, and it had ingrained in the eighteen-year old a sense of purpose just to keep her days filled with work and caring and education. It left little time for anything else, but Meadow assured herself that the days would come when she had a bit of free time, maybe to travel, maybe to consider a boyfriend.

Meadow didn’t idle long, soon showering to clean away the day’s grime. She made a mental note to be sure to wash the bedspread. It was a bad habit to come home from the care facility and lay down on the bed without showering and changing clothes first.

In the steamy water, Meadow caressed her small breasts a moment, tingling a little bit with arousal. Those moments came and went in her life. Some weeks, she didn’t so much as notice her own sexual urges, others were more of a rush of desires, but more the former than the latter. This moment, she felt, deserved at least a few minutes of attention, so she gently fondled her tits and made her pink-red nipples stand up and grow erect.

Taking hold of the shower head, Meadow took it off its mount and ran it down her front, spreading her legs. Her pubic hair, as it had been since she was twelve or so, was full and light-brown, covering her genitals completely. She’d never shaved it, even when wearing swim suits, and it had never bothered her to let it get rather wild. It wasn’t like she was trying to impress anyone, and certainly no one had ever so much as seen it since those first dark hairs grew in down there. There was no point in keeping it trimmed.

She turned the front of the shower head until it changed its flow from wide-area spray to fast, hard pulses. Meadow jumped when she hovered it just below her vulva, the water striking her rising clit and making her shudder in pleasure.

She started to rock her hips in a rhythm which often brought her off quickly. The water sprayed up with a purpose and Meadow let her mind wander in fantasy.

Her clit twitched and her body followed when the memory of Grandpa Clark’s penis swept in. Meadow tried to push aside that image, but it was strangely attractive in that moment. It had been erect then, a real handful by Meadow’s reckoning. She imagined being able to see the moments just before she’d come in to help her grandfather, the seconds or minutes when he’d used his fingers to slide up and down his length, gushing forth his orgasm to splatter onto his body.

Meadow swooned and strained, suddenly too hot to continue. Her clit was very sensitive and the image burning in her brain too powerful to wrap herself around. She slammed her palm onto the water knob and the spray shut off. Meadow twitched and rocked, on the edge of orgasm, but too torn by her fantasy vision to let herself get there.

“Meadow?” her grandfather’s voice called out as the teen rested on the edge of release, her clit straining for her to flick back on the steamy water.

She let out a lightly-frustrated sigh, but felt rather happy to have been interrupted right then. She was just about to climax thinking about her grandfather masturbating. “In the shower, Grandpa Clark!”

“I could hear,” he replied. From the sound of his voice, he’d opened the door and was leaning inside. Meadow was suddenly aware of her nudity in the tub and was thankful for the dark-golden curtains she’d thought to pull along the side, covering her from his eyes. “Just wanted you to know that a Mr. Barnes called the house phone a few minutes ago. He left a message for you.”

That was odd, Meadow thought. Even though she often gave her patients her cell number so that they could call her direct when she was at work, to not risk messages getting lost when routed through the administrative staff, she’d never given anyone the hardline number at her grandfather’s house. “The house phone? Not my cell?” She wondered if maybe Grandpa Clark was confused and had answered her cell by mistake.

“That’s right. I took down the message. I’ll leave it on the table for you.”

“Okay ... thanks.”

Meadow waited until she heard the door click shut again, then stepped out and quickly dried. Her whole crotch felt a little tender, still worked up. She chuckled, wondering if this was something like the sensation of ‘blue balls’ she’d heard boys talk about. Regardless, the moment had passed, thankfully, and Meadow quickly forgot about her confusing fantasy in the shower.

After putting on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, Meadow retrieved the note. Scrawled in her grandfather’s rather precise handwriting, it read:

George Barnes from St. Martha’s.
Would Meadow like to bring some of the cherries she mentioned in the morning?
Will pay her back.

Meadow sighed. She’d forgotten that she promised Mr. Barnes fresh cherries last week. She’d mentioned they were in season and especially sweet this year, and Mr. Barnes had practically begged her to bring him some. She felt terrible for forgetting, but she quickly gathered her things and told her grandfather that she was running down the street to the store. He added milk and a couple of other things to her list, and Meadow was out the door. She wondered, one more time, why he had called the house phone instead of her cell, but didn’t think much more on it.


“Oh, Hun, these are magical!” Mr. Barnes exclaimed. “Simply magical!”

Meadow stood by while Mr. Barnes carefully ate around the cherry pits and smacked loudly as he swallowed one after another of the sweet dark cherries. His hand trembled, unsteady, and the effort he was making to use the numb fingers was admirable. “So sorry I forgot!”

“Oh, do not fret, Hun! These were worth the wait! Please, have some with me!”

Meadow was rather strict with herself about her diet, planning out each meal and snack and counting calories. She liked to think she could keep herself young and healthy that way, and she’d never been much for breaking her routine.

But Mr. Barnes was worth an exception. “Give me twenty minutes to take care of Mrs. Hannigan and I’ll join you.”

“Deal.”

Twenty minutes later, or thereabouts, Meadow returned to find no more than two dozen of the cherries still left in the bag. Mr. Barnes looked rather full and satisfied, a big, red-smeared grin on his face. “I barely left you any!”

She laughed, pulling up a short stool beside his bed and taking a seat, her feet rather sore from the long hours standing on them the past few weeks. “Oh, but you did! That good, eh?”

“Magical,” he said again, “please, share what’s left with me.”

Meadow slowly chomped, snapping the skin and letting the glorious meat melt in her mouth. Meadow purred, “So good.”

“Aren’t they just?” Mr. Barnes bit into one and Meadow heard the same snap through its flesh as he chomped down. “Nothing like a sweet, tight young cherry.”

Meadow nearly choked as she chuckled, hearing a euphemism where none was intended.

“What, Hun?”

“Oh,” she replied, “nothing, nothing.” Meadow quickly tried to catch her laughter.

Mr. Barnes looked horrified a moment, blushing. “Oh, Hun. I didn’t mean ... I ... I meant these!” He held up the fruits and looked aghast.

“It’s okay, Mr. Barnes,” Meadow laughed, “I knew what you meant, just a peculiarly funny way of putting it. ‘Tight young cherry.’” The man looked further horrified, then she added, “Really, it’s fine. I’m the one who should apologize.”

He shook his head and started to smile, “Well, you should not. Humor is lacking around here. I could use more of it, myself. Sorry it was a bit ribald, though, if unintentional.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m not a girl, Mr. Barnes. I can handle a well-placed euphemism. Or a dirty joke. Nothing wrong with having fun.” She lowered her voice, “Just between us, though. Don’t want Mr. Sanchez hearing that.” Mr. Sanchez was the shift supervisor, a bit of a strict boss but not a cruel one. Meadow was happy to be professional and avoid risking offense, but Mr. Barnes was a special man who deserved some levity when she could offer it. She bit into another cherry.

“I’ve known a dirty joke or two in my life, though none worthy of your company, Hun.”

She grinned, “Try me.”

He hesitated, then shrugged, saying, “Sure?”

“Definitely!”

He cleared his throat and said, “What do you call a virgin on a waterbed?”

She shook her head with a smile, “What?”

“A cherry float!”

Meadow laughed, “Terrible!”

Mr. Barnes beamed, though.

“I got one,” she offered.

“Okay.”

“How do you know who’s the head nurse?” Meadow asked.

“How?”

She replied, “She’s the one with dirty knees!”

Mr. Barnes alternated chuckling and coughing, shaking his head, “I like that one. How about this one: A guy in the emergency room has burns all over his body. Doctor takes one look and tells the nurse to give him a viagra. Nurse asks what good that would do. Doctor tells her, ‘It’ll keep the sheets off his legs!”

Meadow shook her head, “What an image!”

“Too much?”

She shook her head again, “Not at all. What’s hard and pink when it goes in, but soft and wet when it comes out?”

Meadow waited, giggling, as she watched Mr. Barnes try to reply, “Err ... tell me...” he said.

“Gum, you pervert!”

His coughing fit kicked off seconds after his laughter erupted, but then he seemed to deflate quickly and looked down at this feet.

“Too much?” Meadow asked, wondering if she, instead, had been the one to go to far.

“Oh, nah. Just ... little close to home, I suppose...”

Meadow frowned. “Sorry, was just a joke.” She wasn’t entirely sure what the offense had been.

“It’s fine. Just ... well, I won’t say it.”

She cocked her head, lowering her voice, “Really, it’s fine. Just tell me...”

He looked up at her a moment, paused, then shrugged, “I just miss doing all that stuff...”

Meadow deflated then. “Ah ... Sorry, Mr. Barnes...”

“Not your fault. You know,” he said, “what they never tell you is that only some parts of your body and mind fall apart towards the end. Some of them, though, they keep going strong.” As if to emphasize his point, the blanket over his groin was distinctly tented.

Meadow’s eyes paused there a second too long and Mr. Barnes noticed. She saw him put effort into trying to shuffle his position so as to hide his obvious erection.

“Meadow?” A voice called into the room a second before Mr. Sanchez poked his head in. “Meeting time, if all is set here. Mr. Barnes, is Meadow taking good care of you?”

He nodded and smiled at the man, “She’s the best. You really should give her a raise, you know.”

Mr. Sanchez offered a tight smile and nodded, “Well, I’ll put a good word in.”


Meadow had been troubled during the staff meeting and during lunch by Mr. Barnes’ words. It must really suck still becoming aroused but unable to do anything about it. Mr. Barnes’ arms were only ever steady for a few minutes at a time, and his fingers had lost most of their sensitivity in the previous weeks, making what he’d done to eat the cherries earlier a feat of will.

But what could she do for him? There was no way she could risk so much as touching him there, let alone giving him the relief he clearly needed. No touching other than bed baths, anyway. That notion took on a life of its own as she chewed her sandwich mindlessly. Could she help him and still make it seem like it was just a bath? It was rare for anyone to just randomly pop into a room, though it certainly happened. She couldn’t be caught by anyone, that was for certain. And should she talk to him about it first? Surely he would decline even if it was what he desperately wanted. Mr. Barnes was a gentleman, not someone likely to take advantage of a young woman, as he would see it. Should Meadow just do it?

She didn’t get a chance to see Mr. Barnes again that day, not that she had a clue what to say or do at that point. He had scheduled doctor’s appointments all afternoon, and Meadow went home at the end of her shift feeling a little unbalanced.


It was the most unusual of noises which woke Meadow from her nap. With no classes that evening, she had showered and settled into her bed to recover her stability. The sounds she heard through the wall she shared with her grandfather’s room came strange and muffled to her ears. What is that? She leaned back, ear closer to the wall.

“Ohhh...” her grandfather’s voice distantly breathed.

He sounded hurt, groaning, and Meadow was immediately racing to his room, slamming open his door and stopping in her tracks.

Grandpa Clark was on his back, fist wrapped around his penis, white ejaculate flying wildly into the air. Meadow’s throat constricted, her voice lost, her breath as well. Two, three, four powerful spurts splattered down all over her grandfather’s body. He wasn’t even aware of her watching, the sound of his semi-ragged breathing and growling moans more than covering her entrance.

Two heartbeats, three, then a fourth before Meadow found her head and quickly leapt out of the room and closed the door a little too strongly behind her. She stood, panting a moment, just outside, and heard the bed creak slowly as the man on it started to shift. Meadow raced back to her room, closing the door, and stood, vibrating, shocked and a little aroused by what she’d seen.


Things were clearly awkward for a good hour after Grandpa Clark had roused and come out of his room. Meadow mechanically worked on a salad and grilled chicken for dinner, and the way he moved and the manner in which his eyes avoided looking at her meant he knew what she had seen earlier. It wasn’t like him to be so standoffish, but Meadow, herself, was not exactly all that comfortable being near him, either.

A few bites into the meal, Grandpa Clark let out a long sigh, then looked at her finally. “I’m sure sorry about earlier, Meadow. Had no idea you might come in there...”

She swallowed her mouthful, gathered her thoughts, and replied, “It’s fine. Really. I thought I heard you ... in pain ... Sorry for ... interrupting...”

He looked rosy, blushing, “Not meant for you to know about that, obviously...”

She smiled at him, her natural inclination to sooth and heal taking over, “It’s okay, Grandpa Clark. I know guys do that. Pretty normal.”

“Yeah, well, not normal for a girl to see her grandfather doing that, that’s for sure.”

“Maybe not, but, really, I’m okay.”

He watched her, eyes slightly averted, then nodded, “Good.” Grandpa Clark chuckled, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” he replied.

“Tell me!”

He mouthed words a time or two before saying, “Just the timing, that’s all. Couldn’t have walked in at a worse time.”

Meadow giggled and soon the two of them were sharing a fit of laughter together at the absurdity of it. “I almost walked right into the money shot, Grandpa Clark!”

“That you did!” he grinned. “Half surprised I didn’t get you. I’ve got no control of that thing anymore.”

She smiled, “Seemed you had plenty of control to me...”

He looked at her in surprise, then couldn’t stop smiling. “Suppose so...”

An awkward silence followed as Meadow clearly felt like they were tiptoeing the line of good humor and decency. Thankfully, her grandfather cleared his throat and asked her about her day.


Meadow could not sleep later that night. Her grandfather’s ejaculation had her all mixed up. Part of her was disgusted and revulsed because that’s what was expected. It should be gross to see your own grandfather jerking off and shooting cum in the air! But just as much of her felt tingly and excited. She’d never seen any such thing in person before, only on videos. The way Grandpa Clark’s penis twitched and swelled as he came was really something. The sounds he made, the pleasure obvious in his tones, just enhanced the moment.

She was so turned on that Meadow rapidly twirled fingers around her clit and brought herself to orgasm. Her thoughts turned suddenly to Mr. Barnes. Maybe she could help him out, if she was careful. He deserved that, right? Not that she’d ever done anything with a man before, but Meadow had seen enough pornography to get the idea. Could she really do that at work and get away with it? Would Mr. Barnes think less of her afterwards? Would he be mad if she did it and poisoned his opinion of the polite, innocent eighteen-year old she’d presented to him? Meadow recalled the dirty jokes they’d told and thought maybe she was overthinking things, that if she did give him some relief, it would probably only make his opinion of her soar. Pretty soon, thoughts of helping Mr. Barnes climax made Meadow’s clit explode into her second orgasm of the night, a rare double for the teen.


“I forgot to ask you, Mr. Barnes,” Meadow told him after taking away his breakfast tray, “why did you call my house line the other day? You have my cell, right?”

He looked a little sheepish, “Ah, that. I’m so sorry. I got a little confused and, I confess, I pried a bit. I’ve lost your cell number, Hun, forgot where I put that.”

Meadow glanced to where it was right at eye level, in big print, on a sticky-note not four feet from his head.

But he continued, “Nurse Daniels was in here with that pad thing of hers. I wanted to remind you about the cherries, so I just sort of ... noticed she had the employee directory opened up. I just rang the number I saw. Didn’t know it was the house line until a man’s voice answered.”

She nodded, ignoring the problem of a patient having direct access to what was available on one of the provider portal tablets, “Okay ... just wondered. My number’s right there, you know,” she said, pointing to the note.

Mr. Barnes glanced and the look on his face suggested he knew, which he then confirmed. “Saw it not five minutes after I called. I’m losing some parts of my mind, Hun. I see that number every day and think about you, yet when I want to call you, I forget. Damnedest thing!”

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