For the love of Nurse Jane; by storyace

I was only 16; life had seemed so perfect before I got sick.

After a month in hospital, I was being taken home. Not that I cared; after three rounds of surgery and two of chemotherapy, all I wanted was to be left in peace so I could die without further pain and humiliation.

I’d had everything a boy could want. My parents were wealthy and loving, school was a breeze, I got straight A’s without much effort. I was good looking and popular, I had a great girlfriend.

Then suddenly I was stripped of it all. I was diseased, scrawny, ugly, hopeless. I had no hair, no appetite, no friends, and I was in constant pain.

Then there was Jane.

Jane was like the opposite of pain; when she strode into a room, pain just seemed to sneak out the back.

And she was my nurse. My private nurse for the next month.

She was fantastically proportioned, her slim hips tapering up into a very large chest. Her white uniform dress was hemmed just above the knee, but there was a lot of leg below that to be admired.

Her skin was very smooth and very pale, in stark contrast to her jet black hair.

The first thing that struck me about her though, was her eyes; big and blue, striking eyes that seemed to pierce my heart right through my sickly chest; to touch me right through my pain, despair, and humiliation.

The second thing that struck me was the size of her; she filled the doorway of my bedroom as she stepped through, she actually ducked slightly so she would be sure her cute white cap would clear. My dad was a tall guy, but Jane stood at least an inch taller than him, in flat shoes.

I felt something stir inside me; a vague desire to live, just for another day or two. Just so as to admire her a little longer. With a woman like Jane, that was as much as one could hope for.

Jane helped me out of the wheelchair and into bed. She was strong as well as tall, and she managed to work without her breasts getting in the way too much, no small feat for someone so well endowed.

I spent some time with my mom and dad while Jane took instructions from the doctor before he left.

“Everyone out now.” She said to my parents after a while, “I have to get Kirk undressed and washed.”

“But we’re his parents, what does it matter if we’re here?” my mother asked.

“Mrs. Peters, your son is sixteen. Don’t you think this is hard enough for him without you in the room?”

I think I loved her already.

When we were alone, she pulled back the covers and helped me out of my clothes, just a tee-shirt and drawstring trousers. I was used to this sort of thing by then, nurses seeing me naked didn’t bother me too much.

“Let’s get you into the bath.” She said.

She washed me; this magnificent creature washed my wasted body as I sat on the edge of the tub, and it was the first pleasurable thing I’d known for ages.

“So Kirk, my name is Jane.” She said as she worked. “I’m going to be taking care of you until you’re better.”

I just stared at her, I didn’t have much to say.

“Is that ok with you?” she asked.

“Yes ... yes, it sure is.” I said, although I didn’t share her apparent optimism about the ‘better’ part.

I don’t want to say too much about my illness, except where it affected my relationship with Jane.

I was in the midst of a clinical depression, brought on by the chemotherapy as much as the pain and horror of my condition.

“You have to eat.” Everyone was telling me, but the very thought of food nauseated me.

Jane held a bowl in her hand; slowly but very deliberately, she took some stew in a spoon and held to my mouth.

“Open.” She commanded softly, her blue eyes impossible to defy.

I couldn’t refuse her. I don’t suppose any man could, not on any level.

I was hypersensitive to sound and light; all I wanted was peace and darkness. TV gave me an instant headache.

Jane sat by my bedside, reading silently. I looked at her in my half conscious state, marveling at the raw glowing beauty of her, undeniable even to me in my near death state. Her fingers holding the book were lovely, her hair was radiant, her skin lustrous, her eyes bright in the dim light.

“What are you reading?” I asked her.

She looked down at me, slightly embarrassed. She’d thought me asleep.

“Oh, it’s a stupid book, a romance a girlfriend gave to me.”

“Read to me.” I pleaded.

“It’s really not very good.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Hesitantly, she started to read to me; it was pretty bad, Jane Austin without the style. But the sound of her voice was soothing, it was soft yet strong, reassuring to a sick boy.

“He took her in his strong arms and kissed her on the mouth. She nearly fainted from the excitement...” Jane stopped reading; “It’s pretty bad don’t you think?”

“I was enjoying it.”

She continued; “She felt his hot tongue in her mouth pushing past her burning lips, his hands had a will of their own and roamed freely across her willing flesh.”

Jane was sitting in her usual seat, next to my bed. Her back was straight and her huge breasts stood about halfway into the room, her perfectly fitted starched white uniform unable or unwilling to hold them back. That much was as usual, but I had never seen her nipples protrude through before.

She stopped reading again. I looked up at her to see she was looking back at me crossly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” I said.

“Oh it doesn’t really matter.” She sighed, “Everyone stares at me, I should be used to it by now; I’m a six foot three inch woman with a forty inch chest.”

“You’re not used to it then?”

“No. Sometimes I like it, usually I don’t, but my size doesn’t seem right. The only thing I ever really liked about being tall is playing basketball, but then my breasts just kept growing; do you have any idea how hard it is to move quickly with these things?”

“No.” I said.

“It’s impossible. I’m considering having them reduced.”

“Just to improve your basketball?” I asked, distressed.

“Well what are they good for? All I get for the work of carrying them around is a sore back and trouble from perverts.”

I wasn’t really sixteen anymore. I’d been looking death in the face for months by that time, and a frank conversation about my care-giver’s anatomy didn’t embarrass me at all.

“But they’re natural, Jane.”

She stood up, filling the room with her magnificence. “Don’t you think they’re just too big?”

From the depth of my sickbed, I looked out at her huge beauty and smiled. “To me, they’re part of you.” I said. “I know what you’re saying, but please keep them just a little bit longer.”

“I have to warm your lunch.” She said, smiling, and went to the kitchen.

She was my nurse and my friend, my only friend by then. My buddies had each made a brief appearance, but seeing me this way was more than they could take. Kirk, the popular varsity A student, was now a scrawny hairless pitiful wreck. My girlfriend, Tina, hadn’t been able to hide her shock. She hadn’t gotten closer than five feet, and hadn’t been back since.

Jane was the light in my dark quiet pain, she was my strength.

She massaged me after my injections, her hands were better than the powerful narcotics the doctor prescribed. If the pain was bad, Jane would ask me; “A pill or a rub?” I usually took the rub.

Jane returned with a stew that probably would have smelled great to any healthy person, but my stomach turned at the very thought of food.

“You have to eat.” She said, taking her seat next to the bed and putting the bowl on the side table.

“Please Jane, not now ... later, I’ll eat later, I promise.

“That’s what you always say Kirk.” She said, bringing the spoon to my lips. “Open.”

Her breasts again; the oversized bulges seemed alive under her tight uniform, as if they were striving for freedom. There seemed to be some unusual strain there I was thinking, and then as if to prove me right, a button popped, and flew in a little arc before landing on my sheet.

“Damn.” Jane said, straightening up, “Just what I need; I have to have these uniforms custom made you know, I only have one spare.”

Her cleavage was warm, white, deep, and very attractive. She fitted the spoon into my mouth, and I swallowed without complaint.

She looked at me coolly; “Perhaps these things are good for something.” She said.

She straightened up again, and deliberately released the next button down; the outfit opened further, and there seemed to be very little left holding her tits back; her nipples were only just covered.

“I wear special bras you know, I have to order them. I had a little trouble with my wash yesterday, and I didn’t have one to wear today.”

Another spoonful went down my open throat.

“Pervert.” She muttered affectionately as she fed me.

From then on, when we were alone, Jane would keep two buttons open for me. I was allowed to look; to feast my poor sick eyes on her. It was her gift to me, and our secret.

In the quiet darkness of my room, my ears seemed to become ultra-sensitive. I could hear anything that moved in the house, the TV downstairs, the plumbing, people talking. No one seemed aware that I was rarely actually asleep; or that I could hear them almost wherever they were.

“That nurse seems a bit much.” My mother said downstairs. “Where did you find her?”

“An agency.” My dad said.

“Do you think those breasts are real?”

“I don’t know. Hard to tell these days. Anyway, Kirk seems to like her.”

“Do you think it’s healthy to have a woman like that around him all the time? Boys are so impressionable at his age.”

“You know what the doctor said. I think we should do whatever we can to make the boy happy while we can.”

A chill crept slowly through me; “While we can”? They knew more than they told me. Somewhere deep inside myself, I believed I had little hope of survival. Now I knew my parents believed the same thing, but wouldn’t tell me the truth.

A couple of days later, I heard my dad talking to Jane in the kitchen.

“Stop it Sven.” She said.

“Come on Jane, loosen up. We’re alone.”

“I’m not your mistress anymore.” She said. “I’m here to take care of Kirk.”

“I know you Jane, you need it just like I do.” Dad said.

“Stop, Sven. I won’t say it again! That was over years ago. This is your family house, your wife and son live here.”

“Didn’t I pay your way through nursing school?”

“Didn’t I give you my childhood?” she retorted. “Get off. I’m here for Kirk, and when he doesn’t need me any more, I’ll go.”

Somehow, I wasn’t shocked. Maybe it was the drugs.

I was probably dying, and the goddess I was in love with was my father’s ex.

Jane was only 22 years old; I wondered how old she’d been when she got together with my dad. Years she’d said; but obviously not all that many of them.

“The girl in that photo.” Jane said one day soon afterwards up in my room. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“She was.” I said.

“Very pretty.” Jane said.

“She broke up with me when I got sick.” I said.

“That isn’t very nice.” Jane said. “Just when you need her.”

“Well, we weren’t ever really serious or anything.”

“I keep forgetting how young you were when this started.” She said. “You didn’t ... go all the way with her then.”

“No.”

Jane nodded. We were more than close by then; we were closer than lovers, we were care-giver and dependant, we were friends. She could ask me anything.

“So you’re still a virgin?”

“That’s right.”

That afternoon, as she fed me, Jane opened her blouse completely. She unhooked her bra and let her wonderful breasts swing free.

I stared at them in open admiration; after all, this was Jane; she’d once said I could.

“You can touch them if you want.” She said.

“Really?”

“What else are they good for?” she asked. “The only thing they do is drive men crazy. You should enjoy them, you deserve it.”

I reached my hand up, and slowly stroked my fingers over her precious smooth flesh. Gently, I caressed her firm full breasts, the symbols of her maternal love, her femininity, her magnificence. Her nipples hardened between my fingers, and she leaned closer; and closer. I pulled the nipple into my mouth.

I sucked it, like a baby. The huge firm breast was the most reassuring thing I’d ever known, a symbol of love, protection, and sex all at once.

She pulled away and fed me a spoonful of food, then offered me the other nipple. I took the offered breast in my hands, and found myself squeezing gently as I sucked, as if I might push actual mother’s milk from her. My Nurse, my love, my reason for being alive.

I knew I couldn’t have her, not for real, not as my woman. She was an adult, she was resplendent. Far beyond my class even if I would recover my full strength.

The new feeding regime did the trick. I couldn’t get enough of it, and soon I was putting on weight. I looked better, I felt better. After each meal, she would kiss me; not a little peck, either. A full open wet kiss from the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen; her fingers stroking my face as I basked in the heat of her love.

I was never actually too weak to lift my own fork, but Jane seemed to like feeding me, so the ritual stuck.

She would straddle me, sitting on my hips. Often, my cock would swell under her; she would move around a little sometimes, until it found a comfortable position

I guess it was about a week into this new ritual that Jane couldn’t seem to ignore my hardon any more. She kept shifting her ass across it as I sucked her tits; finally she lifted herself up and reached under the cover. Her hand found my cock.

I never thought such pleasure was possible; her bright eyes shone down at me as she squeezed me gently.

“So; I think we’re feeling a bit stronger today.” She whispered conspiratorially. “You’ll never tell anyone, will you?”

“No, I swear.” I said desperately.

“One part of you seems to be doing particularly well today.” She continued, adding a squeeze of my cock for emphasis. Her soft strong fingers stroked me secretly, and she smiled down at me, her bright eyes glowing with mischief. “You’re a very well built boy.” She added.

She fiddled around under her skirt, and then eased herself backwards; I was shocked to realize my virgin cock was sliding into her body.

“You don’t mind do you?” she asked. “I have needs too, you know.”

The great woman above me, my obsession, my goddess; she needed me? The sensation of her vagina around my cock was amazing and totally unexpected.

There was pressure; light even pressure and a perfect delicious warmth that I’d never imagined.

Jane rocked gently forward and back, as my cock slid in and out of her love tunnel. “Is it all right?” she asked.

“It’s wonderful.” I said lamely, staring up at her in ecstatic helplessness.

She smiled and continued, stopping to alternately feed me forkfuls of roast lamb and her big nipples.

When the food ran out, she just kept going; it was a slow tender coupling as my overwhelming nurse straddled my weak young body, as all my strength seemed concentrated in my stiff penis.

“Can you come?” she asked softly; kindly even, as though it was ok either way.

“I think so.” I said.

“Come inside me.” She said, “I want to feel you come in me.”

She rocked harder, her hands gripped my wasted shoulders, her great breasts heaved with her deepening breathing.

“Oh god.” She whispered loudly, before beginning to groan softly.

I heard myself grunt as my body convulsed, and I shot my load up into her, as she’d asked me to.

She lay on top of me afterwards, her weight on her elbows and knees as she kissed me gently and my cock slowly shrunk; until it fell out of her.

She got up and re-hooked her bra, then straightened her skirt. “Please forgive me.” She said.

“For what?” I asked.

“I shouldn’t have done that to you ... you’re still so weak, you need your strength. It was selfish of me.”

“But ... it was the best thing that ever happened to me in my life.” I protested.

My lover smiled; “Thank you, Kirk.” She said.

“Jane?” I said as she was about to leave the room.

“Yes Kirk?”

“Whatever happens to me, I’ll never forget what just happened, and I’ll never regret it either.”

She smiled sadly. I feared she did regret what we had done.

I got stronger rapidly after that; the wounds from the surgery healed, the poisonous chemicals I’d been given metabolized out of me. I was able to slowly gain muscle again, I was walking and taking light exercise under Jane’s watchful eye.

I nearly forgot about the hints I’d overheard regarding my life expectancy; I felt so good, how could I be sick?

Jane was my lover now; in the afternoons when my parents were at work, she would undress and slip into my bed.

Even lying down, her extra length was always conspicuous; for one thing, she was longer than the bed.

I was about 5’8” at the time, not small for my age but a head shorter than Jane.

There was just so much of her; great expanses of smooth pale lean flesh. She seemed to have enough strength and health for us both.

I loved to take her vagina in my mouth. She wouldn’t let me at first, but I begged her until she relented.

Her long muscular legs would encircle me as I wrapped my arms around them. Her taste was perfect, the taste of sex, love, desire, life itself. Buried in that perfect spot, my tongue wallowing in the glory of her perfect snatch, the world no longer troubled me.

She liked it, but didn’t come that way. Then I would kiss her all over; her back, her ass, her feet, her neck.

She let me love her with no condom. She said she liked it better that way. Settling myself in the saddle, my belly between her wide hipbones, my cock pushed into her.

Her internal muscles squeezed me firmly, and I rested my head between her big breasts while my abdominal muscles did the work, driving my young cock in and out of my huge, gorgeous, wonderful nurse.

She always gripped my head in her hands and looked into my eyes as she came; and every time she did that, the look in her deep blue eyes was more than I could hope to bear, and I’d shoot my load into her.

But lust was not a cure for cancer; despite how well I felt, when the next scans and blood tests were done, the news was grim.

Dad put on a brave face; mother left the room.

Jane sat with me and cried.

It was terrible to see her that way, that magnificent creature, that goddess of a woman. I didn’t mind the prospect of dying as much as the knowledge that it would cause Jane such pain.

Jane, my mother, and I traveled to a specialist cancer hospital where I was to stay for treatment. It was a final hope, an experimental regime.

As planned, my mother flew home the following day. Jane stayed at the hospital with me; there was a side room for accompanying family members.

I wasn’t in severe pain at that time, but Jane set me on a drip. “You’ll feel better in a few minutes.” she told me, flashing me one of her lovely smiles.

She stepped into her little room next door, and I removed the drip from my arm so I could get up to pee. I was pretty used to that kind of thing by that time, I just left the needle in and disconnected the tube.

I was back in bed and nearly asleep when Jane re-entered the room and made some adjustments to my IV. I realized that I had forgotten to reattach the tube, and I was going to tell her so when Dr. Gomez came in.

“You wanted to see me about something nurse?”

“Yes Doctor; I wanted you to reconsider your decision about Kirk.”

“My decision has been made. These things are decided by strict scientific criteria. The best thing for him is another round of standard chemotherapy.”

“We’ve been told that it would only carry a 20 percent chance of helping. The boy needs the experimental therapy Doctor, and we both know it. The fact is, he isn’t the best subject for your experiment, but the drug in the trial is his best hope at this moment. If it doesn’t work, the chemotherapy option remains open, whereas if we do the chemo first, it’s unlikely the new drug will be available in time to be any use.”

“Nurse, I’m aware of all this. I’m very busy man, so unless you have anything else to say?”

“I saw the look you gave to Mrs. Peters yesterday, when you told us you wouldn’t accept Kirk into the trial.”

“What look?”

“She pretended not notice, and perhaps she didn’t, but I did.”

In the dim light, I saw Jane take a step closer to the doctor. He was only as tall as her nose, and she looked down at him as she spoke.

“I think there’s a way you can be persuaded to change your mind.” Jane said.

“You seem to be taking this case very personally, nurse.” the doctor observed.

“I am.” Jane confirmed, “Kirk’s mother may not have understood how important your decision is doctor, or exactly what is required to convince you to change your mind. Your experimental therapy has had a couple of dramatic successes with this exact type of cancer.”

“His case is too advanced.” The doctor said.

“That’s why he has nothing to lose.” Jane argued, standing so close to him now that I think her breasts were against his shoulders.

I had been squinting, I closed my eyes as the doctor moved closer to the bedside. I could hear him examining the IV bag.