Chapter 3: Loose Knots

Heather woke the next morning feeling less than refreshed. She hadn't set an alarm, but the sun streaming through her window didn't allow her to sleep in as late as her body seemed to want. Between her lack of sleep the night before, and last night's highly erotic and repetitive dreams, she felt she'd barely slept at all. Yet despite her mental exhaustion, her body felt alive.

When they returned to the dig from the hospital after Dr. Walters woke up, it was too late in the day to begin any real work. The guys took advantage of their free time to go swimming or hang around town. They tended to stay around the touristy areas, still not comfortable going truly native.

After taking a quick shower, Heather dressed herself in khaki slacks and a white button-down blouse, leaving the top three buttons open. Next, she put on a little bit of makeup, something she normally didn't do when working in the pits. Stepping out of her camper, she went to check on her fellow students. Adam and Brian were already at their pit. She was almost impressed until she realized they weren't actually working. Just sitting there playing cards. Chad was at the cook fire, helping himself to a second serving of breakfast.

"Where's your roommate?" she asked.

"David?"

"No, your other roommate — Ali Baba! Of course David."

Chad blushed. He seemed about to make one of his infamous quips, but looking into her eyes, he only said, "He only got back a couple hours ago. Said he hooked up with some Australian gal at the Hilton."

With the professor still at the hospital, Heather had apparently assumed the role of authority figure. After she finished her breakfast, she told Brian and Adam to put away the cards and get to work. Then she turned to Chad and told him to wake David. It was already late in the morning, but they could at least get SOME work done, even with the professor not around. She didn't laugh when she heard a giggling voice say, "Sorry Mom!" from one of the two jokers over in the pit. If she learned which of the two had said it, she'd make sure to slap him upside the head.

Heather definitely wasn't feeling like working in one of the pits today. Her thoughts were on Dr. Walters. They weren't sexual thoughts like her dreams last night. No, they were practical thoughts, like, 'I wonder if he's getting enough to eat.' She went back to her camper and grabbed her wallet and keys. She also grabbed the key to his trailer. She had taken it with his personal affects from the hospital when he was admitted. Stepping back out of her camper, she was almost run over by David who looked like death warmed over. He had bags under his eyes, his hair was a mess, he smelled like alcohol, and he was stifling a yawn with his bandage-wrapped hand. He obviously wasn't happy about getting woken up. He was about to walk right past her without saying a word, when Heather said brightly, "Good morning sleepyhead!"

David looked up, as if only just realizing she was there. He looked her in the face, looked down at her chest, and then back up again giving her a big grin. His grin turned to a wince of pain before walking past her rubbing the side of his head. Heather was used to men and boys eyeing her assets, but for some reason David's gaze made her uncomfortable. She walked over to the professor's camper, holding the top of her shirt closed with one hand.

Crossing the campsite to his cabin, she unlocked the door, entered and looked around. When the six of them weren't in there all at once, it was really quite roomy. She walked to the table where his notes and books were still laid out. She picked one notepad up and marveled at how small, yet neatly legible his handwriting was. Opening his closet, she removed his empty backpack from the bottom corner. 'Okay, he'll need clothes. I'm sure he's tired of wearing that ass-less gown.'

Going through his things, she found a pair of t-shirts, one pair of sweats, one pair of jeans, a button-down shirt, some socks and some boxers. She also grabbed a jacket just in case. Folding each item neatly, she began putting the items into the bag. Before packing away the shirt, she gently caressed the fabric, bringing it up to her face and breathing deeply of his scent mixed with deodorant. A warm and content feeling washed over her. She didn't know why she wasn't put off by the odor, but she breathed in deeply again. The scent made her think of her dreams and she could feel a familiar throbbing start in her groin.

"Stop it," she chided herself out loud. "He's your teacher and he's laid up in the hospital!" Getting a grip on her senses, she put the shirt and the rest of his clothes into the bag. She grabbed some toiletries from the bathroom, a pair of sneakers from his closet, and the spiral-bound notebook that seemed to have his most recent notes. She also grabbed his palm pilot. She didn't know why, but she figured she'd better stop somewhere and pick up some extra food. She couldn't explain it, but she just knew he'd be hungry.

Unlike Heather, Gregg woke up feeling completely refreshed. After sitting up and stretching his arms over his head, he took stock of himself. His stomach growled loudly and he really had to pee. Swinging his legs over the side he felt a moment of deja vu. Thoughts sprung into his head — falling out of bed, a beautiful nurse, a sponge bath ... sex. He had sex last night! The thought washed over him with both excitement and dread. 'How did it happen? Was it really as great as I remember? Was the girl a willing partner, or did I somehow force her?' That fear overrode his other thoughts, and kept him from truly enjoying the memories. He needed to talk to her ... if she was willing to talk to him, that is.

As strong as his fears were, they weren't stronger than his immediate need to pee. He shook his head to clear it and dropped to his feet. His legs seemed stable enough. He walked to the little bathroom and saw himself in the mirror. 'God, I look like hell!' His face had several days of growth and his hair was in complete disarray. He also realized that he was seeing himself clearly and he wasn't wearing his glasses. He looked at his palm, remembering that he had cut himself during the ritual, but there weren't any bandages or scars there.

The pressure on his bladder reminded Gregg of why he came there in the first place. Putting his thoughts on the back burner until he took care of his immediate dilemma, he stood over the john and lifted his gown. He stared at the cock in his hands. It wasn't his. Well, it was — he could feel himself holding it, but it still wasn't his. It couldn't be ... It was too big. Again, his brain didn't let him process this until he at least emptied his bladder. He relaxed his muscles and the stream flew from his gigantic penis. He had this image in his head of all the waste and toxins from his recovery being flushed (literally) out of his body. He knew medicine didn't work that way, but still the image seemed right.

Finally done, he flushed, washed up, tried matting his hair down as best he could, and headed back to his bed. Again, he tried putting the pieces together of what all happened last night but his stomach growled again, loudly. Pressing the nurse call button, he sat there running his fingers through his hair, trying to remember the details of what had happened last night to no avail. The head nurse entered and before she could say, "You should be lying down," she heard his stomach rumble again from across the room and turned around to get him some food.

A half an hour later, Gregg had polished off two complete breakfast trays, a muffin, two cups of coffee, and an orange juice. He hadn't spoken a single word yet that morning, but each time he finished a tray, the head nurse would come in, remove the empty tray, nod to herself, and return a few minutes later with more food. She kept on bringing him food until food wasn't the only thought on his mind.

He had just taken a bite of an apple when the doctor and Emily arrived. When he looked at Emily, all the holes in his memory suddenly filled. In a flash, every moment of their sexual escapades filled his mind.

"Gregg ... Gregg! ... Dr. Walters? Can you hear me?"

Gregg turned to face the doctor, suddenly aware that he was being asked a question. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said how are you feeling this morning?"

Gregg looked down at the apple, then up at Emily, who was blushing from head to toe, her head shaking ever so slightly from side to side. She seemed worried, but didn't seem scared of him. He was sure he could hear her thoughts 'Please don't say anything about last night, I'll lose my job!'

Gregg looked back at the doctor. "Oh ... uh ... much better I guess. Hungry, mostly." Emily looked visibly relieved and mouthed a silent 'Thank you.' He winked at her when the doctor dropped his gaze to review his vitals. Emily blushed again, but this time it wasn't from fear. 'Did I just wink at her? I don't wink at people!'

The doctor listened to his heart and his lungs. Checked the monitors and his reflexes. He had him stand and do some coordination exercises.

"Well, Dr. Walters, if I hadn't seen the condition you were in yesterday with my own two eyes, I would accuse you of being a hypochondriac!"

"Does that mean I can go back to my research now?" He wasn't sure why he asked that. He really didn't feel like digging in the dirt, but it was a reflexive statement. He looked up at Emily again and this time he saw sadness in her eyes.

"Well, there's some paperwork to do yet, and I'd like you to visit our therapy room before leaving also." For some reason, that brought a grin to Emily. "I'm also prescribing this topical ointment for that scar on your shoulder. It appears that's where the lightning struck you. I've never seen such a symmetrical scar before, but I guess stranger things have happened. You're lucky to be alive, young man, so I hope I don't hear about you operating electrical equipment during lightning storms again. For now, stay here and enjoy our hospitality. We should have you out of here by early afternoon."

"What about my things?"

"Oh, one of your students is waiting outside in the hall." He looked down at his notepad where he had scribbled something. "Uh ... Heather. She has your things. I'll send her in."

With that, the doctor made a few final notes on his chart, replaced it at the foot of his bed, and exited the room. Gregg and Emily stared wordlessly at each other, neither able to form a coherent thought. She walked up to him and gave him a quick peck on the lips before whispering into his ear, "We need to talk, but not now. Later." With that, she turned and walked out of the room. Gregg was alone with his thoughts. He was relieved that Emily wasn't mad, or worse — running to the police for something he did. He was confused and wanted answers, but wasn't given a chance. His train of thought was broken when Emily led Heather into the room.

"Hey Dr. Walters, how are you ... you..."

All three of them were caught in the trance. All of their eyes shifted from one to another. It seemed like the awkward silence lasted for hours, when in reality it was only a few moments. Emily stared at Heather, not understanding why she suddenly felt funny in front of her now. She felt fine when she spoke to her briefly in the hall before leading her in. Heather turned her head and stared at the young nurse. She felt like she should know her from somewhere, like they had met before a few moments ago. But she couldn't remember from where. "I'm sorry, nurse, but I just had a feeling like we've met somewhere before..."

Emily blinked out of her trance. "Oh ... um ... no I don't think so. But I know what you mean. I just had the strangest ... um ... I'm Emily ... I ... uh ... Gregg ... er, I mean Dr. Walters ... um ... last night ... I mean ... I slept ... no, I mean helped him sleep ... no ... Arrgh! I'm his nurse!" Emily was turning bright red over her inability to speak coherently.

Heather looked her up and down. She had worked with some very attractive girls in the clubs, and this nurse was very attractive ... in a nervous twitchy sort of way. She also noticed that her legs kept rubbing against one another, and that the top three buttons of her coat were open, showing hints of a red bra underneath. "Um, Emily? Could you give Dr. Walters and me a few minutes alone? Thank you." Heather looked from Emily to her professor, and back to Emily again. She didn't know what was going on, but something had the girl on edge.

Emily gulped, and curtsied, saying "Yes ma'am." 'Oh God! Did I just curtsy? ... Jesus, if she'd been wearing a ring, I probably would have kissed it!' Blushing fiercely, she quickly spun and ran out the door.

Heather stared after her. Turning back to Gregg she said, "Did she just curtsy? What an odd girl." She shook her head in disbelief, and yet some part of her brain also said, 'Yeah, she's always been a bit quirky.' She shook that off also, sure that she had never met her before until just moments ago. "So, how are you doing?"

Gregg found himself pulled into her eyes. He suddenly couldn't remember if it was Emily he had ravaged the night before or if it was Heather. Both memories seemed real. He was sure it was Emily, but part of him wanted it to have been Heather. Averting his eyes, he focused in on the apple core in his hand. He didn't remember finishing that either. "Good ... hungry mostly..."

"Well, that's a good sign ... I guess. I figured they probably weren't feeding you enough, so I stopped and picked up some food. Tabouli salad, hummus, olives, pita bread. I hope this is okay?"

"Perfect!" Suddenly realizing he was sitting in front of his beautiful student with his butt half hanging out, he asked, "Um, did you by any chance bring some clothes?"

"Oh yeah. I didn't know what to bring, so brought some stuff to mix and match."

Gregg opened the bag and spilled its contents out on the bed. He picked out a pair of boxers, his jeans and the button-down shirt. Grabbing his shaving kit, he stood up and headed to the bathroom.

With the rising sun behind him at just the right angle, Heather's eyes opened wide when she saw the silhouette of his monster cock hanging between his legs through the near-transparent material of the hospital gown. Unbeknownst to Gregg, the room suddenly became very warm for her and a bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. Her own dreams flooded into her brain. She had visions of herself sucking on his tasty cock and riding him to multiple orgasms.

She was brought out of her reverie with the sound of the sink being turned on. While he shaved, Heather walked over to the bed and began packing his unwanted clothes back into the bag, leaving his palm pilot and notebook out. She saw a bit of red peeking out from under the pillow. Lifting it, she saw a pair of bright red panties lying there on the sheet. She felt her face turn as red as those panties when she realized that Emily had on a bra the same color. 'So that's why she was so jumpy!' Her emotions jumped from one to another in seconds. First she felt amusement at discovering her little secret. Then she was jealous that this cute little nurse had fucked the very man she was dreaming of last night. Jealousy was quickly replaced with lust as she pictured Emily's small frame being pierced with that mammoth cock. Bringing it to her face, she could still smell the girl's sweet-musky odor on the material. Again, thoughts and desires started spinning in her brain. She wanted Dr. Walters for herself, but she didn't begrudge Emily her fun. The only thing she finally found herself jealous over was that she knew Emily was his first, and that was a prize she missed having. 'How did I know he was a virgin before her? ... well, other than some of the more obvious clues... ' her brain pondered, but the sudden silence of the sink derailed her train of thought. Quickly stuffing the panties back under the pillow, she pulled the chair up to the bed and took a seat.

Looking toward the bathroom, she saw the professor's shadow on the wall just outside the door made by the light coming from the vanity. She saw the shadow reach behind his head and untie the knot holding the gown closed. It dropped to his feet and Heather's jaw dropped at the shadow of his tremendous cock dangling at about a twenty-degree angle from his legs. He put on his boxers and his jeans and exited the bathroom. Heather continued to stare agape at him as he walked shirtless into the room. For someone who spent his time with books, Dr. Walters was in remarkably good shape. He had well-defined pecs and a six-pack set of abs. His arms also had noticeable definition.

Gregg was noticing the same thing. Moments before, after he got his pants on, he noticed that they felt loose and that he'd need a belt. 'I must have lost weight while unconscious.' He also noticed his new physique in the mirror. He didn't remember being in such good shape.

Gregg exited the bathroom, looking down at his torso, flexing his muscles, and running his hand across his abs. Something really strange was going on, and he just couldn't wrap his brain around it. He looked up to see Heather sitting there, staring at him. He had completely forgotten that she was there. He thought her shock was because he was walking around shirtless with his jeans ready to fall off. He quickly turned around away from her and mumbled, "Sorry, I forgot you were here." He grabbed his belt and put on his shirt.

Heather saw how well defined his upper back was as he pulled up the shirt. The pants were baggy, like his pants were two or three sizes too big. He pulled the belt to its tightest hole to keep his pants from falling down. The shirt was old and worn, like so many of the ones she saw in his closet. Like the gown, it let a lot of light through and Heather could still see much of his body underneath. He even left a few buttons uncharacteristically undone.

"Will you join me for a late breakfast? After all, you brought it."

Heather was broken out of her staring by his voice and replied, "I'd love to."

She directed him to the head of the bed where he scooted back against the pillows, sitting legs-crossed. His hand slipped under the pillow and touched something there. He pulled it out only to see to his horror that they were Emily's panties. He quickly stuffed them back under the pillow, relieved to see that Heather had her back to him, getting their mini-picnic ready. She placed the rolling bed-table in front of him and began setting out the food she brought. Gregg watched her in silent awe. He chastised himself for averting his eyes for the past few months. She was beautiful, and he drank in that beauty. Her fiery red hair framed a gorgeous face. Her full, sensuous lips appeared moist, just made for kissing. Her slightly upturned nose was dainty and cute, surrounded by a few freckles. Her legs were long and ended in a perfect ass. Her waist was narrow and seemed even narrower in relation to her huge chest. Even with the top few buttons undone, the buttons in the middle of her chest strained to keep from being ripped open.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and looked up at her face and realized she had just said something to him. She was sitting cross-legged also on the bed on the other side of the table, holding out a plastic cup of olives out to him. Taking a guess as to what she had asked, he blushed and answered, "Yes, thank you..." and he grabbed a handful.

Heather smiled to herself. 'So, El Professor is human after all. I guess there's more to this man than he previously let on. Maybe that bolt of lightning finally woke him up or something... '

Emily stood outside Gregg's room as he and Heather began eating and talking. She watched unnoticed through the room's window, the blinds now open. She was intrigued by the redhead and the reaction her presence brought out in herself. There was a commanding presence about her, and she felt a need to ... to serve her ... somehow.

As she watched, the sounds of the hospital drifted away, leaving Emily in a sort of hypnotic void. Through the glass, she watched the pair, unable to hear what they were saying. Her vision fogged, and Gregg and Heather lost their details, becoming fuzzy human-like shapes. She looked down and saw of a thin rope seemingly made of light connecting Gregg to herself. It looked like pulses of energy were passing back and forth between them. Looking up again, she saw more intricate weaves of light start spinning around Gregg and Heather, wrapping themselves loosely around the two of them, forming a tangle of strands. Whereas the narrow strand connecting her and Gregg clearly attached the two of them, the multitude of ropes around Gregg and Heather were like loosely-tied knots, waiting for the final tug to connect them.

Somehow she knew that it was her responsibility to see that those knots were pulled tight.

Shaking her head, the sights and sounds of the hospital came back, as if the volume on a stereo was slowly turned back up to normal. She tried to remember what she had been thinking about a moment ago, but couldn't remember. Shrugging, she turned and headed down the hall. She had things she needed to take care of before her shift ended.

And so they ate. They talked and they ate. It was their first real conversation and Gregg couldn't believe how easily it flowed. They talked about his research, classes she'd taken so far, their interests, etc. As comfortable as it felt, Heather could tell he was hiding something given how he blushed anytime she mentioned the nurse, Emily. But embarrassment was a two-way street. Gregg also noticed how she would redirect the conversation when it touched on what she did before reentering school. She said that she was a waitress, but there was more she wasn't telling. Despite that, their conversation was relaxed, like old friends getting reacquainted. When their eyes would meet, Gregg would find himself lost in their deep green radiance. When their hands touched reaching for the same piece of food, Heather got goose bumps up and down her arms.

The food disappeared, Gregg having eaten the lion's share of it. Finally sated, Heather began clearing away their napkins and trays. Gregg grabbed his palm pilot and checked his email. He was glad the hospital had a Wi-Fi hub near his room. There really wasn't anything of importance except for a letter from the dig's landlords asking for an update on the project. He frowned, not wanting to deal with the problem yet. It also occurred to him that the dig timeline was over in a few weeks. He turned off the palm pilot and sat back, holding his hand to his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose.

Heather was suddenly worried by the stress on his face. She wanted to sit next to him, lay her head on his chest and soothe away his troubles — and was about to when she reminded herself that despite their relatively close ages, she was still his student. Instead, she sat at the foot of the bed, chewed her lip, and asked if everything was okay.

Gregg looked up, surprised by her worried look. "Oh, it's nothing. Just making a difficult decision. I'll tell you about it later." Heather looked somewhat relieved, accepting his answer. She finished clearing away the plates and sat in the chair at the foot of the bed.

"Tell you what Heather, I have an idea. I think we need to have a party tonight. Do you have piece of paper?" Heather shook her head no, not believing the words coming out of his mouth. Before today, Dr. Walters was as anti-social as they came. He reached around to his backpack and tore a sheet out from his notebook and handed it to her along with a pen. He proceeded to give her a shopping list of supplied they'd need which included, to her surprise, liquor. He didn't know anything about what kinds to buy and left it up to her to choose, with explicit instructions to buy enough food and drinks for everybody to have a good time. She was about to question his decision to serve the boys alcohol, given that they were all under 21, but he headed off her protests. "They've ... you've all worked hard all semester. It's not illegal here, so let's let them enjoy. We'll just be careful to make sure nothing gets out of hand." Heather was doubly surprised by both his uncharacteristically carefree attitude as well as his use of "we."

Heather was about to question him further, when Emily entered the room with a wheelchair. "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm supposed to take Dr. Walters down to the therapy suite now." Emily looked nervously at the pair sitting on opposite ends of the bed.

Gregg and Heather both stood. "I'll be back at the dig in a few hours after I sign a few thousand more forms. The University's insurance paperwork alone will take at least an hour!" He patted his pockets for his keys, and realized he didn't have them. He looked up at Heather only to see them dangling from her index finger in front of an outstretched arm.

"Looking for these?"

"Uh yeah." He reached for the keys and their hands brushed again, sending a jolt through her skin. Pulling two small keys off the key ring, he said, "This is the key to the lock box. It's hidden in the back corner of the closet, under the floorboard. Take out whatever cash you need to cover the shopping list. Don't tell the guys what I'm planning, but do tell them I'm coming back today and I expect them to be there. The other key is for my camper, but you already know that..." indicating his backpack on the bed. He placed the keys in her hand and the skin-to-skin contact made her take a deep breath. Out of his peripheral vision, Gregg could see her nipples pressing tightly against the fabric of her shirt.

Heather turned and left the room, stopping at Emily first to put her hand on her arm and tell her, "Take good care of him." Both women felt the electricity flow between them, Heather feeling a burst of energy and Emily feeling that strange sense of duty again. Both women blinked and Emily fought the desire to curtsy again. With that, Heather turned and left.

"Do I really need that?" Gregg asked, pointing to the wheelchair. "I feel fine."

"Hospital regulations."

He sat down and just as Emily was about to start their journey out the door, he said, "Wait. Before we go, I have something for you. You'd better take them, they've already almost gotten me in trouble." So saying, he reached under the pillow and extracted her panties. He walked up to her, standing so their feet were almost touching and he put them in her hand. She looked up into his eyes and his head came down to meet hers in a passionate kiss. He held her tightly against his body as their tongues entwined. He couldn't explain his sudden confidence, but he wasn't disappointed by her response.

She pulled away, breathless. Glancing out toward the door, she checked if anybody had seen them. "Sit in the chair and I'll take you down to therapy. My shift is technically over, but I asked if I could stay until you were checked out. Trust me, you'll enjoy this."

Gregg did trust her and sat in the chair. She wheeled it around and pushed him toward the elevators, probably faster than was technically safe — for Gregg or for the everyone else in the hall.

Down in the basement of the hospital, Gregg opened his eyes and relaxed his white-knuckle grip on the arms of the wheelchair. Emily definitely seemed to enjoy taking corners at break-neck speed. The room they were in was small and square with a tile floor and a row of pegs on the side walls with a bench underneath. The air was hot and humid, the smell of chlorine heavy in the air. There was a loud drone of a generator or a motor running from just behind the walls.

"Here we are, Hydrotherapy room #3," she said, flipping the lock on the closed door behind her. "I signed you out for a one-hour session. Normally, one of the massage therapists would do this, but I convinced him to let me have the practice. Besides, I'm sure you'll like my massage much better than his..."

Emily walked into the next room and Gregg heard the sound of water churning. Bouncing back into the changing room, Emily had Gregg stand up from the chair. She immediately began removing his clothes, humming to herself and practically bouncing with excitement. Once he was stripped naked, she told him, "Now, get into the pool. I'll be with you in a second."

He entered the next room which was rectangular with fluorescent lights on the ceiling. There were no windows or other doors. Set in the middle of the floor was a small L-shaped pool. The long end of the 'L' was actually a ramp leading into the smaller square-shaped hot tub. Gregg guessed it was so wheelchairs could be rolled in if the patient was unable to walk.

Stepping gingerly into the hot, churning water, Gregg shouted back into the dressing room, "How hot is this water? I feel like my toes are going to be boiled away!"

Emily entered the pool room, completely naked, a light sheen of sweat already covering her body. "103 degrees. Hot enough to relax away any muscle soreness, but cool enough to spend longer than fifteen minutes here. Now get in that tub!"

Gregg stepped fully into the tub, immersing himself up to his neck. Immediately the bubbling water began relaxing all his muscles ... all his muscles except for one. Watching Emily enter the pool with him had one special muscle doing anything but relaxing!