Apart from her normal duties as district nurse Bronwyn Pond took it upon herself to provide additional services, partly to make sure they regained their self-worth, but on occasions it was more intimate.
One of her all too familiar haunts was Shaftsbury Towers in Finchbottom, a rundown modern day slum tenement.
When she got there she found, not for the first time, that the lifts weren’t working and so she had to yomp up 15 flights of stairs up a stairwell that stank of piss.
She was more than a little flushed when she reached her destination, short of breath and short of patience.
Her first patient was Sharon Grogan, a pretty terminally ill 19 year old girl, who was quite naturally depressed.
Bron was almost 35 and very experienced in her field and she had watched many young people dying before their time.
Bronwyn knocked on the door and a moment or so later Mrs Grogan, the patient’s mother answered the door.
“Hello dear” she said
“Hello Mrs Grogan” Bron said “How’s the patient today?”
“The same” she said blankly “I don’t know how to help her”
“Just be supportive” she said
“It’s hard though dear” she said putting on her coat and going to the foot of the stairs.
“Sharon! The nurse is here” she shouted up the stairs “the pretty one with the blonde hair”
Bronwyn smiled and Mrs Grogan said
“You can go up when you’re ready, I need to do some shopping”
On that day Sharon was very down and begged Bronwyn to flick her off and she reluctantly agreed.
Well reluctant isn’t quite the right word, it wasn’t an unusual request, she was often asked, begged, for her intimate tender touch, by men and women and for the majority of times she was happy to oblige.
Because one important fact to remember about Bronwyn Pond was that she played for both teams.
When she reached the stairwell the lift opened and Mrs Grogan got out.
“Oh wonderful, they’re working again” Bronwyn said
“Yes dear, thank god” she said “How’s the girl?”
“You know, I think she’s a bit brighter” she replied
“Oh I do hope so dear” Mrs Grogan said
She was thankful that the lift was working again as she was feeling a bit leg weary.
She said her goodbyes to Mrs Grogan and stepped in and when she turned around she saw Tom Hughes jogging towards the lift.
Although she was often willing to accommodate the relief of patient’s urges, which she looked upon as purely medicinal, there she always drew a line.
She never, no matter what the circumstances accommodated family or friends of the patient.
But Toms mum wasn’t her patient anymore, so she pressed the hold button.
“Thanks” he said
“No problem, how are you? How’s your mum?” she asked as the lift began to descend
“Good” he replied
“I bet you are” she thought as she looked him up and down, fingering Sharon might well have brought her some relief but it had left Bronwyn very horny.
So she began flirting with him which was when the lift started rattling and shaking and then came to an abrupt halt and threw the pair of them into one corner.
“I don’t mind if I do” she said and kissed him.
Bronwyn was stood in the corner facing the wall like a naughty child, which was quite appropriate under the circumstances as she had her uniform rucked up around her waist and her tights halfway down her thighs while the bulk of her knickers were up the crease of her arse and her curly blonde pubes were clearly visible as was her pink oozing pussy.
Tom had just withdrawn his sticky dick from wet oozing minge and was in the process of putting it away.
“That was so good” she said “and so bad” and she almost purred,
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long” he said and gently slapped her bare arse.
“Me too” she panted and the lift started moving again.
By the time they had reached the ground floor she had redressed and was the picture of respectability again.
The only downside was that she had to complete the rest of her round with very wet knickers.
“C'est la vie” she thought to herself and smiled
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