Nurse Simone

(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited. Characters under 18 do not engage in sexual activity.)

(This story is the property of its author, H. K. Smythe. Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited. Characters under 18 do not engage in sexual activity.)

Nurse Simone

Nurse Simone

Jonathon Summers

I always liked doing things with numbers. I even enjoyed my homework. When I went to college I majored in accounting because I knew I would be working with numbers all day. Since I did well academically in high school, I matriculated at UT Austin, declaring that I would major in accounting. I actually ended up in a five-year program with summers to get a BBA in Accounting, BS in Economics, and a master's in professional accounting.

There were a few problems with my academic program. One, it would take five years, even with my attending summer school for four summers, and two, there were fewer women than men in accounting and the women who were in the accounting program were mostly not interesting to me. Although not wealthy, my parents were able to support my plan, even though there would be a period when my older brother, younger sister, and I would all be in college at the same time. My solution to the second problem was to take a weekly evening class in social dancing. I found out that I really enjoyed meeting horny nurses.

Then I meet Simone. I was again looking for a hookup in the social dancing classes, and she was a dream. Somewhat similar to me, she got enough nursing during the day and preferred to talk about things other than nursing and accounting in her evenings, which was fine with me. I knew from the beginning that there very few people in the world who wanted to hear about debits and credits. I think I was not the only one with a similar attitude toward the finer points of chemistry and drug interactions.

I wouldn't say that Simone was drop-dead gorgeous; however, I found her to be one of the sexiest women I had ever met. She had a Korean mother and Hispanic father and so her skin tone was light olive. I thought it was perfect, like she always had a deep tan. At five-foot-nine, 37D-25-37, and 145 pounds, she was perhaps a little plump in some people's eyes, but for me she was perfect. At times, she seemed to be almost insatiable in the bedroom. That was all right by me. Frequently our sessions approached an hour. We would do multiple positions. Sometimes I would go fifty minutes straight, other times we would go shorter and challenge my powers of quick recovery. She was usually well satisfied by the end and liked to cuddle as we drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

For the Spring Semester of my senior year and her junior year we moved in together. Finally, at New Year's of her senior year and my master's year, I proposed to her. The only disconcert for me is that she spent many hours with her colleagues male and female studying for some of the challenging exams. I never had any reason to doubt her fidelity. I got a good job offer from an international accounting firm's Dallas office and she agreed to my accepting it. She was confident that she could get a job at one of the Metroplex's many hospitals and medical centers, and accepted a job offer at a major hospital between our suburban target area for a home and downtown where my firm's offices were located. She passed the RN certification process with flying colors and I did similarly with the CPA. We were still living in a North Dallas apartment, while saving money for a down payment.

After working for five years in Dallas, we made a down payment on a five-bedroom home in the suburbs. Simone had become a Senior Surgical Nurse, and I had become a Supervisor, which meant that I was kept busy supervising the Senior Accountants on several simultaneous engagements. We began working on baby making and soon Simone was pregnant with our first. It didn't seem like life could get much better than this.

After Cindy's birth, Simone returned to work and we hired a middle-aged lady named Molly to take care of Cindy during the day while helping out with cooking and cleaning chores. Although I was able to work fewer hours following my days as a staff accountant and senior accountant, the opposite seemed to be the case with Simone's career. It seemed that each promotion was accompanied by an increase in the number of hours she worked. Her regular pay reflected this and was slightly greater than mine, although my annual bonus was enough to pull my total compensation ahead of hers. Our joint income tax reflected income of over a quarter of a million dollars a year.

When Carl was born, we followed the same routine although it did slightly increase the burden on Molly, Simone, and me. It was similar when Randy came. Unfortunately, things didn't seem to get back on track after Randy's birth. While in the hospital with Randy, Simone had her tubes clipped. This seemed to initially improve our physical intimacy but then things began to slow down. I wondered what was going on. What I found on the internet indicated that normally any change in sexual activity after tubal ligation was positive. It also seemed that when she became a CVOR nurse, working solely with cardiovascular surgeons, both her pay and her hours went up significantly. Now it was often seven or eight before she left work, having started at seven. She still seemed to enjoy our lovemaking, but it seemed less energetic and less frequent except on the weekends.

Simone

I knew when I first met Jon that he was special and over the next year and a half my feelings only grew stronger. I was happy when he proposed to me and even happier when we married. We started an idyllic life in Dallas as we worked to build a life together and to achieve success in our careers. There was never any doubt in my mind that I had chosen the right career although the rigors of being a surgical nurse were significant. I assisted the doctors in patient operation prep and also in post op follow up. The actual surgical theater was a cauldron of stress and accompanying emotions.

Jeff Oberholtzer was one of the principal cardiovascular surgeons at our hospital and I frequently assisted him. We seemed to have a good rapport, but it was a purely professional relationship. I had been a senior CVOR nurse for only a few weeks when he took me aside and asked to meet with me. We got together in one of the pre/post op rooms near the surgical theater.

He asked me, "Simone, how are you dealing with the stress? It's one of the more difficult parts of our field, is it not?"

I replied, "Yes, it's a problem. I'm never quite sure what I'm going to be like when I get home. Sometimes I feel like jumping on my husband's sex, other times I feel like yelling at him or the kids. I feel like it's something I need to improve on."

He explained, "I've been doing this longer than you have and I have the same problem. It's particularly acute for the lead surgeon and I suspect, the senior nurse."

I admitted, "I can only speak for the senior nurse, and I'm still trying to figure it out."

He suggested, "Why don't you slip out of your scrubs and let me try to help you. I'm not only a competent surgeon, but a pretty good masseur!"

It seemed a little strange, but I guess I was curious, so I found myself divesting my scrubs. He asked me to lay on the bed and clad only in my panties, bra, and socks, I did as he asked. He massaged my back, calves, thighs and then my buttocks. It did feel good. I told him, "If feels good, doctor, but what about you?"

He replied, "It's Jeff, and believe or not this is relaxing to me, too. Backside's done; you can roll over now?"

Everything had been on the up and up so far so I did as he instructed. He started on my upper arms, then worked my shoulders. He then moved to my thighs. My upper thighs needed the work; however, when he moved to my inner thighs, I realized I was becoming aroused. He then worked my flanks some. He then went to work on my chest, outlining my breasts but not doing more until he went to work on my mouth with his lips, my pubis with his right hand and my right breast with his left hand. Involuntarily, I moaned, and then realizing I was in trouble, I exclaimed, "Jeff, no, you're going too far!"

He responded, by reassuring me, "It's okay, Simone," but also moving his right hand inside my panties and pushing my bra up and above my breasts giving his busy left hand unfettered access to my nipples as he continued to explore my mouth with his tongue. I continued panting and moaning, but limited my protests to muttered, "No!"s and ineffectual pushing against his arms and hands. The truth was that I was yielding to a man who was not my husband. He quickly pulled his lower scrubs and underwear off and joined me on the bed. I could feel his manhood, erect and pulsing against my inner thighs and pubis.

When he pulled my panties down, I lifted my hips to facilitate their removal. It just felt fantastic as he slowly entered my soaking wet kitty. My protests became unintelligible moans and groans as I panted with suppressed passion and lust. The truth was that I wanted him to be inside me and soon he was, he began pounding me unmercifully. I ground my hips back at him and suddenly I found myself in the throes of a convulsive climax.

Undeterred he continued ramming himself into me. I could fell my arousal rising higher and higher and soon I was experiencing another body-shaking orgasm. Another few minutes of his banging my brains out and I could feel him preparing to ejaculate. He whispered, "Inside or out?"

I responded, "Inside, please. I've been clipped!"

We had saved the best for last as I came one last time, bucking my hips and squeezing him with my Kegels.

We lay silently after he rolled off me. I said, "I need to go and fix supper for Jon and the children."

He answered, "Yes, Sharon will have dinner ready and waiting for me. I'll see you tomorrow."

I replied, "Good night, Jeff!"

We quickly dressed and left after checking the corridor. I didn't know what would happen the next day. I couldn't help my feelings. I felt really good and looking forward to being reunited with my husband and children.

Sad to say, we did the same the next day and the next and the next. It just felt good to have a quick fuck after the stresses and strains of another in the surgical theater. I tried not to let it affect anything in my home life and for a while, I seemed to be successful.

Jon

I didn't like the idea of spying on her, but I was beginning to have my doubts about what was going on during the sixty-plus hours a week she was spending at the hospital. I talked to an investigative agency and they informed me that hospital security would make it difficult to obtain any direct evidence. They could probably obtain insights in to what was going on during long workdays by frequenting bars in the hospital vicinity, but it would only be word-of-mouth. I thought the first thing was to learn if anything was going on. If it was, we could up the ante for obtaining evidence. I had little insight into how Simone spent her days, since we didn't talk a lot about our work. Our conversations tended to be concentrated on the children and current events. It did seem that we talked less about our relationship than was previously the case.

It was almost a month before the private investigator got back to me. He admitted that most of what they had was smoke, not fire. He said that surgery usually did not start after four pm and rarely ran later than six. This meant that there were hours unaccounted for at the end of the surgical day. Other contributing factors included the ready availability of beds in the vicinity of the surgical theaters, and the attractiveness of doctors, nurses, and technicians on surgical teams. The investigator concluded that there were significant rumors involving hanky-panky amongst the surgical team but no direct evidence. No one claimed to have observed anything going on.

It seemed that I had wasted my money as there was no direct evidence to support a confrontation. I decided to try a non-confrontational approach. I just didn't know how to go about it. I needed something slightly more subtle then 'Who have you been fucking lately, Simone?'

I decided to make a hopefully subtle approach based on a fantasy. One night, as we were completing our preparations for bed, I asked, "Simone, do you ever fantasize about the eligible surgeons?"

I was shocked when she replied, "I think all of the female nurses fantasize about the male staff. The surgical theater is a very intense, stressful place. The use of a scalpel on or near the heart is incredibly dangerous and consequently very stressful. A shared concern is taking that stress home and kicking the dog or barking at the spouse and children."

I suggested, "It must be tempting to seek relief with your coworkers."

She replied, "More than tempting. Once you start seeking physical relief, it almost becomes an addiction."

I inquired, "It sounds like you may have sought relief yourself."

She responded, "I haven't wanted to keep it a secret from you but I've been afraid to tell you. I love you very much and I've been afraid you would see it as an attack on you or at least an indication you hadn't been a good husband. The truth is that you've been a great husband and I love you very much. I don't love Jeff, but he has given me a way to decompress before coming home to the husband and children I love so very much."

I asked, "How long have you been doing this?"

She answered, "Almost since I became a CVOR nurse. Honey, please don't hate me! I love you so very much. I hope we can get past this. I'm glad I told you. Right now, I want you to make love to me more than ever."

I told her, "I don't hate you. I'm a little confused about my feelings right now, though. Do you plan to continue doing this Jeff?"

She explained, "Jeff and I have similar beliefs about this. This isn't love; at most it's friends with benefits. We both think of this as being able to put the surgical theater behind us and being ready to return home and relate to our families."

I continued, "So, you want to keep on doing this for 'stress relief.'"

She said, "Right now, I feel better about us than ever. I'm hoping you will be the understanding husband you have always been. I love you now as much, if not more, than I ever have. I hope you feel the same way about me."

I asked, "Do you think you should have told me about this earlier?"

She replied, "Yes, but I was afraid, you would see me as a cheating whore, rather than a woman trying to live a good life and be a good spouse and mother."

I remarked, "I really don't like sharing you with this Jeff fellow."

She responded, "I want to talk to Jeff about this. I know he loves Sharon far more deeply than me. I would like for the four of us to get together. I think when you see Jeff and Sharon together, you will understand better what I'm talking about."

I inquired, "What about Jeff and Sharon's children. I assume they have children."

She explained, "Yes, but their children are older than ours. They're still at home, but mostly in high school. Jeff and Sharon are older than you and me."

I explained, "I just don't know if this is a good idea."

She informed me, "There are four of us primarily involved in this. I think you should meet Sharon and see her and Jeff together as additional reference points before you decide anything."

I told her, "I love you and I'm trying to keep an open mind on this. Talk to Jeff and see what he says about this."

Simone

After my surprise and un-premeditated big reveal Friday night. We had a somewhat uncomfortable weekend. Monday, after our after work 'stress relief' session, while we were getting dressed, I told Jeff that I had informed Jon of our work's 'stress relief' outlet. He replied, "I guess that means it's time for me to talk to Sharon."

I responded, "Yes, I suggested to Jon that it might be helpful for the four of us to get together, possibly this Friday or Saturday night."

He explained, "I guess I'll have a 'We need to talk!' session with Sharon tonight. If I survive that I'll bring up the get-together idea."

We left the hospital room and went home to our loving spouses.

Tuesday, at our 'stress relief' session, Jeff told me he had informed Sharon. She was not a happy camper but agreed to meet Jon and me before filing for divorce.

I'm sure we were all on pins and needles as our Friday night rendezvous approached. Jeff and Sharon were hosting us at a cookout in their backyard. Jeff was charming, and Sharon was civil as we introduced ourselves. We sat down at Jeff's picnic table, beers in hand, and Jeff explained that Sharon was hurt and insulted partly because she couldn't seem to grasp why 'stress relief' sex was a good thing for Jeff and I to be doing. Jeff was trying to be very affectionate with Sharon as Jon gave his point of view, "I don't really like the idea, but I can see where Jeff and Simone are coming from. A quick roll in the hay is a way to bring them some 'stress relief.' It seems that knowing about it has increased Sharon's and my stress, however."

Sharon exclaimed, "That's exactly right. That's what's so wrong about it. It's decreasing their stress but increasing ours."

Jeff commented, "I'm not trying to discount what Sharon is saying, but after Simone and I are together, I feel closer to Sharon, not Simone. It's like now I'm ready to be the husband and father that I want to be."

Sharon asked, "Do you feel the same way, Simone?"

I replied, "After being with Jeff, I just want to go home to Jon and my children. For me, it really is just a way to wipe away the stress of the operating theater and prepare me for my role as wife and mother."

Sharon inquired, "Jon, are you going for this bull shit?"

Jon answered, "Simone, I guess I still don't understand why you didn't consider discussing with Sharon and I ways that we could help you decompress from the stress of surgery?"

I responded, "After the first time, I think both Jeff and I felt that we had found a working solution to 'stress relief.'. I don't have a good answer for why we didn't talk it over with our spouses before doing anything else."

Jeff continued, "The stress was immediate and so was the solution. Maybe that's a rationalization but it's my best shot at a reason. It just happened the first time."

Sharon said, "I'd like to talk to Jon in private."

Jeff replied, "Why don't you go in the family room. Simone and I will clean up here."

Jon

I thought Sharon had a good idea. I wanted to know how she really felt about this. Of course, her first question was, "Jon, how do you feel about this?"

I responded, "Sharon, I love Simone, but I'm not certain the best solution to her post-surgical stress is for her to fuck Jeff."

Sharon commented, "I just can't help but think there must be a better way; however, I don't know what that is."

I admitted, "In the absence of a better solution, I'm inclined toward, letting them continue and see how it works for the next thirty days or so."

Sharon stated, "I feel a little like I've been backed into a corner, but I don't have anything better. Jeff has been a good husband and an excellent father. I guess I'll go along with your approach, at least for the near future."

I asked, "Shall we reconvene with our better halves?"

Sharon replied, "Yes, although I'm not sure but what you and I are the better halves!"

I laughed and agreed, "Right on!"

We went back into their backyard, and I gave our conclusion, "Sharon and I decided that we would give your arrangement a thirty-day test period following your plan. It'll be up to the two of you to convince us that this is the best solution for all concerned."