Call Room Night

The corridors were dim and quiet. Families were either at home or stretched out on the waiting-room benches. The entire hospital was in internal disaster mode. Heavy rain had been pouring for the last twelve hours, and the roads outside were already under two feet of water. The local news channels were calling it the worst monsoon flooding of the decade.

Big deal, they said that every year in Chennai. The entire coastal belt was underwater, and the city was still getting the worst of it.

It was after three in the morning and ambulances had stopped coming in hours ago. The streets were impassable to anything except the occasional army truck, and even those were struggling. The parking lot across the road was just a dark blur through the sheets of rain.

"Why did I have to choose Chennai for my residency?" Arjun muttered under his breath.

Power was out across most of the city, and the hospital was running on generator. All staff had been held over. None of the nurses, doctors or technicians could leave. No one was coming in to replace them either.

Lighting in the ICU was low, but the area was still full of activity. Surgeries were still going on and sick patients still needed care. The rain had started just after eleven in the morning and most of the nurses had been on duty since seven. It was now past two. Most of the residents, including Arjun, had been there since six the previous morning.

Arjun was exhausted beyond anything coffee could fix. He had already drunk so much caffeine just to stay upright and had eaten almost nothing. One more cup and he would probably end up as a patient himself. Right now a few minutes of sleep sounded better than anything else in the world.

Staff were rotating out in turns to shower and rest. Two units were still under renovation, but the rooms were finished enough to push in a couple of beds, and the showers worked. He decided not to go that far. There was an on-call room right across from the staff locker rooms, just around the corner from the ICUs. Most of the ICU staff had been using it because it was close enough in case of emergency. He hoped at least one of the three beds was free. Sleeping on the locker-room bench was the last thing he wanted.

He opted for a quick shower and a change of scrubs while he still had the chance. The water was hot, really hot, but the pressure was poor—more like a weak outdoor tap than a proper shower. All he had was the usual hospital soap and a small bottle of Johnson’s baby shampoo one of the nurses had given him earlier. It was better than nothing. The emergency lights barely reached the shower, and with the weak pressure it was not a great wash, but after more than twenty hours on his feet and half of them in surgery, it felt better than any waterfall.

He stepped out reluctantly, dried quickly and pulled on a fresh set of hospital-issue blue scrubs. His dirty underwear went straight into the locker. He had no clean pair left and did not feel like putting the used ones back on. What harm could come from going without for a while? Who would ever know?

He opened the call-room door quietly in case someone was already sleeping. The room was almost pitch black. The emergency light from the corridor did not reach much beyond the doorway, so he held the door open for a second to check the beds. Luck was with him—the cot in the corner was empty. He could not tell if anyone was on the bunk beds.

Carrying his small bundle of sheets he closed the door and walked to the empty cot. The room was completely dark now. He stripped off the old sheets—who knew who had slept there earlier—and started putting on the fresh ones. While he was doing that he heard someone shifting on the top bunk across the room. He finished quickly so he would not disturb them more than he already had. The sheets did not fit well and gave him a bit of trouble, so he left them as they were. Anything was better than the bare plastic mattress.

More shifting came from the bunk. He wondered who it was and whether he should say something. The movement stopped and he heard even breathing again. Probably one of the medical residents. The other two surgical residents were either in the OT or down in casualty. He decided to stay quiet. No point disturbing whatever little sleep they were getting. Soon enough one of their pagers would go off and both of them would be awake anyway.

He lay down, scrunched the flat pillow under his head, pulled the sheet up and waited. And waited. And waited.

Fuck.

Why could he not fall asleep? The person on the bunk was breathing softly, almost not a snore at all, just steady rhythmic breaths. At least someone was getting rest. The harder he tried to sleep, the more awake he became.

Shit.

He had one sure way to fall asleep, but he hesitated with the unknown sleeper only a few feet away.

"Forget it," he told himself.

He had not been with anyone except himself for months. This residency was brutal. He ate, slept and breathed surgery. There was no time for laundry or grocery shopping, let alone dating. And he was not the type to jump into a quick thing with someone from work. Too much chance of awkwardness later.

Great. Now his mind would not switch off and he was actually getting aroused just thinking about it. Quietly he slid his hand under the sheet and turned to face the wall. He untied the drawstring of his scrub pants and paused, listening. Nothing. No sound, no movement. Definitely asleep. He slipped his hand inside and began to touch himself. Going without underwear suddenly felt like a good decision after all.

He kept going, trying to stay completely quiet and conscious of every small sound. He did not want to wake the other person. Masturbating quietly is never easy, but on a plastic hospital mattress with rough sheets it felt especially loud.

He thought he heard rustling from the bunk. The mystery sleeper was awake. He realised that if he did not know who they were, they probably did not know who he was either. The movement stopped. Maybe they had just turned over.

Now he was nervous, wide awake and still hard. Might as well finish so he could sleep. He rolled back to face the wall, closed his eyes and started again, when suddenly he heard a soft thud on the floor and footsteps crossing the small room. He froze.

Shit. Shit. Shit. How embarrassing.

There was no doubt he had been caught. He knew the person was standing right beside his bed, but the room stayed silent except for a soft rustling sound. Then the side of his mattress dipped as someone sat or knelt on it. Before he could form a single word they peeled the sheet down and tossed it to the floor.

The pressure on the mattress disappeared for a moment and he heard the lock click on the door. Confusion hit him. When the person sat back on his bed he realised his pants were already down and the sheet was gone. He was completely exposed. The weight shifted closer and a small hand rested on his chest. He brought his hands up to stop them and ended up with handfuls of naked breast.

Holy fuck.

This was the point where he should have woken up from a crazy dream. But he did not. The breasts in his hands were soft, full, warm, medium-sized and perfect. Hard, pebble-like nipples pressed into the centre of his palms. They fitted his hands as if made for them. He had always loved firm nipples like that.

His heart raced and his half-soft cock sprang back to life, fuller and harder than he could remember. He tried to speak even though he had no idea what he would say. Only a strangled sound came out before she shushed him with a whispered "Shh" and a finger on his lips.

His mind was racing. What was happening? She straddled him and started tugging his scrub pants the rest of the way off. Some part of him thought he should stop this, but that part was already useless. Here they were.

She shifted closer and her hair fell around his face in a long fragrant curtain just before she kissed him. Soft at first, then stronger, biting and sucking on his lips. He was still trying to understand what was going on, but his mouth took over. He kissed her back, open-mouthed, tongues meeting. It felt like her tongue was fucking his mouth. His cock was throbbing hard.

His hands found her hips and he realised she was completely naked. Her skin was soft over a firm, taut backside. He ran one finger down the cleft of her ass while the other hand played with her hard nipples. She moaned into his mouth and pressed her breast harder into his palm. His finger drifted lower and found her already wet. Her mouth moved to his neck and ear. He slid one finger into her tight, hot, waxed pussy and felt her clench around it. She moaned again and started nibbling the other side of his face, from ear to jaw and back. Her hair smelled of some flower mixed with a light herbal scent, sweet and a little spicy.

He tried to speak again. She stopped him.

"Shh. No talking."

He could not recognise her voice from the whisper and could see nothing in the pitch dark. His mind was spinning, trying to figure out who she was, but he was too distracted by her on top of him, his finger inside her, and what she was doing to his neck. He turned his head and captured her mouth again, letting his tongue explore. She matched him stroke for stroke. She tasted faintly of cinnamon, with soft full lips. While they kissed he parted her folds and found her swollen clit. She was very wet. He pressed his finger against the small button and worked it back and forth. Her hips circled and she moaned into his mouth. Her breathing quickened when she broke the kiss.

He gripped her hips, turned her around so she faced away from him, and slid down the bed until her pussy was over his face. He licked her dripping folds, breathing in the subtle, spicy, womanly scent of her. He pushed his tongue inside while his finger kept rubbing her clit. She was not quiet anymore. She moaned and pressed herself harder onto his mouth, forcing his tongue deeper.

Her small hands found his thick, throbbing cock and began stroking, light at first and then firmer. Then she took the head into her mouth, circling it with her tongue and exploring the slit. Suddenly she took him all the way in until he felt the back of her throat, squeezing the base at the same time. Her tongue worked over his swollen length while her hands stroked what her mouth could not reach.

He kept thrusting his tongue into her while his finger spelled slow circles on her clit, trying to last longer because what she was doing to him was incredible and he wanted her to come first. She spread her legs wider and sucked harder on the upstroke while grinding against his face. One soft hand explored his balls and the sensitive skin behind them with gentle pressure. Her breathing turned into quiet pants and then louder moans as her hips moved faster. He felt her walls begin to quiver and tighten. He kept the pressure on her clit and suddenly she clenched hard around his tongue as her orgasm hit.

He lifted his hips a little for more friction. His balls tightened and he knew he was close. He tried to pull away so he would not come in her mouth, but she held him firmly and pressed that spot behind his sac harder. He could not stop. He came hard into her mouth, shaking with the effort not to thrust too deep. He thought he said something about god, but he was not sure.

She licked him clean while he kissed her soft folds and the curve of her ass. With a satisfied little sound she turned around and kissed him gently. He could taste himself on her tongue. His hands ran over her silky hair and down her back. Her perfect breasts pressed against his chest.

She whispered something in that still-unrecognisable voice. His cock hardened again instantly. He heard the soft crinkle of plastic and felt her roll a condom down his length. He held her hips, positioned her over him and pushed in. She was extremely tight. Just the head at first, then he pulled back.

She whimpered when he left her. He pressed in again while his finger found her clit and traced slow circles. Inch by inch he filled her completely. She tried to move but he held her hip still, teasing her. He flexed inside her and felt her squeeze back. She was so tight he needed a moment or he would finish before they even started.

He kept working her clit, alternating circles and light pinches. Soft whimpers came from her as she tried to rise and fall on him. He held her down and said quietly, "Not yet."

He wanted her body to adjust so he would not hurt her, because when he finally moved he intended to go hard. He wanted to kiss her while he was inside her, so he shifted them until they were face to face against the wall. The small movement made his cock jump. He stroked her hair, pulled her mouth to his and began to move slowly. Their tongues matched the rhythm below. She started circling her hips in figure eights. He groaned and thrust harder and faster while his finger stayed on her clit. Her breathing sped up and her hips met every stroke. He was driving into her hard enough that he expected pain, but her sounds were pure pleasure.

He was close but he wanted her with him. His free hand slid down her back to her ass and one finger pressed gently against the tight entrance there. She gasped but never slowed. He could feel his cock moving against that finger through the thin wall between them. Her breathing became rapid and then she came hard, the rhythmic squeezing pulling him over the edge with her. He groaned, pushed deep and emptied himself inside the condom. She slumped against him, her breath hot on his neck. They stayed like that for a few minutes while thoughts started spinning through his head.

Who is she? And what the hell just happened?

Suddenly she moved off him, removed the condom and cleaned him with a towel he had not even noticed. She dressed in the dark, leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. She pulled the sheet back over him and whispered near his ear,

"Thanks for the ride. Goodnight Arjun. Sweet dreams."

Then she opened the door and was gone before he could see any detail of her face or form.

He sat there against the wall, pants somewhere in the bed, naked from the waist down under the sheet, and felt sleep pulling at him despite the thousand questions in his head. The last time he looked at his watch it was 2:30. He fell asleep thinking he had just had the most intense sex of his life.

Beep. Beep. Beep. His pager went off. He checked the time—4:15. The number was the ICU nursing station with a 911 at the end. That meant real trouble.

He grabbed the phone and called back. Mrs. Meenakshi in bed 33 was crashing; they were preparing for a code. He hung up, pulled his pants on and the whole night rushed back. It felt surreal, like a dream. Was it a dream? He took his penlight and looked around.

The beds were rumpled but empty. He switched on the light and searched for proof he was not losing his mind. Nothing in the bin. No towel. Then, under the sheet, he found the torn edge of a condom wrapper. He pocketed it. At the door he kicked something small and metallic into the corridor. A tiny gold nursing pin, the kind many staff wear on their badges.

That and the wrapper proved it had really happened. And she had called him by name. She must have seen him in the light from the corridor when he came in. As he ran toward the ICU he could not stop wondering who she was.

The overhead speaker announced code blue, bed 33. He ran faster, rounded the corner and skidded to a stop outside the room where almost every nurse on the unit was working on Mrs. Meenakshi. Another resident was already there.

He took a moment to look at the nurses, searching for the woman with the perfect breasts, firm backside and long hair. Many had long hair, but the baggy hospital scrubs made everything else hard to judge. He touched the small pin in his pocket, determined to find out whose badge was missing it—and to find the mystery nurse who had just turned his night upside down.