Aunt Cathy Pt. 46

{Disclaimer: All characters in this piece are eighteen or over}

“Can you feel your toes and hands?”

Those are seven words you never want to hear when you’re trying hard to orientate.

I couldn’t hear right. Everything was cotton eared and every light I saw was drifting, (you ever drank too much and got the bed spins?) The muffled sounds were being caused by Popoffs hockey pants clamped around my head, the lights were just the rink ones filtering across my eyes as my brain tried to find its way home.

“Yes or no man! Can you move em?”

They all worked. “Yeah.”

“Good. You move anymore I’ll put you out again.”

a

I’d been lit out before, this wasn’t the first time, and Pop usually had a good natured rib to go with getting me back on my feet. There was no larking on this one. When our eyes met I got scared.

A few years back we’d been hunting and on the return trip had to navigate a narrow gully. He was leading and turned to say something when he froze. I did the same at the sight of him.

He was Stone faced, his baby blues looked like coal. He brought the rifle up; pointed it right at my head; and fired. A headless rattlesnake plopped at my feet. It had fallen from the upper bank, landed in a tree, and had been hanging (more than a little pissed) right at my neck. I didn’t know a damn thing about it till Pop took its head clean off with one shot. He wasn’t playing around then, and he was not playing around now.

“Pop? What the fuck man?”

He glanced up to a monitor that would not have been there barring the Dawsons’s media affiliation. And that was irony, on irony, on irony. What I saw put something in me I’d never felt before. For the very first time in my life, I was terrified.

Mr. Doug Dawson owned an aluminum shafted stick. It was pretty much impossible to separate blade from shaft, but two and a half seconds out of the box he turned and brought it down scythe style on the back of my neck… the blade shattered: I dropped. Pop had to reinstate the don’t move codec as his thighs let up and the rink sounds began to fade in.

Refs were having a hard time keeping players apart, the house was a flame in boos (nobody was cheering) and I distinctly heard mom, at the top of her voice yelling, “DON’T TELL ME SHIT!” Absolute chaos in a place, where if it were to happen at all, should of been on ice, not in the stands. I’m not stupid, I knew it was based around me, but the semantics of it?

Every player of any kind of sport has a dread moment. In hockey it’s the sound of end boards opening, then quickly being followed by shoes shuffling across the ice. The monitor above me didn’t help when I saw the gurney and backboard being hauled out with them. Our doc was right along frantically giving orders and toting some bright orange roll of stuff.

Whereas Clayton’s dad liked to mess with metal, doc was a polymer man. The orange roll was a thin plastic sheet (something akin to say ten heavy duty kitchen saver bags) that turned to a slab when it met cold. It eradicated the need to flip a person over, insert a backboard, then flip them back again. That was slid under me and in a few minutes I was shuffled out on the gurney to the obligatory applause.

Teams may battle it out on and across the ice, but when the Wolves E.M.T’s found out our ambulance (league provided… nobody want’s to get sued) had been boxed in by the media, they wasted no time in getting me in their rig and off to the hospital. Kudos to them, thumbs down to the press. Those ass-hats were all over me and the techs looking for any scrap they could find.

I didn’t find out till much later they’d gone after mom, Mitsy’s husband had taken one reporter out with an Ali right, and she’d gotten sent to the clink for the same thing, just a different gender. Wanna guess which lady reporter? Yup, the one that needed the apple.

After we got off I didn’t see, or hear, nothing from anyone I knew till a few hours had passed. The first clue someone familiar was in the hospital came from of all people dad. He was (verbally) on top of the doctor demanding to know what the hell was going on with his son and got shut down fast.

“You sir, are going to have to wait. Your son is not in any mortal danger. I unfortunately can’t say that for one of my patients. Sit down, shut up, or I will have you ejected.” Dad knew when to take advice and silently sat down. The next familiar voices I heard were of mom and Cathy, they were feverishly asking about me at the nurse’s station; dad’s voice interjected.

“He’s okay. Not going to leave us anytime soon. We gotta wait.” My parents ditched everything that had happened when I heard mom tell dad to hold her. Cathy? She snuck by the nurses and peeped in, her eyes red from tears, whispering…

“Lover?”

She got a thumbs-up and a blown kiss. I got more tears from her, all happy this time before she was caught and pulled away.

Two more hours later, a total of five (and I’m not bitching. E.r’s are battle hospitals) I still hadn’t talked to anyone but a doctor and some nurses. Didn’t hear a peep out of anyone I knew till I’d been settled into a room, and oh boy they got me ‘settled’ in good. Painkillers, buku (beaucoup) painkillers. I was high as a fucking kite and not giving a damn, just going with the flow. So when mom came in, (looking hot as hot) and sat beside me to give a kiss on the forehead, just like when I was four? I answered.

“Thanks mommy, what’s next? Ice cream and a blowjob?” I heard the guy next to me (hidden by a curtain) make an ‘erk’ sound and start coughing. Mom probably would of given my neck another thrashing if the doctor hadn’t come in. “YO! Bones! What’s up doc!” They both just looked at me pitifully as I broke out in riotous laughter.

Mom wasn’t happy. “I’m sorry doctor.” He just laughed.

“No worries, it’s fine. He’s going to be pretty giddy for a few, but he’s fine, nothing broken or cracked, spine is fine. He does have a good bit of swelling going on so watch for headaches. We’re going to keep him overnight for observation but I’m sure he’ll be fine, just sore for a few weeks.” I lost it when mom said ‘fine’ again.

“Fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine, fine. Hey, dude next door! You fine?” He cracked and mom asked bones if they could sew my mouth shut. Doc found that hilarious, I got horrified and said, way, way too loud…

“Don’t do that! How am I supposed to eat you or Cathy’s pussies?” Dude next door let out a very loud, humor-infused ‘HOLY SHIT!!’

Mom hellishly hissed ‘Will you shut up’ and again apologized. Doc did not help when he answered “Oh that’s fine.” My mother plopped on the end of the bed, head in hands, as me and my roomie ripped into another bout of laughter. “But you young man need to thank whoever gave you this.” He handed Clayton’s gift of a neck guard to mom. “It is the only thing that has kept you out of a quadriplegic life.”

That put a deeply serious mood into the room as the doc left. “Can I see that mom?” It wasn’t even slightly bent. “I think I’m going to be working for Clayton’s dad, on the free, till I’m eighty.” There was a nod of agreement from mom as she gripped my hand. Didn’t last long before, “HELLOOOO NURSE!!” blew out of my mouth.

A nurse. A very bosomy, sexy-gaited, and in an actual nurse’s uniform type nurse came in. Raven haired with pouty lips that just screamed your dick don’t stand a chance she began to reprove me and roomie. We’d been loud. “Gentlemen this is a hospital. Keep it down.” I was the only one that heard it though. We’d both got the painkillers at the same time… he was sawing logs.

I got in dutch again, and it wasn’t just my lips this time.

I’ve always had a fantasy about nurses, this lady was only missing the high heels and me underneath her to be a screenshot right out of one. Mom hadn’t been helping. Those suede thigh high boots were covering a very tight faded set of blue jeans. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so that body suit let her nipples shine hard and proud, if you’ve ever been in a hospital you know they are cold. Her jeans were causing the majority of the problems though.

Those jeans had been around for years. Off the rack they were skin huggers, now they just molded on to every curve, and her pussy lips were not an exception. They made a perfect crease in the fabric, the ultimate camel toe. The pregame jitters may have done a ton to keep my imagination and hormones down but they were gone now. Adding the good news I was ‘fine’ just alleviated more tension, the drugs found their way right to my dick.

To truly appreciate what happened next you would of had to splice a strobe light set of images that flickered between the three of us. My cock made a mad dash north as mom and the nurse’s eyes widened. There was no way to hide it, and I got the distinct impression that neither of the ladies really minded. Still, I felt, kinda sorta, a bit bad.

“Shit. I’m so sorry nurse, your just… man if you had stilettos on you’d be right out of a furious jack-off dream.” Any care mom had about my neck was annihilated with that and she clamped a hand over my mouth almost breaking my teeth.

“OH MY GOD! SHUT UP!” Her other hand went to her forehead as she started profusely apologizing. The nurse patted mom on the shoulder.

“last night I had a young lady in here that spent the good part of forty-five minutes explaining how she’d go about giving her teacher a blow job.”

“Oh my lord, awkward.”

“Yeah. But I picked up some good tips.” Mom giggled and the nurse gave a friendly squeeze to mom, to me she threatened a mach forefinger flick to my cock head and advised we pull the curtain around the bed. “I think I’ll shut this door also.” Mom didn’t see it, she was too busy switching glances at my cock and face, but that nurse gave me a wink of epic proportions before the door closed.

I knew I was going to get what for, and then some, the second that door clicked, but I beat her to it.

“Don’t you yell at me this is largely your fault.”

“Oh really!? And how do you figure that?” I motioned her to come stand by the side of the bed.