THE ASTROMATES... Chapter 7...Part 2.

A continuation of my book

"Have you ever tried Yoga?" she asked.
Of course I had heard of this form of exercise but the thought of twisting my body into all kinds of contorted positions was not my cup of tea, unless, of course, the positions were like those shown in the Kama Sutra. (Yes, I did have the book, but only in paperback though!)
"Yoga? No, I haven’t tried it. Is it any good? I mean, will it help my posture, cure my bad back?"
I was on a roll now. I had Allison’s rapt attention with my cry for help and I wondered if she would like to try a few unnatural positions with me. I could almost see her starting to unroll her hair! I groaned in pain again, stiffening my back even tighter, the shoulder blades cutting into each other.
"Yoga is excellent for posture, as well as exercising the mind through meditation." said Allison.
Somehow I was not in favour of exercising my mind too much. Sexual frustration gives a mind plenty of exercise, stretching the imagination, as, no doubt, you well know! But I said nothing, looking at her with hound-dog eyes. Then I remarked, almost casually… "If I could get my back fixed, it would be marvellous. Why, I could even get back to work again."
Allison’s eyes glinted seriously behind the glasses, the health-conscious mind already working out a routine.
"What is your line of work, Richard?"
"An Airline Pilot." I lied, even shocking myself.
"Good gracious, Richard! And you’ve been grounded because of your back problem?"
Her eyes betrayed her interest. Here I was, in dire need, needing someone to help me regain the status I once held. It was plain for all to see… I needed her!
"Perhaps I can help you, Richard. You know, not all doctors understand there are other ways of healing. There are Homeopathic treatments and such things as Reflexology, which can work wonders if used correctly. Then there’s Acupuncture…"
"What’s Reflexology?" I asked quickly, moving away from the thought of Acupuncture, loads of needles sticking in me.
"It’s a foot-massage." Allison said, leaning forward. "Each part of the foot has its counterpart in the body. It’s hard to explain in one sitting but, I assure you, it does work."
"Can you do it, Allison? Will it help my back?" I grimaced in pain, arching my back. Allison watched my performance with a nurse’s sympathy, her head nodding.
"I’m sure I can help you, Richard." she replied softly, her mind made up. She sat, eyes rolled up in contemplation, the mind ticking over ideas. At last she laid out her plan of action. We had rounded off the meal with a cup of peppermint tea, (So good for the digestion.), then made our way, walking briskly through the park towards the large hospital building. Stopping to take in large doses of the crisp night air, Allison continued to discuss issues of health, spots, zits, dental hygiene, good stout brogue shoes and anything else which would be of benefit, all for my own good of course. Alex would have had a ball with her. In fact I think they deserved each other, him with his squiggly charts and her with her foot-massage. They could drive each other mad within a few hours. Why am I still with her? I’m still with her because of the crack, to open the ‘Magic Purse’! Mind you, I could see why Alex had called her chart ‘The Matron’. She did have that approach about her. Everything she said was like taking a dose of Caster-Oil along with a spoonful of Malt. At the rear of the hospital stood the nurse’s quarters, a solemn low-lying block of flats which seemed in need of a dire lick of paint. Allison urged me to be quiet. It seems nurses were not allowed male guests in their rooms. We made our way up to the second floor, passing nurses in the hallways, mostly in uniforms, crisp, starched, strong muscled legs in black… Allison pulled my arm, drawing my attention away from the giggling crumpet which passed us by. The room was neat, as I might have expected, clinically clean. The furniture, sparse, minimalist, was white melamine, each drawer having its own little sticker, proclaiming its contents. On the wall, to the left of the window, was pinned a list of Do’s and Don’ts. My eyes remained on the bed, a single iron bedstead with strong supporting legs. Everything in the room, the walls, the ceiling, the door, the small wardrobe, was antiseptic white, not a blemish to be seen.
"Take off your jacket, Richard." Allison directed and I groaned loudly as I complied so that she moved quickly to help relieve me of the cumbersome garment. Removing a small brown Teddy-Bear with button eyes from the bed, she said… "Sit down here." patting the bed invitingly.
I watched as she removed her suit jacket, stretching as she hung both our coats up in the wardrobe. It was a bit of a let-down. There were no large breasts swelling out a white blouse, as it had been in the film. Her breasts were small, cherries prodding the wool of her knitted jumper. Still, tits are all the same when a woman lies down, or so they say!
"I’ll just check my rota first, before we get down to it." she said, examining a list stuck to the back of the door.
I couldn’t wait to get down to it, whatever ‘It’ was! I swung my legs, lifting them from the carpet. Suddenly, with a steely look of determination, Allison pulled my legs down as she stooped on bended knees. Somewhat shocked and surprised by this assault upon my person, I opened my legs to allow her in. With swift, sure, movements, she untied my shoelaces and removed both, shoes and socks.
"Get on the bed, Richard." she demanded, breathing heavily.
Believe it or not, I’m no virgin. I mean, I have been known to shag my way through the night on one or two occasions. But I have never heard of the sex-act committed, dressed except for shoes and socks. I obeyed her instruction, grunting with pain so that she helped lay me flat with firm, nursing, hands. Rolling up the legs of my trousers, she went to the wardrobe, returning with a bottle of cream, smelling of antiseptic, of course. I’m not exactly sure what I expected as she began by rubbing the cream into my feet. Then the drubbing started as she began pummeling like a mule-skinner, twisting and tweaking, pushing and pulling at all the different parts of my feet. Somehow, the idea of having sex with Allison was having a waning effect, if this was her idea of foreplay!
"Does that feel good?" she inquired, giving the soles of my feet a good slap. I groaned. If I wasn’t in pain before I sure was now.
"You have quite flat arches." she panted as she tried to shore up the soles. I felt thumbs grind into the balls of my feet as she explained this action would release tension. If she’d have looked a little higher, she would have seen all the tension she liked! Please, my mind begged, please work upwards! I wanted to be like Tom, the lucky lad who put in his thumb and pulled out some cherries. God, what was I on about! Allison committed her whole energy to my feet, leaning over the end of the bed and lifting them as she worked. I even managed to twiddle my toes so they lightly caressed her cherries as she worked. Oh, Nursie, Nursie; let me into your ‘Magic Pursie’!
"There.", she said with finality, placing my feet back on the bed. I was done.
Was that all? If she noticed my excited trouser-rise, she gave no sign as she slid my feet down onto the floor and pulled me up into a sitting position.
"That’s amazing stuff", I said, much to her pleasure.
Not prepared to give up just yet, she leaned over me, her arms encircling as she rubbed at my back. I held myself rigidly in control, trying hard not to grab her in some wild embrace. I knew there were some women who liked to tease, there was a name for them but there was something so clinically clean about Allison, I began to think she had some virginity problem. I suspected her hymen had never been interfered with.
"Would you like to try some Yoga?" she asked, releasing me.
"I’ll try anything with you." I croaked.
"I won’t be long, Richard." she said, going to a drawer and retrieving some clothing. "Just popping to the bathroom to change." she finished, closing the door behind her.
I listened to the sounds of her feet as she clip-clopped her way to the communal bathroom. It gave me time to think, to contemplate the battle going on between my zip and erected flesh. If I didn’t control myself soon, my pride might well end up like my brain, scrambled!
Allison returned.
Whoa, boy! Her appearance got my juices flowing to over-boiling point! She wore a yellow leotard, the cherries topping a bowl of custard, her hair now hanging loose in a flow down her back. The glasses were gone, blue eyes healthily gleaming. My mouth was open, saliva dribbling down my chin. God, I was starving! I could have eaten her, leaving the cherries to nibble at the end of the meal! By her actions, she had no idea what was going on in my mind. Reaching under the bed, she withdrew a rug, which she spread on the floor in front of the bed. Seating herself on it, she contorted her slender legs under her.
"This is called the Lotus position." she said, rocking back and forth with practiced ease.
"Come, Richard, join me." she said, unlocking herself and moving along to make room. I squatted, uncomfortable, crossing my legs.
"No, no. Not like that, Richard." Allison laughed. "You look like a schoolboy."
If she’d cared to look closer, she’d have seen something every schoolboy would have been proud to own! I said nothing, trying to curl my legs under as she had done. Nothing happened except a loss of blood flow which diminished my erection and earned an ache in my crotch.
"Try to get your legs up, like this." said Allison, moving over to grip my legs with both hands and giving an almighty heave.
I shrieked in pain, falling backwards so my head crashed against the iron leg of the bed. I welcomed the darkness as it blacked out the pain.
I woke to the sounds, the sight, the smell of pain, of drums which throbbed through my skull so that jangled nerves danced to the rhythm. There were lights, bright and stark, which blurred into a pain-ridden haziness. There were smells of antiseptic and swishes of starch-white uniforms which informed me I was lying in a hospital bed, with an outsized turban of bandages swathing my head. I am ill, my body informed me, so terribly near death I could almost see the Grim Reaper at the foot of my bed.
"How do you feel?"
The Grim Reaper had become a white-coated doctor. What did he mean, how did I feel? That’s a bloody stupid question for a doctor to ask a patient, isn’t it? I mean, how does one answer it? Do I say… "Oh, I feel fine, doctor. Just lead me to the door and I’ll go frigging leap-frogging my way home!"
"Not too bad, doctor." I replied weakly as he leaned over me, prising up eyelids with deft fingers so we could see each other, eyeball to eyeball.
"You’ve had a few stitches in your head and a touch of mild concussion. We’ll keep you in here for a few days, just to make sure and then you can go home."
"Thank you, doctor." I said as he walked briskly to the next bed, where an elderly patient was in the middle of a convulsed fit.
"And how are you this morning?" I heard him say.
What do doctors know about pain? How could he tell my brain was sending me distress signals? Thank you, doctor; thank you for ensuring me I would leave in such excellent health! Thankfully, I drifted off into a drug-induced sleep.
"How are you, old chap?"
I blurred my vision open to see Alex’s watery blue eyes gazing down at me. His mouth moved as he chewed on the grapes, spitting the pips into a cupped hand.
"How did you know I was here?" I croaked.
"Allison phoned me and told of your accident."
"Where is she?"
My head ached although my mind was clearer now.
"Allison? Oh, they moved her to another hospital. It seems men were not allowed in the nurse’s quarters, something to do with insurance company policy. Anyway, they got rid of her, pronto."
It was visiting time, the ward full of bored visitors talking to bored patients, all waiting for the bell to ring departure time. Alex continued to look at me with pity, ruminating as he chewed on the grapes. The ringing of the bell kept in time with the ringing in my head and I thanked God Alex would be leaving me alone instead of hawking over me like some bird of prey.
"I must go, old bean." said Alex brightly, rising from the chair. "I might as well take the rest of the grapes with me. You’re in no fit state to eat them."
I watched him stroll down the ward towards the door. Suddenly he stopped, the thought hitting him and, turning, he shouted… "By the way, old boy, remember to do what the nurse tells you. You know it’s only for your own good!"