Krankenschwester fickt den Riesen des Arztes

In the dimly lit hospital ward, Nurse Clarissa/a shifted the pillows behind Mr. Strokes/aw’s back, ensuring he was comfortable. Her iconic white nurses cap slanted jauntily atop her long, chestnut locks that tumble free. “How are you feeling today, mein Patient?” Clarissa/a inquired in a husky German accent, her rich, plum lips curled in a devious smirk.

Mr. Strokes/aw had been in and out of consciousness, his concussion rendering him useless. But Nurse Clarissa/a’s voice cut through the haze of pain and medication swirling in his mind. “Vunderbar,” Clarissa/a purred, noticing his eyes flutter open and focus on her.

Her scrub top was untied, buttons undone and hanging open, revealing the exquisite curve of her cleavage, swollen breasts barely constrained by lacy nude bra cups. She had forgone her skirt in a testament to efficiency, long shapely legs stretching out from her ultra-short lab coat. At the apex of her thighs, there was nothing but a scrap of lace soaked through with arousal.

“Now, let’s see about your swelling,” Clarissa/a cooed, the innuendo dripping from each syllable. She sauntered over to his bedside, the globes of her pert behind swaying with each hip roll. Nestling herself between his legs, Clarissa/a yanked back his hospital sheet, exposing his nude form to her hungry gaze. A gasp escaped her throat at the incredible sight. “Gott im Himmel! Vat an astonishing penis you vill be having!”

She trailed reverent fingers down the muscular twelve-inch shaft, a rosy bead of precum gathering at the tip. Clarissa/a swiped it away with her thumb, greedily bringing the digit to her mouth and suckling like a succulent lollipop. The taste of Mr. Strokes/aw’s pre-cream danced across her tongue and set her blood blazing.

Without preamble, the horny minx tugged her soaked panties to the side and straddled his hips. Guiding his massive manhood to her slick slit, Clarissa/a repeated the mantra, “Bitte Sei Sanft” before impaling herself on Strokes/aw’s pole, inch after glorious inch. Her razor-sharp feminine convictions clamped around his girth like a warm, velvet vice.

A throaty mewl escaped Clarissa/a’s lips as Strokes/aw filled her more perfectly than any man before. She rolled her hips, easing onto his dick until her plush arse rested comfortably against his pelvis. “Oh, Gott… so gut… so verdammt tief drinnen mich!”

Clarissa/a rose up on shaky legs, her cunt squeezing his cock, and started to ride him with a fervour that bordered on lunacy. Explicit moans ripped from her throat as she bounced on his rigid lengths, ivory breasts heaving and bouncing.
Arching herself into every slide and swivel of her hips, Clarissa/a’s breath spilled out of her in heated pants. She was the epitome of sexual bliss, her head tossed back in rapture, her fingernails scoring angry red trails down Strokes/aws stomach.

“Your flick is magnificent… so Schneller, so dick… I will not last long!” Clarissa/a proclaimed. With a cry of absolute lust, she collapsed her buxom body over his and thrust her tongue into Strokes/aw’s mouth. Passion consumed them as they grappled for purchase and rubbed their needy bodies against each other.

Blinded with lasciviousness, Strokes/aw gripped a sway of her bosom in each hand, kneading the plush orbs and tweaking the sensitive buds of her nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. Clarissa/a’s rhythm faltered, her orgasm rising like a tempest at the base of her spine.

“Come for me, mein lieber! Mmmm, let me feel you sack spletter all over my hole!” she urged, her bountiful ass clenching wildly against his muscular legs.

The world shattered, everything shattering at once as Nurse Clarissa/a orgasmed with a scream of overwhelms passion. Endorphins surged through her, stealing her breath, curling her toes. A fountain of Strokes/aw’s hot cum spurted into her spasming womb, and the feeling of his cock pulsing in her depths triggered yet another orgasm for the wanton nurse.

With halting breaths, the lovers slumped against each other. Clarissa/a sighed, nuzzling into the crook of Mr. Strokes/aw’s neck as their heart rates gradually slowed. She propped herself up on one elbow, surveying the chart that hung at the foot of his bed—a chart for a wound infection, a head injury, and a mild case of dementia. Clarissa/a doubted either of those were the real problem.

“It seems,” the nurse drawled with a mischievous grin, “as though my services are required more regularly… and more thoroughly.” She punctuated the statement with a playful swat to Mr. Strokes/aw’s flaccid pole, eliciting a throaty chuckle from them both