I grew up in a small southern town where football and religion were the two most important things in anybody's life. My freshman year in high school my dad insisted I try out for football. I was 5'9' and weighed about 135lbs. I worked on the farm, so I had a pretty good build. But I was not particularly interested in sports. To please my dad, I showed up for spring practice and to my surprise I didn't get cut from the team the first week. The coach put me in the wide receiver position because I was reasonably fast and I had quick hands. The second week of practice I went out for a pass and just as I caught the ball I was hit head on by one of the biggest players on the team. As I hit the ground with him on top of me a shooting pain went up my right arm and then I passed out. I came to in an ambulance on the way the emergency room. They x-rayed my arm and I had two clean breaks. The doctor also said I had a slight concussion and because of that he wanted to keep me in the hospital over night for observation. My parents came by and the doctor said he was sure I would be ok and they should come back around noon the next day to take me home, if there were no complications. They left around 9:00 o'clock when visitors' hours were over and the nurse turned out all the lights in the room and dimmed the lights in the hallway. Even though I was drowsy from the pain medicine, I wasn't sleepy. So, I turned on the TV. I was still wearing the hospital gown they put on me when I went to the examination room, even though my parents had brought me my pajamas. It was warm in the room and the gown was comfortable, but it was short and open from the back. I was lying on top of the sheets with the head of the bed raised a little so I could see the TV better. The TV was giving out the only light in the room. I was about to drop off to sleep when I heard a male voice say, 'What happened to you?' I looked at the doorway and all I could make out was a male figure dressed in white. 'I got tackled by a Mac truck,' I said. The figure walked closer to my bed and from the TV I could see it was a black guy about 25. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt, which showed off big arms, a barrel chest and a small waist. He also had on tight fitting white pants. So, I guessed he was an orderly. 'Don't look like you gonna be playin' much football the rest of this season,' he said as he stepped closer to the bed. He had a handsome face, really white teeth, small ears pinned back to his head and a crew cut. 'Well, I wasn't much good anyway.' 'Who'd you play for?' he asked. 'Westside', I said. 'I seem them play last year and they weren't bad.' 'That was last year', I said. 'Westside gotta a lot of good lookin' girls, I bet you get a lot of pussy.' I didn't want him to know I was still a virgin and I said as convincingly as I could 'I get enough.' 'How many inches you got to give 'em?', he asked matter of factly. 'I haven't had any complaints', I said, which was the truth. He reached down in one quick motion, pulled back the hospital gown, lifted my limp dick with two fingers and looked at it. I didn't know what to do. He was so sure of himself, like a doctor examining a patient, and I felt I didn't have a right to object. Then he put his hand around my dick and tightened his fist. A slight shiver went up my spine and he looked at me and smiled. 'With your right arm busted, I though you might need help jerking off.' I didn't say anything, but just looked down as he began to pump my dick which was getting harder and harder. 'Yea, I'd say you got a good 6 1/2 inches on hard.' He reached into his pants pocket, pulled out a small bottle of Vaseline and poured a little into the palm of his hand. He made a fist and starting with the head of my dick he slowly went down my shaft. The sensation was incredible. He loosened his grip and slid his hand up my shaft over the head. Then he tightened his grip as he slowly slid his hand back down my shaft. I closed my eyes and began to moan each time he went over the head of my dick. I began to move with the rhythm of his stoke. As he pushed down, I tightened my hips and pushed up. I was fucking his fist. I opened my eyes and he was smiling and I smiled back. He put some more Vaseline in his palm and really squeezed my dick as he slid his hand over the head. I bit my bottom lip to keep from making a noise and he quicken his stoke. I felt like I was going to explode. I had never had anything feel so good in my life. He could tell I was about to come because my dick got really hard and he said 'Come on. Let it go.' He was making long, hard stokes and every muscle in my body tightened as I fucked his fist. I came and the first spurt hit me in the face. Then there was another one, and another one - at least four spasms before I stopped. My whole body went limp, and my dick began to go soft. He pumped a few more times gently until all the cum was out. I looked at his hand around my dick and it was covered with more cum than I had ever seen. It was on my stomach and chest. He let go of my dick, put his hand on my chest and smeared some of the cum on his hand over my nipples. That too made me shiver. I just lay there enjoying his touch. Finally he said, 'You had quite a load, like you was saving up or something.' All I could say was, 'Yea, I guess so.' He reached over and pulled several Kleenexes from a box and began to wipe the cum off his hand and then to clean off my chest. He wiped my dick gently and when he was through, he pulled my gown down the way it was. I was feeling strange, like I had done something wrong and felt guilty because I liked it. He noticed and said, 'This is your first time with anther guy I guess.' I nodded. 'Ain't no reason to feel embarrassed or nothin'. I was in the Navy for four years and guys do it all the time. I bet your friends do it to. They just don't let you know they do it.' 'What's your name?' I told him it was Michael and he said his name was John. 'I'm gonna be working the mornin' shift too and one of my duties is to give some of the patients a sponge bath. So, I'll see you then.' He smiled, winked and walked out the door. I lay there thinking about what had happened and began to get a hard on again. I tried to beat off with my left hand, but it didn't work. I dropped off to sleep thinking about what was going to happen the next morning.
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