A Dose Of Jealousy
The sterile smell of antiseptic and the distant drone of a ceiling fan filled the ward of the government hospital in Mumbai. Piyush lay on the thin, creaky mattress, his leg in a cast, feeling the oppressive heat of the afternoon. But the only thing making him sweat wasn't the weather; it was Ankita.
Ankita wasn't actually a nurse. She was his girlfriend, a woman of fierce beauty and a mischievous streak, who had managed to charm her way into a temporary volunteer position and a stolen set of scrubs just to be near him during his recovery. In her crisp, white nurse's uniform—the fabric clinging to her ample curves and the short skirt teasing the tops of her thighs—she looked like a fantasy brought to life in a place of misery.
Piyush watched from his bed as Ankita moved through the ward. He saw her leaning over an elderly man in the next bed, her breasts pressing against the railing as she checked his IV drip. He saw her smile, that sweet, professional smile, as she patted the hand of another patient, her fingers lingering just a second too long.
A hot surge of jealousy flared in Piyush’s gut. He knew she was his, but seeing other men gaze at her, seeing her "care" for them, made his cock throb painfully against his boxers. He wanted to mark her. He wanted to remind her exactly who she belonged to, right here in the middle of this crowded, risky environment.
When the ward finally quieted down during the shift change, Ankita slipped into his cubicle, pulling the heavy olive-green curtains shut with a sharp shink.
"Missing me already, Piyush?" she whispered, her voice a sultry purr. She leaned in, the scent of jasmine and hospital soap clinging to her.
Piyush didn't answer with words. He reached out, his hand gripping her waist and pulling her hard against his hip. "I saw how you were touching that old man, Ankita. And the guy in bed four. You're a very... attentive nurse."
Ankita giggled, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I'm just doing my job, baby. Do you want your medicine?"
"I want you," he growled, his hand sliding up under her white skirt, finding the silk of her panties already damp.
He groaned as he felt her heat. He pulled her closer, his mouth crashing onto hers in a hungry, desperate kiss. Ankita gasped, her arms wrapping around his neck, her body molding to his. The risk of being caught—the sound of footsteps in the hallway, the chatter of other nurses—only added fuel to the fire.
Piyush shifted, guiding her to straddle him. He reached down and yanked his boxers down, his hard cock springing free. Ankita let out a soft moan, her eyes widening as she looked down at him. She slowly slid her panties to the side, the wetness of her pussy glistening in the dim light of the ward.
"Right here?" she whispered, her breath hitching. "Piyush, someone will hear..."
"Let them," he muttered, though he kept his voice low. He gripped her hips and hoisted her up, guiding his head to her opening.
With one slow, deliberate thrust, he buried himself deep inside her. Ankita threw her head back, a muffled scream escaping her lips as she clamped her arms tight around him. The sensation was overwhelming—the friction of their skin, the scent of the hospital, and the sheer thrill of the taboo.
Piyush began to fuck her with a rhythmic, possessive intensity. Each thrust was a claim, a way of erasing the images of other men looking at her. He could feel her walls tightening around him, milking him with every slide.
"You're mine," he hissed into her ear, his teeth grazing her lobe. "Only mine."
Ankita whimpered, her hips grinding against him in a frantic search for more. "Yes... oh god, yes... fuck me, Piyush... fuck your jealous nurse."
The bed creaked rhythmically, a dangerous sound in the quiet ward. Every time a footstep echoed outside the curtain, they both froze, their breath hitching, their hearts racing. The fear of discovery only made the orgasm build faster.
Piyush reached up, grabbing her breasts through the thin fabric of the uniform, squeezing them hard. He accelerated his pace, his cock slamming into her pussy with wet, slapping sounds. Ankita was shaking now, her internal muscles pulsing around him in waves of pleasure.
"I'm... I'm coming!" she gasped, her voice a strained whisper.
Piyush gave one final, deep shove, pinning her against him as she peaked, her body shuddering violently. A moment later, he followed her, a loud groan muffled against her shoulder as he filled her deep inside, his cum pulsing into her.
They stayed locked together for several minutes, breathing heavily, the silence of the ward returning around them. Ankita slowly slid off him, adjusting her skirt and smoothing out her scrubs with a smug, satisfied smile.
"Feel better now, patient?" she teased, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
Piyush smirked, watching her walk away toward the curtain. "I might need another dose tomorrow."
