Cousin Waseem
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Her Game Was Passion Ch. 03 free porn video
-one-
Nothing much happened until that afternoon. Not a word from Lem Clemens, nor from anybody on the team. Nice bunch of people. Screw them all. If I got out of this I’d take Jackos’ job away from him. If I got out of this.
Dr. William Sloane came. He was a fat quiet little man who seemed nervous. He kept reading the charts at the foot of my bed and papers about me in a folder he held in both hands and finally he told me I’d been given a sleeping electroencephalogram, but they weren’t quite sure.
‘Quite sure about what?’
‘Well, uh, we’re not sure.’
‘What the hell,’ I said.
‘Nothing really specific.’
‘When do I get out of here?’
‘We’re going to try again. We’ll give you a waking electroencephalogram.’
So they wheeled me downstairs and the electroencephalogram was taken in a white, sterile room. The doctor who did it was a black and he was smiling all the time. It took about an hour with all those damn little needles he put into my scalp. He kept coming in and out asking how long had I played football, how many times had I been kicked in the head. Hell, if he only knew my head had a ringing sound in it half the time I was in high school and the rest of the time in college and this was a normal noise for a pro. How many times had I been knocked out? I had been knocked out once in high school, three times in college, three times in pro football. Miss Brooks came in and looked at me and made a face like she wished those needles were buried two feet into my brain. The doctor said Miss Brooks was a wonderful nurse and I was lucky to have her on my floor. Yes, I was sure lucky.
What did he know about a Miss Derry? He had never heard of her. After it was over, I was wheeled back upstairs on the elevator and soon I was back in bed. The fat doctor Sloane said he wanted to go over my brain wade tapes with another doctor and he would be talking to me again that afternoon. I waited and I waited and got tired of waiting and pressed the button on the bell cord and Miss Derry came in. I asked her for a glass of water.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘No water or food until after the doctor sees you.’
‘What’s the latest gossip about my brain?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘You mean you know something but you can’t say anything.’
‘Really, I don’t know.’
‘Where did you get that skin? Mother or father?’
She didn’t answer. She went out and I lay there. There was nothing but kiddy programs and soap operas on television. I was bored as hell.
Then the fat nervous little Doctor Sloane came back with another doctor. They were carrying my brain-wave tapes. They studied them standing beside the bed.
‘Nothing too specific again,’ said Dr. Sloane. ‘Hmm,’ said the thin tall younger doctor. His name was Dr. Henry Cohen. He kept looking over Dr. Sloane’s shoulder.
‘How do you feel?’ said Dr. Cohen.
‘Bored.’
‘Your head. Does it hurt?’
‘A little bit when I move around.’
‘You’ve had a mild concussion.’
‘How long was I out?’
‘Fifteen minutes.’
‘A first for me.’
‘See,’ said Dr. Sloane. He held up the brain-wave tapes.
Dr. Cohen took them and peered at them, squinting through black horn-rimmed glasses. ‘You see,’ he was pointing at something on the tapes. They muttered and murmured, studying the tapes. Then Dr. Cohen put one of those little lights in my eyes and studied my eyeballs.
‘Um,’ he said, and snapped off the light. ‘Difficult to say. Um. Possible, of course. Better try a carotid angiogram.’
‘What the hell are you looking for?’ I asked. ‘Possible subdural hematoma,’ said Dr. Sloane.
‘In plain English?’
‘Blood clot.’
‘Can’t you tell?’
‘Nothing really conclusive.’
‘Well, let’s get on with it.’
‘First thing in the morning.’
‘Why not this afternoon?’
‘What’s your hurry?’
‘I have to make a living.’
Both doctors shook their heads.
‘If there’s the slightest subdural hematoma you might as well face the fact, you won’t be playing any more football this year.’
I knew what they were getting at. I’d seen other players like this. They simply opened up your skull and stopped the bleeding and you could either play again the following year or not at all. I don’t remember anybody coming back to play after the skull was opened. Goddamn it, and just when I was going well. That bastard Lennox. Somebody ought to lay his head open with an axe. Lennox, you bastard, if I ever get the chance again I’m going to run right over your skull in practice.
‘Could I talk to the team doctor?’
‘Dr. Cohen is an excellent doctor.’
Dr. Cohen smiled and laced his thin fingers together.
‘You’re really gung-ho to play as soon as possible?’
‘That’s what I get paid for:’
‘I’ll see what we can do.’
They both left me lying in bed watching a soap opera.
Just before dinner, the team doctor came in. Dr. Harold Steinberg. He was handsome, black-haired. He had played for State back in the Thirties at Minnesota on two national championship football teams. He played a lot of tennis and his face was tanned. He came in wearing a big smile.
‘Why didn’t you duck your head and eat the ball?’ he asked. ‘Yes, I’ve seen your tapes. Nothing shows really. A few crinkles in your brain, but they’ve probably been there a long time. Sorry I haven’t been in. Very busy. How’s your head? Any headaches? Nausea? You got kicked around pretty good. I saw the game. Yes, I know Miss Derry. That’ll give you brain waves that will kick up your chart. Quite a piece. I should be twenty years younger. She’s too solemn, though.
‘What about sex?’ I asked.
‘What about it? I certainly could use some myself.’
‘I mean with this head.’
‘My God, are you screwing Miss Derry here?’
‘No, I hardly know her.’
‘How do you get laid in this hospital?’
‘Doc, I just want to know if I should or shouldn’t.’
‘More power to you, Scott. I’ve never been able to get laid in this hospital.’
‘Is it dangerous? I mean, blood pressure, that sort of thing?’
‘If you’ve got a minor sub -‘
‘- blood on the brain.’
‘Take it easy, Scott. Save yourself. Screwing will give you a headache.’
He was right. Mary Ann had left me with a slight headache and a little dizziness, but it had certainly been worth it.
‘I get horny lying here,’ I said.
‘I’ll send in Miss Derry.’
‘Thanks a lot.’
‘Take it easy. See you first thing in the morning. Get some sleep. I think everything is going to be okay. But we want to make sure.’
‘What’s the deal?’
‘Angiogram. Quite simple. We’ll put a little dye into your carotid artery. Right and left.’ He touched the back of my neck. ‘Then take some quick pictures. If it shows dark anywhere in the brain, you’re bleeding. We have to make sure.’
‘If it’s okay, how soon can I get out of here?’ ‘Quickly. Sleep well. Take it easy.’
He smiled and went out. He was wearing a three-hundred-dollar suit, just like Lem Clemens’.
-two-
That night there were a couple of good movies on television, but I knew I was going to have a tough time getting to sleep. I kept thinking about how long I might be out of action. If I were out of action another two weeks, Jacko would be ready, but that wasn’t too bad. It would mean we’d start about dead even for the first-string quarterback slot. I knew I had a stronger arm and more experience, but I had to be right on because they were building this kid. He needed at least three more years experience and even then he wouldn’t really be seasoned. You needed about seven years quarterbacking in the pros to really be sharp and old warrior. Unless you were Namath. But how many Namaths are there with a wrist snap like this? I knew they wouldn’t give me a sleeping pill, not with an
alleged head injury, but things turned out better than I thought they would. I fell asleep watching the ten o’clock news. The trouble was I woke an hour later. The television was still on, showing some western. I felt nervous and started worrying about football and how soon I would get back to the team. In the night the worry seemed worse than it should be, but I couldn’t turn my thoughts off, the worry got worse until I was sore at myself for being such a damn fool to worry this hard, but it was always like that waking in the middle of the night before a game, which is why I always take a sleeping pill the night before a big game. So do most of the other players except when we were using those big sloppy, fat guards in the old days. Those lard buckets never worried about any game. Hell, they didn’t have to move laterally in those days. Anyway, I could not sleep. I was lying there wide awake when the door opened softly and shut just as softly. It was dark in the room and I wondered if it was Miss Derry who had come to take my temperature. I couldn’t see her in the dark, but I could hear her and she sat down on the edge of the bed and touched my leg.
‘I couldn’t get to, sleep thinking about you,’ Mary Ann said.
‘How did you get in?’
‘Waited until the nurse left the hall station.’
I felt her hand go under the sheet and move up my leg.
‘God, you get me so hot,’ she said.
‘Don’t say anything,’ I said. ‘The hall has ears.’
I couldn’t move. I wondered what the hell I was getting into with this hot-boxed chick. What the hell was I going to do with her once I got out of the hospital? Very handy now. But later I might have her on my hands. No thanks.
‘You’re going to do it this time,’ she said.
‘No harm in trying.’
‘I’m going to really milk you.’
She drew back the sheets. I felt her hovering over me .in the darkness. Why couldn’t I come with her? It had never happened before. But I was empty of answers. She put her hand on my balls. No response. Maybe I was all washed up physically and emotionally. Dead, but not buried. She cupped my scrotum, but my dick was utterly limp. Her hand felt remote, far away, yet she held my balls.
I looked up in the darkness at the ceiling.
‘Why?’ she said and stroked my cock again. ‘Is it me?’
‘It’s me,’ I told her. ‘I don’t know why.’
‘Doesn’t it scare you?’
I didn’t answer. Norton, are you a eunuch? Did I have some internal injury they hadn’t told me about? My nuts weren’t sore, so I hadn’t been kicked there.
I wondered then for a fraction of a second why I was thinking Joan Lennox while Mary Ann had her hands on my balls. What was behind it? Why didn’t I really want to fuck Mary Beth? Of course, I couldn’t right now, but why couldn’t I seem to care less that she wanted to blow me? I couldn’t answer the problem, and then all of a sudden Mary Ann ducked her head and took my cock into her mouth. It was so soft it bent against her lips.
She moaned and closed her mouth and I felt my cock growing in her mouth, though a part of me seemed to resist that growth, as if it were against my will.
Aaaah, it was good now, really good. My cock was really coming to her. Her teeth raked beautifully along the flange of the head. My body shivered. Then, without losing my cock in her mouth, she moved and lay between my legs and began to make some real love.
She was really down on it. And it felt great suddenly. I could hardly bear it. She sucked with power I had never felt before. She really knew how to get the job done. I could see her head going up and down, and then I felt her tongue rasping along the flange of the swollen head. My flesh bucked and quivered with delight. I felt my backbone melting. She sucked and kissed and rasped that tender cock.
Suddenly and completely unexpectedly, I felt my body convulse and thrash. I spurted into her mouth. I came and came and came. I thought my cock was going to fall off. Her lips went on and on, smacking on it, milking every last drop. Back and forth her lips lashed my cock. It quivered! Vibrated! Tingle after tingle of electric shock shot through my melting spine.
I cried out with release. She moaned and went on taking it all in with her clamped lips. Her lips tickled off every little trickle of come. Charge after charge flashed through my cock. I wanted to clutch her hair but I couldn’t sit up without pain.
She lifted her head and the shaft fell down, limp, completely milked. She scurried into the bathroom and came out quickly. She sat down on the edge of the bed.
‘You were like cherry,’ she said.
‘I felt like it.’
‘We’ll wait and do it again.’
Footsteps came along the hall.
‘Get under the bed,’ I whispered.
The door opened and footsteps came quietly across the room, but the light did not go on. I pretended to sleep. I peeked from under one half-open eyelid. A nurse stood over me. I could see the white uniform. I wondered if it were Derry. It was too dark to see her face. I waited for the light to go on and the thermometer in my mouth. A hand shook my wrist. I faked a sleepy murmur. The hand shook my arm.
‘Whaa -‘ I said sleepily.
‘Are you awake?’ said Miss Derry.
‘Yes, yes, what is it?’
‘I was just checking. I’m supposed to wake you every two hours.’
‘Mission accomplished.’
‘Goodnight,’ she said and went out.
Mary Ann waited for the door to close, then came out from under the bed.
‘She trying to make out or something?’
‘Nothing like that.’
‘She better not.’
‘Oh? This isn’t exclusive property,’ I said.
We waited awhile and then Mary Ann tried to get me up again, but it was strictly no go. I felt a kind of nothingness again.
‘Oh, honey,’ she said. ‘What’s the trouble?’
‘You better go.’
She lifted her head from between my legs and rested the side of her face on my thigh.
‘Oh, I do love him and you,’ she said. ‘Do you love me at all?’
‘That was a terrific blowjob.’
‘Not that,’ she said.
‘Don’t get complicated.’
‘I’ve never been in love with anybody, Scott.’
‘You’re sweet,’ I told her. With some broads they thought you meant you loved them. Maybe ‘sweet’ would hold her. What the hell was I getting into with this chick?
‘It was good. Wasn’t it? You never had a better blowjob, did you?’
‘No.’
‘I’ll do anything for you, Scott.’
Oh, no, I thought, and finally got her to leave about fifteen minutes later. I started worrying again about Jacko and my job and my head and I had a hell of a time falling asleep. But I finally made it without knowing I had fallen asleep.
-three-
I woke up after the angiogram and I didn’t remember anything. They had knocked me out pretty good. They stick a couple of big needles in your neck right into the carotid arteries. I felt lousy from being out. My head didn’t hurt anymore, but I felt a little dizzy. I looked up at the television set on the wall of my bedroom. It was turned off. After a while a new nurse came in. I didn’t know her. I felt tired. I wouldn’t have cared then about Mary Derry. I didn’t care about anything. I felt sleepy.
The nurse said: ‘How do you feel?’
‘I’d like to wake up but I feel tired.’
‘Yes.’
‘How long was I out?’
‘Half an hour.’
‘What does the doctor think?’
‘He’ll see you.’ I couldn’t remember Dr. Steinberg’s name.
I closed my eyes. It wouldn’t have mattered then if Miss Derry had walked into the room naked. I was that pooped out.
The next morning Dr. Harold Steinberg came around to see me. I was sitting up, reading the morning paper. I felt a hell of a lot better, ready to go. Dr. Steinberg was smiling.
‘How do you feel this morning, bucko?’ he asked. ‘Yes, you look all right. No clot.’
‘When can I suit up?’
‘Couple days.’
‘Two d
ays?’
‘Three days.’
‘Everything okay?’ I asked.
‘Doctors never lie,’ he grinned.
‘Is Jacko back?’
‘Suited up today.’ He smiled.
‘Thanks a lot, doc.’
He grinned, patted my shoulder.
‘You played a damn good game.’
‘Nice line, wasn’t it?’
‘Theirs or ours?’ he giggled.’
‘Why the hell do you think I’m here?’
‘You played a good game,’ he said.
‘Good?’ I said. ‘With that line, it was pure crap!’
He patted my shoulder again, giggled and went out. I took a nap. When I woke up, Miss Derry was standing beside my bed, getting ready to stick a thermometer into my mouth. Before she stuck it in I said, ‘What’re you doing tomorrow night?’
She didn’t look at me. She was the most beautiful woman I’d seen in a long time. She just stood there, waggling the thermometer, waiting for me to stop talking. Her breasts jiggled against her white uniform. I stared at them, feeling my prick come to life. Down, boy. Down.
‘Did you hear me?’ I said.
She lifted her eyelids faintly, but her head did not move. She looked at me. She nodded and returned her gaze to the thermometer. Then she quickly jabbed the thermometer right into my open mouth, right under my tongue and picked up my wrist and looked at her watch, and started to take my pulse. I mumbled something but it wasn’t any use with the thermometer in my mouth. I shut up until she took it out.
‘Look,’ I said. ‘If you’re married, say so.’
She studied the thermometer and wrote her report on my chart. She started toward the door.
‘Get a good rest,’ she said. ‘The doctor said you can leave tomorrow.’ She shut the door quickly.
I closed my eyes, my body filling with desire as I thought of her. I thought of running my hands over her breasts, her nipples thickening and then hardening, pointing at me, aching for my teeth to bite into them. Ah, her silky soft pussy, her lovely smooth skin, but suddenly my prick wasn’t hard. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, but in my thoughts she had on all her clothes. I wanted to see her naked, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see her naked body. They have done something to your head, Norton, I told myself. But I wasn’t worried. I’d felt a little like this after some rough games after being kicked in the head. It would pass … yet I was worried. It had not been this much of a sexual block before. Not after a rough game. It was something else. Why in hell couldn’t I undress Miss Derry and have a few nice thoughts? Maybe the trouble was I was feeling like a kid again, and I didn’t know it. Maybe I was falling in love with Derry and didn’t know it. No, she was only another gorgeous dish and I wanted some of it. Then I remembered how goddamn tough the war and football had made me. Yes, until Lennox’s wife. I’d felt tender and loving toward her, and now it was happening to me for the second time in my life. I didn’t want to get mixed up with any woman, and I mustn’t screw or drink myself to death. And I didn’t want to fall in love.
I got out of the hospital about noon and went looking for Mary Derry. Clara Brooks was on the floor station desk.
‘When will Miss Derry be on duty?’ I asked.
‘Tomorrow evening.’
‘Do you know where I can reach her?’
‘We’re not in the habit of giving out phone numbers of our nurses to any of the patients.’
‘Well, well,’ I said. ‘I just want to send her flowers for her help while I was here.’
‘Nurses are not allowed to accept gratuities from any patient.’
‘I’d love to give you a gratuity, Miss Brooks.’
Miss Brooks walked out from behind the floor station desk and down the hall.
I called a taxi and drove over to my hotel and called Clemens. He wasn’t in. Well, I had a day to rest up before reporting to practice. I didn’t feel like resting. I wanted a work out. My car was out in the motel lot. The team was practicing kick off returns, blocking the third and fourth man on the defense. It was a good play, if you didn’t use it in every game. It was sunny and clear and cool. I wore a T-shirt, shorts and cleats.
I walked over to the coach. He wasn’t a bad guy, Jim Reeves. He’d played ten years with the Giants, and he was hoping to make the Viking staff one of these days, too. Yet I wondered why the Giants hadn’t picked him up as a scout. He’d been a damn good halfback. He looked glum.
‘Clemens wants to see you,’ he said, not even looking at me.
Down at the end of the field Jacko was passing to Lennox.
‘I’ve called him twice,’ I said.
‘He’s down in the dressing room. He wants to see you.’
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