In short, I came to the clinic, took the voucher to the therapist and went to the reception. The doctor I complained of obscure pain in the left side of the chest (like heart pounding) my age, 63 is quite suitable for such a diagnosis. I hoped that the doctor will prescribe any treatments, pills, injections, in General outpatient treatment. But it turned out that recently, we can say, that therapist was observed in outpatients ill with a heart. But this passenger is, apparently, not mowed, because, just left back where you don't sell a return ticket. The poor therapist now had to deal with numerous replies about this and to explain to his hospital superiors why he had not sent the patient for inpatient treatment.
In view of these circumstances, the question about the direction of my "sick" body to the "hospital" was finally resolved and without turning. To tell you the truth, this option was not very satisfied. Although a hospital ward is not a prison cell, but the regime of hospital treatment still involves some restriction of freedom of movement.
Of course, I could refuse treatment, but then the sick-list I can't see.
Had to submit to the will of this case and lie on a hospital bed.
In the therapeutic Department of the district hospital I met my old friend. More precisely, his sidekick (not in the sense that we missed each other over his Adam's Apple). With him we are together once plied the seas and oceans on a fishing boat.
He, though younger than me in age, looked much older than his years, and health, also could not boast. It turned out that he came here a few days ago, directly from the workplace. Barely pumped — he admitted in our conversation.
It should be noted that my friend has a very uncommon sense of humor. However, Your humble servant, do not take. On this basis, we can say, we are with him once and agreed.
In the old days, during the long sea transitions, in between running watches, we were given these improvisations that the crowd just fucking around with laughter.
The captain once told us — you were in the show Petrosyan to go somewhere more "dough" would be mowed than this fishing. What I could not help, said: "I Told my uncle — go to the gynecologist to learn, and good earnings, and his hands always warm."
In General, we settled with a companion in the house, which was one more patient (I almost said the barman). Started days in hospital according to local schedule. Morning and evening — dropper, measurement of pressure, temperature, rounds with the attending physician, pills, and other "pleasures" of hospital life.
In order to dispel the boredom of the hospital, we had better to do morning and evening walk around the hospital corridor. At the same time, as they say, "to revive old" — to cheer the local public.
We go one evening, not hastily continued along. My friend, turning to me, asked: "Tell me, fellow, how do You assess the state of my health?" I, profoundly wrinkled pumpkin, replied: "You know, dear colleague, this question is very complicated — will have to collect a consultation. But, I think, the Council is likely to decide to dismantle You to the authorities."
Because the dialogue sounded in the quiet corridor very clearly, he could not cause the involuntary listeners a sense of fun.
Meanwhile, we continued in the same spirit, and gradually, as they say, has found its audience.
After a visit to an ultrasound followed the standard question — "What did the ultrasound?" The answer o that the status of the fetus is satisfactory, out of our mouths was perceived solely through the prism of humor.
Soon we started to notice that at the beginning of our promenade in the "auditorium" had turned a full house. It was the time to start selling tickets — we were joking about it.
It's been a few days. The treatment my friend was over (he was admitted for treatment about a week before me). He was discharged. The third occupant of the chamber it left before the walls of the medical institution (thank God, my legs). I was left in the house alone.
Came boring is incredible. stories about sex will Perekalivatsja word to no one. In short, there was uniform drudgery.
In the evening once, lying as usual on the bed. Waiting for the nurse and put me on a drip. "The Christmas tree" — a device on which hang the drugs to drip, I was dragged into the ward and put in bed.
As usual, at this time, the ward nurse came in and started to prepare the needle and other stuff for dropper. It was a lady of about 35-38, but well preserved for his age.
I'm on duty joked that vein I have become like a junkie. Sister laughed and said that I have not seen drug addicts. With these words she bent over to fix something behind my head. During this movement, the floor, her robe slightly parted. In my head it sounded playful question — I wonder a what color are her panties? At the same moment I realized that this question makes no sense because under that thing flashed naked pussy.
The next thought I had no time to form. My hand, as if by itself, without my conscious participation, truth, already went through those tender lips and folds. The fingers, themselves, already climbing inside. Breath sister somehow became quickened-intermittent. She let out a barely audible moan. Then she leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Now, my dear". With these words, she with a cat's grace slipped from my arms and hurried to the door.
"Well, just started to live well, and the money ran out!" I thought, deciding that she was leaving. But I was wrong. Sister pulled out of the pocket of the robe the key to the door of the chamber and closed it.
Closing the door and turning around, she saw lying on the patient's back and standing at attention soldier. Apparently, this picture she liked, because she without delay like a wild cat, speeding from the door, spread her legs wide apart, jumped right on trembling with excitement member.
At the time of the jump, I was terrified — that's fucked or dick in half, or scrambled eggs. However, I'm afraid. The girl, probably, since the childhood was engaged in art gymnastics. She Manizales on the member so accurately and beautifully that he entered her easily and smoothly, like a basketball ball in the basket, after the exact throw of the champion basketball player.
She sat on me, hugging my sides with his strong legs. Her pussy tightly hugged her cat, who purred from pleasure if there was anything.
Started some wild jump at a furious pace. My fellow soldiers had sent hot jets that oozed from the soft womb. I involuntarily did the counter-movement, but the pace of the girlfriends I've had. Her pelvis, like part of some strange clockwork mechanism, often moving up and down. Her Breasts, little more than a second size, simultaneously jumped up and down in time with the movements. Swollen papillae, as two winter cherries adorned the crown of this divine creation.
Sister voluptuous moaning, uttered encouraging shouts. This Symphony is joined by the squishing sound is poured out love juices in a moment of deep dives. In this ecstasy, I grabbed her soft round ass, then caught her hands Bouncing breast. At some point I felt like the lower part of my insides as if numb, and then from it began to rise and heat waves to the tip of my steaming device.
Apparently sensing this approach, sister stood and firmly pressed his pubic hair to mine. At that moment I felt her hot liquid to push around my cock and at the same time dense and tight jet of sperm splashed out of me with a victorious salute, mingling inside this lovely and soft flesh.
Then for a time we lay in exhausted languor. Then SIS stood up, whispered softly "I gotta go, honey."
I belatedly remembered — what about a dropper?
Sister laughed and said, "So you're, next time, just choose — I or IV".