The Good Dream
By
Gary M. Smith
By
Gary M. Smith
I had no idea what was happening when I fell. I remember one minute being in the basket of the Cherry Picker replacing the Halogen lamp in the standard at the end of the exit ramp off the Bay Bridge in Oakland. The basket seemed to lurch, I must have banged my head a good one on the light pole or something, because I didn’t feel a thing when I hit the ground forty feet below.
When I came to, I was in Highland General with my leg broken in two places, my ribs cracked and my head bandaged up like a mummy. My bud John was sitting beside me, when I opened my peepers, snoring. Needless to say, I was confused as hell. I’d never been sick enough in my life to be hospitalized, but there I was. I tried talking, but my mouth felt like somebody had held me down and dumped about three overflowing ashtrays in it and then took a piss on the mess. I choked, and suddenly had to sneeze. Shit! That fucking hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, and I must have moaned loud enough to wake John out of his stupor.
“Hey Kel,” he sat up, and then leaned up over me. “You awake? “ He peered into my eyes, that had teared up with the pain the sneeze caused. I mumbled something, but couldn’t even make it out myself, so I didn’t expect him to get it. “Man I been worried about you. I been here everyday after work to sit with you. You been out three days and,” he looked at his watch. “sixteen hours and thirty. . .four minutes.” He grinned at me.
“Whaathfukhappned?” I managed to get it out, but the effort hurt my chest. He cupped a hand behind his ear and leaned closer. Apparently what I thought had been my normal speaking voice was just a whisper. “Ehsidwhaathfukhappned?”
John sat back down and put his hand over mine on the edge of the bed. “A 6.3 on the Richter scale, and you fell out of the fucking basket. Didn’t have your safety belt hooked up. Musta banged your head on something hard. They tell me you have a concussion, some cracked ribs, and your left leg is broken in two places. But you’ll be alright as far as your bones mending is concerned. Your head might be another matter.” He leaned back in the chair, and patted my hand.
Just the kind of news I needed. Shit. I remember planning to head to the bath the night I fell, because it had been more than a week and my balls were already dark blue. Now, I couldn’t tell if they were injured, or just so tight with cum they were turning black. Shit! I stayed horny most of the time, and usually took care of it with a trip to the baths around town three or four times a week. But I’d been sent to a training course in Sacramento the week before the quake put me in the hospital on the day I got back to work. Now add three days to that, and my nuts were long overdue for a draining.
I’m a big guy, butch and hairy. I work out in my basement apartment in the Mission pumping iron, so there’s no way anybody’s going to hassle me about being queer. John has worked side by side with me for over four years, and he doesn’t know, because I never bothered to tell him. None of his fucking business. I moaned, and closed my eyes. I must have drifted off, because when I woke up later, he was gone. A male nurse came into the room and straightened some things before offering me a sip of water through a bent straw. He was a good looking guy in his mid thirties, with a good build on him. He smelled of after shave, when he leaned over me to give me the straw. I couldn’t help it, my cock began to stretch out, and lift the bed covers. Like I said, I was fucking horny.
“Oh my,” the nurse said, and set the water mug down on the rolling tray, and patted my hand. “I’m the night nurse mister Kelly, so if you need anything, just buzz.” He showed me the gadget, and patted my hand again. “Nice to have you back with us again.” He turned, and slipped through the door. I laid there for a while, tasting sugar in my mouth after the water. I looked around as best as I could manage with my stiff neck, and saw they had me hooked up to a drip bag. I laid there with my thoughts for a while, but again drifted off to sleep and had the good dream.
In the dream, I was laying on a lounge chair on a beach somewhere warm, warmer than Frisco ever gets, and some good looking cocksucker was giving me one of the best I’d ever had. I must have blown his head off when I came, because when I woke up he was gone, and all that was left, was a wet feeling on my cock and around my crotch. I did feel some relief from the pressure, but just figured, I’d been horny enough to have a wet dream. In any case, it relaxed me, and I was soon drifting back to sleep.
Sometime later, I had the dream again. It was almost identical to the first time, except this time, I got the impression I knew the cocksucker. He looked a little like John, my work partner, but he kept changing, so I couldn’t be sure. Besides, John wouldn’t have ever sucked a cock, because his bitch of a wife would have whacked his dick off with a rusty knife. The two or three times I’d been invited to their house for dinner, Dolly had made it clear she didn’t like fags. Anyway, I blew another load for the cocksucker, and never woke up.
Toward morning, I had the dream again, but this time, I had to piss, and when the cocksucker went down on me in my dream, I just let go. I woke up pissing like a fountain all over the bed, with the night nurse guy holding my cock and trying to reach the bed pan on the rolling tray. He was soaked, the bedclothes were soaked, and since he was struggling, a good portion was squirting all over the floor. I couldn’t help myself, and started laughing. Which hurt like somebody was beating my chest with a hot poker. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” I tried to stifle the laughter, but it just kept bubbling up until I nearly passed out from the pain. Finally it subsided, and I started trying to apologize to the nurse. “Sorry guy. So sorry. I. . .” Started laughing again, and had to hug my ribs. When I could open my eyes again from the pain, he was standing there laughing with me.
“Well,” he said through his chuckling. “I guess I deserved that shower. You want me to finish what I started?”
“What, getting me to piss in the pan?” I shook my head. “Finished. Don’t have to piss anymore.” He laughed again.
“Well that’s not exactly what I was doing.” He grinned at my bandaged face.
“I was dreaming a good dream that some hot guy was sucking me off. Damn good blow job too.” He just chuckled again.
“Shall I?”
“Hey, if your half a good as my dream was, go for it.” He took my now limp cock, ad leaned over and sucked me in. I couldn’t help but try to raise my hips to meet his mouth. He gripped my nuts in his right hand, and started sucking me up hard. I’m no little guy in the dick department, about the size of a tall can of beer. He took it all in stride, and swallowed me whole down to my still piss wet pubes. His tongue was working me like he knew what he was doing. His skill was pronounced, and soon had me rocking my hips in much pain trying to feed him more of me. He pulled up to the flair of my head, and ran his soft hand up my stiffness, and then started making his hand mouth moves up and down my shaft. Since I now assumed my earlier two dreams had not been totally in the either of my mind, I knew I could hold off to let him do his thing on my cock for as long as he wanted. He was a fucking great cocksucker. We went at it for a good half hour, and when I finally decided to let him have his mouthful, he went into overdrive, sucking like a Hoover, breathing through his nose, humming and moaning around my shaft while I filled his mouth with cum.
He kept my cock in his mouth while it deflated, cleaning it of sperm, allowing it to finally slip out onto my damp belly. He leaned back, a big grin on his face. “That’s what I love to do most with a dick like yours. I could suck you for hours.” He sat down on the chair, and started to apologize for taking advantage of my incapacity.
“Don’t apologize. I loved it. If you knew how blue my nuts were, you’d get the picture. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Phillip.” He offered his hand, and we shook warmly.
“Well Phillip, I’d love to keep in touch with you when I get well. We could have some fucking good times.”
“We could. I live in the Mission. What about you?”
“Shit man, me too. Right behind Mosconi. I won’t be working for a while after I get out of here, so maybe we could get to know each other better.”
“Sounds good. But right now I’d better get my butt in gear and clean up this mess ‘cause I’m about to go off duty in a few minutes. Won’t do to let Ginger the day nurse find you like this.” He patted my limp cock, and started pulling on the bed clothes off. He was expert at what he was doing, and I was soon in a clean gown, with dry bedclothes. When he had me presentable, he leaned over and laid his cheek on mine, and whispered that he’d see me that night. He slipped out the door and left me laying there looking forward to the night shift.
A little after nine, John showed up. I gave him a big smile, and told him I was feeling a hundred percent better, and felt like I could be home in a day or two. While he was there, my doctor and his staff came in to look me over. He asked me a few questions, and wrote some on a clipboard he was carrying, and had a couple of his staff look under the bandages.
“Ribs are gonna hurt for a while, mister Kelly. Not much we can do about them except pain killers. Looks like you are coming out of the concussion with flying colors. I don’t see any problems there and barring an unforeseen setback, you should bail out of here in a couple of days. The leg will take six to eight weeks to heal, but it’s set well, and you shouldn’t have much of a limp after we take the cast off.” He offered his hand, and said it had been a nasty fall, but probably because I’d been knocked unconscious before I hit the ground, my injuries hadn’t been as bad as they could have been. We shook on it, and he and the staff faded out through the door.
“That’s great,” John said.
“Yeah, it is. Hey John, You don’t have to waste your day here. I’m doing fine, and I’ll be out like the doc says in a couple of days, and we’ll knock back a few.”
“Yeah, maybe I will go. Dolly’s been bitchin’ at me to fix some things around the house, and the boss has been after me to fill in on the job. A lot of the crews are working overtime cleaning up since the quake.” Just as he said the word quake, a pretty good aftershock rolled through the building, and my bed pan went sliding off the rolling tray. I just laughed, and had to grab my ribs it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch.
End
