A drunk nurse and a patient in an elevator

It was one of those night shifts that starts out like any other. A hospital after midnight is a world unto itself. Silence punctuated by the beeping of machines, dim light in the hallways, and a feeling as if the rest of the city had died out. I, Sveta, had been working here as a nurse for five years. I knew every corner, every creaking linoleum. That evening, there was a corporate party celebrating some anniversary of the head physician. A modest drinking session in the staff room on the second floor. Champagne, cognac, cheap snacks. I sipped a little, then another, the tension of the shift slowly dissolving in a light, pleasant alcoholic haze. I wasn't completely drunk, but rather warmed up. My body felt light, my cheeks were flushed, and playful, warm shivers ran through me. I threw my white robe over the short black dress I'd worn underneath—I planned to pop into a club after my shift. The robe came unbuttoned, revealing my cleavage and the slightly trembling, firm breasts in a lace bra. My head buzzed pleasantly. I needed to go down to the archives at minus one to hand in some paperwork. I staggered out of the elevator on the first floor just as the doors of another elevator, a passenger one, opened. He came out—Alexander. I recognized him instantly. A young man who had been brought to us with appendicitis three days ago. The operation went smoothly, and he was being discharged today. I changed his dressings a couple of times. He was shy, awkwardly averting his eyes when I leaned over his incision. Sweet. And now, in his jeans and dark jacket, with a small backpack slung over his shoulder, he no longer looked like a patient, but simply a handsome man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a scruffy stubble. “Oh, Svetlana… hello,” he recognized me and smiled. "Sasha, hi! Are you checking out? Congratulations," my voice sounded hoarse and much louder than I'd intended. I stepped into the elevator he'd just left, pressing the "-1" button. "Yes, finally. Freedom," he stood in the doorway, letting me in. "Where are you headed? It's so late," I asked chattily, leaning against the wall. The elevator started to descend. "I'm waiting for a taxi at the exit. It's cold outside, so I decided to stay here in the lobby." The elevator suddenly jerked and stopped. The lights flickered. We both flinched. "Hey, what the..." Sasha muttered, pressing the button for the first floor. Nothing. The elevator was stopped. "Holy shit," I breathed out and giggled. The alcohol made the situation seem funny, not scary. "Typical. They're always doing renovations here." I turned to face him. In the cramped space, I felt his warmth. And I noticed. Involuntarily, my gaze fell below his waist. A substantial bulge was clearly visible in the crotch of his jeans. Indecently distinct. Blood rushed to my head, mixing with the alcohol into a heady, uninhibited cocktail. I looked up. He was looking at me, and I saw in his gaze not just embarrassment, but a smoldering, wild interest. He noticed my gaze, too. "Sorry... it's..." He tried to look away, but couldn't. His gaze was glued to my unbuttoned chest. "What's 'this'?" a hoarse, brazen note crept into my voice. I took a small step forward, closing the already tiny distance between us. "Appendicitis didn't stop you from enjoying something, I see." He swallowed. His breathing quickened slightly. The elevator smelled of his clothes, my perfume, and that intense, sexual charge. “Svetlana, you… you’re drunk,” he said, but there was no condemnation in his voice. "Just a little," I whispered, now close to him. My chest almost touched his jacket. I placed my palm on his stomach, feeling the hard muscles beneath the fabric. "And you? Sober? Or did you check out and celebrate too?" "Sober," his voice dropped. He didn't pull away. On the contrary, his hands dropped and rested on my hips, over my robe. "Boring," I breathed out, and without breaking his gaze, I lowered my hand. My palm landed right on that very bulge. It was hot, hard as a rock, and huge even through my jeans. Sasha inhaled sharply. "Wow... Such a big boy hiding... Is this because of me?" He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me roughly toward him, crushing my lips with his mouth. The kiss was fierce, hungry. His tongue darted into me, smelling of coffee and some masculine spice. I moaned into his mouth, fiddling with the button of his jeans. My fingers trembled, but they managed. I unbuttoned the button and slowly pulled down the zipper. The heavy, thick fabric slid aside, and he, his cock, literally leaped out, hitting my lower abdomen with a firm thud. I gasped, pulling away from the kiss. He was magnificent. Long, thick, with a powerful head already damp with a drop of precum. Veins throbbed on him. I grabbed his base, feeling the heat and pulsation. “Oh, God, Sveta…” he croaked, watching as I sank to my knees in front of him, right on the cold floor of the elevator. "Be quiet," I ordered, and without taking my eyes off him, I stuck out my tongue to slowly, relishingly lick that salty drop from his head. He shuddered. The taste was sharp, masculine, intoxicating. I opened my mouth wider and, placing my hands on his buttocks, sucked his head into me. He groaned, and the sound, low and animalistic, ignited a fire within me. I worked my mouth and tongue, taking my time, savoring every second. I sucked on that sensitive frenulum under the head, running the tip of my tongue along its edge, then swallowed deeper again. Saliva flowed from the corners of my mouth, mixing with his juices. I looked up at him. He stood with his head thrown back against the elevator wall, his eyes closed, his mouth half-open. His hands gripped my hair, not pushing, just holding, his fingers trembling. “Yes... just like that... oh, fuck, what a mouth you have...” he muttered through his moans. I picked up the pace, working my head faster, deeper, trying to push him as far down my throat as possible. He responded with rhythmic, involuntary thrusts of his hips. The sound of my mouth, squelching and wet, filled the cabin. Suddenly, the elevator jerked and hummed. We both froze. The doors slid open with a screech. We were bukvoeb.run between floors—in the elevator shaft, a concrete wall was visible beyond the doors, but the space in front of the elevator was empty, a dark technical floor. No one was there. “The doors… opened…” Sasha exhaled, but his hands didn’t let go of my hair. "So?" I laughed hoarsely, not letting go of his cock. "Are you afraid someone will see? Let them see." And I took up the matter again, this time with a furious, animalistic passion. One of my hands continued to massage his balls, heavy and tight, while the other reached under his dress. I struggled to lift it, yanked my panties aside with a moan of impatience, and inserted two fingers inside myself. I was soaking wet, my pussy simply flowing. I moaned around his cock, the vibration from my throat causing him to curse. “I’m cumming… Sveta, I’m coming now…” he warned, his body tensing like a string. I didn't pull away. Instead, I pressed myself against him, swallowing him all the way to the base, feeling his head press into my throat. His hands grabbed my head, holding it in place, and he began pounding my mouth with short, sharp, uncontrollable thrusts. I felt his balls twitching under my chin. "Aaaah, fuck!" he growled, and the first hot stream hit me straight in the throat. Thick, salty, abundant. I swallowed, choking, but didn't let go until he spilled every last drop inside me, shuddering in convulsions. At the same time, my fingers, working in my pussy, squeezed my own orgasm out of me. It rolled in a wave, making my stomach spasm and make me arch and cry out dully, choking on his cum. We froze. I was still on my knees, with his soft but still enormous cock in my mouth. He was leaning against the wall, breathing heavily. Gradually, the world around us began to dawn on us. The hum of cars from the street. The smell of dust and oil from the elevator shaft. Cold air from the technical floor. I slowly released his cock. It slid from my mouth with a wet sound. Cum trickled down my chin, dripping onto my robe. I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, rising on trembling legs. Sasha buttoned his jeans silently, his hands shaking. He looked stunned, exhausted, and incredibly pleased. I straightened my dress and threw my robe back on, trying to tidy up my disheveled hair. The elevator suddenly jerked and slowly began to descend. We looked at each other in silence. The doors opened at minus one, right in front of the archives. I walked out without looking back. I heard the elevator doors close behind me, taking me upstairs, to the exit, to the taxi, to normal life. I went into the archive room and turned on the light. In the dim light, I saw my reflection in the glass closet door. Disheveled, with eyeliner, a sperm stain on the white collar of my robe. I smiled at the reflection. A drunken, dirty, amazing night. And tomorrow – a new shift. And who knows what else could happen in this elevator.