MeatLocker

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

Nurse McAllister’s office was beside Mr. Kline’s room. Had she been watching from there; assessing her performance? Jenny could hear Nurse McAllister, busily fussing with Mr. Kline, and Jenny was dying to get a look at the woman’s office; just open the door and poke her head around the jamb. Check for a spy hole in the wall. Two brisk strides and she was at McAllister’s office door. The knob turned easily, quietly, and the door swung inward. Just a quick peek.

“Jenny...”

Dr. Janson looked up from where he was seated in Nurse McAllister’s guest chair. He shuffled a file folder in his lap but wasn’t quite fast enough. Jenny saw the bulge that interrupted the crisp crease in his trousers.

Jenny thought fast: “Dr. Janson, I didn’t expect to see you here. Nurse McAllister said she wanted to speak with me. This is her office isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes child. Come in... come in. Sit here and wait. I was just leaving.”

He stood and moved to one side to let her pass; keeping the file folder close by, in front.

“Thank you,” Jenny said, eyeing a privacy screen along the side wall. And then the smell filled her nostrils. There was the light scent of Nurse McAllister’s perfume but also the heady smell of a woman in heat; the unmistakable smell of her vaginal secretions and of bodily exertion. The room was rank with s*x.

Jenny hesitated, mid-step.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Dr. Janson said. “And when you see Dr. McAllister, tell her I’ve decided to extend you a three week probational period. She’ll set things up. Congratulations.”

Doctor McAllister? Jenny had thought the woman was a nurse. A head nurse, but a nurse all the same. The brass plate on her door said “Administration” and nothing more. A Doctor?

“Thank you,” Jenny said, feeling a little apprehensive.

“I’m sure things will work out just fine,” he said and, as he passed, he reached to pat her hip, just like uncle-dad. But his fingers lingered a bit, exploring the bone where it jutted beneath the soft woolen skirt. She held her ground. She was mature enough to know that sometimes a woman had to use her body a little; had to give some to get something back; get what she wanted. And she wanted this job. So Jenny didn’t pull away or slap his hand. She just coyly looked up, her expression open. Receptive.

She wondered if he might reach up to cup a breast, or run his fingers lower, following the seam down the front of her skirt to where her s*x protruded. She had quickly made up her mind that she would let him. If that’s what he wanted. She saw the light in his eyes change, as if in tune with her decision. But he dropped his hand from her skirt and moved toward the door. At first she thought he might lock it. Snap the sizable deadbolt across. It would guarantee their privacy. But no. He thought better of it. He must have known she was open, vulnerable. But he pulled on the office door and stepped out into the hall. Their eyes met and he smiled. An apologetic smile. He’s all used up, Jenny thought, on Dr. McAllister. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself by a lack of performance.

He pushed the door closed.

Jenny let out the breath she had been holding for the last five minutes and took a quick look around Dr. McAllister’s office.

Jenny could still hear muffled voices coming through the wall from the opposite room. She still had time and she wanted a look behind the privacy screen.

It wasn’t a peep-hole but a pane of glass set into the wall, about the size of one of her mother’s cookie sheets. The voices were surprisingly clear. She could hear Dr. McAllister asking Mr. Kline what he thought. Jenny realized that she was listening to them over an intercom system. His room was wired for sound.

The panel of glass had a palm tree painted on it from the inside, but there was lots of clear glass that afforded an unobstructed view of Mr. Kline, propped up on a pillow. The glass panel would look like a framed picture hanging on the wall in the opposite room. But on Jenny’s side, it was like a window. And there was a chair propped under it. She could imagine Dr. Janson and Dr. McAllister leaning across the upholstery, watching, as she had handled Mr. Kline’s genitals. But why? The smell of Dr. McAllister was stronger here, hanging like a musty curtain. What had they been up to?

“Well, what did you think of her?” It was Dr. McAllister’s voice coming crisply over the speaker. Jenny looked out through the glass. The lights were on now; a blaze of white light.

“She’s cute. A little naive, maybe.”

Jenny leaned closer to see. The chair in front of her seemed awkwardly placed and her knees came up hard against the seat. She leaned over it.

“By the look of this towel, I’d say she had your number!”

Jenny strained to see. Found herself lifting her knees. She climbed up onto the seat, draped her arms along the back of the chair with her nose almost touching the glass.

“Naw,” Jenny heard him say, “I was still charged up from this morning. That stuff takes awhile to wear off.”

Jenny gasped as Dr. McAllister took hold of the top sheet and whisked it away like a tablecloth. He lay naked, unperturbed, his arms behind his head, his ankles crossed, his limp p***s, drooling along his thigh. Dr. McAllister balled up the sheet and slipped it into the laundry hamper along with the soiled towel.

Everything suddenly became clear to Jenny. Here she was, bent over a chair, her back arched and her bum propped high in the air. She envisioned Dr. McAllister in just that same position, but her skirt would be up around her hips; her pantyhose down. Dr. Janson would be standing behind, as they watched her handle Mr. Kline’s p***s. And Dr. Janson would have his p***s buried between Dr. McAllister’s shapely buttocks.

“Why not slip up here? See if I got anything left?” Mr. Kline said.

“Because it’s not becoming of an administrator.”

“But you used to be so good.”

“That’s because I’m a lesbian.”

That made Jenny sit up. A lesbian? She pressed closer to the glass.

“You want good lovin’ sugar?” Dr. McAllister continued. “Get yourself an old lezbo. We do it without all the emotional bullshit.”

“You’re not old...”

“Old enough to know when to quit.”

“So does your husband know?”

“That I’m a lesbian? Sure. He’s a smart man.”

“No. I mean, how you paid for the house?”

“Same answer: He’s a smart man.”

“Humph. So you’re not getting up here, then?”

“Remind me to get someone in here to check your damned hearing. I have a hospital to run.”

“Hospital! This is a rest-home for old farts; ones with money and nothing left to do with it!”

“All the same. It takes work.”

“Just keep hiring the young ones, dear. The ones with a silky mane and large clear eyes. With coltish thighs and a pert little ass. The ones who jiggle when they laugh.”

“That’s all there is to it?”

“Come up on the bed with me. How about it?”

“I don’t think so.” Dr. McAllister picked up his spent p***s in her fingers and gave it a shake; she looked down the end as if judging the amount of water in his well. “You planning on ravaging me with this thing?” She dropped him.

“You, of anyone here, can bring me back. You were so damned good. And the money... you made so much money.”

“I was young then, and yes; it bought a four bedroom on the beach and a place in Florida. But not now.”

“Retirement doesn’t become you. Come on. For old times’ sake. I’ll buy you a new car. Something German.”

“I don’t think so. I like my Corvette. I buy parts at Napa.”

“Oh geez. Well later then, okay? Strip the clothes off that young one and bring her around to me, later tonight. We’ll make her do both of us.”

“That sounds terribly tempting, dear, but I don’t think so. She’s too young. And besides, I’m saving her for a special occasion. I’m going to turn that little girl’s ass into a gold mine. And as for you, it’s time I took you back to your room.”

He released a sigh of resignation and pulled himself up into a sitting position on the side of the bed. She passed him a robe and Jenny watched Dr. McAllister walk toward a wheelchair parked along the opposite wall. Dr. McAllister had a long gait that gently rocked her buttocks, back and forth, like a magician’s pocket watch. It was hypnotic. If Dr. Janson is getting a piece of that, Jenny thought, he must consider himself a very lucky man!

Jenny had seen more than she wanted and heard as much. Was Dr. McAllister some kind of den mother, supplying willing girls to the patients? Jenny couldn’t bring herself to believe that, despite what she had heard. She liked Dr. McAllister, wanted to respect her. Maybe even be like her. Especially when she hit forty. Dr. McAllister had a body that defied gravity, and a few other laws of physics, besides. What woman wouldn’t kill for that body in later years? Jenny slid a foot back, searching with a toe for the floor under the chair. She felt cold moisture under her knee. Dropping down onto her feet, she stooped. She dabbed at the wetness; rolled the slickness between her thumb and finger then held it to her nose. There was no doubt. It was a drop of semen.

“Jenny. What are you doing in here?”

“Dr. Janson wanted me to have a chat with you. He just left.”

Dr. McAllister eyed the privacy screen, saw it was still in place and let out a breath. “Good news, I hope.” She returned her attention to Jenny’s upturned face. She really was a pretty child.

“I think so. He has offered me three-weeks probation. Wants you to set things up.”

“Well that is good news,” Dr. McAllister said. “I need another nurse around here.” Jenny squirmed. She felt a pang of guilt and tried to control the flush of color. “And you’ve got that healthy, fresh look the patients will love. Perfect! Okay... go home, celebrate with your boyfriend, or boyfriends... a girl with your looks... have yourself a super weekend. Be back in this office, Monday morning at 8:30 and we’ll get you measured up for a uniform.

Jenny smiled. Despite her misgivings, she liked Dr. McAllister. Liked her a lot.

“Hey baby, where are you?”

“Still fifty miles from the city. Had to stop for gas. I’m at some service-center on the highway. I didn’t get lunch so I’m eating a muffin.”

“How did it go, this time?” he asked.

“Actually pretty good for once,” Jenny said. “I met with this doctor, he’s a hospital director actually, and we had a nice talk. He hardly looked at my resume or the transcript of my grades. He just saved everything in a folder and started talking about the hospital. They don’t even call it a hospital, but an institute: the Rosedale Institute. It’s small, only fifty beds, but quite exclusive. They’ve offered me probation. Three weeks, full pay, then they’ll make a final decision. I’ll be a full time nurse.”

“But you’re only a nurse’s aide.”

“Hey, I have a good chance at this job. You know how many resumes I’ve sent out? Over a hundred! And I only got three interviews to show for it. And those were with three Human Resources guys who were more interested in my t**s than my grades. I should have never sent out that damned photograph.”

“Your grades weren’t that good. Your t**s are.”

“Yeah. Well a little new paper solved that. And with some on-the-job-training, I’ll be as good as any of those real nurses. And if I get into a medical problem, there’ll be lots of others around to help out. It’ll be fine. And this job will pay twice the money.”

That made Jenny pause: There was the student loan, the credit card debt, the car loan and the rent on her apartment. She had already tapped out her parent’s savings. She had taken a credit card cash advance to pay last month’s rent. Even at twice the pay, it would be a struggle to catch up, but now, for the first time, she saw some daylight.

“Did he touch you?”

“No, silly,” she covered up. “Well, just a little bit...”

“A little bit?”

“Yeah. We were feeding the ducks. He patted my hand.”

“Ducks?”

“Yeah. You should see this place. It’s out in the country and the grounds are like a park. He walked me around. There is a pond, with ducks, and we sat on a bench and talked. He reached over and patted the back of my hand.”

Jenny didn’t tell him that she had opened the front of her power suit.

The new business suit had driven her credit card debt past the forty-thousand mark. It was light wool, jacket and skirt, and the cut was very conservative, reaching right down to her knees. But there was a delicious slit up the front, held together by a fastener about six inches up from the hemline. As long as she kept her feet on the floor, she was the model of a demure job recruit. But if she thought it to her advantage, she could slyly drive a thumbnail under the fastener and the skirt would fall open. Cross her legs, and all things were possible! And she had sat beside Dr. Janson with her legs crossed, her heart in her throat, and watched his eyes drift away from the ducks. She had placed a hand on a bare knee and he had reached across and covered it with his own. He had long fingers and the tips had gently graced the skin of her leg.

“Okay. Let’s not go there. So probation...” Peter said.

“Yeah. I’ll be on call twenty-four hours a day, and work two full shifts. They have a dorm and I’ll have to stay on the grounds. But I’ll drive home on my day off.”

“So I won’t be seeing you?”

“Not every day, silly. And if things work out, I’ll have to get rid of my apartment. I can’t commute eighty miles to work. I’ll have to find something in between; halfway between Rosedale and the City.”

God, he hated the thought of losing her apartment. He still lived with his folks and Jenny’s apartment had become his oasis. He loved going over in the evenings. They would get naked and sit in the candle light and drink wine. They snuggled together on the sofa and watched their favorite television programs. And then later, she would lay in the center of the room on her tummy, with legs spread, chin propped up on hands and elbows, and she would watch the Late Late TV Show. And he would move in from behind.

She would take no notice as he pried her open. She would be laughing at the jokes, oblivious to his c**k as he worked at her. And then he would c*m. Deeply. And she would wait for a commercial break. Then she would stand and move toward the bathroom. He would hear the flush and, when she came back, she would hand him a tissue. He found it terribly erotic, somehow. Wasn’t sure why. It was certainly better than jerking off in his parent’s bathroom. But when he graduated and got his own place, he would find a woman that liked to do it on top of the refrigerator, in the back of his car, in public, even.

“Pick up a bottle of wine,” Jenny suggested. “And a rotisserie chicken. When I get home, we’ll celebrate.”

“I think you need to check my prostate again,” he said.

“I did that already.”

“Well, it’s bothering me...”

“Geez, okay. Look, when I get back, I’ll take a sperm sample. How would that be.”

Anything, he thought. Anything but the damned television!