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“Oh, God!” he moaned as she took his penis into her mouth. Her tongue softly caressed his hard rod. She gave him head with a herky-jerky motion that caused him to gasp and groan.
The eighteen-year-old moaned again and said, “Ohhh! Mrs. B! That feels wonderful!”
The older woman pulled off him, chuckled, and said, “Don’t you think, considering that we’re naked and having sex, we should be on a first-name basis? My name is Agnes. My friends call me Nes.” Her hand lightly stroked his cock.
“My friends call me Tommy.”
“Hi, Tommy,” Agnes said as she looked him in the eyes and casually squeezed his dick. She saw his face turn red and contort. His eyes opened wide, and he cried out, “Oh. Oh! Sorry!”
His dick exploded and he shot his load all over her face. Rope after rope of hot, sticky cum landed on Agnes’ face. His face turned a darker red color, and he apologized profusely, speaking quickly.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. It just happened. I felt my balls boil and then… I didn’t do it on purpose. No one has sucked or stroked my dick before.”
He stared at her, hoping she’d accept his apology. Her face was a mess covered with his spunk. He fidgeted and squirmed, waiting for her reaction.
She tilted her head back, and let loose a loud, belly laugh. Tommy gave her a crooked, hopeful smile. She smiled, licked her lips, taking some of his sperm into her mouth, and said, “It’s okay. I’ve done this before. I know young men lack control. You’ll last longer next time.”
“There’ll be a next time?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. I’m guessing in about five-ten minutes.”
“Hey Tommy, why the long face?” Billie asked.
She was a slim, brown-eyed teen, and she was sitting on the steps leading to the front porch of her small house. The warm sun shined on her, making her long brown hair that was pulled back into a simple ponytail shine. A bright pink halter top hugged her modest chest.
Tommy was on the sidewalk. He went to his neighbor and former classmate and said, “I went to a dozen places this morning looking for a job for the summer and no one is hiring.”
“Times are tough,” Billie said. “After the factory shut down, half the shops on Main Street closed, and many people moved. Last night at dinner, my dad said he’s never seen it so bad. Shady Grove Nursing Home is hiring. They’re having a jobs fair this afternoon. I’m going. Why don’t you come with me?”
“What kind of jobs did they advertise?”
“The ad I saw said they needed nurse’s aids, food servers, dishwashers, and housekeepers.”
“I don’t know if I want to work with old people.”
“Maybe you could get a job cutting grass,” she offered.
“I’d like working outside, taking care of the grounds or painting would be okay. What time are you leaving?”
The teens went to Shady Grove Retirement Community. There were dozens of people there even though all of the jobs paid minimum wage. They listened to a presentation about the company and the different jobs and filled out applications.
The administrator interviewed Tommy and asked, “What job interests you?”
“I like working outside and with my hands. Do you need help with the grounds crew or maintenance?”
“Since the factory closed, we were able to hire experienced, licensed plumbers and electricians for our maintenance department, and we have no openings in the grounds crew. I could offer you a job washing dishes. Does that appeal to you?”
Tommy fidgeted. He couldn’t hide his look of disappointment.
“I understand dishwashing is not exciting,” the administrator said. He gave him an earnest look and said, “I’d like you to consider a job as an aid. I think you’re well suited for it. You’re a personable guy. You’d be interacting with our residents, talking to them, and helping them.”
From the look on Tommy’s face, the administrator knew he wasn’t sold on the job. The executive chuckled and said, “Are you worried that you’ll spend your day changing diapers and wiping asses?”
“We provide many levels of care to match the needs of our residents. Our independents live autonomous lives, and come and go as they please. The opposite end of the spectrum are those who are seriously ill or in the final stage of dementia. These people require constant supervision and are the ones you’re thinking about that wear diapers and need help showering.
“The first group needs no help and the second requires a lot. I’d never put a person as inexperienced as you with them.”
The executive cleared his throat, leaned forward, and said, “The position I have in mind for you is working with the people in between. They’ve moved here because they can no longer safely live on their own. They need some help. However, you won’t be changing diapers or helping them use the toilet. At most, you may have to escort them to the bathroom. Some are unsteady, and others have trouble sitting or standing.”
He leaned forward and said, “I’ll be frank with you. I could use you bursa escort on my team. You’re big and strong. Due to the medicines they take and their inability to exercise, many of our people are heavy. It is dangerous to have a one-hundred-twenty-pound woman assist a much heavier person to get out of bed, sit, or stand. We have lifts that we use for some, but many just require a little help. I’d feel better if you were assisting them. You could keep them safe if they lose their balance.”
The administrator sat back and said, “I saw you sitting and talking with a petite, young woman with a ponytail while you filled out your application.””
“Yes. I came here with my neighbor, Billie Richardson. She lives next door to me and we went to school together since the fifth grade. She hopes to be a nurse someday and might end up working in a place like this.”
“Working here would give her good experience. I’ve helped many employees get into good colleges by writing letters of recommendation.”
“She would appreciate that.”
“Many young women who are applying for the aid’s job have skills equal to or better than Billie. If you accept the position of nurse’s aid and give it a chance, try it for a week, I’ll hire your friend instead of one of the other candidates. Do we have a deal?”
Tommy thought, “This isn’t the kind of job I wanted, but I need the money. The whole way over here Billie chirped excitedly how this was the perfect place for her. That it would be a great experience and look good on her college application. It’s not like I have other opportunities. I can do any job for a week, especially knowing I’m doing Billie a favor. She’s always been nice to me.”
“Yes, sir. We have a deal,” Tommy said.
The man stood, smiled, and extended his hand. Tommy shook his hand, and the administrator said, “I think you’ll be great at the job and find that you’ll enjoy our residents.”
When they were outside, Billie jumped up and down excitedly and said, “This is great! We both got jobs!”
Her enthusiasm made Tommy smile.
“Let’s go get our uniforms,” she said. “I saw some cute ones at Walmart. They have them with cats and unicorns and cartoon characters.”
“Great,” he said with less passion. “I hope they have plain ones too.”
Two days later, Billie, Tommy, and the other new hires went through orientation. Billie wore pink pants and a top covered with pictures of tumbling kittens. Tommy wore scrubs too. His was a solid blue color that happened to match his eyes.
They got lockers and spent the day shadowing experienced employees, receiving training, and learning the job.
The next day, Billie rode with Tommy to Shady Grove. He wore a dark blue uniform. Billie’s was a light green color, and her top had images of various hard candies.
She said, “This is so cool. We can carpool to work, we’ll eat lunch together, and we work on the same ward.”
“Yes. Thanks for telling me about the job fair. This isn’t my dream job, but I need to earn money.”
They went to their assigned ward and waited for the nurse. Two women walked over. The middle-aged one said, “Hello, I’m the day nurse, Jean Addler. This is Beth Wilson, one of our wonderful aids.”
The black, twenty-some-year-old woman smiled when her name was mentioned. Tommy and Billie introduced themselves.
The day nurse said, “Our unit generally has around twenty residents. Currently, we have twenty-one. You will each be assigned seven residents, although you will work with everyone as the need arises. We know you’re new to this. If you have any questions or situations arise, come to Beth or me.
“Please keep this in mind at all times. This place is the residents’ home. We are visitors. If they want to wear sunglasses and a bathing suit, they can. If they want food, even though they just finished breakfast, give them a cookie or piece of fruit.”
The nurse looked at Tommy and Billie, and continued, “We have scheduled meals and events so we are organized. The schedules are optional for them. If they skip a meal, let me know. The only thing that is not optional is taking their prescribed medicines, but you don’t have to worry about that since nurses dispense all medicines.”
Ms. Addler smiled at them and asked, “Got it?” The teens nodded. The nurse said, “Billie, Beth will introduce you to your people and give you their background. Tommy, come with me, and we’ll say hello to your residents.”
The first three women Tommy met were pleasant and preparing to go to breakfast. They were the grandmotherly type you’d expect to meet here. The nurse explained their conditions and needs. They all had had cancer, heart and respiratory disease, and vision and hearing problems.
She introduced him to Mr. Davos and Mrs. Edwards. They were large people with heart issues and in the early stage of dementia.
When they left Mrs. Edwards’s room, Ms. Addler said, “Mr. Davos and Mrs. Edwards don’t have the physical issues that the first three people we met do. They need bursa escort bayan our help due to their cognitive decline. They have no short-term memory, so be prepared to hear the same story and be asked the same question over and over. Don’t let it frustrate you.
“When you interact with them, they may go off on a tangent and say ‘You’re not my aid’, ‘I just had lunch,’ or ‘I want to go home’ over and over again. When that happens, you can leave and check on them later or another technique is to distract them so you can do what you need to do. Hand them a book, photo album, or a stuffed animal, or ask them if they like dogs better than cats. Usually, questions or a distraction is enough to reboot their brain.
“Now, I’ll introduce you to Mrs. McCarthy. Her mood ranges from grumpy to mean. She’s lost her husband and only child. She has arthritis, and is in constant pain. She will complain and curse. Don’t take it personally. Be pleasant; do your job.”
They entered the room. Nurse Addler said brightly, “Good morning, Mrs. McCarthy!”
“What’s good about it?” the old lady groused. She, like everyone else Tommy had met, had gray hair, glasses, and hearing aids. She also was fat in the same shapeless, blob-like way: fat face, swollen belly, and a big butt.,
The nurse ignored the old woman’s gripe and said, “This is Tommy. A new aid.”
The old biddy eyed Tommy and said, “I’ve outlived my husband and child. I have no family in this world. When my time comes, and I hope it’s today, don’t try to save me!”
“Mrs. McCarthy, that’s a bit much to lay on this nice young man at your first meeting,” the nurse said casually.
The old crone raised a hand with crooked fingers, pointed it at him, and said, “I mean it! I’m ready to die.”
Tommy stood there and looked at her. The nurse tapped him on the arm and led him from the room. In the hall, she said, “I hope she didn’t upset you. She’s depressed and in pain. She does have a DNR, a ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ order in place. You cannot fix her. No one can. Check on her periodically, bring her meals, and do what you can to make her comfortable.”
The nurse sighed and added, “If I was in her situation, I too, would look at death as a blessing.”
They took a couple of steps, and the nurse said, “One thing you may have noticed about your patients is that they are all large. We thought you were a better match for them than Beth and Billie. Unfortunately, you did get stuck with many of the difficult ones. To make it up to you, we’ve assigned you Mrs. Brenner.
“She’s a lovely woman with a cheery disposition. She has Parkinson’s.”
Tommy stared blankly at the nurse. Ms. Addler took that to mean he didn’t know about the disease.
She said, “Parkinson is a long-term, degenerative disorder of the central nervous system that mainly affects the motor system. It can start with a slight tremor in one hand and progress to the point that the patient is unable to walk. Muscles become stiff, limiting the range of movement. People with this disease stoop, move slowly, have balance issues, and, eventually, need a wheelchair or are bedridden.”
She paused. Tommy nodded, indicating that he understood. The nurse continued, “Her brain is not affected. She has her memories, intelligence, and sense of humor. Our major concern is her balance. Parkinson’s patients are prone to falling and injuring themselves.”
“Got it,” Tommy said.
They entered the room, and introductions were made. “Hello, Tommy.” Mrs. Brenner said in a soft voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The slim, elegant, attractive woman turned toward him and smiled, showing him a mouthful of bright white crowns. She had on an ankle-length, lightweight, lounging gown. It was pink and contrasted nicely with her pale skin and silver hair. It had a V-neck and a floral lace bodice that showed her cleavage. The top was see-through, especially, where there was no lace. One nipple was visible.
The nurse took it in stride. Tommy stared. Mrs. Brenner appeared to be calm and comfortable in her racy frock.
“So you’re my new aid. I guess I’ll see you morning, noon, and night,” Mrs. Brenner said with a light laugh.
The nurse laughed and said, “I told you she had a sense of humor. She knows we work rotating shifts and will sometimes be here during the day, in the evening, and at night.
“Anything we can do for you?” Ms. Addler asked.
“Yes. Could the big, strong young man escort me to breakfast?” Mrs. Brenner asked.
“Yes. Would you like a robe? It can be cool in the dining room.”
“It is on the hook on the back of the bathroom door.”
Ms. Addler fetched it, draped it around her shoulders, and buttoned up the front, so her charge’s bosom was covered. She turned to the new aid and said, “Tommy, help her stand and give her your arm to hold on to. If she is unsteady, you may need to put your arm around her waist.”
Tommy nodded and used his training to safely assist Mrs. Brenner to stand. It wasn’t difficult. She escort bursa was a slim woman as light as a feather.
They took a few lethargic steps. She swayed. Tommy caught her.
“Thank you,” she said. “Perhaps your arm around my waist is required. I hope it won’t upset your girlfriend.”
He put his arm around her waist and said, “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“A handsome young man like you? I will help you get one.”
Tommy escorted her to the dining room. She had to pause and lurched during the journey. He safely got her to her destination, took her order, and brought out her food.
Beth, Billie, and Tommy brought most of the residents to the dining room. A few preferred to eat in their rooms. After breakfast, some residents stayed and chatted, others went to activities or returned to their rooms.
Tommy worked with all the overweight people, getting them in and out of chairs safely and taking them to their rooms and activities. Each encounter usually involved a conversation. The morning passed quickly.
At eleven o’clock, the nurse said, “Billie, Tommy, you did well this morning. Go to lunch, and when you get back it’ll be time for the residents to have their lunch.”
Tommy and Billie retrieved the lunches they’d brought from home from their lockers and sat outside at a table the staff used for breaks and meals. Tommy bit into his peanut butter sandwich. Billie pulled out her sandwich, chips, and a banana, and asked, “How’s it going?”
“Fine.” The peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth.
“I like my people. The ladies remind me of my grandmother. Mr. Harrison is a bit of a problem. He’s handsy. He patted me on the butt twice and touched my boob.”
“Did you tell him to knock it off?”
“Yes, but he doesn’t understand why I objected or chastised him. I talked to Ms. Addler. She said it’s part of his dementia. There is something wrong with his brain, and that he and other residents with dementia will do or say inappropriate things. She said they can’t help it and gave me a couple of strategies to prevent it and to deal with it because, unfortunately, it will happen.”
“That’s too bad. I got into an argument with Mr. Davos this morning. He has Alzheimer’s, and no amount of logic or reasoning swayed him that it wasn’t time for dinner. This was thirty minutes after he ate breakfast! He became insistent, agitated, and upset.
“I talked to Beth about it,” Tommy said, “and she said the key to interacting with dementia patients is to stay calm and redirect or distract them. She says you need to change their focus.”
“So no one has groped you yet?” Billie teased.
“No, but I had an uncomfortable encounter with Mrs. Brenner. When Nurse Addler introduced us, Mrs. Brenner had on a sleeping gown. The top was sheer. They acted like nothing was odd about the fact that I could see her boobs and a nipple through the gauzy material.”
“I think old folks aren’t as shy or inhibited as we are,” Billie said. “During my last visit at my grandparent’s, I knocked on their door one morning, and Nana said, ‘Come in’. I opened the door and Pops only had his boxers on and my grandmother was standing there in her bra and panties and said, “What do you want, Love?” I blushed, averted my eyes, and back out of the room. They just laughed.”
Tommy shook his head and said, “I guess you’re right.”
“Who’s your favorite?” Billie asked, and she took another bite of her sandwich.
“Mrs. Brenner. And not because I saw her boobs. She has Parkinson and her body is letting her down, but she isn’t letting it get her down. She’s witty, fun, and kind. Who’s your favorite?”
“I like all the ladies. Mrs. George is a hoot.”
“She’s the one who’s stacked, right?”
“Trust a guy to go there!” Billie teased. “It’s all about big boobs and big butts, isn’t it?
“Ah. Ah. Ah,” he stammered while his face turned red.
“I’m teasing you. She does have great breasts.” Billie said casually. “They’re firm and sit high on her chest.”
Tommy raised his eyes from the lunch table and looked at his friend. She had given an unusual description of a seventy-something-year-old woman. The other old woman had droopy breasts.
She said, “Are you wondering what her secret is? How come her breasts don’t sag down to her belly button like the other old women here?”
“Cancer. She’s had breast cancer,” Billie explained, ” and had a double mastectomy.” As she said the words her right hand banged into her left boob, mimicking a chopping motion.
“And you know all this because…”
“The ladies treat me like their granddaughter. I help them undress and dress. I select their jewelry, brush their hair, and put on their makeup. I saw Mrs. George’s boobs. As I said, they look great. They’re bigger, rounder, and perkier than mine. Hers are different in another aspect. She has no areolas. I asked her, ‘Mrs. G, how come you don’t have any nipples?'”
“You didn’t?” Tommy said, sounding shocked.
“I did,” and she answered and giggled. “She said, ‘I had cancer, and both breasts were removed. Then I had reconstruction surgery and got these nice fake boobs. The doctors said I could get tattoos that look like nipples, and I never got around to doing it.'”
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