Student Nurse Lessons Ch. 3

By the time Sam awoke Saturday morning she could hear the family activity downstairs, her mother and father’s conversation slowly floating upstairs, and could smell the signature weekend scent; Andy’s pancakes. She lay in bed, absorbing the comforting sounds and scents when suddenly the memories of the evening before flooded her mind. The pizza, the wine, the movie, the, the…couch. And the kisses. Oh, the kisses. And Andy’s touches. She was glad she was alone as she felt her blush color her cheeks. What’s wrong with me, she wondered. What is this about? And with that her final memory; slipping into her bed, gently lifting the hem of the oversized t-shirt that she wore to bed, touching herself, feeling the tingling between her legs, stroking the tingling as if she was scratching an itch, the images of Andy flooding her vision as she stroked herself, the body-shaking, lifting-off-the-bed orgasm that hit her like a tsunami. Easily the best climax her virginal pussy had ever experienced.

She shook her head to clear her mind, breathed deeply of Andy’s cooking and, to distract herself, wondered, for the umpteenth time, how Andy got the cooking gene from Mom and she didn’t. In their parents’ absence dinner was never an issue; Andy automatically and willingly took on the task. Even ordering in was rare; Andy would rather cook and Sam was his happy best customer. She quickly showered, combed her damp hair, tied it up in her usual nursing student bun, threw on one of her favorite linen shirts, donned a pair of shorts in anticipation of the day’s early summer warmth, and headed downstairs to greet the day and her family.

“And here’s the sleepy head”, smiled her father, a charge frequently levelled against Sam as, yes, she was very often the last family member to get out of bed on weekends.

“It was a late night” she replied, glancing at Andy as she said it, noting the small smile that crept to his lips. “And it’s the weekend; pretty soon they’ll have us on shifts at the hospital and then I’ll really need all the sleep I can get.” Her father nodded in silent agreement as Sam took a plate, loaded some of Andy’s pancakes, filled a mug of coffee, and took her usual spot at the breakfast table. Again, as she inhaled Andy’s pancakes, drenched in maple syrup, Sam wondered at how Andy had somehow absorbed his cooking skills. He’d laughed and chided her, telling her that pancakes were the easiest thing on earth to cool, but hers never achieved the lightness, the fluffiness, the crustiness of his.

“We’re off pretty early to the wedding,” her dad’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “So you’re on your own for dinner; are you ok with that? And we don’t expect to be home until around midnight, so don’t wait up for us.”

Andy turned from the stove to Sam and asked “ribs ok? On the barbecue?”

“You have to ask? You know I love your ribs,” and suddenly the hidden meaning of her remark caused a slight blush as Andy turned to her with a slight smirk. Quickly, she asked “with slaw? Potato salad? That’d be perfect.”

“Done and did,” he said, “ribs, slaw, and potato salad it is.” To be honest, Andy was happy to have a task, something to distract him from thoughts of that evening’s lesson with Sam. After the night before, he wondered what more there was to learn, but he was sure Sam would show him.

“And there are a few chores, of course”; their father’s voice again. “We’ve left a list on the refrigerator.” At this Sam reached over and removed the list, quickly scanning it. Their parents, always fair, had left a “his and hers” list, although Sam and Andy were free to choose their tasks. Even so, it was almost certain that Andy would mow the lawn and tidy the garage while Sam dusted, vacuumed, and did a load of laundry.

The day progressed quickly, parents leaving for the wedding immediately after lunch, Sam and Andy engaged in their chores, and tasks being completed one by one. Around 3 in the afternoon Sam called out the back door to Andy “ready for a drink? Ice tea?”

“Sounds good, I’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later Sam heard the back door open as she mixed their ice tea, continued in her task and, turning to place the jug on the table was startled to bump against Andy. “Sorry,” he said, “I was just going to wash my hands.” But neither moved, frozen in the moment, each aware of the other’s closeness, their clothes touching, rubbing. Slowly, carefully, Andy wrapped his arms around Sam and pulled her to him, she holding the jug away so as not to spill. She pressed her face into his shirt, inhaling his scent, the bouquet of his work sweat, the smell of new mown lawn, and felt an electric shiver pass through her entire body, with a new and unprecedented tingling focussed between her legs.

Flustered, all she could think of was to say “you’re going to need a shower” and was relieved at Andy’s laugh. They sat at the table, relaxing with their drinks, and chatted about the progress each was making. Andy would be finished in ample time to make dinner, he assured her. But at the back of each of their minds, prowling through their darker thoughts like a leopard in the night, were thoughts of their coming evening, of the continuation of their “Julie lessons” as they’d come to describe them. But as she watched Andy drain his glass, watched his lithe, athletic body rise from the table, she thought “is this really about Julie?” and once more felt her blush rising.

Chores done, day waning, Andy showered and took control of the kitchen; cooking potatoes for the potato salad, thin-slicing red onion, cabbage and shredding carrots for the slaw, mixing a quick sauce to finish it, and marinating the ribs well in advance. Once all were in the refrigerator “to age” as he put it, he found a chilled bottle of chablis and poured two glasses, hearing the unmistakable sounds of the end of Sam’s shower. In a few minutes, her hair still damp, she descended the stairs in clean, comfortable shorts and t-shirt. Andy was surprised – and unready – for the sudden quickening of his heartbeat as he watched her descent. Was it just the cooking that had made the kitchen suddenly warmer?

As they sipped their wine Andy asked “are these our date clothes? Are we going super casual?”

“No, of course not. I’ll dress up and I hope you do too; we need to make it real.”

“Another movie?”

“I guess so. Maybe a walk after dinner?”

“Sounds good” and with that Andy rose from the table, took the food from the refrigerator, and headed to the barbecue.

As they sat at dinner, devouring the dinner Andy had prepared, picking up ribs with their fingers, tearing the meat off the bones and washing their fingers in the finger bowl Andy had provided, Sam smiled and said “I love ribs, Andy; eating them like this makes me feel like…primitive…a cave woman, you know?”

Andy laughed and said “and what does that make me, a caveman?”

“I think you’d make an excellent caveman, Andy” and, all thoughts banished and by pure instinct, she placed her fingers in her mouth, slowly drawing them out as her tongue licked the barbecue sauce from them.