Enfermera da placer/Cap1

CHAPTER 1










Oh, damn it, Isa, you're such an unexpressive daughter sometimes! Hahaha!



Your friend Marga was laughing at the frozen, indifferent, and superior expression of Isa in response to the brutal and libidinous pickup line that a messenger on a motorcycle had launched while they were waiting to cross the traffic light, just as it turned green for vehicles. The boy with sunglasses under his helmet had given Isa a glance from the motorcycle before launching the loud pickup line at the two women. 'When I die, I want to go to glory, which is not very clear to me, whether glory exists or not, this is between your breasts or between the buttocks of your ass, Morenaaa!' As he rode away with the last words. Marga opened her mouth in amazement and Isa looked proudly into the distance as if she were listening to rain. It was clear that the pickup line was meant for Isabel, since Margarita, her best friend, had red hair, was pale, and had little breasts. Isa remembered the scene, giving thanks that her children weren't with her to hear that brutal pickup line while she took off her high heels in her room and sat on the bed to massage her precious and cared-for painted-red toenails without stopping smiling mischievously and lustfully. At thirty-five years old, she still followed the advice given by her neighbor, Mrs. Matilde, when she was only sixteen, which made her one of the most spectacular spinster women you could meet. Isa had always been chubby and had a big complex, especially at puberty. At fourteen, her breasts were already enormous, but so was her butt and stomach, although she had a beautiful face like an angel, completely round, brown eyes and shiny, abundant and rounded cheeks, eyebrows that she depilated leaving a very fine line, a marvelous mouth of piñón on delicious chin, with a soft and shiny dark brown hair that fell to the middle of her back.

But she was the fat girl at all parties and discos, everyone would mock her and boys would ignore or humiliate her.

While she consumed herself between tears and frustration, depressed in her house.

Her mother managed to lift her spirits and took her to a gym, arranged a diet with an endocrinologist and started losing weight. As soon as she was slightly thin, the interest of boys began to awaken, especially the ugliest ones who repelled her, although she would roll around with one or two, letting them touch her breasts over her clothes.

Finally, she lost a lot of weight, with her 5 feet 8 inches tall, she had sculpted her legs, tight and round, with juicy and muscular thighs, and her butt, her butt was big, round like a perfect sphere, without a single millimeter of cellulite, firm and smooth like the skin of a drum. And although she had feared that her breasts would shrink as she lost weight, they had remained, and even grown larger. They were enormous and round, almost the same size as each other, covered in veins that ended at her huge and precious areola surrounding her pointed nipples, opening on her chest, turgid and erect, defying gravity, so when she stretched her arms over her head, her enormous melons fell to the sides leaving a wide channel. And she was beautiful with her round face like a doll.

But although her hips were wide and firm, her waist was not narrow, it was normal, a woman's waist. But after so many years of complexes and mockery, she didn't have any kind of self-security, and girls still mocked her for that waist that wasn't as thin as a wasp and that distended belly. She would always be the fat girl! And no boy worth anything would ever pay attention to her.

She was crying like this in the staircase, lamenting herself, when she found it, Doña Matilde. Doña Matilde was a divorced woman of forty-five years old. Dark-skinned and jamón-like as Isa now was, who scandalized the entire neighborhood with her conquests and almost nightly shrieks, taking a lucky man to bed and screwing him like there was no tomorrow.

Matilde sat next to Isa, wiped away her tears, and consoling her by wrapping an arm around her shoulder, asking her to tell her what was wrong. Isa explained the frustration, insecurity, and teasing from other girls, who always called her fat.

Matilde, wiping away her tears with a paper handkerchief, made her accompany her home. For the next few days, Matilde lectured Isabel. Matilde taught her all the tricks she knew. They were almost the same height, so she lent her lingerie, super-tight and cut-out dresses, taught her to walk on high heels in the sexiest way possible, practicing daily to agitate her curves in a way that would make men's poles melt from the heat they generated.

She filled Isabel with self-confidence and explained the great secret. Men are programmed to go crazy for women who are dark-skinned and curvy like them, with firm and abundant curves, but were manipulated by society into preferring thin women. All she had to do was show herself as a woman, sexy and delicate, with class, very feminine in all her movements, but still drawing curves in the air. Showing impasibility and above all, inaccessibility, making it seem like nothing affected her, cold like ice to flattery and praise, showing off her body's bait and then withdrawing it, being reticent. They would go crazy for her body and she could have any boy she wanted.

They practiced a lot, even taking walks on the street, provoking men to shout at them, saying They went crazy in front of the curves of the two women.

Completely full of self-confidence, she presented herself at a disco on a weekend with her wide hips and natural waistline, curvy over high heels, cut into a spectacular dress that drew an enormous and firm butt, with two soft and bouncy buttocks (from then on and for the rest of her life she would only wear Brazilian thongs and panties) and accentuating her two giant breasts, giving them a perfect spherical shape, which although it corresponded to a G-cup bra, had corseted them in an F-size Wonderbra, making them even more prominent.

Everyone went crazy with her way of walking and balancing her marvelous curves, her firm and tight thighs, her moving buttocks up and down, her bouncing breasts, and that precious angelic face.

Taking off her earrings with indifference and disdain, ignoring all the requests and flattery. Until she found the boy, whom she considered more handsome than anyone in her course, and while his girlfriend was distracted, she started dancing with him. With that icy gaze that pierced through him and that body sculpted for sex, rubbing against him, making him go crazy. Isa whispered to him during the dance, proposing they meet outside in five minutes, and left him burning.

The boy managed to get away from his girlfriend and found himself with Isa. In this way, he lost his virginity to her in a dark place in a park. And although she was inexperienced, Matilde's lessons did not fall on deaf ears, and all the coldness and indifference shown earlier turned into wild lust, as she was the one who screwed him. She left that night for her girlfriend, to start a relationship with Isa. Which broke up after a month, leaving the boy in tears, to go out with a two-year-older boy, one of the most famous and popular ones in the neighborhood, whom he called I also leave Isa.

Isa earned a reputation as a fatal woman, one of the most desired in the neighborhood, her long and intense sessions became legendary among those who had enjoyed her favors and her field of action extended when she studied nursing at the university and later at the hospital. She always had the man she wanted and drove all men crazy with whom she crossed paths, with her body full of soft and voluptuous curves that lifted cocks in her wake, as a tribute to her.

She must have gotten married to one of the doctors who had sex with her, more than two asked her to. But I ended up marrying Pepe. A successful commercial, dark-skinned and cunning, five years older than her, who seduced her with his earnings from a couple of years ago and initially wasn't bad in bed. Besides, she didn't want to take the work home, be surrounded by scrubs all day.

So she got married and moved to his duplex with him, good car, six months later she had her first child, and he asked her to stop working at the hospital and she did, helping him so that a year and a half later she would have the second. And from here things started going wrong.

As soon as their first child was born, he started neglecting himself, getting fat, not washing often, not caring about sexual excitement. Isa started refusing to blow him, made him wait for a long time, until after the second child, then also stopped making him wait, and besides, between the two children she discovered that the charming and seductive subject had turned into an idiot, repulsive, and a blabbermouth.

She had a strong argument with him because she refused to breastfeed the kids, not wanting to lose her firmness. He started getting really annoying and she started sleeping in another bed. At that time, he even disgusted her until he touched her.

In the end, not long after the second child, Pepe lost interest in Isa, it took her a long time to lose weight, until she finally reduced. The size of her waist and stomach was not bulging but distended, as well as her thighs and knees being turned and her perfect round big ass without a millimeter of cellulite. Then they fired Pepe at the company, he had gone bald and was slightly chubby, he had lost his ability to seduce and sell, but he still was a blowhard, so the son of one of the owners, who was a young guy, couldn't take his answers and got rid of him. He kept his job because his client portfolio was loyal and good. But his income started to drop. They would have to adjust their belt with two kids aged eight and ten years old. Facing outside Pepe maintained his arrogant and blowhard appearance, but at home he started to collapse, drinking and crying nonstop. That was a show that Isabel had to stop for her children's sake, so she put Pepe back in bed. They slept together. Pepe drooled on her tits and positioned himself on top of her to mount her or asked her to ride him, Isa would do it or let herself be done with, totally expressionless, feeling almost nothing. Pepe was no longer the man she had known before getting married, he barely lasted a couple of minutes before coming, without enduring anything. And she took systematic measures not to get pregnant again. At thirty-five years old, Isa was at her best physical moment in life, her body was firmer and more turgid than ever, with that ass like a beach ball with perfect curvature, no trace of cellulite, her breasts were firm and erect, more so than when she was eighteen, her skin was smooth and silky, creasing from head to toe, morning and night, it was being wasted, thought Isabel, while her vibrator rubbed her clitoris and played with her Chinese balls, taking them out and putting them back in her vagina. That time after leaving the kids at school was her time to have fun with her toys. best moment of the day, which abstracted it from everything, drowning between incredible orgasms. This way I didn't have to think about the bills that were suffocating me every day more and about the fights I was having with Pepe, to convince him to go back to work even if it was just half a day. The kids already had eight and ten years old, so if I left them to eat at school I could work quietly for six hours a day and contribute to the house.

The power outage due to non-payment on the weekend with the children crying in front of the scenes of discussion between their parents was the drop that filled the glass. Isa took Pepe out of her room again. At first, Pepe acted like the poor imbecile he had become, with haughtiness and indifference, but when bedtime came, he started crying like a child on his knees in front of Isa's impassive look of disdain. Isa consented to put him back in his bed, like a tyrant who gives away the leftovers from her table, in exchange for Pepe letting her look for work.

This is how, a month later, after an interview and through the mediation of an ex-hospital colleague who had passed on the information, that they were looking for staff at that private rehabilitation clinic, I started working.

The personnel manager and her plant supervisor were very friendly and at the same time distant. This was a private clinic with a lot of money, outside of mutual health insurance. The people who came here usually had a lot of money. Most of them were there to treat themselves in periods of rehabilitation, physiotherapy, exercises, rehabilitating physical issues, especially middle-aged and elderly people with trauma rehabilitations, the personnel manager explained.

The work would develop in a routine and quiet way, very far from the hustle and bustle of a conventional hospital. In my case, it was a reduced shift, with lower pay, but well paid for what is usual. Morning or afternoon shifts of six hours, five days a week plus a weekend alternative, a 12-hour shift during the night, responsible for the plant. The truth is that the work was ideal due to its hours. Isa quickly got along with her colleagues, all 'veterans', in fact, the youngest one was her, so without young girls around, competing on who was prettier and with a staff of doctors over 50 years old, conservative and religious, the collegiate and trusting atmosphere was very high. The only thing that bothered Isa about the uniform was that it facilitated the clinic with its logo on the clothes and all the paraphernalia. It consisted of two different types. A dress uniform, which closed in the middle and reached to the mid-thigh or pants and a nurse's blouse that also closed in the middle, all immaculate white, panties, stockings or socks had to be white matching, as well as the lingerie, and the upper parts of both uniforms with a scoop neckline that ended at the beginning of the chest. Both the pantaloon uniform and the dress uniform were tailored and fitted, so the figure of all the nurses was extremely enhanced and their curves overflowed with sensuality. At first Isa had complained to her plant manager and personnel manager, especially about comfort, but the cut and style were house rules, besides it was in the regulation that cited the work contract and she had signed it, the managers had commented indifferently as if taking away its importance. Then she mentioned it with her colleagues. All recognized that it wasn't the most comfortable clothing for doing their job, but they downplayed it. Lidia, a dark-haired colleague like her, around 45 years old, with whom she had gotten along best, jokingly and laughingly pointed out that one of the clinic's services was to delight the male patients' eyes to motivate them recover as soon as possible. Good, the uniform topic was the only aspect that needed improvement, otherwise the work was fantastic and he had ended his economic emergencies. Now Pepe was more relaxed, especially since knowing that the doctors were older and conservative, and most of the patients were men who were even older. His opposition to Isa working had been simple and plain jealousy. He didn't know the unfortunate and mouthy Pepe, how little it mattered or interested him as a man to Isa, who only stayed with him for his children. Always professional and distant, Isa couldn't avoid the gazes of desire from the patients when she showed them her balcony view, with those enormous globes drawing themselves in the air, her smooth skin, the wonderful scent of her perfume that impregnated her lightly bronzed skin. She also felt him contemplating her ass, firm and springy, especially on days he wore tight pants, when he had to turn around and show it while doing something in the room. When she finished and turned back to see them, she would contemplate their gaping faces and bright eyes of desire, while she would draw a courteous and robotic smile. Leaving them burning in her room. After commenting on the play with Lidia, who also lived similar situations and they would laugh at the patients. The truth was, it was wonderful to be back to work. And being able to share some laughs about those silly patients. Isa always wore white pantyhose or stockings up to mid-thigh that were held by elastic bands, if she wore a dress-overalls over medium-high heels in the shape of a white slipper with a strap on the instep and an embellisher on top that held the foot in place, and if she wore pants some white ankle boots, more narrow but also of medium height, to emphasize especially her ass. Moving like this throughout the clinic, flaunting her curves like a woman, woman, through the corridors and patient rooms, as well as common areas, with her cold and distant aspect to the gazes that devoured her, with her precious doll-like face and courteous but indifferent smile. In complicity with her colleagues, showing herself close and warm towards them, without pretending to be the most desired in the clinic, as they had mockingly nicknamed her.

Isa was an expert at managing patients, avoiding contact or cutting off any unwanted contact, piercing them with her cold and impassive gaze, and showing herself inflexible and distant. She knew very well how to distinguish when a patient would lean on some part of her body because he couldn't help it and when he did so to caress her. And the patients usually reacted embarrassed and intimidated by her attitude. But not all.

On her floor there was a man in his mid-seventies. Mr. Joaquin Pérez, a fibrous old man with bright gray hair, always grumpy with a line on his face from his mouth. He was there recovering his mobility after a skiing accident that had caused multiple sprains.

From the first day he saw Isa, Don Joaquin, as everyone called him, would smile like a wolf licking its lips.

- What a yummy thing we have here! You're so pretty with that face.

He said bluntly to Isa, who was wearing a tight-fitting uniform over her high heels, while she responded, putting on her worst stone-faced expression with an icy gaze.

- Besides being a woman, you're precious, little girl!

The old man insisted! As Isa walked away with a scowl and another nurse took Don Joaquin to his room. In the clinic, Isa always wore her hair tied up at the top with a large hairpin, while some strands fell down. Sensually curved to the right side of her forehead, so that her precious doll-like face with rounded cheeks and naturally bronzed skin, her small perfect nose, her round and brilliant eyes, her mouth with appetizing lips and perfect teeth, was displayed to hypnotize patients.

Despite Isa's distant, cold, arrogant, and disdainful attitude, Don Joaquin did not stop flirting aggressively every time he ran into her. Luckily for her, Don Joaquin was not a patient assigned to her. Something that his new friend Lidia wasn't.

- Well, woman, it's not that much, I really feel flattered that he always remembers how good I look...he's the only one who does, already! Hahahaha! Normally when they're impudent, I'm more impudent than them and most of the time it works.






Lidia was saying to him while commenting in the break room, how heavy and intimidating don Joaquín was.

- Well, it doesn't make me any sense, Lidia. He just gives you flirty comments with a smile. He devours me with his eyes like a predator. Believe me, those gazes are very distinguishable.

Isa responded anxiously and proudly.

That turn, Marta, Lidia's companion, attending to don Joaquín, warned that she was sick for at least the whole week. Laura, the plant manager, warned Isa that during her shift she would take care of don Joaquín along with Lidia.

- Damn! This guy doesn't make me any sense either!

Isa told Lidia.

- Well, woman, don't exaggerate. Besides, he has limited mobility, when he's not in reha, he's lying down watching TV, what a punch in the gut, he hasn't left a single joint healthy, haha.

Lidia responded, trying to calm Isa down.






CONTINUE


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