EntrarStuck in a Window: “Rose, 25-year-old nurse”
Author’s Note: A reupload of my “Stuck in a Wall” story from CHYOA.
You finish up for the day by changing out of your blue scrubs and into a flowing yellow sundress that barely contains your ample breasts. Stepping out of the bathroom stall, you examine yourself in the clinically clean hospital mirror.
The change of clothes barely conceals the fact that you just finished a grueling 10-hour shift that had you running from end to end of the building, cleaning up bodily fluids, changing IVs, and performing thankless manual labor. Your blonde hair frizzes at unattractive angles, and the dark circles under your eyes make your face look paler than usual. Still, the exhaustion clear on your face doesn’t stop elderly men from slapping your ass or groping your breasts when you lean over to change their bedding or IV. The daily sexual harassment is something you’ve learned to live with as a nurse, especially a nurse as busty as yourself.
You sigh. And you begin the work of applying bright red lipstick, concealer, and a little eyeliner to make your big brown eyes look a little less sad. Normally, you wouldn’t do all this while still at work, but today is your 8th anniversary with your fiancé Rick, and he likes it when you came home from work looking a little less like an electrocuted squirrel. You brush out your hair – starting to feel a little more confident the longer you stare at yourself in the mirror. It has been a long time since you really dressed up, longer still since you’ve had sex. You hope all this effort would not go to waste with your fiancé tonight.
Putting away your makeup bag, you sling your workbag across your chest, the strap enveloped by your cleavage. You smile, your hands wandering down your curves as you caress the sides of your breasts. They seem to barely be contained by the tiny yellow dress, and your touch causes your nipples to protrude through the fabric. You suddenly become embarrassed. What if someone walked in right now? Besides, you’re supposed to save such touches for your fiancé.
You hear a buzz from within your purse, and pull out your phone to see a text that makes your eyebrows raise.
Trevor: hey. got in an accident. im at lilyworth hospital, don’t suppose ur still on duty?
You frown. A million questions racing through your brain. You haven’t talked to Trevor in forever. But he had been one of your best friends from high school that you’d flirted with off and on back in the day. Now, he’s one of Rick’s best friends. You want to text back immediately, to call him and make sure everything is okay. But the tone of the text seems more casual than that. Still, you’d kick yourself if it was serious and you didn’t even bother to check on him. Plus, he’d specifically requested you.
You glance at the time. You’re not on duty anymore, but you could visit as a friend. Besides, Rick is probably still playing video games, and likely will be for the next several hours.
It doesn’t take long for you to access the hospital’s computer system and use your credentials to look up Trevor’s name. You note the room number and make your way to the third floor, fully aware that your yellow sundress, red heels, and face of makeup make you stand out in this clinical environment.
You find him in a corner room. A fellow nurse, Kathi, is just finishing up taking his vitals.
“Everything seems okay! But we’re still going to ask you to stick around for a little while, just so we can make sure you didn’t get a concussion.” Kathi says in her all-too-perky voice.
“Thanks! I’ll try not to walk into any more traffic.” The boy slouched on the bed wearing an arm-cast is a few years younger than Rose, his brown hair swept over a smiling freckled face. His eyes seem to light up as you walk into the room.
“Rose! Damn. You sure that’s dress code appropriate?” He gives you an appreciative nod, trying to be respectful. You note that he can’t seem to keep his eyes away from your cleavage.
“I’m off work, doofus. I was just about to head home when I got your text. What happened?” You demand. You try not to sound worried. But its hard to hide your soft spot for Trevor.
“Unlike you, I’m just starting my shift. I’ll leave you two to it!” Kathi practically skips out of the room, the door shutting behind her. You roll your eyes. Trevor chuckles.
“Uh, yeah. I walked into an oncoming car.” Trevor makes a face like he knows he’s about to get yelled at. You just shake your head.
“How on earth did that happen? How did you only walk away with a broken arm?” You cross your arms under your breasts, pushing them together.
“I- uh…” Trevor trails off, his attention grabbed by something.
“What?” You’re having fun teasing him, it’s all fun and games, anyway. There had never been anything romantic between you and Trevor, although all your friends had guessed there would be. It is simply fun to have someone look at you like that.
“Sorry, there’s just a bunch of noise outside. Could you see what it is?” Trevor asks. You contain your eyeroll this time. He is not fooling you. Still, you decide to go along with it. You don’t want to embarrass him too badly after all.
You put your workbag down as you stroll over to the third story window. Trevor isn’t lying, it does sound like there’s a lot of noise coming from the street. Unfortunately, the angle offered by this window wasn’t the best.
Curiosity getting the best of you, you crack the window open and stick your head out. You can just make out the edge of a crowd of people from this angle, but not what they are congregating for. You shove the window a little further to the right, it’s sticky, and doesn’t seem to want to open further. Getting it as wide open as you can, you force your top half through the window, bending over the ledge to get a good look at the street below.
A couple police cars are parked in the middle of an intersection, and traffic has piled up. A large semi-truck has crashed into not one, but several other cars. The street is a mess and it is attracting onlookers.
“Looks like an accident. A real bad one at that. Did you have anything to do with it, Trevor?”
Curiosity satisfied, you attempt to pull yourself back from the ledge. But as you attempt to squeeze yourself back through the window, you find yourself stuck at the midriff.
“Oh, come on!” You attempt to push the window open further, but it seems well and truly stuck, some sort of sticky residue jamming up the sliding mechanism. You pull back even harder, but all you succeed in doing is putting yourself in a tighter spot, squeezing your boobs against the outside of the building. You hang there, belly over the window ledge, your breasts and top half hanging out of a third story window for the world to see, your back half still draped over the window sill in the hospital.
You suddenly realize that Trevor is in the prime position to see straight up your dress, and your pair of peach cotton underwear. Your face turns a similar shade as your underwear. This is mortifying.
Do you tell Trevor you’re stuck?
