The Battle Of The Sexes

 

The man lay on the bed, his back to the woman standing by the window.  The same light from behind, which threw her into silhouette, glistened on his skin, his rising buttocks outlining his manly shape.  He could sense her presence, and he flinched involuntarily when her fingers touched, his muscles tensing as he anticipated her next move.
     Slim, beautiful and dark haired, she had a touch that would overcome the resistance of any man.
     She didn’t speak; she didn’t have to.  She knew she had him at her mercy, just like so many men before, and that there was nothing he could do.  She was not about to stop now.
     The moment came when his self control was gone, and he turned abruptly to face her.  She smiled at him.  She was in control and once more in the battle of the sexes, woman had come out on top.
     “By eck!”  He said abruptly, his Yorkshire dialect unrestrained, “that bloody urt.”
     “Sorry,” said the nurse, as she lay aside the syringe, checking before she drew back the curtains around his bed that he was properly covered.   

         “It’ll only sting for a moment.” she said in a loud whisper as she walked down the ward, displaying for all to see, the very beginning of a smile.