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Leighton took care of me, in more ways than one.
It was really hard for me to bathe. I had two hard shell synthetic casts that had to stay on and they had to stay dry. One cast was on my leg so I couldn't shower. I could hardly hang the leg out of the bathtub since I could not climb into or sit in the tub safely. No use even trying.
I complained to him one of those first afternoons at home that I was really fed up with the bird baths I had to take. “I don’t want the home care nurse to have to wash me, but I’m struggling.”
His eyes lit up.
“Uh-oh. My mad scientist is back with a solution to the problem,” I teased.
Indeed he was! Leighton proposed taking over and bathing me every afternoon when he came by.
"Oooh,baby! Yum!" I lit up.
His excuse? “No strangers need to see your beautiful body. And no brother, and certainly not a brother-in-law, should see their grown sister in the buff. That's reserved for herlover! Here. I.Am!”
That first time? He took great care in taking my clothes off and doing the actual washing. The first time, though, he got choked up seeing all the bruising. He washed very, very gingerly.
But the second time? I wanted to feast my eyes on him, too! So, that time—and every time after that—I made him strip before washing me. Only fair.
When he got to one certain part of my anatomy, he made us both a little crazy. Well, me. We were stripped bare of all but my two casts. He got a washcloth hot and soapy. Rung it out. And held me from behind as he placed the cloth in his palm and put his palm over my pussy. Oooh! Had I done that to myself before? Yes, but no comparison! He gently pulled at my pubic hair to clean it. Pressed and did a slow, ever-so-subtle massage of my clit.
He was kissing my neck, ears, and face the whole time, begging, "Let go. Fall back into me and come."
I almost did, but in the trying, I felt no more body aches or pains. Just Leighton's hand on me and tingles. "Oh, baby, the tingles feel so good!"
Then he rinsed the washcloth hot and soapy again, held us chest to chest, and washed me between my buttocks. With his stiff cock trapped between my thighs. Now, who knewthatwould feel sosexy?!
Boy, oh boy, did my man make me feel good during bath time! Heavy breathing was certainly helping me recover faster (I wouldnotbe telling my doctor my secret).
My only regret was that he wouldn't let me return the feel-good favor and take care of his pulsing needs. He would only say, “All in good time, my darlin’. That’sveryadvanced physical therapy and you’re not there yet!”
I had to content myself with ogling his hardness and touching him as much as he’d let me. Finally, I begged him to masturbate in front of me. “Sure?” he asked. I could see in his eyes that was a turn-on for him!
“Look at the big grin of lustful anticipation on my face, baby! Go on. I wannasee.”
Nonetheless, he played hard-to-get, “Uhh … darlin’? I dunno ‘bout this. I mean ...”
“I might drool?”
“Yeah. You might get overexcited and faint or something. And I won’t be able to catch you …”
“…cuz your hands will be busy?”
He just nodded.
I saw the grin on his face, “I see that Tony Stark gleam in your eye. Oh, don’t tease, baby! Come on,please?”
He laughed and smooched me, but I wheedled and begged.
Finally, he pretended to give in. I watched every expression on his face when he came—every grimace, wide eyes, and movement of his mouth. I recorded in my heart every raspy groan and "I'm there now!" moan when he ejaculated.
I loved it! I knew it’d relax him. And as the saying goes, “Turnabout is fair play.”
On another of those early afternoons (bathing and related activities long over), I was fretting to Leighton about Amy and Alex, “Jerry’s run the numbers for me. He’s assured me that I can continue paying their full salary for a while. But that can’t last forever. I don't even know when the doctor will release me to go back to work. And going back to work is a ridiculous idea anyway.I only have one arm!”
For a minute, I felt like I’d break down.
Control what I can. What I can.
