Leighton has a lot of experience with cleaning and dressing things like this. If you feel uncomfortable at any point just let either of us know and we’ll stop immediately okay?” I smile and nod my head at her, removing my trousers and top. I feel embarrassed at myself, trying to cover my breasts up to avoid her disapproving gaze. Whether or not she was actually looking doesn’t matter, either way I still feel ugly.
She closes her eyes whilst I get into position on the bed, clearly sensing my insecurities. I breathe out a pleasure laden breath as I mould into the sheets. Heaven must feel just like this. The softness is encasing me like a protective shield, making it near impossible for me to do anything. I am sure I would sooner or later fall asleep.
“You ready honey?” she asks me in that warming voice of hers, almost motherly.
“Yes.” I simply answer, trying to get comfortable, as my abrasions and cuts stick to the sheet.
I hear the door open and close and then two sets of feet pad inside.
“Am I okay to clean and disinfect the wounds on your back?” I hear the deep tone of Leighton.
“Yes.” I answer simply again. I can’t say much more, I have nothing more to say.
“Okay, this will be pretty hot, so it may sting the deeper cuts sweetheart.” I jolt from the bed as I feel a scalding hot cotton wool ball touch a cut on my back.
“Sorry.” His voice calms me instantly as my body accustoms itself with the heat of the water cleaning it.
“It’s okay. Thank you for doing this Leighton.” I have managed to say more than one word and it surprises me.
His warm fingertips trail down my spine gently, almost tickling my sensitive and sore flesh, stopping occasionally to put lotions onto my wounds.
“You have some nasty scars here. You really have had a crappy run haven’t you?” I nod, trying to hold back my tears.
His fingers brush the top of my buttocks. A shiver courses through my body. It felt so good to have the warmth and tender care of someone, some of the previous angst and fright I had had about anyone touching me, dissipated instantly. I was relaxing into the sheets and it felt nice.
“Ahhh” I moan out loud, a little embarrassed about my little public display.
“I guess you like that huh?” The answer to that, Mr Hero, would be YES. His fingers begin to knead into my delicate flesh, pushing at the knots my back encased from sleepless nights on the streets on a piece of cardboard.
“Just relax, enjoy it. When was the last time someone touched you for something other than to use you?”
Good question? What is the answer?
“Three years ago. My boyfriend was killed. I wanted to stay with my foster parents, I really did. But everywhere I looked I saw him, even for the short hour I stayed after the police informed us of his murder. I left home the same evening and have been on the streets since. I couldn’t face being there. It wasn’t only me who had lost someone, but Lisa and Carl too.” it is nice to be able to tell someone how I feel.
“That’s a long time sweetie. I’m sorry to hear about your boyfriend. You couldn’t have been more than a child when he died.”
“I was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and he the same age. I’m twenty one now.” Twenty one years of my life, achieving nothing, the four months with David were some of the only months in my entire life I felt cherished, loved, wanted and needed. Lisa and Carl had given me that too, a home, love, warmth and tenderness. I miss them so much and feel guilty for the pain I must have caused when I walked away from them. None of this is their fault and I know, because that’s just how they worked, that they would blame themselves, probably still are, for everything that has happened with David’s murder and probably anything I have suffered on the streets.
“I couldn’t imagine what you’ve gone through.” I hear him sigh as he thinks through my life.
“It’s been pretty shit to be honest. Some days I
She closes her eyes whilst I get into position on the bed, clearly sensing my insecurities. I breathe out a pleasure laden breath as I mould into the sheets. Heaven must feel just like this. The softness is encasing me like a protective shield, making it near impossible for me to do anything. I am sure I would sooner or later fall asleep.
“You ready honey?” she asks me in that warming voice of hers, almost motherly.
“Yes.” I simply answer, trying to get comfortable, as my abrasions and cuts stick to the sheet.
I hear the door open and close and then two sets of feet pad inside.
“Am I okay to clean and disinfect the wounds on your back?” I hear the deep tone of Leighton.
“Yes.” I answer simply again. I can’t say much more, I have nothing more to say.
“Okay, this will be pretty hot, so it may sting the deeper cuts sweetheart.” I jolt from the bed as I feel a scalding hot cotton wool ball touch a cut on my back.
“Sorry.” His voice calms me instantly as my body accustoms itself with the heat of the water cleaning it.
“It’s okay. Thank you for doing this Leighton.” I have managed to say more than one word and it surprises me.
His warm fingertips trail down my spine gently, almost tickling my sensitive and sore flesh, stopping occasionally to put lotions onto my wounds.
“You have some nasty scars here. You really have had a crappy run haven’t you?” I nod, trying to hold back my tears.
His fingers brush the top of my buttocks. A shiver courses through my body. It felt so good to have the warmth and tender care of someone, some of the previous angst and fright I had had about anyone touching me, dissipated instantly. I was relaxing into the sheets and it felt nice.
“Ahhh” I moan out loud, a little embarrassed about my little public display.
“I guess you like that huh?” The answer to that, Mr Hero, would be YES. His fingers begin to knead into my delicate flesh, pushing at the knots my back encased from sleepless nights on the streets on a piece of cardboard.
“Just relax, enjoy it. When was the last time someone touched you for something other than to use you?”
Good question? What is the answer?
“Three years ago. My boyfriend was killed. I wanted to stay with my foster parents, I really did. But everywhere I looked I saw him, even for the short hour I stayed after the police informed us of his murder. I left home the same evening and have been on the streets since. I couldn’t face being there. It wasn’t only me who had lost someone, but Lisa and Carl too.” it is nice to be able to tell someone how I feel.
“That’s a long time sweetie. I’m sorry to hear about your boyfriend. You couldn’t have been more than a child when he died.”
“I was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and he the same age. I’m twenty one now.” Twenty one years of my life, achieving nothing, the four months with David were some of the only months in my entire life I felt cherished, loved, wanted and needed. Lisa and Carl had given me that too, a home, love, warmth and tenderness. I miss them so much and feel guilty for the pain I must have caused when I walked away from them. None of this is their fault and I know, because that’s just how they worked, that they would blame themselves, probably still are, for everything that has happened with David’s murder and probably anything I have suffered on the streets.
“I couldn’t imagine what you’ve gone through.” I hear him sigh as he thinks through my life.
“It’s been pretty shit to be honest. Some days I
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