T.L.C.

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TLC in the shower is just what she needs after surgery.
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"Is everything OK?" He asked, peering around the door jam. She jumped at the sound, and shoved him away, slamming the door none-too-gently in his face. Then she pressed her hand against her abdomen and winced.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just go." Her exasperated voice ordered. He ignored her and leaned up against the wall, waiting. He heard a squeak as she turned the shower on and his mind raced with images of her body; naked, hot and wet. He tested the door, finding it unlocked, and slipped inside the bathroom. Her silhouette was framed against the cream colored shower curtain. He could hear her cursing to herself as she struggled to lift her arms over her head to shampoo her hair. He quietly peeked around the curtain, seeing her eyes closed; he quickly shed his clothes and stepped up behind her, making a small noise to announce himself.

"Jesus!" Startled, she spun around, and slammed smack into his hard chest. His arms came up around her, pulling her wet body against his, gingerly. She wiped at her eyes, which had gotten soap in them. He used the pads of his thumbs to help rinse them, then moved his hands up to wrap his fingers around her wet hair and lift her face to his. She blinked, testing to make sure the soap was out of her eyes and stared at him.

"What do you think you are doing?" She demanded, her hands coming up between their bodies to push him away. "Get out of here."

"You're a pushy broad, aren't you?" He laughed at her. "I'm helping you wash. You seemed unsteady and in pain and you now have soap in your eyes. Just close them, I'll help you."

"The soap got there because you startled me. I'm only pushy because you are being pushy with me." She poked his chest as she spoke. "Now get out. I can take a shower by myself." Her knees were still weak, this time the culprit was not just her silly body, but mostly the very wet and hard man before her. But, she wasn't about to admit weakness. She wasn't about to end up in this very wet man's arms, nor in bed with him. That just wasn't on the agenda. She scolded herself when her eyes wandered to his growing erection. He watched her in amusement and mistook the direction of her eyes for interest. He knew "invitation" was pushing it.

"Turn around, I'll soap you up." He was already pouring her liquid body wash into his hands. She sighed, held onto his arm and complied, because she was, she'd admit to herself at least, feeling weak again. The pain from the surgery was taking a lot out of her. He worked the soap into a lather and then went to work. His touch was magic, sending tingles across her skin. When his hard body pressed against hers, she groaned inwardly. He was gentle, but not overly-so and he took his time and was efficient. He started at her shoulders, massaging them as he massaged the soap in. Then slid his hands down her back, playfully squeezing her butt on the way down. She rolled her eyes. He moved to face her and his hands continued to skim down her arms, to her hands. He paused and lifted them to his lips so he could kiss her fingers, while gazing into her eyes. She pulled her hands back and looked everywhere but at his face, as he washed the front of her body, slipping against her soft skin. He was very careful of her incision.

Then, he made his way down her legs. He lifted one foot at a time, while she held onto his shoulders and massaged each toe, tickling her in the process. She tried to cover up her giggle with a cough. He knelt before her and leaned forward to gently kiss all around her incision, with a boyish grin upon his face. How could she be mad at that? She wondered. OK, so far, nothing too sexual. She could handle that. Then he rose, with a look in his eye that had her heart aflutter and mind screaming warning. She felt his fingers brush across the swell of her breast and she looked down to see her nipple pebble up in response. His fingers caressed her breasts and rolled her nipples between them. He looked down, then back into her eyes, before he lowered his head and took one wet nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling expertly around it. Her body arched in response and he mistook her growl of annoyance as encouragement and let his other hand glide down her abdomen.

The combination of steamy pounding water, hot wet mouth, and tantalizing touch, sent her over the edge, literally. She cried out as she lost her balance and started toppling over the tub's edge. He leaped into action and caught her before she could fall, swooping her soaped-up soaked body into his arms. He climbed over the tub and strode out of the bathroom.

"Wait, I'm still soapy." She observed. He nodded, stepped back into the spray, assured himself they were both thoroughly rinsed off and did the same thing again, stopping to grab a towel off the rack and her cosmetics bag. He draped the towel over her. She was breathless by the time he lay her in the bed and eased her back against the pillows. He unzipped the bag and found what he needed: gauze, medical tape, disinfectant solution, and ointment. He set about tending to the incision on the right side of her lower abdomen. He knew it hurt her and offered her one of her pain killers she had sitting on the bedside table. She gratefully accepted it and the glass of water he held out to her, then sighed and tried not to wince as he re-covered the site.

"Does it hurt really bad?" The first time he had asked about it.

"It's tender." She cringed. "Oh hell, it hurts like a mother." She admitted, reaching for a pillow. He beat her to it and placed the pillow gently against her abdomen to brace herself. "Thanks. Why are you doing this?"

"I want to." Was his simple reply.

"I do know how to clean and take care of an incision, it is my livelihood after all." She reminded him, while being impressed with his ministrations.

"I know. You take such good care of other people, you deserve to be taken care of, for a little while." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate it. But it's a little unnecessary, really."

"Will you stop talking and relax, just for a minute, please?" His eyes begged her to comply. She yawned and started to stretch before she moaned in pain.

"I hate this. I hate feeling incapacitated like this." She complained.

"I know it is hard for you. But you have to learn to listen to your body and slow down and relax. Why don't you lie back, close your eyes and try to get some rest." He suggested, pulling the blankets up from the bottom of the bed. She was still naked and seeing her that way was going to make it hard to leave her there, untouched.

"What are you going to do?" Curiosity getting the better of her.

"Make you something to eat, I suppose." He tucked the blankets around her and turned away. But her hand on his arm stopped him. He turned back. She looked so damn cute, with her wet hair, big eyes, and annoyed look she still wore.

"Do you need something else?" The question out before he could stop it.

"You could sit with me." Her voice softened.

"I'm not so sure that's such a good idea." He stated blankly.

"What? So you can barge into my bathroom, jump into my shower, get me all hot and bothered, tuck me into bed and leave, just like that? You ask me if I need something and I'm telling you I need you stay with me and you won't? Helluva guy." She replied, anger clouding her eyes.

"It isn't that. Dammit! If I stay here with you looking all hot and bothered and sweet and needy, I might ignore the doctor's orders, work around that incision of yours, and not just nestle myself into your bed, but into you." There, it was out, he'd just admitted he wanted her. The blush rose furiously to her cheeks and her jaw dropped open. That was not the response she was guessing on. She had figured he was bored or had something better to do than watch her all night.

"Um, OK. Well." She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat. "I see."

"No, I don't think you do." He growled out as he claimed her lips in a possessive kiss, leaving her flustered, light-headed more than she already was, and yearning. Then because he couldn't resist, he kissed her again, more softly this time. His lips gently coaxed her lips apart, his tongue sliding against hers, his hands back in her hair again. He loved the silkiness of it.

"But. You could just hold me. That's all I was asking for anyway." She said, giving him puppy dog eyes that were hard to resist and pushing her wet hair out of her face.

"But you would end up getting more than that, trust me on this. It is safer if I go sleep on the couch and you stay here and get your rest." He tried reasoning with her. She held the pillow against herself and struggled to sit up.

"What are you doing?" He let her hold his arm.

"Can you get me a nightgown out of my bottom drawer." She pointed.

"What for?" He asked, confused.

"I'll put that on, then you won't have to look at me naked." She grinned at him. "Then, you are going to climb into this bed and hold me. No arguments."

"You drive a hard bargain." But he did as she asked and went to her drawer, seeking out a soft nightgown for her to wear. He kept his eyes on her face in the mirror, so as not to be tempted by the lingerie in her drawer. He cursed inwardly when he felt satin slide against his hand and pulled out a cotton nightgown, quickly tossing it to her. She giggled and struggled to sit up further.

"You can close your eyes, but I'm going to need you to help me put this on, OK? And just so you know, I'm not that fragile. You can kiss me and we can even get playful. I'm healing well."

"No! If we start getting playful, that will lead to frisky, which will lead to foreplay and then some. We can't chance it. You aren't recovered enough." He lay down the rules, firmly. She sighed in response.

"What if I don't want to be careful? Argh! Fine, fine. Just help me on with the nightgown and then get in bed." He nodded and helped her into the nightgown, then readjusted her pillows for her and lay beside her, putting his arms around her. She turned her face to his and returned his kiss. Her hair smelled of coconut and her skin smelled like wildberries. He reached for the brush that was laying beside the medicine on her table.

"If you go to sleep like that it will be a tangled mess in the morning." He explained, knowing she was about to make a comment.

"Maybe I like it tangled." She pouted at him and he kissed her again.

"While I do thoroughly enjoy helping you tangle that hair," His hot breath whispered into her ear, " Trust me, you'll be glad in the morning that it was brushed." He ended the argument with a wink. When she felt the first run of the brush through her hair, she melted against him and gave a contented sigh. He knew her weakness. He wasn't quite sure, but he thought he heard her purr in pleasure. More than male pride swelled, then. He subtly readjusted himself. When he was satisfied the tangles were all out, he kissed her cheek. She lay back on the pillows and he stroked her hair, until the even breathing told him she was asleep. He knew he would get none for himself, tonight.

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4 Comments
Mostera1Mostera1over 12 years ago
Again,

Simply beautiful.

Thank you!

LunaEroticaMysticaLunaEroticaMysticaabout 13 years agoAuthor
anonymous responses

Thank you both for your comments. I'm glad you enjoyed the story and appreciate the feedback! I have no plans, thus far, of expanding the story. It was inspired by someone having surgery and their lover needing to behave because of it and that struggle.

While I see the logic, Anonymous 2: I can say that were the woman petite (personal experience) it would be entirely possible to have been carried to and fro and back again, with not much effort on the man's part...even stopping for a towel. He'd have to of course be bigger and strong, but...and on top of that, a girl can dream, right?

I had thought about the oils and time spent on drying her off, but that would have led to more action than her body could handle at the time, thus the tend hairbrushing session.

~LunaEroticaMystica

AnonymousAnonymousover 13 years ago
Thanks for a good example...

... Of caring gentleness. A few quibbles: re-entering the shower while carrying even a pixie of a waif isn't that easy; neither is grabbing a towel while carefully carrying a partner. Better to carry her to the bed, then gently caress her dry with a mountain of towels and solicitously lave away the soap residue with scented oils, oh-so-gently helping her support herself on her left side with pillows as he caresses her back, shoulders, and scalp .. which leads later to the hairbrushing.

But it's your story (wink)...

AnonymousAnonymousover 13 years ago
nice

so far you have a nice beginning to the story. please continue on with more chapters. i would like to know hat happens between the two of them.

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