Healing David

"Your little girl."

"Oh yeah, so then it was just me and her. So I could still make a bit of money from the cooking, but there wasn't a steady job with hours that suited the childcare. I still give cookery classes at a posh bistro near here. Saturday mornings. 'Caribbean Flavours', I call it. Very popular with bored, prosperous white ladies in search of something exotic. A bit like the guys who come to see me at Rosie's, only with food instead of sex. I never let them know that I was born in London, and haven't been to Jamaica since I was eleven." She smiled broadly.

"But Ellie and I can't live just off that," she continued. "So I needed another way of making money. And what else did I have going for me? My looks and my body, right?"

"Right."

"So," continued Angie, "I'm a decent dancer, and I found some work stripping in a couple of the small strip bars round the City. Not the big, famous, table dance places you'll have heard of. The small bars. Less pressurised. And that was OK. And then one of the girls I got to know did a bit of escorting. She introduced me to Rosie. Rosie's OK - she seems pretty rough and scary, but she's OK. So I started at the flat, just as a maid first of all."

"Maid?" Helen had visions of some kind of period role-play, with Angie in a servant's uniform.

"It means receptionist. It's easy work but the money's not great. You answer the phone, do the bookings, look after the cash, generally keep an eye on the place. And of course you're there for the working girl if there's any trouble. Which there usually isn't, to be honest. Well, anyway, a couple of the girls had regular customers who liked a Maid Watching service."

Helen just looked blank. She sensed that Angie was enjoying taking her on a tour of London's secret side.

"Maid Watching. The guy pays extra for the maid to sit in the room and watch while the girl sees him. It's surprisingly popular."

Helen wondered at the euphemistic use of "sees". Why not "has sex with", or "fucks", given the general tone of the conversation?

"So I did that when I could," continued Angie. "And then there are guys who pay more again if the maid sits there topless. And even more for the maid to give hand relief as part of the service, if it fits with what the girl is doing. Finishing over the girl's bum, for instance. And then one day the regular girl didn't turn up, and the customers did. I called Rosie. She asked if I'd like to work that day - to see customers - if she came round and acted as maid. I've been doing two or three day shifts a week for about a year now. What with that, the cookery classes and a bit of stripping, it's enough to look after Ellie. So, Helen - how do you feed yourself and your kids?"

Helen sighed. "I don't have kids. I'm a civil servant. HR Manager. I don't know what to say. You must despise me."

"Not at all, darling. And you know why? Cos I can tell you don't despise me. That's good. That means something. We're not that different, really. I'll do anything to look after Ellie. You'll do anything to look after your brother. You're in a really bad place, I can see that. I know all about bad places, Helen."

Angie looked at her watch. "Look, I'd better go. Let's not exchange mobile numbers. You sort out the practical details with your doctor friend. Call the flat when you want to contact me. Rosie will help." She stood to go and held out her hand. "It's been nice meeting you, Helen. I mean it. I hope it all works out for you and your brother."

They shook hands. Helen looked at Angie as she left the bar, as did everyone else there. Her own spotlight seemed to follow her. The affection that Helen felt for Angie was tempered by flashes of petty envy: at Angie's ability to walk so elegantly in very high heels, which always made Helen look and feel precarious. At her slim legs, which were subtly flattered by her close-fitting white Capri pants. At her high, round, firm-looking buttocks, which the trousers flattered less subtly. Helen watched Angie's perfect bottom shimmy out of view, finished her gin and tonic, and ordered another one.

******

It was a sunny afternoon when the taxi carrying Angie and Helen drew up outside the clinic. Helen was elated and terrified, high on adrenaline. Her hitherto unremarkable life had somehow turned into a suburban London remake of "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest". I am smuggling a prostitute into a psychiatric clinic, she told herself. How the fuck did I get here?

Some rather oblique conversations with Dr Sandhu, and some more direct phone calls with Angie, brokered by Rosie, had finalised the practicalities. The main problem had been about the timing. The clinic staff observed David at deliberately slightly irregular intervals, on average once every hour. The best chance was for them to get in while Dr Sandhu had all the staff accompanying her on her weekly round. If they were all with a patient at the other end of the building, the coast would be clear, hopefully for long enough. As for what they would actually do in the room - Angie said she had some ideas. She said that it was all about choosing exactly what, and what not, to wear. When she got into the taxi she had on a short, dark blue, flounced skirt and a light denim jacket, despite the warmth, over what looked like a white singlet or sun top. She was bare-legged and wore high heeled sandals. Her make-up was minimal and discreet. Helen realised that Angie was not in fact nearly as tall as she had thought, not much taller than Helen, in fact - initial impressions of a catwalk model's stature had been deceptive, but Angie's long legs, high heels and effortlessly elegant carriage gave an impression of height. In any case, she looked gorgeous, without being blatantly sexy. She carried a small handbag. Money changed hands in the taxi.

They approached the clinic's reception desk, where Helen was well known. "Hello Miss Wheeler - here to visit your brother, I presume? And this is ...?"

"Angela Headley," said Angie, with a charming smile. "A friend of David's, here to see him." Helen remembered what "see" could mean in Angie's world.

"You may go straight to his room, ladies," said the receptionist.

Helen led the way up the stairs and to the end of a long corridor. They stopped outside the door of David's room. "Angie," whispered Helen, "do you really need me in there? Shouldn't I keep watch out here?"

"No. You standing out here might attract attention. Hang on, let me check something ..." Angie snatched a quick glance through the small glass observation panel that was let into the door. "OK - if I try to stay on the left side of the room and keep him there - that's not the first thing you see when you look in. And that's where the bed is. You stay a bit more in the middle, maybe in that armchair so you can watch this glass window thing. We can't cover that with something, can we?"

"No. Very strict rule. If anyone notices anything covering the glass they'll come straight into the room. It's a bigger risk than leaving it uncovered."

"OK. He looks nice, by the way."

"What?"

"I can see him sitting in the armchair. He looks nice. I like tall, slim men. And he has a sweet face."

Helen peered through the glass into the plain, simply furnished room. David was sitting in the armchair in that familiar collapsed-marionette position of his, with his long, thin arms and legs folded awkwardly. He was reading a book. His face was devoid of expression. He was young-looking, with rather soft, bland features. An unlikely front for one of the world's finest analytical minds. Or what was left of it.

"OK," whispered Angie, "we gonna do this?"

Helen nodded.

"Watch and learn, Helen. This is gonna be a world first. I bet you don't think it's possible for a girl to do a full strip without taking any of her clothes off except her jacket, to music that nobody can hear."

Before Helen could reply, Angie had knocked softly at the door and walked straight into the room. Helen rushed after her. "Hello David," said Helen gently. "This is Angie. I've brought her to see you. I think it will be a nice treat for you." Somehow she could not help speaking to the most intelligent man she had ever met as if he were a child.

"Hello David," said Angie. She took her denim jacket off and hung it over the back of a wooden chair that stood in front of a small table under the window. Immediately it was clear to Helen why Angie had worn the jacket. She was wearing a tight, white sun top with spaghetti straps, and it was very obvious indeed that she was not wearing a bra. Although her breasts were on the small side, and firm, they were still large enough to jiggle with her every movement, and would have attracted a lot of attention on the journey and at reception.

The single bed was on the side of the room opposite the window. At its foot there were a few square feet of floor space in front of a basin. That corner of the room was not easily visible through the glass panel in the door. "David, darling, do you want to sit at the end of the bed for me?" Angie was friendly but businesslike. On duty. Without a word, David got up, put his book on the table and sat on the end of the bed. She placed her bag on the floor and took from it two iPod Shuffle MP3 players. "Helen, love, you sit in the armchair." Helen obeyed, fascinated. Angie clipped one of the iPods to the hem of her own top, and reached over to clip the other to the loose t-shirt that David was wearing over sweatpants. She put her own earpieces in her ears. David did likewise. Angie leaned over to him: "Three ... two ... one ... go!" She pressed the Play buttons of both iPods simultaneously, and the silent, clothed striptease began.

Helen had only ever seen strippers in the background of cop and gangster films, and had no idea what really to expect. Angie gyrated, stooped and stretched, guided by the inaudible music. She never took her eyes off David. Her movements were smooth, full of grace, effortless. A decent dancer, all right. She hooked her thumbs under the straps of her top, feinted pulling them down a couple of times, then did it for real, slipping the top down to her waist, to expose her small, plump, conical breasts. Her nipples were jet black, the areolae very wide. Her torso was lean but not skinny, her musculature delicate. There was a sheen on her skin. Helen could not believe that this woman, with her taut, lithe body and firm, prominent tits, could have borne and fed a child. Angie licked her fingers, played with her nipples. She squeezed her breasts close to David's face. He followed her with his eyes but his expression did not change. Helen, on the other hand, to her own amazement, began to find herself becoming aroused.

Now Angie turned so her back was to David, pushed her bottom out, looked over her shoulder and lifted her skirt at the back. She was wearing nothing under it; her magnificent brown buttocks were fully exposed, and the cleft of her pussy was just visible below them. Helen saw a bulge start to form in David's sweatpants. She shifted in her chair, squeezed her thighs together. Angie bent down low, steadying herself by holding on to the basin. She pulled her skirt right up, pushed her arse out provocatively, pornographically. Gave herself a light, sharp spank on one bum cheek, flashing her eyes at David as she looked over her shoulder at him. Helen realised that Angie was only wearing two items of clothing - the top and the skirt - and that both were now bunched round her waist, leaving her exposed above and below. The clothed striptease. Genius. Angie moved her feet further apart so that her cunt was clearly visible, from behind, to David's gaze. She reached underneath herself and probed at her own slit with her slim fingers. Then another spank, harder this time. David was by now very obviously erect, although his face remained impassive. Helen was transfixed. Maid Watching, Angie had called it. Some guys pay extra.

Angie turned to face David and dropped into a deep squat, body upright, feet and knees wide apart. She held the front hem of her skirt up. Her tits and hairless pussy were fully exposed. Naked with all her clothes on. She tilted her pelvis up, reached down to finger herself again, probed deeper, pulled her cunt lips apart with her fingers. A flash of pink against her brown skin. She pushed a finger inside. Pulled it out, rubbed the fingertip on both nipples, licked it. She stood up, approached David with a stylised, hip-swaying catwalk gait, pushed her tits in his face again. She lifted one foot onto the bed next to him, skirt lifted, so her naked crotch was just below his face. She gyrated her hips, fingered herself again, licked her fingers, leaned forward and kissed David playfully on the forehead. Then unclipped both the iPods and placed them on the bed. Helen squeezed her thighs together, relished for a moment her own moist warmth.

Now Angie began to talk to David. A stream of pornographic patter, in a soft, fervent voice. Helen guessed it was all part of the act, and the words themselves in any other context would have seemed hackneyed and embarrassing, but Angie was so convincing that Helen could not help but be swept along.

"Mm, I can see you're getting all horny for me, aren't you, darling? What we gonna do about that, eh?" Angie gently pushed David in the chest; he did not resist, and fell back onto the bed. His erection formed a tent in his sweatpants. "Let's get these off you, eh darling?" David did not resist as Angie pulled the jogging pants and his boxer shorts down past his knees. Helen looked at her younger brother's erect penis, which jutted from his thin body. Not that she had all that much to compare it with, but it seemed to her to be quite large, noticeably thick and with a nice straight shaft, which for some reason she particularly appreciated. For a moment she wondered if she was losing her mind. And she did not care.

Angie carried on. "Ooh, you've got a nice one, babe, we're gonna have fun with that, aren't we?" Kneeling upright on the bed, she placed a slim hand on David's balls. "I bet you're all full of cum for me, sweetheart, eh? We're gonna make you shoot a big load, yeah? But we're gonna have some fun first." She took his hand and placed it under her skirt. "You feel that, babe? That's my wet little black pussy, that is. You feel how hot and wet she is? Feel how much she wants your cock, darling?" Angie reached into her handbag and took out a condom in its wrapper. "Let's get this on you, babe." Carefully she rolled it down the length of David's shaft. She pulled her skirt up high, straddled him, held his cock in position and lowered herself down onto it with a satisfied sigh. "Oh yes, babe, ooh that feels nice inside me." She began to rock gently on him, holding the skirt bunched up so her lower body stayed exposed. David reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands. "Mm, yes baby, you like my titties, yeah? You like my little black titties? You like how they jiggle when I fuck you?"

When Helen looked back on this day in later life, she could never explain to herself what happened next. What she did next. Keeping half an eye on the glass in the door, she unbuttoned her light cotton blouse. Angie looked across at her and winked. Helen slipped the straps of her bra down off her shoulders as far as they would go. She pulled down both the cups of her bra, and eased her large, heavy breasts out so they were completely exposed. There are guys who pay more again if the maid sits there topless. Angie smiled.

"Look, baby, look," sad Angie to David as she rode him. "You're such a lucky boy today. Your lovely sister's got her tits out for you to look at." David looked at Helen as he carried on touching Angie's breasts. "She's so kind to you, baby. She found a horny little black whore for you to fuck, and now she's showing you her lovely tits. It's your lucky day, baby. Angie's little black tits and Helen's big white ones, eh? I bet it was nice having such a sexy big sister. I bet you used to spy on her, try and get a good look at her big titties, didn't you, baby? Well they'e here for you now. You can look at them while you fuck my hot little cunt."

David was now gazing expressionlessly at Helen's breasts. He moved his hands from Angie's tits and held her buttocks as she rocked and ground on him. "Mmm, you like my big brown bum, sweetheart? My big round booty? You like black girls' arses, yeah? The way we wiggle them so sexy? I'm a naughty girl, darling, you can give me a little spank if you like."

It was David's first active response. He gave Angie a sharp little slap on one buttock. "Ooh yes, yes. I'm such a bad girl, baby. I'm such a filthy little fucking slut, you wouldn't believe. I need spanking, baby." David continued to spank her in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Angie moaned theatrically, although quietly, not quite as lost in the moment as she was making out. Helen pushed her naked chest out. She desperately wanted to touch herself.

Angie said, "You know what, babe, I've got a special treat for you, yeah? I think you'd like to come in my mouth, wouldn't you, babe? You'd like my big black lips round your cock till you to fill my mouth up with a big load of spunk?" Still no reply from David. Angie dismounted, easing his prick out of her. She peeled the condom off him, pulled a tissue from her bag and wrapped the condom in it. She kneeled next to him and guided the tip of his cock towards her lips.

Oral without a condom, to completion in the mouth, at her discretion.

Angie began to suck, softly. And what Helen did next ... well, nobody could have expected that. She got out of the armchair and walked to the bed. From a position where she could still see the door, she bent rather awkwardly so as to lower her naked breasts towards her brother's face. His mouth and her nipple found each other, and he began to suck, as well. The room was silent. Helen had a clear view of David's cock sliding in and out of Angie's mouth. Angie looked at Helen. Her beautiful eyes seemed to smile. David sucked on Helen's large pink nipple in the same rhythm as Angie was sucking his cock, so that for an insane moment it seemed to Helen that Angie was somehow sucking on her breast all the way through David's body. Now Helen could not stop herself. With none of Angie's grace, she shifted so as to prop herself on the bed with one hand, keep her tit in David's mouth, and with her free hand ruck up her own skirt and push her hand down inside her knickers. She was sopping wet. She frigged her clitoris, hard and fast. She needed this too much to be subtle or gentle now. Angie's eyes were smiling even more. Helen felt herself tipping towards climax, breathed heavily, reminded herself not to yell out as she so often did. It hit her; her body tensed and twitched; her own juice flowed over her fingers. Her first orgasm since the car accident. David must have felt her climax through her body and it sent him over the edge too. He gave one last suck, then opened his mouth and breathed "Yes, yes, oh fuck yes." His body shuddered and Helen saw his cock throb in Angie's mouth, where her full lips were sealed around his glans. "Oh yes, yes ..." he gasped again hoarsely.

David's first words in a month were orgasmic gasps, with his sister's nipple dangling in his mouth while he ejaculated into the mouth of a prostitute. He needs to talk, Dr Sandhu had said. She had thought outside the box. It had worked.

Angie withdrew her mouth from David's still-swollen cock very carefully, keeping her lips sealed. She rolled her eyes comically and made great play of ostentatiously swallowing, then opened her mouth wide. "All gone, see? The best way of not leaving any trace." She took a small bottle of mouthwash from her bag, rinsed, gargled and spat in the basin. "Guys, I've got tissues and wet wipes if you want them." She pulled her top back up to cover her breasts, straightened her skirt, took a wet wipe, cleaned David's cock. She offered the packet to Helen. "For your fingers, babe." Helen, light-headed, cleaned her fingers, pulled her bra back up, buttoned her blouse. David pulled his trousers up, sat up, looked at Helen.