His fingers grip the arms of the chair, and he tries to focus on slowing his breathing. But it doesn’t really slow down. His mind is dragging it along at breakneck speed. He realises the radio is still on, he can see the light on the dial. But there’s still silence. He considers switching it off, but decides against it. He tries to distract his thoughts, but they drift back to the radio, and to the voices. He attempts to rationalise it, to bring to mind a harmless explanation. A radio play, drifting in on strange atmospherics. The silence caused by a shift in air pressure. Just a hidden snatch of a benign entertainment, twisted by his paralysed brain into something else. He’d come, after all, to one of the most peaceful places on earth. He’d chosen it for that peace, that isolation. The chances of anything happening here were…. And yet, he can’t shift the underlying tension he now feels. In part, it is the brutal lack of compassion in the woman’s voice. Echoes of a time he’s trying. She started washing my chestcarefully avoiding the dressings and then over my back.She moved to my cock and then my balls and I had my eyes close andwishing this was a cold shower. Inevitably, my cock decided all on itsown to react and began to stiffen in her hands. She grinned, gave me aquick peck on the lips and turned her attention to my bum. She washedeach cheek in turn giving each a kiss before moving the cloth slowly upand down my crack and suddenly I felt a finger gently rubbing me backthere. This was something very new for me and I started to turn roundand she said very firmly, ‘Don’t turn round. Stay where you are.’ Herother hand came round and started to stroke my cock which by this timewas pointing true north. She continued to rub her soapy finger around myrosebud, still managing to stroke my cock. I could feel her tits upagainst my back and could also feel her cock against the back of mythighs.The sum total of these feelings was literally making me weak at theknees. This.
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