Chp. 7
When Don got Flora home he carried her into the house. She probably could've walked herself in, but Don liked carrying her. He liked feeling how light she felt in his arms. He liked feeling her against him, her arms around his neck, her head against his chest, her hair brushing his face. He liked feeling needed by her. And Flora let him carry her, without a word.
He took her back to his bedroom, and laid her down on his bed.
Flora looked at him quizzically, but didn't say anything.
"I want to keep an eye on you," he explained. "A kick to the stomach can do serious damage. Especially if you're not prepared for it. You know, Houdini was killed..."
"I was cumming," Flora interrupted.
Don looked confused.
"I was just about to cum when that fuck-ass kicked me, so I was pretty clenched up. You know?" she explained. "Plus, I think I saw him out of the corner of my eye. I was expecting something like that."
The idea that Flora was doing all that and keeping an eye on Richie, hadn't occurred to him, but he wasn't surprised to hear it. "Then why..." Don started. "I'm sorry, never mind. We'll talk about it later." He took a deep breath. "For now, just get some rest. This is a king sized bed, so there's plenty of room for you to lay on this side with me way over there."
Flora coughed and then grabbed her sides, her face contorted with pain.
"Are you OK?" he asked with concern.
"Yeah," she said after a pause. "It only hurts when I move, or breathe." Her voice and face were weary.
"Get some rest." Don said softly. "I'll take you to the doctor tomorrow."
"No doc..." Flora tried to protest.
Don held up a hand to stop her. "You don't get a say, after you snuck out."
Flora pouted, but accepted Don's decision.
He looked down and noticed that her long socks were dirty. The knees were stained green and brown, and there were bits of grass all over them. "Let's get you cleaned up a little." Without even thinking about it he reached over and took her socks off, pushing against the soft skin of her thighs to get his fingers under them, sliding his fingers down the inside of her legs down to her calves, pulling the socks off her small feet. Flora just watched him, saying nothing.
Her phone fell onto the bed as he pulled one sock off. Don picked it up. "Did you call Richie with this?" he asked. Flora nodded. Don turned the phone off and set it down. "Leave it off until I can get you a new number."
Flora nodded again. Don noticed that her baby blue shirt had grass on it as well, and there were some blood stains from the scratches caused by Richie's boot. "Let's take this off too," he said, reaching forward. His fingers slid under her top at her sides and he pulled it gently over her head, cognizant of her bruises and soreness. "I'll try to get the blood out," he told her.
"Don't," she said. "Throw it away. I'm never wearing that thing again."
Don threw it over his shoulder onto the floor. "Done," he smiled.
They stared at each other for a few seconds without saying anything. Don had just undressed Flora in his bed, where she was now laying completely naked in front of him. It hadn't been a sensual act, just something that needed doing. After the evening's activities, it was comparably innocuous. It wasn't even the first time she'd been naked in front of him. But as they looked at each other, both churning with confused emotions and dissipating adrenalin, they started to realize what had just happened, and what it might mean, if they let it.
Don finally broke the silence. "I'll go get a warm washcloth so you can... clean up."
He covered her with the blanket and went to the bathroom. It took several minutes for the water to warm up. When he returned, Flora hadn't moved. She lay there looking at him with that same enigmatic expression that was and wasn't a smile. He gently wiped the residue of cum, spit, smeared mascara, and tears from her face as she silently watched him. The bruise on her cheek and the coloring around her eye reappeared as he wiped away her makeup. "Does that feel better?" he asked when he was done.
"Yes, Don."
"You should do the rest," he told her. "I'll go ring this out and warm it up."
When he returned he pulled the blanket off of her revealing her small, tight naked body again. His eyes roamed up and down her flesh. He noticed her nipples were hard. He held out the warm washcloth for her. "Do you need help sitting up?" he asked.
"Will you do it, Don? Please?" she asked. There was a pained anxiousness on her face and in her voice.
Don hesitated, but then said, "Sure." He gently wiped off the front of her thighs, cleaning mud, grass, and chum from the ravens' tattooed feathers, then the outside of her legs. To do more, he'd have to open her legs. He paused, hoping that she would do it for him. When she didn't, he put his hands under her knees and pulled her legs open. One of her dangling pussy lips flapped as it came free from whatever it had been stuck to.
Flora didn't move or speak. She just watched Don. He gently wiped the dried and sticky cum from her inner thighs. He stopped though when he got to her pussy. He paused. "Do you want me to..." he just sort of gestured at her pussy.
"Please, Don?"
He took a deep breath. "OK." He wiped off her mound first, starting on her stomach and working down between her legs. Finally, Don wiped Flora's pussy lips clean, taking several gentle swipes, up and down. Flora didn't react, no lewd comments, no alluring facial expressions, no moans, no wiggles. She just...looked at him, at his face.
Don was somewhat unnerved by her compliance and lack of expected reactions, namely the come-ons. What he was doing was pretty tame stuff after everything she'd done earlier. It had no need at all to be sexualized, but that had never stopped her before. She'd never passed up the slightest chance to flirt, tease, or seduce him. Coupled with her enigmatic expression, Don was starting to worry about her mental state.
"Are you OK?" he asked as he finished up. "You're unusually quiet." He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.
"I'm OK, Don." She gave him a reassuring smile. "You miss it don't you?"
"What?"
"The sexy shit," she clarified.
"I wouldn't say I miss it," Don replied.
"You wouldn't," she said gently.
He continued to look at her, but she didn't say anything else. "I'll be right back," he said, holding up the washcloth as an explanation.
He knelt next to the bed when he returned. "I need to get...the stuff...off your back...parts, so I'm going to roll you onto your side, OK?"
"OK, Don." Flora didn't even comment about 'back parts'.
He slid a hand under her shoulder and ass and rolled her over as gently as he could. Flora winced, but didn't complain. He proceeded to wipe off the back of her thighs and her ass cheeks. He'd fantasized and dreamt about having his hands on her exquisite, opulent ass in many different ways and contexts, but never like this. He tucked some fingers into her crack and pulled her ass open. It was his first full view of her soft pink rosebud. He wiped it clean, then rolled her gently onto her back.
"OK?" he asked.
"Yes, Don."
