Today Terence rested, waited upon and, he felt, a little fussed-over by his pretty young companion. Still, they way he as feeling it was pleasant to be cosseted and he did not complain. The wound stung evilly and his whole arm throbbed somewhat. He drifted in and out of sleep, dozing for half an hour at a time. As the afternoon was disappearing into a darkening twilight he awoke fully, and saw Joanna re-entering the room. She smiled at him, then crossed her arms and put on a determined look. "Terence, you sweated much with your wound and the exertions of yester-eve. You need a bath!"
He looked at her, opening his mouth to protest, but then thought it over. He was indeed sticky with sweat from the fight and the nightmare ride. It would feel good to be clean again. He nodded his assent. Joanna disappeared yet again and returned a few minutes later carrying the bathtub between herself and Rosie. The wench gave Terence a sidelong glance and then sneaked a conspiratorial smile at Joanna, who ignored the look as she concentrated on positioning the tub to her satisfaction. The two women left the room, but soon returned each carrying large pitchers of hot water, and accompanied by a boy carrying a third pitcher. These were emptied into the tub, and steam began to rise. All three departed, and a few minutes later came back with more pitchers whose contents were also dumped into the tub. Joanna nodded her satisfaction, and said something to the other two, too low for Terence to catch. They left.
"Now!" Joanna's expression was strange, Terence thought, as she rolled up her sleeves. "Let me help you Terence."
He began to rise from the bed, but as he stood he felt suddenly unsteady and swayed a little. Joanna was ready with a steadying arm below his shoulders. She led him towards the tub, supporting him as he stepped in, and bent down as he settled into it. "Good", he heard her say. The water was hot, but not too hot. Soothing and relaxing. He closed his eyes and leaned back. He heard a little splash, then felt hands rubbing soap over his chest and forearms. "Ahh ...". That felt so good! He sighed, and drifted half asleep as Joanna spent a long time gently working his soapy chest and upper belly, almost massaging him. If he had opened his eyes he would have seen her serene and satisfied smile as she tended to him thus.
"Wake up Terence dear." The words jolted him from his drowsy state, and he looked at the girl with questioning eyes. "Lean forward". She soaped his back, her hands moving in long caresses, sometimes her fingers digging deep into the over-tightened muscles, working away the tension. Terence groaned happily when she found those knots and worked them. After some while she washed his upper arms, very careful around the wound, which she did not touch but left beneath the makeshift bandage.
"Can you stand now? I need to wash you properly." He smiled, wanting more of this attention. It was a bliss to be in the hands of this pretty young woman! As he arose from the water, pushing up on the sides of the tub with his one good arm, she stood close, ready with a hand should it be needed. He stood steadily, and after she had watched him a moment to be sure he was not about to collapse, she bent down to the tub and lathered her hand, soaping and cleaning his thighs. When that was finished her hands glided over his balls, then cradled them. She lifted them as if weighing his sac which dangled loose from the heat of the bath, and now his cock began to stiffen. Joanna's gaze rose to his face, held him in an intense stare, her smile partially eclipsed by a mixture of desire and mischief. Her eyebrows rose as her fingers slid up to grasp the shaft, working the quickly stiffening rod in her soapy grip. She watched his expression of delight, watching with a serious concentration now, her smile gone. She seemed to be gauging him. As Terence started to moan and move his hips a little, thrusting into her hand on each down-stroke, she began to work him harder. Then, as she saw his expression evidence the approach of his climax she stopped suddenly. His eyes widened, and he spoke, the words jerked from him in gasps, "Joanna, don't stop!"
She chuckled throatily. "Don't stop!" she mimicked. Then her voice pitched low. "Terence dear man, if you want that reward you must humour me a little."
Terence saw the strange look on her face as she uttered those words. It was measuring, almost predatory. He started an angry response, but stopped before half a word had escaped his lips. The look he returned to her was also measuring, but hungry too. He needed release, he wanted the attention of her expert hand, or better yet her mouth, or to be buried in her sex, fucking himself and her into ecstasy. Yet he could see that at this moment she was not ready to bend to his whim. And he did not have the strength right now to fight, he still felt weakened. He swallowed the words unsaid and returned, as calmly as he could manage, but also betraying a degree of curiosity he had not intended, "Humour you? How so girl?"
Her face made a little grimace. "No, don't call me 'girl'! That's
not
