I wonder if my bisexuality would ever have been revived if it hadn't been for Evie. I'd never really acknowledged my lesbian tendencies, despite one very erotic vacation experience when I was younger, and maybe they would just have remained dormant if not for her. So I have a lot to thank her for.
It all started with a knock at our front door late one rainy night when Steve and I were watching TV together with a glass of wine. A strikingly beautiful young woman was on our doorstep in a state of some distress. She was in an evening gown that was torn and dirty, holding muddy high heels in her hand. Blood and makeup streaked her cheeks, and there was blood down one side of her expensive dress where it was ripped open. It looked as if she had been scratched by thorns on her arms and legs. She was shaky, soaking wet and crying.
"I've been in an accident... my car." She said between sobs, waving her hand vaguely behind her towards the road which was half a mile away across the fields. Her long, fair hair was wet from the rain, plastered to the side of her pretty features. We soon realized she was also pretty drunk.
We brought her inside and my husband poured her a brandy while she haltingly told her story. She sobbed as she explained how she got lost driving home from a fund-raising event, and had skidded into a ditch. She saw the lights of our house and had scrambled through a hedge to make her way over to us, ignoring the thistles and brambles along the way. She had snagged her pretty dress and fallen, somehow ripping the white faux silk all the way up to her hip, revealing a muscled thigh that was streaked with blood and dirt. More worryingly she was bleeding from her left side underneath her arm where she had suffered an impact in the crash. I couldn't tell if there might be a risk of internal injury, but my experience as a nurse told me she was mostly just in shock.
"I think you're going to be OK." I said, "We can help you. Show me where it hurts"
She told us her name was Evie. She was stunningly pretty, with dark eyes like a Spanish flamenco dancer. When she smiled gratefully at me, her gorgeous cupid's bow lips parted to reveal an attractive row of perfect white teeth. At least they seemed to be undamaged, I thought. Despite myself I couldn't help musing that the whole effect of her disheveled appearance, streaked makeup and wet hair was incredibly sexy. Her ripped dress showed off her gorgeous thigh, and it was hard to miss how much soft boob flesh was exposed every time she moved her arm, where one braless breast was partially out of her dress. Shivering with shock or with cold, she was clearly more than a little inebriated. We offered to take her home or even to the hospital but she seemed too upset to think clearly or even say where she lived. She was obviously in shock and needed to be taken care of.
"Please don't call the police." Evie said, her cheeks streaked with tears and mascara. "I probably wouldn't pass a breathalyzer..."
"Let's get you cleaned up." My husband said with a worried glance at me "and let Trudi take a look at those cuts."
I took her up to the bathroom and started running a bath for her. She said she was terribly thirsty and asked for a beer, but I called for Steve to bring her a glass of water instead while I unzipped the back of her dress for her. She sat on the side of the bathtub and shrugged the top down so it fell to her waist, making me catch my breath. She had the most gorgeous breasts I think I have ever seen. Firm and perfectly shaped with small, rosy nipples. She seemed proud to show them off judging by the way she undressed so willingly. Either that or she was too drunk to care.
I started to have some difficulty remaining professional. I tried to think of myself as just her emergency room nurse, but to my surprise I was experiencing a surging sensation of sexual arousal that flooded through me like a warm river, all the way down to my groin. I had occasionally dreamed about experimenting with other girls when I was single, but thought I had put all that behind me when I got married. But now the intimacy of taking care of such an attractive young girl was firing up the sex neurons in my brain and turning me into a hot mess.
"Lift up your arm and let me take a look at where this blood is coming from." I said.
When she lifted her beautiful, dark eyes -- wet with tears -- to look at me gratefully I felt another twinge of desire welling up deep in my core. "Turn this way a bit." I instructed, trying not to fixate on the curves of her gorgeous body.
There was a bruise on her ribcage and a cut near the side of her left breast to which I applied a swab of alcohol cleaner, causing her to wince. Her pretty nipples stood erect, making her grapefruit-sized breasts look even more fascinatingly beautiful.
My hand trembled slightly as I gently swabbed the side of her plump breast with a warm washcloth. I went quite close to her erect nipple just to be sure. I envied the way her perky boobs sat high and firm on her chest, yet yielded so softly to the alcohol pad I used to sterilize the abrasion. Luckily the cut wasn't deep, and the scrape wasn't too bad once I got it cleaned it up. She might have cracked a rib but fortunately she wasn't losing any more blood. When Steve walked in with the glass of water, she took it gratefully, not making any attempt to cover herself. She smiled pleasantly at him -- dropping her pretty eyelashes rather flirtatiously I thought -- before he walked out again. I'm sure he enjoyed getting an eyeful of her nice boobs.
