Ruth felt much better after her orgasm. The feeling lasted for days—her head felt clearer, she felt more relaxed and did not feel disappointed when it was Karen who came to wash her for the next few days. Instead of worrying about her sexual frustration she concentrated on moving her right hand and got Karen to position her so she could see it. Karen complimented her on her progress.
It was a Friday morning; her mother had fed her and moved her so she could see her right hand before going off shopping. Ruth was practising and had finally managed to make her thumb and forefinger touch when she heard her morning carer arrive. She paid little attention, so excited was she by her success. It proved to be Bob who slowly came into her room with a nervous and quiet, "Hallo Ruth."
Julie, Bob's supervisor, had been quite puzzled by Bob's reluctance to go to Ruth. "But you've been there before. Lovely girl. What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing. It's just not convenient and..."
It was a nonsense excuse and Julie knew it and sent Bob on his way. She looked at the closed door with a puzzled expression. She asked Karen if there was any problem with Ruth? There wasn't. She asked if there was anything to worry Bob? No, there wasn't.
"Though," said Karen, "Ruth does ask after him. Perhaps she's a bit sweet on him!"
They laughed. But Julie asked Karen to check.
Bob had not been looking forward to seeing Ruth again. He could not understand what he had done, why he had done what he had at his last visit.
"Look Bob, look at what I can do!" said an excited Ruth.
Bob watched the slow moving of finger and thumb—a trivial action to him but to Ruth a milestone reached. He began to run through the morning tasks.
As he readied the bowl of hot water for Ruth's bed bath, Ruth who was now lying on her back, said, "Are you going to help me like you did last week, Bob?"
It was what he had been dreading, a reminder of what he had done and worse a request to repeat, "No, no that was a mistake—not appropriate at all."
"But I liked it," said Ruth in a peevish voice. She put on a sulky expression—that was something she could do.
In reality Ruth was not sulking at all. Her confidence in her power over Bob was strong. She did not understand it but he seemed to be hers to command by thought. "Bob," she thought, "wouldn't it be annoying if you splashed yourself whilst washing me and got your clothes wet. If you took them off like you took your shirt off last week you wouldn't get them wet."
To her delight he promptly pulled his shirt off.
"Better make sure I don't get wet." He was instantly cross about using that word. He blushed—he didn't want to remind Ruth of last week. The strangeness of removing his shirt did not occur to him.
Down came his shorts and pants and off with socks and trainers. Ruth couldn't see below his chest, as she wasn't in the right position—annoying.
"Can you turn me so I can see my right hand again, please Bob." Gently he moved her and there, beyond her hand were his naked loins. A tight bottom—very nice—and his sweet little penis and balls hanging, no not hanging but swinging as he moved, in their frame of fair curls. Ruth's tongue slipped across her lips as she stared at this novel sight. She would really have liked to cup it in her hands, feel its softness and play. She imagined herself lifting it up, pulling the corrugated skin of Bob's ball sack, peeling his penis and exposing the head she could just see hiding in its sheath of wrinkled skin. Of course it would be rather fun to watch it grow.
Bob worked steadily washing Ruth's body. He was not very talkative. Ruth let him be until he had dried her.
"There—all done," he said.
"I need my body lotion to keep my skin supple. You forgot the best bit didn't you!"
Bob winced but picked up the bottle. He began to rub the lotion in. He was keeping his mind under tight control, thinking about football, shopping, his financial worries—anything but this helpless, yet naughty, girl he was massaging with slippery lotion. It was not easy and even without Ruth's mental help he lost. His fingers touched her breasts and his penis twitched.
"Don't forget to rub the lotion in my nipples, Bob, I wouldn't want them to crack."
"Hardly likely," Bob said crossly. He knew what she was after and the thought made his penis jump again.
It was definitely lengthening. Ruth watched fascinated. As Bob's fingers rubbed lotion onto her nipples the penis rose to the horizontal. Ruth could see the motion, the bobbing motion as it rose higher in tune with Bob's heartbeat. She thought, "you are feeling excited again, you are enjoying massaging me and making me excited."
Bob seemed to relax—at least his shoulders and face relaxed and he no longer looked tense. The same could not be said for his penis. It continued its rise towards the vertical. Ruth's eyes widened as all by itself the foreskin began to retract as the head expanded, growing a darker pink as its eye aimed for the ceiling. Bob was rubbing her tummy now, his penis no longer swinging but standing firm and erect. His fingers reached her dark short hairs.
"Bob," said Ruth, "my finger and thumb."
"Yes?"
"I really think I could hold something with them now I can touch them together."
"I expect you could," his fingers rubbed the lotion into the skin over her pubic bone. He was enjoying this though he knew he shouldn't.
"Could I hold your cock?"
Bob stopped stunned, "sorry?"
"Could I try holding your cock please, it looks just the right size and shape."
Bob was puzzled, how could Ruth know what it looked like, he was very conscious it was erect, was it showing through his shorts? He looked down and got a shock—he wasn't wearing his shorts, he wasn't wearing anything. No of course he wasn't, he hadn't wanted to risk getting water on his clothes. Risk? What risk, he washed people every day. What was he thinking of? He had stopped rubbing Ruth and he just looked at her, wide eyed, unable to think what to say.
"You've a nice body, Bob, I'm so pleased you took your clothes off. It seems fair somehow as you always see me naked! Can I hold your penis? (Yes I can, she thought).
Bob picked up Ruth's right hand and brought it to his penis and held it so Ruth's forefinger and thumb were just touching it and he watched as slowly the finger and thumb closed forming a circle, a circle that held on to his penis just below its head. He took his hand away and there was Ruth's right arm held up in the air by its grasp on his cock.
"How about that, Bob, how about that!" Ruth was ever so pleased with herself, "look I'm holding on!" Momentarily she had forgotten the sex in the joy of the start of her slow return to normality.
"Oh Bob, think what it will be like when I can move my hand and arm!"
Bob could imagine, or at least could try and imagine what it must be like for Ruth, the fear, frustration and sheer pleasure in little things on her road to recovery. What he couldn't believe was here he was, completely naked and erect with a client—and he had just placed her hand on his cock.
"Bob, I want to see you come. I've never seen that. Use my hand like, like a vagina."
Was there no end to this awful experience? "No, I can't possibly."
But he could. He certainly could and that is what he found himself doing completely contrary to what he had intended. He could not understand how he was suddenly doing the opposite to what he had just said. Ruth knew. She knew the power she exerted.
Holding her wrist and hand, lotion smeared across her finger and thumb, Bob's hips began to move slowly at first pushing his penis through the ring of Ruth's finger and thumb. It was a new and graphic image fro Ruth, the vision of a penis at work. Soon he was bucking, thrusting away as his penis slipped in and out of the ring formed by Ruth's carefully held together forefinger and thumb. It was a rather ludicrous sight but to Ruth, lying there and watching, it was quite fascinating seeing Bob's erect cock working in her hand. She would have liked to have grasped it fully in her hand, to have made the requisite motion herself; she would like to have held his tight bottom, played with those balls; she would like to have done quite a lot more—not least she would quite liked to have tried oral sex—but she couldn't. It would certainly be a big thing to have in her mouth but she would like to have tried it. Not that she would have wanted him to come in her mouth. That would be gross—probably. How much came out, what did it look like, what did it taste like? So much to find out—so frustrating to be helpless.
For Bob it was pleasurable, he could let his imagination take free rein as he looked down at Ruth's helpless, naked body. He could—though part of his mind was also screaming how wrong this was.
It was indeed a rather ludicrous sight and it was certainly that and more for Karen as she opened the door at the moment Bob reached orgasm, his semen arching from his penis in a strong burst to sail across from the tip of his penis to land in the centre of Ruth's tummy. His head whipped round, as he saw out of the corner of his eye movement, and he stared aghast and open mouthed at Karen as another pulse jetted from his penis onto Ruth. She stared back equally open mouthed at the sight of a naked Bob, standing erect over Ruth with his penis jetting seminal fluid.
Bob's strangled cry of panic and terror startled Ruth, it was so unexpected because she had not heard the door open. Bob, still erect, still dribbling grabbed his clothes and fled pushing past Karen. She for her part, did not move for a few moments unable to take in what she had seen, or what she should do. She broke into action, "Ruth dear—are you all right. Karen suddenly appeared into Ruth's view and she understood what had happened. She also understood there would be no orgasm for her now. She was not pleased.
"Yes, what are you doing here?"
