Unwelcome Care

'I know I'm a stroppy cow, but I know which side my bread is buttered, and at the moment it's you that's buttering it.'

They got through the day with no problems, Anne's use of the voice recognition programme working well and enabling her to get through something near a normal day's work. When it came to bedtime again he combed her hair, cleaned her teeth and then took off her clothes, all except her bra. He went to put on a pair of his underpants for her, but she stopped him.

'Don't bother. I had to get out for a pee last night and it was a hell of a struggle to get them off and on - it'll be simpler to go without.'

So when he slid into bed beside her, she was naked except for her bra. It was odd the difference it seemed to make. He hadn't touched her the night before, there was no reason why he should touch her tonight, but the knowledge that her sex was unprotected in any way made him far more aware of her presence. He kept well away from her, which was just as well as his penis was well aroused. Finally he managed to focus his mind on work instead of thinking about the warm, inviting body next to him, and he went to sleep.

Next morning they went through the same routine of breakfast and showering until he was about to wash between her legs.

'Peter, little as I want your hands interfering with me, I fear that I need a slightly more thorough washing down there. If not, I guess I'll get a bit mucky, and I doubt you'll want to share your bed with a woman with a smelly chuff. If you could just delve inside a bit more, that should do the trick.'

'No, unwashed pussy somehow doesn't appeal. I gather that Lord Nelson used to write to Emma Hamilton telling her not to wash when he was due to return from a voyage, but it's not something I'd much want to experience. Anyway, I guess I know what the geography is like, so I'll do what I can. It might be easier if you put one foot up on the seat, then I'll be able to see where I am without too much groping.'

The shower was fitted with a fold down seat, and Anne lifted her foot and rested it there. As the seat was quite high, this meant her vulva was spread wide, and when Peter bent down he could see the opened outer lips and the pink inners just parted a little. With the soapy flannel he used one finger to slide down the grooves either side between the inner and outer, then he cautiously pressed against her pussy lips, which parted a little more so that he could enter enough to wash the edge of the slit. Finally he slid the finger up over the hood of her clitoris, and then removed it.

'Is that OK?'

'Yes, thank you, that should keep me hygienic.'

He noticed that her voice sounded slightly shaky, and when he dried her he realised that her nipples were quite hard. He tried to imagine what it would be like if the position was reversed and it she who was washing his genitals, and realised that he would have a monster erection, so he guessed that what he had done to her would certainly affect her in some sense, though whether it would be pleasurable or disgusting, he couldn't imagine. Considering her dislike of him, probably the latter. When he went to dress her she told him not to bother with a bra.

'Just let 'em swing for a bit, I shan't be doing anything energetic, so they won't get over excited.'

Peter did as she said, guessing that she wanted to avoid the need for him to manipulate her breasts, and, although he had enjoyed the feel of her warm flesh, he thought it probably was for the best. However, the sight of the two luscious mounds moving under her tee shirt was some compensation, especially when she got a little chilly and her nipples thrust proudly against the thin material.

A few days passed uneventfully as they had developed a work routine where she got on with the Instruction Manual while Peter worked beside her, stopping to help her with some operations where the mouse was needed or to load the printer. After he had prepared a meal for them in the evening, they sat with a drink, talking about the contract and what they needed to do to complete it. Fortunately, the deadline date for delivery was not until after she was due to be out of plaster, which would make the final preparation and the presentation a lot easier. Suddenly, one evening she interrupted the talk.

'Do you realise what the date is?'

He looked at his watch. 'Bloody hell, it's Christmas Eve, and I haven't bought your present yet. It'll just have to be the same as last year.'

'You mean bugger all? Which, strangely, is what I got for you. Wait, I have an idea for something you might like, but we'll need to go next door to get it.'

What, now?'

'Yes, now.'

The snow had stopped and they both slipped on boots and coats and went to her house, taking care not to slip on the packed snow. She led him to the back kitchen, where her freezer was situated. Following her instructions he opened it and took out a frozen bird, together with a couple of other packs. When they returned to his house, she instructed him to open all the packs, disclosing a frozen pheasant, parsnips and brussels sprouts, not to mention a Christmas pudding, some mince pies and a big lump of Stilton cheese.

'I got that lot in for last Christmas before the bastard left with your bitch. It's been there rather longer than the books say it should, but I reckon it will be all right. I assume that you've got some decent wine to go with it.'

'I've got champagne and a decent Bourgogne, plus a Montbazillac for the pudding and the cheese. The only problem I can see is who do you think will cook it? It's way out of my league, as you might have guessed by now. Ready meals, yes, pasta perhaps, but not much beyond that.'

'We'll cook it together. My brains and your hands. For once you'll have to do exactly as I say.'

And that's just what they did. Anne stood beside him and took him through every step of the cooking, and, as a result, he produced a very edible Christmas dinner. By the time they had eaten the meal and got through several bottles of wine, they were in a pleasantly soporific state, and dozed off watching yet another Morecombe and Wise Christmas special replay. When he awoke, Peter went and made coffee, and also brought glasses of brandy. Anne had got used to drinking all her liquids through straws, but, when it came to the brandy she took a little sip and started to choke. Peter patted her back till she recovered, then he decided he would help her with it. He was sitting on the settee on her left and he put his right arm round her and offered the glass to her lips, so that she could sip it, while he drank from his own glass held in his left hand. Although he had been nursing her naked body, this action seemed much more intimate, and he felt quite affectionate towards her. After she had finished he, somewhat reluctantly, disengaged from her, and got up to tidy up the kitchen. When he moved away from her, she too felt that they had shared a moment that was a bit special.

When he had cleared up, it was time for bed and he went through the routine of preparing her for bed. When he got into bed, he was very tempted to put his arms around her, but he then thought that it would be a good idea to see how he felt about her when he was sober. She was sat up beside him, her naked breasts visible.

'Peter, I've got to thank you for making today much more fun than I would ever have expected. Last Christmas was an absolute bloody disaster, as you may well remember. I don't know about you, but I had a ham sandwich and got totally pissed, tonight I feel well fed and just ever so slightly pissed.'

'Well, I've gone a whole day without loathing you, so that must mean something. Just to make up for it, we'll have to work twice as hard for the next few days to catch up.'

'How nice. Oh, bloody hell, do you want some really exciting news?'

'Go on, this sounds ominous.'

'I'll start the curse tomorrow, so I'm afraid you'll have an extra bit of pussy groping to do.'

'Oh God, what fun. Still if today is what Pre Menstrual Stress does for you, it could be worse.'

He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, then turned away from her and lay down to sleep. He didn't sleep immediately, mulling over the day, and how their relationship seemed to be changing subtly. He did not find her any less objectionable, or did he - well, perhaps slightly less, but then he rationalised that their physical contact was undoubtedly clouding his judgement. Had he but known it, she was going through the same thought process. While in theory his hands interfering with her body was revolting, in fact when he washed her breasts she felt her nipples responding, and when he slid the flannel across her vulva and over the shield of her clitoris, the feeling of revulsion was tempered by an electric sexual response. Still, now he will have to put a tampon in her vagina, that should destroy any sexual feelings, especially when he has to take it out, soaked in blood. With those somewhat disturbed thoughts their Christmas day memories soon faded in sleep.

Next day started as normal till he started to prepare her for the day in the bathroom and he remembered the imminent period.

'You'd better tell me all about what I've got to do. Julie kept the curse to herself, so, though I obviously understand what's going on inside you, I only have a vague idea of the mechanics of what you do and the timing and so on.'

'It's not too difficult, even for a man to understand. If you look in my bag you'll see a packet of tampons. Got it? Well, wash me first and then you can put one in for me. Luckily for us both I am absolutely regular, and I bleed for four days. I change the tampon three times the first day, then twice for the next three, so now you know how much you've got to put up with. I don't bleed a tremendous amount and I don't leak, so not too messy then. I'll show you what to do as we go along.'

Peter washed her as usual, though, remembering the feelings he had had about her the night before, he was careful to be as quick as possible when washing her breasts and her vulva, but, even so, he felt a little shudder in her body as he washed over her clitoris. When he had dried her he moved on to the next activity - the tampon insertion.

'Right, take a tampon out of its packet and have a look at it. See it's got one tube inside another. You hold the big tube and push it up inside me and, when it's right in, you push the small tube up inside and that frees the tampon. Then you pull the tubes out over the string, and that's it. Right, I'll put one foot on the seat to give you a bigger target.'

She stood on one leg with her vulva spread wide and Peter took the tampon as directed and went to insert it.

'Sorry, two more details. First, and I expect you'll have guessed this, the vagina is angled backwards, about the same angle as an erect penis if you can remember what that looks like. And second, and I hate saying this, you'll need to spread my vagina lips open with your spare hand. Go on, go for it. I'll tell you when it's right inside.'

Peter looked at her spread vulva and her vagina lips protruding slightly as a result of how she was standing. He decided that the obvious way to do the job was to put his palm on her pubis and place his first and second fingers in the grooves between her inner and outer lips. The he opened them and saw her inner lips part, exposing the dark pink of her vagina, which glistened slightly. He felt her shudder as his hand probed her sex, and he heard her sharp intake of breath, and he guessed that she was really hating this, but he carried on and then, following her directions found that the tampon slid in easily, till she told him it was fully home, then he pushed in the small tube inside the large and found he could withdraw both tubes, leaving her with the white string protruding. She had asked him to put on a pair of knickers in case of any untoward blood loss, so this he did.

'Thanks, Peter.' Her voice was a bit unsteady. Much as she hated being interfered with in this intimate way, particularly by someone she so disliked, his touch on her secret flesh had an effect that she was still denying even to herself. She couldn't possibly enjoy being touched there...could she?

The day was interrupted a couple of times while he had to help her when she needed to pee, as she couldn't manage her knickers, and later she told him it was time to change her tampon. Because the house, like her own, was not on main drainage but had a septic tank, tampons could not be flushed away as normal. He had remembered that from Julie and had put a liner in the bathroom pedal bin, ready to accept the used tampon.

'It's going to be easier if you hitch my skirt right up out of the way, in case of accident, and if you get the bidet warm, you can give me a quick spray to clean up.'

Peter did as he was told, hitching her skirt up high so that she could tuck it under her arms. Then he took off her knickers and, while she squatted over the toilet bowl he cautiously took hold of the tampon string and gave a steady pull to withdraw it. He carefully dropped the bloodstained fabric into the pedal bin, then helped her to the bidet. This had a vertical spray and he had checked the water temperature in advance and, when she was in place over it he turned it on so that it sprayed over her vulva and, with her legs widespread, into the opening of her vagina. When she said enough, he turned it off, then towelled her gently. After that it was a repeat of the tampon insertion, this time quicker and smoother than before.

This routine continued for the duration of her period, and became a slick operation for him. For her, there was still the disgust at having to rely on him, but with the realisation that she was experiencing a slight feeling of pleasurable anticipation before he touched her body.

Now the snow had stopped and a slight thaw had set in. One day when they were sitting with a post-lunch coffee, the phone rang. It was the local doctor. He apologised for not having rung before, but said that now he might be able to get them some help. The roads were clearing and, if Peter could get Anne to the little local hospital, they would admit her and look after her till she was out of plaster, and would they ring back and confirm if they wanted to take up the offer.

'It's up to you' said Peter. 'I'll take you in if you like, on the other hand we seem to be managing pretty well and at least you can do some useful work while you are here. We are just about on target to meet the contract, if I lose your input for a month, we could be in big trouble.'

'Well, if you can stand it, I might as well stay here. After all, in hospital I'd get messed around by lord knows how many different people. At least I've got you trained, and, as you say, there's always the money to think of, which helps to alleviate any feelings of nausea I might get at having you groping me.'

'Gracefully put, as always. OK, I'll ring and tell him not to bother. But just don't complain if you find my attentions just too disgusting. You're stuck with me now.'

The next few days passed with no problems. Anne had finished her period, and Peter had coped perfectly well with the business of insertion of tampons, then the disposal of the blood soaked finished product. Then, out of the blue, am English couple with whom they were acquainted rang to say that they had heard via the grapevine of Anne's problems, and invited her for supper. She pointed out that she couldn't do a lot without her minder, so Peter was invited as well. Normally they would not have been invited together, as their relationship and mutual dislike was well known. However, once they agreed to go, she suddenly realized that she would need dressing a little more tidily than she had been since her accident.

Peter accompanied her to her house and opened up her wardrobe so that she could chose something appropriate. She picked out a dress made of a woollen knit material which should be fairly warm, as the weather was still chilly. Back in Peter's house, he helped her to undress before dressing to go out. She asked him to put a bra on for her, which he did, again making her flinch slightly as he lifted her breasts into place. Then he put on a pair of knickers for her, and a pair of stockings, which gave a very pleasurable feel as he slid his hands up her shapely thighs. Then he put on the dress, and she stood in front of the mirror.

'Oh God, this is a disaster. Look at the way the damn thing shows off all the bra material, not to mention the knicker elastic line. I must have put on weight since I last wore this, it used to look all right.'

'Shows my cooking has something going for it, if it's only calories. Anyway, it's a bit late to start trying other dresses.'

'I can't go like this. And I doubt I could get these plasters in the sleeves of my other dresses.' she wailed.

'Other option is to take off your undies and go commando.'

'Don't be disgusting. Do you think I dare - oh hell, let's try.'

He pulled the dress off, then removed her bra and knickers, and refitted the dress. It looked superb, clinging to her body like a second skin, outlining the roundness of her firm breasts, her wide hips and her softly rounded belly, and just hinting at her pubic mound. He had dressed her away from the mirror, and now he brushed her hair for her and applied just a touch of colour to her lips - a technique that Julie had taught him. Then he slipped a shawl round her shoulders and put on her shoes, medium height heels which enhanced the look of her ankles, before finally letting her look in the full length mirror.

'Bloody hell, I hope the lighting isn't too bright, I look just a bit overexposed. Suppose it's all right, but I feel what I am - naked underneath. Oh well, let's go, and see what effect I have on Gordon, he's a randy sod.'

'You look pretty good, and, by the way, your bum looks great in this. Quite pinchable really.'

'Don't you dare, or I'll clout you with one of my plasters.'

They drove to their friends' house, and in the short time betweenhttps://yourlisten.com/wahayoko

them getting out of the car and entering the house, the chill air had struck home. Anne was only wearing the shawl to protect her, and the effect on her breasts was immediate. She hadn't noticed, but Peter and Gordon and his wife Doreen quickly saw that her nipples had hardened and were sticking out proudly through the clinging material of the dress. Nothing was said and it wasn't till she went to the bathroom that she realised just what had happened. Her first reaction was of embarrassment, then she thought what the hell, and rubbed them with her plaster to make them stand out even more.

The dinner passed off well, with Peter feeding her as usual till Doreen offered to take over, pointing out that she had experience of feeding two children and, in any case, it would be nice for him to have a meal without having to remember Anne with each mouthful. As they were chatting after the meal, Peter told them that he would have to go to Paris during the next week to make the first delivery of trial discs for the new programme.

'There's really no need for both of us to go, but obviously Anne can't stay on her own, so she'll come with me. We'll go on the TGV and stay overnight at a hotel near the client's office.'

'Wait a minute' said Doreen 'if there's no need for Anne to go for the handover, why doesn't she come and stay with us? I'll be only too happy to look after her for a couple of days. What do you think?'

It was such an obvious answer that it was agreed that Peter would drop Anne off on his way to the station and pick her up on the way back. This arrangement worked perfectly, the discs were handed over with accompanying paperwork which was to the client's satisfaction, and the next night Peter and Anne were back home. They were sitting with a late drink, and, after telling Anne the details of the contract work, he asked her how her stopover had gone.

Unwelcome Care

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