‘Switch feet’ he tells me. He repeats the same process over again on my other leg.‘Turn around, put your hands on the wall.’He started at my s...oulders, piling my hair on top of my head. He worked the soft washcloth down my arms, across my shoulders and down my back. I felt the horror of the night before melt away while he washed me. Moving in slow circles he scrubbed me clean.Reaching around me he washed my stomach gently. He reached my breasts and I felt my pussy getting tingle when he rubbed. "I have to do it," she said, taking a deep breath. "Don't have a choice."I waited, admiring her fine body and handsome face. She was probably about ten years older than me, perhaps ten stone and well-proportioned with a round bottom and high breasts. Her clothes were of good cloth and well tailored with much attention to trim and details. Her shoes were high and soft, obviously expensive."I don't have a choice," she said again.Still I waited, having figured out that I had almost no skills at. More

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