When the wet cloth hit between my shoulders and began to move in ever increasing circles I decided that maybe this wasn’t too bad. When she washed my neck and arms, then moved down to wash my waist and hips, I relaxed, beginning to enjoy the warmth of the water. As she kept dipping the cloth back in the basin and adding more soap I finally conceded it felt good to have the sweat washed away. I was also relieved that I had my body’s reaction to her under control until she reached my ass.
Immediately every muscle tensed up again, but she skirted past it and began to wash the backs of my thighs. Continuing on to my calves, ankles and even the soles of my feet. When she paused I smiled to myself. She must have decided she wasn’t up to the task of washing my ass. I relaxed, relieved I’d made it through the sponge bath without doing anything to embarrass myself.
When the cloth suddenly slapped down on one ass cheek my body instantly turned to stone under her touch. My heart began to pound frantically, heavily in my chest, my breathing loud and choppy as I fought to get air into my lungs. Images of a different time and place began to play out in my head and I ground my teeth together trying not to let the past merge with the present and cause me to react in a way I’d be unable to hide from Lyla.
The cloth swept over each cheek, slowly smoothly and I thought for a brief moment I might survive this torture without revealing my turmoil to her. That was, until she parted my ass cheeks and swiped the cloth over my anus.
“No!” I cried out, rolling onto my back, my chest heaving as the familiar wave of panic seized me. The memories began to crash over me again, building up momentum until I thought I would scream from it all. My mouth fell open, my breathing loud and tortured and my eyes wide, so wide I felt sure they were bugging out of my head. I gasped, the sound more like a wheeze, my hands fisting by my sides and through it all, through my mammoth loss of control, Lyla watched me.
Everything I dreaded and all that I feared was reflected in her wide blue eyes. Her lips parted and I thought I saw shock although I was too busy focusing on the tsunami of emotions flooding me right now to read her expression.
Fighting to contain the tremors taking over my body I closed my eyes not wanting to see what looked like growing horror on her face. Fuck, did she know? Had she somehow worked out my shameful secret? Would she pity me or feel disgust towards me? She should feel those things. I deserved them. I was worthy of them. I was everything my father ever accused me of being.
I waited, tense, sure she would leave me, now that she’d learnt the truth. Her eyes stayed locked on mine for what felt like a lifetime and I waited, waited to see what she would do or say next. Finally her expression cleared and a smile hovered on her lips.
“You men and your asses. You want to go anal but you get all bent out of shape if anyone goes even remotely close to yours.” She winked like the whole thing was some big joke but I wasn’t convinced. I was sure she knew my secret or had a pretty good idea what it was. Just as I suspected she was trying to play down the whole thing.
Still, like a person drowning who had just been thrown a lifeline I latched onto her attempt to deflect my panic. “Are you done? I’m tired. I want to sleep.” I snapped.
Anger flashed in her eyes. “I need to do the front of you now.” She pointed out and I silently groaned.
Clenching my teeth so hard I was surprised I didn’t break them, I tried to lie quietly while she washed my chest and stomach. She paused and my eyes shot to hers, just in time to see colour bloom in her cheeks and I knew with agonising clarity where she was going next with that damn cloth.
“Don’t.” I tried to stop her but the warm, wet washer landed over my dick with an audible wack. Before I had time to recover from that, her hand was on it and she began to slide the cloth up and down and over my balls.
Frantically I tried to think of disgusting foods, anything to stop my cock responding to her touch but sick or not, the damn thing betrayed me and started to harden.
I closed my eyes not wanting to see her reaction to my hard on but surprisingly she didn’t stop washing me. She simply wrapped the cloth around my rigid flesh and began to rub up and down. It was like an abrasive kind of hand job with the fabric of the washer providing a rough friction I was enjoying way to fucking much.
Neither of us spoke. I kept my eyes closed as an endless reel of all things disgusting filled my head in a desperate effort to kill my hard on, and through it all Lyla seemed hell bent on scrubbing away at me, taking the time to wash carefully around each of my piercings. Never in all my life did I wish a woman’s hands would just get the hell off my cock and move to a less sexually stimulating zone, than I did now.
When finally she moved on and continued down my legs in long sweeps from thigh to ankle I dragged in a shaky sigh of relief and when the wash cloth landed back in the bowl with enough force to splash a few drops of water out and over me, my eyes shot open, meeting hers. She was done. I’d survived the sponge bath: just.
Again, Lyla’s eyes met mine before sweeping down my body until they landed on my dick. The bloody thing reacted to her looking at it by bobbing as if trying to get her attention. It worked obviously because her eyes shifted to follow the movement and I tensed, unsure what she would do next.
For a brief moment when her focus returned to the bowl of water I thought she was going to stop torturing me and go, but she simply shifted it to the bedside cupboard and then reached out, one hand settling around my cock.
My reaction to her touch was instantaneous. I bucked up, my hands shooting out to wrap around hers.
“No…Lyla. Fuck…stop.” I attempted to peel her fingers off me and push her away. “Ignore the damn thing. He’s just not getting the memo that I’m sick. I’m sorry. It’s just that…you touching me…well…it’s…it’s hard to ignore.” I finally spat out.
Her blue eyes met mine. “It’s ok Shay. I know you’re sick. You’re feverish. I can feel it in the heat coming off you. I’m not doing this to try and get you to have sex with me. You’d pass out before we even got started. I just want to give you something to help you sleep until I can get out to a Pharmacy and buy you pain killers. Let me take care of this for you.”
I tensed up, my eyes searching hers although I had no idea what I was looking for. A part of me knew I should push her away, yet part of me so desperately wanted to drag her closer. This woman had me so fucked up and with the fever I couldn’t think clearly. No one could put me into a tailspin quite like Lyla and it scared me. I felt like a bottle adrift at sea with her, not knowing where I might end up.
I was dragged out of the conflict going on inside my head by lips closing around the head of my cock. Dropping tormented eyes to Lyla, I watched helplessly as she took me deep into her mouth. Breaking away from the sight of my dick disappearing inch by inch past her full lips, I raised my eyes to the ceiling. “Shit.” I groaned, incapable of uttering anything more than that single word.
Chapter Eighteen
Lyla
I don’t really know what possessed me to give Shay a blow job. Perhaps if I told myself that long enough I might even start to believe it. The truth was I wanted to do it for a couple of reasons. Part of it was for his sake. I’d put him through the sponge bath and he was a man after all. I guess washing his cock was bound to get a rise out of him: literally.
I think the other reason was I wanted to fix what I’d broken. I’d forced him to put up with a sponge bath he’d tried to stop me giving him and in the process I’d clearly caused him untold distress. Sure he’d tried to hide his reaction but he’d failed. I wasn’t an idiot and I wasn’t blind. His reaction when I’d brushed the wash cloth over his ass confirmed what I’d already suspected. At some stage in his life, poor, beautiful Shay had been violated, abused and hurt to such a degree it still tortured him now. His violence when I’d touched him during his sleep. The words he’d cried out. His expression. The pain etched on his face, all made perfect sense to me now.
I felt so heartbroken for him. So angry
for him. I couldn’t fix what I’d inadvertently caused him to relive, but I could take his mind off it all for a few minutes and try to blow the man’s mind. I owed him that much.
I licked my way up and down his generous length. He tasted clean. He tasted of Shay. He tasted so good. So…damn...good. I didn’t mess around with him. He was too sick for that. I simply sucked him in as deep as I could and hollowed out my cheeks, working him in and out of my mouth, feeling him hit the back of my throat each and every time.
I listened to his breathing as it got louder and harsher. His body shifted restlessly and I felt his hands tangling in my hair. I used the clues he gave me and I put every effort into giving him the best blow job of his life. Clearly I succeeded because it didn’t take long until I heard him groan loudly and his hands began clawing at my hair. Just as the pain registered from the sharp tugs on my scalp from his fingers, I felt the warmth of his release flood my mouth. I swallowed around him and each time I swallowed, he moaned again until finally he collapsed back on the bed.
When I lifted my head, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, his breathing rasping and wheezing through his lungs. I watched him until it began to slow, I watched him until his eyelids fluttered closed and I watched him until his breathing finally evened out, and he drifted off into a deep sleep.
Once he was asleep, I quickly and quietly cleaned up from bathing him and then pulled a sheet over his naked body. He was still hot, the water having done nothing to lower his temperature. I stood for a moment watching him, seeing the hectic colour in his cheeks. The man was ill and although his breathing had settled after the blow job I’d given him, I was still worried about how laboured it sounded.
Damn stubborn, fool man. He needed a doctor. He needed something to lower his temperature so his brain didn’t cook. Clearly I wasn’t going to find anything in his house to give him. I was going to have to go out.
I remembered passing a smallish shopping centre on my way here so maybe I’d find a Pharmacy there? I’d have to leave him alone but hopefully now he’d been freshened up and had an orgasm, he’d sleep a while. It was going to take more than sponge baths and orgasms to cure him though. He needed pills and too bad if he didn’t like to take them.
With a final glance at him to be sure he was still sleeping, I gathered up my bag. After a few minutes lost hunting around for keys to the house, I found them in a bowl in the living room. Dropping them in my bag, I let myself out of Shay’s house and hurried down the pathway to my car.
It was close on an hour later when I finally let myself back into Shay’s home. I dropped the bags of groceries and medication I’d bought, on his kitchen bench top and began to sort things out to put away.
I had everything I needed to start trying to make the man well again. Of course given his behaviour so far, I wasn’t holding my breath that he wouldn’t act like a disobedient toddler and refuse to take them. Stupid men and their whole thinking they were indestructible attitude to life. Never wanting to show any weakness. Well it wasn’t a weakness to get sick but it was a weakness to refuse help and certainly to refuse to take medication that might speed up the whole ‘feeling better’ thing.
When I walked into his bedroom he was still sleeping but not well. He was thrashing from side to side. His body twisting and turning, becoming more and more tangled up in the sheet that hugged his hips. I could see the flush to his cheeks from his fever and when I lightly touched a hand to his forehead his skin was hot and clammy feeling. It worried me to see him so sick and to feel him so hot. The man was like a furnace there was that much heat coming off him. I had to try and wake him and force the pills down his throat whether he liked it or not.
Bending down I placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. He didn’t wake but his movements became more restless, more agitated. I shook him again, leaping back when he shot up suddenly, taking me by surprise. His hands flew up, just before his eyes opened and I had no doubt if I’d been closer to him, he would have hit me.
“No…don’t touch me.” He growled, his lips pulling back from his teeth until it looked like he was snarling at me. “Don’t do that. Stay away.”
I looked at him, momentarily shocked by his words until I realised his eyes were glassy looking and fixed, staring straight ahead. He was still asleep. He wasn’t addressing me personally. It was happening again. He was trapped in the middle of a remembered time in his life. He was having a nightmare. I had to wake him, somehow.
“Shay.” I called his name, reluctant to approach him in case he hit out at me. God, he needed to wake. Seeing him like this, the agony in his expression and hearing the pain and obvious distress in his voice was too much. It was heartbreaking watching him reliving whatever it was that had hurt him so badly that his sleep was plagued by memories of it.
After calling his name a few more times, getting louder each time, finally he woke and I saw the glassiness in his eyes clear, replaced by recognition when he saw me. “Lyla?” He asked, frowning up at me. What…what…where were you?”
“I went out and bought you some things. You need to eat and you don’t seem to have a lot of food in the house. I also have medication for you and I want you to take it. No arguments. You’re running a fever and you need to get your temperature down.” I pulled out a thermometer I’d also purchased. “Let me take your temperature first.”
Shay eyed me off warily. “I’m not taking any fucking pills.” He growled his voice still hoarse from whatever virus was attacking his body.
I sighed noisily before glaring at him. “Stop being such a pigheaded fool. You’re sick and clearly running a high fever. The fact your skin is so damn hot to touch is proof of that. Don’t you realise that if we don’t get your temperature down it can fry your brain.” I rolled my eyes. “Oh right. It’s obviously already working. That’s why you’re being such an ass and refusing my help to try and make you better.”
He glared at me for several moments until his body sagged and I knew he’d given up the fight. “Fuck. Fine. Dammit…dammit.” He rubbed a hand over his pale face. “Just get it over and done with.”
“It’s just a thermometer first.” I told him, fighting not to smile over my tiny victory with him. Was he always such a stubborn man? I held the thermometer to him and when he didn’t respond, I shoved it between his lips, forcing him to open for me. Once it was in his mouth I instructed him to close around it, which he did, his eyes flashing his irritation at me the whole time.
After seconds spent glaring at me, he went to say something and I snapped at him. “Don’t you dare speak or I’ll take your temperature the same way they do for animals.”
The moment the words were out of my mouth I wished I could take them back. Especially when I saw the brief flash of fear in Shay’s eyes before it was gone again. Seeing his reaction only made me more convinced that at some stage of his life he’d been sexually molested, and it broke my heart to think of anyone hurting him like that. It was pretty hard to ignore the mounting evidence though. What with the nightmares and the violent behaviour if anyone tried to wake him, plus his reaction to anything going near his ass.
The air crackled with tension following my thoughtless comment so when the thermometer beeped to indicate it was done, I nearly pounced on it, pulling it from his mouth and reading the display. Of course it confirmed what I already knew. The man was sick and running a high temperature. With an ‘I told you so’ look on my face I turned it so he could read the digital display, raising an eyebrow at him, daring him to find reason to argue with me.
“Are you going to stop acting like a petulant child and take something to help bring your temperature down?” I asked.
His lip curled up in disgust. “I am not a child.” He snapped and I nearly laughed at his expression. “Fine. Hand me your chemically produced shit then.”
Trying not to let my smugness show, I popped two pills from the packet I’d bought and handed them to him along with the glass of water. With his eyes on me, clearly no
t happy about the situation, I watched him swallow them and place the glass back on his bedside table a little too firmly.
Once he flopped back on his pillows I smiled at him through gritted teeth. “Now, can I get you something to eat?” I asked, my voice laced with saccharine sweetness.
He blanched at my words and I was sure he turned a light shade of green. “Hell no. I’ll just throw it back up.”
His eyes met mine briefly before he turned his head from me and I took that as being a sign he was dismissing me. Placing the packet of pain killers on the bedside cupboard with the water I bent to straighten the tangled sheet around him.
“Why don’t you try and get some more sleep?” I suggested, tucking him in like he was a child before turning to leave but Shay’s hand shot out, grabbing my arm.
Expecting him to growl his displeasure at me again or something to that effect, I turned, a ready insult on my lips. The moment I saw his face my snappy retort died in my throat. The look in his eyes took me by surprise. It looked remarkably like anxiety. “Stay with me – please?”
His words floored me. “Why? You need to rest Shay. You’re sick, really sick. I’m not tired. If I lie with you I’ll only disturb you and you should be sleeping as much as possible so you get better faster.”
“Watch TV. Read. Anything, but stay with me until I sleep. Please. My…I…sleep is…it’s not always the best time for me.”
His words gutted me and a dull ache started up in my heart. It wasn’t just his words though. The vulnerability I saw in his beautiful silvery blue eyes made me hurt for him. It was the closest he’d come to admitting he was not as tough and impenetrable as he tried to make out.
Sex God Page 21
