I applied more of the foam. That was the only annoying part about this routine, it was so repetitive. I donned my face mask, tying it behind my head and neck. I pinched the metal on my nose, adjusting it to fit perfectly and glanced up at Dr.Carter. I was a little startled to see him gazing at me in an indescribable way. Unaware that I was staring at him, his gaze drifted down my body, hovering over my tits and then my hips. I looked away, not wanting him to know I caught his lustful stare. I cleared my throat snapping him out of it, and asked what next. He resumed his professional appearance and directed me to start my hand washing techniques while writing something down on the clipboard. I walked over to the sink, aware of his gaze on me. I grabbed the sponge package and started to squeeze, activating the suds. I opened the package, threw it away, and gabbed the fingernail pick attached to the sponge. I diligently cleaned under each finger nail on both hands, then tossed the pick. My father, brothers, and an occasional uncle or two have seen me nude and it was no big thing. I grew up not being ashamed of my body and not thinking it wrong to see anyone else's. When I married at nineteen I lucked out and got a guy who was a free spirit and we eventually became nudists so I've never been overly concerned about clothes, especially in my own house.I lost Don to cancer when I was thirty-nine and I mourned him for two years. Then I started dating and four years later I met and married Dion. Dion had two sons: Phillip who was nineteen and going on twenty, and Todd who had just turned eighteen. Almost from day one Dion was on me for the way I dressed around the house and I shrugged it off. That is I shrugged it off until I finally figured out what Dion's problem was - he was afraid of what might happen - he was jealous of his sons and he was afraid that they might see the way I ran around the house as a come on. Dion was afraid they might get lucky sometime when he was.
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