His name was John. He was very much taller than me: 6’1 as compared to my 5’, and his hair was a wonderful mess of brown and grey curls, making him look very distinguished, and, I dare say, very sexy. His flirty greenish blue eyes were emphasized by his dark, thick eyebrows just as his plump lips were accented by his dark, thick, beard. He had the free spirit and passion of an artist and was talented in many artistic areas, which I admired greatly. As my mind wandered I began to find myself thinking more and more about John: the way his strong arm felt against me, his warm breath against my skin; I felt my body heat up and my breath begin to quicken. I started to squeeze my breasts gently and found myself wishing it was his hands that were touching my body. My panties were starting to get rather damp as I squirmed in bed, starting to touch my hard, sensitive nipples. I moaned gently and then stopped myself, realizing where I was- hoping to God John didn’t hear me. Despite this I. If that meant I still had issues, I didn't care. As long as I wasn't force through that door or into the mouths of dragons I was happy. I was normal and I was in love with Cindy. I know that I'd shied every time I'd approached that juncture before, but helping to take care of her, cured me. Bringing her bedpans in the hospital and being in charge of her physical therapy once she got home let me see her at her worst. I even heard her curse! It was the first time, against doctor's orders, she sat down in her tub and couldn't lift herself up.I had cleaned her mouth when the drugs made her sick and too weak to even hold her head up. I'd seen her at her emotional worst. I'd seen her pain make her short tempered and I'd seen her loopy from taking OxyContin. OxyContin is a miracle drug, but I do pray that I never have to take it. Aside from the personality changes, Cindy was also unnaturally upbeat, was it the drug or the lack of pain that made her assume she could do all sorts of things she.
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