The bath

When I was 12, I was run over by a car. I don’t remember anything about it, but apparently it was my fault. We were larking around one morning on the way to school and somehow, I ended up running into the road. All I remember is waking up in the hospital, groggy and in a lot of pain. According to my parents and the doctors, I’d been in a coma for a week and no one knew if I’d pull through. Even if I had, they thought I might be a vegetable.

Turns out I was sturdier than they all thought. After a few weeks, I was able to sit up, feed myself, walk short distances and, much to my displeasure, do my homework. That was the biggest bummer because I thought I’d get at least six months off school. My school mates all came to visit me in hospital though and that was good. I got lots of presents and my parents and they totally spoiled me.

After three months, they let me go home and life returned to normal. As I was going through adolescence I was starting to learn about myself and my fantasies and I realised that my thoughts constantly went back to this one, really pretty nurse, who used to give me sponge baths and speak sweetly to me in hospital. At first I was embarrassed by her attentions, but over the days, I looked forward to them. She would wash me gently with a face cloth, starting with my face and hands.

She would then gently wash my arms, into my armpits and across my chest and up my neck. The warm water and the touch of her hands were exciting and different. I would get tingles and then I would giggle and pretend she was tickling me. She would always tell me what a good boy I was and how this would make me feel so much better.

The hard part for me was when she had to wash my privates and my bottom. I was mortified the first time. She explained that it had to be done and that she did it for all of her patients. She told me to talk to her and tell her some jokes while she did it to take my mind off of it. That seemed to work and, I started to think about those baths at night when I went to sleep.

At home, no one touched me like that or made me feel that way. I was a big boy and I didn’t need my mum to wash me. Anyway, that would have been weird. I didn’t want her seeing me naked. I started fantasising about those baths. Over the years, as I got older, the fantasies would become more complex, and the nurse would be naked and she’d touch my private parts a little bit more vigorously.

I’m 30 now and I still fantasise about those sponge baths. I’m also married to an amazing woman and we have a great sex life. She knows I have a bit of a thing for sexy nurses and even bought a costume once for Halloween. We certainly had fun after that party! But after that, she put the costume away and it never came out again. I don’t think she ever got how I felt about it and even though we’re like best friends, I just would feel like a perv telling her about the sponge bath thing.

It started to get a bit obsessive and I was being off with her, losing interest in sex and probably being a bit of a dick. We had a heart to heart. I didn’t tell her exactly what my issue was but I did admit it was sexual. She suggested I go to therapy and so I did. I did six sessions and it was good to get it off my chest. I was able to tell him exactly what was going on. He reassured me that fetishes are natural and urged me to talk to her about it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Things did improve after I shared my dirty little secret. It didn’t’ seem so dirty anymore but I still wasn’t going to tell my wife about it. Our sex life picked up and things got back to normal. We were both getting on well and quite happy, but my desires were still there, in the background, nagging me. I decided that since talking about it had helped so much, maybe actually doing something about it would ‘cure’ me, so to say.

I planned everything out and arranged to go to London for work. I booked an escort from Cleopatra escorts who had a nurses outfit and I explained my ‘special needs’ when I booked. I decided that I was not going to be unfaithful to my wife, but I had to re visit this experience to see if I could stop obsessing about it.

My escort turned up at my hotel room. I’d chosen one that looked as much like my fantasy nurse as I could find. In my adult mind, she looked close enough and as she was so pretty and sexy, it was easy to let my guard down. She was very sweet as well. She sat down on the sofa in the room and suggested we talk through everything before we started.

Even though I’d spoken to the therapist about this, it was the first time I’d ever told a woman, much less a woman who was going to help me make it real. I took a deep breath and I think I even shed a tear as I told her the whole story. When I was finished blurting it all out, she smiled warmly, reached over and gave me a huge hug. Then she took my face in both hands and spoke to me like a child. She said ‘OK sweetie, I want you to get all naked so I can give you a bath. I’m going to get ready and you go sit in the bathroom and wait for me.’

Almost in a trance, I did as she told me, stripped and went into the bathroom. When she came in, I gasped. She looked so hot. She started running the bath and tested the water temperature. When there were a few inches in the tub, she told me to get in. I did as I was told, a little bit too awe struck by her beauty to feel embarrassed. It was like I was on auto pilot.

I got in the bath and she knelt down beside it with a wash cloth and soap. She moistened it under the tap and lathered it up and then she started to bathe me. Just like I’d described to her. She started with my face, gently washing it and then rinsing the soap off. As she leaned over, I could see her cleavage. I could feel myself getting aroused and started to worry that I was being unfaithful, but then, as she spoke kind words to me and started running the cloth across my chest and down my arms, I was swept away with the sensation and forgot myself again.

As she moved down my body and reached my privates, she looked at me and softly asked if I wanted her to go ‘all the way’. I shook my head. I was going to stick to my guns on this. I did have a raging hard on, but this whole thing wasn’t really about sex and I realised that in the moment. It was the tenderness and the intimacy that felt so amazing. I didn’t even have the urge to get off.

After she finished, I gave her a generous tip. She really earned it. What an amazing role play she’d done for me. I finished myself off after she left and, for the first time ever, I fantasised about my wife when I did it. I slept better than I had in years and I couldn’t wait to get home.