It's Not the Size That Counts Ch. 04

"Sexy outfit," he teased.

I giggled. "Well, it's not my fault that my spare work clothes are scrubs! At least they're comfortable."

Steven pulled away from me and gently brushed a piece of wet hair away from my face. "Stay right there," he requested, and shortly came back into the bathroom with a high stool, the kind that usually sits at a breakfast bar in a kitchen. He had me sit on it, and proceeded to take the brush from my hand and start working out the snarls in my hair.

"I'll have to buy conditioner and keep it here, I see," he commented, and my stomach flipped. I didn't know what to say, so I stayed silent. He continued working out the knots, his gentle fingers in my hair relaxing me. I moaned lightly under my breath, and he dropped the brush and worked a little harder on my scalp.

"Feel good?" he asked, massaging my head gently.

"Mmmhmmm." As he stood behind me, his fingers laced through my hair, I leaned back against his chest, totally relaxed. His hands moved further down to massage my neck, and I flopped my head forward to give him access.

I'm actually a massage slut. I'll do anything, for anyone who'll give me a good neck massage. With Steven, his strong hands worked through the tight muscles in my neck, relaxing me; however the rough pads on his fingertips dragging against my very sensitive skin were igniting little curls of lust deep inside me. I fought the feelings, and tried to concentrate on relaxing, to no avail. My traitorous body started reacting to his touch, my nipples perking up, my lips reddening, and my panties starting to get wet. "It's a good thing I am wearing scrubs," I reflected. "He won't be able to tell my nipples are hard." In the mirror in front of me, I could see the darkness of his tanned hands, contrasted with the paleness of my own skin, and the sensual feelings coursing through my body intensified.

When he leaned down and buzzed the back of my neck with his lips, I broke out in goosebumps. I moaned again, and he took the opportunity to tilt my head slightly to one side and kiss and nibble along the muscle running from jaw to collarbone. Trying to hold still and not squirm under his talented mouth made me break out in a sweat. My breath was coming a little faster, and I longed to turn and attack his mouth with my own lips.

My stomach grumbling loudly interrupted us both, and we laughed. Steven pulled away from me, and I managed to sweep my mostly detangled hair into a scrunchy.

"Ready for supper?"

"Yep. Now look. Do you have anything I can wrap my ankle with? I think it will feel a lot better that way."

"Um, I don't think so."

"How about some rubbing alcohol? I really should clean out these cuts on my face and my hands."

"Er..."

"Ah. I see. Well, you need to make another trip out to my car. There's a first-aid kit in there."

He meandered out to get it, and I continued to examine myself in the mirror. "I don't look too bad," I mused out loud. "A small cut on my nose, a swollen cheek. It could have been worse." I knew it was going to look a lot worse in the morning.

I hopped out of the bathroom, and across his room to perch on the bed. I used Steven's phone to call work, and arrange for someone else to cover my shift the following day. I had a couple of days off after that, and figured I'd be fine to go back to work on Tuesday. When Steven came back, carrying my first-aid kit, that's where he found me.

"Damn it, stay in one place, woman! I don't want you hopping around like the energizer bunny on steroids. What if you fall again?" he scolded me.

"I'll be fine, Steven. Believe me, this isn't the first time I've sprained my ankle."

"Yes, I noticed the crutches in the trunk of your car. I was a boy scout, but I've never been that prepared. This is one hell of a first-aid kit, too. Why do you carry crutches?"

"I'm a doctor, Steven. Of course I have a good first aid kit. And as you might have figured out, I'm a bit clumsy. Those crutches have saved my butt a couple of times, I'll have you know. I don't suppose you thought to bring them in?"

"Thought about it. Decided against it though."

"What? Why?"

"Because this way I get to hold you tight to me and carry you around, and you can't do anything about it."

"Argh!"

********

Back in the living room, and re-installed on the couch, I had my ankle securely wrapped with an ace bandage, and had cleaned out all of my scrapes with rubbing alcohol. I had told Steven to keep the first-aid kit; I could easily get another. Besides, I kind of liked the fact that he would be keeping something of mine even after I broke up with him.

I had the bag of frozen peas sitting on the ankle again, both feet up on the couch. My green surgical scrubs clashed nicely with the couch and the rest of Steven's furnishings. Steven pulled the coffee table over within reach for me, and he had dragged a kitchen chair into the living room for himself. He served me supper in the living room; he had made an amazing chicken and broccoli dish with cheese sauce, and stir-fried vegetables. He kept refilling my wine glass as fast as I could drink it.

I was reserved during dinner, saying very little; every time I thought about breaking up with Steven, I'd get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I'd take another big sip of wine. Which meant that all-in-all, I was quite tipsy by the time dinner was done.

********

Author's Note:

I've had a few people ask why Sarah wouldn't have just had surgery to fix her problem. The fact is (and yes, I'm in a position to know) that surgery rarely works for this sort of issue. Her problem is related to scar tissue from an injury as a kid; any surgery risks causing more scar tissue, making it even worse. And as with any reason for a woman to have pain with sex, fear of pain often leads to muscle spasm (a medical condition called vaginismus) that worsens the pain dramatically and cannot be fixed surgically. There are things that can be done - as you will see in later chapters - but few doctors are trained in the treatments that work.

If you or anyone you know has suffered from vaginismus, I recommend you seek a referral to a qualified sex therapist or a gynecologist knowledgeable in treatment of the condition.