I walked to thetable, climbed up using a chair as a step, and started dancing. My mind waswhirling - here I was, a respectable married woman, dancin... nude in a lezbar. Well, almost nude. But having the white thigh highs on somehow made itmore humiliating than if I'd been totally nude.The music seemed to go on and on. After each number I glanced over at Sara with a silent appeal. Each time she smiled and waved me on. I danced anddanced, finally losing myself in the music. Sweat. "Rick, I think a couple of the ones in front are the worst. Particularly the one across my breasts — or where they used to be. It's pretty bad with infection. Why don't you let me do them myself? You already did the hard ones on my back that I couldn't reach. But I can reach these just fine. And you have to be getting sick just looking at me!"Rick came closer to crying at that instant than he had since he was six years old. This girl who had nursed him was offering to clean her own terrible. More

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