I had been at the home for about three years when I was called into the manager's office. A long time carer had decided to retire. Although I had helped out during the difficult times, I was not a carer. She looked at me over her glasses. Then the unthinkable happened. She asked if I would like to leave portering and become a trainee carer.

I was almost lost for words but I did manage to say, "Thank you and yes, I would like to accept your offer." For the first few weeks, I doubled as a night porter/carer. I was put on the team of Sister Rebecca, a frosty woman aged about fifty. Things went surprisingly well. She mellowed a little after a while.

Big changes were happening. A new wing had been built to accommodate post-op patients who were not of the Jewish faith. My night time rounds with Rebecca were quite straight forward. Just to look in the rooms to make sure that the ladies were in bed and not on the floor.

Before long, she decided that we would do half the rooms each. As I wandered around my allocated rooms, I felt quite important because she clearly trusted me to do the job. On my third night, I found Mrs Rosenberg asleep in her chair. She was a nice elderly lady about the same age as Sarah.

There was however something else. Her flimsy little nightdress hardly covered her important part. Yes, I had a good look but I did not touch her. I decided to leave her as she was in the chair. When I saw Sister, I mentioned it and she just brushed it aside.

The first of the non-Jewish people began to arrive in the Autumn. The first person was Mrs Russel from Leicester Royal Hospital. No idea what her op was; the new arrivals were advised not to talk about them. She was English and had a beautician's business and she reminded me of a porcelain doll. Her complexion was flawless.

She sat on the edge of the bed. As I bent down to unlock her suitcase, I took a very discreet little look up her skirt and caught a glimpse of her white knickers. She smiled as she caught my glance. I liked her very much especially as she gave me a tip. Mrs Russel was the only new patient to arrive during the night.

After about a month, I was again summoned to the manager's office. It annoyed me the way that she always looked over her glasses at me. She came straight to the point. "David, how do you feel about being the sole night time carer for the new wing?" I was gobsmacked because I did not have a single qualification as in merits or diplomas as a carer. I was still very much a trainee. 

What a great opportunity she had offered me. Yes, I accepted most gratefully. Monday evening, the manager took me around the six rooms in the new wing and introduced me to the residents. All but one were polite and seemed happy with the situation. Only one very big lady appeared not to approve of a male carer.

Some of the ladies were in for the short term and others for a couple of months. I had become a trusted professional and all I had to do was take care of their needs during the night time.

Mrs Russel was an insomniac and got by on about two hours of sleep a night. I would often spend time with her. One night, we were having a glass of wine in her room and she asked if I could do her a little favour.

She was too embarrassed to have her underwear washed in the laundry and she wanted me to hand wash her things at home. So the following morning I went off to my little flat with six pairs of her very silky knickers in a brown paper bag hidden under my overcoat.

Being her carer, I did exactly what she had requested but not before I had examined each pair meticulously. That night I visited Mrs Russel first to return her washing. Her face lit up when I entered her room. "Have you done them, David?" she inquired.

I tried to hand over to her the brown paper bag but she declined. She had a wicked smile on her lips as she whispered to me. "Lay them out on the bed." So I did. "Well, David as my carer, which pair of knickers would you like me to wear in the morning?" I must admit that I liked her rather naughty behaviour and I even considered spanking her.

Boldly I pointed to the light pink ones with white lace trim. Again that wicked smile. "Get your arse back here at six am and you can put them on for me." As I left her room my cock was so stiff. Was she just teasing or did she need some very close attention? 

A new lady arrived she was Indian. She was clearly used to having servants attending her. I could not believe certain things. That night when I came on duty, I went into her room with the sister and the new arrival was laying naked on her bed reading a book.

She pointed towards the bathroom. sister whispered to me, "I think she wants a bath." When sister left I ran the bathwater and she just got in and never said a word. She reached over and handed me the sponge. She was stunning. I think my hands were shaking just a bit as I caressed her nakedness with that warm wet soapy sponge.

She just lay there with her eyes closed. I was not brave enough to wash her down there so I put the sponge in her hand. What did she do? She gave it back to me. I was a professional carer (not quite). With my blood pressure soaring I gingerly went down below. I lightly washed her pride and joy. I was fully aware that the softness of the sponge was teasing her clitty.

Her head moved from side to side she began to make soft moaning like sounds. Suddenly she grabbed my hand and pushed it hard against her slit. The lady was clearly in need of a good wanking with the soft sponge and that was what she got. I think it took me about half an hour to dry her. She just stood there with her eyes closed.

My nightmare, better known as the big woman, was due her bath the following night. I was dreading it. Sister gave me words of encouragement. About that time, another new post-op patient arrived. She was a German lady living in Leicester. No one had told me what to expect.

I met her for the first time that evening. She was in bed looking through some papers. She smiled warmly and gestured for me to sit in the chair by her bed. Her name was Helga and she had lovely blue eyes and short fair hair. She was clearly not used to being in a care home.

I said all the right things, told her that I would be her carer and I explained the routine of the home. She lent over to me and in broken English asked if there was any chance of a bath before bedtime. She was such a nice lady, I could not refuse her.

Once again I ran the bathwater when the tub was about half full I added bath salts and bubble making liquid everything was ready. I called out to her very quietly but got no reply. As she slipped off the duvet I got a major shock. Helga had no legs.

"David," she said, her voice barely audible. "I need a little help, please?" I lifted her up. She was so light and she clung to me as a small child would. I lowered her slowly into the inviting bathwater she lay back and said something probably in German. I assumed it was an agreeable word.

I let her soak for a little while she looked so contented. I had no reservations at all about bathing her she was a delight. The only way I could dry her was by lying her down on a bath towel whilst I dried her with another. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

I carried her back to her bed I attempted to slip her nightdress over her head but she asked me to stop. She wanted to lie on top of the duvet. We chatted for a while she told me that she was born disabled and pointed to the corner of the room where her artificial legs were. I felt such sorrow for her.

She gestured for me to come closer. What she said was almost mind-blowing. "Did you like bathing me, David?" Her voice was so soft. I blurted out something in reply. She smiled. "David," she whispered, "am I the first woman you have bathed with no legs?" Before I could answer she chuckled.

Helga was clearly very much in charge and I was more than pleased to go along with things. She lent over and put off the bed sidelight.

Then she whispered, "All nice, and dark, and safe now? David, do you want to fuck me?" I never even answered.

I could not get my uniform of quick enough. My cock was rigid. Helga was clearly in need. I could not believe that I was fucking a woman with no legs. She was incredible. She even got on top and rode me as if I were a stallion. Helga was booked into the home for five weeks and they were the best weeks of my life.

The following night it was bath time for the big lady. I was transfixed by her appearance. Her tits were the size of melons and she had no less than four spare tyres. The lowest one hungover so much that it concealed her slit. Bathtime did not last very long.

As instructed by Mrs Russell I reported to her room at six am. She was sitting in the chair by her bed wearing her dressing gown. She smiled when she saw me."On time then, David?" She noted looking at the wall clock. She pointed to the cupboard against the far wall. "You will find what you need in there?" Her voice was strangely cold.

I soon found the agreed knickers pink with white lace trim. As I approached her she slipped off her dressing gown and bared herself to me. "Well, David, today I will allow you to slip my knickers on now maybe, just maybe, if you're a good boy, another time I may let you get them down. Would you like that?" (What could I say?)

Sadly, Sarah, who was everything to me died in her sleep on the first day of the Passover. I was heartbroken. I was not allowed to attend her service because I was an Auslander. I stood outside her Synagogue. I saw her arrive and I saw her leave on her last journey and my tears flowed.

I have visited her resting place many times, it always pleased me greatly to note how many stones were on her grave. Before I placed mine I always gave it a light kiss. R.I.P. my friend.

I was at the home thirty-eight years then for whatever reasons, it closed down. The old house is still there but it's all boarded up. However, I do know a way in. Downstairs at the back, there is a door with a faulty lock. Sometimes I walk the silent corridors at night. I see the ghosts of those people who are long gone. When my time comes I will walk with them.