Atrophy
“Fly, love! Be free!”
Silently, she was sitting on her shower chair, eyes closed, leaning against his upper body as his soapy hands spread the slippery film on her skin. Attentively, he lathered every inch of her, yet kept his professional distance when his fingers ran over her more intimate places. He hummed a soothing tune to appease her spirits. She found this procedure still somewhat upsetting, albeit a lot less than she had used to. He wa...