Eighteen-year-old Diane sighed with exasperation and glanced down at her father. "Come on, Daddy, don't be so silly. It's nothing I've not seen before."
"But you're my daughter. And when have you ever seen me naked?" replied Diane's father, Terry.
The predicament he found himself in was, to say the least, embarrassing.
"You've sulked in that chair ever since you returned home from the hospital. How long has it been since you last bathed?"
Terry shrugged meekly. "Can't remember."
"Far too long, that's for certain."
An accident at work had broken both Terry's hands, rendering them useless. Both bandaged and painful, they'd be out of use for quite sometime, and now Terry had to resign himself to the fact that he's daughter, Diane, was the only person who would look after him.
Diane's mother had left years ago. She had run off with a guy she had met online, leaving Terry to bring up Diane on his own. And that is exactly what he had done, and, in doing so, had been the best father any one could ask for. Now it was time for Diane to step up to the plate, look after her father in his time of need and, if necessary, go that extra mile to keep him comfortable and content during his recovery.
Terry sighed with resignation. "All right, if makes you happy, you can bathe me."
Diane smiled to herself.
Once upstairs Terry went to his bedroom.
"I'm going to run the bath. Do you need any help getting out of your clothes?"
He shook his head. Diane made for the bathroom.
Terry heard the sound of running taps and looked down at himself sheepishly. He shrugged and then used his bandaged hands to slide off his trousers. Sitting on the bed, he slipped off his socks and shirt, and then sat there, feeling awkward. A towel suddenly sailed towards him.
"Use this if you're feeling bashful," Diane called out. He pulled the towel from his head where it had landed, rested it across his lap, and then wrestled with his underpants. Terry looked up to see Diane smiling at him from the doorway, steam from the bathwater billowing over her shoulder.
"Such modesty," she said, smiling happily. "Into the bath with you. I'll be there in a moment."
The splash of water and muffled sighs told her he had immersed himself as she picked up his clothes, chucking them straight into the wash basket. Terry was the in the bath, enjoying its cocoon warmth, when he heard the phone ring.
Diane's muffled voice came through the open bathroom door as it was answered.
It wasn't his young daughter seeing him naked that bothered him, nor was it the fact that she would be washing him. His concern, however, arose from the prospect of an inadvertent erection. Due to his injuries, Terry hadn't masturbated for quite some time and, as a result, a light breeze around his genitalia would have been enough to pique his sexual arousal. After all, Diane was a very attractive young girl, there was no denying that, and the mere thought of her washing his naked body - between the legs especially - had started to stir his wayward member before she had even entered the bathroom.
"Oh, Jesus," he muttered under his breath, feeling the first stirrings of arousal in his groin.
After a few moments of one-sided phone conversation, he heard footsteps crossing the hallway towards the bathroom. Diane came in with a beaming smile on her face.
"That was Beth on the phone. Guess what?" she said happily, as she began unbuttoning her shirt.
Terry gasped. "What are doing?"
"Just slipping off my shirt. I wouldn't want to get my clothes all wet, now, would I? Don't worry, Daddy, I'm wearing a bra."