Lying in bed, I anticipate the warmth of my upcoming shower. The thought alone sends a quiet thrill through me—the feeling of sitting naked on my shower chair, steam curling around me as hot water cascades over my skin.

The carer’s hands move with practiced ease, spreading soap, scrubbing gently. Their touch is both methodical and intimate, gliding over my shoulders, down my chest, across my thighs. When they reach between my legs, pulling back my foreskin to wash me thoroughly, a familiar heat stirs within me. My body reacts involuntarily, responding to the steady rinse of water and the careful touch that lingers just long enough to awaken something deeper.

By the time the shower ends, arousal hums beneath my skin, pulsing with each heartbeat. As they pat me dry, the friction of the towel ignites a sharp, electric pleasure, teasing my hypersensitive nerves.

Back in bed, I settle on my back, my erection standing tall, throbbing in the cool air. As they pull my trousers up, the fabric strains, a taut tent forming as the material slides over me. Each shift, each subtle press against the sensitive head of my cock, sends small jolts of lingering sensation coursing through me.

Time passes, the heat ebbing slowly, pleasure giving way to a quiet hum of satisfaction. Only then, in the hush of the moment, does my body finally settle, softening into stillness.