Go with her

“Okay sure, as long as you don’t have any more guns there,” you reply with a smile.

“No guns. I promise!” She replies with a hearty laugh, her cute round face lighting up with a big smile, relieved that you’re already joking about the accident.

Heading out of the police headquarters and across the street you ask Rebecca a few probing questions about the situation you find both of yourselves in. She knows about as much as you, which is nothing. Waking up three days ago she and her daughter found themselves alone. Similar to you she has been searching for signs of life in the immediate area with her daughter, but found nothing. That is until she found – and shot – you.

“Sara went out earlier today to see if any of her college friends survived,” Rebecca explains as you arrive at her house with a limp, “they live nearer the college at the other side of town, she won’t be back for a while.”

Her home a modern semi-detached two bedroom house with a small hedged in garden at the front. Opening the front door Rebecca beckons you inside and shows you into the living room. She disappears through a door at the back of the room for a few moments and returns with a bottle of vitamin water and a few biscuits.

“Here,” she says, handing them to you, “make yourself at home, I’ll be back in a few minutes with the first aid kit."

The furnishings are very homely, a large comfortable sofa covered with an array of fluffy cushions dominate the room. Covering the walls are paintings depicting peaceful scenes of the English countryside, rolling hills, thatched cottages and farmhouses to name a few. The few family photographs adoring the walls show her and who you assume to be her daughter at a young age, a pretty girl with long blonde hair. You note the absence of any photographs that include a husband, noticing the lack of a wedding band earlier you assume she is separated, or divorced.

You’re walking around nibbling on a biscuit as she returns, green first aid kit in hand.

“You have a lovely house,” you say to Rebecca genuinely.

“Thanks, I don’t get out much so I like to live comfortably. Why not, eh?” Rebecca says with a confidence that was absent until now.

Placing the first aid kit on the table she opens it and removes a roll of bandages, a handful of anti-septic wipes and a roll of surgical tape. While examining a painting hanging from the wall she walks over to you.

“Now, let’s fix that leg of yours. We don’t want it to get infected.” She says, kneeling infront of you, face at crotch level.
Rebecca unbuttons and unzips your jeans, with no warning she suddenly hooks her fingers under the waistband of your jeans – and briefs – and pulls them down to your ankles. Suddenly naked from the waist down you’re not quite sure how to react to this, and decide to just stand and see what happens next. Rebecca is staring intently at your flaccid cock and heavy shaven balls, her breath on your genitals is incredibly arousing.

“Now let’s get you cleaned up,” Rebecca says, snapping back to reality. “This might hurt a little.”

Reaching behind her she grabs an antiseptic wipe, ripping the package open she begins softly wiping the graze on your thigh. You know it should sting but the fact that you are half naked infront of this woman – whom you’ve just met – is over-riding any pain. You watch her diligently work, her wavy black hair covering most of her facial features and her massive breasts, straining against her sweater, are protruding so far forward it blocks you from seeing her lower body.

“That should help stave off any infection,” she says rather clinically, “now to bind the wound.”

She grabs the bandage, removes the plastic wrapping, unrolls a meter and snips it off with a pair of scissors from the med-kit.
With no prior warning she confidently cups your cock and balls and moves them to the side. One end of the bandage held in her teeth and using her other hand to wrap the bandage around your thigh she begins bandaging up your wound. Very tenderly she begins fondling your quickly growing manhood. You keenly watch Rebecca, examining her work she holds the bandage in place and looks up at you.

“Hold here please,” she says authoritatively, pressing her finger into your thigh to indicate where.

Tentatively you hold the bandage in place while she reaches for the surgical tape and bites a few strips off, applying them to the bandage. Shuffling her heavy body backwards a few inches she inspects the finished bandage on your thigh, still holding your now almost fully erect cock and shaven balls in her hand, the whole experience arousing you greatly.

“Not bad if I do say so,” Rebecca says looking up at you “I really am sorry Caleb, this was all my silly fault. Did I apologise to you yet?”