Unfortunately the first concern that occupies my mind is the possibility that Oliver can feel my temperature rising when we contact physically, and that somehow makes me feel embarrassed. With my eyes tightly shut and my lips firmly pursed I bow my head low, hoping to hide my blushing cheeks from Oliver's sight.
When Oliver sees me being clumsy, a soft chuckle slips out of his lips, "Come here, silly. after he ensures I am safely held in his arms, he carefully leans my back against the door. He stands close to me and slowly kneels down to the floor, "Let me help you clean it."
He first spreads the wet rug over his palm, then gently he lays his palm over my crotch. He starts to move his hands front and forth trying to rub the stain off my trousers.
As Oliver begins to clean my trousers, our surroundings gradually fall silent, that even the music playing on the gramophone record player outside can easily be heard through the slits in the door…
