Loving Stepfather

I was momentarily shocked, but then realised that this was typical of Julia’s attitude to sex: it was for pleasure and should be fun – and everyone had the right to enjoy it. She always said that as long as people made sure they were safe, they should get over artificial social values and accept that sex is fun. It made sense that she would apply this to her daughter, and want to help her get over the psychological barriers which life had so cruelly imposed.

“So – will there be a next time?”

“Well,” I replied, “Emma wants there to be. I think she wants to go further, but I wouldn’t without asking you.”

She straddled my body, wet pussy resting on my stomach, breasts swaying gently , jiggling in my eyeline. I wondered if she was trying to use her nipples to hypnotise me.

“It’s fine with me. Whatever happens is between you two – and you don’t have to fuck me afterwards if you’ve shot your load. I’m just here so I can talk to Emma and make sure she’s ok. I know you wouldn’t hurt her, but I mean psychologically – a debrief after therapy, if you like. I’ll let you know if she says anything significant. Right now, I need to see her. She’s had time to think, so now she needs to talk.”

Julia climbed off me, grabbed a towel to wipe her pussy, cleaning up our mixed juices, and dressed quickly, not bothering with a bra. I watched as she prepared to leave, boobs swinging, nipples forming hard points beneath her t-shirt. I felt myself begin to harden a little.

Julia returned more than an hour later, by which time I was watching TV in the living room. She planted a firm kiss on my lips. “Thank you. I’ve never seen Emma so happy. She’s glowing. Can’t wait for next time – and, before you ask – she does want more. She also asked if her friend from the support group could join her. You know Sangeeta? They’ve discussed their sexual issues in private, and she feels Sangeeta would really benefit. What d’you think?”

Sangeeta was a woman who Emma met at the hospital. Like Emma, she used a wheelchair following an accident, and had spinal damage. She had lost her right leg from the knee. With her condition being so similar, it was easy to see why they had been drawn to one another, and why they would have discussed the rather thorny matter of sex for disabled people.

I thought about it. Sangeeta was not as attractive as Emma – she had not exercised, and had become very ‘curvy’, with some excess weight. Not too much, but enough for her to feel self-conscious over it. As well as this, she had had scars on her face, and needed major dental work. Her parents’ religious beliefs prevented her from discussing sex it was clear Emma had become something of an outlet.

I voiced my only real concern, which was the response of her parents. Julia had laughed and explained that there was no way ‘in a million years’ that Sangeeta would tell them, and no-one would even consider the possibility of me as a sexual surrogate for them. I chose not to mention my other thought – that I could end up doing this for more than just two people – I could end up offering my bizarre therapy for a huge number of disabled young women – and men, perhaps.

I wondered if Julia was considering doing the same for the young men – or women – and tried to rationalise my feelings. I had no reason to feel jealous about it – and, as long as there was the element of ‘professional detachment’, and no emotions involved, it could be highly beneficial.

In addition, the whole idea made me feel horny. I enjoyed the whole ‘clothed female, naked male’ vibe – and I had loved seeing Emma naked – so, as far as I was concerned, it was a win – win situation.

“Just one thing,” said Julia – and I waited for her to place firm limits – “keep it to once a month. I’m not going to miss out on fucking you, while they get all the fun.”

I smiled and reassured her. We melted into one another and made our way to bed. This time, we made love slowly, tenderly, building to our orgasms in the familiar ways we had enjoyed for years – and looking forward to something rather more kinky over the next couple of nights.

So it was, that a month later, I presented myself in Emma’s room. She and Sangeeta were sitting on Emma’s bed. This time, Emma’s smile was confident and she was clearly looking forward to the event. Sangeeta smiled too, but her nerves and tension were almost tangible.

I looked into her eyes. She had beautiful eyes, magnified by her glasses to increase the intensity of her stare. I read her fears and expectations in them. “Look,” I told her, “this is for you. If you’re uncomfortable, say so, and we can stop immediately. It’s all about comfort zones. I know we’re more open than your family, but you’re in control. OK?”

She smiled nervously and nodded before speaking. “Thanks. It’s not really that, though. I want to do this, and I want to push myself as far as possible. It’s just that … well … I’m worried I might offend you, or that I’ll lose my nerve.”

Emma laughed and pushed her friend’s shoulder, causing her to fall back on the bed. “Don’t be silly. It works both ways. If you ask something that’s a bit much, we can say so. No shame. No embarrassment. And we’ll take it slow. Just go with it, and we’ll see where we end up.”

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence, then Emma spoke again. “Let’s make it a game. I’ve got a dice here. Even numbers, Dean takes something off. One or three, I take something off, five, Sangeeta loses. I know it’s not ‘fair’, but so what. Dean’s here for our benefit, so he really should lose more, I’m not too bothered. He’s seen me naked, so stripping off won’t matter. You’re most nervous, Sangeeta, so it should be gentle for you. What d’you think?”

Normally I would not have been happy at such a biased game, but Emma’s explanation made sense, so I agreed. Sangeeta thought briefly, then nodded. “What happens when someone loses everything?”

I should have known that Emma had it all planned. “Well – the other two decide on a forfeit for the loser. Mum said Dean has permission to do anything, so we can really enjoy it. Don’t worry, Sangeeta. We’ll be gentle if it’s you.”

It seemed she had planned this carefully – and she was right. Julia had given me a free pass. I swallowed and nodded.

Of course, as well as the bias in the game, I was wearing fewer clothes – shoes, socks, t-shirt, jeans and boxers. They both wore cardigans, t-shirts, shoes, t-shirt, skirt, tights, bra and knickers. Oh yes, this was a set-up. The temperature in the room certainly made that many clothes unnecessary – especially the tights – yet that’s how it was. I considered challenging the situation, asking them to lose the tights and cardigans, but what the hell.

The game started, and as expected, I lost badly. The first three throws were even numbers, leaving me in jeans and boxers. Sangeeta gazed at my chest.

“He’s got a good body for an old man,” stated Emma, “he works out to get that nice flat stomach. When we get to the forfeits, you’ll have to touch it. Nice and smooth too. Do you shave?”

I nodded. “Yeah. You’re mum likes a smooth chest.”

“You should shave everywhere. Mmmm.”

Thankfully, my luck changed. Both women lost their shoes and cardigans before I had to slip out of my jeans. Only then did Sangeeta speak.

“This seems unfair. We should even things up. How about two numbers each? I’ll be five and two, Emma one and six and Dean three and four?”

I was surprised. Sangeeta had become more confident, but I still wondered how she would feel when she had to slip off her bra. She might lose her nerve, of course, and I wondered if her suggestion was less a growing willingness to expose herself, and more reluctance to see me naked.

Emma lost next and willingly shed her top. Sangeeta gazed at the perfect breasts, contained in a satin and lace bra – red this time. Although these two were close friends, and had discussed sex, I guessed they had never looked at one another’s bodies. Many friends grew up together in schools and shared changing rooms, so seeing each other naked was normal. These two only met due to their shared misfortunes, so had no such experience.

Emma realised that her friend was staring, and turned to offer a better view. Sangeeta snapped away instantly. “Sorry,” she muttered, “in my family we never see each other naked. Well. I never see anyone else. My mum and sister have seen plenty of me.”

There was a bitterness. I know that disabled people often feel their privacy is side-lined, but accept it as mostly necessary for medical professionals and caring needs. Accepting it, however, does not mean it is welcome, and I had heard many stories of people he felt it unnecessary on some occasions, and bordering on abusive on others. Emma had commented, when younger: ‘why do they need my knickers off when they’re looking at my legs?’ She had a point.

Julia had made a point of being naked when Emma was – when she bathed her or had to carry out medical treatments. We all feel a bit vulnerable when naked, and having the others around us equally exposed seems to balance things out. It was never done for exhibitionism, solely to make Emma feel that they were equals. It stopped once Emma was able to care for herself again.