(She asked) ‘Can I ask you something?’
(She whispered) ‘have you ever.. touched a girl there?’
(I replied awkwardly) ‘Umm.. No? But I’ve seen.. videos.’
While I was still distracted by her suddenly-smiley face, she sneaked a hand over my knee and swiftly progressed upwards, fingertips wriggling into the hems of my shorts like she knew that I wouldn’t resist. From that moment she popped ‘that’ question, I understood her curiosity, but not her audicity to actually initiate anything.
Like she has thought, I fought back any urges to dart away, no matter how ticklish it felt. When she was finally got ‘far’ enough to come in contact with my undies, that was the moment we both realised how narrow it was (in my shorts) for her to keep moving.
Instead of pulling her hand away, she casually leaned forward and stretched her other hand out for my buckle, while all I had to do was ‘stay still’, or so I thought.
‘You can touch me too under the blanket.’
‘Are you sure?’
Before I even reached her knees, she already had her fingers wrapped around my cock, that was throbbing so hard I could feel my own heartbeat in my loin. In a way, she was easier to ‘access’ without any clothes on (under the sheets), having stripped down to her nines as part of her ‘sleeping routine’.
Oh! And I have not yet mentioned, that she was a classmate, wheelchair-bound due to a cognitive disability that left her otherwise-healthy legs immobile. Out of kindness, respect for her undying good spirits, and mainly, convenience, I had sent her home that evening, only to be as surprised as her when we found no one home.
Sleeping naked, was greatly helpful as it would meant one less attire to get out of, before her daily, morning shower. Besides her physiotherapy-days, there weren’t many occasions she had to break out a sweat.
That cheeky girl has got me moaning and writhing long before I touched her spot, though she wasn’t any less sensitive as I had expected. On top of that, my fingers could completely feel how wet she has gotten so quickly, to the point that my mind could only ‘use’ my enlarging dick to express my excitement.
(She whimpered) ‘you are getting bigger!’
‘I know.. I can’t help it.. ‘
(She moaned harder) ‘I know.. How I can help.. But you.. You might have to do all the work..’
That exact moment, was where my uncultured, primitive mind came to its senses, bombarding me with thoughts of ‘pity’, ‘guilt’, ‘responsibilities’, and basically every other reason I shouldn’t take advantage of an incapacitated friend. Where, I wondered, did ‘respect’, ‘chivalry’, my manners disappeared to.
‘You know.. I am just contented with this.. Like just doing this with you..’
‘Hey! But I’m not! I want this inside..’
Even for the right reasons, I couldn’t seem to shake ‘pity’ off, like I was only giving in because she was disabled. I couldn’t find the right words until a minute later, explaining my dilemma about doing it with her.
‘R? For all I know, this could be the only time I will get to do it. So I do want it, but only as much as you find me attractive, not pitiful.’
For the longest time, and to most of the guys in our class as well, she IS a desirable, pretty, if not gorgeous, girl I dare say we fantasised about at least once. As someone who (sort of) knew what she goes through on a daily basis, it was harder for me to like her any less.
‘You know what.. I do want you as much as it.’
Wasting not a second more, I flipped the blanket away and spread her legs, thereafter bending them at her knees for her to hold onto them. In our newfound, delighted mood, the real liberation came when I pushed my very tip into her dripping love hole.
As first-timers, I made the mistake of going in ‘too fast’, not that I knew what sensation to savour or behold. It was mostly ‘me’ in my mind, wanting to feel good in that hot, slippery pussy that I neglected who it belonged to until she moaned too loud for comfort.
One look at her euphoric, orgasmic face and I was instantly awakened, to the entire gist of ‘doing it’. The reason we were having such pleasurable sex, was solely her credit for allowing me to come this far. Who else, should my attention go to, focus on, to repay for the opportunity which wouldn’t deny me of my eventual ‘happy ending’.
I kept my eyes on her fluttering eyelids, as I thrust my hips hard and deep, making sure that she responded with a tighter grip over my cock.
(She moaned loudly) ‘R! I’M.. KA.. COMINGGGHHHH!’
Right at the second she sealed me deep within her vagina, I learnt of that overwhelming urge to cum, which I promptly subdued by freezing all movements. That few, long seconds, wouldn’t have felt too far of from an intense, thorough orgasm on my part. Her vaginal walls pulsated gripping heartbeats that calmed my mind, to take in the glorious sight of her exasperated, satisfied look, on a glowing, tanned body.
(She asked weakly) ‘is it your turn.. To cum?’
Honestly, I have spiritually achieved what I did not expect myself to, and there was no longer any desire to end ‘high’. Smiling silently at her dumbfounded expression, I pulled out of her and climbed out of her bed, only for her to ‘catch’ my cock before I could zip my shorts up.
That very word lured my hips to her face, where she coyly put her mouth over my cock and sucked on it, sloppily without any cues or knowledge on how to give head. On my part, I made short, shallow thrusts along her lips, leveraging on her naturally-small mouth to squeeze me in the right places.
After three or so minutes, I groaned louder as a warning, to ready her for the following few seconds. Once I crossed the point-of-no-return, my body relaxed, instead of tensing up, for an ample amount of cum to just exit my shaft, albeit in tiny, powerful squirts into her mouth.
The same, hopeful, delighted smile shone across her cheeks as she vacuumed everything out of me, leaving no drippy-droppy for my underwear to soak. Once we did our deed, I got dressed and left her bedroom door open on my way out.
At the doorstep, I met her mum and sister, who were trying to open the door with hands full of shopping bags. Needless to say, I was ‘invited’ back in, and showered with the great hospitality of a traditional Malay family. Even she, was not spared from getting dressed to entertain her ‘help’.
As uncanny as it may sound, there are indeed more leeway towards wheelchair-bound people, and their helpers in handicap toilets, considering how much uninterrupted time (and privacy) we spent in there.
It is, just that ‘tiring’ for me in there that I had to exit covered in perspiration, while she could easily use ’embarrassment’ to explain the afterglow on her face.