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Author's Note:
Stories on this site may contain fiction of an adult nature. They may contain themes involving Incest, under age sex, rape, bestiality, drugs or alcohol abuse. If these subjects make you uncomfortable please exit now. The stories are meant for the entertainment of adults as defined by your local government or society, if you are below this age please exit now. The author does not condone or encourage anyone to act in real life the way the characters depicted in this story act.
Written: 23 October 2019
A Gentle Little Story
Story Code: M/F, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism Ann, Paul's wife had looked after him hand and foot since his accident but then had an accident of her own and while Ann could look after herself, she didn't have the strength to look after Paul as well. Paul was ninety-five years old and once Ann was unable to look after him, I'd been seconded in to take over from her at their house in Newcastle. I was shocked at first when Ann told me that to help Paul shower in the mornings; I would need to be in the shower with him. Ann used to just strip off and she would wash both of them at the same time...but it was okay for her as she was his wife and was well used to being naked with him even at their advanced age. I found it very difficult the first day, I'd worn a white t-shirt and knickers as I helped Paul out of his dressing gown and put freezer bags over his hands, with bands of sticky tape around his wrists, to keep the dressings clean and dry and then helped him to step over the edge of the shower tray, the most dangerous part of getting Paul ready for his shower. Paul was relatively stable once he was on flat ground but getting into the shower was where he had fallen the first time when he had his accident that damaged his hands. At first I was totally embarrassed when I was under the shower, the cascade of water turning my t-shirt transparent and pressing the cotton tight to my body, leaving nothing to Paul's imagination as I washed him. He was hard...well as hard as a ninety-five year old man gets...well before my soapy hands got close to his cock. I even asked Ann if she was sure that she didn't want to help wash her husband's personal bits. I was left in no doubt that it was all down to me until Ann or her husband were fit enough to do it for themselves. The first time I washed Paul's cock was also the first time that I had touched an adult man's cock. I never touched John's cock...John, he's my husband and Paul's grandson...John had really serious body issues, he was staunchly anti body, I don't think he even liked touching his own body...never mind anyone else's body and he certainly didn't want them touching his. So as I soaped my hands and took a deep breath, I plunged in, taking his cock in my hands as Ann looked on, she reminded me not to forget washing under his foreskin. Strangely enough, even though Paul was ninety-five years old, I still found it mildly erotic to be washing his almost hard cock in the shower, especially as Ann was watching me doing it. But the excitement level increased when I asked Ann if she was able to dry Paul and she said that she wasn't so I was a little stuck. I could just dry Paul off and stay dressed as I was but it was too cold to stay for long in dripping wet t-shirt and knickers but I couldn't leave Paul dripping wet either while I looked after myself so I sucked it up and turned my back on Paul and Ann, pulled my t-shirt and knickers off before wrapping myself in a towel and then returned to Paul to dry him off. I had to take myself off once I'd wrapped Paul up in his dressing gown, I claimed that it was to dry myself off and get dressed but in reality, I had to look after a spot between my legs that was even wetter than the rest of my body...and I couldn't blame it on the water from the shower. It had been quite hard work at the start of my two weeks in Newcastle looking after Paul. Ron, my father-in-law had talked his own private physician into flying visit to Newcastle (virtually flying from Luton airport to Newcastle airport) just to see Paul and review his medication. The private doctor discovered that two of Paul's medications were actually making him unsteady on his feet and causing some confusion so a new medication regimen was set out for Paul. It took several days for Paul to start showing improvement after taking his new pills. After two weeks we all made the two hundred mile journey from Newcastle down to Northampton so that Paul and Ann could live with my father-in-law in the farm house in a newly created granny flat on the ground floor of the old farm house. Last Friday Paul had the dressings on his hands removed and got an appointment for his visit to the physiotherapist on Monday. I was really happy that Paul had his hands freed at last and now that he was steadier on his feet, he would be able to look after his own shower so I told Paul that Monday morning would be the last time I helped him to shower. On Tuesday morning I was at home at eight o'clock in the morning instead of walking across the field path to my father-in-law's farm. I had to get up early to kick the kids out of the house in time to catch their various school busses and then I was planning on having another hour in bed before John woke up and I'd have to get him his breakfast but before I could get back to bed, John walked in talking on his phone, it was all, "Yes dad...no dad...three bags full dad!" "Who was that on the phone darling?" "My dad!"
John was probably the smartest man I knew, he could recite the UK tax law verbatim...actually verbatim ad nauseam. And he was also an accomplished architect but when it came to sarcasm, he missed it every time. "Your father...at this time of day...he knows that you like to sleep in to nine o'clock in the mornings doesn't he?" "Yes he does but Grandpa was whining and whinging that you wouldn't be helping him to shower this morning and grandma still isn't fit enough to help him." I made John his breakfast an hour earlier than usual and all the time he bitched at me to go and shower his grandfather. As John ate his breakfast, I changed into my t-shirt and knickers that I'd worn every day to shower Paul for the last three weeks. I pulled my dressing gown on top of my t-shirt and knickers and walked over to the farm across the fields. I helped Paul out of his dressing gown and into the wet room. I dropped my dressing gown and stepped under the rainforest drench shower head with Paul, he had been told by his physiotherapist to squeeze soft balls every chance he got and as I washed his neck and chest he was palpating my breasts through my wet t-shirt rather than the small rubber balls that his therapist had given him. As I took Paul's cock in my soap covered hands to wash his cock, he pushed me into the corner of the wet-room, I could now see the door for the first time and noticed a movement, I'd been very happy to have Ann watch me as I washed her husband, even as I washed his cock for him, it just seemed 'Normalising' to have Ann there watching but the shadowy figure in the open doorway wasn't small and petite like Ann, it was taller and broader, more the shape of my father-in-law Ron. Ron had flirted with me ever since the first rime John took me to the farmhouse for dinner, he would make improper suggestions at every opportunity and when he thought no one was watching, Ron would touch me through my clothes...over the years Ron had stopped worrying if anyone was watching him or not and he would openly touch my breasts or put his hand between my thighs...always through my clothes thus far though. Whenever Ron asked me to let him fuck me I would turn him down so even after eighteen years he still hadn't touched me without my clothes in the way of his hands. I hadn't really realised until today but Paul's change of medication had actually given him a full erection, it had taken more than two weeks to clear his body of the old drugs and his increased erectile strength hadn't shown itself until today and as I took his cock in my hands he grew fully hard, he lifted the front of my wet t-shirt without saying a word, I was still rubbing his cock between my soapy hands but I was looking over at Ron as I let Paul play with my breasts out in the open. The only thing that my mind was focussed on was looking at the smile on my father-in-law's face as his father pressed me harder into the corner, forcing his hard cock and my own hands into my belly, he started kissing my breasts and now his hands were on the waistband of my knickers, he had rolled them half way down over my hips when he suddenly felt guilty or something because he stopped biting my nipples and said, "Can I take your knickers off please?" I shook my head, still looking at Ron, I'd been happy to allow Paul to do as he pleased until he asked if it was okay and suddenly...for me...it wasn't. Paul more fucked my hands than let me rub him at my own pace and because of that he was getting more friction on his cock than I had been giving him, as he closed in on his orgasm, he bent his knees and the head of his cock slipped down over my pubic mound, dragging my hands down with it. I didn't consciously open my legs or move my hands but I must have because as Paul started his ejaculation, I was holding the head of his cock against the gusset of my knickers and if my knickers hadn't been so substantial, his cock head would have been inside my vagina wrapped in cotton as he spurted his semen. Over the past three weeks I'd followed the same routine, after finishing washing Paul I'd turned my back on him and stripped off totally before wrapping my body in a towel. Even though Ron was still standing in the doorway I still stripped off and wrapped myself in a bath towel. The first time that Ron had actually seen me in the nude after trying ro get me that way for more than eighteen years.
I dried Paul off as I usually did and then helped him to get dressed, again as I usually did. I took myself off to one of the many spare bedrooms in the farmhouse and looked after myself, I dried myself before I started to rub between my legs as I ran through what Paul had done to me in my head. As I started to climax I heard the sound of the bedroom door opening, Ron was standing in the bedroom doorway watching me as I finished myself off. I pulled my dressing gown on over my naked body and picked up my wet t-shirt and knickers into a plastic carrier bag to take them home. Ron stopped me in the bedroom doorway, I expected an assault on my almost naked body but apart from the passionate kiss, there was no other inappropriate contact. I walked home across the field again, on the way out, all I'd worn were three items of clothing but on the way back I just had the one, my dressing gown. I'd given myself a finger induced orgasm after the shower and for the last three weeks that had been enough to sustain me but Ron had added another dimension to the shower and this time as I walked home I developed another fit of frustration. I saw Gregore and his brother Paulus, two of Ron's Polish farmhands working in the field that I had to walk through and as usual, they both wanted to practice their English on me. As I stood passing the time of day with the two farm workers, I saw that Ron was watching me again from the back door of his farm. It wasn't unusual for my father-in-law's staff to hold me in conversation whenever I moved between the farm and my own house but usually I'd be wearing far more clothes than just my dressing gown, the two farm hands could see just how little I was wearing because the wind in the middle of the field kept snatching at the bottom hem of my dressing gown, lifting the left hand side up as I held the right hand side in place with my free hand, several time I was exposed to my hip, showing that I wasn't wearing knickers under my gown. And why was I wearing just my dressing gown in the field...because I thought that I had finished shower duties with my husband's grandfather, I had removed my stock of clothes from Ron's house yesterday that I had left to change into after washing Paul. After the third time the front of my dressing gown flew up, only the belt around my waist stopping it exposing to my left breast, I looked to my left, over at Ron again, he was talking on his mobile phone and grinning at me. As I looked at Ron and tried to push the left side of my dressing gown back down with my left hand holding the bag of wet clothes, I heard John talking to my right, it was all, "Yes dad...no dad...three bags full dad..." again so I knew that Ron had called his son, getting him out of the house to see how I was dressed as I stood in the field and how I just stood there talking to the two middle aged Polish farm workers. Ron was always friendly when talking to the farm workers. He had worked hard to find ways to get tax free cash from the farm workers salary back to Poland. Ron always gave the East European workers the choice of high quality accommodation with lower hourly rate or cramped conditions and more money per hour so there was a two bedroom cottage on the farm that had ten men living together and a three bedroom house in the village with even more women workers living in it. Ron's staff on the farm lived in quite squalid conditions here in England but their families lived like Royalty back home in Poland or other Eastern European countries. John finished his telephone call to his father and the two farm labourers slipped into Polish, "Myślisz, że Victoria nas wykąpalaby, gdybyśmy mieli zranione ręce jak Paul?" John laughed and shook his head, "My wife only showers close family members if they are ill, not all comers!" John took my right elbow and guided me away from Gregore and Paulus, because John was gripping my right arm, I couldn't stop my dressing gown taking flight in the next gust of wind and I had to struggle to recapture my modesty with my hand full of wet clothes. "What was that all about?" John laughed again, "Well, I'm not too hot on Polish but I think that they were discussing weather you would be willing to shower them if they couldn't use their hands...they were definitely talking about you, your name was right in the middle of their conversation!"
Once we got home John said, "My dad was really happy that you went over to look after my grandfather again this morning and he told me to buy you something nice on his credit card account...anything you want." I excused myself and ran to my bedroom, I needed to masturbate all over again, I couldn't believe that I needed to do it twice in one day or that the second time that I did it my body would demand such a long, deep and powerful orgasm before it would let me go. 2,700 Words.
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