Synopsis

Tracy's mother sends her to help an injured man with his chores...and spends more time lifting his morale.

My Helper

by obohobo

Warnings

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only. 

MF Rom

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now. 

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies.  In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation. 

(C) obohobo 2011

"Mum sent me to see if you needed any help and she gave me a dinner to heat up for you."

Depressed and annoyed at having to move from my chair, I'd hobbled painfully to the door when the bell rang and struggled to open it, half expecting, half hoping the visitor would be gone by the time I got there, and stared with some surprise at the girl, well young woman, who greeted me. "Who are you?" I asked.

"Tracy Kerringham, most people call me Trace. Aren't you going to let me in so I can heat this up?"

I shuffled to one side and awkwardly closed the door. "Should I know you or your mother?"

"Probably not, we live next door to Kathleen Durrant who works in Maxim Engineering's office and she told us about your difficulties after the accident and Mum said you might need some help and said that I wasn't doing anything this afternoon so I should get my arse over here and offer to do a few chores and cook you a meal."

"Thank you and her, but I can manage."

"From the way you're hobbling along, it looks like you find it difficult."

"A bit. I'm Michael Boothe, Mike."

"Yeah, I know. We read about the accident in the paper, or their version of it. Is that blue thing a straightjacket they've put on you so you're not a threat to girls like me?"

I smiled, "No, it's a spica cast. Both my clavicles, my shoulder blades, and some of my ribs were broken in a number of places and they had to put pins and bolts in to hold the pieces together and then they put this plastic cast around my body and upper arms so they wouldn't move while the fractures set."

"That sure makes it difficult for you to do things, no wonder Mum sent me over but why don't you hire a maid?"

"A supervisor at Maxim's doesn't get paid all that much more than other workers on the site. Did you expect me to hire you?"

"Well I haven't been able to get a job and the chances of my getting one are pretty slim, but Mum said not to accept any money."

"And she pushed you to doing this even if you are not keen?"

"Yeah, but I thought you'd be an old fart but you ain't that old really are you?"

"Hell no, I'm not even thirty yet but the back pain makes me walk like an old man. What about you? Left school recently?"

"I'm over twenty and trying to do a college course because I can't get a job without qualifications but the work's too difficult. Heh, what's with the skirt?"

"It's a kilt."

"Are you scotch?"

"No, scotch is a drink, if you mean Scottish, no, but it's more convenient than trousers. How'd you think you'd get on pulling up your knickers with your arms bound?"

"So are you like a true Scotsman and have nothing underneath?" Tracy laughed.

"That's something I'll keep to myself." I'd begun to like the inquisitive girl and although it pained me, laughed too for the first time for ages. "Did you come here to actually help or just to gossip?"

"Yeah, but cheering you up is part of the service. I'll pop your dinner in the oven and make a pot of tea and later on, worry about cleaning this place up a bit."

Actually she surprised me by her caring attitude. When she saw the difficulty I had in lowering myself into a chair without using my arms, she came and helped by clasping me around the cast and expressed her concern as to whether she hurt me. Her questioning started again when we sat drinking the tea. "How'd it happen?"

"A young lad driving a forklift truck carrying a load of scaffold poles in a sling, swerved to avoid a marker in the site and the end of the poles hit a wall and swung them round and the other end caught me across the shoulders. He drove the forklift pretty fast so they hit me hard and knocked me down. The health and safety rep warned him about moving scaffold poles on sling only a few days before but he didn't take any notice so I guess they've sacked him now. The unions are on my case for compensation but they may take years to settle and will wait to see what permanent damage has been done. Is the meal ready yet or are you going to do a King Alfred and let it burn?"

"Nope, just making sure it's properly heated through but I could turn the gas up and make black pudding of it."

Again she showed her thoughtfulness when she assisted me to sit at the table and served the meal. I felt a bit mean eating in front of her but she'd only brought enough for one. It didn't worry her and we chatted away until after she'd cleared up and I tried to walk to the toilet. By then tiredness after being up all afternoon began to take over and I stumbled and she held me. "I guess I get to see if you have anything under that kilt now," she laughed as she guided me to the loo, "Do you need to sit or just pee?" and when I indicated the need to pee, she lifted the kilt, took hold of my prick and waited while I performed. Of course it started to harden when she shook it and gave it a few rubs and commented, "Nice one, looks as if it still works. Now let's get you to bed and I'd better get back home before mother comes to check on me and finds I haven't got the place tidied up." 

She saw everything I had when, without any signs of embarrassment, she removed my kilt and put on my shorts, in fact she played with my prick more than necessary and I found her attention most enjoyable, or would have done had I been fit and able. Not since Debra left two months previously had a girl seen my prick and she never touched it. "You don't have to do this Trace," I protested, "The Social Services carer will be in later to do it," but my protest went unheeded and I think she enjoyed playing as much as I did.

Next morning, a Saturday, she turned up with Betty, her mother. "Doesn't look as though my daughter did much housework yesterday," Betty commented when I showed them in the lounge.

"No, but more importantly, she improved my morale and thanks to you, and her, the meal I had was far superior to whatever I would have microwaved," I answered not wanting to get Trace in trouble.

"What you mean is, she sat talking for most of the time." She grinned and went on, "I brought the car, are you fit enough for a trip to the supermarket and anywhere else you need to go?"

"Can I drive, Mum?"

"No, if his skirt rides up over his knee, you'll get distracted and not watch the road," Betty teased but in the end relented and I sat in the front alongside her. Betty in the back seat several times told her to watch the road but it was all in fun and I quickly learned where Tracy inherited her teasing.

She pushed me around the supermarket in a wheelchair. I can walk but my back gets painful after a while and I'm rather slow and with the Saturday crowd jostling in the aisles, she decided it would be quicker and safer for me to use the chair and with my blue spica cast, I really looked an invalid. We avoided the ready-made meals section and bought fresh, `proper' foods. "If I'm looking after you, we'll eat properly and not junk food,' she told me and it seemed that, by default, she would take over being my helper full time. I wasn't about to complain as I enjoyed her company but I found there was a price to pay. "If I'm going to help you, you can help me with my college work, that is if your space suit hasn't addled your brain," she commented.

After lunch while she tidied the lounge, I had a look at her work sheets and didn't find much difficulty in the work, and, with a little revision from the textbooks I'd used in college, I thought I could cope. However, by mid afternoon I became too tired to continue without a sleep and fell into bed and dozed only to be woken an hour later by a naked Tracy crawling in alongside me. Her hands quickly found my prick and massaged it to full hardness. "Would you like a blowjob?" she asked. How could I refuse? One thing led to another and I brought her to a climax using my tongue on her clit. We did study some of her college assignments and I tried to explain the methods of working rather than doing the problems for her.

Over the next few days, when she wasn't at college, we progressed from hand and blowjobs to full intercourse but with her taking the top position, which we both found enjoyable although I looked forward to the day when we could fuck like a normal couple.

Our relationship flourished until on a Thursday afternoon a fortnight later, we were cuddling on the settee, half studying, half playing, when the door burst open and Debra stormed in, "I heard that little bastard Kerringham slut who doesn't even have a father, had moved in and just like her mother, free and easy with any man and now it looks as if she's setting her fangs into you. Well she can get the hell out of here, I can look after you without the need for sex. Get out bitch and leave my boyfriend alone." The outburst left me flabbergasted for a few seconds because our relationship had never been good although I went out with her for a few months but she left when I said I couldn't afford to keep taking her to the restaurants and theatres she wished to visit.

Meanwhile, crying Tracy grabbed her coat and ran for the door. I called after her and but before I could get near, she slammed the door. Furious, I turned on Debra and ordered her to leave. "That girl has more love in her than you will ever have, you're the one who is out of place here so you can turn around and go back to where you've been and who you've been with for the last two months. If I ever see your face again it will be too soon. Leave my key on the table." Only when I threatened to call the police, did she leave.

I phoned Tracy but got the answerphone and left messages, Betty answered later but said Tracy wouldn't speak to me and wouldn't be helping me again. I think she understood and wanted to help but said Tracy was adamant that she never wished to see me again.

That night I lay awake for a long while going over the events and praying that Tracy would relent and come to see me; her coursework lay on the table so she'd have an excuse but although I waited all day Friday and sat hopefully by the window, she didn't come. By Saturday afternoon, I knew I'd have to take the initiative; I'd have to go and see her. "I should be able to walk that far now," I told myself, but when I started out with a coat, cloak-like around my shoulders to protect me from the keen wind, I decided to detour via the supermarket to buy some flowers and in doing so, almost doubled the length of the journey. Exhausted, I rang the bell and Betty came to the door.

"Oh my God, Mike, you look awful. Sorry, you look about done in. Come inside, Tracy's out supposedly she's gone to a disco but I think she's looking for somewhere to escape to stop thinking about you." While she made me a hot drink and a sandwich, I tried to explain that Debra probably saw the item in the paper where an exaggerated claim for damages was being put in on my behalf. 

With tears threatening to run down my cheeks, I explained my relationship with Debra and what she's said. "Some of what she said is true, Mike," Betty answered, "In my younger days, I had many boy friends and had sex fairly frequently although not as often as the stories suggested. I went to parties and, although I took precautions, something went amiss and I became pregnant with Tracy but I didn't know who was the father and didn't really want to know and in those days DNA testing was in its infancy and expensive, so I didn't bother. Since then the only man I could have lived with, had an invalid wife he felt obliged to stay with. Mother helped look after Tracy and I continued to work to keep us. Since she became old enough to leave, I've had several relationships but nothing lasted. I guess Trace takes after me in that she needs a man around her and I've done nothing to discourage that but made sure she took precautions and didn't get herself preggers. You were the first one she seemed to have more than a passing affection for, so I'd hopes for you to continue to be together. I don't think all is lost yet..." She paused and looked at me with a strange expression on her face.

By then I'd finished the drink and when tiredness made my eyes difficult to keep open, Betty smiled and said, "Can you make it up the stairs Mike? I think you need somewhere to sleep." Her smile turned to a grin when she led me into Tracy's room and helped me undress and get into her bed. I prayed she knew what she was doing and this wouldn't end in a fight.

For a while I tried to keep awake but the sleepless nights and the long, painful walk took its toll and I only woke when I heard Tracy's voice, "What the hell is going on, Mum? Why is he here?"

"Get into bed with him and find out. You need to talk but for now a cuddle may be all that is needed and all he's capable of. He's knackered and sore from walking to the supermarket to get flowers for you and then walked all the way here. I sent that other boy away; you don't need him like you need Mike. Get undressed and get in with him and sort your problems out." With a little more persuasion from Betty, she climbed in and when she started crying, I struggled to get close and cuddled her as best as I could. We didn't talk until the morning and then not until we'd made love.

Three months later and we are still together, living together now. The spica cast came off after a month and I'm back at work although not fully fit, I can do most things including being on top when we make love, which we do very regularly. Trace continues with the college course and is doing quite well even if she is not an A student. The insurance claim drags slowly on and we joke that I will be an old age pensioner before it is settled, but we make do on my pay and Trace doesn't demand to be taken to expensive places. Most Sundays we visit Betty's for a meal but we return the favour about once a month. Life has now become a routine of living as a loving couple and while I wouldn't thank Roy Colby for causing the accident, I did go into Maxim's office and thank Kathleen Durrant for suggesting to her neighbour that I needed some help, help that brought Tracy into my life, and me into hers.

Finis

