Tuesday, May 21, 2024
Mom & Daughter chapter 3
Mom & Daughter
Chapter 3
From Mom POV
"Sarah! How about a little adventure tomorrow?" She asked me 2 days ago.
Diana's enthusiasm is contagious, "I've heard about this fabulous new restaurant called La Fine Bouche. It's supposed to be a culinary delight. Shall we give it a try?" I smile, knowing that any outing with Diana promises to be an unforgettable experience.
"Count me in!"
Later on that day, after a quick wardrobe deliberation, I opt for a classic ensemble, black high heel stiletto pumps for a touch of elegance, a crisp white blouse for sophistication, and a sleek pencil skirt that accentuates my figure for pure sexiness. It's a combination that never fails to make me feel good and confident.
As I finish getting ready for our outing to La Fine Bouche, there's a knock on my bedroom door. I turn to see Hannah, my beautiful daughter, standing there with her crutches, her sprained ankle wrapped securely.
"Hey, Mom," Hannah says with a warm smile, her eyes flickering with admiration. "You look really good."
"Thank you, sweetheart,"
Hannah hobbles closer on her crutches, the bandage on her ankle a reminder of her recent opening. "Are you excited about dinner tonight?" resting her bandaged ankle on top of her other foot while I'm adjusting my high heel pumps on my feet.
"I am. It'll be nice to try out a new restaurant. How's your ankle?" Hannah leans in closer, her eyes twinkling with sensual excitement and kisses not my cheek but my lips. "I"m good... for now mom,"
Diana arrives at my doorstep, her vibrant energy filling the air. With a quick kiss on the cheek and exchange of pleasantries, we make our way to La Fine Bouche. As I prepare to transfer from the car to my wheelchair, I follow a familiar routine that has become second nature to me over the years. Diana stands by, offering a helping hand if needed. I open the car door and swing my long legs out, letting them dangle slightly before firmly planting my feet on the ground. Using the car door for support, I lift myself up, shifting my weight onto my arms as I pivot to face my wheelchair.
"My dear Sarah, you make that look so effortless," Diana remarks with admiration.
"Years of practice and determination."
With a smooth transition, I settle into my wheelchair, feeling the familiar embrace of its contours. Diana assists by adjusting the footrests and ensuring that everything is in place for our next destination. As we make our way to the fancy restaurant, I sit with confidence in my wheelchair. I navigate through the crowd with ease, my surroundings a familiar backdrop to my daily life.
Upon arriving inside the restaurant, I noticed the owner, Dave, a part-time restaurateur and professional EMT specialist, observing me with a curious gaze. Diana introduces us with warmth and charm.
"Sarah, meet Dave. He's not just the owner of this fabulous restaurant; he's also a professional EMT specialist in our town," Diana says, gesturing towards Dave with a smile.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Sarah, welcome to my restaurant" Dave says, extending a hand in greeting. "I couldn't help but admire your grace as you wheel in. It's not every day we have such a sexy woman wheeling around the restaurant."
"Thank you for full accessibility to your restaurant, with these limited legs" I say sliding my fingers along my pantyhose covered legs, "Whether I'm in my wheelchair or full leg braces and crutches I need ramps"
"Miss I would say from all the people staring at you...there is nothing wrong with your lovely legs" He said looking at my high heels and legs.
I thank Dave for his kind words, appreciating his genuine interest and respectful approach. Little do I know at this moment that our encounter will mark the beginning of a unique relationship, one filled with unexpected twists and turns that will bring us to the edges of fetishes, like we never imagined before.
As I settle into my seat at the restaurant, I can't help but notice Dave's lingering gaze. His eyes seem drawn to my legs and the design of my wheelchair. Midway through our conversation, a moment of pure luck (or perhaps fate) intervenes. While moving my crippled left leg with my hands, the left heel slips off my foot, tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. Before I can react, Dave's reflexes kick in, and he almost runs to pick up the fallen heel.
"Oh, let me get that for you," Dave says looking at my foot and lower leg, his tone filled with clear excitement. He retrieved the heel from the floor, the beauty of my Louboutin high heel shoe in his hands was a sight with my foot dangling off the footrest.
"You know that the colour red under my shoe symbolizes love, passion, and sexual empowerment to me, the stiletto heels don't resonates against the floor in my case but it still allows them to defy societal norms for a mature woman, that is partly paralyze in a wheelchair." I said, smiling at him.
"I love caressing the leather of ladies high heel shoes with these dangerous stiletto heels. Your legs look perfect with these forbidden shoes."
With gentle hands, Dave delicately lifts my leg, cradling my foot with care as he places the shoe back on my foot. His touch is very intimate, each movement calculated and precise. As he adjusts the shoe, his fingers brush against my ankle and calf, sending a tingling sensation through my skin. The red sole of the heel gleams under the light. I feel a subtle connection between us, a connection I haven't felt with men for a very long time..
"Thank you, Dave," I say, touched by his chivalrous gesture.
Diana, ever the observant friend, offers a knowing smile, sensing the unspoken sexual chemistry between us. She continues the conversation seamlessly, allowing Dave and me to exchange glances filled with unspoken understanding. In that moment, as Dave's eyes meet mine again, I sense a sexual attraction to me, my broken legs over the years, my wheelchair. It's a moment that lingers in the air, hinting at possibilities yet to unfold like when I met ladies over the years of all ages using crutches and in a leg cast. Potential for so much more then and now. I wanton to know everything about the reasons for the casts.
As the evening progresses, I find myself drawn to Dave's genuine warmth and attentive nature to all his clients. The conversations flow effortlessly but with me I feel that it's touching on shared interests and life experiences. I'm a romantic. Can this chance encounter, marked by a fallen heel and a romantic gesture, set the stage for friendship, and perhaps even love?
As we prepare to leave La Fine Bouche, Dave approaches our table with a warm smile. "I hope you both had a delightful evening. It was a pleasure having you here," he says, his tone genuine.
"We did indeed, Dave. Thank you for the wonderful experience," Diana responds, her smile mirroring his warmth. I nod in agreement.
As we roll out of the restaurant, I can't help but notice Dave's gaze once again. There's something about the way he looks at me, admiration for sure but perhaps something more that I can't quite pinpoint or maybe I don't want to admit.
In that moment, I realize how much I enjoy being seen as a sexy, lovely, crippled woman in my wheelchair, basking in Dave's gaze. It's not merely about sensual attraction; it's about feeling truly seen and understood, beyond the external appearance.
Yet, a lingering question remains in my mind: would Dave still see me the same way if he knew the circumstances that led to me using this wheelchair? Would he accept me, if he knew how often I needed to feel a breaking bone, a stress fracture or a sprain? leaving me curious about what the future may bring.
Little did I know that my daughter's acceptance of her sexual fetish, an attraction to being on crutches injured or not in her case, would intertwine with Dave's presence in a dance of fate. She's a charming young woman, her lovely physique magnified when gracefully moving on her crutches non weight bearing. How much she's changes from her days running on the field.
Chapter 4
To come
K
Monday, May 20, 2024
Sunday, May 19, 2024
Mom & Daughter chapter 2
Mom & Daughter
Chapter 2
From Hannah POV
I'm Hannah, Sarah's daughter, I'm a tall brunette and today has been one of those days. As I stand by the door, watching the clock tick by since I forgot my mom's house key, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within me.
Mom's usual return time from work draws near, and I'm eagerly anticipating her arrival. It's not just about seeing her; it's about seeking her comforting presence, especially after the argument I had with my husband earlier. OK it wasn't an argument but a fight. We've only been married a year and I think he is cheating on me with his office assistant.
The tension from the disagreement still lingers in the air, weighing heavily on my mind. I don't know who sent me the photos of the two of them but I need a break, a moment for me from the chaos of daily married life and the strain in my relationship with him. Mom has always been my rock, the one I turn to for guidance, understanding and acceptance.
As I hear the familiar sound of the door opening, my heart skips a beat. Mom enters in her wheelchair rolling towards me. Her presence alone brings a sense of calmness to the room, a reassuring reminder that everything will be okay.
"Hey, Mom," I greet her with a smile, walk to her and kiss her on the cheek trying to mask the turmoil brewing inside me.
"Hey, sweetheart," Mom responds, her eyes filled with concern as she takes in my body language. We exchange a knowing look, a silent understanding passing between us. Without needing to say a word, Mom knows that I need her, her listening ear, and her presence.
We settle into the living room, I watch in admiration as Mom gracefully prepares to transfer from her wheelchair to the couch similar to what she did from her crutches when she was in a cast when I was still at home. Despite her weak and sexy legs she manages to get on the couch with only minor trouble. She swings her legs and then uses her strong arms to pull herself on the couch.
I find myself opening up to Mom about the argument with my husband, the frustrations, and the need for a "break". Her words of wisdom and empathy wash over me, soothing the storm of emotions within me inside her strong embrace. As Mom and I sit in the living room, sharing, I realise how tired I am. The weight of the fight with my husband and the stress of my daily life have taken their toll. With a sigh, I gently interrupt our conversation.
"Mom, I'm really tired. I think I'll go to my room and rest for a bit," I say, my voice tinged with weariness.
Mom nods understandingly, "Of course, sweetheart. Take all the time you need. We can chat more tomorrow."
With a grateful smile, I make my way to my room, keeping the door partly open behind me. The familiar comfort of my personal space envelops me right away, offering a sanctuary from the outside world. It is like mom's leg casts protected her broken limbs years ago. As I settle onto my bed, my thoughts drift to the box tucked away in the corner of my old closet. Inside are a few ace bandages and air cast that are left over of a past fascination that I've kept hidden from everyone, even Mom.
I've never broken a bone but I've always been intrigued by medical accessories, much like Mom's love for casts, crutches and now her sexy wheelchairs. There's something oddly comforting about the texture of ace bandages on your sprained ankle, the way it wraps snugly around the injured limbs, offering support and stability.
I unwrap one of the bandages, running my fingers along the fabric as memories flood back. I remember the first time I found Mom's collection of ace bandages, casts and crutches, hidden away in the attic and in her bedroom. It sparked a curiosity within me, a fascination about the stories they hold both medical, recreational and sexual.
With gentle movements like if I was injured, I position the air-cast around my ankle, ensuring that it fits snugly but comfortably. The soft padding inside provides a cushioning effect. Securing the straps of the air-cast, I adjust them to the perfect fit, making sure that my ankle was well-supported.
As I carefully wrap the ace bandage over the air cast and around my left foot, ankle, and lower leg, a wave of sexual pleasure washes over me, between my legs. The fabric's gentle embrace feels familiar, like the comforting hug from Mom earlier, the feel of her partly crippled but sexy long legs.
With each loop of the bandage, I feel a sense of connection deepen. As the bandage snugly secures my lower limb, It's not just about the physical support; it's about the pure sensual connection that comes with it. The soft texture of the bandage against my skin reminds me of my beautiful, tall Mom on her crutches..
I hear the rhythmic sound of Mom's wheelchair drawing closer to my door. It's a familiar sound as she pauses outside my room, looking in the crack, the opening, I sense her presence, her silent support enveloping me like a warm embrace. I imagine Mom looking in, her eyes filled with admiration and attraction. She sees me, wrapped in the ace bandage, and I can almost feel her acceptance radiating through the door. I think she finally knows the significance of this act, the unspoken action that I need more, so much more.
I love the way it feels to slide my bandage lower leg and foot against my other leg, something I never admitted to anyone. I slowly massage the bandage and air cast, sliding my long fingers up and down my legs, pulling them apart... Because of my actions I hear a soft moan from mom sitting in her wheelchair outside my door.
As I reach for my vagina I can feel the heat and wetness. I imagine being kissed inside my thighs. Lightly kissing my shaven vulva. "Oh god..." I slide my fingers in closer and closer to my clitoris. I'm so turned on, moving my hips in earnest, humping, pushing my fingers faster and faster. I can tell that I'm so close to my orgasm. I kept at it, finger against my clit, I lifted my ass right off the bed, arching my back putting pressure and weight against my recreational injured ankle.
"Ohhhhhh, my ankleeeee, oh god!" I moan. "Oh god. Mom" Struggling to catch my breath,from a powerful and amazing orgasm, I listen to mom wheelchair roll back to her bedroom.
The next morning, as I slowly awaken to the gentle rays of morning light filtering through the curtains, my gaze falls upon a pair of aluminium crutches standing beside my bed. Mom must have placed them there while I slept, a silent gesture of support and understanding. The sight of the crutches stirs sexual emotions within me with gratitude for Mom's thoughtfulness and a sense of determination to face the days and possible weeks ahead.
I reach out and run my fingers along the smooth surface of the crutches, feeling their sturdy build and the promise of mobility and sexual pleasure they offer. With a deep breath, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my eyes fixed on my left lower leg and ankle still wrapped and protected in my air cast.
Carefully, I stand up, using the crutches for support keeping my left knee bent. The familiar sensation of the handles in my palms brings a sense of determination. With each step, I grow more accustomed to the rhythm of the crutches, their metallic clang echoing softly in the room. As I gingerly make my way towards the living room, I can't help but feel a surge of love and gratitude. Mom's silent gesture speaks volumes, reminding me that I'm not alone with these sexual fetishes.
As I enter the living room, I notice Mom sitting in her favourite chair. She's dressed comfortably in yoga pants and a loose-fitting top, laptop on her lap. Her eyes light up as she sees me on my crutches. Her wheelchair sits beside her, its sleek design complementing the peaceful atmosphere of the room. Mom's relaxed posture and gentle smile welcome me to this new world.
I take a moment to admire her, the way her hair falls in soft waves around her face, the way her eyes sparkle with affection. Despite the challenges she faces, she's calm and graceful.
With a smile of my own, I greet her. "Good morning, Mom. Thank you for the crutches. They're really helping, since I can't really put any weight on my sprained ankle" I say, gratitude filling my voice.
Mom's looks at me, I'm leaning lightly on the crutches like a pro. "I knew they would come in handy. How are you feeling today? How's the ankle?" she asks, her excitement to this play evident in her voice.
"I'm doing okay. It feels good to be up and moving on crutches" I reply, taking a few cautious steps with the crutches.
Mom nods, her eyes following my movements, my legs I know she likes. "You're doing great, Hannah. I'm proud of you," I pause, looking back at Mom. "Thanks, Mom. Your support to this new opening means a lot to me," I say, feeling a lump form in my throat.
Mom smiles and slowly transfers to her wheelchair, a silent understanding passing between us when she rolls closer to me. At that moment, as I stand on the crutches with Mom in her wheelchair beside me, I feel an intense sexual excitement when she leans down and grabs my wrapped ankle and lower leg in her hand and places my injured ankle on her lap.
I feel at that moment that I can face any challenges coming my way.
She gently runs her fingers along the wrapped bandage. "I think it's time to take a look at this injured ankle," Mom says softly.
Mom begins to carefully unwrap the ace bandage from my ankle and lower leg. Each layer peels away, revealing the small air-cast underneath. As the bandage comes off, I feel a sense of relief, the pressure and tightness easing away. Once the bandage is removed, Mom turns her attention to the air-cast. With careful precision, she unfastens the straps and gently lifts the air-cast off my ankle. Then she leans over my foot and ankle and kisses it, I feel her wet lips on my ankle. Her hands slightly bending my ankle.
"I'll always be here for you, sweetheart. No matter if your ankle is sprained or if we discover a break with the Xrays " she says, her eyes conveying a depth of love for my new situation and injury wondering how far I will go. Wondering how far she will go, sweet mom.
Chapter 3
To come
K
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