Thursday, May 23, 2024
Mom & Daughter chapter 4
Mom & Daughter
Chapter 4
From Mom POV
As I navigate my house in my wheelchair, I usually have a smooth routine for transfers. However, today was different. As I attempted to transfer from my wheelchair to the couch, something went very wrong. I positioned myself carefully, ensuring that the wheelchair was secure but forgot to lock it in place.
As I lifted myself up, placed my high heel shoes down, my hand slipped on the edge of the couch, causing me to lose my balance. Panic surged through me as I felt myself tipping forward. In that split second, I tried to regain control, but it was too late. I toppled over, landing awkwardly on the floor. Pain shot through my right wrist as I hit the hard surface. I cursed under my breath, frustrated at my own mistake. How could I have let this happen?
As I found myself on the floor after the failed transfer, a surge of frustration and helplessness washed over me. I watched in disbelief as my wheelchair, now unoccupied, began to slowly roll away from me in the living room to the hallway.
The sight was surreal, I almost laughed. It was almost like a scene from a horror movie playing out in front of me where the crippled woman fell off her chair before being killed by an axe. I reached out instinctively, trying to grab it, to stop the wheelchair's movement. But my efforts were in vain as the distance between us widened.
For the first time in the last few weeks, with each inch the wheelchair rolled away, a sense of vulnerability crept in. It wasn't just vulnerability, it was also about the sexual surge I felt losing control of my mobility aid; it was a stark reminder of the pleasure I felt faced daily with my legs, the constant threat of fractures, setbacks and months in casts.
I turned on my front and I slid along the hardwood floor towards my wheelchair, I felt a mix of strength and pleasure. With each movement, I could feel the rough texture of the floor beneath me against my fully erected nipples. I used my arms to propel myself forward, inching closer to my wheelchair with each slide. It was a slow process, but I refused to give up.
As I neared my wheelchair, I reached out with one hand, grasping the armrest firmly. With a final push, I pulled myself up, using the wheelchair as leverage, leaning against it, catching my breath after the challenging experience, my mind wandered to Dave. He was such a nice and caring man, always ready to lend a helping hand. I couldn't help it. I wonder if he would have been turned on sexually to see me crawling along the floor in a pencil skirt, tight fitting blouse, pantyhose and 4 inch heels..
There was something about him that brought a sense of comfort and ease. The way he had rushed to pick up my fallen heel earlier that week, the concern in his eyes and the pure lust when he grabbed my crippled foot in his hand to reposition my shoe, it all spoke volumes about his character.
I found myself smiling at the thought of spending more time with Dave, getting to know him better outside of our usual interactions. Maybe a casual coffee date could be a nice way to start. But in reality I wanted him to give me a sponge bath,to carefully wash my toes, feet and legs. I could be wrong but I think he likes that I'm broken and crippled. I want him to see that I might be paralyzed, but I'm a modern, sexy woman with a great body shape.
As I straightened up in my wheelchair, I made a mental note to keep an eye out for any opportunities to connect with Dave. Who knows, maybe this unexpected mishap would turn out to be the beginning of something new and exciting.
The act of crawling along the floor, reminded me of a time when I was hit by a car and left with both legs broken beside the road. While thinking of this I slid my hand between my legs and rubbed myself very softly. The wetness just flowed onto my panties and fingers. I remembered the feeling of helplessness and fear as I lay there alone, unable to move, reaching out desperately for my phone to call 911.
With a deep breath after my orgasm died down, I focused on the task at hand: getting back into my wheelchair safely. I first made sure to lock the brakes of the wheelchair, next, I positioned myself strategically, placing one hand on the armrest of the wheelchair and the other on the edge of the couch for support. I shifted my weight carefully, testing my balance before committing to the transfer. With a steady push, I lifted myself up slightly, using my upper body strength to guide myself into the seat of the wheelchair.
While thinking of the months in leg casts after being hit by the car, my thoughts turned to Hannah and her recent injury and using her crutches. I couldn't help but feel something new from the challenges she was facing with her recreational sprained ankle and reliance on crutches.
I recalled the sexual interest in her eyes as she wrapped her ankle and navigated the house on her crutches, her ankle wrapped securely to support the sprain. I wheeled into Hannah's room, my heart swelled with curiosity, she was deep asleep. I could see her injured ankle so lovely, wrapped securely in bandages with exposed toes, propped up on a pillow for elevation. Her crutches are leaning against the wall nearby.
The bandages around her ankle were pristine white, expertly wrapped to provide support and stability. For a second I imagined that I saw a huge bulge on the side of her broken and dislocated ankle where the fracture occurred, in my mind both her tibia and fibula were broken. So beautiful.
"Mom?"
"Hey, sweetheart," wheeling closer to her bedside. "How does the ankle feel?"
Hannah sighed, adjusting her position slightly. "It's okay, sore," she played alone so well.
I reached out to gently touch the bandages, her foot and lovely legs. "Do you need anything?" I asked while rubbing her lower leg, foot and cute exposed toes.
Hannah shook her head and stared at my fingers. "No, I'm good." she replied, she remained in control of her story.
"Maybe tomorrow I will take you for Xrays"
"Thanks, Mom. I'm sure it's just a bad sprain. I'll be back on my feet in no time," I leaned over to kiss her cheek but she took hold of my face and kissed my lips.
Leaving Hannah's room, the realization that Hannah shared some of my fetishes was totally intriguing . It brought up a wave of sexual complexity that I hadn't anticipated. On one hand, there was a connection, knowing that we had something unique in common. It was a rare bond that added depth to our relationship and sparked a curiosity about how much we truly shared, how far she would go to act on her fetish.
Should I acknowledge this shared interest with Hannah? Or should I leave it as a surprise, allowing her the space to explore and discover her own preferences sexually related to her need to be on crutches without any influence from me?
I wondered about these questions as I navigated through the house in my wheelchair. Part of me wanted to open up and have a candid conversation with Hannah about our shared fetishes, to bond over something so personal and intimate. But another part of me hesitated, unsure of how she would react or if she was ready to have such a conversation.
Leaving it as a surprise respected Hannah's privacy and allowed her the space to explore and understand without feeling pressured or influenced...
But I did have a plan...
Chapter 5
To come
K
Wednesday, May 22, 2024
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)