Fetish and Fiction: My stories and video clips

eyond the Movie Script

Chapter 7

God she was so beautiful in her... medical... cast.

"But what do I call you? Stephanie, Mom or mistress Steffie? You don't have to answer right away"

Over the next few days, we met up again, always finding excuses to touch and tease each other. One evening, we found ourselves in her apartment, the air thick with anticipation.

"Let's start with something simple," she suggested leaning on her crutches, her voice a low purr as she guided me to her bedroom. I sat down on her bed, propping my cast up.

Serena joined me, her fingers tracing my cast again, this time with more sexual intention.

"Just relax," she whispered, her breath warm against my skin.

I closed my eyes, feeling her fingers move to the hem of my skirt. She slowly pulled it up, revealing the edge of my cast and the part of my thigh that was bare. I felt a soft kiss, followed by the gentle touch of her tongue. My breath hitched as she licked her way up my exposed thigh, her touch light and teasing.

"Serena, how did you know?" I whispered, my voice filled with desire.

She looked up at me, her eyes dark with want and sexual need. "Shh, just let me take care of you," she said before continuing her slow ascent.

When she reached the edge of my panties, she hooked her fingers into the fabric and slowly pulled them down along my black cast. I lifted my hips, helping her, my heart pounding in my chest. She threw the panties aside and leaned in, her breath hot on my most sensitive area. I gasped as her tongue made contact, her touch soft and gentle at first, then growing more insistent.

"Oh, God," I moaned, my fingers tangling in her hair as she brought me closer and closer to the edge.

Just as I was about to come, she stopped, her tongue replacing her fingers as she continued to tease me.

"Please," I begged, my hips bucking against her mouth.

Serena looked up at me, her lips glistening. "Please what?" she asked, a playful smirk on her face.

"Please, let me come," I pleaded, my voice desperate.

"You didn't really break your leg" Serena grinned and returned her attention to my clit. Between her words, her tongue moved faster and faster until I was crying out, my body convulsing with pure pleasure.

"Oh god Dominique..."

"Who's Dominique?"

As I came down from my high, Serena stood up on her good leg, a wicked look in her eyes.

"Now it's your turn to take care of me," she said, wiggling out of her skirt. I watched, my breath still ragged, as she slid her fingers into her panties and pulled them off, revealing that was totally shaved. She sat down on the bed next to me, her hand moving to stroke herself.

"Come here," she said, her voice a low command.

I moved closer, our casts together as I wrapped my arm around her, my hand moving to cup her breast. She moaned, her head falling back as I began to tease her flesh, my thumb circling her hard nipple.

Serena's hand moved faster between her legs, her breath coming in short gasps. I leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss, my tongue exploring her mouth as I continued to play with her firm breast.

She broke away from the kiss, her eyes locked on mine as she brought herself closer to the edge. I could feel the tension in her body, could see the pleasure on her face as she came, her body shuddering against mine. It was like she knew about one of my secret sexual fetishes to watch sexy women masturbate like she was doing beside me.

As she came down from her high, she leaned into me, her lips finding mine in a soft, gentle kiss.

"That was... incredible," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder.

I smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over me. "And we're just getting started."

I moved into the classic 69 position, our bodies entwined as we pleasured each other with our mouths. The sensation of her tongue on my clitoris as I licked her was almost too much to bear, and I came with a cry, her name on my lips.

As we lay there, our bodies still entwined, I knew that this was just the beginning.

The next day, the tension in the air was palpable as Serena and I arrived at the towering skyscraper that housed the law firm defending the director. As we approached the glass entrance, both of us on crutches, I felt a sense of solidarity between us, two women, each in a long leg cast, ready to face the wolves.

Inside, we were greeted by sleek, polished marble floors and towering walls of glass that reflected the bustling world of high-powered attorneys. I glanced at Serena, her determination mirrored in her eyes. She looked stunning in her professional attire, with the white fibreglass cast that immobilized her right leg. The boldness of her look, fitted black pencil skirt, crisp white blouse while leaning on her crutches made her so desirable. Her black high heel was elegant on her good foot, while her cast added a striking visual, peeking just below her hemline.

I, too, felt the eyes on me as we made our way to the boardroom. My own black cast felt like a sexy distraction now, my tailored blazer cinched perfectly at the waist, the deep burgundy blouse underneath giving me an air of confidence. The pencil skirt I wore fit snugly over my hips, but the fabric elegantly draped around the curve and shape of my cast, making no attempt to hide it.

As we crutched our way through the sprawling office, heads turned. People paused mid-conversation, their eyes drawn to us, some with curiosity, others with surprise, and a few with blatant stares. I could feel the weight of some sexual judgement, so I squared my shoulders and focused on each step. The rhythmic click of our crutches filled the silence, echoing through the long hallway as if to announce our arrival.

In one phrase our new look said "don't fuck with us."

When we reached the conference room, a large set of double doors loomed ahead. A nice lady pushed one open while we entered. The room was expansive, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. A long mahogany table stretched across the centre, surrounded by sleek leather chairs. Already seated at the far end were the director's defence team, their perfectly pressed suits and smug expressions radiating confidence.

Their eyes flicked up as we made our entrance, and for a brief moment, the room went still. There was no hiding their surprise. Two women, each on crutches with full leg casts, walking into the lion's den, this was not what they expected.

I held their gaze, refusing to back down, as Serena did the same. We moved on our crutches with grace, despite the slight awkwardness of the situation, and made our way to our side of the table. As I sat down, adjusting the positioning of my leg to rest comfortably with the long cast, I noticed the brief, yet unmistakable exchange of glances between the lawyers across the table. You just wait your pricks.

The movie director, a sharp-looking man in a perfectly tailored navy suit, leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, this is certainly an... unexpected turn of events," he said, his voice smooth but laced with condescension.

"Quite the matching set of injuries."

Serena shot him a look that could break bones, her hand resting on her crutches as she leaned forward. "Let's keep it professional if you can, Donald, shall we?"

His smirk faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, looking away. The tension in the room rose as the defence team presented their counters to our claims. Their arguments were aggressive, bordering on dismissive, but we knew we had the truth on our side.

Beyond the Movie Script
Chapter 8 to come
K