Life on the Edge of Orgasm Pt. 02

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Sisters conspire to keep me naked at home.
11.8k words
4.7
64.4k
67

Part 2 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 05/21/2015
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Chapter 9

The morning of the day I checked out of the hospital, I was surprised to see Amy come in and start preparing for a sponge bath. I'd been showering on my own for the last two days, but I didn't question her at all. The procedure was a little different this time. Instead of covering the parts she wasn't actively working on, she stripped me down completely. This would be the first and last time she saw me without any casts. I had lost quite a lot of muscle mass all over, so I was pretty scrawny, but she didn't care about that. In fact, she skipped my upper body altogether and then skipped my legs, too. I had happily cum in her presence many times during my stay, but in accordance with our agreement, we never reacted to it at all, never acknowledging any pleasure derived from the act.

But this time, this was different. She didn't put the latex gloves on. And she was using body lotion, not soap. There was no point in pretending that this was going to be anything like a sponge bath; it was a very erotic hand job session, plain and simple. She took her time, massaging my balls before moving on to my dick, and that first touch, it was electric. She started stroking slowly, gradually speeding up until it was time. I cried out as the first shot of hot come burst from my cock, straight up. Almost hit the ceiling. That first load landed right at the top of her forehead, getting just a little in her hair, quite a bit on her face from forehead to chin, and a pretty good puddle ended up on the front of her shirt. It was the first and last time for me to cum on her body. She kept milking as I came, getting every last drop; it was the first and last time for that, too. I looked into those beautiful green eyes for the last time, and thanked her profusely. She just smiled and said good-bye as she walked out the door.

Getting dressed was a bit of a chore. Mom had provided a warm-up suit of a light-weight polyester, light gray in color, t-shirt, socks & sneakers, and white briefs. I had Wanda and another female aide helping me get dressed. I was really enjoying the attention. I had learned from my hospital experience just how hot it is to be a naked man in a room full of clothed women. I actually didn't know it was a recognized fetish until later. I had already decided to go commando if I could get away with it. I feigned trouble with the briefs, complained of hip pain as they were being pulled up. Wanda suggested leaving them off, as the warm-up pants had looser elastic and a draw string, and so could be pulled up without putting pressure on my hip. "Excellent!" I thought.

I caught sight of myself in the mirror; I had a bit of a stiffy from the incidental contact of getting dressed, and there was no hiding it. Even though the pants were loose fitting and hung down in folds, you could easily make out the outline of the head of my cock. When I reached a flaccid state, I found that if I stood still, it was possible for a person to not notice, but any movement causing my dick to swing about gave it away. I didn't even want to consider what an erection would look like in those pants. I began to understand that any time I didn't wear underwear, in any kind of trousers, I wouldn't be able to hide my dick completely. That thought brought on a warm feeling, as I considered the possibilities, and my dick started to rise. It looked positively obscene as I stood there watching. I had the impulse to quickly sit down, to hide it from the ladies; then I realized, "I'm checking out of here; I'm not likely to see them again, what the hell." That thought added more fuel to the fire. The fabric was too lightweight and loose fitting to contain my erection, so as my cock rose it began to stick straight out lifting my pant leg several inches.

"Oh my goodness," said Wanda with a big smile, "You don't want your mom to see you like that." I tried to act embarrassed, trying to hide my erection with my hands. The ladies just laughed, and Wanda said, "Stephen, you should know by now you can't cover that thing with your hands." I just said, "Oh" and stood there with a concerned look on my face, trying to fool them into thinking they had embarrassed me. It worked. They fell all over themselves apologizing for their insensitivity, giving me hugs and trying to be supportive and make me feel less self-conscious.

Wanda spent a few minutes fiddling with the front of my pants, trying to make them hang straight. Without hesitation, she pulled waistband away from my body, causing my hard dick to slap against my stomach; she tried to reposition it to achieve a more modest appearance, but in the end she left it sticking straight up against my belly with the head poking out above the waistband. She stopped, stood back and took a good look. "What do you think?" she asked the aide, "at least the front of his pants are hanging straight." The aide didn't answer; instead she just stared, open-mouthed. I guess, even though nudity was a common part of her job, she was not accustomed to seeing hospital staff manipulating an erect penis, and joking about it in the presence of its owner.

I was dressed and sitting in the wheelchair when Mom and my sisters arrived. The doctors came around, one at a time, with discharge instructions, and then we were free to leave. Down the elevator to the lobby and out the door. Felt nice to be outdoors, finally.

Mom brought the car around, a very nice luxury SUV. "Impressive," I thought, "can't wait to see my own wheels." I was helped into the back seat, sitting next to Michelle, with Mom and Michelle in the front. Conversation was light and trivial, but Michelle was wearing shorts, very short spandex shorts, and I was really distracted by the sight of those beautiful legs in the seat next to me. The way she was seated, kind of turned toward me with one knee on the seat folded back under, her shorts rode up all the way to her crotch. At least, it seemed that way to me. I could just make out a little bit of pubic hair peaking out, and thought if she fidgeted a little, her pussy might even make an appearance. It took a lot of effort not to stare, as I didn't want to creep her out or anything, and I think I may have succeeded. I did get about half-hard several times during the hour-long drive (in heavy traffic), and I'm pretty sure Michelle noticed. Thinking back, it should have been obvious that she wanted me to look at her, and knew the effect it was having on me.

We were driving through a v-e-r-y nice neighborhood in the LA suburbs, when Mom pulled into the driveway of a big 2-story house. There were several cars in the driveway, and a few parked at the curb. "Okay, now I need to warn you," Mom said as she turned to face me, "Some of the relatives are here to welcome you home. My sisters, your aunts Peggy, Elizabeth, and Denise, and Peg's kids, your cousins Terry and Pat. They know about your memory condition. Please do try to remember everyone here loves you, so you don't have to be embarrassed about anything." "Ok, Mom, I'll do my best." I was only a little bit nervous.

Chapter 10

With a little help from my sisters, I negotiated the front walk, and entered into a beautiful foyer with a tall ceiling, a living room to one side and dining room to the other, a staircase and a hallway leading to a den and the rest of the ground floor. I was really impressed. I was even more impressed by the flow of women coming from the den towards me, arms outstretched. I counted five - five women. So Terry and Pat were females as well. Aunt Peggy and Aunt Liz were both older than Mom, but remarkably well-preserved, and wow! What a rack on Liz. And she wasn't stingy with her cleavage. Aunt Denise had been a surprise baby; at 27, she was 14 years younger than my Mom. The cousins were both in their early 20's and pretty enough.

But Denise, she was a real beauty, perfectly proportioned, beautiful skin, beautiful dark hair with just the right amount of curl. She was not like the rest of the family. Her eyes were a bit heavy on the make-up, I noticed, and her clothes were quite revealing; black tank top, no bra, and short-short cut-off jeans. Pierced eyebrow and tongue, and a couple tattoos that I could see. Her breasts were so very firm, with a hint of nipple pushing against the fabric. She looked like a real party girl. She was also the only one I noticed checking out my dick as it was swinging against the fabric of my pants.

I stood there for four nice, tight hugs from women I'd never met before, then Denise stepped up. This gorgeous creature, my Aunt Denise approached slowly, very tenderly put her arms around my neck and pressed her body fully against mine. I guess it wasn't too suggestive to onlookers, because nobody else showed any kind of reaction. Her left knee found its way to my crotch, and there is no doubt she was feeling me up with her thigh. I noticed a sharp intake of breath against my neck at the moment of contact; she seemed pleased at what she encountered there. Luckily the rest of the family was on her right side, so no one else noticed. She lingered, her body pressed against mine in a way that felt very sexy for me, but maybe I was mistaken, as no one else seemed to notice.

Aunt Liz spoke up, "it was Denise who first got word of your accident, and actually made it to the scene before you got on the ambulance. There was so much blood, you were such a mess, she thought you were dead." That's how the others understood the tender, prolonged embrace. My perspective, however, was slightly different. She was still holding me close when I felt her left hand slide down my back. No one else was in a position to observe her hand slide under the waistband of my warm-up pants, and gently squeeze my butt cheek. We were swaying slightly, and the pressure of her thigh against my cock, combined with her hand on my ass and her lovely breasts pressed tight against my body, was starting to have an effect. I wasn't quite ready to expose my hard cock to the rest of my family, so I slumped, and complained of fatigue and pain. Terry stepped up, and along with Denise, helped me into the den, settling on a plush sofa.

Mom and the aunts went into the kitchen to prepare lunch, leaving me with my sisters and cousins, none of whom I really knew very well. Terry was still sitting beside me, close, with her arm around my shoulders and body pressed up against mine. At 24, she was the younger of the two cousins, short hair, slender, petite, with a twinkle in her eye and a quick smile, a lively sort of girl. Pat was 27, taller than average, with a little extra padding, and more reserved than her little sister. They would be returning home to San Francisco on a late flight that night. Denise lived a couple hour's drive up the coast and planned to leave right after lunch.

Michelle came over to sit at my left side, equally close. The girls started filling me in on life in the Wood household. At first a lot of talk about schools and athletics, boyfriends and other trivia. I mostly kept quiet, asking a question here and there. Then they started talking about Virginia and her sisters.

"Don't worry about Denise," said Pat, "She's the baby of the family; her sisters had already left the house when she was growing up, so she's a little different."

"You can say that again," I replied, "Do any of the others have body art?" They all spoke up at once to assure me that was not the case.

Morgan added, "at least, not that any of us has been able to find."

Terry said, "You may have noticed, Denise is more the 'touchy-feely' type than the rest of us."

"I did notice that," I said.

Pat spoke up, "Except for Aunt Virginia. She's a lot like that, too."

"And your sister, Michelle," Morgan added with a laugh.

Michelle put her arms around me and said, "Hey don't make fun of me!"

"Since Denise is only 10 years older than us and single, she was always the hippest aunt, and most fun to hang out with. She babysat us lots of times; we're all closer to her than the others," Morgan said. That explained a lot.

"I didn't notice anything extra touchy-feely about Mom," I said, "and what about me?" The girls all looked around at each other, like they had a secret or something.

Finally Morgan spoke, "We really shouldn't tell you this, but Mom's therapist told her to scale it back, like, a lot, until we figured out how your head injury would affect your personality."

"And as for you," Michelle said, "you're really shy, a little too shy if you ask me."

"That's funny, I don't feel very shy," I said. At that point, lunch was declared ready, so we all moved into the kitchen.

Chapter 11

As a serious traumatic brain injury patient, I wouldn't be cleared to drive for a couple months, so I was pretty much confined to the property except when I could get a lift somewhere. But the property was pretty awesome. The house was spacious and well-appointed. My bedroom opened onto a hallway upstairs, with Morgan's door across the hall and further down. My room also had a door to the upstairs bathroom, as did Michelle's room, on the other side of the bathroom. The bathroom had a doorway leading into the hall, in addition to the bedroom doors. It was a large bathroom, plenty of good lighting, double lavatory, and a separate tub and shower. The shower was larger than most, and enclosed in glass. Perfect. The upstairs landing opened out into a large den/playroom, equipped with theater-style seating along the wall, a plush sectional sofa in the corner, and the biggest flat screen TV you've ever seen. And a pool table. The master suite was downstairs, as was the guest bedroom. There was a large back yard surrounded by a privacy fence, with a good-sized pool and pool-house. I had cable television and high-speed internet in my room. I wondered if I had appreciated all this before the accident.

I knew I needed to take advantage of Mom's "touchy-feely" side, so that first evening, I found her in the kitchen, walked over, put my arms around her and kissed her cheek tenderly. "Mom," I said, "I don't know if I ever told you this before, but you are really the greatest." I gushed on with appreciation, and love, and all that mushy stuff. Her eyes got all teary as she put her arms around my neck; she started talking about how happy she was to have me home, and went on and on and on, the way women do. I hadn't noticed until that moment, but she had changed into a night gown that was fairly flimsy, and her breasts felt so good against my body. I had to fight the urge to grind my pelvis into hers. We hugged for a long time, and at the end, I straightened up, lifting her off the ground, forcing her body against mine. I was a little bit stiff, but I don't think she noticed. It was too soon yet for anything really sexual. I was just laying the ground work. After that, I began coming to find her every night for a hug before turning in. She really ate that shit up.

My second day at home, I'd just taken a shower and was standing naked at the sink, shaving, when Michelle's door opened and she walked in. I have to admit, she looked pretty damn good in just an oversized t-shirt, with her hair all mussed up from sleeping.

When she realized I was naked, she started to back out, apologizing, "sorry, the door was unlocked." At that point she just froze, eyes locked on my dick. She stood there like that for maybe 30 seconds, finally coming to her senses, saying, "So, you're just going to walk around naked now?"

I answered, "Haven't I always?" I figured the answer was probably "no," but thought I'd give it a try anyway.

I saw her lips start to form the word "no," but instead she just shrugged and muttered something like, "yeah, sure, whatever. But I'm not going to, so you need to get out of here while I take a shower."

"No problem," I said, "I'll be done here in just a sec." She waited, and watched. Every time I glanced at her reflection in the mirror, I could tell her eyes were focused on my groin. For effect, I leaned forward, as if needing to get a closer look in the mirror, plopping my cock and balls on the counter top. I heard her give a little laugh, and turned my head to see that she was amused by what I'd done.

She looked up suddenly, as if she'd been caught at something naughty, but I just smiled at her like everything was normal, and said, "There we go, it's all yours."

She smiled back, "thanks, brother."

"Nice work," I told myself, only two days and already I had cleared the way to walk around naked in front of Michelle. Back in my room I started stroking lazily, remembering the look on Michelle's face when she saw my dick. I figured it was probably her first glimpse of it since we were very small children.

I brought myself off easily, then set about getting dressed. Looking at my wardrobe, I could tell why they said I was shy before the accident. I owned only the most baggy pants ever made. All heavy fabrics, and even the shorts were all extra long; and nothing but tighty-whiteys in the underwear drawer. Clearly I had some shopping to do.

Mom had an exercise room next to her bedroom, and I'd be working out there, with an in-home physical therapist. She also hired a personal trainer for me, and put in a full set of weights. Physical therapy was three days a week and started the second day.

The therapist, Debbie, was older, maybe close to 50, and thin as a rail, like she had no body fat at all. She did some yoga instructing on the side, so she was pretty damn flexible. Not bad looking, all things considered, but I never saw her wearing makeup. Debbie worked me pretty hard, but I was motivated. We alternated days working in the pool, and working indoors.

The personal trainer, Jocelyn, was something else. A dark-haired, dark-eyed Latina with a thin waist and big boobs. Beautiful and strong, I got hot just looking at her. She came in twice a week, so every morning I was working either with Debbie or Jocelyn.

During my first session with Jocelyn she noticed my cock bulging, trying to break free of the briefs; not even the loose-fitting shorts could conceal it completely. She was nice, we were getting along great until that point. She eyed my crotch with disdain, or disapproval, and her demeanor changed. Instead of encouragement, she began barking orders, and looking on with disgust if I couldn't complete the tasks she set for me. I have to admit, I found it a bit arousing. I don't know what her deal was; as long as she couldn't tell I was the least bit aroused, she was nice; as soon as she noticed any sign of growth between my legs, she became Mean Jocelyn.

Being summer, Mom was up and gone before any of us were awake. The scene between Michelle and I on that second morning was repeated the next day. She came in and we talked as she watched me shave. Occasionally, my cock would start to rise, but I managed to maintain my composure, even when it became fully erect. I was determined to keep her from suspecting that I had any kind of sexual motive at all. By the fourth day, she had stopped pretending that she wasn't watching my dick while we talked, and just stared openly.

One morning later that first week, after I'd finished shaving I turned and walked into my room mid-sentence, talking through the open door. It worked! She followed and sat down in my computer chair, eyes at crotch level, while I leaned against the dresser and continued our conversation. Watching her look at my dick so casually was such a turn-on, I kept rising to a full erection, then dropping back to half-staff whenever I had to concentrate on the conversation. I began to think about taking it in hand, and jerking off for her. But I wanted the timing to be right; I wasn't ready to confess my sexual interest in her, not until I was sure I had a green light.

I began stripping off any time I was in my room, just in case Michelle came in. She did come in, too, and we talked about a lot of things; boys, girls, school; we got pretty close. I even mentioned it one day, how I felt really close to her, and asked if it was like that before the accident.