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Bent , Broken Ch. 02

Creampie Eating

Author’s Note: All thanks to my editor, shygirlwhore.

*

She called me in at about 5:00am.

“Jimmy, can you bring me some fresh water?”

I fetched it for her. No mention of last night.

“Stay with me? I need to make it to 6 o’clock to get back on schedule for these pain killers.”

I nodded. We watched some videos on her tablet. She bore the pain, and I held her. It wasn’t as bad as that first night, and it didn’t come in waves. It was more of a constant build up.

She made it. I gave her the meds, and she zonked out.

***

Nurse Jane came to visit me when she heard me in the upstairs kitchen.

“She wants to see you,” she said.

“Right.” I started off.

“Did you have to change her underwear last night?”

I stopped. “Uh, yeah. She had to pee and it got messy.”

“Alrighty.”

I went downstairs and Claire smiled when I came in.

“Nurse Jane didn’t follow you, did she?”

I was confused. “Uh, no.”

“I told her I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“Right. What’s up?”

“Jimmy, I’m sick of having weird ladies take care of me. I hate it that they’re cleaning up after me and feeding me and washing me. It’s just humiliating having them in my personal space. Also, the new pain killers are working really well, and my back is improving. What I’m saying is I think in the next few days, I’ll be more independent. Maybe I’ll have the brace off, even.”

“Okay.”

“So, will you be my full-time nurse?”

“Claire, I’m no nurse. I don’t know what I’m doing if…”

“Nothing is going to happen, Jimmy. And you’re wrong: you’ve done a great job.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I trust you, Jimmy. I’m okay with you, you know, doing those things. You’re not like those weird ladies.”

“But, my Mom, she’ll freak.”

“She won’t know.”

“How?”

“I’m paying for the nurses, not her.”

“She’s going to call. She’s going to want to talk to them.”

“Don’t answer. Send her a text saying I’m doing great.”

“What if she comes home this weekend?”

“Then we tell her we let them have the weekend off because we knew she was coming home.”

I considered.

“Look, Jimmy. It’s like I said: by the time she figures it out I’ll be good.”

“And if something bad happens?”

“It won’t. But, you can take me to the emergency room if it does.”

“So, I just hang out with you all day, feeding you and stuff?”

“It won’t be all day. You’ll have time to go out for a few hours here and there. I’m not going to make you sit by my bedside all day.”

I was thinking. I’d get to see her naked. A lot. I’d have to clean a little piss from her pussy—that wasn’t so bad. I’d have to wipe her ass, though, and that was gross. But, maybe, just maybe—when she was high on her meds—I could feel those tits again, finger that pussy. Jerk off to her naked body. For a week or two? Fuck, yeah, I was going to do it.

“Please, Jimmy, I can’t have these women that I don’t know around me anymore. I need you. I trust you.”

“Right. I’ll do it.”

“Oh, thank you! Gimme a hug!”

I went over and hugged her softly. She pecked me on the cheek.

“Okay, send Nurse Jane down,” she said

I did, and I never saw her again. Claire needed her medicine a short time later. I gave it to her and hung out, hoping for something to happen.

She asked for food. I brought her a sandwich and some crackers. I fed her and watched her slowly descend into the woozy grip of her pain killers.

But, this time was different. Claire sank into depression. I spent the hour consoling her, wiping tears from her eyes, and listening to her disappointment about nationals. Then, she slept.

Later that day, I had to help her in the bathroom. She made it easy on me, but it was no fun. On a hunch, I did some online shopping and found some devices designed for situations like hers, personal hygiene tools. I showed them to her on her tablet and she had me order a few of them—rush delivery. I had to put up with bathroom duty the next day, but the day after that, I was free.

The one duty I didn’t mind at all—the sponge bath—I got to keep that job.

But giving a sponge bath to a depressed woman was not so enjoyable. Claire’s descent into sadness didn’t make being her nurse as much fun as I hoped. Her back was definitely improving, but her emotional state only got worse.

I spent a lot of time giving hugs, listening, and just hanging out with a supremely disappointed, albeit beautifully sexy, woman.

I was getting frustrated, and on the night of my third day as her full-time nurse, I ordered Claire up.

“I don’t need the bathroom.”

“We’re not going to the bathroom.”

“Where are we going?”

“Outside for a walk.”

She hesitated.

I pursued. “Claire, it’s like eleven, most everyone’s in bed who would care, everyone else is drunk. I brought one of Mom’s bathrobes for you. Look. And it’s a nice night. Come on, lets go get some air.”

She nodded.

We went slowly, and when we got outside, something in her changed. Her Escort forlorn expression turned tranquil. Getting outside the house was somehow like turning off the engine on a boat—one remembers how peaceful and beautiful the lake really is. I held her waist, and she gingerly put one foot in front of the next. We could hear the night, not the air conditioner and the television. We smelled June. We glanced at television lights in windows, but we admired the stars. I don’t think either of us said a word.

We didn’t go far, down the block and back. It was almost time for her meds.

Once back in bed and comfortable, I gave Claire her midnight pain killer. I had given up hope regarding any further sexual liaisons, but I was hopeful that our walk made it so that I wouldn’t have to steel myself for an hour or so of bitter sadness.

The pain killers were taking effect, and Claire was utterly silent, laying back with her eyes closed. I got up from my chair and made to leave before I heard her speak.

“Stay. Pleeeease.”

“Sure.”

She smiled and looked me over. “I like you, college boy.”

“Thanks.”

“But, you were naughty a few nights ago.”

I grinned. “So were you.”

“I have an excuse. I’m wasted. You’re not.”

I shrugged.

“Do you want to do it again?” she asked with a devious smile.

“Yeah.”

“So do I.”

I smiled.

“Let me see that jaycock get hard.”

I pulled it out; it dangled.

“I know a way to help it. Give me your finger.”

I raised it to her.

“Closer, college boy, I’m going to suck it.” I let her.

She enclosed it in her soft lips and I felt the suction, and I felt her tongue gliding on it. Her eyes were closed and she moaned. Then, she started slowly bobbing back and forth along it.

She opened her eyes and looked at my dick, and, yeah, she was helping.

I held my finger there, stunned, feeling my cock grow, and hoping like hell she was going to do that again. But, she didn’t. She just watched my cock slowly assume its strange shape.

“Shit,” she said once I was full and complete.

“Claire will you do that to my finger again?”

She smiled. “Are you going to jerk it for me?”

I nodded. I grabbed myself and started slowly tugging.

“Give me that finger,” she said. I did. She sucked it beautifully and slowly, and then she said, “I’ve never sucked on one so bendy.” Then, she went down on my finger again. She pulled off and said, “I like the taste of this big jaycock.” She opened wide and took all of my finger in her mouth, closing her lips around the knuckle and then pulled back slowly. Then, she winked at me.

And, no kidding, I had only been jerking off for about two minutes, and I was cumming.

Claire wasn’t naked, so I dirtied up her bedding and clothes.

“Oh, shit, that was sexy, Claire.”

“You think so?”

I nodded, panting.

“You don’t know what sexy is, college boy. Give me that finger again.” I raised it up to her. “But, put some of that hot cum on it first.”

She was right: I did not know what sexy was. I scooped a drop of cum off the sheets with my finger, and I raised it to her lips. She put the very tip of her tongue on it. She curled her tongue up and away and a small string formed and grew until it broke when she closed her lips around her tongue. Then, she caressed my fingertip with her lips, coating them in semen. She licked it off and then engulfed my finger. A few seconds later, it emerged, clean and glistening, from her wet mouth.

“Better get me some new bedding, college boy, and a new gown. I think I’d like some new panties, too,” she added, winking at me.

I yanked the sheets off the bed, unlatched her brace, and removed her gown. Then, I slipped her panties off and she was there, athletic body on full display.

But, when I returned with her new bedding, she was asleep. I didn’t know what license I had, if any, to play with her body while she slept, so I suppressed my urges as best I could. I dressed her, re-braced her, and covered her in fresh sheets and blankets. Then, I left.

***

To pre-empt Mom, Claire and I sent daily text messages to her on Claire’s phone, reporting positively on her condition. I phoned and left messages during the day when I knew she would be in court. I never took a call from her until after 9:00pm so that, in her mind, there was no Nurse around.

On Friday morning, I took Claire to the doctor to check on her progress. I sat in the waiting room for some time, and then, I was surprised when a nurse came out and asked me to join Claire.

I walked into the examination room, a bit confused. Claire was sitting on the exam table. She gave me the briefest of looks—raised eyebrows and downcast eyes. The doctor came towards me and reached out to shake my hand.

“Jimmy?” she said, and I shook her hand.

“Right.”

“I’m Helen Borst, Claire’s doctor.”

“Hi.”

“Claire tells me that you’re her partner.”

Shit, Claire! “Uh, Right.”

“I want to show you some of the stretches we need her to do to help her Escort Bayan back. Claire’s going to need your assistance.”

Dr. Borst helped Claire, and then had me take over, and some of these stretches, well, they were going to be almost as good as a sponge bath.

When we finished, Dr. Borst said, “Do these with Claire at least once a day, twice is better—in the morning and before bed.”

“Gotcha.”

“Thank you, Jimmy. Can you excuse us and I’ll have Claire back to you in just a few minutes?”

“Yeah, sure.” I left.

When I got Claire back in the car, I asked her about this “partner” business.

“You saw the stretches, Jimmy. Do you think she would have let my nephew be my assistant?”

“No.”

“Well, there it is.”

“What did she say about your back brace?”

“Monday, it comes off.”

“Hey. That’s cool.”

“I know, right?”

“What about the pain meds?”

I felt her looking at me while I drove. She said, “When they run out, that’s it. Advil after that. She doesn’t want me to get addicted to the stuff.”

“Could you?”

“Yeah, I could see it happening. It’s strong stuff.”

I drove in silence for a few seconds.

“Jimmy, how much is left?”

“Less than ten pills, I’d say.”

I wondered about running out. The pills seemed to be the key to unlocking the sex-hungry Claire. Was the end of those pills the end of us together?

“I’ll be ready for one after lunch,” she said. “But, let’s do the stretches first.”

***

We were in the den of the basement apartment. I put down a skinny yoga mat that Claire had me pick up on the way home. She laid on it, flat on her back.

She was in her gown, and she had made me slip a pair of shorts over her panties. Her casts rested across her tummy. I was in sweatpants and a tee shirt.

The first stretch involved her hamstrings. Flat on her back, I took one leg at a time. She straightened it out while I held her ankle and applied back pressure just below her knee. Then, together, we raised her extended leg up until she “felt strong pressure.”

“Sorry, Jimmy,” she said.

“What?”

“Can’t really shave my legs like this.”

“Forget it, Claire. Your legs are perfect.”

She smiled.

Yes, there was stubble. I didn’t mind; it’s not like I felt like I was stretching a man. This was a very fit, very feminine leg. I adjusted my grip on her knee, lowering my hand just slightly and grasping her thigh.

We did the other leg, and I hazarded glances at her crotch and ass.

The next part of the routine more directly involved her back. I had to help her pull her knees to her chest and then roll back until her lower back lifted off the mat.

On my knees in front of her, she lifted both legs, slightly bent. I put my hands in her knee pits. she pulled and I pushed.

“Slowly, Jimmy. This one can hurt.”

As her knees moved toward her chest, Claire’s pussy and ass rose up toward my crotch. I glanced down, seeing the perfection of her ass through the shorts and the silky sleek skin of the back of her thighs. I wanted to caress it with my fingertips.

“Okay,” she said, “okay, I’m ready.”

Then, I rocked her, gently, and her ass rose and fell just a few inches. Claire’s eyes were closed, and I knew she was concentrating on the pressure and pain, but she looked like she was fucking, and I began to stiffen. Sweatpants, perhaps, had not been the best idea.

After that, I helped her with a cross-over stretch. She had to stay flat on her back, and I could stay low and in front of her—she couldn’t see my erection.

She had one leg straight and I helped her lift and cross over the leg with her other one. When we finished that one, I was in trouble.

She rolled onto her tummy with her arms out to the side. My job was to lift her torso, and I needed to be in front of her. Basically, I would be lifting her up to my jutting boner.

“Up here, Jimmy.”

I quickly tucked my cock behind the waistband of my underwear and sweatpants, making sure my shirt was loose over the top. Then, I hesitated before stepping around to her front.

Here was my problem: With my bendy cock, if I stay too long with my erection hidden that way, the elastic tends to start riding down the shaft, exposing more and more of my dick. If I were moving around, it happened even more quickly. So, I risked popping out completely.

Fuck it, I decided. Better to not pop out at all. If she gets pissed, she gets pissed. I lifted my sweatpants high and over my cock, and I looked like I was hiding a big banana under my sweatpants.

I scooted in front of her and put my fingers under her shoulders.

“Ready?”

“Yes. Go.”

I lifted, and when her head was level with my crotch, she opened her eyes. She knew.

But, she didn’t say a word. We did ten reps, and then shifted to the final stretch.

This one was good on visuals, but not as good for feels. Claire got on her knees and the elbows of her casts. I knelt beside her, and helped her raise and lower her back.

I got in position on her Bayan Escort right side, and I put one hand on her back, another on her stomach. She arched up and stopped.

“Jimmy, it might be better if you got behind me. Try it that way.”

I scooted behind her.

“Just hold my hips to help me up and down.

I grabbed her hips. Oh, shit. I had her doggystyle. The tent in my pants was just a few inches from her ass.

I held her hips and her back rose and fell, and when it fell, Claire’s ass pushed back just a little. The curvature was a sight to behold.

I moved my hips forward, and when she arched down, her ass grazed my cock.

Fuck me.

She rose, and when she fell again, she bumped into it harder.

“Pull it out,” she said.

I dropped my pants to my knees. Claire arched up. She inhaled. She arched down, and she exhaled as the crotch of her shorts pushed against the curve at the front of my dick. My cock slid up between her ass cheeks. I grabbed the shaft and put the head firmly against her shorts where I could see the faint outline of her slit. She pushed back against it. I held her hips, and we dry humped.

“Fuck, Claire.”

She moaned, and ground her panty and shorts-covered pussy into the head of my cock.

I stopped myself from yanking those shorts and panties down. Instead, I ran my hands softly over her ass.

We panted together. She rested her head on the yoga mat. I slipped my hands under her gown, slid them up her tummy, and ran my fingers across her breasts. They hung down and felt big; I grasped them, feeling her nipples between my fingers.

“Yes,” she moaned, “Like that. Keep doing that.”

It was her pleasure that set me off, her gasps, her cries.

“Claire. I’m gonna.”

“Right there. Do it there. Soak me.”

I squeezed her tits and pushed my cock into her crotch. I felt the wetness seeping through. I sensed her labia there, and the tip of my dick between.

“Soak it in cum, college boy,” she huffed.

And I did; I let go of her tits, grabbed her waist, and gazed down at the place where the head of my cock pushed against her.

I grunted and pushed hard into her, and then pools of cum formed on her black shorts. It spilled back over the head of my cock, and it slid down her shorts and dripped on the yoga mat.

I kept pushing into her.

“Don’t stop. Oh, shit, don’t stop,” she called.

Her cries grew in intensity, and she dragged her crotch up, down, and over the tip of my cock. She hollered once, then twice, and then she put her fingers her mouth and howled into them, her eyes tightly closed and her eyebrows pinched together.

When she pulled away, her shorts were, indeed, soaked in my cum and her fluids. She laid down on her tummy, breathing deeply.

I fell back, resting my ass on my heels.

***

She dozed off after lunch. I had given her a sponge bath, changed her panties and shorts, and, at her insistence, thrown the medical gown into the garbage can and stretched a tee shirt over her casts. I fed her lunch, gave her the medication—eight pills remained—and then watched her fall asleep.

When I washed her pussy, I couldn’t help but notice how my cum had seeped through and began to dry on the tiny hairs beginning to grow.

I went upstairs and ate, thinking about Claire. I concluded that I would rather dry fuck Claire than fuck any of my previous girlfriends. She was that sexy.

I was really looking forward to helping her stretch again that night.

***

Claire asked me to help her stretch an hour after I fed her dinner, nearing 8:00pm. I helped her out of the back brace, and we walked to the den. The mat hadn’t been moved, but I cleaned it.

I was wearing a white tee shirt and boxers, a deliberate choice on my part. Claire was in her new shorts and tee shirt.

We went through the regimen, but this time, every exercise was infused with sexual energy. I was hard almost from the beginning, and my cock poked through the open seam in the front of the boxers.

When she rolled onto her stomach and I moved in front of her. She looked at my cock, and then she looked up at me and smiled.

Each time I lifted her up, she put her mouth on my dick. The first time, it was a kiss. The second time, she slowly licked up the bottom of the shaft. On the fifth, she enclosed the head in her lips, and I closed my eyes and groaned. By the tenth, and last, repetition, her head bobbed back and forth. When she let my cock slip out, she said, “Get behind me.”

So, we began her last exercise. I got in position and put my hands under her stomach. I had pushed my boxers against my abdomen so that my cock fully extended out. A few inches separated it and Claire’s perfect, curvy ass.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

She arched her back up, and I prepared myself to, once again, feel her pussy grind into me through her shorts.

“Jimmy!” I turned to the apartment door. Mom stood there, her jaw agape. “What on earth are you doing?”

I hid myself away faster than lightning, my face already turning bright red, but Claire stunned me.

“Beth! You’re back. Jimmy’s helping me stretch, aren’t you, kiddo?”

I mumbled something, too amazed by Claire’s presence of mind—her sheer steel in such a compromising situation. Mom didn’t say a word.

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