Fairy Godmother's Accident

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Unlucky and unloved young man gets it all.
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Life had not been kind to Silas Hampstead. The 23-year-old with that terrible name was orphaned at twelve, hated by his two sisters, his tally of sexual experiences was three out of three interrupted insertions – two by husbands and one by police for which the Judge sentenced him to 100 hours community work – his face was scared and...

Oh, why go on; suffice to say he was rather unlucky.

Silas's sisters lived in his parents' house, which had been left to Silas but only the sisters had attend the reading of the will and they omitted to inform Silas about the bequest. The lawyer's letter of confirmation for Silas arrived but by a stroke of bad luck fell from the hands of one of the sister and into the open fire. She said, "Oh dear, and the sisters giggled.

The sisters graciously allowed their brother to live in the garden shed and charged him rent, taking half the amount he earned from stacking shelves at the supermarket five nights a week from 10 pm to 5 am. The sisters generously organized that job for him, figuring he'd sleep for most of the day so they'd not catch sight of him.

If this were a fairy story, the Queen of the Fairies would arrive and clean up Silas's act, banish the wicked sisters to the nearest brothel and turn Silas into a charming, handsome man who'd be widely lauded as Bachelor of the Year and pursued by suitable heiress hairless virgins of the optimum age for marriage.

Instead, Silas on his way to work was run over by Mrs Wilma Forbes-Bacon who was pissed as a newt after being to her hairdresser's baby's first birthday. He suffered two dislocated shoulders, a laceration to his hip, a bruised penis assembly and a cut to the lip. He'd been walking home on the sidewalk which Mrs Forbes-Bacon had mistaken for the highway.

An ambulance was called but when it was discovered he was without medical insurance the medics were about to leave when Mrs Forbes-Bacon produced her credit card which was zapped and she was given a receipt for the cost of transporting her victim to accident and emergency and three days of top medical care in a private suite in the hospital.

"How are you my poor man?" she asked, leaning over Silas and anaesthetizing him with her breath of umpteen vodka martinis and heavily garlicky finger food.

"Very well thank you, considering, but I'll be late for work."

"Don't worry, young man," she laughed hysterically. "You will never need to work again once your attorneys get to work on me."

A back-up medical unit arrived and Mrs Forbes-Bacon was driven home after pronounced to be suffering shock; an the assistant paramedic followed driving her car.

This unbelievable sequence of events continued next day. Silas awoke in hospital unable to remember why he was there and had to be told why he couldn't move his arms and why his hip and penis were sore. The police were annoyed by this memory blip and brought in Mrs Forbes-Bacon in handcuffs as she'd been arrested for driving dangerously but the evidence was thin because there were no other witnesses and she'd denied the charge, claiming it was an accident as she swerved to avoid a cyclist who'd shot out in front of her riding without lights or any sense of direction.

Listening to her account of what allegedly happened, Silas' memory returned. He recalled being smacked by the car and attempting to leap over it to lessen the impact, thrusting his hands out to avoid landing on his head.

"Mr Hampstead," said the police sergeant. "Can you identify this woman?"

"Miss Perkins, my old schoolteacher who took me for art?" Silas answered, winking at the hapless Mrs Forbes-Bacon.

"The accident last night, remember?" continued the sergeant. "This woman was there – she talked to you."

"Oh yes, I remember now," Silas said, watching Mrs Forbes-Bacon's face fall. "She was the ambulance driver – I think they called her Miss Brown."

"Thank you, Mr Hampstead," sighed the sergeant. "That is all, you can go."

"He cannot go anywhere," said the ward manager. "Mr Hampstead is in our care."

"Of course," said the sergeant, removing the handcuffs from Mrs Forbes-Bacon.

"It is pointless us pursuing this, ma'am. Without this young man's evidence to the contrary, your version of what happened is incontestable."

"Thank you officer. Please have one of your men drive me home. Goodbye Mr Hampstead."

That evening Mrs Forbes-Brown's 26-year-old daughter Angela arrived home on a month's annual leave. She was a senior trauma nurse working in a serious burns medical unit up-State. Her mother told Angela about her stupid behaviour leading to the accident she described, saying fortunately she'd only been driving at 10 mph because she knew she was drunk.

When told that the poor young man was down on his luck and was without hospital insurance, Angela said, "He'll need care for three weeks or more mom, with both shoulders dislocated. He'll gradually feel less pain but will be in a double harness. You caused his discomfort and as you said, he saved you from going to jail. Bring him home and nurse him here – I'll teach you how to care for him."

Angela hired equipment and at the end of the third day of hospital care Silas was discharged into Mrs Forbes-Bacon's care, thus avoiding heading for a pauper's care unit. The paramedics placed Silas into the hired double tilting bed and left.

With her mom out presiding over the Floral Art Council, Angela picked up the copy of Silas's medical notes and stood over him.

"Mr Hampstead, I need to change your dressing and inspect your bruising."

"Go ahead nurse, but call me Silas."

"You may call me Angela."

"You're cute Angela."

"Why thank you, but could we tightened up a bit as in this role I need to work professionally and earn your respect and cooperation."

"Of course, Angela. How could it be anything else?"

Exposing the hip wound and heavy adjacent bruising, Angela said, "Oh, this was a nasty laceration but it's coming along fine. Mom really is an awful driver. But how was she able to hit you when crawling along at 10 miles an hour?"

"I saw her coming but couldn't believe what I was seeing as cars don't normally come down sidewalks. She saw me and was blinking furiously. I thought she would stop, but she didn't. She actually accelerated, possibly hitting the gas pedal instead of the brake. I took the initial impact on my hip but at that stage was leaping forward and upwards to avoid being flattened, and that momentum and the car accelerating from under me allowed me to land on my hands instead of my head, fortunately."

"Oh my goodness. She could have killed you. Never mind – you're saved her from going to jail. I'm going to inspect your penis now – I'll put a towel over your eyes if you wish."

"What, are you going to masturbate me and shoot it over my face?"

Angela giggled. "No silly man – to cover your eyes to lessen your embarrassment."

"No thank you – I want to study your reaction as you handle it."

"Very well.

"My, it's not very big, is it? Very difficult to see the bruising in this mode."

"You'll have to stroke it up."

"Very well, I'll fetch some gloves."

"Would you wear gloves when playing with a dick on a date?"

"Theoretically, of course not, but this is different."

"How is it different?"

"You are my patient."

"Then your patient instructs you to treat him like a man on a date."

"Very well. Does it have a name?"

"No, but give it one if you wish."

"I'd have to be aware of its personality to do that."

"I'm sure that can be arranged – how many days do you have here?"

"Thirty."

"That should be enough time."

Angela blushed and frowned, "Don't be naughty, Silas."

She played with his dick, stroking it very gently and it rose to the occasion.

"Oh you poor darling," she coo-ed. "My mummy's bruised you. I will rub on ointment to make you all better."

"It likes you talking to it."

"It needs a name."

Silas licked his lips. "It might like to be sucked."

"Don't be disgusting Silas,"

Silas's dark brown eyes met her sky blue ones and Angela realised she was in her parents' house, not a hospital ward, so her expression softened and she felt dampness between her thighs.

"It's a very nice penis," she ventured.

He smiled, saying he tried to look after it as it was the only one he had. "I'd like you to suck it."

For a second she hesitated, then glancing at him apologetically raced from the room.

Silas's dick began to shrivel in humiliation but he told it to behave itself as Mrs Forbes-Bacon was bound to administer to him out of guilt if nothing else. Besides, she looked as if she hadn't had a dick in her mouth since college days so he'd have the pleasure of training her.

Angela arrived back a little out of breath. "It was the delivery boy with our weekly order from the supermarket. I helped him carry the boxes to the kitchen. Now, where was I?"

Silas tried to think then realised the head of his dick was waving around wildly as if saying, 'Here, here!'

"You were about to suck my dick."

"Oh was I?" she said, automatically opening the front of her dress, releasing her boobs, and holding her long honey blonde hair back with a hand, she bent over Silas and with a grateful smile slipped her mouth over the dick, greasy with ointment. Silas lay back with a huge smile, watching the head and boobs bobbing up and down, wishing he had use of his arms. She pulled away and steered the stream of cum up over him, some reaching his mouth.

"That was lovely. I was hoping I still had the skill because I haven't done much of that since college days – medical men prefer to have their toes and fingers sucked."

Silas noticed her picking up the towel reluctantly, gazing longingly at his chest.

"Tongue me clean, Angela."

"Oh Silas, how generous of you," she cooed and began slurping her way up to his mouth.

She finished and Silas said he'd experienced greater relief than she had, and suggested she climb aboard.

By this stage, very emotionally aroused, Angela stripped, displaying her meaty looking vulva already open at the mouth and dripping. She was blonde and nicely trimmed around it.

"I'll face away from you," Angela said, climbing on to the bed. "That will give you a better view of things; most of the doctors say my anus is one of the best they've ever seen."

Angela was bouncing away on Silas when he mother opened the door and stood shocked. Mrs Forbes-Bacon closed the door gently and out in the passage began fingering herself, a big smile gloating her face. She was no longer feeling so guilty about harming that boy so. With a dick that size he'd be very good for Angela.

"Aaaaaaaaaagh," went Angela behind the door, with Silas adding his "Eeeeeeeeeeeh."

"Aaaaghhhhh" went Mrs Forbes-Bacon, biting through her dress to her breast to muffle her scream.

Slopping as she walked to her bedroom to clean up she thought that over dinner that night she'd ask her husband Hal to appoint Silas assistant manager of one of Hal's companies to begin grooming him for greater things. She'd persuade Angela to transfer to the local hospital and Angela and Silas could live in the house. She and Harold would then move into the apartment building where his mistress lived. That would locate her much closer to the horticultural and floral art society's head office where most of her lesbian friends were based.

What a wonderful ending for everyone, enthused Mrs Forbes-Bacon emerging from the bathroom and hearing a huge "Aaaaaaaagh" from Angela. She was so happy for her daughter, enjoying real sex again. Those doctors of hers only wanted their toes and fingers sucked and they then focused anally.

THE END

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5 Comments
AnonymousAnonymousalmost 11 years ago
mission accomplished

Reads like a bad SNL skit with genitals. :D

rudystahrmanrudystahrmanalmost 18 years ago
Humourous

Humourous and sexy, an excellent piece of writing. Keep writing, please.

rudy

Egmont GrigorEgmont Grigorover 18 years agoAuthor
Oh Dear

Re'Bad Writing" 11/01/05 by rudystahrman in USA SE ALASKA: Don't become a salaried critic, Rudy; you wouldn't make a dime. Your understanding of humor appears nilch, your understanding of author's intent and style likewise and I'm sorry I've given you reading difficulty. Hopefully in your State there are reading and comprehension assistance programs. To rate that article 00 rates your mentality, I would think.

rudystahrmanrudystahrmanover 18 years ago
Bad Writing

Hey, I think you're trying to be humourous, but U failed miserably. Your converstation sequences are stillted, and almost unreadable.

This makes a good story bad, and it needs editing.

AnonymousAnonymousover 18 years ago
Good

Love your humorous stories very much. Too many readers take all this too seriously anyway.

Boyd

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