A Friend in Need

Made it, I thought as I pulled into the car park of the local secondary school, and with 15 minutes to spare! It had been a frantic Saturday morning, the first day after the end of school, and I'd delivered my 13 year old daughter Jodie to her dance class early on, then rushed back home to finish packing her case for Guide camp which started the next day. She and another friend were to be delivered to a third girl's house to sleep over in preparation for an early start the next day. The girls were all highly excited by it all and I doubted there'd be much sleep that night, or indeed for the next week.

Normally I'd sit and wait for her in the car, parents not being encouraged to come into the school, but it was the last class of the year and the rules tended to be relaxed a bit, might even get to see her dance a bit, I thought. I locked the car and wandered into the sports block, seeing the faces of several of the other Mums and Dads, who were all looking a little anxiously at me.

Instantly I was worried, petrified that something had happened to her, she was all I had left after that scourge of humanity, cancer, had taken my wife and Jodie's mother away from us four years earlier. Since then I had been ultra-protective of her, torn between trying to allow her to live a normal life and petrified of anything happening to her. As I approached, one of the teachers came out of the studio door. "Thank God you're here Steve," she started.

"What's happened? Where's Jodie? Is she OK?" Questions tumbled out of my mouth as I frantically looked around, my heart in my mouth.

"Jodie's fine, look you can see her through the glass," she dragged me to the door and there she was, dancing gracefully with all the other girls and relief flooded through me.

"What's the problem then?" I asked.

"It's Beth Cartwright, you know Beth don't you?" Of course I did, I told her, Beth had been my wife's closest friend, they'd met on the maternity ward giving birth to our daughters and had been like sisters ever since, our daughters having a similar very close relationship. Beth had been an absolute Godsend since my wife had died, helping out with childcare while I retrained as a teacher so I could be there for my daughter and generally being a surrogate mother for Jodie. She'd willingly relieved me of the need to have those difficult chats with her, birds and bees, periods, and had taken her for her first bra fitting, things that Dads, no matter how close to their young daughters, could just not do.

I could see Susannah in the class with Jodie and it was clearly nothing to do with her, so what was the problem? "She was in the adult dance class," continued the teacher "and she took a bit of a tumble and has hurt herself rather badly. She's clearly broken one wrist and it looks as though the other one may be broken as well."

"Where is she?" I asked, "Has she gone to hospital? Do you want me to take care of Susannah?"

"No, she's still here, we phoned for an ambulance but they said that for a low level injury such as that it would be an eight hour wait. We wondered if you could take her to Accident and Emergency, none of the other parents can, and we were getting desperate until you turned up. Beth would be happy with that, and Mary here," she indicated another woman who waved, "can take the two girls for their sleepover."

My mind was racing, trying to work out all the permutations and combinations and finally I saw that it would work. If I couldn't say goodbye to Jodie now I'd have to get up early to go and see the girls off in the morning, assuming I wasn't still stuck in A&E, but it was possible. Fortunately her class finished at that moment and she came barrelling out, rushing to greet me with a huge hug and a kiss. We explained the situation to her and to her credit her first thoughts were for Beth, "Of course you must take her to hospital Dad," she'd stopped calling me Daddy earlier that year, something that I still missed, "you're all she's got now that Graham isn't there." Beth's husband had left her a year or so ago for another woman.

All settled, we quickly transferred Jodie and Susannah's cases to Mary's car and it was with a lump in my throat that I hugged and kissed her goodbye. "Right, where's Beth?"

She was in a side room and I was shocked when I saw her grey face, sitting nursing both arms delicately in her lap. She was dressed in a lilac coloured dance leotard over purple tights and had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. I'd not seen her in her dance clothes before and despite the situation could not but admire her figure, some nice looking breasts, and a trim waist tapering down to some long legs.

She looked up at me with relief writ large on her face. "Steve, thank heavens you're here." I moved to her side, careful not to touch her.

"Does it hurt much?"

"It hurts like fu.... Billy-o," she ground out through clenched teeth. "Can we get going before I pass out?" We guided her carefully to my car and set her inside, managing to get the seatbelt round her without too many swear words and I drove cautiously away, trying to avoid the potholes. Fortunately the hospital wasn't far away and I parked the car right outside A&E, helping her out and walking slowly through the doors to reception.

To the credit of the hospital she was triaged quickly and although not a case of imminent death, it didn't seem that it would be long before she was attended to. I went and parked the car, returning to find her still sitting in reception, a nurse beside her taking details. I sat beside her and we waited for the best part of an hour, me trying to make simple conversation although most of my questions were met with grunts, interspersed with the odd groan.

When she was called through I was invited to accompany her, her look implored me to go with her so I did. We sat outside x-ray for half an hour, before she went in, emerging after a while to inform me that she had broken one wrist and badly sprained the other, along with a couple of fingers. She didn't seem to be in quite so much pain and upon enquiry, told me that she'd been given a couple of pills that were taking the edge off.

Fracture clinic was next, and it was another hour before she emerged, one wrist in a cast up to her elbow, the other wrapped in bandages, with her fingers taped together. She sat down beside me, "They're coming out in a minute to discharge me, for God's sake, pretend you're my partner and can look after me or they won't bloody release me."

Before I had the chance to speak to her a nurse appeared with a clip board and addressed me. "Right Mr. err..... Smith, I understand you're Beth's partner?" I nodded, conscious of Beth glaring at me, daring me to deny it, "And you are in a position to look after her?" I nodded again, explaining that I was a teacher and was now on holiday. "She's had a nasty fall and is not allowed to do anything with those hands for at least a week. We've given her some strong painkillers, but she'll still be in some pain. Are you sure you're OK with this?" I nodded again and was handed a form to sign, something I did without actually reading it.

As we stood up to go, the nurse leaned over to me and whispered, "The painkillers might make her a bit high, so you'll need to make some allowances." We thanked her and set off back to the car. She got in with less difficulty than before, and I strapped her in, setting off for her house.

"What was all that about me being your partner?" I asked.

"They won't release you unless they can put a care package in place, or there is a responsible adult at home. There's no chance of a care package for at least a week and you're all I've got, so I volunteered you. You won't be needed, I'll be able to manage, no problem," she asserted confidently.

"What about the pain?" I asked.

"I've got the pills, and anyway I've given birth for Christ's sake, nothing can be worse than that." I wondered how much of that was the drugs talking and how much was bravado. We pulled up outside her house and I escorted her to the door. "Can you just come in and see me settled, then I'll be OK." she said. "Let me go into the bathroom and get this stuff off, and have a wash, then I think it'll be OK if you go." I helped her get some loose clothing from her bedroom, me trying not to stare at the pretty lace panties she indicated she wanted, and ushered her into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

I sat at the top of the stairs, listening for the sound of water running or similar encouraging noises, but could hear absolutely nothing until a plaintive voice came from within. "Steve, can you come in a minute please?" I stuck my head round the door and saw her sitting on the edge of the bath, tears streaming down her face. Entering fully, she looked up at me.

"I can't do a thing. I simply can't do a fucking thing! I can't even begin to get my leotard off, I can't turn the taps on. What the fuck am I going to do?" I walked over and tenderly put my arms round her as she held her hands out of the way. Her sobs continued, our bodies pressed together and despite myself I could feel a stirring in my crotch.

"Is there no-one who can help?" I asked as I backed away a little, wishing not for the first time that my wife was still here.

She shook her head. "No. Mum and Dad are away and they're too old anyway. You'll have to do it Steve, you're all I've got and after all you did sign the forms!" She lifted her head and smiled a little, at least that was a start.

"What do you mean?

"You'll have to move in and look after me, Jodie and Susannah are both away so no-one will know."

I thought back to all the help she'd given me in my time of dire need, and knew that I couldn't refuse her. "OK, I'll do it. What will need doing?"

"Cooking, cleaning, and you'll have to help me wash and dress and all that?"

"What? But you're a woman!"

"Ah you've noticed! Well you've seen one before, and anyway we did nearly have sex once!"

"We did not!" I replied indignantly, "We were both drunk and we snogged for ten seconds."

"It was thirty and you groped my titties!"

"I did not, it was an accident, I just brushed it accidentally."

"Well whatever, you can start by getting this off, I must stink." She indicated her leotard. I'd helped Jodie in and out of hers so many times I did actually know how to do it, but it was with some trepidation that I pulled the neck down, and away from her body stretching it so that she could draw her arm back through it. It clearly hurt a little and the cast caught in it a couple of times, but finally one arm was free.

The other one followed a little more easily and I pulled it down to her waist. Her breasts were encased in a plain white bra, fortunately not transparent, but I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable in the groin as I looked down into her cleavage. "Get used to it!" She encouraged.

I knelt down and pulled it down over her hips, then down her legs, conscious that my face was mere inches away from her crotch and all that was hidden beneath her tights. "Right, now the tights." I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pulled them down, expecting to see a pair of sensible panties like her bra. Instead what appeared was the top of a hairy muff!

"You've got no knickers on!"

"You don't wear knickers with a leotard silly!"

"Jodie does!"

"Jodie is thirteen, in time she won't, now get on with it."

"But....."

"Oh for fuck's sake. Just pull the fucking things off and man up!" That was part of the problem, the "man" was trying its best to stand up! I pulled them down and a little precariously she stepped out of them. I was trying desperately not to look, but right in front of me was her pussy, covered in a mass of hair, but I could clearly see her labia and clit. My cock really was starting to intrude on my thoughts now. "Sorry about the hair," she apologised, "there's not much cause to trim it these days." I tried not to imagine that pussy shorn of all hair, but once again my cock twitched.

"Now my bra!" I reached behind her and unsnapped the fastenings, allowing it to fall forward and away from her. Her breasts betrayed her age and her child, sagging slightly, but they were still quite impressive, medium sized with quite prominent nipples. She stood there totally naked in front of me, quite unashamed, having been forced to come to terms with her situation. "Right, now I need to pee."

"What?"

"I haven't been for hours and I'm bursting, lift the loo lid up for me will you." I did so, then chickened out.

"I'll just wait outside until you've finished." My wife and I had always kept our bathroom activities separate, and the thought of watching her pee was uncomfortable for me.

"OK, as you wish, I'll give you a shout." I left and once more sat on the top step, trying not to listen to the splashing sounds, my mind reeling at the realisation of just what I'd let myself in for. Then I remembered my wife and knew that I had no choice.

"Finished!" came the shout. I returned and was surprised that she was still sitting on the toilet. "Sorry, I had a poo as well."

"Oh fuck!" was all that came to mind. I'd wiped bottoms before, well Jodie's but never an adult, not even my wife's in those dark days, and I really didn't know how I was going to cope with it. Trying not to let my feelings show I grabbed some toilet paper as she leaned forward. "Look, I'm probably as uncomfortable about this as you are," Beth attempted to comfort me as I set about the task. Fortunately it wasn't as bad as it could have been and with a flourish I was finished. Beth sat back, "OK, now you need to dry me."

"What do you mean?"

"You need to dry my........pussy." I blinked, then still shocked by all this, tore off a few more bits of toilet paper, now knowing why women get through it at such a rate, and delicately put my hand between her legs which she obligingly opened. I padded along her lips, "A bit harder," she guided, and I felt her lips part under my fingers. "Right that'll do." Relieved, I stood up, realising at the last minute that it put my bulging cock right in front of her eye line.

"Sorry about that," I apologised.

"Steve, I'd be a bit upset if I didn't do that to a man who'd just been stroking my pussy!"

"I wasn't stroking......." I began in my defence until I saw her laughing, then managing to see the funny side of it myself.

"I think the bath will be easier than a shower don't you?" she continued as I realised I was going to have to wash her. I bent over the bath and turned on the taps, letting the water run hot then put in the plug. We both stood there awkwardly waiting for the tub to fill, me trying to avoid looking at her.

"You might want to get out of your clothes as well," she suggested, "You don't have a change here and anyway it'll make me feel more comfortable if I'm not the only one naked." I could see the sense in the idea, but couldn't quite bring myself to remove everything, leaving my boxers on, although they did very little to conceal my rampant cock which, I noticed, Beth couldn't keep her eyes off.

I helped her into the bath and settled her down in the water, ensuring that her cast and bandages didn't get wet. She lay back, immersed up to her neck, clearly relishing the feel of the water. Her breasts were bobbing most attractively, the nipples turning soft and pink in the heat as I tried to think of myself as her carer not her lover. How on earth did gynaecologists cope I wondered, staring at pussies all day. How could they get aroused by their wife's when they got home?

I was jolted from my thoughts by Beth, "Earth to Steve! You can wash me now!" She pointed at a sponge and some shower gel and I squirted some on and squeezed it to get a nice lather. Back first, I though, get an easy start. I helped her sit up and rubbed it all over her back, and around her neck and shoulders, going as far down as I could, then eased her back to rinse it off. She sat up again and I took a deep breath and a little tentatively started to wash her front, starting with her upper chest and then progressing down to her breasts. They were soft and malleable as my hand guided the sponge around and over them, seeing them change shape as it passed by, trying desperately to will any sexual thoughts away.

"Don't forget underneath," instructed Beth, an impish smile on her face. I could swear she was enjoying my discomfort as well as the sensation of someone washing her, as my hands lifted them, passing the sponge below. "Help me up and you can do my legs." I helped her stand, my eyes once more dragged to her hairy mound and the secrets it concealed, as I bent forwards to wash up and down each leg, the sponge, and my hand, coming perilously close to that hallowed place.

I chickened out and passed the sponge over her buttocks, then gathering my courage, down in between her cheeks, washing her crack, over her bum hole and back again. I rinsed the sponge out, more to delay the inevitable as she turned to face me, her forearm braced against the wall for balance and opened her legs slightly. I could see her pussy lips, the water dripping off them, the drops held by her crinkly pubic hair and it was almost as though time had stopped. I reached between her legs, pressing the sponge against her most intimate part and passed it up and down. "A bit firmer please Steve, you've got to get inside a bit more." I complied, my finger easing the sponge between her lips, my cock almost bursting the seams of my boxers.

A low moan escaped Beth's lips, "God Steve, you don't know what that's doing to me, I've not been touched there in years." I did know what it was doing to me, I was harder that I'd been in years too.

"I think you'd better sit down and rinse that off," I croaked, my voice failing me. She sat down, her eyes fixed on my cock as both of us tried to calm down, my heart was hammering in my chest and I could see that she was having some difficulty breathing properly. "Time to get out before you shrivel up," I suggested and once more pulled her up, seeing the water cascade off her lithe body. I steadied her as she lifted one leg to step out of the bath, seeing her pussy momentarily, then she held her arms out as I wrapped a towel round her, thankfully concealing her from my gaze.

Automatically she padded into her bedroom, me following obediently behind her. She stopped by the bed and turned to face me, holding her arms out again to allow me to dry her. I draped the towel over her shoulders, and used the ends to start to dry her front, my hands massaging her breasts through the towel, seeing her nipples once more dark and pebbly. I lifted each breast and dried underneath, then lowered the towel to her waist. Kneeling down, I ran it up and down each leg, trying to focus on each limb and not what was in between them, mere inches from my face.

Finally there was just her pussy left and I stood as she spread her legs open and I put my hand between them, the towel over my fingers, gently drying her. She had her eyes shut, her bottom lip between her teeth as my hand worked back and forth. "I'm so wet," she whispered, confusing me for a second, "and that towel feels so good." Abruptly she settled back on the bed and swung her legs round, her head on the pillow as she opened her legs, her pussy fully exposed.

"I need you to fuck me Steve, I need your cock inside me."

"What about your arm?" I croaked.

"It's my cunt that needs fucking, not my arm, just fucking put it in me." Her eyes implored me and I could resist no longer, dragging my boxers off allowing my cock freedom. I crawled onto the bed, taking care not to disturb her arms which were spread out wide, and knelt between her legs, guiding my hard-on up to her pussy. Then with only a moment more hesitation, pushed it up against her pussy.