Jennifer Unchained

Tessa returned shortly with a small bottle in hand which she put down on an occasional table. She came and sat next to me.

"How do you feel?"

As she spoke, she lightly touched my groin with her fingertips. I didn't mind her touch; in fact it made me stir in the groin. Her gesture took my mind off the matter in hand.

"The alcohol hasn't seriously impaired you then."

I stared at her in incomprehension as she stood up and began to dance to the sultry music playing in the background. "I like this station. It plays chillout music every night at this time."

She danced by herself, not attempting to rope me into her gentle gyrations. Her sinuous moves drew attention to her hips and bust, which she emphasised with soft caresses of her hands. In a way this moment was as surreal as the spying on her sister. We had barely known each other until a few hours before. Then she had 'kidnapped' me, and now she was dancing for my eyes only, like a girlfriend or a sure thing on a first date. Whatever her motive, she took my mind off this peculiar situation and stirred my baser instincts.

She leant down and kissed me gently on the lips. She waited for signs of interest. Satisfied with my expression, she moved away and swayed her hips and ran her hands with more overtly deliberate intent, slowly up and down her body. Just to check on my progress she leant down and felt my crotch again. Its stiffness pleased her, she moved away and continued her impromptu dance. I sat transfixed and growing in tense excitement. Then my heart started to pump urgently as she sensuously pushed her tracksuit bottom down off her hips to reveal small, purple hipster panties. Her hips were shapely and her skin looked flawless. I had no doubts about what was going down here, and unthinkingly I pushed a hand down inside the front of my own tracksuit bottoms to locate my stiffening cock.

She saw my hand movement and she smiled. It spurred her to more exaggerated hip actions as she stepped out of the tracksuit bottom and kicked it to one side. Her legs were long and smooth. She was clad now only in the purple panties and the tracksuit top. The panties hung low enough to expose any frontal public hair as she moved, if she had any. She put one foot in front of the other then retracted it, then extended the other foot. That caused her hips to tip forward one way then the other, provoking flutterings through my nether regions.

I yearned to pull out my cock and wank it furiously, but I resisted. I was unsure of Tessa's intentions, and content to bide my time and let the situation unfold. Yet in the back of my mind I was puzzling at how someone who professed not to want sex could still act so damnably sensuously. There was no doubt she was seducing me, but for what reason?

She was upping the ante now, lifting the hem of her top and slowly pulling it up to just below her bust. She let it drop, to allow my imagination free rein as to the shape of what lay beneath. After several minutes of hip-swaying and tantalising caresses of her bust, she raised her fingers to the zip at the neck of the top. The zip seemed to take an eternity to slip down on its tracks and open up her neck, her chest and then down to her navel. The cut was tight enough to hold her breasts together and emphasise her bust.

My bottom slid forward on the sofa cushion and my knees spread wide. My hand was shoved behind the waistband of my tracksuit bottom and was gently stroking my cock. It took all my self-control to prevent me masturbating furiously to Tessa's stunningly teasing performance.

At last the zip completed its seductive journey southwards and the two halves of the top slipped apart. Two generously fleshy orbs bounced freely, now released from their restraint. My eyes zoned in on two quite large, brown areolae with prominent nipples . They mesmerised me as they swung gently from side to side. My interior was in turmoil with my arousal.

She was evidently enjoying exposing herself, for she moaned with evident pleasure and shook her head as if to awaken herself from a sensual trance. Was this the same woman who could no longer get aroused? Could it be possible that she was cured, or had been misleading me? I would have understood if she was a professional stripper going through the motions for a punter, but not where the dancer derives extreme pleasure from her own exhibitionism.

She was clad now only in those low slung purple panties which teased more for their decent coverage of her nether regions. I longed to admire her body completely unclad. Her eyes met mine and she sighed approvingly at my delirious expression, which I could not hide. She advanced on me, slipping the sides of the flimsy garment slightly down her hips but not yet exposing her pleasure zone. She was playing with me and evidently enjoying it. I hurriedly pulled off my tracksuit top and bottom, to lay myself bare - to indicate my absolute commitment to this teasing game. My cock sprang out with the joy of release, but still I resisted jacking off on it, as I so desperately wanted to do. I also wanted to see how Tessa's game would play out.

She jerked her hips to the rhythm of the music and turned around to swing her bottom. It looked round, firm, and eminently fuckable. She slipped the panties down to her ankles, and tipped her hips alternately to increase my arousal. She turned to face me, with a flushed expression of heightened pleasure on her face, at just how much she could see that I was savouring her performance. She liked to be watched, admired and desired. I zoomed in on her shaved pussy which she flaunted with a forward thrust of her hips then a spreading of her legs. Her clit was visible at the top of her vulva and was framed by generous, dark brown labial wings which quivered as she moved. She was conscious of their movement and shimmied her hips to further exaggerate their movement.

"Do you like?" she asked seductively, dropping slowly to a squatting position and spreading her knees to stretch her vulval lips wide open for my inspection. Such a brazen display sent shivers rippling racing up and down my spine and causing a multitude of quakes in my belly.

She turned and showed me her taut bottom as she bent to pick up the squeezable bottle. It contained some sort of oil which she squirted liberally over her breasts and tummy and sensuously rubbed it into her yielding skin, to the accompaniment of the chillout music and her continuing gyrations. This woman was relentless in her teasing. She languidly smoothed the excess oil run-off down her legs, then turned around and massaged her bottom. Her butt was magnificent and smoothly rounded, a fact of of which she was almost certainly fully aware. When she bent forwards away from me with opened legs, to display her almond-shaped pussy, I leapt up, intent on penetrating her and giving vent to my pent-up arousal. She jerked her body upright and whirled around.

She checked herself, perhaps to avoid a seeming over-reaction. She placed her palms gently on my chest. "No, you can't fuck me. I won't allow it."

I stood aghast, my cock in hand, throbbing fit to burst.

"But you can satisfy yourself any other way you wish. I'll help you."

She dropped forwards onto her hands, and deftly pushed her upper body up onto a handstand, her legs pointed skywards. Slowly and teasingly she spread her thighs apart, to open up her pussy to my inspection. She had guessed that I liked to look, and she fed my voyeuristic tendencies to the utmost. I gazed down at her inviting, but out-of-bounds snatch, in stunned admiration. Her vulva had a generous opening, framed with large labial lips and a pulsating pink interior. Such an overload of visual stimulation was too much for me and triggered the onrush of an orgasm as soon as I began to stroke my pole. "Oh my god," I moaned as I felt the mounting pressure towards a climax swirling around my torso and my balls before rushing to the bottleneck at the base of my shaft. The tingling along my shaft led to an almost burning sensation as the head as my sperm squirted out in spurts onto her perfectly shaped and inviting pussy. To my surprise she sighed loudly and held her position.

I took hold of one of her ankles with my free hand and lowered her down gently onto her back whilst continuing to service my erection with the other. The remainder of my pearly fluid sprinkled her belly and her breasts liberally in copious volumes, much more than when I milk myself.

She chuckled with pleasure and scooped the milky goo from her crotch and smeared it all over her breasts. "Some say it's good for the complexion," she joked, finally stretching her arms above her head with delight.

I sank to my knees, a spent force in several ways, and stared at her spread-eagled body. I could not imagine a sexier sight. I knelt astride her hips and dropped down to rest my upper body on my hands so that I could kiss her, without touching her body. She moaned with delight and arched her back to push her front up to make contact flesh to flesh with my belly, rubbing it from side to side to distribute my cum on my own chest and belly.

"Thank you, thank you," I gushed, like an excited schoolboy, then I kissed her.

She smiled up at me radiantly. "I can't bear intercourse, but I can still enjoy arousing a man and watching him fist himself. It's a great compliment, one I haven't experienced for a long, long time, but I enjoyed it as well.

"Now I think we should go upstairs and clean up."

As we showered together in the master bedroom ensuite, Tessa looked up earnestly at me and asked, "Will you stay the night?"

It was a polite formality and I chuckled.

"Have I any choice?"

Chapter Two

She drove me to the hospital on Tuesday morning. I was wearing one of her father's shirts, although it felt and looked brand new to me.

"Thank you for staying. It was a great comfort to be in a man's arms again, and I could tell that you enjoyed it."

That was the last we spoke on that topic.

It was the second and final day of her course. We agreed not to meet that day for lunch, but that she would collect me at 5:30 outside the hospital grounds.

By the time I was packing up for the day, I was having misgivings about going back to her home a second evening running. I was suffering a mixture of guilt for giving in so easily to sexual provocation, and I had begun to have doubts about Tessa's selfless participation in that unusual encounter.

Nevertheless, I met her at her car at the appointed time and she drove me back to the house once more. There was still a lot of explaining for her to do, to convince me to help with her situation.

I insisted that we stop off at a supermarket to buy some food. I bought some lemon sole, frozen oven chips, samphire, frozen peas and tartare sauce. Pudding was to be apple tart and cream. Tessa wrinkled her nose with mock disapproval at my bizarre menu, but acquiesced. A couple of bottles of 'Entre Deux Mers' White wine from the chiller cabinet were added to help ease the tension as we dined.

On arrival at the house and after we had unpacked the shopping, she led me to the study.

"I'm going to switch on the monitors so that you can see my interaction with Jenny. Then you can cook and we can talk some more."

It felt odd, unsettling, even, to sit and watch in private as Tessa went off to see her sister. When she appeared on camera, Jenny was dancing in her sitting room, again, totally naked. Her carer was sitting in an easy chair watching her and applauding her moves. Jenny had long, flowing light hair, quite a contrast to Tessa. If I thought Tessa was sexy, I suspect she had nothing on her younger sister. It felt prurient to be spying on Jenny, since I assumed she would have been unaware of it.

She shrieked when she saw Tessa, and ran to her and hugged her. She followed that with a full-blooded kiss on the lips which lasted interminably. It appeared more to be the kiss of a lover than a sibling. Then she pushed Tessa onto the sofa and lay on top of her, humping Tessa's clothed leg between her thighs. It was embarrassing to witness, and it surprised me that neither Tessa nor Louise tried to stop her. In fact, they were laughing at her boisterousness. I felt that I was intruding on something intimate, and couldn't bear to watch them any longer. I went to the kitchen to start cooking.

Tessa came in half an hour later. The chips had been cooked and the vegetables lightly steamed. I now only had to fry the lemon sole for a few minutes in butter and serve.

We talked as we ate. Tessa was explaining some more about Jenny's condition.

"What you just saw was probably for your benefit. Jenny knew you were there, watching."

"You think she staged that?"

"She knew you were coming this evening. She doesn't often behave quite so energetically these days. So, yes, I think she knew you were watching.

"When I visited her at the hospital, she was living with five other residents in a purpose-built bungalow in the grounds, with six carers of both sexes, in shifts. The carers watched over the residents during the day and monitored them at night. The residents were allowed out into the grounds, usually accompanied by a carer, either close at hand or at a distance, depending on the circumstances. They are not locked in and as you know, there are no gates at the entrance to the campus.

"Jennifer had run away several times. She was not initially considered a risk to herself, and she found ingenious ways to get out. She was on the pill, which had been administered by the hospital as a precaution. It was just as well because she almost raped a man in a pub on one occasion, in full view of the regulars. I say 'almost', only because once he had got into the groove after he overcame his surprise, he reportedly fucked her silly, but with her apparent consent. He had no means of knowing that she was a mental patient. Then others joined in. They must have thought it was all their birthdays rolled into one. The landlord called the police, not knowing how else to deal with the situation. She might have been sectioned under the Mental Health Act, had the hospital not reported her missing and tracked her down.

"The hospital administered drugs after that to subdue her. When I next saw her, she was like a zombie. I was angry, but I was in an invidious position to criticise their decision, as a mental health practice manager. I was aware of such practices, but had never thought to challenge them before, until my own sister became a victim. I made up my mind to bring her home, once I had arranged for major adaptations to the upstairs to make a secure apartment for her. I also paid for live-in carers for her. I took responsibility away from social services, and agreed to manage her care personally. It was a battle to convince them that I could do so, not helped by my relationship with her as her sister. But there is no law against it, only a statutory duty for Social Services to satisfy themselves of her safety and welfare. The hospital reluctantly discharged her into my personal care.

"I attend safeguarding case conferences about her, and I agreed to undertake specific training to support her. These last two days were a refresher course.

"I normally spend much of my time with her. We even go out in the garden and swim in our pool when it's warm enough. We use technology to keep track of her, and it helps to give her some freedom, if not independence.

"She's a physics graduate and very intelligent. She understands her condition, but isn't worried about it. As far as she is concerned, she should be allowed to do whatever she wants. Of course, she would risk her personal safety if she was allowed to go unchecked. We have to protect her from herself.

"Those clothes in the bedroom that you slept in are all unworn. She had a tantrum early on and managed to evade her monitors and take all our parents' clothes outside at dead of night, under a full moon, and burn them all. The sound of the flames and the crackling of a nearby oak tree which also caught alight, alerted us. The fire brigade attended and there were a lot a questions afterwards. She showed remorse and insisted that we replace the clothes with new. It was a therapeutic project for her to organise it.

"These days she is largely well behaved, apart from the odd tantrum. I detect signs of definite improvement in her behaviour, and think she is ready for us to take our plan to the next stage. We have been waiting for the right opportunity and now, here you are!"

I sat in silence, listening and trying to imagine what life must be like for Jennifer. I knew that the vast majority of the residents in the hospital were severely mentally impaired, many with multiple disabilities. None of the remaining ones there had her level of cognitive ability. I could see how she did not belong in that environment. How had she coped when living there, with the lack of intellectual stimulation? I was glad to see that she had been released into the care of her sister and had thereby gained relative freedom.

"That's a very distressing story, but what do you want of me?"

Tessa shook her head despairingly. "I know all about social care policies, the need for protection of vulnerable adults and so on. But there are no policies for these particular circumstances. When I discuss it with colleagues, I get the same response, which is the official line, cautious and preventative. They won't endorse our approach, but they can't suggest anything better.

"She cannot be relied upon to take full control over her life. How would she ever establish a stable relationship with a man? It is inconceivable that she would be able to date a man under normal circumstances long enough to know whether or not she likes him. Sex would always cloud the issue. She would be ripe for exploitation.

"You're an outsider, Richard. You can bring a fresh perspective to this situation within her own home, as a non-social worker. Can you help us?"

Tessa's story fascinated me, and not just because she was so attractive and happy to shed her clothes on a whim. But I realised then why she had done it: to gain my buy-in to this bizarre situation.

"Did you think that indulging my voyeuristic tendencies last night would persuade me to co-operate?"

"No, I wanted the buzz I got from seducing you. In a curious way, it made me feel like a woman: being exposed to a man and being able to excite him. I got as much pleasure from it as you did, but in a less physical way. There were no strings attached."

I doubted that, but a repeat of it would suit me very well. I prepared to give my answer about helping them.

"I'm not qualified, of course, but I've read case studies under the Supporting People guidelines umbrella, about vulnerable people living in the community. I am as much bound by the principles through my work, as you are as a professional. I know they're not tablets of stone, only guidance. Yet they don't deal with this specific issue. My answer would have to be the same as your colleagues. Since I don't know her, it would take time for me to get to know her, but how that might be arranged would be problematic.

"And me getting involved in sexual practices with your sister might be frowned on by social workers."

"I understand all that. All I'm asking is for you to spend some time, to get to know her. Let her have some sort of relationship with a man in a controlled environment. It might help us to normalise her behaviour. She would always be supervised -"

"What, like she was this evening?"

"That was for your benefit on camera. We simply let her do what she wanted. Look, we have a rationale for how we interact with Jenny. We normally exercise more constraint. But she must be free to express her sexuality, only within constraints to protect her from harm. Most of the time, she manages us. She is almost always in control of her environment within the house."