Lending a Hand (A Pandemic Story)

Before I could even nod my assent, I felt her right arm reach around my side and gently take hold of my cock. Then I felt her left arm come around my left side. Hugging me from behind, her chin resting gently on my right shoulder, she began to pump my cock with both of her hands. Not as desperate for release this time, I focused on enjoying every moment, letting her take her time. Over the course of several minutes, she gradually built from a slow pace to a more energetic one. Finally, after many blissful minutes, I reached my limit. I blurted out "oh god" and then several spurts of cum shot out onto the bathroom floor. When she was sure I was done, I felt her kiss me gently on the side of my neck; then she stood up and finished rinsing me off.

The days that followed played out very similarly. Every day she'd stop by at some point before noon. Every day we'd get naked and shower together. And every day, she'd finish the shower by relieving me of my raging erection. The only thing that varied a bit was the way she'd do it. Some days she'd use the reach around technique from behind me. Some days she'd lean in from my side. My personal favorite were the days she'd kneel down right in front of me, giving me an unobstructed view of her perfect breasts. These sessions would inevitably end with my cum landing somewhere on her chest. They also felt more intimate because we would often lock eyes, including at the moment of orgasm.

In my free time, which I had quite a lot of, I fantasized about Mitsuki constantly, about what it would be like to have a more mutual sexual encounter with her, or what it would be like to see her climax. Often, during our sessions in the shower or in the time right afterward, while we were both still naked, I wondered how she would react if I tried to push things further. What if I leaned over and kissed her? What if I led her to the couch and went down on her? What would it be like to have my cock inside her? What sounds did she make when she came? My mind raced.

But I didn't want to overstep. She was a married woman, and I was completely dependent on her for basic survival, at least until my bandages could be taken off. And she'd given no indication that she wanted anything more, that what she was doing was anything other than an act of kindness to me, a way of taking care of me and showing her gratitude for what I'd done. I didn't want to ruin what we had, to violate whatever boundary existed in her mind. In fact, as much as I wanted to be able to use my hands again, I knew that as soon as I could, our daily sessions would almost surely come to an end. And that was a sad thought.

BITTERSWEET RECOVERY

The only other regular human contact I had over this period was with the nurse that the hospital sent to me every 4-5 days to unwrap and redress my bandages. Normally, someone would go to the hospital for this kind of thing, but due to COVID precautions, they decided to do it via house call. On the fourth of these visits, about two and a half weeks post discharge, the doctor who had treated me in the hospital showed up along with the nurse to check on my state of recovery. When he unwrapped and removed the bandages, he poked and prodded the skin on my hands. While still very sensitive, it felt much better, much more normal than the last time he had done this. He looked pleased.

He spoke in fast Japanese, and the nurse, who spoke decent English, translated for me in case I wasn't following it all (which I appreciated). He said that I was making an excellent recovery, even faster than he had anticipated, and that he thought I could take off the bandages permanently after one more week. As crazy as it sounds, literally the first thought that popped into my head upon hearing this news was: that means only 6 or 7 more showers with Mitsuki.

Because of the morning doctor's visit, Mitsuki showed up a little later in the day than normal. When I shared with her the news that I only had one more week to go until my bandages would be removed, she immediately hugged me and said "sugoi, desu ne!" (roughly translated: "that's so great!").

When it came time for my shower, everything proceeded more or less the way it had for the last two weeks. After washing my hair and the rest of my body, Mitsuki came around in front of me, sat down on her knees, and set the shower nozzle back on its stand. But unlike our normal routine, she didn't use the loofah to soap up my cock. As I was puzzling over this, she looked up at me and said: "To celebrate your good news." And then she leaned down and took my cock into her mouth.

It happened so quickly and unexpectedly that I nearly toppled off the stool in surprise. This was something I'd fantasized about repeatedly over the last few weeks, and now I could hardly believe it was happening. Her lips moved up and down my cock with just the right amount of pressure, while she used her hands to cup my balls and the base of my shaft. It was magical. A perfect blow job.

It lasted for at least five minutes as she slowly built up her pace and brought me nearly all the way to orgasm. Then, somewhat abruptly, she sat back up and looked at me. She said: "stand, please." I was confused but did what I was told. As soon as I was standing, she resumed sucking my cock, her hands now grabbing and squeezing my ass. After a minute or so, she again pulled back, letting my cock fall out of her mouth, and she stood higher on her knees, so that my cock rested between her breasts. With one of her hands, she grabbed the loofah from the shower floor and then squeezed some soap suds out over my cock and her breasts. She then used her hands to squeeze her breasts together, sandwiching my cock in between them like a hot dog in a bun. She began moving up and down. Impossibly aroused, I could barely control myself and began pumping my hips and thrusting my cock up through her soapy breasts. When I couldn't hold back any longer, I grunted and came, looking down at Mitsuki's eyes, which were locked on mine. Spurts of cum shot up onto her neck, causing her to giggle.

When it was all over, we cleaned up and got dressed. I still couldn't quite believe what had happened, but the fact that it had happened made it hard for the part of my brain that had been trying to keep my fantasies in check to do its job. For weeks, I had been telling myself that this was it; it would never be more than a handjob, that I needed to keep myself in check and not let my hopes or expectations venture into unrealistic territory. But this escalation made it hard to keep those desires contained. I desperately wanted more. I wanted all of her.

THE FINAL WEEK

My dreams were soon dashed, however, as the blowjob/titjob incident was not repeated. It seemed to be a one-off special occasion kind of thing. The rest of the week, the routine went back to what it had been before. Shower and a handjob. Not that I had any right to complain, but once you've crossed a threshold like that, it's difficult to go back. It almost felt boring by comparison. It's amazing how quickly you can get used to such luxuries. Three weeks before, I would have chewed off my own arm for the chance, just once, to have a beautiful woman like Mitsuki jerk me off in the shower. It would have seemed like an impossible fantasy as I sat alone in my house, helpless. And now it was a bit of a let down.

That said, it was a helluva lot better than nothing, and as my bandage removal date drew closer, it began to really hit me that it was all going to end very soon. I would soon be on my own again.

The day before I was scheduled to get my bandages removed began like every other day. Mitsuki arrived, gave me food, brushed my teeth, and helped with the laundry. And then it came time for what I expected would be our last shower together. The shower also began just like all of the others. She took my clothes off and then her own. She washed my hair and soaped me down. Knowing that this would likely be our last shower together, I really tried to soak it all in (pardon the pun). I admired her beautiful body. I replayed in my mind all of the different times and different ways she'd gotten me off. I was determined to derive the maximum amount of pleasure and enjoyment from this last session, to truly appreciate the moment for what it was.

When she was done cleaning me off, she came around to the side of me; she reached over with her right hand and began to fondle my cock, which was already as hard as could be in anticipation of this last moment of intimacy. She touched it very gently, slowly, much less hurried than normal. She stared at it, seemingly focusing on the slow movement of her fingers across my cock, as if she too was realizing that this might be our last time together and she wanted to stretch out the moment and make it last. Unlike normal, she had not yet used the loofah to lubricate my cock. As I realized this, I wondered if I might again get the "special occasion" treatment I received the week before, and my hopes leapt. But she made no move to go down on me. She merely sat there, on her knees, staring intently at my cock as she slowly stroked it in her hand.

Several minutes, at least, passed before I realized what else was different. She was only using her right hand. She normally used both. Because of the way she was sitting, just to my side, I couldn't see her left arm and had assumed it was just resting at her side. But as I glanced down to my side, I could just make out her other hand; it was wedged between her own legs. She was touching herself; I was sure of it. I immediately looked away, not wanting to let her know that I'd seen her, not wanting her to stop. I noticed that she was avoiding all eye contact. I suspected that she didn't want to betray that she was pleasuring herself as well, knowing that I'd be able to see it on her face. This also explained why she was going so slowly; she wanted to come too, and she didn't want me to reach the finish line without her.

It continued like this for quite a while, but I could tell from her breathing, as well as the gradually increasing pace of her stroking of my cock, that she was making progress toward her own climax. As she got closer, she made less effort to hide what she was doing, or at least her mounting pleasure betrayed those efforts. On a few occasions, faint whimpers of pleasure escaped from her lips. Her breathing became more rapid, as did mine. I was so turned on that I didn't know how much longer I could last.

Then came the moment I'll never forget as long as I live. As if sensing that I was getting too close, she stopped abruptly. After a pause, she said: "I forgot the loofah." With her right hand, the one she had been using to stroke my cock, she pointed to a spot about four feet in front of me. The loofah she had used to wash me sat there, discarded in the corner. Slowly, deliberately, she maneuvered around in front of me. She was on her knees now with her back facing me. With an exaggerated, deliberate motion, she bent forward, stretching her arm out to reach for the loofah. As she did so, she seemed to intentionally lift her ass into the air toward me. I was stunned. She was now on her hands and knees directly in front of me, her exquisite ass protruding toward me, less than a foot away from my cock. And she seemed to be in no hurry to actually retrieve the loofah.

I don't know how long I sat there, staring at her ass. It seemed like a long time but may only have been a few seconds. However long it was, what happened next was much more of an instinctual, primal response than a deliberate action. I leaned forward, my knees coming to rest on the bathroom floor, just behind her. I was so close to her that my cock came to rest on the crack of her ass. When she felt it, she didn't pull away. Instead she began moving her hips back and forth, causing my cock to slide up and down the crack of her ass, the warm shower water splashing over my back and onto her, lubricating everything. Then, very slowly, she moved forward just enough for the tip of cock to slip down to the edge of her pussy. With impressive skill, she then pushed back gently. My cock slid inside her wet opening just a little. Once she was sure it was in, she pushed back more firmly and my cock drove into her completely, causing her to gasp.

I stood perfectly still as she began pushing her hips back and forth frantically, as our wet bodies made loud slapping noises with every thrust. She had clearly been on the verge of coming before, so it didn't take her long to get back to that point. She was moaning, almost squealing, in pleasure and after a few more seconds she yelled "iku! Iku!" ("I'm coming") and her whole body shook and spasmed. Not knowing whether it was safe to come inside her, I pulled back and let my cock slide out of her. Though she was still shaking, she immediately reached back with her right hand and grabbed my cock, tugging it firmly and pushing me over the edge. My cum shot out across her back. Then she seemed to collapse onto the bathroom floor, letting the water run over her.

Eventually, we both got up and she rinsed us off. We didn't say a word to each other, but as we stood there naked, she lifted herself up on the tips of her toes and kissed me once very quickly on the lips. Then she smiled warmly before getting back to the business of drying us off and getting us dressed. We didn't discuss what had happened in the shower. Once we were both dressed, she left quickly, saying that she'd be back around dinner time.

THE LAST MEAL

All that afternoon, I kept replaying our last encounter in my mind. It had all happened so quickly, and yet it had somehow far surpassed every fantasy involving Mitsuki that I'd had over the last month. While there was no question that she was responsible for the escalation -- it had been her choice -- I wondered whether it was premeditated or whether her desire in the moment had just overcome her judgment. I suspected the latter. But if that was the case, how would it be when she stopped by later? Would she be racked with guilt? I'd soon find out.

That evening she stopped by, as usual, with dinner for me. From her smile and tone, there was no indication of awkwardness or guilt, but also no indication that anything had changed between us. It was just like every other night. She indicated for me to sit at the table as she opened a container with some strawberries and other assorted fruit. She would often start with a fruit course, knowing how much I loved fresh fruit of any kind.

She was wearing a loose sweater and some tight yoga pants that showed off her amazing slender legs and ass. I couldn't help staring at her, the events of the morning still occupying most of my headspace. Before I knew it, I could feel myself getting erect, could feel my cock forming a visible bulge in my sweatpants. When Mitsuki came over to me with the container of fruit, I knew she noticed; I saw her eyes lingering for a moment on the bulge in my pants as she sat down next to me. She put a small strawberry in my mouth. As I began chewing it, I was momentarily startled when I felt her hand on my thigh. A second later, her left hand was cupping my erection over my pants as her right hand fed me another small strawberry.

Then, with surprising strength, she reachout down and turned my chair, with me still sitting on it, about 90 degrees until I was facing her. She then reached down and pulled down on both sides of my sweatpants. I lifted my hips slightly to help, and before I knew it, my pants were at my ankles and my cock was out in the open. With one hand, she reached out and began stroking it. With the other, she reached over and gave me another piece of fruit.

Then she stood up and very matter-of-factly began sliding her yoga pants down her hips until they were off entirely and she was standing there in nothing but her panties and her red sweater. Then she removed her panties, leaving just the sweater. A moment later she reached over, grabbed a larger strawberry and put it in my mouth. As I began to chew it, she straddled the chair I was sitting in and slowly lowered herself over me. I felt her hand touch my cock and a moment later felt it sink into her already wet pussy until she was resting on my thighs. Then she leaned forward and began to kiss me. Other than the brief peck on the lips after the shower that morning, this was the first time we had kissed. And it was very different. She was genuinely kissing me now, mouth open, her tongue meeting mine, and the taste of strawberry everywhere. She slid slowly up and down on my cock, kissing me all the while with real passion. But despite the intensity and intimacy, there was nothing hurried about any of it. The pace reminded me of the beginning of our shower earlier. She was taking her time, enjoying the moment.

Once in while, she would break away from the kissing and grab another piece of fruit to feed me. Once I'd eaten it, she would resume kissing me. This went on for quite a while. But as amazing as it was, I wanted more. I knew this might be my last time alone with Mitsuki, and I wanted to mix things up a little. So, being careful to lift her with just my arms, not my hands, I hugged her tightly and then stood up, lifting her with me. She was remarkably light. I carried her over to my couch and gently set her down. As soon as I did so, she quickly removed her sweater. She had no bra underneath, so she was now completely naked. She beckoned me forward. I got down on my knees on the floor in front of the couch and leaned in to kiss her breasts, something I'd been dreaming of doing for so long. She moaned. Instead of moving up to her lips, however, I next moved in the other direction, kissing her stomach and hips and eventually making my way down between her legs.

With my tongue I circled her lips, teasing her, before eventually focusing my attention on her clitoris. As I used the tip of my tongue to slowly circle and lap at it, she began to moan more loudly. Before long she was breathing heavily and vocalizing loudly. She was also running her fingers, somewhat frantically, through my hair as I continued to work on her with my tongue.

After a few more minutes, it was clear she was nearing orgasm. But before she got there, I felt her lean forward and put a hand under my chin. She lifted my chin up so I was looking at her. Then she said, breathlessly, "not yet." She pulled me up until we were kissing again and my cock was lined up with her pussy. And no sooner was I in that position then I felt her hand guiding my cock back inside her. She gasped again as I plunged my cock in all the way. "So good," she mumbled, almost to herself, "so big."

She was sitting upright on the edge of my low couch as I continued to kneel on the floor in front of her. She had both arms wrapped around my neck for support. She would kiss me for a while and then lean back, her arms still around my neck, and look down at my cock as it disappeared and reappeared, thrusting in and out of her. She appeared to be mesmerized by the view. After several minutes of this, her breathing became more rapid and frantic; the change in activity had delayed it, but she was once again getting close to orgasm. As was I.

But this wasn't the position I wanted to finish things in. So I gently leaned her back and turned her to the side, so she was on her back lying down on the couch. Then I climbed on the couch with her, on top of her, maneuvering myself between her legs, which were now raised high in the air. With her help, my cock was soon back inside her. I started out slowly but quickly built up speed, plunging as deeply as I possibly could inside her with every thrust, our bodies slapping together loudly. Mitsuki's moaning was now loud and relentless. We were both sweating. This was the opposite of the unhurried love making we started out with at the table. This was frantic, uninhibited, animalistic. We were fucking, and we were both about to come.