Lisa has Lost the Use of Her Hands

"I could sue him."

"You could," then I shook my head, before saying, "But you'd lose."

"He ran over my hands with his big kick ass SUV. "

She then put her hands up in the air, so that I could see them.

I shook my head again, and then I sighed.

"Yes his car did damage your hands, but it was your fault."

She gave me a defiant look, and I thought she was going to say more, but then her face suddenly changed. All the fight had gone out of her.

In a low voice she said, "I guess it was really my fault."

My Mother had been out on her mountain bike. She had gone round a bend too fast and lost control. When the car had hit her she was on the wrong side of the road. Fortunately, the driver had managed to swerve, so it was only her hands that were injured. I was about to remind her how lucky she was, and that it was a miracle that she hadn't been killed, but I kept my mouth shut. She probably wouldn't regard fracturing both wrists, and most of her fingers, as being 'lucky.'

"So what are we going to do?"

She was now a lot calmer, and I even got a smile from her. She was now looking for a solution, rather than ranting about what had happened to her. She was due to be discharged from the hospital in a couple of days, and there was nobody to look after her.

"What about Nicole?"

"I've already told you. She is happy to help, but not for the next two weeks."

"I'm sure if you spoke to her, and explained the situation, she would come straight away."

"She might, but it wouldn't be fair on Tony."

I was now feeling guilty for suggesting it. Her Sister was more than willing to help, but she was her husband's full time carer. Two years ago he had been diagnosed with Motor Neurone disease, and since then his health had deteriorated at an alarming rate. There was a nursing home that was going to take him, so that Nicole could come and look after her Sister, but they were fully booked for the next two weeks. He could go to another one now, but he had stayed there before, and he didn't like it.

"You could ask Aunty Jan."

When I saw the hurt on her face, I regretted saying it. She hadn't seen, or spoken to, her elder Sister, for over a year. And there was a good reason for that. Frank, her long term partner, had left her for Jan.

"Isn't it time to forgive her?"

"No."

It was only what I had expected, but it was worth a try.

"What about your health insurance?"

She shook her head, and then said, "It doesn't cover a nurse looking after me at home."

"I could pay. It can't cost that much."

After she had finished laughing, she told me the hourly rate. It didn't seem too bad, until you multiplied it by twenty four, and then by fourteen. It was an eye-watering amount, and it was a lot more than I could afford. However, I had offered, and I was going to insist, even though I had no idea how I was going to be able to pay it.

"It's a lot, but I should be able to manage."

"Thanks, but no."

I felt relieved, but we were still no nearer to a solution. Then she smiled, and it was a big one.

"I know what we can do."

She was now looking at me, all smug. I just hoped it was something sensible. I asked her what it was. When she told me, I said no straight away.

"Why not?"

"Because."

I then stopped. I couldn't think of what to say next. She had suggested that I look after her. It was a viable option, but it didn't seem right, a Son looking after his Mother.

"You move back in with me, and you work from home."

I thought about it, but not for long. We had discussed all the other things we could do, and this was the only one that would work. When I nodded, she looked relieved.

On Sunday I moved back home, and on Monday morning I set off to pick up my Mother from hospital. When I got there she was already dressed, with all her stuff packed.

An hour later, we were home. I was now at a desk, working on my computer, and Mother was in the living room watching television. So far so good.

In the car she had been in a good mood, glad that she was out of the hospital. I was happy for her, but I was also apprehensive. I was going to be looking after her twenty four hours a day. I would have to do everything for her, because both her hands were in casts, that also covered her fingers. She needed my help with everything, including some things that were very personal, such as going to the bathroom. I had put them to the back of my mind, but now that we were home, it was only a matter of time before I would have to confront them.

When she did eventually call me, I was almost relieved. We could get it out of the way.

We were now in the bathroom, looking at each other. This was going to be embarrassing for both of us.

"I guess we should start."

I nodded, and then I turned my back to her, to give her some privacy.

"James, you need to pull my knickers down."

Then she laughed. I felt such a fool, but it broke the ice. This time when I faced her, I could see that she was more relaxed, and I was as well. However, when I put my hands up her skirt, my body tensed. I then pulled her knickers down in record time. She then sat down, and I looked away. It was a long time before she finished. She must have been holding it in.

"I'm glad that's over and done with. It will be easier next time."

"Yes, but I do hope you are going to pull them back up."

I gave her a wry smile. I hadn't forgotten, and she knew it, she was just teasing me. But now it was my turn.

"Or you could just leave them off."

From the look on her face, I could tell that she thought I was being serious. Then I laughed, and she shook her head. I then bent down, putting my hands on them.

"Not so fast. You need to wipe me."

It took me a few seconds to register what she had said. When I understood what she wanted me to do, I was shocked. I hadn't expected to do that. I thought it was just going to be a quick pulling down, and then back up, of her underwear. But now she was expecting me to touch her.

"Do I have to?"

That got a quick, "Yes," from her.

I wanted to refuse, but I was here to help her, so I should just man up and get on with it.

"What do I do?"

"Pull my skirt up. You need to see what you are doing. Then dab it with some toilet roll."

When my hands were on her skirt, she surprised me by standing up.

"Pull it right up," then she paused, before adding, "You might as well have a good look at it. It will then be less awkward next time. It's just a pussy."

What she had said made sense, but she was playing it down. It wasn't just any old pussy, it was my Mother's.

When she sat back down, her skirt was up to her waist. Her legs were closed, and I could only see her bush, but it was enough to get my heart pounding, and the blood flowing to my cock. I gasped when she opened her legs for me.

"Is that wide enough for you?"

I couldn't speak. She then moved her legs again, opening them even wider, but this time she also leant back. I now had the perfect view. My eyes were darting about, taking in as much as I could.

My Mother was a small woman, just over five feet tall, but big in all the right places. She had breasts that were the envy of all her women friends, and a bottom that men couldn't take their eyes off. Before I hit puberty, she was just my Mother, then after it was different. She became my role model for the women I wanted to date. When I was eighteen, I lost my virginity to a girl that was a younger version of her.

"James!"

I had been staring at her, almost in a trance. When I dabbed her with the tissue, it was with the lightest touch. It made her laugh.

"It's not going to break. You can press harder."

I gave her a nervous smile, and then I tried again.

"That's better. Now move it around to get all the drops."

I did, and then I finished with an upward flick, that made her gasp.

I could feel my cheeks going red, as I mumbled, "Sorry."

I thought she would be angry with me, but she was smiling.

"I thought you men didn't know where that was."

She had made a joke of it, but to me it wasn't funny. It was serious. I had accidently touched her where I shouldn't have, her clit. And, though I was reluctant to admit it to myself, I would like to do it again.

I was now back at my desk, trying to work, but I was finding it difficult to concentrate. I could hear the television from the other room, but that wasn't what was distracting me. I kept thinking about my Mother, or more specifically, what was between her legs. She had let me have a good look at it, and I had taken it all in. I was now remembering what I had seen.

Her labia were small, so her clit was easy to see, even though most of it was within its hood. It was a nice size. Her opening was small, and it looked as if a single finger would fill it up. I just knew that she would be tight. And all of it was framed by her neatly trimmed hair. It was something I had never thought that I would get to see, but I had not only seen it, I had even touched it. It had been brief, and with a tissue in the way, but I couldn't get it out of my head. If I was ever going to get some work done, I would have to go to the bathroom and relieve myself.

Fifteen minutes later, I was more relaxed, and able to work. It had been a good climax, with a slow build-up. I had taken my time, only rushing at the end, as I was imagining my cock fucking her little cunt.

Lunch was nothing special, chicken curry leftover from Sunday. It took a while for me to get used to feeding her. At times I was spooning it in too fast, but eventually I got the hang of it.

"That was delicious. A lot better than the hospital food."

She was being generous with her praise, but I had to agree with her that it was better than what she had been eating recently. The hospital was world renowned, but it wouldn't win any awards for its food.

I finished work at five, and by then there had been another visit to the bathroom with Mother. It had been quick, and uneventful, even though it had been more than just a leak.

Our evening meal was more lavish. I even made a dessert, but it was from a packet.

"If you keep feeding me like this, I'm going to get fat."

Then she laughed. I just smiled, it was nice to see her in a good mood. Afterwards, we sat together on the sofa. Mother picked a film, and despite my initial reservations about it, it was good.

"I enjoyed that. James, will you please get me ready for bed."

"Do you need the bathroom?"

"No."

Then she looked at me, and she was smiling.

"But I would like a bath."

Twenty minutes later it was ready. I had made it deep, and I had added in some bubble bath. The water was hot and foamy, just how she liked it. Now I had to undress her, and that was going to be awkward.

I started with her top. As I unbuttoned it, I didn't look at her tits. However, when it was off, I couldn't help it. I was now staring at them. Two melons squashed into a bra that looked to be too small for her.

"I see that you like my bra."

I muttered a quick, "Yes," and she laughed. We both knew that it wasn't her underwear that I was admiring.

She then turned round so that I could unhook it. When it was off, she turned to face me, stepping back so that I could get a better view of her naked tits.

"You've seen my pussy, so me being topless is no big deal."

It might not be for her, but it was for me. When I was growing up, they were difficult to miss. She must have noticed me staring at them, but she never said anything.

"Will you please finish undressing me?"

I nodded, but I didn't move. My eyes were still fixed on her tits. I had often wondered what her nipples would be like, and now I was seeing them. They were better than I thought they would be. They were quite long, but it was their thickness that was impressive. When I imagined myself greedily sucking on them, I started getting hard.

"James!"

Then she shook her head, before saying, "You men are all the same. When you see a big pair of tits, your brain stops working."

I didn't reply, because I didn't need to. She was right.

Her skirt and knickers came off without any fuss, and I then helped her into the bath.

"I missed this while I was in hospital."

"Be careful with your hands, don't get them wet."

She smiled at me, and then she said, "I know."

The casts were big and chunky, covering her wrists and fingers. They looked a bit like boxing gloves. Apparently, they were water resistant. A few splashes wouldn't damage them, but they shouldn't be immersed in water. They looked heavy, but Mother said they were OK.

"How are your meds?"

"Good, I'm almost pain free."

That didn't surprise me. When we had got back from the hospital, I had googled them. They were strong stuff, and not to be used long term.

Then I remembered something, and I winced. She noticed.

"Are you OK?"

"Yes, it's just something I need to tell you."

Then, after taking a deep breath, I started.

"Your Sister called," I then hesitated, before continuing with, "It was Aunty Jan."

Mother's face now looked like thunder.

"What did the bitch want?"

I sighed, then said, "Can't you two make up?"

She just shook her head.

"She asked if you needed any help. She is willing to come and stay with you."

That got a snort, and another shake of her head.

"You know what really hurt me?"

I looked at her, surprised that she was going to tell me. Since Frank had left her, to be with her Sister, my Mother had said very little about it.

"It wasn't just him leaving me, it was him preferring her to me."

"I guess it's tough when your partner runs off with your Sister."

"It's not who she is, it's what she is."

I was confused, and she must have seen it on my face, because she laughed.

"Jan isn't what you would call a beauty."

Then I understood. My Aunty didn't have the body that Mother had. She was slim, with small tits, and a bottom that was almost flat. You wouldn't climb over my Mother to get to her Sister.

"I thought I had the tits, and the pussy, to keep a man."

So it was her pride that was injured.

"And I never refused him ANYTHING in bed."

I looked at her wide-eyed, and that made her laugh. When she had finished, her anger had gone.

I said, "ANYTHING!"

That set her off again.

I let her soak for another ten minutes, then I started washing her with a sponge. It didn't take me long, and despite the temptation, I kept away from her private parts.

"You are now all nice and clean."

"Not all of me."

"You want me to wash your hair?"

"Next time," then she paused, before saying, "You have missed something."

Then she looked down at her tits.

I sighed, as if I was being asked to do something that I didn't want to do. Mother thought it was funny.

Before I started, I told myself that I was supposed to be cleaning them, and not fondling them. And that's what I did. However, I did spend just a little bit longer than was necessary on her nipples.

"Let me help you out of the bath."

"What about my pussy?"

I gulped. If I put my hand between her legs, would I be tempted to do more than just wash it? In a matter of fact way, she had let me look at it. But that didn't mean that she wanted me to play with it. If this was an incest story, then she would let me, and she would be eager. However, I was wise enough to know that there was a big difference between fact and fiction. In real life if you tried to touch up your Mother, you were going to be in serious trouble.

"James, it's not going to wash itself."

She then opened her legs. As I was about to start, she spoke again.

"Please don't use the sponge. It's a bit rough on my delicate parts."

I squeezed it. It felt OK to me, and she hadn't complained when I had washed the rest of her body with it. Was it her idea of a joke? Her face was serious, and she wasn't laughing, so no.

The water was foamy, so I couldn't see much. But I felt every contour of it. At one point, two of my fingers had briefly entered her. Just the tips. It had taken all my willpower to stop me pushing them deep into her.

"What do you wear to bed?"

"Just a nightie."

"I'll get it. Where is it?"

"Get a clean one. There are two. I want the short one."

I left her in the bath while I went to her bedroom. As I opened the drawer I heard her shout.

"The top drawer, not the bottom one."

I shouted back, "OK."

But it had been too late, I had opened the wrong one. In it was a large black dildo. I took it out and examined it. It was impressive. At least ten inches, and it was thick. It was shaped like a giant cock, and it even had a pair of balls. I have always been satisfied with my own eight inches, but this was making me envious.

After putting her to bed, I went downstairs to watch television. Twenty minutes later I gave up. I couldn't concentrate.

I was now in my bedroom, cock in hand. I couldn't stop thinking about that monster dildo, and my Mother using it to pleasure herself. I was surprised that she was able to take it. I had seen her opening, and it looked so small. It must stretch her to the limit. And was she able to accept the full ten inches? If she could, then she would have no problem with my cock. The thought of me being inside her, was enough to make me come.

The next day was much the same, except that Mother didn't have a bath. Going to the bathroom was now routine, and I was managing to feed her without dropping food on her. I thought that she would be bored with another day of watching television, but if she was, she didn't complain. Every time she wanted the channel changing, she would call me.

At eight she asked me to put her to bed. Her hands had been giving her some trouble, so she had taken extra pain relief. It did the trick, but it had also made her drowsy. I stayed up to watch the game. I even had a couple of beers.

The next day I was up early, but Mother didn't wake until half past nine. I had to stop work to sort her out. It was almost eleven before I was back at my desk. Fortunately I have an understanding boss. She doesn't mind when the work gets done, as long as it's completed before the deadline.

It was now midday, and I was getting worried. There was something wrong with her, but I couldn't put my finger on it. She hadn't said much while I had dressed and fed her, and now it looked as if she was sulking.

"Are you in pain?"

She shook her head.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," then she paused, before adding, "Nothing you can help me with."

I gave her a hug, and she yelped in pain. I stepped back.

"Sorry, I forgot about your hands."

She waved them in front of me, and then in a nasty tone, she said, "Next time be careful."

I said sorry again, and then I left to do some more work. Hopefully, by the end of the day, she would be in a better mood.

But she wasn't. If anything she was worse. I was glad when it was time for her to go to bed. After quickly sorting her out, I went downstairs. I then made myself a nice cup of coffee. As I slowly drank it, I started to relax. After a second cup, I decided that it was time for bed.

When I passed her bedroom, I heard a noise. She was crying. I opened the door. She then stopped, and I got a weak smile from her.

"Is the pain bad?"

She shook her head.

"What is it then?"

"It's nothing."

"It must be something, or else you wouldn't be crying. Tell me."

I looked at her, and she held my gaze for several seconds, before averting her eyes.

"There is something I want to do, but I can't."

She then looked down at her hands.

"I can do it for you."

"I wish you could."

I sighed, whatever it was, she should just tell me.

"I have certain needs. Since Frank left me I have had to ..."

Then it hit me, and I felt my face redden. I knew what she had wanted to say.