Erotic Fiction

FREE Sex Cards — The Lady in the Chair

Another card user, but not what I expected!

This is a follow-up to the story FREE Sex Cards (free-sex-cards) but stands alone.

A few days ago, I’d screwed up a deal involving someone that you didn’t mess with. She’d offered me the choice of having several important bones broken and all my assets taken — or a small quantity of this business card being handed out locally.

FREE SEX — 1 hour trial!

I’ll do anything for you!

Quick response!

Call “D” on the number over!

Given that I was a big fan of my bones staying the way they were, there was no real choice. Not quite blackmail, more heavy pressure — but the result was the same.

I was fairly conservative when it came to sexual matters, liking to take my time to get to know a man before inviting him to move on to other things. And that was the point. I’d messed up her deal, and cost her money, so she was going to mess things up for me.

As I was now broke, and didn’t have much going for me at the moment, then there were only limited things she could do. This seemed particularly inventive though.

It hadn’t taken long for calls to start coming in, which wasn’t a great surprise really! From the conversations I had with people, it seemed that many thought this was a scam of some kind — but they were interested enough to call the number anyway.

Others, such as the one on the end of the line at this moment, thought it was a clever advertising campaign. Give your potential clients a free trial, a sample of the goods on offer, and they would be sure to come back.

I wasn’t going to say so, but was not convinced that that strategy would work when it came to sex. Wouldn’t most people just take the sample and move on, the same way I did when trying out new flavours of ice cream in the store? Mind you, some of that must work, or the producers wouldn’t keep pushing their wares in that manner.

This caller though was hoping that I had a male partner working with me so that she could use his services. She’d rung thinking that this might be an agency of some kind with multiple staff rather than an individual such as myself.

Once that was cleared up she was hesitant, but still wanted to go ahead. We arranged the time and place — this afternoon at her home — and then ended the call.

When I’d been presented with these cards I’d had a number of fears. A large number! I wasn’t keen on following through with individual men, but at least that was ‘normal’ for me.

A much lesser thing, but still new to me, would be getting together with another woman. Something that was now about to happen. Sure, I’d had those thoughts once in a while — especially when younger — but who didn’t? Acting on them was a very different thing though.

It was only when she opened the door that my brain processed what I’d been looking at. I’d gone up a couple of steps to her front door and had barely registered the ramp at the side leading to the same point. Her being in a wheelchair made total sense of that.

This took me aback and made this even more outside of my comfort zone. It was going to be a completely new thing doing it with a woman, although I’d known that much when driving over, but her being disabled added a level of complexity in my mind.

If it was an accident she was going to get better from then they’d not have bothered with the cost and effort of the permanent ramp. This was more than that, something serious or a birth thing.

As requested, she gave me the business card as I entered her place. Someone had posted the details and phone number from it online and some guys had tried to get me into bed without having the actual piece of paper.

Now, I wanted to see a picture of the card before engaging for long in any phone conversation and needed the thing in my hand before anything physical happened. What I was doing was bad enough, I didn’t need others taking advantage of me — at least more than was already occurring.

It was only after taking that from her, and putting it away securely, that I took a look at her. With other people I’d have done this already, but the chair she was in had taken my first attention. It was only after mentally processing that that I actually looked her over.

Probably in her mid-forties, but could be a little older. Nice face, framed by shoulder-length brown hair. Cute enough, but just hitting that point in life where a woman loses some of the vitality in her skin. Menopause coming maybe? My mother was there and before her HRT patches had really started showing her age.

She was wearing a dress that covered much of her legs, but I could see that both existed. That was a relief as I’d had a sudden vision of my getting down and dirty with someone that… No, I needed to stop that thought. We are all worthy of sex, no matter our body shape and form.

As I came inside, and pushed the door closed behind me, she wheeled back from the hall into a living room. Following her, I could see that the other end of the room — probably the dining area — had been converted to a bedroom.

“So,” I said, pulling out my phone and setting the timer to count down for an hour, just as I had with other people in this situation, “what would you like from me.”

“As I told you on the phone, I’ve not had an orgasm that wasn’t from my own hands for more than a year now.” She gestured at her body in the chair. “You can see why. Adjusting to this after my accident has been bad enough, but getting out and dating has not factored in with my life recently.”

She was obviously a little embarrassed at talking that way and saying this to a stranger, but good for her in maintaining eye contact as she did. And at least that had answered one of my questions. An accident. Bummer. There but for the grace of God and all that.

“Ideally, I’d have preferred a man to have answered my call, or at least be available. Or that’s what I first thought. Now though, I’m thinking this might be better. I’ve been bi, sort of, for a while. Doing this for the first time after so long with you might be perfect. Especially now that I’ve seen you.”

I blushed at the compliment but acknowledged it. I did look pretty damn good.

When answering these summonses I made sure to get everything in place and glam myself up a little. I’d been told that there would be at least one ringer in the set-up who would report back to her, so I needed to be as close to perfect as I could for these… clients?

A summer dress had become my norm as it not only looked sexy as hell on me, but came off easily. I wanted something to slip off with a minimum of fuss, but that would also go on again in the same way so that I could make a quick getaway to avoid awkwardness or any issues once all was done.

My hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. That kept it out of the way but was also simple to let down if a man wanted to see it released. That moment where you set it free and whoosh it around got quite a few guys’ attention.

Apart from that, I had minimal make-up on (as I didn’t need it) and some low heels on my feet. No underwear, as I figured it was coming straight off and could get misplaced.

“What I want is fairly basic, at least for a practitioner like you. I want to make out. To feel your touch on my body, and then orgasm. Multiple times, if possible, but I’ll take whatever I can get in the time we have.”

I could, maybe should, have corrected her, as she clearly thought that I was a professional sex worker. Understandably, given the circumstances. The truth would have taken some time though, and I was reluctant to tell her anyway. Far better to let it go and move on.

At my query of where she wanted to do this, gesturing at the sofa and over to the bedroom, she responded by wheeling over the wooden floor (carpets removed for her ease of movement, I wondered) to the bed.

As she set the brakes and then started to ease herself out, I offered to help, but she shook her head and smiled. As she swung herself onto the bed it was clear that this was a well-practised manoeuvre. If she’d been doing this for over a year, then it should be by now.

I’d wondered how much movement she had in her legs, but it was soon apparent there was none, or near enough none anyway. She lifted them individually onto the bed cover and then lay down, leaning on one elbow and looking up at me.

So then.

We’d had a little bit of interaction and I liked the feeling I had from her — and also felt sorry for her. She was attractive, even though much older than me. We could have been… I’m not sure what exactly, but certainly friendly towards one another in other circumstances.

And now I was sitting on the edge of the bed next to her, gently running my hand down her arm, touching her soft skin. Looking into her eyes as she smiled back up at me — with a hint of nerves, I thought.

Which was perfectly reasonable, as I was trying to conceal my own. I wasn’t really interested in other women in this way. I’d kissed a couple of girls, playing spin the bottle back in High School, but had no interest in more than that silly experimentation. And even then, I had been trying to aim the thing at a particular guy I fancied.

It’s not like I thought one time was going to make me a lesbian or something, especially as I was going into this as a forfeit. Although it was very different from my teenage games it seemed sensible to think of it in that way. Something to laugh off after I’d left the encounter.

So then. Again.

There was no way to avoid this, so the best thing that I could do was throw myself into the engagement. I leaned over her, dipped my head, and kissed her lips. Just a quick in and out the first time, to test the waters, but then with more pressure and intent.

With my eyes closed — my default when kissing seriously — this wasn’t much different than with most guys. Not that I was trying to compare, I didn’t want to keep thinking of the differences, just get this done.

I ran a hand over the skin of her bare arm, pausing at her wrist to stroke the inside. There was a spot there that I always found sensitive, tingly, and deeply erotic when touched. I’d never asked other friends whether they felt the same, but hoped this lady would get something from it.

Her breathing was heavier than I’d expected and she was making soft moans as we made out. That gave me pause.

I’d made an error in my thinking. I was initiating this as if it was the start of the encounter but, for her, I was betting it had started some time ago although I’d just arrived on the scene.

I’d been caught up in my life. Getting changed for the encounter, arriving at the right place at the right time, and thinking through possible scenarios. What I’d not really considered was her position.

She’d also been thinking about this, but in a different way than I. This wasn’t a chore to be marked off the list. This was a sexual encounter — and I bet she’d been getting herself mentally prepared for this. Physically too, quite likely.

She wasn’t going to need a whole lot of tender, soft, and careful foreplay. This lady was good to go. Hot to trot.

If it had been me sitting around the house waiting for a lover to arrive I’d have been touching myself in anticipation. Now that I was aware of what I was looking for, I was pretty sure she had been as well.

I didn’t bother with a light brushing of her breast, part of the slow build-up I’d been thinking about, and instead took a firm grip and squeezed. For a woman of her age they seemed just the right blend of soft and solid, and, given that she was flat on her back and my smaller ones would have almost disappeared, she was generously proportioned.

Her nipples were small but rock-hard. It wasn’t like that was a one hundred per cent indicator that I was on the right lines, but it supported my supposition rather nicely. As did the increased level of moaning that she was trying to let out as we kissed.

I straddled her, checking that this was fine with her before putting my weight down. The last thing I wanted here was to aggravate whatever the issue was that had brought her health to this point!

Pushing her strap down revealed breast number one and, while I started kissing that, I popped the other out as well. One of my favourite things was having my tits played with, kissed and sucked on, and I went to town on hers.

When I let loose I could be a moaner, and so, it seemed could she. She had unusually thick areola and as I sucked one whole into my mouth, tonguing the nipple as I did, she moaned and bucked in sheer pleasure.

She’d said that she’d not been with anyone for a while and that story certainly added up from the way she was reacting. Although, maybe this was normal for her!

It was only fair to switch between her breasts, kissing my way slowly over, and treating the second as I had the first. Small nips between my teeth, gentle — but not too much so — and then doing my best to swallow as much of the thing as I could.

I’d not asked about her downstairs area, I just wasn’t sure how to do so tactfully, but was pleased to find that whatever the issue with her back and legs, her pussy seemed to be fully functioning when I touched her there under her dress. No panties getting in my way.

Not only was she already nicely lubricated, but it was evident that she still had feeling when she bucked as I slid my fingers across her. A nice response, and I couldn’t help but grin to myself as I carefully moved my weight from her and down onto the mattress between her legs.

Flipping the fabric out of the way I kissed her thigh and then started working my way up. The first scent of a pussy other than mine took me by surprise. I’d expected something off-putting, but wasn’t sure why. Mine wasn’t, but there was something in my head that seemed to think that this should be an unpleasant experience, and so anticipated that this would be.

She wasn’t as neat and tidy down there as I was, neither in the way of hair, nor in folds of the skin. I had neither of those things and quite liked the way she was different — at least at first.

A guy I’d been out with had once called going down on a previous girlfriend ‘going flossing,’ and I soon found myself agreeing with him. Using my lips to kiss her folds, and my tongue to try and set her tingling as I explored her wrinkles, I found hair in my teeth and a need to try and tactfully splutter a little to get it back out.

Hell, she was close enough to my mother’s age! No wonder she wasn’t shaved. Wasn’t that a thing for younger people, my age group and those still dating? Her peers were probably all past that and in relationships where grooming down there didn’t matter so much anymore.

Diving back in, I took more care. My tongue went out and pushed into her again, giving her what I enjoyed so much. I just made sure to casually lick her inner thigh before it came back into my mouth, depositing any unwanted material before it tickled my tongue and made me gag.

My fingers started combing through her hair and into her as well. Thumb to clit and fingers to her pussy entrance, and just inside. She didn’t need any deep penetration just now. The noises she was making and the juices becoming more abundant showed that.

Finger fucking isn’t something that gets widely discussed as a sexual technique, but it should be high on the agenda for those needing education in such matters.

Sometimes a cock is great, sometimes just a gentle touch can get your motor running. However, I’ve always found a set of fingers used with varying pressure and speed can match most things — and no batteries are needed.

One more thing would be needed to tip her over the edge, so I believed, and while the duties so far had not been anywhere near as bad as I’d thought, I actually looked forward to this, or at least seeing her reaction.

If you took a cock out of the equation, then for me the ultimate combo came down to a set of fingers inside me, flicking over the clit as well, the other hand squeezing my tits — and not always gently, but varying things as a little pain could enhance the experience — and then being kissed.

Kissing, of course, could just refer to the lips, but cheeks, ears, throat, and boobs should ideally all be taken in as well. An onslaught of feeling over the whole body like that was something that I loved myself and now gave to… her.

I’d not asked for a name when I arrived, as sometimes it was better not to have a tag to remember things by, but I might do when this was over.

She was getting more than wet down there, which was another reason for good grooming, I thought. This was going to be icky and need more than a wet wipe to clean up. Nipples hard to the touch (and to the bite as well as I nibbled on them), skin highly flushed, breathing heavy and laboured. All good.

“Fuuuuucckkkk!”

I kept going, roaming over her entire body, as she climaxed. Loud and uninhibited — just as I liked it! She had a couple of what I called aftershocks, and I wanted to keep the thing going as long as possible before collapsing half on her and finishing with some deep sloppy kisses.

It was a while before either of us moved, or spoke. A time when it was just nice to lie in the other’s arms and gently caress their skin while coming down from the heights.

“You’ll still have plenty of time on the clock,” I said, “how about we clean up together, you certainly need it. Have a little fun in the shower. Or share a bath?”

My mouth had run away with me at first, as I’d momentarily forgotten her condition. A standard shower wasn’t going to be an option, but that shouldn’t spoil the fun — just alter it somewhat.

“No joy.” She replied to me. “The main bathroom is upstairs and I’m still waiting on funding for a stairlift, which is why I’m sleeping in here. There’s a downstairs toilet, but unless I want to haul myself up one stair at a time then I’m limited to washing at the sink.”

Fuck. I’d put my foot right in it there.

That was bloody terrible though. It wasn’t like I knew her well, but I had a good vibe from her and wished her happiness.

“Look,” I said, “this might be a bit out of line, but how about if I helped and lent a hand with getting you upstairs so we could clean and play together? And back down later, of course.”

“I’d love that. Love it. But I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

I smiled as she spoke, at the mixed look of hope and trepidation on her face. Then leaned over for a kiss before moving across to gently nibble on her ear before speaking in reply, whispering softly.

“Don’t worry,” I said, “ I fully intend to take advantage of you!”

A number of people wrote stories using the original prompt. Some were light and humorous, sweet and romantic, but most were dark and dirty!

I’ve put all of the stories into the list below to gather all the stories together!

As for me, I write erotic stories, some of which are true and about my life, including nude ‘dares’ and similar stupidities. I also write articles about writing and stories of sex, so please look at my profile for other things!

And, if you like any of them, then please leave ‘claps’ (maybe 50?) or replies so that I know!