Chapter 9
The morning of the day I checked out of the hospital, I was surprised to see Amy come in and start preparing for a sponge bath. I'd been showering on my own for the last two days, but I didn't question her at all. The procedure was a little different this time. Instead of covering the parts she wasn't actively working on, she stripped me down completely. This would be the first and last time she saw me without any casts. I had lost quite a lot of muscle mass all over, so I was pretty scrawny, but she didn't care about that. In fact, she skipped my upper body altogether and then skipped my legs, too. I had happily cum in her presence many times during my stay, but in accordance with our agreement, we never reacted to it at all, never acknowledging any pleasure derived from the act.
But this time, this was different. She didn't put the latex gloves on. And she was using body lotion, not soap. There was no point in pretending that this was going to be anything like a sponge bath; it was a very erotic hand job session, plain and simple. She took her time, massaging my balls before moving on to my dick, and that first touch, it was electric. She started stroking slowly, gradually speeding up until it was time. I cried out as the first shot of hot come burst from my cock, straight up. Almost hit the ceiling. That first load landed right at the top of her forehead, getting just a little in her hair, quite a bit on her face from forehead to chin, and a pretty good puddle ended up on the front of her shirt. It was the first and last time for me to cum on her body. She kept milking as I came, getting every last drop; it was the first and last time for that, too. I looked into those beautiful green eyes for the last time, and thanked her profusely. She just smiled and said good-bye as she walked out the door.
Getting dressed was a bit of a chore. Mom had provided a warm-up suit of a light-weight polyester, light gray in color, t-shirt, socks & sneakers, and white briefs. I had Wanda and another female aide helping me get dressed. I was really enjoying the attention. I had learned from my hospital experience just how hot it is to be a naked man in a room full of clothed women. I actually didn't know it was a recognized fetish until later. I had already decided to go commando if I could get away with it. I feigned trouble with the briefs, complained of hip pain as they were being pulled up. Wanda suggested leaving them off, as the warm-up pants had looser elastic and a draw string, and so could be pulled up without putting pressure on my hip. "Excellent!" I thought.
I caught sight of myself in the mirror; I had a bit of a stiffy from the incidental contact of getting dressed, and there was no hiding it. Even though the pants were loose fitting and hung down in folds, you could easily make out the outline of the head of my cock. When I reached a flaccid state, I found that if I stood still, it was possible for a person to not notice, but any movement causing my dick to swing about gave it away. I didn't even want to consider what an erection would look like in those pants. I began to understand that any time I didn't wear underwear, in any kind of trousers, I wouldn't be able to hide my dick completely. That thought brought on a warm feeling, as I considered the possibilities, and my dick started to rise. It looked positively obscene as I stood there watching. I had the impulse to quickly sit down, to hide it from the ladies; then I realized, "I'm checking out of here; I'm not likely to see them again, what the hell." That thought added more fuel to the fire. The fabric was too lightweight and loose fitting to contain my erection, so as my cock rose it began to stick straight out lifting my pant leg several inches.
"Oh my goodness," said Wanda with a big smile, "You don't want your mom to see you like that." I tried to act embarrassed, trying to hide my erection with my hands. The ladies just laughed, and Wanda said, "Stephen, you should know by now you can't cover that thing with your hands." I just said, "Oh" and stood there with a concerned look on my face, trying to fool them into thinking they had embarrassed me. It worked. They fell all over themselves apologizing for their insensitivity, giving me hugs and trying to be supportive and make me feel less self-conscious.
Wanda spent a few minutes fiddling with the front of my pants, trying to make them hang straight. Without hesitation, she pulled waistband away from my body, causing my hard dick to slap against my stomach; she tried to reposition it to achieve a more modest appearance, but in the end she left it sticking straight up against my belly with the head poking out above the waistband. She stopped, stood back and took a good look. "What do you think?" she asked the aide, "at least the front of his pants are hanging straight." The aide didn't answer; instead she just stared, open-mouthed. I guess, even though nudity was a common part of her job, she was not accustomed to seeing hospital staff manipulating an erect penis, and joking about it in the presence of its owner.
I was dressed and sitting in the wheelchair when Mom and my sisters arrived. The doctors came around, one at a time, with discharge instructions, and then we were free to leave. Down the elevator to the lobby and out the door. Felt nice to be outdoors, finally.
Mom brought the car around, a very nice luxury SUV. "Impressive," I thought, "can't wait to see my own wheels." I was helped into the back seat, sitting next to Michelle, with Mom and Michelle in the front. Conversation was light and trivial, but Michelle was wearing shorts, very short spandex shorts, and I was really distracted by the sight of those beautiful legs in the seat next to me. The way she was seated, kind of turned toward me with one knee on the seat folded back under, her shorts rode up all the way to her crotch. At least, it seemed that way to me. I could just make out a little bit of pubic hair peaking out, and thought if she fidgeted a little, her pussy might even make an appearance. It took a lot of effort not to stare, as I didn't want to creep her out or anything, and I think I may have succeeded. I did get about half-hard several times during the hour-long drive (in heavy traffic), and I'm pretty sure Michelle noticed. Thinking back, it should have been obvious that she wanted me to look at her, and knew the effect it was having on me.
We were driving through a v-e-r-y nice neighborhood in the LA suburbs, when Mom pulled into the driveway of a big 2-story house. There were several cars in the driveway, and a few parked at the curb. "Okay, now I need to warn you," Mom said as she turned to face me, "Some of the relatives are here to welcome you home. My sisters, your aunts Peggy, Elizabeth, and Denise, and Peg's kids, your cousins Terry and Pat. They know about your memory condition. Please do try to remember everyone here loves you, so you don't have to be embarrassed about anything." "Ok, Mom, I'll do my best." I was only a little bit nervous.
Chapter 10
With a little help from my sisters, I negotiated the front walk, and entered into a beautiful foyer with a tall ceiling, a living room to one side and dining room to the other, a staircase and a hallway leading to a den and the rest of the ground floor. I was really impressed. I was even more impressed by the flow of women coming from the den towards me, arms outstretched. I counted five - five women. So Terry and Pat were females as well. Aunt Peggy and Aunt Liz were both older than Mom, but remarkably well-preserved, and wow! What a rack on Liz. And she wasn't stingy with her cleavage. Aunt Denise had been a surprise baby; at 27, she was 14 years younger than my Mom. The cousins were both in their early 20's and pretty enough.
But Denise, she was a real beauty, perfectly proportioned, beautiful skin, beautiful dark hair with just the right amount of curl. She was not like the rest of the family. Her eyes were a bit heavy on the make-up, I noticed, and her clothes were quite revealing; black tank top, no bra, and short-short cut-off jeans. Pierced eyebrow and tongue, and a couple tattoos that I could see. Her breasts were so very firm, with a hint of nipple pushing against the fabric. She looked like a real party girl. She was also the only one I noticed checking out my dick as it was swinging against the fabric of my pants.
I stood there for four nice, tight hugs from women I'd never met before, then Denise stepped up. This gorgeous creature, my Aunt Denise approached slowly, very tenderly put her arms around my neck and pressed her body fully against mine. I guess it wasn't too suggestive to onlookers, because nobody else showed any kind of reaction. Her left knee found its way to my crotch, and there is no doubt she was feeling me up with her thigh. I noticed a sharp intake of breath against my neck at the moment of contact; she seemed pleased at what she encountered there. Luckily the rest of the family was on her right side, so no one else noticed. She lingered, her body pressed against mine in a way that felt very sexy for me, but maybe I was mistaken, as no one else seemed to notice.
Aunt Liz spoke up, "it was Denise who first got word of your accident, and actually made it to the scene before you got on the ambulance. There was so much blood, you were such a mess, she thought you were dead." That's how the others understood the tender, prolonged embrace. My perspective, however, was slightly different. She was still holding me close when I felt her left hand slide down my back. No one else was in a position to observe her hand slide under the waistband of my warm-up pants, and gently squeeze my butt cheek. We were swaying slightly, and the pressure of her thigh against my cock, combined with her hand on my ass and her lovely breasts pressed tight against my body, was starting to have an effect. I wasn't quite ready to expose my hard cock to the rest of my family, so I slumped, and complained of fatigue and pain. Terry stepped up, and along with Denise, helped me into the den, settling on a plush sofa.
Mom and the aunts went into the kitchen to prepare lunch, leaving me with my sisters and cousins, none of whom I really knew very well. Terry was still sitting beside me, close, with her arm around my shoulders and body pressed up against mine. At 24, she was the younger of the two cousins, short hair, slender, petite, with a twinkle in her eye and a quick smile, a lively sort of girl. Pat was 27, taller than average, with a little extra padding, and more reserved than her little sister. They would be returning home to San Francisco on a late flight that night. Denise lived a couple hour's drive up the coast and planned to leave right after lunch.
Michelle came over to sit at my left side, equally close. The girls started filling me in on life in the Wood household. At first a lot of talk about schools and athletics, boyfriends and other trivia. I mostly kept quiet, asking a question here and there. Then they started talking about Virginia and her sisters.
"Don't worry about Denise," said Pat, "She's the baby of the family; her sisters had already left the house when she was growing up, so she's a little different."
"You can say that again," I replied, "Do any of the others have body art?" They all spoke up at once to assure me that was not the case.
Morgan added, "at least, not that any of us has been able to find."
Terry said, "You may have noticed, Denise is more the 'touchy-feely' type than the rest of us."
"I did notice that," I said.
Pat spoke up, "Except for Aunt Virginia. She's a lot like that, too."
"And your sister, Michelle," Morgan added with a laugh.
