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Abasiophilia - Wheelchair Sex on Valentine's Day
Abasiophilia is defined as sexual arousal derived from viewing or sexually interacting with a person who has limited mobility, such as an individual wearing a cast or using crutches or in a wheelchair.
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WHAT'S GOING ON?
Yes, I can walk. So you are probably asking yourself, why am I sitting here in a wheelchair?
Ok, it isn't a mystery. Let me explain from the beginning.
First off, my name is Avery Potemkin. Dumb name huh? My mom worked in a stationary store and though Avery was a nice name for stationary supplies, I never said she was a genius. I guess it's ok if you are a box of blank business cards waiting to be run off in a copy machine, but hey, I never heard of anyone naming themselves before they were born. Someone always has to do the dirty work.
And the Russian Zinger? Well, put the blame on Mame. My Mom, known as Mame, has always had a weak spot that guys seem to penetrate. Before I was born, she was infatuated with a Russian dancer that danced his cock so deep inside her, that mixture of pungent Cossack DNA kicked itself crazy right up her womb and bingo, that's where I come from.Then he waltzed off to Moscow. I've never met the "bas-turd," as my grandma called him. Mom never said anything accept, "He had a nice big Russian cock." She's partial to the big Kahunas.
Being raised by my Mother and my grandmother, as you can imagine, I was spoiled. I've tried to get past this by being less demanding and comprehensive of other people's needs. Sometimes this has gotten me in trouble. In the last year of college I lived with Gloria Rasmussen, a Swedish exchange student. I did everything to make her happy. I cooked, cleaned and gave her orgasms several times a day, mostly oral.
Sorry, that is what she liked. Maybe she had a lesbian roommate before me. I found out late in the game she was more than a little bit bipolar. If she was displeased with me, if I didn't clean up the apartment adequately, she'd tie me up while I was sleeping and I wake up to see some bozo she'd met God knows where, probably in the downstairs bar, fucking her on the other side of the bed. Sure, after a few Swedish punishment sessions and I packed my bags and left. I don't think she ever noticed my absence with all the guys coming round. After that experience I've lived alone.There is so much pussy in Los Angeles that they fight over the rats.
I'm employed at the Los Angeles Times, I'm a copywriter working my way up to an editor's job. I used to do work on their weekly science page but they dropped that feature for some reason. I guess science isn't of interest out here. Mostly tits and cocks take center page. As a result I get shuffled around from one department to another. I worked a lot on the Auto Show Edition, maybe you saw that one? Journalism is a dying art, or as one of the senior guys says, "A dying fart." The future is the internet. Print on paper is as modern as the model T.
A year ago I was in a minor traffic accident. I had just turned 24 years old and was on my way to see a play at the East West Theater over on Judge Aiso Street. This is a predominantly Asian Repertory company, very talented and they pick plays out of the mainstream.A Trans friend had gotten a small part in a racy drama where he played a guy who left home to become a girl and ended up being seduced by his unknowing Indian father in Mumbai. I'm told that the Dad's ultimate "climaxing" line of the play was, "If only I'd had a daughter as lovely as you."
That was when a cab ran up on the curb over on San Pedro Street and knocked me down. Fortunately I did not suffer broken bones, but the damage to my leg muscles was enough to keep me in pain and pain killers and in this shiny wheelchair for three months. As I recovered I began to walk using two canes but when the effort was too much I'd fall back on the wheelchair.
ABASIOPHILIA -WTF?
Perhaps you've never heard of Abasiophilia. That is the fancy name for sexual arousal that is derived from either viewing or sexually interacting with a person who is crippled or using crutches or confined to a wheelchair. If you had told me of this fetish existed before my accident I would have thought you were crazy. I quickly learned that you are not bonkers, it does exist and is far more common than one would think. Women in particular have a weak spot for such an individual, a weak spot that propels them to gift the subject with a variety of sexual favors.
ABASIO-ME!
For example, my first experience took place a month ago when I was on my way to an appointment for a checkup with a specialist. A rather attractive chubby woman, I would guess in her fifties, got into the elevator with me. I was headed to the 14th floor, she pushed the button for the eleventh.
She smiled at me and said, "You poor boy."
I smiled back as the elevator began to climb, then she pushed the elevator stop button.
"Oh dear boy," she seemed to have a Boston accent, "how difficult it must be for you to get relief and at your age that is very important? You deserve a reward for your bravery."
Before I could answer she knelt with some effort in front of me, holding onto the wheel chair arms and unzipped my fly. Her warm hand twisted inside and seized her prize, my rather large cock that like a snake, sprung into action at her touch. She leaned forward, opens her lipstick clad lips, and out came a long tongue. First she began to lick the shaft and then gobbled my cock up like a hawk swooping down to grab a lizard. I looked down at her, her cleavage was well exposed in that position and I ogled her large full breasts as she sucked. I reached out to squeeze her titties. I said nothing.
It didn't take long for my cock to respond and spout a stream of sperm down her throat. I assumed she swallowed a rather sizable load. I wanted to yell out but thought better of it as we were in a public place and who knows who might be watching on the security camera. When she finished she reached into her rather sizable purse and took out a folded linen handkerchief. She turned toward the mirrored wall and wiped any cum residue from her lips and then she carefully wiped my cock dry. She paused to put on fresh lipstick before hitting the "go" button.
She looked at me a bit oddly.
"You aren't retarded, dear. Are you?"
Amused I made a sort of crooked grin and said nothing.
"Well, I hope that made your day?"
I continued smiling and repeated, "My day," several times.
She turned towards the door giving me her back and exited at her floor.
In short, that night there was certainly no need to masturbate, I was as she stated, no longer in need of relief. And asides from my clowning around, it was a very adequate blow job.
Maybe this fetish is tied to a woman's desire to mother those of us who have suffered an unfortunate experience. There I was thinking my elevator blowie was a unique event, when in fact guys in wheelies seem to get them all the time.
RELYING ON THE KINDNESS OF STRANGERS
A week later, I once more took an Uber over to that same medical building on Wilshire Blvd. for a follow-up medical appointment with a muscle specialist. The drivers are nice about stowing the wheel chair but you have to request the larger car. I didn't realize it at that moment, but I had made a mistake. I had stupidly arrived two hours early.
The two security guards noticed me right away and gave me odd looks, I wondered if they had seen the tape of the blowie. I might be an internet porno star for all I knew. The older guard scowled at me and stepped out to make sure no one followed me into the elevator, directing several people to the elevator to our left. A yuppy milf in sandals looked longingly at me but moved on as directed.
I rope up in silence, thinking of my last trip and the lovely lady who'd accompanied me. When I figured out which direction the office was, I headed left down the hall and entered the doctor's office. I was made aware that I had screwed up. Although I had the appointment card in my wallet, I'd failed to check the hour and relied on what turned out to be my faulty memory. The doctor had not arrived from his second office. It seems a lot of these medics have a string of offices to maximize their profits. The nurse was a rather good looking women, probably about thirty-five, her name tag read "Nurse Sarah." She had red curly hair and a rather short smock. She sort of looked like an Irish leprechaun with two nicely compact tits. As I entered the room she said,
"Mr. Potemkin, your appointment is not until this afternoon. Perhaps you'd like to return then?"
"Well, I'm here now, can I wait?"
"Oh I feel so sorry for you, you are in for at least a two hour wait, even if Doctor Lasko arrives on time. The traffic being what it is, we never know."
"You said we? Is there someone else here?"
"Oh no, it's just a matter of speaking. No, you and I are quite alone. Can I get you anything, do you need help getting or going to the bathroom?"
PLEASE LEND ME A HAND
"To tell you the truth I do have to pee, I'll never last 2 hours."
"Oh then let me help you. Are you able to stand?"
"Yes, with some difficulty."
"Don't worry, I'm a nurse, I can help."
She walked over to the entry door and twisted the lock.
"We don't want anyone breaking in while we are in the other part of the office."