Blind Passion 02

"I think it's ridiculous," Carrie said tartly.

John wondered if she sat there self-consciously with her arms covering herself. Probably she couldn't help feeling like he was staring at her breasts despite his blinders. On the other hand some part of her wanted to be naked before him. He kept his head turned away to help aleve her discomfort.

"Carrie, darling child," said Vivian, "there's so much that the accident taught me about how precarious life is. I've been working with Dr. Wright to find a way to live that out, to come out of my shell and live while I can."

"And she's much of the way there. I'm proud of her," the smile was clear in the doctor's voice.

"Are you going to walk around Key Foods topless?" huffed Carrie.

"Now who's ridiculous?" laughed Vivian, "At home and with my lovers, yes. In public, no, but I will wear my scars unashamedly." John heard pride in her voice, "I did grocery shop this week. No one ran screaming when they saw me."

"Lovers?" Carrie sounded scandalized.

"No one turns away the goddess when she appears, man or woman."

"This is gibberish. Listen, this is exactly what I'm concerned about. You don't sound like my mother..."

John knew better than to interject his energy into this sort of mother-daughter negotiation. He was patient. He could sense Dr. Wright gently supporting Vivian and giving Carrie room to feel heard.

"Carrie, you kept me alive and you sacrificed a lot to do it," said Vivian, "You know I'm grateful. But I'm not a porcelain doll and you need to go on with your life like a normal daughter."

"You're not being a normal mother here, are you?"

"It's a new world and I'm kind of an alien in it."

"What do you mean?"

Vivian laughed, "I'm one of the lizard people. You can tell by my skin. We live among you..."

"Oh come on..." Carrie, frustrated, raised her voice.

"Seriously, honey, I've been transformed by the accident. I really am not the mother you knew. Or that you want me to be."

"I can't accept that."

Dr. Wright said, leaning in from her chair, "And there's your work in all this, Carrie."

"It's not about me!"

The room waited.

Viv spoke first, "Carrie, you bathed me, you dressed my wounds, you walked by my side when I could barely do it myself. You know my body as intimately as anyone."

John heard the daughter sobbing.

Viv continued, "And lately I've come to realize that not only can I walk, but I can fly. And I want to be the mother you didn't have these five years. I see a way to be an example again, instead of a charity case. Our last session was a remarkable watershed."

"You're saying my job is done...how do I be your daughter now if you don't need me?"

"I think we should do something together that has nothing to do with my disability."

"What, like go to Disney?"

"Like make love to John together."

It was as if the room itself gasped. And held its breath.

Suddenly a stirring and the sound of a body rising from the couch, the flurry of clothing being put on.

"I can't," sobbed Carrie, "I just can't..." John felt the rush of her passing and heard the slam of the door to the waiting room. The hinges didn't squeak.

"Oh, dear," sighed Vivian.

"Well done, Viv," said the doctor firmly, "You said what you needed to say."

"Since we rode here together, I suppose she'll come back to get me..." Vivian sounded distressed. John still held back, waiting for the two women to process and set the pace. In himself he felt the familiar stirring of that male energy. If he was an instrument of the woman's recovery, then his bow was rosined and his strings were tuned. He was ready to be played, to make whatever music she could draw from his finely crafted body.

While he waited he learned a lot listening to Dr. Wright guide Vivian through an understanding of what had just happened.

"Viv, you're changing the family dynamic. You've done your part and now we'll have to wait to see how Carrie adjusts."

"It's hard to disappoint your own child."

"More like disillusion," John said, braving a comment.

"Yes," said the doctor, "there's nothing wrong with you. Carrie will adjust to your new reality. Eventually."

They were silent for a bit. John felt them all relax back into their seats. Their breathing slowed.

"Well," Vivian's end of the couch rustled and she said, "I'd like to pick up where we left off last session."

John could hear the smile in Dr. Wright's voice. "Excellent. You go right ahead. You're the lead in this journey."

Vivian took a deep breath. John felt her move nearer, sliding on the purple velour. A hand pulled at this belt.

"Maybe I should stand?" he said.

"OK, good," said Viv quietly.

He rose and turned to face her sitting on the edge of the couch and her hands resumed extracting his swelling organ from his jeans.

"What I really want to take time to do...is just explore this body," she said, pulling his pants and briefs down. He yanked off his t-shirt without asking and with a little shuffle he was completely naked for her. His cock rose.

Vivian took it in both hands and was still. She must have been just looking at it, examining it closely.

Just then there was a rapid knock at the door and it opened a crack. "It's Carrie. Can I talk to my mother?"

John assumed meaningful looks passed between Dr. Wright and Vivian, who said, "Come in".

Silence. He imagined the daughter, wide-eyed and critical, seeing her mother eye-level with his considerable erection, spotlighted by the table lamp. This is just what she was afraid of. Afraid of for her mother, he understood, and afraid of getting too close to male power herself. Afraid of her own sexual power. Yet it was what she wanted, even if she wasn't fully conscious of it.

Finally she said, "Mom, you're engaging in risky behavior here."

"I'll put an eye out?" her mother laughed and waved his dick. "If I lick it will my tongue stick to it?" John got the joke and her reference to the movie. Maybe A Christmas Story was a family favorite of theirs. He wondered if Carrie would see the humor.

"Mom, you clearly can't be left on your own." He heard the door close and Carrie cross the room.

"Take off your blouse if you're staying," said Vivian with a motherly authority.

Fabric swished, snaps snapped. Presumably there were three topless women around him again. Still blind, his brain worked hard to imagine the scene.

Dr. Wright; regal, shoulders back, cornrowed braids in a pile on her head, those purple-tipped torpedoes full and glossy, the long, colorful skirt covering her legs. Vivian with her heavy, round breasts loose, one a little less alive than the other; he imagined her very pale with light blue veining running just under her skin, one side patterned with a skein of tiny scars and her lower half under the heavy wool dress. And blond Carrie, what did she look like? Like her mom in size, he supposed from seeing her sweater at the diner. She had an outdoorsy, athlete's body. Did she have on the soft, brown corduroy pants? Would her freckles run like a fine lace all the way down to her nipples? He hoped so.

"What are you doing here, mom, really?" The daughter began an interrogation.

"When one member of a family changes," interjected the doctor, "everyone changes."

"It's like mom's taken up snake handling," Carrie scoffed.

"It's quite the snake isn't it, honey?" said Vivian laying his heavy organ out across her palms.

"Jeez, I meant it's like you've joined some backwoods religion."

"Say more about that..." said Dr. Wright gently. John waited, hands on hips, while the women talked over his cock. It was a new angle on his practice of being what his women needed. Usually it was more organic and less self-aware. In any case he'd learned to take in whatever stimulation the environment provided and build on that in whatever dynamic the woman, or women, generated. Would these two compete over him like Mrs. Lee and her daughter had? Or like that one weekend upstate when it had been a daughter acting out and the model mother trying to keep up. This time it seemed to be the other way around.

Carrie was clearly very uncomfortable, but trying to adjust.

John imagined the younger woman perched attentively on the edge of the purple couch to his left while her mother cradled his cock and Dr. Wright leaned in benevolently. His whole body was an instrument to be played skillfully. And maybe the doctor was like an orchestra conductor and the two women were learning to play a piece together, unfamiliar with the music and each others' style. He came to them as a finely tuned violin, maybe, rich in timbre, made of an exotic wood and golden varnish and taut strings that allowed him to be played with a unique voice once they'd learned how to finger him, how to stroke the bow across his sinews.

In this way he maintained a sort of detachment that allowed him to read his lovers better and key his own responses to their needs. But that kind of thinking also aroused him and so his cock rose from Vivian's palms as the women looked on, talking and challenging each other.

"Look, Carrie, at this magnificent gift John brings to us," breathed Vivian, her fingertips just outlining his shaft as if she displayed him for her daughter, who remained silent. John imagined Carrie's face both skeptical and intrigued.

"The thing about John..," said the doctor, affectionately, patting him on the flank," The thing about John as a manifestation of God-given power is that he doesn't use it to dominate. Too many women are repressed before they have a chance to come into their own goddess-given powers and to play with a man like this as partners in pleasure."

"I told you that last session I had the most delicious string of orgasms, didn't I?" said Vivian.

"Mmm, hmmm," said Carrie, cautiously, with a question in her voice.

"I think we could both have that today, don't you Dr. Wright?"

"You can negotiate that with John directly, Viv."

"Oh, yes...well, John, will you help me do that outercourse thing again...and, doctor, you said there were some other variations, I think?"

John said, "How about if you start with the oil?"

There was movement in the room as the oil was acquired, the cap popped and Vivian said, "Carrie, will you put it on him?"

"Mom!"

"Yes, you do it."

"I don't know this guy..."

"You know enough. He's here to please us."

"Us?"

"If we want him to. That's the beauty of it. You heard the doctor - John's a partner in our recovery. Partners in pleasure, she said."

"Oh, God, mom, you're sure this is good for you? I'll do it for you...if I have to."

John could hear the smile in Vivian's reply, "Oh, yes, child, you very much have to." Did everyone but Carrie understand how her own goddess was manifesting in that room?

He heard a quiet 'splurt' and hands rubbing together. Then a warm, slippery palm wrapped his organ and squeezed. His rod clenched. Someone chuckled. The hand, Carrie's no doubt, began smearing him. Apparently Carrie knew something about oil and bare flesh. Her fingers notched over his corona, giving a jolt with each passing knuckle. She pressed the meat of her palm down against his balls and let the oil run down there.

She squeezed and pulled up until the oil was well worked in and his heart slammed in his chest. He could hear the younger woman breathing hard, too, like it was work to stroke him that way. Surely, her heart was slamming, too. He wondered if or when she'd had as fine a phallus in her hands. It wasn't arrogance - many women had told him how special is cock was. The-Statue-Of-David of penises, one had said. For him it was a useful attribute in his restorations, not a status object. He had a natural confident swagger. It wasn't because of the lump in his pants.

Carrie cleared her throat, "Good enough?"

"I put a goodly amount on myself, too," Vivian said.

"Mom!" her daughter again exclaimed. John supposed Viv was rubbing down her own pussy in full view.

"You bathed me, dear. It's nothing you haven't seen."

"But that was different."

"Let me assure you, Carrie," said Dr. Wright, "Within the matrix of all of our cultural strictures and prohibitions, that any two bodies may still give pleasure to each other. And we don't need to feel ashamed of the pull of that desire for pleasure."

"What?" said Carrie.

"If your mom's hot, she's hot, is all I'm saying."

"See, you might as well be speaking in tongues."

"It's a lot to take in at first," said the doctor, "Just let your body tell you what to do."

Her hands were still snug and warm on John's shaft, one stacked above the other. He felt his knob shining in the air. Carrie squeezed and pulled again, then Viv said, "Push it down to horizontal...yes, that's it...see, I kinda swing my leg over and clamp..."

Carrie's hands were replaced by the hot, tight pocket of Vivian's smooth thighs. She wiggled herself into place on him and he felt her warm breasts on his chest, her legs against his. Dr. Wright put her hand on his back again for support.

"Viv, if you put your hand between you like this..." and John felt fingers worm their way down his belly until a finger and thumb circled his base, "then you can pull it up right where it feels best."

Vivian moved back and forth and the doctor guided his cock through the older woman's soupy vulva. One finger tickled his balls. He knew the doctor was teasing him and wished he could see the impish look she often got in her eye.

"You try it," said the doctor, and another hand replaced hers. Viv fiddled to get the right purchase as she wiggled some more. But shortly she took up a rhythm on his hard organ. He put his hands on her waist to give the resistance that made for such a nice recoil at the end of her glide to the end of his cock.

"OOhhh, you're right, doctor," sighed Viv, "that's even finer control than last time."

Carrie had been silent and John sensed that she just stood there within arms reach, aghast at what she saw. Or was she taking the doc's advice and listening to her body? Was it drawn to his irresistibly? Was her own pussy squeezing out a trickle of arousal like her mother's did? Did her fingers want to sneak down and slip around in her own flesh?

"Vivian," he said, smiling broadly, "The god in me greets the goddess in you."

The older woman chuckled. He wondered, if he never actually saw her, if one day, should he meet a woman in Key Foods who said to him 'the goddess in me greets the god in you', would he know by her voice it was Vivian? Would it be a nice little joke between them?

Vivian's chuckle turned into a low growl that rose and fell as she slid back and forth along his cock. With each wet smack up against his torso she grunted. He let it go on, holding fire as he'd learned to do and watching the woman carry herself to ecstasy on his body.

She rose quickly to a peak and shivered around him, her one hand clenching his bicep, the other making sharp upward jerks on his cock as her clit slid over his crown.

Vivian shuddered out a long sigh and relaxed, the oil and her own juices running down her legs. John's balls felt swollen and hot, his cock tingled, his legs trembled as he kept his body rigid for the woman to throw herself against with abandon. Finally, she was limp in his arms, her weight on his shaft as she slumped down from on her tiptoes.

Carrie caught her, too. "Mom, are you alright?" She sounded anxious.

"You've seen another woman have an orgasm, haven't you?"

"Not like that....no."

"Can you help her sit?" asked John, plucking the limp older woman from his prong. He heard the two slump onto the couch. He stayed hard imagining the women breast-to-breast in an embrace. It must have been the doctor's hand that wrapped his cock then.

She whispered in his ear, "I'm just going to take some of this wetness and rub it on my clit and just diddle myself while I watch...OK? Besides, I have to pump."

"That's exactly the proper amount of professional reserve for today, I agree," he whispered back.

The other two must have been watching the doctor handling him and easing back into her own seat, dress drawn up with splayed legs and fingers making squelching sounds. He knew what she looked like with the breast pump discreetly cradled in her arms. The women seemed to take it in stride.

Vivian chuckled, "You know, I forgot completely about exploring his body."

"I'm still available..." said John.

"I like to watch a man stroke himself," she said, "Will you do that, John?"

He simply took up his wet cock in his right hand and slowly pulled. The foreskin slid and the veins pulsed under this touch. He thought about all the women who looked at the Statue of David in Rome and really wanted to see this pose with this impressive cock. Or all the men, for that matter.

"Look at that piece of meat," whispered Vivian, "What a lovely curve. Oh, I don't mean to be objectifying John, really. But when it's being wielded so benignly, and so much under my own control, well, it sort of becomes something between us, you know. Something that exists apart from any of us."

"I'd like to explain my idea of this instrument..." And John talked about violins and orchestras and sinews until he thought maybe even Carrie understood how he could do this work and why it could help her mother. Maybe she 'got it' now because she reached out and grasped him without asking.

Carrie said, while pulling on this slippery shaft again, "I'm just doing this to keep my mother safe, you understand."

"I didn't get to check out his buns of steel last session," Vivian said, rising and moving behind him. Still slick, her hands played across his ass. She ran her fingers down his crack trailing oil and she slid one over his pucker. His cock clenched. Carrie gasped. Then

Viv reached around to run them across his chest, pressing her soft breasts against his back. He felt her warm breath on his shoulder blades where she rested her forehead.

She said, "Carrie, this is a way to be adult women together, you and I."

Another hand joined the younger woman's on his shaft and he knew they were sharing him, sharing the velvet steel of his prick, sharing the pulsing animal that would bring them both pleasure.

"You were with me through all of my recovery. You were there when I took my first steps again." The older woman molded herself to his back, pulling on his cock. "I want you to be here when I have intercourse again, too."

"I understand what you're saying better now, but that's still pretty weird, mom." The woman kept on pulling on his cock with her mother, though. John could tell that the physical Carrie and the emotional Carrie were mostly on board even if the intellectual part still struggled with what society said was right and wrong, as if they were facts.

"Carrie, dear, will you remove your slacks now?" whispered Vivian.

John imagined what happened when her hand left his shaft. It joined her other hand in unbuttoning, then they pulled down the zipper. The fabric parted to reveal....

"Describe your panties to me," he said, invitingly.

"What these old...uh, well, uh...they're blue, dark blue...silky...no lace or anything."

"So they go nicely with your freckles. High cut, or..."

"Oh, yes, high cut." He imagined her looking down at herself, heavy freckled breasts hanging, the curve of her round belly, fingers in the elastic.

"Pull them down." There was rustling and he sensed her bending, breasts swaying, elegant feet slipping from the scrap of silk.

"Do you have a tan all over or just on your face?"

"Just, just my face, I guess." She sounded surprised. "No tan lines, anyway."