Life with Disabilities

page views:1 Publication date:2022-09-28

"You want to get up? Let me help you." My wife's voice had barely sounded from behind when she was already beside me, reaching out to support me under my armpits, preparing to help me into the wheelchair. "No need, I can do it myself, you should rest a bit more," I said in a low voice. My wife said shyly, "I'm not tired, I don't need to rest." I sat in the wheelchair, and just then, I could see her full breasts through the neckline of her pajamas. Remembering how she had straddled me last night, her seductive and alluring appearance, I hated myself for being a cripple. Last night, my wife had been particularly enthusiastic in licking my penis, and the long-awaited oral sex immediately made it erect. My wife grasped my hard penis, pressing her full lips tightly against the veins on the shaft, her tongue repeatedly licking and exploring the glans and urethral opening inside her mouth. I remained silent, purely enjoying the ever-changing oral techniques with my penis. As my wife naturally licked my scrotum and perineum clean, she began to noisily remove her pajamas, bra, and underwear. Completely naked, she knelt beside me, continuing to vigorously suck my penis. How I longed for this tender silhouette, how I yearned for this passionate moment. However, when the yellow sunlight from outside pierced through the gaps in the curtains, scattering across my uneven limbs, the beautiful scene suddenly became utterly ridiculous. My naked wife, oblivious to my changing thoughts, simply straddled me at her own pace. She supported her body with her healthy limbs, her soft, full breasts sweeping upwards over my erect penis. Those large, brown nipples traced along my already bloated abdomen, down to my chest. We closed our eyes, listening to each other's breathing, our lips slowly closing, our tongues entwining. In the darkness, my wife's soft hands gently guided my penis, allowing her slightly damp vulva to tightly envelop my engorged shaft inch by inch. At first, she simply knelt on the bed, slowly swaying her hips back and forth. Her vulva gradually became warm and moist, and her breathing quickened. I listened to her alluring breaths while feeling the friction of her vulva against my penis. Her hips moved faster and faster, her arousal growing stronger. She placed her hands on my chest, then slowly lifted her lower abdomen; I could clearly feel her vulva gently pulling on my erect penis. When half of my penis slipped out of her vagina, my wife gave a slight jolt, and the head of my penis once again plunged deep into her vagina. I heard her gasp, and then she began to swallow and release my penis again. I stared at my wife's beautiful face; she closed her eyes, her small nostrils and full red lips slightly parted, riding my penis with fervor. At that moment, I felt like a human masturbation device, and a broken one at that. I understand she needs to close her eyes, create some space, and use her imagination to fully enjoy the process of sex with a broken, human-shaped vibrator. My wife isn't athletic, but her legs are surprisingly stamina-rich; she can continuously bounce up and down on me. In the past, I used to hold her lower body, letting her ride at my preferred rhythm, but now she's like a seasoned rider, firmly holding me beneath her jade-like legs. My wife constantly changes the strength and speed of her riding, excitedly embarking on the path of pleasure. She cups her violently shaking breasts in her hands, unconsciously squeezing and playing with her large nipples, uttering obscene moans: "Oh ah~~~ Good husband, I'm coming! Don't stop! Hoo oh ah oh~~~" Seeing the prelude to my wife's orgasm, hearing her ecstatic moans, I felt nothing special. I'm just a legless, human-shaped vibrator, powerless and forced to lie obediently on the bed, watching my wife vigorously ride my crippled body from below until I ejaculate a stream of hot semen inside her vagina. "Ah...ah...husband, I love you." She kissed me passionately. "Ah...I really love you." ########################## My wife and I met at my old boss's hair salon. At the time, I was already a top-notch hairstylist, while she was just a shampoo girl, twelve years younger than me, who had only recently entered the workforce. Back then, at nineteen, she was youthful and charming, her baby fat gradually fading, revealing a pretty and pleasing profile. Her eyes, curved like cashews, held an eternal smile; her full, luscious lips, paired with a straight yet delicate nose and a chin like a tomoe, made her as perfect as a manga heroine, unforgettable at first sight. Back then, we, a group of hairdressers, witnessed her transformation from a girl into a woman. From her awkward, unfashionable appearance when she first started, she gradually blossomed. Her slightly chubby, rounded feet transformed into shapely, slender legs; her rounded waist began to reveal a graceful waistline; the girl began to know how to wear more flattering and fashionable tops, allowing her once shy breasts to burst forth, confidently displaying her alluring curves. This shampoo girl, blossoming into a beautiful young woman, quickly became my girlfriend. From then on, she was like my lucky charm; my career went smoothly, and soon I had my own small hair salon and our child. After we got married, she stayed home to manage everything, while I worked diligently, starting from a small hair salon and eventually owning two fairly large hair salons in the city. Just as I was planning the next decade of my life, I was in a serious car accident. I lost both my legs; I lost my life. After numerous and lengthy surgeries, and after doctors completely removed my left knee, I sold all my shares in both hair salons to my partners and employees. Reality was cruel. Even though my hands were still as nimble as ever, no one wanted to patronize a "chief hairstylist" in a wheelchair. For over ten months without work, my partners still deposited the salon's profits into my account. It was neither reasonable nor ethical for me to shamelessly remain in the company as a pure investor. After my accident, my good brother, Wang Lingde, took care of everything for me with lightning speed. Through his mediation, he got the insurance company to quickly approve emergency funds, and the insurance money arrived in my account shortly afterward. He even patted his chest and promised to cover all my son's education expenses so he could continue his studies at his original prestigious boarding school. This young man, twelve years younger than me and the same age as my wife, started working at the hair salon around the same time as her. Although he was just a junior hairstylist, one of my apprentices, he displayed a maturity and ambition beyond his years. I quickly noticed his talent, not just in hair design, but in his profound understanding of everything. For Wang Lingde, this hair salon was too small; in fact, the hairdressing industry was too narrow for him. After several heart-to-heart talks, he finally made up his mind to carve out his own niche. When we met again, he was no longer the timid junior hairstylist he once was, but a successful fashion designer with his own international brand. From then on, we became close friends despite our age difference, calling each other brothers. Later, he became my best man and my son's godfather. Even though he was often abroad, he still enthusiastically helped me find a suitable partner when I expanded my hair salon. After my recovery stabilized, Wang Lingde invited my wife to work as a sales assistant at his company so that she, with little work experience, could gradually integrate into society. Less than two months later, Wang Lingde tactfully told me that my wife's performance had fallen short of his expectations, but he would still keep her on. He would make further plans once she found a more suitable job. I knew perfectly well that with my wife's education, experience, and qualifications, she would struggle to handle sales work, and moreover, [the text abruptly ends here].The important thing is that I absolutely didn't want her to socialize or entertain in public. However, every family has expenses, and my wife understood that she was responsible for supporting the family. With my explicit and implicit suggestions, she tried to explore her true interests and abilities. Six months later, unexpectedly, my wife found her own little world online and became an internet celebrity. As a disabled middle-aged man, I was already out of touch with the world and completely unfamiliar with the online ecosystem, so I didn't understand how my wife became an internet celebrity. I only know that for a while, she kept asking me for advice on hair styling and hair care, and then filmed the tips I taught her and posted them online. Later, a newly imported hair care product company asked my wife to try their products. After the videos were posted online, she initially only had a fixed number of followers. Who knew that two weeks later, overnight, her number of followers exploded, and she started her internet celebrity career. By then, I had adapted to the job Wang Lingde had referred me to, working as a polisher at a non-profit lens company that advertised itself as employing people with disabilities and rehabilitation. I worked diligently, trying to prove to my family that I wasn't useless despite my disability, and that my wife didn't need to support the family alone. One morning, the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was my wife looking at her underwear in the mirror. She was wearing a dark purple bra with a half-cup design, which lifted her already quite full breasts from the bottom up, making her two snow-white mounds hang exaggeratedly on her chest. Her panties were the same as the bra cups, with rose patterns embroidered on the inverted triangle fabric in the front, but the back of the panties had a thong design, exposing my wife's round and full buttocks nakedly. My wife saw me in the mirror, bent down to pick up her nightgown from the bed, and held it in front of her. "You're up?" I asked tentatively. "New? It seems a bit..." Before I could finish, she interrupted, "A bit too sexy. I'll call the manufacturer later to discuss it." "You got a lingerie sponsored ad?" I was a little surprised, and I gripped the headboard to sit up on the edge of the bed. My wife, ignoring the nightgown in front of her, gently adjusted my posture. "Yes! They're very generous." My wife leaned forward slightly, her breasts overflowing from her bra cups like overflowing milk pudding. Watching her soft, white breasts sway against her chest, I so wished I could stand up and pounce on her, expressing my love for her with burning desire. But I could never stand up again. I couldn't remember the last time I felt such intense sexual urges, and then I realized that we hadn't had sex in over three years. I felt ashamed. My wife wasn't even thirty-five; what kind of life had she been living for me? That very night, I tried having sex with her. For the past ten years, I had been the one in control of our sex life. Although I wasn't her first boyfriend, nor her first man, I had brought her to orgasm after orgasm over the years. On that unremarkable night, more than three years later, I asked her to give me oral sex again. I lay down quietly, and my wife knelt beside me, slowly taking my penis in and out of her mouth. Until my long-dormant penis became erect again, my wife put on a condom for me, and then, as usual, straddled my legs, preparing to lie on my lap and continue to enjoy my penis. As she straddled my body as usual, her lower body sank, and her lower body and feet landed squarely on the empty space where my severed limbs had been. I felt a pang of sorrow, and my penis instantly went limp. My wife, oblivious to what was happening, patiently took my penis in and out of her mouth, putting the condom back on my erect penis. Then, at my instruction, she straddled my penis, slowly rocking up and down. She wasn't very strong. Many times I wanted to thrust deeper into her, but I could only writhe on the bed like a worm. Finally, before she could even experience pleasure, I ejaculated. After that night, I never again demanded sex from my wife. [The End]

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Life with Disabilities

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