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The Caregiver

"What happens when an oversexed young lady meets a perverted old man?"

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Emma had never been likely to make the ‘honour roll’ at school, preferring instead to take the easy path offered her by her stunning good looks to allow the ‘geeks’ to do her homework and assignments in exchange for the privilege of being merely acknowledged by her at school. However, that sort of work ethic was never going to get her a scholarship and, given that her working class heritage had precluded any chance of meeting and marrying anyone above her station, by the time she was 20 years old, the slim, 5’ 6” blonde, with perky tits, long legs and a beautiful face realized she had to change her ways or be doomed to a life of dead-end jobs.

So, naturally, Emma was ecstatic at being able to land a job as an “Home Care-Giver” so soon after obtaining her vocational certificates. Granted it was a very junior position, more like an apprenticeship really, however, it was another step closer to her goal of becoming a respected medical professional, or at least, that’s how she thought about it. She still had a lot to learn, however, she was excited at the prospect of working with patients and their myriad of problems whether they be physical, mental, emotional or even, and here she always giggled, sexual.

It was by chance that she stumbled upon this career choice when one of her last boyfriends had had an awful motorcycle accident that had left him almost paralysed and near suicidal with depression. Nothing Emma did had seemed to help, however, she was ever present as his therapist played her part in what became a full recovery. Emma had been enraptured by the work of the therapist who in turn had been supportive of Emma pursuing a career in her field and even got her started by referring her to an on-line college that helped her get accreditation.

That was just over two, and what became very lonely, hard working years ago. The irony of what hard work can give you was not lost on Emma, who had been fortunate enough to be hired by a local area health authority. She was enthusiastic about her new job, in which she would soon be working in the field, visiting predominantly senior, house-bound patients.

Unfortunately, Emma’s new boss was less than pleased about having what she considered a ‘dumb’ blonde foisted on her because of recently implemented budget cuts. Carol Denham was a 35 year old, professional, Occupational Therapist who had earned her stripes the old fashioned way and did not appreciate having to baby-sit and train her newly ‘qualified’ bimbo. Carol was an attractive, but hard-nosed brunette, who immediately found Emma annoying and had decided to make her new job a little more "challenging" in the hope that she would ‘walk away’ from the job or at the very least fail her probationary period. It did not take long for Emma to become aware of Carol's undeserved feelings towards her, but Emma resolved to prove herself.

Carol was responsible for planning the work roster and for ensuring that everyone on their patient list received a home visit at least once per month. Carol was quick to decide that Emma should deal primarily with the less cooperative patients and in particular one nasty piece of work by the name of George Brown.

George was a 60 year widower with a cantankerous disposition. He had suffered a mild stroke which, despite medical opinion to the contrary, had lead to a succession of related ailments that qualified him for home therapy. Personally, Carol thought he was basically a malingering, dirty old man who had enjoyed scaring off a succession of male and female Care-givers with his lewd and belligerent behaviour. The truth, known only to him, was that he was a very wiley old man who had learned to work the health care system to allay his main ailment – loneliness. With few friends of note, his regular care-giver visits were something he enjoyed, especially because he could be as rude as he wanted with few repercussions.

Carol briefed Emma on each of her patients for her first, unaccompanied week on the road, and made special emphasis of George’s case. The list of George’s ailments included, but were not limited to, poor mobility, depression, and, lately, impotence. Carol emphasised that George has suffered tremendous emotional trauma, first with the death of his wife and then the stroke, so Emma was to be particularly sensitive to his needs and that any indication that his progress had been impaired would look very bad on Emma. Emma was also reminded that her home visit reports, which must be submitted the same day as the visit to the patient was conducted, would be compared to a random selection of reviews of the service requested from the patients themselves.

Following the briefing Carol decided to phone the patients on Emma’s list to tell them of their new care-giver. She stressed to them that Emma would need to be extra tolerant of their needs in order to satisfy the terms of her job description and that any failings on her part should be reported to her immediately. Once sure her message had gotten through, Carol sat back with a smug grin on her lips.

Given the profile of her patient list, Emma had seen no reason to fret about the way she dressed. She knew that whatever she wore she would fetch admiring glances, however, her patients, so far, had seemed to bask in her beauty and regale her with stories of their own youth which made for rather pleasant visits – so far. Unfortunately, Emma was also aware that she had been the source of two less than complimentary reports by patients. Even though she felt the complaints were unfair and unreasonable, Carol had made a big deal of them and Emma would be lying to herself if she did not admit how much it worried her.

Emma arrived promptly at George's house for his 10 a.m. Thursday morning appointment. Always dressed professionally, but still very feminine, today she wore a light peach-coloured v-necked silk blouse, navy blue tailored pants suit, and some modest pumps with a 2” heel. Whilst not spectacular, she thought her attire was both fashionable and functional.

George was stunned at the blonde beauty at his door and drank in the vision of loveliness. He focused on and memorized the image of her lustrous, shoulder length blonde hair, the way she offered a hint of cleavage beneath her blouse and the exquisite shape of her toned, rounded, young ass encased in her snug fitting pants. He ushered her inside, lowering his folded newspaper to cover his stiffening cock as she sauntered in.

George needed to adjust himself lest this beauty turn round and see his rapidly hardening member bulging in his pants, so he said, “Just go on through to the lounge young lady. I’ll join you as soon as I’ve put the kettle on for a cuppa tea.”

Taking his offer of tea as yet another sign of the warmth and friendliness of most of her older patients, Emma turned, smiling, to thank Mr. Brown for the offer, however, her eyes were greeted by the sight of a man clearly in some discomfort and seemingly unable to stand straight, let alone walk very well. Suddenly Emma was overcome with both guilt and fear, and rushed toward George, taking him by his right arm to support him as he closed his door. “Oh Mr. Brown, forgive me. How insensitive of me. Are you in pain? Here, let me help you.”

Initially taken off balance, the quick witted old man realized an opportunity was presenting itself, so, whilst still clutching his newspaper in his left hand and using it to cover his hard-on, he leaned in on the sexy young blonde and played to her sympathies. “Oh, thank you my dear. It’s been a bad couple of days and I was beginning to think nobody cares about us old folk anymore.”

The pair limped into the lounge and George indicated toward his preferred armchair. He leaned further into Emma, feeling her struggle to maintain her balance and hold onto him but using it as an opportunity to gaze down her blouse and stare at her perky, firm breasts encased in a pink, lace-trimmed bra. Her struggle to assist him was causing her chest to heave, making her fleshy mounds move in erotic unison. They reached his armchair and George dropped his newspaper to the floor and quickly swung his left hand onto Emma’s right shoulder feigning a continuing need for support. As he lowered himself down into the armchair he ‘accidentally’ dropped his left hand down and grabbed her right breast through the material of her blouse. Even through the material George got a huge thrill at fondling this girls firm breast.

Emma’s eyes shot wide open as soon as George grabbed her right breast, but, other than emitting a short gasp, she said nothing. Even as he pawed her, seemingly massaging her breast as he tried to secure a grip, she remained silent, not daring to think the unthinkable and accuse an old man of being a pervert. She felt his fingers knead into her flesh as he took an inordinately long time to just sit down, but she excused his actions by his obvious discomfort. Even as she sensed her nipple becoming aroused all she could think about was how long it had been since anyone had touched her in a remotely sexual way. She quickly cut short her train of thought as she helped this “Poor man” to his seat.

Once George was finally sat down Emma followed his directions and went to make them each a cup of tea during which time George exercised some self-discipline and brought his cock back under control.

After some friendly chat it was time to get down to business and Emma reviewed the list of treatments he had been receiving to help George once again enjoy an independent, productive and satisfying life. Emma wanted to discuss the frequent references to ‘bathing’ in the file.

“This house is old. I don’t have no fancy shower, just a large iron bathtub, but it’s so hard to get in and out of, and so deep, that I’m afraid I’ll hurt myself and drown if I’m not careful,” said George. “Come on, let me show you.”

Emma followed George to the bathroom and was amazed at the size of George’s tub and at the age of the bathroom in general. “How often do you have a bath?” she asked.

Putting on his most sheepish face, George replied, “Well, you have to understand how difficult it is. ….er….I dunno…… maybe two weeks?” He then quickly added, “I still wash, standing up by the sink, …….but it’s not the same is it?”

“Oh you poor man!” Emma was overcome with sympathy for George, whereas he was positively jumping for joy at the direction this appointment was going. Emma could not help an impish impulse to brighten George’s day and said, cheerily, “Would you like me to help you have a bath today?”

George thought he was going to faint as he steadied himself against the sink. “Oh, yes please.”

George went and sat on his bed thinking as Emma ran a bath for him. It seemed like only moments had passed when she appeared at his door and said, “Oh, you’re not undressed. Is there something wrong?”

“Errr…..Since my stroke I sometimes struggle with my buttons.”

Emma smiled and moved toward the conniving old man. "Don't worry, I'll help you."

George leaned back and smiled inwardly as Emma bent over to unbutton his shirt. She provided him with another good view down the front of her blouse and his mouth watered as he gazed at her breasts held in place by her bra. His shirt undone, she moved down to his pants and he barely managed to suppress another budding erection as her delicate fingers unzipped him. He removed his shirt then lifted his buttocks as she unselfconsciously pulled his trousers then his underpants down to his ankles.

Emma gave a slight gasp at the sight before her. Like most old men George had an unattractive paunch, deathly-white skin pallor and a sagging wrinkly scrotum. What they usually did not have was a good sized cock. It must have been a good 6 inches and quite thick, even when limp as it was now. Emma couldn't help imagining what it must be like when erect and then, with another twinge of guilt, remembered his reported impotence.

Once naked, Emma helped a rather grubby George back to the bathroom where she helped him into the tub. George just sat there, projecting an image of helplessness. Emma thought that it must be that he was unable to wash himself and so eagerly seized the sponge and soap ready to begin washing him and maybe give him a little thrill at the same time. George was only too happy to lie back and have this beauty wash him.

As Emma lathered up George’s upper torso a wicked thought crossed her mind. "I can't wash you like this. I’ll ruin my clothes. George, do you have anything I could change into?”

Breathless, all George could do was limply point toward the back of the bathroom door and say, “Why don’t you change into that housecoat hanging on the door.”

Emma replied, "I suppose that would work. Thank you."

Emma stepped out of the bathroom, and slipped off her jacket, blouse and pants before realizing that the housecoat was obviously way too small to be George’s and would barely cover her modesty ending a good four inches above the knees of her long shapely legs. She caught a glimpse of herself in the bedroom mirror and her lips broke into a broad smile as she realized just how revealing her attire now was. “This will be fun,” she thought to herself as she headed back into the bathroom.

George was grateful for the soapy bubbles that covered his rapidly growing hard-on as Emma walked back into the bathroom. Cinched in the middle, the housecoat looked ridiculous, however, what it lacked in style it made up for in how it almost fully exposed the sweetest, longest pair of legs he had seen in a long while and how it bunched up under her breasts giving him a clearer view of her bra and those wonderfully firm tits.

Emma dropped down onto her haunches, grabbed the bath sponge and, leaning over the side of the tub, said, "Now, let’s get you cleaned up."

She resumed with his neck and upper body before skipping down to his legs and feet. Trying to keep the housecoat sufficiently closed to cover her body became an exercise in futility and after a few attempts at trying to keep herself covered she gave up and just decided to let it show as she tried to get the task in hand over with. Emma reveled in George’s apparent discomfort and was especially pleased at George’s blatant ogling of her body when she let the housecoat fall open and stay open. The unobstructed views of Emma’s lace bra and panties made George’s libido catch fire as Emma frequently had to spread her legs to reach across or into the tub to wash him.

Soon enough Emma stopped, hesitating, sponge in hand, as she contemplated whether or not she should cross a very obvious line by washing his groin area without his permission. "Perhaps you should do this last bit, just to make sure you are cleaned up properly."

"Oh, I think you’re doing a wonderful job. I…I…erm…don’t mind if you finish."

George was barely managing to control his cock below the surface of the water and was eager to see how this young girl would react when she had to wash it. Emma, however, was now conflicted by her mischievous need to continue and the knowledge that she had already broken every rule in the book. She nervously reached into the water and gasped as her hand encountered George’s semi-erect cock. She looked at the dirty old man as her hand began to fumble with the shaft, assessing its thickness and finally grasping it.

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Speechless, she felt the member begin to swell and harden in her grasp. As the cock became fully erect, she looked away from George’s smiling face toward the cause of her consternation and saw it rise, like some obscene sea serpent, through the bubbles on the surface of the bath water.

“Oh my,” said George with a barely concealed lustful grin on his lips, “it’s been a long time since that has happened.”

Entranced at this sudden turn of events, Emma marveled at the size and thickness of this old man’s cock. She could feel the vibrancy pulsing up against her palm, the heat from this marvelous beast radiating through the skin of her palm and, unconsciously, she began to slowly pull down on the shaft, pulling the fore skin of her patients cock down to fully expose the throbbing purple head of his cock. Gently, she moved her hand back up his shaft, causing what she knew must be pre-cum to appear at the eye of the serpent. Emma was overwhelmed with thoughts of how good it would feel to have this beast inside her and was lamenting her enforced celibacy when she heard George emit a deep, appreciative moan.

Emma briefly looked across at George, who was obviously enjoying her ministrations, before returning her gaze and attentions to his wonderfully thick cock. It seemed unfair that such a vibrant cock should be attached to such a wrinkled, smelly old man. Nevertheless, she continued, fascinated, to gently stroke the throbbing member, feeling the blood within the shaft pulse against her hand making it incredibly hard to the touch.

Emma became lost in her own thoughts even as George began trying to thrust his...

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Written by mercianknight
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