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When I came home early from work I was not surprised to find that my wife, Kelly, was not there. I figured she was next door at Stacy's, because she has been spending a lot of time there helping her out. Stacy lives in the apartment next to us. We did not know her well until rather recently. She's only twenty, a secretary and part-time student. At least, she was. At the moment she is neither, as she took a spill on a rainy sidewalk and broke her right arm so badly that it has to be immobilized in a full-length cast for four months. Laid off as a secretary and unable to take notes because she is right handed, Stacy dropped out of school and has been trying to find some sort of work she can do in order to pay the rent.
We found all of this out three weeks ago when we encountered Stacy in the laundry room in our apartment building's basement. She was struggling to get her wash into a dryer left-handed. At first I did not recognize her, as her previously waist-length straight blonde hair was now cut short in a style matching that of Katie Couric, the NBC Today Show anchor. She was also wearing wire-framed glasses rather than contacts. I had seen Stacy before in the hallways without paying much notice to her one way or another, although she is certainly pretty enough to hold anyone's attention. Stacy is about five feet four inches tall, very slender and almost Tom-boyish in appearance and manner.
Seeing Stacy with her arm in a cast and strap sling, Kelly immediately offered to help, and I did too, of course. We learned about her accident, about how much she hated the fiberglass cast and couldn't imagine how she was going to get through the next four months. Kelly has a soft spot for underdogs and she soon began visiting Stacy on a regular basis to help her fix meals, etc. She certainly needed help. It seems Stacy had broken not only her wrist and both bones in her forearm, but had also cracked the bone in her upper arm. Consequently, she was supposed to wear the sling at all times. Initially, she didn't even have the strength to hold anything with her right fingers or thumb. This changed as she healed, of course, but when Kelly first started going over to "lend a hand," poor Stacy was effectively as helpless as a person with only one arm.
I couldn't fault Kelly for assisting our injured neighbor during her most difficult phase, but she continued to do a lot of things for Stacy even after the girl began recovered some use of her right hand. Thus when I arrived home early and realized Kelly was probably at Stacy's once again, I was more than a little jealous of all the attention she was showing a relative stranger. Hell, I thought, its too bad it isn't Kelly who has the broken arm; then Stacy could spend her time helping us! I was in a pretty bad mood when I crossed the hall to knock of Stacy's door. No one answered, but I could hear music within, so when I found the door unlocked I entered and called out Kelly's name. Something -- some sixth sense perhaps -- prevented me from calling out twice. Instead, feeling rather silly, but somehow intensely alert, I passed through the empty living room, where music droned from a radio, and crept silently down the hall. I had never been anywhere in Stacy's place except the living room and kitchen, but the layout of her apartment was the same as ours, so I paused next to what I knew had to be her bedroom door.
The door was closed except for a small crack. Peering cautiously through it, I was stunned to see Kelly and Stacy stark naked in bed. Stacy was in a kneeling position facing me while my wife, lying flat on the bed, was licking Stacy's shaven pussy with hungry motions! Nothing in our past experiences, our two years of dating in college and our subsequent two years of marriage, had given me any hint that my Kelly was bisexual. Although angry about the time she was spending Stacy, I never dreamed they were attracted to each other. Stacy was just a neighbor with her broken arm in a cast. I never imagined Stacy as a lesbian. I had never speculated about her sex life at all.
And yet, having said this, I must confess that my immediate reaction to seeing my wife in bed with our injured neighbor was one you would never guess. I thought, how odd to wear glasses during sex! For not only was Stacy wearing her glasses as she knelt over my wife, but Kelly was wearing her own, nearly identical wire-framed glasses. You see, Kelly always takes her glasses off when we make love, and believe it or not the first though that passed through my mind was how odd it was to see my wife eating Stacy's snatch while both of them still wore their glasses. That's right. Instead of outrage over Kelly's lesbian behavior, I wondered why she hadn't removed her glasses! I know this makes no sense, but that was the first thought through my mind.
My second reaction was equally unusual. I thought, how strange to see a naked girl with a broken arm! You simply don't associate casts with nudity, and you don't think of a girl with her arm in a sling having sex of any kind. I know its silly, but here I was seeing Stacy in the buff and it was her broken arm, immobilized in a cast and supported by a strap sling, that held my attention. Mind you, the rest of Stacy was very much worth looking at, particularly her breasts. They were not quite as large as my wife's DD-cup beauties, but Stacy had much bigger breasts than I had realized, given her slender frame. As she gyrated slowly above my wife's hungry lips, her back arched and her head thrown back, eyes closed in delight, the cast and sling framed a lovely pair of high, firm breasts, at least D-cup in size, with large, erect nipples.
I'm not sure how long I stood at the door, for I soon lost track of time. As Kelly slurped Stacy's pussy and Stacy moaned softly, I kept staring at the cast on Stacy's broken arm. I found it strangely attractive. Or rather, I found it attractive on Stacy, the same way I might react to high heels, stockings, and a garter belt. The cast rested dull white against Stacy's tanned midriff, its hardness and rigidity contrasting with her softness and supple motions. Too bad Kelly doesn't have a broken arm too, I thought, and then wondered how I could think anything so strange as to wish my wife was wearing a cast?
Since the doorway was only open a crack I wasn't afraid of being discovered, which was good, as a throbbing erection now demanded my attention. Ashamed of myself (rather than outraged at Kelly cheating one me???) I plunged my hand into my pants and sought relief. I was still wondering what I should do when Stacy finally came with a prolonged shudder. She collapsed backwards with a contented look on her face and for a few moments the two girls lay silently, breathing hard. Finally Stacy spoke. "Are you ready?" she asked. "Do it," Kelly replied. My tall, dark haired wife moved to the edge of the bed, lifted her slender, long legs high in the air, and held them wide apart with her hands gripping her firm thighs. Kneeling on the carpet beside the bed, Stacy applied her tongue to my wife's cunt with what appeared to be practiced ease. Seeing Kelly being eaten by another girl was more than I could stand. I quietly unzipped my pants and let my erection burst free. As Stacy licked and tongued my wife's snatch, I stroked myself slowly. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Kelly, my beautiful wife, who had been a virgin when we met four years ago and had never slept with any man but me, was spreading her legs for our injured neighbor!
The scene was incredible. The girls were now sideways to me. Stacy was on her knees, resting her left arm against the edge of the bed as she leaned forward to lick and kiss Kelly's crotch. Her casted right arm hung down from the sling around her neck, her breasts dangling heavily with their own weight, her erect nipples pressing against the off-white fiberglass below.
My wife was trembling and moaning, obviously near a climax, and my own stroking had nearly pushed me over the edge. Stacy then suddenly drew back. "Are you sure you want to try this?" she said. "It will probably hurt quite a lot." Kelly replied with the low throaty eagerness of a woman lost in ecstacy. "Do it! Fuck me as hard as you can!" Stacy stood up, removed her arm sling, and stretched, giving me a full view of her for the first time. She was gorgeous! The full-length cast on her broken arm somehow emphasized the nakedness of the rest of her body. In a way I can't explain, Stacy's beautiful white cast made her seem more naked than she would have been otherwise. Seeing her there, nude and injured, I knew that from then on the sight of any woman wearing a cast would arouse me sexually.
After kneeling back down, Stacy began fingering my wife's pussy with her right hand, the one encased in fiberglass. With slow stokes she began inserting first one, then two, then all four fingers into Kelly's twat. "Oh, baby, you're so wet," Stacy crooned. "Do it," Kelly cried. "Shove it up me!" My eyes nearly dropped from my head as Stacy lunged forward, driving her broken arm into Kelly's pussy, inserting her hard cast directly into my wife's vagina! I had heard of fist-fucking, of course, and knew that a woman's vagina can stretch to accommodate a person's hand, but this was unreal! Stacy's arm and hand were quite slender, and the cast was not overly thick, but together they were formidable to say the least. As I watched in utter disbelief, Stacy plunged her arm cast deep, deep into Kelly's cunt. The rigid white fiberglass disappeared into the taught pink flesh of her open crotch like a giant dildo. The effect would have been about the same as being fucked by the large end of a baseball bat! Kelly let out a shriek that appeared to mix pain and pleasure in equal proportions, but instead of halting Stacy shoved that much harder. Imagine! One beautiful girl, naked except for a cast on her broken right arm, thrusting her arm cast up the pussy on another, equally beautiful naked girl!
After what seemed like an impossibly deep plunge, Stacy pulled back, slowly easing her cast-covered forearm almost all the way from Kelly's cunt. Then she rammed it home again, mercilessly hard, causing Kelly to scream so loud I was sure she could have been heard out in the hall even above the rock music that continued to play in the background. Stacy pumped again and again, building a rhythm, reaming Kelly's pussy with her cast as Kelly alternately cried out in agony and groaned with pleasure, her legs spread as wide as possible and held high above her. This incredible fist-fuck (or cast-fuck, I should say) seemed to go on forever. I really don't know how long Stacy pounded Kelly, as I was too caught up in watching everything. In and out, in and out, hard and deep, the white cast on Stacy's broken arm stretched Kelly's pussy with painful pleasure. Stacy was shoving her cast in more than half way up her forearm, a length of at least ten inches. I couldn't imagine Kelly handling a penis that large, but the long, hard cast on Stacy's broken arm was driving her crazy. Her thighs were spread as wide as possible, and she kept begging Stacy to pump harder and deeper! Kelly finally came with a body-wrenching orgasm, just as I spurted all over the hallway carpet.
When Stacy pulled her arm out of my wife's vagina I was expecting to see her cast covered in blood, but it wasn't. "I can't believe you talked me into this," she said. "Do you have any idea how much that hurt my arm? I'm not supposed to have my arm out of the sling for another six weeks." She placed the sling back around her neck and gingerly settled her cast into the loops on both ends of the strap. Stacy's arm hurt? I wondered how much her cast had hurt Kelly's twat! My wife lay on the bed sobbing softly, both hands clutching her crotch, her legs still wide apart. My wife had never given any signs of masochism, but she obviously enjoyed having her pussy painfully violated.
While this incredible show was taking place, I must have leaned against the bedroom door, since it was now open almost halfway. As Stacy turned around, she caught sight of me, and my unzipped pants and flaccid, dripping prick left nothing to the imagination. Our gaze met, but after a moment of surprise a sensuous look came into her eyes. Instead of blushing or hiding her nakedness, she planted her left arm on her hip and trust out her breasts. They rose high and firm above her arm cast, jutting proudly from her narrow chest. "Enjoy the show, Steve?" she said.
The moment Stacy spoke my name, Kelly bolted upright in bed. With a shriek, she pushed herself simultaneously up and backward. Shocked by my discovery of her wanton lesbian behavior, she instinctively tried to rise and run away. The result was disastrous. As Kelly stumbled blindly backward, her left leg slipped into the crack between the headboard of the bed and the mattress, and in her surprise and panic she fell to her left. As her weight carried her sideways, her leg initially remained trapped. The strain was too much for the bones in her shin. She hit the floor hard. Although her leg pulled free, it was bent at an impossible angle. Surprisingly, Kelly did not scream. Instead, she stared at her broken leg in utter disbelief. Stacy looked over at me and said, "Now you'll have to take care of both of us." Then she moved to the bedside phone to dial 911.
To be continued ...
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