Helping The Elderly Ch. 01 free porn video

"We have literally dozens of senior citizens that need some sort of assistance or another. We can use whatever help you can give us." Mrs. Collins needed volunteers desperately. The senior center was relying too heavily on the few volunteers they had already.

Tracy was looking for something to do that would give her life more purpose. At forty-two years old, her two c***dren were away at college and her husband wanted her to keep her schedule open so he would rather she didn't find a job. No matter where she decided to spend her time, however, Tracy got attention. At 5'4 130 pounds, blonde with a narrow waist, round ass and big, full 36DD breasts with pinkish-red nipples, she looked like she might have been a model or even an adult film star. She looked much younger than she really was. Lots of exercise and staying out of the sun helped keep her very young looking. Tracy was pretty naïve in general, and had little experience sexually outside of her husband and a couple of boyfriends. She dressed rather conservatively, although it didn't matter too much what she wore as her hot body could simply not be hidden very well.

"Well, I suppose I could give you an hour or two, let's say three times per week? What do you need me to do?" Tracy started to feel good about volunteering, that she was doing some good in the world.

"I think I will have you visit Mr. Goodson. He is a widower and a lock-in and doesn't get out much, if at all. He has almost no family and he would be a good place to start volunteering." Mrs. Collins gave Tracy the case file for her to start with. Harry Goodson was a seventy-eight year old ex-construction foreman and was depressed after having lost his wife of fifty years last year. He was black and requested a volunteer to help him with some minor health problems, keep him company, and possibly help him with some minor chores.

Tracy was excited. "Mr. Goodson, huh? I can't wait!"

She was to visit Mr. Goodson on Tuesdays and Thursdays. The Center recommended that she spend ninety minutes to two hours with him as these times were about the minimum that a visit would be most effective. They suggested bringing over some cards and other board games, but that the time should be interactive and not taken up with too much TV, napping, or on the computer.

"Now, don't let him waste your time. You are going out of your way to be a companion to him so be sure to keep him engaged. If you do decide to watch TV, be sure it is not a regular activity and that you do it together. Try to remember that he is older and from a different generation. You may want to dress much like you are now. Tracy was wearing a blue knee-length skirt and a patterned blouse with four-inch navy blue heels.

Tracy's first visit began the following day, Tuesday. When she got home, she laid out a black skirt with a white, sleeveless blouse and black heels. Her husband, Jim, did not approve of the volunteer work, but thought it best to let her have this time to feel good about something. Now that the k**s were gone she had little to do around the house.

The next morning, Tracy took a shower, dressed, had breakfast and set her GPS to Mr. Goodson's address.

The directions took her to an older part of her town, not a bad neighborhood, but not one she would choose to live in either.

"454 Acacia Street, Number 3." Tracy had found the duplex that Mr. Goodson lived in and approached the door straightening her skirt and fixing her hair that she wore in a bun for this occasion.

She rang the bell and listened intently for signs of life from the other side. She thought she heard a woman's voice moan or singing, but it was hard to tell.

The door opened swiftly and there stood a 6-foot tall bald, black man with a dark, charcoal complexion, and round beer belly. He was wrinkled and very old looking and was wearing basketball shorts and a guinea T-shirt.

"Hello there Darlin,' you from the Senior Citizens Center?" He scratched his groin and adjusted himself causing Tracy to look aside for a moment.

"Yes, I am! My name is Tracy Moore. How do you do?" Tracy extended her hand and was relieved to have finally met her first volunteer "case." She was also happy to see that he seemed nice and was not bed-ridden.

She walked in and found a clean and well-organized condo. The furnishings were old, as were the appliances and pictures on the wall; it smelled a little old and stuffy in there. She was surprised to see what looked to be a 60" flat screen TV in the living room area and a desktop computer on a table pushed up against the wall on the opposite side.

She looked around some more, then turned to him and asked,

"Do you have anything you would like to do for our first visit?" Tracy had her hands folded together at her waist and this pushed her already huge breasts out even more.

Harry Goodson thought to himself "Damn. Look at this fine specimen that is in my house. I could cum in my pants she's so hot...and innocent acting too! Just like I like."

He was thrilled this hot, white, big-breasted blonde bitch had been assigned to him. He planned to take advantage of this woman to the fullest. He had some Viagra he was saving for an occasion just like this, but he also knew he needed to take it slow if was to get what he wanted from her.

"Well, young lady. I haven't been feeling too well lately" Harry was lying. He wanted to see how far he could take her today, on her first visit. Normally, the Center sent volunteers that resembled retired nurses. This hot piece of ass really changed the nature of the game. He sighed and continued.

"I have an issue with my circulation in my legs and I was just about to take a bath. Would you mind helping fill the tub and make sure I don't slip? Maybe you can read to me or tell me something about yourself while I soak." Mr. Goodson looked at Tracy's reaction carefully- seeing how she would handle this request that actually required that he get naked during her visit.

"That sounds like a great idea!" She replied enthusiastically.

Her attitude about this volunteer work was more clinical than social. Tracy saw herself almost like a hospice worker or geriatric nurse caring for this decrepit old man; helping him ease comfortably into the final phase of his life. She saw no innuendo or inappropriateness in Mr. Goodson's request. In fact, she was delighted she could actually do something besides play cards or make him lunch.

Tracy proceeded to the bathroom and started the water. She looked under the sink and found an old box of bath bubbles that must have belonged to his deceased wife. She added some to the water and walked back out into the living room where Mr. Goodson was sitting on the couch watching every move she made. He had just taken a Viagra, although he felt his cock begin to get hard even without it.

"The tub is almost full, Mr. Goodson. Why don't you undress in the bathroom and let me know when it is okay to come in?"

Harry was thinking how to play this. The needier, older, and more incapable he came across, the easier it would be to request more hands-on assistance. The gamble was that she might find that unappealing or inappropriate. His ultimate goal was to make this sexy white woman into a fuck buddy, or better yet, a slave to his black cock, but he couldn't do that if he presented himself as someone who needed no assistance at all. She didn't seem like the type to cheat, and she was treating him more like a c***d than a virile older man.

He knew how to play this.

"Okay, young lady. I may need you to help me get in so I don't slip and break a hip or something like that." He watched her reaction again. This time she looked away and seemed to think about it.

"Hmm. How can we get him into the tub without him being totally exposed and embarrassed by me being there? Well, I will just have to look away." Tracy thought as she kept her eyes on the soap dish.

"I will just have to turn my head to give you privacy." She responded.

With that, Mr. Goodson got up and shuffled slowly into the bathroom. He was about halfway to an erection. He knew that even at half-mast, his dick was a sight to behold. His buddies used to call him "Three-leg" because his cock hung down between his legs about ten inches...he was a little over a foot when completely hard. All this white girl had to do was get a glimpse at the monster underwater, or even as he lowered into the tub and he would be dick-deep in the pussy soon enough.

Tracy was outside the bathroom with a towel. Harry had walked into the bathroom expecting to see a bathtub full of warm, clear water. His plan was to be clearly visible to her while he sat in the tub. This obviously wasn't going to happen when the tub was filled with bubbles.

He walked in and dropped his shorts, scooted out of his underwear and yelled for help.

"Tracy, darling,' I need some help gettin' in." He smiled to himself for sounding so weak and pathetic.

"I'm right here, Mr. Goodson." Tracy wrapped the towel around him and took his hand while she guided him from behind. He took one step into the warm water, then his other leg went in. Tracy had her head turned away the whole time and saw nothing of his huge penis.

"Are you safely in?" She asked.

"Yes." Harry sat down, his plan foiled. He had to think quickly.

"Why don't you pull up that footstool in the living room and sit by the bath so you can help with my circulation." Harry was into his Plan B.

Tracy found the small, padded stool and moved it next to the bath.

"How can I help you with your problem?" She asked wearing a sad expression on her face as though Harry was ill or suffering.

I need you to rub my legs and try to work some blood into them. Don't be shy, and don't worry about hurting me either. This is a serious condition." Harry tried his best to sound concerned about the whole situation.

Tracy eagerly reached into the tub and felt through the warm, sudsy water for his right leg. She sat above the bath facing him on the stool so she could easily access both legs. Under the bubbles Harry was slowly stroking his massive cock. He was nearly at full power.

He intentionally and quickly moved the arm nearest Tracy carelessly as he reached for his leg and soaked her blouse with bathwater. He smiled to himself as she responded.

"Oh my gosh!" Tracy got up immediately and backed away from the tub. Harry had to keep from grinning as she looked down at her wet shirt. Harry could see the shape of her breasts and the style of bra she was wearing as the water made the shirt nearly transparent.

"I am so sorry, Darlin! Don't you worry about it none. I have a washer and dryer in the closet in the hall just off the kitchen. Just pop it in the dryer for a few minutes. Don't mind me, it won't bother me that you're in your bra." Harry offered his devilish solution.

"Are you sure it's okay?" Tracy asked.

"Oh, now. An old man like me? Honey, I have seen it all. Don't you worry about a thing. Go get your shirt dry!"

Tracy didn't feel a sexual vibe coming from Harry at all. In fact, she saw him as a sweet, old, helpless gentleman. She felt very comfortable around him.

She found the dryer and put her blouse in it. Then returned to the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her chest.

Harry's disappointment returned as he saw Tracy come back into the bathroom with a towel covering her massive rack. "Damn bitch! Take it off already!" He thought to himself. Luckily for Harry, she let it fall to the side as she sat back down and reached for his leg again.

Tracy had to bend down to get at Harry's leg so the towel had to go. She thought nothing of it actually. She was so preoccupied with helping this poor old man with his condition that she just began doing what needed to be done. He was too old for her to make a sexual connection with, or so she thought at the time.

Mr. Goodson finally caught a break. Sitting within arm's reach of him was the most beautiful, buxom, hottest woman he had ever seen. Her full, round snow-white tits were bursting out of the low-cut bra she wore. Nearly half of her breasts were exposed and in full view of the dirty-minded old black man. Her tits jiggled back and forth as she began to rub her hands into the flesh of his leg. The head of his cock was starting to surface from the depth of the tub like a giant periscope on a submarine, although she could not see it through the bubbles, he felt like it was in plain view.

Tracy was determined to bring Mr. Goodson relief. She began with his ugly, crooked toes on his right foot. She twisted and pulled on each one. Then kneaded and pressed his heel, then calf, and up to his hamstring and quadriceps. She was getting a little tired and felt a trickle of sweat drip down the side of her cheek.

"How does that feel?" She asked innocently.

Harry was stroking his cock in the bubbles as he watched her tits bounce with each movement.

"Oh, that's helping a lot. How about the other one now?"

"Okay!" Tracy readjusted herself and found that she had to reach a bit farther to get to his left leg because it was on the other side of the tub. While she did this, she felt something stiff and smooth rub against her arm. She had no idea what it could be, so she just thought it was his hand.

Harry's gigantic, rock-hard cock was sliding and bumping into Tracy's arm and part of her breast as she leaned over the tub and worked his other leg. He was holding the black club at its base and was purposely and obscenely tapping her with it. He couldn't believe the situation he was in. He felt like shooting cum all over her. She couldn't see what it was that was rubbing into her, but soon she had massaged her way up to the thigh of his left leg and was pulling back to end the massage when she noticed the thing that had been touching her moving around in the bubbles. For some reason, she reached out and grabbed it.

"What is...? Oh my God! Mr. Goodson! Is that what I think it is!?"

She let go of the enormous cock as if it were red-hot, pulled her arm and chest away from the water and looked in shock at the old, leather-faced black man.

"I am so sorry, Tracy. I can't help it. My circulation problem has to do with my lower extremities...all of my extremities. Both my legs, my penis, and my testicles are all affected by my condition. The doctors are afraid I will get a blood clot and have a stroke or worse if I don't receive regular massages. I'm just an old man. Who can I ask to help me with my circulation? I have no family and the nurses stopped coming to treat me a long time ago."

Harry had no such condition, but he was on a roll, and he knew this woman wouldn't give him the time of day sexually without some specific reason. This was a performance of a lifetime. As his tall tale continued, he noticed that Tracy seemed to be sympathetic. She was buying it!

"Oh, poor Mr. Goodson! That sounds horrible! You poor, poor man."

Tracy was standing now as he continued to lay in the tub. She looked at the center of the water where his erection was becoming visible through the soap. She felt uncomfortable at the thought of touching another man's penis. Even for a poor, old, feeble black man, it was still a penis and it wasn't her husband's...no, it certainly wasn't her husbands. This looked giant. Her thoughts strayed to what might happen if she didn't help him. "He could die!" She thought. She then thought about how she would go about helping him. "Maybe if I ask my husband...to get permission. No, that wouldn't work. He wouldn't be able to actually see how pitiful Mr. Goodson is. He wouldn't understand."

Clearly this was a medical condition and nothing more. Tracy continued to rationalize. "I don't even like black men. I have never been attracted to one. This won't be anything but a medical treatment."

Tracy sat back down on her stool and continued to think. Part of her was intrigued in a way that strayed from the "medical condition" reasoning.

"Okay, Mr. Goodson. Let me see what I can do. Please explain how I can help improve the circulation in all of your extremities." Tracy sat with her arms resting on the tub wearing a concerned look on her face.

She seemed agreeable. Harry nearly blew his load right then. He couldn't believe he had lucked into this situation. Now he needed to make sure he didn't scare her off.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, young lady! You may have saved my life!"

Tracy gave a sad smile. Feeling true pity for the man.

"Well, Tracy, I will need my penis to be rubbed starting at the bottom and working up to the top. Use both your hands. My testicles should be massaged gently as you work on the penis too. This is how the doctor told me it should be done. The doctor said that the best practice is for me to actually ejaculate, but I don't think that will be possible. I am no longer a sexual man and although my penis may react to being massaged, it's unlikely that I will ejaculate."

This last lie would hopefully put her at ease a bit. In fact, Harry's lies were working like a charm on the sheltered, gullible housewife.

"Well, we will see what we can do." Tracy looked at the situation with new purpose. Massage, improve circulation, and try to get his penis to ejaculate to help with the circulation. She never realized how serious helping senior citizens could be. This old man needed her to help his medical condition. "Thank God I signed up to help!" She thought.

Tracy was a little worried about the ejaculation part. She did not consider herself very good at sex. Her husband always ejaculated pretty quickly, so she never really had to work at them. Maybe she could just treat it like a fast massage and that would work.

Tracy decided to go ahead and try. She reached through the shrinking bath suds and easily found the monster lurking beneath the water. "I'm about to touch another man's penis." Was all she could think about.

"My God! This can't be right. He is enormous. I can't see what it looks like, but I can tell he is almost as long as my entire forearm. I can barely get my hands around it! I have never heard of anything so big! This is a weird, gross THING, not a penis."

Tracy had a surprised look on her face. Her eyes became wide as she looked over at Mr. Goodson.

"Um, Mr. Goodson? Is the size of your, you know, part of the medical issue too, or is that normal for you?" Tracy's voice shook a little from her surprise as she wrapped both hands around the dark, black snake.

"Well, I have always been a big man, so I guess not, no. This is just me."

He was attempting to keep himself from being overtly sexual, so she wouldn't become suspicious. He found this impossible to do when Tracy's large breasts were hanging over the bathtub barely staying in her bra. He added:

"I'm sure your husband is a big man down there too, isn't he?" Harry asked trying to keep a straight face.

"Oh, well, no, not exactly." Tracy thought about how small her husband's penis actually was and how little she got to see of it over the past several years. The thought that she was now touching another man's penis, a black man's penis even, suddenly registered with her. "I haven't touched another man's penis in over 20 years! This is strange, but I must do a good job nonetheless. Focus, Tracy! Mr. Goodson needs you!" She squeezed his thick, pulsing penis with both her hands, but still could not see its entirety. She tugged on it, pulled it, yanked on it, but really had no idea how to go about giving the poor man relief. It felt powerful in her hands and she was a bit intimidated by it.

Seeing that she clearly did not know how to jack off a dick, Harry was happy to give her direction.

"Grab the base, the bottom of the penis, Tracy, with one hand on top of the other and stroke the whole length. Up and down, over and over."

He had to remember to be as un-sexual as possible. He knew this would not take long even with her inexperience. He hadn't had any sexual contact with a woman for at least five years. And never with a woman that could have been a model for Playboy, like Tracy.

Tracy began the slow stroke as per Mr. Goodson's directions. She looked at his face, then back at the water.

"Rub the top of it real hard, it needs more circulation." He continued. After about ten minutes of constant, steady stroking, Harry began to feel the start of an orgasm churning in his cock.

"Hold your hands still and let me slide my penis in them." Tracy obliged.

Tracy had one hand on top of the other forming a hole with her two hands as Harry's cock moved its length through the tight space she created. He looked over to see her luscious tits heaving and moving around as a result of his thrusts. Her back was arched and her ample ass stuck out.

"Grip it tighter!" He said as his rock-hard cock began fucking her hands as she tried to keep them stationary to allow his motion. He bucked his hips up through the water. Tracy's body moved with his thrusts. Her tits gyrated as she tried to get the old man to cum. He was fucking her through her hands and her body shook in sync with his thrusts.

Tracy thought "He is using my hands to stimulate his penis! It looks like he is getting very worked up!" Her eyes were fixed on the gigantic cock that worked its way through the soapy water as it slid through her hands. This was not like anything she had ever done before. Touching her husband, Jim, was never like this. This was an exhilarating feeling, it was exciting. She liked helping Mr. Goodson with his medical problems. She was so glad she signed up at the Center! As he continued, she thought she saw his pee-hole open up even wider than it already was and then a loud yell emanated from Mr. Goodson:

"God damn fuck, girl!"

Tracy looked down at the penis and saw a huge, thick stream of thick, white fluid shoot up and away from the giant b**st of a penis. He pushed his cock into her hands and she instinctively tightened her grip and pushed down as he pushed up. He squirted three more similar streams before he collapsed back into the water. Water had splashed over the tub and his cries echoed loudly through the bathroom. Tracy tried to keep jerking, but the water was moving in waves over the tub and getting close to Mr. Goodson's face. She was in shock. She wasn't quite sure what had just happened, but she knew one thing, she liked it. Something stirred within her that she had never felt before, and she liked it.

"Damn, girl! I have never had an orgasm like that in my life! How did that happen? I don't have orgasms anymore, remember?"

Harry played up her role in this accomplishment knowing she would consider it a compliment, a reward for her altruism and efforts in helping a "feeble" old black man with a circulation problem.

Tracy was beyond excited.

"Oh, Mr. Goodson! I can't believe it! What an accomplishment! You ejaculated!"

"Yes, indeed I did, little lady. You have temporarily made my condition much, much better. I know my old, withered body will feel a lot of relief because of your hard work. I can't believe I ca...ejaculated. You are an excellent ther****t!"

Tracy beamed as she pulled her now dry blouse on over her breasts. Harry sighed as they disappeared under the material.

"Well, Mr. Goodson, I would say that our first session was a success, wouldn't you?" Tracy was getting ready to leave. She wanted to tell her husband Jim all about how she helped this old black man today.

"It definitely was. You have magic hands and a real understanding of how to get my circulation going. When is our next visit?" He asked with a more serious look on his face.

"I am scheduled for Tuesdays and Thursdays 10:00 to around 12:00. So, I guess I will see you Thursday?" Tracy said as she looked at her cell phone.

"Yes, that should be okay." He purposely looked dejected, hopefully she will leave his home with the impression that he still needs lots of help.

"Oh, poor dear!" She reached out and rubbed his shoulder and tilted her head to one side.

"Try to hold on until Thursday. I will be here at 10:00 sharp."

With that she gave him a kiss on the cheek and left.

Harry was beside himself with sexual passion for Tracy. As soon as she left he went online, found some interracial porn and masturbated.

Tracy drove the several miles home deep in thought about the nature of her visit with Mr. Goodson. She came to the conclusion that he was really in a difficult physical situation without her help. Who else cared enough to help him with his condition? The man was old and who knows how many years, or even months he has before he passes away? Her sense of duty was elevated considerably by the fact that what she did, what she touched, what she saw today excited her to the very core of her being. What caused her to misinterpret her feelings was the age and physical appearance of the man. The fact that Mr. Goodson was as old as he was helped her bury the sexual nature of her "therapy" and proceed as if it really was a medical condition that she was assisting him with. Deep down, much of her excitement had to do with having regular access to a giant, black penis. A lust was developing within her. A lust she never even knew she had.

By the time she arrived home, she had decided not to tell her husband anything other than they talked and he was a nice, old fellow.

That night, after cleaning the dishes from diner. Tracy and her husband went for a swim in their pool.

"Hey, Honey? Let's skinny dip!" Jim suggested, grinning like a school boy.

"Jimmy!" What has gotten into you? We've never done that before!" She squeaked back.

Tracy was in the pool while Jim was on the deck. With a sexy look on his face, he slowly walked over and pulled his swim suit down and tossed it on the lounge chair. He stood above her pushing his penis out toward her, with his hands on his hips. "What do you think about this?" He said, referring to his erect penis.

She began to laugh. Small giggles at first, then louder, full chuckles.

"What?!" Jim protested.

"Nothing, Honey." Tracy was staring up at a penis that was about the size of an index finger in length when fully erect. She had never thought much about his size before, except now, after spending about a half hour stroking Mr. Goodson's monster today, she realized that her husband had the penis of a small boy. Of course she couldn't tell him that. Ever.

She took off her suit and swam away from him. The two chased each other under and above the water and finally, she let Jim catch her.

"Now you are mine!" He chided.

"Oh no! What now?" She played along.

Then, for the first time in months Tracy's husband made love to her. Straddling him in the pool, she was unable to have an orgasm by the time he came. She would have to masturbate later if she wanted to cum.

What puzzled her was that she was thinking about stroking that marvelous black penis she had in her hands earlier that day. It was the first time she had ever fantasized about someone other than her husband, and she found herself doing it throughout the evening. She quickly put the thought out of her mind as she prepared herself for bed.

That night as Tracy, the good Samaritan was preparing to sleep, she thought about poor Mr. Goodson and his dreadful condition. "I wonder how I can better help him?" She pondered. "Maybe I should buy some special the****utic oils and a massage table. Where would I go to get a massage table?" There was much she needed to do before her next visit on Thursday.

The next day, Tracy stopped by a day spa after a trip to the grocery store and picked up some massage oils to help Mr. Goodson's circulation. She asked about a massage table and discovered they were not as easy to come by as she once thought. She ordered a portable one for $200.00 that would arrive in five business days.

That night, Tracy and Jim discussed her volunteer work.

"How did it go yesterday? Do you like the work?" Jim was cutting into his steak and looked to Tracy for an answer.

"It's a wonderful experience, Jim! I feel so good about myself and I feel much better about how I use my time. I am actually needed! The poor old soul has no one in his life. I hope neither of us end up alone like he is."

Her beautiful blue eyes were wide with enthusiasm for her new found purpose. She described her visit with Mr. Goodson, where he lived, what his home was like, general information. She left out the treatment in the bathtub.

"Sounds great, Honey! I am glad you have something to do to get you out of your head during the day." Jim went back to his steak and Tracy began to prepare dessert. That night, she found herself thinking about Mr. Goodson and how he was feeling. She started to lay out her clothes for her visit.

She picked out a light blue cotton skirt that was a little shorter than the one she wore previously, a yellow, short sleeved blouse and a pretty push-up style bra. She spent more time on her bra selection probably because she found herself wearing her bra in front of Mr. Goodson on Tuesday. If an accident like that happened again, she wanted to look pretty.

Thursday morning. Tracy jumped out of bed and saw her husband off to work. She took a long shower and dressed in the clothes she set out the night before.

Her skirt was shorter than she remembered. It was too sexy for her to wear out, but for some reason thought it would be okay for her visit with Mr. Goodson. Her yellow blouse hugged her big breasts and even revealed the cleavage created by her hidden push up bra. She looked at herself from several angles and decided she looked good.

She grabbed the massage oil she purchased the day before and left for her visit. She was giddy and carefree. It surprised her how much she had been looking forward to this. Tracy barely took her finger off the bell when Mr. Goodson opened the door with a smile on his face.

"Well lookie here! If it ain't my favorite ther****t! Come on in girl!"

"Hello, Mr. Goodson!" She stepped up to him and kissed him on the cheek.

"Oooh wee! You look mighty pretty today, little lady!" He ogled her voluptuous frame and rubbed her back as he escorted her into the living room.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Goodson? Are you needing treatment again?" Tracy was hoping he would say yes. She really liked helping him with his circulation.

"As a matter of fact, I feel awful. My legs are cramped and my uh, my...testicles are swollen and need attention." Harry sat down on his couch and looked up to see if this dumb blonde still bought the story he was selling.

"Then I am so glad that I am here! We should get started right away. Should I draw a bath again?"

"No, no, not today. I already took a bath earlier and I don't think it was the best place for the massage. How about on the floor with a bedsheet spread out?" He offered.

"I think that's a great idea!" Tracy pushed the coffee table out of the way and cleared out a wide area for the therapy to take place.

She found a white sheet in a linen closet and spread it out smooth across the carpeted floor. Harry sat slumped on the couch and pretended to be in pain. Tracy took him by the arm and guided him to the center of the sheet. She had a couple of towels folded for him to rest his head on. He laid down on his back.

"Now, where exactly are you feeling pain?" Tracy asked.

Harry pointed to his thighs, calves, testicles, and penis.

"Mr. Goodson, I really think you need to get out of those clothes and wrap this towel around you so I can get at those problem areas."

Tracy had her hands on her hips and looked so sexy, Harry wanted to fuck her right then and there.

"Alright, I'll go change." Harry limped into his bedroom on the other side of the house and came out a few minutes later with a towel around his waist. Tracy noticed the foot-long pipe that caused a ridge in the towel between his legs. She felt something stir within her. A tingle of excitement that had nothing to do with helping this old man's circulation. His saggy chest and beer belly only made the black man look all the more pathetic. She tilted her head and pouted.

"Aw, Mr. Goodson, you look like you're in pain." She offered.

"I am, Missy, I am."

He returned to the center of the sheet and lied down. Tracy got the bottles of massage oil out and explained each.

"This one is lavender and lime. She held the bottle to his nose. Then this one is cucumber and dill. And this one is a heating oil meant to warm the skin." She explained.

"You're making me hungry!" He smiled. "Let's go with the one you like most." He suggested.

She was about to open the oil when Harry warned her:

"Aren't you going to get that nice blouse and skirt dirty and oily? Shouldn't you take them off?"

Tracy looked down at her outfit. "I hadn't even thought about that. I guess you're right. Oh well, it's not like you haven't seen me in my underwear before!" She laughed.

"Oh it don't matter to me. Seen one, seen 'em all." Of course nothing could be further from the truth. Harry knew her body was a rare gem. A perfect combination of curves and soft, white flesh. Utterly irresistible.

Tracy stood up and carefully removed her blouse. Her arms pulled the shirt up over her tits revealing the massive, soft cleavage created by her white and yellow striped push up bra. Harry had lust in his eyes and was almost completely hard under his towel, which had now become a tent.

She slipped out of her skirt and revealed high-cut panties that showed off a lot of ass cheek. She carefully folded her clothing and placed it on the coffee table.

"Glad you caught that! I would have ruined that nice blouse!" She then squatted down next to him, sitting at his waist toward his face. "Let's see what we have here."

Tracy looked at the towel sticking almost straight up in the air. She had butterflies in her stomach. She was excited and wanted to start.

Taking the oil out, she poured some on her hand and backed herself up to work on his feet. She rubbed the oil on his broken-down, wrinkled feet and began working her way up his legs. She had to slow herself down and reminded herself not to rush the legs.

What she really wanted was to massage his giant, black, snake of a penis again. It really needed her special healing touch. Even while she was massaging his legs, her eyes were trained upon his crotch.

After about ten minutes of rubbing and oiling up his legs, Tracy was finally at his groin. She oiled her hands up again and slowly reached under the towel and felt for his testicles.

"Be gentle now." He reminded her. "And roll each one in your hands and spend some time with them."

Tracy followed his orders. Her hands found his stretched-out scrotum. She felt the strange skin and realized that she had never touched a scrotum like she was now doing. She had brushed up against Jim's but never purposely felt it.

Harry's testicles were huge. The size of golf balls. She had to massage one at a time. They were oval shaped and heavier than she was expecting. She rolled them around and pulled on them through the skin. She moved each one back-and-forth in her hands.

"That's enough of my balls...er, testicles. My penis is killing me. I need it rubbed too. Don't try to make me ejaculate though. The last time was a fluke." Harry once again offered his fake warning, in hopes she met it as a challenge.

Tracy thought "well, we will have to see about that, won't we?" And vowed to herself to try. As she sat up, her breasts heaved under her bra. Her patient lay partially under a towel and she poured still more oil onto her hands.

"How are we doing under here?" She reached over and removed the towel. Mr. Goodson was now completely naked and for the first time, Tracy looked upon the 12.5" monster that Harry so blatantly displayed in front of her. She lost her breath. Her mouth was watering for some reason.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. She looked at the thick, black, long penis as if it were a god. She found it difficult to remain focused on the "treatment."

"Umm...It's so hard, Mr. Goodson, how does it feel?"

"It feels sore and it has been getting erect more frequently since you made it ejaculate. The doctor says that's good and that I should try to get it hard at least once every day."

Harry was breaking out into a cold sweat. The blonde angel was sitting on her knees right next to him in her underwear and a very sexy bra with her enormous tits spilling out, about to jack him off. He couldn't believe his luck.

"Would you like me to start massaging it now?" She asked innocently.

"Yes, please. Stroke it from the top all the way to the base. Make sure you get it good and coated with oil."

Tracy poured oil both on her hands and on his cock. The slick massage oil slowly dripped down the full length of his cock as it was held steady by Harry's hands.

She looked at the cock with c***d-like enthusiasm. Like a little girl who just received a puppy for Christmas. She was in heaven. She started a two-hand stroke at a very slow pace. Starting from the top all the way down to the base of the shaft and back up again. It took her considerable time when compared to stroking her husband. She could only use one hand on her husband anyway, and that covered his penis completely. This was a completely different experience.

"Are you feeling relief, Mr. Goodson?" Her high pitched voice increased his already steel-like hardness.

"Yes, my darling. A little faster, please." She was moving her whole body as she stroked him up and down. Her tits looked amazing as they somehow stayed in that fucking sexy bra even as she pumped his dick so vigorously.

Tracy increased her speed and found that she was getting tired pretty quickly. She was determined to have him ejaculate again. She knew that this is what the doctor ordered.

Her hands kept the increased pace and she began to sweat. After about ten minutes of constant stroking, she stopped her current method and began to use one hand on his penis and one massaging his testicles.

She looked at his face and wondered what else she could do to help him feel better. "That poor old black man. I wish there was something else I could do!"

As she was bent over examining his testicles, she felt a stiffening in his very hard member. She returned to her two-handed method and he began to breathe harder.

"That's it, pretty girl...pump me hard now...hard!" He commanded.

Tracy was going as fast as she could along the thick shaft. She noticed his body began to become very tense and then...a loud shout, "Damn!" followed by an explosion of semen erupting from the tall, black rod. Tracy watched it as it shot up about a foot into the air and landed on her arm. She continued to stroke. The next shot landed on her hand and the rest on the sheet in a small puddle.

"Oh, wow! Oh, Mr. Goodson! Twice in one week! Boy, your doctor is going to be happy about that!" She cooed. She continued stroking his cock.

"Oh that's the way to do it, girl. You are all kinds of helpful to this old man."

Harry was, once again totally spent from the orgasm this hot, white wife just gave to him. He had never come so hard from a hand job. His next project was to work on progressing the activity into her mouth and pussy...possibly, one day her ass. But he was satisfied with hand jobs for now.

She was still holding his dick. He smiled. Confident that he would one day have his way with her.

"Tracy, I need to talk to you about something." He was wiping the semen off of his penis and stomach. It's about Tuesdays and Thursdays."

"Oh no! Are these days no good for you?" She stopped cleaning herself off and gave the old man her attention.

"Well, the doctor told me this might happen. He said that once I began to resume my circulation treatment, that the pain may intensify until I get on a regular schedule. Yesterday, when you were gone, I had the worst time with the pain. I had to sit in my recliner nearly the whole darned day! Is there anything you can do to maybe see about coming over on other days as well as Tuesdays, and Thursdays, if I ever get...too stiff, or my circulation needs help? I tried calling the nurses association and they said that I need to ask my wife or a friend, that they didn't do those circulation massages anymore."

Harry was knee-deep in his bullshit, but he had a pretty good notion that Tracy was a natural submissive who had been pretty seriously neglected for several years and was eager to serve. Combine this with a sexual appetite that she was only now beginning to recognize and he knew he could be fucking her several times a week in the very near future.

He gave her the best sad face he could muster.

Tracy was overjoyed to hear his humble request. She had wanted to check in on him and asked if he needed help yesterday, but had to put the thought out of her mind. She had been thinking about him all day.

"Mr. Goodson, I would be more than happy to make myself more available to you so that you don't have to experience the pain you endured yesterday! Why don't we exchange phone numbers and I will program you into my iPhone so whenever you call, I will know immediately who it is and what needs to be done."

Harry could not be more pleased with himself. He had the best looking, sexiest woman he had ever seen at his disposal. A shame this couldn't have happened twenty or thirty years ago!

The two exchanged numbers, Tracy put hers in her phone under "HG Urgent" to remind her how important the call was. Harry told her where he kept his spare key in the front flowerbed in case she needed to get in the house for some reason.

As she bent over to kiss his forehead while he sat on his Lazy Boy, she felt his hands reach up and cup one of her breasts. As she felt this, she pressed her lips into his forehead using more pressure and extended the peck for a few seconds. For some reason, she felt obliged to allow him access to her body at that moment, but she didn't process this as anything other than him being appreciative. She turned and left his home.

"I squeezed both of those heavenly tits and she let me. She let me! I must have had my hands on her for five seconds before she broke off! I am gonna need to work on a faster plan to get at that pussy." Harry spent the rest of the day plotting how he would systematically and gradually win her over.

Part II

"All I am saying is that Mr. Goodson, the 78-year-old senior citizen that I am helping, may need me to run an errand for him and help him here and there throughout the week. It's no big deal. You can call him, or the Center if you need more information about the program."

Tracy was explaining her new "on call" status for Mr. Goodson. She knew Jim wasn't going to like it.

"Honey, I work and provide for you so you don't have to work. I expect you to be here for ME when I need you." Actually, Jim only wanted to make sure that she wasn't having an affair and she wasn't going to become too busy to make dinner for him.

Those were really his only concerns. Jim had plenty of friends that he was wanting to spend more time with, and would were Tracy not so damn dependent upon him. This may just free him up a little more.

To address Jim's concerns, she called Mr. Goodson and told him that her husband wanted to meet him. She was confident that once he saw the old man for himself, he would have no reservations.

Harry welcomed the idea of meeting Tracy's husband. This would ensure that she would be able to visit whenever he felt the urge. This was all her idea and it was perfect!

They were going to go out for ice cream and stop by Mr. Goodson's house after that, around eight o'clock that night. To prepare, Harry put on a clean T-shirt, some tight underwear to hide his package, clean slacks, house slippers, and a robe. "That is the outfit of a sick old man!" He snickered.

Next, he gathered all his medication and placed it on the end table next to his reclining chair in the living room to add to the effect. He laid some crossword puzzles neatly on the coffee table and turned the TV on to a 24-hour Christian channel.

Just before eight he put on his thickest pair of reading glasses. "Icing on the cake." He thought. He sat in his chair and waited for the doorbell.

"He lives here? Jim asked. "This isn't so bad. I'm relieved that he doesn't live in the projects, or in a rough neighborhood. How old is this guy again?"

"Mr. Goodson is 78-years old, Honey. He has had a difficult life and his condition is not getting better. He lost his wife last year and lives alone now."

Jim parked his Audi in the driveway and waited for his wife to lead him to the door.

Harry answered the door. Hunched over and looking like a completely different man than the one who was shooting his cum high into the air in front of Jim's wife just a few hours ago.

"Hello Mr. Goodson." Tracy reached for his hand and was taken back by just how old and feeble her new friend looked at that moment.

"Eh? Oh, why hello there, Mrs. Moore. Nice to see you again. It's been a while." Harry was overacting a bit, but it was effective.

Confused, Tracy reminded him.

"No, it was just this afternoon, remember?"

"Oh, yes, yes. I'm sorry. Just woke up from a nap. Please, please come in."

He scooted and shuffled his way back and away from the door while the married couple made their way into the living room.

"Mr. Goodson, my name is Jim Moore, Tracy's husband. We were in the area, and I thought, well, since you and my wife will be spending more time together, that we should at least be introduced."

Jim felt horrible for having the slightest doubt about his wife's story. Clearly, this was an old man who needed all the help he could get.

"Oh, yes. Thank you, Jim, for allowing your wife to come by and help me. I hope it doesn't put you out any. I am very, very appreciative."

Harry saw the pity in their eyes. He knew his act was working.

The couple sat and listened to Harry's list of fake symptoms that he needed help with. Tracy noticed he didn't use the word "massage" nor did he give any specifics about what she does to help with his physical symptoms. She decided that sort of information was probably too private and should stay that way.

After about thirty minutes Tracy and her husband left and Harry opened a beer while he put all the geriatric paraphernalia away. It was a big day in his grand scheme to make Tracy his fuck-buddy. He couldn't wait to make his first urgent call tomorrow.

Meanwhile in the car, the two discussed Harry's situation.

"Honey, I think what you are doing with that old man is a good thing. He looked awful and I know you must feel pretty good helping him out."

"I do! My life feels like it has purpose again!"

Tracy was excited and relieved that the meeting went so well. She couldn't help but notice how bad Mr. Goodson looked. Maybe because it was at night, after a long day. She vowed to call him tomorrow.

In the morning, she called Mr. Goodson to let him know that she was available to visit with him every day of the week if needed. He asked if she could come over that morning as he was in pain. She began getting dressed.

She was putting away her bra she wore the day before and noticed oil stains on it.

"Darn it! This is an expensive bra!" She looked in her drawer for another, but she realized that she didn't want oil on any of her bras. Tracy looked in her closet for a supportive sports top and found a couple of older shirts she used to wear when she played tennis. She chose the light blue one that, although tight, was supportive enough for her DD breasts. She wore a tennis skirt and tennis shoes to make the shirt work as an outfit and left for Mr. Goodson's house. She was on top of the world.

On her way out, she stopped at the mirror in the foyer. She was shocked to see not only her nipples were showing, but she could also see her areolas through the light fabric as well. It occurred to her that she normally wore a pretty substantial sports bra whenever she wore this particular shirt. She decided that Mr. Goodson most likely wouldn't even notice or care. She reminded herself not to make any other stops until she was able to change.

Tracy didn't even consider what she would do if she needed to take her shirt off to avoid getting it oily. She then got into her car and left.

She parked her car in Mr. Goodson's driveway and rang the bell.

"Good morning, Precious!" He greeted Tracy with a kiss on the cheek. Harry stood back and took in the sexy sight.

Tracy's tight tennis shirt clung to every inch of her weighty breasts. Her nipples were fully erect and the bumps on her areolas were visible. He had seen lingerie that was less revealing. Her skirt was one of those sexy little numbers that wealthy housewives wore when they played at the club. She looked dynamite!

"Good morning! How are you today? What can I do for you first, Mr. Goodson?"

"Tracy, tell me. How did last night's visit go from your end?" Harry wanted to make sure she didn't talk about his "condition" using too much detail with her husband.

"Well, Jim is very understanding. He fully supports my helping you. As far as any specifics go, we didn't talk about your circulation problem. That's private medical information, isn't it?" She asked just to confirm.

"Absolutely. I would be embarrassed if anyone found out about my condition." Harry affirmed.

"As for today, he continued, I think I would like to watch a movie. Would you like to join me, or do you just want to give me my massage and be on your way?"

Harry wanted to spend all day with this prime specimen of a woman, but thought he should let her know he expected at the least, the usual massage.

"That sounds like fun! Any movie you would like to see?" Tracy was delighted to keep this sweet old man company and watch a movie.

She let him work the controls while she made the two of them some iced tea.

Harry was not so much about the movie as he was about wearing down Tracy's personal boundaries. He wanted her to completely give in to a sexual relationship without limits and to do this, he would need to normalize some behaviors she may be averse to. Sitting together, spending alone time together, gave him all sorts of opportunities to work on her.

He was seventy-eight years old, after all. How much sexually active time did he have left anyway? He needed this.

Harry decided to watch "Forrest Gump" on a cable channel. Tracy said that she liked it too.

The sexy, curvy, blonde took her shoes off and curled her legs up on the couch and waited for Harry to join her. He had stepped into his bedroom to change clothes. He came out with a short cotton robe that came up to his mid-thighs and a T-shirt. The large, bulbous knob of his penis was exposed below the robe's hem. As he walked out of his room, Tracy noticed it dangling and bumping against his thigh. Her crotch began getting wet and she averted her eyes. "It must be difficult to have a penis that large. It's like a handicap of sorts!" She thought.

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. He had the "innocent, old man excuse" and took advantage of Tracy's understanding and helpful nature. Harry sat down to the left of Tracy. Close. She knew the man needed companionship and was happy he felt comfortable enough with her to have sat so close.

As the movie began, Harry leaned back into the couch so he could get a better look at Tracy's tits. As he did this, he could see her left breast and nipple in her tight shirt. He gradually separated the robe and untied the belt which exposed his cock completely. He watched her reaction. She hadn't noticed.

He began to stroke his cock while looking at her left tit, but she still didn't notice. He decided to be more obvious. He grabbed his Viagra-enriched cock at the middle and started jacking off slowly. He was already about ninety percent hard. She would surely see his big, black cock in her peripheral vision.

Tracy loved the part of Forrest Gump where the boy out ran the bullies and broke free from his braces. She smiled and was about to look over to see if Mr. Goodson was also enjoying the scene when something caught her eye.

"Is Mr. Goodson stroking himself next to me? Oh my! Why would he be doing that?" She did not want to turn her head because she would then be expected to say something and react in some way. She focused her eyes as far left as she could to see as much as possible without turning her head. She felt excited and curious and even a little scared. She could just make out his right hand moving up and down the shaft. He was definitely stroking himself. She thought "Was he feeling sexual? Did he need his circulation treatment? He said he wasn't feeling sexual anymore. He must need a circulation massage. This was the only logical explanation. How should she handle it? Just be direct, be helpful, Tracy!" She thought to herself.

"Oh! Mr. Goodson! Do you need help with your circulation?" Tracy looked at his hand moving against his penis. She knew she could never tire of looking at his gigantic member. It seemed to excite her far more than she could admit.

"That would be great, Darlin.' It started botherin' me before we put the movie on." He found it difficult to keep from smiling.

She asked where the oils were and fetched the bottles, put some on her hand and used her left hand to stimulate Harry's black cock. Once she settled back down, she continued watching the movie. During a particularly dark scene, she saw their reflection in the TV. It was an awesome sight. She was slowly jacking off Mr. Goodson as she watched Forrest Gump. "This isn't exactly what I thought his treatment should be, but he is the one who determines that." She thought. And continued to stroke his cock as she watched the movie.

Harry began to move his hips up to her hand in long thrusting motions. Tracy kept up her slow, deliberate pace. She was no longer interested in the movie. Now she was casually jacking him off.

"This just isn't working. When your hand is on the shaft of my dic...penis, the head doesn't get touched. When the head gets touched, the shaft gets ignored. Do you think you could use both hands?" He tried to sound as though he was actually in pain.

"I am so sorry!" Tracy apologized. "I will focus more on your therapy now. I'm sorry!" She moved a couch pillow to the floor and got between his legs, then poured oil onto his enormous penis. Harry spread his legs wide apart.

Harry's plan was playing out perfectly. Tracy was on her knees between his legs stroking his cock with both hands. She couldn't hide the excitement she felt. Her eyes were fixed upon his glistening, slippery black tool, when she wasn't smiling, she was biting her lip as though she was in deep concentration. He needed to further this along.

Tracy's hands were wrapped around Mr. Goodson's penis one atop the other. Her strokes were long and she tried to squeeze and touch the whole length. She found it impossible to cover the whole thing without leaving a large part of it untouched.

Harry sat back enjoying the show. The sight of this hot blonde wife with huge tits sitting kneeling between his legs jacking him off was a sight to behold. He would be satisfied with this treatment even if this was all she ever did. But he knew he could get her to do more. Much, much more. She enjoyed this too much. She was ready for more.

"This is good, Tracy, but I need the head-at the top-to be rubbed while the shaft is massaged." Harry planted the idea in her head that she would have to try harder.

"Well, how about this?"

She used her left hand to stroke and placed her right hand on his penis head. She began squeezing and rubbing the head in a circular motion.

"That's good. That might work for now." Harry watched intently as she moved her hands frantically as she tried to service the foot-long b**st.

"Better watch the oil or it will get on your shirt!"

Tracy stopped her stroking and let go of the giant penis. It fell back down and made a huge thud sound when hit his chest. She looked down and realized that she needed to stay away from the oil covered penis or she would get oil on her clothes. This wasn't such a big deal to her except that as often as she was performing her massage duties, there would be a lot of ruined clothes every week.

She was about to take her top off and go completely naked, but thought better of it. She looked concerned.

"Mr. Goodson, I don't have a bra on. I didn't wear one because I didn't want to get it dirty, but forgot to bring an old shirt that I didn't mind getting oil on. I don't know what I should do."

She had her hands resting on both of Mr. Goodson's legs and had a slightly troubled look on her face.

"Is that what you're worried about? Tracy, I am an old, old man. I was married for fifty-two years. I have two c***dren and four grandc***dren. I have seen it all. Seeing a young lady like yourself naked, or half naked don't matter to me. My sex life is over sweetie!"

He smiled and reached down to caress her cheek.

"Whatever you feel comfortable with. I wouldn't want to be responsible for you ruining all those clothes on my account though."

Harry felt his response was a good one. It would have to be her decision to take her top off or not. He paid attention to her reaction. How she solved this issue now may determine her readiness to get naked in the future. He needed her to want to do this.

Tracy was busy thinking. "I haven't let another man see my naked body in over twenty years, but this isn't sex, and this isn't some young man trying to see my boobs. Maybe I could buy an apron or some cheap T-shirts. No, that's ridiculous. If his wife were here she would be doing this, probably topless. He's so nice and needs my help so much. Oh, the heck with it!"

It wasn't Tracy's intention to be sexy, she just was. Her naiveté and simple-minded approach to this situation made her even more sexy in Harry's eyes.

Harry was staring holes in her shirt trying to imagine what her breasts looked like un covered.

Just then he watched her wipe her hands on a towel, cross her arms at the base of her shirt and slowly lift the light blue tennis shirt up and over her breasts. The shirt clung tightly to each one so when she pulled the hem over them, they were lifted up, then fell down ending in a jiggle. She tossed the shirt on the table.

Harry's dick became even more erect, if that were possible. He was now faced with the most beautiful, perfect tits he had ever laid eyes on. Hard, pinkish-red nipples sticking up about a half inch in the air surrounded by areolas that appeared to be about one inch in diameter. Her flesh was perfectly white. Her nipples where oriented toward the top half of her breasts and her breasts were full, heavy and hung down slightly. In one motion, she scooped up his erect member and began stroking his cock again. "Holy Mary mother of God." Harry thought to himself. He had seen nothing sexier in all of his long life.

Unfortunately, he was forced to act like this wasn't a big deal because he had just explained to her that it wasn't. He felt he needed to act like her exposing her breasts to him as she kneeled before him, between his legs, while stroking his cock, was no big deal. But it was. It was a big fucking deal.

Tracy didn't feel self-conscious at all. She was so comfortable with this old man that she did not feel awkward. What surprised her was how sexually stimulated she was. She found that not only did she enjoy the good feelings she got from helping him, but that she was growing very, very attached to his penis. She had tried to keep her mind on the therapy, but it was impossible not to enjoy, even crave touching this giant...work of art. She was just becoming aware of these feelings and she hadn't really thought about them or what they even meant. She did know that she never wanted these "sessions" to stop.

"You have a beautiful body, Tracy. I am glad you feel comfortable enough with me that you can be yourself around me."

She smiled and looked deep into his eyes as she stroked his penis.

With every motion up, then down, her tits bounced and wiggled. She noticed that, even though Mr. Goodson said her taking her top off was no big deal, his erection became a lot harder and his breathing increased. In fact, he hadn't stopped staring at her breasts the entire time and he felt like he's about to...

"Faster Tracy...faster!" Harry sounded desperate. "Oh good God!" Harry's hips started to thrust upward as the first stream of semen gushed out of his cock.

Tracy had her mouth open in a gasp of delight. His semen shot up across his legs landing on her face and into part of her mouth. Harry pointed his cock toward Tracy as she gripped the base and shot a second stream straight at her hitting her mouth and chin. Yet another stream landed on her breasts. His hips bucked into her hands as she pushed into the base of his shaft. She could feel him tremble under her strokes. She was fucking his huge shaft with her hands. It was obvious to Harry that she enjoyed this.

"Oh! Damn. That was good!" Harry had almost forgotten this was not supposed to be sexual, so he stopped himself from saying anything more.

Tracy's first reaction was to jump up and get a paper towel and wipe the semen off. Before she got up, Harry noticed she swallowed the semen that landed in her mouth and licked the drops that had landed on her lips. She looked like she was in another world.

"His semen tastes rich and both salty and sweet at the same time. I have never tasted sperm before." She thought to herself.

The two cleaned up a bit and finished watching Forrest Gump. Tracy put her head on Harry's chest as they watched the movie. Harry couldn't stop from grinning over the fact that Tracy had stopped massaging him an hour ago and put the oil away, yet remained topless. His cock hung down between his legs under her head. She didn't seem to care.

After the movie, she got up and made Mr. Goodson some soup from a can and a grilled cheese sandwich.

"We will need to get you some healthier groceries." She remarked. "You are doing so well with your therapy that you will need to keep your strength up!"

"You are too kind, Tracy. Thank you for all that you do for me!" Harry finished his lunch and watched her tidy up his kitchen.

Before Tracy came into his life, Harry took care of his unusually high sex drive by masturbating to Internet pornography. He had a huge collection of downloaded video clips and high definition still photos. Most of these had a well-hung black man having sex with a younger white woman. He was a collector and his collection was neatly arranged according to the genre, sex act, and details about the performers. His computer was mostly used for porn since he normally used the phone for communicating with friends and family. He found it unbelievable that he would find a woman who was hotter, better built and more beautiful than even the best female porn stars. He felt truly blessed.

"I am going to need to take my afternoon nap, Tracy. Thank you for the massage and for lunch. You are welcome to stay. I sleep for an hour every afternoon."