Special Needs
A mature wife struggles to care for a "special needs" guest.

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Jean Hayes-- 40-year-old wife of business owner, Rodger. He's in his early 60s and has totally lost interest in sex for the past year and a half.

Troy Martin-- 19-year-old son of Jason and Mica Troy. Jason is Rodger's business partner. Troy is a low to moderately functioning autistic. He has one younger brother, Carl, who's 18.

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"It's only for an afternoon and overnight," Rodger said.

"That's one afternoon and night too much," I said into my phone.

"Jean, you know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't absolutely necessary. Jason and I are stuck here in Philadelphia and won't be back to Connecticut until about noon tomorrow."

"Can't Jason's mother take BOTH boys for a night?"

"Jean, she's old and tired and needs this less than you do. One teenager is all she can handle."

"Why did Mica's mother have to pick this week to get sick and go to the hospital a hundred miles away?" I didn't want an answer as much as I wanted a way out.

"Good question. But that doesn't change the answer: you have to take care of Troy for less than twenty-four hours so Mica can be with her mother."

"Rodger, I've only met your new partner's wife once. They've never even invited us over, even though they live just thirty miles away. And, I've never seen their kids. Won't this be kind of odd, I mean, him having to be with a complete stranger?"

"Maybe you're right. Forget the whole thing," Rodger said.

"Really!" I gasped with relief.

"NO, not really. Listen. Jason and I are here trying to put this deal together and busting our asses day and night to get it done. The least you can do is pitch in a little bit. Mica will be there with Troy in less than an hour."

"I'm dreading this," I said. I wanted Rodger to know this was a big deal he was asking.

"Try to make the best of it. You always talked about wanting to have a child. We just weren't lucky enough, no matter how much we tried. This will be a good experience. Use some of those maternal instincts with Troy."

I didn't know if I HAD any maternal instincts. Not having a baby was the biggest disappointment of my life. Nothing could ever change that now that Rodger was so old. Marrying a successful older man eighteen years ago seemed glamorous and exciting. Now ....

"But Troy--"

"Gotta go," Rodger snapped, "meeting's starting. See you tomorrow. Relax ... and have fun."

"Rodger. Rodger!" But, he had already hung up.

********************************************

"Mica, come in!" I tried to sound welcoming, but don't think I succeeded. Mica didn't seem to care because she turned to her car parked in the driveway and yelled: "I told you to come in and meet Mrs. Hayes. Now move!"

The figure in the car didn't move. But Mica did, and hauled a small suitcase across the hallway and plunked it in front of the stairs.

"Everything he needs is in here, including some swimming trunks for that big beautiful pool Rodger is always telling Jason about. He likes the water. Just keep an eye on him. You know how boys are"

I really didn't know how boys were. Not the slightest clue. I put my hand on Mica's arm, and said, "I'm sorry about your mother, but before you go, could you tell me just a little about Troy?"

She took in a deep breath and let it all out. "Troy? Not many people ask about him. Makes them uncomfortable."

"Well, if you'd rather not ..." I started.

"No. I don't get the chance to tell anyone what a blessing I think Troy is. Lots of people may pity Jason and me, but I think having Troy has made us appreciate life more. made us better parents."

She crossed her arms, then continued: "Troy can get along pretty well. He never has spoken, and he stares like he doesn't know what's going on, but I'd like to think there's a real person with a real personality going on in there. He's on his own program of doing thing and can function with eating and dressing and sleeping. Things he's done a million times before. Sometimes he'll get stuck in the middle of a routine, and you have to just start him on the right direction. He sees an action sometimes, and will not stop until heâ€™s mimicked it. He loves hugs, too; there's no denying that. "

"So he keeps to himself and pretty much is on automatic?"

"Very much so, in fact, too much so," she said. "He follows basic directions very well, and he loves his phone and looks at its screen a lot. I think the bright light and colors of the home screen give him some sort of anchor, some stability."

I nodded, a little relieved at what she had said. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad for the day Troy was here.

"Troy's such a good boy. I wish there were some way to show him, some way to add something to his life that would make him happy, let him know just a few of the pleasures we all take for granted."

"I just want you to know how much I admire you for the strength you have in dealing with Troy every single day," I said.

"Thanks. Now, from dutiful mother, I have to drive a hundred miles and be a dutiful daughter."

I followed her out the front door. She turned to the boy who had seated himself on one of our porch chairs and said, "You behave yourself for Mrs. Hayes. Your father will pick you up tomorrow."

He didn't look up from his phone.

"We'll be fine," I reassured her. I hope I sounded more confident than I felt. I walked with Mica to her car.

She got in, started it, and before backing out of the driveway, said, "He's a good boy. Just be patient and firm with him." She waved to him, but he kept looking at his phone.

I watched Mica's car disappear, and wished I was leaving too instead of having the responsibility that sat on my porch. I took a deep breath and knew it was time to introduce myself and get to know Troy.

*******************************************

He looked so young and helpless sitting there. Sandy-colored hair and dark-blue eyes. He was wearing black running shorts and a gray t-shirt. He looked remarkably fit and toned, but I had heard that some like him don't know their own strength.

He never bothered to look at me until I kneeled next to him and began to speak. I spoke loudly and slowly, enunciating each word so he could understand better.

"Troy," I said. "Troy, my name is Mrs. Hayes. You are going to stay here in this house tonight."

He quickly looked at me and wrinkled up his face like I had surprised him.

"Troy ... Troy, we're going in the house now."

His face became a complete blank and he didn't move. I pointed to the front door, but he stayed there. I finally gently took him by the wrists and guided him to his feet. He was a good six inches shorter than my 5'10" and probably twenty pounds lighter than my 140 pounds.

What he did next, I never would have guessed. He slowly stepped close to me and hugged me. He rested his head against my chest and made little patting motions against my back with the flats of his hands. I let him stay like that for a few moments before I disentangled myself. I took this as a good sign.

"Troy, let me show you around the house." I looked him square in those unknowing eyes, hoping something of what I was saying would take hold with a little meaning. "This is where you'll be staying until your father comes tomorrow."

I walked him around, showing the rooms. When we came to the bathroom, he grabbed at his crotch and made little side-to-side motions.

"Do you have to use the bathroom, Troy?" He kept making the motions. I asked several more times with no different response.

Finally, I lifted the toilet seat and positioned him facing it. He just stood there, hand on crotch. His movements became more frantic though.

Mica had said he gets stuck sometimes. This, naturally, had to be one of those times. The only way I could think to unstick him was to pull his shorts down.

I gently took his hand away, and tugged at the tight elastic waistband of his shorts. They had a mesh inner, and he wasn't wearing underwear. I pulled them past his buttocks, and halfway down his thighs. I kept waiting for his routine programming to kick in.

Instead, a randomly-aimed yellow stream shot toward the floor. Without thinking or hesitating, I reached around Troy, took hold of his penis and aimed it toward the center of the toilet. It continued in a forceful arc for another fifteen seconds.

All that time, I had Troy's uncircumcised penis in the palm of my upturned hand, my thumb guiding it downward. When it stopped, I took some tissue and wiped him clean. Troy reached forward and flushed the toilet.

"THAT, you remember how to do," I laughed, as I pulled his shorts up.

This teenager hadn't been in the house for five minutes, and already I had touched his cock. Not the beginning I would have guessed.

I continued the tour while we were in the bathroom. "This is the shower, Troy. You let me know if you want to use it, and I'll help you. Do you understand?" His eyes told me nothing.

I dragged his suitcase into the spare bedroom, put it on the bed, and zipped it open. In it, all neatly packed were enough clothes for several days. Mica had prepared well. I considered putting everything into the bureau, but thought that would make it harder for Troy to find things. So, I left it open and put it against the wall aside of his bed.

"This is your bed, Troy," I said and sat down on it. Troy responded by coming over and pushing on the mattress several times. Then, he sat beside me. He bounced lightly. I bounced too, and laughed. Troy let out his breath and lay back down, his feet still on the floor. He stared at the ceiling for a long time.

I lay back, turned on my side, and propped myself up on an elbow. I looked at this beautiful boy and felt sad that he would never know a normal life, never grow up and have a girlfriend. Never get married. Never have kids of his own.

"What are you thinking, Troy?" I asked into those unblinking blue eyes. They didn't answer.

I got up, pulled him into a sitting position, and asked: "How about a swim? And then we'll have lunch."

I went to his bag, pulled out his swimming trunks, and laid them on the bed. I took his hands and pointed them towards the ceiling, then lifted his t-shirt off him. I was surprised to see what a nice physique he had--muscled chest and shoulders and defined abs. Evenly tanned too.

I wondered if he knew how to take his sneakers off, and thought it would be easier to just do it for him.

Swimming trunks held in front of him, I said, "Put these on while I put on mine." I pointed in the direction of my bedroom next door.

My door stayed open so I could listen in case Troy got into trouble. I shucked off all my clothes and pulled my orange bikini off the hanger in my closet.

As I passed the full-length mirror sitting in the corner, I paused to assess my 40-year-old frame. Hardly any gray hairs amidst the brown. Strong tan lines flashed from so many afternoons by the pool. Running, yoga, and training at the gym three times a week kept me firm and strong and flexible. Even my 38C boobs hadn't shown more than a little relaxing downward with their weight and age. My thick, dark pubic bush was trimmed only to the edge of the bikini bottoms--I liked the natural look.

"Not bad, old gir--" The rest of that breath came out in a scream. Behind me, in the mirror, stood Troy, clutching his phone.

My first instinct was to duck for cover and get something over my nakedness. But, as I looked at Troy, a greater concern was for his immediate safety. His trunks were around his ankles and he was shuffling forward, on the verge of tripping and hurting himself. How would I explain that?

Besides, it wasn't like I was naked in front of someone who would even register or remember it. So, instead, I rushed over to him and knelt down to pull up his trunks.

As I started to pull them up, a slight and slow movement caught my eye. Troy's penis was just at eye level, and it twitched, and then creeping past the foreskin emerged the tip of his penis. I was shocked to inaction, and I froze there.

More of it emerged, shedding the surrounding covering. The whole head of it was out now, shiny with a deep purple ring surrounding its mushroom shape. More and more until there was no longer a hint of the foreskin other than the attaching ridge on the underside.

There before me, throbbing, and fully erect, was the biggest penis I had ever seen. Not only bigger than I had ever seen, but bigger than I had ever imagined.

It wasn't just that it was long, but it was sooo thick.

I looked up at Troy's face, but he was staring either straight ahead or at his phone, oblivious to what was happening down here.

"It's so beautiful," I whispered out loud before realizing what I had done. I looked up again, but there was no reaction to my words. I knew I should continue with the simple task of pulling up those trunks, but the startling sight just inches from my face kept me kneeling there, motionless.

Rodger hadn't been fully hard in more years than I could remember. And, his wasn't half as big as this boy's magnificent cock.

Although I knew it was terribly wrong, I wanted to touch it. Just once to touch it and test its hardness against my grip. Something in my mind argued desperately against that.

"But, it's not like I haven't already touched it before?" I counterargued, querying myself.

My right hand went up, like it didn't even belong to me, and my fingertips lightly brushed along the top of the shaft. It was hot.

My fingers traced all the way forward, following the contour of head's curvature and brushing over the dark hole at the end. Those fingers tried to encircle it, but their length proved laughably inadequate.

I squeezed, and it felt like steel encased in velvet. My squeeze forced a clear drop of liquid to the tip.

"Troy, you're so huge. I've got to know how big!"

I got up, grabbed my robe and threw it on. "Stay right there," I said, and then looking again at that monster cock, added, "just like that!"

I ran down the stairs to the kitchen and opened the leftmost drawer beneath the counter. "Ahh!" I said as I pulled my old cloth tape measure out that I used for sewing. Up the stairs as fast as I could, and there was Troy--right where I left him.

But, with one major difference: his penis had retreated back into its protective covering. "Oh, no!" I said with disappointment and a tinge of anger. Then it occurred to me that this was a sign that I had let things get out of control. I waited for a minute in front of him, just in case Mr. Penis decided to make a return appearance, but it didn't happen.

The thought crossed my mind to try and coax it back to life (I had loads of experience doing that with Rodger when he couldn't perform), but my better judgement took hold and I put the tape measure in my robe pocket, pulled his trunks back up, and guided Troy back to his bedroom. I sat him on the bed.

"Troy, wait here for me while I put my bathing suit on. Then, we'll have a swim."

A minute later I took Troy by the hand and we both, suitably dressed in swimming attire, used the cement steps at the shallow end of the pool to enter the water.

I didn't know how much help Troy needed in the water, so I took it slow. I faced him and had his hands in mine as we walked to about chest deep. The water felt cool and refreshing compared to the blazing sun.

I said, "Isn't this nice, Troy?" He responded by taking a step toward me and hugging me tight. I waited for him to let go, but when he didn't, reached behind me to disengage his arms. This forced my breasts hard against his face, which he had planted against my chest at the beginning of the hug.

I got him loose and swam to the deep end. He stood there for a second and then did a sort of a squat and went under the water. To my relief, he came back up almost immediately. Then he did it again and stayed under longer. A third time, and longer still.

This was starting to scare me, so I swam back and pulled him out of the pool. We had a table with a sun umbrella spouting from its center surrounded by four chairs. I anchored him in the one where I had persuaded him to leave his phone.

"Stay here while I make some lunch."

I ran to the kitchen and threw together some sandwiches while constantly watching Troy through the window. He ate without any coaxing, persuading, or major disasters. I considered that a victory.

I thought we could work on our tans a while under this beautiful blue and cloudless sky. I quickly applied sunscreen. Troy watched. I was going to settle him onto one of the chaises before lying back myself, then thought that it wouldn't look good if I let this helpless kid get a miserable sunburn and be blistering when his father picked him up.

I put a glop of sunscreen in the palm of my hand and started with his arms. Once those were covered, I did his muscular back, sliding my hand over the hard contours. Then his chest. It felt so different from Rodger's flabby body--so masculine and vital. Finally his legs. Calves. Thighs. Inner thighs.

I thought about how this must look: a young boy getting his whole body rubbed by a practically-naked older woman. Then it struck me:

"Naked!" I said way too loudly.

I stood up and looked into Troy's eyes. "That's what it was, wasn't it? I was naked when you got your erection. Then, when I had my robe on, I had no effect!"

Something about my deduction thrilled me. Not that my body could excite a male, but that it could excite THIS male. That somehow he had some basic response working that broke through the haze of his disability.

Sunbathing was overâ€"before it even started. "Come on," I said and pulled him by the hand all the way to his bedroom. I roughly pulled his swimming trunks down and had him step out of them. He was naked and immobile, staring at me only if I crossed his line of sight.

"Be right back," I told him.

When I returned to his room, wearing my robe, he hadn't moved. I looked at his penis. It was hanging there shrouded by that foreskin.

I stood directly in front of him, about three feet away."Hi, Troy!" I said with my friendliest voice. With that, I untied my sash, opened my robe, and shrugged it to the floor.

I was completely naked.

I watched his face. Nothing. But, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed movement. Just like before, Troy's penis slowly grew--and grew, and grew--until it was again at its raging and throbbing peak.

"Oh ... my ... God!" I whispered. It seemed even bigger than before. And, now I knew I was definitely the cause.

I knelt down in front of him, armed with the tape measure from my robe's pocket.

"Troy, I'm just going to see how big this is." I looked up, but the only eye contact he was making was with his phone.

He, unlike me who was quite hirsute, had sparse pubic hair. I lightly pressed the end of the tape at the base of his instrument and pulled it taught.

"Nine and a quarter inches?" I couldn't believe it. I took the measurement again. Same result. I then circled the shaft with the soft and flexible tape.

"I mean--REALLY!" I said to no one in particular. "Seven and a half inches? I don't have to be a geometry student to know that means your penis is over two inches thick. That's thicker than my wrist."

Experiment over. I should have stood up now that my curiosity had been satisfied. But, that was the ONLY thing that had been satisfied. I knelt there for maybe thirty seconds, staring at the business end of the biggest penis I had ever seen. It didn't have that drop of precum like last time.

Some perverse part of me wanted to see if he would lubricate for me. After years of Rodger's lack of desire and attention, I wanted to know if I could still excite a male, even if that male didn't even know it was me.

I reached up with my right hand and lightly gripped the base of Troy's shaft. I pulled toward me, and then slowly back away. On the second pull forward, a stream of clear, viscous liquid issued as an elongating drop that kept stretching toward the floor.

I was hypnotized. So much so that I didn't react quickly enough when Troy took a step forward. The wet tip of his cock brushed over my lips.

I turned my head. "Troy, no!" He thrust slowly, painting my cheek this time. "Troy, no!" I said again, looking up at him. But he eased forward pressing the oozing hole against my lips.

There was an overpowering aroma of maleness that I almost had forgotten. I should have jumped away, jumped up, and ended this.

Instead, I parted my lips and slid my tongue forward, coating it with Troy's juices. I pulled my tongue back into my mouth, tasting his animal vitality. I was drunk, drunk with the sensuality of the moment.

I tugged twice more with my hand, opened my mouth, started to lean forward--

"JEAN?" my sister's voice called from downstairs.

I had forgotten she was going to visit today.

I jumped to my feet and called, "Be down in a second."

To my relief, she said, "I'm going to get something to eat in the kitchen."

That's when Troy decided to hug me ... yet again. But, this time we were both naked.

How would I ever explain this: "You see, I wanted to verify that Troy's penis was big, so I took the measurement and then licked it too. Then, naked, we hugged!