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It was September, and a tradition in our company that a social gathering for the employees was held in the fall of each year. Our office was a regional center for an insurance company, and we had about forty employees. Most of us knew each other, and I really didn’t socialize with my fellow workers much outside of office hours.
My name is Joe – really, Joseph Carnavo. I’m twenty four, and been with the company for two years. I was never much of a extrovert, and my social life after college has really been pretty limited. I live alone in my own apartment, and I suppose people think of me as a bit of a nerd – in the last couple of years I’ve rarely dated, and girls don’t tend to call me. I’m a bit smallish, and surely no athlete – nothing anybody would call a “hunk”. My time is spent on my computers, a few male friends, and my bicycle club, which I joined a few weeks ago to go some outdoor activity. Most of the group are either older people or married couples, though.
In our office we have more women than men, though most of the women are either married or at least matched up with somebody. There’s one girl, Diane, who’s a real class act, and I suppose I might be attracted to her – she doesn’t seem to be attached, but she’s popular and has a rugged social life. I suppose that the real reason I never approached her is that I’m just afraid she wouldn’t be interested in me. I don’t have that much to offer. There’s another unattached girl, and that’s Susan. She’s maybe a little older than me, and I didn’t think she ever went out with anyone. She’s in a wheelchair, and can’t walk at all. She’s really not bad looking; but she’s no beauty, either; and she has this one leg that’s a bit deformed. I suppose that’s why she can’t walk. I never asked. She’s friendly enough, but I didn’t think she had much social life. How could she?
The manager, that’s a Mr. Evans, told us this year he planned a Saturday evening party for us in a special place – about fifty miles away. It seems he had a friend, or an old client, or someone, who had this big house out in the country, on the river bank. It sounded like a really classy place. Anyway, he was going away on a vacation in Europe or somewhere, and had offered to let us have the party in his place, and Mr. Evans took him up on it. So now the boss has arranged a catered dinner, with waiters and maids, and an open bar (though he warned us to go easy on the drinks if we’re driving home), and a band with some singers. He told us just a couple of weeks ahead, and really wanted all of us to come.
Well, last year I didn’t come. I didn’t have anyone to come with, and it seemed I would be just a kind of an extra- just an embarrassment to everyone else. Two years ago I did attend, and it really wasn’t bad. So now I had to decide if I would go.
I mentioned it to my friend Bob, who had the next cubicle. “Oh, come on, Joe – liven up a bit. You’ll have a good time. Most of us will be there, and you won’t be bored!”
“Yeah – most of us. Anybody you think is not coming, besides me, if I don’t get there. I mean, will I stand out later because everyone knew I didn’t show up?”
“Oh, come off it, Joe. There may be a couple of people who won’t show up – maybe because they have other engagements. On somebody like Susan, who probably never goes anywhere, anyhow. Be there – you’ll be sorry if you don’t!”
I thought about it. Then, what started making my mind itch a little was what he said about Susan. Now, there’s a thought. Nobody probably asked Susan to go anywhere. If I did ask her, she’d probably refuse, anyway; but wouldn’t it look great if some guy invited that poor girl? She probably would have a hard time getting there anyway – I don’t think she drives, and she gets to work by riding with a woman friend who works in another office.
The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. So what if Susan rejected me? I didn’t really expect her to say yes, but it would make me look like a good guy if I did ask her.
So I gave it a try. I went over to her desk, when no one else was near. “Susan”, I asked, “you know we have the office party coming up next Saturday – at that classy place Evans has been talking about. I’m thinking about going, and, well, right now I don’t have anyone going with me, and I just wondered if you might like to–”
I stammered a bit. I didn’t want it to sound fake. It wasn’t, after all, the best worded invitation to a date. I suppose it even sounded like she was about the last choice. Well, she was the only choice, for me. I was really afraid to ask anyone else.
Susan stopped her work and sat up straight. She looked me straight in the eye, staring in what I took as unbelief. “You are asking me to go with you?” she said, obviously surprised.
“Of course, if you already have a date, or something else to do–” I probably didn’t sound too organized.
“Oh, no! Not at all. Joe, I’d love to go with you! I’m just surprised you asked me!”
It seemed I had a date for the party. I did get organized enough to check illegal bahis with her later about where I should pick her up, and how I could manage her wheelchair. She wasn’t worried at all, assured me she could get from the chair into my car, with just a bit of help from me; and that we could put her “wheels”, as she called it, in the trunk.
I figured it would an adventure. I didn’t really see her as anything particularly sexy, but she would be female companionship, and really all that I was sure I could get. I did feel good about asking her.
Saturday came. I was to pick her up at five o’clock, as the party was set for seven and we had a long drive. The affair was kind of formal, at least not casual, so I dressed in a good suit. I did have sense enough to get her some flowers, and I went to get her. I was, in fact, a bit early.
I learned she lived with a female roommate in a small apartment. I arrived, and knocked on the door, expecting to wait a bit. She was ready, and did she ever look different from the way she was in the office!
She had on this long white dress, and a matching jacket. Her hair was fixed up in a way I had never seen it before, and it looked really nice. Her messed up leg was covered by the long skirt of her dress, and to look at her you wouldn’t know it was anything but normal. She was wearing a bit of make-up, more than I had noticed in the office, and she had the biggest smile I ever saw on her.
“Joe, I want you to meet Frankie, my roommate!” Frankie, standing behind Susan, offered her hand. Quickly, Susan started wheeling herself toward the door. “Now, it’s quite a ride, so let’s go before you decide to trade me in for Frankie!” she joked.
She was turning out to be a more attractive companion than I had anticipated. She needed little help, and took little. We went down the lift, and to my car, Susan wheeling herself with no help from me. We got to the car, where I opened the door. She managed to slide herself into the front seat, asking me only to hold the door for her and steady her by one arm. Once inside, she instructed me on how to fold up her wheelchair, which I did and then stowed it in the trunk.
We were off. She was the most attractive date I’d had in a long time, which really isn’t saying much for me, but I was glad I had asked her. She looked quite attractive, and was turning out to be interesting to talk to, as we went on the drive.
By the time we arrived at the party site, I felt I knew her a lot better. She was turning out to be a lot more fun than I had thought. With just a little help, she got into her chair and then we went up to the house.
Inside, we immediately joined the party, as a number of the people had already arrived. Many of the employees came with a spouse or significant other, so the number included a lot of people I hadn’t met. I stayed at first with Susan, but it became apparent that she could manage quite well without me, so at times I strayed, trying to circulate a bit, or at least look like I was socializing.
The party included an open bar and a buffet. Susan declined any of the hard stuff, so I got her a large soft drink. As for myself, I needed to avoid alcohol because I was driving and I had a special concern this night for Susan – I didn’t want her to think I was irresponsible.
Every time I got back to Susan, someone had given her a soft drink, or fruit juice, or something to munch on. She seemed to be mixing in well – much better than I was.
I explored the place a bit. The party was mostly in a large room on the ground floor, but the house was a split level with several rooms up a few steps, and some of the party was spilling over into that area. On the higher level was a room people were obviously using to store coats and things, and the bathrooms were there, too. There was an upstairs, but most of that was closed off, although a sign indicated there were two more bathrooms up there the guests were free to use.
By eight, there were close to a hundred guests there, and the place was jumping. The band was playing, the food kept coming on, and the catering staff kept plying the guests with drinks. Everybody seemed to be having a good time. Even I was, as Bob had told me. I liked to look around the house, and I did so in the company of one of the women guests. She pointed out things to me I might have missed, like the art work on which she seemed to be a bit of an authority. As we passed the stairs, I noted several people going up. “Is there anything up there to see?” I asked her.
“No, not really. Mostly bedrooms, and they’re closed off. People are just going up to use the bathrooms. There’s a line for the ones down here!” she pointed to the middle level.
Susan continued to get around, partly on her own, partly with me. She seemed to be having a great time. Bob approached me, “Aren’t you glad you asked her? She’s looking a lot brighter her than she ever does behind that desk!” I had to agree, and I was a bit proud of myself.
Couples were dancing, and everyone was illegal bahis siteleri eating and drinking. Mr. Evans made a short speech of welcome, and a couple of presentations; but that was all the real business that intruded. We were just having a good time.
At one point I noted it was nine thirty. I looked at Susan. “Can I get you another drink? Will it be juice or soda?”
She smiled a bit, but seemed a little reserved, at least more than she had been. “I’m loving it, Joe, but, no, no more drinks just now. And, uh, we might need to be going soon. It’s a long way!”
“No more for us than the others! it’s not late, yet, Susan. It’s just getting going!”
She smiled back, though she seemed a little less enthusiastic than she had been. We talked for a bit, and then I left her as some other friends came to speak with her.
Just a bit after ten, Susan approached me. “Joe, I really think I need to be going. It’s late, at least for me. I don’t want to spoil your fun, but, well, please?” I didn’t quite understand her change in attitude. A while ago she was going great, joining in the fun. Now she wanted to leave.
“Any special reason? Your bedtime?”
“No, Joe. I just need to. I hate to hurry you, but, I’d like to leave as soon as you can be ready!”
She still seemed happy, but for some reason, anxious to leave. Well, I was in no hurry. I agreed to take her, but needed to say a few farewells. After a bit, we headed for the door and then the car.
As before, she got in the car with only a little help. “Thanks,” she said, “for humoring me. I know you wanted to stay, but I have to be going, now. Thanks for understanding!” She was nice, but more reserved than she had been before. She didn’t talk much, and seemed preoccupied.
We drove away, through the dark countryside. I tried to make conversation, but she said little.
Finally I asked her, “Susan, is something wrong? Did I do something I shouldn’t have? You don’t seem too happy, and you were having a good time?”
She hesitated, as though in thought, and replied, “Maybe. No. Not you, you were wonderful. You did everything I could have wanted. I’m so glad you asked me, and I had a wonderful evening!”
There was something she wasn’t telling me.
We drove on. It was a country road, with wooded areas on each side. Susan was silent. Then, suddenly, she spoke.
“Joe, I’ve got to ask you to stop. Can you pull off the road a bit, maybe where that tree is? Please!”
There was an urgency in her voice. She was obviously distressed.
“What’s wrong, Susan. Are you sick? Eat too much, maybe?”
“I’m not sick. The food was fine. But I hurt something awful, and I have to do something about it. I thought I could get home, but I’ll never make it!”
“You hurt? Did someone do something to you?”
She looked at me directly, tears in her eyes.
“My – my belly hurts something awful! Not the food, but all those drinks! I wouldn’t have drunk so much, but I just didn’t realize. I hate asking this, I really do, but– “
I hadn’t yet figured it out. Then, her voice shaking with embarrassment, she told me bluntly.
“I need to go to the bathroom something awful! At the house, the only bathrooms were up the steps. I couldn’t get up the steps in my wheels, so I couldn’t go! I thought someone- some of the women- might offer to help, but no one did. I just couldn’t bear the thought of asking a man! I haven’t been able to – to ” she forced the word, “to pee since you picked me up! It isn’t your fault, I didn’t want to ask a man to help, but now I need you to help me. Please, I’m about to burst!”
I heard her story. I hate to admit it, but the idea that I was alone with a girl with a bursting bladder was an immense and immediate turn on for me. I could feel my own bodily response, and now I feared she might become aware of it, too.
She opened the car door. “Help me, please, Joe. And, please, don’t ever, ever, tell anyone about this!”
“Shall I get your wheels?” I asked, a bit clumsily.
“No – won’t help.” She was sliding herself from the car, holding onto the top of the open door.
“I don’t want to mess up my dress, or your car; but, I need to get to something I can hang from – there!” She pointed to a tree perhaps five feet from the car. “Help me reach that limb” she pleaded, reaching for a low branch.
I grabbed her under arms and almost dragged her as she let go of the car door and reached for the limb. She grasped it, and stood erect, supporting herself with both hands gripping the limb, now about shoulder high to her.
It was the first time, I reflected, that I had seen her erect. She couldn’t stand on her own, but now she was holding herself up, hanging onto a tree.
“I can’t squat”, she admonished me, but I have to get you to help with my clothes– Oh, I hate to ask, this is awful, but it hurts – it hurts – will you do it for me, please?”
I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I was pretty stupid about things like this. She couldn’t canlı bahis siteleri sit, for sure, and that’s what girls usually did, as far as I knew. I was about to get a lesson.
“Now, can you hold up my skirt? Just gather it up and hold it high!” I took the white skirt of her dress and tried to lift it up. It wasn’t that easy, because it bound on her body as I tried to lift it. I tried to work it up. Her legs came into view; in the moonlight; the deformed one, and its perfect mate. She seemed to have stockings on.
“Here, put the edge of the skirt in my hand, and I’ll try to hold it. I need you to take off my shoes and my pantyhose!”
I couldn’t believe my ears. She was holding onto the hem of her skirt, holding it high, as I slipped off her shoes and set them aside. Then, I reached up under her skirt and started peeling down her pantyhose from the top. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was glad I was bending over, because I could feel my own rigid erection and if I stood up I knew it would make my pants stick out like a tent peg, and she would see it, too..
I worked her underwear down. Her dark bush came into view, my face only inches away. I could smell the aroma of her genitals. To say I was aroused would have been a gross understatement.
Finally I got the underwear off, and her entire lower body was exposed in front of me, in the pale moonlight. It dawned on me that if a car came by and shone its headlights on us, they would illuminate a real performance. I hoped it wouldn’t happen.
“Is that all?” I asked, rather hoping that there might be more.
“Just stand back, and watch that nothing gets wet!” she answered. I stood, transfixed, in front of her, just plain staring. My erection was obvious, and I tried to adjust it to make it less so.
Then her stream started. She shot out a torrent, streaming downward and spraying about just a bit. I had never seen a woman urinate up close, before, and I was fascinated. It was beautiful to me, and one of the most arousing sights I had ever observed.
She looked at me as her stream poured out. “Sorry to make you do this! I had to do it in front of you, there was just no other way. Ah, that feels so good! You don’t know how painful it was!”
The stream just kept pouring. I couldn’t guess how much she had in her, but her bladder must have been stretched to its limit. It was running across the ground to a place where it was collecting into a big puddle. Finally the stream began to diminish, and then it stopped. “All through?” I asked her.
“Just wait a minute – let me make sure!” she answered. I thought maybe she was pushing just a bit, or whatever girls do to get the last drops out.
Her legs were splattered, but her skirt was dry. I wondered if she needed to wipe up. “I have some tissues in the car,” I offered, “Maybe you’d like me to dry you off?”
“Yes, thanks.” she answered, in a more relaxed tone. I stepped to the car and drew several tissues from the box. Returning to my place in front of her, I began to wipe the drops from her legs and feet where they had been splattered. Having cleaned her legs, I started to move away, when she stopped me, “You didn’t get the important part – where it came out! Or, would you rather not?”
Such an invitation I had never had before. I took a fresh tissue and carefully wiped her labia and pubic hair, getting a good look at her privates in the process. “Joe”, she said softly, “I won’t mind if you do that again!” I did – twice, to be sure.
Finally, it was over. I started to look over her pantyhose, when she admonished me, “you can leave off the underwear. Just slip my shoes back on, please!” I did, and she lowered the skirt, rather slowly, as though she wanted to let me keep looking for a bit.
“Thanks. You were good about that! I didn’t know what I was going to do -I was about to start leaking!”
I helped her back to the car. She slid into the front seat, leaving the door still open.
“You know”, she began, with a bit of mischief in her voice, “I didn’t think I could do that in front of a man, but you made it easy. Did you mind very much?”
“Not at all. It was a privilege!” Understatement! I could see her eyes focusing on the bulge in my pants.
“Do you need to do the same? It’s still a ways back!” she asked, rather unexpectedly.
I perceived she was ready for a return favor, although I wasn’t sure. “Maybe. Should I – here?” I asked, standing almost beside her.
“Why not? You got a close look at me! I wouldn’t mind!”
That was pretty clear. I unfastened my pants, and drew out my erect member, trying to point it downward. Now it was Susan who was staring. I tried to release, but with my erection and all, it took a while. Finally I produced a stream, although nothing like the one she had managed.
She watched intently until I was through. Then I zipped up, and got back in the car.
As we drove away, she kept looking at me. “You won’t tell, will you? I’d be so humiliated!”
“Not a chance”, I offered. “Besides, you might tell on me!”
I got her home, and to her door. Just before opening the door, she turned her face up to me. I bent over and kissed her gently. “Thanks for a wonderful evening”, I told her. “And you, too”, she replied.
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