Helping Out
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2017 by Thinking Horndog

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Lucille was 41, filling her empty nest by volunteering to cater to the needs of young people with disabilities. Kanye was young, male, blind - and black. It was a simple 90 day engagement, helping a blind person deal with those things that really needed sight, somethng a lot easier than some clients she'd had to deal with - or was it? Could she cater to ALL of Kanye's needs? How far could she go before she betrayed the trust the agency placed in her?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Heterosexual   Fiction   Interracial   Black Male   White Female   First   Masturbation   Oral Sex   BBW  

“This is Kanye,” Walter Mattingly announced. “We’ll be asking for you to take him on for ninety days, as usual.”

“Hello.” The black teen stuck out his hand, smiling. Lucille noticed that he wasn’t holding her eyes, though -- in fact...

“Kanye was accidentally blinded at age six,” Walter explained.

Lucille caught up and moved her hand to accept the one waving a bit in front of her. “My name is Lucille.”

‘Small. Soft.’ Lucille’s hand was smaller than the blob in front of Kanye led him to expect. Kanye couldn’t see much -- more a case of discerning light and dark. She was short, too, he decided. Probably fat. Well, who cared? “Pleased to meet you.” He shook the hand, gently, smiling.

‘He’s black. Stupid people will make comments.’ But then, Lucille’s usual clients excited comments, too -- the ones with Down’s Syndrome and other disabilities. That Kanye’s issue wasn’t immediately visible would be a somewhat refreshing change of pace...

Lucille was forty-one. Married at eighteen, and divorced at thirty, her sexual awakening didn’t really occur until those desperate times when she tried to stave off divorce by being pliant and cooperative, despite the two children she’d had with her ex, Roger. And that, well, hadn’t lasted. Lucille had given up fairly quickly after the divorce -- barflies just weren’t going to cut it. She threw herself into child raising -- but the kids were gone, so three years back, she’d volunteered at an agency that gave temporary assistance to the disadvantaged -- or retarded, or whatever the current socially acceptable term was. It allowed her to give of herself and gave her something to do besides staring at the walls. The agency placed young adults with her for a period of ninety days, then moved them elsewhere so she could get a break from the stress of dealing with people who needed that unusually high level of care. A volunteer could continue with a client for a longer period – and many did -- but Lucille hadn’t found one that she could contemplate a long-term engagement with yet -- they tended to depress her. The stipend and expense reimbursements she got for being a caretaker were nice, though, supplementing her meager income, so she kept coming back.

Banishing her thought process, Lucille replied, “Likewise, I’m sure!” She turned to Walter. “What does Kanye need?”

“Less than usual – and more, perhaps,” Walter replied. “Transport. He’s enrolled in Wentworth College’s special needs program. Help getting around – not so much physical as guidance. Room and board. Meals. Some assistance with cleaning and such.” Walter grinned a bit. “Occasional assistance with his homework.”

“That seems simple enough,” Lucille mused. “Can you think of anything else, Kanye?”

“I try to carry the ball,” Kanye replied. “Just a little assistance once in a while is usually enough. I’ve been doing this a while.”

“All right. I have a room. I have a private bath, so you can have the main one. Will you need a telephone or something?”

“I have a cell. I’ll need some internet access, and to be able to set up my own equipment – web pages don’t do it for me. I listen to music – but I’m not loud about it. My hearing is ... acute.”

“I see. Where are your things?”

“They’re down at the loading dock,” Walter explained. “If you’ll bring your minivan around back, I think it will all fit.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you there.” Lucille set off, thinking, ‘At least he’s not hard to look at. He seems intelligent... ‘ She shied away from finishing a thought that included ‘drooling.’

Kanye had a few adaptive devices that took up some space, but very little in the way of personal effects, it seemed. When Lucille commented on it as they drove to Lucille’s small apartment building, Kanye said, “I’ve been in foster homes since I was fifteen. You learn to travel light. There are maggots who steal from people who CAN see...”

“What can you see?” Lucille asked.

“Not a lot. Blobs. Light from dark. If it is right in front of my face and three inches high, I might make out a letter or two. Thank God for thirty-three inch monitors and magnification software, although nowadays I usually use an adapted VR device and my phone.”

“You type?”

“Yes. I had to learn.”

“Touch.”

Kanye chuckled. “Obviously.”

“I’m not going to have to worry about you catching me coming out of the shower naked, I guess.”

Kanye sighed. “No. For me to be able to recognize you, we would have to go nearly nose to nose.”

‘Why did I even say that?’ Lucille wondered. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No. Girls my age pity me and are sympathetic, but they don’t want to take care of a guy. They want a guy to take care of them.”

“Mmmm, yes, I can see that. The motherhood instinct usually limits itself to young children, until you’ve had a set grow up.”

“Do you have children?”

“Yes. One is in college and the other has her own family.”

“Can I ask?”

“What?”

“How old are you?”

“I’m ... forty-one.” Why was she so reticent? ‘Habit,’ she decided. “Since we’re busy asking embarrassing questions, how did it happen?”

Kanye shrugged. “We were poor. We didn’t have squirt guns, but there were squirt bottles around. My big brother got ahold of one that had something in it that wasn’t water. I don’t think we’ll ever know what it was – the babysitter hid it when it became apparent that something bad had happened while she was supposed to be watching us. I think she was having sex with her boyfriend or something – at least, that’s what went around. I was too young to really know. By the time Momma got home from work and was convinced that there was a problem, the damage was done.” He shrugged. “Things actually got better after I was blinded, because there was money and there were relief agencies. Everybody else in the family benefited – and I did, too, but I was the one paying.”

“What happened when you were fifteen?”

“They caught Momma doing some fraudulent shit with my disability money. She went to jail and we went into foster care.”

Life’s been hard for you,” Lucille said sympathetically.

Kanye shrugged. “You learn to deal with it.” It was time for him to go on the offensive. “Where’s your husband?”

“Gone. It’s been a while.”

“What happened?”

“I didn’t know how good I had it, I guess. I took some things for granted and I wasn’t providing him things he wanted and needed, so he found a woman who made him a better offer.”

“So things haven’t been any picnic for you, either.”

“No, not really.”

“Why do you do this?”

Lucille smiled – and he could hear it in her voice. “I’ve been through the child-raising wringer and can raise an adult, I guess. It keeps me busy and focused.”

“You’re lonely.”

“Not particularly,” Lucille lied. It lay there like a dead thing, though, killing the conversation, because Kanye knew better.

The afternoon was taken up with settling Kanye in, getting his equipment working and making him familiar with his surroundings, which included several sweeps of the house so that he could memorize where everything was. He got good at it fairly quickly, which surprised Lucille. Dinner went well. As bedtime approached, Lucille asked, “Do you bathe or shower? Will you need help?”

“I shower, usually. I shave with an electric, when I have to. I try not to, actually. I think what I would need there mostly would be for you to be alert to the whole thing in case something happens.”

Lucille nodded, then realized he didn’t see it. “That makes sense. I’ve done that. Occasionally, I’ve had to do more than that...”

‘Is she coming on to me?’ Kanye wondered.

But Lucille went blithely on with, “Some Down’s clients are just ... inept...” Unknown to Kanye, Lucille’s thoughts drifted to the subject of sex, but from a different direction. Young Randolph, one of her clients, had been a wild animal, slave to his burgeoning sexuality. He attacked her during his first bath, alienating her – and the only reason he lasted three days was because Lucille thought that maybe she could make him understand that he couldn’t initiate sex acts with every woman he came into contact with. But it wasn’t going to happen, so she opted out ... There was a scandal involving Randolph and the woman who finally DID take him in for more than a day or two, and Randolph ended up institutionalized because he was uncontrollable. Lucille wondered sometimes what his institutional keepers did to slake his drives...

“I should be okay,” Kanye declared, “I can find the bathroom.”

“Okay. Let me know...”

“Sure.”

The evening went without incident. Kanye went off to bed and Lucille did, too – and only when the receiver for the baby monitor in her bedroom reminded her did she remember it. The camera was mounted in one corner of the room, where the curious couldn’t get at it. Kanye, being unable to see it, wasn’t even going to know it was there... ‘I’ll say something to him about it tomorrow,’ she decided, ‘in case he has privacy concerns.

... But she didn’t.

It was a week before anything happened of any significance. Kanye and Lucille settled in comfortably. Kanye needed little help – usually just assistance in finding things he couldn’t see. He tended to remember, too, once he was shown something. Much of what Lucille had to do consisted of pickup and meals – and Lucille found that she enjoyed Kanye’s choices in music, in general, not that he disturbed her with them.

Thursday was laundry day. Lucille dropped Kanye at the college extension campus and went home to gather clothing and strip beds. That’s when she found the stains...

Kanye’s sheets were stained. It wasn’t urine – she could tell immediately. ‘Maybe he has some kind of health condition – an infection or something,’ she mused. Then she found the T-shirt under the bed. It was crusty, and it smelled ... She brought it to her nose and took a big sniff – and her pussy clenched, releasing a wash of lubricant! ‘Omigod! Cum!’ It had been some time since she’d been exposed to the stuff, but, yes, it was just like the wet spot that sex tended to generate on the sheets, back when she was active... ‘Do I talk to him about this? No. He’s ... handling it ... in privacy. I shouldn’t embarrass him.’ She gathered the clothing and linens up and took them to the laundry room. Everything went into the wash – except that T-shirt. Somehow, she couldn’t let go of it! Things were a blur until she found herself in her bedroom, the T-shirt parked under her nose while she dug in the bedside drawer for her favorite jelly vibrator. She shoved down her shorts and panties, arranged herself on her back on the bed, and let her mind wander while inhaling that Heavenly scent...

Unlike a normal masturbation session, where she cudgeled her brain for a leap of imagination while feeling the cool jelly’s buzz all to clearly, she was humping herself to drive the vibrator deep into her hungry, throbbing cunt, again and again, in mere seconds, while screaming into that crusty T-shirt! Gasps caused by her frenzy merely caused her to inhale more of the intoxicating aroma, extending the duration of peaks the likes of which she hadn’t had in a decade – peaks that came easily and quickly, instead of after her usual hard fight to escape the reality of her self-abuse. Only when exhaustion brought her unconsciousness did she relax.

The nap lasted three hours. Lucille awakened and dragged herself upright, groggy. The effects on her of the smell of Kanye’s semen deposits was scary! She tossed the T-shirt away, fearing that she might succumb a second time. Then she got up and, holding it at arm’s length between her thumb and forefinger while holding her nose with her other hand, she marched down to the laundry and put the shirt in the washer. That fixed that! Temptation washed away in a wash of suds.

Kanye noticed when she brought him home. “New sheets?” he asked, feeling the bed.

“Laundry day.” Lucille hesitated, but said nothing further, and swept out. Kanye went and reached under the bed – and yes, the T-shirt was gone. Had she noticed? ‘Probably not... ‘

Kanye had been masturbating regularly since he was thirteen. It usually hadn’t been an issue – he was usually required to collect his own laundry and bed linens in the various foster homes or institutions he’d been in, so nobody else was likely to go through the things he brought to the laundry already bundled and discover the messes he made. The few times that someone had noticed the sheets, it had been people who were used to the idea of nocturnal emissions. It had never been a problem – but Lucille had caught him unawares with her laundry sweep. ‘I’ll be more careful next time,’ Kanye promised himself.

Kanye was vigilant the next week, and Lucille discovered him headed for the laundry room with his balled up laundry – which upset her, because despite good intentions, the memory of that masturbation session had set up a craving. She managed to sort things, but he was present and there was no way for her to ferret away that week’s semen-stained T-shirt.

It had become important to her, so after she took him off to his classes the next day, she hunted down his replacement cum rag. Given that it only had one night’s worth of deposits on it, it wasn’t particularly redolent, but Lucille counted that as a good thing, given the way she had overdosed the first time. Still, it helped her to reach a plateau that mere imagination hadn’t provided an adequate assist to get to, Lucille’s memories of her sexual encounters having faded quite a bit. More disturbing, however, was the fact that with the smell came a picture of the source of the emanations ... The idea of having a sexual liaison with Kanye was seductively attractive, despite the object lesson provided by the scandal involving young Randolph and his caregiver. The fact that it was forbidden on more than one level made the whole idea titillating and hard to put away.

Kanye was home the whole weekend, so Lucille couldn’t borrow his cum rag until Monday – at which point it had collected several deposits. Lucille nearly overdosed again as a result, and she forgot to return the shirt to its location under Kanye’s bed! This caused Kanye some consternation on Monday night...

Lucille had forgotten all about the baby monitor – it didn’t appear that she would need it with Kanye – but lying in bed she heard the sounds of him thumping and banging in the next room, so she sat up and turned it on. The sounds had her wondering what was going on, so she went into the living room and settled at her desk, turning on her laptop. Connecting to the webcam, she discovered Kanye half under the bed, mumbling to himself. ‘Oh, Lord! I forgot to put the shirt back!’

Kanye was muttering, “It HAS to be here!” and making wide sweeps under the bed with his hands.

‘He’s much too organized for me to pretend I don’t know anything,’ Lucille mused, so she threw on a housecoat, making a wry face when she remembered that there was no way he was going to see her, but carrying on, anyway, and hurried to Kanye’s room.

“Kanye, Dear, what’s the problem?” she asked, throwing open the door.

“I seem to have lost a shirt.” An embarrassed blush added a pinkish hue to his dusky features.

“Oh? Oh. Yes, Dear. I found it on the floor. It seemed to be dirty, so I threw it in the laundry hamper.”

“Oh? Thanks. I was going to do that myself,” Kanye lied.

“That’s fine. Sorry I caused you to be disturbed. I’ll let you know if I do something like that again.”

“Thank you.” Kanye considered asking her not to enter his room, but it would only cause her suspicion, he figured.

“Well, good night...”

“Good night.”

Lucille left Kanye climbing back into bed – but as soon as she was gone, he went and collected the T-shirt he’d worn that day and took IT to bed, wondering how often Lucille was going to patrol his room looking for things that were out of place.

Lucille returned to the living room, planning to shut down her laptop, which was still on, the webcam still delivering pictures of Kanye’s room. She reached out to turn it off, but just as she got to her desk, Kanye stood beside the bed and stepped out of his underwear! Lucille let out a soft gasp and settled into her task chair to watch. Kanye’s penis, flaccid, seemed to be larger than her ex-husband’s had been erect! Kanye stood listening for a moment, then began jacking himself, sliding his foreskin up and down the length of his chocolate cock. He stood there for a moment doing that, then carefully turned down his bed and climbed into it. Then he resumed jacking his cock.

Lucille watched, fascinated. It got bigger, and the head swelled until it resembled a small plum. His cock’s length and girth grew until his foreskin was stretched over the shaft, basically disappearing. Kanye began to grunt and gasp, his legs kicking slowly as the pleasure grew. Kanye really had nothing in the way of a sex act to remember other than this, and no good concept of what one might be to fire his imagination – which was a somewhat similar situation to Lucille’s, where the memories were dim, but went even further -- but this felt good ... It was an end in itself, since he had nothing better to compare it to.

Lucille couldn’t tear her eyes away from the laptop screen! Her housecoat seemed to open on its own, and the hem of her nightgown shifted itself up soon after to make way for her fingers as they worked their way under the waistband of her no-nonsense panties, over the fur covering her pubic mound and on to the rigid bump of her already erect clitoris and the volcano beyond ... Lucille slouched in her task chair with her legs spread, her feet propped on the desktop, balanced somewhat precariously while both hands teased her quivering clit and pulsing vaginal opening, her eyes feasting on that pillar of flesh that rose majestically from Kanye’s crotch, the swollen, pinkish cap at its apex alternating partial coverage and total exposure as his hands slid his foreskin smoothly up and down the shaft. It was beautiful – and it evoked an intense hunger in her. If she’d been standing, her feet would have led her to Kanye’s room automatically, but her womanhood demanded service, leaving her glued to the task chair with that image before her eyes.

Kanye climbed the mountain of sexual stimulation as he had so many times before. The route was familiar, as were the signposts. His legs began to kick; he was unable to control them and didn’t bother to try. The gentle flick of his fingers across his sensitive scrotum added a level to his arousal. He’d long since learned the value of silence while pleasuring himself, so the only sounds he made were pants and soft gasps. He maintained a measured pace, having learned long since that speed added nothing and could interfere with his pleasure. His concentration on his task – generating those physical sensations – was total. He moved smoothly, ever upward, toward his culmination.

Lucille was caught up in a frenzy! Her pussy had gulped down two fingers and was begging for a third while her clitoris sparked and twinkled, generating bright flashes of pleasure. A whirlwind had her and it would only release her when the apparition on her laptop screen allowed it...

Kanye moved into his final ascent. The peak was in sight – even his blind eyes could see it. The urgency came upon him – and with it, that last-minute imperative to hold back the flood while the intensity built...

“UUUUuuuuUUUUUUUuuuuuhhhh!!” Kanye locked up, his body arching itself on the bed, then the locks released and the hammer fell, igniting his prostate, causing it to draw long belts of ammunition from his balls and fire it into the air above him! Thick jets of seed arced up three feet into the air before falling to splash onto Kanye’s chest and belly, once, twice, three times, before the backpressure trailed off and the gushes of seed from his cock took lower, less energetic trajectories and finally ended as a dribble.

“OOOOoooooOOOhhhhh!” Lucille’s eyes bulged as they beheld that first mighty eruption of Kanye’s seed. The sight triggered an explosion, causing Lucille to go rigid, shaking like a leaf, her pussy rippling around three buried fingers, nearly falling from her chair as she lost control of her body to the shockwaves of pleasure washing over her. Only the fact that her lungs were so constricted by the tension kept her from screaming out her release! The task chair banged, the wheels on the front coming up and nearly toppling it as her legs straightened. She hung there, twitching and jerking, for long seconds, riding the wave of a massive climax!

Kanye settled back, savoring the intense sensations as he milked the last of the seed dispensed in that ejaculation from his cock. As his mind replayed the moment of his culmination, he wondered, ‘Did I hear something?’ Lazy wiping of his chest and abdomen took on purpose as resolution firmed. “Something in the living room...”

Lucille slowly relaxed, settling back into the chair, her body wasted by the tension it had generated. Eyes dulled by the drug of pleasure returned to the laptop screen – and widened! Kanye was getting into his underwear! “Oh, Lord!” Lucille lurched up, staggering unsteadily to her feet. ‘He can’t find me here!’ shot through her mind; she’d totally forgotten that he couldn’t SEE her. She closed the laptop and rushed from the room, intent upon escape before he arrived to discover her voyeurism!

Kanye, having thrown on a pair of shorts, padded into the room. ‘What’s that smell?’ There was this ... aroma ... in the air. Something tantalizing. Kanye didn’t think he’d ever smelled anything like it before. There were soft sounds from the direction of Lucille’s room. Kanye padded down the hallway to her door. It was closed. Rapping on it, he said, “Lucille? Are you all right? I heard a bang...”

Lucille gave a little shriek, then got control of herself. “I kicked the chair,” she said in a voice muffled by having caught her breath. “I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Shrugging, Kanye headed back to his bedroom.

“Omigod,” Lucille gasped. “Omigod.” She dragged her orgasm and adrenaline abused body into bed. ‘I can’t tell him about the baby monitor now... ‘ On the surface was the thought that he would assume that she’d been spying on him – but underneath was the realization that she was probably going to do it again...


‘Perfume?’ Kanye was consuming his breakfast – and smelling that delectable smell again. Swallowing his corn flakes, he gave voice to the question, “Lucille? Are you wearing something new?”

Lucille blinked. “No.” She frowned. “What are you talking about?” ‘He can’t see me – how... ?’

“I meant a scent. Perfume?”

“No...” She’d been standing at the counter, staring at his crotch. After a moment’s puzzlement, the light dawned! ‘Omigod! He can smell my... !’ Her crotch was damp – he was smelling her secretions! How to handle this? “Maybe...” she croaked. “Maybe you just hadn’t noticed it before.”

“No, I have a pretty good nose...”

“Maybe I need a shower or something.” Lucille got out of there! ‘God! So embarrassing!’

‘So that’s her?’ Kanye mused. ‘Pretty awesome. I wonder how she masked it before?’

Later, in the car as she was taking him to class, Kanye brought it up. “Um, sorry about the smell thing. Actually, I was going to tell you how much I liked it.”

“I, uh, er, um, thank you?” Lucille had no idea how to react to that!

“So it’s not perfume?”

“Well...” ‘Maybe it is... ‘

“Well, you smell nice. I like it.”

“Th-thank you.”

“I’m surprised that I didn’t pick up on it before.”

“So am I.” It was as stupid thing to say, but it was all Lucille could come up with. Moments later, Kanye was out of the car and Lucille was sitting there, rubbing her face. ‘Gawd, he can smell wet pussy! Thank God he doesn’t RECOGNIZE that smell!’

Lucille got through the day – and the night – managing to avoid the temptation to watch Kanye masturbate. It wasn’t easy. Helping him with his homework, or assisting him with the little daily tasks that he needed eyes for brought them into contact – and made Kanye an object of Lucille’s desire. Her own masturbation session now had a focus – a powerful one, one that generated powerful orgasms that were, nonetheless, unsatisfactory. Kanye slept soundly after his own session, so he missed her nocturnal activity – but when he got up to go to the bathroom late that night, the aroma in the vicinity of Lucille’s bedroom was maddening! ‘Maybe she spilled a bottle of the stuff there and gets it on her periodically,’ Kanye mused. It would explain why she denied wearing anything...

The smell was there on her in the morning. Kanye tried not to attract any attention when he inhaled in her presence, but Lucille noticed the inhale – and the smile that went with it.

‘I have to shower, after... ‘ she made a note to herself. She tried to stay away, but that conflicted with her need to be noticed by the randy male in her guest room, which was totally instinctive. That drove her to present herself to him – and being in his presence triggered her arousal on a regular basis.

Kanye was pleased. His mental picture of her was vague – memories from his distant childhood didn’t provide the kind of detail that would allow him to visualize her properly. But there was that smell ... It seemed to emanate from her more and more often. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed having her around, emanating it. Sex didn’t enter into it. To Kanye, sex was this mechanical thing you did to your cock. He knew it was important to other people in other ways, but he had no experience with those things and couldn’t relate to them. Sex with Lucille wasn’t anything he thought of as an option; while he’d of course come across the fact that sex was something you did with a female, it was all pretty academic to Kanye – and Lucille wasn’t female. She was a ‘caregiver’ – an extension of ‘Mom’ who wasn’t emotionally invested in him. But he enjoyed having her around. It made him happy, somehow, to have her in the room with him.

Lucille would probably have been horrified if she understood his thought process. Certainly, she would have been humiliated, and probably repelled. But she didn’t, which was just as well. That he experienced pleasure at her presence was validation for her. It wasn’t enough, though...

She didn’t realize it, but she began presenting herself to him. Of course, this failed, because he couldn’t see it – which frustrated her some. What was perhaps more irritating was the fact that she didn’t know WHY she was frustrated! Instinct had her doing things that would attract a male – and the male was inconsistent in his responses. He seemed to like having her there, but ... Only the general case surfaced for her consciously. “Does he want me here? He seems to, but...” ‘But... ‘ caused her unease, primarily because consciously, she couldn’t define exactly what ‘But... ‘ was.

Her conscious mind wasn’t aware of her activity, but her unconscious was. When presenting her breasts or ass for the male to look at didn’t generate a response, it moved on – and Lucille discovered an urge to touch Kanye. The touches were theoretically innocent, the brushes against him accidental – but Kanye noticed. Was she clumsy? He didn’t think so. Some of it just appeared to be casual. He wasn’t used to it, but it wasn’t BAD ... Besides, it brought her in close, where he could get a whiff of whatever that smell was.

His acceptance of contact pleased Lucille, both consciously and unconsciously. Consciously, they were ‘shaking down’ and getting comfortable with each other; unconsciously, she had the male’s attention, and could move forward.

Things slowly ramped up over the period of about a week; Lucille believed that she was exercising restraint by avoiding both the baby monitor and being in close proximity to Kanye’s room during the periods of his daily exercise in sexual relief. But she didn’t have to see him or hear him to know what he was doing, and her fevered imagination had that incident when she DID see him to work with. Kanye would retire to his room for the night, and Lucille to hers – and sounds she THOUGHT she heard drove her to masturbate feverishly in her room while he did in his. She wasn’t as quiet as he was, either, and his hearing was acute, so he noticed. He didn’t let it stop him, as it was clear that she was safely distant, but he wondered what she was up to.

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