by Christian de Neuvillette

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Light Bond, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Slow, .

Desc: Sex Story: After two weeks of self-denial, Tom puts himself into Gayle's hands - literally.

It all started when Tom broke his finger. He was helping move some of his elderly Father's furniture when the middle finger of his right hand got caught between the shelf he was carrying and the door frame. A quick trip to the hospital and Tom's middle finger was in a brace.

As injuries go, the finger was pretty minor, but being right- handed Tom quickly found a world of inconveniences. verything took a little longer to do, and some jobs were nearly impossible without at least a little thought.

He was complaining about it to his friend Gayle during an instant messager session.

Tomcat: Busted my finger today - it's making typing a bitch

Gayle Force: Oh no! Are you going to be all right?

TC: Yeah, but I can tell it's going to be a frustrating six weeks - Lots of things I can't do.

GF: Anything I can do to help out.

TC: Well there is one thing - ah never mind.

GF: What?

TC: I could use a hand at one thing, but I doubt you'll agree.

GF: Again, what?

TC: It involves lubricant...

GF: Sure.

TC: I'm joking of course.

TC: Wait, did you just agree?!?!

GF: Yes.

TC: You realize I just asked you for a hand job?

GF: Yes.

TC: God. Now I'm beat red and my heart is pounding.

GF: lol

GF: I win!

After logging off, Tom couldn't get the exchange out of his head. She couldn't be serious could she? It wasn't as if he really needed someone to jerk him off - his left hand was perfectly OK; plus, he has an assortment of toys to get himself off with.

The problem was that Tom and Gayle were "just good friends", which is to say Tom would have dropped everything to have sex with Gayle, but Gayle didn't see him that way. Tom was the archetypical urban nerd and Gayle liked country boys. Tom knew it, so he limited his attraction to surreptitious glances and double entendres. They flirted, and they both knew that a flirt was not a promise.

Or at least, that was what Tom thought until that night online. Now there was a glimmer of hope for something more. Normally this would fuel a week's worth of masturbation fantasies. But this time, Tom went to bed hard and untouched. He drifted off imagining Gayle's hands on his cock.

The next day, work proved to be as difficult as he had thought it would be. Working with a computer all day necessitated that he relearn how to type with one finger out of action. By the end of the day his hand was cramped in addition to the dull ache in his finger. He also had to contend with a general buzz of low-level horniness all day. Every time he thought about his hand, he also thought about Gayle's promise (in his mind it had grown from a throwaway line to a promise). Despite the cramp in his palm, Tom signed on when he got home and immediately noticed that Gayle was online.

GF: So how was your day.

TC: It was OK, my hand was giving me problems, but I'm learning to cope.

GF: Is it throbbing?

TC: Nah, more of a dull ache radiating from the fracture.

GF: I wasn't talking about you hand.

TC: Oh that - well, it's only been two days since my last, uh, session. I'm not desperate yet.

TC: Although I am looking forward to a helping hand.

GF: I bet you are.

TC: I haven't quite decided if you're a tease or a NightinGAYLE.

GF: Oh, definitely a nightingale.

TC: And how can I know that for sure?

GF: I'm a good girl...

GF:... with kinky bits.

TC: Coming to the party tomorrow?

GF: Of course - I'll have some happiness just for you.

Tom signed off and just sat there. Every sentence in their chat session had sent a rush of blood to his groin and now he was rock solid.

"My drop-dead gorgeous friend is going to give me a hand job tomorrow" he thought. He resisted the urge to whack off right there, instead going to bed. It was a long night, the thoughts that raced through his head prevented him from relaxing enough to fall asleep. Eventually, exhaustion set in and he passed out. He dreamed of Gayle's body, her face, her legs, her ass - but mostly he dreamed of her hands.

At the party the next day, Tom thought "Ok, just keep it cool, you're two friends out with a bunch of other friends having a good time. She was probably just kidding, so don't make a pest of yourself."

Gayle had shown up wearing a short skirt and a tank top. A combination that made the most of her long legs, small breasts and spectacular ass. A belly button piercing and multiple bracelets topped off the ensemble. Also along was her young son.

"You know we're going out clubbing tonight don't you? I don't think your six year old will get past the bouncer." said Tom.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Something came up and I have to take him to Edmonton. Can I have a rain check for the dancing? I know it was last minute, but I thought I'd at least make an appearance before I left." she said.

"That depends, do I get a rain check too?"

"Of course, I'd never leave you... short handed", she giggled.

Was her smile just a little more impish than usual, Tom thought, or is it just my imagination.

"Do I at least get a good-bye hug?"

She held her arms open and Tom rushed in. They hugged warmly. As they held each other, Tom whispered "I had no idea you could be such a tease".

"Count on it" she whispered back.

They let go of each other and Gayle turned to walk back to her truck, where her son were waiting, oblivious to the exchange taking place.

"I thought you were a nightingale?" Tom said.

"I can be both", she replied.

Monday night, they chatted again on line.

GF: So how was your weekend?

TC: Pretty good, I got to see some friends I hadn't seen in a long time, I had some banked hours at work so I took Friday off, and I didn't even have to help my Dad finish moving on account of my finger.

GF: So it was a 100 percent good weekend?

TC: Well, there was one small part of me that was disappointed.

GF: I hope it isn't that small a part. lol.

TC: It's been six days without for me, I'm starting to get pretty frustrated.

GF: *GASP* six days?

GF: You mean you've been waiting for me?

TC: Well, yeah.

TC: I want it to be a good one - I don't get opportunities like this very often.

TC: It's getting hard to wait though.

GF: I bet it's getting hard. Can you wait until next weekend?

TC: Are you serious, I can hardly wait until supper time.

GF: Wait until this weekend, and I guarantee it will be a good one.

She signed off before he could reply.

Another week he thought? The conversation had definitely crossed the line from teasing flirt to verbal foreplay. Tom hoped Gayle and he were on the same wavelength - he'd hate to wait that long just to have her say she wasn't serious. Frustration was one thing, but combining it with an embarrassing faux pas was quite another.

It was a long week and Tom made it even longer by jerking off every night. With a Herculean force of will he managed to stop before coming. He didn't know what was coming over him - it would obviously be less frustrating to leave his anxious cock alone, but he couldn't help himself. Every time he was on the brink of orgasm he would imagine how much better it would feel if it was Gayle's fingers wrapped around his shaft. Her hand slick with lube sliding up and down.

He found himself staring at women's hands a lot more, imagining them slowly masturbating him. In just ten days he had gone from never thinking about hands at all to seriously fetishizing them.

At the same time, the frustration was making him strangely eager to please every woman he talked to. He went out of his way to be extra polite to them all. It attacked a few comments from his coworkers

"You certainly are cheerful today"

"It's almost Friday", said Tom.

"Got big plans for the weekend do you. Going out of town?"

"Nope, I just think It's going to be a great weekend."

Meanwhile, his nightly chats with Gayle had become strangely chaste - she never mentioned their weekend plans, and when Tom surreptitiously tried to bring it up she would feign ignorance or suddenly have to sign off.

After an eternity, Friday came. As soon as Tom was off work, he phone Gayle.

"Hello" she said.

"Hey nightingale - mind if I come over tonight?", asked Tom, trying to sound casual.

"Sure - I sent Dylan to see his cousins for the weekend and I definitely have plans for you. When you come over, dress casual - in clothes you don't mind losing."

"Um, Ok. Seems like an odd request for a first date though."

"Who said anything about a date - I plan on putting you to work painting the kitchen. You can do that one-handed right?".

Tom stood there, mouth open with his phone against his ear.

"Hello? Are you still there?" asked Gayle.

"Yeah, um, painting - I've got some coveralls.

Crestfallen, Tom made his way home to get a change of clothes, and from there went to Gayle's. The whole way there, he felt like a fool for assuming anything could ever happen between the two of them.

Gayle was waiting at the door when he arrived. She was wearing cutoffs and a grubby T-shirt, both had specks of green paint on them. A handkerchief kept paint off her auburn hair.

"Hi, I saw you coming up the street so I came to open the door", she held the door open for him, "You can change in the bathroom. In addition to painting, I have a fine meal of Thai take out prepared."

They exchanged more pleasantries as Tom moved to the bathroom. He changed into his coveralls and came out.

.... There is more of this story ...

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