Abasiophilia – Wheelchair Sex

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Abasiophilia – Wheelchair Sex on Valentine’s Day

Abasiophilia is defined as sexual arousal derived from viewing or sexually interacting with a person who has limited mobility, such as an individual wearing a cast or using crutches or in a wheelchair.



Yes, I can walk. So you are probably asking yourself, why am I sitting here in a wheelchair?

Ok, it isn’t a mystery. Let me explain from the beginning.

First off, my name is Avery Potemkin. Dumb name huh? My mom worked in a stationary store and though Avery was a nice name for stationary supplies, I never said she was a genius. I guess it’s ok if you are a box of blank business cards waiting to be run off in a copy machine, but hey, I never heard of anyone naming themselves before they were born. Someone always has to do the dirty work.

And the Russian Zinger? Well, put the blame on Mame. My Mom, known as Mame, has always had a weak spot that guys seem to penetrate. Before I was born, she was infatuated with a Russian dancer that danced his cock so deep inside her, that mixture of pungent Cossack DNA kicked itself crazy right up her womb and bingo, that’s where I come from.Then he waltzed off to Moscow. I’ve never met the “bas-turd,” as my grandma called him. Mom never said anything accept, “He had a nice big Russian cock.” She’s partial to the big Kahunas.

Being raised by my Mother and my grandmother, as you can imagine, I was spoiled. I’ve tried to get past this by being less demanding and comprehensive of other people’s needs. Sometimes this has gotten me in trouble. In the last year of college I lived with Gloria Rasmussen, a Swedish exchange student. I did everything to make her happy. I cooked, cleaned and gave her orgasms several times a day, mostly oral.

Sorry, that is what she liked. Maybe she had a lesbian roommate before me. I found out late in the game she was more than a little bit bipolar. If she was displeased with me, if I didn’t clean up the apartment adequately, she’d tie me up while I was sleeping and I wake up to see some bozo she’d met God knows where, probably in the downstairs bar, fucking her on the other side of the bed. Sure, after a few Swedish punishment sessions and I packed my bags and left. I don’t think she ever noticed my absence with all the guys coming round. After that experience I’ve lived alone.There is so much pussy in Los Angeles that they fight over the rats.

I’m employed at the Los Angeles Times, I’m a copywriter working my way up to an editor’s job. I used to do work on their weekly science page but they dropped that feature for some reason. I guess science isn’t of interest out here. Mostly tits and cocks take center page. As a result I get shuffled around from one department to another. I worked a lot on the Auto Show Edition, maybe you saw that one? Journalism is a dying art, or as one of the senior guys says, “A dying fart.” The future is the internet. Print on paper is as modern as the model T.

A year ago I was in a minor traffic accident. I had just turned 24 years old and was on my way to see a play at the East West Theater over on Judge Aiso Street. This is a predominantly Asian Repertory company, very talented and they pick plays out of the mainstream.A Trans friend had gotten a small part in a racy drama where he played a guy who left home to become a girl and ended up being seduced by his unknowing Indian father in Mumbai. I’m told that the Dad’s ultimate “climaxing” line of the play was, “If only I’d had a daughter as lovely as you.”

That was when a cab ran up on the curb over on San Pedro Street and knocked me down. Fortunately I did not suffer broken bones, but the damage to my leg muscles was enough to keep me in pain and pain killers and in this shiny wheelchair for three months. As I recovered I began to walk using two canes but when the effort was too much I’d fall back on the wheelchair.


Perhaps you’ve never heard of Abasiophilia. That is the fancy name for sexual arousal that is derived from either viewing or sexually interacting with a person who is crippled or using crutches or confined to a wheelchair. If you had told me of this fetish existed before my accident I would have thought you were crazy. I quickly learned that you are not bonkers, it does exist and is far more common than one would think. Women in particular have a weak spot for such an individual, a weak spot that propels them to gift the subject with a variety of sexual favors.


For example, my first experience took place a month ago when I was on my way to an appointment for a checkup with a specialist. A rather attractive chubby woman, I would guess in her fifties, got into the elevator with me. I was headed to the 14th floor, she pushed the button for the eleventh.

She smiled at me and said, “You poor boy.”

I smiled back as the elevator began to climb, then she pushed the elevator stop button.

“Oh dear boy,” she seemed to have a Boston accent, “how difficult it must be for you to get güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri relief and at your age that is very important? You deserve a reward for your bravery.”

Before I could answer she knelt with some effort in front of me, holding onto the wheel chair arms and unzipped my fly. Her warm hand twisted inside and seized her prize, my rather large cock that like a snake, sprung into action at her touch. She leaned forward, opens her lipstick clad lips, and out came a long tongue. First she began to lick the shaft and then gobbled my cock up like a hawk swooping down to grab a lizard. I looked down at her, her cleavage was well exposed in that position and I ogled her large full breasts as she sucked. I reached out to squeeze her titties. I said nothing.

It didn’t take long for my cock to respond and spout a stream of sperm down her throat. I assumed she swallowed a rather sizable load. I wanted to yell out but thought better of it as we were in a public place and who knows who might be watching on the security camera. When she finished she reached into her rather sizable purse and took out a folded linen handkerchief. She turned toward the mirrored wall and wiped any cum residue from her lips and then she carefully wiped my cock dry. She paused to put on fresh lipstick before hitting the “go” button.

She looked at me a bit oddly.

“You aren’t retarded, dear. Are you?”

Amused I made a sort of crooked grin and said nothing.

“Well, I hope that made your day?”

I continued smiling and repeated, “My day,” several times.

She turned towards the door giving me her back and exited at her floor.

In short, that night there was certainly no need to masturbate, I was as she stated, no longer in need of relief. And asides from my clowning around, it was a very adequate blow job.

Maybe this fetish is tied to a woman’s desire to mother those of us who have suffered an unfortunate experience. There I was thinking my elevator blowie was a unique event, when in fact guys in wheelies seem to get them all the time.


A week later, I once more took an Uber over to that same medical building on Wilshire Blvd. for a follow-up medical appointment with a muscle specialist. The drivers are nice about stowing the wheel chair but you have to request the larger car. I didn’t realize it at that moment, but I had made a mistake. I had stupidly arrived two hours early.

The two security guards noticed me right away and gave me odd looks, I wondered if they had seen the tape of the blowie. I might be an internet porno star for all I knew. The older guard scowled at me and stepped out to make sure no one followed me into the elevator, directing several people to the elevator to our left. A yuppy milf in sandals looked longingly at me but moved on as directed.

I rope up in silence, thinking of my last trip and the lovely lady who’d accompanied me. When I figured out which direction the office was, I headed left down the hall and entered the doctor’s office. I was made aware that I had screwed up. Although I had the appointment card in my wallet, I’d failed to check the hour and relied on what turned out to be my faulty memory. The doctor had not arrived from his second office. It seems a lot of these medics have a string of offices to maximize their profits. The nurse was a rather good looking women, probably about thirty-five, her name tag read “Nurse Sarah.” She had red curly hair and a rather short smock. She sort of looked like an Irish leprechaun with two nicely compact tits. As I entered the room she said,

“Mr. Potemkin, your appointment is not until this afternoon. Perhaps you’d like to return then?”

“Well, I’m here now, can I wait?”

“Oh I feel so sorry for you, you are in for at least a two hour wait, even if Doctor Lasko arrives on time. The traffic being what it is, we never know.”

“You said we? Is there someone else here?”

“Oh no, it’s just a matter of speaking. No, you and I are quite alone. Can I get you anything, do you need help getting or going to the bathroom?”


“To tell you the truth I do have to pee, I’ll never last 2 hours.”

“Oh then let me help you. Are you able to stand?”

“Yes, with some difficulty.”

“Don’t worry, I’m a nurse, I can help.”

She walked over to the entry door and twisted the lock.

“We don’t want anyone breaking in while we are in the other part of the office.”

“Oh no, certainly not.”

She rolled me quickly to the bathroom

“Would you like me to help seat you on the toilet or do you prefer a bedpan?”

“I can make do with a pan.”

“You won’t have to make do, I’ll help.”

She unzipped my pants and lowered my underwear below my balls as I arched upwards.She

She held my cock in her hand as I peed, she held me tightly but not enough to impede the urine flow. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

“Are you through?” she asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

She shook my cock a few times getting out every last drop out and then wiped me with a soft güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri kleenex, then said.

“I think we should cream you to keep your skin moist.”

“Yes, I know, my face gets dry.”

“I’m not talking about your face.”

“Oh, ok,” I said, my cock hanging out like a hibernating reptile between my legs. She wheeled me out of the bathroom into the examining room.

She disappeared for a moment into a supply closet went and came out with a bottle of sweet smelling lotion that she squirted on her palm and applied directly to my cock. I raised up a bit to encourage her to apply it to my balls as well.

That got a smile out of her.

I was embarrassed when the old cockero began to take a stand and firmed up under her tutelage, my bare shiny cock’s helmet looked rather nice.

“Oh you are nicely built,” she said. “By the way, my name is Sarah.”

“Hy Sarah, I’m Arnold, Arney.”

“Yes, just like the muscle man.”

I laughed, “Not exactly.”

“I doubt if his ‘whose-it’ is ant bigger than this.”

Now she was still holding me tightly. Shaking my cock like a rattle.The snake was raising up under her tight grip.

“Have you had sex since you have been wheelchair bound?”

No, I lied, “I guess I’m too pitiful to invoke female interest.”

At that she reached under her short white smock and pulled down her panties.


“Would you mind if I sat down on you so you might fit this large organ into the place it deserves to be.”

“That would be wonderful,” I was smiling at my good luck.

She was one of those women who have rather large labia, and her clitorus sort of just peaked out from the folds. When she lifted up her skirt and I could also see her sweet bare bottom, she seemed to know just how to sit on a cock because she never let go as she lowered herself and guided my dick inside her as if she was a pro. It fit snuggly right into her nest where it was so warm and moist and tight even with the lotion easing the way into paradise.

She did her little dance as if she was really enjoying herself and I reached forward with my right hand to tickle her clit. With the left I reached under her bra. She came quickly, I waited patiently and when she finished orgasming, I bucked strongly up into her tight pussy until I couldn’t help but spit my venom inside her.

“Oh my, you really had a lot of juice in you, I’m quite flooded. Excuse me for a minute, I have to wash up.”

Then she added,

“It’s a good thing I am on the pill, my husband doesn’t want me to get pregnant. God only knows how many babies we could have made with that volume of sperm you put inside me.”‘

She handed me a few damp paper towels and I cleaned myself as she exited. I could hear her in the bathroom pee, a loud rush of a torrent, not very ladylike but so nice to hear, I could almost smell it. She came back a few moment later.

“Oh yes, Arney, you really did the job, my pussy was drenched.”


I smiled.

“I’m so glad I could give you a moment of happiness,” she said.

“Oh it was wonderful, I can’t thank you enough.” I was aware the ‘moment’ was mutual but I said nothing.

“Well, I’ll give you one of our commendation forms to fill out but don’t write down what we did.”

We both laughed. I thought to myself, there is something about good sex that makes you want to laugh.

“Ok, let me wheel you back in the waiting room. And, shhh,” she held her finger up to her lips,

“Not a word about our fun.”

“Of course not, darling Sarah. Thanks again.”

She rustled through some papers on her desk and handed me a white sheet,

“If you don’t mind please fill this out.” Now she was all business, then she looked up and winked at me.

I sat there for the next hour reading a car magazine. When I finished that I started a New Yorker magazine. About half way through the story, a sexy drug salesgirl came in.

Sarah said, “The doctors expecting you, but he is running late today. Can you return at 4pm. We have a full schedule today.”

The salesgirl reached into her large black leather bag.

“Here Sarah, I baked these for you and handed the nurse a little box.”

“Thanks hon, see you later.”

“You Sir, in the wheelchair, here have a cookie.”


The salesgirl smiled. Then a fat man limped into the office and one by one a long line of patients arrived. Before long every seat in the place was filled.

Since mine was the first appointment, Sarah wheeled me in to the examining room. The doctor was a young Asian with a very large head.

“I’m Doctor Lasco, would you please drop your trousers and lie on the examining table.”

He spent a good amount of time pressing various muscles and asking for my pain response on a scale of one to ten. When he finished he pointed at my cock and asked, “One to ten,” Before I could answer he added laughing, “just kidding.”

“I think you can start to ease up on the use of the wheelchair,” he said, “start to walk a few minutes every hour at home, with a güvenilir bahis şirketleri cane if needed but don’t get dependent on the chair.”

“Thanks Doctor.” He helped me to my feet and said,

“You better put your pants back on, we can’t have you going out into the waiting room like that.”

I noticed Sarah’s face turned red.

I got dressed and Sarah wheeled me out, every seat in the waiting room was filled up. One of the patients kindly stood up and opened the door for me.

“So nice to meet you Mr. Arnold,” said Sarah, as she pushed an appointment card of the doctor’s into my hand, on the back she had written, ‘Sarah, and her phone number 323 5643.’ Then she said quietly, as she pushed me into the hall, then she whispered,

“If my husband answers just say you are calling from the lab and don’t forget to call me before Valentine’s Day.”

We smiled at each other and I wheeled myself down the hall to the elevator. My dick was starting to get firm again.


The next week was my good friend Don’s birthday. He and his wife were having a party. It was a week before Vallaidentine’s Day so they’d combined it into a themed party. I guess I should mention that Don and his wife are kind of laid back sexually. At their party anything goes.

I never like to arrive at a party early, I prefer to get there a little late. When I arrived the party was going full blast. Don met me at the door and wheeled me in. Of course I never tried to get out of the chair even though it was now a real possibility. I wanted to see if the magic hadn’t worn off. Don took the handles and wheeled me around, introducing me to his different friends.

He worked his way around the crowded room.

“You gotta meet these two vixens,” Don said. “Their parents must have the King and Queen because they are royal pussy.”

He sure got the right, My eye was caught immediately by the two Dawson Twins. If I’d been a fish the hook would have gone right through my eye. They were so identical that one certainly could not tell them apart. They both wore identical dresses that left little to the imagination. Bountiful tits, narrow waisted and long graceful legs. I felt like I’d died and been wheeled to heaven.

Of course when I heard their name I immediately thought of the Richard Dawson of “Family Feud” who was forever kissing and groping the female contestants. I’m sure in this me-to era the only thing keeping him from being sued is it is hard to serve someone who is already in a coffin.


I said, “Hi” to the twins

I wanted to be certain they noticed how needy I was. They were stunning and pretty much an exact replica of each other, as you would expect. Having an eye for detail I noticed that even though they were dressed identically, one twin’s red high heel had a scuff across the suede and a she had tiny birthmark on her left ear right next to the diamond stud earring piercing.

As the evening wore on the twin, who said her name was Janet started a long conversation with me about the equality of women and I agreed with everything she said. Why argue? Most pussy is equal, of course sloppy pussy exists but when you are inside you don’t think to complain, you are damn happy just to be there. Maybe Richard Dawson would?

I was surprised when one the twins said,

“Are you comfortable in the chair?”

“Well, I’m really supposed to stretch out every few hours.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem.”

She excused us from the crowd and wheeled me into the guest bedroom.

“Are you able to stand?”

“Yes, but not for too long.” I was trying to make myself as needy as possible.

“Let me help you onto the bed.”

With my arm around her shoulder, my wandering fingers “accidentally” brushing up against her soft warm breast, I allowed her to steer me towards the bed. My fingers deserved to be smacked but when I realized she was letting me touch her I slipped my hand inside her bra and put her nipple between my two fingers.


My nipple play must have excited her. I also had the feeling she had popped an Ecstasy pill just before I arrived, she looked ready to blast off. As she laid me down and held onto her and pulled her into the bed with me. In a few moment her blouse was off as well as her bra and I was busy sucking her boobs. While I was sucking she reached down and unbuckled my belt and before a minute had passed she had freed the demon, stuffed him inside her and was busy “riding the horse,” as they say.

“Don’t cum yet,” she ordered as she extricated herself from my cock.


I had no idea what was happening next.

She got up, threw the blouse around her and leaned into the hall, calling out to her sister. She said, as she turned to me.

“We always share our men,”


Soon Janice arrived slightly out of breath. She looked the same as her sister but there was a difference. My dick was I still hard at full mast and ready when she took her sister’s place above me. She dropped her skirt on the bed and maneuvered into place. I realized then that her vagina was not identical with her sister’s. She was tighter than Janet and she had some difficulty impaling herself on my cock. I tried to reach under her blouse to touch her tits but she kept moving around as if she was more interested in getting different angulation on my cock to get a better fit.

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