My brother-in-law, Bob called me to inform me that my big sister Jean had breast cancer. She had found a lump in her right breast and it was confirmed to be malignant.
“Why didn’t she tell me herself?” I asked him.
“She wanted to wait for it to be confirmed before worrying you. She is starting chemo this week.”
Of course, I went immediately to see her and give her moral support. We talked about her plans and what I could do to help her and Bob. Fortunatel,y he is retired so he can run the household while she is sick from the treatments.
“The only thing is that I have to give up on my charity projects because my immune system will be compromised and I can’t be around the sick,” she said.
“Surely there are others who can pick up the load for you,” I replied.
“Oh yes, there are plenty of warm bodies available. It’s just that I have a couple of clients who are special. One is a blind man who depends on me, and none of the other women will work with him.
“He can be quite irascible at times if things aren’t just so around his apartment. Being blind, you can imagine what happens if a chair is left in the wrong place or something. I have learned what goes where and he is very nice to me”
“What is it you do for him?” I asked.
“I go there once a week and do some dusting, change his bedsheets and towels, and launder them. He will be in bad shape before I can return.”
In a moment of weakness, I asked if I could take her place for a few weeks.
“Oh, would you? That would be marvelous, just until my treatments are over.”
“So, what’s the schedule? I will have to arrange time off from work.”
“Three mornings a week he goes to physical therapy and is gone for the day. I usually go on Wednesday morning, strip his bed, put things in the apartment complex laundry and while waiting, remake his bed and pick up around the place, maybe do his breakfast dishes.
“I’m usually gone before he is brought back.” She gave me the keys to his place, thanking me profusely.
So, the next three Wednesday mornings I was Mr Burns dog’s body, doing things I wouldn’t do for a husband if I had one. Jeanie was quite sick from the chemo, but she always asked after him.
The next week, as I entered his unit without knocking, a voice called, “Jean?” Apparently, he was at home this morning.
“No Mr Burns, I’m her sister Janet. She is still too sick to work. I have been coming here in her place; she didn’t want you to be left hanging.” I stood at the door to his bedroom, seeing that he was still in bed.
“Is everything OK? Do you need something?” I went in and stood by the bed.
“Yes, she always helps me when I am in a fix.”
“What does she help you with?”
“This!” He whipped the covers off uncovering a very respectable erection which he grasped with one hand and waved at me. “She takes care of this.”
He laughed at my being startled; he must have sensed that I jumped back at the unexpected sight. Being a nurse, I have seem many penises, though usually not quite so big and hard. Even my dates haven’t been so well equipped.
“What does she do for that?” I asked; I was surprised at big sis, a married woman, being so accommodating.
“She makes it go down, she makes me cum, sometimes twice because I have a lot of pent-up sexual energy. Sometimes she takes it in her mouth. I really like it when she does that.”
By this time, I was sitting on the edge of his bed. He reached out, found my hand and guided it to his cock. It felt hot and it was throbbing.
“Stroke it,” he murmured, closing his eyes. I was glad he did because his eyes were uncoordinated and unnerving to watch when he wasn’t wearing dark glasses. Otherwise, he was a reasonably attractive man.
“Your hand is rougher than Jean’s, I like it. Keep stroking and hold my balls with your other hand.” I did as asked and soon he shot a large load of cum straight into the air.
He thanked me, then arose and went, without help to shower. After washing my hands of his spunk I went about the usual chores. While I was in the laundry, his ride came and took him away.
The next week the apartment was empty. I was actually a little disappointed; the idea that I was a placeholder for my naughty big sister’s charity work gave me a chuckle.
Sure enough, the next week he was there, sitting in his easy chair wearing a robe and sporting a woody. This time I acted annoyed with him.
“Do you think I have nothing better to do than give hand jobs to demanding old men?” I wasn’t really angry, so I knelt down in front of him and took him in hand.
“Jean sometimes takes me into her mouth. I really like when she does that.” This guy has balls, I give him that.
“Does she swallow?” I asked in jest.
“Oh yes, then she kisses me, snowballing she calls it.” Jesus, I thought, was this my big sister? I thought I knew Jean pretty well.
“Well, anything Jean can do I can do better,” I thought, so I went down on him. I decided not to kiss him after. This was becoming quite a situation, one I never imagined I would be in. But it was not entirely unpleasant for me.
The next week, nobody home again, then the week after, there he was. I had a lunch date, so I was wearing a skirt rather than my usual scrubs. Mr Burns was in bed again so I just sat right down and reached for his cock.
As I leaned in to take him in my mouth he asked if he could touch my pussy. Keeping his cock in my mouth I shook my head no, but he ignored what he couldn’t see and his hand began to grope for my thigh.
This whole scenario had become so routine that I unconsciously spread my legs and his hand found gold.
“Sometimes Jean straddles me and lets me fuck her and play with her tits. You know sightless people have enhancement of their other faculties.”
His fingers had pulled my panties aside and were strumming my clit very delicately. In my defense, I hadn’t had any sex in months.
“Oh fuck it,” I said to myself. I slipped my panties off and mounted his rampant cock. It was a truly memorable fuck with much vocalizing from both of us. I came before he did.
When we finished he said, “You know, I think you have your sister beat.”
Up until this time, I had not confronted Jean about her, (our) duties for Mr Burns. When she inquired about him I just said he was getting along OK.
The next time I went to visit her I made a comment about how forward he was and that he was home a lot on Wednesday mornings.
She looked at me askance before saying, “Oh my god, you didn’t fall for that old con man’s line, did you? Why do you think none of the ladies will work with him?”
