Author: closetquean
Title: Pleasure by Proxy
Summary: Boyfriend of a paraplegic is given the offer he can't refuse.
Keywords: cuckquean,cuckqueen,voyeur,MF,humiliation,female
cuckold,cheating husband
WARNING: This file contains sexually explicit material.

   If you do not wish to read sexually explicit material, or you are under
18, please delete this file immediately.



   Pleasure by Proxy

   by closetquean

   "Anthony, wake up!!  Movie's done," Sonya said, shaking me awake.

   I woke up and saw the ending credits of the indie movie we had
downloaded moving up the screen.

   "Oh, Sonya, I'm sorry," I told her, groggily.  "Guess I was pretty
tired."

   "That's okay, it wasn't that great...you seen one zombie movie, you've
seen 'em all," Sonya said, turning off the big screen TV.  She maneuvered
her wheelchair and started toward the kitchen, then stopped, turning it
back towards me.

   "Oh, my mother wants to talk to you before you go home.  She told me to
make sure you talk to her - go knock on her door."

   "What about?" I asked, furiously wracking my brain for anything I'd done
wrong.  I couldn't think of anything.

   "She wants to tell you herself," Sonya said, mysteriously.

   "Am I in trouble?" I asked, worriedly.

   Sonya smiled.  "Definitely NOT in trouble."

   "So you know what she's going to say?" I asked.

   "Oh yes, I know," Sonya said, nodding her head slowly.

   "You can't give me a hint?" I asked.

   "Just go see my mother," Sonya said.  "She's waiting to talk to you."

   "Okay, I'm going," I said.  "One hint?"

   Exasperated, Sonya shook her head.

   "No hints," she told me, firmly.  "I will tell you one thing, though."

   "What?" I asked

   "You'll probably like what she has to say - that's all I'm going to say
about it," Sonya said.

   "I'll go," I told her.  "You want to come?"

   "Nope," Sonya said.  "I'm going to bed.  I'm so tired."

   As if to prove her point, Sonya yawned hugely.  I watched her stretch,
her muscular arms reaching up as high as she could reach.

   "Okay, I'll let myself out when we're done talking," I assured her.  "Go
get some rest."

   I walked over to her and bent down to kiss her.  Sonya wrapped her arms
around my neck and returned the kiss, her lips soft against mine, her mouth
welcoming my tongue.  We kissed for several more minutes; I could feel my
cock getting hard in my jeans.

   "Wow," Sonya said, as we pulled apart.  She was as affected by the kiss
as I was.  From her wheelchair, Sonya's line of sight was just a little
above crotch level.  She recognized my plight immediately.  She reached out
her hand and stroked my hard-on through the denim.  I let out a sigh of
pleasure and closed my eyes.  Sonya continued rubbing me for another minute
or so and then stopped.  I opened my eyes and looked at down at her face.
Sonya was staring at my bulging fly with a wistful, sad expression.  When
she looked up and saw me watching her, her smile brightened and all traces
of sadness disappeared.

   "Go see my mom," Sonya said.  "NOW."

   "Okay, I'm going, I'm going...!  Goodnight," I said.  "I'll be back
around five tomorrow," I told her, glancing at my watch.  It was almost
midnight.

   "Goodnight...see you tomorrow," she said cheerily as she wheeled her
chair around my and rolled down the hallway to her bedroom.  I watched the
wheels disappear into her bedroom, and the bedroom door shut behind her.

   I stopped in the bathroom to take a leak and splash some cold water on
my face.  I wanted to be completely cool before I talked to Sonya's mom. 
It wouldn't look so great to march in her room with my dick sticking
straight out of my crotch, I thought.  I looked in the mirror critically
and smoothed my dark hair from over my eyes.  I looked decent, I figured.
People looked at me all the time because I was good looking: Wavy, dark
brown hair, hazel eyes, a regular nose, a square jaw and full lips - I was
told I looked like a young Warren Beatty.  Girls stared, some of them bold
enough to hand me their phone numbers before running off to giggle with
their friends.  Since I'd gotten my license last year, I'd met and screwed
a dozen of these empty-headed little fluffs.  I'd gotten pretty tired of
meeting girls - most of them were shallow, materialistic, stupid or just
little bitches.  I looked down.  My hard-on had deflated the crotch of my
jeans back to normal.

   I washed my hands, my mind full of Sonya.  I'd met her at the downtown
library.  Sonya was incredibly lovely, her strawberry blonde hair cut short
like a pixie, framing her delicate features, her dark blue eyes that looked
around her with lively interest, and often, amusement.  As I drew closer to
her, I could see that her skin that was dusted liberally with freckles. 
I'd been compelled to talk to her.  And I did.

   "So, how much longer until you can get out of that chair?" I'd asked,
with my most charming smile.

   She'd looked up at me, bemused.

   "Never," she said.  "I'm paralyzed from the chest down."

   She said that so pleasantly, that I wasn't sure what I'd heard.

   "I'm sorry?" I asked.

   "I'm paralyzed," she repeated, louder.  "So, never."

   I'd stuck my foot in my mouth, I realized.

   "Oh, I'm sorry," I said, "It's just that you look so pretty, so
positive-looking, you know - " I stopped myself from further idiocy.

   "That you didn't think I could be a paraplegic?" she asked, without
rancor.

   "Well, yeah," I said.  "Stupid assumption."

   Time for her to turn tail and escape, I thought.  Idiot!

   "No problem," she said, putting her hand out.  "By the way, I'm Sonya."

   I grabbed her hand and kissed it.  Corny, I know, but it felt right.

   "Anthony, book freak and library geek," I said, making an expansive arm
gesture at the bookshelves all around us.

   I shook my head, ruefully, I'd become so enthralled with this little
fairy that I had to cart around her wheelchair every place we went, put her
in the chair, take her back out of the chair, check her catheter
levels...and it was all so very worth it.  I had never met anyone like
Sonya.  Smart.  Intelligent.  Funny.  Positive.  Open.  Fun-loving.

   Closing the bathroom door behind me, I headed to the room across from
Sonya's and knocked.

   "Mrs.  Lebedev?" I spoke through the door.

   The door opened, and Sonya's mom ushered me into her bedroom.  Mrs. 
Lebedev was definitely an attractive woman - and she knew it.  I guessed
she was in her early 40s or so, but she looked younger.  She was tiny, like
her daughter, barely reaching my chin.  Her hair was a pale blonde, but her
eyes were the same dark blue as Sonya's.  But, where Sonya was tiny
everywhere, her mother was voluptuous.  She was wearing a long t-shirt that
was snug over her breasts and only fell to mid-thigh.  I felt my cock
stirring in my pants.  Panicking, I thought if the most horrific and
gruesome thoughts I could summon.  War, corpses, people on fire, piranhas
feasting, tarantulas...I let out a small sigh of relief as I could feel my
erection fail.

   "Hello, Anthony...thank you for coming to talk to me," Mrs.  Lebedev
said in her heavy Russian accent.  She sat on the ottoman in the corner of
her room.  "Please, sit down for a moment so we can talk a little." She
gestured to the chair directly in front of the ottoman.

   I walked to the chair and sat down and she swiveled around to talk to
me. She was uncomfortably close to me, her knees almost touching mine.

   "I guess you've been wondering what I wanted to talk to you about?" she
asked.

   I nodded.

   "Yes, I've been wondering...although Sonya told me I wasn't in trouble
or anything," I said.

   Mrs.  Lebedev laughed.

   "Oh, no, not in trouble...!  In fact, is just the opposite." Mrs. 
Lebedev beamed at me.  "I just want to tell you I'm happy you are seeing my
daughter.  Sonya has not had many boyfriends.  Is hard for her to be in
wheelchair.  Not many boys want to go out with girl in wheelchair."

   I nodded, sympathetically.

   "But, YOU...you have been very good to my daughter.  You take her
places. She is much, much happier since she has met you," Mrs.  Lebedev
said, earnestly.

   "Well, I'm happy to hear that," I said, feeling self-conscious from all
the praise.  "Sonya's an amazing girl."

   "Yes, she is.  But if nobody is interested in girl who is handicapped,
nobody finds out what a beautiful girl she is.  Except for you.  YOU." Mrs.
Lebedev said again.

   I smiled, but said nothing.

   "In fact, when Sonya went to visit her father, she told him about you,"
he mother went on.

   I stiffened.  Her father?  All I knew about Sonya's father was that he
was with the Russian mob or something.

   "I hope it was GOOD things," I joked, weakly.

   "Of course, only GOOD things," Mrs.  Lebedev assured me.  "But Sonya's
father is - let's say - protective of her.  So he got some information
about you and asked around."

   I felt a momentary stab of fear and then squelched it.  I hadn't done
anything to worry about, I thought.  I HOPED.

   "He said you seem to be good guy," Mrs.  Lebedev assured me.  "He told
me to tell you to take Sonya to meet him on Wednesday night.  He will be at
the club.  Sonya will tell you how to get there.  At 7:00."

   "Oh, okay...I'll be happy to meet him," I said.  "But, Sonya doesn't
talk much about him, I don't know much about him.  What's he like, Mrs. 
Lebedev?"

   "Call me Daria," she said.  "Please."

   "Thank you - umm, Daria," I said.

   "What is he like?" her face turned somber.  "Is hard for me to describe.
He loves Sonya very much.  But he can be hard man.  His work..." she
trailed off.

   Neither of us said anything for a moment.

   "Maybe I can describe him another way," she told me, slowly.  "Do you
know why Sonya is in wheelchair?  Why she is paralyzed for rest of her
life?"

   "Well, she told me she was shot in the spine when she was eight years
old.  When she was playing outside," I said.

   "That is what happened," Daria said.  "Did she tell you anything else?"

   "No, that's all she said," I said.

   "Well, what happened is that my older brother, Alex - you have not met
him - anyway, my older brother was mixed up with bad people.  You know,"
she said, looking at me.

   I nodded.

   "Anyway, my older brother owed money that he could not pay back.  My
husband let him stay with us even though he did not approve of him.  But,
because he was my brother, he permitted him to live in the basement," Daria
paused a moment, remembering.  "The day she was shot, I was at the grocery
store.  I left Sonya with my brother.  And while I was gone, those men came
for my brother...he managed to hide from them..."

   "But Sonya did not," I finished for her.

   "Right," Daria said.  "Sonya got shot in the spine and was paralyzed. 
When I came home, police said they'd already taken her to hospital.  I
called my husband and told him what happened.  He met me at hospital.  He
was very angry with me.  He said it was my fault Sonya was paralyzed. 
Because I asked to have my brother live with us."

   Daria stopped talking, lost in her memories.  I stayed silent, not
wanting to interrupt.  She started up again.

   "Anyway, Viktor - Sonya's father - had had my brother picked up and they
beat him.  Almost to death.  It took him months to heal, but he is okay. 
But he moved out of state," Daria said.  "That was Alex's punishment.  For
ME, I had different punishment.  First, Viktor told me he was divorcing me
and taking custody of Sonya..."

   I murmured sympathetically, not knowing what to say.

   "And second...second..." Daria said, slowly, "second, he had me put into
a brothel for four years.  I could not leave.  I had many, many customers.
In four years...many, many customers."

   I was speechless with horror for the poor woman.  I patted her knee.

   "But, that was my punishment, and I deserved it for not watching out for
our daughter.  For letting this horrible injury ruin her for life," Daria
said, her voice sounding firmer.  "Anyway, that is the kind of man Viktor
is.  He loves Sonya and is very protective of her.  So when you meet him on
Wednesday, just be honest and be respectful.  You are doing very good to
make her happy, very, very good."

   "Thank you for telling me this," I told her, gently.  "It is helpful for
me to know that and to make sure I act properly on Wednesday."

   "Yes, I am sure you will.  Viktor will be good to you as long as you are
good to Sonya.  And I don't see any reason for you to worry," Daria said.
"And, also, Anthony, Viktor can be very generous when it will benefit
Sonya...so don't be surprised if he gives many gifts to you."

   "Really...?" I mused.

   "Oh, yes," Daria said.  "I didn't tell you that story about Sonya's
father to scare you."

   "Oh?" I laughed.  "Well, it did.  A bit," I admitted.

   "Actually, I told you that story to explain the real reason I asked you
to talk to me tonight," she said.

   "So, Sonya's father isn't the real reason," I said.

   "No," Daria said.

   Then she was silent for a few moments.

   "I love my daughter.  I spent those four years taking my punishment and
waiting to get out again to see her.  Viktor filed for joint custody when I
came home.  He has never referred to those years.  But he has never come
back, either.  But he was kind enough to let me stay in this house and let
me have my daughter back..." she said.  "It has been hard for her, to be
paralyzed.  To have to be in wheelchair all the time.  She has not had many
friends.  And you are the first boyfriend who has been patient with her. 
It's not easy to have to bring her wheelchair and lift her all the time. 
And boys - well, why go through all the trouble of having a handicapped
girlfriend?  They do not stay for long."

   Daria grabbed my hands in hers and looked me in the eye.

   "I am thankful to see my daughter so happy.  It is because of you.  I
have never seen her this happy since she was eight years old.  Almost a
decade...!" Daria said, her voice husky with emotion.  "I will do anything
to keep her happy."

   Daria had pulled my hands closer to her until they were clasped on her
lap.

   "Another reason Sonya's boyfriends leave her is because they cannot have
sex with her," she said, her eyes still locked with mine.

   I looked away, embarrassed.  I had been frustrated, as well, but I had
dealt with it as best I could.  Porn, lotion and my hand.

   "It is important, sex is important.  THAT I know.  Especially with young
men.  That is all that is on their minds, most of the time.  Sex, sex, and
more sex.  And if they can't have sex with Sonya, they will find it
somewhere else," Daria said, matter-of-factly.

   I was beginning to understand where she was going with all this.

   "I don't want her to lose YOU because of sex," Daria said.  "I learned
lots of things during those four years.  I became very good at pleasing my
customers.  I learned to enjoy my work, even."

   Daria pulled my hands toward her until they were under her night shirt
and pressed against the moist heat of her crotch.  She was not wearing
panties.

   "Sonya and I have talked about this.  She knows what I am offering to
you.  And why.  She agrees with me that it will be a good thing for you to
be able to have sex if you are my boyfriend.  Even if it is with me instead
of Sonya," Daria said.

   She was slowly grinding her pussy against my hand, now.  My cock was
fully hard, now, and straining against my jeans.

   "So, Anthony, I know it is my daughter that you care for...but would
this be an acceptable situation for you?  To have sex with me?"

   Oh, more than acceptable, I thought, lust clouding my thoughts.  But,
still, I couldn't do that.  Could I?  No, I couldn't do that.  I had to
decline.  I extricated my hands from between her thighs, regretfully.

   "Of course it would be acceptable, Mrs.  Lebedev - " I started.

   "DARIA," she insisted.

   " - Daria." I said.  "But I care about Sonya.  I don't HAVE to have sex
with her.  And you don't have to have sex with me to keep me seeing her. 
I've been here for the last three months - I'm not going anywhere.  I can
take care of myself.  You know..."

   Daria laughed, a throaty, sexy laugh that sent a chill down my spine and
electrified my groin.

   "Anthony, it is not a - umm, how do you say it?  - a SACRIFICE for me to
have sex with you.  It would be a pleasure for me as well as for you...I
don't offer this only because I feel that I HAVE to.  I also WANT to.  And
I am much better than you taking care of yourself," Daria said,
seductively. "Or, is it that you don't find me attractive?"

   "Of course I do," I said.  "You're very attractive.  And I would like
to, but -"

   "That's more like it," Daria interrupted, putting her fingers against my
lips.

   "Yes, but -"I said, before she shushed me again.

   Daria stood up in front of me and pulled her nightshirt over her head.
She stood completely naked only inches away.  Her breasts were large, but
firm, the pink tips perkily erect and pointing straight ahead.  Her waist
was small, just the barest hint of stretch marks to reveal she'd ever borne
a child.  Her hips were narrow, but voluptuously rounded.  Daria reached
for my hands again and this time, she placed them one upon each of her
breasts.  They did not fit in my hands, they were too big.  I felt her
nipples hardening even more under my palms.

   "Is nice, Anthony," Daria murmured, allowing me to caress her breasts a
little longer.

   Daria grabbed my hands again, pressing them against her breasts while
she sunk to her knees between my legs.  She released my hands and started
working my belt and pants.  In a moment, my rock-hard shaft popped out of
its restraints.

   Daria smiled at the sight.

   "Ah, you are very blessed, aren't you, Anthony?" she teased, grasping
the shaft cock in her right hand.  "A nice cock.  Eighteen years old, yes?
A very nice cock."

   Daria leaned down and I could feel her tongue move up and down my taut
skin, front, back, left, right, she lapped at my balls, then sucked them
into her mouth, slowly and lovingly.  I closed my eyes and let Daria work
her oral magic on me.  She was not kidding.  I felt sensations down there
I'd never even knew existed.  When she slipped the tip of her tongue into
my ass, I started and tried to scoot back, but she held unto my ass cheeks
and dove in even deeper.

   "MmmHhhmm," she mumbled into my backside.  Along with her comforting
strokes upon my buttocks, I figured she was trying to tell me to relax. 
So, I did.  And experienced such pleasure at the touch of her tongue and
lips on every inch of flesh down there that I was thought I'd died and gone
to heaven.

   Daria must have spent at least a half an hour servicing me with her lips
and talented tongue, bringing me to the brink of orgasm, then slowly
dialing it down again several times.  I barely knew my name by the time she
clambered atop my lap and lowered herself onto my shaft.  Immediately, the
muscles inside of her began rippling, lightning fast, upward then downward,
like a concert pianist performing arpeggios on the piano.  I gasped aloud
as her pussy squeezed and loosened its grip on my imprisoned cock.

   Finally, I could no longer stand the intense pleasure.  I gripped her
hips, stood up, turned around and placed her ass on the armchair, draping
her legs over my shoulders.  I thrust deeply inside of her grasping cunt,
each stroke harder than the one before.  I was gratified to hear her harsh
breathing, her incoherent words urging me on.

   Finally, she let out a long, rising moan and climaxed, her pussy pulsing
around my shaft and triggering my own orgasm.  I groaned loudly and pumped
my seed into Daria, shuddering as I filled her cunt with my sperm.  As I
emptied the last spurt of jism into her, I collapsed on top of her, our
bodies slippery, slick with sweat.

   The full length of my body was stretched out on Daria's tiny form as we
lie together, exhausted and breathless.

   I heard the familiar sounds of wheels crossing the floor.  I turned my
head to see Sonya approaching us.  Quickly, I slipped my flaccid cock out
of her mother's sopping pussy and sat up, smoothing my sweat-soaked hair
back from my face.  Next to me, Daria was also settling into a sitting
position and watching her daughter.

   Daria was telling me the truth, right?  Sonya was okay with me fucking
her mother?  The question, now, seemed ludicrous.  How could she be okay? I
scanned Sonya's face, but her expression was unreadable.  Sonya stopped
right in front of us.  I felt the need to babble out apologies and
explanations and throw myself at her mercy.

   "Sonya, I -" I began.

   Sonya reached out and grabbed my slimy, soft cock in her right hand,
squeezing it almost painfully in her grip.  She watched my reaction.

   She WAS angry...!  I felt remorse flood through me, and a deep anger
toward Daria began boiling in the pit of my stomach.

   "Are you really okay with this, Sonya?" I asked.  "I don't have to do
this, you know, and I still wouldn't leave you."

   Sonya said nothing, but she released her grip on my dick.  She slowly
raised her hand until it was in front of her face, palm inward, examining
the lust cocktail her mother and I had mixed.  I could see the sticky,
shiny fuck juices smeared across her hand.  Sonya brought her hand to her
nose and smelled it.

   "Gotcha!" she exclaimed, a smile breaking out on her face.

   I expelled my breath in relief, realizing I had been holding it while
gauging Sonya's reaction.

   "Of course I'm okay with it...hell, I wish you and I could have sex,
make love, fuck, whatever you want to call it.  I guess we can -but the
only one who would feel it is you...so...yeah, I'm truly fine with you and
Mom having sex.  Less messy.  And no catheter to worry about."

   Sonya wrinkled her nose in disgust.

   "Seriously, Sonya, I don't have to do this," I told her.  "I so
appreciate the kind offer, but I'd rather not do this if it hurts you."

   Sonya her tongue out at me.  Then, she put her hand to her mouth and
licked up our fuck juices, slowly, as if savoring the flavor.
   And grinned.