My Accident

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Adult Romance  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Andrew's dream comes true: at eighteen, he can buy a motorcycle. But it seems he made the wrong choice: he doesn't really master the motorbike he bought because of a lack of experience. The consequences are evident: he has an accident, and he needs medical and physio care...

My Accident

 

by Robur Quercus

 

Ever since I was 16, I dreamed of a motorcycle. My mother was completely against it. Finally, when I was of age, she stopped forbidding me to look for one. That was because my father supported me. He had also owned and enjoyed a 500cc Norton Commander for five years before he was married. Because I helped him well in the business by dragging buckets of paint and steel pipes to build scaffolding, he was very friendly to me. That's why on my eighteenth birthday, he gave me his permission to buy a motorcycle, as well as the money for that purchase.

At one point, I bought a second-hand motorcycle. In fact, it was not a good idea. Not a Harley Davidson as I initially thought, because that was an overpriced brand, even secondhand. I bought a used Suzuki 350 two-stroke twin cylinder. It was a very fast bike because the mechanic I bought it from had souped the bike up. The motorcycle also was nice to look at, with a large blue polyester tank of 27 liters, but it was capricious, stubborn, and dangerous. Sometimes the thing reacted too violently when I accelerated. Also, I had never even owned a moped, so I had no experience with a fast motorcycle.

 

A few times, I almost had an accident. In Welland, I drove into a hole in the road on the way to Shortbridge. I had to jump off the bike, and it plowed through the front yard of a retired couple. And another time, in Gorebend, I had to flatten it again to avoid hitting a tractor. I got away with it twice unscathed. The second time I was left with a sore elbow.

 

 

 

It couldn't keep going well. One day, I was driving on Saint-Troyan Road. In Alking, I had to slow down a lot at the intersection with the road to Stoneford. At the Shell petrol station, a car drove from a driveway onto the main road. I braked hard and shifted lower. Suddenly, the Suzuki's left piston got stuck in the cylinder. It probably overheated due to a lack of lubrication. This caused the rear wheel to lock up. It had just the same effect as if I had slammed on the brakes. I was catapulted over the bike and hit the left mirror with my scrotum. Something like that hurts a lot because, as you may know, testicles are very sensitive.

I was lying there on the road moaning with pain, and my Suzuki was at least thirty yards away. A few people came running up to me. They helped me get back on my feet, but I struggled to stay upright. A driver with a van full of Bridgestone tires took me to a doctor nearby, Dr. Albert Gore on Station Street. There, Dr. Gore helped me take off my pants and underpants because I couldn't do it alone, I was in so much pain. He then examined my penis and my scrotum. My penis was fine. My left testicle was hit hard by that rearview mirror. It was at least twice as big as before. My scrotum was also swollen on the left side and had turned dark blue. The doctor gave me an injection with a painkiller and also a sedative.

Dr. Gore had no good news for me. Medically there wasn't much to do except put a bag of ice cubes or crushed ice on the left side of my scrotum, and maybe a gentle massage would help too. He assured me that once the swelling had subsided, I wouldn’t be affected by my accident. The doctor was wrong. Even today, so many years later, my left testicle is still a lot thicker than my right. I don't mind because it doesn't hurt if I don't press on it or don't put on too tight pants. But my accident had very unpleasant consequences for about a year and a half. Although, maybe it was just a flare-up of a problem I had a few years before…

 

I wasn't aware of it at first. In the weeks after my accident, I didn't even think about sex. To be treated according to Dr. Albert Gore's advice, I went every day to a self-employed physiotherapist's house on Old Cork Road. Vera Thornby was married and had two children. She was a woman with long dark dyed hair that fell to her shoulders. Even when she was over forty years old, she still looked sexy and beautiful. First, Vera put crushed ice packs on my scrotum, as Dr. Gore had said. It helped: the pain was gone after three or four days. Not the swelling, but I was glad I wasn't in pain anymore. Vera wasn’t satisfied with the results of the compresses. She had a large jacuzzi in her practice. In the bubbling water, I had to hold my scrotum as close as possible to a nozzle. After I had undergone that water massage for ten minutes, I had to lie down on a lounger. Then Vera started gently massaging my scrotum with a product that smelled very strongly. The glass bottle that contained the liquid read “Embrocatio”. I suspect the product contained camphor. Needless to say, that massage, which again lasted about ten minutes, had a predictable result: after a while, my cock stiffened and stood up like a flagpole. Vera didn't say anything about it and pretended not even to see my cock ready for action.

After a week, Vera stopped massaging with the strong-smelling liquid.

 

It's going well, Andrew,” she said. “The swelling in your scrotum has already decreased.”

 

I didn't think so, but I didn't contradict the physiotherapist. Then, I had a massage with a very expensive product that came from France. It was called "Crème de Jouvence" and the producer was Jean d'Avès. This treatment from Vera made me feel much better than the first. It certainly also had to do with the smell of the product. It was definitely exciting and had a strong erotic effect on me. My cock was sticking up all the time and I really wanted to fuck Vera, but I didn't dare ask her. What I didn't know was that Vera wanted to do it with me too. She was a woman of the world and she made no apologies for how she felt.

 

One day I arrived at her house and she greeted me in a beautiful summer dress that she had unbuttoned at the front. She wasn't wearing a bra. As a result, her left breast was hanging out.

 

"Would you like to fuck me, Andrew?" she asked with a smile before starting the usual massage of my scrotum. "Your dick is always ready, you can't deny that."

 

I wanted to, and I was still shy to tell her. Vera had noticed this with her feminine intuition, and she didn't mince her words:

 

We’ll go into the jacuzzi together, both naked. I'll take care of your scrotum in the water first, Andrew,” she said. “After that, we can lie down on a towel next to the jacuzzi and arouse each other. If we're both excited enough, we'll have sex at our leisure. My husband is working in Tungerine and the children are at school. "

 

What she said took my breath away. I didn't know what to say to her. Vera saw me hesitate and said:

 

Don't think you're the first with whom I cheat on my husband, dear Andrew. I do that regularly. My husband can't give me what I need in bed. If I let another man fuck me, I don't feel guilty at all."

 

After kissing and caressing each other for five minutes next to the jacuzzi, we went to her youngest daughter's room and lay down on her bed. Vera immediately opened her legs for me. She had a lovely pussy, I thought, with nice small labia and she had partially shaved it. There was still very little pubic hair on her mussel. It wasn't the first time I saw a woman's cunt. So, I could compare and when I saw Vera's beautiful almost hairless pussy, my cock was immediately erect. I started playing with Vera's breasts again. They weren't the biggest tits I'd ever seen, but still impressive, with small pink nipples. Vera's tits were still nicely shaped, pleasant to touch, stroke, and kiss. I wanted to shove my erect cock into Vera's slit. Her cunt was now swollen and soaked with her lust juice. Vera was ready for me, I could easily shove my dick into her fuck hole...

That didn't happen. I got the same thing going on with Cathy Thompson back then. I thought my problem had since been solved, but it wasn't at all. Even before my stiff cock touched Vera's labia I squirted my cum away. Some of it ended up on her thigh, some in her pubic hair. Vera immediately sat up on the bed. I could tell from her face that she was deeply disappointed, just as Cathy Thompson had been back then. Not only that, but she also had to wash my milky white cum off her thigh first. She struggled to erase all traces of our failed fuck.

Vera was my physiotherapist and she liked me at the time. She didn't blame me for my premature ejaculation. According to her, it had to do with the traumatic shock my testicles got when they hit the rearview mirror of my motorcycle. She could be right, but I thought maybe it was a genetic abnormality with me, that premature ejaculation, and that it had nothing to do with my motorcycle accident. Vera thought my problem would be temporary. She even wanted us to keep having sex regularly. That was not like with Cathy Thompson who had immediately dropped me like a stone after my failure to fuck her…

But it all ended as could be expected. One day, after five or six attempts to fuck her and as many failures, Vera told me:

 

Andrew, you have to understand me. I'd rather not have sex with you anymore. I want to be honest with you: I'm looking for a man who can last longer and take the time to fuck me. And at least once out of three times, he has to manage to make me cum.”

 

After the massages that Vera gave me I still hadn't seen any real results. As I said, years later I still have a left testicle that is noticeably larger than the right. My disappointing experience of wanting to fuck Vera left a kind of trauma on me. So, I tried out some other girls to see if my premature ejaculation would happen with them too. In the meantime, finding a willing partner was no real problem for me. I had enough success going to the Zulu Bar on the corner of Campine Road, or to the Milestone Disco in Saint-Troyan. But keeping a sweetheart for more than a few weeks was a different story. Like Vera, they expected me to make them come while I fucked them. I never managed to do that in those days, not even once. I didn't time it, but I don't think it ever took more than one minute or two at most to inject my cum into her pussy when I was having sex with a girl. At least, if I hadn't shot my cum on her legs or her belly before...

I didn't know how to keep a woman under these circumstances. Some left me after I fucked them once. Some of them gave me a second chance after the first time. They quickly realized that I had a big problem with premature ejaculation. So, I wasn't allowed to fuck them more than three or four times. Then, they started looking for another partner who could give them what their body needed sexually.

 

In that whole situation, I felt worse and worse. I should really say that I was feeling quite pessimistic and unhappy. During the time of my problem with Cathy Thompson, I had a lot of support from my sister Flo. That had helped then. Now I kept silent to her, and I didn't tell my parents about my problem either. I realized that they couldn't help me and that I had to seek professional help. The first person I shyly spoke to about my ejaculation problem was our primary care physician, Dr. Wagonman. He said I'd better see a sex therapist. Maybe he could find a solution for my premature ejaculation. So, without my parents’ or anyone else’s knowledge, I made an appointment with Dr. Anita Blessinger. She lived in Milfering near Saint-Troyan, a stone's throw away from Sancta Maria, the psychiatric hospital. In her "Practice for Healthy Sexuality", she treated people with problems in the field of sexual functioning…

 

© Robur Quercus, 2022

 


Submitted: September 28, 2022

© Copyright 2023 Robur Quercus. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Spyguy

So now you have us hooked.... ?

Thu, September 29th, 2022 6:49am

Author
Reply

Haha, I hope so... There will be sequels. :-)

Wed, September 28th, 2022 11:50pm

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