Note from the author: One of the characters in this story has autism.
I’m not doing this to exploit her, make fun of her, or earn brownie points. The plot requires someone with specific characteristics, and she fits the bill.
I could have chosen a non-autistic person, but why should I have to? I’ve written stories about left-handed people, hairy women, blacks, whites, guys with small dicks, etc… I see no reason to make autistic characters off-limits.
She will be treated with the respect I give to all my characters. I will show her strengths. I will not hide or gloss over her weaknesses.
Oliver Cromwell is reported to have told the artist about to paint his portrait, ‘Paint me as I am, warts and all’.
That is my approach. No one gets a free pass. If seeing an autistic woman held accountable for her words, actions, and sexual decisions will upset you, you should pass on this story.
^^^
“It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” Cliff murmured in a voice so low no one heard him.
He was in the hospital delivery room with his daughter-in-law and her team of caregivers. The mother-to-be looked like a marathon runner nearing the finish line. She was hot, sweaty, and noisily sucking air in through her mouth. She looked exhausted.
“Here we go,” the doctor said. “One final push.”
The doctor delivered the baby, checked it, and handed it to a nurse. After a quick cleaning, the nurse wrapped the child in a towel and held her up for Scarlett to see.
“YOU have a beautiful baby girl!” the nurse said enthusiastically. She placed the baby on Scarlett’s chest.
Mom managed to smile as she looked at her offspring.
Cliff was escorted out of the room. The staff did the rest of the things that needed to be done.
Three hours later, he was allowed to visit the mother and child. Scarlett looked better. She had rested and showered. She was sitting up in bed and holding the infant in her arms.
When she saw Cliff, she said, “Little Gwen is adorable, but this is not how it was supposed to be.”
“I know.”
^^^280 days before^^^
Cliff stood naked in his bathroom.
The fit fifty-three-year-old man gargled and spat the mint mouth rinse into the sink. He looked into the mirror, grabbed his comb, and ran it through his thick sandy-colored hair.
He picked up a bottle of cologne. It was a gift from his deceased wife. “No. That wouldn’t be right,” he said, and he put it down.
He opened the door and stepped into his bedroom. A young woman was waiting for him. The petite brunette lay naked on freshly washed sheets.
He looked her over.
She was less than half his age. She was pretty. Her long straight hair reached two inches below her shoulders. It wasn’t long enough to cover her breasts. He got a good view of her modest, distinctly feminine set. She had a mass of black pubic hair between her slim thighs.
Neither spoke.
He walked up to the bed and stood there with his limp dick hanging out. He looked nervous and ill at ease.
She looked at his flaccid cock, rolled onto her stomach, and crawled to him. She grabbed his prick and gave him head.
“Damn!” he murmured. He said to himself, “She’s good at this. If cock-sucking or sex is one of her areas of intense interest, I’m in for a great night.”
His eyes drifted down to her small, firm butt. He leaned over and patted it.
It didn’t take her long to get him hard. When he had a firm erection, she flipped around, got on her hands and knees, and presented her ass to him.
He noticed her slit glistened, and the pubes around her labia were wet. He thought, “I didn’t cause that. She must have masturbated while I was in the bathroom.” He took his wet cock and slid it inside the attractive young woman.
“Ahhh,” they sighed.
She pushed her butt into him and claimed all of his dick. She rocked into him. He started to thrust.
The bed squeaked, and the sound of heavy breathing filled the room as they had sex.
“Oh, God!” he moaned. He grabbed her hips and drove his dick into her faster and more forcefully. He ejaculated and filled her with his spunk before she achieved an orgasm.
She put her head on the bed and maintained contact with him until his dick shriveled and slipped out.
He sat on the bed.
She rolled over, sat beside him, and said, “See you tomorrow.” She got up and walked out of the room.
^^^
The following evening Cliff was naked and in bed waiting for his paramour. He had placed some pillows against the headboard and reclined against them.
She entered the room, slipped a soft robe off her shoulders, and let it fall to the floor.
“Wow,” Cliff said as she saw her nude lithe body. Her dusky-colored nipples were hard.
She climbed into bed, grabbed his cock, and said, “You’re hard.”
“Yes. Sorry about yesterday. I was nervous.”
She released his penis, got on her hands and knees, and swung her hips around so he could take her doggie-style.
“Wait,” he said. “I know we agreed there’d be no kissing. Can I suck on your breasts? Please climb on top of me, ride me, and let me enjoy your boobs.”
“You want to suck my nipples?”
“Yes. I’d like it very much.”
“Okay.”
She spun around. She sucked his dick long enough to wet it so penetration would be easier. She straddled the sandy-haired man, and impaled herself, going slowly.
“Mmm,” she moaned as she took his cock inside her.
“Oh!” he gasped.
She leaned forward and placed her hands on the headboard. Her breasts were near his face.
Cliff extended his neck and suckled on her stiff peaks. His lips kissed and explored the soft flesh of her breasts and nursed on her hard nips. He lay still and focused on her twin feminine treasures as she bounced on his cock.
They stopped when he came inside her.
^^^The next night^^^
Cliff opened the bedroom door and stepped inside.
“I am not ready,” the young brunette protested.
She was on the bed, naked, and her right hand was in between her legs.
Cliff came to her. She looked at him wide-eyed. He gently grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand out of her crotch.
“I am not wet enough for intercourse,” she stated.
“There is another way to prepare you,” he said.
He sat on the bed, lowered his head to her sex, and licked it.
“No. That is too intimate.”
He stopped, looked at her face, and said, “I am an old man. May I know the pleasure of tasting you? It will achieve your goal, and prepared us for what comes next.”
She considered his words and nodded.
Cliff breathed deeply, inhaling her scent, and brought his lips and tongue to her gash.
“Oh,” she moaned softly.
He feasted on her sex, enjoying the aroma, savoring her tart flavor, and loving the small sounds she made as his tongue caressed her clit. He stayed there longer than necessary to prepare her for penetrative sex.
He brought her to the brink of orgasm, stopped, and quickly climbed on top of her. He thrust his organ inside her.
“Ohh!” they cried out.
She clutched him. She wrapped her arms around his back, raised her legs, and hooked them around his ass. She pulled him to her as she thrust her sex against him.
“Oh, oh, oh,” she grunted as they rutted.
“Ohhhh!” she hollered as she came.
“Ahhh!” he exclaimed and filled her pussy with his sperm. He collapsed on top of her.