A Run-in With Lindsay Lohan

 It was a good day for a walk: sun, but not too hot, no wind, just a very pleasant day. With nowhere in particular in mind I roamed the streets, going wherever I pleased. In hindsight, I probably should have looked over my shoulder more carefully before crossing the street – a quick glance proved not to be enough when I was suddenly hit by what felt like a tank. They say I rolled over the car and subsequently the street but I can’t remember any of that.

I don’t really remember anything between feeling the impact and feeling my arm being set before a cast was applied. That hurt. After that it’s all a blur again though, until after I woke up a day or maybe two later, in a fresh clean hospital bed with no cards or flowers around me. It wasn’t long before a nurse came to check on me. She seemed pleased that I had woken – apparently I had been in quite a bad shape. Still was.

“We couldn’t locate any family,” was the first thing she said after asking if I knew my name and where I was. “Yeah,” I said, mesmerizingly, wondering whether I should just say I didn’t have any, or explain the whole complicated mess. I decided to go for the ‘no family’ explanation.

After a visit from the doctor there were two very kind policemen asking me if I had seen anything. The driver of the car that ran me over hadn’t stopped. They didn’t expect me to know anything, but there were no witnesses who had written down the number plate or anything concrete, and while some witnesses claimed it to be a big, dark car, others were sure it was a light sedan. Unfortunately I could only side with the people who had claimed it was big and dark. And I could be wrong.

Most of the days I slept. I didn’t really know my condition, it didn’t really matter ’cause there was nothing I could do about it. Sometimes nurses or doctors would come in and adjust something or replace an IV-bag.

Then one evening – I think it was evening, anyway – I had a visitor. A small girl, 5’5″ or thereabout with long, blond hair wrapped into a bunch. She was slender, appeared to be a little anxious. I wondered what she wanted, but I didn’t want to ask. “You awake?” she finally asked with a thin voice. “Hmm,” I mumbled, to my own surprise: I had actually meant to say something.

She came nearer, grabbed the glass of water by my bedside and held it for me to drink from. “How are you?” she said, as nervous as before. I didn’t know, but this was a good time to find out. I looked at my left arm, it was suspended but didn’t have a cast like my right arm did.

One of my legs, too, was in a cast. I tried to shrug my shoulders to the girl but that, of course, was a bad idea. A jolt of pain went thought my left shoulder. Probably had been dislocated, I thought – a broken clavicle I heard later. “Not so good,” I croaked. “Do you know who ran you over?” she inquired next. I wiggled my head a little in an effort to shake no.

“I should probably go then…” she said after a brief pause. I didn’t immediately know what she meant but it slowly came to me. “Wait a minute…” I said, “You’re the one that ran me over?” She looked down and removed her sunglasses. “I didn’t mean to,” she stammered. It was only when she looked up again, without her sunglasses, that I recognized her.

“Lindsay Lohan?” I said amazed. “You… you hadn’t recognized me yet?” she said. She hesitated between turning around and staying, but then, realising probably that there was no escape anymore, decided to stay.

“OK,” she said, “I’ll do anything you want, but if you tell this to anyone my career is over, hell, my life will be over.” I looked at her, pondering what to do. She really was beautiful, it occurred to me. Anything I wanted, she had said. And then, it must have been the pain medication talking because on my own I would never have come up with so bold a thought, I said, “I want you to be my private nurse.”

She didn’t respond at first. Then, very slowly, she seemed to realise what I had asked, and how odd my request was. “Nurse? Me?” “I get out of hospital in a few days, provided I have someone to care for me. It won’t require much medical knowledge, just helping me get around,” I explained. She didn’t know what to say. “And that’s all?” I nodded, “Help me back on my feet and we’ll be even.” She hesitated a little longer, but then accepted. Had she known about the plan that was growing in the back of my mind, she probably wouldn’t have consented. Then again, she didn�t have much choice.

Two days later I was discharged. Lindsay came to pick me up, a headscarf and huge sunglasses covering as much of her face and hair as possible. With some effort she helped me from the wheelchair into her car and set off for my house. There she helped me back in the wheelchair and a week after the accident I was home again.

With an arm and a leg in a cast, and the other arm rendered inactive as well, there wasn’t much I could do. So Lindsay helped me into my comfortable chair, where I quickly fell asleep.

When I woke, Lindsay was still there, though I imagined she had taken the time to look around the house: when I asked for some food and drink, she went to the kitchen without hesitation.

She quickly got used to her tasks. She stayed with me during nights, I figured people must have been wondering where she was. Maybe she had let her manager know but I doubt he’d find it a very good idea. She could have just said she was on a vacation for a while of course, and couldn�t be reached.

Lindsay would help me out of bed, wash me and dress me in a gown. After a few days I was getting used to me limitations and learned to work around them a little, and of course I was recuperating as well, so bit by bit I was able to move around again. Nothing impressive yet though.

After a week I decided to execute my plan. “I sometimes rent a porno video on Saturdays,” I said to Lindsay. She didn’t respond. “Except that today of course I can’t, and since you are here to do things for me…” I continued. Her eyes widened now that she understood what I meant. “I can’t go out renting porn!” she exclaimed, “People would recognize me, I couldn’t take the publicity.” The reaction I had hoped for: “You don’t have to go if you can provide an alternative,” I said. “Like… internet?” “I was thinking more like a live show,” I replied.

Her eyes grew large again. “You want me to… get naked for you?” “And put on a little bit of a show,” I added. Lindsay was speechless. “I could still go to the police,” I said. She realised I was being serious and without uttering another word she gave in, and started unbuttoning her shirt. “Don’t forget the show,” I said, and Lindsay started swaying her hips a little. I could feel my cock stirring.

Lindsay looked at me and started dancing like a stripper, sensually, seductive. “You’ve done this before?”

“Yes,” she replied, “some audition once.” She unbuttoned her shirt further, exposing her bra-clad breasts. She dropped her shirt to the floor and started with her pants.

My cock grew hard as I saw her panties appear above the waistband. She turned her back to me and, as she bent forward, slid her pants down further.

My gown slipped open, exposing my erection. It was the first thing Lindsay saw when she turned to me again. “Like what you see?” she asked, having cast aside her pants. I nodded. She turned around, giving me a good look at her curvy figure, then bent down to pick her clothes up.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Show’s over, isn’t it?”

I shook my head, “In what porno films do they keep their underwear on?”

Again she stared at me, but this time she didn’t protest. She reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, then slowly let the straps slip off her shoulders. With her hands she was now holding the bra to her body. She hesitated for a few seconds, then she started doing her stripper dance again before lowering the bra down, exposing her large, full breasts.

Her dark nipples, surrounded by their small areolas, were standing erect. She was enjoying this, it occurred to me. She dropped her bra to the floor and turned her back to me again. She squatted down, her ass stretching the fabric of her panties, then rose again. She hooked her thumbs in her waistband and wiggled her hips.

“You really know how to get a man hard,” I told her. She looked over her shoulder, saw my throbbing hard-on and smiled. With her back still turned she slipped her panties down over her full hips. She stepped out of them, holding them in her hand, and turned back to me. For the first time I saw her neatly trimmed pubic hair, a small ginger triangle pointing down towards her sex.

She threw her panties at me and smiled again. “Enjoy?” I nodded eagerly, “And from the looks of it you enjoyed it as well.” She blushed, and again bent over to pick her clothes up. I cleared my throat, Lindsay looked up. “It was a good show,” I said, “but in porno they do more than take their clothes off.”

“W-what do you mean?” she asked hesitantly.

“I want to see you masturbate,” I told her.

She dropped the pants she had just picked up and stared at me for a while. “In that chair,” I said and pointed to the chair across from me. She looked at it, then back to me, then sat down. “It’s just, I don’t get an opportunity to see a woman as beautiful as you in her full naked glory that often,” I said, as if to defend myself for making her do this. She smiled at the compliment, and I wondered more and more if what I was asking her to do was really against her will.

She sat down, or rather almost laid down, and opened her legs, giving me a good look at her soft pink pussy. Her long, red hair waved over her shoulders down to her breasts. She brushed it aside and started massaging those beautiful full globes, squeezing them, circling her fingers around her areolas, pinching her nipples. She then put one leg over the armrest of the chair, opening her pussy even further. She started sucking on a finger, then slowly trailed it down her body.

She circled her clit a few times, glancing at me while doing so. My cock was as hard as it had ever been, bouncing lightly with my pulse. She smiled and spread her pussy lips, then worked her finger inside. With one hand still stroking and squeezing her breast she now began to finger-fuck herself. Slowly, very slowly, she massaged her pussy, her clit, her labia. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

The insides of her pussy were glistening with moisture, I could see, while two of her fingers now pistoned in and out of it. She moaned a little, squirmed, and increased the pace. Her eyes were closed, her mouth hanging open – I doubted if she was even aware of my presence anymore.

Her second hand now joined the first, stimulating her clit while the other was still fucking her pussy. She was writhing and panting when suddenly she screamed, her back arched and she pushed her hips onto her fingers while her orgasm washed over her.

“That didn’t take you long,” I remarked when she had calmed down and opened her eyes again. She smiled, “I always cum quickly, and I can�t say that little striptease hasn’t excited me a little. I laughed.

She got up and walked towards me, then dropped down beside me. “I imagine you usually jerk off when you look at porn,” she said with a mischievous smile, and took my cock in her hand. “I do.” “But that’s a little difficult now, so I guess that’s one more thing I have to help with,” she said and started pumping her hand up and down.

“Ohhhhhh Lindsay!” I groaned. She let go of my dick and twisted her hair in a bunch behind her head. Just as I was wondering why, she grabbed my cock again, leaned forward and took it into her mouth. Her hand gently massaged the shaft while she licked the tip, fluttering her tongue across the glans. I groaned again, and she moved from licking to sucking while still pumping the shaft. She sucked hard, bobbing her head up and down, and after her striptease and masturbation show I couldn’t hold out any longer.

I placed my right hand on her head as I grunted and came into her mouth. I don’t think she expected me to cum so fast, or so hard. She tried to pull back her head but grip on her was too strong. Load after load I shot against the back of her throat. I could hear her gagging and gurgling, trying to cope with all of my cum.

When I was spent I felt her saliva and my cum dribbling onto my belly. She held my cock in her mouth, to my surprise, continuing to lick and suck it. When she was done, she started licking up the cum that had fallen out of her mouth.

Finally, she looked up, smiling, “I love the taste of cum, I just hadn’t expected so much of it, or so soon.”

“Wouldn’t have been as much if you hadn’t gotten me so hard,” I replied.

“Glad I did then.”

With that she got up again. After she had dressed herself she helped me up and to bed. Knowing that my casts wouldn’t come off for another few weeks, I slept very well that night.