by Lucian Bane
“What setting?”
Cheryl startled again at the sudden answer, looking at the ceiling. There it was a speaker screen. Probably every room had one. “Low. To remove the wrinkles.”
“Setting the dryer to wrinkle remover.” The machine turned on and Cheryl couldn’t help her awe and intrigue. What all else could this system do? Maybe it could cook too.
She went to check out the rest of the house while waiting. The main door opened behind her and she gasped. “Ben!”
He entered in a chair only a different kind of wheelchair. Automated of course. She ran over to him as the door shut. “Wow,” he said, looking around before eyeing her in a way that reminded her of the shower.
“And wow!” she returned, gesturing to his ride. “The Ben mobile?”
He grinned. “It’s like a Cadillac for the handicap. Smooth as silk. Fully automated. Reclining seats that even massage and heat,” he chuckled.
She let go a huge gasp, covering her mouth in awe. “You think this is amazing? Wait till you see our bedroom and bathroom! And Charlie’s room!” She remembered with wide eyes. “How do you feel?”
“You didn’t kiss me, so, I guess terrible.”
She gave in to a huge smile and held on to the arms of the chair, lowering to his mouth. “Now, how’s the pain?”
“Mmmm.” He kissed her softly. “What pain?”
“Really?” she barely cried, smiling more and pulling back a little to see him.
“Really.” He studied her face, then her mouth. “This Dr. Wong is no joke.” He stroked her hair with his fingers, seeming to study the strands as he talked. “The first thing he did was gave me a shot of something that took the pain but not my ability to think. Then he drew blood, did scans, and asked a ton of questions.” His eyes slid to hers. “And talked about his wife.” He grinned with raised brows and Cheryl laughed, kissing him again.
“They are obsessed with each other,” she whispered, angling her head a little for his hungry kiss, giving an excited laugh as he pulled her into his lap.
“Show me the bedroom.”
She directed him to the glass doors down the hall, barely taking time to peek at Charlie’s room. Once in their master-suite he whistled.
“That whole wall is glass and it becomes clear when the sun comes up unless we tell the computer not to. Oh my God, that computer,” she said, pointing him to the right. “That way. That’s the bathroom. But that computer is so creepy! I feel like it’s watching.”
“We’re not in Kansas anymore, that’s for sure,” he said, coming to a shocking stop inside the bathroom.
Cheryl hopped off and giggled, showing him the automatic water with wide eyes then ran toward the shower area, waving him on.
She waited for him in the granite cave, bouncing up and down like an excited child when he rounded the corner. “Two showers. We can shower together after…the operation,” she said, biting her lower lip.
The heat in his eyes moving slowly over her stole her breath. She suddenly wondered if she could…make him feel good. “Did Dr. Wong say what you were allowed or…not allowed to do?”
His eyes made their way back up to hers. “He said that I should feel like a new man but not to live like one. No running or jumping, or risking injury.”
She covered her mouth in shock as he stood up from the chair. “And…he said I can even shower.”
Her heart suddenly plummeted and pounded between her legs as she watched him remove his t-shirt. Oh God, his body was beautiful. She’d grown to hate how beautiful in the latter, darker years. She hurried to him when his hands went to his pants. “Let me help. I don’t…want you to lose your balance.”
“You first,” he whispered, reaching for the hem of her shirt and raising it. His pace was hurried, and she helped him, her insides quivering at what they were doing. Before she could wonder over the steps or order of how this was going to work, he slid her bra straps off her shoulder. She helped him finish the job and decided to let him set the pace for a change. What a difference, them standing in a shower, seeing each other like this. They were like real lovers with real passion.
His breaths were unsteady as he stared at her breasts. The moment he raised his hands, she gave a gasp, knowing what was coming. She let go a desperate cry at the gentle glide of his fingers over her nipples. He answered with his own hungry moan, making her hot everywhere. “I’ve been thinking of this moment,” he whispered, back to undoing his pants. “Get naked.”
Oh God. “Let me,” she begged, hurrying to her knees and helping pull his pants down. She wanted to make sure he didn’t… “Oh Ben,” she whispered, staring at his hard cock in her face. He stepped out of his pants and she could only stare, her eyes fighting to get their fill. But the longer she stared, the more she had to see.
“Get naked,” he said again, this time his voice rough with desire. She hurried and stood, removing her jeans and tossing their clothes onto his chair. His arms came around her from behind, hugging her close to him. She closed her eyes at the hot connection of his skin against her, his hard cock wedged and pressing against her butt.
His hands covered both her breasts, squeezing, soft then harder, then sliding his fingers along her erect nipples. “Ben,” she gasped pushing into his hard on.
One hand left her breast and slid slowly over her stomach. The idea of what he was doing, what they were doing in the shower, had her panting with need. And hunger, so much buried hunger, in them both. The moment his fingers slid between her folds, she gasped in rapture and lifted her leg. His other hand was suddenly there, gripping her inner thigh and helping her hold everything open to him. His fingers were achingly tender over the slick skin, but his breaths were rough in her ear, edged with low groans, ragged and feral, a man tasting things for the first time.
“Finger me,” she begged, gliding her fingers over his hand between her legs.
He pressed his lips against her cheek, open and sucking as he slid his finger over her open slit.
“Yes, there, right there.”
He slid his finger in deep, stealing her breath then drew out and rubbed them all over her clit, bringing a round of shaky whimpers before sliding back inside her. His pace was leisure but everything else about him said he was anything but in control. Cheryl suddenly wanted him to make love to her in the shower. She eyed the bench sitting between the two areas and pushed out of his arms. She crawled on the bench and got on her hands and knees, lowering her chest and leaving her ass up.
“Cheryl,” he whispered, behind her, hands stroking eagerly over her ass. “What do you want? I want to hear it, I want to do it, I need to.”
“Make love to me,” she gasped, glancing behind her. “Hurry.”
He slid the head of his cock slowly along her silk, barely pushing as he did. One inch after another, he made his way inside her, the grip on her hips digging hard enough to leave a mark. It was new, so new and perfect that it cut her every breath with moans. She wanted to weep because of it, and for more.
“Ben, oh my God, oh…” The throb of his huge, buried cock and the sound of his pained groans astonished her, held her in a prison of such desperate desire. So much more, she needed so much more of that.
His fingers found her clit and it made her breaths catch and pussy clench down around him. He let go a sharp grunt, pulling out of her a little and pushing back in, turning her into a quivering mess.
“Ben! Please yes. Rub me.”
He hissed with his groan, his other hand sliding over her back until his fingers gradually curled onto her shoulder. He pulled her with a yank and pumped his hips, hitting her so deep she let go a scream of yes!
She was begging for more, calling his name in whimpers while holding on to the edge of the seat now.
He devoted his attention to her clit, his inexperienced exploration exactly the perfect pleasure that built her oh God oh God’s.
His struggle between the pleasure and attempt with unpracticed precision caused his fingers to bite into her shoulder. But
somehow that made it all better, hotter. It wasn’t long before Cheryl began to hear his control slipping as his pleasure built. He wasn’t a very vocal lover, never had been. But now, the sounds he made said he was feeling things new, stronger. Like her. He soon found coordination between his fingers on her clit and thrusting his hips.
His barely regulated coordination lassoed her orgasm until it burned and grew and reached for more. Then she was no longer chasing it. His hips thrust faster and harder, fingers a delicious death grip on her shoulder. She didn’t want it to end, the wet erotic sound of him slamming into her was unlike anything she’d experienced. She held on tight, so tight as her body gripped him with all its might, his fingers moving as fast as his cock now, a mad cyclone on her clit. She was so starved for it, she held on greedily to the overwhelming sensation of it all, forcing the pleasure to fill her to the very brim. And then he was growling and pounding with a fury, his orgasm sounding like torture, sending her over finally.
She couldn’t cry out, couldn’t make a sound at first. It gripped her, the most intense pleasure just bit down and locked her up, every muscle, every nerve as she clenched her eyes tight. Then somehow it got worse and better, and there was this other explosion in that explosion. And her mouth flew open with Ben's name blasting out on repeat, then God’s name, and Christ Jesus, and other heavenly beings before not so heavenly things followed, God forgive her! But she was pummeled! Her entire being pummeled into dust, only it was bright and shimmery!
Seemed like his was even more. It took a full minute for his hold to gradually loosen on her shoulder and slide softly over her back.
“Cheryl…” he finally gasped as if checking on her health.
“Ben…” was all she could answer back with, hoping the ecstasy of what he’d done came through her tone.
“I need to… sit,” he half whispered.
Panic sent her scrambling to remove herself off his still throbbing cock, so she could turn, and grab hold of him. She helped him sit, slowly.
He looked up at her, his bright blue eyes dazed, and his body covered in sweat.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
He struggled to catch his breaths, reaching for her. “I have you.” She wrapped her arms around his head as he pressed his face into her stomach, stroking his hair softly.
“Shower,” he whispered.
“Stay put, I’ll get it ready. I think you shouldn’t get up. I can move the bench and you can stay sitting,” she said, staring at the odd water spicket. The home computer. “Turn on the shower,” she said.
“What temperature?”
“Uh…eighty degrees.”
She jumped at the sudden spray of water hitting her. Moving aside, she felt the stream. “Turn the shower to eight-five degrees.”
“Turning the shower to eight-five degrees.”
“That’s better,” she said, glancing back at Ben. Her heart froze in her chest at finding his blue eyes burning on her.
Heat flooded her when he stood. Like a warrior making his last stand he walked toward her, a million degrees of lust burning in his eyes now locked on her breasts. He stood next to her, touching both her nipples like he needed to study them. “Shower,” he said to her. “I need to taste you. Everywhere.”
His eyes suddenly clenched shut and he gasped, bringing both hands to his head.
“Ben!” she whispered, holding his forearms. “You need to sit!”
His lips formed a hard line until he bared his teeth. He let out a strained groan. “I need…to fucking devour you, that’s what I need.”
Her body had never experienced so many potent emotions at once. It had her breathless and stupid, trying to compute simple things like figuring out what she needed to do, and what was right.
The sudden thought of him dying before the operation flooded her with clarifying panic. “You can do no such thing!” she shot out, leading him back to the seat. “You will sit, right now.”
He allowed her to walk him and pulled her into his lap when he sat. “Okay baby, I’m sitting.”
“Good,” she quipped around a sob, kissing his face. “No more Ben. I want this more than you can imagine, but I’m terrified I’ll lose you before…I’m just…”
“Okay.” He held her face and kissed her lips softly. “Okay no more. But after…I’m going to make up for the years we lost, you understand?”
She nodded, unable to stop her sob. “I know you will. And, so will I. I promise you.”
“Let’s check on Charlie. Dr. Wong said I can sleep on my side if there’s no pain. And tomorrow, we’ll start pre-operation procedures with the psychiatrist. You ready for that?”
She nodded. “I’m so ready,” she assured.
“Good. Me too.”
Preparing For a New Head
“And you must be Charlie!”
Charlie smiled with a nod at the man, glancing at his mom and dad. He was doing his best to hide his fears, but there were too many.
“Have a seat. I’m Dr. Lanthrop, but please call me David.”
He sat at a chair and they took seats on a couch diagonal from it. Charlie knew he was a shrink but the office they were in seemed more like a not so small living room. Nothing was small at the place though. Alice had shown him all around and it was as big as that library he’d visited in New York. A place you could get lost in. It was hard to concentrate on any of it with Alice flirting with him the entire time. He was sure she didn’t realize how obvious it was and that made it kind of comical. She was sweet. And he’d honestly never seen such a beautiful Chinese girl, much less met one for that matter. Her mother was beautiful too, but Alice looked more like her father who was beautiful too for a man.
“How do you like the place, Charlie?” he asked, making Charlie wonder why he was so focused on him.
He nodded with his, “Yes sir. I like it a lot.”
“Good,” he rejoiced like that was one of the most important things.
Charlie watched his mom and dad answer the same question, realizing this was just what his dad called blubber talk. The things you said before you said the things needed saying.
“Well,” the doctor said. “On the way here, I was able to study your written psychiatric evaluations. And I am incredibly pleased to report your entire family has scored extremely high, which is absolutely critical for such a procedure as you and your family are undergoing.” He looked at Charlie and gave a sly grin as though he’d read his mind. “Any procedure of this magnitude will have far reaching effects on not just the patient undergoing it, but the family as well. And that is precisely what we are here today to talk about.”
Charlie liked this man already. His British accent made him even more likeable.
“Charlie, is there anything you would like to talk about regarding the operation? Anything you’d like to ask, maybe?”
Charlie glanced at his dad and got an encouraging wink. He looked at the doctor, forcing his feet to stay flat on the floor, unmoving. “I don’t really like talking about it. I mean, I know it’s smart to talk, and you’re here to make sure I’m not thinking the wrong things. I am scared,” he said, feeling like he needed to let them know. “But I figure that’s normal, and so I remind myself it’s okay.” He eyed his dad briefly again. “My dad taught me that I have to be strong even when it’s scary. And that fear is healthy, but we don’t let it control us.”
The doctor gave a nice sounding laugh. “Well said, young man. Your dad is quite right about that. You seem like a very mature young lad and I will not keep the truth from you, no matter how hard or scary it may be to hear. But the good news is, we’re here; together, talking about it. As your dad said, fear is healthy if we don’t allow it to control us. The best way to keep that from happening is to talk about fears and not hide from them. And there are many fears to face with this operation Charlie, but we’ll face them together. Here. Me, your dad and your mom. As a team.”
The doctor turned his attention to his mom and dad now. “Under norma
l circumstances, we’d take longer than mere hours to prepare for such an endeavor, but as we know, due to the diseases’ aggression, we don’t have the luxury of that time.” He looked back at Charlie. “In essence, we are cramming for an exam of great magnitude and for that, I am prepared to do what I must to ensure all pass the tests sure to come. And to assure you,” he said, to his mom and dad now, “that I will remain with you through every step. We will work through all problems that arise.” He grinned at Charlie. “We will prepare to face the worst fears and hope for the best.”
Charlie nodded when he felt like the doctor wanted some kind of agreement.
He angled his head a little at his mom. “How are you doing Cheryl? This is truly a remarkable event; you must have a million emotions running about.”
His mom gave one of her loud laughs, the kind when she agreed with something a lot. “Maybe a billion. And at the same time, there’s this… strange peace? I hope that’s normal.”
“Honestly, I think anything you would feel at this point would be normal. Shock, fear, terror,” the doctor added, or suggested.
“Check.” His mom drew a check in the air with her hand before returning it to her side.
Charlie watched as she used her thumb to fidget with her wedding ring. She was nervous. For some reason, the idea brought many things up in him. Sadness, worry, and the need to do something that would stop it. But he’d have to know what she was worried about. And even if he did, there wasn’t much he could do except be an example of strength. And pray. Which he did non-stop already.
“What about you, Ben? Are you ready for this operation?”
“I am,” he said, sounding honest. Eager even.
Charlie listened, eager to hear how his dad felt. He’d not gotten to talk to him ever since the nightmare with the disease began and Charlie realized he craved to know that more than anything.
“The sooner the better, in fact,” his dad added.
“Glad to hear it,” the doctor said, sounding honest. “And in the spirit of that, I will get right down to business. The strong connection in your family is a relief. And with our healthy minds, we must allow ourselves to imagine the worst, in order to prepare for it.”