by Jamie Knight
“How so?” mom asked, feigning innocence.
“Working on my cabin, mostly.”
“You own a cabin?”
“And the property it’s on and some adjoining ones. I've got several acres up in the mountains. It came with a larger cabin and I've had a few smaller ones built for guests and to work on my projects.”
“What kind of projects?” Mom asked, seeming genuinely interested.
“Woodworking, mostly. Though I'm thinking of converting one for my day job.”
“Come now, don't leave me in suspense,” mom teased.
“I design and build prosthetics for people who have lost limbs. Mostly through accidents or combat. I hope to expand to folks who are born without them, but that’s harder than being able to connect to the existing nerves.”
“Golly! That’s impressive.”
“I did my own actually,” Sawyer said.
“Your own what?”
“My own prosthetic,” Sawyer said, getting up and putting his foot on the chair so he could pull up his pant leg and show her.
That was about the time mom ran out of words, just staring at Sawyer mutely. I could see where she was coming from, having had a similar reaction the first time I saw it. It wasn't every day you saw a real-life cyborg. Especially not one that was self-made and sexy.
“Th-that's amazing.”
“Thanks,” Sawyer said, ever the picture of humility.
He sat back down, getting back to his plate, leaving mom and me to talk in peace. Mom winked at me. It was part of our private code, perfected over the years, and it let me know that she not only approved of Sawyer but also really liked him. I hadn’t really had any doubts, but still, I was very glad that he was here with me and that he was such a hit with my remaining family.
Chapter Sixteen - Sawyer
I always thought that funerals were too sad to attend. A lot of crying people packed together into a church, in the presence of God, so that they wouldn't be sad alone, just made me feel even sadder.
But of course, I would do whatever was necessary to make Anne feel better, so I was here with her even though I didn’t normally attend. Plus, the normal funeral traditions that other people followed were apparently lost on Anne's family.
For starters, it wasn't just family. I doubted it was open invitation but everybody and their brother seemed to be there, including several of the deceased business partners who spoke about him as though he was their brother as opposed to their colleague.
I knew that funerals were generally meant to be complimentary, it being a long-standing superstition not to speak ill of the dead, as though the spirit of the deceased might come back and haunt them. They gain I was twelve before I realized that Poltergeist wasn't actually a documentary, so I wasn't really one to judge.
From the stories being told by all and sundry, Anne's dad was close to a living saint. I would have been more skeptical were it not for the consistency of the given narrative and the evidence shown in the person Anne had grown up to be. As well as how hard she was taking his death.
I had heard the expression “your grief speaks well for them,” but had yet to have seen such a stark example of it. I was starting to miss him a bit too and I hadn't even met him. Though he seemed like the sort of guy I would have really hit it off with, from what everyone else was saying.
Anne still seemed a little off, despite seeing to settle into the whole situation. I put an arm around her to remind her I was still there and that she could rely on me if she needed to. Anne hummed softly and lay her head on my shoulder and sighed as her mother and I talked.
“I'm really happy to have Anne,” her mom said, “people always asked us when we were going have more children, but I was really happy with the one that I had. I still am, even though she's not a child anymore.”
“She'll always be your child, though,” I pointed out.
“Yes, that is true. Even at that time, my life seemed totally complete and you know when you're done having children. It’s like an instinct.”
“I hear you. I don't really want kids, stopping before I've even started. It just seems right.”
“Oh? Why is that?” her mom asked out of interest
I was about to say because the accident that took my leg made me realize that if I was to die I wouldn't be there to support my kids or family and didn't want to put that kind of burden on the mother of my children and decided it was probably safer not to have kids at all. But suddenly I didn't feel right saying that. The accident which had changed me forever, both physically and mentally, was a bit too close to what had just happened to Anne's dad.
I didn't want to upset her or her mother, who seemed like a really lovely woman and not as much older than me as I would have thought. Instead, I decided to give the other reason, which was also true, so that I wouldn't have to actually lie.
“I prefer a solitary life. It isn't that I don't like kids; I just can’t imagine having them around me all the time. That's why I have the guest houses at the mountain property. I prefer to keep my own company, for the most part. I just can't have energetic kids running around all the time. Particularly living where I do. Wouldn't want the little tyke trying to play with coyote pups or discovering a long-forgotten bear trap.”
“That sounds like my Anne. She always says she is too busy having fun and following her career dreams to have kids. There was a time when I tried to change her mind, telling her how much fun it could be, though if I'm honest it was also partly selfish because I wanted grandkids so much. I've given up though. Not so much because I'm sick of the argument as much as I've realized I should let her live her own life just like I did. It seems like you two are perfect for each other, right down to not wanting kids.”
“That's certainly what I thought,” Anne said with a laugh, “I used to work a lot and wanted to advance in my career as quickly as possible. Something that didn't really leave a lot of time for raising little one. I don't want to be one of those moms who has to work all the time and hiring other people to raise her kids. At least not until they are old enough to go to school. Then the government more or less insists.”
“Ain't that the truth,” her mom said, nodding her head.
“The thing is, I've been kind of rethinking my life choice. Including a serious questioning of my career. I'm on an extended sabbatical right now and have a lot more time than I ever thought was possible.”
“It's good to give yourself time. Particularly when considering something so important,” her mom said, “and particularly now that you’re suffering such a big loss. Grief changes everything about our lives, like it or not.”
“I'm sort of glad I don't have kids to support while I'm going through this. It wouldn't be good for anyone, really. I just need to take time off and be able to think in peace and solitude about what it really is that I want to do,” Anne said, sounding very wise.
“I believe they call that a quarter-life crisis, dear,” her mom replied.
“Did you have one?” Anne asked.
“Oh, of course, I think everyone does to some degree. Rare is the person who has their college major picked out in elementary school and even then, it doesn't always work out the way you plan.”
“Things rarely do,” I agreed.
“Though, sometimes, the things that happen instead are the good stuff. The stuff that can change your life for the better and that you later look back on happily even though it hadn’t been part of your plan. The highlights of the replay just before you die.”
“Don't get morbid, ma.”
“Morbid? At a funeral? Heaven forbid!”
We all laughed. It was good to hear Anne laugh again. She had been so somber since she came up to the mountain.
I'd always seen her as a positive, optimistic person. It really shocked me to see her in such a bad way. I only hoped I could help her find her happier self again.
In the positive column, she seemed to be doing bette
r, especially considering how she had been that morning. I knew she dreaded going back to the city, but she really needed to go to the funeral, and I knew she would regret it the rest of her life if she didn't.
Still, I was planning to get her right to the car and back up the mountain as soon as we left. Her mom also seemed to like me, which was good because I liked her too.
For some strange reason, I thought about marrying Anne and having her mom as my mother-in-law. That was a surprising and sudden idea, but one that I didn't mind at all.
I hoped I didn't make Anne uncomfortable by saying I didn't want kids. I thought she seemed to understand, but it was hard to tell. It was an awkward situation I had found myself in, having to explain only part of the truth to her mom when I was kind of on the spot, and it seemed that she didn’t really know what she wanted, either.
There was so much that was changing because of the death of her father and maybe not all of them were for the better. I could understand her wanting to improve herself, even respect it. I just hoped she didn't leave too much of herself behind.
Despite thinking I myself had never wanted kids, to my surprise, I was a bit sad that Anne didn't want to have kids. I could imagine us having a kid together. Probably just one but still, it could be nice.
I told myself not to worry so much about my sudden change of mind, which probably wouldn’t last. It was probably just sentimentality. I had started thinking a lot differently myself since Anne came into my life.
Once we bid farewell to her mom and her friend Sophia, we left the funeral and the city and drove back home. That’s what I had started to consider it – Anne’s and my home.
I carried Anne up the path to the cabin. She was a bit too drained to try doing it herself and I was concerned about her fall, the Oxford shirt dress not offering much in the way of protection. She rested her head against my chest and looked contented enough.
Once we were inside, I took her to the bedroom and then started undressing her. Once I had her down to wearing nothing, gently taking off her bra and panties, I then had her lay down.
Getting on the bed with her still fully clothed, I gave her a full body massage, ending by lovingly massaging her pussy until she was relaxed enough to fall asleep.
Chapter Seventeen - Anne
I thought I was done with it. It had been a month since the funeral and, while I still had what would clinically be called nightmares, which it turned out was common with PTSD and trauma, they were getting better. I never thought there would be a good choice in nocturnal horror-shows but really the nightmares weren't as bad.
They weren't nearly as vivid or lucid and also lacked the physical aspect, not tending to cause thrashing or continued disturbance after my eyes were open. Even the nightmares had been getting better after a while, going more into the just damn weird as opposed to wake-up-screaming type of dreams. More Twin Peaks and less Babadook. It almost got to the point that I wasn't afraid to go to sleep. Pride before the fall.
But then, as though a higher power was trying to punish me for my hubris, I was stricken with my worst night terror yet. I had no idea where it had come from, but it was clear that I still had some issues to work out.
I couldn't even remember the details after. I just knew it was on the mountain and there was a lot of pain and screaming. I didn't think about what I was doing then. I wasn't afraid that Sawyer was going to hurt me. I knew that for sure.
If anything, he would have stopped anything that had tried to hurt me. I was pretty sure the terror was based in the past. Something Sawyer had said about a kid finding a hunting trap was bringing up some long-buried memory.
I woke up with a jerk, reaching for Sawyer, who wasn't there. I whimpered softly, shocked that he would leave me.
Then I noticed it. The deep, beautiful pleasure radiating up from between my legs. Immediately I relaxed, laying back on the bed.
On a guess, I peeked under the covers. Sure enough, there was Sawyer gently eating my pussy like it was the best thing he had ever tasted.
I hummed with pleasure and gently stroked his hair as he lovingly pleasured me, helping me forget the pain and the fear.
“That's it, baby, yes! Right there!”
I came hard, shaking and rattling so much that I was surprised I didn't roll away. Sawyer held fast, keeping hold of my hips and smothering my pussy with soft, wet kisses as I came down from my orgasmic high.
“I hope that was okay,” he said, laying down next to me, still stroking my pussy, sending me straight to heaven.
“It was wonderful.”
“No, I mean the other way. I hope it was okay that I did that, you know, without asking or anything. You just seemed like you were in real distress and extreme measures were called for.”
“Oh, hell yeah. I don't mind at all! Honestly, when it comes to stuff like that you can feel free to use your own judgement and do whatever you think is needed. I am completely in your hands when it comes to that.”
“Good to know,” Sawyer said, sounding relieved.
“Hey,” I said, putting my hand on his, “it's okay, really. I'm okay.”
“Was it a night terror?”
“Yeah,” I confessed. “They’re coming back, are they?”
“Looks like it yeah. I'm not sure why. Things are going pretty well all things considered and I was even getting used to the weird dreams. I think God might be punishing me.”
“I doubt it,” Sawyer said.
“You don't believe in God?”
“Oh, no, it's not that. I had a shrine to Brigid until my mid-20s when it got lost in a move.”
“St. Brigid?” I asked, only aware of the catholic tradition and wondering if he could mean some other religion.
“Yes. Her. I’m rusty on my Catholicism. Anyway, I don't see what you could have done so wrong that God would curse you so.”
“I guess not. Hey, you know what's a really good cure for the effects of night terrors?” I asked.
“Do tell,” he said, playing around.
“A nice, big cock up my ass,” I said, turning onto my side.
Without a moment's hesitation, Sawyer dove in and ate out my asshole like he had my pussy, making me moan and shudder. He must have done something really special this time, because before long, I found myself having a massive ass-gasm, getting me well and truly ready for him to fuck me.
Gentle as you please, and it certainly pleased me, Sawyer eased the head of his cock into my asshole, getting me to breathe slowly out. With a bit of patience, and a lot of communication, Sawyer got his huge cock most of the way into my tiny asshole, filling me with unearthly pleasures.
“I still love fucking your ass just as much as I did that first time, over a month ago now,” he said.
“I love it, too,” I told him.
Giving me a minute to stretch out a bit more, he lay a gentle hand on my hip and started to pump me, working me up to a massive orgasm. I loved how his big cock went in and out of my ass, stretching me as wide open as I could go for him and cramming me tight.
I slammed into the mattress, holding on tight to consciousness, not wanting to fall asleep before Sawyer had filled my ass with his beautiful cum.
It came in a thick, warm rush. Warming me up from the inside. Slowly easing his cock out, I pulled tighter on my legs, trying to keep the warmth in and hold on to the lovely sensation of my orgasm, which did eventually ebb, but not for several minutes
“Are you going to be okay here alone for a while?” Sawyer asked, getting his pants on.
“Sure. I'm not sure about trying to walk right now anyway.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“Fuck no! I feel great! Just a little, you know, stretched.”
“Gotcha.”
“Are you going into the village?”
“Oh, no I think we're good.”
“Great,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.
“I'm was thinking of going out to the
lab and tinkering with the new prototype a bit more.”
“Oh, right, what were you calling it again?”
“Sky Lab Terra.”
“No, I mean the prototype.”
“Oh. Asimov.”
“The three laws of robotics guy?”
“Yeah, seemed appropriate as I am shooting for near AI. A full motion prosthetic that knows what you want it to do as soon as you do. As close to a bio limb as it is possible to get. Some might call it playing god but I'm not playing and I’m mostly just trying to come up with a viable alternative for the original design.”
“How very humble of you,” I said, really meaning it.
I was in awe of him and what he was able to do but also I loved the fact that he had healthy confidence without having a huge ego.
I thought back to what Sophia had said months ago about Sawyer being a cyborg mad scientist. At the time I thought she had been being hyperbolic, even though there was a grain of truth to it. I was beginning to think she might have been righter than she knew.
It really was amazing, what he was doing, let alone managing to do it from a small, self-built lab on the side of a mountain. Had he been possessed of a different sort of personality, his genius and tendency towards isolation might have made him a bit scary but as it was, I found myself in awe of him. As well as somewhat surprised and honored that he was spending so much of his time trying to help and protect me.
It was like something from a story. One of those romance/sci-fi “mash-ups” that were once all the rage.
I was feeling a lot more confident in myself and started wondering if I should go back to work. The night terror could have been a one-off and I would go back to weird but tolerable dreams.
Sawyer couldn't protect me from everything, and I would have to leave eventually.
Or did I?
There was only one person I could think to call and talk to about my dilemma.
“Hello?”
It was great to hear her voice once she answered.
“Hey, Sophia.”