The other day I’d woken up with morning wood the likes of which I hadn’t seen since before the accident. A great indicator that I was back to normal and a terrific start to my day, or so I thought. But that night, when things were heating up with Dynassy in my car after our date, the little pecker took a vacation on me.
First Dynassy and I were kissing then I went to second base, rounded the corner to third, and that beautiful, enticing woman started rubbing my crotch over my pants. I tried not to panic. This was the first time she’d reached her hand down there, and to my relief I could feel myself harden. So when she fumbled with my zipper and unfastened my jeans, I let her.
Major mistake.
Her delicate fingers wrapped around my erection, and she stroked me in a way that made certain she was an angel and I’d died and gone to heaven. I devoured her mouth as she drove my arousal to a fever pitch.
And then the fucker decided to go on hiatus.
Just when I was getting somewhere.
I mumbled some apologies, tugged back up my pants, and told her goodnight. The whole thing was awkward as hell, and I did not want a repeat of that crap if I could help it. I was short with Dynassy, and I’m sure she was confused by my erratic behavior, but I couldn’t explain it to her—not then. It was too humiliating.
The next morning I made an appointment with my doctor. When I told him what had happened, he shook his head with a testosterone-filled empathy that only another man could give.
“And this happened only the once?”
“Yes. I thought things were progressing, going in the right direction until then. Doc, what can I do to make it better?”
He shrugged. “Practice?”
“Seriously?”
“Nerve damage is funny.” He frowned. “Okay, not funny in this case. But it is peculiar. It’s like the nerves have a mind of their own. The fact that you have been able to have an erection, that’s a great sign. It tells us that the feeling is coming back. My suggestion is to try to use those nerves as frequently as you can.”
“Alone?”
He nodded. “Or with a partner.”
“No thanks.”
“Then just give it some test drives.”
“Regress to puberty and lock myself in the bathroom?”
We both laughed and he said, “Whatever it takes. I wish I had a magic pill for you, but this is one of those times where nature just has to take its course. You could try some of those testosterone supplements if you want. I don’t see how they could hurt as long as you take them as directed.”
So I left my doctor’s office with the strangest prescription ever: MASTURBATE.
When I got back home, I prepared myself for a self-stimulation session. I felt foolish making a big deal of it, but I had a lot riding on how this turned out. Years of my life had been spent recuperating from the hit I’d taken in Iraq, and this was the last piece of the puzzle that I prayed would finally make me whole again.
Sitting down on my bed, I considered what materials I should use to get excited. It seemed like too much pressure to think about Dynassy, so I lay back on my bed and I pulled up some porn vids on my laptop.
Ugh. That just made me think of work. No stirrings below the belt.
All of a sudden I wished for the old days of actual magazines, and I wished I’d thought to stop and pick one up on my way home from the doc’s. It did, however, give me an idea.
I had a Tumblr account that I’d used to post stills and GIFs from some of our shoots. I typed in the address and pulled up the site.
There I found exactly what I was looking for—still pics of people in all stages of fucking captured with artful lighting, airbrushed bodies, and perfect skin. I scrolled down and started getting hard as I perused the sexy images.
Armed with a bottle of lotion and a towel, I went to town, stroking my cock, enjoying the beautiful women and sex acts being performed on my screen. But that didn’t last long, and soon I found myself thinking about Dynassy.
Dynassy was the most alluring woman I’d ever met. I was drawn to her smile, that adorable smirk she only wore off camera. Those magnificent curves. That glorious heart-shaped ass. Damn, but I wanted her.
I jacked my cock faster.
I wanted her desperately. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to be able to take her, to own her completely. It meant everything to be able to make her mine.
I gritted my teeth and kept working my dick. I was so fucking close…
Closing my eyes, I imagined Dynassy beneath me, her big brown eyes looking up at me through impossibly long eyelashes fluttering with lust. Gripping my cock tighter, I jerked it faster and faster until finally I found my release.
Thick ropes of white fluid spurted from the head of my penis onto my leg.
“Fuck, yeah,” I said aloud, letting a massive wave of relief wash over me.
And as good as solo sex felt, I couldn’t wait to try out my new toy with Dynassy.
CHAPTER TEN
Bridger
The morning after my “successful” solo sexual experience, I was sleeping hard when I received a FaceTime request from my mother. My mom was the only person I knew of her generation who opted for FaceTime over telephone calls. I often wished she had embraced the technology of texting, but I guess she had picked up the habit from messaging her grandchildren in Florida. She didn’t get out to visit my sister’s kids very often, so she kept up with them by phone, and she was always telling me about how my niece and nephew used iPads for everything, even though they were four and five.
“You look terrible.”
“Thanks. You do too,” I snapped, even though I hadn’t looked at her yet. I rolled over and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “What time is it? You know this is my only day off, don’t you?”
“Oh sweetie, I forgot. In fact, I didn’t really expect you to answer. I planned to leave a message.” Thankfully, she ignored my insult to her appearance. Wait, could you to leave a message on FaceTime? I didn’t even know. But she had me on the phone already, I might as well talk with her.
“What’s up?”
“Well, I haven’t talked to you in a while, and I was wondering how things were going? Any changes?”
My mother actually meant if there were any changes in my nerves awakening. In my penis.
Normally I would have seen this is an intrusion, but my mother had been the one to care for me after all of my surgeries. She had moved from the Atlanta area, where she had an established practice, all the way to California to take care of her baby boy. When I first realized I was going to need long-term care, I expected my fiancée Samantha to take care of things, help me out, but when we broke up, my mother stepped up to the plate and was by my side the whole way.
“Actually there has been some improvement.”
My mother squealed with glee. This was crazy embarrassing, but you see, my mother is a sex therapist. She’s a doctor of psychology with additional training in sex therapy. My whole life she’s talked more about sex than most parents. Basically, she’s been making me uncomfortable talking about penises and vaginas for as long as I can remember, so while her reaction was embarrassing, it was understandable.
“Oh my God, Bridger! That’s wonderful. So did you have an erection?”
“Mom, I don’t really want to talk about this. Can we just say that things are almost back to normal down there?”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Is this a result of masturbation?”
“Mother, we are not going to discuss this. I’ve said more than enough already.”
“Okay. I’m just happy for you, that’s all. You know, I knew you would get back that ability. I always believed, and I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks, Mom. It is good to feel like a man again, like I’m whole.”
“I’ll bet. Now if you can just meet a girl you like…”
“Well, that’s kind of how this happened.”
“Oh my goodness. You’re kidding. There’s a girl? So, are you actually able t
o have intercourse?”
“Mother, if you ask me that again, I’m hanging up.”
“Okay, okay. Sorry. When do I get to meet her?”
“I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”
“Why not?”
“Well, there aren’t a lot of women who are interested in a guy who runs a porn business.”
“Nonsense. Sexuality is a natural part of the human experience. Any girl who understands that will understand what you do. It’s not like you’re having sex with anyone. You’re simply creating entertainment for people to enjoy. It’s all about self-satisfaction. What’s wrong with that?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, Mom, I’m pretty sure most people don’t see it that way. This woman in particular.” Dynassy had confided in me how hard she was working to redeem her reputation with the public. How people thought of her directly affected her career and probably her bank account. I hated the idea of compromising that by simply being in her life.
“If she’s the right girl for you, she’ll be fine with it.”
“I wouldn’t count on it.” Sometimes my mother was completely out of touch with the world. Even the people who subscribed to our porn site wouldn’t want me going out with their daughter or their sister.
People generally think that porn takes advantage of women, that it objectifies them.
And I agree. It does, but that objectification is what is so hot to a lot of people—men and women included. I know there are guys who get addicted to porn, and it fucks them up in their relationships with women. They expect women to do all the crazy things they see in porn, to be one-dimensional, to beg for anal from five guys or something equally unrealistic, but I like to think that our little site shows a different side of it all.
Our website is all about pleasuring women. Sure, guys are the ones who usually ike to watch the women getting off, but having women get off is generally a highly thought-of goal. And if people learned something about how to pleasure a woman by watching our videos, then it had some intrinsic value.
It was possible I was fooling myself, but that’s how I justified it so I could sleep at night and cash my checks.
“Well, honey, this is great news. We should celebrate!”
I laughed. “I think it’s, um, celebration enough just to have it working, Mom.”
“If you say so. I’d be ready to have a party.”
Being with Dynassy was all the party I needed. And I intended to do as much of that as possible before she found out about my adult video business. I wasn’t sure how long I could get away with keeping my secret, and I felt shitty about hiding it from her, but after all I’d sacrificed, all I’d been through, I justified my dishonesty by telling myself I deserved to have a little happiness, even if it was short-lived.
“We can get together for dinner next week. How does that sound?”
“Perfect. How’s Wednesday?”
Wednesday was the only night she didn’t see patients. “Fine. Arnold’s at seven?”
“It’s a date. Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
We hung up, and I decided to go for a run before calling Dynassy.
Not only did I think Dynassy was responsible for bringing back my sexual functioning (as limited as it might be; it was improving rapidly with her in my life), but lately I’d been feeling a hope for the future that I hadn’t had since my injury, and I attributed that to her as well.
Even though she was a big superstar, I didn’t see her that way. To me, she was an adorably sexy girl who made me laugh and who brought out all of my instincts as a man. Not only did I want to screw her brains out, I wanted to take care of her, protect her. Hell, after finding myself fantasizing about her chasing a toddler around, I realized I wanted to play house with her.
All of that was me just dreamin’, because I knew once the secret about the porn biz came out, she’d kick me to the curb. I knew that. But I still couldn’t help myself. I truly believed I needed Dynassy to make me whole again.
And since I was being less than forthcoming about my work, I felt the need to be honest with her about my injury. She’d have enough questions once she saw my scars.
I was going to have to tell her what happened to me, but I wanted to put off that conversation for as long as possible, because I was not looking forward to it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Dynassy
In many ways things with Bridger had been going really well. We’d been on half a dozen dates, and I couldn’t have been more attracted to him. Our sense of humors matched up perfectly, and no matter what we did we had a great time hanging out together.
Last week we’d gone swimming at Lucinda’s when she wasn’t home, and I’d had the chance to see him in only his swimming trunks. Talk about getting a girl all hot and bothered. I’d traced his skin with my finger and had him explain each one of his tattoos to me.
“This one’s a SEAL thing.” He pointed at an American flag entwined with a trident.
“What’s this—an eagle?” I asked indicating a large bird on his shoulder.
“No, that’s a Phoenix. See the PHX underneath it?”
I nodded. “You mean like how you rose from the ashes of your injury?”
“Pretty much.”
“I like this one,” I touched the one on his chest that said “Battle Ready,” the words intersecting into a cross. The man had depth, I had to give him that, and I found it wildly appealing. It was also a complete turn-around from the men I was used to going out with.
We’d had a nice time swimming, but just when things between us started heating up in the pool, he said he had to go.
And that was the end of that date.
At first I’d interpreted Bridger’s not putting the moves on me as a lack of interest. But he kept texting me, kept asking me out, and so I started to think he wanted to take things slow for whatever reason. I was so crazy about him that I decided to give him however much time he needed, even if it did make me feel like I’d time traveled back to the 1950’s or like I was dating Tim Tebow.
But a few days later when we were fooling around in his car like teenagers, I felt his dick go limp in my hand.
Red flag.
The only other time I’d had a guy go soft on me, I found out later he was gay. I prayed this wouldn’t turn out to be the case with Bridger.
If he was the kind of guy who felt the need to hide his gayness behind a “for show” relationship with a woman, I would be a perfect choice. Then again, it didn’t seem like he was acting when he looked into my eyes, or when he kissed me.
Either way, I needed to know. I was already falling for the guy and I didn’t want to have my heart completely broken. Bridger had asked me to meet him for lunch at the beach for our next date, and I was determined to get to the bottom of it.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Bridger
I’d asked Dynassy to meet me at a restaurant on the beach. That way she’d have her own car, and if what I told her turned out to be too much for her and she wanted to leave, she’d have an easy out and we could avoid an impossibly awkward drive home together.
I arrived first and had the waitress seat us outside at the far end of the dining area, so our conversation was less likely to be overheard.
When she first walked through the door, I saw her before she saw me, which gave me a chance to unabashedly stare at the beautiful woman who for some unknown reason had agreed to be my date. She wore a bright yellow sundress that hugged her curves and set off her tan. Her long dark hair blew in the breeze, and she tucked one side of it behind her ear in a vain attempt to keep it in place.
She appeared not to notice the other dining patrons who gawked at her as she walked by, in the way that only people who are accustomed to constantly being noticed can. The way she floated through the restaurant made it seem as though she were on another plane from the rest of us, and I counted my blessings once again that this gorgeous girl even gave me the time of day.
“Hi!”
I stood up and gave her a hug that lifted her off the ground. “Hi,” I whispered lustily in her ear.
When I set her down, she gave me a look that said she thought I was a naughty boy. If she only knew how naughty…
I held out her chair for her, then after she sat down, slid it under the table.
“Thank you,” she said.
“No problem,” I said, sitting down myself.
The waitress arrived, handing us menus then filling our water glasses.
She ordered a white wine spritzer, and I asked for a beer.
I had intended on enjoying a nice lunch first, but my nerves got the better of me, so the second the waitress drifted out of earshot, I launched into it.
“You’re probably wondering why I had you drive all the way out here.”
She grinned. “It did cross my mind, yes.”
I nodded and placed my napkin in my lap, stalling.
“Dynassy, there’s something I have to tell you.”
Her brows drew together. “Oh my God. What is it? Are you gay?”
“No! What would give you that idea?”
“Nothing. Never mind. What was it you wanted to tell me?”
I inhaled deeply, then breathed out. This wasn’t going to be easy. “When I was injured in Iraq, the shrapnel from the explosion went off here.” I moved my hand across my lap to indicate the area where I’d been injured.
“It did?” Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“Yeah. I wasn’t sure when to tell you, or how to tell you, but I thought since things were getting…”
I struggled for the words, but she placed a hand on mine and said, “It’s okay.”
And even though she didn’t know what she was talking about—she had no way to know if it was going to be okay or not—I appreciated her trying to comfort me.
She started to speak but I held up a hand to cut her off. “I need to finish. This isn’t easy for me to talk about.”
But before I could say anything else, the waitress brought us our drinks and asked if we were ready to order.
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