by A. Gorman
Sara
Six months later.
“Mr. Forsythe, are you ready for this?” the physical therapist asked.
“Yes.” Gerald finally agreed to use the prosthetic limb he’d been given, and I promised I’d be there for his first time standing with it. I took the entire week off just for him. His wheelchair was positioned in front of a set of parallel bars. He’d been fitted for the limb a while ago and they’d adjusted it as he healed, but he refused to actually use it until now. He’d gone through some basic training to balance himself, but as far as balancing with the limb, this was all new.
I stood at the end of the bars like a proud mom, smiling at him as they locked the limb onto his stump. He’d been shaping it with gauze and a shrinker sock for a while and his skin was healing beautifully. He had to continue with his contracture prevention so that his joint motion wouldn’t be limited. The PT offered to assist him out of the chair, but he wanted to handle it all on his own. When he raised himself out of the seat and latched his hands onto the bars, I felt a stray tear roll down my cheek. I imagined this was what a mom felt the first time her baby stood on their own for the first time.
He stood completely straight, and I hadn’t realized how tall he was. I’d never seen him completely upright before. Just by gazing at him at the opposite end of the bars, I could tell he was well over six feet tall. His right leg wobbled a little as he tried to get himself used to having the prosthesis on it. He’d gone through desensitization so his skin could get used to something touching it. He explained to me how weird it felt to have something pressing against his stump, but he knew it was necessary for this next stage.
He sucked in a deep breath and my smile widened. I didn’t say a word, but I knew he felt how proud I was of him. He slowly lifted his left leg off the ground, trying to get used to balancing without it. Then he switched legs and took a step forward with his right. It was slow and shaky, but his face lit up like a kid on Christmas, so he took a few more steps. He couldn’t describe how the prosthesis felt, but he did say it felt strange. He took a few more steps and then started shaking again. I could tell he was getting tired, but he wasn’t going to let these bars defeat him. If I’d learned anything about Gerald in these past few months, it’s that he wasn’t a quitter. If he had his mind on something or someone, he was going to get it.
So shaky legs and all, he made it to the end of the bars, and I placed my arms around his torso. He smelled so good, and I let myself get consumed by his outdoor spring scent. He let go of the bar that was supporting his left side and wrapped it around me, pulling me closer and placing a kiss on my forehead.
I took a step back, and the PT joined us on the opposite side of the bars. “You did amazing, Gerald. I’ve never met anyone as stubborn as you, but you definitely conquered these bars.”
“There was something special I wanted at the end of them and I had to have it. She was all I saw, and these legs weren’t going to stop me from getting to her.”
“That’s nice. I need you to have a seat. I don’t want you to wear yourself out.” At first he was hesitant, but then I gave him a nod, and he sat. He didn’t need to push himself, I wasn’t going anywhere. He wanted to keep the limb on for a little longer so he could get used to having it on and the physical therapist didn’t argue. He told him he wished he’d put it on sooner. He’d be so much further in his recovery if he had.
***
Gerald
I owned those fucking bars and doing it in front of Sara made it all so much sweeter.
I couldn’t believe I got to spend the whole day with her. There were so many things I wanted to do, but being stuck in this rehab center sucked because I couldn’t do much or go far.
The PT told me he’d see me the next day and let Sara wheel me back to my room. Sara locked the door behind us and closed the blinds. “What’s going on?”
“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” She had on a dress that stopped mid-thigh, and she lifted it up and crawled into my lap. The heat that radiated from her pussy made my dick instantly stand at attention.
“You sure you want this?”
“Yes.”
I wrapped my arms around her ass and lifted her dress up higher, exposing the round ass I’d relieved myself to a few times. It was so firm and nice and perfect. Her skin was smooth, and the more I touched, the more I craved to feel the inside of her. The front of the dress had a zipper at the base of her neck and she opened it to reveal the lace bra she had underneath that matched the thong she was wearing.
She climbed off my lap and loosened the strings to the shorts I was wearing. Freeing my cock from my boxers, her eyes widened before she licked her thick lips and placed them around the tip.
“Sara,” I growled.
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Take it all in your mouth.” Her lips slid further down until my cock completely filled her mouth and throat. She gagged a bit, but kept going until it was gone, holding it in for a beat before releasing. “Fuck.”
She did this hand combo as she sucked and gently slid her teeth over the sensitive flesh, and I couldn’t help but want to explode in her mouth. It had been a long time since I’d felt the touch of a woman, but the night wasn’t gonna stop there.
“Stop, I need to taste you. Sit on my bed, now.”
She held the bottom of her dress in her hands and slid her panties to the ground. I pushed her back and ran my nose up her thigh. Then I took my thumb and gently massaged her clit as I licked at the crease of her thigh. I pushed one finger in, and she was so tight, but I had to try another finger. I slid in and out of her pussy, pausing so I could taste her essence on my fingertips. She tasted so sweet. Unable to control myself, I flicked my tongue over her bud and circled around it before locking my jaw on her.
I was jealous that my fingers were in her and licked and sucked until she came undone on my lips. She shook, clawed at my hair, pulling me in deeper. I couldn’t get enough of her sweet pussy. Until my dick started aching. I slid the shorts down and carefully stood. I was going for the gold that day with my new leg.
“Sara, are you on birth control? I don’t have any condoms.”
“No, but I trust you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Just fuck me already. You know you want to.”
That was all the confirmation I needed. I let my shorts fall to the ground and pumped my cock before sliding it into her. It took me a while to get inside of her because she had to stretch and adjust, but once we were fully connected it was the best feeling in the fucking world.
“I love you, Gerald,” she cried in ecstasy.
“I love you too, Sara.”
My life was finally falling into place. I’d gotten wind that I was going to get my honorable discharge, and having the love of this woman made all the pain and internal suffering I’d gone through for over three years worth it all. I wouldn’t ever have to be alone. Wherever she was going to be would be my home. And as long as we were together, life would be complete.
***
Sara
Sex with Gerald now felt more passionate and more powerful than what I remembered of our one-night stand. I’d remembered feeling a connection then, but this time it was just pure bliss. And totally what I’d wanted and needed. If I were to get pregnant from this rash decision, so be it. Being in this moment with him would be totally worth it.
We’d talked about me leaving Germany and moving here to be with him. I hadn’t told him yet, but I already put in a transfer request and I couldn’t wait to see where life would take us. He had been in Virginia for a while and seemed happy. And wherever he was going to be would be my home, and taking this step would be the best thing that could ever happen to both of us.
The End for Now!
About the Author
Niquel is a self diagnosed coffee addict, lover of rice and beans, and chocolate—preferably not all together. She’s the creator of multiple stories full of love, passion, and power. She
may toss in a ghost story every once in a while.
When she’s not busy she’s taking care of her two little girls, she's writing or creating graphics. Or you can find her binge watching TV with her significant other.
Boston born and raised, she’s always been a creative soul: attending multiple colleges to develop her love of the visual arts.
You can contact her on her website www.authorniquel.com or Facebook www.facebook.com/author.niquel
ONE
Stepping up the rickety porch, I take a closer look at the For Rent sign and dial the number listed.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I’m calling about the cabin you have for rent, out on Beaumont Rockport. Is it still available?”
“Yes, ma’am. It sure is. Needs a little fixing up if you can manage that.”
“Great. How much to rent?”
“Four hundred a month. You have a decent kitchen, a living room, a full bath, and a bedroom.”
“Perfect. I’ll take it.”
“I’ll be by in about ten minutes with the key.”
“I’ll wait here then.”
True to his estimates, he stands in front of me with a shit grin until his eyes met mine. His grin falls quick. No surprise there. My face is all kinds of fucked up from the war I just got back from.
He holds the key out to me, arms’ length away. “Here ya go. Rent’s due the first of every month.”
I take the key. “My name is Sienna.”
I hold out my hand, and do the best I can to smile.
“Richard. You can call me Richie; everyone ‘round here does.”
“Nice to meet you.”
As I turn to put the key in the knob, he says, “See ya around,” and waves as he steps back.
The war beat me eight ways to Sunday. The fewer mirrors I run into the better. Even I don’t want to see my face. One cheek is completely scarred up and I’m blind in one eye, causing me to wear an eye patch most days. I swallow a hard lump while thinking about it. My body took the same beating; I’m burned up a good portion of my left side. It’s not something you would notice right off the bat. However, my face is unmistakable. Look up Ugly in the dictionary and you’ll probably find my picture. It’s the cold hard truth. War fucked me up.
Thank god my tour is over. After two tours there’s not much left of me. Not on the inside or the outside. I feel empty. Like nothing. Like I don’t exist. But I’m here and alive. I can be thankful for that, right? Maybe one day I will be.
Once inside the cabin, I can see it is very basic. Entering, I’m in the living room, and the kitchen is straight across, almost one giant room, because there are no walls splitting the two. Off to the left is the bathroom, and then the bedroom next to that. Very basic. It definitely needs a sprucing up. Maybe replace some of the floor boards; they feel loose. And the deck could use a fresh coat of stain and then the place will be nice.
I set my bag down on the hardwood floor, causing dust to fly up. Ugh. This is going to require me to go to a hardware store. Meaning I have to venture out in public. I groan loudly. My eye patch sticks out like a sore thumb, let alone my scarred face. It’s not like makeup can just cover it up, because it can’t. I’ve tried. But I have no choice but to make the trip.
Sighing once more, I hop in my red jeep. I’d never even think about undoing the windows. That is too risky. Might as well apply for a job while I’m out. I saw a local bar on the way to the cabin. If I can get into the kitchen to work, maybe I can stay under the radar.
Pinkie’s Bar is a mere one mile from where I live. I can walk if I am feeling really adventurous. Unfortunately, going through the front door is my only option to gain entry for an application. I step in, and it’s fairly empty. Thank god.
Spotting the bartender, I walk up to the bar. “Hi. I was wondering if you’re hiring here. Perhaps for the kitchen.”
“I’ll go get the boss,” she says disappearing into the back.
A heavyset man appears, a white apron tied around his waist and a chef hat on. “You looking for work?”
I nod. “Yes, sir. I’m real good in the kitchen, if you could use the help. I could use the money.”
“Can you start tomorrow at three pm? It’s a busy night. Think you can keep up?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Great. Come in at two and I’ll have you fill out some paperwork then you can start your shift.”
“Thank you so much.”
He disappears into the back without another word. That seemed easy enough. Walking out the door, I bump into a hard body. My eyes are at the level of his hard chest. I swallow hard and look up.
“I’m so sorry. Excuse me.”
“No worries, beautiful.” He flashes a blinding white grin and goes about his way inside. I look back and catch him looking at me, grinning. Then he winks.
Well, I’m certain he needs his eyes checked for calling me beautiful. He is a man of color, and quite good looking. Probably a total player. I can tell just by our interaction. He is beautiful, though, in a manly kind of way.
Sienna, no man is gonna want you. Get him out of your mind. A guy like him probably has a waiting list of ladies in line.
Shaking my thoughts, I head back to my jeep and get on the road for the hardware store.
* * *
The first day of work isn’t so bad. At five, Nico the boss, tells me to take a break. Now, I’m sitting on the stoop when a young man comes outside. He’s the same one I had run into the previous day. We didn’t have a chance to chat since Nico was training me. But that face is hard to forget.
His eyes meet mine and he says “Hey, beautiful.”
My stomach churns at the mention of being called beautiful. “Please don’t call me that.” I hold my hand out. “Just call me Sienna. Sienna Daniels.”
He shakes my hand and smiles. “I’m Drake. Drake Harmon.”
Even though I know he saw it, he’s sitting on the side where my scar is hard to see.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sienna Daniels.”
He smiles. His brown eyes twinkle in the sun light. I want to reach over and touch his milk chocolate skin. But I resist. I admire his beauty; the flawlessness of his face. I once had a flawless face.
Drake picks up a pebble and tosses it. “Tell me, Sienna. What are you doing in a place like this? In the kitchen, no less.”
Is that a joke? I answer him, anyway. “So no one notices me. I don’t want to be seen.”
He stands, brushing the dust off his work pants, and he looks down at me. “I see you, Sienna Daniels.” He takes his smirk inside, leaving me dumbfounded.
I don’t want to be seen…especially not by Drake Harmon. Break is almost over, and I huff as I dust myself off and head back to work. If I wasn’t such damaged goods, maybe I would give him a shot. But he is far too beautiful, even for me.
The rest of the day passes with ease. I work with Nico most of the day. “Tomorrow, you start on your own,” he states.
Taking my apron off, my hair net follows. Clocking out, I start to head home when Drake stops me.
“Can I walk you home?”
I continue to walk, but turn to face him. “I’ll be fine. See you tomorrow, Drake.” I wave and turn back around.
Home is literally a hop, skip, and a jump away. Maybe a half mile if you really want to calculate the distance. Enjoying the walk, I revel in the solitude. Most days, I prefer it that way.
TWO
Arriving home, I immediately take a shower. I pull on a pair of white capris and a long t-shirt,while my hair air dries. With some already made egg salad, I make a sandwich and head out to the porch. Sitting in the rocker with my plate settled in my lap, I take in the view. The buzz of the late evening air amazes me. It’s almost dark out, but I can still make out the ripples of the water to the lake that looks like a picture perfect painting.
The wooded area is off to my left. I don’t think I’ll ever venture there. But this cabin is heaven. There is a dock that leads out into the wat
er and I’m excited to stand there one night, looking off into the distance, nursing a beer, but I am too tired to make the trek.
It’s late in the summer. Families that vacation here are mostly gone. So the sereneness of this place makes me feel a sense of peace. Yet, I can feel the loneliness lying beneath it all. I am considering getting a dog. Just to have some sort of companion with me. Maybe tomorrow I’ll see about going to the pet store, if I’m feeling brave enough.
As I think about the day, Drake Harmon comes to mind, with his perfect white teeth, his perfect body and perfect skin. He is tall and brooding. Fucking perfect. I decide that I don’t like him. But that only lasts all of five minutes when I see him approaching the cabin, carrying something.
“How’d you know where I live?” I ask, slightly annoyed.
“Well, when I saw you walking this way, I knew the cabins were in this direction.” He steps onto the porch. “My momma makes enough food for an army. Thought I’d bring some over. It’s baked ziti.”
I take the glassware dish from him. “Thanks. Do you want to come in and eat with me?”
“No, ma’am. I already ate.” He waves me off as he steps back down. “I just thought I’d bring you some food.”
“Tell your momma thanks for me.”
“I will. See you tomorrow.”
“See you,” I reply, and watch him walk away.
No. There is no way I can dislike Drake. He’s been nothing but nice to me. Maybe tomorrow I’ll dislike him. Darkness starts to fall, so I move inside and put away the ziti. I’ll have it tomorrow. With fresh sheets on the bed, I settle in.
A roadside bomb goes off, and dirt flies everywhere. I struggle to breathe and to see. The Humvee is blasted, throwing me out of the vehicle. Before anyone can reach for me, the Humvee goes up in flames; fire blasts in my face and on my body. Shrapnel injects all over me leaving me, in an excruciating amount of pain.