Chapter 21
PHIL GRIMACED FIERCELY, eyes narrowed and teeth bared in a snarl. He jabbed his finger toward the king-sized mattress.
“Get in the bed!”
“Don’t say it like that,” said Crawley with a giggle.
They were in the simple but clean hotel room he had rented, its neon sign just visible through the thick, slightly parted curtains. Both were stripped to the waist, Crawley wearing only a miniscule pink G-string and Phil clad in red boxers. She had her hair put up, her slender neck tapering down to smooth shoulders.
Phil was more than a bit uncomfortable, but gave it another try. “Get in the fucking bed!” he said more harshly.
“Noooo!” Crawley rolled her eyes. “You’re not saying it right.”
“Then how am I supposed to say it?”
“I don’t know! Not so angry. Try being stern, like…like you’re a teacher about to discipline a child!”
The comment made him feel a bit guilty, as his teacher friend had called three times already that day and sent several texts but Phil had never checked any of them. He banished the thoughts from his mind, trying to do as Crawley had asked.
“Get in the bed,” he said, his voice a low growl, “now.”
He must have hit the right tone, because Crawley simpered and meekly moved to obey. “Okay. Please don’t hurt me.”
She got slowly on the bed, sitting on her knees and crossing her arms over her chest. Her eyes were shining, though her face still seemed frightened. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do next.
“Oh,” she said, closing her eyes, “what are you going to do to me?”
Finding his character, he slipped back into it. “Anything I want,” he said, getting on the bed after awkwardly doffing his boxers. His body was about half-prepared for a bout of passion, his cock dangling between his thighs. He put his hands gently on Crawley’s shoulders and pushed on them softly.
“Oh!” she cried, flopping on her back as if she had been thrown full force. “Oh my god, please, I’ll do whatever you say!”
He grabbed her tiny panties and yanked them down to her knees, then her ankles, finally holding them in his right hand. She gasped as if in terror as her nether lips were exposed, already slightly open and growing wet.
“Oh, you’re so big,” she said as he crawled atop of her. “Please, don’t stick it in my ass.”
“I’ll stick it wherever I want.” He nibbled on her dark brown nipples, teeth pinching hard.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to scream!”
Phil remembered the line from one of her stories, and was ready to play his part. He took the satin underwear in his hand and balled it up. She opened her mouth wide so he could jam them into her orifice, though her eyes seemed to protest the act.
“Scream all you want,” he said, grabbing her hands in his own and pinning her to the bed. The sounds escaping from behind her satin panties sounded fearful, and the dewy light in her eyes matched. However, her body seemed to want to press itself against him, and her legs spread eagerly as he slithered over her body. He released one of her hands and ran his own over one small breast, kneading the flesh vigorously. Crawley’s muted protests grew more insistent, and she fought against the hand still holding her down. She moved her free hand as if to pull the gag out of her mouth.
“Don’t touch that!” he growled, momentarily stopping his exploration of her body to squeeze her hand in his own. “Put your hand under your head.”
Meekly, Crawley moved to comply. His hand went back to work, sliding down her toned stomach until he reached her mound. Normally he teased the outside a bit, unsure of how much pressure she would find pleasurable, but now he roughly spread her labia and thrust himself inside her. Crawley gasped behind her panties, eyes squinting tightly shut as her body writhed beneath his own.
He slid himself in and out of her, amazed as always at how soft and tight she was. Crawley tried to stay in character, making pleading noises behind the panties in her mouth, but soon his thrusting had her making sounds of ecstasy. During one particularly passionate cry the panties came out to lay in a sodden pile on the bed next to her head.
Soon all pretense of their foreplay was gone, and he was no longer holding her down to the bed. She became his willing partner, allowing him to flip her over onto her stomach so he could re-enter her from that position. He did seize a handful of her thick hair in his fist, yanking back firmly while still being careful not to pull too hard or too far. Crawley’s hips ground into his own, indicating that she was pleased with the forceful gesture even if they had abandoned their kinky dialogue.
Phil was exultant. Finally, he was able to hold his own with Crawley, able to please her just as well as she pleased him. She lurched upward, her body arching against his until their faces were pressed together. Though it was a bit awkward, their mouths found each other amid Phil’s energetic thrusting. The taste of her tongue inside his mouth, while their bodies were still interlocked on another level, was amazingly intimate, and for a moment he was not sure where he ended and she began.
Crawley flung herself forward, grinding her buttocks against his hips. Taking it as permission to release, he allowed himself to come, gasping through a shuddering wave of ecstasy. Crawley buried her face in the pillows, but still her scream had the windows rattling in their sills. Lazily, she rolled over onto her back, staring up at Phil with a tired but satisfied smile.
“That was fantastic,” she whispered in his ear, punctuating it with a peck on the cheek.
“Yeah.” He was surprised at the ring of truth in her voice as well as his own.
“Next time,” she said, scooting back on her butt until she was in a sitting position, “when I beg you not to do something, that means I want you to.”
“Okay. I wasn’t sure about the panties thing, if you could breathe or whatever.”
“You did fine.” She tousled his hair vigorously. “Remember, if things get too scary I can just use the safe word.”
“Doughnut.”
“Doughnut,” she said happily. “But you’ll probably never hear me use it.”
Phil nodded warmly, reaching his hand up to stroke her smooth cheek.
She put her hand over his and stared at him, eyes worried. “You’re okay with all this, aren’t you? I mean, I’m not freaking you out or anything, am I?”
“Of course, not. I love you.”
Crawley sucked in a deep breath of air, and Phil’s eyes went wide when he realized what he’d said.
“I’m sorry, that just kind of slipped—”
“I love you too!” said Crawley, wrapping her arms around his neck and crushing her lips to his. When she pulled away, a slight grin was on her lips. “I was scared you wouldn’t, y’know, be into this kind of stuff.”
“What? No! I’ve had the Internet since I was ten. I’m no Puritan.”
“Oh?” She kissed his fingers. “What kinds of nasty, dirty things have you been looking at, you naughty boy?”
“Oh, you know,” he said as she sucked on his digits, moaning softly. “Gangbangs, three ways, BDSM…”
She stopped her ministrations, giving him a teasing smile. “Did you know that male spiders have to trap females in a web so they can mate?”
“Uh, no.” Phil was uncomfortable with the mention of his hated foes.
“Oh, yes,” she said, kissing his salty palm. “You see, it’s very, very dangerous for the male. They have to protect themselves, so they tie up the lady spider…”
She trailed kisses down his arm, transferring her attention to his chest when she was close enough. Her tongue teased his smooth skin, shaved and waxed at her request. Her teeth teased his flesh, nibbling at it as she headed for his neck.
“That’s a little hard,” he said as she bit down with vigor.
“Be a man.” She giggled.
Phil did his best to comply, and his best was good enough.
Steve rolled out of bed, rubbing his tired eyes. He glanced ou
t his bedroom window, saw that the first pink vestiges of dawn were breaking on the horizon. His bed clothes were stripped off and cast into the overfilled hamper. One of Autumn’s shirts fell off the stack and hit the floor. Steve paused long enough to pick it up before going into the bathroom.
He stopped in front of the mirror, rubbed a hand over his unkempt facial hair. He lathered up his face with cream, and then he carefully gave himself an impeccably close shave. The face staring back at him was still tired and worn, but at least his smoothly shaven skin made him appear neat. The image pleased him. He was tired of seeing a bedraggled bum looking back at him.
Stepping in the shower, he turned on the water, dodging out of the way of the stream until it heated up a bit. He washed his hair and thoroughly scrubbed his body with a loofah. After toweling off, he deliberately brushed out his shoulder-length hair. Feeling like he wanted to dress better as well as look better, he donned a pair of black dress pants and a white collared shirt, adding a black sports jacket he almost never wore. Selecting a gray and red striped tie from his small collection, he fumbled with the knot for several minutes before giving up. He tossed the tie back in his closet and selected one that had a knot already in it.
Back in the bathroom, he used a black elastic band to bind his hair in a tight ponytail. A few spritzes of a fruity smelling cologne that he did not care for but Autumn seemed to enjoy, and he was prepared.
“I look like I’m going to a funeral,” he said somberly. He stripped off the tie and jacket, but left the dress pants and shirt on.
The drive to the hospital was blessedly uneventful. He drove without the new radio on, the silence suiting his mood. While stopped at a red light, he watched as a couple passed by laughing and running and holding hands. A sudden spring of grief washed over him, and he felt his eyes grow watery.
Steve had to fight off tears several more times before he hit the hospital lobby. People turned their heads at his dapper appearance, but he didn’t even notice. His stomach felt like a ton of lead as he rode the elevator up to her floor.
When he entered her room, putting on his best smile, he was surprised to see Autumn sitting up in bed, applying makeup. She had put on ruby red lipstick and smoky blue eye shadow. Her hair was brushed out and braided in an elaborate pattern down her neck. The cosmetics clashed badly with her blue hospital gown, the tubes sticking from her arms creating further pathos. But when he looked into her soft brown eyes, saw the warmth reflected back at him…
“You look beautiful. Shouldn’t you save your strength, though?”
She blew out a razzberry at his assessment, running her eyes up and down his form.
“You are a very handsome man, you know that?”
“For a giant who’s a bit of a pussy.”
“You don’t get to call yourself that,” she said, clutching his hand as tightly as she could. “That’s my job.”
They talked idly for a few minutes. For better or for worse, both of them seemed resolved to the strangeness of the situation. The subject of the future never came up, though it weighed heavily on both their minds. At length, Autumn leaned backward and laid her cheek on her pillow, smudging a bit of black across it from her mascara.
“You look tired,” he said.
“I am tired. I’m also fucking bored. I’m sick of being sick.”
“Do you want me to turn on the TV?”
“Naw. There’s just soap operas and game shows on this time of day.”
“I could go to the gift shop, get you something to read.”
“No, just stay with me. Don’t go. The light hurts my eyes anyway, so I can’t stand to read. Tell me a story.”
Steve chuckled. “What?”
“You’re a teacher. You must know some good stories.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you’ll like any of them.”
“Then make one up,” she said, smiling though her eyes remained closed.
“Uh…”
“Make one up,” said Autumn insistently, trying to punch him in the arm. The feeble gesture barely registered with him.
“Okay.” Steve cast his eyes skyward as he struggled to come up with something on the spot. “Okay, once there was this big, hairy bear, and everyone was afraid of it because it always seemed angry.”
“I like stories about bears,” she said happily, brushing her clammy hands over his arm.
“Well, this bear was angry all the time because he was lonely. He was terribly, terribly lonely. One day, a beautiful princess—”
“Stop.” She opened her eyes to glare at him. “I know where this story is going and you are soooo not making me a princess!”
Steve grinned, then cleared his throat. “Okay. One day, a winged, tattooed succubus from Hell showed up.”
Autumn laughed, which seemed to cause her a bit of pain. “That’s more like it!”
“So this succubus, she showed the bear a world he never knew existed. And when the devil showed up, saying she had to come home, well, that bear stood up in the devil’s horned face and said, no way! She’s mine, and she’s staying with me forever.”
Autumn smiled as his story wound down, managing to give his hand a weak squeeze. “I like that story. But how does it end?”
Both of their heads turned toward the hospital door as Susan strode jubilantly through it. Steve’s voice caught in his throat, but his eyes and arched brows asked the question that weighed desperately on his mind. A moment later his eyes went wide in confusion as an older black man strode up behind his sister.
“We found him!” said Susan, gesturing grandly at Jonathon.
The man walked up to the couple, his wizened face furrowing as he nervously approached.
“Hello, Autumn. It’s so good to see you.”
“Daddy…” Autumn’s eyes welled up with tears. “This isn’t right. I was supposed to kick your ass the next time I saw you.”
“Let’s get you better first,” said Jonathon. “I definitely deserve an ass kicking or two.”
“But,” said Steve, “but we can’t afford the operation…”
“That’s taken care of too,” said Susan.
“Dad?” said Steve.
“Uhm,” said Susan, “I don’t think it’s that relevant right now.”
“Is this the right room?” Brad asked, coming inside in his usual energetic manner.
“No doubt about it,” said Deathslayer, a step behind the much smaller man.
“Who’s this?” Autumn asked as Brad came up to her and eagerly shook her hand.
“Uh,” said Jonathon, “this is…”
He seemed to lose his speech for a moment. Brad gave him a sympathetic smile and squeezed Autumn’s hand.
“I’m Bradley. I guess…well, I guess I’m your stepfather.”
Autumn turned her head toward her father, eyes wide in shock.
He shrugged bashfully. “I didn’t think you’d want me around.”
“I don’t care that you’re gay, Dad. I do care that you ran out on us and never called.”
“I called. Your mother always hung up on me. Then she changed the number, a few years passed, and…I’m not sure how it got to be so long since we spoke. It’s the worst thing I have ever done as a human being.”
Steve glanced up, startled by the touch of his father’s hand upon his shoulder.
“Let’s give them some time,” said the towering man.
“But—” said Steve, unwilling to leave Autumn’s side.
“They have some catching up to do,” said Deathslayer, gently tugging his son toward the door. “Besides, wait until you hear about the trip! We had quite an adventure, let me tell you.”
They left the room, Steve giving one last glance at Autumn and her father.
Autumn’s transplant surgery took place on a cold and blustery February day. Steve paced worriedly in the waiting room as the hours passed. It seemed as though there were so many things that could go wrong. The idea of losing his love on the operating table, after so much stri
fe and effort, made him nearly insane.
His father sat helplessly nearby, watching his son with tormented eyes. Phil was there as well, with Crawley leaning her head on his shoulder. Susan had school, but she called her father every hour on the dot to check on the progress.
At length, a surgeon entered the waiting room, drawing everyone’s pained stares. His immediate smile put them at ease, but Steve was still compelled to ask how she was doing.
“The operation was a success,” said the surgeon, a bit smugly. “It’s really one of the simpler transplants I’ve done.”
Phil shook his head at the surgeon’s bravado, but Steve took his hand and pumped it enthusiastically.
“Thank you,” he said with such warmth and sincerity emanating from his eyes that the surgeon seemed to thaw a little.
“It’s my job, sir,” he said with a smile. “Oof!”
Steve hugged the man in a powerful grip, setting him back down and even pecking him on the lips. “Can I see her?”
“She’ll be in recovery for a while,” said the surgeon, adjusting his scrubs a bit. “But I’ll let you know as soon as she wakes up.”
Brad entered the waiting room, bearing a cardboard tray laden with coffee. His eyes lit up when he saw their smiling faces.
“It’s done?” he asked.
“It’s done,” said Deathslayer, grinning at the little man.
“Who’d have thought,” said Crawley. “A happy ending.”
Chapter 22
STEVE WHISTLED CHEERFULLY as he bore the heavy black garbage bag on his shoulder. He smiled at the small knot of people in the elevator who had to move aside for him and his burden. More than a few inquisitive stares were aimed in his direction, but due to his size and biker-style coat, no one seemed willing to actually speak.
He got off on the ninth floor and nearly skipped to Autumn’s room. He found her standing at the wire-reinforced window, a Hello Kitty bathrobe wrapped around her form.
“You’re feeling better.” He deposited the bag on her empty bed.
She turned halfway around to face him, a somber light in her eyes.
Forever Autumn Page 23