I looked at Sara, studying her lovely face, ending the date with a chaste kiss on the cheek. “I had a good time, Sara,”. She giggled. “Flatterer.”
“Our birthday is on Thursday,” I reminded her.
“See you Friday,” Sara said, smirking at me and tossing her head in a way she knew drove me crazy.
I headed off back to my own house, little realizing the dramatic twist that was coming.
On Wednesday night, a plane on a routine training mission of the air Force had a tiny crack in the oil reservoir that had gone undetected by maintenance. Without oil, the components of the engine overheated and blew apart and the plane plunged towards the earth, directly on Sara’s house. Her parents were killed. Her spinal cord was severed and there was nothing the doctors could do: she would never walk again.
“What a way to celebrate our birthday, babe,” I told her, leaning over her hospital bed and kissing her cheek.
At least we didn’t have to worry about money. The Air Force was paying for everything, and they would give her a stipend and a place to live after she was released from hospital. And a wheelchair, and pay for the facilities needed for her to do things like shower.
But that would never make up for her losing her family, and being wheelchair-bound for the rest of her life. She was not happy.
“What the heck am I supposed to celebrate?” she snapped. “I have nothing left.”
“You have one thing left,” I told her. “Me.”
Sara gave me a long look. “Jaime, I’m not the girl I was last week.”
I leaned down and brushed my lips against hers. “Are you sure your brain didn’t get damaged? You’re still the same sweet, kind, patient, gorgeous and intelligent blonde you always were.”
“Are you sure yours didn’t get damaged?” she retorted. “Jaime, I can’t feel anything lower than my upper thighs, and I CAN’T MOVE MY LEGS!”
“I’m not trying to downplay what happened. You lost your parents and your mobility in one horrible stroke. But that doesn’t make you any different. I love you. I will be there for you.”
Her face softened. “I really want to believe that.”
After she came home, I helped Sara with everything. Shopping for food, cooking it, cleaning the house, cleaning her, transferring her to the bed from her wheelchair and vice versa – I was with her 24/7. I accepted the formal role of her official caretaker and was paid for it. After several months of this, Sara smiled at me one day. “Jaime, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first.”
I gently held her hand. “It’s all right.”
“I just knew how much work it would be for you, and assumed you would duck out after a couple of weeks. But there is one thing you haven’t yet done. You haven’t made any attempt to quell my lust.”
I helped her out of her chair and removed her skirt and panties. Sara’s arms and upper body still worked, and she removed her top and bra while I disrobed. I lay next to her on the bed. I moved my lips to hers and we shared a soft, tender kiss.
“Good start,” Sara said with a familiar smirk. She even tossed her head a bit. “Keep kissing me, on other places than just my lips.”
I pivoted my body 180 degrees and kissed her feet, then her ankles.
“You know I can’t feel anything down there.”
“Let me know when you can feel something, my love. I’m going to slowly explore your body.”
I kissed my way slowly upwards but she didn’t feel a thing or react until I reached about midway up her thigh.
“That feels good, Jaime.”
“Found the boundary! Okay, other leg.”
“Okay, now I want a physical thing. Return to my upper body.”
I gently kissed her neck, causing her to emit soft little sounds. Then I moved my lips slowly down towards her chest.
“Dammit, Jaime! Stop teasing!”
“I thought you liked slow foreplay and an extended build-up.”
“Normally, yes, but this is an exception!”
I quickly kissed my way down Sara’s cleavage, then began sucking on one of her nipples.
I switched my mouth back and forth between her nipples, then I kissed down her belly, spread apart her legs (it felt like I was touching a mannequin when I grasped her ankles) and plunged my tongue into her already soaking box.
“Mmmm. Keep going.”
I rubbed her clit as I tongued her. Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave. I kept moving my tongue and about a minute later, I was rewarded with a flood of love nectar.
I lifted my face from between her legs and slid my body upward, lubricating my stiff pole with her leaking fluids, and eased my way inward. I moved very slowly to let her get adjusted, but within two minutes she was begging me to pound her hard.
Ten minutes later, I pulled out. She lifted her head off the pillow and opened her mouth. Her lips sealed around my pole as I slid my body forwards. She lashed her tongue up and down my shaft as I erupted. She swallowed every drop.
I rolled sideways, manually closed her legs for her, and lay next to her.
“I hope you don’t mind being asked multiple times per day. It’s not like I have a lot of other things I can do to make me happy”
For the next six months, when I wasn’t taking care of household chores or Sara’s needs, I would work out. I bought a set of weights and became devoted to getting myself stronger. “What are you doing that for.”
Finally, the day arrived. I scooped Sara out of her wheelchair and manipulated her legs so they were bent around my waist. I held her close, with both arms wrapped around her and under her slim rear. She pressed tightly against me and put her still strong arms around my neck.
“What are you doing, Jaime?”
“Taking you to the park. We’ll walk.”
“You mean you’ll walk.”
“WE will walk. Using my legs exclusively.”
I closed the door behind me and held her the whole way, occasionally kissing her neck. “Isn’t this better than wheeling yourself?
“I’d be lying if I said no. I love when you hold me…”
We sat on a stump and enjoyed about half an hour in the fresh air. From then on, me carrying Sara, though I didn’t do it every time, became an integral part of our life. It increased the closeness. And when we got married a few years later, it was a matter of routine for me to carry her over the threshold.
**This text does not reflect, necessarily, ApartadoX opinion.
