My wife, Sheila, was sitting there, her head down as though in deep
thought. I had expected her to be happy, even buoyant. Our twins had
just graduated from university, after all. No more tuition and on campus
living expenses. They both had great jobs that they would be starting
the very next week. Our days of financial strains were over. Finally
over! The kids weren’t even moving out of town. Their apartments were a few
miles away, Shawn’s in one direction, and Shel’s in the other.
I decided not to butt into her thoughts, but to let her cogitate. I
clicked on the TV to catch up on the baseball scores and highlights.
Sheila glanced up at the sudden sounds of sports announcers.
“I’m leaving you, John.” She said matter-of-factly, her voice barely
audible above the television.
After lowering the sound level, I asked “What did you say, hon?”
She was more assertive the second time, as though she had at long last
made a final decision. “I am leaving you, John” she said levelly. Her
eyes bored into mine, daring me to react negatively.
My voice no longer worked. Nor would my mouth close. It simply hung
open in stark disbelief, pointed the same direction that my eyes were
staring. I have NO idea how long I sat there, immobile, too shocked to
think.
Sheila must have taken that as a sign to talk. “I am going to move out
tomorrow.”
‘ToMORROW? What the hell? Move OUT????’ I realized my mouth had not
moved, nor had I spoken, but my thoughts were as loud as if I were
screaming.
“I know you’re kind of surprised.” Her voice was soft again, but there
was no warmth there. Her eyes stared at the TV screen, looking
anywhere but at my face.
Like most women, she could not stand the blank air, the silence, so she
started talking, confessing to me, not to gain absolution, but instead
to inform me just how blind and dumb I had been for the last couple of
decades.
Sheila stood there looking at a shattered body of a man with both arms
in casts and suspended from the gleaming chrome rack above, one leg in
a cast, his mouth wired shut, and a head-cast that extended down below
his arm pits.
Her mind could not comprehend that this man was being released from the
hospital! And SHE was supposed to care for him? The task seemed
monumental.
Somehow the poor man, her husband’s brother, did indeed make it home,
to her house, to the house where she and her husband maintained a
fragile peace, a semblance of friendship.
The hospital bed and the wrack above seemed to take up the whole guest
bedroom. Thank god it was a one story house!
The nurses that had brought the shattered body in sedated him and
explained to her that he would sleep all night. They showed her how to help
him use the bedpan, change the bladder bag, check his IVs, and connect
the liquid nourishments.
After the first week, she became comfortable with the routine of her
day, punctuated by the periodic caring for Daniel’s bodily needs.
Cleansing his tracheotomy was the part she liked least, well that and the bed
pan routine.
She was giving Daniel his sponge bath that next afternoon when she
noticed the hunger in his eyes. She was washing his genitalia.
His penis began to swell involuntarily in her hand. She had not really
thought much about it before, his penis, but now, with it swelling,
moving, it demanded that she look at it. She blushed as she felt a
certain flutter in her tummy. She was touching her husband’s brother’s
penis, and it was responding to her gentle ministrations. This was
surreal.
Why had she never really thought about this before? Why had she never
recognized that her gentle ablutions would arouse him?
Why was it arousing her?
Perhaps it was the sense of duty that made her ask. Perhaps it was
that her husband had taken to falling asleep in his chair before he came
to bed at night now. But she felt a certain longing to ‘see through’
the swelling she had started.
Blushing, she looked at Daniel’s pleading eyes. “Do you need relief
Daniel?” she asked gently He blinked hard once, which was their agreed
upon signal for “Yes”.
The unwelcome butterflies in her belly began to flutter in random
sensual caresses. She felt the unbidden heat in her own body begin to rise.
She tried to deny her reactions, but could not. When she looked back
down, her hand was slowly stroking Daniels need. It was still growing
in her hand!
‘My god he’s bigger than I realized!’ she thought. He was still
swelling as she watched her hand lovingly caress his swelling member. Still
it grew. ‘Thick, . . . . . my god! Its REALLY thick!” she thought.
Her soft fingers didn’t reach around it any more! And it was still
growing!
It’s core felt like steel under the soft coating of flesh. She could
feel every little knobby and vein along its enviable shaft.
Her eyes wide in disbelief, without even thinking, Sheila blurted out
“My GOD Daniel, you’re TWICE as big as John!” She was immediately
incredibly embarrassed, even shamed. Her eyes sought his, as though begging
forgiveness.
There were tears in his eyes. They were focused acutely on her white
small hand stimulating him. He uttered a strangled moan, then his
manhood erupted in a six inch geyser of white milky wetness,
And another,
And another,
And another,
Her hand was thoroughly drenched, his penis was awash in sperm, his fat
swollen testicles were covered in white stickiness, the bed was
rapidly soaking up the liquids, and still he spurted!
She sensed more than saw him collapse into sweet release. The corner
of his lips curled upward for the first time since his accident.
©2007 Hugh Doute
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