by Lucian Bane
It was nothing but pure love for Ben that filled her hands then removed her dress.
He stared at her nakedness, fire licking inside his eyes, burning its love and fate beyond her skin. The urge to cover herself was consumed by his adoration that shook her heart and breaths.
“Closer,” he whispered, his eyes in a forever stare on her breasts. She’d never stop seeing this exact moment, never stop feeling it as he took hold of her soul and infused strength right into her female bones.
Regrets
Ben needed to control his breathing, his heart rate. The last time it got out of control, it cost him. Cost him more than pain. He hid the tremors in his right hand that still never subsided from the first episode, keeping his fist at his side. He needed to see her feel good and judging by the increase of his symptoms, something said few opportunities remained. He needed to make this count. Something she’d never forget. Something he’d never forget.
She knelt on the bed then lowered her butt onto her folded legs. “What should I do?” she whispered. “I’m scared this hurts you.”
Ben’s eyes were locked onto the way her full breasts pushed together between her arms, tense in her lap. What should she do? Panic hit Ben at coming up with nothing. Something was going on that had her naked in the bed, but what got her to that point? By her question, he’d prompted her to this point. He wanted her to feel good. Right. He just needed to remember that. Nothing else mattered.
“Touch yourself,” he said, urgency stealing his breath.
“Where?” she finally asked.
“Anywhere, everywhere. Where it feels good. Where you want me to touch you, show me. Start where it feels really good.”
She let out several breaths, lowering her head a little before she brought her hands up to her breasts. Her fingers glided over the outer mounds, gradually moving toward her hardened nipples. Light perspiration formed on Ben’s skin as his breath lodged in his chest.
“That’s it,” he whispered, wanting more. “Touch it.”
Her fingertips glided over her nipples and she let out three sharp breaths, drawing his gaze to her face.
“You want me to touch you there?”
She nodded, continuing to stroke her fingers over her nipples. Ben was torn between her breasts and seeing the look on her face.
“Where else. Show me.”
The words blasted out of him as she lowered her hands to the bed then very slowly opened her knees.
“Wider,” he whispered. “Show me. Show me how you want me to touch you there.”
“Ben,” she barely said, placing one hand behind her, the other one moving between her legs. She stroked her fingers over the soft dark hair. The soft cry drew his gaze up to watch the rapture on her face, turned up with her lips parted and eyes closed. Her mouth opened wider with a moan and he shot his gaze back between her legs.
“Baby,” he whispered, angling his head to see more.
It was as if that one word removed the shackles of inhibition and she opened her legs more, her hand reaching farther between, producing wet sounds that brought an orgasm to throb in his cock.
“Cheryl,” he panted, harder. “Your finger is inside you? Is that how you masturbate?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “I want your fingers in me. Deep and…so fast.”
Ben prayed he’d last till she showed him every single thing he had no clue about. The way she moved her hips into her jabbing hand had him boiling.
“And here,” she moaned, bringing her fingers forward to move in circles at the front.
“There?”
“Yes,” she moaned, frantic. “I…I want you to kiss it here,” she said breathless. “Oh Ben…it’s so hot here.”
“Hot,” he gasped. She was rubbing the clitoris where a woman peed. “It feels good there?”
“So good, Ben. So hot.”
“Don’t stop,” he ordered, needing to see what came next, sure there was more.
“I’m going to come, Ben…” she barely cried. “Can I come?”
Come? How exactly would she? Could she? “God, do it. Show me how you come.” It was difficult to hate himself for not knowing that she could come this way while he was in the middle of loving it more than anything he’d ever loved in his life.
“Cheryl,” he groaned as her two middle fingers moved in perfect, fast circles over her clitoris.
“Ben! Oh Ben! Ben! Ben!” she cried, her body shuddering and shaking like a mild electrocution. All he knew and could think in that second was she never did that with me.
Ben pressed a hand over his cock like somebody holding back an avalanche. God, he wanted nothing more than to orgasm with her. But in that second, he was thinking that would likely cause him a stroke. And now that there was a chance to live, he didn’t want to screw that up.
Ben felt like he’d just had an orgasm with her as Cheryl crawled to him and lay her head in his lap, curling her naked body next to him. He reached out and stroked her back and side and hip, finding himself taken over by the desperate hunger to never stop touching her. Feeling her.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered, making his hand freeze on her hip.
“Why?”
“I…can’t believe I did that in front of you.”
He resumed stroking her silky skin. “I can’t believe I went this long without seeing it.”
“You…liked it?”
Her tiny voice stirred his soul until his heart hurt. “I could never love anything more. Except you. Doing that.”
He smiled at her happy laugh. “How about you get my laptop, so I can look into this insane sounding head procedure. You can stay right where you are while I do. Like my naked, sexy secretary.”
She lifted up and smiled at him, but Ben’s gaze zeroed in on her breasts. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, daring to reach up and touch the very tip of one of her nipples.
He eyed her when she sucked in a breath, making his cock jerk. “I’ll go get the laptop,” she whispered, looking down at what he did to her. She eyed him and smiled. “Later, maybe you can…kiss them while...”
Ben lowered his hand at feeling the sudden tremor in it, closing his eyes with the burn of her words. While she masturbated?
God, she wanted his fingers in her, making love to her like he’d watched her do. He wanted to feel what that was like. He always loved how hot and wet and soft she was when they made love. He missed that.
He watched her slip into a white silk robe and tie it, her pretty smile peeking at him over her shoulder. “You’re staring?”
“Yes.”
“You like watching?”
His cock jerked with a desperation. “I love it.”
She hurried back to him with a smile but something electrifying in her eyes spoke directly to his cock. She gave him a careful peck on the cheek and hurried off, leaving him to somehow survive the most brutal hard on.
He recalled the times when they made love. He realized he missed far more than that with her. So much more. He mourned the things his ignorance stole from him. Like masturbation. That was something young kids dealt with, he’d never even considered it in marriage, certainly not as something a couple would do. Together. Why shouldn’t it be permissible? They belonged to each other. As long as they were doing it together, for each other, with each other, where was the sin in that?
Ben wasn’t about to violate God’s laws even while being shaken like a ragdoll in the jaws of death and regret. He considered it carefully, allowing his mind to sift prudently through what he knew. After a long moment, there was nothing he could find prohibiting it. Except for a man’s seed not being wasted, he found nothing. And for Cheryl, there was no way for her to have any more kids since her emergency surgery with Charlie.
If God wanted a sin to be known, He was capable of having it written clearly. Ben was astute but not a fanatic that would project interpretation just to fit what he wanted or didn’t want, like many people he knew did.
He turned his mind
to other sexual topics. The particular one that would never cease to burn in his mind. I want you to kiss me here.
Oral sex was one thing he’d known about but sort of considered it something that wasn’t really entertained by religious people. Cheryl never made any indication that she’d wanted anything like that. And he never thought to want it for himself either. It just…. didn’t seem like a natural thing to want, so his mind never contemplated it.
Now, he couldn’t stop pondering it. I want you to kiss me here.
Thick arousal hammered his midsection until he was nearly dizzy with it. At least it seemed from that. It was a distraction from the usual entertainment he got from Big Grumpy Gorham.
His attention turned to Charlie, and joy talked his lips into a smile. The relief in his boy’s eyes and face. The thrill and hope. “This is a miracle!” he’d cried. Ben agreed that it was, even though he hadn’t a clue about any of it yet. There was plenty of reason to question everything about it. And yet, that was the very nature of miracles--vehemently demanding of our human doubt. By that merit, the head transplant was top-notch miracle quality. A seeming impossibility grinning with an absurd possibility.
Ben didn’t or wouldn’t deny the hope it gave all of them. He’d take what he could get and hold onto it with all his strength.
The door opened and Ben watched his smiling wife enter with her arms full. “I may have to make two trips.” She kicked the door shut and hurried to the foot of the bed. “I have your laptop, your mouse, uh, mouse pad.” She leaned and deposited the electronic load onto the bed. “Charger, glasses, ummm…” She looked at him. “What else?”
What else? Ben had no idea because he couldn’t think past the beauty in her face and smile. He knew that at this stage of the disease his vision might be impacted, his perceptions too. He was positive he was seeing different things. Or maybe seeing more—deeper than before. She seemed to be glowing and there was a literal light in her eyes that made him want to call her closer, see if it was just the angle.
“I can’t think of anything. Besides needing the bathroom,” he realized.
“Oh, I do have a simple home-made bathroom idea for that!”
She hurried out the room before he could ask, staring at his laptop. Reaching with his leg, he used his foot to work it toward him. Once it was in his lap and opened, he realized it was dead as can be. He eyed his charger and gave a sigh of defeat. He wasn’t ready to attempt more. Spending over a month deteriorating in the hospital while they learned he was hopeless, aggressively hopeless, had weakened his body.
He spied his glasses and realized he’d forgotten he’d ever worn them. Alarm sped up his heart. What else did he forget? Not knowing the answer threatened to send him into a panic. He needed to have Cheryl go over everything in their life, every detail, so he could keep track. Funny he could recall every negative promise the disease had made to him. He needed leverage if he was going to fight back.
The second he thought the words, he recalled how some people gained more abilities with some disease. There was no reason to think his case should be different. Ben wasn’t high maintenance when it came to hope. He needed just a little light to get through any darkness.
He decided it was time to exercise his deep-faith muscles if he was going to battle. That meant not just hoping for good things but expecting them.
“Voila,” Cheryl sang entering with a wagging mason jar.
“Interesting.” He eyed her, finding himself unable to not smile at her as she came to a stop next to him, eyes at his midsection.
“Do you want me to give you privacy?”
For that? “Definitely.” There was nothing sexy about urinating in a jar and being attractive for her suddenly felt like the most important thing in his life.
She hurried to the closet and pulled down a blanket. Back at the bed, she opened it and spread it over his groin, then lifted the edge and slipped the jar under it, that twinkle in her eyes aimed at him.
He took it, wondering her plan for when he needed to go the bathroom for jobs a jar wasn’t cut out for. He unscrewed the lid and placed his penis in the opening. He could manage a bathroom trip with the wheelchair. He wasn’t in the best shape, but he wasn’t an invalid.
His bladder took its time emptying and Ben eyed Cheryl as she busied herself setting up his laptop. As a rule, Ben had shown appreciation for the gift of life by taking care of his body. So did Cheryl. They both ate healthy and exercised. By current standards, he felt like they were attractive middle-aged people. Ben caught a glimpse of her breast in the gaping robe, making his cock lift in the jar. Cheryl still had the body of a twenty-something-year-old and now all he wanted to do was stare at it. Naked. Every angle. As if all his newfound knowledge demanded he make up for every stupid neglect before it was too late.
“Done,” he announced when she set the laptop next to him from her side of the bed. “How’s Charlie?”
“He’s in bed,” she whispered, taking the jar from him. He was relieved she didn’t make comments about it as she set it on the floor next to her nightstand. She straightened and gave him a sudden smile. He almost commented about that light in her eyes, but his gaze lowered to her hands on her robe tie. She slowly tugged the sash, releasing it. He stared at the white silk panties beyond and the way it covered her mound like a gift. He lifted his gaze to her breasts, seeing the outer swell of her cleavage. “Your secretary is ready.”
His breath left him and went into his cock as she opened the robe and let it fall to the floor. He grunted and pressed his hand on his cock, raising his gaze to catch her smile. She liked that reaction. He was eager to know everything she liked. She eyed his hand on his cock with a look that said watching him aroused her. A lot.
The need to do too much reminded him about his mission. “I’m going to work.” If it killed him. “Learn everything I can about this operation and what we need to do first.”
“You just need to call Dr. Vindel,” she hurried in a soft voice. Hopeful.
“I will,” he assured.
“He said you can call any time.” She clearly wanted him to drop everything and call him in that second.
He considered that and raised his brows. “Get the phone, then.”
Her joyful squeal sounded like a lottery winner and it made Ben chuckle as she raced to the desk behind her and raced just as fast back with the phone. “I have it programmed in,” she said, her words shaking. She handed the phone to him. “Just press send.”
Ben took the phone, then her wrist, holding it as he stared up at her. The breathless anticipation in her face told him a dozen secrets that had him frantic to explore. It called him to lead her sexually. It wasn’t something he’d ever done or had the desire to, but now that he had a small taste, it ranked up there with needing oxygen.
“Kiss me.” It’s what he’d initially wanted. It wasn’t leading per-se, but judging by her response to that simple request, it was exactly what she needed and craved from him.
Ben waited for it, remaining still. She pressed her lips against his and he allowed his own to part, giving her access to do what she’d done before. She’d used her tongue. He liked that, wanted that. He never wanted to kiss again without feeling her tongue in his mouth, he realized.
Her hitched, tentative breaths heated his mouth as she kissed along his parted lips. A delicate, innocent trek of exploration. He opened more, letting her know where he wanted her to explore. She parted her lips more too, angling her head as though searching for the right spot. Ben reached for her lips with his tongue and the single swipe he managed rewarded him with her sharp breath followed by tiny moans. The sound drew his harsh groan as hungry heat pummeled his cock. He wanted to say more, but instead he said, “Stop.”
She drew back sharply, a look of worry on her face.
“Because if you don’t,” he explained, eyeing her. “I don’t’ know what will happen.”
The gradual melting of her face into a shy, aroused out of her mind woman only added
more heat to his groin. God, he could hardly believe this erotic angel had been living with him all these years and he hadn’t met her till now. That was the real tragedy.
Calling About a New Head
Ben hit send on the phone and held out his arm to Cheryl who moved to put her robe back on. He barely shook his head no, realizing his mistake when she crawled on the bed and sat next to him, watching and waiting.
It was hard not to gasp his hello when the man answered the phone. “Mrs. Rabinowski?”
“Uh, Mr. actually.”
A brief pause ended with his, “Oh my God, hold on.”
Ben eyed Cheryl’s breasts, waiting as clamoring sounded on the line. She had perfect breasts he realized.
“I’m so sorry,” the man said. “I had to get my glasses and where I could speak. It’s so very good to meet you, hear from you. I take it Mrs. Rabinowski has informed you of our proposition?”
“She did, but I was hoping to get all the details from you.”
“Absolutely,” he said, sounding ecstatic. “Where should I start?”
“The beginning would work for me.”
He gave a boisterous laugh before diving right in with, “First, I have to tell you something. Being a man of Science, I am in the minority as a believer in miracles. If I told you some of the things I have seen in my career, you would understand. And I must tell you right off, that I had intended to call first thing in the morning. Are you ready for this Mr. Rabinowski?”
“I…am,” he said, deciding against a witty answer.
“We have found… a donor. And not just that. Can I call you Ben?”
“Yes.”
“Ben, not just that, but we have two huge investors that are willing to pay for everything.” The man finished in giddy giggles while Ben processed that sudden bit of staggering news.
“Wow.”
