“Laurel,” Sam says. “Do you remember the first time we went into a gay bar?”
My laughter stops as I think back to that night. I had just turned twenty-one, and we set out to celebrate ‘Lesbian’ style. We wanted somewhere we could go and not be harassed by men, which seemed to happen on a constant basis.
“Yeah, I remember.” My tone was slightly indifferent, I really didn’t want to take a trip down memory lane and have it invoke the one memory I don’t want to relive. But I have to admit, the story was funny and it was always so much more entertaining when Sam told it.
“Okay…,” she says with a smile and winks at me. “Laurel and I had been dying to check out this new lesbian club. We were so sick of the bars on campus, dudes were always hitting on us. Always telling us they could cure us because we’d never been with a real man before. Sometimes they would get too aggressive, and we would have to get a cop to drive us back to our apartment. It was crazy. Anyway, we make a plan for a night out of drinking and dancing without being accosted. So we walk up to the door and see a sign saying it’s leather night.”
I see Cammie giggle. Apparently, this straight girl is more in the know than we were then. I hold out my wine glass, and Sam fills it almost to the rim, and I’m wondering if she’s trying to get me drunk.
“So, we didn’t think anything of it. We both had on leather jackets, and Laurel had on her leather boots. We figured we were good to go if leather was a requirement for entry into the bar. We didn’t notice right away, it took about five minutes before it registered. Apparently, leather night was the equivalent to a Ladies’ Night at this place but for men. I thought Laurel was going to scream because she’s never been with a guy and now we are surrounded by hundreds of big, burly dudes in leather vests, leather chaps, and dicks in the breeze.”
This time Cammie spits out her wine, and I’m about to fall off the couch in my fit of laughter. I begin slapping Sam on the leg like I always would whenever she would make me laugh.
“Wait, I’m not finished,” Sam yells over our laughter. “I grab Laurel by the hand and pull her as fast as I can through the hordes of men with bones in their noses, some with shackles around the neck and ankles and of course all the naked penises we were so desperately trying not to look at. Well, I round a corner a little too fast in my overzealous attempt at fleeing when I see the exit come into view. For some reason, Laurel wasn’t paying attention…”
I yell out through my laughter, “I told you, I tripped over something and I was trying not to fall. I was terrified of what I would land in.”
Cammie can barely contain herself now, and she is sitting on the edge of the sofa practically screaming.
Sam continues, her voice growing in volume, “Laurel wasn’t paying attention, and she smacks face first into one of these dudes. I turn around when I feel the resistance, and then I see her, face smashed into his thick chest hair. She screams and begins to swat at herself.”
Cammie yells out in her labored breath, “Was he?”
“Yup…dick swinging free in all it’s glory.”
This makes Cammie stand up, bend at the waist and howl. And it is always at this point in the story that I no longer think it’s funny and cross my arms over my chest.
“It was disgusting. His chest hair was matted with sweat, and I felt his…” I wave my hand for emphasis, “his thing touch me.”
Now they both are laughing like loons, “Shut up,” I say. “That part isn’t funny.” They’re not stopping. “Wouldn’t be funny if it happened to you.” Nothing is stopping the laugh train, and I’m trying not to smile. I drink down more of my wine, nearly the entire glass and as I swat Sam on the arm, I have the strangest sense of déjà vu. But before I can tap into it, I feel a weird burning sensation.
“Hey, Cammie.” I’m terrified that it has something to do with my face plant earlier. “Cammie, I have this weird pain.”
They both stop laughing and look at me, “Shit,” Cammie says. “I was afraid of this. We need to get you to the hospital now.”
My stomach drops and my heart rate quickens. The fear that’s coursing through me is overriding my buzz.
“What kind of pain?” Sam asks me as she gently turns my face to hers.
I think for a minute because it’s familiar…but intense. “It feels like someone is sticking hot pins into my ass cheeks.”
“What?” Cammie pulls Sam from the couch and lays me out on it face down. It all happens so fast, and I’m still in a bit of a fog.
“What the hell are you doing?” Suddenly I feel this stabbing pain and I yelp. “Sam, what the fuck is she doing back there?”
Sam is smiling, and I’m wondering how creepy this party is now getting. “She is stabbing you in the ass with Eleanor’s knitting needle.”
My face twists up in confusion and considering the story Sam just told my mind is taking me to the dirty side, but then I suddenly realize she is checking me for feeling. And I can feel it. I can feel my ass again. Oh my God…it feels so good just to be able to feel my ass.
Chapter Nine
I t’s been almost a month since my ass woke up, and it wasn’t the only thing awake in my lower half…my female parts have been resurrected as well. It was one of the most amazing things for me when the catheter was removed, and I was able to pee on my own. It was a strange sensation at first, kind of tickled. I know it probably would sound odd to anyone, but I’m just so elated to be able to use the bathroom for more than just emptying my waste bags. The other thing that popped into my head almost immediately was…orgasm. And I’m wondering if I’ll be able to have them. I think why that shouldn’t be the case, I mean…I have feeling down there, but I’m terrified to find out. Guess, I think if I can’t get there…come that is, then what? What would I do, could I do? I think it would be fucked up to be able to feel my legs again, to be able to walk again, but not be able to have sex. I think it would just be an unfair punishment…after all, I’m kind of a sex doctor and need to be able to relate to my patients from the sexual experiences I had and hope to continue to have.
I’ve been able to stave off the curiosity to find out on my own whether or not I can derive sexual pleasure from masturbating, but it hasn’t been easy. I know as strange as it sounds, I’ve been too chicken the few times I was with Lily to let her try and pleasure me. I would let her take me just about to the brink each time, but stop her before she touches me there. It certainly hasn’t been easy because she’s quite the little firecracker in the sack. But I prefer to keep it the way it was with me tending to her needs. She just seemed so excited about the possibility of reciprocating, but I didn’t want to be pressured.
It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen her and I think it’s mostly out of guilt because of the last time we were together at her place. I really thought I would be ready to take it there, but when she put her hand into my panties, I instantly told her to stop. But in her passion filled mindset, she didn’t, saying ‘come on baby, I know I can get you there.’
My hand clamped down on hers as I said in a raised and harsh tone, “I said fucking stop.”
She pulled her hand away, the combination of frustration, hurt and embarrassment twisted up her facial expression. I still feel awful for being so mean to her, she didn’t deserve it. Lily has been nothing but kind, caring, and understanding. She said she understood my apprehension, but I’ve still been avoiding her. I’m more pissed at myself than I am at her, she really didn’t do anything wrong. And I know I wouldn’t be so understanding. I’m a hypocrite, and I’m definitely a bitch. I really do like this girl, so I don’t know what the hell my problem is. I’m so turned on, my area awake and screaming to be touched scared me to go any further. Stupid…I know, I’m really not sure what I’m afraid of other than if the orgasm doesn’t happen and I end up frustrated.
It’s after 2:00 a.m. and I’m stretched out in my bed wide awake. Every muscle in my body is aching because I’ve been pushing myself hard in every therapy session sin
ce some of the feeling in my lower half has come back. I guess I can’t sleep because I can’t get Lily out of my head, and I can’t stop thinking about sex.
I’m wondering if I should just get it over with and try and bring myself to orgasm. At least then I’ll know if everything still works like it should. Since the feeling has returned, I have spent every night thinking about sex just so I could feel my body awaken and feel my area begin to throb. But I never dare touch it, I just wanted to know I was able to be aroused again. And now I’m mentally arguing with myself to just go ahead and do it, touch myself to relieve the growing need I have between my legs. But then I think how long it’s been since I’ve felt the touch of a woman’s tongue there, and the more I think about it, the more I can feel my body react, and now I want anyone but my own hand pleasuring me. Why the hell would I waste the first orgasm to my newly awakened body on masturbation? Hell no…I want to be touched, and I want to be touched now. The more I think about it, the more I want to kick myself that I’ve wasted these opportunities with Lily.
Before I even realize what I’m doing and what time of day it is, I grab my phone from the nightstand and press Lily’s call button. It rings three times, and I’m tempted to hang up, but before I do, she answers.
“Hey there,” she says in her sweet raspy voice.
“Hey yourself…did I wake you?” I ask as a smile spreads across my face.
“Um, not really. Got in not too long ago.”
“Really? Did you have a date?”
I hear her chuckle, “No…just hanging out with some friends. Would it matter if I had a date?”
I can hear the attitude in her voice, she is probably a little pissed off that I’ve been MIA. Not that I blame her, but in my defense, we’re not an exclusive couple, so I don’t mind. Well, that’s not true…I do mind.
“Well I’m really not the jealous type, but of course I mind.”
“That’s nice to know,” she says. This time her tone is more cheery.
“I’m sorry I’ve been ghosting you…just been working some shit out.”
“No worries, I totally get it.”
I’m not sure what I did to deserve this sweet girl in my life, and I’m wondering how it is I’ve come to have a girlfriend. My relationships, if you can call them that, never go beyond weeks let alone months. But I’m a captive audience here, maybe that’s why, or maybe it’s because I’m in this chair. Maybe that’s why I’m not in the hunt like I was.
“Do you want to hang out after my therapy tomorrow?”
Several seconds pass and I know she’s thinking I’m a tease but in reality…so not.
“Um, sure. What did you have in mind?”
“Pizza, beer…naked fun.”
Another moment of silence elapses before she responds to my declaration about the possibilities of sex.
“Sounds promising…but only if you’re sure this time.”
“Definitely sure. I’ve been thinking about you all night, and I’m ready to take the next step. I want to know what it feels like again.”
I can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “I’m so honored that you want me to be the one. But I have to admit I’m amazed that you haven’t tried it out on yourself.”
I giggle, “I’m sure most would be amazed that I haven’t touched myself. But, believe me, it’s not that I haven’t thought about it. Maybe it’s fear, but mostly I think it’s because I want the first time to be more special than a quick rub-off.”
Her voice booms on the other end with a laugh, “Makes sense.”
“So how ‘bout I text you after my therapy?”
“Sounds good.”
“Awesome. Well, I guess I should get some sleep. Cammie has been kicking my ass lately.”
“Okay…looking forward to tomorrow. Good night beautiful, sweet dreams,”
“Good night, love,” I say and end the call. I hope now that I’ve made a conscious decision my brain will stop dwelling on it and I can get to sleep.
I’ve been giving Cammie two-hundred percent of my effort since I regained this feeling back. Doing everything she tells me to do, adhering to every rule she has set in place in hopes that the feeling will come back to my legs. I know even when it does, I still have a long road ahead of me. I won’t be able to just get up and walk. Cammie tells me I’ll have to learn how to walk again. Like a baby taking their first steps. Although it’s not encouraging to see the road ahead of me, I’m just thankful and very hopeful that one day I’ll be able to leave this chair behind.
“You have to be patient,” Cammie says as she works my legs.
“I’m trying,” I say. I glance at the clock on the wall. We’ve gone a little over today, so I’m later than I want to be for my date with Lily, and I still need a shower.
“You’ll get there. Have faith, Laurel. I’ve seen similar cases like yours and you regaining some feeling is a good sign…actually a great sign.”
She finishes the massage therapy and whacks me on my bare ass like she has been doing since the feeling came back. I roll over, and she looks away from my nakedness as the blush creeps up her neck.
“Keep smacking my ass, and I’m gonna start thinking you like me.”
She smiles as she tosses the sheet back over me, “Dream on.”
“Girls are only straight until they’re not,” I say with a wink. I’m just kidding around. I know she’s straight and I’m really not coming on to her. I see her more like a sister to me than anything else.
She shakes her head with a grin, “I’ll be right back.”
“Wait…what? Can you help me into my chair before you go?”
“Just give me a couple minutes,” she says as she walks away from the table.
Now I’m alone and lying flat on my back on the massage table which is still three feet in the air. Cammie could have lowered it at least, not that it would’ve been helpful since I’m still working on sitting up on my own. I don’t want to try getting up since she pretty much twisted me into a pretzel, and I don’t want to aggravate anything. So I just lay here and wait.
I pick up my phone and send Lily a quick text to let her know my session ran late and I haven’t been in the shower yet. She says she would come to get me and we could shower together, but I’m too sweaty and sticky. Plus I’m not really sure how we could shower together. Seems like it would be an impossibility since I can’t stand up. But I don’t burst her bubble, I just let her know I’ll text her when she should head over. This way, by the time she arrives to pick me up I’ll be dressed.
I glance at the clock again. Cammie’s ‘be right back’ has turned into fifteen minutes and I’m wondering where the hell she is, so I roll to my side and push myself up on my arms. I scan the room and find that it’s empty. My chair isn’t next to the table. It’s about ten feet away, and I’m questioning why she moved it…I guess that is her way of keeping me put. I pick up my phone and text her.
Where the hell are you?
I hit send and wait hoping she will pop back in the room or text me back something to let me know how long I’ll have to lay here.
But several more minutes pass and nothing. “What the Hell,” I say aloud before I start yelling for her.
I call her name at least three times without a response, and now I’m starting to get really pissed off. I have half a mind to fire her for doing this to me. I know I won’t get another therapist as good as her so I won’t fire her…but I’ll definitely tell her about herself when I see her. This is unacceptable. I yell out again as loud as I can. If this request goes unanswered, then I guess I’ll have to call someone else for help.
A few minutes pass by, and as I start scrolling through my contacts for someone who would be in the house. However, before I can make a ‘mayday’ call, I hear a voice come from behind me, and my eyes close. Sam.
“Hey, I heard you call out. You sound in distress,” Sam says as she makes her way to my line of sight.
“Where is Cammie?” I ask, my voice filled wi
th disdain.
“She had to run out.”
“Run out? Did she forget what she was doing? I mean, I’m on this table with no way to get back to my chair.” I shake my head, “This is fucking ridiculous.”
She approaches me with a smile on her face, and I’m wondering why the fuck she’s smiling. This is not a moment for smiling. Seriously…I’m pissed off that I was forgotten and I’m even more pissed that Sam is standing in front of me and I have to ask her for help. But before I can say anything, she pushes the hair hanging over my left eye behind my ear and locks her gaze to mine.
“Will you go get my chair and lower this stupid table? I have somewhere I need to be,” I say, but she doesn’t move.
Her eyes are searing into mine, capturing me into a deer in headlights syndrome and I’m having difficulty looking away. Suddenly I’m transported back in time and my stomach clenches, and for a moment I forget I loathe this blue-eyed blonde. Then without a request or permission, she lowers her mouth to mine.
I turn my head breaking our lip to lip contact, “What the hell are you doing? Why did you just kiss me?”
“Because you’re so beautiful, Laurel.”
Then she kisses me again, and suddenly I’m spellbound by the familiarity of her lips, the smell of her cologne, and hair. I’m taken back to a place in time before my heart turned cold…before my hatred of Sam was the motivation I used to keep my heart locked away. But now I’m letting her kiss me, and I’m reveling in it…in her, the taste of her lips, and I sink into it twisting my fingers through her blonde locks.
She deepens the kiss, pushing her tongue into my wanting mouth and I pinch my eyes tight to ensure they’re closed. Because the way I’m feeling now, so right and so turned on I know if I open them and see her face again the spell would be broken. So I allow the fantasy or the denial, not sure which one I’m in right now, and it didn’t matter. I just let it continue.
It's All Coming Back To Me Page 7
