“Well you’re the sexiest I’ve ever seen,” countered Abi.
“Even with my casts and everything?” Greta asked shyly.
“Even with the casts and everything, you are the hottest woman alive. You’ll probably have to pick me up off the ground when I see you naked without them the first time. I can’t believe I’m allowed to just stare at you unabashedly.”
Greta giggled. “You can, but I would rather you touched me.”
“I can do that.” Abi knelt next to Greta and kissed her, the kiss quickly deepening. She would not lie on top of her, not yet. Her broken ribs were still mending, her punctured lung still healing. Now that she was naked, her bruises were on full display. Many of them had healed by now, but a few were so large and deep that they hadn’t even shrunk or faded. There was one enormous bruise on her right side that hadn’t done anything but turn new shades of purple. A smaller one on her left thigh was the same way. Abi had mentioned these to the doctor, who said they were just really bad bruises and could take months to fade away. There were also a lot of cuts in various stages of healing, depending on how deep they were. Some of those would definitely leave scars.
But Greta was still the most beautiful woman Abi had ever seen, and she was eager to make love to her. Each cut, each bruise, each cast was proof positive that Greta had survived something that could have killed her. She was the one who had made it through, the lone survivor mentioned on the news, and Abi would never stop being grateful for that.
Greta was able to hold herself still easily enough while Abi took her time traversing her breasts like an eager explorer: rolling one nipple between her teeth, sucking the other, traveling the space between with her tongue. She had done this several times over the past few weeks, though it still seemed unreal that the breasts she’d spent over a year trying not to stare at were now hers to do what she wanted with.
Soon, though, Greta began urging her downward. Heart pounding, Abi went in for the kill, gently holding onto Greta’s hips to make sure they stayed still. Finally, Greta was able to release all her pent-up sexual energy. Within minutes, she was coming loudly, clutching a pillow in her left hand as she fought the urge to thrust herself further into Abi’s mouth.
Abi stayed in her spot between Greta’s legs until she was sure the redhead was starting to come down from her high. Then she stretched out beside her, tracing shapes on Greta’s flushed skin with her fingers.
“Thank you,” Greta whispered. “Abi, I needed that so much.”
“Yeah, I could tell.”
Greta began fondling one of Abi’s breasts with her good hand. “I can’t wait to have lots of sex with you in the future, especially when I’m better.”
“Me either. That was great. I felt like I was praying at the altar of Greta.”
Greta laughed. “I never thought of it that way.”
“It’s a more spiritual experience than sitting in church trying to stay awake while the vicar drones on, I can tell you that.”
“I can give you another spiritual experience,” Greta said, eyes twinkling.
“How?”
“Sit on my face.”
“Are you sure? What if I lose my balance and fall on you?”
“Well, don’t!”
“Okay,” said Abi hesitantly. “I’ll just hang onto the headboard.”
Very, very carefully, she straddled Greta’s face, feeling the redhead immediately take hold of her rear end with her one good hand. Abi closed her eyes as she felt the softest tongue exploring her folds. She lost herself in the sensation, feeling grateful that she could move her hips if she wanted to (and understanding why it was so hard for Greta not to). She clutched the headboard tightly as she rode the crest of a glorious orgasm.
“There, marriage consummated,” Greta said proudly when Abi was lying beside her again, trying to catch her breath.
“You’re really good at that,” Abi gasped.
“What, oral sex?” Greta licked her lips.
“Hell yeah. You could write a book on it.”
“Well...I have had a little experience.”
“Yeah, sometimes I forget that.”
Greta kissed her cheek. “I’ll give you orgasms lots of different ways as I get better.”
Abi held her close. “I bet you will.”
17
Alone
March 2019
Greta was nearly overcome with excitement when the day finally came to get the casts off her arm and leg. She couldn’t wait to get back on her feet again, to have some semblance of normalcy in her life. She was looking forward to a lot of little things – using the bathroom by herself, shaving both legs, scratching itches. She’d had some really bad itches under her casts.
And as much as she liked Janet, she was ready to just be alone with Abi. She wanted her independence back. More than anything, she wanted uninhibited sex, without a nurse to help set it up!
In her orthopedic doctor’s office that day, both casts were removed, and she got a boot to go on her right foot (it would be at least six weeks before she could put weight on that foot without a boot) and a hemi-walker.
“I think this is the best support for you right now,” Dr. Carlson said, adjusting the small, one-sided walker to fit her height. “I’d give you a full walker, but since your right arm is still stiff and weak, I think this is better. You can lean your full weight on this without it tipping over, but you only use your left hand.” He demonstrated the right way to walk with the hemi-walker, then had her try it.
Greta had thought getting on her feet for the first time in almost two months would be exhilarating, but instead it was terrifying. She felt vulnerable, unstable, weak. She had an overwhelming urge to crawl back into her wheelchair, where she was safe. She was surprised by the intense fear of falling that came over her. Her body just seemed so fragile now. She couldn’t afford to fall, to have any more pain than she was already living with.
“It’s going to take some getting used to,” Dr. Carlson said patiently. “Your body has been through a lot. You’re not going to just get up and start skipping. For now, you’re probably only going to be able to walk short distances with the walker. There will still be situations where it makes more sense to use the wheelchair. But as time passes and you get stronger, you’ll be able to stop needing the wheelchair, and you’ll progress from the walker to a quad cane to a single-point cane.”
“How long will it take for me to walk without any kind of support?” Greta asked.
“That could take a few months,” he said kindly. “But as long as you’re progressing, there is no reason to despair. I’m going to refer you for daily water therapy for the next few weeks, to help you gain some strength and flexibility without putting any stress on your body. Then you’ll move to land therapy, where you’ll work on being able to walk up and down stairs again, things like that. For now, I want you to continue taking the elevator wherever you go. You don’t need any injuries setting back your healing.”
She nodded her understanding, taking Abi’s hand as she asked the question most on her mind. “Am I cleared for sexual activity?”
He smiled. “Whatever you are up to. Listen to your body. If something hurts, stop doing it.”
“I’ll stop doing anything that makes you look like you’re in pain,” Abi told her firmly.
“It’s a process, and you can’t get frustrated with anything that’s too much for now. You’ll continue to improve. It can take a full year to really recover from all the injuries you’ve had,” Dr. Carlson said seriously. “You have to be patient with yourself, because the reality is, you almost died. To have clung to life when you did and to now be back on your own two feet is really quite remarkable. The fact that I expect you to walk unaided again is even more remarkable. But you’re not going to get back to where you were before the crash. Some things are going to be different. You have to accept that.”
“What’s going to be different?” Abi asked, frowning.
“Well, I can’t
answer that completely, because each patient is different. I can’t say for sure if she’ll be able to walk without a limp, or if she’ll ever be as coordinated and graceful as before.” He looked at Greta. “But I do know that joints that have experienced the kind of trauma your hip, ankle, and wrist experienced inevitably develop arthritis over time, and you want to put that off as long as possible. Even when you’re better, you can’t do any high-impact exercises, such as running or jumping. And if you have any high heels at home, you need to get rid of them. The pins holding your ankle together are not going to be able to handle that. I’m afraid it’s going to be orthopedic shoes and low-impact exercise from here on out.”
Greta nodded, blinking back tears. To hear she had to get rid of her favorite shoes was a shock, but she didn’t want to let on. It seemed so petty when she had almost died.
“We’ll adapt,” Abi said, smiling at Greta proudly. “What matters is that you’re still here.”
Abi drove Greta home with the wheelchair folded up in the trunk and the walker at her side. She parked in front of the house and then came around to help Greta out. Leaning heavily on her walker and with her right hand lightly touching Abi’s arm, Greta slowly made her way into the house, making a beeline for the couch so she could sit down.
“Look at you!” Abi said with a grin. “It’s so good to see you moving around on your own again, even if it is only for short distances.”
“It feels so scary,” Greta admitted. “I’m so afraid of getting hurt again.”
“I won’t let you fall,” Abi promised, swiping a strand of hair out of Greta’s face before sitting down beside her. “You look a little sad. Are you upset about not be able to wear heels anymore?”
“I’m trying not to be,” Greta said. “I wasn’t expecting him to say something like that. You know how much I love my shoes.”
“I know.” Abi rubbed Greta’s thigh reassuringly. “But you have lots of nice flats, and you look amazing no matter what you wear. And at least now with your casts gone, you can wear whatever clothes you want.”
“Yes, but some of my dresses look so much better with heels.”
“I know.” Abi pulled her close and hugged her, and Greta was touched by how understanding she was. She knew it was silly to be this sad over such a small detail in the grand scheme of things.
But that wasn’t the only thing she was sad about. There was something even more upsetting she was afraid to mention. From everything she had been told and all she had gathered, she had narrowly escaped death in that plane crash. There were a few injuries that, if they’d been just a little worse or in a slightly different place, could have killed her almost instantly. As it was, there had been a lot of uncertainty as to her survival during her first 24 hours or so in the hospital, and a risk of fatal complications developing even after that. She was very lucky to still be here.
But if she could have come that close to death, then she knew there were probably others around her who had not made it. The man who had been sitting in her seat in first class, the one she had turned down when he offered to go to coach so she could have it, was almost certainly dead. Abi had said first class caught on fire, so she doubted there were any survivors up there, and she knew moving to coach had probably saved her life. But what about the people back there? How many of them had survived? What about the couple with the baby, or the other couple with two small children? What about the nice old lady who had slipped sticks of gum to the children, and the flight attendant who had brought her a pillow and blanket free of charge?
Most of all, she thought about Lauren. Lauren had been sitting next to someone who had almost died. That meant Lauren might have almost died as well – or maybe there was no almost. Greta didn’t know her last name, so she couldn’t look her up on social media, but she knew if she looked that she could find articles on the plane crash, and some of them would likely list the names and ages of the dead. Many times she had been tempted to look to see if Lauren’s name was on such a list, but she couldn’t get up the nerve. It had not escaped her notice that Abi changed the subject whenever Greta wondered aloud about Lauren, which was unlike Abi. If she knew it would make Greta feel better, she would find out about Lauren and tell her. The fact that she seemed keen on skating around the issue made Greta wonder if she already knew the answer and didn’t want to tell her.
“Well, what do you want to do now that you’re home and sort of walking?” Abi asked her.
“A hot bath sounds amazing,” said Greta. “I haven’t had one in so long, and I can shave my legs…”
Abi chuckled. “I’ll go run it for you.”
“Use the water thermometer and make sure the temperature is between 100 and 102 degrees Fahrenheit!” Greta advised.
“Okay. You want any bath salts? Bubbles? Bomb thingies?”
“Yes!”
Abi laughed. “Which one?”
“All of them!”
“Okay! One bath with the works, coming right up!”
The sound of the bath water running upstairs soothed Greta’s nerves. She hadn’t heard the sound since before the crash, as the only baths she’d been taking were sponge baths, and Abi preferred showers. She thought about going up on the elevator by herself, but when she stood, she found the fear of falling petrifying her again. She sat back down. How was it that she had survived falling several miles to the ground and was now absolutely terrified by the thought of falling five feet onto her living room rug?
She was grateful when Abi came back to get her. Abi kept a reassuring hand on her back as she made her slow, careful way to the elevator. They rode up together, and Abi helped her to the master bath, where she found the whirlpool tub filled with bubbles, candles lit around the room, and relaxing music playing.
“You pulled out all the stops!” she said in approval.
“I figured you needed this.” Abi kissed her cheek. “Now are you hoping for alone time, or company?”
Greta smiled. “How about you give me a little time alone so I can shave my legs, and then you join me?”
“Sounds perfect.”
Greta turned her head and captured Abi’s lips. “I didn’t realize how much I missed standing next to you,” she murmured.
“I didn’t either,” Abi said quietly, taking Greta’s face in her hands. “I love you so much. I just…I can’t even tell you how grateful I am that you’re here.”
“I know.” Greta kissed her again. “I’d better get in the water before it gets cold.”
Relaxing in the water, Greta felt the knots in her muscles come undone. She could not let herself worry about the fates of the other people on that plane. She would look it up later, when she was stronger.
Shaving her legs was a bit awkward. Her body didn’t move like it used to, and she found herself shifting around, trying to remember how this was done. She could hear Abi in the bedroom, putting away laundry. She would come running if it sounded like Greta was struggling, so she tried not to splash around in her efforts. Finally, the thick hairs that had grown in under her cast were gone, and her legs were looking much better aside from the long surgery scar on the right one. She took a moment to just lie back in the water with her eyes closed.
When she opened them again, Abi was standing over her in a silk robe.
“Hey,” she said. “Are you ready for some company?”
Greta lit up. “Yes!”
“Scoot up, then.” Abi let the robe fall, revealing her lithe body in all its naked glory. Greta eagerly scooted forwards, letting the taller woman get in behind her, legs on either side of her. Then Greta lay back with her head resting on Abi’s chest, rising and falling with each breath she took. Abi’s arms locked around her.
“This feels good,” Greta murmured.
“Yeah. It does,” Abi said into her hair, her breath making a few strands flutter and tickling Greta’s scalp. One of her hands moved through the soapy water to cup Greta’s breast, fingers drawing tight circles around her nipple, which stiffened in
response. Greta moaned softly, guiding Abi’s other hand between her legs, where she began drawing similar circles around her clitoris. Greta threw her head back, turning so her lips could reach Abi’s long neck, her arm snaking around Abi’s head. She was the sexiest woman alive. How had Greta ended up with her?
“Abi,” she whispered. “I want you inside.”
“You sure you’re ready for that?”
“I know I’m ready to try.”
Abi tentatively slid two fingers inside Greta for the first time. “Good so far?” she asked.
Greta swallowed. “Deeper.”
So Abi went deeper, and Greta carefully raised her hips to receive her. It felt better than good. It was amazing.
“Abi, please.” Greta moved her hips, closing her eyes, and Abi began to move her fingers, slowly at first, then faster and harder as she followed Greta’s lead. The fingers of her other hand continued to tease Greta’s nipple – sometimes circling, sometimes squeezing. As Greta felt her orgasm building, she turned her head and bit down on Abi’s shoulder.
“You’re a biter,” Abi remarked as Greta lay back in her post-orgasmic bliss. “You never told me you were a biter.”
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Greta looked at Abi’s shoulder, where her teeth marks were already fading away.
“Nah. I liked it.” Abi held her wife tightly in her arms. “Greta Lang is a biter.”
Abi was able to help Greta out of the bath and dry her off on her own, raising their confidence that they were going to be able to make it without Janet when she left in a few days. Greta limped into the bedroom with her walker, clad only in a bathrobe and the protective boot, and looked thoughtfully at the bed.
“What do you want to wear?” Abi asked, heading to the closet. “Maybe some jeans and a sweater?”
“Nothing yet,” said Greta.
Abi froze in her tracks. “Oh?”
“You gave me an orgasm in the bath, but I didn’t give you one. I want to now.” She smiled at Abi. “I want to explore what my body can do, now that I don’t have any casts on.”
Survivor's Guilt Page 15
