tagNovels and NovellasCrucifix: Longing Ch. 02

Crucifix: Longing Ch. 02

byBrowniepoints©

This is the second chapter of Crucifix: Longing. Please note that there are references to the main character's sister. If you've not read Crucifix: Temptation, you might want to as it will help you understand the 'William' character a bit better.

Enjoy,

Browniepoints


CRUCIFIX: LONGING

{...} indicate the speaker's thoughts

CHAPTER 2. MEET WILLIAM

"Jeez, Will, if you don't stay still, I'm never going to get this right." Adam Bardole spoke with false anger towards his best friend as he worked to get the mold of Williams' leg done. "You know, if I screw this up Will, you're going to have to be here for another hour. And I'll be here for two more hours. But that's not gonna happen, buddy. Nope. Gotta meet Candice at the store. It's our anniversary. One of them. That's what she...implied."

William Fitzpatrick rolled his eyes jokingly. But he knew Adam was right, he needed to stay still. After all, Adam was the best custom prosthetics maker in Atlanta; and, William didn't want to screw up this. The Atlanta Marathon was five months away and he wanted to be ready for it. He needed his prosthetic running leg to be just as good as his daily walking leg. "Yeah, yeah. I hear you."

"Seriously. It's the sixth anniversary, at least I think, of our first time, or first kiss or, hell, I don't know. Hell, it's some fucking anniversary. I just know it's not our wedding anniversary. That's a good two weeks away. Either way, I'm getting laid tonight, and you're not getting in my way." Adam burst out laughing as he checked the timer for the casting agent.

William sighed and shook his head, "Okay, okay. See, I'm stiff as a board. Apparently not as stiff as your board, but I'll be still, okay? Oh, and Dare, it's next Wednesday, genius." He pointed to the calendar and absent-mindedly stared at the pictures which hung on the wall beside the calendar in Adam's workroom. William looked at the pictures of his best friend with collegiate track medals around his neck.

Adam's eyes grew large as he turned to the calendar, "Fuck. I'm so screwed."

William laughed vaguely as he more intently looked at the pictures. His mind wandered and tried to recapture the feeling of medals around his own neck. But it was so long ago, when he was seventeen.

Yes, that could have been him in those pictures. It could have been... 'if'... 'If'... is such a powerful word. 'If" is a word that could change the course of history 'if' it was possible.

But 'ifs' and 'wishes' don't really happen, do they? Because, 'if' Mark Trenton hadn't been drinking. 'If' Mark Trenton hadn't been driving. 'If' God had intervened. 'If' only...

William looked down at his right leg, well, what remained of it. He thought of his parents and how they died that night nearly nine years ago. He used to wish he'd died along with them. But then he thought of his sister.

He adored his big sister. Claudia was everything a kind and loving woman should be. She was the type of woman William could only dream of having...even though he was quite content with his current relationship.

William's admiration for Claudia grew immensely when she showed that she was willing to give up her life, her love, essentially, everything to care for her little brother. But, as Fate would have it, she didn't have to. Brody Anderson, the man with whom she'd fallen in love, the man who's child she had carried for so long without his knowing, came back into her life. Which, by default, put him into William's world, too.

He'd never forget the night Brody jerked him around and said, 'Fucking grow up, kid. This is the real world, welcome to it. It's time for you to get over yourself and grow up. I know you're mad as hell at everything right now, but sitting here playing video games and belittling your sister isn't going to make you feel any better.'

They were harsh words. But they were the truth. William could have wallowed in his own personal quagmire of pity and loathing. He could have continued to blame so many people. The restaurant that served Mark Trenton his first and second drink. The bar where he got two or three more. The 'Quick and Go' where he bought the six pack. Joyce Trenton for leaving her husband. William's own father, for taking the shortcut. And for a while, William even blamed God for letting it all happen.

But, his faith was the one thing he refused to let become tarnished by something that was beyond his control. It was the one thing he refused to give up on. It was the one thing that had remained a constant in his life. It was the one thing that was there so long before him and it would be there longer, still, after him. That was assured.

Besides, he knew that if he chose to blame an omnipotent being for his own personal anguish then he was setting himself up for a lifetime of anger, doubt and sadness. And William decided he was already pretty damn fucked up, so why make it worse? So, he put it behind him. Well, as best he could.

But it was hard and it took a lot of time. Losing the leg was one thing, but learning to walk all over again, that was a horse of an entirely different color. He'd never forget the first step he took with his bulky prosthetic limb.

It was a day etched into his memory like some bad tattoo acquired during a drunken night at Spring Break. Not because it was a 'cool thing' but rather it was because, he fell flat on his face immediately after taking his first step, just like some poor inebriated sot would do when he stood to walk away from the tattoo parlor. William felt like a fool lying there on the floor of the physical therapy room.

And to make matters worse it was so heavy and even with that stupid sock it rubbed along the portion of his lower right leg that remained, leaving it raw and bloodied. So not only did he have to worry about falling down again and again and again; but, he also had to deal with the physical pain as well as the mental sting of seeing his body irrevocably altered. But then again, if it was just a tattoo, he could always suffer through laser treatments to take it away. Unfortunately, William knew there was no such 'miracle' treatment for amputees.

However, he eventually did used to all of it, not just the hurt from the damage to his leg, but also the hurt from the damage to his psyche. He even walked Claudia down the aisle and handed her over to Brody, even though it was God-awful painful. But that was during those first few months of 'learning' that he came to realize just how lucky he was to have been given a second chance. After awhile, he became comfortable with his artificial limb and walking became something he could do without actually thinking. Which was good, because he had so many other things to think about.

One of which was his senior year at St. Joseph's. It was a year made difficult for two reasons. First, it was bad enough that he had to deal with Mrs. Taylor, his widowed house keeper who stayed on, out of the goodness of her heart, after his parents died. Sadly, he knew it was because he and Claudia were the closest thing she ever had to children. And she didn't want to be alone.

And then his Great-Aunt Doriah came to live with him. Yes, two annoying women, who really did care for him, even though they threatened his sanity. But William figured if he could live through those two and their incessant bickering over what was 'best' for him, he could live through anything.

Second, and so much more sadly, was that William couldn't do the one thing he loved. Run. No, he wasn't St. Joseph's 'golden boy' anymore. He'd sit in the stands and watch his best friend run with the wind and he yearned to be back there on that oval. And he would be...one day. That was something he was very sure of. Because as William sat there in those stands, watching his friends run with such ease, he made a promise to himself. {I will run again. One day.}

William graduated with honors from St. Joseph's and went to Florida State University. He was well liked and even though he was missing his leg, it didn't keep the girls from noticing him. If anything, it made it easier. Yes, he thought it odd that his 'handicap' seemed to have a strange aphrodisiac-like quality.

Women wanted to nurture him and treated him with gentle hands...everywhere. And the girls in his classes always wanted to help the muscular, blond haired young man with the stunning blue green eyes and casual, friendly attitude. And he wasn't about to deny their tender loving care.

Yes, tender loving care. Then, as William sat there looking at the wall of pictures in Adam Bardole's workshop, he recalled a very special person, Janet Winston. She was so kind, so gentle. She was his first. Yes, William often looked back with great fondness toward Mrs. Winston, his Calculus teacher at St. Joseph's. No, he'd never forget her.................

*******

................ William sat in the back of the stuffy classroom and tried, somewhat in vain, to keep his eyes open. It wasn't that he didn't like the class or that he was a dolt at calculus. What healthy, straight young man wouldn't? After all, Mrs. Winston was, without a doubt, an absolutely gorgeous woman. She was about 5'7" and a tad 'soft', but her 'softness' was in all the right spots. And her hair was thick, wavy, and auburn.

To add to her appeal, Janet Winston also had the hint of a Irish accent and every now and again, when she'd get tired, it became decidedly more noticeable. But the icing on the cake was that she'd just gone through a messy divorce which made all the guys in his senior class drool just a bit more than they would normally have done for the hot teacher.

Hell, Jeremy Porter, one of William's best friends and a closet homosexual, even said, "Christ, Willie, if I was straight, I'd fuck her. She's awesome. And damn, that voice of hers." Jeremy shook his head and grinned.

William remembered how he had laughed at Jeremy when said it. Mainly because Jeremy's 'confession' about Mrs. Winston was funny since he'd known about his friend's sexual preference when they were fourteen and it didn't bother him. In fact, he kept telling Jeremy to just 'say it' and 'get it over with'. But, on the other hand, William knew that admitting such a thing would cause Jeremy great problems at St. Joseph's.

Nonetheless, William wasn't about to let something like Jeremy's sexual orientation keep him from being his friend. Why, they'd been friends since...well, since before he could even remember. They were like brothers. And, yes, it did help things when Jeremy told William right off the bat that he just 'wasn't his type'. Yes, Jeremy was a great friend. And when William lost both his parents and his leg in the same night, Jeremy was the first one at the hospital.

But on this particular early Spring day, the Florida sun was at its zenith in the clear blue afternoon sky; Jeremy was busily trying to finish his test so he could hurry up and get ready for the track meet; and, William was trying to stay awake so he could finish the first page of the calculus test. He was so tired and his mind simply wasn't up to trying to figure out the "Calculus 'Chain Rule' and defining the question: What are the integrals of sin(ln(4x+5)) and ln(sinx)"

It wasn't like William to not do his very best. But he had starting using a new pain/anxiety medicine for the "phantom leg" syndrome he'd recently been experiencing. And up until last night, William hadn't been sleeping very well. In fact, for the past couple of weeks, he'd been falling asleep around three AM and it wasn't even restful sleep. Thankfully, yesterday, he did finally get some sleep; but, eleven hours just wasn't enough for him and he would have loved nothing more than to lay his head down on the desk and sleep for another eleven hours.

And it was just so quiet in the room. It was warm, too, and, thank God, the weird and somewhat painful feeling in the part of his leg that was not there, had faded. William could feel his eyes growing heavy. He glanced over at Jeremy and saw that he was still engrossed in taking the test, as were William's other classmates. He looked at the clock, stared down at the test page and sighed. {I've got plenty of time. Five minutes, just five. I'll rest my eyes, five minutes}

Forty-five minutes later, Mrs. Winston put her hand on William's arm. "Mr. Fitzpatrick?" She shook him, "Mr. Fitzpatrick...William!"

William jumped and fell out of the seat. His mechanical pencil tip slammed into his hand when he landed on the floor and he yelped, half from the shock of being awakened and half from the pain that now shot through his right hand. "SHIT! God...oh, fuck, that hurts!" He looked down at the pencil that now lay on the floor and at his hand which was bleeding.

"Oh, goodness, William, I'm so sorry." Mrs. Winston knelt down beside him and leaned over to examine his bleeding hand. "Here, let me see that."

He was still sort of groggy; and, truth be told, William was not a pleasant 'just woke up' kind of guy. He shook his head when he realized that the beautiful woman who was right next to him was Mrs. Winston. That's when he realized what he'd said. "God, Mrs. Winston, I'm sorry, excuse me." All he needed was more demerits. Aunt Doriah would kill him if he had to come to school on yet another Saturday since he'd already had to serve 3 Saturday detentions in the past 5 weeks.

"Don't be silly, William. Good Lord, we need to clean that." She smiled down at him, "I've got a first aid kit in my office. I'll go get it. You stay here. And try not to bleed everywhere." She laughed as she stood up and walked across the room.

William watched her ass move back and forth and felt the same warm sensation that grabbed hold of him everyday whenever she turned to work out a problem on the whiteboard. {Damn, damn. She's so hot.} He got up, and, out of habit, looked down at his prosthetic leg to make sure it was in place before he stepped forward. A lesson he'd learned right after his first fall. He walked across the room to her office and stood in the doorway watching her.

She was something else, that was for damn sure; and, William was practically salivating as he stood there. He glanced at her desk. {Neat and orderly, just like her} He saw her struggle to reach for a white box on a tall shelf. Every now and again, he heard her give a little grunt as she tried to reach the box, and it sent chills down his spine. Then, being the chivalrous lad that he was, William said, "I'll get that for you." He reached up and over her to pulled the kit down.

A few moments later, as she worked to clean his wound, Mrs. Winston started talking, "William, I'm sorry I didn't wake you earlier. You were just sleeping so soundly. She glanced at the clock. It was three fifty. School had been dismissed twenty minutes ago. "Do you think your parents...I mean, your aunt...," an apologetic and somewhat embarrassed look crossed her soft face. "Do you think she'll get mad at you if you're late getting home? Are you going to need a ride home or something?"

He replied with a grin and then shook his head, "Nah, I can drive, you know. It's an automatic. Oh, and it's not a big deal. She's sort of like my parent now anyway. So, don't worry about it. Everybody does it. It doesn't bother me anymore." William felt her cool hand on his and he stared down into her eyes. {Holy shit, those are the most beautiful green eyes. God, please give me strength so I don't make a fool of myself with a fat dick.} William nodded his head, "Thanks for...uh....getting me the bandage."

"No problem." She lifted his hand to her lips, kissed the bandage and innocently added, "A kiss to make it all better." Then she smiled up at the tall, handsome young man before her and saw the look of delighted shock on his face. "Oh, I hope that was alright, I...I..."

William searched for the right words to respond, "It's...uh...it's...I mean..." {Oh, sweet Jesus.} And then for a reason that eluded him, he leaned down, kissed her softly on the cheek and added, "Thank you." William suddenly wanted to get out of her office, well, his brain told him to go, but his loins...they told him to stay. And, he chose to listen to them.

Mrs. Winston didn't say a word as she put her hand on his face and responded with a kiss on his lips. William felt the pressure of her mouth open his and then her tongue touched his and a warm sensation flooded his entire body.

Oh, William had kissed lots of girls, he'd even been involved in some seriously heavy petting with a few. However, this was so very different. She was older than him. She was married, well, divorced. And she was his teacher. {This isn't right, William.}

But at that particular moment, he decided to think with his cock and not his brain. He felt her arms snake themselves around his neck and draw him even closer. Her lips were so soft. {Oh, my God.} He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close enough that her waist was resting on his now bulging shaft. {Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.}

When they finished the kiss and had pulled away from one another, William stood there with his swollen cock pressing into his dark navy blue slacks. There was no way she wouldn't be able to notice. Should he have embarrassed? Maybe. But he just stood there and stared at her.

"William," she looked down at the floor and then up into his eyes, "I shouldn't have done that. Oh, my God. I'm so sorry. It's just I haven't...it's been so long...oh, God." Pure dread flowed through her and Janet Winston was terrified.

He quietly said, "It's okay. I should be the sorry one." William went to the door and put his hand on the knob to open it; but, he thought again and, instead, locked the door. And when he heard the 'click' of the lock in its chamber, he knew he was walking a very dangerous line. He turned, "You don't need to be sorry. I won't tell." Then he almost casually walked over to the woman he'd been fantasizing about all year and put his hands on her shoulders, "I won't tell anything to anyone, I promise."

A look of relief washed over her face. She knew he was telling the truth. She could see it in his eyes. Janet Winston felt William's hands moving softly over her shoulders. She wanted to cry. He was such a good kid, so kind, so smart. And she had a compassion for him that was unlike anything she ever had for anyone...not even her own husband. And it had been so long since she'd felt someone's hands on her. She continued to stare up at him as she put her hands on his tie.

For a few moments, everything was a blur for William. It was like he wasn't himself. But then he looked down at her nimble fingers undoing his tie. And, as she slid the dark blue silk strip of over priced material down and around his neck then down his chest, William felt a surge of energy. He eagerly placed his hands on her waist and slid them up her shirt, watching her expression.

William saw her eyes close as his hand floated over her breasts. Her shirt was so thin and so smooth, that he could actually feel the lace beneath his fingers. He unbuttoned her soft pink shirt and looked down at the creamy white flesh of her plump breasts. William ran his fingers along the edge of her lacy white bra and smiled when he noticed she wore a front clasping brassiere. {Oh, yes. This is too good.}

He placed his hands on the clasp, then looked into his beautiful teacher's eyes; and, in turn, she gave him a very subtle nod. With that, William undid the bra and watched in awe as her breasts were wholly revealed to him. {Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Oh, my God! Those are so fucking beautiful!} He placed his hands on them and nearly fell forward when he did. They were so very soft. Without even thinking he leaned down and started to kiss the right one as his hand tenderly massaged the left.

William heard Mrs. Winston moan very softly and then sigh as he kissed her breast and gently sucked on her nipple. He could barely stand it. He knew he there was no way he was about to leave that office, not now. But still, the little voice in his head, (which incidentally, sounded an awful lot like his cousin, who was a priest...but a 'cool' one) was telling him he should stop, walk away, and never mention this again.

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