tagFirst TimeI Once Was Blind...

I Once Was Blind...

byfrogintexas©

(C) Copyright 2005, revised 2006, 2009 by frog, all rights reserved, except those described below. Permission is granted to download, archive, and repost provided that the contents are not altered, including the disclaimers, copyrights and limitations on use and provided that no fee is charged for access. This story is erotic fiction intended for adult entertainment. The author does not necessarily condone or endorse the behavior described in this story. All persons and events in this story are completely fictitious and ANY similarity to persons living or dead or to actual events is purely coincidental.



Doris indeed was beautiful, but had no comprehension of her own good looks. Given the ways in which most people related to her, Doris imagined that she was almost invisible. That concept was easy for her to grasp, because Doris was blind.

Prologue

Doris hated her name. Why couldn't she have been named something exotic or fashionable, like Madison or Alexis or Riley? Those were names of the visible ones, the exciting ones, the popular ones. Doris was a name for the invisible, the girl that no one noticed, the girl who people passed without speaking, the poor unfortunate with the white cane.

Doris Elaine Smith had been blind since birth. She had never seen a sunset, a cloud, another person, or herself. Doris was a very young child when she discovered that others possessed this thing called sight. In the years following, she mostly was angry...angry at whatever God had made her this way; angry at the people who talked louder to her because she was blind even though nothing was wrong with her hearing; angry at her parents for simultaneously doing too little and too much for her; and angry because as soon as the do-gooders had helped her across a street or to a classroom, they left her very much alone.

As Doris grew older, her anger evolved into fierce independence. Her feelings of isolation continued to grow as well. She learned how to live as a blind person and take care of herself fully. She tried using a guide dog for a while, but the animal brought an extra burden of responsibility, so she instead worked hard to develop her ability to get along with just her other senses and her trusty cane. As the years progressed, she excelled in school all own her own, and she held more mental maps of her surroundings in her head than most people had thoughts.

By middle school, she had become very self-assured largely because more and more elements in her life were stable, unchanging. Then suddenly her world turned upside down.

Puberty!

Her body, once one of her constants, was changing almost daily. Hormones began to course through her body along with the wild thoughts that accompanied them. Breasts and shapely hips appeared along with new, very different hair here and there. Worse were those amazing menstrual periods. All of these very normal parts of maturation Doris could feel, but could not see.

High school brought good and bad. The bad part of high school for Doris was the loneliness. The good part was that by the time she was seventeen, she had become accustomed to her new body. It was then that the most amazing part of all emerged—her sexuality, that mysterious, perplexing, disturbing, wonderful phenomenon—along with so many unanswered questions.

In her search for answers, she read all the books that she could find, but the Braille books had only words. There were no pictures. Her imagination brimmed with unconfirmed ideas about her feelings, boys, her own body, relationships, and about that unnamed powerful force that caused her to manipulate herself to shattering orgasms almost every night.

The questions piled up within Doris, yet she had no source of answers. Her parents were no help at all. They were good, conservative, born-again Baptists who believed that sex was for procreation only. Her mother couldn't even bring herself to discuss Doris' menstrual cycle. Doris' mom gave up in the middle of a vague discussion of original sin and simply provided Doris an explanatory book, one written for young children. If something as natural as her cycle was an uncomfortable subject for her mother, then conversation about sex was an unthinkable.

Doris had no real friends to provide insights either. There were people who helped her get from place to place, but they weren't friends to whom she could bare her very soul. Her teachers offered no help either. They thought that since she was so quietly self-sufficient, then she must be on top of all aspects of her life. As a result, the normal school yard learning about sex from peers or teachers was lost with Doris.

Nonetheless, deep inside her were raging fires that seemed to be burning out of control. Her nightly masturbatory acts only made matters worse.

In other words, Doris was about as horny as a teenaged girl could get.

After graduating from high school, Doris convinced her parents to allow her to enroll in the local junior college. More importantly, she talked them into renting an apartment for her across the street from the college. That was the only way, she had argued, for her to put in the extra time she needed to keep up in classes and to become accustomed to her new environment. The real reason, of course, was that she was desperate to be on her own and away from her conservative parents. Her mother and father finally relented and that started a bold new chapter in her eighteen-year-old life.

The apartment complex had a swimming pool at its center and that is where our little story really begins. Doris fell in love with the exquisite feelings of warm sun or cool water on her body, sensations that she had just come to know. The pool quickly became her favorite place to read and study, or to simply be in touch with her feelings. She could hardy wait each afternoon to don her brand new swim suit and head for the pool...and her new life.

Chapter 1

"I saw her pubes, dude...her pubes! I saw the girl's pubes close up."

"I don't believe that, Jerome...no way, man...you're lying."

"It's true. Dude, she's blind...the girl can't see a fucking thing. She was out by the swimming pool getting some sun...and wearing this like blue swimsuit...she was just laying there. So, I like walked right up to her and said, "Hi." She smiled and said "hi" back, real quiet like. I just leaned over and like stared right at her pussy area, man...right at it. She never knew! And, poking out from around the edges of her swim suit were pussy hairs...I swear! I saw 'em right there...and, all the time, she just laid there and smiled."

"No, shit. That's amazing. Damn, I wish I had been there with you!"

Like Doris, Jerome was a junior college student, but similarities stopped there. Jerome worked part-time as a maintenance man for the apartment complex when he wasn't trying to catch air or grind a stair rail on his skateboard. Pool cleanup was his favorite part of the otherwise dead-end job because of the young women who sun bathed daily by the pool. He imagined that those women all admired his lean, sinewy physique while he worked shirtless at poolside, although few, if any, of the resident bathing beauties actually did. The affluent girls in this apartment complex had their sights set a lot higher than the maintenance man, or maintenance boy, as it were. Jerome had just completed high school...and that by the skin of his teeth.

Jerome's friend, on the other hand, had a body that drew undivided attention for women. His name was Mike Hammerle, but most people, even his teachers, knew him as "Hammer." While not the sharpest knife in the drawer intellectually, Hammer's muscular build and rugged good looks had pretty much gotten him through life, so far. Mike's downfall with most women came, however, when he opened his mouth. Most women quickly saw past his Adonis looks and found underneath a painfully shy, very simple person. Hammer was much more comfortable playing video games with Jerome than trying to talk to girls or anyone for that matter.

"Think about it, man," said Jerome. "A guy could hang with this chick and look anywhere he wanted, any time...she'd never know. I bet you could sit in her living room and be real quiet and she would even know you were there!"

"Get the fuck out of here," said Hammer. "Blind people have like extraterrestrial perception or something like that. They can hear like your heart beating and shit."

A puzzled look came over Jerome's face, one with which Hammer was very familiar.

"Extra what perception? Well, what ever...the deal is she also is a good looking babe...sort of...I mean, her face is sort of plain, but she has like this long reddish-brown hair; these kind of small, but perfectly round tits; skinny waist; very nice ass...long skinny legs that like go forever. She is hot looking...in a sort of plain kind of way. I mean she doesn't wear lots of makeup...in fact, none at all...and she doesn't wear like tight sexy outfits and stuff...she is kind of...wholesome looking...that's it...wholesome!"

Now it was Hammer who looked perplexed.

"You know...like a girl that might live next door or something," Jerome explained.

"Must be awful being blind," mused Hammer. "Not being able to see nothing...man!"

"Dude, you are missing the point here. A guy could do things with this chick that are fucking impossible with the normal cold-as-ice babes around here. Check this out: One, she doesn't know what you look like. You could be the world's ugliest dude and it wouldn't matter to her. Two, you could like shine a light up her dress...and check out her panties. She would never know. How could she? Just think about it!"

"How does she watch television and stuff...being blind and all?" Mike Hammerle's brow was furrowed in deep concern. Then a more major thought pushed its way into his mind. "Oh, man...what about video games? Shit...she can't play video games. I can't even think about that!"

With that, Jerome simply rolled his eyes. Sometimes Hammer had a hard time following a conversation, no matter how convincing the argument.

*****

Doris sat poolside blissfully enjoying the warm sun combined with a gentle breeze that flowed across her lotion-covered skin. The sensation was exquisite. Two other girls sunned nearby and, as usual, paid no attention to Doris, except perhaps a bit of pity. Doris, however, listened to their conversation with great interest, especially as one girl regaled the other about her most recent, now failed relationship with a guy.

Doris had almost lost interest when one of the girls in a stage whisper said, "Hey, check it out...it's Hammer and, gag me, Jero-o-ome."

Doris' curiosity grew until the whispering finally continued.

"Who did you say?"

"That's Mike Hammerle coming through the gate...oh, god, is he beautiful or what...and that bulge in his jeans..."

The last remark was followed by soft giggles.

"Have you every seen such a fine ass? And those shoulders? Oh, my! Makes my little pulse rate go up just looking at him."

"And the bulge?"

"Oooo, yes...that makes something else pulse."

"He is pretty, that's for sure. But, why is he hanging out with that gross geek Jerome?"

"Oh, Jerome, isn't so bad...if you like skateboard types."

Both girls laughed aloud.

"There something about 'bad boy' types like Jerome that I like...in a strange sort of way."

"You naughty girl, you. What would your mother say if she knew you were having such nasty thoughts? Mine would send me straight to the confessional!"

"My mother? Ha! My mother has been fucking our gardener for years, so she would be, let's just say, supportive of nasty thoughts...and deeds!"

"Oh my god, for real? I mean, for real, she's fucking the gardener?"

"Caught them once doing the dirty in our tool shed myself."

"Oh my god!"

"Truth! Alejandro, the gardener, was eating my mom's little twat right there in front of God and everybody. I watched them through a little crack in the wall. It was awesome."

"Holy shit!"

"Old Alejandro wasn't handsome, but I guess he has a talented tongue. Mom clearly enjoyed it. Ooops, head's up...here they come...hmm, I wonder what that bad boy Jerome can do with his tongue?

"Euuuu!" squealed one of the girls. "Gross."

"I'm much more interested in Hammer's bulge!"

"Mmmmm...no doubt."

Doris had heard every word and was dumbfounded by the conversation both in frankness and content. One of the girls was talking about her mother having sex, for goodness sake. Doris couldn't imagine her own mother having sex of any kind much less with a Mexican gardener in a tool shed.

The concept of "eating twat" was mystifying as well. To what act the girl had referred was pretty easy to figure out, but the idea of the act was totally foreign to Doris. That someone might purposely do such a thing was a fascinating, very new notion for Doris. Fantasies about what that might feel like began to race through Doris' fertile mind.

Doris was about to lose herself totally in that fantasy when she was jolted back to reality by a deep voiced, "Hi, again," obviously directed at her.

Doris jerked to attention.

"Hello," she choked.

"I'm Jerry and this is my friend, Ham...ah...Michael. I met you out here the other day."

Jerry? Michael? Hammer thought. Where in the world did Jerome come up with that shit?

Jerome continued, "But, I didn't get your name? I mean...mind if we join you? I didn't mean to scare you or nothing."

Doris gathered all her courage, straightened her back, and prepare for social discourse.

"No, I mean, yes. I mean, yes, you can join me; no, you didn't scare me at all. It's nice to meet you...both. I'm Doris."

The words had not come easily, but at least she had gotten them out.

The scraping sound of a chaise lounge being dragged across the cement followed. Doris felt things being moved close to her. Involuntarily, she clutched her towel to her bosom for security.

"I'm Jerry...ah...guess I already said that...anyway...ah...I just wanted you to know that if you ever need any help around here...well...I'm your 'go to' guy. I work here...and go to school too...this is a part-time job...not a career...but, anyway, I'm here all the time. You need something, you just call out for Jero...ah, Jerry."

Old feelings of defensiveness rose immediately within Doris.

"I appreciate that, Jerry, but I do pretty well on my own. Thanks for your kind offer though."

"No problem," said Jerome.

Doris sensed that Jerome was now very close to her. Defensively, she held out her hand.

"Thanks and I am pleased to make your acquaintance," Doris said.

A hand took hers. It was the strong, sandpaper hand of a person who worked with rough things and rough jobs.

"Likewise," said Jerome.

Doris felt him move her hand into another place in space.

"And this here is Michael," said Jerome.

A giant, very soft hand suddenly enveloped hers. It surely belonged to someone big and strong...yet, gentle.

"Hi," said Hammer almost in a whisper.

Doris smiled broadly.

"He don't talk much," muttered Jerome. "But, you should taste his quesadillas!"

"I'd like that," smiled Doris still holding Mike's warm hand in hers.

"Maybe we could come over sometime and fix 'em for you," said Jerome.

Such quick thinking on Jerome's part didn't always happen, but suddenly he was on a roll, it seemed.

"Yeah," Jerome continued, "We, I mean, Hammer can cook up very tasty stuff."

A bit of a shock ran through Doris. That sounded almost like a request for a date. She had not yet enjoyed such an experience. She struggled to recover.

"Well...ah...sure that would be fun...sometime...I just live right over there...number 14."

"Cool," exclaimed Jerome. "Gotta go to work now...damn it...enjoy the pool...looks like it is gonna cloud over and maybe rain...those dark clouds over there...a well, I guess...you didn't...ah...anyway...they are there and so...you should know...ah...that."

Doris smiled weakly. Jerome's would-be suave conversation had just taken an uncomfortable turn. Hammer turned beet red in sympathy. Doris suddenly realized that she was still holding Mike's hand. She quickly pulled away and then forced another big smile.

"Well, see you around," said Jerome. He immediately regretted his choice of words.

"Ok, see you," said Doris.

Jerome laughed at the irony...a little too loud.

"It was nice to meet you," said Hammer awkwardly.

His voice was rich, deep, and dark. Doris instantly liked it. She promised herself to recall the sound of it later.

"Well, just walk away without speaking, Hammer," shouted one of the girls nearby.

"Hey, girls," shouted Jerome.

"Just walk away without speaking, Jerome," muttered the other girl with an entirely different inflection in her voice.

"Very funny, Heather."

"Our toilet still doesn't work right, Jerome."

"I'll get right on that, Heather...next week."

Suddenly Hammer laughed aloud.

"What?" snarled Jerome.

"You said you would get right on that...the toilet...you would get right on the toilet...ha...get it...pretty funny...huh," explained Mike.

Doris quietly smiled. What a lovely voice he has, she thought.

"That's really stupid, Hammer," groaned Jerome.

*****

Later back in her apartment, Doris gathered the dirty clothes that she carefully sorted each night after wearing them. Whites went in one hamper, darks in another, and delicates in yet another. Each was marked with a Braille tag. She felt around in her spare change dish until she had identified enough quarters to do her wash. After a carefully rehearsed walk from her apartment, she arrived at the laundry room and was greatly relieved that no one was there. She didn't like having to feel inside each washer in the room in order to find an empty one. That process was even worse when another person was watching.

Doris was about to put coins in the white load when she heard that voice again. Certainly it had to be his. This time it seemed to be in a far away place. She concentrated on the sound for a moment and, to her surprise, it seemed to be coming from behind the washers. Quietly, Doris felt her way along the machines until she reach the last one. The voice was coming from the direction of her feet. She crouched down and found the sound source with her fingers. It was a wire-covered square low on the wall. Cool air rushed in through the square.

They are in a room on the other side of the wall, Doris thought. Must be the maintenance room over there, she reasoned.

Doris was about to return to her wash when she heard words that sent a chill through her body.

"I told you that blind girl was pretty, didn't I?" said Jerome.

"She is prettier than I thought she would be," answered Hammer. "She seemed very nice too."

Doris froze in front of the small opening. They were talking about her! And best of all, they said...she was pretty. Goose bumps instantly formed all over Doris' body. No one, not even her parents, had ever called her pretty.

"Nice body, huh," continued Jerome. "Man, what I wouldn't give to see her naked. Dude, I was checking out her sweet pussy mound the whole time we were talking to her."

Doris' goose bumps turned suddenly to droplets of sweat. All the air seemed to leave the room. She grabbed for the side of a washer to keep from falling over.

The velvet voice interrupted. "Funny but with those dark glasses she had on you wouldn't even know Doris was blind...except for that cane, I guess...I liked her smile...must be damn hard to be blind," said Hammer.

From his position at the work bench, Jerome looked at Hammer as if he was from Mars. Then a light broke across Jerome's craggy face.

"I've got it!" shouted Jerome. "I have the perfect plan. Dude, check this out. What did she say her name was?"

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