Morgan's Genie Ch. 03

bybashfullyshameless©

"No," Morgan said, taking advantage of the tight fit to get very close to him. "No powers tonight, except to hide yourself. That happens naturally anyway, right? Yeah. So no powers. Save that. We'll just have to rough it here."

His arms were soon around her. She laid her head on his chest, very much liking the way he felt. "If I fall asleep and you're awake, and you think you can go help people, would you go do that for me? Just use your judgment?"

"I believe I can," Thomas answered. He stroked her hair, happy to have her settle in against his body. "If you're sure you trust my judgment. I...I suppose, aside from you, that I am a bit less sensitive to the needs of those around me than I should be."

"You've been through hell," Morgan countered gently. "It wears on a person. Makes you callous sometimes. Doesn't make you bad."

"No, I suppose not. Your hospitals are amazing unto themselves. There is so much more done here than I could do with magic. We did good things today, but you should not feel it necessary out of guilt. It is generous of you to direct my power toward helping others, but it is not wrong of you to enjoy it for yourself."

"Well, there's being selfish, and then there's being responsible."

"Responsibility should not become generosity to a fault."

"Hm," Morgan grinned with a soft giggle. "Reminds me of a story my people have about a boy named Peter who got bitten by a spider. 's an honored parable about responsibility. I'll have to show it to you sometime."

Thomas cocked his head curiously at that, but then shrugged. "As it stands, I feel rather good about what we have done. It is...nice to allay the suffering of others. I will not mind seeing to it further when I am ready. You will likely be asleep before that happens, though. Do you want me to wake you?"

"I trust you," she said finally. "I don't want to micromanage you. That wouldn't be any fun. But I think you know what I want. Sounds like you probably want the same things." Morgan finally felt a yawn come on, and let it out as she snuggled up to her genie. "I'm gonna have to start teaching you about the modern world. Hopefully we'll find some time to do a little of that tomorrow."

"I would be very grateful."

"Not a problem."

They were silent for a moment. Then her head shifted. She felt something about him stir. "What's funny?" she asked.

"...you will command me to make love to you again at some point, won't you?"

Morgan laughed, and he laughed with her. "Typical guy," she chuckled. "Yes. God, yes. You're amazing. I'm not gonna give that up for anything."

* * *

Lance Corporal Chuy Hernandez woke up in the night with his hands hurting. It had happened to him the night before as well. The doctors weren't sure how much he could handle by way of pain meds because of something to do with a couple mild allergies or mixing meds or some bullshit, so the stuff they gave him couldn't get him through the night. He had no idea how long he had slept -- the stupid clock was broken -- but it was still dark out.

He thought about calling for someone. He'd have buzzed for a nurse or an orderly if it didn't hurt like hell just to move his arms. They lay wrapped in bandages at his sides, feeling like they were still on fire. That, and they itched like mad. But the last thing in the world he could do was scratch them.

Chuy fumed for a moment, and thought about calling out, but he glanced over to the bed across the room. Warren was sound asleep. That couldn't have been easy to accomplish, what with how jacked up that poor fucker was. They were afraid to give him too much in the way of pain meds, too. Head trauma, they said. Don't want to screw with the natural process.

Chuy considered that their doctor might just be an asshole. The surgeon from India or wherever was pretty cool, but Major Simmons seemed like one of those guys who was just plain out of his depth.

It was that very problem, though, and the sight of Warren finally sleeping, that led Chuy to keep his mouth shut. Poor guy had to be in a lot of pain. He was pretty jacked up. Chuy was in pain, but ultimately, it was just his arms.

Chuy decided he could take it. He was a Marine, after all. He closed his eyes, figuring that maybe they would get tired of staring at the backs of his eyelids and tell his brain to take a fucking break.

"What happened to your hands?" a voice asked softly.

Chuy looked up to see a GI standing there in the dark at the foot of his bed. He wasn't wearing a hospital shirt, and that black t-shirt was out of uniform, to say nothing of his hair. But that could mean he was one of those Special Forces guys. They got to do that shit, he heard. He'd met Green Berets with biker beards.

"Burned up," Chuy said. "Make sure you keep quiet. Warren's asleep. Ain't easy for him."

"What happened to him?"

"IED. Fuckin' thing exploded right behind a door just as he opened it. Door held, but...he still got pretty jacked up." Chuy shook his head and asked, not for the first time, "What stupid fucker puts a bomb right behind a steel door?"

"I don't know," the visitor shrugged. "You're in pain."

"Yeah, man," Chuy said. Maybe the guy was an officer, maybe not, but if he was gonna go around out of uniform, Chuy figured he'd just have to suck up not being addressed by rank. "You maybe go get someone who can give me somethin'? Kinda hard to sleep."

"I can help," the man said, coming closer. "But you'll have to forget I was here."

Chuy snorted. "Yeah, sure, man. Whatever. Figure you gotta be Special Forces or somethin' with all that hair, right?"

"Or perhaps you're dreaming," the visitor suggested.

That certainly seemed more likely. The man reached out for Chuy's hands. "Careful," he warned. "Docs say things are real sensitive under there. Nothin's really done yet. Don't wanna lose more skin than I already have."

The visitor cocked his head. "How did this happen to you?" he asked.

"IED, just like Warren. Only I wasn't in the way when it blew. Started a fire, one of my guys was stuck by debris. Had to get him free before he burned up." Chuy looked down at his bandaged arms. "He's gonna be better off than me, they say."

"What else do they say?"

"Holdin' out a little hope for some recovery, but not a lot," Chuy said. It was a hard thing to say, but he had been trained to face the hard things. "Sooner or later I'll be able to move 'em. But the wife's prob'ly gonna be pretty creeped out, you know, man? Getting hugs from a crispy critter? I mean my hands are bad, but they ain't too bad 'cause I had good gloves on. But from the wrists up..."

The visitor nodded. He reached out to touch Chuy's right wrist. The pain went away almost immediately. "Huh. Now I know I'm dreamin'."

"What is your wife's name?" He reached out to the left wrist, which soon also wasn't nearly as hot or itchy.

"Sandra."

"Is she pretty?"

"Yeah, man," Chuy snorted. "I look like I gotta settle for less?"

"No," the visitor smiled softly. "No, you don't." He glanced at Chuy thoughtfully. "But I think perhaps you and your wife might have some reason to hold out a little hope."

"Yeah? Why's that?" He yawned. Finally he was feeling a bit sleepy again. Maybe it was because he was dreaming.

"Because I think your burns might not be as bad as was feared," the visitor said. He reached out, clasped Chuy's shoulder for a moment, and then turned toward Warren.

If the guy had a dream conversation with Warren, too, Chuy missed it. He fell back to sleep.

* * *

The feeling of Thomas joining her in the bed stirred Morgan from her sleep. She lay on her left side once more, arm underneath her pillow. He slipped in behind her, his strong right arm slipping over her hip. She smiled dreamily and snuggled into him.

It had been many months since a man had crawled into bed with her, yet Morgan thought warmly that it was wonderful that she could know who it was sharing her space so immediately. No creepy thoughts about Mark. No wondering if she was going to regret sleeping where she slept in the morning.

It was Thomas, and he was awesome. Better than awesome. Magic.

"Were you out wandering?" she murmured.

"I was," he said back softly. He kissed her hair. That right arm around her waist rose, and she soon felt his hand tracing affectionately along her leg. The left came around under her, effortlessly and comforting, defying all the usual mundane complications of too many limbs in one bed. Definitely magic.

"Anything interesting out there?"

"Yes," came the quiet answer. "I went out to do your bidding, and there is less pain here tonight than before."

"Thank you," Morgan smiled. She fell silent a bit, liking the feeling of his hand and the way his body melded against hers. Thomas was warm, affectionate, sexy. The fingers tracing along her hip gave her a brief, welcome shiver to contrast with that warmth.

"My power is mostly spent again," he explained, slowly, softly, his lips tracing against the bare skin of her neck and her shoulders. She let out a breath that was noticeably heavier than the last. "But the hospital is quiet. Patients sleep. I believe I have fulfilled your wish as best as I can."

"Hhhh," Morgan breathed. "Good."

"It takes very little energy to ensure we are not discovered," noted the lips that brushed against her ear.

"Mmmhh?"

"Little energy to ensure that we are at least comfortable...and none at all to simply be a man."

Morgan's right arm slipped up and around to allow her fingers to run through his hair. She gripped some of it softly as he nibbled on her earlobe, his hand now slipping around from the outsides of her hip to tenderly probe her belly and below. She breathed out again heavily.

How she could be this relaxed and this aroused all at once was beyond her, but the last thing she wanted to do was question it. Every breath became heavier even as her body became weaker for him. Loving his touch, she shifted her legs just enough to open more space for him.

"God, yes," she whispered as his fingers brushed through her pubes and across her clit. His left hand was already up her shirt -- no fumbling under the fabric of her hospital gown, no awkwardness from lying on that arm. She simply felt that hand come between her breasts, brushing over her heart as it beat harder. "Yes."

She knew she was being seduced, and thrilled to it. He was very good at that. He was very good at fulfilling the needs he awoke in her, too. Those fingers that caressed and gently probed her increasingly wet pussy played at exploring, but she knew all too well that he already knew his way around that. The notion of it turned her on even more.

The thought that got her heart pounding more, that had her breath heavier still and that ran through her body like electricity, was that this mix of intimate friend, eager servant and reverent seducer was entirely too good to deny.

Morgan whimpered and writhed against him but let him have his fun. She hadn't asked for this, but then, she did allow him his own discretion. If he felt it was in his mistresses best interests to play with her like his personal toy, well, he had certainly earned the reward.

She had no idea when he pulled the hospital gown free. It must have been about the same time that his shirt vanished. She felt it, though, when despite lying on his hip and against her from behind, Thomas slid off his BDU pants with one simple stroke of his hand. And she absolutely felt the tool that he had freed with that magic trick.

Morgan was content -- eager, really -- to cede complete control to him. She was on fire with need well before she had felt his dick nestled between her cheeks. His fingers had her on the edge of climax already. Yet as he slipped into her from behind, still lying side by side against one another, that climax was agonizingly, wondrously delayed. One overwhelming pleasure had suddenly been shunted aside by another.

He slipped in and out of her. Morgan breathed along with the rhythm of his slow, loving thrusts. Her free hand clutched at the hand that softly but needfully fondled her breasts. His other hand, she realized as her senses accepted and adjusted to the constant pleasure of his penetrating cock, returned to its work on her pussy.

She surrendered in utter bliss. He moved in and out of her and back in again, steadily filling her and breathing with his own need. Morgan had never felt so wanted, or so accepted, or so beautiful. As much as she wanted to kiss him and reciprocate, there was simply no way she would turn away from this state before they were both fulfilled.

It went on and on.

"Morgan," he whispered into her ear lovingly.

"Say my name," she whimpered back. "Say it again."

"Morgan," he repeated. "I am yours."

Her body began to spasm, starting at her center but quickly overtaking her. Morgan gasped and moaned, crying out in joy as her pussy gave in to him all over again. Tears streamed from her eyes and she convulsed against him. The small corner of her mind not completely given over to animal pleasure thrilled at the way he held her, warmly and with strength, letting her ride out the waves of orgasm that coursed through her.

"Don't leave me," she sighed out finally. "Don't...I want you inside me."

"As you wish," she felt his lips say against the back of her neck. "It's what I want, too."

It was the luxury she wanted to deny herself before, but knew she could not now. Thomas had seen to her concern for her comrades. He had carried her to her bed, protected both her and the rest while she slept. This last service, though, released all her stresses again, leaving her nothing but cherished and well-loved.

He kept her wet and welcoming to him throughout the night. It had to be magic, she knew, but didn't care. Now and again she had the thought of turning over, of reciprocating the affections that he showered onto her, but Thomas never once let up in his attentions or seemed the least bit dissatisfied. If anything, his whispered words and body language conveyed nothing but gratitude and satisfaction. Thomas stayed with her, held her, and filled her.

Neither of them slept.

Neither of them needed sleep nearly so much as they needed one another.

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