The Blind Date

This story is fictional. I have never dated a blind woman but I did have an acquaintance that was blind. Her husband was also blind. She pointed out something to me that I had never thought of. There is no such thing as porn for a blind person. She lamented that fact to me and so for nearly three months, I read pornographic novels to her over the phone. What she did while she listened I'll never know but she thanked me over and over again.

*

After my wife died, I buried myself in my work. It seemed to limit the time I had to spend feeling sorry for myself that this marvelous woman had been taken away from me. My friends were very concerned for me. They held dinner parties where certain available women just "happen by" but I never answered any of the messages and phone numbers hastily written on napkins and stuffed into my jacket pockets. My sister, Claire, and her husband, Larry, repeatedly begged me to join their church group, company picnics, etc. but I did my best to tactfully refuse.

One day, Claire called me. She had gotten a call from Stella Marshall. The Marshall family was once one of the most prominent in town. Stella still lived in the old mansion on River Road.

"Becky is back in town from California, Claire gushed, and Stella wants us to take her out, just to get her out of the house. She's been back for two weeks and hasn't made contact with anyone."

Once more, I ruefully gave in to my sister's ploy and agreed to meet them at the Marshall house. Becky was by far the smartest of the Marshall girls. She was drop dead gorgeous but stayed aloof from the gaggle of boys who lusted after her with their tongues hanging out all through high school. She went away to college and we lost contact with her.

"Please be tactful and polite," cried Claire as we met walking up the front steps to the mansion. To my surprise, Stella herself opened the door.

"Come in, everyone, Becky is ready to go."

What greeted me next took my breath away. Before me stood a stunningly beautiful woman. Becky had filled out some since I last saw her at graduation. The same long blond hair was still there but the figure was now that of a mature woman of 30.

"David," she cried. I took her hand and then she surprised me with a big hug. Her large breasts crushed into my chest as she threw her arms around me. Her perfume was intoxicating. I returned the obligatory hug and stepped back for the shock of my life. Becky was blind! Her beautiful blue eyes stared straight past me.

"It's so good to hear your voice again," she said. "I know. I've changed some since we last saw each other."

She shook hands with Claire and Larry and we all walked out to the car. I took Becky's arm but she said,

"I can manage."

She knew exactly how many steps to the curb. Once the car door was open, she got inside without any help. At dinner, she did let me guide her through the restaurant and read the menu to her. When the meal arrived, she asked me to describe the arrangement of the food on the plate as if the plate were a clock. After that, we all forgot she was sightless. She was bright, witty, a brilliant conversationalist and, laughing at Larry's dumb dirty jokes, she would grab my arm and bury her face on my shoulder. Something was stirring inside me that I thought was long since dead.

Larry said,

"Let's go dancing!"

I tried to beg off but Becky said,

"Come on, it won't kill you."

We went to a western bar where they were giving free lessons in line dancing. Becky and I did fairly well, all things considered. We once got our feet tangled and fell to the floor, laughing like fools. During the slow dances, however, we clung to each other in a wordless admission that our common loneliness was worse than either of us had the courage to admit. I felt her body pressing into mine as she wrapped both arms around my neck. During a break we went outside into the parking lot to get away from the noise and the smoke. She turned to me and our kiss was that of two lost souls who had suddenly found solace in shared passion. There was a momentary silence and then she said,

"Five years ago I was raped. They beat me so badly that I lost my sight. The doctors say that someday I may be able to see again but right now I am beginning to think I never will. I liked my job working as a teacher of blind children but when mom called and said she was getting on and her health was failing, I decided to come back home. I'm not sure what I will do yet, but meeting you again has been a wonderful homecoming."

The thought of someone beating up on this beautiful creature just made my blood boil. I was overcome with an urge to find the bastards and kill them with my bare hands. On the way home we cuddled like teenagers in the back seat of the car.

I called her Saturday morning and invited her to a picnic.

"Wear jeans, boots and a light jacket," I told her on the phone.

When I led her to the curb she sensed that something was different and said,

"Where is your car? Are we walking?"

"No, I said, I brought my motorcycle." She hesitated. It was immediately obvious to me that she was more than a little apprehensive.

"I take it that you have never ridden on one."

"No, I haven't. I'm not sure I can do it."

"Really, it's easier than riding a bike. Let me get your helmet on."

I buckled the helmet on her head.

"Now, just put your left foot here, I said as I guided her boot to the peg, and swing your right over as though you were getting on a horse."

She managed it very well. I started up the old BMW R69, climbed on and after she wrapped her arms around my waist, we took off. She loved it. She instinctively leaned into the curves and babbled on about all the smells emanating from freshly cut grass, plowed fields and stands of pine trees. We rode for about 40 minutes and entered the state park. At the lake we feasted on cold chicken, French bread, wine and cheese. She waded in the shallows picking up clams with her toes. I told myself that this woman with pant legs rolled up, standing in the water was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. Later we lay under a huge tree. We talked about our lives, the things we have missed and our mutual loneliness. We started kissing again but were interrupted by the arrival of several cars full of noisy teenagers.

I drove her home. At night the air was damp with early dew. The moon seemed to follow us as we sped back towards town. There were more things to smell in the night air and she continued to marvel at the thrill of whipping through the curves and the deep hum of the engine. At her front door, I kissed her once more and promised to take her to a symphony concert on Tuesday.

What followed was a long series of dates which included every auditory experience I could think of. This marvelous woman taught me many lessons about sensory navigation through barriers the sighted never encounter. We were becoming known around town as a couple and invitations began to include both names.

One night we were sitting in my living room, listening to a great jazz album on the stereo. Up until this point, we had just been kissing like teenagers although I could feel that something was developing between us that was more than just companionship. I hesitated to take things further for fear of taking advantage of her and yet I felt that she wanted more than we had experienced so far. We never actually talked about sex. We sort of walked around it like an elephant in the room that the two of us chose to ignore. We were half reclining on the couch when suddenly she began to slide off. She yelped and I reached for her with my hand grasping her breast.

We laughed a bit and then she put her hand on top of mine and said,

"That feels good, David. Please do that some more."

I slid my hand under her sweater and palmed her breast over her bra. Our lips crushed together and our tongues wrestled for dominance. She suddenly straightened up and removed her sweater and bra. She leaned forward and pressed her magnificent tits into my eager hands.

"I've wanted you to do this for so long," she whispered. I craned my neck a bit and fastened my lips on her nipple. This went on for some time and then she said,

"You've been so good to me, David. I want to do something nice for you."

She slid to the floor between my legs. She deftly unbuckled my jeans and pulled them down, with a little help from me. She fished out my cock.

"I didn't think I would ever want to do this with anyone after my attack but now I feel so close to you, like we have been lovers for ages and didn't even know it....."

She sucked my cock into her mouth. I closed my eyes and blessed my good fortune. The breeze drifted through the open window. For some reason I started to hear the rustling of the leaves outside as Becky plunged her head back and forth, sucking my cock. She attacked my rod with loud slathering noises. My euphoria was total. I felt her tongue working on my balls, taking first one then the other in her mouth. Then she slid back up the length of my cock and once more enveloped it in her hot mouth. I couldn't last much longer and told her so. She ignored me and continued to take my cock deep into her mouth. I leaned forward, grasping the sides of her head. Becky took me into her throat, just briefly. She pulled out slightly and began to hum. I came more strongly than I could ever remember with a groan, pumping my semen into her mouth. She huffed and mewled while she continued sucking until I grew too sensitive to take any more.

"My God, Becky, I've never had it that good, I said, gasping for breath. I want to return the favor."

"Not now. I really liked sucking you off but I 'm not ready just yet for anything else. I'm glad we did this. Now, please, take me home."

I tried to understand her reluctance. No man can possibly know how a woman feels when she is sexually assaulted as Becky was. It is more than just pain, humiliation or a violation of her intimacy. It is a stain on her very soul which cannot easily be washed away. Some women can go on with their lives and put the horror behind them but others carry the trauma with them forever and nothing in their existence is ever the same. Becky had obviously made significant progress in adjusting to her blindness but beyond that, there was something as yet unresolved, unanswered, like an open wound that no one else could see. It was as though her mind had closed off the memory and locked the door. I wondered if she would ever let it all out, release the rage and hurt once and for all. I had hoped that I was somehow helping her through that but obviously, my influence was still quite limited.

A couple of days later, I came back from a business trip and stopped by the house to see her.

"Please come inside. Mom's in Milwaukee for the weekend, "she said as I arrived at the mansion. No lights were on and I stumbled through the front hall. Becky just said,

"Follow me," and dashed up the stairs. I didn't even bother to look for a light switch. Her room was pitch black as the shades and curtains were drawn. I crashed into a chair.

"I'm sorry; we took all the lamps out of my room since I don't need them."

Through the one window that was only partially blocked by a sheer curtain, I could begin to see the street light out front as my eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"Wait a second, "she said.

I thought she was looking for a light for me. Suddenly she was against me, completely naked.

"I'm sorry I turned you down last week. I've been thinking a lot about this and I want you to be the first since ......"

Her voice trailed off as she crushed her mouth on mine. In the pitch darkness we tore off my clothes and she led me to her bed. Her breasts were once again in my hands, large, round and topped with tiny nipples. I sucked and licked them until she was moaning. I then slid down her body to her crotch. The hair was so soft and fragrant. I slipped my tongue inside her slit and she began moaning again. I attacked her clit with a frenzy. It had been so long since I had gone down on a woman that I let loose all my pent up desires and forced my tongue every which way I could. I slid two fingers inside her and curled them up to massage the roof of her cunt. Her cries of passion grew louder and louder. I wanted her to have the best orgasm I could deliver but she interrupted me by saying,

"Put it in me now, please, now."

I raised up and drove my cock into her pussy. She wrapped her arms around my neck; her legs gripped my sides as she rose up to meet my jabs. Again and again I slammed into her. Her whole body tensed up and she began a sort of high pitched keening sound, so loud it almost hurt my ears. I kept it up, hoping to last as long as she wanted. We were both grunting and puffing with our efforts. Even though the room was cool, we were sweating. She raised her knees even higher as I banged her cunt with all my strength. She cried out and her head whipped from side to side. Then I felt that my cum was rising.

One more thrust and I let go a torrent of cum into her pussy. Her entire body suddenly stiffened and she let out one final cry that must have come from the very depths of her soul; a cry born of bottled up rage, releasing all her pain and humiliation and then, finally, triumphantly overcoming at last the trauma and terror that had dogged her for five years. Tears poured from her eyes and soaked our faces, pressed together as we were, sharing our bliss. She shook and trembled as she sobbed my name over and over again.

"Oh my god, she cried, finally catching her breath, I am so glad we did this. I think I'm seeing stars, at least.... one big one!"

In the dim light I could barely see the outline of her face. It was turned towards the window, towards the street light.