Call Me Chris

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A young man has a very fortunate accident.
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Call Me Chris

All persons, places, and organizations are fictional or used fictitiously. The female lead character and her general appearance and personality are based on a real person who I would have loved in a slightly different world, but the circumstances in the story and her profession are entirely fictitious. Nothing remotely like it happened it real life, no matter how much I might wish it did.

I'm Jake Masters. The year was 2000. At the start of this story, I was about 25 years old, about 6' 2" and proportionate weight (usually about 180), fairly but not outstandingly handsome, brown hair and blue eyes. I'm a lifelong resident of the Phoenix area. I got my degree in Business Administration at Arizona State. I didn't earn a scholarship, but between what my parents could spare and what I earned with part-time work, I wasn't burdened with too much student debt. After college I got an entry level office job at the ACME Widget Company. My plan was to work my way up in the organization if possible or move on to another company if that worked out better.

Everything was going fine until a Thursday evening when I was ready to leave work. My boss Hector stopped me and said "We have some signed legal documents that need to go across town to our lawyers so they can be filed tomorrow morning. They can't accept a fax; they need the originals. The courier service that was supposed to pick them up flaked. Take them across town and we'll put a little extra in your paycheck."

I readily agreed, as Hector was a nice guy to work for and I could use the extra money. I took the documents, went out to my car, and drove over to the lawyer's office. Little did I realize how my life was about to change. I was within sight of the building when a drunk driver blew through a red light at about 60. He broadsided me. I woke up in a hospital about three hours later. The nurse called for the doctor to come talk to me and said, "there is a Phoenix police officer here to take your statement." She sent him in.

The officer said "this looks open and shut, but I need your statement. We have a witness, a secretary who was looking out the window, waiting for those documents. The drunk driving the other car didn't make it."

I told him what I remembered, he wrote all down and left. He gave me a business card with the report number on it "in case you need it for insurance. Hope you get better soon." He left and Hector walked in. Hector asked me how it was doing, then said "Jake, don't worry about work, we will keep your job open as long as you need. You were working for us when this happened, our insurance has this, it won't cost you a cent. Hector took his leave and the doctor walked in.

He started off, "you were lucky hit as hard as you were. We did X-rays, a CAT scan, and some tests while you were out. No broken bones, no neurological damage except a mild concussion, no organ damage except for some bruising. We'll keep you for forty-eight hours for observation just in case, then we need to decide where to go from there. Your back and neck are really in bad shape."

The next evening, the doctor stopped by just after dinner. He laid out my options. "You're going to be discharged the day after tomorrow. First option is for you to go to skilled nursing, you'll be in traction for a while, then rehab. The other choice is a group of chiropractors were sometimes work with in cases like yours."

Took me about a split second, "I'll take door number two, thanks". A real no brainer. The doctor wrote out a copy of the referral and said, "I'll fax them". I went home Monday morning and called the chiropractors' office and set an appointment for the next morning.

My appointment was for 10AM Wednesday. I had a loaner car from insurance (mine was totaled) but I hurt too much to drive just yet, so I rode the bus and arrived at 9:45. I checked in with the receptionist and took a seat. Promptly at ten, she said "Doctor Johnson will see you now", walking over to the closed door on the left to open it for me. I noticed the nameplate on the door: Christine Johnson D.C.

I had expected a chiropractor would be a burly dude who looked like a cross between an M.D. and a longshoreman. Shows how much I knew. Then for a moment I idly wondered if I'd meet a burly woman who looked like a cross between a nurse and a lumberjack. I don't remember ever being so happy to be wrong in my life.

What I did see was a very attractive woman. She was about 5'9", a little bit on the hefty side of average but not fat at all. Her honey blonde hair was in a ponytail, her eyes we a deep blue, her smile was warm and genuine. She looked to be a little older than me, perhaps 27. She was dressed informally, wearing tight-fitting jeans and an Arizona Diamondbacks jersey. She had the look of a classic tomboy, yet underneath her femininity reached out and touched me, it was so obvious. The 36C's didn't exactly detract from the impression. She was simply breathtaking. I was between girlfriends at the time, and I felt a distinct tickling in my crotch.

Dr. Johnson was the first to speak. "Mr. Masters, welcome. I'm Doctor Christine Johnson, but please call me Chris." I answered "pleased to meet you, Chris. Please call me Jake." She then asked "I have your file here. Where does it hurt the most?" "Between the should blades, but I hurt everywhere between my pelvis and my skull" was my answer. She directed me to lie down on the table face down. It looked like a massage table but more complicated. I lay down and she began the examination.

Her fingers poked and probed quite a bit; it wasn't very comfortable to say the least. Then she turned my head abruptly and I heard a cracking sound. That hurt quite a bit, but after it was over, my neck pain was less than it had been before. "Next I work on your back". She then proceeded to grab me in what wasn't quite a bear hug, and I thought the crack could be heard in the next room. Not pleasant, but I did feel better afterwards.

Chris continued, "now I'm going to do some deep tissue massage, just relax this will likely feel better than the adjustment." I closed my eyes, and she stated massaging me. Her strong hands were applying firm pressure, and occasionally it hurt when she worked a sensitive spot, but overall, it felt incredibly good, better than anything this side of sex I'd ever experienced. I was rather glad I was face down, I got ramrod stiff.

We chatted a bit while she massaged me. I said, "so you're a Diamondbacks fan?" "Sure am, my husband and I have season tickets. Cardinals fan, too. I love the tailgate parties in the parking lot." She said this with a huge smile. At the word "husband", my mind silently uttered "oh shit" and my cock deflated. I answered, "I like football, but baseball is my first love, and I'm a huge Diamondbacks fan." We then spent the rest of the massage taking baseball. The Diamondbacks weren't very good their first season when they came into the league in the 1998 expansion, but what the heck, they were ours. They got better quickly. They went on to win the 2001 World Series. Chris was very knowledgeable about the game.

When the massage ended, I felt a bit disappointed it was over. "That felt really good" I said. "I noticed" she said, looking below my waist. I stammered an apology, but she brushed it off, "massage feels good, and hard-ons happen. Think nothing of it."

Chris then told me about my treatment plan, "your injury will require quite a bit of work for at least three months, but I think I can get you back to 95% of the good shape you were in before the accident. We will schedule you for three days a week for the first month and then see how it goes. I want you to stay away from work for two weeks, then you should be okay for light duty. Did you drive here?"

"No, I took the bus." "Let me call you a taxi, we can afford it, your insurance is paying us a boatload of money. See you in a couple of days." She smiled as she spoke. I got the impression Chris really liked me as a person and a fellow baseball fan, and the feeling was extremely mutual. I made my appointments for the next two weeks with the receptionist. We settled on last appointment of the day Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, as this would fit my work schedule best when I went back to work.

My taxi arrived and took me home. The cabbie had caught a glimpse of Chris as he entered the office, and during the ride he commented "that doc is damned hot, wish she dressed more ladylike. Probably a lesbian anyway." I found myself surprisingly angry, I felt like punching him, but contented myself with saying "I'm pretty sure her husband doesn't think that, and I know I don't. She's fine just being herself and doesn't need your opinion." When we got home, he cursed me when I didn't tip him.

As if I wasn't already cursed enough. I just met the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen who also shared my interests, was smart, funny, and pleasant to talk to or just be around. And the way she touched me... I know it was just professional, but it was so arousing. I wouldn't say I was in love with her, but by God, I wanted her. But this a line I wouldn't cross even in the highly unlikely event she would. I'm not much of a Christian, but "thou shalt not commit adultery" was just too much for me to transgress.

I gave some though to asking to see another doctor. I felt a sharp pain in the pit of my stomach as I thought that. Maybe I should see someone else, but I didn't want to, so much that my body was reacting to the thought. OK, I'd keep my appointments and be a perfect gentleman, and maybe God would understand if I let myself enjoy Chis' touch. I knew I was playing with fire.

I called Hector and told him the news and he said "sure, no problem. You can start at six hours a day for a while when you come back, but we'll pay your salary for full time. I'm glad your prognosis is so good. I was afraid your back would be permanently messed up." I thanked him profusely. I was genuinely fortunate to have a boss who was so understanding.

That night the Diamondbacks were playing, and the game wasn't blacked out, so I watched on TV, drinking a beer, and eating a pastrami sandwich. The game was close, but I found my attention wandering as the camera panned the crowd, and I realized I was hoping to see Chris. I spoke to myself aloud "Jake, stop that. Seventh commandment!" I knew where my hormones wanted to lead me, but quite apart from what God thought, what about Chis? She had an apparently happy marriage and didn't need my horniness interfering. I needed to find a new girlfriend. That's it, it had been too long since I've been with a woman, and choking the chicken just wasn't enough.

Not much chance to date in my current shape, so I tried the next best thing or so I thought at the time. I booked an in-call appointment for a happy ending massage on Saturday. I keep my Friday afternoon appointment with Dr. Chis, and we exchanged friendly banter about baseball and life. I asked her if it would be OK to get massages on the days that I didn't see her (not mentioning what I already had booked) and she said, "tell them to use a light touch. I want to do the heavy work myself to assure it's done right. But light therapeutic massage would probably be good for you. But no fancy stuff like walking on your back. Erotic massage is OK, too if that's your thing." She looked at me quizzically as I blushed, and continued, "I thought so, very normal for a guy your age since you don't have a girlfriend, have fun."

There was no judgement at all in her tone. The understanding warmed me. Men and women both have sexual needs, and it felt good to be able to acknowledge that without provoking anger or disappointment. The though crossed my mind "I hope that lucky son-of-a-bitch she's married to appreciates her and treats her right. I know in a different world I would."

Saturday evening there was a knock at my door. It was the masseuse, a petit Japanese lady in a loose-fitting sundress. Her name was Akira. I got out my wallet and gave her a $50 bill. She put it into her purse and followed me into the bedroom, and as we stripped, I told her what Chris had said about what kind of massage was OK for me and she agreed, though saying "I think you'd enjoy it more if I did some more hardcore massage, but maybe another time when your back gets better." She was pretty, with small but perky breasts. She massaged me thoroughly and then gave me a great blowjob. I came hard but the joy was tinged with sadness that this wasn't really the woman I wanted to give my jizz to. No knock on Akira intended, she was professional and kind, but not who I wanted. I vowed to find a girlfriend soon, so I could stop obsessing about Chris.

I went back to work Monday of the next week after that. I kept up my appointments with Chris. The treatments didn't hurt as much now, and the massage felt even better. My back and neck were recovering nicely. We agreed to cut the appointments back to twice a week. We always talked during the massages, and we got to know each other better. By the second month, she learned that though I had dated quite a bit, I'd never found the right woman to settle down with. She knew all the ups and downs my love like had taken. I learned that her marriage was rather rocky.

She confided, "Larry is a hot-shot lawyer, in fact a bit of an ambulance chaser. He treated me like a princess when we were dating, but now more and more he isn't taking time for me, and saying he wishes I were more of a girly girl. He only wants sex about twice a month and he isn't as good as he used to be--probably doesn't want to take the time. We haven't had kids yet and I'm not sure I want to, at least not with him. I'm only 27 and twice a month isn't enough."

I couldn't let this pass without comment, "Larry is a lucky son-of-a-bitch to have you. You're smart, fun to be around., and extremely easy on the eyes. He's a fool not to treat you right. I shouldn't be saying this, but if you were my wife, I would be making love to you any way your wanted, any time you wanted, for as long as you wanted. And I would consider it a privilege, not a chore."

Chris blushed scarlet and her blue eyes grew misty, "Jake, I believe you. Would that I had met you in college instead of him. If I had, I really doubt I'd doubt I'd ever have this conversation with someone else. But I'm still trying to save my marriage, if I weren't I would be trying to seduce you right now, and I'm sure it wouldn't be any more difficult than saying I want you."

My turn to blush. "You know full well that's all it would take. You see how hard I get from your massages, and it's not just "massages feel good"--it's your touch that electrifies me. I am committing adultery in my heart my heart by feeling that way. I'm sorry to God and to you."

She answered "I'm equally guilty. We really should stop seeing each other, I could hand your case over to another doctor. But I can't bear the thought. Jake you've become a friend and a confessor, and I really can't bear to lose you. I can't love you like you deserve, but I want you to be part of my life. I hope we can stay in touch after your treatment is done."

I could only answer, "yes, absolutely. Everything I am to you, you are to me, I don't want to lose you. I know we are playing with fire."

.

She said, "you will need to date other women. I will feel a little jealous, but I want this for you. You deserve a woman who can love you completely. Whoever she turns out to be, she'll be one lucky bitch."

"My heart won't be in it, at least not at first. But I will give it my best. That should work out the bast for both of us." We both teared up and embraced. I had just four appointments left. I took my leave and stopped off a beer bar to have a few beers and think. It was a nice place with a fun atmosphere, and the bar maid were pretty, and most of them were flirty but I wasn't interested now, though I made a mental note to come back here later when I felt better.

My thoughts ran along these lines: Fact #1, whether I willed or not, I was in love with Chris. She touched my heart more deeply than she ever touched my body, and more deeply than anyone ever had. Fact #2, she was married though unhappily, but she was committed to working on her marriage. Fact #3, she deserved the time and space to do that work. Fact #4, as an honorable man, I had no choice but to give her that time and space. Fact #5, my heart was going to ache until and unless I found someone who could fill the hole in my heart. Fact #6, I had to put on my big boy pants and face up to all the above. I had never said "I love you" to Chris, and vowed I never would. I felt sure she knew anyway. I had a gut-level feeling that was mutual.

Did I say I was cursed? That cabbie didn't know a quarter of it. Life went on and I had my last four sessions with Chris. We were still very cordial, but we kept a certain distance. We exchanged email addresses and vowed to keep in touch. We'd end up emailing each other every day. We shared everything in our lives. I heard all the ups and downs of her rocky marriage, she heard all about my dating misadventures. This went on a few months. I had never been this emotionally close to a woman. We would meet for coffee or lunch whichever fit our schedules better about once a week.

Then I met Maggie. A file clerk in a nearby department. Flame red hair, and I later found out with a temper to match. We started dating. I never really thought she might be the one, but she was fun to go out with and the sex was good. She really deserved better, but that was all I had to give--my heart was taken.

Meanwhile, I was doing quite well in my job. Hector kept giving me extra responsibilities, and I handled them effortlessly. I got raises and a promotion. About a year after the accident, he called me into his office, saying "Jake, my boss is retiring in six months, and he's preparing me to take over his job. I want you to have my job when I move up. Hell, you're two thirds of the reason this department runs so well anyway, you'll do fine."

By any reasonable measure, I was successful. I was on the fast track to rise in the company with the promise of a fatter paycheck. I had a beautiful girlfriend, though we quarreled quite a bit--I'd become all too familiar with her temper. I wasn't happy, there was a Chris-shaped hole in my heart. I told Chris all of this except the last. Meeting her was always bittersweet. Much of the time I was comforting her when she had a fight with Larry, or she was comforting me when Maggie had another tantrum. Classic tea and sympathy situation, but with us it was more like coffee and donuts or beer and pretzels.

Maggie was pressing for marriage. I don't think she loved me, and I didn't love her. It was getting so the sex was less frequent and not as good as well. I'm sure she wanted the money and status of marrying the company's rising star. If she had loved me, maybe I could learn to love her in return but that wasn't happening. I put it off for about a year.

During this time, Maggie sometimes kicked me out of the house. One Saturday morning she told me "Get out of house today, I can't stand you right now." I hopped in my car and drove over to the ballpark as the Diamondbacks were at home that day. When I got in line to buy the ticket, I saw Chris about fifteen people ahead of me in line. She saw me and moved in back of where I was. She was wearing her tight jeans and Diamondbacks jersey, with a baseball cap on top of that lovely hair. She wasn't wearing her signature ponytail, her hair was down past her shoulders, half in front and half in back and her hair reached almost to her nipples. I involuntarily gasped at the sight of her. I'd never seen her with her hair down. Breathtaking didn't begin to describe her. Drop-dead gorgeous, that's a pale shadow of it.