Love Conquers All

Copyright 2012 by madengineer3

When I was under a year old my mother died. My father wasn't comfortable around infants and did not have the money for a nanny or such. He had an adoption agency find a good home for me. I was adopted by the Aziz family. My name became Sarai Aziz. They were of middle-Eastern origin and were Christians. Few people realize that one of the earliest denominations of Christianity was that of the Copts in Egypt and orthodox Churches in Turkey, Syria, and other nations of that area.

I had red hair. Most people don't realize that red hair was not unheard of in King David's time.

Upon graduating college, as a mechanical engineer, I married a fellow student, Harry Jones. I had become Sarai Jones.

The marriage was a bad mistake. He turned out to be possessive and violent. Our marriage ended in divorce and him being sentenced to twenty years in prison. Why twenty years? His last beating left my right arm all but useless, my face was not perfect after they set the facial bones, and my vision was badly impaired to the point I was considered legally blind. There were other less obvious damages as well. I had a decent body but could not drive a car or walk any significant distance.

Since he did not have a lot of money I had to try to stretch my funds as far as possible.

I couldn't work as a mechanical engineer since my vision was so messed up. As such I tried to do several part time jobs to support myself.

I ended up mainly tutored high school and college mathematics and physics. Those were two of my best subjects. I also, when a student was available, tutored subjects in mechanical engineering.

The income wasn't very good so I needed to find an inexpensive, but safe, room to rent.

My choice was to rent two rooms from a widower named Paul George. One was my sleeping quarters and the other was for tutoring. Paul was a good man but was also crippled. He had been in an industrial accident. The company he worked for had tried to save money and bought some equipment and tools from a supplier who got them from mainland China. One of the supports, for the scaffolding he was using, broke and he fell thirty some feet onto the concrete. He was lucky to be alive. His employer's insurance company paid out a very large lump sum and a monthly allowance to cover his medical and living costs. Money was not a problem for Paul.

Paul and I got along well. My rent was low because I could help him with some household chores that he was incapable of doing. (No, I wasn't sleeping with him.)

Things went along very nicely for a couple of years. During that time I never saw Paul go out on dates and he never had "women" come in to keep him company.

One evening we were sitting in the living room and talking. He sat on the couch and I sat on a chair. He asked me why I wasn't dating anyone. By this time I trusted him enough to be honest.

"Paul, my first husband beat me very badly. All my physical damage is as a result of that beating. I am afraid to risk going out with anyone. There are also injuries that you cannot see, and that I don't talk about, that also make me hesitant to be with a man."

"He must have been an idiot! You are a nice, and caring, person. What happened to him?"

"He still has over fifteen years of his sentence to serve. Since he is considered a violent offender, parole is not at all likely. Let me ask you a question as well. Why don't you have dates with women to ease your sexual frustration? After all, I am not blind and can see you watching me when I bend over or stretch to get something?"

There was a long moment of silence.

"Sarai, I will answer that only because I trust you. My accident, among other things, broke my pelvis in a couple of places. Unfortunately the damage included the destruction of the nerves that are required to achieve an erection. On top of that my groin area is scarred enough so that a vacuum device cannot be used to cause and erection. I am impotent."

"How do you keep your sanity? I mean, all men need a sexual outlet; right?"

"This is getting awfully difficult for me, but I will answer your question anyway. If I use a vibrator I can achieve a sort of orgasm. The penis doesn't get hard but at least the sensory nerves are still functional. I hope I haven't embarrassed you."

At this point I could see a few tears running down his face. He looked profoundly sad. I couldn't just sit there and watch so I got up and went over and sat next to him on the couch. I then leaned over and kissed his cheek and laid my head on his shoulder.

Moments later I could feel his fingers running through my hair. It was the closest contact I had encountered with a male since my divorce.

After several minutes I guess I sighed (in a happy way). This led to Paul using his other arm to hug me to his side. I snuggled up against him and all but purred.

A long time passed and neither of us had spoken or tried to move. I broke the silence.

"Mmmmmmmm, this is wonderful. Thank you for being you! I couldn't trust anyone else like this."

"No, Sarai, thank you. I haven't felt this alive or this turned on since before my accident. I wish that this wasn't a one time thing."

"Who says it has to be a one time thing? Not, me!"

Paul grinned.

"I'm hoping that this will become a somewhat regular event. The problem I will have is that you are probably going to hear a lot more noise from my vibrator. You have turned me on something fierce."

I eventually had to get up to use the bathroom. When I came out is was just about bedtime.

In the days, then weeks, then months that followed there were few evenings that didn't end with us cuddling on the couch. I think we were both much happier people as a result.

It was during our Thanksgiving dinner that Paul popped the question. "Sarai, you know I am limited and cannot fully satisfy a woman. You also know that I am much older than you. Knowing that, would you be willing to marry me?"

I couldn't say yes fast enough. I got up, went to his chair and hugged his head to me. It happened to be right on top of my breasts. Paul let out a long sigh.

He asked, "When do you want to get married?"

" How soon can we get married?"

"Why don't we get the license tomorrow and marry as soon as it can legally be done?"

"Sounds good to me darling. No, it sounds wonderful to me."

*************

We tied the knot and honeymooned on his big bed. We both saw each other's scars. I found that besides using the vibrator I could get him to orgasm with my mouth. Due to my difficulties he satisfied me with a dildo vibrator and oral stimulation. We were a happy couple.

Christmas had arrived and we were cuddled together on the couch watching a small fire in the fireplace. We started to talk about the distant past.

"What happened to your first wife, Paul? You never talk about her."

"She died shortly after our daughter was born. I feel the pain and loss every time I think of her. I couldn't take care of the baby so I let an adoption agency find a good home for her."

"My story is sort of the mirror image of yours. I grew up in a wonderfully warm home. They told me that I was adopted as soon as I was old enough to understand what adoption was. I didn't look like the rest of their kids but I was loved just as much."

"Did you ever hear anything about your birth parents?"

"Yeah, it's sort of like your story. My birth mother had died and my father couldn't take care of me. Back then I became Sarai Aziz, it is my marriage that made me Sarai Jones."

Paul's face went white and his jaw dropped open.

"Sarai, where did the Aziz family live?"

"Over in Smithtown. Why?"

"What was your birth date?"

"January seventh nineteen eighty one."

"Did you live near 143 Thomas Ave?

"Yes, that was the address. How did you know?"

Paul had tears in his eyes.

"What's wrong darling?"

"Sarai, you were that daughter I gave up. I still have the paperwork that shows who adopted you."

"Daughter or not, you are now my husband and lover. The fact that you are my father doesn't matter to me. What matters is that we love each other and are husband and wife."

I reached over and hugged my darling, Paul, and kissed him deeply.

*************

That was twenty years ago. We have been happily married and have moved into old age together, even if there is a twenty-two year difference in our ages. Lord willing, we will have several more years to enjoy each other.