My Daughter's Feet Ch. 12

February 2012: I sit in my chair watching a blank television screen while sipping on a Captain Morgan and Pepsi. The first three, I slammed. I just returned from the Vet after putting to sleep our seventeen year old Shetland Sheepdog. How do you gage if a year is going to be good or not? Every year since I was a child, I sang that stupid song on New Year's. You know the one. The one you sing then kiss everybody and wish them a happy and prosperous New Year. Bah humbug. In a few minutes, I will get up and refill my drink before I sit in front of a blank computer screen and start typing a story for all to read. The house is quiet. So quiet I bet you could hear a pin drop. If I had one, I would test the theory. Funny thing though, last year at this time, it was quiet in more of a hushed tone. Relatives and close friends were here. Corinne was upstairs sleeping. Kayla and Katrina were putting out food for all who was here. Ken and Dan were mingling in the crowd. Bridgette and I sat on the couch holding hands. We just buried our mother. How much can change in a year? Well let me tell you. Keep up with me now.

February 2011: Everyone here is munching on some kind of snack, or drinking some kind of drink. Well almost everyone. I'm not, nor is Corinne. In fact, Corinne hasn't been out of the bedroom since Kayla brought her home from her chemotherapy appointment four days ago. Tomorrow she will start to feel better, the next day she will get out of bed and do some work from home, the next day she will be fine, then the next day she will go to chemotherapy again, and knock her down for another week. While on vacation in Wisconsin three years ago, she collapsed. At the time I thought it was from heat exhaustion. When doctors told me they were flying her to University Hospital in Madison, I knew it wasn't from the heat. When I finally made it there, the doctors at UW-Hospital told me she had cancer. When I asked what kind they scratched their heads and said it was global. More tests had to be done. While there, Corinne admitted she never went to see a doctor. It will be discovered through many different types of tests Corinne started out with ovarian cancer which spread to her stomach and intestines. Now, cancer has overtaken her body. She has no hair from treatments, and you would swear she snacks on Black Cat firecrackers. They won't take her remaining teeth out, she would bleed to death. So it's better if she looks like a bald witch. On her good days, she will put on a wig to sit out on the deck. She doesn't smile anymore. We were at her chemo appointment four days ago when the assisted living staff called and said my mother died sometime during the night.

My mother fell and broke her hip in August. Or should I say broke her hip and fell. She had hip surgery, and her health steadily declined from there. In November, Bridgette and I decided the assisted living was the best option for her. She lasted six months post-surgery.

Bridgette has offered repeatedly to take care of me since Corinne can't. I have mostly used her for help and support. At my age, and going through all this, sex is really the furthest thing from your mind. It's no longer important. I don't know what I'd do without her today. We have become best friends.

Kayla is still the secretary at the parochial school; got a degree in school administration; and her two sons Trevor and Trenton are in the fourth and first grade at the school she works at. Trent is making a get well soon card to his great-grandma. Trev is outside doing something.

Dan has gone on two deployments to Afghanistan, and two to Iraq. He hasn't made major yet, and is seemingly stuck at captain. When he is home, he works as a security guard for a hospital. Within two months, he will be called up again.

Ken is currently a Lieutenant in the United States Navy, assigned to a ship in the Mayport basin as the Chief Engineer. He married his longtime girlfriend Stephanie four years ago, and they have a daughter who is two, and currently needing a nap.

Katrina got her Juris Doctorate in law, and was the assistant to the assistant district attorney for a year before she took her brains and degree for a corporate attorney position in Miami. Last year she made close to a quarter-million dollars. She lives with her life partner Meredith who she met in college. It took Corinne whapping me upside the head (literally) at Christmas five years ago after I said something stupid, for me to realize Katrina was a lesbian. I never would have guessed it otherwise. I just thought they were good friends living together in a studio apartment. Meredith specializes in civil law and is a strong supporter of same sex marriages. Both are pretty, but I could be biased toward Katrina. I think the term is lipstick lesbian. Neither of them looks nor dresses masculine.

In mid-March, I will take Corinne to her chemotherapy appointment. She had two good days this week, and up until fifteen minutes ago, it was going on number three...in a row too yet. She was chipper this morning and we enjoyed coffee together. Well, she drank water, but she made the coffee. She was even a little frisky, something I haven't seen in her in almost three years now. The closer we got to the clinic, the more subdued she became. By the time I pulled into the parking lot, her hands were folded in her lap, her head was hanging down, and a tear streaming down her cheek. I parked the car, turned it off and cupped my hand under her chin turning her head to look at me. I forced a smile at her.

"You ready?" I asked. Her seemingly hollow eye sockets stared me back, her sunken cheeks trembling. The eyes which always made me lost in them while they smiled and danced at me were gone. She forced a smile back and nodded her head. "I love you Cory." Her small smile wasn't forced this time. I got out of the car and walked around the back of it to her door. I opened it and gave her my hand to help her out. She sat with her head down, hands folded in her lap yet. "Cory?" I knelt down by her door and put my hand on her bony shoulder. "You ready?"

"No Brad." She said in a frail voice. "Please don't make me go in there."

"But..." I didn't want to argue with her, but I didn't know what to do. "...you have to."

"Please Brad." She turned her head. "I don't want to. I can't anymore."

"Cory...what are you saying?" I didn't understand.

"Please take me home Brad. Please." Her sobs went through her whole body. "I don't want to be sick for days anymore Brad. Please just take me home."

"I'll do anything for you Cory." I said to her. "If that's what you really want, then I'll do it."

Corinne put her frail hand over mine on her shoulder. "That's what I really want Brad. I don't want to be sick anymore. I'd rather have another good day with you, and suffer the consequences later. Please take me home."

I smiled at her. "You got it babe. We're going home." As we left the parking lot, I called in to the clinic. "Corinne and I won't be in today. ...fine. ...don't worry about it. ...do what you have to do. ...cancel all future appointments as well. ...have a nice day." The further we drove from the clinic and the closer we got toward home, her face brightened and her happy mood returned.

The next day while I was at work, I consulted with a doctor friend of mine and he referred me to a friend of his who specialized in holistic medicine. "He's a little off the cuff Brad, but I think you'll like him. He tells it like it is. No bull." I set up an appointment with him for the following week. After convincing Corinne she won't be sick after seeing him, she agreed to go. His staff was very friendly, helpful and knowledgeable. They ran a few tests and a couple hours later he came into the exam room.

"Well..." the doc said as he slapped his knee after he sat down on his stool. "No bullshit. You definitely got cancer. Bad too." I started to like this guy. No medical mumbo jumbo here. "Problem is: you waited way too long before you decided to do something about it. I don't think we can fix ya." Corinne put her head down. "Now you just hold on a gosh dang minute. I didn't say we weren't going to try. We aint gonna use any of that high tech baloney that has done nothing but made you miserable."

"What's the plan doc?" I asked him.

"Don't know son." He responded. "But I think we gonna audible in most of the plays."

I liked this guy. He had me reeling backward shaking my head in surprise. I knew instantly he was going to tell it like it is, not sugar coat it. And calling me son? Well, let's just say I had thirty years on this kid. I knew I had to reel him in a little.

"Okay. I don't mind your bedside manner, but you won't call me son again. We clear?" I leveled a stare at him. "You won't offend me, and you can speak freely, but you will respect my wife. Got it?"

He held his hands up. "Alright. Now we getting somewhere. I know where I stand with you" He put his hands back down. "Let me say it like this here. We gonna start out trying some different kind of shit to see how it's going to go down. I'm not saying it's going to put all or any the cancer in remission, but my goal is to improve her quality of life." He looked around her head to look at her face which she was still hanging down. "What you have left of it."

"How long do you think she has?" I asked

"Don't know" he shook his head. "But I didn't see any expiration date on Corinne either. Even after all those tests we ran. It isn't stamped on the bottom of her foot or across her forehead." He smiled. "I can say a week and you sue me because she lives for six months." He shrugged his shoulders. "Or vice versa."

"Okay okay." I chuckled. "How are we going to improve her quality of life?"

"Well. ..." he rubbed his chin. "...Corinne aint gonna be sick no seven days a week from chemo anymore. Improvement there aint it? Maybe she can grow some hair back. That would be good too right? And maybe I can make her smile without embarrassment. I'm sure Corinne had a very pretty smile before all this shit started. Work for you?"

"Works for me." I grinned at him.

"Me too." Corinne said trying to hide her smile.

"I notice your eyes as well Corinne." He dropped his joking demeanor. "I may be young, but I can tell your husband loved looking into your eyes." He lifted her chin with his hand so she would look at him. "If I ask him, do you think he would tell me your eyes always danced at him?" I turned my head and looked at the wall. Hell yes I wanted her eyes back. I wanted those eyes with her look complete with the forehead press. "I'm going to try real hard so he can see them dance at him again. Okay?"

Corinne nodded. "Please doctor." Her meek voice spoke. "I would give up all I have to be able to give him the look he loves. The one that is only for him."

"Well then..." he slapped his knee again. "Let's get started shall we?"

Whatever he started giving Corinne, it worked. We went every week for continuing care. Within a month, Corinne started growing hair back. The toothpaste he gave her didn't make her teeth white, but it didn't look like she snacked on firecrackers either. There was a pep in her step, a little of her friskiness returned, and best of all she wasn't sick most of the week. We did try a few times to have intercourse, but she just wasn't able to. "We can work on that next." Our new doctor joked.

In April, Dan was called up again for deployment to Iraq. This time, he didn't have to, but if he did, the Army would promote him to major. The week he left, him and I sat at the firefighters bar and had the 'if anything happens' talk for the fifth time. It was always the same. I was told first so Kayla wouldn't be alone when they knocked on her door. We did a little bar hopping and ended up at a very seedy hole in the wall strip club. By this time, we were so far in the bag it didn't matter to us. All the two's looked liked tens. A few hours, a couple dollars at the strippers, and many drinks later Dan texted Kayla to give us a ride home. That went over like a fart in church. An hour later as we were going to stumble to the car, Kayla and Bridgette walked into the place. Since Dan and I were the only ones who had money, or who were willing to give it to the strippers, most of them who weren't dancing were standing around us.

"Uh-oh Dan..." I said to him. "...We're in trouble. Hide!"

"Oh shit!" He responded.

We didn't hide too well. Kayla and Bridgette shooed away the strippers from around us. Bridgette picked my money off the bar and stuffed it down her shirt. Kayla slammed down the rest of our beers. I guess it was time to go. We all piled into Bridgette's car, and instead of taking us home, we went to another bar. It was then I realized this was a well planned and coordinated temptress attack. They both wore short skirts and tops that revealed a lot of cleavage. Both wore nylons, Bridgette suntan and Kayla black. Kayla wore the stripper heels I saw underneath her bed many years ago, very glossy cherry red lipstick, and her hair hung over her right eye. Bridgette almost looked the same except for the shoes. Bridgette wore very high glossy black closed toe heels. Bridgette and Kayla shoved us into a half-circle booth in the corner where the lighting was low sandwiching us between the two of them. When Dan got up and went to the bathroom, Bridgette put my hand between her legs. She was not wearing panties, and she was wet. Kayla lifted her leg onto the seat as Bridgette pulled my erect penis out. With a soft "daddy lookit" I noticed she wasn't wearing panties either and using the pink vibrator on herself. Bridgette sure knew how to use her hands, and when she told Kayla I was going to blow, Kayla took her shoe off and placed her foot on my thigh. "Cum on my feet daddy." Bridgette aimed my penis at it, and I did.

"Wake up sleepy head." Bridgette's voice was in my ear. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. I was in Bridgette's apartment. How the hell did I get here? Bridgette laughed. "You passed out the second Kayla shut the car door." I was still trying to get my bearings. "I called Corinne and told her you were here sleeping it off. When you're ready, I'll take you home." I was still fully clothed. Bridgette wasn't wearing anything close to what I thought she was wearing. "Must've been a hell of a dream." She laughed at me. I looked down and my pants were still tented out.

"Bridge..." I said groggily. "...what the hell happened?"

"Kayla and I found you and Dan in something you guys call a stripper bar." Bridgette said lightly laughing at me. "You passed out in the car and I dragged your heavy ass here. You've been asleep about two hours now." I looked at my watch, and it wasn't even one-thirty in the morning. "I know." She said. "Sad. You were passed out long before bar time." She laughed at me again. "You're definitely not the partier you think you are."

"So why did you wake me up?" I said with a still groggy voice.

"Really Brady?" Bridgette gave me a funny look and laughed. "I'm trying to watch tv, and you're over here on the couch moaning and groaning. You were playing with yourself through your pants." She got up and sat on the end of the couch. She was wearing jeans and a sweater. Not the short skirt and revealing top I thought she had on. She crossed her left leg over her right. I instinctively looked. No shoes, but she was wearing the suntan nylons. "I had to stop you before you woke my neighbors with your moans and you spermed your pants." She shifted a little and my hand grasped her foot. She looked down at it for a minute then smiled at me. "Must've been a hell of a dream." She winked. "Was I in it?"

"Holy shit Bridge." I said as I put my arm over my eyes. "It was. And yes you were."

"Oh really." Bridgette said flatly as she leaned back against the arm of the couch. I brought her foot to my face and kissed her sole. Her foot smelled like shoe leather. "Was I any good?" she gently said as she placed her other foot on my left thigh. I nodded. "May I?" I nodded again, and her other foot began gently going up and down over my erect penis still in my pants.

"Oh Bridge..." I gasped. "...that feels so good. Been a while since I felt that." She lightly laughed as I clumsily unbuttoned, unzipped and took out my erect penis for her. Her foot gently rubbed it again when it was out. A minute later, she stood up.

"Take your pants off Brad." Demi Moore huskily said. "Jack-off while you watch me." I did as I was told and she started a strip-tease for me. "If it's a stripper you want...I can be that for you." When she got down to her pantyhose, she ripped a hole in the crotch. She sat down on my lap and put my erect penis against her vagina. "May I Brad? Please? It's been so long." I kissed her and said yes against her lips. She lifted up on her knees and put me in her. She closed her eyes as she took me all the way to the hilt. For the first time in twenty some years, I was balls deep in my sister. The only other female I have ever had sex with. "Oh God Brad." Her voice quivered. She fell forward and began to bounce up and down. "It's been years since I had a cock in me." She growled into my ear. "Fuck me good little brother." After her second orgasm, I stood up and carried her to her bedroom. I laid her down on her bed, lifted her legs over my shoulders, and entered her again. As I slowly picked up speed, I put her stocking feet into my face and kissed and smelled them. As I felt my orgasm approaching, I lay on top of her and held her tightly to me. Her stocking legs locked behind my back, her feet bouncing against my ass spurring me on keeping me inside her. With a grunt, I ejaculated deep inside her as she cried out in her own orgasm. After we shared a cigarette, she performed Corinne's favorite activity. She masturbated me to orgasm while I kissed and smelled her nylon feet. After cleaning up, she put on a short skirt and heels to drive me back to my car. She fished my penis out as she drove giving me a lazy handjob until we got there. Demi asked me to fuck her again, and I entered her from behind over the hood of her car. We shared another cigarette before I gave her a goodnight kiss. I made it home and flopped down on the couch. I didn't want to disturb Corinne, plus I had a splitting headache from too much alcohol.

Corinne, Kayla, Bridgette, myself, and Dan's parents all stood at the airport at 3am to say good-bye to him. It was the end of April. Corinne was having up and down days, but she still wasn't as sick as she was with chemotherapy. When we got back home, Corinne went back to bed. A half-hour later, Bridgette and I made love in Kayla's old bedroom. As she always used to pull on me, Corinne came in just as I was finishing up and gently rubbed my back as I ejaculated inside Bridgette. Corinne was calling me her stallion. It startled me she was there and caught us fooling around, and I woke up with my erect penis in between Corinne's chicken legs. I was spooning my wife. She had a faint smile on her face, still sleeping, her hand underneath my penis full of my sperm. I need to stop dreaming like this.

Corinne did grow some of her hair back, and while it wasn't the reddish brown it was before, nor a full head of hair, some grew and it was gray now. There was enough hair to style, and her hairdresser did the best she could with what she had. More importantly, the eyes I always got lost in as they smiled and danced at me returned. I thanked the good doctor profusely. While Bridgette kept me in line with my fire department affairs, I was able to finally go to work and not worry if Corinne would be okay or not. We tried to have intercourse again, but she still wasn't able to. She felt like a failure since I was raring to go, but she couldn't perform. I would lay with her in bed and snuggle with her until she would fall sleep. Just like always before she got sick, her hand would hold my penis against her leg.