Roller Coaster Ride Ch. 12

Roller Coaster Ride

There is plenty of sex in this chapter, but none between persons under the age of eighteen. If you haven't read the previous eleven chapters, the characters will be difficult to understand. I edit my own work, so all errors are mine. All characters are, ultimately, sexually amoral, it seems.

At the end of Chapter 11, Katy was released from the hospital and brought home by Tim.

Chapter 12

Katy's reunion with the boys is as joyful as her reunion with her mother is tearful. I'll give Granny credit; she's nothing but loving and supportive, reserving any questions she may have for another day. Her dad, of course, is beaming and thankful that his pride-and-joy is home and looking healthy. I fervently hope they never know what I know.

The entire afternoon is joyous, and Katy's interaction with the boys is both loving and spontaneous; she is so focused on them she's keying in on every word, every inflection. She's the doting mom the boys love, the devoted child her parents love, and the woman I fell in love with: all sweetness and light.

My call to the doctor is positive and therefore quick. She tells me to be observant and keep her informed.

Monday, January 11

The evening had been a bit awkward, even after the joy-filled day. She is shy, almost embarrassed to be sharing a bed with me. I'm not sure how intimate to be with her; I don't want to push her too soon, but I want her to feel loved and secure. I felt a tinge of guilt that I cheated on my wife in this very bed just two nights ago, before pushing my feelings aside and focusing on making her feel comfortable. I compliment her on how cute she looks in the flannel pajama set she had worn to bed, kiss her forehead, nose, and lips, tell her I love her, and turn off the lamp.

She lay rather stiffly beside me as I laid stiffly beside her, neither of us sleeping, but not touching. After a few minutes, she said quietly "I know I owe you an explanation..."

I quickly interject, "No, you don't! When you WANT to talk about that, something else, or anything at all, I'm here for you. But you don't 'owe me an explanation.' Don't dredge thing up out of some sense of duty: your job is to get 100% well, healthy, and happy. We have the rest of our lives to sort things out."

She sighed, snuggled up closer to me, took off the pajama bottoms, laid her leg over mine, and was asleep, in her favorite position, in a minute or less. The night terrors struck only a short while later; she struggled, started, cried out in fear and in pain. Powerless to help, I just woke her up, held her, and we slowly went back to sleep.

***

The morning was chaotic and hyper because we all overslept. Katy dressed the boys while I shaved, showered, and got dressed. She has them in the car with the motor running when I hit the front door. I pause, look her over, smile, tell her again how good she looks in her big pajamas, wish her a very good day, remind her to call her doctor at 11:30, and invite her to call me if she needs anything, or just wants to talk.

Dropping the boys off at Betsy's is a bit awkward given our recent interaction, and I hurry on to school. Yes, I'm about 45 minutes early, but that is later than my norm. I quickly compose an email to the faculty and staff that covers several key topics for the week, ending with "Katy is back home and recovering well. She hopes to return to school soon; I'll keep you posted."

I'm in my office with the door closed instead of in the hall greeting everyone, but when they get the email all is well. Before classes even begin, I've gotten replies from pretty much everyone expressing their gratitude for Katy's recovery and wishing her the best.

The first period of offseason workouts for the athletes, just before first lunch, goes even better than I hoped, with well-prepared coaches and highly focused and eager athletes. It's like a gigantic mentoring session, with demonstrations, admonitions about the correct way to do the lift/drill, and a lot of loud appreciation for efforts.

Girl's athletics is just before second lunch, and, after a thorough explanation of how this will make you leaner, more agile, less prone to injury, but not 'muscle bound', the girls and their coaches are every bit as enthusiastic as the boys. I jubilantly return to the elementary campus, more hopeful than ever that all of this is going to work.

Katy calls about 1:30 and asks how my day is going; I tell her to facetime me, and I give her an animated update when she does. Her smile displays her happiness for me, and perhaps gives me a forecast of her summary of the call with her doctor. She asks if I think it would be okay for her to go over to Joyce's shop to thank her in person.

I tell her to do whatever she feels up to, but don't overdo. She agrees and asks me about her class. I tell her the substitute teacher is Samantha Cole, and her fellow K teachers are helping her, so don't worry, and have fun with Joyce.

I send Joyce a text "Company's coming - no wine" with a finger wagging emoji. She responds with an eye roll gif.

My afternoon rounds end with a visit to the early childhood wing, which I enjoy because of all the excitement "Mr. Kelly!" generates, and the leg-hugs he gets. I visit with the other K teachers before making it to Katy's room. I hang around after school lets out, for more leg-hugs and yells of "Goodbye Mr. Kelly" from scores of 4-6 year olds, and to talk to Samantha, who asks me to call her Sami.

I ask her how things are going, and she tells me they are such good kids and have been so well trained that they practically teach themselves! I assure her that her work in appreciated, that she will be at the top of our sub list going forward, and in consideration for any opening in the future. She beams and thanks me, I thank her for her good work, and she walks away. I can't help but watch her trim figure and long legs, her wavy hair, and remember her burnt-caramel complexion and those big brown eyes smiling at me.

I go get the boys and take them home to a waiting mommy who is again doting and effusive in expressing her love; they eat it up, playing up to her as much as she does to them. I get a smile, a greeting, and, when she stands, a light kiss. Supper is in the oven, so we're free to play for an hour, and we do. Life is great, just as it was back before...

Bedtime for the boys is happy and sweet; for the adults it is again awkward. Covered from chin to feet with flannel pajamas after a closed-bathroom shower, my wife slips into bed and lies on 'her side', eschewing her traditional place in the middle. Again I move across the boundary to kiss her head, nose, and mouth, and run my hand under her top to rest on her sunken belly. Although I go no further, she tenses up, but relaxes when I don't push it.

I stay in the middle; she moves her head against my shoulder and goes to sleep. I remove my hand and lie there. She's engaged with the devil within an hour, and the battle continues on and off for another hour or more.

We haven't talked about her call to the doctor, her visit with Joyce, or anything else of adult consequence. I don't want to push her, but I'm not sure whether this is healthy; I vow to ask lots of questions when I call the doctor Wednesday for my check-in.

Tuesday, January 12

Everything is running like clockwork and I'm ready to take the boys right on time. Katy wishes me a good day and says she is spending the day with her mom and dad. "Sounds like a fine day, my love. Keep in mind that while 'confession is good for the soul' when it comes to priests, 'what you don't know won't hurt you' is a better guide when dealing with doting parents. I say that because your mother is curious enough that she may pry, but..." I warn her, in a very lighthearted way.

"Remember that I have to be the administrator at the high school basketball games tonight, so you guys will need to pick up the boys. I should be home by 9:30 or so." She says she remembers and will see me tonight. I give her a peck and hurry to the car.

Betsy looks ravishing, but being on my reformed behavior, I merely tell her she does, which makes her beam and wink.

The school day goes swimmingly, the offseason workouts even better, and I stand at the parent pickup area to greet parents and say goodbye to students at the end of the day. A couple of moms carpooling tell me they are hearing good things about me from their elementary kids and from their high school athletes. I tell them how great their kids are and how much I'm enjoying my jobs, and they leave with smiles. The last car in line is someone I know, and the freckled boy and girl who scamper into her car look just like her.

I open the back door for the kids and address the driver through her window: "Hi, Sandy; it's good to see you! How are things at the library?"

Her green eyes are sparkling, her cheeks flushed, "I'm fine, and things at the library are fine. How are you?"

"Doing good, thanks! Have you guys at the high school even noticed I'm not there?" I joke.

"Haha. You are THE hot topic at HS, and have been since the New Year started. Congratulations on your promotions, but don't forget your old friends" she teases back.

"Oh, I certainly haven't forgotten my friends. In fact, I'll be there tonight for the roundball games and again on Friday after lunch. Okay if I swing by and visit?" I ask. She replies "Of course!"

We exchange goodbyes, and she drives off. My lecherous mind couldn't help but take note that her dress was pulled up, exposing her pretty legs to mid-thigh, and the mildly flirtatious manner, both of which are out-of-character for the more repressed Sandy I knew in the fall. But, as I've learned, a few weeks can make a lot of difference.

***

Tonight's district games are the freshman/JV/varsity girls, which is largely a different crowd of parents than the football crowd. They are, however, just as impassioned, and the gym is full and noisy. Tanya is intently watching her younger kids play, but finds time to talk about the direction of the strength and conditioning program and how impressed she, the other girls' program coaches, and the girls are with the program. I tell her how excited I am about the enthusiasm they are showing at workouts, and promise it will make a difference in athleticism and conditioning.

Several dads and moms stop by to ask about Katy, and all are positive about me taking over the athletic program "even if you are only 26," says one of our old curmudgeons. The parents who also have kids at the elementary are even more positive, so I'm feeling pretty good about myself as the second half of the JV game starts. Someone pokes me in the ribs on both sides; I spin around to find two of my favorite teachers, Jennie and Evie, looking innocent with big smiles on their faces. I spontaneously hug both of them at once, they giggle, and Jennie quietly warns "Careful stud; you're on candid camera" in reference to those watching from the bleachers.

We disengage but walk around the corner next to the coach's office. We continue talking animatedly about their new semester, my new jobs, and what they are hearing from parents about me. It's all good, which further builds my ego, but I have duties, so they go into the bleachers and I return to my station to watch the game. Not one negative thing from Jennie, no mention of her husband Mike; I guess she made peace with the changes, or, at least, she's not mad at me.

All three teams win handily against one of the better district teams; I conclude that Tonya has built the strong program she was hired to build, and that the varsity should do well in the playoffs.

I've congratulated each coach and her players after each game, and stay to do the same when the varsity girls and their coach come out of their locker room. Doors have been locked; I turn off the lights when everyone is out, and head for the exit to the parking lot just as Tonya comes back in saying "I forgot my purse!" I make fun of her, but wait while she runs back into the locker room.

When she gets back, she thanks me for waiting, steps up against me, looks up with a coquettish grin and asks, "What can I do to show my appreciation for you waiting for me?"

My hormones surge, remembering the feel of her trim, athletic body, but I fight them down and reply, "As good as you feel, I'm your boss now, so..."

She looks disappointed, but says she understands, and we walk out with her asking me what I thought of her team. I enthuse "Your whole program looks great, and your varsity team may be playing into March. I guarantee you I will provide a very positive evaluation before I leave this job, so it will be in the record for the next AD."

T looks at me with a wry smile "You really think you are a 'place holder' AD? Coach, there will be a revolution if you aren't named the AD/HFC, and I'll lead it, backed by a thousand parents and athletes."

I shake my head "I've been on the job for less than a week, so I'm not sure the superintendent and board think I've proven anything quite yet."

"Believe what you want, but get ready because it is coming soon, and I have that from good sources," she counters.

I drive home on a high; giddy again with the ego-stroking I've received. The house is dark, but I navigate to the boys' room to kiss them good night, and proceed to the bedroom to shower and get ready for bed. Katy looks to be sleeping, in her big flannel PJs again, so I resolve to leave her be. When I climb in, however, she snuggles her butt up to me and I find she's wearing only the pajama top and panties.

My inflated ego, repressed libido, and raging testosterone levels respond to her sleepy snuggle by engorging my cock, so I wrap my arms around her. She makes a little sound and snuggles even closer. My hard cock slips out of my shorts and between her naked legs; I press it against her panties and kiss her neck. She responds with a wiggle and a whimper, encouraging me to slip my hand under her top to caress her belly and breasts.

I can't tell if she asleep or awake, but she's responsive and I'm curious...and horny. I spend the next few minutes enjoying the feel of her body. As things proceed, she rolls onto her back, giving me better access to her too-thin but still luscious body. I unbutton her top, slip my hand under her panties and learn that she's well lubricated, which is a good sign.

Her eyes are closed, so I look carefully at her body, exposed for the first time since that night, and see the telltale marks: discolored spots on and around her breasts, and on her upper thighs, like that around her mouth when I first saw her in the hospital. I don't want to upset her relaxed state by commenting, so I gently caress her, nuzzle her breasts, and trace my fingers around her vagina, teasing her lips and entering just enough to graze her clitoris. She moans quietly and pushes her hips up, seeking more pressure.

We're reaching the point of no return; I haven't had her all year -- even if the year is only 12 days old -- and I want her! But the doctors said to wait a week for intercourse, to let her completely heal. I decide to do this for her immediate pleasure, and my longer-term pleasure. My seductive caresses become bolder as she becomes more engaged, making little cooing noise as I stroke and lightly suckle her sensitive breasts. My fingers delve more deeply into her wet vagina, seeking ways to increase her enjoyment.

Her upper body and face are covered in a light sheen of sweat; her head is lolling slowly from side to side, her stomach tensing as I tenderly manipulate her delicate clit. For someone injured as badly as she was, she is very receptive; I hope and believe her doctors' fears that she might be frigid after the assault and injury are unwarranted.

I press my advantage, inserting two fingers in her vagina and rubbing her nub with my thumb. She tenses at the invasion of her bruised and tender tunnel, but quickly relaxes as I proceed gradually and carefully. Within seconds, she is moving her hips up to entrap my fingers more deeply, and her little noises are becoming more animated.

The signs all say she is nearing orgasm; I want this to be an intimate experience, so my lips leave her breasts to my hand and I move up to capture her mouth in a loving, passionate kiss. She reciprocates eagerly, opening her mouth and dueling with my tongue. I pull on her nipple, her body arches off the bed and goes stiff, and I feel the spasms of her climax around my fingers.

It's not the best, loudest, or most profound orgasm she's had, but it signals that she is again a sexual being, lusty and seeking and receptive. Fears about her victimhood clouding her enjoyment of sex seem overstated now, as she relaxes and quickly drifts back to sleep; she's snuggled as close as possible to the guy she apparently still loves.

My hormones are raging, but I resolve to wait for release. I consider moving away from her, briefly review the litany of sins she's committed so recently, and decide that prophesying the future can wait; tonight I'm going to snuggle as close as possible to the love of my life, and go to sleep with a light heart for the first time in a while.

Katy sleeps well for a couple of hours, but then the demons return; she struggles and cries out until I hold her tightly and whisper of love and safety. When she calms down again we both go back to sleep.

Wednesday, January 13

My dream seems so real: I can feel her delicate fingers stroking my cock and cupping my balls, her mouth licking and sucking my cock, her golden hair falling on my skin. I sleepily reach down and capture her head with my hand, realizing it isn't a dream. I rub her head to urge her on. It feels so good I'm going to cum if she doesn't stop, and I mumble that out loud.

She renews her efforts, taking the head into her mouth, tonguing the slit, stroking the base: I come fully awake and realize my dream isn't. I immediately explode, ejecting surge after surge into her mouth as she swallows over and over. When I stop, she continues to suck and lick: I pull her up gently by her hair and kiss that amazing mouth with love and desire, which she returns in kind.

"Thank you," I whisper. "No, thank you. What you did for me last night was amazing! I feel so refreshed and relaxed, I just had to do it for you!" she replies. "Tim, you were so gentle with me last night. I've been afraid to let you see my bruises, so fearful of the horrible memories they would bring back to you and scared you'd be repulsed. The injuries, my humiliation at the way I was used.

"I've been so afraid I'd shrink from the touch of a man, even my husband. Last night you were kind, gentle, you knew just how to inflame me, and it was so obvious that you wanted to bring me pleasure and release rather than pain and humiliation, so I gave myself to the moment, and now I feel like a new woman!

"I love you so much it hurts, and I constantly ache inside when I think about the pain I caused you. I thought you hated me and would never want to touch me again, but now I know you love me as much as I love you. I'll do ANYTHING for you!" she added fiercely.

"Then get 100% well. We have a long life full of joy in front of us, and darling boys to raise. As us coaches like to say 'When times get tough the tough get going!'"

I grin at her, and she laughs gleefully "Pulling that one on me, are you? Okay, coach, I'll work harder and do better!"

"No, work smarter and try 100%. Win every battle every day, and you'll win the game!" I tease back.

She squeezes me hard and says "No wonder the kids love you, oh king of clichés; life lessons by adage. But I'm going to take them as seriously as your players do, and we're going to win!" We both laugh and arise; showers are necessary this morning, so I go first while she readies our guys.