Swerve

"You didn't seem to mind my focus on the end result a minute ago," I joked.

"Admitted," her lips pressed together for a moment, her eyes shining, "That was--" her eyes narrowed slightly, "Shut up. I don't want you to think about finishing, okay?" Her tone was still instructing, but I'd be damned if there wasn't also a slightly pleading quality to it, "I want you to lay back, relax, laugh when you feel like laughing and--" she raised her eyebrows half an inch, "let me have fun."

"I--" I opened my mouth, and then closed it. Slowly, I nodded, "Okay."

"God it's hot when men learn how to listen," her grin matched mine, "Almost as hot as this."

Lowering her face, she gently took my thumb between her lips. Easing my shoulders back on the pillows, I looked down and watched her. Raking her hair back with her fingers, she closed her mouth around my stuck-up thumb. Her head began to bob, and I felt my thumb pulled into her mouth and then move back out. Maybe it was because the act was being performed on a different part of my body, but I suddenly realized just how much I'd missed of what actually happens during a blowjob. I could feel her tongue sliding around my knuckle, her cheeks pulling in slightly each time she drew my thumb fully into her mouth. Changing the angle of her head slightly, she looked up at me once more from the top of her eyes. They weren't quite pleading; they were wide and brown, suggestive and submissive and somehow in control all at once. In all my life, I'd never seen anything sexier.

Adjusting her body so that it was laying parallel to my own over the bed, very much for my view, she let one leg lay against the sheets and raised the other. I watched as her hand went down, between her legs. Her middle and ring finger began making a slow, continuous pattern against her pussy. Around my thumb, she let out a throaty moan. That earlier comment about the sexiest thing I'd ever seen? Forget that. After a moment, Rachel pushed her fingers inside of herself. She went lower down over my thumb than she'd been going, as she did it. I could feel the tip of my thumb touching the back of her mouth; she was no longer moving up and down, only pulsing her mouth and moving her tongue. Then I felt her throat open around my thumb, and she went deeper still. She let out a slightly choked sound.

Holy. Fuck. I couldn't possibly imagine that she enjoyed doing this, but something about the movement of her down-turned head, and the movement of her fingers between her legs came awfully close to convincing me. Whatever this was, it was working for me. I'll admit, it was entirely different from a blowjob. The action was the same. The sensation was... something else. It wasn't an imitation; it could have been, but not the way that Rachel was doing it. It was something else entirely. I felt my breathing deepen, my heartbeat racing in my chest. Her fingers were moving faster now. I watched her lower leg stretch out, tangle slightly in the sheets, and then bend toward her body again. Against my hand, her own breathing is coming faster. Pulling back, she began moving up and down once more; the movement of her head and neck perfectly synchronized with that of her hand. Each time she leaned down toward my fingers, her own went inside of her. After a minute, I saw her hips start moving in time with them as well. Both of our breathing has become erratic.

The movement of her head lessens, ever so slightly. The hand between her legs was thrusting almost frantically now. Turning her head up, she looked straight into my eyes. I could see the almost desperate arousal in them. Her voice, when it came, was slightly stifled around my thumb.

"I'm going--Oh!" she exhaled hard, "I'm going to cum. Say my name. Oh! Please Mateo, say my name."

My heart was a hammer in my chest, "Rachel," I breathed out. She moaned quietly around my thumb, "Oh God, Rachel. You're the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Mateo," she moaned, her voice still dampened as she pushed my thumb back into her mouth, "Oh, God!"

I could tell the moment she was about to come, because her mouth clamped down around my raised digit. My breathing faltered slightly as I watched her body constrict in on itself, her raised leg propelled down so that her hand was trapped tightly between her thighs. She was still fingering herself, I could see. Around my thumb, I felt the wet vibration of her closed mouth as she let out the same near-whimper I'd brought from her only a handful of minutes earlier. Whatever it was--whether it was seeing her come like this; openly, in front of me; whether it was the feeling of her mouth around my thumb; whether it was both of them or something else entirely--something happened. Something clicked.

It wasn't quite an orgasm. At least, not the way I'd ever felt one before. It was more like a shock of electricity that ran down from the top of my spine down into my hips, disappearing as it raced down my spine. My heart was still beating fast, but my body felt suddenly light. I could still feel Rachel's now open mouth, moving slowly up and down my thumb. The flat of her tongue trailed a second behind her lips, running up it's length. Her hand fell from between her legs, into the sheets. Slowly, she raised her head and gave me a satisfied, slightly tired smile. I felt my breathing struggling to return to normal as I stared down at her, one hand laying flat on my chest, the other one, the one which she'd held a moment earlier, rested against my hip.

"Oh," I said--slightly breathlessly.

She laughed. I could tell that it was a spent laugh, but she seemed pleased. Crawling over the sheets, she drew herself up beside me. Her lips brushed against my neck and the bottom of my jaw. Turning my face down, I kissed her. The kiss lasted for some time. After what felt both like eternity and the blink of an eye, I felt her pull back slightly. She nestled herself down into the sheets, smiling against my bare shoulder.

"So," opening her eyes, she raised them to my own, "How... was that?"

"Well," I laughed, "Without focusing on the end result?" She smiled, "Incredible. Focusing on the end result? More incredible." I turned my face over so that I was staring at her. Without thinking, I placed a quick kiss on the end of her nose. She scrunched her eyes up for a moment, and then opened them again--they shone happily.

"Two degrees, huh?" I ask.

"Two," she holds up her fingers, the ones which had been inside her a moment earlier, and winks, "And by the way, this doesn't count as your physical therapy for the day."

"Oh yeah?" I raise my eyebrows, "How about this?"

In a single, admittedly not entirely smooth motion, I push myself up on the bed over top of her. Reaching down, I wrap one arm around the young woman's body and pull her against me as I roll over the bed. I can hear her squeal against my chest as I squeeze her to it; high, and happy.

Sunday, March 25th, 2019.

The wheel of my wheelchair squeak slightly as I roll my way up the disability access ramp of Howard County General Hospital. The entranceway is mostly beige tile, while the waiting area is covered by a circle-patterned grey-green carpet. A couple of sofas in a similar pattern have been arranged in rows, with wooden chairs standing beside them. Rolling across the laminated floor, I approach the front desk. There's two women working behind it; a woman with curly blonde hair whose about thirty-five, doing filing, and a woman with black hair pulled back from a round face who looks about two decades older. It's the dark-haired woman who greets me.

"Hello love, what can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for the physical therapy wing?" I ask.

"Oh, here for an appointment?" She pulls a book from a stack that I can't see, over the edge of the counter, "What the name?"

"Actually," I grin, "I'm here for the physical therapist."

"Yes, I--" she pauses for a moment, and I see her eyes widen slightly, "Oh. Oh! You must be Mateo, then." She sounds delighted.

"I am," I reach up and shake the woman's hand.

Releasing it, she picks up an intercom behind the desk. I hear the speakers crackling slightly as she speaks into it.

"Paging Doctor Mayeliks to the front desk. Doctor Mayeliks to the front desk, please." She placed the intercom down on the table and smiled at me, "She should be--"

"Mateo!" A familiar voice called across the entranceway. I turned slightly over my shoulder--and there she was.

Rachel walked out of the hallway that connected the foyer to the rest of the hospital. A white coat was fastened over a baby-blue blouse, which I could see peeking up around the bottom of her neck. She was as beautiful, eight years later, as the day I first set eyes on her. Her brown hair is held back from her face in a loose ponytail, which bobs as she walks. I can see the way her white coat bends in, hugging her waist. Even a pair of straight black pants can't kind the length of the legs beneath them. Her shoes click quietly on the laminated floor as she makes her way over to me. As she sees me, her brown eyes seem to gather all of the light from the room. I turn my wheelchair, raising my face as she leans down. Yep--still takes me breath away. Our lips touch; and, admittedly, the kiss is a bit hot for the entranceway of a hospital. Especially one that my wife's only started working at.

Oh yeah--my wife.

"I thought we were meeting Michael at The Food Market?"

"I figured I'd roll by and surprise you," I answer, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

I watch as she glances over her shoulder. Then, stepping slightly to the side so that her back it to the secretaries, she pops a thumb into her mouth and draws her tongue over it. Leaning down, she winks as she rubs an invisible spot off my chin.

"I suppose I can make room in my afternoon," she grins.

"Oh you can, can you?" I return the grin, then glance at the two women behind the reception desk, "Sorry ladies."

Reaching out, I grab Rachel's hand and pull her downward. Her legs fall over the side of the wheelchair, so that she's seated firmly on my lap. I feel her arms go around my neck, and I place a kiss on her mouth. After a moment, we separate. She makes no move to rise, sitting sideways on the chair over top of me. She's laughing silently, staring into my eyes; almost as if the two women behind the desk have ceased to exist. Wrapping my hands around the top of the wheels, I give her a nod. Then I wheel us both out, as one, through the hospital doors and into the afternoon sunlight.

Swerve ---- THE END.