Conquering the Darkness
Chapter 1: Abandoned
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, First, Oral Sex, Petting,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1: Abandoned - Martin meets Andrea when she's having a very rough day. But something about her draws him in immediately. Can he help the blind girl learn to master her life and hunt down those who made her miserable? This is a departure from my normal fare of incest or Star Trek stories. It's an attempt at writing a romance that isn't chock-full of gut-wrenching angst, but also not too sappy either.
He was tired, but travelling late this weekend was definitely preferable to sitting in a train full of drunk football fans for three hours. As his bad luck would have it, today the home town club had played FC Cologne and incidentally Cologne was where he was headed as well. Four hours of trying to avoid being accosted by drunk-out-of-their-mind hooligans was simply not his idea of fun, especially when you had to pay a 100 Euro fare for the privilege.
Those home games of Hannover 96 were a pain in the back side. As if the home fans weren't bad enough, the visiting teams always came with a whole army of 'supporters' who tried their utmost to reverse human evolution. Seriously, what was the point in travelling halfway across the country, just to miss half the game because you were already sodding drunk before kick-off? And even worse, whatever side lost, took their frustration out on people who didn't care about the bloody game in the first place. That's why he had waited until a few hours after the game to take the last Intercity Express to Cologne, hopefully undisturbed.
Dragging his trolley bag or 'Heel-Porsche', as they were colloquially named, along he made his way to the designated smoker's area. The state had done its utmost to criminalize smokers, despite making copious amounts of tobacco tax off them, so a small five-by-five meters area at the far end of the platform was the only place where one could smoke without getting nicked.
It was a point of many discussions with his parents. Granted, he wasn't exactly proud of having started smoking a year ago, hoping that it would 'make him cool' and stop the incessant bullying he was subjected to as the class brain. While it had sort of worked, the bullies, obviously happy that they had managed to corrupt the goody-two-shoes bookish nerd, had backed off, he had now his parents constantly on his case and he couldn't go a day without smoking at least a few fags. He needed to look into way to stop that habit.
He inhaled the smoke of his cigarette looking out over the city. Yes, there were many houses around, but at nine-thirty in the evening it was hard to believe that this place was home to half a million people. Except for a few stragglers the platform was practically empty. The sun had long started to set and the sky was a dark blue canvas with dark grey intermittent clouds painted on it. In the distance the beacon light of a plane flashed as the craft hurtled down the glide scope towards Langenhagen airport.
As he puffed another small cloud of smoke from his lungs he heard someone sobbing in the distance. First it was hard to make out from where it was coming, but soon he'd come to the conclusion that the sound originated from even further down the long platform and he already was well past the spot where the train would stop. Nobody in his right mind would go that far down the platform unless one of those ridiculously long triple traction trains was arriving and those didn't appear more than once or twice a year.
He flicked the half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray and went to investigate the sound. Since he was already close to the end of the platform he didn't have to walk very far until he saw a young girl sitting on the ground, her back leaning against a pillar that held the platform roof. She was about his age, with long blond hair.
Despite the fact that he was standing right in front of her, the girl didn't seem to recognize him. She wore a light summer dress that had become dirty from her sitting on the ground and even though her crying was distorting her face he could see that she was very beautiful. Her eyes were hidden behind ridiculous dark sunglasses, which appeared somewhat misplaced that late in the evening, but then he saw the yellow armband with the three black dots on it – the girl was blind.
He crouched down in front of her and spoke softly. "Don't be alarmed. I mean no harm."
She flinched despite his best efforts, but quickly composed herself. Her hands ventured forward in search of what was in front of her. He had no idea how to deal with a blind person. Following an impulse the young man gently grabbed her wrists and directed her hands to his face. He closed his eyes as her fingertips glided across his features.
She started to cry even harder.
"I thought nobody would help me," she lamented. "I've been here for hours and nobody came. Please, help me."
"Of course I'll help you," he said. "Can you stand?"
She nodded. He grabbed her hand and helped her stand up.
"There were people," she said, still sobbing. "They were loud and drunk. They kicked away my white cane, shoved me around and stole my luggage, my wallet. A few of them dragged me here. I don't know where I am, I didn't find the way back. I only lost my sight two years ... I didn't ... I couldn't ... and nobody was helping..."
Her sobs got harder and harder and for lack of better idea he gathered her in his arms. She hugged him back tightly and he gently rocked her as she cried. It felt good to hold her, but he shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. She was a girl in distress, he shouldn't think about his own feelings. For many minutes they stood in close embrace until she had composed herself, at least somewhat.
"How do I guide you?" he asked softly. "I'm afraid I've not got any experience with that."
"Can you give me your arm?"
He put his hand on his hip and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Like that?"
She smiled faintly. It felt a bit strange seeing that she was 'looking' past his face, but then, how should a blind person know where his face was exactly?
"What about you, don't you have any luggage?" she asked when they started walking.
"I'll leave that here," he snorted. "Either they'll think it's a bomb and blow it up, or if anyone's so stupid to steal it, he'll have to keep it as a punishment."
She laughed softly and his heart melted. It was the sweetest sound he'd heard in his life. They reached the middle of the platform.
"Attention, rolling stairs," he said. "three, two, one, now..."
She did a step forward and they started to travel downwards. Since he didn't know when to start the countdown for getting off safely, he just lifted her up and stepped off, eliciting a small giggle from her.
"You live here in Hannover?" he asked?
"Hemmingen, Berlin street. We moved here a year ago."
"Okay, I'm gonna take you home," he promised and she smiled again. It was a magnificent sight. Guiding her out onto the Ernst-August Square, he hailed a taxi and helped her get settled. Walking around, he got in on the other side and sat down next to her, letting the girl, her name was Andrea, tell the driver where to go exactly.
After a while, he noticed that her hand was searching for his and he sheepishly took it in his. She smiled, which was a beautiful sight, but he still needed to get used to the fact that she was facing somewhere else. With a seeing person one was used to be looked in the face, which she of course couldn't do.
It felt good to hold her hand. He wasn't exactly a basketball player, but even in comparison to his medium build, her hands appeared somewhat small and fragile. But they were soft, definitely soft, and very pleasant to hold.
In a way, he was almost disappointed when they arrived at her place, but seeing the relieved expression on her face, he felt guilty for having such thoughts. As he helped her out of the car, he saw the house with the number she'd told the taxi driver. There was no doubt that she didn't exactly come from a poor family, considering how big the thing was.
After paying the taxi driver he guided her to the front door and she handed him a key to open it. It felt somewhat weird, opening the house of someone he didn't know. They walked in and a large man came to meet them. Seeing Andrea and the dishevelled state she was in, his face took on an expression of alarm.
"Andrea?" he asked.
She didn't answer. Instead she started to cry and hugged tight against her rescuer, which made him self-conscious, because it happened right in front of whom he believed to be her father, if the facial resemblance was anything to go by.
"She was mugged, by FC Cologne hooligans," he explained to the older man. "I found her completely disoriented at the end of platform four on the railway station, and brought her back here."
Andrea's father sent him a grateful look and squeezed his shoulder, before gently prying his frightened daughter off him.
"Would you mind waiting in the kitchen," the older man asked. "I think it's best if I get Andrea ready for bed. She obviously didn't have the best of days."
Giving Andrea's hand a last squeeze he let go of her and walked off into the room her father had indicated to.
"I can't thank you enough, son" the older man across the table said, clearly emotional. "Andrea's been having a hard time and people are so insensitive these days. What's your name young man?"
"Martin, Martin Reichelt. I can't believe they did that to her."
"Where were you going Martin? You must have missed your train by now."
"Cologne. I'm attending high school there."
"High school so far from home? Special Classes?" the man asked and the younger man nodded. It was surprising to meet someone who knew the classes for the highly gifted in natural sciences that were run by Cologne university.
"So you're a little genius, hm? My brother went there too. He was so good at maths he'd have embarrassed Einstein."
"Frankly, you'd have embarrassed Einstein, sir," Martin said with a chuckle. "Old Albert wasn't very good at it, at least in school."
The older man smiled.
"Tell you what," he said. "The last train is gone, but at this time the Autobahn is empty. I'll give you a ride to Cologne. Andrea will stay here for the week. I want her to talk to a therapist after what happened to her, and we'll definitely need to report this to the police."
"It's a generous offer, Sir, but it will take you at least six hours there and back. Don't you need to work tomorrow?"
Andrea's father put his hand on his shoulder. "I'm my own boss, son, and I've just given myself the day off tomorrow."
They both chuckled.
"Can I say goodbye to her?" Martin asked and her father nodded.
"Her room is the last one to the right. Just don't wake her up if she's sleeping. You know how rough her day's been."
The young man nodded back and walked out into the corridor. The residence was quite big, certainly bigger than anything his family had ever lived in, but then his dad was just a taxi driver and no entrepreneur who could give himself a day off. Without the scholarship he could never have attended the school in Cologne and would be bored out of his skull in a regular high school.
He gently opened the door to her room and noticed that it looked like any other teenager's room, except that all furniture had rounded edges and corners. But his attention was drawn to her when he heard her sob into her pillow. It wasn't as heart-breaking as her crying when he'd found her at the train station, but it still made his heart ache with compassion. He had never been able to ignore a crying girl, but the sting into his heart was even worse when Andrea cried. How could a girl he'd only met two hours ago occupy so much of his thoughts?
He carefully sat down on the edge of her bed.
"Hey, no need to cry, you're safe now," he said softly, trying not to startle her in case she hadn't heard him come in.
She shot up. Her hand hit his face as she was frantically searching for him. The young man ignored the pain in his nose and gently gathered her in his arms.
"Oh god, I had thought you'd gone without saying goodbye," her crying got harder as he held her. He gently rubbed her back to soothe her. He felt a bit unconscious as he could feel the warmth of her body through the sheer nightgown she was wearing. It wasn't particularly opaque either, but he forced himself to ignore that.
"I would never go without saying good bye. Your dad offered me a drink in the kitchen. Sorry, I should have let you know."
He needed all his strength not to tear up himself. Her weeping was heart wrenching. He wasn't very experienced with girls, in fact he had absolutely no clue about them, but he'd always thought that for girls as beautiful as the one in his arms everything was just peachy and they'd always get what they want. Well Andrea certainly had a much harder life than others.
"Will you be okay for the night?" he asked after a while. "Your dad has offered me a ride to Cologne."
She nodded, her head still resting against his chest. He took a deep breath and asked the question he'd been pondering for a while.
"Um, C-can I pick you up next Sunday? We could go to Cologne together. He told me you go to Louis Braille School. It's not too far from mine."
"That would be so great," she mumbled into his chest and he felt her hug tighten a bit. But he had to go and he gently pushed her down and tucked her in. He caressed her cheek and she leaned her head into his touch.
"I'll call you," he whispered and stood to go before the emotions would get to him.
He wiped away a tear as he closed a door with a final good night wish.
"Good night, Andrea."
His thoughts were still with the young girl as the car sped past Porta Westfalica. It was a brand new Volkswagen Phaeton, the one with the monstrous W12 engine, testament to the fact that Andrea's father was not only an entrepreneur, but apparently a rather successful one as well. It still had that typical new car smell to it and the luxurious interior marked it out as one of the top-end models. It was not so much a car ride as more like being carried in a very luxurious sedan chair.
His luggage thankfully had not been blown up, but they had had to fetch it from the federal police office where it had been screened and searched. Well, all they found was a lot of clothing that had gone out of style several years ago. The officer had almost slapped him with a fine until the man in the driver's seat had told them why he had abandoned it. That had changed the cop's attitude in an instance and he had immediately taken the young man's statement on the matter as the girl's father reported the crime officially. They'd promised to send an officer round the next day to take Andrea's statement.
"Sir, may I ask what happened to Andrea? She said something about losing her sight only two years ago."
The expression of the older man's face darkened and Martin was wondering if he had asked the wrong question.
"I've not always driven such a large car," the man said pulling slightly at the steering wheel for emphasis. "But now I do, because they are safer. Andrea and her mother had an accident in her mother's little runabout two years ago. She was fifteen then. A large Ford hit them frontally. My wife was dead immediately and Andrea had life-threatening head injuries, despite the fact that both wore their seat belts. Andrea was in a coma for three weeks, and after waking up she had to remain in hospital for another nine months, but no matter what the doctors tried and still try, she'll almost certainly remain blind."
An awkward silent fell between them for a few minutes.
"I'm very sorry to hear that, sir, especially about your wife."
The older man just nodded and looked straight ahead at the road. Suddenly he surprised him with a question of his own.
"You like Andrea, don't you?"