Melissa Campbell looked thoughtful as she replaced the phone on its cradle. It was the hospital calling with the news. Forty eight hours her husband, Derek, had been lying comatose in intensive care after the car crash, but it looked like he was going to pull through. The doctor wanted to see her as soon as possible for a "little chat" as he put it.
A couple of hours later, Melissa was sitting in Dr Marlow's office. It was her first visit ... there'd been no point coming while Derek was unconscious.
"Oh god, paralysed from the neck down ... poor Derek!" exclaimed Melissa, a shocked look on her lovely face at the news.
"I'm sorry Mrs Campbell, but there is one..."
"Please call me Melissa," she managed a smile. "Mrs Campbell makes me sound so old."
"I'm sorry Melissa," smiled Dr Marlow, "but there is one piece of good news."
"What's that, Doctor?"
The doctor looked at Melissa Campbell, debating how to approach what was quite a delicate matter. She was a real looker, this one, he thought ... gorgeous, actually ... and what, mid twenties maybe? Christ, must be a good twenty years younger than that poor husband of hers.
He found his eyes straying a little. There was nothing slutty about the yellow sundress she was wearing but it was clingy and quite low cut, showing some cleavage, and it was rather short too. A dress which emphasised, rather than played down, the lush female sexiness of her body.
He mentally slapped himself, dragged his gaze back to where it was meant to be. Unprofessional, he chided himself. Come on.
If the doctor was worried his furtive ogling would offend the sexy young woman sat opposite, he was fretting needlessly. Melissa knew he was admiring her and she didn't mind one bit. She was used to this from men and she enjoyed it. She'd been sitting demurely since they'd started talking but now, seeing the effect she was having on him, she made a point of leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. She did it slowly, sexily, allowed the hem of her dress to slide a fair way up her legs. She smiled to herself as Dr Marlow struggled manfully not to stare at her exposed thighs. Not that she fancied him in any way, he was a rather ordinary looking man in his fifties, but it was fun to tease!
"You were saying, Doctor?" she smiled, "A piece of good news?"
The poor man seemed to have lost his thread!
"Ah yes, that's right." With an effort, he pulled himself together. Fabulous legs! "So, what is it?" she prompted.
"Well ... er ... the thing is..."
"C'mon Doc, tell me. I'm a big girl now," and she leaned forward towards him, signifying her keen interest in whatever it was he had to say. The movement had the effect of providing the good doctor with a mouth watering view of her delicious breasts. The way they were nestling inside the tiny white lace bra, he found that he could see quite a lot ... a hint of nipple even! ... and somehow, it was way more tantalising than if she weren't wearing a bra at all.
He forced himself to maintain eye contact.
Which was disconcerting in itself since she had the most gorgeous, liquid brown eyes. Matched her hair in colour, he noticed ... beautiful hair, luxuriant, wavy but not curled. Flawless skin too ... silky smooth looking, lightly tanned. Oh god and her mouth, those full sensuous lips! ... just the right amount of red lipstick.
"Yes, so the thing is ... although, like I said, your husband is paralysed from the neck down..."
"So all he can do is move his head around, right?" prodded Melissa, a little impatient.
She leaned back again, her tits no longer flaunted in front of the doctor, and that made it slightly easier for him. Then she uncrossed her legs, slowly crossed them back the other way, dress sliding up a little more, and that didn't make things at all easier. Neither did the fact she'd fixed him with a calm and level gaze which seemed to indicate she knew exactly what was going on in his head. That wasn't true obviously, she was just concerned for the well being of her poor husband, but it was nevertheless disconcerting.
"Yes, that's what we usually find in cases such as these," he continued, "but with your husband..."
"What, he can't even do that?"
Oh god, she was dangling one of her shoes on the end of her toes now ... her pretty, red painted toes ... the woman didn't realise what she was doing to him! The doctor had quite a hard-on now and, what was worse, he could have sworn that Melissa was looking down at his crutch, every now and again, and had spotted the tell tale bulge.
Guess not though because she didn't seem offended in any way. She was smiling actually.
"No listen, it's good news remember?" he said, desperately focusing on what he needed to tell her ... was his professional duty to tell her.
"So yes, he CAN do that," continued Dr Marlow, "and he can do something else too ... he can still use a part of his body that's ... um ... quite a way below his neck, if you know what I mean?"
"Not sure I do know what you mean Doctor, no," said Melissa, curious.
The doctor knew he had to stop beating about the bush. "His manhood, Melissa, ... it's unaffected. Very unusual but does happen sometimes."
"He can take a pee, you mean?" asked Melissa.
"Well yes ... with a little help, obviously," said Doctor Marlow. "But what you might be more interested in is it means he can still be a husband to you in certain ... er ... important respects."
"Oh wow! You mean he still gets turned on, gets erections and stuff when he feels horny!" Melissa was laughing in delight. "Oh Doctor Marlow, that's wonderful news!"
Dr Marlow looked at the pleasure etched across Melissa's achingly pretty face, as she realised she could still share sexual pleasure with her crippled husband, and for a moment or two he rather wished he could trade places with Derek Campbell, car crash or no car crash.
"It is, isn't it?" he smiled.
"And he can come home soon?" asked Melissa.
"That's not such good news, I'm afraid," said Dr Marlow.
"You see, Mrs Campbell..."
"Melissa, sorry," he smiled apologetically, "Look, Derek is almost completely paralysed ... the only thing he can move is his head, and so..."
"And his dick," she interrupted, grinning at him.
"Indeed, that too," he felt like grinning along with her but managed to restrain himself. "But nevertheless, he's going to require round the clock care, so I recommend that he stays here for the foreseeable future."
"Okay, guess that's best," said Melissa, agreeing more readily than Dr Marlow thought she might. He'd been braced for an argument, expected her to maybe insist on looking after him herself, but thankfully it looked like, despite her young years, she was mature enough to accept the inevitable.
"But can't he come home occasionally?" she asked now.
Dr Marlow was expecting the question and was glad she'd asked it. "Yes, of course," he smiled, pleased to be back in good news mode. "He can visit once a week, a couple of hours every Saturday, I've signed it off."
"What, somebody will deliver him to me?"
"Absolutely, Mrs Campbell..."
"Melissa. Yes, a member of our staff will bring him to you on Saturday afternoons at two o'clock, and he'll be all yours until, say, five? How does that sound?"
"He'll be all mine?" Melissa smiled.
"Yes, of course. And we'll make sure he's been ... um ... toileted and that sort of thing, so all you need to worry about is..."
"Other things?" she said, looking knowingly at the doctor.
"Exactly!" he said, congratulating himself on how this had gone. The woman had obviously cottoned on to what these home visits were meant to entail ... although not just that of course, they could talk too! ... and the doctor was mightily relieved because, in his recent chats with Derek, the poor man had made it pretty clear that the thought of still being able to have sex, of sorts, with his gorgeous young wife was the only thing staving off feelings of utter despair.
"So, let me see if I've got this straight, Doc," said Melissa. "Poor Derek is completely paralysed from the neck down and he'll be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of life, only able to move his head ... but his dick still works and he's going to feel horny every time he looks at me?"
"He's going to get a hard-on, just like before, but he'll need my help to do anything about it. Otherwise, he'll be stuck with a hard-on and he'll be completely unable to ... um ... relieve himself?"
"You got it."
There was something very sexy about the way Melissa was giggling now. The doctor could tell how much she was looking forward already to these Saturday afternoon home visits and he experienced another unworthy stab of jealousy towards Derek Campbell.
"And, in the right ... er ... position, you should even be able to make love to him in the normal way. Children perhaps, who knows?" said Dr Marlow, smiling encouragingly.
"I see," she nodded, bringing the giggling back under some sort of control, "that will be nice for him, won't it? ... sounds like I'd better fix up the downstairs bedroom!"
The doctor couldn't help but be impressed with her immediate grasp of the practical issues around sex and paralysed husbands.
"And when can we start all this?" she asked.
"No reason why we can't say this Saturday coming," he smiled. "So tomorrow, I make that."
"Fabulous!" she exclaimed. "I'll be expecting him."
Melissa got up to go. "Thank you so much Doctor," she grinned. "I'll see myself out."
.... There is more of this story ...