Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa,
Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Again my thanks to mostera1 for his friendship and help. He saved their lives, but was he sent by an angel or the devil?
A light, misty rain hung in the air as Carl drove his Lincoln along the slick country roads wondering which was colder, the near freezing temperature outside the car, or the freeze he was getting from his wife inside the car.
"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" she asked, finally breaking the tense silence. "You're going a little fast for this kind of weather aren't you?"
"I'm fine;" replied Carl, "I've had only three beers all night. I'm not drunk, just a little pissed,"
"You have no reason to be pissed, we were just dancing, that's all; you had no call to confront him like that, it was embarrassing. I doubt very much if Mary ever invites us to another party; not if you're going to go around threatening to beat up her cousin all the time."
"I didn't threaten to beat him up; I simply told him he would have to prove himself a better man than me if he wanted to continue putting his hands all over you like that. Look, honey, the man was constantly trying to cop a feel, he had his hands all over your ass for crying out loud; I'm still trying to figure out why you let him do that. You said I embarrassed you; how the hell do you think I felt, when in front of most of our friends, you let that asshole put his paws anywhere he wanted? You don't think I was embarrassed? Hell, I had to do something, my pride was at stake; yours too, even if you didn't realize it."
Bev turned her head and watched the tall pine trees pass by the passenger side window. Quietly she thought about what her husband just said and gave a small conciliatory sigh. Thinking back to the man's actions she knew her husband was right; she really did regret the embarrassing situation she had placed him in. Her eyes lifted upward to gaze at the large, yellow moon glimmering through the murky haze; its face seemed to be scolding her as well as it followed along.
"I'm sorry," she said in a soft, apologetic voice, "I guess he was getting a little fresh; you had every right to do what you did; but you know me, once I get on the dance floor, I just like to have fun. I wasn't even thinking about where his hands were; he was a good dancer and I was concentrating on our moves."
"I know, honey; unfortunately, he was concentrating on putting some moves on you; I watched for a little while, thinking you would put him in his place, but when you didn't I had to step in, that's all there was to it."
"I know; I really am sorry, I should have been more aware of what he was trying to do," she said again with a small sigh. "I really screwed up, didn't I; and right in front of our friends too, I really do apologize, honey; forgive me?"
Carl knew his wife very well and knew she was telling the truth; she wasn't flirting or being promiscuous; she wasn't even paying attention to the asshole, only to his dancing skills; "Of course, honey," he replied.
"When we get home I'll make it up to you," she said reaching over and laying her hand on his thigh.
"Now you're talking," he said. Just then the inside of their car was suddenly illuminated by a pair of headlights from behind. "Damn, you think I'm going fast, this car behind us..."
"CARL, LOOK OUT," screamed Bev. Carl's eyes were diverted from the rear view mirror to the on-coming panel truck skating sideways into his lane. There was no time to think or maneuver around the vehicle, all he could do was react; Carl hit the brakes and swerved toward the white, wooden guard rail that separated the edge of the road from the steep embankment that lay beyond.
The powerful automobile lost traction on the slick pavement and slid head on, smashing into the protective barrier and angrily sending tiny scraps of lumber exploding out in every direction; the impact hurled them both forward, straining against their seatbelts. With the sound of a large caliber gun shot, the airbags detonated with such forced that the blast stunned them both and prevented even the slightest chance of Carl maneuvering the heavy vehicle back onto the road.
They felt the car's rear-end spin sideways then start to tip over; among the sounds of crunching metal and shattering glass, the last thing Carl heard was the terrified scream of his wife as the car rolled down the ridge.
Barry Westchester veered his classic Jaguar to the shoulder of the road, narrowly avoiding the truck just as its driver regained control and steered back into his own lane as he passed.
The expensive sports car came to a stop at the hole in the fence where its young driver had seen the headlights disappear from in front of him. As he ran to the edge and looked down he saw the overturned vehicle precariously perched on a small ledge that kept it from tumbling the rest of the way down the steep embankment.
"ARE YOU OKAY DOWN THERE?" he yelled, but got no response. Barry turned to retrieve the phone from his car but stopped in his tracks when he heard the scraping of metal as the wreck slip a little further down the hill. He looked again for any sign of movement. Shit, he thought, it sounds like that damn car is getting ready to go over the cliff; if they're still alive they won't be after that; I don't have time to wait for nine-one-one, I've got to get them out of there now.
Barry could feel his pulse racing as he anticipated climbing down the treacherous slope. He could see his breath as he exhaled with a heavy sigh to gather his nerve. Carefully Barry started his descent. He bent over and tried using his hands for support but slipped with his first step on the icy hill and was sent hurtling down the incline. His painful cry broke through the cold night air as his fall ended abruptly with his knee smashing into the side of the twisted wreckage.
He grabbed his leg with both hands and rolled on the frozen ground, his face twisted in agony. "Damn!" he cursed out loud; he lay there a minute knowing he had to overcome the pain; on top of that the smell of leaking gas warned him of a new urgency. He forced his attention back to the couple imprisoned within the crumpled mass of steel.
Every window was busted and there was broken glass everywhere. Carefully he inched himself to the passenger side window and found Bev's unconscious body suspended from her seatbelt. She was scraped up but appeared to be breathing. He reached in and felt her neck looking for a pulse; thank God she's still alive, he thought; he looked across and saw another person, a man in the driver's seat also unconscious. Assuming they were husband and wife he scoured the rest of the car as well as the immediate area, not knowing if any children had been in the back seat. After a hectic search he concluded the two in the front were the only inhabitants; now all he had to do was get them both out.
The way the roof was smashed it was impossible to get them through the side; his pulse quickened even more; he knew the only way to get them free was for him to crawl in through the broken windshield, which of course, would be putting his own life in grave danger.
In spite of the cold he could feel his palms sweat, his heart was pounding in his chest; he was scared to death, but had no other choice; he knew he'd never be able to live with himself if he let them die. Barry took a couple of deep breaths and carefully scooted through the broken glass and prickly pine needles to the front of the wreck.
Briefly he froze in fear as he felt the wreckage rock unsteadily from his actions. The brave young man lay on his back, reached up and grabbed the sharp edge above him; he pulled with both hands while using his good leg to push at the same time. He could feel the jagged metal shredding his thin jacket and cutting into his back as he forced himself through the opening.
Finally able to reach the female victim, he used one hand to support her then released the buckle of her seatbelt with the other. Still bracing her body to keep her from being cut as much as possible, Barry carefully maneuvered her from the vehicle. With his knee unable to bear much weight, he grabbed her under the arms, and languished through his pain, limping backwards as he pulled her clear of danger.
Once she was safe he left her lying on the ground to go back for the man.
"Hey, what's going on down there?" he heard someone holler from the road above.
"There's been an accident," he yelled back, "Help me, there's a guy still trapped in a car down here and it's just about ready to fall the rest of the way down the ravine."
"I'll call for the ambulance," was the man's only response.
Undaunted and with no regard for his own safety, he returned for the driver. Determining he was also still alive, Barry again, lay down among the jagged edges of broken glass and used the same technique in getting to the man as he did the woman; but the man was bigger and heavier; now the smell of gasoline became more pronounced and the terrifying thought of fire cross his mind. Desperately he struggled to untangle the man from behind the steering wheel. He worked fanatically as he felt the steel coffin around him shift and start to slide closer to the edge of the sheer drop-off.
Barry was so close to getting the man free; he couldn't stop now. With stubborn determination he used all his might to push the broken steering wheel out of his way.
Once again, with a terrible creaking noise, he felt the car starting to slip and knew this time it was going down. Holding on to the man as tightly as he could with one hand, Barry fought the excruciating pain in his leg and hurriedly crawled from the shifting wreckage, but the wounded driver got caught in his seatbelt and was still inside.
The thought of his own death brought tears to his eyes but Barry refused to let go as the battered wreckage continued skidding downward, pulling him with it.
A large tree root growing out of the ground provided his last hope. He grabbed for it with his free hand, then with his last ounce of strength, yanked Carl from the jaws of death just as the doomed vehicle slid from the ledge and crashed end over end, bursting into flames as it finally hit bottom.
Operating on pure adrenaline, Barry pulled the man further up the hill to safety and laid him next to his wife.
"The ambulance is on its way," declared the man from the road above, "Is everyone alright down there?"
Barry was in shock and too exhausted to answer; he was just thankful to be alive. His breathing was labored and the pain in his leg was throbbing. There was no way he could climb back up that hill so he lay down himself and decided to just wait for help.
Carl thought he heard voices but they sounded so far away. What's that smell, it's so strong, he thought and why is he having trouble breathing..."what the hell is going on," he said aloud without realizing it.
"Doctor, he's coming to."
Doctor; where was he? Why did he need a doctor? he wondered
"Mr. Stapleton, can you hear me?" someone asked him.
"Yes, I can hear you," Carl replied. "What happened; why am I here?"
"Mr. Stapleton, you've been in an accident," the doctor told him. "Do you remember..."
"Bev," he suddenly yelled while trying to sit up, "My wife; is she okay?"
"Hey, hey, take it easy," he heard the nurse say as she held her hand against his shoulder preventing his from sitting up, "Yes, Mr. Stapleton, "Your wife is going to be fine, she's just a couple rooms down the hall. She's been asking for you."
"Are you sure?" he anxiously asked as his memory of the crash came rushing back to him. "I heard her scream; we were going over a cliff and I heard her scream as we were going over, are you sure she's okay?" he looked at the doctor with terror in his eyes.
"Yes, Mr. Stapleton, honest, she's going to be fine. She's been very worried about you; she'll be glad to hear you're awake. Look, you've both been through a terrible trauma," said the doctor, "You have two broken ribs and your left ankle is broken in addition to multiple contusions and lacerations; with that cast on your ankle you'll be on crutches for about six weeks; after that you'll need physical therapy for another four or five weeks; your wife came out a little better, she suffered a dislocated shoulder and she's pretty scraped up, but you were both very, very lucky. The two of you will be up and around in no time."
Carl began to relax a little as he laid his head back down on the pillow.
"There's a state trooper in there with your wife right now; as soon as he's done we'll get her in here for you."
"I hear he's awake, would it be okay to ask him some questions, doctor?" Carl heard someone ask from the doorway.
"Yeah, I think so; would you be able to answer some questions for the police, Mr. Stapleton?" the doctor asked. Carl nodded his head slightly.
"Mr. Stapleton, I'm Lieutenant Richardson with the Illinois State Police, I'm investigating the accident you had. We have a witness who says a panel truck lost control and slid into your lane of traffic; he said you had no choice but to swerve into the guardrail; is that the way you remember, Sir?"
"Yeah," Carl said with a small groan; he was just then starting to feel discomfort from his broken ribs.
"I can see you're in pain, Mr. Stapleton, I'll try to keep this as brief as possible. Do you remember what the truck looked like; Color, make, any markings on the side, anything you remember that might help us locate it?"
"Ah, well it was green and there was something about fruit on the side but I didn't really get a good look at it; I have no idea what make, I was too busy trying to get out of its way."
"Of course; that was pretty much what the other witness said as well, he was almost forced off the road too."
"My wife; they said she's okay, is that true? They said you talked to her?"
"Oh yeah, her right shoulder was dislocated; they put it back but she'll have to wear her arm in a sling for a while; outside of that she has a few cuts and bruises here and there, mostly on her legs, but, nothing too serious, she'll be fine. You're both lucky to be alive. If it wasn't for the young man who saw the accident and went down there to save you guys, you'd both be dead."
"Young man; I don't remember anything after rolling down the hill, what young man?"
The Lieutenant checked his notes, "Name was Barry Westchester, only twenty-two years old; he was right behind you when it happened. He pulled you both out of the wreck just before it went the rest of the way down the ravine and burst into flames."
"My God, you weren't kidding were you; he really did save our lives."
"Oh yeah, no doubt about it, Mr. Stapleton, he was in here for a while himself; he banged up his knee pretty bad while getting you guys out of the car; he'll be on crutches for a while but he'll live. There was another guy watching from the road; he says the kid was absolutely fearless; 'the most amazing thing I've ever seen, ' were his exact words. Mr. Westchester actually crawled into the wreckage and pulled you out while the car was sliding down the hill; fricken kid's got to have balls of steel to do something like that; a real hero."
"Geez, Lieutenant, is he from around here; I'd like to find some way to thank him?" Carl asked just as the nurse wheeled Bev into the room in a wheelchair.
"CARL!," she cried out when she saw him, "Honey, my God you're okay," she said standing up on wobbly legs as the nurse brought her up to the side of his bed.
"Oh, honey," he said trying to sit up so he could kiss his wife.
"Mr. Stapleton," the nurse said sternly, "You lay back down there or I'll take her right back out of here."
"Damn, nurse, at least let me kiss her," he said. Bev leaned over the guardrail, Carl put his arm around her being carful of her shoulder and they kissed.
It was heartwarming for both the nurse and the state trooper to see how devoted the two were to each other. After breaking the kiss Bev gently put her head on Carl's chest, put her left arm around him and quietly cried. Carl lightly stroked her hair.
"Easy, babe," he softly told her, "it's over, honey; it's all over and we're both going to be fine."
She nodded her head slightly and tried to regain control of her emotions. "I know, honey; I was just so scared, God, I was so frightened that I'd lost you," she said between sobs.
"I know, baby; I was the same way. I don't know what I'd do without you, honey; but it's okay now, everything is going to be fine ... thanks to a very brave man who saw the accident; did you hear what he did, honey; some young guy saved our lives ... what was his name again?" he asked the trooper still standing next to the bed.
"Westchester," the trooper replied, "Barry Westchester. You'll be able to get a copy of the police report in a couple of days; it'll all be in there," he said with a smile. "Well, I guess I'll leave you two alone; if either of you think of anything else, please give me call at this number," he said handing Carl a business card, "We really would like to catch the guy that was driving that truck; he almost killed you two, and he damn near forced that kid off the road as well," he told them before leaving.
"Okay, you two; If you both promise to be good I'll leave you alone for a little while," said the nurse with a smile. "Just remember those ribs, Mr. Stapleton; they're going to be very tender for a while, so please try to move around as little as possible for now."
"I promise," he said still stroking his wife's hair. After the nurse left the room, Carl and Bev just stayed like they were without saying a word for several minutes; just enjoying the fact that they still had one another.
Finally, between the awkward position she was standing in and the pressure it was putting on her shoulder, Bev had to sit back down in the wheelchair. Carl squeezed his hand between the side rail of the bed so they could hold hands.
"I think we're going to need a new car," Carl said jokingly.
Bev chuckled, "Okay, just as long as I don't need a new husband," she replied.
"You know, I can't stop thinking about that guy who saved our lives; I've never had my life saved before, it's a weird feeling to know you owe your life to someone," Carl said.
"Yeah, honey, I know what you mean; how do you repay someone for saving your life; what could you possibly do in return?"
"Exactly, babe; it's just strange because you know, short of saving his life, there's no way to square things with him."
Bev sat and thought for a moment; "Well, the lieutenant said he was young, maybe we can do something to help change his life for the better; you know ... like pay for him to go to college and get an education, or somehow get him started in a career that he'd like ... something like that."
"Yeah, maybe; we have time to think about it, we have to get well ourselves before we can do anything."
"Maybe not, honey; that cop said he injured his knee; why don't we see if he has any medical bills; we could start saying thanks by paying them."
"Honey, that's a great idea; when that nurse comes back we'll have her check; whatever his bills are we'll pay them. Honey," he said with a smile, "you're an absolute genius, you know that?"
Carl and Bev were disappointed when the nurse reported back to them saying the bill for Mr. Westchester had already been paid in full. They were both release later that day.
It was dark by the time the cab pulled into their driveway; even in the dark with all the lights off the house never looked so good to either of them. Carl was so thankful to be home, that after paying the driver, he gave him a twenty-dollar tip.
"Thank you, sir;" the cabby said expressing his appreciation with enthusiasm. "If you need a ride in the future, my name is Jose, you can ask for me by name."
"Okay, Jose," replied Carl with a small chuckle, "I'll be sure and do that."
"Do you need any help, honey?" offered Bev.
"No, babe, I'm doing fine," he responded as he hobbled up the stairs with caution.
"Honey, I don't think I've ever been happier to be home," said Bev once they were both inside.
"Yup, I know exactly what you mean, feels good doesn't it."
Bev watched as her husband grappled with his crutches through the living room to his favorite recliner. Fighting to keep his balance, he took them from under his arms and set them against the arm of the chair then, while keeping his cast extending so it didn't touch the floor, Carl hopped into position and lowered himself to sit; the last few inches came with a flop and his arm bumped the crutches knocking them to the floor.
"Shit," was his only comment as he leaned back in comfort letting the foot rest come up.
Bev had to chuckle to herself; she wasn't used to seeing her very competent husband struggle with anything; it wasn't often she was able to take care of him, it was always the other way around; hell, he almost never even got sick; it was almost heartening to know he might have to depend on her for some things; this was her chance to baby him for a change, even if she did have a bum shoulder.
She watched as he stretched out in his recliner and saw her first chance to offer some tender loving care. She walked up stairs to the bedroom and grabbed a pillow. "Here, honey, can you lift your leg; let me put this under it, you're supposed to keep it elevated, remember?"
Carl opened his eyes to see his beautiful wife standing in front of him with the pillow in her hand; his smile spread across his entire face. "Thanks honey," he said while lifting his ankle.
"How about I make a pot of coffee and we call for a pizza delivery," Bev asked.
"Oh babe, some of your black gold would be like a slice of heaven right now, especially after drinking that swill they served in the hospital."
"Honey, do me a favor," she said getting up and kissing his cheek on the way to the kitchen, "Don't mention heaven for a while; it makes me think of just how close we came to earning our wings."
"You got it," he replied with a chuckle.
A little while later Bev presented her hubby with his first cup of real coffee in two days; "Aaaaaaah; nectar of the gods," he proclaimed as it slid past his taste buds. "Oops, I did it again, didn't I?"
Bev just smiled as she sat on the arm of his chair so he could put his arm around her waist; "Honey, what are we going to do about the guy who saved our lives?" she asked. "I can't stop thinking about that; we have to figure out a way to pay him back."
"Yeah, I know, honey, we will," he replied. "That state trooper said we should be able to get a copy of the accident report tomorrow; that should have his contact information on it. I thought we could invite him over for dinner after we're both feeling a little better; we can get to know him a little and maybe figure out what we can do for him."
The pizza soon came, after which they spent the rest of the evening just relaxing. Right after the ten o'clock news and weather, they decided to call it a night.
Between all their aches and pains, they both had pretty much ruled out any real hanky-panky, at least for a few nights, but that didn't mean they couldn't find a way to cuddle.
Just before turning out the lamp Carl noticed his lovely wife's eye's glistening in the light. "Are you crying, honey?"
"I'm sorry, darling, I can't help it; I just keep thinking how close I came to losing you." Bev wiped her tears away, "I am so thankful; I don't think I could live without you my love. Personally, darling, I will never be able to pay that young man back for what he's done."
"We'll find a way, babe; somehow we'll come up with something. Come on, honey, this whole experience has us both completely drained emotionally; let's get some sleep, tomorrow we'll start on operation pay back," he said turning out the lamp and snuggling up.
Right after breakfast the following morning, Carl checked on the computer and found the accident report they wanted was available to be downloaded. He complied with what had to be done, and a few minutes later, had a printed copy for themselves.
Between the guy who witnessed everything from the road and Barry's own testimony it was all there. They read both accounts of the kid's heroic exploits with astonishment. By the time they were done the need to somehow show their gratitude was stronger than ever.
A few minutes later Bev sat anxiously by while Carl did some internet checking with the report in front of him. Evidently Barry did not want to give his phone number to the police but the address he gave was in an extremely wealthy part of town. With some more checking he found the address was actually listed to a, Bartholomew Westchester.
"Honey, this is not looking good," he told Bev, "You know all those mansions in Barrington?"
"Yes," she replied.
"Well our hero lives in one of them. I'm pretty sure Barry's dad could buy and sell us with his pocket money. I just looked him up; he's the CEO of his own fortune five-hundred corporation."
"Oh, honey, what'll we do? We have to find some way to show our appreciation," said Bev.
"Yeah, I know, honey; I feel the same way. Don't worry, we'll figure out something. Right now though, I have to figure out a way to get a hold of him. People like this aren't listed in the book."
"Westchester Incorporated," he heard a sensual voice on the other end of the line say.
"Hello, my name is Carl Stapleton; my wife and I were involved in an auto accident last week and Barry Westchester saved our lives. I'm pretty sure his dad is Bartholomew Westchester, the CEO there; I'm trying to get a hold of Barry to thank him and I'm wondering if I can talk to him, or his dad?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Stapleton, but Mr. Westchester is not in," she said pleasantly but not quite grasping the situation, at least not as far as he was considered.
"Okay, look I'm sure they both value their privacy, but Barry risked his own life to save ours; all I want is a chance to thank him. Is there any way to contact him?"
"Sure, Mr. Stapleton, I understand. If you could give me your contact information I will pass it on to Mr. Westchester's executive assistant."
"Okay, but please try to tell her how important this is; Barry is a real hero, we just want to show our appreciation, that's all."
"Of course, Sir; I will let her know."
Carl gave the receptionist all the pertinent information. "Well, that's about all I can do right now, honey; we'll just have to wait and see if he calls us back," he told Bev.
"Oh, honey, I sure hope he calls us back, and soon," she responded.
The next two weeks went by without a peep from the Westchester family. In the meantime, Bev was able to lose the sling and had an occupational therapist coming to the house to help with getting her shoulder loosened up again. Carl was feeling much better as well. With just over the counter pain meds, his ribs felt fine and he was getting much more proficient with his crutches.
They had finally settled their claim with the insurance company and Carl couldn't wait to replace his Lincoln. Under normal circumstances he wasn't very comfortable in his wife's Civic; now, with the cast, he couldn't even fit in it. They were just about to go out in search of a new car when the phone rang.
"Hello," answered Bev.
"Hello, this is Barry Westchester," Bev's eyes got big as saucers and she was almost frantic as she waved her husband over to the phone.
"Oh, Mr. Westchester, thank you so much for everything ... I mean; oh God, there's so much my husband and I want to tell you and now that I'm finally talking to you I can't think of anything to say..."
"Here, give me the phone, honey," Carl said taking it from Bev's hand. He heard the gentleman on the other end of the line chuckling to himself. "Mr. Westchester, what my wife was trying to say is thank you. Of course those words are completely inadequate; we were both out cold but the state trooper investigating the accident told us how you risked your own life to save ours. Right now I have no idea how to express our appreciation but we'd ... ah, well, maybe we could get to know one another a little better. Bev and I really need to show our gratitude somehow; to start, we'd like to invite you over for dinner one night; I know that probably sounds like such a trivial gesture for what you did, but my wife is a fantastic cook and ... I ... I would really like to shake your hand," he stammered with emotion.
The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds. "I don't know; I guess that would be okay; I'm in school right now though; I won't be back in town until next week."
"Mr. Westchester that would be fine; we'd be honored if you could make it. What's your favorite dish? I'll have Bev cook it for you."
"Oh, I'm not fussy, and please call me Barry; my dad is Mr. Westchester. I do like Trout Almondine; our cook at the house makes that for me all the time when I'm at home.
"Trout Almondine it is, Barry," he said looking at Bev who was nodding her head with approval. "What evening would be good for you?"
"How about next Wednesday at seven," he said.
"Next Wednesday at seven o'clock, you got it," Carl repeated excitedly, "Let me give you directions."
"Oh that's okay, I have your address already; I'll just punch it into my GPS."
"Okay, Mr ... I mean, Barry, we'll see you then."
They said goodbye to each other and hung up. Bev was almost giddy she was so happy they were finally going to get a chance to thank the man who risked his own life to save theirs. Carl was almost as bad. They hugged one another like they had just won the lottery.
They were still locked in an embrace when they heard their cab signal his arrival with a toot from the horn. "Loren's Lincoln dealership on Dempster, please," Carl told the cab driver; they bought their last three cars from there. Carl always dealt with the sales manager and was pretty sure they'd get a good deal on another MKS. The next day their new car was delivered to their home.
Wednesday morning Carl woke to the smell of fresh coffee; he looked at Bev's side of the bed and found he was alone. Since not having to go to work for the last few weeks he was getting spoiled by waking up with his lovely wife curled in his arms. He missed her. He looked at the clock; it was only six-thirty, what is she doing up so early, he wondered.
"Good morning sleepy head." Bev was sitting at the kitchen table in her robe sipping her first cup of morning pick-me-up. "What would you like for breakfast?"
"Good morning yourself; what are you doing up so early?" he asked sitting down on the opposite side of the table.
Bev got up to pour him a cup of coffee. "Have you forgotten what day this is? Barry is coming tonight, honey; I have a lot to do between now and then," she told him.
"Honey he's not going to be here until seven tonight."
"I know but I have to go to the market and get the things for dinner; I have to clean this place up; there's a lot to do, honey."
Carl thought she was overdoing it a little but he knew better than to argue with her. He helped as much as he could, which wasn't much, but Bev worked tirelessly and by four o'clock, everything that could be done was; the sauce was made, the table set, and the house could easily pass the white glove test. The only thing left was actually baking the fish and that she wouldn't start until just before he arrived. The only other thing left was to shower and dress. When they realized they had three hours to kill they looked at one another.
"Honey I'm so worked up; I feel like a little girl waiting for Santa Claus; you know what I really need to settle my nerves?" Carl just looked at her; he knew exactly what she needed ... it had been a while and he needed it just as badly as she did. He raised one eyebrow.
She knew that look. "Yup," she said with a smile, "you know exactly what I need. What do you think; are you well enough?"
"We'll soon find out," he stated with a smile.
"Last one up goes down on the other first," she said knowing it was no contest with him on crutches. Of course as far as Carl was concerned, win or lose, it made no difference; either way he was a winner. He carefully hoisted himself up one stair at a time, taking each one with a smile on his face.
By the time he made it to the bedroom door Bev was lying across the bed, wearing only a huge grin. Since almost losing one another, the intimacy they shared as a couple only grew stronger and more significant, but between the emotional roller coaster, and the physical restrictions they had both been going through for the last couple of weeks, this was the first time either of them would give in to their desire for each other since the accident.
Carl rested his butt down on the dresser for support, leaned his crutches against the wall and started removing his shirt. Bev crawled across the bed like a sleek panther, playing the role to the hilt by producing a seductive purring noise with her tongue. He froze with expectation as he watched his wife moving closer to him.
"Here, let me help," she cooed undoing the remaining buttons. She hoisted the shirt over his shoulders and held it behind him, briefly trapping his arms while she lifted on her toes and kissed his lips. She pressed her hips forward, "Mmmm," she murmured feeling his bulge.
She pulled his shirt down freeing him of the sleeves then tossing it carelessly in the middle of the floor. Almost immediately her hands went for his belt; "Here, sit down on the bed," she told him. He wasn't going to argue. She made short work of his one shoe and sock then scooted between his legs. Carl lifted his butt just long enough for Bev to remove his pants and shorts with one fell swoop.
Reverently she looked up into her husband's loving eyes; her hands caressed his legs before circling in on his pelvic region. He had been hard since first seeing his love stretched across the bed.
Bev leaned in and used only the tip of her tongue to tease the head of his manhood. Settling back against his hands, Carl closed his eyes and enjoyed the breathtaking sensations of his exotic wife.
"Oh God, honey," he sighed, "Not that I'm complaining, but I thought I owed you first."
"Just shut up and enjoy," she told him. Bev continued with her prescribed therapy for a hardened cock. She licked and sucked, teased and taunted until Carl was ready to explode.
"Oh, babe, I'm going to come; I can't hold it any longer," he cried out.
Hearing her husband's words of ecstasy, Bev engulfed his entire tool, taking it deep in her throat. She felt his body convulse with one spasm after another as he vocally pronounced his euphoria to the world.
Knowing how close they both came to death, she felt as if every shot of husband's enchanted elixir gave them new life. She swallowed as if she were drinking from the fountain of youth.
As she continued to hold him in her mouth, Bev could feel Carl's magic wand losing some of its magic. She looked up to see him staring at her. "I love you so much," he said with just an element of moisture building in his eyes. She knew he was thinking the same as she, and was sure neither of them would ever take the other for granted for as long as they lived.
They lay together, cuddled in each other's arms before Carl took the incentive to pay up for losing the race. Not since they first met had they gone so long without making love; the simple hint of her husband's lips nuzzling behind her ear caused Bev to catch her breath with anticipation. Her pulse raced with every erotic touch of his hand and within the first minute of her husband's attentions Bev burst uncontrollably into an orgasm, her body twisted and bucked wildly with sheer rapture as her screams filled their private den of iniquity. Carl waited just long enough for the tide to ebb before continuing to work the love of his life into another frenzy.
Her eyes closed tightly as she felt Carl's tongue deftly finding every erogenous zone. She moaned with hedonistic pleasure as her man skillfully manipulated her love button bringing her over the top for the second time within minutes.
Bev's wonderful breasts heaved with labored breathing, her mind filled only with lust for her man as her husband slipped inside of her. Each long, slow stroke of love was met with his wife's sensuous moans of ecstasy. "Oh God," she shrieked as he picked up the tempo; "Oh babe, I'm ... I'm going to com ... ahhhhh, she screamed as her body was wracked again with unbridled passions.
Carl felt her clamping tightly around hardened rod; every muscle in his body strained as he released the pent up love fluids he had been harboring for so long. Time and time again he felt himself shooting sperm deep inside his wife's love canal. With every ounce of energy drained, Carl collapsed next to his wife.
"Wow," she said still fighting for breath, "maybe we should always wait for two weeks before making love; that was incredible."
"It's always incredible with you, darling; and don't get any ideas about waiting another two weeks," he joked.
Bev laughed and agreed.
"Damn, honey; you look absolutely stunning, "Carl said coming into the bedroom. Bev was sitting at her make-up table getting ready for their visitor. "You're not planning on seducing this guy, are you?" he joked.
"Is it too much," she said looking at his image in the mirror, "What do you wear when meeting the man who saved your life?"
"Good point, Babe; no, it's not too much, you look fantastic," Carl said reassuring her.
She turned around in her chair, "You don't look too shabby either, lover." She stood and kissed him lightly on the cheek so as not to smudge her lipstick.
They went downstairs to wait; Bev anxiously took one last look around making sure everything was just the way she wanted it. "God, honey, believe it or not, I'm still nervous, are you?"
"Yeah, I am too..." he replied just as the doorbell rang. They looked at one another then walked together to greet their rescuer. Bev stood at his side as Carl opened the door to find a tall, good looking man in his early twenties.
"Mr. Stapleton, I'm Barry Westchester," he announced reaching out his hand.
"Mr. Westchester," Carl responded, being careful not to lose his crutch as they shook hands. "Please, come in, It is a real pleasure to meet you; please call me Carl, this is my wife, Bev," he said gesturing to beautiful woman next to him.
Their guest was immediately struck by how attractive she was. "Yes," he said, reaching to shake her hand as well; it was easy to see she was nervous.
"We actually all met, although I won't be insulted if you don't remember," he chuckled trying to relieve some of the tension, "And please, it's Barry."
"Oh yes, I'm sorry," Carl apologized, "There's just something about calling the man who saved our lives by his first name."
"I understand but Barry is fine, really," he told them holding up a bottle in his left hand, "I don't know if you were planning on wine with dinner but I brought a nice Chablis just in case."
"Oh, Barry, you didn't have to do that; thank you so much," Bev said taking it from him, "I'll open it now so it has a chance to breathe; dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes."
Barry didn't want to seem rude or obnoxious but he couldn't help watching Bev as she walked with a gentle sway to her hips on the way to the kitchen. She sure looked different than she did that terrible night.
"Can I get you anything before dinner? I have some great twelve year old scotch," Carl asked as they settled in the living room. "Or I have beer in the fridge."
"No thanks, I'll just have some wine with the meal," he replied.
"How much longer will you be on crutches?" Barry asked as his host hobbled to the sofa.
"Ah, probably another month," he answered, "It can't be soon enough for me though, I hate these damn things."
"Yeah, I know what you mean; I was on them for almost a week after that night."
Bev opened the wine and took it to the table chilling in a wine bucket before rejoining Barry and her husband. They were already deep in discussion. Again, Barry couldn't help but notice how beautiful Carl's wife was as she sat on the arm of the couch next to her husband. Carl looked at his attractive mate with pride and put his arm around her waist; she leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek then focused her attention to Barry as he continued with his story.
"I was coming home from a friend's house," he told them, "I was just getting ready to pass you as soon as that truck went by; it's a good thing it happened when it did, a few minutes later and I'd have been long gone and wouldn't have seen a thing."
Listening to Barry gave Bev goose bumps; she knew they'd had a close call with death but now they were hearing just how close it really was; a chill ran up her spine. She couldn't stop thinking, had it not been for the man sitting in front of them, they would have both been killed.
"They told us you hurt your knee," Carl said.
"Yeah, it's okay now but it was pretty sore for a while; like I said, I was on crutches for almost a week, after that I had to wear a brace; I just took the brace off a couple days ago."
"How did you do it; hurt it I mean?" Bev asked.
"It was that damn icy grass on the side of the hill; I slipped as soon as my foot hit it and went flying down the hill; your car stopped me, I smashed right into it with the knee," he told them. "At first I was sure it was broken; it literally brought tears to my eyes, it hurt so badly."
Barry was still answering their questions about the accident when Bev announced that dinner was ready. Once at the table, Carl changed the subject.
"Barry," I'm not quite sure how, but Bev and I want to find some way to show our appreciation. Originally we thought of paying for your education, or helping you in your chosen career, but I'm guessing you have all that covered; am I right?"
Barry nodded his head. "Carl I'm one of the chosen few; I wasn't born with a silver spoon, mine was twenty-four karat gold. My dad has more money than I could spend in three life-times. I go to Harvard and when I want to come home for the weekend, dad sends the corporate jet for me; for my twenty-first birthday he bought me a nineteen sixty-four Jaguar XKE and had it completely restored; that's what I was driving that night of the accident. I appreciate your offer but I'm pretty well set for life," he told them.
To Bev and Carl this was not good news; they didn't just want to do something to show their gratitude, it was a need, a deep seeded need they both felt. "Please, Barry," Carl said almost sounding as if he was begging, "Think about it; there must be something, some way we can say thank you."
"Well this dinner is a start," he said happily, "I thought Mary Anne, that's our cook, made the best Trout Almondine I've ever tasted, but this is better than hers. Bev if you ever need..." he stopped himself from finishing the sentence.
"If I ever need what, Barry?" she inquired.
"Ah, nothing, Bev," he replied sheepishly, "I just wanted to compliment you on the meal."
"I think he was about to offer you a job as a cook, honey," Carl said with a slight chuckle.
"I'm sorry," Barry said admittedly, "It wasn't meant as an insult, honest; I meant it as a compliment, but ... well, sometimes I say things wrong."
Bev smiled; in addition to feeling so grateful to him, she really liked the young man; she smiled, "Well thank you, Barry, you'll never insult me by praising my cooking, so please don't worry about it."
The rest of the evening went well; Bev served coffee with dessert and they got to know their young savior a little better. They were sorry to see the night coming to a close but it was after eleven and Barry said he had to get going.
"Please," Carl urged, "don't forget to keep us in mind, if there is anything we can do, please don't hesitate to let us know."
"Yes," Bev followed up with what her husband said, "Barry you saved our lives and almost lost yours in the process; Carl and I both are deeply, deeply grateful and truly want to show you how much we appreciate your bravery and what you did for us."
Barry smiled and turned toward the door to leave; he reached for the knob then stopped and turned back to his host. "You really mean that; because I just thought of something."
"Yes," they both said in unison, "Just tell us, what can we do?" Carl asked excited with the prospect of fulfilling their obligation.
"I want a weekend with Bev as my sex slave."