Chapter 1

I’d no idea how my parents, my dad mainly, had found this guide dog trainer. But after several hours of driving over dust-choked desert roads, more like winding, tilting narrow trails along wind-gouged red cliffs, we pulled into a brownish weed-lined gravel yard. Two twisted poles swayed in the breeze. Empty. No sign or marker indicated the name of the business.

A battered chain-link fence, beaten down by the wind, still bravely clung to some rattling wooden posts. Gaps and all, it surrounded the large enclosure containing a dilapidated one-story wooden house and a long, mostly wooden building. I say mostly because the rest of the elongated structure was either corrugated, rusted steel or air, as many gaps showed between its loose, slapping boards.

Energetic dog barks greeted us from inside the gray-tinged house as we pulled to a halt next to a rusted, late-50s pickup truck. It may have been bright red a thousand years ago, but by then was mostly dust-covered rust. Streaked semi-circles on its windshield marked where the wipers swept the glass of clinging brown sand.

After my parents unsecured me and I rolled from the van, my chest tightened when I laid eyes on her for the first time. The sleek golden Labrador had a shining, luscious coat of gleaming orange and white. Her thick fur feathered in the wind as she bounded down the steps. Behind her wagging tail, an older man stepped from the darkened doorway of the house. For all her youthful exuberance, eyes shining and shivering with excitement, the russet-skinned man countered it, moving with a measured cadence, his eyes scanning all of us.

Long black hair gleamed as it whipped behind him, held together by a long leather and bead string. He was well-built with broad shoulders; the hard muscles of his chest showed beneath an open beaded leather vest. When he halted on the bottom step, his corded arms unfolded to hang motionless. Grizzled and care-worn, his face was tanned leather. Eyes black as coal, they glinted as my parents walked and I rolled in my whirring powered chair towards the house.

All the while, she sat by his side, tail wagging, huffing, and flashing the most gorgeous deep emerald eyes at me as my wheeled chariot crunched closer across the gravel and dirt yard. No dust clung to her, and the breeze only made her long snout crinkle when she sought my scent. Or all the scents carried on the wind. No, her eyes gazed only at me. She was seeking my scent alone. What an amazingly beautiful creature. Where did this guy find them?

“This the dog?” my dad asked, while shading his eyes and halting midway across the yard.

Rather than reply, the man flicked his gaze to my mother just as a gust of wind lifted her skirt. His eyebrow raised. Strangely quiet, my mother only sucked on her glistening lips as the wind swirled loose tresses of long, dark hair around her sculpted, made-up face. As dad liked to say, she’d aged well and looked half her mid-40s age. Blessed with long shapely legs, a still proud chest, and a toned body that she worked hard to maintain, she was still stunning.

Earlier, when we were loading me into the car at home, I wondered why she was so dressed up. Now, under the bright midday sun, her tanned frame shone in the shortest red pleated skirt I’d ever seen outside of porn movies; her black lace stocking tops were easily visible as she walked. While driving, my dad’s massaging hand hadn’t left her lace-covered thighs.

And then, even more revealing, my mother’s blouse was only two strips of shiny red material that hardly covered her full, still very pert breasts. Good thing they were still pert, because she wore no bra. She couldn’t: the miniscule top was backless and plunged down to her waist in the front.

As she stood next to dad, her diamond stud earrings and wedding bands glinted in the sunshine. Her neck was bare for the first time. When I’d rolled past their bedroom before we left, I’d watched dad take the golden cross from around her collar and hang it on her jewelry stand.

When another gust blasted dirt across the yard, the man’s eyes shifted once more to my mother. Again, she stood motionless, holding her hands away to let the warm air bare her completely. She wore black undies; tiny, elegantly sculpted lace flowers were taut over her gleaming pelvis.

The breeze swirled her flowery French perfume around me as I sat in my chair next to her. Only two days ago, my dad bought it for her; he’d told me it was very expensive. Another aroma also wafted from my mother - I just couldn’t place it. Sweet. Light buttery sweetness.

“Yes,” the man replied to my dad at last in a deep, booming voice that seemed somehow larger than him. And he was a large man.

As he shifted from foot to foot, dad swallowed. When the man took a step, the dog began to move. But he hissed, and she sat down once more. As he walked closer, he ignored my silent, jaw-clenching dad and me, going up to my mother. Her lower lip trembling, she shook with each of his solid, thumping footfalls. After coming to a halt, towering over her, he swept his dark eyes down her scantily clad frame as she looked up at him.

Well, actually my mother took her time, eyes drifting up his rippling chest bared between the flapping halves of the well-worn, brownish-black leather vest. When her eyes finally met his, he let a tight grin slide across his face.

“We have a deal, mister?” My dad’s wavering voice broke the long silence as the man stared into my mother’s eyes. And she, into his.

While the man remained silent, when his hands slipped onto my mother’s hips, a whimper slipped from her parted lips. They were glossy red, to match her dress. She’d put on fresh lipstick dad had bought as well—also expensive, before getting out of the car. Tremors shook her as his hands swept up her bare ribs; his thumbs pushed under the thin halter top. My mother glanced down at me, eyes wild, before blinking as his hands drove inward to cup her breasts.

What was going on? Why?

Whimper after whimper fled my mother as she stared up at him, before swaying forward. Another groan, this one longer and more ... feral, dribbled from her lips as his large hands squeezed. Under her top, his fingers clenched and glided, pulling more groans from my mother. Her arms quivered at her side.

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