Chapter 3

Supper was almost anticlimactic from the point of view of the two women. What was on their minds, as they looked at Bobby, was quite different than what Bobby was thinking about.

In fact, he had gripped his boner, squeezing it and feeling its stiffness, but he hadn’t stroked it. He was afraid he’d have another seizure and his fear of that outweighed his desire to get relief. Just holding and squeezing himself made him feel a little better, though, and the rigors of the day, both physical and mental, eventually caught up with him. He fell asleep still holding the evidence that his new caretaker got him going.

When he woke up, it was his mother gently shaking him, sitting on the side of the bed. His consciousness rose to the point where he realized his hand was in his shorts and he jerked it out.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about,” said Vicky. “You’re a normal, teenage boy. Dinner is ready. Put on a shirt and come to eat. And be expeditious, me-boy. We don’t want it getting cold, now do we?”

She patted his shoulder and then stood and left. Bobby did exactly what she’d told him to do and he did it basically without thinking. He got up, pulled a T shirt on, and padded barefoot to the kitchen, still wearing his boxers. The boxers were dark blue with white stripes on the sides, making them look vaguely like a swim suit, except that swim suits didn’t have a slit in the front to let a man’s penis out to pee. The shirt was a dark lilac color with the logo of a band on it. He was wildly mismatched, not to mention he was going to eat in his underwear, but neither woman said anything to him about it. They simply put the food on the table, sat, and began to pass it around.

Bobby was famished, something unusual. Ever since he woke up from the coma food had been relatively uninteresting. His life was uninteresting, and all parts of life were uninteresting, too. Now, though, as he sat and his nose caught the scent of the soft pieces of chicken mixed with potatoes and spices, his stomach growled. They had heated up cans of green beans and carrots, too. He took a generous portion and dug in.

Vicky watched, delighted, as he ate with gusto. She looked at Mai Li, who didn’t seem to notice the import of what Bobby was doing. ‘Of course not,’ Vicky thought. ‘She doesn’t know this is unusual.’

“It’s good to see you have an appetite, for once,” she said aloud. “You used to eat like that all the time.”

“It’s good,” mumbled Bobby, his mouth full.

“It’s been a struggle to get him to eat,” Vicky said, sotto voce to Mai Li.

“We had Burger King, earlier today,” said Mai Li.

The rest of the meal was quiet and uneventful.

After supper Bobby did one of only two chores he’d been assigned to do since coming home. He did the dishes. He did them by hand, because this house didn’t have a dishwasher, but he didn’t really mind. His day was so boring, generally, that having something to do, even if it wasn’t very interesting, was welcome.

Vicky and Mai Li went to the living room, where Vicky sank into her recliner and sighed.

“That was a delightful meal. Thank you.”

“It was no problem,” said Mai Li. “It only took fifteen minutes of actual work.”

“I haven’t had the strength to cook,” said Vicky, “or the time to teach Bobby how to cook. I have time for six hours of sleep until I have to get up to go to job number one.”

“Go on to bed, then,” said Mai Li. “Bobby and I will find something to do. Maybe we’ll spend some time on home economics as part of his education.”

“I’m so glad you came to work for us,” said Vicky. “And I’m sorry if it is difficult for you.”

“It’s not that difficult,” said Mai Li. “He’s a good guy, underneath that surly attitude he shows the world.”

Vicky stood with a soft groan and felt the urge to hug Mai Li. It was a quick hug of gratitude, and didn’t seem unusual to either woman. Then she headed off to her bedroom.

Mai Li wandered back to the kitchen, where the dish drainer was already full of clean dishes, air-drying. Bobby was struggling a little bit with the large, heavy crock that dinner had been cooked in. Mai Li’s professional eye saw that his underdeveloped muscles were straining to handle the weight of the crock, which she estimated weighed seven or eight pounds.

“Want some help?” she asked.

He looked over his shoulder.

“I’m good,” he said. “Where’s Mom?”

“She went to bed. She has to get up in six hours.”

“She works so hard. I wish my dad would pay his child support so she didn’t have to work two jobs.”

“Do you get to see him often?” asked Mai Li.

“He took off while I was still in the coma. I haven’t seen him since the day of the accident,” said Bobby, a note of irritation entering his voice. “Mom said he thought I’d never wake up. He thinks I’m broken, or something.”

“I’m sorry,” said Mai Li. “You’re not broken.”

“I know,” said Bobby. “I might be a freak, but I’m not broken.”

“You’re not a freak, either, Bobby,” said his caretaker. “You’re just a guy who got into a bind and is working his way out of it. Give it a few months and your father will see you’re as normal as when you were before the accident.”

“Except for the epilepsy,” said Bobby. “That’s not so normal.”

“Epilepsy like yours is usually manageable,” said Mai Li. “The seizures you’re having now are just part of your brain being asked to do more than it wants to. Think of it like your brain is lazy. We’ll whip it into shape.”

“So now you want to whip me?” It was the first joke Mai Li had ever heard him make.

“Only if you don’t do what you’re told to,” she said, trying to sound menacing. “What do you usually do in the evenings?”

“TV, mostly,” said Bobby.

“Do you have any picture puzzles?”

He paused, obviously thinking.

“I think we had some before we moved, but I have no idea where they are now, assuming she even kept them.”

“I wish we had a therapy pool,” she said, thinking out loud.

“What is a therapy pool?” he asked, putting the crock in the drainer. He had to arrange it on top of the other dishes and balanced it there, somewhat precariously.

“It’s a small swimming pool that has a motor in it that makes the water flow in one direction,” she said. “When you’re in it you have to walk or swim against the flow. It’s really good for building and maintaining strength without the stress of heavy weights.”

“Where would we put something like that?” asked Bobby.

“There’s room for one in your back yard,” said Mai Li.

“How much does one cost?”

“I have no idea. At least a few thousand, I imagine, but that’s a wild guess. I’ve never bought a therapy pool. All the ones I ever worked with were indoors, but I know they make outside models that sit on the ground. I’ve seen them advertised on TV.”

“I have money,” said Bobby. His attitude about that was not that of a man bragging that he was rich. He would be rich, when he turned twenty-one, but he didn’t act like he couldn’t wait to get his hands on his trust.

“I doubt they’d approve buying a swimming pool,” said Mai Li. “They’d think it was recreational, rather than therapeutic.”

“It can’t hurt to ask,” he said. “All they can say is no.”

“Would you be willing to do the work? It doesn’t stress your body as much as weights or bands, but that means you stay at it longer. It can still be a workout that leaves you tired.”

“Would you be there?” he asked.

“Of course,” she said. “Where else would I be?”

“I don’t know. If you’ll be there I promise to work hard.”

“Okay, now I’m suspicious. Why would me being there motivate you to work hard?”

“It’s a pool, right? You’d be wearing a bikini, right?” He grinned.

“Bobby Washington! Are you flirting with me?” she teased.

“Maybe a little,” he said. “But I have to! You’re the only female I know, other than my mom. I can’t flirt with her, so...” Again, he grinned.

“So I need to find you a girlfriend? That’s not in my job description, Buster.”

“I’m happy flirting with you until I get some muscle back. No girl would want anything to do with me like this.” He held his arms out to his sides.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Mai Li. “You’re not ugly. I wouldn’t say you’re killer handsome, either, but there’s potential there. We could get you a haircut and some nice clothes and you’d look fairly presentable. A girl could have a good time in your presence.”

“Until I had a seizure,” he said, all traces of jocularity gone.

“When the time comes for you to go on dates, I’ll spend some time with the girl and educate her. If she’s prepared, then even if you have a seizure it won’t ruin the date.”

“You’re funny,” he said, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “You’re a riot. You should be a standup comedian on TV.”

“Have you ever heard of a comedian named Josh Blue?” asked Mai Li.

“No. Why?”

“Because he has cerebral palsy and has trouble controlling his right arm and hand. It waves in the air like it has a mind of its own. He looks like a deranged homeless man, but he’s parlayed his disability into a very successful career. Come on. I’ll show you.”

He followed her to her laptop, which she logged onto. Again she used a hot spot to get online. She went to You Tube and typed “Josh Blue” into the search bar.

Ten minutes later Bobby was laughing and Mai Li felt a warm sense of satisfaction that she might be able to convince Bobby Washington that he could have a normal life, even if it contained challenges.

She sent him to bed at nine, saying they were going to get up early and go for a walk.

“Your mother has two jobs,” said Mai Li. “Your job is to spend six hours a day working those muscles so they’ll grow and strengthen. Eventually, after you get your strength back and we get that GED out of the way, you can get a job and help your mom until you turn twenty-one. At that point neither one of you will have to work.”

“We’ll see,” he said.

“Why couldn’t what I just said come true?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I just never thought things could be normal again.”

“How many times do I have to tell you you’re normal?” she groaned. “Go to bed. I’ll wake you up when it’s time.”

“Okay,” he said, standing up. He’d been watching clips of various comedians since he discovered Josh Blue. Mai Li had been content to watch with him.

It wasn’t until Bobby got to his room that he realized he was still wearing just his boxers and a shirt, but nobody had acted like that was unusual, or wrong. Now he took off his shirt and then the shorts, tossing them in his dirty clothes hamper. He stood, naked, and was glad there was no mirror in his room that would display his weak body. He looked down at his flaccid penis, which hung, thick and healthy-looking.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he muttered to his organ. He went to his chest of drawers to get a fresh set of boxers, but found the drawer empty when he opened it. A quick search revealed all his underwear was in his dirty clothes hamper.

“Crap,” he groaned. “I should have washed my clothes.” That was his second assigned chore. He was supposed to keep up with his own laundry. He hadn’t been very motivated to do that, and often wore the same clothing for several days in a row. He also avoided taking showers. It wasn’t because he didn’t like the water, or didn’t want to be clean. He was just unmotivated in general. If you took a shower you had to go in there and get the water just right and then stand there and work at getting clean. Then you used a towel, and that had to go in the laundry, too. It was easier to just go to bed. He knew that neglecting his personal hygiene made him smell bad, but there had been no one around to detect that odor.

Now there was someone around who would be able to tell he was wearing dirty clothes, and was ... what had she called him ... odiferous?

As if his thoughts had manipulated reality, he heard the shower running. It had to be Mai Li in there. His mother was already in bed. His mind immediately conjured up an image of Mai Li, short, stocky, built like a brick shithouse ... and naked ... standing under the water. He could get into washing that!

He felt tingles in his groin and looked to see his cock inflating.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, softly.

He lay down on his bed and gripped his bone. He wanted to jack off and the urge was strong. But he was scared he’d have a seizure and flop off of the bed or something.

He did stroke it a few times, but he didn’t try to bring himself off.

He heard the water stop. She’d be getting out, now, her naked body glistening. He’d seen the insides of her breasts. What did her nipples look like? What did the rest of her look like?

His prick throbbed in his hand. Was that his pulse he felt, coursing through his penis?

To distract himself, he looked at his watch, timing the pulses he felt in his manhood, trying to figure out what the beats per minute were.

Mai Li’s showers were short and efficient. She generally only washed her hair once a week, because it took some time to deal with when it was wet. Usually she pinned it all up on top of her head, got wet, got clean, and got out. She dried her body and put on the robe she’d brought with her. She padded on bare feet to her room. She’d already tossed her shorts and halter top into her clothes hamper. Her panties lay on top of those items, sky-blue and lacy. She liked Victoria’s Secret but hadn’t been able to afford it very often. The panties had been a present to herself for graduating from college. Now that she was employed, she’d get some bras and more sexy panties, like the blue ones. Bras, first, though. Victoria’s Secret had the most comfortable bras, and her heavy breasts appreciated being supported in comfort. She had some sports bras, and they were okay for a few hours, but then felt tight and restricting. She’d been able to go braless a lot before this, because there had been no one to see her jiggle and shake.

Now there was Bobby. If she went braless around him he’d probably have chronic erections all day.

She pulled on fresh panties and a T shirt and sat on her bed. She thought back to the conversation she’d had with Vicky. She was still a little astonished that Bobby’s mother hadn’t been unhappy at all that Mai Li had talked to her son about masturbation. She was a lot astonished that Vicky had, basically, said Mai Li was free to help Bobby explore, or at least navigate his “sex life.” The woman had actually encouraged it!

As she lay down, Mai Li contemplated what that could mean. She hadn’t told Vicky that she and Bobby had brushed on the idea of “experimenting,” concerning his erections. The details of such “experimentation” had not been established and Mai Li wasn’t actually sure why she’d suggested that in the first place. Now she thought about it.

She felt like she was starting at a deficit. There was the assumption that his masturbation in the shower had caused the seizure. It had been a grand mal seizure, rather than the softer, gentler focal type. Did his excitement level trigger the seizure? A rise in blood pressure? She didn’t know. She doubted that anybody would know.

What popped into her mind then came unbidden. She rejected it instantly, but it kept returning. The question was: What if someone else got him off, and he didn’t have to work so hard at it? Would he have a seizure then?

She imagined her hand around his thick, pale stalk. What would it feel like? She remembered the feel of Raoul’s thinner bent one. She’d never stroked him to completion. He was always too eager to get in her and get off. Her imagination failed her, when it came to Bobby, though. The tip was covered with that thick-looking skin. She knew that foreskins retracted, but she couldn’t imagine how that happened. Would it hurt to stretch that skin?

“This is ridiculous,” she said, aloud. “I could never do that. And he’d probably have a seizure if I offered.” She closed her eyes. “I’m talking to myself,” she said. “I just might be in over my head.”

She turned off the light and tried to go to sleep, but sleep avoided her. She felt tense. She realized she felt ... horny.

With a groan she turned on her light and got up. Her suitcase was against the wall, next to the closet her meager selection of clothes was in. Her toys were in the suitcase. She unzipped the side pocket and reached in. She chose the dildo, because the vibrator would make too much noise.

She took off her panties and returned to the bed. Her routine with the dildo was well-established. First she teased her lips and clit just a little with the tip, and then slid it deep inside her until she felt it nudge her cervix. Short strokes brushed the little mouth of her womb and the delicious sensations flooded her loins. The device had a series of rough bumps on one side of the tip, designed to stroke a woman’s G-spot. She fucked herself with the length of the device until she was close and then she pulled it out to rub the wet length through her furrow, abusing her clit until she grabbed for a very nice orgasm.

As it coursed through her, her mind again displayed the image of her hand, gripping Bobby’s stiff penis.

Instead of trying to think of something else, she surrendered to her imagination and just enjoyed her orgasm.

Twenty minutes later she was asleep.

She had not put her panties back on, and the dildo was lying on the bed beside her.

When Mai Li woke up the next morning she was momentarily embarrassed by the fact she was half nude and her toy was lying there for all the world to see. Then she reminded herself that “the world” was outside of her door and couldn’t see anything. Vicky was at work and Bobby would never come into her room without permission.

She got up, put her panties on, and looked through her clothing to find something to wear. Something less skimpy was needed. She didn’t want to torture poor Bobby. She chose a pair of cargo shorts and a dark green T shirt. She had to wear a bra that was in the hamper. She hadn’t had a chance to wash everything before she came to work at the Washington home. She felt ‘icky’ at having to wear a dirty bra, but going braless would not do well with Bobby in the vicinity.

The first thing she did was take her hamper to the little utility room that held the washer and dryer. Figuring out how to get the washer going wasn’t too difficult. When the water was running she went to Bobby’s room. She tapped several times and then opened the door.

He was lying half-covered by a sheet that exposed his upper torso. His shaggy hair made a ball of fur on the pillow.

“Bobby!” she said. “Rise and shine. We gots things to do!”

He rolled and lifted his head, peering at her with bleary eyes.

“I want to sleep,” he complained.

“You can take a nap later,” she said. “We need to eat breakfast and then get to work. You have ten minutes. Don’t make me come back here,” she warned.

She left and went to the kitchen. One cabinet had seven different boxes of cereal in it. Most of them were sugary junk and she assumed Vicky had kept trying to entice Bobby to eat, trying a different brand when the previous one failed. She spotted a box of raisin bran and she got it down. She had an empty bowl for him and the milk sitting on the table when he shuffled in. Her own bowl was already half-empty.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

“We are going to have such a great day!” she said, brightly.

“Easy for you to say,” he grumbled.

“I’ll take it easy on you today,” she said. “We should be able to get started on your GED if the account is ready. I’ll call Ted and talk to him about the therapy pool. And we’ll do a little exercising and working on strength.”

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