The Last Wish Blues
Copyright© 2007 by Lubrican
Chapter 6
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Brenda was offered one last wish, before the tumor in her head killed her - the chance to do something fun, and to forget her disease, if only for a few days. She made her choice, and it seemed reasonable. But wishes have a way of changing, and, when hers changed, it also changed what was left of her life forever.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Consensual Romantic Reluctant Heterosexual Tear Jerker First Masturbation Petting Pregnancy Slow
Bob was dressed and lying in the sun, trying to get warm after his icy bath, when Brenda got back from her climb. She looked a little bedraggled, with dirt smeared on her face. She wasn’t really in shape for a serious climb, and slumped a bit, looking tired. Dammit scampered over to get her ears scratched, and Brenda squatted to do just that.
Bob made a production of sniffing the air, and then pinching his nose closed. “Now it’s you who needs a bath,” he commented.
“Are you going to climb while I do that?” she asked. The climb had been glorious, and she’d loved every second of it, even though it made her hot, sweaty and tired. The water looked inviting, rather than cold, now.
“No way, Jose,” he said, smiling.
“Well, I certainly can’t take a bath with you sitting here,” she said.
She stood up and Dammit sat down to lean against her leg.
“It’s still as cold as it was,” he said, covering his eyes with his arm. “I won’t watch,” he added.
“I thought I was sexy,” she pouted, uncharacteristically.
“You are,” he said, his eyes still covered.
“So if I’m so sexy and all that, you’ll probably try to peek.”
“Probably,” he said.
She stood there, uncertainly, her shirt sticking to her sweaty skin. The mist felt cool and inviting. Her climb had included more components than just the physical hauling of her body up and down the rock face. She’d thought a lot too. While she didn’t recognize the fact that she’d had an orgasm in those last few wild seconds of the morning ride, she did recognize that she thought about Bob in a way that was different than she’d ever thought about another man.
He had seen her naked ... or almost naked. But that wasn’t the thing uppermost in her mind. What she continued to go back to was the thing that was even more important to her. Part of the nakedness he had seen was her head. While Brenda had pretty well come to grips with the fact that people would pity her, despite how she hated that, she could live with that part. She had never been able, though, to be comfortable with people seeing her baldness. People couldn’t control the almost shiver of distaste when they saw a bald girl. It made her disease ... visible ... in a way that made them uncomfortable. She went to great lengths to ensure that nobody but her doctors saw her without a wig on. Even at home she kept one on her head.
But Bob hadn’t shivered, or pulled back. He hadn’t averted his eyes. And somehow, she knew that he was being truthful when he said he found it a little sexy ... that he found her to be sexy looking. While she climbed, she had experienced again, the rush of joy she’d felt when he hadn’t treated her any different without the wig. The feeling of gratitude she felt toward this man, whom she had known only a few days, was almost physical.
As he lay before her on the grass, looking like he was relaxed and almost asleep, she knew that, if she really did take off her clothes and get into the water, he probably would peek at her. Only a day or two in the past, had she contemplated this, she would have been scandalized ... would have thought of him as a pervert. But now...
She didn’t so much “make a decision” as she just acted.
“You promise you won’t peek while I’m getting in?” she yelled.
“Will it make you feel better if I do promise?” he countered.
“Yes.”
“Okay, I promise.”
Still, she turned her back to him to remove her shirt. She felt naughty again as she felt the fabric slid over her shoulders where a bra strap had always been, but wasn’t right now. She wondered if she should push both her jeans and panties down at the same time, and then felt foolish for even thinking about that. She bent, and peeked herself, between her left arm and her body. He was still lying there, his arm firmly over his eyes.
She was surprised to feel a little miffed that he wasn’t peeking.
But then, the thought that he might be peeking drove her to run to the water. It was a serious mistake. Her toe caught a rock and she pitched headlong into the icy pool.
The first thing she had to think about was just breathing. The water was so cold that it paralyzed her whole body. The shock was like being hit by a truck.
Bob had tried hard not to peek, but lost that battle easily. He saw her push her pants down, and his eyes fixed on her smooth, slim back, where it came around to where he could barely see one hanging breast. When he saw her head start to look at him, he lowered his arm again, and raised it only in time to see her pitch headlong into the water.
He knew very well how cold that water was, and what it would do to her.
When he sat up, all that was visible amid swirling water was a pair of apple shaped buttocks, so white that they stood out starkly against the background of greens and browns behind them.
He bounced up convulsively, and got his boots wet as the buttocks in the water slowly listed to the right and she rolled. Big bubbles were coming from about where her head would be, and he knew that all the breath in her lungs was being explosively expelled from the shock of the cold water. He was reaching for her left arm when her bald head broke the surface, her eyes and mouth wide open. Things seemed to go into slow motion for a few seconds, as he saw clear water drain from her mouth, and her eyes blink twice.
Then things speeded up as she took in a gasp of air and, unfortunately, a little water that was still in her mouth. He pulled at her rigid body, which was frozen as if in full rigor mortis, and it collapsed into a loose bag of bones as she started coughing and gasping. He heard the staccato tapping of teeth, even over the sound of the falls, and saw goose bumps pop out on her shoulders and arms.
Her body came unfrozen and she scrambled to stand, still coughing forcefully, as he dragged her to the grassy bank. Lacking anything else, he bent to pick up her shirt and began running it over her body to get the water off of her, dragging her into the sunlit portion of the glen around the pool.
She hugged her body with her arms and trembled, standing there miserably, as he knelt to run the now damp shirt over her legs and buttocks. He noticed, in one part of his brain, how there was no hair anywhere on her body ... anywhere.
His intent was to stand and get her something dry to put on, but when he did, she all but attacked him, pressing her body to his, her arms going around him as she searched for the nearest source of heat. His hands went to her back automatically, her damp shirt still in one of them. He dropped it and stroked with his rough palms, fast and hard, creating friction that would help warm her.
Her coughing slowly tapered off and she tried to burrow into his chest. His hands came perilously close to those apple cheeked buttocks, but with a will he kept them off of that portion of her body.
“I t-t-t-tripped,” she stuttered, her lower jaw jumping up and down rapidly as she shivered.
“We need to get you into dry clothes,” he said. She held on tightly, instinct insisting that letting go of him would take away the warmth of his body. He had been lying in the sun, and the front of his shirt was warm. She felt something else warm on her calf, and looked down to see Dammit licking water droplets off her skin. Her tail was wagging, and Brenda wanted to laugh, but was shivering too hard at the moment.
Bob held her for another half minute, and then repeated that she needed to get dry clothing on, and she finally let go. She didn’t move, though, her arms trying to cover everything at once, so he went to her saddle bags and opened them. He pulled out jeans first, by chance, and turned to toss them to her. She was wiggling into them, her still damp legs making it difficult, and her breasts bobbing as if they had a life of their own, when he turned around with another shirt. As she tugged and jumped around, he couldn’t help but watch as her breasts wobbled beautifully in the sunlight. Bob felt his traitorous prick begin to stiffen again, and he went behind her to hold the shirt open so she could slide her arms into the sleeves.
The difference, to Brenda, was astonishing. She went from being completely frozen, one second, to being caressed by warm clothing the next, and it was so wonderful that she moaned with the happiness of it all. She fumbled with the buttons of the shirt, her fingers still stiff, and turned to him.
“M-m-m-my f-f-fingers w-w-won’t work,” she stammered.
Bob pulled the shirt over her breasts, and buttoned it. His fingers, moving between her naked breasts, made him even stiffer and he wanted to groan. She hadn’t been able to button her jeans either. He had to move around behind her to do that, and he felt her suck in her belly as he pulled the cloth together. As soon as he was finished, she moved her legs around, almost marching in place, as she tried to get her circulation going again.
“Wow,” she groaned. “That didn’t w-w-work out well at all!”
At least her teeth were only chattering part time, now.
“You’re not supposed to just jump in,” said Bob from behind her.
She turned to him, feeling suddenly shy and nervous. This time he had seen her completely naked.
“I told you ... I tripped.”
“You’re not supposed to do that either.” He grinned.
“Well, I’m not all hot and sweaty any more, that’s for sure,” she said, taking his jibe cheerfully. She decided to give him some back. “Thanks for saving me, even if you peeked while doing it.”
He laughed. “You just made me promise I wouldn’t peek while you were getting in. You didn’t say anything about when you were getting out.”
“You’re just a nasty old pervert,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him.
“I don’t blame you,” he said, grinning. “I wouldn’t want...”
“I know, I know,” she cut him off. “See! That proves how much of a pervert you are! All you think about is...” She tapered off, not knowing what to say. She’d almost said “sex”, but that seemed so foreign to her that it sounded wrong. “Sex” was something she had no experience with, even if she’d heard the things that all young women hear, from friends, on the internet and things like that.
“Stuff!” she blurted, just to finish her sentence.
He frowned. “I’m sorry,” he said, unsure as to how upset she was. He had seen her in a very intimate way ... twice now. He didn’t want her to think he thought about her that way.
He didn’t want to think about her that way, for that matter. He looked up, as if Dannie’s spectral face would be there, frowning at him. Instead, his imagination saw her face ... sticking her tongue out at him.
It almost unnerved him, and he turned around to go fiddle with his saddle bags.
Brenda stood there, staring at him. Their conversation, despite the embarrassment of the whole situation, had been light and happy, and then he had frowned and turned away. She felt suddenly guilty for calling him a pervert. He had helped her, and she had repaid him with an insult.
“I don’t really think you’re a pervert,” she yelled.
“If you only knew,” he said under his breath. He turned around. “We need to wash out our used clothes before we go. They’ll dry out as we ride.”
The quiet seemed almost deafening, once they rode away from the falls. The steady sound of the crashing water had become a normal part of nature, while they were there, and the lack of that sound now sounded alien, somehow. Brenda could hear birds chirping, and limbs rubbing against each other as the breeze tickled the tops of the trees. She could hear the creak of leather in the saddles, and even Dammit panting as she trotted along beside Bob and Ranger.
When she spoke, her normal voice sounded like a shout to her own ears.
“What are you going to show me today?” she called up to him.
He looked over his shoulder. “Don’t know for sure. Maybe nothing.”
“What does that mean?” she complained.
“Don’t know if we’ll see anything,” he said, maddeningly. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
Brenda sank into a tiny pout. She didn’t understand what he had said. She was warm again, finally. She took stock of her body, and, again, felt her nipples scraping across the shirt she was wearing.
The horses hit a flat spot, and Bob made a clicking noise with is mouth. Both horses jumped into a trot, and Brenda made unconscious adjustments to the rhythm of the horse under her. She suddenly felt pleasure between her thighs, where her crotch was hitting the saddle in a measured beat.
Now that she wasn’t unprepared, she recognized the feelings of pleasure as the same thing she had felt before. It was delicious, and the ball of warmth in her belly was welcome this time. She began, almost unconsciously, to experiment with how she held her body, and had just found the perfect position to maximize the almost electric sensations as her pussy impacted the saddle, when the horses slowed to a walk again. She sighed, discontented, as the feelings went away, until she leaned forward, and felt them again.
Now, for the first time, she recognized what she was feeling as something vaguely sexual. It wasn’t as intense as it had been, but by shifting in the saddle ... just so ... she found that it rubbed the spot that the saddle had been bouncing against so deliciously. She felt heat suffuse her cheeks as she realized what she was doing, but it felt so good that she kept doing it. Her belly got tight, and she began to wiggle in the saddle, to accentuate the feeling. The thought flitted through her mind that she was masturbating. She’d heard of that, of course. Some of her friends claimed to do that. But she’d never given in to the temptation to try it. She’d heard other things about masturbation too ... that it wasn’t good for you ... that it could cause bad things to happen. She told herself this couldn’t be masturbation. She wasn’t touching herself. It was just the saddle, making her feel good, somehow.
When, fifteen minutes later, they trotted again, her reservations about doing something decidedly naughty flew to the winds as the bouncing came back. This time she could feel it building, deep in her belly, and when the waves of ecstasy washed over her, she was, more or less, ready for them.
“Ohhhhhhhhh,” she groaned, as an orgasm wracked her young body.
Bob looked over his shoulder. It sounded like she was in pain.
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