Secondment
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Second Sight free porn video
Second Sight
By Heather St. Claire
I took a deep breath, and slid a little lower into the tub full of
warm, bubbly suds. I absently let a couple of fingers stroke the
moist, erect nipples on my left breast, and smiled. If it was possible
for heaven to exist on earth, then this surely was heaven.
All too soon it was over. My tape of Enya's greatest hits ended, and
I knew it was time to get on with my day. I took off the headphones
and set them atop the tape player. "Honey," I called to my husband,
Lance. "Could you help me out of here, please?"
His strong, confident voice immediately answered. "Be right there,
love." Soon, I felt his large hand wrap itself around my small, soft,
damp one. I smiled and said, "It's nice to know that chivalry is not
dead, at least in this house." Then I closed my eyes, parted my lips
and waited for his kiss.
A few minutes later, after I had walked into the bedroom, dried
myself, and applied deodorant (what else but Secret, "Strong
enough for a man, but made for a woman.") and perfume, I began
to dress. It's a good thing I'm such a stickler for order.
Bras, top left drawer. Panties, top right drawer. Sweater and skirt
sets, bottom middle drawer. I ran a brush through my hair, applied
a little lip gloss, and was ready to face the day.
I was in the kitchen, pouring coffee for Lance and me, when I
heard Alexis coming down the stairs. "Good morning, merry
sunshine," I called.
"Oh Mom," she said with a slight tone of exasperation. "Do you
still have to call me than? I'm going to be nine years old
tomorrow."
"Sorry, honey," I said. "Old habits die hard, you know. And even
when you're grown up and have a daughter of your own, you'll still
be my little girl." When she didn't respond, I decided to change the
subject. Lance was setting down for his toast and coffee as I asked
her if she was prepared for the spelling test coming in school that
day.
"Yes Mom," she said with a sigh as she poured milk on her cereal,
which responded with a familiar snap-crackle-pop sound. "Don't
you trust me to remember anything?"
I brushed a stray curl out of my face. This long hair was glorious,
wonderful, but maybe it was time to think about a slightly shorter
'do...something a little easier to take care of. "Of course I trust you,
Alexis," I said with a smile. "It's just that I remember what it was
like to be nine years old."
And I did remember. Of course, I didn't tell her that I remembered
what it was like to be a nine-year-old boy. I couldn't believe that it
had been almost nine years since Alexis had arrived; almost 11
years since I had married Lance; and 12 years since the fairy had
granted my fondest wish.
The three of us chatted about things of no particular consequence
for a few more minutes. Soon it was time for the two of them to
leave. I bent down to kiss Alexis on the cheek, then wrapped my
arms around Lance for a good-bye kiss from him. After all these
years, my love for him was as intense as the day we first met. He
was so good, so kind, so wise, so funny. I couldn't imagine life
without him.
After we broke our embrace, he held onto my hand for a moment
longer. "Hon, are you sure you're going to be okay? That fall you
took off the porch the other day could have been bad."
Now it was my turn to be annoyed. "Yes, dear, but it wasn't, was
it? I just landed in soft dirt." I wiped the scowl off my face and
tired to adopt a softer tone. "Oh, darling, I know this is because you
love me and you're concerned for my safety, but this is what we've
always gone around about. Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I'm
going to live my life as an invalid...a baby."
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Have a good day, dear. Be sure to call
if you need me."
I fingered the medical alert device I wore around my neck. "Try not
to worry, hon. Remember, help is only the push of a button away."
A minute later he was gone, and I was sitting down at the kitchen
table again, sipping my coffee. I found myself thinking back to
that amazing night in 1990, when the fairy had appeared to me. I
was a lonely, homely, desperate young man then. Her radiance was
so great I could hardly stand to look directly at her, but I could tell
that she was supremely beautiful.
"I am here to grant your fondest wish," she told me. "But I can only
do so if you're willing to suffer a great loss, as well."
"Why?" I asked with a natural skepticism. "Why bad, with the
good?"
"I cannot answer that," she said quietly. "Nor can I tell you what
the loss will be. Those are the terms. Do you accept?"
"How do I know you know my heart's desire?"
"You want to be a woman, right?"
"Yes," I said evenly, trying to avoid betraying the tremor that was
starting to creep into my voice. "And what else?"
"You want to be a beautiful woman....and to find love and
fulfillment in marriage and motherhood."
I could no longer hide my excitement. Nor did I want to. "I--I
accept."
"You're sure?" the fairy asked.
"Absolutely," I told her. I spoke the word with more conviction
than anything I had said in my life.
She didn't utter another word, but I immediately felt a warm,
tingling sensation over my entire body. For a moment, I felt very
strange. I still can't describe it, exactly....I think fluid might be the
best word. It was if I no longer had any solid mass, but had become
a being of liquid. I didn't feel any pain. Soon, the sensation passed,
and I felt solid again, but different. Wonderfully different.
"Oh my God," I cried in my new, feminine voice.
"Look at yourself" the fairy said, pointing to my full-length mirror.
"Look quickly!"
I wondered why she had added the "quickly" to her command, but
that soon faded as I beheld the beautiful form that gazed back at
me. I cupped one breast in each hand, and tweaked each nipple
with my fingers. I let out a soft moan of delight, then reluctantly let
go. I bent over, ran my hands down my new, curvy, soft legs, then
straightened up and ran the fingers of both hands through my new
long, glorious curls atop my head.
I had saved the best for last, and had just begun to explore my
wonderfully penis-free genital area, when it began to happen.
Everything in my field of vision became fuzzy, then it all began to
go dark.
"Ohhhh!" I cried.
"I'm sorry," the fairy said sadly. "In a few more seconds, you're
going to be completely, irreversibly blind."
The final darkness descended, and I felt warm, salty tears begin to
roll from my now sightless eyes onto my soft cheeks.
"Why?" I asked plaintively. "Why? Why?"
"I can't explain that, my dear. You have to seek that answer on your
own. I have to take my leave of you now." Her voice began to fade;
I barely heard the soft. "Good-bye."
I could feel clothing materialize on my body. At least I wasn't
going to be blind and naked. I felt very happy and very frightened
all at once. My old identity was gone, and so was my sight. What
could I do? I groped for a chair, sat down and thought for a few
minutes. Soon, an idea came to me. I stood up, headed for where I
remembered the front door of my apartment to be, and wandered
outside.
It must have been no more than an hour before a kindly police
officer pulled up to the bus stop where I sat, sobbing. I told him I
didn't know who I was, or how I had lost my sight, both of which
were true. When they took my fingerprints, they ran them through
all their computer records, but found no matches. This wasn't a
surprise to me; the woman I now was hadn't existed until a few
hours earlier.
The next few months are still a kind of wondrous blur to me.
Various agencies and charities helped me find a new home, and
gave me training in coping with the world as a sightless person. It
was difficult and frustrating at times, but I still realized that I was
happier in this new life than my old one. And when I met Lance a
few months later, I instantly knew that the rest of the pieces were
about to fall into place.
No, I thought as I finished my coffee, I don't have any regrets. This
life is so much happier and more fulfilling than my old one. I am
finally the person that I always wanted to be; that I was always
meant to be.
Have I ever figured out the why of the blindness? Not for sure. The
first thought that came to me was that perhaps we are only allowed
a certain amount of happiness in this lifetime; that joy must always
be somehow tempered with tragedy. It seemed reasonable, if a bit
superficial.
After more than a decade of reflection, I'm still not certain, but my
thoughts have begun to run in this direction: too much fulfillment
can easily become complacency, happiness with the status quo, a
form of living death, in some ways. For some reason, it seems we
are destined to always be striving in this life. The obstacles I've had
to overcome as a blind woman have, in so many ways, made the
joy I have achieved all the sweeter.
But enough thinking of big thoughts. I stood up for the table and
walked to the sink to wash out my coffee cup. It was time to get on
with the day.
THE END
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