LeslieChapter 3 Accident and Aftermath
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Half The ManChapter 2: The Accident Aftermath A Marriage In Crisis free porn video
The sun danced between wisps of clouds in the late afternoon sky, its beams following the 'Atlantis Blue' colored sedan down the road and teasingly playing tag with the car's rear bumper. Suddenly the sun's transient playmate turned and the red rear signal blinked farewell. Shadows of trees and buildings enveloped the vehicle as it traveled deep into the complex that was home. The car slowed, pulled into the parking area and came to a gentle stop. The engine silenced and the driver door quickly opened. An excited but queasy young woman got out. She closed the door, dabbed the sweat off her forehead and hurried to the other side.
Mari, hoping to hide her discomfort, took a deep breath and with a cheerful voice opened the passenger door, "Here let me help you my main man."
She reached inside and firmly gripped his arm. Her stomach churned as she watched him swing his good leg onto the pavement. She readied herself when his arm tensed and tightened her grip when he pulled. A few grunts later he gingerly stepped out of the car.
Dylan, one foot on the ground and steadied by his lovely wife straightened up. He inhaled the fresh early evening air.
"Man does it feel good to be out of that hospital and back home. I still can't get over how long it took to get me out of there. The entire afternoon wasted because of that paperwork snafu."
"I know. Sorry I screwed up. I don't know why I did that," Mari replied timidly.
He started to frown but stopped as his remaining myriad of stitches, both internal and external, painfully protested. He winced instead and sighed, tired of all the reminders of that fateful day. The young husband set his other foot on the ground and carefully put weight on his leg, the bones reinforced by a single steel rod.
He reached for the back door handle and responded, "I shouldn't have said anything. It's over and done with. I'm just glad to be here." He let go of her arm and opened the car door.
"Dylan! Stop! Don't put weight on your leg; it's barely been three weeks since the accident!"
His brow furrowed and a smaller less painful frown appeared. He pulled the crutches out and asked what he thought was a simple question.
"Sweetheart, remember what the doctor and hospital therapist said about me walking?"
His 22-year-old wife turned away and sighed, "With all that's going on, I have trouble remembering my name — let alone what a doctor said. I've talked with so many different people. Therapists, insurance adjusters, billing departments, finance people, and of course doctors, specialists, internists, and nurses. I feel like my head is spinning and it won't stop..."
Dylan placed the crutches under his shoulders and faced his overwrought wife. He gave a little derisive laugh, "I guess you don't remember."
Oblivious to his little dig she turned away again, her words still pouring out.
"I mean ever since the accident I keep getting phone calls from that woman's insurance company and the mail is always full of business cards from lawyers. I swear the hospital must get a kickback." She paused to take a breath before seeing that Dylan was waiting for her to stop her nervous chatter.
"What were we talking about?" she asked, realizing that she hadn't heard a word her husband had said.
"I asked if you remembered what the doctor and therapist told us."
He took his hand off the crutch gently pulled her chin up and gazed sharply into her blue eyes. Almost immediately her tummy protested and she averted her eyes to avoid the cause of discomfort.
"I ... I'm sorry honey, the bandages on your face make me queasy. It really bothered me when I came into your hospital room and ... and ... you know."
She choked back bile at the memory. The nurse was cleaning his wounds when she walked in unannounced. She took one look at the swollen mess of jagged stitches, the black and purple blotched skin, the scabs and she ran out of the room retching.
Mari swallowed hard and hurriedly answered him, "No—I don't remember what they said."
He dropped her chin grabbed the crutch hard and hotly replied, "Let me refresh your memory. First, the doctor told both of us that my leg could bear weight if the pain is tolerable and it's for me to decide. The procedure used was designed to keep me walking and hasten my recovery. Second, the therapist said I might have minor problems because my left leg is shorter by a half inch, but they will help me through that. Third, the pelvic x-rays showed only hairline cracks so no issues there. Fourth, I don't need a spleen to live and my abdomen is healing just fine.
"And finally Mari—please pay attention will you? The doctor said in a couple of months they will start plastic surgery on my ugly face—that you have made very, very clear you can't stand to look at — and fix the god damn scars. Got all that?" he finished with a snarl.
"Yes, I got it," was the meek reply as her upset husband headed to their apartment.
Once he was inside her demeanor changed and demonstrating her frustration, she stuck her middle finger up at the closed door, "Fuck you, I don't need this fucking aggravation. Maybe mother was right about you. I mean, first day home—we're not here two minutes, and you bite my head off because I can't remember what doctor number thirteen said! What the hell do you think this is? A test? AND yes, your face is ugly. It makes me fucking queasy."
She finished her solo tirade with a sarcastic, "Sorrry!"
The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she leaned against the blue car. The angry young woman ran her hand along the still open door and took several deep breaths,
"Ever since the accident it's like he's a different person. I visit him in the hospital and all he says is that I am wrong about this, wrong about that. My mother says 'he's' the one who's wrong. Well fine—now that he's out of that damn hospital he can deal with the insurance companies, the doctors and all the rest of the fucking phone calls."
She snatched her purse out of the car, grabbed the door and reared back to slam it when her phone buzzed.
"Damn it—not again," she growled as she fished the phone out of her purse. After a quick glance she muttered, "Not now, mother!"
The brief interlude calmed the storminess and a reticent young woman tossed the phone back inside. A few moments later the car door softly clicked closed.
Dinner was surprisingly quiet, neither Dylan nor Mari were in the mood for conversation. Dylan looked at the clock, pushed away his plate, got up and went to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Following a few seconds of impatient searching he called to his wife.
"Mari! Where are my pills?"
Confused she asked, "What pills?" as she cleared the half eaten food and dishes from the table.
Exasperated, he replied, his volume increasing, "The pills from the prescriptions the doctor gave you yesterday. Please don't tell me you didn't get them filled. I only have a few left of two of my prescriptions, and I am completely out of the other four. You knew that."
"Shit, I forgot. I'm sorry!" came her strained reply.
He closed the cabinet door and yelled, "My goodness Mari. Were you always as forgetful as this? I don't get it; what is so difficult about stopping at the drug store to pick up prescriptions?"
Her shoulders dropped and she cringed. His words once again stung hard. She gathered herself and answered back, "I don't know. My mom called and..."
Harshly he interjected, "Stop right there. You don't know? Mari, that's what a child would say. You forgot all about the prescriptions when your 'mommy' called. Nice, real nice. And what kind of pleasant things did she say about me this time?" he asked incredulously. "Never mind, I really don't care to know."
Exasperated, Dylan yelled, "Damn it Mari you have to let go of her fucking apron strings. Her constant interference will ruin us. Mariette if you don't get out from under her control..."
Dylan looked at his wide-eyed wife and halted his attack. His voice still angry he asked, "Do you think you can get those filled for me—if it isn't too much trouble?"
She whimpered under his assault, a child admonished by her father. "I ... I'm s ... s ... so sorry. I'll ... I'll head up there right now."
Dylan shook his head in disbelief. He grabbed the sides of the sink and looked up into the mirror. He didn't recognize the angry menacing golden eyes, and the clenched teeth staring back.
'Who is this person?'
He stared at the reflection of his red face and watched droplets of sweat form on his brow. Underneath the bandages, the face—his face — throbbed and the inside of his cheek blazed hot and painful. Suddenly he realized it was his fury that caused this latest agony. It was self-induced. He had brought on the hurt. At last Dylan heard the pain in his wife's voice, and immediately regretted his angry words. He relaxed, and to his relief the pounding faded.
He calmed himself and called his wife, this time in a reasonable tone of voice, "Mari, sweetheart can you please come back here?"
The bewildered young woman heard the kindly tone and tentatively came to the door. He smiled the best he could and opened his arms to her. She haltingly came to him and rested her head on his chest. Dylan gently and lovingly stroked her chestnut hair.
His voice barely a whisper, "I'm sorry for getting so upset. I guess the medications are affecting me. I finally realized it tonight. I can see now I've been short-tempered and a real jerk. I haven't been able to work out, the therapy sessions for my leg are difficult and I tire easily. Still, it's no excuse for how I've been treating you. I want to apologize for all the shit I've given you and ask your forgiveness. Now that I'm home and you're by my side, hopefully this irritability will lessen."
He held his beautiful wife for several minutes, and when Dylan felt her breathing more regularly he continued, "I know it's not very pretty under these bandages and I do understand my face is hard for you to look at." He paused and then with a chuckle, "It's hard for me too."
He saw a small smile form on her face and continued, "But beneath the covers, it's still 'little old me'. Hmm, speaking of bandages, don't forget to get that stuff on the list they sent home with us as well. Okay?"
She nodded slightly and with a gentle levity teased, "Let's get a few things straight. You were never pretty. Little—yes, old—definitely, but never—pretty."
He laughed and kissed the top of her head. "Thanks a lot. You certainly know how to stroke my ego."
She pulled away and in mock seriousness replied, "Yes I do know how to stroke your ego and—other 'small' things of yours too."
"Ouch! You are so funny," he laughed. "Now that we got the insults out of the way, why don't you head on over to the pharmacy and get the stuff. I'm going to look at the mail, take my meds and lay down for a bit. It's been a long day."
He thought a second then added, "Oh, pick out a nice cane for me would you? Here's the length the therapist recommended. Nothing pink! Okay?"
Quickly she asked, "What about baby blue?" She got a warm chuckle in response. She took the paper from him, and briefly looked it over. Satisfied she knew what everything was, a seemingly happier Mari picked up her keys to leave. Just as she opened the apartment door the land-line phone rang.
She looked back at Dylan as she stepped out and sarcastically laughed, "You'll have to get that. I'm sure it's for little old you!" and quickly closed the door.
She walked to her car, and whispered to herself, "I hope it's that woman's insurance adjuster so Dylan can have the pleasure of dealing with that jackass."
After a long sigh, "Dylan is so moody I have no clue who is going to show up. Will it be the man I married, or the prick? Lately it's been all 'prick.' Accident or not, I am so tired of his bullshit."
Her cell phone buzzed as she opened the car door. At first she thought it was Dylan, but it wasn't.
"Hi mom sorry I didn't answer earlier I was helping Dylan get out of ... Yes we finally got home ... No he hasn't decided on the insurance offer ... Uh-huh, I agree I thinks it's fair but he has to decide ... I know I'm his wife, but I can't force him. Hold on let me get in the car." Mari slid into the driver's seat. "Okay I'm back ... yeah, I still get a bit nauseous, but it is getting easier ... Yes, he's still being a real prick, and so damn nasty most of the time too ... Well, I hope these mood swings stop soon ... Mother, enough! I love him. Oh by the way, how is the scrapbook coming?" The conversation continued as she drove off.
When she got back to the apartment it was after 8:00 P.M... "I have to go; I'm back at the apartment ... I know, I was shocked too, that's why I called back ... I realize if he takes their offer things will get paid, but for now we'll just have to figure it out ... Thanks for listening, love you too Mom talk with you soon." She disconnected and gathered the bags from the passenger seat.
The apartment was quiet when she walked in. The petite 22-year-old placed the items on the kitchen table, pulled out the receipt again and groaned, "I can't get over the cost of these prescriptions. $247 and that's with insurance. Thank goodness for credit cards."
She set the offending paper down and looked at the opened mail. "$50 co-pay, $84.20 deductible, $136.87 deductible, $125 consultation fee, $75 co-pay, $209.46 anesthesia and these are all after our insurance has paid? Holy shit, how are we going to pay for this along with everything else? Because of all the damn hospital visits, my last two checks weren't the normal amount and Dylan won't return to work for probably a week. Shit. Why won't he get off his high horse like my mom said, and call his parents?"
She scrunched her face as she vividly remembered his words, 'Damn it Mari they told me that if I married you they wanted nothing more to do with me. So just because I was in an accident, you think we should call them and ask for help? Hell no. They want it that way so that's the way it is. Deal with it, okay? And don't bring it up again.'
She sighed, "So I can't ask them for help and my mom can't help because she has just enough to take care of herself. Damn, what are we going to do?"
Distraught she slumped down in her chair. "What am I going to do? I can't handle this stress. Shit and double shit. Maybe I should see a doctor. Fuck! And get another bill?"
She started to lay her head on the table when she saw some notes scribbled on the back of an envelope. "What's this?" She studied the notes and laughed, "It was that insurance adjuster, John Quade, who called when I left. Fucking asshole."
Her eyes opened wide as she scanned the envelope. She was awestruck, "Am I reading this right? Quade told me the bimbo's insurance was limited and would probably only pay $10,000 for medical costs. Now it's twenty—five—thousand?"
It felt like all the past troubles melted away in that instant. From below a warmness, all but forgotten, returned as the fires of lust reignited.
She moaned ever so slightly and with a sultry voice, "Wow, is my hunky hubby a great negotiator or what? Take that Quade." She chuckled, "What would Mother say about Dylan now?"
She looked again at the number on the envelope and beamed, "Maybe I can just forget all about his pricky-ness. He did apologize for it, and it sure felt great to be in his arms. It seems now that he's back things are looking up..."
Mari pressed her lean thighs together and squirmed to quench the rising blaze. Her lust had other notions as she huskily continued, "Hmmm ... up? He's only been home a few hours but it has been three weeks too—I wonder..."
Her shaved pussy pulsed hotter as sexual images filled her mind. The desire for her long absent husband spread like wildfire and burned the uncertainty from her heart. She rose sensuously from the chair and stood on her tiptoes. She rubbed her sides and stretched her arms high above her head. Long chestnut hair flowed down her back. She kicked off her shoes and the cool floor caressed her hot bare soles. She pirouetted and six buttons later her blouse slipped off her shoulders. She reached behind and with a quick flick the lavender colored bra floated lazily to the floor. The loving wife cupped each breast gave them a gentle squeeze and lifted up both mounds. Thumbs teased each nipple, and she moaned when her small areola puckered with arousal. The cherry tips hardened, and the moisture of love permeated her loins with hunger for her man's cock.
"Mmmm, that feels sooo delicious."
Hands followed the shapely curve of her waist and she slowly slid her pants down to her ankles. With a dancers grace she stepped out, picked them up and brought them to her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled the dusky aroma her balmy wetness left behind. The chestnut haired beauty parted her legs and felt her engorged clit rub against the saturated thong. With careless abandon she stepped out of her pants and dipped a hand between cloth and skin to search for the nectar of lust. Her finger parted the plump lips and slid into the narrow crevasse that hid the jewel she desperately sought. Hot steamy succulence covered the diamond of the valley and she rolled the slickened fingertip over the pulsing gem.
"Ohhhh, yeah, yeah, mmh, mmh, ahhhh..." She swayed with each stroke then suddenly withdrew her wet finger. Her clit throbbed in protest. She brought the glistening member to her mouth and licked the warm dewy liquid. She hurried to the bedroom and peeked in on the still figure of her man. She pushed her thong down and as she bent down to pick it up a cool breeze caressed her pink rosebud. She moaned with desire. Fingers returned to the steamy valley, pushed open the crevice and entered the humid garden. She slowly withdrew her dampened finger and traversed the short distance to the furrowed hole of forbidden dreams. A drop of dew followed it down the small wet path. She explored the crinkly folds and circled the muscled ring. She found the drop and lubricated the firm opening.
"Ohh Dylan," she moaned as her finger pressed past the outer wall.
Abruptly the panting woman gasped. With a faint throaty whisper she pleaded at the tranquil form on the bed, "No, don't wake up, not yet, not yet. I need you growing in my mouth first." She crossed her legs to slow the flow of love, and covered her large bosom with her arms.
She listened attentively for five seconds then ten. 'Whew, he's still asleep it must've been my imagination playing tricks. I ... I can't wait any longer, I have to taste him.' Her wanton pussy gushed. Anxious to satisfy her carnal craving, she noiselessly entered the darkened room and softly padded to the bed. She dropped her thong and careful not to wake him, or worse hurt him, slowly crawled up by his right side. The horny chestnut haired lovely reached under the covers and desperately searched for the tiny prize that had been denied for so long.
"I found you my small precious. Oh my," she chuckled softly, "your forest needs to be de-thatched."
The blanket was slowly drawn away and when his molehill was revealed she marveled how tiny, how small, how delicious it looked. Imperceptible beads formed on her brow as the erotic volcano erupted. The smoke of arousal wafted through the night air and teased her senses. A soft whimper escaped her mouth at the realization that three weeks of loneliness was about to end. She licked her lips and prepared to quench the raging inferno between her lithe legs.
"Such a little insignificant thing you are, but not for long," she hoarsely said and lowered her head to claim her prize.
She took him in her mouth and buried her nose in his luxuriously thick brown pubic hair. Her tongue swirled his glans, her focus on one thing, 'Come on baby grow for me.' His cock twitched and her nipples hardened. Greedily she sucked his miniscule member and tongued its underside.
He jerked, and her hand wandered down towards the white-hot nether region. She mewled as her finger found her erect clit, and juices of lust gushed out of her heavenly crevice. 'Come on come on, what the hell is going on? I can feel it move, but it's barely grown.' Frustration was the only thing that grew in her world tonight. Abruptly she removed her mouth and looked at the shriveled offering before her.
Mari touched her husband's penis with a slickened hand. She carefully pulled on him, and let go. She gasped as a bit of white creamy cum oozed slowly from the tip as it withdrew back into the brown forest. 'What's wrong with his cock, it didn't try to grow and it's like he already came. Normally it's at least four inches and swelling fast. I felt it move, I know I did. Damn I was close too, what the hell is going on?' Her thoughts betrayed desperation at what wasn't happening.
"Dylan honey, wake up something's wrong." The worry in her voice grew when the sleeping form did not stir. "Fuck he isn't waking up. Maybe it's not working because of the pills he took. They not only knocked him out but his cock too. Shit."
Mari got up and quickly dressed. She came back to her prone husband, and stared helplessly at the tiny dick she loved so much. She shuddered noticeably as she drew the blanket over him. For some reason she thought of a movie scene where the doctor covers the dead body with a sheet. A tear escaped her blue eyes and she walked out of the bedroom to the kitchen not noticing the growing wet spot on the sheet.
High on her toes she reached behind a glass in the cupboard and courtesy of her mother pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Full of worry, she opened the patio door stepped onto the grass behind their apartment and headed to the pond. The large orange sun just touched the horizon and the end of day shadows were long. Her hand found the back of the wooden bench and for a few seconds the shaken spouse observed the ducks swim in the calm water. She lit the smoke, took a long drag and immediately coughed.
"Fuck ... fuck!" she hacked and with a cry of heartache she threw the smoldering cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out. A mere millisecond later, the lighter flew towards the pond and the tranquility of nature was completely shattered. The ducks startled by the piercing sound and intrusive splash quacked angrily as they flew away.
Mari dejectedly sat on the bench and watched them disappear. The sun's light faded, and it was dusk. She wrung her hands and started to talk, "Fuck all this bullshit with the doctors, insurance, bills, and—Dylan." She paused, and almost crying continued, "I'm upset with the bandages on his face, and then I try to enjoy his lovely little cock and it doesn't work. It's probably the meds, but what about me? I need some loving. Shit, this is all so overwhelming. I wish I had a crystal ball to see what the future holds, because I don't have a clue what to do."
Eisley
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