tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46020001129511355252024-03-13T23:17:25.179-07:00Paradevo's Devotee StoriesLeehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15877518326438146749noreply@blogger.comBlogger207125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-25735641028063063682023-12-20T21:28:00.000-08:002023-12-20T21:28:30.017-08:00New Audiobook!<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixD6qzyda7PgYF2pslzOFXO-6lPDHrvny3Pf4VBWPl3lJKrf96kFiDC8YJWTC0DmmCZHYnB04F0vBogQEslfksWIBO8JSyULxoKxo31_sEuZHaeKOLjNY3P9U1rhbKL59gOY30PV-E3sSJSNmxnrU8UhptkWybR17Q92GJZudHbdRfvxTPJJXes6_YDpD9/s2400/GoodLooking_Audio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2400" data-original-width="2400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixD6qzyda7PgYF2pslzOFXO-6lPDHrvny3Pf4VBWPl3lJKrf96kFiDC8YJWTC0DmmCZHYnB04F0vBogQEslfksWIBO8JSyULxoKxo31_sEuZHaeKOLjNY3P9U1rhbKL59gOY30PV-E3sSJSNmxnrU8UhptkWybR17Q92GJZudHbdRfvxTPJJXes6_YDpD9/s320/GoodLooking_Audio.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p>Hi everyone, thanks so much for supporting my latest book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99PRDBF" target="_blank">Good Looking</a>. I'm happy to announce that it's now available as a professionally produced audiobook. You can find it on Audible, Spotify, or anywhere else you get audiobooks, including some libraries. </p><p><a href="https://www.audible.com/pd/Good-Looking-Audiobook/B0CQDBPC3D" target="_blank">Here is the direct link on Audible</a>. If you get the ebook on Amazon, there's a big discount. </p><p>And if anyone wants a free review copy in exchange for an honest review, I'm happy to share promo codes. Just let me know! </p><p>The same goes for my previous two books, which are also available in audio. You guys, all these narrators are so good, and they make the stories even more devvy. Check them out!</p>Devo Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01598615876422844043noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-59336282310604992912023-12-07T08:20:00.000-08:002023-12-07T08:20:32.489-08:00Thank you for supporting The Walled Garden!<p>Hi PD blog,</p><p>Thank you so much to everyone who has been buying and reading my new dev romance novella, <i><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/202692610-the-walled-garden">The Walled Garden</a></i> - it's been so exciting to see all of the support. </p><p>I'm checking back in with a few updates. First, the paperback edition is now available through more etailers: <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/202692610-the-walled-garden/get_a_copy">check out this link for a full list of purchase options</a>.</p><p>Also, if you've already read <i>The Walled Garden,</i> please do take a minute to leave a rating/review on <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/202692610-the-walled-garden">Goodreads</a> or <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Walled-Garden-Romance-Jazz-Age-ebook/dp/B0CNZPQQRD">Amazon</a>. It really helps!</p><p>Finally, to say thank you - I haven't been able to make time to draw Helena & Michael yet, but I did find a cute sketch of Roy and Asher from <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Shadowboxing-Rowan-Mai-ebook/dp/B08TR64BYK">Shadowboxing</a></i> that I never shared. Enjoy!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlfjvtAL8KG1XOonokf3u36tfLvk0RIz6rbMIrL9TAvlegoEJdMU4noTn1o0Qg9OVhJXA2c6Dto3Zi5axPg7EOWAKof0PHmlLDG-EDoLoRgAZN3Z3_-LPAKbHlsBjUW9Vg1hdFNAuTPoscKy4V4GE8oDeMVHbBplvLSy47oqD0udaeFncBnc2JRqMe9c/s900/202001asherroy%20final%20ty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="900" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlfjvtAL8KG1XOonokf3u36tfLvk0RIz6rbMIrL9TAvlegoEJdMU4noTn1o0Qg9OVhJXA2c6Dto3Zi5axPg7EOWAKof0PHmlLDG-EDoLoRgAZN3Z3_-LPAKbHlsBjUW9Vg1hdFNAuTPoscKy4V4GE8oDeMVHbBplvLSy47oqD0udaeFncBnc2JRqMe9c/w400-h400/202001asherroy%20final%20ty.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>- R </p>Rowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08463564632660683887noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-34636766063700412902023-11-26T07:57:00.000-08:002023-11-26T08:05:55.272-08:00New Book Release: The Walled Garden (a.k.a. Jazz Age!)<p>Hi PD,</p><p>I'm very happy to announce the release of my newest dev romance, <i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CNZPQQRD"><b>The Walled Garden</b></a></i>. "Jazz Age" has always been the story that received the most requests for a sequel, and I've finally expanded it into a 43,000-word novella! It's chock-full of romantic longing, 1920s glamour, eccentric friends and family, and of course devvy details.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CNZPQQRD" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cover art featuring a black-and-white, 1920s photo of a glamorous, dark-haired woman in profile" border="0" data-original-height="2778" data-original-width="1800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifjtbiM00U4HXFlLOoCzStUggOAQhuNPuOXjn_XuNcbtNRuhFrbaBb88199nOy_aM6YPxuvAYJXk_YK09yGI7APyGob-KYCeDAvx9zTFO-qeo4alVl9qE9S645Nm3BVmq50wbvMNFWtc7CW8EDbbr_ldV7RnCLfsdPC7C9kedECBx_JSbLUxZAisb0I2s/w207-h320/acjohnston%20cajaeric%20edit3ltfont.jpg" title="The Walled Garden Cover Art" width="207" /></a></div><div><br /></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CNZPQQRD"><b>Buy the ebook/paperback on Amazon</b></a></li></ul><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><a href="https://paradevostories.blogspot.com/2019/09/jazz-age-part-i.html">Preview: read the original "Jazz Age"</a> on the PD stories blog</li></ul></h3><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><p>1922: Helena De Vries is an East Coast heiress dispatched to
Southern California, where she wants to help her eccentric aunt establish a
museum—while her parents aim for her to court young men of suitable stature.
Lonely and dissatisfied, Helena flees a glittering soirée, only to encounter a
man who presents her with an impossible appeal.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Thoughtful, witty, and kind, Michael Byrne is a son of one
of the nation’s wealthiest families, yet has lived his entire life confined to
one wing of the Byrne mansion. Born with cerebral palsy and deemed incapable of
public appearance, Michael has never been allowed to meet anyone like Helena.
For him, their friendship is an unexpected gift. </p><p class="MsoNormal">But after the first sparks of warmth—and desire—Helena finds
herself longing for more. Equally afraid to expose their affection to public censure
and to give Michael promises that she might not be able to fulfill, Helena faces
an irresolvable dilemma: how can you confess your love for a man who isn’t
supposed to exist?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>The Walled Garden </i>is a sparkling, lush, and sensual
Jazz Age romance novella, featuring a rich cast of characters who struggle to
reconcile exacting social expectations and the demands of the heart.</p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
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<p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>Please read and enjoy -- and if you can, leave a review on Amazon or <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/202693532-the-walled-garden">Goodreads</a> to help the book get off the ground! <3<p></p><div>- R</div>Rowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08463564632660683887noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-62892921567102721742023-09-02T06:53:00.001-07:002023-09-02T06:53:33.666-07:00Good Looking Preview chapter 2<p> Thanks everyone who has read and reviewed <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99PRDBF" target="_blank">Good Looking</a> so far! You guys are the best. </p><p>Here is the second chapter, where we get the dev's point of view. </p><p><br /></p><p>Chapter 2</p><p>Abby</p><p>There’s this guy. I can’t take my eyes off him. </p><p>The first day of my Brit lit class, I’m sitting there quietly, looking over the syllabus and thinking about how I’m going to manage all the assigned reading and writing with my rehearsal schedule when there’s a clattering along the side of the lecture hall. Somehow I just know what that sound is. A second later, I look up to see a white cane hitting the backs of the fixed chairs and my attention is drawn like a magnet to the guy holding the cane, the most arrestingly, strikingly handsome guy I have ever seen. I mean, most girls might look at him and see an average looking white guy with brown hair and brown eyes, but they would be so, so mistaken. His hair is slightly curly and he has that clean-cut, boyish look that I always go for. But it’s not only that. </p><p>It’s because he’s blind. </p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p><p>I watch him walk halfway down the lecture hall then whack his cane against the chair on the end of my row and sit down a few seats away from me. I feel a flush ripple over my entire body, and even while I’m enjoying it, I also feel a stab of resentment for how much I’m reacting to this guy I don’t know at all. </p><p>Down at the front of the lecture hall, Professor Roesman introduces himself and starts lecturing, but I hardly hear a word. I’m watching this guy, but trying not to be too obvious about it. It’s rude to stare, even if the person you’re staring at can’t look back at you. Maybe even more so in that case. And anyway, I’m pretty sure this guy can see at least a little. His eyes are clear, no scarring, and he sometimes seems to be focusing on things, even though he doesn’t take out a notebook and start writing like everyone else, but sits with his hands in his lap, running them over and over his thighs.</p><p>Why is he here? It feels like a sign of something, although I’m not sure exactly what. Here I am, trying to get through my senior year, certainly not expecting anything from this lit class I’m taking as an elective, and this hottie sits down practically next to me. </p><p>Just let him go, I tell myself. He probably has a girlfriend already. Or a boyfriend, who am I to judge? He doesn’t want to be bothered with some random girl in his class. But I already know that I’m going to find a way to talk to him after the lecture. I can’t let this opportunity pass me by. There are so few guys I’m attracted to like this.</p><p>I’m a devotee.</p><p>Hardly anyone even knows what that word means, or that people like me exist. I thought I was the only one until a very kind therapist talked me through it when I was eighteen. I’m attracted to people with disabilities. Blind guys most of all. I’m not a sadist; I don’t want to make anyone suffer or watch them struggle, but there’s something about a blind guy that is endlessly fascinating and oh so sexy. </p><p>Professor Roesman reads through all the assignments for the class, including two essays. The guy at the end of the row gets more agitated listening to this, shifting around in his seat nervously. Where is his note taker? The CSD should have assigned someone to him for each of his classes. That’s what Ted had.</p><p>No, I can’t think about Ted. I try my best to banish all thoughts of him from my mind. Ok, so I will talk to Mr. Sexy sitting almost next to me, but I can’t let him know that I’m a devotee, and I absolutely can’t ever let him know that my ex-boyfriend is also blind. I’ll just say hello to be friendly, then let him go on his way. He probably doesn’t want to talk to me at all anyway.</p><p>At the end of class, though, he surprises me by getting up and walking down to the front of the lecture hall. By the time I’ve gathered up all my things and followed him down, he’s already in the middle of a conversation with the professor.</p><p>“…so the CSD should have contacted you…” I hear him say as I edge toward the lectern, pushing against the tide of other students leaving.</p><p>“The what?” Prof Roesman sounds impatient and irritated.</p><p>“The Center for Students with Disabilities. They were supposed to send you an email?”</p><p> “I never read my email,” Roesman declares, as if that’s a sign of how important and smart he is. What an asshole. Would it kill him to be even slightly accommodating?</p><p>“Ok…well, um…they were supposed to order me the novels on tape but only the ones for the second half of the semester have come in, the ones for the first week aren’t here yet. And, uh, I was supposed to have a note taker in class with me but they’re not here, I don’t know why, and um, I don’t know what I should do.” </p><p>“I don’t know, try talking to this ‘center’ or whatever again.” Roesman gathers up his papers and puts them in his bag.</p><p>“But I really need this course to graduate.”</p><p>“None of this is my problem. If you’ll excuse me, I see the next class is coming in, so we all have to leave now.”</p><p>I can’t believe Roesman is giving this guy the brush-off. What is he supposed to do? If the prof won’t help him, I have to do something. I step forward and put my hand on his arm. He startles slightly.</p><p>“Um, excuse me? I can share my notes with you, if you want.” </p><p>“What?” He turns toward me, frowning in confusion. His eyes swim around and my stomach does a flip-flop.</p><p>“I mean, I’m taking this class too and I can help you out if you want. Let’s go in the hallway to talk about it. The next class is coming in. Here, take my arm.” I push my elbow into his hand and he follows me up the stairs out to the hallway. My heart is hammering wildly. No, I tell myself, this is not flirting. He needs help and I’m in a position to give it. I’m not going to be creepy or expect anything in return.</p><p>“This ok?” I ask when we reach the hallway. He shrugs. It’s noisy and crowded but there isn’t anywhere better nearby. “I can share my notes with you,” I say again.</p><p>“Sure, thanks.” He doesn’t sound too enthusiastic.</p><p>I plow on anyway. “And you said you’re missing the first few books? Do you want me to read them to you?”</p><p>“No, it’s ok, I couldn’t ask you to do that.” He slides his eyes around, and now I’m sure he has some vision. Is he trying to see me? I feel all fluttery being so close to him.</p><p>“I really don’t mind,” I insist. “I have to read it myself anyway. And I’m a theater major, so it’s good practice for me. I’m Abby, by the way.”</p><p>“Nick.” He sticks out his hand, waiting for me to take it. “Nice to meet you.” I give his hand a firm shake, holding just a second longer than usual. Does he feel that little spark too? Maybe, because for the first time he smiles, just the cutest grin. It nearly strikes me dead on the spot. I will never forgive myself if I don’t get to know this guy. Isn’t that what college is for? I have to shoot my shot.</p><p>“Hey, it’s almost lunchtime and I’m starving. Wanna go get something to eat?”</p><p>“I’m on the dining plan…” I know exactly what he means by this. His parents are paying a shit-ton of money for him to eat every meal in the dorm cafeteria. Eating at a restaurant means effectively paying twice for the same meal. </p><p>“Which dorm?”</p><p>“Probus Hall.”</p><p>“Oh, cool! I lived there my first two years but now I’m off campus. Let’s eat there! I can pay for a single meal. It’ll be fun to go back. I’ve been missing it.” This is a bald-faced lie but only the last part. I really did love living there, even if the food is mediocre. I can’t think of any other way to keep this connection going, but Nick goes along with it.</p><p>“Ok, sure, if you don’t mind.” He smiles again and puts his hand out for my arm. “Let’s go.”</p><p>Oh lord, what am I getting myself into?</p><div><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Devo Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01598615876422844043noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-55631696756544956582023-08-29T06:26:00.000-07:002023-08-29T06:26:23.312-07:00Good Looking preview<p> Thanks to everyone for the kind words and for pre-ordering my latest book, <a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99PRDBF" target="_blank">Good Looking</a>. The wait is over, it's live now! Thanks also to all my awesome beta readers. I worked really hard on this one, and I hope you all enjoy it. If you like it, please leave a review, it helps a lot. </p><div style="background-color: white;"><div><span style="color: #606060; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99PRDBF" target="_blank">Good Looking</a> </i>by Lucy May Lennox</span></span></div><div><span style="color: #606060; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><b><i><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99PRDBF" target="_blank"><br /></a></i></b></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #606060; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C99PRDBF" target="_blank">Order on Amazon</a></span></span></div><div><span style="color: #606060; font-family: Trebuchet MS, Trebuchet, Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 13.2px;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/180757397-good-looking" target="_blank">Follow on Goodreads</a></span></span></div></div><p><br /></p><p>Here is the first chapter:</p><p><br /></p><p>1993: Somewhere in the Midwest</p><p>Nick</p><p>My brother and I have always been the center of attention. When we were fourteen, all kinds of doctors and researchers spent over a year studying us, because Nate had gone blind and I could still see, even though we’re identical twins. I don't know what they were hoping to find, exactly. It's not like we have secret psychic powers, and I could transmit images to him. Most of the tests seemed boring and pointless, like having us try to solve a Rubik's cube and see who could do it faster, me with colors or Nate with Braille. Nate always won, but that's just him. I bet if we raced now he'd still win. </p><p>Sometimes the researchers would ask hesitantly how it affected us, like if Nate was jealous or resentful or anything, and they always seemed surprised when he said no. But this wasn't because Nate's such a great guy. I had already shown symptoms of the same condition. We had always had trouble seeing in the dark, and by the time we were ten or so we both had blind spots. It’s just that his were bigger than mine. The way he figured it, he was more advanced, and it was only a matter of time before I caught up. </p><p>Nate was right. By the time I was sixteen, I could hardly see anything at all except a few pinholes in big static-y gray patches, like a badly tuned TV set. The studies stopped. </p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p><p>I guess by then we were just two blind kids, identical twins or not. I never did find out if the studies came to anything. A few of the researchers sent us copies of their essays once they were published, but in print. How lame is that? They knew we’re both blind now, but they didn't even bother to send the results in an accessible format. Our dad offered to read one out loud to us but even listening to the title, “A Study in Differential Visual Acuity in Monozygotic Juveniles with Retinitis Pigmentosa Blah Blah Blah,” we could die of boredom.</p><p>Still, all that made our time at Knob Park High School kind of eventful for us, and we weren't sure what we wanted to do after so we ended up for two years at Onasca Community College still living at home. But by then life in our boring little Midwest town with hovering parents was unbearable. So that's why we transferred to Calstock State University in Allenville, living on our own for the first time as juniors, two guys squashed into one tiny dorm room.</p><p>We move into the dorm two weeks before classes start, long before the other students. Predictably, things pretty much suck at first, and it’s only the thought of Mom hanging around behind us saying “Are you suuuuuure you're okaaaaaaaay?” that keeps us from going back home. </p><p>Our first day on campus, someone from the Center for Students with Disabilities takes us on a tour so we can get oriented. We follow along behind three whirring electric wheelchairs as the student worker says the names of various campus buildings in a bored voice. I assume he’s gesturing at things we can’t see. Then we all crowd into the tiny CSD office at the edge of campus to register for the upcoming semester.</p><p>The admin lady who insists on meeting me and Nate together instead of one at a time pushes us to take all the same classes. I think it’s so the CSD would have half as much work with arranging for note taking, transcribing and textbook ordering. We tell her no way. Nate goes for psychology and I choose computer science.</p><p>The next day, everyone else moves into the dorm. We’re the only juniors in the dorm. Everyone else is younger. Calstock doesn’t have nearly enough dorm rooms for all the students, so most people only live on campus for freshman and sophomore years. After that, they take their chances with sketchy rental houses. It’s kind of a tradition for juniors and seniors to get together with five or six friends and rent a house, put a couch on the porch and party all the time.</p><p>The other students in the dorm think we’re creepy. That's the kind of thing that Mom would get mad about if she heard me say it. </p><p>“How do you knooooow?” she'd say. </p><p>Well, I know because I hear the asshole in the room across the hall say so. The day he moves in, he knocks on our door to introduce himself, and Nate answers while I’m hanging up our clothes in the closet. They talk for a minute or so before I go over to introduce myself.</p><p>“Hi, I'm Nick.” </p><p>“Woah, there's two of them!” the asshole says. “Are you both blind?”</p><p>“Yeah,” we say at the same time. </p><p>“Ugh, creepy!”</p><p>“Asshole.” Nate slams the door in his face.</p><p><br /></p><p>A few days later, people on our hall find out we’re twenty-one, and suddenly we become the most popular guys in the dorm. That year of high school we had to repeat for O&M training doesn't seem so bad after all. That’s short for Orientation and Mobility, but basically it means blind skills like using a white cane and how to cross the street without being run over.</p><p>The asshole across the hall knocks on our door one afternoon.</p><p>“Hey man, got any beer? I'll pay you for it.”</p><p>“No,” says Nate, “but I could go get some.”</p><p>“Woah, no way!” says the asshole, whose name is Carson. “But dude, how do you have an ID? Aw man, don't tell me they gave you a driver's license?”</p><p>This is just one of the stupid questions we get all the time. People assume that because we can't drive, we don't have any ID at all. On the other hand, we hardly ever get carded, which was handy when we were younger. </p><p>“Of course I have an ID, dumbass,” says Nate. “It's issued by the state. It's just an ID, not a driver's license. If you're paying, come on, let's go.”</p><p>I hear Nate groping around in the closet for a jacket. We try not to wear the same clothes at the same time but we don't exactly have separate clothes either, just a bunch of interchangeable stuff we share. It's easier that way. </p><p>“Are you coming or what?” Nate asks me.</p><p>“Ok, fine.” It’s not like I have anything else to do.</p><p>We walk caravan-style, with Nate holding Carson's shoulder and me holding Nate's shoulder, both of us with our white canes, trying not to trip each other. I hate doing the caravan. I'm sure it’s quite the spectacle, but there’s no other way unless I’m willing to risk wandering off after the wrong set of footsteps. Which has happened more than once, but anyway. </p><p>We walk out the back of the dorm, left to the intersection, then right two more blocks to Village Mart. I'm trying to get better about remembering things like that. The student worker from CSD who gave us our tour had been very emphatic about showing us the way there, although at the time we weren't sure why.</p><p>“Are you sure Village Mart has beer?” Nate asks as we straggle across the intersection, tires squealing on all sides as Carson leads us straight into traffic.</p><p>“Dude, are you kidding me? That's like mainly all they have.”</p><p>Nate turns back to me. “You hear that, Nick? We've been cheated! These past few days, we've only been buying chips and candy. Shit! Why didn't that asshole from the CSD tell us?”</p><p>When we get to the door, Carson stops. “Uh, one of you has to buy it on your own. If they see me with you, they’ll try to card me too.”</p><p>“Gotcha. Whaddaya want?” Nate replies confidently.</p><p>Carson hesitates. Did he think this all the way through? “A case of Natty Light, I guess?”</p><p>“Ugh, gross,” I say.</p><p>“Hey, it’s his money,” Nate says. “Nick, go get a case of Natty Light.”</p><p>“What? Why me? No!”</p><p>“I’ll stay by the door with Carson and wait for you.”</p><p>“That’s a stupid plan. You think they won’t notice the guy who looks exactly like me hanging around with the underage dude? If we fuck this up, they’ll never let us buy beer here again.”</p><p>“Yeah, cuz Village Mart’s so close to the dorm, they’re super strict,” Carson adds.</p><p>“Whose side are you on?” Nate asks irritably. “Ok, fine, we’ll go in together. You wait outside, genius.”</p><p>“Ok, so where’s the beer?” I ask, already dreading this outing.</p><p>“In the refrigerators along the back wall, I think?” Carson’s answer does not inspire confidence. “And there’s always cases stacked up in the aisles in the middle. The second from the end. No, maybe the third?”</p><p>“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” I push the glass door open, not waiting to check if Nate is following me or not. He’s pretty good at getting around on his own though, better than I am, even though he can’t see at all and I still have a few blurry pinholes. Two, maybe three on a good day.</p><p>We walk in the door and those pinholes vanish. I mean, I assume the store has some lights on. The other customers are not stumbling around in the dark. But for me, it’s like walking into a pitch-black cave. </p><p>I listen for the impatient tapping of Nate’s cane as he pushes ahead of me. Instead of heading for the farthest aisle like we usually do, he turns suddenly into the unknown middle of the store. The tapping slows down as he runs the tip along the floor, poking at something.</p><p>“Think this is it?”</p><p>I reach down and feel the edge of an object that is definitely a cardboard box with metal cans of something inside. </p><p>“Sure, why not.” </p><p>We’re going to feel awfully stupid if we go through all this just to buy case of pop. Nate picks up the box and we both sort of shuffle together to the front of the store. It’s not hard to locate the cash register, chattering away, printing out receipts.</p><p>“Can I see some ID,” the cashier says tonelessly, not even making it a question. We both pull out our cards and hold them up. At least now we know we’re buying some kind of alcohol.</p><p>“That’ll be $6.99,” he says in the same bored voice.</p><p>I stand there, not really paying attention. I assume Nate will hand over the money, but I don’t hear anything.</p><p>“$6.99,” the cashier says again, now with a slight edge in his voice.</p><p>“C’mon, pay and let’s go,” Nate adds.</p><p>“Me? I didn’t bring my wallet.” </p><p>“What? Didn’t—” I can tell Nate is about to say, Didn’t that asshole give you money to buy beer for him? but he catches himself just in time, before the cashier can guess what’s actually going on.</p><p>“Didn’t you bring money?” I ask, feeling increasingly nervous. I like buying chips here in the afternoon. I don’t want to get banned for life.</p><p>“All I have is coins,” Nate says. He pulls off his backpack and I can hear him rummaging around, then the sound of an avalanche of coins being poured out onto the counter.</p><p>“Why are you carrying all that around?”</p><p>“Shut up. I was going to take it to that counting machine in the bank but we came here first. I’m not sure it’s enough. You don’t have anything in your pockets?”</p><p>I dig through my pockets. Behind me I can hear several people in line, sighing and shifting around impatiently. I know Nate can hear them too, because he turns to face me and as he does, he knocks some of the coins onto the floor. I hear the tink-tink-tink of pennies hitting linoleum.</p><p>“Oh, did I drop something?” Nate says, speaking a lot slower than usual, and I know he did it on purpose, just to mess with the people behind us. If they’re going to get impatient, he’s going to slow things down even more. He knows they won’t yell at a blind guy, even if they really want to. </p><p>“Nick? Are you there? Can you give me a hand?” He plays up the fake helplessness outrageously, but of course everyone takes him seriously. </p><p>I don’t move. There’s no way I’m touching that gross floor to search for a few pennies. I’m about to tell him to cut the crap but in the second I hesitate, some other dude pushes in front of me.</p><p>“Hey man, no problemo. I got it,” says a voice from near the floor. “Here ya go.” He has the slow, mellow tone of a pothead. “Lemme help you count it.” Now the voice is back at normal standing height. </p><p>So Nate, some random hesher, and the cashier meticulously count out $6.99 in coins, including two extra nickels from the floor, plus three dimes and a quarter from my pockets. </p><p>The chattering register spits out a receipt. Nate grabs the case and pushes the back of one hand against my elbow. We shuffle slowly out the door, ignoring all the other customers who are surely staring at us.</p><p>“Ugh, Michelob Lite! Blech!” It’s the first thing Carson says when we get outside.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” Nate says loftily, as if he knew what he bought and didn’t just grab a case at random. “This is my beer. You didn’t even give us any money for it, asshole. If you carry it back to the dorm, I might let you have one. Might. Unless you don’t want any.”</p><p>“Hey, hey, I didn’t say I wouldn’t drink it. Fine, I’ll carry it.”</p><p>So that’s how Nate and Carson become best friends.</p><p><br /></p><p>My first week of classes is a disaster. That one tour with the CSD doesn't keep me from getting lost every five minutes. </p><p>Monday morning I get up extra early so I know I’ll be on time for my first class. But I don’t even make it to the dining hall for breakfast. I go down the stairs, but I can’t get across the lobby to the cafeteria entrance. There’s some kind of barrier that makes a metallic clang when I hit it with my cane. All I can see is a white blur. What the hell is this thing in the middle of the hallway? I’m sure it wasn’t here yesterday. I try to walk around it but I can’t find the end. I go back in the other direction, same thing. </p><p>“Um, excuse me?” I can hear a few people walking nearby. No one answers. “Excuse me?” I say even louder. “How do we get in the dining hall?”</p><p>A guy answers. “Dude, just go around to the other entrance.”</p><p>There’s another entrance? Shit! “Where is it?”</p><p>“It’s right over there,” a girl says, sounding annoyed. Right over where? But already their footsteps are getting further away. Now I really feel like an idiot.</p><p>I retreat back up to our room.</p><p>“That was fast.” Nate’s brushing his teeth at the tiny sink in the corner. </p><p>I tell him what happened.</p><p>“Oh yeah, Carson said there’s some kind of welcome event in the lobby tonight. They must have set up something for that.”</p><p>“What the hell, man!” I can’t believe I retreated so easily. We’ve both been excited to come to Calstock, to live on our own for the first time, but the reality is intimidating.</p><p>“Come on, let’s go get breakfast. I’m sure we can figure out the other entrance. Never give up, right?” Good ol’ Nate, at least it’s easier with him here. That’s how we got through high school. He was always there to push me on when I got discouraged. </p><p>We wander around the sprawling maze of the dorm and eventually the smell of bacon and burnt coffee leads us to the dining hall via the scenic route.</p><p>“You got this, man,” Nate says after I bolt down my breakfast. “No retreat. Show ’em what you can do.”</p><p>“Thanks. You too.”</p><p>I’d give him a fist bump or high five or something, but we’d probably fumble around or slap each other by accident, so I just say goodbye.</p><p><br /></p><p>My first class is Numerical Analysis, which I’m already dreading because I’m not great at math. I walk across campus on the route I’ve already learned, but end up in the wrong classroom. Luckily before class starts I overhear students around me talking about booking time on the telescope and realize I’ve wandered into Astronomy 101 by accident. I check the room number and some guy tells me to go two doors down to the left. </p><p>At least the guy gives me decent directions. I try what I hope is the correct room.</p><p>“Ah, you must be Nick Bauer,” a deep voice at the front of the classroom booms as soon as I walk in. “I’m Professor Agarwal. Come, let us review the CSD requirements before I start the class.”</p><p>Prof Agarwal is on top of things. Apparently there was another blind student a few years ago majoring in computer science, so Prof Agarwal already has the assignments on floppy disks. I’ll get them from the CSD then use them on my computer with a screenreader. I can submit homework through the campus intranet. </p><p>After that first class, I start to think that I’ve got a handle on things. But the rest of my classes don’t go as smoothly.</p><p>The CSD was supposed to contact all my profs in advance and help them prepare accessible materials and other accommodations for me, but their service is, shall we say, spotty at best. </p><p>Aside from Prof Agarwal, my other profs sound shocked and annoyed when I tell them what I need: assignments on disks or submitted in advance to the CSD so I can access them with a screenreader, note takers, and a list of textbooks sent to the CSD to order on tape. But when I go to the CSD to pick up my required texts, the bored work study student at the front desk informs me that half the tapes they ordered are delayed for some reason.</p><p>The worst is my British literature course. I thought I finished my general education requirements at Onasca but apparently my one semester of world history wasn’t good enough for Calstock. I’m forced to pick a humanities class, and British literature seems promising. I like to read, although lately I’ve been listening to books on tape since reading print has gotten harder.</p><p>The first lecture, I sit there doing nothing because the CSD assigned note taker doesn’t show up, or if they did, they never identify themself to me. Who does that?</p><p>I grow increasingly anxious as Professor Roesman reads through the syllabus. How am I ever going to get through so much reading and writing? </p><div><br /></div><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Devo Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01598615876422844043noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-16045475504968408632023-08-21T07:07:00.002-07:002023-08-29T06:27:23.600-07:00New Novel!<p> Hi everyone, Devo Girl here back with another new novel! I'm
getting in on the dev-issance, happy to see so many of our authors
coming out with new books. Actually I've been working on this one for a
really long time and I'm super happy to finally share it with you.</p><br /><div> I chose to write
about a devotee character, which is a bit scary in published fiction,
but I really want to get the positive message out there. The release
date is August 29, but it helps a lot if you pre-order. We talk a lot
here about changing the public narrative on devs, so this is my tiny
effort in that direction. Please support!</div><div><br /></div><div><b><i><a href="http://redirect.viglink.com?key=71fe2139a887ad501313cd8cce3053c5&subId=1096964&u=https%3A//www.amazon.com/Good-Looking-Lucy-May-Lennox-ebook/dp/B0C99PRDBF" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Good Looking</a></i></b> by Lucy May Lennox</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Good-Looking-Lucy-May-Lennox-ebook/dp/B0C99PRDBF" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Pre-order on Amazon</a></div><div><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/180757397-good-looking" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">Follow on Goodreads</a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><b>Nick:</b>
College is supposed to be when you figure out who you are, but it’s not
easy when your roommate is your identical twin brother. Nick shares
everything with his brother Nate, including a genetic condition that
causes visual impairment. Nick feels like Nate is better at everything,
including being blind. But when Nick falls for nerdy theater major Abby,
he finally starts to strike out on his own.<br /><br /><b>Abby:</b> That
guy in Abby’s lit class is just her type, not only because he’s sweet
and gorgeous, but because he’s blind. Abby is a devotee—she’s attracted
to people with disabilities. But after her ex rejected her when she came
out to him, she’s scared to reveal the truth of her attraction. How can
she tell Nick he’s not her first blind boyfriend?<br /><br />At a big
Midwestern state university in the 1990s, Nick and Abby stumble towards
adulthood, through awkward parties, regrettable flirtations, frantic
cramming, and poorly planned road trips. It’s college life in all its
exciting, raunchy, disgusting, hilarious glory, set to a 90s alt-rock
soundtrack.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><div>As always, the cover is by an awesome dev artist: <br /></div><div><br /></div><div><img alt="" src="https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51Bd4zZfE3L.jpg" style="max-width: 100%;" /></div>Devo Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01598615876422844043noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-19683662843521911572023-08-14T22:11:00.004-07:002023-08-14T22:12:15.713-07:00Love In Troubled Times<p>Hello blog readers, </p><p>Just wanted to let you know that finally, after about two years of working on this story, "Love in Troubled Times" is now available on Amazon Kindle and KU. I've invested countless hours in this story and have really poured my heart and soul into it. I know it's different from what I've written in the past, and I'm not sure how it will be received, but it is what it is, and I hope that some people will enjoy reading it. If you are like me, a devotee who is attracted to men with SCI and men with walking disabilities, you may enjoy my latest book. My male protagonist wears leg braces and uses crutches to help him with walking, and my female protagonist has no issue with that, just the contrary if you know what I mean. </p><p>Anyhow, if you enjoy "Love in Troubled Times", please let me know and connect with me on IG, FB, or on Goodreads. Thank you for all your support throughout the years!</p><p>Hugs, Dani </p><p><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Love-Troubled-Times-Dani-Deveaux-ebook/dp/B0CFDWC2YV/ref=sr_1_3?crid=4A3RAAUMZBXN&keywords=dani+deveaux&qid=1692075699&sprefix=Dani+Deve%2Caps%2C176&sr=8-3">Love in Troubled Times</a><br /></p><p><br /></p>Danihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18026049667985097651noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-6328345013979491002023-08-09T01:00:00.074-07:002023-08-09T04:50:58.083-07:00The Cove concludes<p>Hi all, </p><p>Thanks for the excited comments last week; I'm glad people are having fun with this story. </p><p>If you missed the first part of "The Cove," an erotic short story set in bohemian Paris in the 1930s: <b style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2023/08/new-short-story-cove.html">click here for The Cove, part 1</a>.</b></p><p style="text-align: left;">This week, we'll pick up with Luc telling his partner Sofie about a heated encounter he had with a wealthy young gentleman on the Côte d’Azur, i.e., the land of fancy beaches...</p><p style="text-align: left;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999;">-----------------------------------</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999;"><br /></span></p><h2 style="text-align: center;">The Cove, part 2</h2><p class="MsoNormal">“When we reached his family villa, his housekeeper looked at
us very strangely, indeed. But Ferdinand put on quite the manner with her and
said only that I was a new friend of his from the town, and that I had come to
see the view. And we swept on past her.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">“The view really was beautiful, seeing the whole sweep of
the coast, all the dark woods and the pale villas and cottages, the turquoise
water below and beyond. And it was curious to see the cove, my cove, from afar;
I tried to picture what I would have looked like, there.<o:p></o:p></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">“But we only saw it for a few minutes together, because Ferdinand
just about yanked me back to his room.” Sofie made a little murmuring noise of
pleasure and pulled closer to Luc, beginning to kiss his neck again.<o:p></o:p></p><p>Luc closed his eyes, trying to concentrate, smiling at her
kisses. “The room was enormous. He slanted all the blinds so no one would be
able to peep in, and it felt like a wonderful cool cave, with white walls and a
big dark bed with acres of linen. And he simply picked me up out of my
wheelchair, in the same gallant way, and put me in that enormous bed, and we took
off our shirts and kissed for a long time.</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p>“I liked that he liked kissing so much; you could tell that
it wasn’t that he was shy, he genuinely just liked kissing and kissing. Then we
took a pause, and drank a little white wine together, and he began to ask me
about myself. Where I was from, whether I was an artist or a musician or a poet,
what kind of art I made, how long I would be in the Côte d’Azur. He listened to
everything very seriously, with his big violet eyes.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Finally he asked, a little shyly again, if I had been born
this way, or if I had been injured—in a fall, perhaps, or after being struck by
a wagon or a car.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I told him that I had been born this way, that there was a
little bubble of blood on my back when I was born, as if I had been wounded, and
that my legs never grew. While I told him this, he started undressing me, with
the same seriousness and lack of apology. That was very nice. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He asked me more. He asked me what I could feel—he touched
me up and down as he asked—and whether I could move my legs at all. And I
explained that I could feel everything above my waist, but only a little below,
and I couldn’t move my legs at all.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie knew all of this already, of course, but she
understood the cue, and was recreating Ferdinand’s exploration of Luc’s body as
he spoke, giving him a series of light strokes on his neck, his shoulder, his
collarbone, his ribs… Luc shivered at the delicacy of her touch, until she
paused with her hands around his waist.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc opened his eyes again then, miming Ferdinand’s reaction.
“‘But wait!’ he exclaimed. If I couldn’t really feel below my waist… and he
looked at me with the greatest confusion. ‘But I saw you… I saw you do everything,’
he said.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I laughed at him a little and said, ‘No, it’s true. For me,
this—’” and here he indicated his pelvis, “‘—is only a pleasant afterthought.
It answers sometimes, but for me, the real pleasure comes from here, or here,
or here…’ As you are proving most admirably,” Luc gasped now to Sofie, who was
renewing her kisses and caresses to his most sensitive spots: his neck, his
shoulders, his nipples. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Mm-hm,” Sofie said happily, listening to his breath grow
faster and faster.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc struggled to continue his narrative, speaking in fits
and starts. “Well, Ferdinand said… that explained… why he had thought that I
was a real prodigy… as I lay there on the beach… for I had hardly touched
myself, as he thought, in the ‘real’ way… And then and there…”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You’re doing marvelously,” Sofie told him, as Luc struggled
to speak, “with the story.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“If only all stories came to life this way,” Luc said
breathlessly. “Well—then and there… Ferdinand embarked on his apprenticeship…
in the fine art of pleasuring a cripple… oh, god, Sofie!” She was bent over him
now, licking and sucking his neck, caressing and occasionally flicking one of
his nipples with her nail. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She listened to his breath, intensifying her motions,
following his pleasure until she felt him begin to tense and shudder below her.
He cried out sharply once, and then again, more softly. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She leaned close to him, pressing her face against his neck,
feeling the shudders move through his body, feeling close and warm and proud,
feeling the throb of her headache now as only another kind of strange
tenderness. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When he was still and his breathing was slowing, his eyes
closed and lips parted, she ran her hands down the sides of his body, enjoying
the smoothness of his skin. She stroked her hands across his slim hips until
she found, with satisfaction, that he was hard now. She circled her hands
around him with relish. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then she released him and reached to fling back the
blankets, making him murmur at the rush of cool air, though he didn’t even open
his eyes. Quickly, she knelt over him; she knew it wouldn’t last long. She bit
her lip; she guided him into her, closing her eyes at the intensity of the
pleasure. She was so wet that she hardly felt pressure, only the thrilling
warmth as he slipped into her and she began to ride him with swift, eager
strokes, leaning her hands on either side of his chest. He stirred and murmured
beneath her, and she reached out one hand to grasp his curls, running her
fingers through the silky hair.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then she moved swiftly again: she lifted herself halfway off
of him and rotated—the twisting sensation inside her made her moan—until she
was facing his legs. Now she lifted one hand to press against herself, and like
this—watching his slender, bent legs knock together gently as she sank and rose
upon his length again and again—she found her climax. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She lowered herself, panting. She was trying to keep him
inside of her, but she could already feel him softening. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Reluctantly, she slid away from him. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She turned and crawled up slowly until she could wrap him in
her arms.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Luc,” she whispered. “Are you awake?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He opened one eye, and then the other. He smiled sleepily in
answer. “You’re too good at this,” he said.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie almost laughed, but she pressed on. “Do you remember
the last time we did this, and you also… <i>answered</i>?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Hmm. Yes? Maybe?” he said questioningly. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But I mean the time you <i>really </i>answered,” she said,
a little urgency entering her voice. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He looked at her blankly, but a hint of suspicion was
beginning to enter his gaze. “Maybe,” he said again. “About two months ago?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes!” Sofie said. “Well… you know how I keep feeling ill
lately? And <i>really </i>ill today? And last week I had to keep telling you to
open the windows anytime we cooked onions?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc’s eyes were widening. “Are you telling me… No. No!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie laughed a little hysterically, her temples throbbing
in time with her laughter. “No, I think it’s true.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc sat bolt upright, pulling Sofie with him, so that she
laughed again, clinging to his shoulders. “I didn’t think that I could <i>do </i>that,”
he said in bewilderment. He clutched at his hair.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, I think you did. Oh, Luc, I think <i>we</i> did it.
But… are you happy? Tell me you’re happy.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Sofie—I think my brain might need a minute to catch up. Or
an hour. I thought I was telling you a dirty story to cheer you up, not
summoning—” he gestured in bewilderment. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Summoning what?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He was searching for words. “The most baffling news—the most
joyful news,” he finally managed. “Truly.” And he kissed her, hard. “I had no
idea…” And she saw that his eyes were filling with tears. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She held him tighter. They kissed again. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She brushed a tear away from her own eye, and then tugged at
him until he lay back down on the pillows with her. She reached down and pulled
the covers up over them, relishing the comforting weight as the blankets
settled. She twined her legs with his, feeling the warm, light, stiff shapes.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You still have to finish the story,” she said imperiously,
“and comfort me in my bed of suffering.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Indeed, I see that you suffer,” he said, eyeing her
contented smile and half-lidded eyes.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes, until you finish the story. But it really would be
nice if you rubbed my temples.” (Luc did so.) “So, what happened with you and
Ferdinand?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc sighed. “Oh, he was sweet, and sad. We started to see
each other so much that he all but had me move in with him for a week. That was
the beginning of the end. It was impossible to keep things from his sister, of
course; even if she didn’t see something, the housekeeper would. Eventually his
sister demanded that Ferdinand either give me up, or else return to their
family in Bourgogne.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I think she was a little afraid of me—she was definitely
confused by me—but despite everything, I never had the sense that she actually <i>disliked</i>
me. I think she liked Ferdinand <i>very </i>much, and if it had been up to her,
she would rather he stayed happy. But she was very afraid of word getting back
to their parents.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie gave a disappointed sigh. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc said, “I think Ferdinand was ready to do something rash.
I didn’t want to be the cause of something irreversible. I was very fond of
him, but, you know… I didn’t think either of us needed to fall on a sword for
the other. The summer had progressed far enough that it was reasonable for me
to make my own exit. I went to him and told him that it was no longer possible
for me to keep paying into the lease on the cottage, and that I needed to go
back to Paris because there was work that I could only do in my studio. He said
that if I was going to Paris, then he would follow me. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Finally I had to tell him straight out that I thought it
was not wise for us to try to tie ourselves together, that we were too
different, and that I could not be responsible for what would happen to him if
he tried to follow me. He sat and listened to me. He didn’t cry, but I could
see he was trying not to. He looked wretched—so pale.” Luc pushed his thumb
into his lower lip, rubbing it pensively. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Both that time and the last time we said good-bye, he said
very little. I think he was taking it as a point of pride not to say anything
like, I was breaking his heart, or that he had been willing to give up everything
for me. I think he was trying to learn from the experience, and I respected
that very much. I think he knew that his childishness was his weak point, and
that I had been aware of it all along.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie pressed her chin into his shoulder, and stroked a hand
down one of his thin thighs, pressing it into hers. “Did you ever see him
again? When did all of this happen, anyway?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc squinted. “That summer was four years ago. To be honest,
I was relieved when he didn’t start trying to track me down in Montparnasse at
once. I imagined he had gone back to the family business in Bourgogne,
melancholy and chastened but full of sweet memories.” Sofie snorted gently.
“But he did come and find me one year later, in Montparnasse, in the fall. I
was out when he first tried to find me, but he left a message with one of my
studio-mates. We met for dinner the next day. He looked at me so hungrily when
he saw me again, it gave me a pang. He said that his sister had just gotten
married, but that he was still evading his mother’s traps. He spoke very simply
and with not very much emotion; I could tell again that he was trying not to be
childish or extravagant. He asked me how my work was going; he didn’t ask me if
I was seeing anyone, or try to invite himself back to my studio.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But we talked for a long time, and finally he said, with a
trace of his old stammering, that he had to tell me that he felt he had learned
so much from me. I laughed and said that I didn’t think I would ever advise
anyone to take me as an example of sensible conduct. But he said, no. He said,
‘I have always thought that there was something wrong with me, something
lacking or twisted, because I have only ever liked men. I have always been
trying to make up for that. Often, before I met you, I smoked and drank too
much, and sulked, and refused to see anyone. But then I met you, and I saw how
you lived your life in a way that embraced the fullest possibility of who you
are, both in body and in love, despite whatever might be thought of how you
look and act. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“When you turned me away last year, you were right that I
cannot live without the support of my family. I don’t have the skills or
temperament to be an artist or a wanderer, to start over from nothing. So I am
still trying to find a way of living, a shape of living, that looks anything
like yours—within the outlines of my life. And I still think so often of what I
first thought when I saw you moving yourself down the cliff to the cove, and
then how I felt when I saw that you were—only swimming. I am trying, now, to choose
to swim.’<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I embraced him, of course,” Luc said. “And I thought about
how wonderful his kisses were, and how lovely it would be to spend an afternoon
half-undressed and only kissing him again. But both of us knew that it would
only open up his wounds again. So we had dinner, and he came back to see my
studio just long enough to buy a little sculpture from me. And then we said
good-bye, and I haven’t heard from him since.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie was quiet for a while, only stroking Luc’s legs, until
she said, “Do you think he would be disappointed now to know that you are with
a woman? And…”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“And expecting a child, at that? A miraculous child, I
should say,” Luc said, smiling. Then he shrugged. “Very likely, yes. But then,
I would hope, he would chide himself for having expectations about how I ought
to live my life. Life shouldn’t be dictated by forms.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I hope you aren’t expending all of your wisdom in this one
conversation,” Sofie said. “You need to save some for when the child arrives.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“A child!” Luc exclaimed. He stared at the ceiling, his lips
slightly parted, as if in wonder. Then he turned his head to Sofie. “You don’t
think he’ll be sickly, do you?” he asked anxiously. “Or she.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“<i>You’re </i>not sickly,” Sofie pointed out.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc looked as if he wanted to disagree, but could find
nothing to say. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie went on, “And anyway, children can be sickly for many
reasons, and you can make yourself go mad trying to figure out the reason every
time.” She had been the eldest girl in a family of five children, and
responsible for the younger children for many years. While her parents had been
inclined to superstition and curative charms, the ribbons and murky bottles had
lost their awe for Sofie as she became older. She had learned to rely mainly on
her patience and a deep-felt sense of intuition as to what might comfort a
child.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes,” Luc said, “but… you know what I mean.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie rested her hands around Luc’s waist, at the border
where his body went from sleek and muscular to thin and still. When she had
first gotten to know him, she had childishly thought that the skin below his
waist would be cold, but of course, he was warm and velvety all over. She
stroked him. “I do, but don’t you think that if our child is like you, then
we’ll know better than anyone how to be of help?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc made an unconvinced <i>hmm</i>. “Are you really not
concerned at all?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“No, I’m lucky because you’re a sculptor,” Sofie replied
teasingly. “You already have all the skills you need to be a father. You know
what it’s like to apply all of your skills and desires, only to learn that the
shape inside has other ideas.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At this, Luc had to grin.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But I think the conclusion that would be the saddest for
both of us,” Sofie said musingly, “would be if our child is absolutely
conventional. Imagine she wants to be a secretary or a banker. What would we
do? We would have to write a letter to Ferdinand and beg him to teach us how to
raise a bourgeois. Imagine, Uncle Ferdinand!” She said this with real
excitement, her pale green eyes wide.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc laughed, but there was still worry in his eyes. He
nudged her shoulder with a fist. “And—aren’t you concerned about your career?” he
pursued. Because women liked to confide in him, and because he had never
imagined that he would be a father, he had learned to be sympathetic to women
in a way that most men in their circle hadn’t. No matter how unconventional
they thought themselves, the men of Montparnasse who slept with women, assumed a
woman would care for the house, the cooking, and the children as soon as there
were any. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie pursed her lips, which meant that she was concerned.
But all she said was, “We had our two years of fun, and now we’ll learn to manage.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc said, more lightly now, “Does this mean that we have to
get <i>married</i>?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, heavens! I suppose we must. Or ought to. Oh, it all
sounds like a lot of fuss.” She slapped one hand down on the pillow. “There,
that’s enough talk of responsibility. We must celebrate!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“And what shall we do to celebrate?” His smile was lazy.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In an instant, Sofie rolled on top of him, pinning his
shoulders with her hands, and fixing his eyes with her own. “I think you
already know!”</p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999;">-----------------------------------</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="text-align: center;">And that's all from Luc and Sofie for now! Let me know what you think; reactions are always helpful and appreciated.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="text-align: center;">If you enjoy my dev fiction, please check out <a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/search/label/*Author%20Rowan">my other stories on the blog</a>, or my M/M novel<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Shadowboxing-Rowan-Mai-ebook/dp/B08TR64BYK/"> <i>Shadowboxing</i></a>, which is available as an ebook or paperback. And stay posted for updates about my upcoming book releases! Thank you all for your support - I have so much fun writing for the PD community.</span></p>Rowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08463564632660683887noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-7592829526782753282023-08-02T02:00:00.016-07:002023-08-08T13:09:00.148-07:00New short story: The CoveHi, PD folks - <br /><br /><br />I'm still around and writing, just busy and easily distracted by different projects. But I'm happy to say that the upshot of being easily distracted is that I'm now almost done with not one, but two dev novels/novellas that I'll be publishing as ebooks. One is the long-delayed expansion of <a href="http://paradevostories.blogspot.com/search/label/Jazz%20Age"><i>Jazz Age</i></a> (~40k words), and one is the complete <a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/search/label/B%C3%A9r%C3%A9nice"><i>Bérénice</i></a> (~30k words). So, both historical romances featuring male leads with cerebral palsy. (But yes, Bérénice's flirty, blind former lover Vincent shows up more, too. :) )<br /><br /><div>In the meantime, here's yet another product of distraction... I wrote a short story in the same setting as <i>Bérénice</i>, bohemian Paris in the 1930s. This is probably also the horniest thing I've ever written, soooo... I hope you all enjoy it?! I'll be posting it in two parts:<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p><br /></o:p></div><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p><br /></o:p></div><span style="color: #999999;"><div style="text-align: center;">-----------------------------------</div></span><div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: left; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-decoration-thickness: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"><o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;"><o:p>The Cove, part 1</o:p></h2><div><o:p><br /></o:p></div><div><o:p><p class="MsoNormal">Sofie was in bed with a stomachache and a headache, and
cross about it; she wasn’t used to being ill and slothful.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc was incredulous at first and teased her when he found
her still in bed. But she snapped back at him, and when he realized she really
was feeling poorly, he apologized a dozen times, covered her face with kisses,
and brought her tea. He put in too many leaves and steeped them too long, so it
was bitter, but she drank it anyway.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He leaned forward in his wheelchair with puppyish eagerness
and watched her.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When she finished her tea, set aside the mug, and eased back
onto her pillows, Luc offered: “I can tell you about one of my adventures you
haven’t heard before.” He gave a winsome smile. He had wide-set eyes of a dark
blue in a square, boyish, tanned face, topped with curling dark-blond hair.<o:p></o:p></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p class="MsoNormal">Except that Luc was crippled, Sofie was commonly thought to
be by far the less beautiful of the two. She was a small Slovak woman with wide
hips, ash-brown hair cut very short, light eyes, and unremarkable features. She
was distinguished mainly by the lightness of her movements and the impishness
of her look when she smiled, her mouth quirking and her nose transforming into
a birdlike beak.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">They were both sculptors, and had had a studio together in Montparnasse
for almost two years, sharing models and scrimping together for clay, wax, wire,
and bronze. The studio itself was colorless and untidy, if not slovenly. All of
the energy of the place was concentrated in their sculptures—and in their
lovemaking when they fell into bed together for hours on end, sometimes so
taken with each other that it was all they could do to wash the smears of clay
off their hands first.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At Luc’s offer, Sofie’s eyes lit up. She liked to hear about
his past lovers; it made her feel companionable, and excited—and vain of Luc,
of how easily he charmed people who wouldn’t have thought they could be charmed
by a man like him. “Yes, please do,” she said.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He rested his hand on top of hers where it lay on the
covers, and began: “I was on the Côte d’Azur for the summer. There were four of
us piled into a little cottage near the ocean, which someone had rented from
his aunt for half the year. I’m afraid we left quite a mess for her to clean up.
We did our best fixing chairs that we broke and unclogging the sink and things,
but there’s just no helping it when you have four man artists in one place and
not a single woman. At least most of us were good cooks, so we weren’t living
utterly like dogs.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She was already smiling, and it seemed that the pain of her
headache was receding.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You could hear the ocean just outside, from the cliff
below, and all of the air smelled like salt, and there was always a breeze. It
was delicious. You’ve seen the ocean, yes?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Yes, but in Brétagne,” she said a little petulantly, “where
it’s cold and grey. But it does smell fresh.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, we’ll have to go to the south together, then.” He
kissed her cheek. “The streets were in reasonable enough condition that I could
get around by myself, for the most part. But my favorite part of the shore was
a tiny cove just below our house, and to get there you had to go down a series
of fifty-three steps.” He tapped his index finger on her forearm to emphasize
each syllable of that number. “I would leave my wheelchair at the very top,
slide out with a towel wrapped around my neck, and then slither and hop my way
down all fifty-three steps on my rear. You see, there was a little natural
channel down the cliff—rainwater would run that way—that zig-zagged back and
forth, so someone had set smoothed logs into the channel for steps. It was
simply the best, and only, way to get down to that cove. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“The cove could probably have held only eight people at the most,
but there was a little scoop of the smoothest golden sand down there, and the
water flowed in shallowly and as clear as green glass. It was my favorite place
to swim, because of the quiet, and maybe also because it was so hard to get
down there. It was the greatest treat to go out first thing in the morning, get
myself all the way down, sweaty and ungainly, and then slide straight into the
cool water.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But the climb up again…?” Sofie asked.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, it was dreadful.” Luc grinned. “But I would console
myself with the thought of a big breakfast, and how perfect the water would be
again the next morning.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You were an addict,” Sofie declared. “Of the most wholesome
kind.” This was true of Luc in general: he did everything with gusto, sometimes
ill-advisedly.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Thank you,” Luc replied, with dignity. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He continued: “One afternoon, I had gotten up late—no cove
this morning—and gone straight to the best café in town to get bread and butter
and coffee. I wheeled myself up to my favorite table and was slurping away at
my coffee, trying to get my head clear, when I realized that there was a man
staring at me from a few tables away.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie nestled herself more deeply into her pillows, already
feeling a tingling sense of anticipation. “Oh? And what did he look like?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He was just about thirty years old, not very tall, but trim
and handsome, with neat dark hair and a beautifully fitted linen suit and hat, all
in a cool dove-grey color. There was a blue silk band on his hat. And he wore
oxfords in a glossy caramel brown.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“What color were his eyes?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Grey, also. Dark grey, almost violet.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Lovely,” Sofie approved.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“And he wore a gold signet ring on one finger, but I never
did get a chance to see what the insignia was. Anyway, he stared and stared at
me, as if he had seen an apparition, enough so that I noticed even though I
hadn’t finished my coffee yet. Finally I said to him, ‘Do you want to buy me a
drink?’<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He cleared his throat and went very red, signaled to the
waiter, and then stood up and asked me if he could join me. I agreed, of
course. He asked me what I wanted to drink, and I told him a pastis. He ordered
two from the waiter when he came, and we watched the waiter go away.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He said his name was Ferdinand—”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“A Spaniard?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I thought maybe so, with his dark hair and light olive skin,
but he didn’t have an accent. I never asked him about it.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“A half-Spanish aristocrat,” Sofie suggested.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc smiled in agreement and went on. “‘Well, Ferdinand,’ I
said, ‘what made you stare at me when I arrived? Haven’t you seen a cripple
drinking coffee before?’<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“That only made him blush again, and he started stammering
and staring at the table. I thought it was terribly amusing, and sweet, that a
man of such refinement could act like a schoolboy. Finally, after the waiter
brought us our drinks, I got his story out of him:<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He told me that he was staying in his family’s villa by the
sea, which he and his unmarried sister were sharing at present. It was set out
over the water so that it had an excellent view of the cliffs in both
directions. He liked to get up early in the morning, drink his coffee, read a novel,
and watch the sea, the fishing boats, the bathers, and so on. His sister was a
late riser, meanwhile.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He told me that three days ago, he had begun his usual
morning routine. His novel was not holding his attention, so he was watching
the gulls over the cliffs. Suddenly his attention was transferred to something
moving down one of the cliffs.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Here, Luc paused to enjoy Sofie’s reaction. She proclaimed
in a stage whisper, “I know who it was!” She began caressing the underside of
his wrist, and Luc likewise slipped one of his hands under the covers until he
found her hip—Sofie liked to sleep naked—and began to stroke it.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Very good,” Luc said gravely, in response to Sofie’s revelation.
“Yes, it was me, getting myself down the steps again, in the only way I could.
Ferdinand was naturally confused by my strange motions, and at first wondered
if I was drunk, or injured, or both. He wondered if instead of watching, he
ought to be running to his car to drive to town and call for help for me—or try
to help me himself. Then, trying to piece things together, he was able to make
out the shape of my wheelchair at the top of the cliff—I’m sure the bright blue
helped. At about the same time, I reached the bottom of the cliff, and he was
able to see the way that I had to turn myself backwards and drag myself across
the sand, with my legs pointing towards the cliff. From all of this, he finally
deduced that I was a cripple.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“At this, he stood up from his table so violently that he
knocked over both his book and his coffee. He was aghast, and ready to run for
his car in earnest. Can you guess why?” Luc stopped both his narrative and the
motion of his hand on Sofie’s hip, and gave her a dramatic look, his head
tilted back, his eyes wide, like an actor miming horror in a film.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie’s brow was furrowed. “I… whatever could it have been? …
He didn’t—no, Luc, he didn’t…!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But he did, Sofie! He thought I was going to do away with
myself! Drown myself in the ocean because of my sorry state!”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At this, Sofie’s hands flew to her mouth, and she let out a
shocked guffaw. All thought of her aches and pains had been forgotten. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Ferdinand was so astonished that he couldn’t yet force
himself to run to his car, luckily. He stayed and kept watching, and what he
saw was that I took the towel off from around my neck, folded it neatly on a rock,
and then slid into the water and began to splash about happily, swimming on my
back. He kept watching, and when I showed absolutely no inclination to self-destruction,
he sat down again, and just kept watching. He watched until I pulled myself out
onto the sand again, patted myself down with the towel, and then lay down on
it. I sunned myself for a few minutes, and then he watched as I began to… you
know.” Luc grinned, and moved his hand closer to the meeting of Sofie’s thighs,
to illustrate.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, Luc, you didn’t!” Sofie said.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Of <i>course </i>I did. If you had felt that water and that
sun, you would have, too.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Didn’t you think that someone might see you? Weren’t there
houses close by?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, most of the cottages were on <i>top </i>of the cliff.
It would have been very difficult for anyone to lean over at an angle that
would have let them see me. It was only the big houses, like Ferdinand’s, that
were almost on a level with me, and they were farther out.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But if <i>he </i>saw you, you would have been able to see
him,” Sofie pointed out.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, he was looking for things in the cliffs, and I
wasn’t,” Luc said complacently.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He must have very good vision,” Sofie said, almost
critically.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc laughed and kissed her. His hand was still moving
steadily on her, whereas hers had stilled on his wrist, caught as she was in
the story. “Well, anyway, he watched what he could watch, from his distance,
and he liked it very much. He liked it so much that it was all he could do to
stay still while I brought matters to a close, dipped into the water one last
time, and then began dragging myself all the way back up the cliff again. But
of course he couldn’t miss the last glimpses of me. Once I had reinstalled
myself in my wheelchair and disappeared from view, he just about raced back to
his bedroom so that he could bring matters to a close for himself, too. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“He said that the experience of watching me had been so
strange, and long, and thrilling, that the final sensation was stunning, like a
lightning bolt. For a minute he thought he had gone blind from it.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie was laughing almost soundlessly, her head tilted back
in bliss now. She was imagining the soft touch of sun on the water, the endless
sound of the waves, Luc’s golden, matchless body shining on the sand, and the morning
languor of the Spaniard replaced by incredulous, glowing lust. Luc’s hand on
her, under the covers, was moving, moving, in exactly the ways she liked him to
move, and then he darted out one finger and dipped it into her, pressing
quickly into her wetness. She gasped at the contact, her back arching, the
tightening of her muscles sending a further thrill of sensation through her.
Somehow, the nauseous ache that still lingered in her belly only added to the
poignancy. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But then she grasped Luc’s wrist, bringing his motion to a
stop. “Get into bed with me,” she whispered urgently. She felt suddenly alone
there under the covers, and selfish.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc smiled, withdrew his hand, and began unbuttoning his
pale blue workman’s shirt, his trousers. She loved watching him shift lightly from
side to side in his wheelchair as he undressed himself, revealing his smooth,
tanned arms and torso, lightly covered in golden hair, his muscles working
sleekly under the skin. Then he began the business of pushing his trousers—which
were sized for a boy—down his shrunken hips, down his legs, and out from under
himself. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Every time, she loved the warm little shock of seeing his
legs: thin and unnaturally still, only about a foot long from hip to knee, and
a little less from knee to ankle, most of the joints bent and immobile—his knees
were fixed at almost ninety degrees. Here there were no muscles under the taut,
smooth, golden skin, and his feet curled inwards softly.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sofie admired the whole of him, from top to toes, with her
gaze lingering finally on his cock, resting quietly between his legs, with its
darker, velvety skin and crown of glinting, dark-gold curls.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc grinned, enjoying her tribute, and then pushed his chair
alongside the bed so that he could lean forward and swing himself over onto the
mattress. With his arms, he pulled his legs up to rest on the bed before him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He left behind him his wheelchair: jaunty, irreverent, and
blue. Luc had had the same wheelchair for almost his whole life, and over time,
had made it into his own: he had had a carpenter friend cut down and reframe the
back so that it didn’t loom over him, and lift up the footrest so that it
actually supported his short legs. They had replaced the heavy wheels with
light bicycle tires. To boot, he had himself painted all the woodwork vivid
blue and embellished it with twining vines and flowers. The whole effect was
madcap, elfish; Sofie thought that it made Luc, with his curly hair, look like
some kind of pagan prince. Seeing his wheelchair alone made Sofie smile almost
as much as Luc himself did.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She reached up to pull Luc under the covers with her now,
sliding her arms around him to caress his skin. She began kissing his neck, all
the spots where she knew he was most sensitive, and he gasped and nestled
against her. His hand began to seek out her sex, again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well?” Sofie murmured invitingly. “Then what happened,
after Ferdinand spilled out his whole story for you?” She kissed the crook of
his neck and his shoulder again, then nipped his ear.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc groaned, heavy and still in her arms. “Telling you a
story was easier when I wasn’t trying to pay attention to three things at
once.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You like challenges,” Sofie said. “Here’s your challenge
for this morning.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I just wanted to do something nice for you. I didn’t know I
would be obliged to this level of mental <i>and</i> physical exertion.” <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh, well, well…” Sofie murmured. She lowered one of her
hands to cup his cock, and bent her head at the same time to begin sucking at
one of his nipples. Her headache was only a distant throb.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For a little while, neither said anything, until Sofie
stilled her motions, leaving Luc dazed and heavy-eyed. He breathed heavily, staring
at her with his dark blue eyes. “I want to hear the rest of the story,” she
said innocently, blinking back at him. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He gave a gusty sigh and passed a hand over his brow. “Where
the hell was I?”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You almost made the Spaniard go blind. Half-Spaniard.”<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Half-Spaniard, full blind,” Luc said nonsensically. “Right.
Well, he told me that story. Then he told me that since then, he had been
trying to figure out how to make inquiries about who I was and where I lived, without
rousing too much interest. He walked into town that morning with the intention
of starting to ask around. And then what should happen, but me showing up in
the same damned café as him. Then he sat back in his chair, blushing and
sipping his pastis furiously. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I, naturally, told Ferdinand that I was extremely
flattered. I asked him what he was doing for the rest of the day. And I asked
him if his villa was very pretty, because I would like to see the view from
there.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, he stammered and mumbled some more, but we finally
managed to finish our drinks, pay the bill, and leave the café with a bag full
of sandwiches to eat for the rest of the day.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“The road out to his villa was steep, so I asked him if he
wanted to push my wheelchair. He was so stunned and so gallant, you would have
thought I was a medieval lady and I’d just asked him to accept my silken kerchief
before he rode into battle. I put the bag of sandwiches in my lap and enjoyed
the views of all the villas with their creamy walls and red roofs and pink
oleanders and so on as he pushed me onwards. He was running with sweat soon
enough, but he didn’t complain at all. Every time I looked back over my
shoulder at him, I thought how handsome he looked with his jaw set and his eyes
narrowed in concentration and his dark hair falling across his brow.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“When we reached his family villa, his housekeeper looked at
us very strangely, indeed. But Ferdinand put on quite the manner with her and
said only that I was a new friend of his from the town, and that I had come to
see the view. And we swept on past her.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“The view really was beautiful, seeing the whole sweep of
the coast, all the dark woods and the pale villas and cottages, the turquoise
water below and beyond. And it was curious to see the cove, my cove, from afar;
I tried to picture what I would have looked like, there.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“But we only saw it for a few minutes together, because Ferdinand
just about yanked me back to his room.” Sofie made a little murmuring noise of
pleasure and pulled closer to Luc, beginning to kiss his neck again.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Luc closed his eyes, trying to concentrate, smiling at her
kisses. “The room was enormous. He slanted all the blinds so no one would be
able to peep in, and it felt like a wonderful cool cave, with white walls and a
big dark bed with acres of linen. And he simply picked me up out of my
wheelchair, in the same gallant way, and put me in that enormous bed, and we took
off our shirts and kissed for a long time..."<o:p></o:p></p><br /></o:p></div></div>Rowanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08463564632660683887noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-53823171914178685262023-07-12T11:25:00.003-07:002023-07-13T01:13:20.838-07:00New story from new author: Only in My Dreams?<p>Hi there, another anonymous author has blessed us with a new and steamy story. Check out <a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2022/12/only-in-my-dreams.html">Only in My Dreams?</a> by Armchair Author!</p><p>Yay! Thanks to all the great authors out there, keep them stories coming!</p><p>Cheers</p><p>Lovis<br /></p>Lovishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02114730183495454234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-46545906163043199642023-06-06T04:20:00.005-07:002023-06-06T04:25:52.216-07:00New story from new author<p>Hi there, I’m posting on behalf of a new author: Chloe. Her story, <a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2022/12/jason.html?m=1" target="">Jason</a>, is available now, so please shower her with comments and praise so she’ll give us more :)</p><p>Best</p><p>Lovis</p><p>PS: If you also have a story you’d like to share with the community please email us at paradevo@yahoo.com!</p>Lovishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02114730183495454234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-42842898018360155222023-05-17T13:33:00.003-07:002023-05-17T13:59:07.767-07:00Short story: Turbulence<p>Hi there, just dropping in to leave this short story for you: <a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2022/12/turbulence.html">Turbulence</a>. I’ve published it before as part of a writing contest under the title "I am Devotee" on a different site that doesn't seem to exist anymore. Anyway, this is a slightly revised version since now I'm not bound to any word count. I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.<br /></p><p>Lovis</p>Lovishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02114730183495454234noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-38578306744472782312023-05-07T19:27:00.002-07:002023-05-07T19:27:26.922-07:00Update later this week?<p> Hey, friends and loyal readers, I'm here just to wave a "I've not given up" flag and let you know that the story (or STORIES lol) is in progress! I've just been really busy with life recently.</p><p>I should have a Let it Snow chapter later this week, perhaps on the weekend! And maybe some other stuff... ;)</p><p>Thank you for your patience and see you soon!</p>Catarinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414482103226833203noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-89806679969997004962023-03-31T15:29:00.000-07:002023-03-31T15:29:17.963-07:00LITT - Dani<p>Hi everyone,</p><p>I've decided I won't post any more of "Love in Troubled Times". </p><p>I understand it's probably not what people are used to from me, and I just haven't gotten many hits here anymore after the first two chapters. The lack of comments makes me believe that it's probably not really people's "cup of tea". Thanks to the readers who did comment and let me know, it means a lot, and I'm sorry, I'm not going to post anymore. It's difficult to be confident in my writing when I don't really "see" anyone actually interested. Stay tuned for when the story gets published. </p><p>I've put a lot of work into this story, and I am finishing it up at the moment. Hopefully, I can publish it for Kindle in the next couple of weeks. </p><p>I write and publish under Dani Deveaux, so follow me on Goodreads, Amazon, or IG if you're interested in my work or want to stay in the loop about "Love in Troubled Times". I've also got several new ideas that I would like to put down as stories, so stay tuned or let me know you're out there if you're interested in my work.</p><p>You're also welcome to write to me at deveauxdani18420@gmail.com if you have any questions. </p><p>Thanks for reading!</p><p>Hugs, Dani</p><p> </p>Danihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18026049667985097651noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-14144225944813930662023-03-13T15:25:00.001-07:002023-03-13T15:25:38.563-07:00and the (totally) unexpected happens in LET IT SNOW... again<p> HEY! I should've posted this last week but, ehhh, things got pretty busy! So here it is another chapter of Let it Snow, in which Will begs and Nick complies because he definitely doesn't like her. </p><p><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-chapter-vi.html" style="background-color: #f4cccc;">HERE</a>'s chapter six!</p><p>Also, thank you for all the feedback and I'm glad you're enjoying it! I'm thinking about posting the Onde Anda Você update next week, but also, I've been insanely... <i>inspired </i>recently and I might be dropping a few short stories soon? No promises! Because I suck at keeping those. But yeah! See you soon!</p><p>Enjoy!</p><p><br /></p><p><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-toc.html"><b>TABLE OF CONTENTS</b></a></p>Catarinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414482103226833203noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-91022436777692574742023-02-26T14:38:00.056-08:002023-02-26T14:38:00.197-08:00and they spend more time together, a LET IT SNOW update!<p>Hello, you lovely PD people! I knooooow it took me longer than intended, but I'm here now! And I have some good news; aside from a fresh chapter to Let it Snow this week, I also have the next chapter ready to go <i>aaaand </i>a Onde Anda Você chapter as well! So I'll have at least a couple active weeks now, lol</p><p>In this chapter, we get to see a little bit of Will and Nick's past! <a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-chapter-v.html"><b style="background-color: #d9d2e9;">HERE </b></a>it is.</p><p>Also, I've been thinking... Would you like me to release all chapters at the same time, but a while from now, or "weekly", as I write them? It's supposed to be a short story, so there aren't many more chapters to go. </p><p>As always, let me know what you think!</p><p><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-toc.html"><b style="background-color: #f4cccc;">TABLE OF CONTENTS</b></a></p>Catarinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414482103226833203noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-73795095459461836632023-01-03T15:32:00.003-08:002023-01-03T15:33:07.511-08:00Happy new year! and also a let it snow update (heh)<p>I'm back! Took me a little longer because I was dealing with a lot during the holidays and couldn't reach my PC to post it. Happy New Year, you lovely people. I hope this year we can read lots of amazing stories here. </p><p>In this chapter, Nick and Will have a very pleasant drive to their unnamed town (because I'm lazy).</p><p><span style="background-color: #cfe2f3;"><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-chapter-iv.html"><b>Chapter IV</b></a><span style="color: #0000ee;">❆</span></span></p><p>Let me know what you think!</p><p><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-toc.html"><b>TABLE OF CONTENTS</b></a></p>Catarinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414482103226833203noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-65812409430012017262022-12-22T16:40:00.002-08:002022-12-22T16:48:51.397-08:00let it snow but there's only one room... <p> In today's chapter, there was only one room... and a surprise.</p><p><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-chapter-iii_23.html">Let it Snow, chapter three</a></p><p>Let me know your thoughts and enjoy!❄</p><p style="text-align: right;"><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-toc.html">table of contents</a></p><p><br /></p>Catarinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414482103226833203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-85624978142766742082022-12-17T14:02:00.001-08:002022-12-17T14:02:31.539-08:00update to Let it Snow!<p> I told you I'd be back quick! Thank you all for your comments last chapter, I'm glad to hear you liked it! In today's chapter, Nick and Will spend some forced, awful time together in a car, and then...</p><p><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-chapter-ii.html"><b><span style="background-color: #d0e0e3; color: black;">Let it Snow, Chapter Two. </span></b></a></p><p>Enjoy!</p>Catarinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414482103226833203noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-86837076725728947892022-12-13T16:19:00.000-08:002022-12-13T16:19:14.657-08:00new christmas story!<p> Hey, PD!</p><p>I've been trying to write a Christmas story for, uh, years. At last, I've managed to come up with something. I've written several chapters already and I couldn't wait to share it --- knowing me, if I waited, I'd miss the season and this would only see the light of the day... next year. But here it is! It's supposed to be short and light, but I can promise there's some steam too.</p><p><a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/12/let-it-snow-chapter-i.html" style="background-color: #d0e0e3;">LET IT SNOW, chapter 1</a></p><p>Enjoy! Let me know what you think in the comments. I might be posting more than one chapter a week, so stay tuned!</p><p><br /></p><p>P.S. I haven't forgotten about Onde Anda Você, nor The Boy in the Garden. Have faith lol</p>Catarinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01414482103226833203noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-37191087506688906212022-12-12T11:15:00.022-08:002023-07-12T12:14:42.993-07:00Only in My Dreams?She walked into the bar just as he was sipping his beer. The way the gentle light of the entryway shone, it picked up the perfect tint of her blond hair, he almost choked on the pilsner he was sipping. She was literally breath taking. She too looked his way, their eyes locked and the feeling was mutual. Their eyes remained locked on each other, followed by words then drinks, then dinner. They were like opposite poles of a magnet, instant attraction. Now they were in the bedroom of his stylish downtown condo, this gorgeous work of art laying naked on his bed. He began to shed his clothes. His manhood fully erect and ready for business. He climbed on the bed hovering over her and began to kiss every part of her body. Then just as he was about to head into her, there was a gentle knock at the door. He turned to see, who could that possibly be...<br /><br /><span><a name='more'></a></span>The door slowly opened and it was Maureen, his personal care attendant. <br /><br />Wait what?!?!<br /><br />It all came crashing down. Maureen opened the door fully and said Good Morning. <br /><br />JD was still confused about which world he was in. Where did the vixen he was about to make love to go? He looked around at his surroundings trying to clear the cloud of confusion in his mind. Looking up he saw the hoist device, sling attached, with its track affixed to the ceiling. To the right a large black electric wheelchair, to the left a shower chair. JD was back now. Sadly, he slowly gained the clarity to realize he was back in the real world and Maureen had come in at the usual time to perform the bodily tasks JD could no longer perform. <br /><br />She pulled off the blanket that covered him, turned off the pressure relief mattress, raised the head of the bed. His actual life became ever more clear to him now. Splints on both his feet and hands to keep his fingers and toes he could not move or feel from curling into a permanent fetal position. As Maureen removed the splints and began to stretch his thin, atrophied limbs, JD caught a glimpse of his manhood, lifeless and hanging slightly to the left. What an incredible dream he thought and could not believe how real it was. <br /><br />A lot of JD’s time in the mornings was spent dreaming about a life that could have been. As Maureen lowered the bed and rolled him on to his left side laying down the chux pad to start his bowel routine, JD began to day dream about what life would have been had he made love to that woman. He probably would be married to the girl in his dreams by then. Before his accident, JD could practically sleep with any girl he talked to. A star athlete in high school, captain of the baseball team, invitations to eight different prestigious universities all offering him full ride scholarships sitting on his desk at home. He had just been crowned prom king, voted most likely to succeed, most popular and best looking in his senior class. Six foot tall, and a perfectly sculpted body with almost no body fat, JD loved being the center of attention. <br /><br />The smell of his own shit returned him to reality as Maureen coaxed out that last two days of solid waste from JDs colon. It was his love of attention that put JD in this position. Always wanting to be the star of the show, JD, and the beers he had consumed clouded his then 18-year old testosterone filled brain as he crawled up the rocks on the shore of the lake. The sun was hot, which only increased the effects of the alcohol. JD told all of his friends to watch as he dove into the water. Not something most 18-years take notice of, but the lack of snow in the north part of the state earlier in the winter meant no snowmelt to fill up the lake as JD’s head hit the lake floor sending a shockwave of energy down his neck. The force of his body reacting to hitting something solid, shattered his 4th cervical vertebrae sending tiny shards of bone into his spinal cord. That was the last time JD ever voluntarily moved anything below his shoulders.<br /><br />Maureen finished the bowel program, rolled JD back over, tossing his arms around like they were pillows. She lowered the sling and slid it under him, attached the hooks and raised his naked body up into the air. JD looked down at his bony knees, toothpick arms, and a buddha quad belly that had formed from ten years of inactivity. He gave a sigh as Maureen pulled the sling over the shower chair and lowered JD down. The shower, the only thing JD enjoyed of his morning routine, the chance to feel warm water on his head and neck. The absence of sensation in the rest of his body made his cheeks and chin all the more sensitive. It was as if his body had rewired itself to gain physical enjoyment from such a small area.<br /><br />Maureen scrubbed JD’s lifeless body, shaved his face and finished up the last of the morning duties. She then lowered a dressed JD into his wheelchair, strapped the belts across his waist and chest, positioned his arms in the arm troughs and moved the sip and puff straw in front of his mouth. JD would spend the next 12 hours in this chair, the only freedom and independence he now had. <br /><br />JD was fed a small breakfast and then sip and puffed his way over to his work desk to start his day. After his injury, JD went into a deep depression. His parents added a wing on to their huge house to accommodate his new reality but talking about their crippled son at parties was something his high society parents were not going to do. JD’s dad was angry that his son threw away a promising baseball career by becoming paralyzed. JD was basically a prisoner left to be forgotten in his parents home. To add to the stress JD’s live-in aide at the time was both verbally and physically abusive. Finally through the help of others, JD got out of that situation and managed to start college. Since his body no longer worked he had to focus on what the mind could do. He ended up getting his accounting degree and was working for a medical supply company as their senior accountant. This job allowed him to work most days from home and occasional office visits for meetings. <br /><br />Maureen placed the headset on JD’s head and made sure the all the mouth sticks JD used for his work were all in place. She gathered her things and left. JD had about an hour alone before Mike, his full time live-in attendant arrived from his days off. <br /><br />JD answered several emails, checked on the status of some projects and put the finishing touches on the big project that was supposed to be presented later on that day. This project unfortunately had to be done in person which meant a trip to the office. After tilting his wheelchair back to shift his weight Mike advised him that it was time for lunch and then they needed load up into the van and head to the office for the big presentation. <br /><br />JD told Mike he wanted a very light lunch. JD was keenly aware that his lack of movement meant that he barely burned any calories. He didn’t eat a lot fearing he would gain additional weight. Today though he didn’t want to eat because he was nervous about having to present this proposal at his office in front of a group of people. He knew everyone gets nervous speaking in front of others but he especially didn’t like it now that he was strapped to a wheelchair unable to move his body except for turning his head and shrugging his shoulders. He often felt the looks of pity as he scanned those he was speaking in front of or that he was viewed as some kind of inspiration for managing to make it to the office with such a disability. Either way he hated being the center of attention. He knew this customer was important to his boss so he ate what Mike fed him. Mike emptied his JD’s leg bag and then they headed down the elevator to the parking garage where his van was located. <br /><br />As Mike opened the door to the office JD was greeted by several of those that he leads. He was given a status report and expertly sipped and puffed his wheelchair to the large conference room. JD’s admin assistant made sure the powerpoint presentation was loaded in the computer and plugged in the computer controller to the switch on JD’s wheelchair near his left shoulder. With this set up JD could advance the slides by shrugging his left left shoulder. <br /><br />The presentation was a success and the customer signed the multimillion dollar contract. JD’s boss was very happy and insisted that they go out and celebrate this huge win, mostly due to JD’s hard work. JD wasn’t a fan of the bar scene, mostly due to all the stares and difficulty in drinking a cold beer when it has to be held up to your mouth so you can drink it through a straw, but tonight there was no getting out of it, the boss insisted. <br /><br />Mike unloaded JD out of the van at the bar which was just a few blocks from his condo. Inside the bar it was filled with young yuppie professionals all blowing off steam after a long work day. JD and his party settled in a corner of the bar and the first round was ordered. JD’s boss gave a toast to the success of the project and made a major announcement. Due to his hard work, he was promoting JD to the role of vice president of accounting. Lots of cheers and another round of beers. <br /><br />JD completed another weight shift and as he was bringing his chair back to the upright position, he looked at the entry door. He saw her. The girl from his dream walking in. She was more beautiful in person. He was in a trance as he watched her and her girlfriend walk to the bar and sit down on two stools and order their drinks. Mike must have noticed JD staring. He asked JD what was going on. JD, with now two beers making its way through his body, normally would have said nothing and changed subject, but instead told Mike that he had the most vivid dream about a girl last night and that was her! Mike suggested that JD buy her and her friend some drinks cause Mike thought her friend was cute. No way, JD responded. His confidence in socializing with the opposite sex left the same time his ability to control his body did. Girls aren’t interested in quadriplegics who need to be fed, dressed, turned and bathed. They are just interested in being friends.<br /><br />Mike told him he had nothing to lose why not just buy them a round of drinks. The beers were definitely talking now along with the elation of a big job promotion. Perhaps he let his guard down and took Mike’s suggestion. Mike flagged the waitress down and JD told her to buy the two ladies at the bar a round on him. The waitress obliged. JD went on celebrating with his work friends but watched as the bartender poured out another two cosmopolitans and pointed his way. The two ladies turned and looked at JD. JD nodded. The girls raised their glasses saying cheers, looked at each other and turned back towards the bar. Just as JD thought, one look at his wheelchair, his lifeless body strapped in it, the straw that he had to use just to move was too much for the average woman to take in. JD was probably going to be single and celibate the rest of his life. <br /><br />JD went back to focusing on the work crowd with a fake smile, he acted like he was enjoying the celebration but realized that buying a round of drinks and expecting something in return was stupid. <br /><br />Out of nowhere, the two girls arrived at the table. The one in JD’s dream looked at JD and said “Thanks for the drinks, that was really nice of you.” JD was stunned and could barely blurt out the words “your welcome”. She introduced herself as Sadie and her friend Julie. JD responded with his name and introduced them to the group. Sadie asked what the occasion was and when someone in the group told her about JD’s recent promotion, she said congrats and asked where he worked. JD responded with Allegro Medical Supply. It turned out, Sadie worked in the same building up two floors. Sadie was a PR rep for a very successful law firm in the city. It certainly showed. She was dressed in a very professional suit, expensive heels. It fit perfectly on her well sculpted body with a full ass and perfectly sized breasts. JD found himself staring at her beauty. He made small talk with Sadie and Julie for the next hour. Neither of them asked why he was in a wheelchair. <br /><br />JD noticed their drinks getting low and asked Mike to order up another round. Now came the awkward part. . . JD wanted another sip of his beer, but it meant Mike having to lift the glass up to his lips. This would surely be the awkward cue that the girls would leave. As he was talking with them he kept thinking about how things were going so well with this and now it would end as they watched a grown man reduced to a helpless child in order to enjoy an adult beverage. JD figured it was going to happen sooner or later so he asked Mike for a sip of beer. Before Mike could grab the glass, Sadie grabbed it and said, “ I can do it if you would like” JD was shocked. She didn’t mind and held up the glass to his lips. As he took a sip they locked eyes and she smiled. <br /><br />JD was dumbfounded. In the ten years since his accident, no woman had ever spent this much time with him. He didn’t think it would happen. The sex counselor at the rehab center didn’t agree. She told JD while still in a neck brace and on a ventilator that he could have a very satisfying sex life. Right! JD thought. A sex life when you feel nothing, can control nothing and move nothing. Sure. JD didn’t even watch porn anymore, he found it just another reminder of a stupid decision that he made that changed his life forever. Now Sadie is chatting with him, and acting differently then just looking for a friend. She looked like she wanted something else. <br /><br /><br />Three beers in and JD was really beginning to loosen up. He didn’t want Sadie to leave but he also knew that three beers meant his leg bag was about to burst and that he and Mike needed go to the restroom to empty it. That would surely be the opportunity for Sadie to complete her volunteer duty of entertaining the disabled and resume her evening. Three beers was the most JD he consumed since his accident and his confidence was building. He decided to go for broke, he had nothing to lose at this point. He asked Sadie if she was interested in coming back to his condo, he only lived four blocks from bar. Sadie hesitated and looked over at her friend Julie. Julie, who was now hanging on Mike and nodded yes. <br /><br />Sadie hesitated and then asked JD, “What did you have in mind?” JD didn’t have anything in mind. Although he would love nothing more than to make love to Sadie, he knew it would be too difficult, require a lot of planning and he had not been intimate with anyone since his accident. <br /><br />The beers however had taken over the speech part of his brain. JD said to Sadie, “We can play it by ear, but I will tell you, what I lack in body movement I more than make up with my tongue.”<br /><br />Sadie looked intrigued and agreed to come over. <br /><br />JD gave her directions and told her to give him about a 20 min. head start. He and Mike headed out to the van, loaded up and headed to JD’s condo. On the short drive Mike mentioned that Julie was cute and she was horny. JD wasn’t sure what to do. He knew that Mike was single, and was looking to score. He suggested that Mike just toss him in bed and he would see where it would go with Sadie. <br /><br />JD let the doorman know that two ladies were on their way to let them up when they arrived. JD expertly maneuvered his wheelchair using the sip and puff into his condo and headed for the bedroom with Mike close behind him. <br /><br />This was going to be the quick into the bed routine. JD moved his wheelchair next to the bed. Mike shut it off and moved the straw away from JD’s mouth. He moved his lifeless arms into his lap, unstrapped his chest strap and held him steady. He picked up each leg and folded up the foot plate. After unstrapping his lap belt he turned to JD and bent down. JD placed his chin on Mike’s shoulder as Mike grabbed the belt loops of JD’s pants. JD pushed his chin into Mike’s shoulder for leverage as MIke lifted JD up, turned toward the bed and sat JD down. While holding him steady he unbuttoned JD’s shirt and pulled the sleeve off JD’s right arm, followed by his left arm. He then laid JD down, grabbed his legs and moved them on to the bed. Mike then unbuttoned his pants, removed his shoes and socks and pulled the pants off. <br /><br />JD’s leg bag was indeed about to burst. Mike gently removed the bag from the suprapubic catheter tube and hooked the tube to the night bag. JD was now completely naked and securely in place. Mike adjusted JD limbs and put the comforter over his body up to his chin. He then asked JD if we wanted protection. JD nodded yes. Mike opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom and a cock ring. The condom has been in there for so long it probably wasn’t good anymore. It didn’t matter, JD had not ejaculated in ten years, probably couldn’t even ejaculate. How do you test that? You can’t ask your nurse to rub your dick to see if it still worked. But what if? JD thought the condom would not get used but he had made it this far, why stop now. <br /><br />Just as they finished up the doorbell rang.<br /><br />Mike opened the door and let them in. Julie and Mike went off to Mike’s room and Sadie gently knocked and pushed open JD’s door and saw him there in the bed. Sadie looked both determined and unsure about what to do next at the same time. <br /><br />JD told her to come in and close the door. JD could not believe he had made it this far and the alcohol inspired confidence was beginning to fade. He thought probably Sadie had come for her friend Julie and that they would spend the time just talking. JD sensed Sadie was interested in something more, but just didn’t know how to proceed so JD decided to go for broke. <br /><br />JD said,”I am glad you decided to come over. I want to be open and honest with you Sadie. I think you look hot and I am very attracted to you by my brain and my body haven’t spoken much in the last ten years so when you pull this comforter back you are going to see a withered body that probably makes my head look really big! I am also very turned on by you right now and very much still think like a guy but my brain and my penis also no longer speak so if you want me in you, you are going to have to rub my penis to get it hard. There is a condom and cock ring to keep it hard on the nightstand’, as he tilted his head toward the table. “And lastly just above my groin is a tube that comes out of my belly and runs down to the side of the bed. That drains my bladder just be careful to not pull it out please.” <br /><br />“Now with that out of the way, come closer, I really want to kiss you.”<br /><br />JD felt this was the moment of truth. Either this was meant to be, or what he just said would be too much for Sadie to handle. He studied her face and waited. <br /><br />Sadie smiled and sauntered over to the bed, leaned over and began to kiss him. JD went to work with the strongest muscle left in his body. . . his tongue. The las ten years of using his tongue for driving his chair and using mouth sticks had made it very strong and very precise. His tongue together with his lips made Sadie groan. She paused, pulled back and looked at JD surprised that someone with such limited mobility had this skill. JD realized what she was thinking and said, “Think of what I could do with other parts of you.” and grinned.<br /><br />Sadie smiled back and began pull off her clothes in a striptease manner putting on a show for JD. She knew what JD meant about his tongue. Sadie, now naked, slowly pulled the comforter all the way off exposing all of JD’s body. He was right, she thought, his body is withered. JD’s shoulders were very boney like that of a young boy going through puberty, his chest was flat and his arms and legs showed years of atrophy. Sadie paused, wondering if it was ok to get top of JD, his body looking so fragile. JD nodded and said, ‘Hop on, you can’t hurt me’. Sadie now on top of JD began to wildly kiss him again. They were both getting very turned on. JD instructed Sadie to shove his hands under his butt so she could get closer to his mouth. Sadie complied and then thrust her pussy close to JD’s magical tongue. She grabbed the chains of the hoist above the bed and JD entered in and began to work his magic. Sadie was in ecstasy as JD found every pleasure spot inside of her. She screamed with immense pleasure. JD was focusing on breathing through his nose and the smell of her was energizing to him. JD had never much been an oral sex guy but he was getting real pleasure from the sounds Sadie was making and this made him want to go further into her. Sadie’s scream reached a peak and she orgasmed.<br /><br />Sadie, out of breath pushed JD head back, and said. “I want you in me, I want you in me now!.” She grabbed the condom and the cock ring scooted back on the bed and began to rub JD’s dick. JD looked down with excitement as his dick began to grow in size, something he hadn’t seen in a long time. She placed the condom on it and slid the ring down to the base of his penis and jumped back on top of him putting his penis in her mouth sliding up and down. Sadie was in a wild mood and she didn’t want to lose the feeling. She slid his dick inside of her and began moving up and down motions like she was riding a horse. JD couldn’t feel any of it but he was getting off just watching the look on her face. He was basically a human dildo at this point, but he didn’t care. He was providing sexual pleasure to a woman, something he never felt he would be able to do, or even cared about doing before his injury.<br /><br />Sadie, without asking, somehow figured out that JD’s neck and face probably had heightened sensitivity since the rest of his body had none and she began stroking JD’s jaw bones with her long manicured fingernails as she was moving up and down on him. To JD it felt amazing, almost like what it felt like to stroke his dick in his previous body. While Sadie thrusted up and down and scratched JD’s cheeks with her nails, they were both in ecstasy. JD began to feel a building up of pleasure. At first he was concerned about AD, but at this point, he would rather die of a stroke having sex with a beautiful woman then miss out on something he thought he lost forever. Sadie again reached orgasm and JD felt warm all over his neck and face as she collapsed on top of him. Both out of breath, Sadie rolled over next to him and they laid looking at the ceiling and their bodies began to return to normal. <br /><br />Sadie grabbed the comforter and pulled it over them both and she nestled in close to JD and they just laid there enjoying each other’s presence. Not wanting to interrupt the mood, JD knew that the cock ring on his penis had been on there about 20 minutes and fearing damage he asked Sadie if she could remove it. She complied and it immediately went limp.<br /><br />Sadie laid back down next to JD. Still basking in the warmth of the moment JD said, “Can I ask you a question?” <br /><br />“Sure” Sadie said. <br /><br />“Why me?” JD asked. “Why did you want to have sex with me, given all my issues?”<br /><br />Sadie thought about the question and was coming up with an answer. <br /><br />“It’s a lot of reasons I think’, she said. “I think you are cute, and to be completely honest, it seems like the guy is always in charge with sex. He gets hard, he shoots his wad, and then he’s done. Its all over in two minutes. With you, I felt like I was in charge and it felt good and OH MY GOD, your tongue is. . . is. . . , I can’t describe how that felt. No man has every made me feel like that. I also like kinky sex and I have never done it with someone who is paralyzed.”<br /><br />JD took that as a compliment. In his world where so much has to be done for him, it was nice he could do something for someone else. <br /><br />Sadie said, “Look I think you are great guy, but I am not into a long term relationship, if that is why you are asking.” <br /><br />JD responded, “No, I am not ready for that either, I was just curious. Women don’t usually look at me at all so I guess I was just surprised you wanted to come over after I ordered you drinks. Most people look at me and move on”<br /><br />The two laid silent for another twenty minutes, until a gentle knock on the door. Julie poked her head in signaling to Sadie that it was time to leave and then closed the door. Sadie got up, got dressed, kissed JD once more and said, “ You are awesome, and keep that tongue in shape.” <br /><br />After hearing the front door close and lock, Michael came in to stretch JD’s limbs, put on his splints and turn on his pressure relieving mattress. <br /><br />“Well”, Michael asked. “How was it?”<br /><br />“It was awesome” JD responded, “Better than I expected. How about you?”<br /><br />“Ehh, she’s young and inexperienced but we had fun” Michael responded. <br /><br />Michael checked the catheter and leg bag and asked JD if there was anything else he needed. <br /><br />JD nodded no and drifted off to sleep. <br /><br />JD found himself in his favorite restaurant. Fontina was nothing fancy but the food was always good and the service was excellent. His table faced the entrance when he saw her walk in. She too was beautiful, just like Sadie. Their eyes met and they both smiled. Michael noticed him looking at her as he held up a forkful of salad to JD’s mouth. Michael smiled as well. <br /><br />Then, the familiar knock at the door, “Good Morning” It was Mike. <br /><br />JD again came back to reality as Mike removed the splints and began the daily routine again. <br /><br />“Any plans for today?” Mike asked. <br /><br />“I was thinking about dinner at Fontina tonight.” said JD.Lovishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02114730183495454234noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-38534804080721693292022-12-11T04:01:00.006-08:002023-06-06T04:22:22.487-07:00Jason<div style="text-align: left;"><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Jason couldn't believe he was lost in the grocery store. He felt helpless, when mere minutes before, he was feeling confident after an uneventful bus ride, walk to the store, and even obtaining a shopping cart with ease. His now realized that his vision had deteriorated further, making it impossible for him to identify the items on the shelves.<span><a name='more'></a></span><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">He lost track of time as he wandered down aisle after aisle, hoping someone would help him. It had made complete sense earlier to schedule this shopping trip when the store would be nearly empty. Eventually, his nerves frayed, and tears began to prick his eyes.<br /></span><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Suddenly, a gentle voice interrupted his worries. "Hello there, I'm Rebecca. Is everything okay?"</span></div><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Jason turned around to see someone he assumed belonged to the voice, although he couldn't see her clearly enough to gauge the gender of the red and blue smear in front of him .</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">"No, I'm sorry," Jason replied, attempting to turn a sniffle into a gruff cough. "I'm struggling with my vision and can't seem to find anything."</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Rebecca took in the white cane and darting eyes, seeing before her a man with expressions of fear and relief alternating on his face. When offered her assistance, the relief won out. She guided him through the store while they talked about her two kids and their activities. She helped Jason pick out his groceries with care and patience. The kids could eat boxes macaroni and cheese for another day. They'd probably prefer it to the dinner she had planned to shop for anyway.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">After they checked out, Rebecca insisted on driving Jason home. During the trip, he opened up to her about how he had been going blind for a couple of years now and how frustrated he was feeling about giving up on some of his passions, like biking and hockey.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Rebecca listened closely; she could hear the sadness in his voice. Her heart went out to him as she guided him into his home with all of his groceries in tow.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">"Thank you so much for your help," Jason said when they were at his front door.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">"Of course," Rebecca. She considered offering Jason a hug, but decided against it.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">As they entered the house and Jason hung up his cane, Rebecca noticed how he hesitated, gauging his steps as if trying to take in the layout of his home anew. He hoped that she didn't notice that the doorknob to the kitchen escaped him on his first two attempts to usher her in, not even glancing back. He wouldn't have made out the expression of compassion on her face that proved that she had observed it all too well. She felt a little guilty rustling the plastic bags as if she were examining their contents rather than watching Jason struggle.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Jason half led the way as Rebecca steered him to the kitchen counter, where they set down the bags of groceries. As he began unpacking, she asked him about his experience at the Lighthouse he had mentioned in the car. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">"It's been helpful," Jason admitted. "But it's also hard to accept that this is my life now." </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">"I can only imagine," Rebecca sympathized, watching him struggle to distinguish between a can of soup and a jar of olives. She noticed how he fumbled with the twisted plastic bags, leaving them laying loose and empty on the counter.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Jason sighed heavily. "I used to take my sight for granted, you know? Now I have to learn how to do everything all over again." </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Rebecca took in the scattered organization of Jason's cupboards and shelves, as well as the braille labels affixed to certain items.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">"It's not easy, I'm sure," she said softly. "But you're doing great. It sounds like you're making progress even if there are some rough days." </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Jason nodded gratefully, and they finished unpacking and arranging everything in its proper spot.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">"Thank you so much for your help today," he said as she headed towards the door. "I don't know what I would have done without you." </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Rebecca turned back towards him with a warm smile that he couldn't see. "You're welcome. Any time, really," she replied. "You have my number."</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;" /><span face=""Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif" style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(34, 34, 34); color: #222222; font-size: 14px;">Jason was left with his thoughts. As he started feeling lost once again in the quiet of his home, he briefly marvelled at how their paths had crossed. He'd made a friend in Rebecca despite, or rather because of, his increasingly unhelpful eyesight. While he wanted to believe that he couldn't rely on anyone else forever and needed to find strength within himself, it suddenly struck him that accepting help took its own kind of strength. He looked forward to seeing Rebecca again, although he knew it would be a while before he could convince himself to let her kids watch him stumble and grope around, no matter how charming she had made them sound.</span>Lovishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02114730183495454234noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-131266003059372392022-12-10T10:07:00.003-08:002022-12-13T18:51:49.065-08:00Beta readers for mythology novel<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: medium;"><strike><b><br /></b></strike></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><b>UPDATE: </b>Thanks so much for all the interest! I have enough beta-readers for now, but I'll keep you abreast of any beta-reading second rounds or publication updates. </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><strike><b>WANTED:</b> A handful of beta readers/sensitivity readers for a full-length novel.</strike><br />Will there be sea-nymphs and satyrs? <i>Certainly!</i></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Dryads and dracones? <i>In droves.</i><i><br /></i><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;">Show me centaurs. <i>How about herds of them horsing around?</i></span><br /><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;">…and as an early Christmas/out-of-season Kronia present, you can have the cuddliest cutie on crutches!</span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span>If mythology is your cup of tea, e-mail</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span> </span><a href="mailto:staying.anniemouse@gmail.com"><span>staying.anniemouse@gmail.com</span></a></span></div>Anniemousehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08764080321179564081noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-32704034891461441942022-12-01T13:06:00.005-08:002023-05-18T12:41:00.574-07:00TurbulenceI wouldn’t have sat down across from him if I had known. <br /><br /> Okay, that probably makes me sound like a douchebag. I’m not an asshole. Maybe a little, sometimes. When I’m hungry, or tired, or when the person in line in front of me orders the last piece of cake that I have set my eyes on and can practically taste in my mouth already, the one with glistening dark chocolate and raspberries, or the handmade earrings I scout out on a market that match perfectly to my favorite blouse, or that hamster in the cage, with the white spot on the snout, when I’ve just come up with a name and subconsciously added it to my family tree (true story). Then I might get cranky. But otherwise I’m totally zen. Really.<a name='more'></a><p></p>Let me explain myself. I’m not a person who is known to be shy. In fact, I’m far from that. My mouth is running most of the time, I can’t seem to stop it. Honestly, sometimes I wish I could. And well, basically I have no problem with guys. No, usually guys have a problem with me. It’s not that I’m super stunningly beautiful or anything although I consider myself not bad looking. But I’m kind of straight forward. So there’s that. <br /><br /> But this guy… Well, this guy really didn’t play fair. Sitting on the bench in the corner of a booth with his arms crossed and his glasses slightly askew, watching people dance with the undeniable coolness of indifference from under the bangs of dark brown hair that were falling into his face, how should I have known? I just needed a place to sit because these shoes aren’t made for walking. Or dancing for that matter. Fact is, I needed them to be off and I needed a place to put my glass of whatever bought by whoever and his booth just happened to be nearby. Of course I also happened to start a conversation because that’s me. Cant’ help it. Besides, there were salted peanuts in a small bowl sat in front of him which he didn’t seem to eat anyway and when you are devouring someone else’s food it is common decency at least to talk to them while you do it. Or so I assume. <br /><br /> Thinking about it, there were plenty of hints. For once: his speech. But the thing is, during the wee hours of morning in a crowded club while shouting across a sticky table and over the beats of the newest remix of the latest top-of-the-charts act, you don’t exactly expect people to flawlessly recite Hamlet. If his speech was kind of slurred and I caught only half of it, so what? No one cares. It’s not the first time two people in a bar have spent the night conversing about two completely different subjects and still woke up in the same bed on the following morning. <br /><br /> So… call me inattentive if I thought he was simply a little tipsy. <br /><br /> And straws. God forbid the invention of straws as additions to bar drinks. Because how can you tell anything about the person sitting across from you when all they are doing all night is leaning forward just so to capture the tiny straw between their lips – and oh those lips by the way – to take a sip and that is it? Like, come on, give us a little help here! A small notice beforehand. A warning sign, waving flags, anything. Maybe add a few blaring sirens just to make sure and because it’s really, really loud in clubs nowadays. No one knows why. Maybe because the shit that is called music can only be suffered when your last bit of brain is blasted out of your ear canals. But what do I know? <br /><br /> Anyway, I don’t appreciate surprises. I am the surprise. I like to be in control and I like to pick my own battles. Usually I’m the one winning. My strength is not so much talent or accuracy but endurance. I already mentioned that trait, I can talk someone to death. <br /><br /> I mean literally, I’m sure I could. <br /><br /> “What I’d really want to know is: why do you guys love it? I mean, attraction to the male counterpart is the only reason us girls even consider wearing these torture devices. Except for the fact that they come in pretty handy if you want to stab someone to death in a dark alley because, let’s face it, they are a hell of a killing machine. Right now though they are only killing one person and that’s me. I’m kinda sure that’s not how it’s meant to be. But again: why? What’s the reason? Do you like to watch us struggle to walk? Seems sick to me.” <br /><br /> I think his eyebrows lifted in amusement. It was hard to tell because of all that hair that had fallen into his face, obscuring part of it. Honestly, what is it with hair, nowadays? Somehow, it needs to be everywhere, on the head, down to over the eyes, with bushy eyebrows and dense beards for the rest. A camouflage made of self-renewing, self-attaching body cells. Though, beards are sexy, I get that part. And his hair was nice, in a way, unruly, fluffy and soft. I suppressed the impulse to reach over the table and run my hand through it. He threw his head back a little and cleared his face from it. It’s also possible that this was the first time he actually saw me in full. <br /><br /> “I don’t know.” The skin around his brown eyes crinkled as he grinned and his eyes were… Well, they had the ability to smile more evenly than his lips, that’s for sure. <br /><br /> Yeah, I admit it, he was cute. <br /><br /> My fingers worked on the tiny clasps at my shoes, fumbling to get that small hook to open and quickly. Quite a task to do when the middle-aged guy sitting further away at the bar is nearly falling off his stool in an attempt to catch a glimpse under my skirt and every other male and some females included are waiting for my boobs to spring free while I’m bent over. <br /><br /> “Whatever it is, it’s just plain cruel. Anyway, do you mind?” <br /><br /> He shook his head and I dumped the last handful of peanuts into my mouth. I can speak with my mouth full, no problem there. <br /><br /> “Do you know the only thing that helps relieving hurting feet?” <br /><br /> “Alcohol? Oral administration,” he deadpanned. <br /><br /> I blinked. He was good. Or maybe just not as drunk as I'd thought. “Yes, that too.” <br /><br /> His grin grew even more lopsided. “I could give you a foot rub, if you’d like.” He said it with more confidence than most would have, I granted him that. <br /><br /> Ha! “You wish. No, doofus. The only thing that really helps is dancing.” <br /><br /> He frowned skeptically. <br /><br /> “No, really,” I insisted, realizing I had to elaborate. I finally managed to free my feet and pulled them up on the bench as well. Wow, heaven. “I know it sounds counterproductive but it works. It’s some kind of military trick or something. Or a professional dancer trick? I don’t know. If it hurts, you’ve got to keep going, you know? That’s the only way it’ll get better. Besides, it’s only called art if blood is involved. Or so I heard.” <br /><br /> A shit-eating grin. “Yeah see… I don’t believe that.” <br /><br /> “Well, you’ll have to try it to be sure.” <br /><br /> He shrugged. “Too bad. I don’t dance.” <br /><br /> “I’m not saying you’re supposed to dance all the time. It’s okay to rest, occasionally. Yes sure, the tables are here for sitting at them although most people seem to disregard that fact. Quite rude, actually. And the owner of this club will definitely praise you for raising his income by buying drinks and staying out of the way of waiters instead of sweating on the dance floor. My feet would of course give you credit as well, if you asked them, but who does and what do they know? They are just stupid appendices that happen to be at the end of my legs. They don’t have the perspective to allow them to know what’s good for them.” <br /><br /> He fidgeted a little in his seat but merely chuckled. <br /><br /> Geez, he was a hard nut to crack. “Oh come on, this song just demands it, how can you not hear its calling?” He stared at me and I sighed. “It’s yelling: fucking dance with that gorgeous girl already!” I got up and extended my hand to him. I intended to do it gallantly but whoops. Whatever had been in that drink that I had just downed, it made the room spin around, people and everything else in it included. <br /><br /> The back of his hand nudged the glasses up again that kept sliding back down his nose. They remained slightly askew and I tilted my head a little to match them. “Still not dancing,” he repeated, with a slight edge to his voice. “But I would buy you another one of this…” he pointed with his chin to my empty glass, “If you like.” <br /><br /> I hesitated but then I fell down in my seat again, succumbing to gravity and his stubbornness. Whatever. The night was long and I’d never really liked that song anyway. “Okay, you get to buy me one drink but in return you’ll dance with me after I finish. Deal?” <br /><br /> In my opinion it was a pretty solid offer but he wasn’t one to fool. “What about this: I buy you two drinks and we keep sitting here?” <br /><br /> Man, I assumed he was doing this professionally. Probably he had an appointment to negotiate peace in the Middle East next week. What’s the job title again? <br /><br /> “Preschool teacher,” he mumbled. Oh duh, I’d spoken my thoughts out loud, apparently. <br /><br /> He scooted forward a little and then ducked down under the table. Was he searching for his bag? Maybe finally a man who didn’t destroy the shapes of his delicious buttocks by wrenching a purse in his pockets. Thank you by the way, thinking about us girls for once. <br /><br /> Well, apparently he hadn’t been searching for his purse. Nope. <br /><br /> I think you know the look. The deer in front of the headlights, the cow in a thunderstorm, the baby seal nose to nose with the ice bear. Well, generally cute and stupid animals confronted with imminent danger. That was me right there. Probably not all that cute and not as furry, but you get the image. <br /><br /> “Are you okay?” There was genuine concern in his voice, I registered that, although my brain was rapidly filling with thick fog. I mean more than usually. It made me wish I had thought of bringing a navigation device with me. Some kind of master plan what to do in a situation like this. Because I was totally and utterly not prepared to deal with it. <br /><br /> Pilot to base. Mayday, mayday! I’m losing height! <br /><br /> Have I mentioned that I’m a talkative person? That I can never shut up? That I have a mouth that is running more than the Niagara Falls? Well. There’s only one type of situation that causes me to fall completely silent. That makes me draw my blinds and hide behind them, sneaking looks and hoping no one will notice me watching. I’ve been there before. Only this time I could not see a way out. Newbies’ mistake, really. Always make sure your back is covered and keep an eye on the exit. <br /><br /> He scooted to the end of the bench and placed the tip of the wooden cane that he had collected from under the bench on the sticky floor. His left hand raised to sweep his hair out of his field of vision and to push his glasses up again. Not the floppy, uncoordinated movements of a drunk, not that at all. My insides churned as I repeated the motion in my head over and over again, the pieces of a puzzle falling into their places. <br /><br /> “You sure you’re alright?” He was bent forward, caught somewhere in the middle of the process of standing up, studying me more closely. “Maybe a glass of water for a change? Just a suggestion.” <br /><br /> I shook my head, eyes transfixed on his white knuckles on the cane’s head, my tongue heavy and useless in my mouth. “Huh?” <br /><br /> “I said,” he repeated himself with a badly disguised sigh, grimacing as if this happened frequently, “nothing to wake your senses but an Espresso MartiNo.” <br /><br /> What even was that? I found myself unable to ask, though. He reached over with his left arm, managed to grab me by the shoulder and gently shook me. That probably jolted some brain cells back into their original slots. Thank god. <br /><br /> “Uh… I’m fine. All peachy. Really.” <br /><br /> “Yes?” <br /><br /> Uh-huh. Totally not. “Totally, yes.” I swear, I could barely hear myself over the ringing in my ears. Or maybe it was the music. Scratch that. <br /><br /> “Okay...?” he said, still concerned apparently but ready to believe me. “Because you’ve been…” <br /><br /> Quiet, I know. Eerily. I’m aware it’s scary. It is to me. <br /><br /> “Well, forget it.” He pushed on his cane and rose to stand straight. Somewhat straight. “Come on then.” He took a couple of precarious steps, using the cane for balance, swaying as he pulled one foot in front of the other with quite some practiced effort. <br /><br /> I blinked at him. <br /><br /> He had twisted his upper body to look back at me, the frown settling in his face as if intended to stay. “Uh… two glasses and one free hand,” he said slowly. “And I’m not exactly a pro at carrying liquids.” <br /><br /> I lifted my eyes, narrowly missed his bent legs, somehow managed to circumvent his left arm that had drawn closer to his body with his fist turning in and succeeded in landing on his face. Nice touchdown, captain. I saw realization dawning there, that sad, broken type. The soul crashing, shit, how could she be so oblivious, type of thing. The please don’t say anything, the just let me get the fuck out of here and do not let us draw this out look. <br /><br /> Sometimes when you’re falling and you realize that you forgot to strap on your parachute, like you sometimes forget to put on make-up in the morning and only notice when you look in the mirror during pee break and wonder why you look so fucking crashed, there’s no sense in fighting back. Because gravity is acting on everything and that’s only natural. And sometimes you come to the realization that losing is just winning looked at from a different angle. Then all is left to do is turn your clothes into a wingsuit on the long way back to earth. Hope you got some badass sewing skills. <br /><br /> I took the plunge. His eyes widened when I latched onto his left arm. Maybe I shouldn’t have drunk that much because we totally competed for the most unstable walk in that club. Minus those people who had given up on walking altogether and were slumped against a wall or on the floor, wondering which way was up, how to unstuck their skin from the icky ground, and if you can stave off hangovers by simply not going to bed at all, and burning as many brain cells over those questions as Newton had over his law of gravitation. Compared to them we were totally ruling. The motherfucking masters of walking in a straight line. Doubles team. <br /><br /> “You know what?” I directed a flickering smile at him, white teeth waving the flag of surrender. <br /><br /> “Huh?” His eyes temporarily lost the look of focused concentration and for a moment he faltered, almost stumbled, but caught himself in the last second, ramming his cane in the floor. Hanging onto his arm, swaying as well, I noticed I probably wasn’t helping much but there was no fucking way I would let go now. God knows what would happen then, I might just take off into air or crash to the ground. For all I knew, I was soaring. So fuck anyone who thought differently. But at least I wasn’t the only person now who had temporarily switched back to pre-language state. <br /><br /> “What about taking our drinks outside?” Everyone knows that invitation. But most importantly I needed the whiff of fresh air on my face. <br /><br /> With a lurching step that had the same effect on my stomach as an air pocket he turned to look at me. “Depends.” I couldn’t read the expression on his face. <br /><br /> “On what?” Where were the oxygen masks when you needed them? <br /><br /> “Do you always talk that much?” The corners of his lips twitched. <br /><br /> I squeezed his arm, much tighter than intended and exhaled. “Hm… not always,” I said, with an effort on bravery, and took another step closer. His breath on my face tasted of alcohol and mint. And his lips... <br /><br /> Well okay, I admit it. There’s one more way to make me shut up. But only one.Lovishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02114730183495454234noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4602000112951135525.post-89095495765368594912022-10-24T22:57:00.001-07:002022-10-24T22:57:00.165-07:00Stories by EJ: A Set of Robes<p>First of all, a huge THANK YOU to everyone who has decided to support me on <a href="https://www.patreon.com/ejwrites?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator" target="_blank">Patreon</a>!! I can't express how honored I am that you are doing so and I hope you are enjoying it so far! :) <br /><br />On advice from DevoGirl (and a few others) and after seeing how some other Patreons were structured, I think I've decided the best model is to use my Patreon as an "Early Access" pass for stories I post here. While I'm creating and posting at least one new story per month on Patreon, I won't keep to that strict of a schedule here. The shorts will eventually be posted here for free, but I don't know how regularly. For now, any long form stories, story prompt exercises, and updates on WIPS will remain exclusive to Patreon as an extra perk for those supporters. <br /></p><p>If you're interested in early access and more content, <a href="https://www.patreon.com/ejwrites?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator" target="_blank">please check out my Patreon here</a>! </p><p>And as promised, here's another little short: <a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/07/a-set-of-robes.html" target="_blank">A Set of Robes</a>. It can stand on its own, but I kind of think of it as a companion to <a href="http://stories.paradevo.net/2020/08/will-you.html" target="_blank">Will You</a>? </p>EJhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14335662522263515781noreply@blogger.com0