Broken

She was right, my erotic dreams had been getting stronger as the days went on, almost culminating with a wet dream the last time I slept, but now, with her hand tantalizing the nerve endings in the head of my cock, I came quite rapidly. She didn't stop immediately, expertly continuing the stroking until my cock stopped throbbing. Immediately she released my cock, took a Kleenex and wiped me up, and then washed me off, and put everything back together.

I didn't say anything, listening to her move around the room, putting everything away and then pulling the curtains back. "Have a good weekend," she said.

"Jennifer?"

"Do you do that for all your patients?"

"Only those that are special."

"And how many special patients are there?"

"Just one."

~

"Do I get another Friday going away present?" I asked a week later as Jennifer had just about finished.

"Can't this week."

"Why not?"

"I've got to chart it as a nocturnal emission, and it's only been a week."

Nocturnal emission, there was that word again. Before this hospital stay, I'd had exactly one wet dream in my life. Sometime after those euphemistic sex ed classes, but before I started playing with myself -- masturbating - which I'd regularly done since then. By the time I was in high school, they'd stopped. I masturbated often enough, usually every day and multiple times, that I never had another.

"So? Don't chart it. Just help me out and then when we do it again next week you can chart it then."

"Hmmm." It wasn't a no; it wasn't a yes. I thought she wasn't going to do it, until after I realized she'd finished what she was doing. She left my bedside momentarily, again coming back with her hand covered in lubricant. This time there was no questioning, her hand readily gripped and caressed my cock. "You know if anyone ever found out, I'd probably lose my job?"

"They won't find out from me." I grunted, and seconds later exploded in orgasm. Once more she didn't immediately relinquish gripping my cock.

"What do you look like?" I whispered, as I was slowly recovering.

"What do you think I look like?" she answered, whispering back as she cleaned my semen from my belly.

"I don't know, all I can imagine is that girl I had the crush on."

"What did she look like?"

I closed my eyes, although it didn't make any difference as I couldn't see anything anyway, and remembered Teresa. "I guess she just matured a bit before everyone else? I thought she had huge tits, but they were just bigger than all the other girls at the time. Everyone else had flea bites or a bit more, but only Teresa and a couple of other girls actually needed bras. They were as big as oranges, I remembered where she used to sit, two rows over and one seat ahead so that I could easily look her way. She had a lot of sleeveless blouses that when she bent forward to write would leave her underarm exposed. Her bra would be visible, the bare flesh behind that and depending on the bra, some of her boob. Seldom was the day that I could just get up and leave that class without worrying about my erection showing.

"She ended up going to a different high school, and when I saw her, years later, her breasts weren't that much bigger. She wasn't much bigger, perhaps an inch or two taller? I guess she just developed early.

"I think she was Irish heritage. Yeah, I never thought about it really, but her last name was Macready, McGrady... something like that, so she was probably Irish. She was about 5 foot 4 when I first fell in lust for her, and had fiery red hair... and that Ivory white skin that so many redheads have. Absolutely gorgeous hair, almost down to her waist. I used to imagine her being Lady Godiva and riding by naked on a horse. She used to play girls soccer, one of the better players, and man could she fill out some shorts. When I saw her a couple of years later, she was about 5 foot 6."

"You'll never see me, will you?" Her voice, as she asked the question, seemed a bit sad.

"Probably not." I admitted, having finally come to terms with my blindness.

She sighed. "So, I guess it doesn't matter. That's a nice description, just keep that image in mind whenever you think of me, except I don't have red hair." She turned and walked away, calling out a "see you next week," at the door. She never said, but I don't think she logged my "wet dream" that day.

~

I'd like to say my Friday hand-job became a regular thing, but after all that time in the hospital, it turned out to be just once more. She did me the following Friday which she then logged as a nocturnal emission.

"I shouldn't tell you this," she whispered as she grasped my cock, stroking me firmly.

"Oh..." I groaned, my cock having gone from hard to ready to explode to her talented hand, "what?"

"You make me hot, too."

"I do?"

"I masturbated this morning, imagining doing this and imagining you were taking care of me, too." I still had no clue what Jennifer really looked like, but in my mind I imagined her, or rather I imagined Teresa's magnificent tits, her nipples filling my mouth, my hand slipping down to the orange muff between her legs, finding her wetness, finding her... I exploded to Jennifer's touch.

It was less than a week later when I unexpectedly found out I was being released. The doctor had come by Sunday, and told me they were going to pull the casts on Wednesday and see how things looked. The cast on my right arm came off, the cast on my left leg came off, and then when they pulled the cast on my left arm, the x-rays showed it hadn't totally set up properly yet. I had my hand forced into position, and another cast applied, and that remained for another three weeks. But in the meantime, once I was able to function with one hand just a little, and my leg was set so I could walk just a little, they started me on physical therapy and decided the best course was to let me go. From being kept completely off my feet, forcibly bedridden, I was only able to stand and take a couple of steps. Unfortunately, after almost 3 months without taking a step, my muscles had atrophied, and it was all I could do to take a step. The physical therapist had seen this before though, and forced me to try to walk. It was agony.

I never realized before then how much we use our eyes to walk. At first every step was a virtual stumble. There was no sureness to those first steps, no strength to my legs, each more of a shuffle forward as I expected to run into something, to stumble and fall. I was put back into the wheelchair and taken back to my room. When the doctor came by an hour later, he simply said, "Are you ready to go home?"

That was on Wednesday, and when I queried about "when" they said it would take several hours to get all the paperwork in order, but it would be that day. Wednesday -- my Angel's day off. She worked Monday-Tuesday and Thursday-Friday and I wasn't going to be there when she came back.

~

I had to learn to walk again.

No more could I look at a stair step and confidently stride up or down. No more could I walk across a floor without cringing, expecting a carpet edge to grab and trip me, a chair, or some other furniture, to leap in front of me and bruise my shin. I had to learn to use a white cane, tapping back and forth to clear the space ahead of me, and all at a snail's pace. Where I'd once run a near four-minute mile, I now took four minutes to walk to the bathroom, from 50 feet away. I learned through memory where everything was, at first limited to inside the house. I also learned to walk with a cane -- feeling the ground that I used to see.

The left arm cast lasted another three weeks, and then once again I was totally able to take my clothes off and put them back on alone, although very slowly; shower on my own, eat on my own, poop on my own, masturbate on my own. My mom had helped me wrap my cast in plastic so I had been showering on my own, before then, but I couldn't get my clothes on or off. Even though I hadn't been naked in front of my mother in probably ten years, she helped me get undressed, and into the shower. Luckily, I didn't pop a boner in front of her, but I couldn't help but wonder what she now thought of seeing her adult son naked.

The insurance paid for a seeing-eye dog, Pat. I didn't name him; he came with that name. I began working with Pat the month after I went home. Having someone to guide me, to do my seeing for me, was a great comfort knowing that I wasn't going to step into an open manhole, or even just a pothole, or in front of a moving car. My life was now being led by a dog. Supposedly I'd gone into a dog training class, but really it was a person training class. Pat came pre-trained, they just had to teach me how to understand what he was telling me.

Initially I'd gone into training for using a white cane, learning to sweep and tap, overcoming the fear that I was about to step into a hole, or run into a fence, and having a guide dog was an immense relief. Not only was he my eyes, but my constant companion, and I had to wonder how much he really understood when I talked to him.

And then, 6 months later, I went back to college. More than a year and a half after the accident I restarted, exactly where I'd been before, except that I was no longer running. I hadn't been all that great of a student before becoming blind, and now I found it much easier to concentrate and actually think about what I was being taught -- perhaps as I didn't have a whole lot of other distractions. No TV, no weekend dates, no girlfriends, no viewing porn on the internet and masturbating.

I didn't have any female distractions for quite a while, although from the sexual standpoint, my mind and body were still in the same place. I finally went on a date when I was asked out by Maria, and all I had to gauge her by was her voice. I surmised she was Hispanic, I could tell with her slight accent that she also spoke Spanish, but I didn't have a clue as to what she looked like. Was she tall, short, thin, fat? I didn't know for sure, but when she asked if maybe I'd like to take her out, I told her I don't usually take girls out anymore... but if she wanted to take me out it was probably a lot safer as my driving had deteriorated. I told her it wasn't me, I was an OK driver, but my dog, Pat, had flunked drivers training.

The date went ok, we seemed to hit it off ok, and I gradually learned a bit about her. A brush of her hair on my arm when I had my hand on her back let me know how long her hair was and that it was straight. She pulled my arm to her and snuggled to me, her breasts against my arm and I knew she was fairly well endowed. Her hand, guiding me by taking my arm, and I knew about how tall she was. Her smell; turning sideways and smelling her natural perfume, along with a light artificial one.

And then she took me home -- to her home. Taking me inside she had me sit on the couch, and then excused herself to go to the toilet. "Well?" I questioned when she came back. "What now? Want to watch some TV or a movie? Play some cards," I joked, "or..." she interrupted me by putting her hands on my shoulders and pushing me backwards on the couch. She straddled my legs, sitting in my lap and leaned forward her mouth finding mine. Kissing? Now that I still knew how to do, my hands coming up to touch her -- and finding nothing but skin. She hadn't 'slipped into something comfortable,' she'd slipped out of everything else.

"I want to fuck."

I'd never been to bed with a woman that I hadn't had a relationship with before, or that I had at least seen. We fucked, but I spent a lot of time exploring her body. Again, it was a totally new experience, exploring and learning her body by braille. Never having seen her breasts, to know that I wanted to fondle them. Never having seen her hair, to know that I wanted to stroke it. Never having seen her bottom to imagine lying naked with her, rubbing my cock on her, all of that being learned by touch. I used my hands to touch her face and arms and shoulders and back and butt and breasts, returning again and again to those magnificent orbs, to her magnificent bottom, with her getting hotter and hotter as they roamed her body.

I was fascinated, exploring everywhere because I could. I wasn't trying to slowly arouse her but, apparently, I was, as by the time my fingers found her pussy, she came almost instantly, and then she went down on me. This was a girl that knew how to suck cock, and did, and then when we'd both recovered just a bit, we fucked. This was a girl that knew how to fuck, and liked to. This was a girl that loved to have her pussy licked. It was a bit strange, for the first time not actually seeing my lover, but my hands and fingers and tongue all knew where to go and what to do. A dinner date turned into all night. I know we slept a little, but not that much. I found out that you don't need to see to be able to please your partner.

It also turned out to be a one-night stand. The sex had been good, phenomenal really, but there was something missing. Being driven home by the girl I'd just bedded, or rather -- that had just bedded me, I found myself wondering about Jennifer. What happened to her, was she still working at the hospital? What did she look like? What would she have tasted like? Jennifer had admitted to masturbating thinking about me, and I admit, I'd masturbated multiple times, since I'd been out of the hospital, thinking about her. Without even thinking about it, I knew it wasn't something I wanted to repeat with Maria, even before Maria said, "I had a good time. Want to do it again some time?" when she stopped in front of the house. I hesitated and that's all it took. "Yeah, I thought not. It just wasn't there, was it?"

"It was fun though," I said, not denying nor confirming her thoughts. I reached over and touched her face, letting my hand pull away. She nodded -- at least I presumed so, waited, and then said, "I can't hear you nodding your head."

"Huh?" She giggled, realizing what I was saying and said, "Then how did you know I was?"

"I'm beginning to get a bit of a sixth sense about those things." She stopped, and I opened the door, assuring her after she said exactly where I was that I could navigate my way up the walkway.w

"Jeff?"

"Yeah?"

"You were good. I had a good time."

"Thanks. You were too." For the first time, it crossed my mind -- could this have been a mercy fuck?

~

It was after a lecture class with a few hundred other students. With Pat leading the way to and from classes, and my blindness, I was allowed to have an assigned seat, near the door where Pat could lie beside me. I always waited until the room was almost empty before I'd leave, just to prevent being trampled by others who weren't paying attention. I'd stepped out of the lecture hall, heading to the commons to get a beer when I heard her voice.

I couldn't hear the words, but I knew the voice. I knew it was her, my Angel. She must have been facing away from me, I could hear her voice, but I could hear those talking to her better. I turned toward the sound, stepping towards the voice, and stopping, probably an arm's length from her. I was getting pretty good at judging distances with sound. I wasn't that close, but I could smell her. What was it, oranges, and lilac? It wasn't perfume, it was her. I just stood there for a moment, not knowing whether she had turned toward me or whether her friends had pointed me out, but there was no change. These talking friends were facing me, standing in a circle, or perhaps sitting on a bench. When she didn't acknowledge me, I was sure she was facing away.

"Excuse me," I interrupted, "I heard your voice -- are you Jennifer?" The talking girls all silenced, and I could sense her turning toward me.

"Oh My Gosh! Jeff!"

She took time to introduce me to her friends, explaining that she'd taken care of me while she'd been working at the hospital the previous year, and then gradually they almost all left. I told Jennifer the discharge had been so abrupt and unexpected and I regretting that I'd been unable to say goodbye. She denied that it was a problem, that going to work there was never any guarantee that she'd be seeing the same people that she had the previous shift, and that working with me had been her very longest patient.

"Listen, uhm... Jeff, I've got to get to another class, but uh, maybe I'll see you around?"

"Yeah, that would be alright. I'd like that." It took just a few seconds and she filled me in on when she was liable to be anywhere, when her classes were, and where I might meet up with her again. "Ok, I've gotta go. See you."

I smiled wryly to myself, and she realized what I was smirking at, her saying "see you" to a blind man. "Oops, I mean... uhm..."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, Angel."

"Angel?" She giggled. "Most everyone calls me Jenn."

I shook my head, "You'll always be my Angel, but I'll call you Jenn... in public." I gave just a brief pause, and said "Hey, Jenn?"

"Yeah?"

"See ya around."

She laughed and she began to move off, another person moving with her. "Is that the guy?" I heard a female voice say.

"Yeah, cute, isn't he?"

"Yeah. Does he know?" I didn't hear the response as they moved out of earshot, wondering from the question what it was that perhaps I should know but probably didn't.

I lay in bed that night thinking of my Angel. I'd thought of her relentlessly when I'd been released 6 months before, but gradually, over time, the memory of her voice, the vision in my mind of Teresa, or my Angel, had faded. Now, lying in bed, remembering her secret hand jobs, cleaning up the mess from my sexy dreams, I found myself getting hard at the thought. I'd imagined Teresa from years ago, now as a blond as Jenn had said she wasn't a red head, but Jennifer's voice was all that I could hear anymore. "Cute," she had said; she thought I was cute and had told her girlfriend that. It was Teresa's body I was imagining when I came, but now I was wondering just exactly what it was that my Angel looked like, but in my mind, as I came she looked like Teresa.

~

"Excuse me, Miss? I found this halo on the ground over there, and I think an Angel must have lost it..."

"Oh, Stop it!" Jennifer laughed, reaching out and slapping my arm. "Hello Pat," she said, and I could sense her reaching down and scratching his head.

"Excuse me... Miss? That's a working dog and I don't appreciate your..."

"Oh, stop it!" she giggled again, Pat's tail thumping against my leg saying he appreciated the attention and that Jennifer was perhaps more than 'just another person.' "What do you think boy, am I distracting you from doing your duties?"

"Oh no! I'm blind, my seeing eye dog isn't working as he should..."

"Well then, you'll just have to let me help guide you," she answered, standing back up and taking my hand.

It hadn't taken long, once we'd exchanged information, it was easy for me to arrange "bumping" into her. It also didn't take long for me to recognize that she was making an effort to find me also. Walking together almost always meant that she'd take my hand, despite Pat "leading." Although Jenn was well intentioned, she didn't have the training that Pat did, and there were several times when Pat suddenly came to a stop as Jenn nearly led me into a poor footing situation.

Between classes rapidly became before and after classes, although we were seldom alone, just the two of us. There were almost always some of her friends around, so we seldom talked intimately. Occasionally a new voice would show up and, as always when around people without sight, others seem to think that I also can't hear. There were multiple times I heard comments of "Oh he's cute!" or "OMG Jenn, who's your boyfriend?" or similar as they departed to classes.

~

"Hey Jenn," I started as we were headed towards the commons at the end of her last class for that day, perhaps a month later.