Therapy after Surgery {Redman} {MF Rom caution}
Author's note: Today's couple has a fantasy life that
might not appeal to some viewers. adults often
act out childhood realities and fantasies. In loving
relationships, the needs of one's partner should be
preeminent.
Comments and corrections can be sent to
redman@seductive.com. Intended for readers
only. No one under age may be admitted.
Therapy After Surgery
It was wonderful to have my home for the first
time since her hysterectomy. The operation had gone
well and she was recovering fine. Still, her
and sisters fawn over her in such a way that she feels
more comfortable staying at her mother's house while
recovering than at our home.
Besides, apparently a hysterectomy invokes deep
feminine magic requiring only those bodies that have
been purified by estrogen to assist in the healing
process. At least, that the way it feels to me
sometimes.
That's stating the case a bit too harshly I know, but
it's been a long week and a half and I've missed her
terribly. It's good to see her in our home again, to
touch her and hold her more intimately than it's been
possible to do either in the hospital or at her
mother's.
"You look great, honey! I can't believe you're walking
around so well already."
"That's only because of the pain pills, believe me.
When I tried to give off of them a couple of nights
ago, I like hell the next morning."
"Here, let me get that for you. Why don't you sit down
and save your strength?"
"I'm OK, Greg. Just let me do what I can while I have
a little energy. I can't tell you how good it feels to
be in my own home again, surrounded by my own things.
I just want to touch everything once while I'm here."
"Why don't you just stay? Don't go back! I'll take off
for the next couple of days and take care of you
and..."
"You already took off for the surgery and while I was
in the hospital. You need to work. And you have to
take care of our son, driving him every damn place in
the world with his busy schedule. You don't have time
to take care of me too. You know we've discussed
this."
"I know. I didn't mean to upset you, really! I know
you have to stay over there. That doesn't mean I won't
miss you so much though. I miss not having my at
home!"
"I know, baby! It's OK. Just hold me for a while."
Later, when she was tired, I put her on our bed for a
nap. She took her clothes off and let me hold her
naked body reverently. Her pale skin was radiant
against the deep violet sheets with the black flowers.
They were her favorite sheets.
I didn't dare remove my clothes because even after ten
days of self-abuse, I still had a raging hard-on just
looking at her.
But I couldn't not touch her. My hands wandered
familiar, well-explored territories that I have come
to love so much: the undersides of her heavy breasts,
her forehead, her temples, her elbows and the
prominent cocoa colored birthmark on her side. I gave
her birthmark a sweet little kiss and called her "my
little colored girl." That made her giggled for the
first time, just as I had hoped.
"Now let me rest a minute, dear. I'm so tired all of
the sudden."
"Of course, honey. Just rest. As long as you like."
As I made to rise from the bed, she stopped me with
her hand on my arm.
"Greg, before you go, just touch me there, please?"
"Are you sure it's OK? Can I?"
"Of course. Just be gentle."
As tenderly as I can, I lightly lay my hand on my
wife's incision. It's a fierce, ragged wound that runs
all the way across the lower portion of her belly,
just on top of the Cesarean scar where our son was
taken from her womb twelve years ago. I had expected
this one to look the same, but it was longer and was a
more violent attack against her body than I had
expected.
Even so, it was a part of her now. With my hand on her
belly, I made my peace with her wound. It would be
inseparable from the woman I love. I hadn't come to
love it yet, like I did every other part of her, but
it wasn't the enemy anymore.
To her credit, my indulged me for as long as I
needed. Then she corrected my misunderstanding.
"Not there, silly. Touch me lower. Please, I need to
feel your fingers touch me."
Oh, so that was what she meant. With a small laugh at
my own foolishness, I lowered my touch to lightly
brush my wife's precious vulva. It was the most sacred
place in the world to me, the place of all my deepest
desires and richest fantasies. It was also a familiar
friend and I had missed it so much the last ten days.
This was no backseat grope, though. She sighed, but it
was not the sigh of the aroused. It was the sigh of a
woman who thought never to be touched again for the
rest of her life. For a moment, I almost thought that
she honestly believed that I wouldn't love her once
her ovaries were removed.
"That's enough. It feels nice though. Do I still feel
like a woman, Greg?" she asked softly.
"Of course, you do Marjorie! You're still the most
beautiful, sexiest woman in the world to me."
"I still feel like a woman to me, too. I was
surprised. I thought I'd feel like a after the
surgery," she whispered, as though making some secret
confession.
"Don't you think I knew that that was what you were
thinking. You're still my wife, Marjorie. I'm going to
love you forever, much less after something like
this."
She had tears in her eyes. Maybe I had reassured her
for at least the next five minutes. After that, she'd
probably need me to tell her the same thing again.
"OK. You've done your job. Now let me rest for a
little, will you."
I wandered out the door, leaving it cracked just a bit
in case she needs me. I piddle around, cleaning
anything up that won't make noise. I call over to our
son's best friend's house just to make sure everything
was OK. I told him that his was sleeping, so
why didn't he stay for at least another couple of
hours. There'd be plenty of time for him to spend with
her before she has to go.
Later, when she calls me into the room, she is
apparently more rested. I immediately catch the
mischievous look in her eye. I get a little hard every
time I see that look.
"Come here, Daddy. Get under the covers and tell your
little a story."
"Marjorie, are you sure? It's so soon."
"Maybe it was that estrogen shot they gave me, but
I've been horny for days now. Please, do it! Just be
gentle."
"OK, but tell me the moment it feels uncomfortable,
please."
"I will. You know how much I hate pain. If I bite your
ear off, it hurts too much."
I knew she was joking. Still, my ears had smarted more
than once.
"Where do you want to go today, little girl?" I asked
her in my best "Daddy" voice.
My hand reached down and gently touched her vagina,
slowly starting to play lightly along the tender lips.
Really, this was not so very different when I thought
of it. In her stories, Marjorie was always such a
little that I had to treat her gently.
"I want to go to the pool, Daddy."
"We can go to the pool sweetheart, but you'll have to
wear the new suit I bought you last week. You know the
one."
"The one that's too small in the bottom? Oh Daddy, my
cheeks keep popping out of that one."
"That's why Daddy bought it, baby girl. But don't
worry, Daddy will always be right beside you to pull
it down whenever it rides up on your precious bottom."
"Those ladies over there that are watching us think
that you pull down my bathing suit way too much, Daddy."
"What do they know? They probably never had a good
Daddy like yours that would pull their bottoms down
every time it was needed."
When Marjorie didn't respond except to groan, I knew
that she was beginning to get into the feel of the
story. Her head was back. Her eyes were closed, but I
could see the rapid eye movement under the lids.
Surprisingly, I felt a little moisture in her vagina,
so I continued to stroke and encourage it.
"See those women over there, though. The ones with the
sunglasses. They're looking at us too, even though you
can't see their eyes. They're the ones that had good
Daddies and they're remembering what it felt like when
their Daddy touched them too."
That drew a moan. That was always one of Marjorie's
favorites. I spoke a little longer, elaborating on
what the grown women were remembering and how I was
going to do the same things to my little just as
soon as we got home from the pool. I could tell Marj
was getting even more excited. It worried me, with her
incision. It inspired me, with my denial-based
arousal.
"Somewhere different. You decide!" she asked in a
strained, raspy voice.
I had to think quick. "Let's go to the zoo. Do you
want to visit the today? The elephants? The
horses?"
Marjorie just shook her head, frustrated. I had to
pull an favorite out of the hat, and quickly.
"Let's just let you climb this little fence and stand
in front of Daddy watching the then. I love
you're little dress today, sweetheart. Daddy's
looks so pretty in her new dress."
This brought the moan that I was searching so
frantically for. Now I could relax and get into it
with her again.
"I hope you didn't wear any panties, like I told you.
If you did Daddy might have to take them off you and
whip your little hiney right here in front of
everyone."
She was getting much closer. Even though my little
girl's spankings are tender things, I didn't really
feel up to it right now. I wanted to be sweet to my
wife today.
"See, when your climbing the fence in front of me like
that I can reach underneath your dress and touch you.
Nobody even knows it, even though there are hundreds
of people all around us. Nobody can even see your
Daddy touching you sweetheart. It's our nasty little
secret."
And that was enough for Marj. Thankfully it wasn't a
violent cum. I had hoped that her body would prevent
her from doing that. I had been prepared to stop it,
even at the risk of loosing an ear.
But after she came, she relaxed more than I had ever
seen before. It was obviously a release that she
needed. Knowing my wife, she was probably worried the
whole time that she would never be able to again
after the surgery. She's a worrier, but I still love
her.
"You're a good man, Greg. And a good Daddy. When I
come home to stay, we'll have to visit the zoo more
often."
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