A SOOTHING HAND
“Emily,” Martin said, coughing.
“N-n-not quite,” came the stuttering reply.
Martin opened his eyes, and wearily rolled his head to the right side.
He saw his cousin, Summer, sitting in a chair.
She actually looked kind of pretty today, dressed in a green dress, which seemed to flatter her lean and tall body.
And, if it weren’t for the permanent pissed off expression, or the fact that she had shaved the sides of her head, or that she didn’t look very feminine, and instead looked very boyish, kind of like Peter Pan—then she might actually have been beautiful.
“M-m-mom had to work an e-e-e…,” Summer stammered. Her face flushing with embarrassment.
“Late, Summer spat out, finally. “S-S-So I’m s-s-stuck b-b-babysitting you.”
“Where am I?” Martin groaned. His head felt dopey, and it hurt to talk.
“In t-t-the h-hosp-p-ital,” she spat out, adding, “Dumbass.”
The sole word she could say without any trouble.
“Where’s Emily?” Martin rasped.
“W-who?” Summer asked, innocently, and then she leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. “You m-mean t-that girl w-w-with the f-f-fucked up face? Y-y-you like h-her?”
Summer started to laugh.
Martin wanted to punch his cousin in the throat. He didn’t, mostly because it felt like someone had punched him in the throat.
“W-w-what m-makes you think t-that s-she wants anything t-t-to do w-with y-you?” She said, and evil grin on her face.
“Hi Martin,” Emily’s voice chirped.
Emily walked into the room.
“Summer,” Emily said, but Martin couldn’t help, but hear the disdain in Emily’s voice.
Summer made an ugly face. Then she got up, and silently left the room.
Emily shook her head, and sat down.
She dropped her book bag on the floor.
The bag had a picture of a cartoon bear on it, from some show Martin couldn’t remember the name of.
Emily looked beautiful, as she always did.
A brief awkward silence passed between them, and then Emily laughed.
“Oh my god,” Emily said, her face almost as red as the scars on her cheeks. “I thought I killed you.”
“What?” Martin asked.
“This is going to sound really stupid,” Emily said. “But, um, I thought because you didn’t get to finish, you know, all your, um, stuff, backed up and, you know, poisoned you or something.”
Emily laughed nervously.
Martin thought for a moment, and then said, “No, I think that’s scientifically accurate.”
“Oh really,” Emily said. “That’s good to know. Rest assured your balls will always be empty on my watch. I’m sure we can find you a nice, fat, toothless old hag to take care of that for you.”
“I didn’t known Ms. Gillespie was looking for another job,” Martin said.
Emily laughed, and Martin realized that he really liked the way she laughed.
Liked how her head titled back, slightly, and giggled with girlish enthusiasm.
“But seriously,” Emily said. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you just go to the hospital?”
“I really wasn’t thinking with my big head,” Martin said.
“MARTIN ZALL!” Emily said in an exaggerated fashion. “What has gotten into you?”
“Some kind of pain medicine, I think,” Martin answered truthfully.
Emily scooted her chair closer to the bed, and awkwardly laid her head on her chest.
“God, it was so horrible,” Emily said. “The paramedics had to shove a tube down your throat just so you could breathe right again. And, God Martin, you were so pale, like a ghost.”
Martin took a chance, and stroked her head.
She didn’t complain, and Martin began to wonder where else he could stroke her.
“My dad had a talk with Billy and Trunk,” she said. “I mean it’s pretty obvious who did this to you. He couldn’t arrest them, though, because…”
“Plausible deniability,” Martin gasped.
“Yeah,” Emily said. “No witnesses, but my dad put the fear of God into them…well Billy anyway. Trunk is too stupid to be threatened. So, hopefully they won’t be bothering you again.”
Great, Martin thought, I must look like a complete loser to her.
Emily sat up. Her lips pulling back into a mischievous smile.
“Question,” she said, “what was your little head thinking about when you came to visit me last night.
Martin faced flushed red, and he closed his eyes.
“Are you closing your eyes, so you can picture me naked?” She asked, laughing.
Martin felt her hand dropped to his thigh.
A few seconds later, he shifted uncomfortably in his bed.
“Uh oh,” Emily said. “Looks like we got a big problem here. Better call Ms. Gillespie. Wouldn’t want you to get backed up again.”
Martin opened his eyes, and saw Emily both smiling and biting her lip.
She looked adorable.
Emily leaned forward.
Her lips tasted like cherries.
She pulled back, trucking a few strands of her dark hair behind her ear.
She laughed, a shaky nervous laugh.
Martin heard her sigh.
Then her lips sought his again.
They don’t stop at just one.
Their kisses are eager, alternating between timid and lustful.
This is the “Getting to Know You” faze of their relationship.
The more intimate faze begins when she pushes her tongue into his mouth.
Their tongues dance, mingling together before finally pulling apart.
Emily pulls away, sighing.
They say nothing, and there is nothing to be said.
Emily’s tongue darts across her lips.
She scans the room, and seeing that they are alone, her hand moves forward.
He jumps slightly, as her cold fingers wrap around the bulge of his hospital gown.
“Oh Martin,” she cries. Her breath still shaking.
She begins to stroke him.
Her efforts are timid at first, as she is not a practiced hand.
Nevertheless, Martin groans with each stroke. Enjoying the sensation, despite his cock being caught in-between the folds of his hospital gown.
Seeing the effect that she’s having on him, Emily increases her pace.
Martin grits his teeth.
He’s ready to explode, but is desperately trying to hold back—in part to impress her, but also, because he doesn’t wants this to end.
But, try as he might, release is at hand.
He hears Emily yelp in surprise, as a massive load sprays across the front of his gown, and then drips down onto his thigh.
Spent, Martin utters a shaky groan.
“Wow,” Emily said, as she wipes her sinful hand on the front of his gown.
“I’ve never done that with a guy before,” she admits, her entire face going red.
“A girl has never done that to me either,” Martin confessed.
“So you were gay, before today?” Emily asks, giggling.
“Sometimes I use my other hand, if that counts,” Martin answers.
The conversation lulled, and a long awkward silence followed
The awkwardness of teenagers who had just done something very adult, and now were not sure how to feel about it.
Emily broke the tension with a kiss.
The natural reaction, Emily thought, would be to say “I love you.”
But, she still wasn’t sure how she felt about this strange boy.
He looked so cute, even cuter now without his glasses.
But, Emily could also see why he didn’t much success with the girls.
He was too quiet, too shy, and he let people walk all over him.
Worst, or perhaps best (she wasn’t sure which), of all he had sad puppy dogs eyes.
But, she could see the hurt in his eyes too.
What happened to you, she wondered.
She could make him better.
They could make each other better.
He smiled up at her, and she shyly returned his smile.
She needed to be closed to him, and so laid her head on his chest again.
He draped a hand on her back.
She felt so warm and safe with him.
Her eyes began to droop, and…
“Emily,” a voice called out to her, startling her awake.
“Emily,” she heard again, harsher this time.
Emily sat up, rubbing her eyes, and saw her father standing in the hallway.
She looked down at Martin.
His eyes were closed, and it looked like he had also fallen asleep.
“Come on,” her father said. “Martin will be home in a couple of days, and you can visit him then.
Emily silently nodded.
She was in no mood to argue with her dad right now.
She got up, and bent over slightly to grab her book bag.
Almost immediately, she could feel his eyes staring at her ass.
She quickly spun around, flashing Martin a sly smile.
“Bye Martin,” Emily chirped.
Then a wild idea struck her.
She leaned over him, pushing her chest out slightly for him to get a good look.
“Hope you feel better,” she said, almost adding, “Because, I can’t wait for you to shove that big dick inside of me.
But, she lost her nerve, and instead kissed him on the forehead.
She stood up, a giant smile lighting up her face.
Emily passed at the door, and briefly waved at Martin, but her dad grabbed her sleeve and gently pulled her out the door.
Martin listened as Emily and her dad walked down the hallway.
“What were you doing in there?” Sheriff Joe asked.
“God, nothing,” Emily said. “Just seeing if he was okay.”
They disappeared down the hall, and Martin was now alone.
Without Emily there, whatever energy he had quickly evaporated, as whatever pain killers and sedatives they had him on reasserted themselves in his system.
He found himself starting to drift away.
His cousin, Summer, returned at some point.
For some reason, he found himself keenly aware that she held a Romance novel in her hand, probably a recent purchase from the gift shop downstairs.
Groggily, he watched as she sat down, opened the book, and began to read.
Without taking her eyes off the page, she stammered, “Your d-d-dick is h-hanging out of y-y-your g-g-gown, dumbass.”
TO BE CONTINUED...