Forever: A Lobster Kind Of Love (19 page)

“Hey, Lyds?” I asked as she picked up my trail of peanut butter cup wrappers and I stared at her ass in my jeans.

“Yeah Ryan?”

“Wanna go out to the Rose Garden?”

She stopped picking up and looked up at me. “The bar?” she asked in a shocked tone.

“Yeah, the bar. That’s the only Rose Garden I know of in Eastport.” I chuckled.

She seemed to ponder this over.

“They have a Halloween bash there every year. We are already dressed. Unless you are tired, I understand.”

“Why not? Like you said, we are dressed. It would be a shame to let your awesome costume go to waste. How are we going to do this?”

I thought about it and grabbed a handful of new zip ties. “I have plenty. We can re-attach this when we get there. My chair should fit in the back of your SUV, unless you have been shopping again?”

“Nope, the back is empty,” she said.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, I have all my stuff together.”

“Okay then, let me use my bathroom since I don’t know if theirs will be cripple friendly.” Her face contorted in a grimace.

“What?” I asked.

“Why do you have to say stuff like that?”
Here we go
.

“What? Cripple? Why does that upset you? It doesn’t bother me. It’s the truth.”

“It’s just not a nice word, Ryan.”

“For who? Not me! I’m the one in the chair. Come here.” I could see she was visibly upset, and this wasn’t how I wanted the evening to go. She shuffled over to me with her head down. I pulled her towards me.

“I’m sorry if that word upsets you. Handicapped just sounds like a bathroom sign. Disabled sounds even worse, like I am out of commission. If you think of a better word, you tell me, and I will use it, okay?” She simply nodded, and I needed to bring the lighthearted mood back. Even if we didn’t go out, I didn’t want to see her this way.

“Hey, look at me. Come here. Sit down, please?” I patted my legs so there was no misunderstanding where I wanted her. She slowly sat down on my lap and looked up through her lashes and I lost all train of thought. I resisted the urge to kiss her and simply smoothed her hair out of her face and curled it behind her ears. “Let’s go get a drink, okay? Maybe we will make it in time for the costume contest. My friend Pedro said back in rehab that no one could lose to a crip…I mean, a man in a wheelchair. So let’s go win something.”

The smile returned to her face, and she climbed off me and grabbed her big zebra purse and car keys. I used the bathroom and met her by the door. “You ready, Mr. Gannon?”

“Let’s go!”

I was finally getting out of the house, besides routine doctor’s appointments and clinic visits. I had a beautiful woman next to me in a car, not in the back of an ambulance. My upper body strength was in my favor as I found the handle above the door to pull up on. Thank God it didn’t fold down, and it was straight affixed to the frame.

Since she had an SUV, it also had a handle on the dash. Although I doubted Lydia was doing any off-road maneuvers, in this case it worked in my favor. As I pulled up on the handle of the frame and grabbed onto the glove box handle, it provided the extra handhold I needed and I slid into the passenger seat.

Lydia pulled my memory foam seat off and tossed it in the backseat then folded and hoisted my chair into the trunk hatch. I felt like an ass just sitting there while Lydia had to lift my chair. My ego was taking a serious hit on this one.

When Lydia climbed into the driver’s seat, my spirit was renewed by her smile. I didn’t want to be her burden, but she smiled from ear to ear.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I am just amazed at how you climb in and around stuff. You are like a spider monkey.” She said with a giggle as she turned the key in the ignition.

I simply shrugged and said, “I have been practicing.”

“I can see that!” she shook her head as we pulled out of the driveway and made the short drive to the Rose Garden.

The place was as I remembered it. Nothing really changed too much in town. Lydia parked then hopped out to set up my wheelchair and then reality struck me. This was a far drop. I quickly tried to think of a game plan.

“Hey, Lyds. How far does this seat go back?”

“Pretty far, why, what’s up?” she asked looking worried.

“I don’t have a lower grip so I need to slide down or it’s going to be a rough, hard, and possibly not so good landing.”

“Oh! Yeah let’s do the sliding thing then. Hold on.” She reached between my legs and grabbed the seat lever and sent the seat sliding back.
Perfect
. I slid off the seat into the wide-open floor well.

Dangling my legs, now I just had to stick the swivel and landing. “Lydia, now do me a favor and bring my chair over here and just hold my feet together, please?” She positioned my chair flush against the door and locked the wheels before coming to my right and holding my feet together.

“All you have to do is hold them so that they stay together. Once I slide down, you can let go, okay?” I asked as she nodded and held onto my sneakers.

I slid down and pulled up with both arms on the door’s armrest and swiveled around. With the door guiding me, I sat down in my chair.

Not bad for a first run
. Lydia fixed my feet in the foot pedals as I buckled in. She pulled out the lobster cage and I zip-tied it back in place on my chair. Donning my lobster claw mitts once more, I snapped them at her with a not so gentle threat of a pinch. I wouldn’t mind a handful of ass, but I didn’t want to push my luck.

“Let’s go get that drink.” I said excitedly. Lydia pushed me through the doors of the Rose Garden; stunned faces and a brief silence followed by thunderous welcomes resounded.

Al was the first to approach me, “Welcome back, Ryan. It’s good to see you out and about. Blue Moon?” he asked with a smirk.

Al poured a tall draft laced with extra oranges and kept it filled in front of me. I only drank three pints because for one, I don’t know how much my bladder could handle. Secondly, I didn’t want to be that drunk asshole in the wheelchair.

I had a nice buzz going on and as predicted, no one was going to lose to a guy in a wheelchair dressed as a lobster in a cage. We won over an 80’s glam rock band, a Tarzan and Jane couple, and the rest who entered in the couple/group category. I actually thought the rock band should have won just to recoup the investment in makeup and all the hairspray to pull off those hairdos. I didn’t feel so bad though because the lead singer entered the solo male category and won, then sang three songs in character. The prize was $100 gift card, but I gave it to Lydia. If it weren’t for her I wouldn’t be here at all. She deserved it for putting up with my ass every day.

Yeah, I didn’t need any more beer. Just the thought of Lydia’s ass made my dick hard. She only had one beer all night since she was driving, but she played pool with some of the deckhands and their girls. I tried not to watch because every time she bent over, my brain shorted out. Dougie was home for the weekend and we chatted it up before he headed for home to The Wife and I switched from beer to water. I really didn’t want any more liquid in me but it would help tame my buzz. I hadn’t had a drink in a long while.

After the crowd started to thin, we headed for home. I climbed back into the SUV, as I did before, and buckled in. Lydia stowed my trap and wheelchair, then took her place behind the wheel.

She started it up and turned to me smiling before pulling out of the spot. “Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“I had a great time and I couldn’t have had better company. Thank you, Lydia. You don’t know how much you mean to me.” She blushed and turned away before shifting the car into gear. When her arm returned to the console, I took her hand in mine, interlaced our fingers, and gave her hand a squeeze. She allowed me to hold her hand during the drive home.

My face felt itchy, like a dog with fleas. The weather was changing and my skin felt dry. I wish I knew what would stop this itch. I was willing to try anything. Calamine, hydrocortisone, butter, I would try anything and smear it on my face if this itch would just stop. Regular hand lotion just didn’t do the job and then my face ended up smelling like baby’s ass or a scented fruity concoction.

It was still early and I couldn’t wait for Lydia to get here so I could be put out of my itchy misery. I was starting to look a little like a caveman with a full beard growing in. It was at that stage where you had to shave or do some man grooming. Why was it when I had an itch, it wanted to run all over the place? It started with my beard and just when I thought the itch was sated, another place lower would get itchy.

With both hands, I scratched at my face in an effort to relieve it, and then it ran down the side and to the back of my neck. I grabbed a hairbrush from the console in the couch and reached around to scratch my neck. Then it was racing down my back. I was so itchy. I pulled my shirt off and started scratching my back with the boar’s hair bristle brush trying to bring myself some relief. Mmmmm, oooooh yeah, stay still dammit, oooooh. As I scratched myself stupid, Lydia walked in the front door.

“Ryan, I’m here I stopped off at Waco for…what the hell?” Lydia stared at me with her iced coffee in one hand and her big zebra purse in the other. I guessed I was a sight to see scrubbing my back with a hairbrush.

“Hey Lyds. Come here. Let me see your hands.” She still had a confused look on her face but put down her stuff and headed toward me with her hands outstretched in front of her.

“What’s going on Ryan?” I looked at her hands; she had short fingernails but just enough length to get a scratch on.

“Can you please scratch my back? The damn itch is running!” I leaned forward as she stepped around behind me with curled fingers.

“Where are you itchy?”

“Everywhere. Just scratch.” She started scratching gently, so gentle it was almost a tickle.

“Harder, Lyds, please.” She pressed harder and now she was getting into it, scratching with long strokes up and down my back. I couldn’t help but moan because it felt so good.

“Is that better?” she asked.

“Yes, but please don’t stop.” Her nails felt so good on my back that my dick began to stiffen.

Those nails could bite my back as I laid her down and spread her wide. She’d urge me forward as she marked my ass cheeks as I thrust…

“All better?”

Dammit. I didn’t want her to stop, but I already had a hard on and it was only 9:00 am.

“Thanks Lyds. That was heaven.” As I sat back up in my chair and tried and tuck my stiff cock under my belt buckle, the itchiness returned to my face.

“Argh!” I scrubbed at my face with the brush trying once more to bring relief.

“Why don’t you just shave, Captain Caveman?” she said laughing at my distress.

“I would if I could.”

“Well, why can’t you?”

“I can’t get everywhere and the angle is just awkward in the mirror so I gave up instead of looking like a 5-year-old shaved me in my sleep.”

She paused for a moment before giggling, slowly repeating my statement, “A 5-year-old…shaving you…in your sleep.” She took her head, still giggling, “I can shave you. We wouldn’t want you looking like a failed kindergarten project,” she offered.

“I don’t need my legs shaved. I want to come out in one piece.”

Her nose crinkled up, and she poked me in my bare chest.
Ouch
! “Listen here, Mr. Gannon, you are not my first patient and not the first man I have shaved. Keep talking like that and you will need more than little toilet paper squares to fix you up.”

I put my hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, Nurse Ratchet. You can go now. I would like Nurse Lydia back on duty please.”

She smiled and stood behind me and started scratching my beard while resting her chin on top of my head.
This was heaven. I had tits on my neck, Lydia smelled so delicious like Key Lime Coconut Pie, and she was rubbing my face
. I moaned and pressed my face into her hands.

“Does that feel good?” she asked, snuggling against my neck as she whispered in my ear.

“Uh-huh. You can just stay like that and forget the shave.” I groaned.

“Then what are you going to do at 6:00 when I go home?” she asked coyly, still rubbing my face.

“I guess you can stay there until 4:00 and then shave me before you leave or you don’t have to leave.”

She stopped rubbing, and I groaned at the loss. “Well, I can’t stand here all day and rub your face. Somebody has to make this pork loin if we want to eat tonight. I will go grab your shaving stuff. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Where am I going? I will just sit here and wait.” I shook my head at her as she went into the master bathroom to grab my razor and shaving cream.

She came back out the bathroom with my shaving stuff and a couple hand towels and set them on my lap

“Smart ass,” she quipped and headed into the kitchen. I heard the water running, and she returned with a big bowl full of water and placed it on the dining room table. “All right, Captain Caveman, roll on over here and let’s make you human again. It’s better if we do this over here. It will be easier to clean the hardwood instead of the carpet.”