Forever: A Lobster Kind Of Love (20 page)

“Good thinking.” I handed her the towels, my razor and shaving cream, and gave her my best puppy dog eyes. “Be gentle.”

She busted out laughing and tucked one of the hand towels over the back of my chair. I already had my shirt off so didn’t have to worry about getting that dirty.
I will just take a shower when she is done
.

Lydia squirted a golf ball-size dollop of the gel into her wet hand. I watched as foam slowly began foaming as she moved her hands in circular motions. She spread the lather over both her palms and asked, “You ready, Mr. Gannon?”

“Bring it on, Nurse Lydia.”

She stood off to my right side and lathered up one side of my face before going around to the do the other.

I tilted my head back, allowing her access to my back as she massaged the foam into my scruff. She gently rubbed some of the foam under my nose, careful not to get any up my nostrils. She wiped the remaining foam onto the other hand towel and grabbed the razor off the table.

“Okay, here goes.”

I tilted my head to the side, and she took the first swipe. As the hair was removed from my face, I felt the cool room air hit my cheek; it sent a chill down my neck. Lydia rinsed the razor in the bowl of warm water and went back for a few more passes before rinsing the razor again.

“Oh look, there is a guy under there. I thought I was wolf sitting.”

“Hardy har har, funny pants,” I teased back.

“Don’t mess with the woman with the razor. I can just leave you like this, once side shaved, one not.”

I pleaded with her, “Come on Lyds, don’t be mean. Please, shave me. I'll be good.”

She smirked and went back to work. As she got to my neck, she seemed to be having a tough time with the angle.

“Just sit on my lap.” I patted my legs and held out my hand.

She looked at me in disbelief.

“You need to be up close if you are ever going to get under my neck. It’s fine, have a seat.” I scooted my chair closer to the table so she would be able to reach the bowl for rinsing and held my hand out to her.

She sat on my lap like she was getting ready to tell Santa what she wanted for Christmas.

“Um Lyds, how the heck are you supposed to shave me with your back to me? Twirl around and straddle me. That’s probably the only way you are going to get close enough.”

“What was I thinking?” She got up and carefully sat on my lap, spreading her legs wide and straddling me. Her legs hung on either side of the wheel chair. I had taken the arms of my chair a long time ago because it was easier to get in and out, not have to fuss with them.

“That’s better.” I leaned my head all the way back and gave her full access to my neck. She took her time, especially around my Adam’s apple and as she shifted in my lap, I could feel her warm core against my cock. She shifted again, getting the apex of my chin and ear; her lime coconut scented skin assaulted my senses and my cock sprang to life. The only benefit of being strapped in this chair right now is my cock was restrained under my seatbelt but her warmth rubbed against the base of my shaft, driving my cock into my stomach.

I opened my eyes and looked at Lydia as she shaved me and found her biting her lip, humming to herself. She shifted again, and it was sweet agony as my cock raged against my seatbelt. She took another look at the other side and as she did, her tits were right in my face. They were right there, staring at me. I could see her black tank top under her scrub shirt and the crest of her cleavage poking out.

“I think you’re done,” she said and started to get up from my lap.

I palmed my face, “I feel like a new man. Thanks Lyds.”

“You’re welcome, Ryan. Let me clean this up.”

She tried to get up, but I grabbed her around her waist, wrapped my arms around her, and hugged her tight, pressing my face into her tits. I rubbed my face into her chest and the remnant shaving cream smeared across her lavender scrub shirt.

“What are you doing?” Lydia squealed as she wiggled in my grasp.

Oh crap, you crossed the line that time, dumbass
. I thought as I quickly released my hug and she climbed off me. She looked down and pulled her shirt away from her body. “Ryan, you got shaving cream all over me!”

Bingo! Ryan-1 Scrubs-0

“Sorry, I just wanted to give you a hug. I feel like a new man.” I rubbed my cheeks again, and it felt so good to be rid of the itchy scruff. I couldn’t help but smile as she tried to wipe off the shaving cream I’d effectively ground into her top.

“Just take it off. Don’t you have a shirt on underneath, anyway?” I asked her.

“Yes, of course, I have a tank top on. I guess it’s okay, it’s a warm enough in here.”

Yes, yes, yes, take it off.

She grabbed the hem of her scrub top and pulled it up and over her head, careful to not get the shaving cream in her hair. She placed the shirt on the table by the bowl of cooling water. She was tiny under those baggy scrubs, and she had the most beautiful perky tits. And tattoos? How did she keep those hidden? I thought I had seen some ink on her in the Pirate festival pictures, but I thought it was airbrushed or stick-ons.

“I had no idea you had tattoos, Lydia.” I said questioningly.

She blushed and turned away.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed. They are beautiful.”

“I don’t usually show them. It’s not like I go around half naked all the time.”

I laughed because she is nowhere close to the kind of naked I wanted her to be. “You are far from naked and you have nothing to be ashamed of or hide. Those colors are beautiful. There has to be stories. Why don’t you come back over here and sit on my lap and tell me a story.”

“Shut up, Ryan. You’re crazy,” and she threw her hand towel at me.

“You were just sitting on my lap! What? You can shave me but can’t tell me the story behind all that ink?”

She shrugged and I can see the squirrel working hard as it turned the wheels in her head. “Well, I guess I can see if I missed any spots while I tell you.”

I patted my legs, and she climbed on my lap. Here was my early Christmas present. I was just waiting for the green flag to unwrap it. She might have been staring at my chin, but I was staring at her tattoo of doves floating on her clavicles above her cleavage. I wrapped my right arm around her waist and scooted her closer to me on my right thigh so I could get a better look. I brushed her hair off her shoulder and traced the blue outline of one dove with my finger.

“Tell me about these.” I asked as I continued to outline the small bird.

She let out a long breath. “One is for my husband and the other for my son; they passed away.”

“I’m sorry, Lydia. I didn’t know you were married. I had no idea. I never saw any rings.”

“It’s okay. I took them off. A drunk truck driver took my boys from me.”

“I’m so sorry, Lydia.” I could tell she was nervous because where she was once relaxed she was now stiff in my lap and fidgeting with her hands. I ran my fingers through her purple tendrils of hair and lifted her hair off her neck, revealing shamrocks on the base of her neck.

I spoke softly to try to help calm her, “And these?” I brushed my hand across her neck and she leaned into me so I could see behind her ear. Her hair smelled like lime and coconut. Her hairs lightly tickled my nose as she rested her head on my shoulder.

“My family is Irish. Just a little piece of luck and my family watching my back.”

I continued to rub her neck, and she relaxed under my ministrations. Her warm breath on my neck sent chills down my spine and hot electricity to my loins. Lydia’s skin felt soft and her thin frame against mine felt so small.

As I kneaded her neck and shoulder, she began to squirm in my lap. She raised her head, and she kept her eyes closed while I moved to the other side of her neck granting me more access to her skin.

Gaining a better view, another tattoo, a bigger one, on her left arm.
Scissors and roses
?

She looks so relaxed and I almost thought I would startle her if I spoke, so I whispered in her ear. “Scissors?”

Her eyes opened slightly under hooded lids and she moaned as I continued to massage her neck. “I wasn’t always a nurse. I went to a technical high school and got my cosmetology license. I did hair for a while, but no one wanted to get their hair cut by an 18-year-old kid. So, I got stuck cutting every old lady in town’s hair.”

“What made you quit being a hair stylist? Apparently, you must have liked it well enough to ink it on your body.”

“Life happened. I wasn’t going anywhere and wasn’t making any real money. I needed to pay bills. So nursing was my second choice. I still cut my girlfriends’ hair and I liked trying new colors and styles, but I found my niche in nursing. I actually get to help people instead of just playing dress-up.”

“Well, I am the lucky one to have you and you can style mine anytime.”

She ran her fingers through my bangs, trying to tuck them behind my ear, but they were not that long, yet.

“I kind of let my hair run wild lately. I used to keep it really short and buzzed, but not being able to leave the house...”

“I like it just the way it is. You could probably use a trim in the back, but I like it long in the front.” Lydia kept playing with my hair and it took every ounce of restraint not to yank her hair back and bury my face in her chest. I wanted to lick each dove and make a few marks of my own.

Her phone vibrated in her scrub shirt on the table, startling us both. “Whoa, that thing is strong!” I laughed and winked at her.

She reached over to the table and took her phone out of her pocket. As the screen illuminated, I caught a glimpse of her lock screen. She had a selfie we’d taken at Halloween as her lock screen photo and whom I can only assume are her late husband and son as her wallpaper.

“Well it’s huge, but I love this thing. I don’t even know all the things it can do yet.” She clicked off her alarm and shoved her phone back in the pocket.

“Got a hot date?” I questioned, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

“Yup, Mr. Pork Loin and I are going to heat it up in the kitchen. Wanna watch?” she nudged me in the shoulder with hers.

“Nah, he is a little selfish pig; I will let you get to it. I will grab a shower and wash the rest of this shaving cream off.”

“Suit yourself. I'll be in the kitchen.”

And with that she hopped off my lap and went to prepare the pork loin for dinner and I went to take yet another cold shower to try to relieve some of the pressure in my balls.

Besides my occasional doctor’s appointments, where Access-a-ride picked me up, I have only left the house once since my discharge from rehab. Those appointments didn’t count because, let’s face it, I didn’t want to be there. I went directly to the clinic and back, do not pass go, do not collect $200.

Apparently, Lydia didn’t get out much either. When I asked her to go to the Rose Garden prior, she knew where it was, but was the first time she had been there socially.

This is my favorite time of year. The streets were quiet as the cold weather moved in, and the sidewalks were littered with the colors of the fallen leaves. Oh, how I wanted to jump in those piles of leaves, rake them up, and do it again, not that I could, of course. I hoped that Halloween wouldn’t be the first and only time I got out of the house.

I had to admit; I've been going a little stir crazy. Now with Halloween behind us, the holiday season was in full swing. Thanksgiving decorations were up with the advertisements for turkeys and cranberry sauce.

This was yet another thing I was not sure how to handle. If I was home from sea, I would go to my parents’ house, but I didn’t see that happening this year. They lived in a split-level ranch home about two hours away. Even if I got transportation to their house, there was no way I could make the steps in the front of and inside the house.

Unlike my house, their front entrance had 15 steps since they lived on a hill and their deck was elevated off the dining room.

I wondered if Lydia would be going home for the holidays. Thursdays and Fridays she would usually be here, but with holidays, I wasn't quite sure.

The sound of keys hitting the hardwood floors tore me out of my thoughts as Lydia dropped her keys coming inside.

“You okay?” I asked as I rolled myself toward her.

“Yup, I’m good. Just dropped my keys.” As she rounded the corner of the hall, I saw she carried a large load of grocery bags and what appeared to be another Crock-pot—this one with camo patterns on it.

“What the heck did you buy, woman? Did you leave anything for the neighbors?”

“It was on sale!” she shrieked.

“Sure it was. Not like you need an excuse to shop.” I chuckled.

“Hey you, I don’t want to hear you complaining. Or I could just take these four boxes of Mini Peanut Butter Oreos back to the store?” she said teasingly.

“Okay, okay, Lyds, I’m sorry. Now hand over the Oreos. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself carrying four boxes!”

She walked over and dumped the last bag on my lap.
I’m a happy boy. My favorite
! “So, what all else do you have there, Lyds?”

“Like I said, they were having a sale, so I figured I would stock up early on stuff for Thanksgiving before they sold out of all the good stuff.”