Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Wounded Warrior And The Colleen

   A Love Story by Gil Gamesh   Chapter Three

   Saturday

   Saturday morning.  I was awakened by Michael gently shaking my shoulder.

   "Wake up, Ryan," he said.  "It's after eight o'clock.  Colleen's making
breakfast for you.  We've already eaten.  I'm working at the shop with
Grandpa today and he's coming by to pick me up in a few minutes."

   I threw the sheet off and sat up on the side of the bed.  I saw
Michael's eyes look down at my morning piss-hard.  He grunted.  I grunted
too because I was glad to see my best friend in that condition again.  It
felt full to bursting and I really needed to pee.  I held out my hand to
him.  He understood, grasped it, and helped me stand.  My left leg seemed
better and, when I tried to move it, it moved but not good enough to trust
it.

   "Would you help me to the bathroom?" I asked.

   "Ryan, you'll never point that damned thing down," he said.  "Maybe
you'd better get in the shower and piss up against the wall."

   Maybe he was joking but that's what I did.  I turned the shower on and
stood out of the way until the water ran warm, trying to hold back on
pissing.  Then I stuck my head under the spray, put both hands on the wall,
and pissed and, damn, it was a great feeling.  When I finished, I looked to
the side.  Michael was standing there watching me and grinning.

   Back in the bedroom, he handed me some black exercise shorts and a
t-shirt.  I sat down on the side of the bed, stuck my feet in the shorts,
and stood to pull them up.  I felt wobbly so I quickly sat back down to put
on the shirt.  He held out some white socks and, when I hesitated, he knelt
and put them on my feet.

   "This is some of my stuff but maybe you can wear them until next week,"
he said.  "Colleen's looking forward to shopping with you.  Don't argue
with her.  Just let her pick out the clothes.  She picks out nice stuff for
me to wear when there are visitors here."

   I nodded, "OK."

   I used the walker to go downstairs to the kitchen.  Colleen was standing
at the stove dressed about the same way I was.  I could tell she didn't
have on a bra under her t-shirt.  Michael hugged her, smiled at me, and
left, probably to be out front when Grandpa came by.

   "Good morning, Ryan," she said.  "Did you sleep well?"

   "Yeah, I died."

   "Well, sit down at the table and eat.  I'm making you an omelet with
sausage and cheese.  It has four eggs and I want you to eat every bit of
it. After that, you can have some buttered toast and jelly.  What kind do
you like?"

   "Any thing's OK.  Orange marmalade?

   "OK.  Coffee?  Michael gets half coffee and half milk.  What do you
want?

   "That's OK with me but could I have an extra glass of milk?"

   I sat there and ate my omelet, four slices of toast with jelly, one
glass of milk, two cups of half and half, and I finally felt full.  Colleen
cleaned the kitchen and then stood with her back to the sink watching me. I
turned a little to face her.

   "Thank you," I said.

   "You're welcome," she answered.  "I like to cook."

   "I wasn't talking about breakfast.  It was great and I do thank you for
it but I was talking about last night, the way I felt when you held me."

   "How?  What do you mean?"

   "Colleen, you holding me wasn't about sex.  I'm not sure what it was but
it wasn't sex.  I just wish you could know how I felt, lying there in the
dark, cuddling with you, you stroking my hair and rubbing my back.  I
wanted to stay there forever.  Then when you said I could put my mouth on
your breasts, I felt like crying when you let me do that.  It made me feel
good to be alive, to know I might crawl out of my dark hole."

   She walked over to me and put her hands on my shoulders.  I looked up at
her and she nodded.  I turned my head to the side and pressed the side of
my face against her soft breasts.  She gently stroked my hair.

   "Did you really do what Grandpa said," she whispered.  "I mean, about
trying to overdose on pain pills?'

   "Yes, but that wasn't the first time.  I didn't tell the Senator about
the first time.  I didn't tell anybody about that."

   "Tell me."

   "OK, but don't tell anyone else."

   "I won't'."

   "At the hospital in Washington, I developed an infection in my
intestines from the bullet wound.  Scuttlebutt says the Taliban dip their
bullets in shit to cause that.  For weeks I had tubes down my nose feeding
me, IVs in both arms, and a catheter in my dick.  I wanted to die and I was
so deep in a black hole I couldn't see any daylight.  They finally removed
all my tubes and IVs and I decided to end it.  I stole a scalpel, went in
the shower, and started to cut my wrists.  I stood there probably a half
hour trying to get up the nerve but I couldn't.  I was too damned afraid of
the void that awaited me."

   She stepped back, lifted her shirt, and displayed her beautiful breasts
to me again.  Then she pulled my head against her so that my mouth was on
one breast.  I opened my lips and sucked gently on the nipple.  She moved
my head to the other breast and I licked the hard little red-brown berry
and then gently sucked on it.  She moaned contentedly.  When she pulled
away from me, I looked up and saw her eyes were wet with tears.  Our eyes
locked together, hers looked misty but they also looked loving and caring.
I managed a weak smile.

   "That was nice, Ryan," she said.  "I liked it but I've got to get busy
with Dad's speech.  I promised I'd e-mail it to him by ten.'

   "OK.  If you'll go get my computer, I'll help you.  And please accept my
thanks for what you just did."

   "We've got a desktop and a laptop both in the office.  Can't you use one
of those?"

   "Probably, but I'm used to typing on mine.  I'll type the speech for you
if you'll go get mine."

   She nodded and I sat at the kitchen table until she came back carrying
my little suitcase.  She led me through the huge family room to the office
on the other side of the house.  I stood there holding onto the walker for
a moment and then sat down in the chair in front of the desktop and cleared
a space.  She put my suitcase on the floor and I set up my little computer.
I pressed my right thumb on the screen and then said the password:
"Alexander."

   "Now, how far have you got with the speech?" I asked.  "Have you got
anything in writing?"

   "I've started an outline and filled it in just a little," she said. 
"It's a generic speech but the Senator will never use the same speech
twice. He wants something new each time and I've about run out of new."

   She handed me a sheet of paper with typing and hand-written additions,
printed, not cursive, on it.  I asked her questions about the occasion of
the speech, the length, the audience, and the response the Senator wanted
to engender in the audience.  Then I sat there for a minute or so and
organized the speech in my head.  I looked up at her, thought about what I
had composed, and then turned to my computer, closed my eyes, and started
typing.  When I stopped, she leaned over so her head was beside mine and
her breasts touched my back.

   "Ryan, that's wonderful," she said.  "Dad was right when he said you had
potential.  He probably meant you had potential to be a speech writer for
him but I don't understand the intro joke about the two wounded warriors
who walk into a bar.

   I explained it and she laughed.

   "It's meant to be a little ambiguous and more than a little naughty," I
said.  "Veterans will get it.  Little children won't."

   "How do you do it?  You typed it with your eyes closed and I don't see
any grammatical or spelling mistakes."

   "I told you and Michael.  I don't know where it comes from but I have an
extraordinary ability to write and to use the English language.  I love
writing.  Someday I'm going to write books, maybe about the futility of
war."

   "Could you have said the speech and just let Alexander type it for you?"
she asked.

   "Yes, but I sort of store the speech in one part of my mind and then
review it as I type it and, at the same time, I make changes to improve it.
It's just the way my mind and my hands work, Colleen."

   "Well, we need to time it now.  Would you to read it aloud like you
would if you were speaking to an audience?  We want no more than ten
minutes or so."

   She took my right wrist, the one with the Sky Dweller on it, and,
holding my hand, watched the time as I read the speech from the monitor. 
When I looked up at her, she nodded.

   "Perfect.  About nine minutes.  Let me send it."

   "No, don't send it yet," I said.  "I want to let it sit while we do
something else for a while and then I want to go over it again."

   "OK.  Let's go swimming."

   "Naked?"

   "Yes, Ryan, I told you we swim naked.  Our pool is enclosed so nobody
can see in.  We can swim naked anytime of the day or night.  You might as
well get used to it."

   "I don't know if I can."

   She squatted down, took off my socks, stood me up, pulled my t-shirt
over my head, and pushed my exercise shorts down my legs.  I stepped out of
them and I was naked before her.  She lifted her arms and I stripped her
shirt off, pushed her shorts down and she was naked except for white socks.
She held my hand for balance and took off her own socks and she was naked
before me.  I shook my head in wonder.  She was by far the most beautiful
woman I'd ever seen, well, anyway, I'd ever seen naked.  If she had let me
stand and look for a minute, I think my buddy would have stood up and had a
good look too.

   Instead, we went back to the family room and out the French doors, naked
as the day we were born, holding hands and smiling.  I was surprised at the
size of the pool just outside the door.  It was long enough to make
swimming laps possible and was entirely covered with screening.  There was
a head-high sight barrier made of vertical plastic strips all around the
perimeter.  Scattered around the pool there were chairs and loungers.  It
looked damned luxurious to me but I suppose it was probably just a pool to
a wealthy family.

   I stood there in wonder, admiring her beauty, not so much sexy, just
beauty of the purest sort, while she tucked her long hair in a swimming
cap. She grinned at me while I watched.  She probably knew why I watched
her every move.  Perhaps she was used to it.

   I wasn't sure I could swim laps with one leg not working right.  I eased
into the cool water at the end where there was a pipe to grab onto, ducked
under, and came up shivering.  Colleen waded in behind me, immersed herself
up to her neck, and stood back up, shivering too.  Of course, my eyes
shifted to her taut breasts with nipples about a half-inch long.  I wanted
them in my mouth again.

   She smiled at me and then began swimming slowly toward the other end of
the pool.  I followed her, caught up to her, and then realized that I was
swimming with two legs.  We swam laps and I glanced at the Sky Dweller at
the end of each.  At fifteen minutes to ten, I called time and we went back
in and then to the office, still naked, holding hands, and smiling.

   I read the speech silently and carefully, thinking how each part would
sound, and decided that the last paragraph needed revision.  I positioned
the cursor ahead of the last paragraph and instructed Alexander,
"Alexander, please insert new last paragraph."

   I dictated the new ending and Alexander pasted it in above the old.  I
sat back and looked at the speech.  I was satisfied.  It was better.

   Colleen was reading over my shoulder again except that this time her
naked breasts were against my back.

   "Does the revision make it better?" I asked.

   "I think so.  It was good before but now it's better."

   "Alexander, please cut old last paragraph.  Save speech."

   The old last paragraph disappeared.  "Speech saved, Ryan," Alexander
said.

   "Colleen, if you don't stop rubbing your tits on my back, I'm going to
get a hard-on," I said.

   She slapped me gently behind the head.  "Is that all you guys ever think
about?"

   "Yeah, it is.  I'm ready to send it.  What's your Wi-Fi password?  If
you don't want to give it to me, I'll put the speech on a flash drive and
you can send it from one of your computers."

   "I don't remember the password, Ryan," she said.  "My computer has
thumb-print recognition too."

   I decided to show off.

   "That's OK."

   Using my computer, I did a quick search for modems or routers or
modem/routers, found the one that had to be theirs, and then started
Breaker.  I turned and waited for a minute or so for the program to do its
job.  Damn, she was beautiful and naked and I felt a little response in my
friend.  A minute or so later, Breaker dinged and I turned around and
looked at the password.  KissMyIrish!  I entered it, she gave me the
Senator's private e-mail address, and I sent the speech to her father.

   She was still bent over watching what I was doing.  I grabbed her behind
the head, pulled her face down, and kissed an Irish colleen.  She didn't
resist.

   "OK, what do you want to do now?" she asked.

   I leered at wickedly.

   "Not that.  I mean...damn it, Ryan, I don't know what I mean."

   "I was just teasing, Colleen." I said.  "My leg surprised me when I
swam. Maybe we could go for a walk around outside.  Your house looks
beautifully landscaped."

   "I know," she said.  "Let's walk back to the creek.  Back behind the
pool, there's a heavily-wooded area and our property runs all the way back
to a small creek.  It's really wild and beautiful."

   "Can we go like this?"

   "No, we'd better put on some clothes," she said, smiling.  "'Let's go
upstairs and get dressed."

   I used the walker to go upstairs even though I wasn't sure I needed it.
She followed me into my bedroom, went in the walk-in closet, and got
clothes for me, underwear, socks, sneakers, shorts, and shirt.  I stood
there helplessly and she dressed me and even bent over and put my sneakers
on my feet.  She also stuffed her hand down in my underwear and arranged my
buddy and his cohorts into a neat package.

   "I can dress myself, Colleen," I said.

   "Shut up, Ryan," she said.  "I'm having fun babying you."

   Dressed and using just my cane, I followed a naked colleen out and down
the hall to her bedroom, unmade bed but otherwise neat and clean and even
smelling good.  She pulled stuff out of a chest, handed it to me, went in
the closet, got more stuff, and then stood smiling at me.  Damn, I'd
undressed a few women but I'd never done the reverse.  Of course, I checked
out the red-crowned Y between her legs when she held onto my shoulders and
I held her panties for her to step into them.  When I finished dressing
her, no bra, I stood looking at her for a moment and then it dawned on me I
had knelt with both knees on the carpet and then stood back up.

   "I just knelt with my bad leg, Coleen.  I think it's working better
now," I said

   "Which one, the middle one?" she answered with a straight face.

   We wandered the woods, holding hands and talking, me using only my cane.
From the way she led me and showed me various things, I assumed she was
used to playing in the woods.  Occasionally, when walking was difficult, I
put my arm behind her back, my hand on her shoulder for balance and she put
her arm around my waist.  I stumbled a few times and I was surprised at her
strength when she caught me.

   We went back to the house at noon and went in the kitchen.  I sat while
Colleen rummaged in the refrigerator for leftovers.  I got a huge serving
of lasagna with a beer and a big slice of Boston crème pie.  Colleen got a
small serving of lasagna and a diet soft drink, that's all.  I finally
pushed back from the table, stuffed and satisfied, at least with food.

   "Colleen, I'm used to resting or napping after lunch," I said.  "I'm not
used to swimming and walking so much and, if you want me to go to your
grandparent's house for dinner, I think I'd better crawl in the bed for an
hour or so."

   "I'll bet we're having fried chicken with home-made biscuits," she said.
"Do you want to go?"

   I didn't bother to answer.  I just smiled at her and nodded.

   We went upstairs to the bedrooms and into the one where I'd slept.  The
king-size bed was unmade, at least on my side.  I was ready to crawl back
in for a while.

   "What are you going to do?" I asked.

   "I'm going to bed with you," she said.  "If you can be good, I'll let
you hold me."

   "I'll try to be good but it may be hard," I said.

   She looked at me and grinned.  "Ryan, just relax.  When I say hold me,
that's all I mean.  Maybe I'm doing something for you but I'm also doing it
for me.  I like the idea of you holding me, just being quiet, maybe
sleeping, maybe not.  Isn't that enough?"

   I was serious.  "Yes, it's more than enough."

   She crawled in first and turned her butt, I mean, her back, to me.  What
was a man going to do?  I crawled in behind her and she surprised me.  She
moved back until her butt was nestled in my groin, my right leg was over
her left, and my face was in her sweet-smelling hair.  I let my hand rest
on her shoulder and she surprised me again.  She caught my hand in hers,
moved it down to her breast, and I cupped it around her softness.

   "Now, be good," she whispered.

   I lay there for a while, eyes closed, but my mind wasn't interested in
sleep even though my body was tired.  I wanted to talk to her.

   "Colleen, I don't think I'm going to sleep," I whispered.  "Can we talk
a little?"

   "Sure," she said.  "You talk.  Start with your childhood.  How was it?"

   "Good, very good, at least in my early years.  We lived in a small town
with a little library close to home.  My sister was four years older than
me and she'd take me with her and read to me.  By the time I was five, I
was reading easily.  When I started first grade at six, I could write in
complete sentences and usually be grammatically correct.  They thought I
was some sort of genius.  I think I was close to an idiot savant.  I didn't
want to do what the teachers said.  I wanted to do what I wanted to do. 
Reading and writing were about the only talents I had."

   "Well, you seem to have developed that talent nicely," she whispered.

   "I suppose so.  We were a reasonably happy family until my sister
discovered boys and decided she wanted to get married and pop out a rug rat
every few years.  She got married without any difficulty but she had no
luck with babies and eventually was told she probably never would have
children."

   "That would be a hard blow for a woman, Ryan," she whispered.  "We all
want to have children."

   "Then my father was mugged and killed in New Orleans and all they got
was a few dollars and a cheap watch.  Next my mother was diagnosed with
cancer and was dead within a few months.  Last, my sister left her husband
and disappeared and nobody knows where she is.  I was in college, a
sophomore, wondering why I was there.  Then I saw the Army recruiting
station and you know the rest."

   "Have you broken lots of girl's hearts, Ryan?" she asked.  "Whether you
know it or not, you're really one sexy guy."

   "No, Colleen, I haven't.  Maybe just one or two.  In high school, I got
between the legs of two girls.  The first time, it wasn't very good and she
wouldn't date me anymore.  The second was better but she belonged to a
fundamentalist church and wanted me to join.  I escaped just in time.  In
college, I met Joy and we had a brief affair before I fucked up.  All the
other stuff was happening and I had no real desire to be in college.  At
least I was man enough to face her and tell her I was dropping out."

   She was quiet.  After a minute or so, I continued.

   "Colleen, the next time, if there is one, I want to do it right.  I
shouldn't ask this but do you think you might..."

   She interrupted me.  "Yes, Ryan," she whispered.

   "Thank you, all I was asking was if there was a chance," I said.  "I
don't know what a woman wants or needs from a man and I've got nothing to
offer.  All my worldly goods were in those two suitcases, well, not all, if
you count my bank balance.  I've got a few thousand there.  And you've got
everything, a famous senator father, a wealthy family, a nice home, a
little red sports car."

   "Shut up, Ryan," she said.  "The most important thing a man can offer a
woman is something you can give me.  And I'm not talking about that thing
between your legs."

   "What?"

   "Yourself, Ryan, that's what."

   I couldn't believe what I had heard.  "You'd...damn, are you sure?"

   "No, dummy, I'm not sure.  Who knows what might happen?  Now shut up and
just think about what I've said."

   She moved my hand down and into her knit shirt and then back up.

   "Colleen!"

   "Just hold me, Ryan, that's all I want from you right now."

   I lay there with my face almost in her hair, smelling the fragrance of
something, my hand holding her naked breast, her warm butt, even with
shorts on, pressed back against me, and I thought about her.

   Did she really mean it?  Maybe she was just saying that to give me hope,
to help me crawl out my black hole.  Would the Senator accept me as a
son-in-law?  I thought back to some of the things he had said to me,
particularly when we were talking about Colleen.  He had cautioned me about
her temperament and about the danger of falling in love with her.  I
believed that we don't helplessly fall in love.  We grow in love with time
and patience and kindness and caring.  Maybe the Senator meant I had the
potential to be like that and to be his son-in-law too.  I didn't know her
well enough but I liked the possibility of us joining together to go
through life.

   I slept for at least a while, just holding her, being comforted by the
way she let me hold her breast, as though she liked me touching her.  When
I awakened, needing to pee again, I turned loose of her breast and looked
at the Rolex.  The time was just after three.  My movement awakened Colleen
or perhaps she was already awake.  Did she even sleep?

   "Let's go to the shop, Ryan," she said.  "Michael and I both spend part
of each day there, helping out.  You can sit and watch what we do and then,
later, you can help too.  Customers may not come in for a while and then
suddenly there's ten of then wanting help."

   "I've got to go pee," I whispered.

   "I know.  I can feel it.  I need to go too."

   We went to the bathroom together and I stood there smiling and shaking
my head while she sat and peed.  I wasn't used to such intimacy but I liked
it.  When it was my turn, I put on a good show for her.  I dragged my
swollen dick out, pulled the foreskin back, looked at her, looked down, and
drilled the commode dead center.  I squeezed out the last drops, shook it a
little longer than necessary, covered the head, and stuffed it back in my
shorts.  I looked at her and she was grinning too.

   "Would you like to drive my car, Ryan?" she asked.  "You can drive it
with just your right leg.  Just don't try to use that middle one."

   Colleen's little car was an automatic, not a stick shift, and I drove it
easily not using my left leg.  I'd never had a car of my own, not even in
college, and it felt good to be in her car with her sitting beside me,
smiling, talking to me.

   Michael was behind the counter at the shop, helping a customer get a
watch bracelet.  Another customer was waiting.  Colleen immediately started
helping and, of course, the guy, a middle-aged man, was happy to have help
from such a beautiful girl.  I sat down in a chair, propped my cane between
my legs, and watched the two helpers.

   Grandpa came out of the back carrying a watch for the first customer. 
He had put in a new battery for her.  He didn't charge her and I wondered
why.  When both customers left, I asked.  He told me she had bought the
watch from his shop and had paid an extra $10 for batteries for life.

   When we left the shop, I swapped cars: me with Grandpa, Colleen with
Michael.  Grandpa drove home with me sitting in the front-side passenger
seat of his big Buick again.  Michael begged Colleen to let him drive her
car and she had to be with him as long as he had just a learner's permit.

   At the grandparent's home, we went in through the front door again and
straight to the kitchen.  Grandma was at the stove wearing a big red apron
and frying chicken in a black cast-iron frying pan.

   She said dinner wasn't quite ready and told Grandpa to show me his
back-yard garden.  He picked up a basket as we went out the kitchen door,
handed it to me, and we wandered through a beautifully cared-for garden. 
We checked the tomato plants first and he picked a few and pointed to
others for me to pick.  We looked at the squash plants for signs of worms,
he said, there were none, and he picked a few yellow and zucchini squash.
The pole beans on the teepees were taller than me and full of green beans.
He said he'd pick then early the next morning.  Even the cucumbers were
trained to climb.  Grandpa took the basket and pointed out the ones he
wanted me to pick.

   Dinner was fried chicken, home-made biscuits, mashed potatoes with
gravy, green beans cooked with a ham hock, a squash casserole with cheese,
and a salad of vine-ripened tomatoes, home-grow cucumbers, and onions, and,
of course, big glasses of sweet tea.  I thought maybe I'd died and gone to
heaven.  Michael warned me to leave a little room for dessert.  I had a big
bowl of warm peach cobbler with some vanilla ice cream on top.  I could
have dropped dead after that and I would have died happy.

   I sat at the table with Grandma and Grandpa while Colleen and Michael
cleaned up and then we all sat there and talked and laughed.  Then, a
little after eight o'clock, I thought a wrong thought, other bad ones
crowded in, and I felt the dark trying to creep over me again.  What was I
going to do?  I couldn't let them know.  As nice as they were to me, I
couldn't spoil the evening.

   I looked at Colleen and yawned and maybe she got the message.

   "I think it's time for me to take Ryan home," she said, smiling.  "He's
had a long day and I think we've worn him out."

   I forced myself to appear happy and to thank Grandma and Grandpa.  I
hugged Grandma and even kissed her on the cheek and thanked her for the
best meal I'd had in years.  I shook Grandpa's hand and told him he'd
married the best cook in the world.

   At their house, Colleen parked her little car in the circular driveway
and got out.  I opened the door beside me and stood up without difficulty.
I pulled the seat forward for Michael and he managed to unfold and crawl
out.  Colleen was already standing at the open front door waiting for us.

   Inside, she hurried to the small bathroom just off the family room,
dropped her shorts and panties, and sat down on the commode.  She didn't
bother to close the door so Michael and I watched.  She sighed in what was
evidently relief, patted dry with TP, stood up, and said, "Next."

   Michael deferred to me so I assumed the male position, fished my dick
out of my shorts, and pissed in relief.  Sweet iced tea for dinner was good
but it's enough to make anybody need to go.  I didn't flush either, I said,
"Next," and Michael assumed the position.  Colleen and I watched his
performance.  He showed off.  When his fire hose ran dry, he slid his
foreskin back and forth a few times, shook the last drops off the nozzle,
and looked at us, grinning.  He flushed.

   When we went in the kitchen, Colleen immediately started undressing.  A
second later, Michael followed her example.  I wasn't sure I wanted to show
her mine again tonight.  Maybe I did but I didn't want to do things her
way. I wanted to do things my way.  I just stood there.  When they were
stark-assed naked, they both stripped me.

   "Colleen, I'm not..."

   I started and she interrupted me with her fingers over my mouth.

   "Hush, Ryan," she said.  "I've got something else in mind."

   TO BE CONTINUED:



   1