Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter Nine



   We remained in the yard, talking, enjoying the breeze as the sun eased
behind the trees, then we went inside.

   "Okay," she said.  "Bath time.  And by the way, yesterday?"

   "What about yesterday?" I asked.

   "When I got all emotional."

   "Oh.  I forgot about that."

   "'S my period.  Right on time.  So I'm out of it for a few days.  At
least to your tongue an' your fingers..."

   "Okay on the 'tongue', babe, but..."

   "But, nothing.  Not on my period." She looked at me determinedly.

   "You get to say.  I was just offering."

   She cuddled next to me.  "I really like THAT with you, baby," she
sighed. "But..." Her hand touched my cast.  She changed the subject.  "So
now you can hobble around."

   "Feels good," I said.  "I don't feel as helpless."

   "Good!" she said.  "And I don't feel as bad about takin' advantage of
you.  You ready for dinner?"

   "Whenever," I said.

   She left and returned with dinner from her mom's.  Good food.  And now,
with two arms, I could feed myself.  I've eaten many a meal alone in this
house.  It was wonderfully pleasant to have Ronni there with me.  We
laughed and talked as we ate, then she took our dishes to the kitchen and
started the dishwasher.

   "Let's do a sponge bath tonight, babe," she said.  "Tomorrow I'm gonna
get a big plastic bag, and a stool, an' maybe you can sit in the shower."

   That was an interesting thought.  I crutched my way to my bedroom and
lowered myself onto the bed atop a layer of towels carefully laid out by
Ronni.  I was able to offer considerably more assistance in my undressing
than before, but she still insisted, and when it came to getting my scrub
trousers off, I was at her mercy.

   That's a horrible thing.  She loosened the drawstring at the waist,
tugging the waistband down as far as she could, then rolled me from side to
side until she had me uncovered.  No underwear.  Ronni.  Smiling.  In close
proximity.  Yes, I got hard.

   She giggled.  "You know, it does that EVERY time now."

   "I know.  It knows you." I slid my hand down along her waist and hip.

   "I know it, too.  And I know something fun to do to it." Her head bobbed
down.  I moaned.

   As she started sponging me off, she said, "Something I want to talk
about, baby..." she sounded a little more serious than normal.

   "What's that, sweet one?" I asked.

   "You know, we've been having a lot of fun, playing with each other, you
know, your hands, your mouth... and I love doin' that with you." Her soft
brown eyes...

   "You're a delight, my dear.  I love doing it with you too, you know..."
I said.  I was truthful.  She was happy and enthusiastic and seemed to
enjoy the pleasures we'd shared with each other.

   "Baby, you know, I'm a virgin.  I mean, we have fun doing things, and I
don't want to stop any of that, but I want to stay a virgin until we're
married." She looked at me with a little bit of a worried look on her face.
"Does that make you mad?"

   "Of course not, sweetie," I said.  "I've enjoyed what we've done
together, too.  It's all very wonderful and magical with you.  But I can
understand how you feel about virginity.  And we can wait.  I mean, we
don't have to do anything.  That's not why I love you.  That's not why I
want you around.  Me, I'm happy to just have you in the house with me.  And
if I can hold hands and we can cuddle and we can kiss, even better."

   "Uh, baby," she said, "I didn't mean I wanted to stop that stuff.  Any
of it.  I mean between me and you, the hugging and kissing," she smiled
demurely, "and that OTHER stuff, that's just us being intimate with each
other.  I mean, I've NEVER done anything like that with anybody else.  Not
even really kissed another boy.  You'll be the only one I ever do any of
that stuff with." She sighed.  "I mean, I hope I'm, like, GOOD at it."

   "Baby," I said, "you're the BEST."

   "But I don't know what I'm doin'," she said.

   "But I know what you're doing.  You're driving me crazy.  I love what
you do.  How you do it.  THAT you do it.  Kiss me."

   She kissed me.  She did more than kiss me.  She hugged me and she buried
her face in my neck and whispered her love to me.  Then she sat up.  "I
need to get your bath finished you know.  You're being very distracting."

   "I'm not the one that started talking about sex!" I said.

   "Wasn't talking about sex.  Was talking about me being a virgin."

   "I'm glad you're virgin, baby.  But I'm even more glad that you're you.
And three weeks isn't too long to wait."

   "I've been waiting since I was TEN."

   "What?!?  What have you been waiting for since you were 10?"

   "To get in your bed.  To be your wife."

   "But when you were ten you didn't know what husbands and wives did."

   "All I knew was that I wanted to be your wife.  To make you smile, so we
can be happy together.  Whatever it took." She kissed me again.  "When I
got older and found out what husbands and wives really did in bed, I wanted
to do THAT with you.  I did!  And you know what?  That's one of the reasons
why I'm a virgin.  If you would've showed up one day with a new wife, I
don't know if I'd still be a virgin anymore.  But I kinda told myself that
as long as there was a chance that you an' me would be together, I was
gonna wait so I can be totally yours."

   "Baby, I'm glad you waited.  And you know what?  I guess I'm glad that
you waited till I had this accident to tell me.  I don't know how I
could've handled it, as much time as we spent on the road together, if I'd
known how you really felt about me.  This way, it's kinda like I can be all
honorable about it.  Both of us can be."

   She shoved me over on my back to sponge down the other side of me, then
rubbed me down briskly with a towel.  She started pulling the towels off
the bed, and putting them in a pile.  Then she crawled in the bed beside
me, insinuated herself against me.

   "Honorable!  That's us.  Yeah, I know.  There were so many times that I
looked at you and I thought about, maybe I should just go ahead and tell
'im.  But I just couldn't figure out how we would handle it.  And then the
day of your accident it just all came out.  I was so scared that I'd lost
my chance to tell you."

   "Angel," I said, "sometimes it just takes big event like the accident to
get people to sort things out.  I guess that's what happened with you and
me.  Doesn't look like either one of us could see a way to talk to one
another until you thought I was dead."

   She lay beside me in bed.  We were an odd couple.  I'm stripped
completely naked with the exception of the cast from right above my knee to
my foot, and she's fully clothed.  But you know what?  I'm a whole lot more
mobile than I used to be.  It didn't take much for me to roll over to face
her and now both my arms worked.  I held her against me and kissed her and
told her how much I loved her.

   I guess it almost sounds sappy, but Ronnie and I were cementing the way
that we felt about one another.  Yes.  Ronnie.  Plain Ronnie.  Now I
question how I ever imagined her to be plain.  Now I saw her as magical. 
She wasn't conventional in her beauty.  But I loved her and I saw that she
had beauty and it was special and wonderful and that she was in my arms,
right now, made it even more special and wonderful.

   Of course I had both my arms around her holding her against me.  Her
arms were still free.  At first she caressed my head, pulling my face
against her for kisses.  Then she freed up one hand and that hand magically
appeared between us, exploring and it didn't take her long to find what she
was looking for.

   She pulled her face back from mine and said, "I told you I didn't want
to stop this part."

   "But, baby," I said, "you won't let me do anything to you."

   "So what?  Does that mean I can't play with you.  Just because I won't
let you play with me?" Her eyes twinkled.

   "Doesn't seem fair."

   Giggle.  "What's that saying go?  'All's fair in love and war'?" She
smiled at me.  "So what is it?  Love?  Or war?" Her lips met mine, our
tongues mixing.  She pulled back.

   "Sure doesn't feel like any war that I'm aware of."

   "It's not like we're keeping score or somethin'.  I LIKE doing this. 
With my hand.  Or with my mouth.  You wanna stop me from doing something
that I like?"

   I stroked that shiny brown hair, brushing the strand away from her face.
"I don't wanna stop you from doing anything you think is fun.  I just don't
want you to think that you gotta do stuff just to please me."

   She was smiling and she pulled further away and then started to slide
downward in the bed.  Her face turned towards me, eyes twinkling, telling
me that she knew exactly what she was doing to me.  Her fingers on one hand
curved under my scrotum, lightly tickling, causing my dick to lurch.  The
fact that a mere touch from her fingers could make me jump like that always
caused her to giggle.

   Of course her giggle was followed almost immediately by a bob of her
head and an explosion of sensations through my body as her lips closed
around me, sucking.  "Oh God, baby, that feels soooo good."

   She released me, smiling.  "You know, I rather enjoy it myself," she
said.  "It's magical, I mean, I could feel you movin' and throbbing in my
mouth.  You know how cool it is that I can do that?"

   "I guess I do," I said.  "I feel the same way when I do things to you. I
mean, I get a lot of enjoyment out of every bit of it, you know, you taste
good, and it feels so good on my tongue and my lips, and I love the smell,
and I can feel you quivering when I do things.  But at the end of it, I
give YOU pleasure."

   "Damn period," she said.  "You just reminded me of how good you've made
me feel.  Now stop talking and relax." She giggled.  "At least most of you,
anyway!" Her next giggle ended when her lips closed over the shaft of my
dick.  Her tongue and lips and teeth worked on me enthusiastically.  She
had the delightful habit of turning her face towards me and smiling as she
worked me over.  It wasn't long before I could feel the pressure starting
to build and my hip started jerking spasmodically all by themselves, out of
my control.

   She kept one hand around the shaft of my dick to make sure that my
uncontrolled thrusts didn't push too deeply into her mouth.  That was her
only restriction to my abandon.  One hand around my dick, the fingers of
her other hand tickling and massaging my scrotum, the suction of her hot
mouth and the action of her tongue and teeth drawing me ever closer to the
edge.

   "Nnnnnngghhhh, baby, it's close!"

   "Mmmm-hmmm," she hummed, not breaking her motion.

   That's all it took.  I was over the edge.  Hard spasms shook me as jet
after jet squirted from me.  I think the first squirt caught her by
surprise.  She took care of it, though, and all the subsequent spasms, her
hand and mouth, working together, urging me ever higher.  Finally, my hips
fell back to the bed.  She gave me one more delicious suck before letting
my dick fall out of her mouth.

   She looked at me, smiling.  "Now, do you realize that I just USED you?"

   "Just remember, little brown-haired girl, I get to use you as soon as
your period is over."

   She slid up beside me and cuddled against me, kissing me on the lips
unashamedly.  "You can use me as many times as you want, Sir." Her hand
idly played with my chest hair.  "I'm glad you're not smooth chested," she
said.  "I like this." Her hand wandered down my belly and toyed with my
dick.  "'Course, I like this too."

   She got up out of the bed.  "Let's get your pajamas on," she said. 
"Then we can go in the living room and watch TV or something."

   "Okay," I said.  It wasn't much of a struggle for me to get myself to
the sitting position.  She pulled a pajama top over my torso and then knelt
in front of me to pull the pajama pants on.  I still had to wear the ones
with the snaps up the legs, to accommodate my cast.  That made them pretty
easy for her to put on me.  That it was easy for her to get the pajama
bottoms on me had nothing to do with the fact that she took the time to
suck me into her mouth yet again.

   That action got a moan from me and a giggle from her.  "You know, baby,"
she said, laughing.  "I think I can drive you absolutely nuts doing that."

   "I have no doubt, sweetie," I said, tugging her up high enough to steal
another kiss.  After that I pulled myself to standing and stood there for a
few seconds without my crutches, just to get the feel of standing
unassisted.  She handed me my crutches and followed closely behind me as I
moved back to the living room.  It was nice to be able to move around on my
own, especially knowing that I never had to be alone again.  I sank onto
the sofa and Ronnie cuddled in against me.

   That was bliss.  I reached for the TV remote.

   "Nuh-uh, Dave.  "Music.  Something tranquil." I had just the thing.

   When that playlist ended, Ronni stirred.  "Move this to the bed?  I
still need to get a shower."

   "Okay," I said.  "One of these days we'll be able to shower together. 
Saves time."

   She smiled, extending a hand to help me stand.  I crutched back up the
hallway to my bedroom and lay down.  This time I got the TV remote to watch
something while she went through her evening routine.  She came out of the
bathroom looking refreshed and smelling delectable.

   I said so.  "Baby, whatever that is, that perfume, it works for you."

   "Mom gave it to me.  Dad likes something else on her." She smiled.

   "I really like it on you.  I never noticed it on your mom."

   She feigned horror.  "Uh, bud... you're not s'posed to be noticing how
my mom smells."

   "Just so you don't smell alike," I said.  "I can identify the way YOU
smell, and I start getting..."

   She didn't let me finish.  "I know what YOU get, buddy.  And I don't
want THAT bein' because of MOM'S perfume..."

   "Nope," I said.  "Gotta be my Ronni!"

   She crawled over me into bed, giving me a chance to caress her through
her nightshirt.  There was delight under that thin sheath of cotton.  She
had panties on, too, a concession to her period.  But that was a small
thing, no distraction at all as we set the sleep timer on the TV and turned
out the lights.

   Being able to turn myself in bed a little more freely with the new cast
made my night's sleep the best I'd had without pharmaceutical assistance
since the accident.  It also meant that I got to chase Ronni around the bed
when she got tired of lying with her face to me.  That was the position we
were in when we woke up in the morning, Ronni spooned back against me, and
I had a record case of morning wood, augmented by the delightfully feminine
ass pressed against me.

   When she woke up to my kisses on the back of her head, she recognized
what was poking her and wiggled that precious butt in response. 
"Mmmmmm-mmornin', babe," she said softly.  "Feels like ALL of you woke
up..."

   "Woke up with this angel in my arms..."

   She spun around to put sweet lips against mine.  A good-morning kiss. 
Perfect.  After it broke, I started to sit up, heeding the urge of a full
bladder.

   "You need help?" she asked.

   "Might, but let me try this on my own, first." Thankfully, I still had
the trapeze over the bed, allowing me to substitute upper body strength for
my reluctance to put more weight on my broken leg.  I stood.

   "Goody!" she squealed.  "You can stand all by yourself." She was only
being a LITTLE sarcastic.

   I 'clop-thumped' on my cast the few steps to the bathroom and the next
sound was a rushing stream as my bladder emptied.  I heard her giggle, then
the phone rang.

   "Dave's house.  This is Ronni." Pause.  "Oh, hi, Mom!" Pause.  "Yes,
ma'am!  We're fine!" Pause.  "No, I'm fixin' 'im Cheerios!" Giggle.  "Yes
ma'am!  We have a meeting with the attorney at nine-thirty." Pause.  "Okay,
Mom!  Love you too!" She turned to see me standing in the doorway between
the bedroom and the bathroom, most of my weight on my good leg.

   "Mom wanted to know if I needed help fixing you breakfast."

   "And you told her we were having Cheerios?"

   Giggle.  "Uh-huh!"

   "Does she know you're still a virgin?"

   "She did before I moved in with you," Ronni tittered.  Grin.  "B'sides,
we've done EVERYTHING BUT..." She tiptoed to kiss me on the nose.  "You
gonna go sit in your chair to eat?"

   "I think I'm gonna try the table, babe," I said.  I worked my way into a
dining room chair for the first time in weeks, maneuvering to give my cast
room to line up comfortably.

   Little smarty minced in with a bowl of Cheerios, giggling, placing them
in front of me.  She looped back through the kitchen and returned with her
own bowl.  "That's it on the Cheerios," she said.  "I need to make a list
and do some grocery shopping." She looked at me.  Are you up to that after
we see the lawyer?"

   "What're ya gonna do, put me in one of those cripple carts?" I laughed.

   "Could do that," she said.  "If you want?"

   "I'd rather not, baby," I said.  "And I'm not quite up to crutching
through the store just yet."

   "Then I'll drive you to the lawyer, then bring you back here.  D'you
mind if I do the shopping for us?"

   "You're shopping for 'US'?" I asked.  "Not me?"

   "Yeah, 'US', silly," she smiled.  "In three weeks this'll be MY house to
run, won't it?"

   "'S yours now, as far as I'm concerned.  You've taken good care of it so
far.  And me." She smiled.

   We finished our cereal and she collected the bowls.  This time when she
returned, she carried two mugs of steaming coffee, its rich aroma already
working gustatory magic.  She smiled.  "Wonderful part of our morning,
getting this time together, Dave," she said.

   Yes it is, baby," I said.  "Wanna go sit on the porch?  Oughtta be nice,
this time of the morning."

   She smiled gently at me, pure sweetness, and started getting up and
handing me my crutches, then following me out the front door.  She handed
me my mug as soon as I sat down, then she sat beside me.  I looked toward
my neighbors' house.  I saw George out on his porch also.  He raised his
own mug in salute, and I returned the gesture.

   It was indeed a pleasant morning.

   We had a nine-thirty appointment.  Had had several phone calls and a
visit by the family attorney, Dad's attorney.  Bob Seagrave.  He handled my
divorce, as much as divorces needed 'handling'.  Now he was going after the
driver who'd almost killed me.

   "What's this gonna look like?" I'd asked.  "I ran up a lot of medical
bills.  My insurance paid, but they want their money back if he's at
fault."

   "We'll get that, for sure.  Every stinkin' dime.  You had somebody stay
with you around the clock?"

   "Yeah.  My sister (little lie) and a neighbor."

   "Get you money for them, too.  Going rate for that service.  I'll get a
number." He scribbled on a note pad.  He said, "and then... there's that
other thing."

   "Pain and suffering?" I asked.

   "Yep.  Did some checking.  Boy's daddy's got bucks.  Heavily insured, of
course, but we could go after Daddy's pocket, too, since the kid's a minor.
Truck's in Daddy's name.  Got two ways to go."

   "Two ways?" I had asked.

   "Yeah," Bob said.  "We could go balls to the wall, see how much we could
get.  Might take a few years to get through the courts.  Appeals and all
that.  Or," he continued, "we throw THAT ball onto the court, and then see
what they want to settle out of court for.  That's the fast game.  I think
we'd do real well.  This is pretty much a gimme of a case.  It's not like
you're suing Wal-Mart.  These people are going to flop pretty quick to get
out of this without Daddy's name getting' in the news."

   So at nine-twenty-five Ronni was holding the door open to his office so
I could maneuver in on crutches.  As I headed for a chair in the waiting
room, Ronni went to the receptionist.  "I've with Mister David Johnson.  We
have a nine-thirty appointment." Very professional, she sounded.

   The receptionist noted the young creature before her.  She'd seen us
walk in.  "I'll let him know you're waiting," she said.  She walked back
into the hallway, then returned.  "Please, He's waiting on you.  Do you
need help, Mister Johnson?"

   "Nope, I got it, thanks!" I said, hoisting myself vertical with the aid
of my crutches.  Ronni stood expectantly by, if I needed assistance.

   Lawyer Bob met me at the door, then backed out of the way until I
maneuvered into a chair.

   I introduced Ronni.  "This is my fiancee', Miss Ronni Jameson.  I would
like her in on this mess."

   "Hello, Miss Ronni,' Bob said.  "Of course, you SHOULD be part of this.
Please sit down."

   Ronni sat next to me, looking quite proper.

   "Okay," Bob began.  "We itemized your costs to date.  Looks like
$161,000 in medical.  That includes everything except payment for your
live-in care.  And we're figuring $250 a day.  Six weeks.  Home health
nurse is in that $161,000.  The defendant's not contesting that.  So it's
covered.  That brings us to 'pain and suffering'.  I proposed three
million."

   Ronni's jaw dropped.  I remembered the previous conversation with Bob,
so I knew this was the first offer.

   "and..." I prodded.

   "And I think we'd get that, in maybe five or six years.  And then that
would be a structured payout thing.  And interminable court session and
filing and refilling, etc.  You know.  We talked.  "

   I nodded.

   "But there's a counter-offer, and I'm pleasantly surprised."

   "Oh, I gotta hear this," I said.

   He smiled.  "Seven hundred thousand.  Flat.  We sign the release.  I get
thirty percent.  No, tell you what.  Make that twenty since I don't have to
go to court."

   I looked at him, then Ronni.  She was silent.  "You think that's a good
deal?"

   "I know you don't NEED the money, so if you wanted to do the full court
thing, we could.  I'm just sayin' this gets you paid off, puts some money
in the bank, and we put this behind us."

   I looked at Ronni.  "We don't need to answer today, I take it?"

   "Oh, no," he said.  "go home.  Talk it over.  Take a week.  Whatever."

   Ronni raised her hand.  "Mister Seagrave?  Is it permissible to do a
counter-offer?"

   He looked at her, smiling.  "Of course it is, Miss Ronni."

   "Counter 'em with a flat million." She cut her eyes at me.  My turn to
be astounded.  She continued.  "I sat in the front yard holding my bleeding
fiancée in my own lap.  Kinda makes it personal."

   I WAS astounded.

   "Miss Ronni, I appreciate your feelings, but this is a legal thing. 
Don't take it personal.  "

   "Oh, I'm not," she smiled.  "But somebody's chain needs jerkin' over
this."

   Bob chuckled.  "Tell you what.  That proposal will be in the mail today.
Uh... Dave, if she gets you another hundred grand or two..."

   "She'll be hard to live with," I said.

   "For college," Ronni said.

   "You didn't have to worry about college, baby," I said.  "I had you
covered."

   "But..." she smiled.  "And, No, Mister Seagrave.  I wasn't gonna spend a
hundred thousand on college."

   He looked amused.  "Whatever, Miss Ronni.  We'll see what they say."

   We left.  In my SUV, she looked at me.  "Wow!  Lotta money, honey," she
said.

   "More'n I ever had at once.  I got a pretty good savings, but that's a
chunk."

   "So..."

   "So, I was gonna take the first offer," I said.

   "Dad says you NEVER take the first offer.  And if they wanna get crappy,
we can pull back to let ol' Lawyer Bob go to work." She looked at me. 
"Dave, let's don't tell anyone about this.  I mean, nobody's business."

   "Sweetie, that's a good idea.  If we get a settlement, though, I'd like
to help your mom and dad out."

   "You don't have to, Dave.  They're doin' okay."

   "I know that, punkin," I said.  "but a little running room, maybe a
special vacation, whatever..."

   "If we help Mom an' Dad, we should help Deb an' Terry."

   "Let's not count our chickens before they hatch, Ron," I said.

   "I know, but while we were helpin' people..."

   "Just don't want word getting out.  Somebody in a group coming into a
bunch of money, that changes things.  Sometimes not in a GOOD way."

   "I can imagine," she said.  "We'll be careful."

   We walked back to our front door just a bit before eleven, one of us
considerably more graceful than the other.  I went to the bathroom and came
out, backed myself into my recliner and propped my crutches conveniently
near at hand.

   "Okay, I'm gonna go grocery shopping, babe," she said.  "Want me to fix
you a drink before I go?"

   "No, I'm good," I said.  "Buying Cheerios?"

   The little darlin' stuck her tongue out at me as she left.  Mental note
as I heard her backing my SUV out of the drive: Ronni needs a car.

   An hour later she was back, unloading bags.  One of them was from the
nearby Chinese restaurant.  "I got you Hot and Sour Soup that you like, and
an order each of Beef with Broccoli and Kung Pao Chicken."

   "Smart girl," I said.  The only time I'd been with Ronni in a Chinese
restaurant was on one or another of our many road trips to her school
functions.  It never occurred to me that she paid that much attention.  I
heard thumping as she stowed groceries.

   "You wanna eat in your chair?" she asked.

   "No, lemme get to the table," I said.  I trapezed myself out of the
recliner and made my way gingerly to the dining room table.

   She was setting out the cartons of steaming food, and we dove right in.

   "Where'd you get this idea?" I asked.

   She smiled.  "I thought you might get tired of the normal stuff, an' I
remember us havin' it comin' back from one of the volleyball tournaments."

   "I thought so."

   "I like it.  Just don't get to eat it much." She sighed.  "It's
something Dad doesn't like, so when we go out to eat..."

   "Gimme a couple of days and you and I can go out and eat.  Anything you
want.  I'm getting' better at getting' around.  We can go places."

   She smiled.  "I always thought about me an' you goin' places together.
How we'd walk in together, you and me.  When I was a little girl."

   I reached across the table to touch her fingertips.  "I'll be proud to
take, you, little one," I said.

   We finished lunch.  "I feel bad about you cleaning up our mess, baby," I
said.  She'd never complained in the several weeks she'd been caring for
me.

   "Oh, don't worry.  Mom taught me how to take care of the house, and
you're helpless right now.  I know you keep a clean house by yourself. 
Right now I'm doin' it.  When you're better, we'll be doin' it together. 
'Cuz it'll be OUR house."

   "I know, baby," I said.  "Now, about that wedding date.  What you think?
Middle of July works for you?

   Ronni squealed.  "Yes yes yes yes yes!"