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From: "M.C.G." <mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: "THE DOORS TO GAYLE'S FUTURE" - PART FIVE
Date: Thu, 04 Jul 96 00:22:59 GMT
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MERRILL, CASTLE & GRAY (uk)
Adult Books On The Internet
WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT REFERENCE TO
EXPLICIT INCEST, UNDER-AGE SEX etc. PERSONS OFFENDED
BY SUCH MATTER SHOULD NOT READ IT.
ANY PERSON UNDER THE AGE OF EIGHTEEN YEARS MUST OBTAIN
PARENTAL CONSENT BEFORE READING.
Foreword
~~~~~~~~
Readers of `Tomorrow's Family?', recently serialised
in this newsgroup, will know the professional standing
of the father of the family concerned, `Alex' as a
hypno-therapist with wide experience of the cause of,
problems arising from and/or answers to questions
related to the practice of Incest. Albeit the topic is
controversial, E-mailed interest and support of the
airing of the subject has led `Alex' to obtain the
permission of some of his `patients' for their stories
to be told.
This is one of our dramatised, but true-account
"CASEBOOK SERIES. e-mail:
`mcg-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'
for a complete, up-to-date list.
+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+
"THE DOORS TO GAYLES FUTURE"
Chapter Five
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hobbling into his office, as Gayle parked her crutches
and with useless legs hanging in space, perched herself
on the edge of his desk, the specialist surgeon looked
up. Pointing to her foot, she quietly said, "Please,
Doctor, watch".
Rising from his chair, peering over the front of the
desk, the surgeon's bushy eyebrows shot up as he watched
Gayle's leg raise itself 15 degrees from the
perpendicular. Shooting me an uneasy glance, he asked,
"How long has she been able to do this?"
"For three or four days. At first it was only a
little, but she's been working at it." The process
that would eventually see Gayle and I separated had
already begun; since first discovering herself able to
move her leg, every spare moment saw her exercising it
and working to improve its performance. For her sake,
happy to the point of delirious, watching it improve
made the lead weight in my fearful heart sink.
"And where do you say these other places are, where
you can feel sensation?", the surgeon asked Gayle. She
told him the current list, and giving me a quick,
smiling glance, added, "There are one or two others
which a nice young lady cannot mention to strangers."
Some simple tests later, as Gayle was admitted to the
Hospital for more examinations, watching her swinging
herself down the corridor as she talked intently to the
surgeon, I felt even more she was walking out of my
life. Momentarily caught in a gloomy day-dream,
gradually dispensing with the need for crutches and
walking-sticks as she moved away, by the time she'd
reached the corridor's end, confidently walking unaided,
on her approach and disclosing the sunshine of the next
part of her life in the outside world, the swing-doors
miraculously opened. Returning the corridor in which I
stood back to dusty gloom, closing off the sunshine
around her as they swung shut behind her, without a
backward glance, she continued on out of my life and
into her own. Shaking my head at my own stupid
imagination, I snapped back to normal thought and alone
for the first time in months, unhappy and depressed,
returned home.
Sill thinking of the conclusions I had drawn, the
morning following our celebration, I'd been very quiet.
Wearing an emerald green, black-panelled one-piece
swimsuit, Gayle sat along-side me at the pool-side table
as she watched the other swimmers.
Knowing it would mean more hospitalisation, before
telling her surgeon, the news of Gayle's sudden
improvement being far too important and exciting to
wait, we decided to cut our holiday short and return to
Town after a few days more. Studying her, her head
in profile to me, from the slight sheen of perspiration
on her face and the occasional faint grimace of pain, I
knew, underneath the table, Gayle was working to try to
move her legs. Touching her arm, as she turned, I said
"Don't overdo it, sweetheart."
Gayle gave a small shrug. "I've got to keep trying,
Dad. I've got to know."
Knowing she was right, I fell silent. After a few
minutes more, deciding she'd done enough for the time
being and rising, I asked, "What would you like to do
to-day?".
Looking up at me, Gayle's face softened. "You know
what I'd like to do," she said quietly. Brown-eyes
pleaded with me. "Please, Daddy, make love to me.
Take me to bed. I need you."
The reasons against it still very clear to me, but
wanting nothing more in the world, awkwardly, my eyes
flicked away from her. Pursing my lips, I said "I'd
love to, but if I did, and something happened that
harmed your legs, I'd never forgive myself."
Disappointed, Gayle said slowly, "I hadn't thought of
that."
Picking up on my advantage, I continued. "Which ever
way we went about it, there'd be much physical effort
for you, and whatever has clicked back into place, might
just click out again." Pleased at having diverted the
problem but seeing her long face, laughing and squeezing
her hand, I sat down again. "Besides, we made a
contract, remember?"
Smiling cheerfully now, Gayle nodded. "I'm going to
hold you to that, and you'd better be ready to pay up
sooner than you think." She looked at me uncertainly.
"Mummy came again last night." Seeing my interest, she
nodded. "She said to tell you this awkward period will
soon pass. After that, you are in for a remarkably big
surprise; that you'll soon settle down and a very
wonderful person is going to come back into your life.
After that, it is all to be plain sailing. But not as
you think."
Calling over the waiter, I ordered two more coffees.
"And she said all that, did she? It must have been a
very long conversation."
Half serious, Gayle regarded me. "You shouldn't
laugh, you know, Daddy. Whatever you think, she's been
right so far. Don't you believe in such things?"
I thought. "I believe in the basic good of things, a
design, a fabric, which covers all mankind. But I'm
not sure about dreams, and planets and crystal-balls,
things like that."
Semi-incredulous, Gayle's voice sounded surprised.
"Don't you believe in Destiny? Or a God?"
Had Gayle been likely to be unhappily reminded by what
was on my lips to say, I wouldn't have said it. "I
certainly don't believe in a destiny which drops
bulldozers out of the sky." I stared questioningly at
her. "Where was God then?"
Obviously a quote, Gayle said, "`Man puts it wrong;
God puts it right'." She leant across the table at me.
"He was all around us that day, helping everyone to help
me." Seeing the cynicism on my face, she asked
quietly, "So how did I manage to survive? You saw the
car afterwards. Doesn't that make you believe I was
destined to live?"
The obvious reply sprang to mind. "Live how?"
Likely I was treading on painful ground, I immediately
regretted saying it, but Gayle was cheerfully ready to
defend her point.
"Oh, these!", she exclaimed, slapping at her legs.
"This is nothing, just a period of time waiting for
things to be put right again, that's all.
"All the days I was in intensive care, I didn't know
what was going on. I was unconscious for a long time,
but throughout it all, something was telling me
everything was going to be all right. Even as I woke,
I knew I was going to walk again, but that it would take
time and there was some lovely things to happen while I
was waiting. That's why I wasn't too unhappy, it's
kept me cheerful enough to keep going." Strategically
close to success, she sat back, a happy glow on her
face. "So come on, old Smarty-boots; if it wasn't
destined, how did I know?"
Floored without a rebuttal, beetling my eye-brows and
pretending to glower, I drank my coffee. "Damn your
mother," I said light-heartedly. "She always did know
better than I." I grinned. "What else has she told
you, then?"
Relaxing, Gayle laughed. "That everything is
controlled or influenced by destiny. We don't have to
believe it, and whether we like it or not, everything
will arrange itself, but in the end we'll like it and
come to see we had nothing to worry about in the first
place. Or ever will have again", she added as an
afterthought. "Destiny will see to that."
Mischievously, she glanced at me from the corner of
her eye and now not too sure if this was her mother's
`words' or whether Gayle was making it up, like a
hypnotised fool, I listened as she went on, "The same as
it's destiny for me to marry a tall, dark man who is
older than I. Someone who loves me very much for
myself, and who I love to pieces. That of necessity,
everything in our life will be cloaked in mystery, that
we will never have children together, but will adopt
some." She leant over, her tongue licking my cheek as
she kissed it. "And that someone is you!" Radiant,
she bounced in her chair. "So let's do it!"
Staring at her, suddenly smiling as I realised she'd
caught me, the words had caused the big problem to
reappear. "Look, Gayle..." I began awkwardly.
Still smiling, Gayle leant back. "Why, don't you
love me? You said you did. You know, like man and
woman."
"I do." I wriggled uncomfortably. "But I can't.
Leastways, not yet awhile."
"But you will", said Gayle confidently. "You'll see.
But hurry, Daddy. All the beautiful things happen
afterwards, and you're holding them up. I don't want
to miss a minute of it, it's so lovely." Suddenly, she
leant forward again, whispering. "Come on, Daddy.
Take me to my room. I want you. All this talking has
made me thirsty. For your loving." Seeing my tight
expression, she relented a little. "Ok, Ok, but there
are other ways. Mummy..."
"...told you, I know," I grumbled. Gathering our
things together, I stood up as Gayle's arms reached out
for me to lift her. "It might make life easier if she
told me few things. Why doesn't she ever speak to
me?" Tucking her into her chair, suddenly hearing a
cat's loud purring, I instinctively glanced behind me,
but couldn't see it.
Gayle giggled, "But Mummy does. She says she just
did."
Waiting as the lift carried us up to our floor, giving
a little race as a memory struck me, my heart skipped a
beat. When feeling very loving or happy with Gayle or
myself, Val's way of showing appreciation was to give a
sound like a purring-cat. Thoughtfully shaking my
head, I waited for the lift-doors to open.
Carrying her towards her bed, Gayle's lips found mine,
and suddenly finding the sixteen-year old replaced by a
beautiful young woman, as her emotional desire whispered
over me, as usual, all resistance blurred, then
evaporated. Standing with her in my arms, heat rose as
we nuzzled, our tongues licking round each other's,
soft mewing noises coming from Gayle as she rubbed her
breasts against me.
Eventually sitting her on the bed, as I went to lay
her down, Gayle shook her head as her fingers sought my
zip. "No, my darling one, not today" she breathed.
"Gayle's way."
Meekly, I stood there as her fingers slipped into my
fly. Touching the heat of my erection, I gasped and
pulling my penis out from under my clothing, Gayle
smiled up at me. "So Daddy likes his little girl's
cold hand touching him, does he?"
Aroused even more by her evocative words, I dumbly
nodded as my penis swelled. "That's good, Daddy, good.
It's big for me, all ready to love." Fingers gently
scratching, cradling my scrotum in one hand, finger and
thumb exposing its head, Gayle slowly eased back the
loose skin. Huskily, she murmured, "Mmm, if you knew
how much I loved it, you wouldn't even let me near it."
Ready to fall out, feeling my eyes bulge, I looked
down as a pointed tongue darted out to delicately flick
at the tip of my glans. Penis slowly convulsing, my
hand slipped to the back of Gayle's head, but gazing up
me as she wiggled her buttocks down on the bed, she
shook it off. "Nuh-huh. Gayle's way".
Now at just the perfect height, resting both hands on my
thighs, Gayle licked her lips and jutting out at right
angles, my penis jerked as moving towards me, I watched
her glistening mouth open. The dusky-pink wet tongue
protruded and engaging in the tiny slit, wriggled around
my purple-coloured glans. Receding between her lips as
she slowly eased forward, it kept flicking and touching
the heated flesh as her warm mouth gently consumed my
shaft.
Sliding across the torpedo shaped head, slipping over
the humped-ridge as she held my penis steady with her
mouth, darting around, sometimes dragging over the
head, under the bunched nerves, or drawing away to start
all over again, Gayle's tongue started earnest licking.
My head started to swim, and dimly realising deeper
developments happening in our relationship, shaking my
head and making to pull out of her softness, I tensed,
but holding it in with her lips, Gayle's firm hand
clutched my penis, then feeling me relax, slowly
removing it from her lips, her reproachfully looked up
at me. "Now are you going to just let things happen,
or does your little Gayle have to show what a madam she
can be?" To emphasise her point, giving a tiny growl
and baring her teeth, she gave my shaft a tiny nip.
Painful pressure in my scrotum and heat in my penis,
cursing myself for having stopped her, I knew her love
was overcoming me; as though life depended on it, I
wanted nothing more than to pour every tiny drop of me
into her. Uncontrollably jerking my penis at her, I
found myself gasping, "Do it, Gayle! Oh Gayle, for
Christ's sake, just do it!"
Feeling surrender and sensing love flowing, happily
smiling, her hands back holding my thighs, ducking her
head to gather it up, Gayle took my glans back onto her
warm tongue. Thumbs slipping round and pressing on the
soft, fleshy tube under my penis, as my daughter's
finger-tips skimpily-caressed its full length, her mouth
began to exert gentle suction. The swollen head held
between her lips as I held her shoulders, her fingers
slinkily slipped the straps of her swimming-costume over
her tanned shoulders. Desperately wanting to suck at
them as her breasts spilled out, I reached to maraud
them, but now her hand delectably teased under my
scrotum, rolling my angry testicles in the palm of her
hand as the other elegantly stroked my length.
Molten fire knifing up my vertebrae to race across my
scalp, rhythmically sucking and licking and rubbing me,
my wildly-haunching pelvis and shaking knees betraying
my urgency, she brought me to the verge of ejaculation.
Feeling the first semen-surge travel to enter her,
slipping me from her lips, her eyes blissfully closed as
her hand pulled my penis down to her, Gayle's open mouth
slid under my glans. Unbelievably erotic, causing
powerful, excited jets, I watched pearly sperm-snakes
cascade onto her trembling tongue. Mingling with
glistening saliva, overflowing and gathering in gliding
runnels either side of her mouth, hungry skin folds
grabbed it into her larynx as her tongue nursed my seed
towards it. My very soul spurting into it, I watched
this wonderful, beautiful, trembling little pink cavern
half-fill with grey-white seed, pause, and then, with a
shutter-quick blink, it was gone.
Slowly letting her lips release my sagging penis,
licking her lips clear of sperm. the last slippery pulse
of ejaculate dribbled onto the back of Gayle's hand and
sighing excitedly, she dandled a small pebble-like
nipple through it. "That's wo-n-d-erful", she
breathed. "My gorgeous Daddy's shiny love on my tits."
Pleased with herself, licking the back of her hand and
laughing quietly as she looked at me, she lay slowly
back on the bed.
Bewitched, shaky legs about to give way, fumbling to
slip onto the bed beside her, as we silently gazed at
the ceiling, locking fingers, my speculating hand sought
Gayle's. Sometimes a prowling-tigress looking to mate,
exceeding even her mother's flair, the past five minutes
had been better than I'd ever known. Yet almost
every day since the accident, I'd constantly been with
her, so apart from the incidents with Gemma, from where
had my daughter learnt such ways of exciting a man?
Unbelieving, closing my eyes as the thought emerged, I
quietly said, "Mummy?"
Knowing where my mind was, Gayle gave a little giggle.
"Sort of. A little inspiration, some imagination and
the occasional magazine Daddies don't really want to
know about." Rolling over as she giggled again, she
sprawled on top of me. "That, and a bit of divine
guidance and a bright girl who loves her man can do all
manner of things." Suddenly anxious, her hand ran down
my face. "Did you enjoy it, my darling Daddy?
Really, I mean?"
Fondling her hair, I gave her a long, gentle kiss.
"You know I did." I sought her eyes. "And you?"
"I've wanted to do that for a very long time. It's
lovely when you do it to me, but it's very much better
doing it to someone I love." With just a tinge of
uncertainty, her voice lowered. "Do you love me,
Daddy? Me? Gayle?"
Slipping my arm around her bare shoulders, my thumb
gently chafed her rubbery nipple as I cupped a breast.
"That's the trouble, my darling. Sometimes I think no
man has ever loved any woman more than I love you. But
you're not a woman, not yet at least and sometimes I get
concerned that when you are, I won't be able to love you
more than I do now. And I feel I'll need to. But
it's already at maximum power."
Very happy, Gayle's face lovingly crinkled around the
eyes as she smiled. "It'll develop, don't worry."
Perplexed, I sighed. "But it concerns me. If it is
as strong as it can be, when you've matured, you'll need
more and if you can't get it from me, I sometimes think
you'll go and find it with someone else. And that
makes me uneasy."
A deeply loving lick-kiss later, she whispered,
"It'll be all right, you'll see. If you let it, it'll
come. I live for your love, it's beautiful and I don't
want it to ever end."
"But you're my daughter. When you are able to walk
again, you'll be off and away. You'll want something
less sordid, a normal love you can tell everyone about."
Gayle lay her head on my chest. "Why should I?
This is what I want, it's not Daddy and little girl,
and it's much bigger than father and daughter." Eyes
deep with sincerity, she looked at me. "It's what you
are, the things you do, the things you make happen.
You're kind, attentive and generous with your love.
You're always making me laugh, you always have done.
When I was little, you did it because I was your little
girl, but now, you do it because you love me.
"What more could I want? Or for that matter, who
else would give it to me? Or could; who'd know where
even to start? You're considerate, you really want to
make love to me, and I know why you won't. It's
because you might cause some damage, isn't it?
Physical? Or emotional? Relieved Gayle hadn't
noticed the double-meaning, having deliberately misled
her over why I wouldn't enter her, wincing with guilt,
I nodded.
Soft-eyed, Gayle raised her head. Pecking me on the
tip of my nose, she said, "Don't think you're going to
get away with it. When I can walk, I coming after you,
but now we've come so far, until I can walk again and we
can become completely involved with each other, let's
enjoy the rest."
Resolving to put my fears on ice, relaxed now Gayle
had accepted the limitation of how far I was prepared to
go and what I was prepared to do, comfortable again, I
nodded. "OK".
Gayle pulled me to her. "Good! Now be a good father
and come and do something else you have always wanted to
do, but have been too Daddy-like and bashful to
mention."
Looking down on her, I kissed her eyes. "What's
that", I asked innocently.
"Suck my nipples."
** * **
Following on from these developments, with a delighted
gurgle of a laugh, Gayle frequently initiated sex at the
most difficult times. To escape the confines of the
house when at home, by deliberate choice preferring to
be out of an afternoon, we roamed far and wide in the
car, but at any time should the mood come upon her - or
I for that matter - finding a suitably quiet place, all
plans would be suspended until, one leg on the car seat,
the other propped on the steering-wheel, I'd lap at her
vagina.
Understanding, but respecting, the magnetic power she
possessed over me, often taken by a frequently randy
frame of mind, at the most inopportune moments and at
times teasingly-planned so I could do little about it,
all the time experimenting with new techniques, Gayle
entered into a game of turning me on. Picking a route
through traffic, or on motorways at high speed,
concentrating on the road ahead can be difficult if from
the corner of her father's eye, fighting hard not to
immediately stop and set about licking them, he has
noticed not only his daughter's grinning impish-face but
also the undulating curves of her inner thighs and the
damp groove showing in a fabric-covered vulva as at a
maddeningly slow rate, the hem of her dress is pulled
back towards her waist.
Thought out, designed and applied to have major effect
on all five senses, these things and more were of
Gayle's repertoire; with innocent, large-eyed, charming
smiles, a yawning brassiere illicitly revealing the
deep swell of the upper lobe of a breast, or a
deliberately-disarranged skirt showing higher-thigh, a
man with the strongest single-minded determination would
have been hard put not to succumb.
Not without risk of discovery by some wayfarer - "it
makes your cum stronger" - necessitating as quickly as
possible an emergency stop in some quiet corner, going
out with Gayle was more often an adventure than an
afternoon's drive.
Possibly as another form of natural compensation, in
my opinion when first detecting it seeping from her, a
copious quantity, developing into a veritable flood as
Gayle grew older, and more than her mother's had ever
been able, her excited vagina gave up such a quantity of
liquid as to be more than my mouth could cope with. To
the extent the covering of Gayle's seat of the car began
to show noticeable deterioration, before we thought to
take a towel with us, such was her flow, on a basis of
dire emergency on occasions, it was not unknown for my
having to buy her some replacement briefs!
On at least two occasions, having been stopped by
police for a minor traffic infringement, leaving me as
an uncomfortable, penis-erect on-looker, by careful
arrangement by Gayle of her movements whilst speaking to
him through the open car-window, the officer was
beguiled into forgetting to issue me with a summons.
On the first occasion, scarcely able to believe our
luck and amazedly shaking my head as I started the car,
looking at Gayle as the officer returned to his car, she
suddenly burst out laughing and looking inside the
neckline of her scoop-necked sweater as she pulled it
away from her chest, addressing them as though possessed
of intelligence, told her breasts, "Well done! I knew
you'd come in handy one day!"
And on the pretext of her body needing the energy of
the pure love it held for her, often more but at least
daily, with eyes of liquid devotion, Gayle would drink
my penis dry.
Although Gayle's progress was remarkable, to any form
of real recovery would still need a long period of time.
In the weeks between bouts of hospitalisation, where she
would split her time between physiotherapy, tests, other
treatments and more tests, she'd return home. Beating
all other forms of torture into a cocked hat, the subtle
lonesomeness of being parted from her when hospitalised
proved immaculate misery and so we wouldn't miss a
minute of each other, still turning up at the Hospital
well in advance, I merely sat at home just awaiting
visiting-times to arrive.
With her constantly on my mind, I couldn't help think
of Gayle's view of Destiny, and found minuscule details
of events leading us to this point of time constantly
nagging at me.
Cheerful nature can overcome a great deal of life's
adversities, but even so, Gayle had an uncanny knack of
turning other people from wrong to right, her presence
converting them naturally from hate to love. In her
company, it was impossible to be unhappy for long. The
course of her life had amazingly twisted so violently
and turned to no mean degree, but surely it was her
ebullient nature which had avoided her much suffering
and caused so much happen around her? Wasn't it?
But this other business of dreams of her mother, and
by her often profound sense of wisdom and judgement, the
sensations of wonderment Gayle so often aroused in me
was baffling and when Hospital visiting hours were over
and I was waiting for the following day's to begin, the
Sun's rising increasingly found me reading books on the
subject. Much of the evidence was tawdry, but
respected luminaries and academics found a great deal to
say in favour of the belief of life after death. Noted
figures and public dignitaries made much of `inner
senses', and the power of love to heal even the most
serious of human conditions and aliments seemed
universally accepted.
Often fussed of mind wondering what would happen to
Gayle when completely cured and mobile again, I thought
of visiting people who allegedly could communicate with
the world of spirit, but Gayle needing at least one
steady mind in her future, ashamed of myself for even
thinking of doing so, at the last moment I cancelled the
appointments; perfectly happy to go along with her views
and opinions, I stayed on the side of common-sense and
practicality. Even so, sporadically coming to the
surface when least expected, once thoughts on such a
topic start, like the Deathwatch beetle, they develop
the funny habit of ticking-away inside the head.
It was only some years later I came to understand that
to help her recover, and to help her to help others, on
our intimate occasions, like some form of perambulating,
bi-ped emotional-fuel-tanker with arms, I was delivering
daily supplies of love to my daughter. However, one
more door was soon to open, and then there might have
been complete mental unison between her and I. But yet
again like a fool, again imposing much more unnecessary
strain and problems on myself, again I went my own path.
Before then however, I was to undergo an ordeal making
even me wonder whether God, Destiny or the Devil were
merely toying with me!
Making her as comfortable as possible, indeed,
sometimes even treating her as visiting Royalty,
hospital staff went out of their way for Gayle, often
proving a happy adaptability to close blind eyes to some
of her more unusual activities.
Coming back to her bed-side in their own time to be
with her, Gayle spent hours talking to off-duty nurses
and at other times, although often remonstrating with
her when found in the company of an elderly or suffering
patient for being where she shouldn't or not being where
she was supposed to be, vast tracts of hospital regime
found itself being thrown away, suspended or placed in
turmoil for the duration of Gayle's visits.
Taking to her wheel-chair when on more and more
occasions she was permitted to leave the privileged
side-ward in which on her frequent visits they'd place
her, calling, `Won't be a minute, Daddy! I've got to
see Mary', or some such thing, she'd hurtle by at speed
as complete with fruit and flowers, I'd arrive on
Gayle's ward. Waiting for her return, spending time
with the staff with whom I was now on first-name terms,
they'd launch into telling me of the wonderful effect on
other patients and everyone else around her Gayle was
having.
During her hospitalised periods, a most incredible
sensation, doing its own thing, my libido operated on
its own wave-length. Excitedly anticipating scenarios
whereby, even in a busy hospital and even if only for a
short time, Gayle and I could find ourselves alone and
enjoy each other, I'd spend hours contriving and
planning how to arrange it. Full of self-induced
sexual-excitement, but with a completely uninterested,
deflated penis, happily and eagerly arriving at the
hospital with a perfectly splendid, fool-proof plan in
mind, I'd find there had been a last-minute variation
of her routine and my journey - and planning - had been
a fool's errand and like a selfish school-boy in the
throes of first-love, I'd be extremely disappointed.
But when least of all thinking of sex, on other
occasions upon coming in contact with Gayle, leaving me
amazed and speechless, instantly rearing and thumping,
my penis would be rampant. The damned thing led a
totally separate existence to me.
Very often though, it was merely circumstance which
kept us apart and freely acknowledging we were very
close and thought a lot of each other, others around us
understood our desire to spend time alone in each
other's company.
One day, talking to the Ward Sister whilst awaiting
Gayle's return from one of her `mercy-visits' to another
patient, I apologised for Gayle's often seemingly
disruptive behaviour. Somewhat sharply, the woman
replied, "No, nothing like it! She's like a breath of
spring, everyone enjoys her being here and other
patients benefit greatly from her company. More than
one patient has said that after spending five minutes
with Gayle, they find themselves wishing they too could
be confined to a wheel-chair. For someone like that,
we can't do enough!"
Somewhat disconcerted by her brusque manner, I went on
to thank her for the obvious concessions they had made
for Gayle's privacy. Completely different, looking me
directly in the eye, the woman's manner changed.
Visibly softening and relaxing, her tone of voice became
very positive as she quietly stated, "If she is to
recover, Gayle's doing what she has to do. God knows,
she needs her time alone with you, and if that's the way
He says it has to be, we're only too happy to assist."
That little snippet of conversation has stayed with me
ever since; the diplomacy, the fervour with which the
Sister said the words was striking, but always in my
memory is the directness, tone of her voice and look in
her eye as she said them: for an uncanny moment, it was
as though someone was speaking through her, or she was
relaying a message. But if I even heard it, I
completely misunderstood its application.
Distinctly varying from hospital standing
procedures, when for security and monitoring purposes,
all doors are kept open for a patient's own safety,
almost as though by some Angelic command, a `do-not-
disturb' sign had been placed on the door-knob, the door
to Gayle's private side-ward being closed seemed
regarded as sacrosanct amongst the nursing-staff;
indeed, on one occasion when for some innocent reason,
as we had entered, the door remaining open, with a
`sorry about that', a passing nurse had closed it for
us.
Whatever, the fact remained that as soon as we were
alone for even the shortest period of time, like two
super-powerful magnets, kissing and exploring, we were
instantly at each other. Oblivious to the world in
those first five minutes and despite the obvious real
risk of discovery, in tremendous quantity and almost
cracklingly-electric, using words, thoughts and physical
touches, violent power, lust, glowing tranquillity,
mighty roars and tiny whispers, strength, patience,
faith and warm gentility, desire, wracking passion and
every other form of expressive love flowed.
Gayle made it very plain, and for all the reservations
within it, an aching-pain deep in my heart told me the
need for deep, physical contact with her was becoming
essential to us both. Free to carry on a sexual-
liaison, apart from my inhibitions and fears for the
future, this would not now have presented Gayle too much
of a physical difficulty, but together with inherent
moral and legal complications, under the circumstances
it was impossible and desire becoming over-powerful, one
afternoon, ever-mounting need got the better both of us
and good judgement.
Resting on the hospital-bed, skirt up around her
waist, fawn-coloured knickers a tightly-stretched band
between her ankles, with widely-parted thighs and
whimpering little moans coming from her mouth as pushing
my penis towards it, my body bent over her head, my
hand was between Gayle's legs, my fingers immersing
themselves in the slickly-smooth insides of her vagina.
Approaching the height of our excitement, dripping,
glistening fingers jabbed into Gayle as my thumb
furiously tortured her long, thick clitoris, her hands
busily stroking my exposed shaft, open mouth hovering to
catch soon-arriving, squirting semen.
Even without sparking sexual-tension and the heavy,
musky aroma of excited woman pervading everywhere, a
totally-deaf, completely-blind person could be in no
doubt whatsoever what was happening when a slight sound
disturbed me. Frozen into fearful petrification, in
ultra slow-time, my head turned to the now-open door as
liquefied into a large blob of heavy mercury, my heart,
brain and intestines suddenly thumped into the
underground car-park ten storeys below us.
Crouching over her, my penis in Gayle's mouth,
threateningly-filling the doorway and from my position
appearing at least 12-feet high, bleakly staring at me
with a face of stone stood the Ward-Sister!
+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+
For Chapter One, e-mail `df1-mcg@bartra.demom.co.uk'
For Chapter Two, e-mail `df1-mcg@bartra.demom.co.uk'
For Chapter Three, e-mail `df1-mcg@bartra.demom.co.uk'
For Chapter Four, e-mail `df1-mcg@bartra.demom.co.uk'
We hope you are enjoying this story, but your response
dictates whether it continues or is withdrawn.
Therefore:
If you are enjoying `Gayle', please e-mail
`com-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk.
If you are not enjoying `Gayle', please e-mail
`com-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'
+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+
"THE DOORS TO GAYLE'S FUTURE"
copyright: Merrill, Castle & Gray 1996
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or
otherwise, without prior permission of the publishers.
This article is published subject to the condition that
it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise circulated
without the publishers prior consent in any form or
binding or cover other than that in which it is
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condition being imposed on the s ubsequent purchaser.
Merrill, Castle & Gray.
e-mail:ed-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk
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