28 comments/ 60394 views/ 52 favorites Battered But Not Broken By: HLD I submitted this story in the Novels and Novellas category because it doesn't really fit anywhere else. It's not a coupling, but nor it is a group sex story. At its heart, it's a love story. I love to hear from readers, so please leave me a comment or send me an email. Thanks once again to my editor, michchick98. Enjoy! ********************** "I, Amanda Claire Stephenson, do solemnly swear, that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God." There was some polite applause. The Army Surgeon General reached out to shake Amanda's hand for the cameras. The promotion ceremony was smaller than the last time she had been visited by the Army's bigwigs. Of course, this was merely a formality before her pending retirement. And it was less likely to make the news. She forced a smile for the three-star general who stepped back for the next part of the ceremony. Her husband came forward and the smile turned genuine. Brent's hair had a little more grey, but he was still as handsome as the day they met. Twenty-one years in the airborne tends to keep people in shape. He was dressed in a nice suit; to her, he looked so odd out of uniform, but then again, he had been a civilian for the past two years, having given up his military career to care for her. With practised efficiency, he bent over and removed the oak leaves from her shoulder epaulets, then replaced them with silver eagles. "Congratulations, Colonel Stephenson," the general said. "Thank you, sir," she replied, her gaze never leaving her husband. He returned her loving smile. All of the military personnel there saluted, then broke into a chorus of congratulatory greetings. There was punch and refreshments, all generously supplied by the cafeteria at Walter Reed. The others at the ceremony were just like her: wounded war vets in rehabilitation before being medically discharged. Mandy wheeled herself over to the food and fixed herself a plate of cookies and pretzels, never far from the watchful eyes of her husband. She made some small talk with a few of the officers, soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines she had gotten to know through physical therapy. She was almost done and within a week, she would retire from the Army and Brent would take her home to whatever their lives held next. She only wished she was more than a broken down soldier and a wife who couldn't satisfy her husband anymore. ************* They met at West Point twenty-seven years before. They were both plebes. He was there to escape the poverty of rural Georgia. She was from a military family, and given her aptitudes and personal drive, a service academy appointment was all but a given. Born Amanda Claire Thomas, she could trace her family back to English settlers in the 1740s. Her ancestors had served in every American conflict beginning with the French and Indian War through her service in Afghanistan and Iraq. Her younger brother was CO of SEAL Team Five and a handful of other relatives were scattered throughout the services. Amanda's forefathers had fought at Saratoga and Yorktown; they fled Washington, DC ahead of the British and captured New Orleans. They stormed the walls of Chapultepec, laid siege to Petersburg and followed J.E.B. Stuart on a ride around the Union Army—twice. One of her great-great-great-great aunts had even disguised herself as a man and marched to the sea with General Sherman. She had distant cousins who were Indian fighters. Others put down the Philippine insurgency and occupied St. Petersburg after the Bolshevik Revolution. She could name uncles who jumped into Sicily and died at Tarawa. Her grandfather was an aide to Admiral Nimitz and her father was a Marine Sergeant Major. Despite his ribbing about joining the Army, her father beamed with pride when he pinned her lieutenant's bars on after her West Point graduation. From their plebe year on, Amanda and Brent were inseparable. It was love at first sight. Army life was tough on them, though. After receiving their commissions, they married and were immediately sent to different sides of the world. She went to medical school and he went to South Korea. In the twenty-one years they were in the service concurrently, they never had a full calendar year together. Between staff assignments, training schools, overseas deployments and graduate schools, they spent more time apart than together. Yet their love and devotion never wavered. They knew what they were getting into from Day One, and the distance between them made the time they had together that much more precious. Brent was a regimental commander in the 82nd Airborne when the accident happened. She was in Afghanistan setting up a field hospital. While on a routine transport mission, the Black Hawk she was on got hit by one of the Stinger missiles given to the Mujahedeen by the CIA to use against the Soviets. The chopper crashed and her back was broken. Her left arm mangled. After being medevaced to Germany, both legs had to be amputated below the knees due to a staph infection, and she was paralysed from the chest down. Her husband hopped on a plane to Ramstein Air Base and never left her side. When told that her rehab would take years, he filed his retirement papers and left the Army so he could care for Amanda—despite her protestations. He waited on her hand and foot as she endured over twenty surgeries to treat her wounds and rebuild her shattered body. Mandy chided him for giving up a promising career, but he would hear none of it. "Four stars are worthless to me without you," he told her. And that was that. Brent could be a hard-headed son-of-a-bitch sometimes. He was on the fast track to general and gave it up without thinking twice. And deep down she was grateful that he was willing to sacrifice so much for her. She felt guilty because she could no longer care for herself; early on, he had to do everything for her. He drove her to and from the hospital. He cooked for and fed her. He made her do the exercises at home. Some days she hated him for pushing her as hard as he ran his regiment, but she knew she needed him. She needed his focus. His drive. Yet she also knew there was an emptiness in their lives. They hadn't made love in almost three years. She couldn't. She had very little feeling or movement from her chest down. The skin grafts and pins in her bones sometimes made even simple things like holding hands painful. Never mind having sex. Brent never complained. He never mentioned it. She knew that sometimes he surfed for porn on the computer when she wasn't around. When out in public, his eyes wandered. And she couldn't blame him. At her request, he masturbated for her. She would stroke his cock to orgasm and when she felt up to it, even gave him blow jobs, but it wasn't the same. She was never going to fully be his wife again. And both of them knew it. One of the things the Army does, especially for decorated heroes, is promote them on the way out the door. Even with his abrupt departure from the service, Brent was given his brigadier's star on the eve of his retirement, and her promotion to bird colonel was the same gesture. It let them draw retirement pay at the higher grade and put them up a peg or two when they went looking for post-Army jobs. Senior officers are valuable commodities in the private sector. In the two years of his retirement, Brent had done some consulting for the military, defense contractors, and a couple of think tanks. He found work as a talking head on CNN. Even before her retirement, Amanda was receiving offers to go on the lecture circuit, guest professorships and requests for her memoirs. When they left Walter Reed, Brent took her back to the apartment they had occupied since returning from Germany. Most of the things were already packed up. The next week was a blur. There was a formal retirement ceremony, then she was discharged and they moved back to her family's house. Over the next couple of months, they settled in. Once she got the hang of things, Mandy could get around quite easily. The master bedroom was on the main floor. They widened the doorways and modified the bathroom for her convenience. Before discharge, both had been rated by the VA and she began drawing her compensation claim the day she got out. Brent's rating was considerably lower, but then again he was still a whole man. They had put a sizeable amount of money away while they were married and when combined with their pensions, they were doing well for two people at the reasonably young age of forty-five. She went to physical therapy. He jogged and worked out a lot. They made a joint appearance on Oprah. They spoke to returning troops about adjusting to civilian life and visited with other wounded vets. Their anniversary was approaching and Mandy was determined to do something special for her husband. He deserved nothing less. Each night, she parked her wheelchair next to the bed. He would lift her gently and set her on her pillows. "I love you," he told her before laying his head down next to hers. She usually slept on her back, although sometimes she would roll on to her side. Every morning, she would wake up, Brent's arm draped over her. As the first rays of dawn broke, he would stir. She went to the bathroom and he went for his morning run. When he came back, he would take a quick shower and then make them breakfast. They had settled into a nice routine. There was something regimental about Army life and it extended into their retirement as well. Her physical therapy had progressed to the point where she could maneuver her wheelchair around without constantly turning to the left. She wasn't completely self-sufficient, but she was getting there. Brent was re-modeling the kitchen with lower countertops and drawers. Before the chopper crash, Amanda was a strong-willed, independent woman, and becoming a paraplegic wasn't about to slow her down. Her body just needed a little more time. "I made dinner reservations for next Thursday," Mandy told Brent one afternoon. She winked at her husband. "Don't plan on going to work on Friday." "Yes, ma'am," he bent over to kiss her. He gently caressed her face. She sighed inwardly, once again wondering why he had been stuck with an invalid for a wife. ************* "Are you ready?" Brent called from the bathroom. He came out a moment later, pausing for one last look in the mirror to make sure everything was polished and in its place. Her eyes lingered on his well-built form. They were in their dress blues. The ribbons and badges were their military biography and both wore a chest full of medals. "Just about," Amanda replied. It was her idea to dress up for dinner. Tonight was their twenty-third anniversary; each one was special since their twentieth had almost been their last. She wheeled herself over to him. He leaned over so she could habitually straighten out his tie and he could steal one more kiss. Then he pushed her through the house before loading her into the car. The drive to the restaurant was short. They talked about the usual things married couples discuss. Investments. Next weekend's schedule. His golf trip with some of their West Point classmates. Her appointment at the VA medical center. Upon arrival, they were immediately greeted by the owners who had gotten to know the pair fairly well. One was a college professor and the other was his wife. Brent had been a guest lecturer in Alan's World War II class on a couple of occasions and he had invited her to speak to them as well, but she had declined. Mandy was used to the stares that people gave her. On top of being legless, her left hand was missing the pinkie and ring fingers. Still, she felt very self-conscious. Her face had been spared injury or burns and her uniform bought her a respite from having to answer questions about how she had ended up as she was. Alan led them through the restaurant. Brent pushed her wheelchair and the staff cleared a wide path for them. Off the back of the dining room was a newly-added banquet hall. Since opening a few years ago, the restaurant quickly established itself with an upscale cuisine at prices that wouldn't break anyone's bank. They catered many events and it was a popular spot for weddings, proms and parties. The owners were known as proficient ballroom dancers and on Friday and Saturday nights hosted a seven-piece band that played as people dined. As part of being officers, Mandy and Brent were both used to attending formal parties and they could cut a rug with the best of them. At least before her chopper accident. They were seated at a table near the dance floor. The lighting was low. Despite Mandy making the reservation, it seemed that Brent had done some secretive planning on his own. She hoped his plans wouldn't conflict with her plans later. No one brought them a menu. Soon after being seated, servers brought them a bottle of wine, some bread and an appetizer. When they were finished and the servers were clearing their plates, Alan came out from the back pushing what looked like a barstool on wheels. It was a low-backed chair with armrests. Underneath a single support was a wheeled base. The seat was about waist high and could spin. "Would you like to dance?" Brent asked as Mandy's eyes teared up. He only grinned. Ever so gently, he lifted her out of her wheelchair and into the contraption. Alan held it steady as she got her bearings. It seemed sturdy enough. The room fell silent as the small crowd watched Amanda and Brent get situated. She felt dizzy with exhilaration. And love. "Ladies and gentlemen," Alan said from the stage. As he spoke, his wife Marissa came out and pinned a corsage on Mandy's lapel. "Please help me welcome a couple of true American heroes, General Brent and Colonel Amanda Stephenson." There was some polite—and curious—applause. "Both are graduates of West Point and just recently retired from the United States Army. General Stephenson is a career airborne officer, most recently having served as commander of the 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division. His awards include the Combat Infantryman's Badge, the Ranger tab, the Pathfinder badge, the Master Parachutists badge, the Purple Heart, and the Bronze Star with V device for valor." Alan paused and Brent waved politely. "Colonel Stephenson received her medical degree from Johns Hopkins and was commander of the 48th Combat Support Hospital in Khowst, Afghanistan. Her awards include the Combat Medical Badge, the Master Flight Surgeon Badge, the Purple Heart and the Parachutists Badge. Please help me in showing them our gratitude for their service to our country, and help them celebrate their 23rd wedding anniversary!" This time, the cheering and applause was louder and more enthusiastic. The band struck up a lively tune and Brent began wheeling Mandy around the dance floor. At first, she was fearful of her chair tipping over, but it was balanced enough to stay upright. Besides, she knew Brent would always be there to catch her. He did most of the dancing. Brent pushed her around in the chair, but as he did, she felt as if a small part of their lives was returning to normal. During the first dance, the floor was empty as people watched. When the second song started, Alan and Marissa joined them on the dance floor, and were soon followed by a few more couples. Mandy held her husband close. She squealed with delight as he spun her around. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw their servers coming out of the kitchen. Brent must have seen them, too, because when the song ended, he wheeled her over to their table. Setting her back in her wheelchair, Brent sat down. They had a full eight course meal, which was simply delightful. Neither of them had ordered a thing. Instead, food just showed up at their table and they ate it. The pair talked and laughed. Some of the other patrons stopped by to thank them for their service and even asked for a picture or two. Before dessert, Brent asked for one more dance. "Did you make this?" she asked lovingly and patted the arms to her chair. He only smiled. "No, honey, but the guys in the armoury at Fort Benning can be very creative." "I like it," Mandy said. There were tears in her eyes. Even if she had been fitted with prosthetics, she would never dance again because of the paralysis. "Remind me to send them a thank you note." When the tune ended, they returned to their seats and finished the meal. The restaurant's owners met them at the door and let them know that her "dancing chair" would be there whenever they wanted to use it. "Thank you for a wonderful night," Mandy said as she wheeled herself out. "You're very welcome, Colonel," Alan replied. "Don't 'Colonel' me, Alan; you're a civilian," Mandy chided playfully. "Then don't show up at my restaurant in uniform," he shot back before leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. "Have a great anniversary," Marissa winked before giving both Brent and Amanda a hug. "Oh, we will," Mandy gave her a secret smile. Brent waited for the valet to return with their car. After helping her into the passenger's seat, he put the wheelchair in the back and got in. The drive home was short. Amanda's stomach churned nervously. If the arrangements she had made had been carried out, her anniversary present to Brent would be waiting when they got home. Sure enough, the lights in the house were on. Brent parked in the garage, then got out of the car. He wheeled her through the kitchen but stopped in his tracks in the doorway to the living room. A young woman sat on the couch. She was tall and slender. A full head of auburn hair hung down past her shoulders. Her body seemed to flow seamlessly into her elegant cocktail dress. She stood and waited expectantly for the couple. "Happy anniversary, Brent," Amanda said quietly. For the first time she could remember, he was struck speechless. ************ "My husband can be rather hard-headed sometimes," Amanda said. The woman across from her smiled knowingly. She had been sent over by Marissa Gibson. Although Amanda and Brent had only been in town for a few months, they quickly came to like the Gibsons, who owned a well-established local Italian restaurant. Mandy had heard the rumours about Marissa, but it was the other woman who had initiated the conversation. After some oblique references to Brent's need for "companionship", Elizabeth had shown up at Amanda's doorstep one day with a business card with Marissa's signature on the back. Brent was out playing golf. "I'm not a front for my old madam," Marissa told her one day when they were in for lunch and Brent had stepped away with Alan. "But I can see that you two probably have some 'needs' that aren't being taken care of right now." Mandy blushed. Partly out of embarrassment. Partly because it was true. "I know a girl," Marissa said tentatively, "We used to work together sometimes. She's pretty and sweet. A consummate pro. She'll treat you both right. And she's very discreet." It took another conversation or two, but Amanda finally agreed to a meeting. Elizabeth was polite and straight-forward without being rude or abrupt. She was also a professional call girl. The two hit it off immediately. They made some friendly conversation before the topic turned to business. "I understand that you want someone to service your husband," Elizabeth said, sounding empathetic. Battered But Not Broken "Well, I certainly can't," Mandy said, the frustration evident in her voice. "You'd be surprised what you can do with a little bit of practise," the other woman replied. "Will it be the three of us, or just me and him?" "The two of you," Amanda said quickly. "We're going out for our anniversary, and then coming back here. You will be his present." The conversation turned to money and after some negotiating, they settled on a price for Elizabeth's services. "Oh, one more thing," the call girl started. "For any kind of penetration, he must wear a condom." "Of course," Mandy replied. She had just assumed that was the case. "Do people really go without one?" Elizabeth shrugged and gave a mischievous smile. "Some do. The last time one of Laurie's girls let a client do her without a condom, she fell in love and left the business." That was two weeks ago. Mandy and Elizabeth had made some last minute plans and worked out the details for this evening. And things were unfolding exactly as Amanda had anticipated. Brent's jaw hung open. "Good evening, General." Elizabeth walked seductively over to where the couple stood. "Colonel Stephenson." "Who . . . who are you?" Brent stammered. "Honey, this is Elizabeth," Amanda said softly. "You? . . . You know her?" "Of course I do, silly." There was a sadness in Mandy's smile. Sadness because she knew that it should have been her in the cocktail dress. It should have been her stepping into Brent's arms. Not Elizabeth. Not this surrogate. "I asked her to come over for tonight. She's . . . she's here for you." "What for?" "Perhaps you would like a drink?" Elizabeth asked. Her voice was sultry, and smooth with practised grace. "I think we all need one," Amanda said, her husband still at a loss for words. Elizabeth turned and Mandy saw Brent's eyes linger on her slim waist and shapely rear end. She enviously watched the other girl lift a bottle of champagne out of the ice bucket and pour three glasses. Mandy wheeled herself over to her spot next to the couch. Brent sat down. Elizabeth took her place on his other side. She was close enough to be intimate, but not smothering. Brent downed his entire glass in one gulp. Elizabeth and Mandy shared an amused glance. "I want you to have the most memorable anniversary ever," Amanda broke the silence. "And Elizabeth is going to help us." "What is she going to do?" Brent managed to mumble. It took great effort, but Mandy winked at the other girl. "You," Elizabeth said, a touch of laughter in her voice. Tentatively, she reached over and stroked Brent's hand. He unconsciously recoiled. The call girl didn't look offended or surprised. Mandy had to take a deep breath. In any other time, she would have jumped up and throttled any other woman who dared to touch her husband in such a manner. But not tonight. Elizabeth was there at her invitation. She was going to take Amanda's place in their marital bed. Not because that's what Mandy wanted. Because that's what her husband deserved. He had given up his career for her. He never left her side. He waited on her every need. Even after seeing combat in Iraq and over three hundred jumps, he was still handsome and in great shape. When he talked to his old Army buddies, she could hear the dismay in his voice. She knew how much he missed it. The camaraderie. The excitement. She knew because she missed the Army as much as he did. Where her retirement had been forced by her injuries, he stepped away on his own. Immediately and without hesitation. She was determined not to let him regret it. Amanda Stephenson knew that her husband missed the sexual part of their lives together. She missed it, too. Yet he never complained. He sucked it up and trudged on. And she was determined to repay him for everything he had given up. For one night at least. "I . . . I don't think that would be a good idea," Brent said, his eyes lingering on Elizabeth's body. Her dress was low-cut and accentuated her perfectly toned body. Her skin was soft and smooth. She could have been in Maxim or FHM. Instead, she was sitting on their couch in the living room. "Elizabeth, why don't you get ready for us?" Mandy said, having anticipated this. The other woman gave them a charming smile and she retreated into the master bedroom. Amanda and Brent watched her swaying hips. "What the hell is going on?" Brent asked once the door had closed. "I got her for you, honey," Mandy said, having played this conversation out in her head. After twenty-seven years together, she knew her husband better than anyone "I don't want anyone but you." "I know, Brent," she reached out and took his hands. "I know. And I love you for it. I love that you were willing to walk away from the Army for me. I love that you are there to take care of me, even when I don't think I need taking care of." She paused and wheeled herself back. So Brent could see her broken body. "Brent, we haven't made love in three years," she started, her voice shaking. "Do you remember the last time? It was in that bread and breakfast in Savannah. Right before I shipped out to Afghanistan. The sun was coming up . . . we made love in that bed and again in the shower." Mandy wiped a tear away at the pleasant memory. Brent tried to smile. "We'll never make love again." Her voice cracked. "Not like that. It's taken two years for me to be able to dress myself and get around in this goddam wheelchair. I can barely feel anything below my ribs and I can't move to walk, much less have sex." "If I can't have you, I don't want anyone else," he said, tears in his own eyes. Amanda steeled herself to say the words. "Brent, I want you to do this. I want this for you. You deserve it. I fell in love with you the moment we met. I knew we were going to be together forever . . . But I know you miss being intimate. I do. I miss it because I'll never be that way with anyone again. But you . . . but you can. And you should. I want you to do this." "I . . . I don't know if I can," he whispered. She wheeled herself over to the couch. With great exertion, she lifted herself from the wheelchair to the spot next to her husband. She swatted his hands away when he tried to help her. Cuddling up in his arms, Mandy lost herself to his strong embrace. She choked back the tears and knew he was doing the same. "Brent, go to her," she whispered. "Elizabeth is everything I am not. At least for tonight." "Mandy, I—" he started, but she put her finger over his lips to silence him. "This is your only chance, sweetheart," she said. Her voice fell into its "command" mode. Both she and Brent could turn it on and off at will. It elicited an automatic response in soldiers that brokered no discussion, no argument. It was very useful when they needed to get people to do things they normally would not do, such as assault a machine gun nest or have sex with someone other than their spouse. "Tonight is your free pass. If you don't take her, you'll never get this chance again." She saw the hesitation in his eyes. "Go, Brent." He started to say something but she silenced him again. Her voice softened. "Go . . . I love you." Almost robotically, he stood. Amanda watched him approach the door to their bedroom. He lingered at the handle before finally pushing it open. She heard him draw in a sharp breath. The soft glow of candlelight radiated out of the other room. His eyes locked in the direction of the bed. For an eternity, he stood there. Unmoving. Go on, she coaxed him in her mind. Go to her. He half turned, as if he were going to walk away. His posture indicated indecision. The house was silent save for the blood pounding through her veins. Without a word, Brent stepped into the bedroom and closed the door. On the couch, Amanda started to weep. Cradling her head her hands, she choked back sobs. What have I done? she asked over and over in her mind. It's for the best, another part of her said. Brent shouldn't be stuck with a cripple for the rest of his life. The minutes ticked by. She imagined what was going on. The other woman . . . the whore . . . was undressing her husband. She was stripping for him. She was arousing him. Her lithe body. Her pert breasts. Her flat belly. Her slender waist. She was perfect. Even Mandy had to admit that. Brent would be crazy not to want to fuck her. And she had enabled him. Her self-pity and self-loathing was interrupted when she heard the bedroom door open. Her head shot around. She started to protest as Brent crossed the room in a few swift, deliberate steps. Without warning, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He was still in his dress uniform, his collar and tie untouched. When they got to the door way, she saw the bedroom was filled with candles. Their soft glow bathed Elizabeth in an ethereal light. The other woman was laying across the bed, the sheets pulled down. She, too, was dressed, her shapely leg showing through the slit of her dress. "What are you doing, Brent?" Mandy asked. "We're going to make love," he said simply. "I can't," she whispered. "I'll bet you can," Elizabeth said softly. With a feline grace, she rolled off the bed and stood. Brent carried her across the bedroom and set her down in the chair next to the walk-in closet. He and Elizabeth shared a look then he retreated from the room, closing the door behind him. "What are you doing?" Mandy asked Elizabeth, a little bit angry. "We had an arrangement to—" "Your husband made me a counter-offer," the other woman replied simply. She began digging through the closet. Mandy could only sit there in stunned disbelief. A second later, she emerged holding a sheer nightgown. It had always been one of Brent's favourites. "Let's get you undressed." "Stop . . . Elizabeth . . . don't—" Mandy stammered. "Brent won't make love to me," Elizabeth said. "Unless you're with us. He loves you more than life itself. He's happy being able to finally spend time with you. Oh, he misses the sex, but he's willing to never have anyone else again if it means keeping you." Amanda started to say something but the words failed her. "I think it's very sweet," Elizabeth smiled, unbuttoning Mandy's uniform. "I wish that one day I could find a guy who will think the same thing about me." "I can't," Mandy said again. "I can't make love." "Only as long as you believe that," the other woman said, a hint of reproach in her voice. Moving quickly, she didn't give Mandy the opportunity to protest or react. She simply stripped her down. Elizabeth finished undressing Amanda and slipped the nightgown over her head. Her head swimming, Mandy blindly did as Elizabeth directed. "My body . . . I can't feel anything," Amanda whispered. "Not anything?" "Well . . . not much," she frowned. "The helicopter crash broke my back. I've got a little bit of movement . . . and some feeling . . . but it's like everything from my ribcage down had a big shot of Novocain." "But you can feel something?" "Not a lot." "We'll that's better than nothing," Elizabeth said and she sat down next to her. "Amanda . . . you have a rare gift: A man who would give his life for you. And you can have an active and satisfying sex life. It's just going to take some practice." "How can you know that?" "Do you think you're the only paraplegic in the world?" she said with a slight laugh. "One of my best clients is a man who got hit by a car when he was ten years old. He's fantastic in bed, even if he can't move his hips. He's had to get better at everything else. And so will you." "What are you going to do?" Amanda asked softly. Fearfully. "We . . . Brent and I . . . are going to make love," Elizabeth replied gently. "We're going to make love to you." "I'm not a lesbian," Mandy blurted out. "Neither am I." The other woman gave her an amused smile. "When was the last time you made love to your husband?" Mandy swallowed hard. "Four months before the accident. . . . Almost three years ago." "Why haven't you had sex since then?" Elizabeth asked. "Because I can't." "That's a crock of shit, Amanda, and you know it. What's the real reason?" "How can he want me?" Mandy whispered. "Look at me, Elizabeth . . . How can he want this?" Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Mandy and held her as she sobbed. It was one of those hard, cleansing cries. Amanda had never allowed herself one before and here she was, in the arms of a call girl, bawling like a baby. "Amanda, you need to trust me," Elizabeth said after a few minutes. "Your husband thinks you're the most beautiful woman in the world. You can't go back to your lives before . . . but that doesn't mean you have to give up everything, either. I won't do anything you don't want, but you have to give me a chance. Do you understand?" After a second, Mandy nodded her head. Her breathing was under control. "Say it." "I understand." "Good," Elizabeth reached out, wiped Mandy's tears away and gave her a comforting hug. "Now let me go get your husband." As Amanda sat in the chair, she watched the beautiful woman cross the room, open the bedroom door, and step out for a second. Mandy heard her talking to Brent, then they both returned to her. Her husband gently picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He set her down in the middle, her head resting on the pillows. Elizabeth slipped into the bed next to her. Together, they watched Brent undressing in the soft light. "He's so handsome, isn't he?" Elizabeth whispered. "Yes, he is," Amanda's eyes never left her husband. "So strong . . . so manly," the other woman purred. "He's a wonderful lover, isn't he?" "Yes." Mandy's voice was so low, she was hardly sure she had said anything. As if hypnotised, she watched her husband hang up both of their uniforms. His stomach was flat, his arms and legs rippling with muscles kept toned by hours upon hours of physical conditioning. He was built like a distance runner, the typical physique of Airborne soldiers. He was used to carrying 70 pounds of gear—before the parachute—and jumping out of planes. Even after leaving the Army, he kept up his training regimen and had the body of a man twenty years younger. "What's your favourite thing that he does?" "I love it when he eats me out," Mandy whispered. "Oh, god, Elizabeth! He's fantastic!" "I'll bet he is," the other woman ran her fingers down Mandy's shoulder, her fingernails dragging across her skin. A chill ran through Amanda's body. Her whole body. "And call me Liz." "Okay." Neither of the women had taken their eyes off of Brent. "What else do you like?" "I like it when he does me hard," Mandy breathed. "From behind. He's like an animal sometimes . . . he just fucks and fucks and fucks . . ." "Does he pull your hair?" "Yes . . . and when he cums, his fingers dig into my ass and he rams it into me . . ." Amanda became aroused at the memory, her nipples crinkled up. Her heart began to race, her palms began to sweat. "No, don't take those off," Elizabeth called as Brent started to push his boxers over his hips. "Put a robe on." He turned and took in a sharp breath when he saw the two women laying in the bed. Amanda was on her back, her chest rising and falling in shortened breaths. Elizabeth lay beside his wife, her hands running absently up and down the other woman's body. "Come over here, Brent," Liz said gently. "That's it . . . lay down next to us." Amanda was in the middle. Brent reached out and their fingers intertwined. Liz took her other hand and put it on his neck. The couple caressed each other gently. Both were oblivious to the other woman in their bed except when she subtly nudged one of them into action. They kissed hungrily, their passion for each other slowly re-awakening. Their love was never in doubt. Neither had ever questioned that. Mandy's hands went to Brent's shoulders and she pushed his robe down. Her fingertips brushed his weathered skin. Her fingertips, as sensitive as ever, traced the curves of his muscular arms and broad shoulders. He cupped her face with his hands, his lips never leaving hers. Elizabeth pulled Amanda's hair back, giving Brent a good look at his wife's beautiful eyes. His gaze was soft and loving. But deep down, his eyes burned with a renewed fire and hunger. Time seemed to stand still for Brent and Amanda. In the flickering candlelight, they only had eyes for each other. They kissed again and again. Without missing a beat or seeming to intrude, Elizabeth undressed each of them. They broke their lips only to pull Mandy's gown over her head. The call girl kept them touching and moving and never let Mandy feel self-conscious about her missing legs or mangled hand. "Touch him," Elizabeth whispered in Amanda's ear. Brent moaned as his wife began to stroke his cock to a full erection. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. Amanda jumped slightly when she felt an extra pair of hands cup her breasts. She let out a surprised yelp when Liz pinched her nipples. "I guess someone likes that," Elizabeth blew in Brent's ear. "Your turn." "Oh, god, Brent," Mandy moaned. Her head fell back into the pillows as Brent and Liz touched her all over. From her breasts up, she had full sensation. Her skin crawled and goosebumps ran the lengths of her arms. She had to bite her lip to keep from screaming as two mouths enveloped her breasts at the same time. Amanda's hands ran through both her lovers's hair as she pulled their faces to her chest. The tingling started at the base of her neck and Mandy swore it went all the way down to her toes. Finally, Liz pulled back as Brent kissed his way into the valley of Amanda's chest. "Do you feel that, Amanda?" Elizabeth asked. "Do you feel how close your husband is to you?" "Yes," she moaned softly. "Can you feel this? Can you feel me touching you?" "A little," Amanda said softly. "Watch me, Brent," Liz instructed. "Watch me rub her there . . . and then watch her face. You'll know when you hit the right spot." "But she can't feel it . . . can you, honey?" "Yes." A tear rolled out of the corner of her eye. "I can feel it. Not like before . . . But I can feel her touching me." "You just have to work a little harder and take it a little slower," Elizabeth said gently. "You try. . . . Go on . . . Touch your wife, Brent." Amanda closed her eyes as ripples of pleasure started in between her legs. Before, she would have been screaming like a banshee as hard as Brent was pressing against her, but it was a start. A cold jolt between her legs brought her back to the present. Elizabeth was squirting some lube onto her pussy. "Because Amanda has decreased sensation, she won't get as wet as you're used to," she said to Brent. "You're probably going to have to keep some lube handy. Always use a water-based lubricant. And don't be afraid of using too much." "That's it, sweetie," Mandy moaned. "Right there!" "Watch this," she heard Liz whisper. Mandy gasped when she numbly felt something enter her pussy. "Use two fingers," Liz said. Amanda's eyes were hooded over with growing pleasure. They locked onto Elizabeth's big brown orbs. "Rub her clit on the outside and push up on the inside. Now you do it." Brent's fingers replaced Elizabeth's. Mandy began to shiver. She never thought she'd feel this way again. Her hands clawed at the pillows. "That feels so good," she moaned. "Can I . . . can I lick her?" Brent asked tentatively. "You can do anything you want," Elizabeth said reassuringly. "Everything you used to do, you can do right now. Just remember that you have to take your time and not rush." Battered But Not Broken Amanda felt Brent's mouth on her pussy for the first time in three years. She let out a moan of pleasure that started in the depths of her soul. His tongue felt so good. He alternated licking and rubbing her clit. All the while, his fingers moved in and out of her pussy. Her heart beat faster. Mandy closed her eyes and her thoughts drifted back to a time long ago. It was their honeymoon and they were on a secluded stretch of beach near Destin, Florida. The sun was just coming up and Brent was going down on her in the soft, white Florida sand. The memory sent a chill through her body as Brent lapped at her pussy. He was in no hurry. She knew he wanted to pleasure her. A soft humming sound preceded a more intense sensation originating between her legs. "If your hands or mouth gets tired, you can use a substitute," Liz replaced Brent's fingers with the vibrator. "Alternate your mouth with your fingers. Look at her . . . her eyes are glazed over . . . her skin is flush . . . she's about to cum. She's about to cum for you, Brent." "Oh, yes," Mandy moaned. She seemed to be having an out of body experience. "Touch your breasts, Amanda," Elizabeth said. "Play with your tits while your husband eats you out and fucks you with the vibe." The combination of sensations pushed Mandy towards her climax. Although it was definitely different, the feeling was no less intense. There would be no more quickies, at least not for her. But neither would there be abstinence, either. Brent was a quick learner and his love and patience more than made up for the numb feeling that pervaded the lower half of her body. "Do you like that, Mandy? Do you like what your husband is doing?" Liz cooed. Mandy nodded eagerly. She cried out when she felt the call girl bite her ear lobe. "Then tell him how you feel . . . Tell him what you want him to do . . . He'll like it when you talk dirty." "Eat me, Brent," Amanda gasped. "Eat my pussy . . . just like that! I love feeling you inside me . . . And touching me . . ." The room started to spin and Mandy felt lightheaded. "Right there!" she moaned. She was so close! Elizabeth put her over the edge. Her teeth dug into Amanda's neck, right behind her ear. She cupped Mandy's breasts and pinched her nipples hard. Brent's tongue was a whirlwind on her clit and the vibe inside her was moving at a feverish pitch. What had started as small ripples of pleasure became waves that engulfed Amanda. Her body exploded in sensations she never thought she'd feel again. "I'm cumming!" Mandy cried out. Her voice was delirious, somewhere between exhilaration and ecstasy. Neither Brent nor Elizabeth let up until the orgasm completely engulfed her. She thrashed around on the bed, her arms flailing about. Mandy's cries became muffled sobs as her lovers slowly brought her down. Finally, she felt the vibrator withdraw and Brent took her in his arms. Elizabeth's hands ran up and down her body, always moving. Always letting her know that they were close by. Amanda pulled her husband to her, still in tears. She never thought she would be intimate with him again, yet her orgasm was as intense as she had ever felt before. Brent kissed her face gently and whispered sweet things in her ear. "I love you, Mandy," he said over and over. She lost herself to her husband's gentle touch. She felt his weight pressing down on her. They kissed again and again, wanting nothing more than to feel each others's touch. He pulled back and she looked into his hazel eyes. "I love you, Brent." Leaning in, he started to kiss her again, but she pushed him away. "Where's Elizabeth?" Mandy said suddenly. A sudden panic came over her. "I'm right here," the other woman said soothingly. She was the only one of the three who was still dressed. She had withdrawn for the moment, not wanting to intrude on the couple. Amanda reached out and took her in her arms. "Thank you, Liz." "You're very welcome," she replied warmly. "I still want you to make love to Brent," Mandy whispered in her ear. "Are you sure? I don't want to come between you two." "I'm sure," Amanda replied, sounding very sure of herself. Any insecurities she had were gone, knowing now that she could still have a loving sexual relationship with her husband. "I want you to pleasure him the ways I wish I could." "You still can," Liz said softly before releasing her from the embrace. "No, I can't," Mandy shook her head. "Not like he wants . . . or deserves." "What's going on?" Brent asked, confused. "Lay down next to me, honey," Amanda patted pillow. "Elizabeth is going to fuck your brains out now." "Sweetheart, I don't—" "Shhhhhhh," she placed her finger of his lips. "I told you before: this will be the only free pass you ever get. Brent, I love you more than anything . . . And I want you to do this. I wasn't sure before, but now I know it's right." "Mandy . . . you know I've never . . ." "I know," she said, a sad look flashing briefly in her eyes. "But this is what I want for you. I want this for us." "Us?" "Yes, honey," Amanda said. "I know what you've missed. And I know what you like. And you'll never have that with me again. So I want you to have her. Do all the things that we used to . . . I'll be right here with you." She saw the indecision return. Mandy took her husband's hands and pulled him to her. As they kissed, she motioned to Elizabeth. Brent gasped with surprise as he felt a warm, wet sensation around his cock. Elizabeth took his entire length in the first pass. Mandy watched his eyes glaze over. Any resistance he might have put up was instantly washed away by Liz's oral onslaught. She watched jealously as the other woman began to work him over. After the initial pass, Elizabeth alternated between sucking on the head of his cock, nibbling on the shaft and playing with his balls. Unable to protest, Brent fell back on to the bed. Liz's hands and mouth brought his cock to full mast. Entranced, Mandy watched the other woman go down on her husband. Her eyes were wide with envy at the way Liz expertly took Brent in her mouth. She seemed to lock her lips in a vacuum-tight seal around the tip of his cock. Her head bobbed up and down. Her hands ran the length of his shaft and cupped his balls. With a quick glance up, Mandy saw that Brent's eyes were closed, his head sunk back in the pillows. She reached out and took one of his hands and placed it on her breast. She cried out when he squeezed her nipple. The pain faded into pleasure at the sensation of Brent groping her. All the while, Liz continued to suck his tumescent cock. Amanda watched as the other woman alternated her pace and her intensity each time she went down. Beside her, Brent started to moan. "Do you like that, sweetheart?" Mandy whispered in his ear. "She's sucking that cock so good . . . taking it all in her mouth, just the way you like it." Brent always had a thing for her talking dirty. He bit his lip. His eyes were locked shut. Mandy turned his head and stuck her tongue into his mouth. He kissed her back passionately. She could tell that Liz wasn't letting up. He gasped with each pass. Pulling back, Amanda rolled on to her side and thrust her chest out. Brent's mouth enveloped one of her nipples, sending a shiver through her body. "Oh, Brent," she cried out. Her hands ran through his short hair and she pulled his face into her bosom. The three of them lay there on the bed for a long time, kissing one another. Through the carnal haze, Mandy noticed that Elizabeth had slowed her pace to keep Brent from cumming. He suckled on his wife's breasts. His hands groped and pulled her close. Amanda savoured the feel of his mouth on her body. For the first time in years, she felt sexy and desirable again. "Mandy," he whispered. "I want to be inside you." "Not yet," her voice was gentle, although it was laced with a touch of sadness. She looked down and saw Elizabeth stroking Brent's cock. The two exchanged a look. Amanda nodded to let the other woman know that it was okay. "I've got something special planned for you." "What?" "You'll see." Mandy leaned over and kissed her husband deeply. The desperation was gone from their touch. Instead their lips pressed lovingly against one another. Through the blood pounding through her veins, she heard the sound of paper tearing. Brent drew in a sharp breath when he felt the condom unrolling down the length of his cock. "Mandy . . . what's she . . . Elizabeth? What are you doing?" he stammered, his eyes wide with surprise. "Something I can never do for you again," Amanda replied softly. She lay on the bed next to her husband. She rolled into the crook of his arm, her head on his shoulder. She kissed his collarbone. He started to protest, but the two women brushed his hands away and pinned him down. Of course, even together, they weren't stronger than he, but they had the element of surprise on their side. Elizabeth lifted the hem of her dress and threw her leg across his hips. Her hand never left his cock, which was still hard. Amanda watched as Liz lifted herself up ever so slightly and then sat down. With a sigh of relief, Elizabeth lowered herself on to Brent's cock. She bit her lip to stifle a squeal of delight. Her eyes glazed over with pleasure. All Mandy could do was watch, jealous of the other woman. Knowing how good Brent felt inside her. Realising she would never feel that way again. Brent's hands went to Elizabeth's hips. He guided her down his shaft until their hips were pressed together. "Undress her," Amanda whispered. He pulled Elizabeth to him and slipped the straps of her cocktail dress down over her shoulders. Then he reached around and tugged gently at the zipper. She took the hem of her dress, lifted it over her head and dropped it off the side of the bed to the floor. Elizabeth was wearing a black lace demi-bra and nothing else. Both Brent and Amanda whistled admiringly at the other woman's lithe form. She was shapely, but trim. Her body was curved in all the right places, flat where it counted and strong and athletic. Her eyes were hooded over with pleasure and she returned the couple's lustful gaze. Elizabeth's hair had fallen over her face; with a quick toss of her head, it was gone. She took Brent's hands in hers and cupped them to her covered chest. Shaking with a combination of nerves and excitement, Brent fumbled with the front-mounted clasps on her bra until it popped open. Liz rolled her shoulders and the demi-bra fell on to the bed. With a flick of her wrist, she flung it across the room. "Fuck him, Elizabeth," the tremors in Amanda's voice betrayed both her fear and excitement. Fear that Brent would realise how much he missed the sex, and excitement at watching her husband make love to only the second woman in his life. Brent hadn't managed to take his eyes away from Elizabeth's chest. Her breasts were pert and firm. She brought them back and he caressed them. Mandy only looked on jealously. Her breasts were bigger, but they had the sag of a forty-five year old woman. Two decades ago, hers had been almost identical to Elizabeth's, but now they showed stretch marks and cellulite. Liz leaned forward and pulled Brent's face into the valley of her chest. She turned and looked expectantly at Amanda. "Yes," Mandy nodded. For just a second, there was a flash of understanding in the call girl's eyes. She smiled, an almost imperceptibly sad smile, then surprised Amanda by leaning over and planting a quick kiss on her lips. Without waiting for a response, she turned her attention back to Brent, first by thrusting one of her nipples into his mouth. "Do you like that?" Amanda asked her husband. He only grunted in reply, but she knew what he meant. Laying next to each other on the bed, Mandy and Brent watched Elizabeth slowly begin to grind her hips against the cock inside her. She alternated her pace—fast then slow—and shifted directions—up and down, then side to side—as she built a steady rhythm. Elizabeth's eyes were closed and Amanda saw the pleasure on her face. She looked over and saw a matching look on her husband. The pair of them found their sync. Hard and fast, followed by slow and steady. Brent's hands kneaded Elizabeth's breasts. In turn, she leaned forward so he was holding her up, leaving her free to control the intensity of their fuck. Amanda ran her hands across her husband's muscular arms and chest. She blew in his ear and kissed his neck. All the while, Elizabeth's hips moved faster and harder. Brent matched every stroke, loving the feeling of a woman riding his cock. In the candlelight, Mandy watched Elizabeth's swollen labia take the full length of Brent's sex. They moved with a hypnotic, almost natural, movement. Unconsciously, she found her breathing accelerated. Liz cried out, her eyes closed, as she impaled herself on Brent. Mandy's nipples were hard and she could swear she could feel the space between her legs flooding with arousal. Watching her husband make love to this woman stirred feelings long forgotten within her. "Oh, right there!" Liz moaned. "Fuck me, Brent . . . fuck me with your big cock!" The three of them gasped. The room reeked of sex. Harder and faster. With each pass, Elizabeth and Brent moved closer to crescendo. Her hands covered his and together they squeezed her breasts like ripe melons. "I'm about to cum!" Brent wailed. Elizabeth's hips were a blur. Brent thrust upwards with his cock and held it as Liz ground her pussy against him. "Cum in her," Amanda implored him. Watching her husband make love with the kind of wild abandon excited her. Not that many years ago, it would have been her thrashing about on top of him. She knew how the other woman felt. She knew the pleasures Brent was capable of giving. And she knew how much he enjoyed it. Seeing Liz lose control of herself made Mandy's body tingle once again. In her mind's eye, Amanda imagined that she was riding Brent's cock. That she was twenty-five again. That she was the only woman her husband had eyes for. The memories triggered something within her. She only vaguely heard Elizabeth's screams of ecstasy. Amanda closed her eyes as the rhythm of the two lovers in the bed drew her in. The room started to spin and for the second time that night, she orgasmed. It was one of those fully body orgasms that shook her from the top of her head down to the tips of her legs. A part of her registered Brent's grunts as he pumped his cum into Elizabeth. Amanda imagined that it was her pussy flooding with warmth around her husband's cock. When Liz cried out that she was cumming, Amanda did as well. The three of them collapsed in a heap, the sounds of their breathing filling the room. They were each covered in sweet perspiration. Mandy felt lightheaded and took many moments to calm down. She felt Brent's arm around her shoulder. Her hair was matted against him; she brushed it aside and kissed him gently. His hands caressed her face and neck. She began to tingle again. Not with the intensity of their early love-making, but with that gentle feeling that comes only with being near someone you love. It was several more moments before Amanda remembered that there was someone else in the bed with them. Elizabeth had rolled to the side and drawn the covers up around her. When Amanda looked up, she saw Liz watching them intently. And just for a second—maybe it was her imagination—Mandy thought there was jealousy in the other woman's eyes. "Thank you," Amanda said quietly. Brent only smiled as he cradled his wife to him. "You're welcome," Elizabeth replied gently. There was a brief awkward silence, then Liz slowly sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Amanda reached for her, "No . . . don't go." Both Brent and Elizabeth looked shocked. "It's your anniversary," the young woman said. "You two should be alone now." "You're a part of this anniversary, Liz," Mandy took the other woman's hand. "Please stay with us tonight." "Are you sure?" "Yes," Amanda replied before looking at her husband. "If it's okay with you." His eyes were wide with shock. He didn't say a word, perhaps not knowing if there was any correct response he could give. Mandy giggled. "Of course it's okay with you; what guy wouldn't want to spend the night with two women?" Brent and Elizabeth only smiled nervously. The room was silent for a long moment. Finally, Liz reached for the Kleenex on the nightstand. She slipped the spent condom off of Brent's cock and threw it into the trash can next to the bed. Then she stood. Amanda and Brent watched her naked body move with a nearly feline grace as Liz blew out the candles around the room. Finally, she slipped back into the bed. Brent pulled the covers over the three of them. Amanda cuddled up to her husband on one side. Elizabeth was on the other. Both women rested their hands on Brent's chest. Liz jumped slightly when Mandy reached over and intertwined their fingers. None of them spoke again that night. Amanda fell asleep with the rhythmic sounds of her lovers's breathing in her ears. ************* Mandy brushed the hair out of her face. It took her a second to recognise that it wasn't her hair. The thick auburn locks belonged to Elizabeth who was curled up next to Amanda. The morning sun was held at bay by the thick curtains. Brent was nowhere to be found. Amanda rolled over and saw that she had slept in. Her husband was probably out for his morning run. The woman in the bed next to her stirred. "Good morning," Elizabeth stretched. She didn't bother to cover up. Amanda couldn't help but stare admiringly at the younger woman's body. "Did you sleep well?" "Very well," Liz replied. On the inside, Mandy winced just a little at the memory of the previous night's adventures. Brent had taken another lover. Of course, it was at Amanda's prompting, but she still felt a little jealous of how Elizabeth was able to pleasure him in ways she could not. And she felt the familiar self-pity at being an invalid. Amanda rolled over to the side of the bed where Brent had left her wheelchair. After months of physical therapy, she was able to do many things for herself, so she lifted herself into the seat and wheeled herself to the bathroom. She could feel Elizabeth's eyes on her. After emptying her bladder and brushing her teeth, Mandy returned to the bedroom. Liz had pulled the covers over her naked body. An awkward silence fell over the pair. "Can I help you with anything?" Liz asked. "No, I can take care of everything," Amanda said, a little more defensively than she meant. After a long moment, Elizabeth looked into Mandy's eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you?" "No," she whispered. A chill ran down Amanda's spine at the look the call girl gave her. "Did you enjoy last night?" "Yes," Mandy admitted. "Did you ever think you'd have sex again?" She only shook her head. "Do you masturbate?" Elizabeth asked. Amanda flushed with embarrassment. "Come on; it's just us girls here," Liz pressed. "Not in a long time," Mandy said finally. "Why not?" Amanda couldn't bring herself to admit the truth. "You don't feel sexy, do you?" "No," she looked away, ashamed. It took a minute for her to gather her thoughts. "I used to be thin and young and cute . . . like you. But now . . . I'm forty-five years old. My tits are saggy and my whole body has spread out. And . . ." Mandy couldn't say the words. "You don't see how your husband can love a legless woman who can barely push herself around in a wheelchair," Elizabeth finished her thought. Amanda's eyes flashed with anger. Anger at Elizabeth for saying the words. Anger at herself for feeling self-pity. A soft, knowing smile was on the young woman's face. There was sadness in her eyes. "You don't know how lucky you are, sweetie. Brent is as in love with you today as he was the day you got married." Battered But Not Broken Liz took Amanda's hand and squeezed it sympathetically. "While I was waiting for you last night, I looked around at the pictures in your living room." Elizabeth pulled the covers down and patted the spot on the bed next to her. Amanda locked the wheels on her chair then swung her body into the bed. The two women pulled the comforter over them to ward off the morning chill. "After last night . . . when you two were asleep, I watched him. He held you so tenderly. When we . . . when we were making love . . . and I was on top . . . Brent wouldn't look me in the eyes. He stared at my tits and my pussy. He watched me riding him, but he wouldn't look at me. He looked through me. Because he saw you, Amanda." Mandy choked back a sob. "He may have been inside of me, but he was making love to his wife," Elizabeth's smile turned from empathetic to envious. "You two have something special. Something that only one in a million couples get: true, unconditional love. And for that I am jealous of you." "So jealous you'd trade your perfect body for a broken one like mine?" Amanda whispered. "Your body isn't broken, sweetie," Liz raked Mandy's arm with her nails. The featherlight touch left a trail of goosebumps across the skin. "It's just not like it used to be. Just as you had to re-learn how to dress and get around, you have to re-learn how to have sex." Amanda started to say something, but stopped herself. "How many times did you cum last night?" Elizabeth asked. "Two," she replied. "After the accident, you never thought you would again." It wasn't a question. "No." "And yet, you had two orgasms in a very short amount of time. With a little practice you can have a regular and very satisfying sex life." Elizabeth must have seen the doubt in Amanda's eyes. She rolled over and reached for the duffel bag that was on the floor. "Let me introduce you to one of my good friends. This is Mr. Rabbit." Amanda couldn't help but giggle as the young woman slowly unwrapped the sex toy from its packaging. With practised ease, Liz slipped the batteries in and turned it on. A soft humming sound filled the room. The tip spun, the beads on the side intended to stimulate the insides of a woman. "The vibe we used on you last night was a straight tube vibrator, this one does so much more," Elizabeth explained. "Once you put it inside you, this part stimulates your G-spot and this fits right up against your clitoris. You can move it in and out, or you can just hold it against you. The dial here controls the speed. Just turn it and it goes from slow . . . to medium . . . to Oh-Jesus-take-me-now." The vibrator let out a high-pitched buzz and both women chuckled. Mandy took the toy from the other woman and held it in her hands. She was becoming aroused at the thought of using it on herself. She knew Brent would like to watch her with it. "You have some sensation, right?" Elizabeth reached over the side of the bed for the lube she had used the night before. "That's right," Amanda replied. "Being paraplegic is kind of like being blind; for most people it's not complete and there are varying degrees of severity. For instance, even if I hadn't lost my feet, I will never be able to walk again, but I can still bend my knees like this and move my hips a little. If you touch me from the waist down, it's like being touched through a wetsuit." To demonstrate, she ran her fingertips across the skin on her leg. There was no response. Then she did the same thing on her arm and the hairs along the way stood straight up. "So when you use this, or when you and Brent have intercourse, you will just have to lube yourself up and take your time," Liz tossed the tube to her. Amanda looked tentatively, the resolutely made up her mind. She unscrewed the top and squirted a dab into her hand. "I will if you will." "Oh, twist my arm!" Elizabeth giggled. She pushed the covers down and the two women lay back in the bed. Once more, Amanda watched her reach over the side of the bed and produce a third vibrator. She offered the lube to her. "No, thanks. I'm still wet from last night." Both women gasped as they penetrated themselves. Low buzzing sounds filled the room. Their eyes locked together and they each began to masturbate. Mandy's eyes glazed over with pleasure. With the vibrator in one hand, she cupped her breast with the other hand. Both her nipples stood straight up. She worked it in and out of her. Elizabeth was right; it took a little longer, and she started out at a higher setting, but Amanda could feel the oscillations inside her and against her clit. Glancing over, she saw Liz playing with herself. Her eyes were closed and she indulgently ran her hands over her body, sometimes stopping to pay particular attention to a sensitive spot or two. Turning her attention back to herself, Amanda grunted and moaned softly. The minutes ticked by, lost to the pleasurable sensations emanating from between her legs. "Mandy," Elizabeth whispered, drawing her out of her reverie. "We have an audience." Amanda opened her eyes enough to see her husband standing in the doorway. His eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. She could only imagine what he was thinking. "Hi, honey. We started without you." The two women both sighed contentedly. "Can we do one more thing, Mandy?" "Like what?" "I want you two to make a sandwich out of me," Elizabeth said. She turned her vibrator off and rolled over on her side. Amanda's eyes were wide, the pleasure momentarily forgotten. "Trust me." "Okay," that was the only word Mandy's mouth could form. Without giving her the chance to change her mind, Elizabeth set her sex toy on the nightstand and climbed over Mandy, as if to mount her. Their breasts pressed together. Elizabeth pushed Amanda's hands away and she took control of the vibrator inside her. "Brent, I want you to fuck me," Liz called. There was a mischievous look in her eyes. Amanda saw the confusion on his face. She nodded her assent to her husband. "There's a condom in the bag on the floor. Put it on and then fuck me from behind," Elizabeth commanded in her most sultry voice. He crossed the room in three quick steps, flinging his shirt away and slipping his jogging shorts and briefs off. Mandy could smell his pungent odor. He had been out jogging, and between that and the sex from the night before, he was giving off plenty of masculine pheromones. Amanda was instantly turned on. "That's it," Elizabeth cooed. "Your cock is so hard for me, Brent. Get that condom on and put it inside me . . . Oh! Just like that!" Propping herself up on one elbow, Liz spread Mandy's legs. One arm was behind her neck, the other between her legs. Elizabeth gasped and Amanda knew Brent was entering her. His hands grasped her firm ass and he thrust his hips forward. She looked over Elizabeth's shoulder and her eyes met her husband's. They smoldered with desire. And love. "He's all the way inside me!" Liz said in Amanda's ear. "God, his cock is big! He's gonna fuck you so good with this thing, isn't he?" "Yes," Mandy gasped. She saw Brent pull back and thrust back in. Each time, Liz matched his stroke with the vibrator inside her. The three of them quickly found their rhythm. At Elizabeth's expert touch, Amanda's arousal quickly reached its peak. She felt as if each of Brent's strokes went right through Elizabeth and into her body. She wrapped her arms around Liz and hung on. "He's so hard, Amanda," Elizabeth's voice husky and burned with lust. "He's so hard for you." Amanda closed her eyes and groaned. "Brent's fucking you, Amanda . . . He's ramming his cock into you . . . It goes so deep!" Like the night before, Mandy was flooded with memories. She could feel the way Brent grabbed her hips and pulled her to him with each thrust. How he would pull back so only the tip of his cock was inside her then ram it into her a full speed. "I can feel him grabbing my ass . . . like he does to you." With each stroke, Liz let out a soft moan in Amanda's ear, only furthering her excitement. And like the night before, the tingling started between Amanda's legs. It was brought on not only by the vibrator which was running a top speed, but at the flood of memories that came over her. Liz let out a surprised yelp, and Amanda's eyes shot open. Brent had grabbed a handful of her thick auburn locks and pulled it back. Both women began to scream deliriously as Brent picked up his pace. Amanda watched his face. His jaw was clenched. His muscles taut. He was using Elizabeth's hair as if it were a leash. With each thrust, the younger woman's tits jiggled against Amanda's. Her throat was exposed. Her eyes were blazed with lust. Looking her husband in the eyes, she saw he was already gone. The normal loving husband had been replaced by a primal lust-driven beast. Oh, how she loved it when he got that way! His desire overpowered his reason. His lust ruled him. Brent had always been an ass man, and when he took her from behind, his hands grabbed onto her ass and didn't let go until he had cum. Brent was taking Elizabeth the same way. His brow creased and dripped with sweat. "He's going fucking crazy!" Liz moaned in Mandy's ear. "Fuck him," Amanda growled. Despite having Brent pounding her from behind, Liz never let up on the vibrator in Mandy's pussy. The room started to spin and Amanda knew she was going to have another orgasm. Liz knew all the right spots and was hitting each one. Where her orgasm the night before was triggered by memories, this one was brought on by a new sensation. Brent began to grunt and Mandy knew he was close. "Make him cum all over you," she commanded. Though lust clouded her vision, Elizabeth looked Amanda in the eyes. "No, Amanda . . . I'm going to make him cum all over you!" "Fuck!" Brent shouted. He pulled back and then went to give Elizabeth one final thrust. As if reading his mind, she pulled forward and he slipped out of her. Before he could react, Elizabeth swung herself to the side, taking the vibrator with her. In the same fluid motion, she reached back and slipped the condom off his cock, then guided his tumescent sex right into Amanda's pussy. "Oh, Brent!" Mandy sobbed as he filled her up. "Jesus! I'm cumming, Mandy! I'm cumming in your pussy!" "Yes . . . cum all over me," Her finger nails dug into his back. The tears were of pure pleasure and joy. "I'm cumming, too!" Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw stars. The orgasm enveloped her. Whether it was her imagination or a miracle, Amanda felt Brent's cum filling her pussy with warmth. She pulled her husband to her and let loose a scream that was sure to wake the neighbours. He thrust forward a few more time as his cock pulsed inside her. They kissed hard and deep. He was crying, too. The pair lost themselves to one another's touch. For just a moment, their lives were back to the way things were before. Brent's weight pressed down on her. His loving embrace enveloped her. She held him close. "I love you," she whispered over and over in his ear. He simply kissed her back with the intimacy known only by true soulmates. Neither of them noticed Elizabeth slip from the bed, gather a robe around her and leave the two alone. Nor did they see the way she paused at the door to look back enviously. ************* Amanda and Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table. Brent was in the shower. Neither spoke for a long time. The aroma of coffee filled the air. Fresh bagels, cream cheese and a croissant or two were spread out in front of them, the fruits of Brent's morning run to the nearby deli. "You're a lucky woman, Amanda," Liz said finally. She could only smile dreamily. "I don't know how I can thank you enough." "You can start by never letting go of that man you've got," Elizabeth said with a rueful smile. "I don't plan on it," Mandy replied. "Good," Liz shot her a mischievous smile. "Because if I had a guy like him, I'd never let him out of my sight." There was a pause in the conversation. Amanda looked over at the other woman curiously. "I don't mean to pry, but why don't you have a man like him? You don't have to answer that." "Because all the good guys I know already have boyfriends," Elizabeth's laugh was tinged with just a hint of bitterness. Mandy thought to speak but could see that Liz wanted to say more. "In my line of work, you just don't meet a lot of nice guys. And if I did, what do I say when he asks what I do for a living? It's not like I can just tell him, 'I fuck strangers for money.' It won't be for much longer, though." Elizabeth's eyes grew distant for a second. Then she snapped out of her reverie. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking about myself in front of you," she said. "It's all about you." "No, I don't mind, Liz," Amanda said, curious about the woman sitting on the other side of the table. "What are you going to do?" "This time next year, I should be defending my dissertation," she said, her voice unconsciously swelling with pride. "I'm hoping to go into private practice." "Doing what?" Mandy asked, unaware that the beautiful young woman was a Ph.D student. "Clinical psychology," Elizabeth replied. "My dissertation is on the role the internet has played in marital sexual activity." "That's very interesting," Amanda commented. "It is, actually. I could bore you with all sorts of statistics and stuff, but let's just say that I'm hoping I'll finally be able to hold down a respectable job." There was an odd tone in her voice. "Are you looking to get out of the business?" Mandy asked, hoping that the other woman wouldn't mind her intruding into her personal life. The gears started turning in her head. "The money's too good," Liz said finally. "I make enough to not have to be a GA or take out loans for graduate school. I make my rent and drive a nice car. It's a small price to pay for a lot of short term gain." "If money weren't an object, would you leave?" "Probably," Elizabeth said. "I got in it for the money. I also really enjoy sex; I always have. You could say that I'm something of a nymphomaniac. So when I figured out how to make money doing something I liked and was probably going to do anyway, it was a no-brainer." "I think I may have a proposition for you," Amanda said, her voice a little bit nervous. "If this is a long-term proposition, the answer is no," the call girl's tone was guarded. "Personal attachments aren't good for business. I like you Amanda. I truly do. And I'm jealous of the love you and your husband share. But our relationship is a business one." "Hear me out," Mandy pleaded. "I'll make it worth your while." "Does Brent know about this?" "No," Amanda said with a sly smile. "He may be a general, but he knows who's in charge of this household. Here's what I've got in mind . . ." ************* "Are you sure we can't talk you into staying with us for a little while longer?" Amanda asked. "No, I don't think that would be a good idea," Elizabeth took a deep breath. "Why not? You can't go home on your own." "Marissa is coming by to pick me up this afternoon," Liz said, looking away. "She and Alan went by your house this morning and got my stuff and took it back to my apartment." "I hate to just leave you here alone," Amanda reached out to take her hand. Elizabeth squeezed it sympathetically, then pulled back. "I'll be fine." "Thank you for doing this for us." There were tears in Mandy's eyes. "You're very welcome," Liz managed a weak smile. Both women stared off for a moment, their thoughts drifting. "You never held him," Amanda said quietly. "I told you before, Mandy: personal attachments aren't good in my line of work," Elizabeth's voice was laced with sadness. "If I had held him, I'd never let you have him. Besides, I know he's in good hands with you and Brent." Over the past year, the two women had become good friends. They lived under the same roof, and on occasion, they made love to the same man. In some ways, they had become sisters. And they were both mothers to the most darling little boy, who was off with his father in the nursery. "There's something Brent and I want you to have," Mandy knew she wasn't going to be able to change Elizabeth's mind, so she reached into the pouch that hung over the back of her wheelchair. She drew out a gift-wrapped package and handed it to Elizabeth who sat almost upright in the hospital bed. Elizabeth opened the card first. Besides the sappy thank you message, a check was taped to the inside. It represented the negotiated fee for Elizabeth's sexual services, as well as payment for being the Stephenson's surrogate mother, plus a little extra as a "graduation present". The package contained two framed pictures. One was of Amanda, Brent and Elizabeth. The three of them were seated at Alan and Marissa's restaurant. Liz was in the middle; the other two had their arms around her. Everyone looked so happy. The other was of Amanda and Brent holding their newborn son the day before. The two of them were radiant and more in love with the baby than they were in love with each other. If that were possible. "Thank you," Liz said softly. "We'll never forget you, Elizabeth," Amanda said, unsuccessfully trying to choke back tears. "We're going to take our son home and shower him with love. I promise we'll take care of him and make you proud." "I know you will," she replied, wiping her own eyes. "And we're going to tell him that he'll always have a fairy godmother who is thinking about him and loves him just as much as we do." Amanda reached out and took Elizabeth's hand one more time. "You're welcome to come by whenever you want." "I know," Liz said. "We're never going to see you again, are we?" It wasn't really a question. Elizabeth shook her head silently. "Thank you, Liz." Amanda tugged at her hand, and the young woman sat up as best she could. For the last time, the two kissed. Tears ran down both their cheeks. With a resigned sigh, Mandy pulled back. She spun her wheelchair around then headed for the door. As she was pulling it open, she heard Elizabeth calling from the bed. "The answer is yes," she said. "The answer to what?" Amanda paused. "You once asked me if I would trade my body for yours if it meant having a man who loved me as unconditionally as your husband loves you," Elizabeth's voice shook. "Yes, Amanda, I would give anything to have the love you and Brent share."