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THE DOORS TO GAYLE'S FUTURE" - PART FIVE 

    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:

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If you are not enjoying `Gayle', please e-mail 
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+~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+

"THE DOORS TO GAYLE'S FUTURE"

copyright: Merrill, Castle & Gray 1996 

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be 
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without the publishers prior consent in any form or 
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Merrill, Castle & Gray. 

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