A View to Die For

Disclaimer: This is a story, a work of fiction, and any views expressed in it are not necessarily those of the author. It is an examination of some of the sexual and social mores that exist in today's world. If you wish to comment, but do not want to publicly identify yourself, rather than hide behind the 'anonymous' tag, please feel free to contact me by email through the link in my profile and I will address your criticism/concern in person and in private.

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I guess that you could say that I was a pervert and she was a prick tease. I didn't have a lot of choice, what with being confined to this rotten fucking wheelchair and the window next to my computer, where I spend most of my time, just happened to overlook the back yard and swimming pool of her house. It wasn't helped by her sunbathing naked at every opportunity. To make matters worse she would apply sunscreen to her body in such a way that I had no option but to jerk off.

I'm in this chair because of an accident during a car rally. I came over a crest at high speed, it looked spectacular on the highlights video, only to find a spectator had decided to run across the track about fifty metres ahead of me. There was little that I could do while I was airborne but as soon as I hit the gravel road I threw my car sideways hoping to wash off enough speed so that he could get safely across the track. He panicked and stopped running and I ran off the track and slammed into a large tree. If it hadn't been for the roll-cage I would have been killed, as it was my right leg was badly crushed and, after weeks of living in hope in hospital, the decision was made to amputate below the knee. That was a year ago and I'm waiting to be fitted with a prosthetic leg so that I can get up and about and out of this contraption.

In the mean time I'm giving this writing business a go, and it's not as easy as you might think, in fact it's bloody frustrating trying to think of something to write about, what with the distraction next door. Every time she picks up the bottle of sunscreen I imagine that it's me that's rubbing it into her gloriously golden skin, around the soft orbs of her breasts, over her flat stomach and her thighs that open as soon as she feels my hand on them. Her hips lift as my hand caresses the insides of her thighs and my finger gently parts her pussy lips. It's about then that I realize that my shorts are down around my knees and I'm going for it.

When I said that I was confined to this wheelchair that isn't entirely true, I can get around on crutches but find that the chair is easier when there are no stairs involved. My car required little modification to enable me to drive again, being an automatic I only need one pedal, but I've had to learn to use my left foot, being an Australian and driving on the left, it was my right leg that copped it, but once I mastered it I was fine.

My accident was the final nail in the coffin of my already fragile marriage, Elizabeth my wife, who was all for me rallying before we got married, resented my involvement in the sport afterwards. When we first met she volunteered to be my navigator but found the speed, at which we had to drive on gravel roads to be competitive, was too much for her. She became my crew chief, responsible for the logistics of the operation but when the kids began to arrive she used that as an excuse to cease her involvement in the sport.

Then she met the accountant, about as far from me as possible. He was stable, with a steady job, and no interests that involved putting his life on the line, in other words, boring. Following my close encounter with the tree she decided to take the kids and leave me for Mr Boring. I miss the kids and, on the too few occasions that I'm allowed to see them, I get the feeling that they miss me. Both Jason and Bethany seem to have inherited the rev head streak from me and get excited when I take them for a drive in the countryside around the Adelaide Hills. I have another reason for doing this, I fully intend, once I'm up to speed with my prosthetic leg, to enter into the Supaloc Targa Adelaide Rally. It's a tarmac rally and there is the Regularity category where the competitors have to average 90kph over each competitive stage. In some stages I realise that I'll have to curb my enthusiasm, while others will be difficult to complete the stage on time. Points are lost for finishing the stage early or late and vehicles are restricted to 130kph.

I dragged my eyes away from the vision next door and pushed my chair back from the desk. I needed to get to the supermarket to pick up some groceries because I've got the kids this weekend and I won't stoop to junk food for them. Macca's is definitely out. I showered and put on a clean pair of shorts and a tee shirt and holding on to my chair I hopped down the stairs to the front door. As I stowed the chair intro the back of my car I noticed the vision coming out of her front door. "Hi." She smiled at me. "Do you need a hand with anything?"

"No, I'm okay thanks, I've just about got the hang of this." I said as, using the car as support I hopped around to the driver's door.

"Okay, see ya." She waved as she got into her, holy crap she drives a WRX, (Subaru) and by the sound of it it's not your bog standard garden type Rex. Memories of the mess that I left mine in came flooding back to me.

I found a spot in the Disabled section of the car park and wheeled myself into the supermarket. I grabbed a basket from the rack and placed it on my knees and headed into the melee that was shopping. Luckily most of the good stuff was within reach and I soon had my basket almost full, and heavy. I was looking the male deodorants on the top shelf, I assumed that the stackers thought that men who squirted their pits were all tall and fit, not sitting in a fucking chair. "Can I get something for you?"

I looked and my jaw dropped. From this level and up this close she was amazing, I only had to raise my eyes a fraction to see those magnificent tits up close. Quickly gathering my senses, "Do you think that you could get me that deodorant," I pointed to my chosen brand, "Thank you." She reached up and in doing so the hem of her top raised a little, revealing some of her glorious flat belly.

She placed it in my basket. "There you go." She looked at me for a few seconds and just when I thought that she was about to walk away, she put her hand on mine. "You seem to be able to get around okay in your chair."

"I try, there are some things that I still have a problem with, but most things I can manage okay." I was trying to think of something that would prevent her from leaving.

"When you've finished here would you like to join me for a coffee?"

Would I? You've got to be kidding me, I'd jump through hoops to have coffee with her. "I'd like that, thank you." I said softly to hide my elation. She went through the wide checkout so that she could help me with my things and we set off down the mall to the cafe. We managed to get a table where I could park my chair without encroaching into the walk space and she went off to get our coffees, and as it turned out, some disgustingly fat making cake.

"I'm Tiffany by the way." She said as she sat down with the goodies. She was wearing a wraparound skirt and a fair bit of leg was visible for a split second until it disappeared under the table.

"Matthew, Matt to my millions of friend." She had a nice laugh.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you lose your leg?"

"I had an accident in a rally, some clown ran across the road in front of me and I swerved to avoid him and hit a tree."

"That was you? I read about that and it was on TV. There wasn't much you could do without hitting him."

"Yeah, and the thousand times that I go over it in my mind in slow motion, I realise that, but it doesn't make it any easier."

"It must have been devastating for you to lose everything like that, your leg, your car, it was your life wasn't it?"

"That's what my wife said to me when she left with the kids, that I had no room in my life for a family. She was wrong of course, it's just that she didn't have the same passion for rallying that I had and refused to see that I could have enough passion left over for my family. She was just looking for an excuse to leave, she'd already met someone else, someone that would devote all his emotional resources to her. Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so bitter, but it still hurts that I have such limited access to the kids."

"I really admire rally drivers, even more than the V8 Supercar (Australian Touring car class that evolved from production car racing) drivers, sure they drive incredibly fast but on a purpose built circuit while you guys have a mixture of surfaces and road conditions to contend with. I wish that I could drive that well."

"There's no reason that you can't, that is unless you're totally unco, it's just a matter of knowing the fundamentals and then practise. When you got your license, what sort of car did you learn in?"

"A Toyota Camry, why?"

"It's a front wheel drive and you drive a Rex now and that's all wheel drive, different technique entirely. For ordinary day to day driving most modern cars virtually drive themselves and you feel safe because of the design of the car and all of those air bags to protect you when things go wrong. The secret of good driving is to know your car so that you can prevent things from going wrong in the first place, and knowing how to react when things do go wrong."

"You sound critical of the driver training."

"I am, and for very good reason. Teaching drivers enough to go to the shops doesn't prepare them for emergency situations, you're not taught how to read the road and the surrounding area so that you can adjust your driving to suit the conditions. There is nothing in the driver training that will prepare drivers for country driving, high speeds on sometimes poor roads, gravel even, that requires a whole new set of driving skills."

"Have you ever been scared in a car?"

"Apart from seeing some clown running across the road in front of me, yes. Many years ago (not that many) a friend was building a racing brick (Mini Cooper) for the Classic Touring Car category. This car, on paper at least, had a top speed of around 300kph, I don't think it ever got there because it never got on the track. He took me for a test drive in it on this road that fell down a cliff in a series of very tight hairpin bends. There I was, strapping into a race seat, full harness, white knuckling the 'ohmejeesus' handle as we went down this road at over 70kph and then he turned around and went back up the hill even faster. I just about had to change my jocks."

"Do you think that you can teach me to drive properly?"

"Of course, I think that I'd enjoy that and I don't mean that in a 'dirty old man' kind of way."

"How about this afternoon?"

"Aren't you the eager one? Okay, let's get this lot home and I'll see what I need to teach you."

We finished our coffee and went home. I was still putting my stuff away when I heard her come through my front door. "Wow, look at all of those trophies!"

"Yeah I seemed to have picked up the odd trophy or several over the years."

She came into the kitchen. "Do you need a hand with anything? Forgive me, I should stop asking that because you're not helpless."

"It's okay, at least you ask, most people couldn't care less." I finished putting the stuff in the cupboards. "Okay, are you ready?" I grabbed my crutches and followed her to her car. I threw my crutches onto the back seat and climbed in. She was about to fire up the engine. "Before you start, are you comfortable with that seat position, I think you're a little close to the steering wheel, if you're not comfortable you'll find that it will bother you and you'll lose concentration. She adjusted the seat until she felt comfortable. "Now adjust your mirrors, all three of them, so that you don't have to move your head too much to see what's going on behind you." She carried out the necessary adjustments. "Okay, now you can fire it up."

I directed her to the start of a winding, hilly road, one that would probably be a Targa stage. "Stop here for a minute. What I want you to do is to drive as fast as you can, without getting onto the wrong side of the road and about two kilometres along I want you to pull over and we'll revue your performance."

After she'd driven the two kilometres and pulled over she turned to me. "Well, how did I go?"

"Not bad, not bad at all. A couple of things you could change though, you're driving this like it's a front wheel drive car, when you come to a corner brake a little earlier and not as hard, as you turn in, gently accelerate and increase your speed until you feel that it's getting close to its limits of adhesion, that's where you leave the throttle until you are out of the corner. It's all about balance, if you brake too hard and too late your car is unbalanced and you're more likely to get into trouble."

We travelled another couple of kilometres before I stopped her again. "That's good, you're doing really well, but there is something else that you can do to give your better control. I want you to go into the corner in the same gear that you intend to exit in. This car's peak torque comes in at fairly high revs, about 4,000, anything below that you're not getting the full benefit of the power you have, you'll find that you'll automatically start to adjust your gears and engine revs to give you better pulling power and better handling, once you master that you're well on the way to having effective car control. The points to remember are; know yourself and don't exceed your capabilities, know your car, what it can and can't do, that way you'll know how far you can push it and, when faced with an emergency, what you need to do to save the situation. Just as important is to be able to read the road, and I don't mean that patch of road immediately in front of your car, look ahead so that you can be ready for any emergency and so that you can avoid any emergencies."

"You are really passionate about this aren't you?"

"You could say that, ever since I got behind the wheel of a car I just wanted to be able to drive myself, and it, to its limits. Having given you a lecture, let's see how well you drive now." I will give her this, she was a good learner and in no time at all she had demonstrated a level of competence that many other drivers would never achieve.

She drove into my driveway and stopped her car. "Well, how did I do for my first driving lesson?"

"You did very well, you have a natural ability that many drivers just don't have, and I include many male drivers that I know. I think that you could develop those skills and become a rally driver, although until you get some experience on gravel roads I'd recommend that you stick to tarmac rallies, in fact. . . . ."

"In fact what?" She looked at me as if she was trying to read my mind.

"Well, there's a tarmac rally coming up in a few months, the Supaloc Targa Adelaide. I was planning to run in it next year once I sorted out my prosthetic leg, but if you're interested you could always enter and I can navigate for you, I only need one leg for that."

"You're serious aren't you? Do you think I'm that good?" I could see that, with a little encouragement from me she would jump at the opportunity.

"I think that you're that good, all we need for you to do is to get your CAMS (Confederation of Australian Motor Sport, the governing body for motorsport) Level 2S licence. We'll need to put in some practise kilometres of course, the Regularity Classification takes some getting used to, and I'm not just saying that so that I can see a lot more of you."

As soon as I saw that wicked look on her face I knew what she was going to say. "I think that you've seen pretty much all there is of me to see."

"You noticed, did you?"

"Yes, I noticed in fact I enjoyed myself teasing you and thinking about you sitting up there in your room jerking off, but now I'm sorry for that, I wasn't aware at first that you were in a wheelchair."

"Even if I hadn't been in this chair I would have still enjoyed watching you, wishing that it was me down there rubbing sunscreen onto your body. I enjoyed the show and, if it doesn't make me out to be a dirty old pervert, I'd enjoy it if you didn't stop, that's if it doesn't creep you out too much."

"I orchestrated the meeting with you today so that I could tell you what I thought of you, but having met you and talked to you, I realised that you're not the sick bastard that I thought you were, and when you volunteered to teach me to drive I went along with it to get to know you better. You did something today that I never thought possible and that was to awaken in me a desire to become a better driver. Having done that I have two propositions for you; in exchange for teaching me more about rally driving, and being my navigator in that rally, I'll actually allow you to apply my sunscreen for me. There's still an hour or two of perfectly good sunlight, how about it?"

"I don't know whether I can manage that."

"You won't know until you try. Didn't you tell me that when you first started driving you would push yourself and your car to your limits? If you don't push yourself you won't know if you can do it."

"If it's all the same to you I'd rather get to know you better before I leave myself open to the obvious temptation that your generous offer will surely present. Please don't take it as an outright rejection, it's just that I have been hurt once by a woman and don't want to rush into any new relationship."

"I understand your reluctance, in fact my invitation was a quantum leap of faith for me, I too have been hurt. I was in what I thought was a stable relationship with my boyfriend but after having told me hundreds of times that my job wasn't a problem he announces out of the blue that he can't take it anymore."

"What do you do? You're always at home during the day."

"I work as a croupier at the casino, days at home are my only chance to see the sun."

"That's interesting. One thing that I've always wondered about, you hear about big winners but what about the big losers, over a period of, say a year, would your average punter finish ahead?"

"If you do the math it's highly unlikely. When you factor in the casino's overheads and the money that they pay in tax, only around 85% of moneys invested will find its way back to the punters. I've seen punters have a big win and then lose it minutes later because they think that they're on a roll. If ever I had a big win I would take the money and run, but that will never happen, I just don't gamble."

"I'm with you on that. When do you want your next lesson?"

"Tomorrow, I don't usually surface until noon so any time after that would be great. Are you sure that you don't want to apply my sunscreen for me, I'll even keep my bikini on if that's what's bothering you."

"I've seen your bikini, you might just as well be wearing nothing for all the good that it does."

"Okay, but don't say that I didn't warn you, what you've seen up to now is nothing like the eyeful you're going to see this afternoon and I know that you won't be able to resist a peek."

I was warned but it still didn't prepare me for the view that awaited me when I looked out the window. She was seated on her sunlounge with a mischievous smile on her face as she poured the sunscreen over the upper slopes of her breasts and began to slowly massage it in, round and round her hands went cupping them and tweaking her nipples until they were standing out from her puffy aureoles, pushing her breasts together and allowing them to fall, no that's not the right word because it implies that they sagged but they didn't. Having thoroughly covered them she moved down to her belly, and again her movements were slow.