Many of my stories, originate in memories and events in my life. All contain a combination of real and fictional characters with names changed as appropriate to protect the 'guilty.' They are memoirs spiced with a kinky imagination.
I hope you will enjoy my stories and comment on what you liked and perhaps didn't like to help me improve.
THE BIG BROWN DOG
Many months later Matt stood astride his 1965 Triumph Bonneville motorcycle looking at the long stretch of black asphalt ahead. It was late in the day and he was three miles beyond the highway mile marker where she said he should look for the sign and the turn.
All he could see ahead, as he had all afternoon, was the long ribbon of highway dotted by water pool mirages. He never did reach any of that water but then he was sure they were only optical illusions caused by the heat radiating off the pavement. Surprisingly the big dog named Kelly that recently entered his life gave him a reason to live, something to give, but as he stood on the highway looking at the water mirages in the distance he wondered for the first time if Kelly was even real.
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For months he awoke every night to a dream of the crash, to the sound of the impact and his daughters behind him screaming. He was the pilot of their new small plane when it lost power and crashed into the Louisiana swamp. The flight to New Orleans was to be the beginning of a vacation they had planned for a long time. Instead it was the end of their time together and he was the only survivor.
Of course he blamed himself for the accident and after he was physically healed he sold the business he and his wife had worked for years to build. He then worked for others, always in temporary jobs, sometimes helping people build their own businesses and now at sixty-four he was working as a volunteer at an animal rescue center in New Orleans. His doctors told him that this job would be "good therapy". He had to admit that it was the most meaningful work he had since the accident. Sally's was started by a woman named Cara to help animals that were abandoned or lost and later rescued in the great storm and the floods that followed. Sally's was named after Cara's beloved Golden Retriever.
The big brown dog was near death when found in an abandoned house near the waterfront. It had no collar, micro-chip, or other identification. After an initial examination the vets decided it would be best to get the dog clean and dry, keep it warm and comfortable, and start intravenous hydration. If the big dog recovered enough they would attempt more extensive examination and decide its future. In the first bath the rescue center staff discovered that the dog was not brown at all but tan and might with another bath or two even be white.
The dog was at Sally's only three days when Matt arrived to take an "animal volunteer" for a walk. Now, of course, he was the volunteer at the center but ever since his doctors recommended that he work at Sally's he thought of each animal he walked or cared for as his personal "animal volunteer," after all it was good therapy for both of them wasn't it?
On no particular day, he was asked to check on the big brown dog's hydration, something he had only recently been trained to do. When he sat next to the dog's kennel he started talking to it in a soft voice and got no reaction at all. He looked, as was his habit, at the front of the kennel for a name tag, all the while talking to the animal. He didn't know that the dog had no identification when found and that no one had yet given it a temporary name as they usually did with unidentified rescue animals.
After he changed the IV hydration bag, he opened the kennel door all the way so he could sit directly in front of it to better talk to and be seen by the dog. He introduced himself again and continued to talk to the dog as though she were a person and could understand. Matt believed, of course, that dogs understand, if not words, then feelings and intentions. He stayed with the dog for some time and tried name after name thinking he could connect with the dog if he could only guess its name.
Cara entered the area and heard him talking to the dog. She approached and sat next to him on the cold cement floor at the entrance to the kennel. They talked to the dog and of course to each other. This was the first time they had any real chance to get to know each other. The following day Cara saw him arrive and took a break to accompany him as he went about his "animal volunteer" rounds. They actually had a chance to talk about his "animal volunteer" ideas about human PTSD therapy. Cara liked him and his ideas a lot.
Two days later he was sitting with the dog as Cara approached when another volunteer entered the area and he said to the young woman: "Hello Kelly, how are you?" The reaction from the big dog was amazing. Her tail thumped the floor like a drum and she was all over him like a puppy with dog kisses and licks. He looked at the dog and said: "Well, hello Kelly girl. You were just waiting for someone to recognize you and say hello, weren't you?" Cara, seeing what had happened, put her hand on Matt's shoulder and squeezed. He looked up at her and smiled.
Once again he was shown that dogs do understand and he put a tag on the front of the kennel with "Kelly" written on it. He and Cara and the volunteer Kelly celebrated the discovery, a big step forward toward recovery for the dog but also a reaffirmation for him that the work he was doing was worthwhile.
The following day and without really understanding the extent of her problems he approached Cara and agreed to pay any expense necessary to help Kelly get well. Cara was pleased and as their conversation ended asked if he would like to join her for dinner at her home on Friday.
Friday evening came and Matt was suddenly very unsure about dinner. Was this a date? Was he ready for a date with anyone. Too late to back out now......he took the wine he had bought and left. Matt had never seen Cara "out of uniform" and was very surprised and pleased when she opened the door to her apartment. She looked younger, not as austere, and she had long graying blond hair. Without that long white lab coat she had become a very sexy mature woman. Awkward and stumbling he extended his hand as if to shake hands. She smiled and pushed his hand aside as she gave him a big hug and pulled him into the room. Several things happened that he had not thought about or expected, perhaps sensations he had forgotten. She was strong. She smelled wonderful. She was soft. She had a woman's breasts and they were pressing into his chest.
Cara is a really good cook and dinner was great. The conversation was light and mostly about Cara's plans for a new clinic in Arizona. After dinner they sat and as soft jazz played they talked and worked on finishing the wine. As the evening ended they agreed that he would cook for them "next time" but they did not set a date. They walked to the door and he fumbled with the lock tumbler to open it. She reached in and said, "let me do that, it's tricky." When she turned they were face to face and had both suddenly run out of words to fill the space. She leaned in and kissed him or he leaned in and kissed her but regardless of who initiated the first kiss, she relocked the door.
They, both operating on instinct, moved back into the room while clothing littered the floor in their wake. When they reached her bedroom she pulled the quilt off the bed and pushed him back onto the bed on his back. Somewhere between the front door and the bed she had shed everything but her panties. Cara was in her mid fifties yet he marveled at her fitness. He watched her full breasts swing as she unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants off. Matt was suddenly worried. It had been a long time. Could he please her? He started to say something and she put her hand over his mouth and said simply, "Let me!"
