With Life Cums Experience
Little did I know when we met, he would turn out to be my protector, mentor, confidant, and lover.
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I was seventeen when Cooper Reynolds moved into our neighborhood.
Though working here in Cottonwood, Coop had actually lived three towns away, where his family's construction business was located. After his wife died, Coop sold his house and moved into a lovely old house down the street from us. I remember the day he came over to introduce himself after Mom and Dad were in the driveway washing the car, and I was seated in my wheelchair on the front porch.
Introductions were made, and I think the friendship between him and my Dad started that day. As for me, I had been in a depressed funk for the last several weeks and was a little standoffish, definitely in no mood for introductions or the sharing of friendly pleasantries.
The winter before, I had been involved in a skiing accident in which I had experienced a devastating fall that injured my spine, leaving me unable to walk. Though my doctor was cautiously optimistic, he reassured me that I would regain the use of my legs with time and hard work. I couldn't face returning to school, so my folks arranged for me to be homeschooled my senior year. Confined to a wheelchair, I spent most of my day sitting on the front porch, watching other people live their lives.
Though Coop and I had only spoken a few times, sitting out on the porch or watching people from my bedroom window, I would see him a couple of times each day, walking his dog, working in his garage, mowing his lawn, just regular homeowner activities. Occasionally I would see a red sports car pull into the driveway, and a pretty blonde lady would get out and go into the house. She would usually stay the night and leave the following day. I figured she must be his girlfriend and thought, "lucky girl." Coop was a handsome man in his early forties, tall, hard bodied, with dark hair, brown eyes, rugged facial features, and full sensual lips. What girl wouldn't consider herself lucky to have a man like Coop in bed next to her, inside her at night? I chuckled to myself; after all, what would I know? I'd barely had a boyfriend before my accident, let alone had sex.
*****
For my eighteenth birthday, my parents sent me to visit my older brother Jack, who was stationed at the Pearl Harbor-Hickam Naval Base in Hawaii. I think the main reason my folks wanted me to go was to see a well-known orthopedic specialist who had his offices in Honolulu. I didn't want to go at first, but after talking with my brother Jack and thinking about the quiet and tranquility of just sitting out on the beach every day, I changed my mind and actually looked forward to the trip.
During my trip, one day, while stretched out on the beach sunning myself, a young man approached me and said Hello.
"Hi, sorry, I don't mean to intrude, but I saw you here and thought how pretty you were. So gathering my nerves, I decided to come over and introduce myself."
With a bit of a struggle, I pulled myself into a sitting position and stared at him as if he had horns.
"Go away," I said in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Oh, Okay..." he said. And as he was about to turn and walk away, he added, "I didn't mean to bother you. I just had this urge to come over and speak."
"Wait... I said I'm sorry. I must have sounded so rude."
"Yeah, you did sound a little rude," he said, breaking into a pleasant, throaty masculine laugh.
"My name is Michael, Michael Carnari. I'm in the Navy and stationed here at the Naval Base."
"My name is Bethany Phillips. I'm here visiting my brother for the summer. He's in the Navy too."
And that's how innocently our relationship began. Michael was twenty-five, handsome, smart, funny, and thoughtful. We were surprisingly open with each other from the beginning when Michael shared that he was engaged and planned to marry later in the year. I have no doubt he loved his fiancée, who was still on the mainland, but I could feel there was something between us. I told him about my sometimes depression, loneliness, and, most importantly, my disability. Happily, I realized it drew us closer together instead of repulsing him.
The physical side of our relationship progressed quickly, going from light fondling to kissing to oral sex and, inevitably, sexual intercourse in just a couple of weeks. Michael was my first, and though I was frightened and apprehensive, he was gentle and thoughtful when he showed me the kind of pleasure my young, broken body could experience.
*****
While staying with my brother, I offered to babysit for them so they could have a little special time once or twice a week. My brother Jack and his wife Linda had a two-year-old toddler named Marky, whom I loved dearly and would have babysat anytime if they needed me to. The fact that I was still, for the most part, confined to my wheelchair was not a major issue. The baby would usually play on the floor or in his playpen for an hour or so and then stretch out and be asleep by seven. I would read or watch TV until his parents got home and carried him off to bed.
I liked babysitting, particularly in the late summer afternoon. Little Marky would waddle over to me, and I'd pick him up, settle him in my lap, and wheel him out onto the rear deck. He'd snuggle into my lap, sometimes rooting for a nipple (I must admit, on more than one occasion, I gave him a milk-less nipple to comfort him). Marky would fall asleep, and we'd sit there rocking and dozing until I laid him on the sofa, waiting for Jack and Linda to get home.
Michael began to drop by on those evenings when I babysat. I would feed the baby his bottle, and Michael would take him upstairs for me and put him in his crib. We would go into the living room to watch a movie or listen to music while the baby slept. He enjoyed my sitting next to him and would lift me out of my chair and onto the sofa. While we watched our movie, he'd put his arms around me, and I, feeling safe and trusting, would often fall asleep halfway into the movie with Michael's hand cupping and fondling one of my breasts or rubbing me between my legs.
*****
Michael's fiancée was still in the States, and he hadn't seen her since her last visit to Hawaii. Michael had been celibate for the last year, and his arousal and male needs were obvious when we were together. We had been innocently flirting and teasing each other for a while, and slowly, our feelings began to draw us closer. I remember the first time we became intimate. I was not an experienced drinker, but one night we had had a couple of beers and were stretched out on the sofa with Michael spooning behind me. The room was dim and quiet as we watched a TV program when Michael began rubbing his erection against my butt.
Though still a virgin, I think I was just as horny as he was and wanted to feel Michael touch me; when he said, "let me take your jeans off, baby," I did as he asked. He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down along with my panties. Laying on our sides, Michael adjusted his position and freed his erection so that the leaking head was between my thighs. He didn't penetrate me but began to stroke between my thighs, letting his cockhead repeatedly brush against and over my swelling clit. Now and then, he would push forward so that he could keep his cock buried as far as he could between my thighs. He reached around in front of me and began rubbing my clit, which sent me into spasms. When he saw and felt me climaxing, he started to stroke faster, and I knew he had experienced his orgasm when I felt the warm wetness of his cum ooze out between my thighs.
I had never really seen a man's naked cock before, and I found myself staring, mesmerized by his huge, swollen cock. I should have been embarrassed and ashamed, but I wasn't. Michael rolled me over onto my back, and I lay there as he fondled my breast before moving his hand down to my pussy. He began to rub and love me there, and I could feel a faint tingling and achiness. It felt good, but on some level, I knew there was more. Michael managed to get his pants off.
He spread my legs and, getting between them, guided his stiff cock into me and slowly pushed. Although it hurt a little at first, I still instinctively tried to grind my pussy on his tip and
I remember thinking his gentle stroking into me felt good. Then without warning, he rammed his cock into my tight, virginal pussy, "Michael," I screamed. I groaned loudly, painfully, not understanding at first what was happening, what he was doing, or why it hurt so much. Michael stopped moving.
"It's okay, it's okay," Michael kept repeating, trying to quiet and reassure me.
"I knew you were a virgin, but I was hoping I could break your hymen without hurting you too much. Shhhh, shhhh, don't cry, sweetheart, it's okay," he said.
Slowly pulling out of me, he opened my legs wide and, leaning forward, began to lick my abused pussy with his warm, knowing tongue until I quieted and my whimpers stopped. Lifting my legs, he rested them on his shoulders and eased his cock, inch by inch, deep inside me again. I could feel him pulsing inside me, hot, thick, and powerful.
Michael began to slowly fuck me, and I could feel the friction of his cock against the walls of my no longer virgin pussy. When he pulled out and pushed back in, he would go deeper, making his cockhead push through the tightness of my inexperienced pussy until it kissed the mouth of my cervix. I started to orgasm for the first time with a man's penis filling me. He lay on top of me, and with each pulse of his cock, cum would spray out.
*****
When it was time for me to return home, I was heartbroken, but I think we both knew that there was no future in our being together. By the time I got home, I was in a better frame of mind than I had been in months. I enjoyed the time with my brother, his family, and my lover Michael. Lastly, I was thrilled by the encouraging news from the Specialist that I could be walking within a year with focused effort.
I had only been home for a little over a week when Coop walked across the street toward our house. Smiling broadly, his warm brown eyes sparkling, he mounted the steps and, with two long strides, walked over to me and extended his hand, saying, "and whose pretty little girl are you?" Shy and self-conscious, I sat there with my head down. Finally, looking up at him, I smiled and, nodding my head, said, "Mr. Reynolds, you know my name... I'm Bethany."