A new story with full introduction before the sex although there is lots of sex, everybody having sex is over the age of 18 ... if you like the story don't hesitate to say so and why, if not feel free to tell me what you don't like; don't forget to vote - thanks!
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I grew up in the north, North Dakota in fact. One of the things I loved to do as a kid was go sledding, rocketing downhill with the wind and freezing snow in my face, it was exhilarating. Not far from my parent's farm were several small apple orchards with three big hills and steep sledding trails. These were just the thing any boy my age would dream about in mid-winter.
Once school let out I would ride the bus just itching to get home and head out. One fine snowy afternoon I got home a bit early and Mom told me it would be Ok to sled for a couple of hours before starting my chores around the farm. I pulled the big red sled out and headed for one particularly steep hill about 20 minutes away. I'd never had the courage to try this hill, but today would be different. Even though I was scared, I sat my jaw and trudged as quickly as my legs would carry me to Buckhorn Hill.
Once I got there I swallowed hard, readied myself and ran flat out to the edge of the hill then jumped on board Big Red, holding on for dear life. It was all I expected and more; I was rocketing downhill, a good part of the time I was airborne, bouncing side to side, my arms trembling. I could see the base of the hill approaching and held on even harder when - BOOM.
The world tilted north and south, east and west, I remember the sky being very blue and the sounds of other kids on the smaller hills, and then everything went black. It seems there were several small boulders hidden under the snow at the base of the hill and when Big Red's runners struck them the sled flipped up and over tossing me one way and the sled the other. The problem was that as I came down to earth I landed with the small of my back directly on top of a large boulder - crack, bang, boom.
When I opened my eyes I could not move, it didn't hurt, I just could not seem to make my legs go or anything else for that matter. One of my friends had been watching me remembering my determination to sled down Buckhorn Hill, better known to us kids as "Dead Man's Hill." When he saw me fly through the air, land in a tangle and then not move; he took off for home and told his mom he thought I was dead. Shortly thereafter his mother and mine found me and managed to get me to the hospital in town.
The outlook was very grim indeed; a broken back with little expectation of recovery. Over the next few days it was determined that I had sensation in my feet and I could wiggle my toes just a little. Our family doctor explained to Mom that essentially my body was in shock and we would not know for sometime how things would turn out. My Dad worked on a state road crew clearing roads in the winter and since this predated the "cell phone age" Mom had to call the state office and they in turn called the contractor's office and then when the field supervisor called in they told him to have Dad call home. As you can imagine it took a couple of days before Mom and Dad spoke.
When they finally spoke it was decided that Dad would keep working, we always needed the money, and he would call in everyday for updates. From what I remember it was touch and go for the first ten days then things started to improve. At first my upper body was as unresponsive as my legs but soon I began to be able to use my hands and move my arms easily; but the lower body was more resistant. After 3 weeks it was decided that I could be released to home care. By then I could move my legs a little, wiggle my toes pretty well but no standing or walking at all.
My Uncle Clyde and Aunt Rae helped Mom get me home and settled. My Mom had set-up a small bed in the living room near the stove so I did not have to be in my bedroom upstairs. After Uncle Clyde carried me into the house he tousled my hair and said, "Hell Buddy, it's all gonna' alright, you just hang in there!" I remember thinking, "Whooped dee fuckin' do!"
Of course I did not say that out loud because sick, near dead, crippled or whatever, nothing would have stopped my Mom from shoving a bar of Lifebuoy soap into my mouth for cussing. So I just lay there in a dark pit of despair, certain that my life was completely over and done with.
Uncle Clyde went back to work leaving Mom and Aunt Rae to work on me. Mom made me a cup of sweet onion tea, it's full of Vitamin C don't ya' know. Then she explained that just because I was not at my best, there would be no skipping school. She had all my books, assignments and tests so that I could study at home and be the success she knew I would be. You're right; my first thought was, "Ya fuckin' who!" No, I did not say that out loud either.
To give you a little perspective, I should tell you something about my family; my Mom's side was Norwegian and French Canadian. Grandpa Lars was your typical Viking; he stood about 6'5" and looked like the rocky side of the mountain, Grandma Ava not so big. I've always thought that one of her fur trapper French forebears spent a few winters with a friendly Indian lady because Grandma Ava had button black eyes and stood a whole 5' nothing and if she weighed 100 pounds I'd kiss your butt in church on Sunday. Around out town folks always laughed at the sight of my Grandma and Grandpa - he as big as a house and she just a tiny dove of a woman.
So Mom, Olivia Jane better known as "Livy" takes after Grandma Ava and Aunt Rae takes after Grandpa Lars. Mom is 5'3", slender and very shapely, with deep dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. She is a pretty woman with all the right parts and pieces just on the small side. Aunt Rae stands a full 6' tall, broad shouldered, blond hair, bright blue eyes and a smile as bright as sunshine on new snow ... she is one big woman, not fat, just big. It's a good thing that Uncle Clyde is one of those oversized Norwegians. My Dad's family is mostly German so he's more normal looking, pretty good sized at about 6'. That leaves me, James Daniel better known as "Jimmy" by the time I'm full grown I'll be 5'11" a solid 170 pounds with Mom's coloring and Dad's bright green eyes.
But for now, I'm not solid, I'm not tall and I'm generally kind of crumpled.
Getting back to Aunt Rae, she is the Tri-County Physical Therapist. Although she is based at out little hospital, she travels three counties working with shut-ins, cripples and injured folks helping them get as well as possible. So it was not much of a surprise when she came into the living room with her big brown bag and a couple of towels. She whipped off my blanked and sheet saying, "Roll over buster we got to get some blood flowing so you can get better."
"Look, Aunt Rae, I'm tired and I need to rest, can't we please do this some other time?"
"Nope, turn your butt over," she said.
"I don't want too right now, later Ok?"
With that she reached in and rolled me onto my belly, I flopped over like a fish. "Ah shit!" I said.
"What did you say boy?"
"Nuthin .."
"You want me to call your Mother in here boy?"
"No."
"Then you better cooperate because I know your Mom must have about a dozen bars of Lifebuoy stored somewhere around here, am I right?"
"Yes Ma'am, I guess I'm yours."
With that she tugged my pajama bottoms off leaving my bare bottom shinning and pushed my shirt up pouring some nasty smelling liniment on my lower back after which she began massaging me without mercy. I don't know how long it lasted but I swear it was at least a year. And then she rubbed me down with a dry towel and added some sort of oil and massaged a good while more. When the torture finally came to an end, she applied a heat plaster to my entire lower back, pulled my pj's up, and rolled me over.
"Honey," she said "this will probably burn a little but don't worry It won't blister and you'll be better for it. I'll be back tomorrow and we'll do it again." I vividly remember thinking, "Sweet Jesus, holy fuckin' shit, I can't wait."
And sure enough, she came ever day and always showed Mom what to do in the event she could not be there. Between these two angels, who loved me dearly, I was walking with crutches 6 months later. Old Doctor Martin declared it "a true miracle from God." I'm not saying God did not have a hand in it, but the true miracle came in the form of my Aunt Rae and my Mother who never gave me a day off and willed me to be well. I was able to return to high school in my Junior year, only to be assigned a new form of torture by my sweet Aunt Rae.
The woman who taught Girls Physical Education, Miss Jane Carson, taught a ladies yoga class two nights a week and every other Saturday afternoon at the Methodist Church. Aunt Rae convinced my Mother that basic yoga training would be a real benefit for my back, increasing flexibility and strengthening the muscles that held me together. Although Mom did not think it was a good idea to put a hormone laden teenage in a class with women bending into strange positions, she agreed in the end.
Throughout my Junior and Senior High School years I attended yoga classes 2 to 3 times a week, each and every week. That's where I learned Cat and Cow Poses, Downward Dog, Spinal Twist, Chair Pose and the legendary Standing Forward Bend. To tell the truth, after I adjusted to seeing a variety of ladies stuffed into tight legging and strappy shirts, it wasn't so bad and I felt great. No residual back pain, another miracle according to Doc, full range of motion and I was really, really flexible - Thank you Aunt Rae, Thank You Mom and a very special Thank You to the lovely Miss Jane who looked truly spectacular in her stretchy yoga wear - she featured prominently in my personal gratification fantasies.
To her everlasting credit Aunt Rae never stopped giving me therapeutic massage at least once a week; as I look back on it thinking about all she and Mom did for me it brings a tear to my eye. They truly made me well, in fact I believe much better than well.
Shortly after my 18th birthday in the spring of my Senior High School year Grandma Ava died in her sleep, heart attack they said. About 6 weeks later Grandpa Lars had a small stroke resulting in a number of impairments; at 75 he was a bit older than Grandma. It was a strange time in our home, but Aunt Rae and Mom jumped right in and took turns taking care of Grandpa. Less than a month later we got the news that Dad would not be coming home to do the spring planting; he was clearing a late snow from a farm road when a log truck decided to pass and in the resulting accident he was crushed to death.
Mom was devastated, I was lost and confused. As I've grown older I've come to believe that there is no understanding, things happen, it sucks but life goes on no matter what. We were very fortunate, Dad was a very careful guy and he'd taken out special accident insurance policy, we would receive an insurance benefit of $ 300,000. It was no substitute for Dad but it paid all the farm bills, completely wiped out the entire farm mortgage, paid the inheritance taxes and gave Mom a few dollars in reserve. She would still have to get a job for some extra income but we would not starve or be in the street ... Dad was a very smart guy.
We never farmed again, Mom leased out the actual farm lands for a fair price, we still kept chickens and a few pigs for our table and Mom went up to Sioux Falls for a special 3 month course designed for Licensed Practical Nurses who had been out of the workplace. In Mom's case she'd been out of the workplace for 18 years, now she decided it would be good to go back to work.
I graduated from High School and it was decided that I should attend Dakota Community College for the first two years wiping out all the standard courses until I could decide on a major. It was close to home, only 18 miles away in DuPont and cheap, both were excellent reasons for the decision. Also it would allow me to get a part time job and save money for University later. I started in the fall; I was always a good student so I found it easy and started working part time as well.