Crucifix: Longing Ch. 04

Here's chapter 4...thanks for being so patient! A new school year started and the 'teacher' side of me had to do all that silly 'school' stuff! I hope you enjoy reading about the intensifying relationship between William and Erin. Enjoy.

*

Chapter 4. Hot Showers, Tensions Rise, Inhibitions Fall

William woke the next morning with a knot in his neck. "Damn it." He'd slept deeply; yet, it was not a peaceful sleep. It was like he closed his eyes at one o'clock that morning and instantly woke up to find that it was seven forty three. He tried to stretch out the muscle only to be met with a sharp pain that traveled down his neck and into his shoulder. "Fucking great, absofuckinglutely great."

{Take a shower. It'll help.} As a physical therapist, he knew it was his best option, so he made his way to the bathroom with his eyes barely opened. He turned on the shower and waited for it to get hot before he even considered stepping in. {All I need now is a cramp.} When he was satisfied that it was just the right temperature, William carefully stepped in, making sure to look and see that both his feet, the real one and the odd, arch-shaped three-toed titanium one, were planted carefully on the slip-proof mat.

Ah, showers. If there was any one thing that William refused to give up because of his 'handicap', it was his showers. He didn't care if he had to crawl in on his hands and knees, by God; he was going to take a shower when he wanted one! Every damn morning and again at night if he felt like it!

It wasn't like he was a neat-freak or something. It was simply that showers were something William had loved since he was thirteen, no make that twelve. That's when Samantha Hamm moved down the street from him. Hammy Sammy was 'stacked, packed, and ready to roll' as he and his buddies would say. They called her 'hammy' not because she was fat...but rather because they all wanted to eat her like one would dine on a succulent rack of baby-back ribs.

William remembered what it was like back then and how he would just stand there with his eyes closed and hold himself as he thought about Samantha. Oh and he would never forget the myriad of times he spent thinking of Carrie Miller in the shower. And then the Dotson twins. He often laughed when he wondered how many possible babies he watched go down the drain before he even turned fifteen.

As steam started to rise up from the shower, William remembered how he would spend close to an hour in the shower each morning, except on Sundays. That was just too weird for him. No, he just couldn't walk downstairs and sit at the breakfast table with his mother across from him and try to act like he was being a good, pious Catholic boy. Who knows, maybe his mom was on to him. After all, she never disturbed his showers. Not once. Not even if he had that water running for forty-five minutes.

And dear God, when they sat in mass and Father Timothy or Father Michael would talk about sins of the flesh, William could practically feel his mother's eyes boring into him. Yes, the more he thought about it the more he knew that she had to be on to him.

William let the hot water cascade down over his body as he reminisced some more. He remembered how he would watch the fallout from his sins of carnal desire swirl down the drain when he was done. After which, he would walk away feeling satisfied that he'd gotten away with something that he'd been told over and over again was bad...unless, of course, you were married and did it with the sole intention of creating a life. Extending the family.

Family. Oh, how William cherished his. Especially after his parents were killed. Because aside from a few far off 'relations' and his Aunt Doriah, he really only had Claudia to help him cling to what remained of his parents.

Claudia. He honestly adored her because she always stuck up for him when no one else would. When he was nine, she even threatened to beat up Tucker Winslow for pushing him down one day. And she could throw a mean fastball, too. She was kind, friendly and caring. He looked up to his big sister. He admired her.

But William didn't really see her as a sexual object when he was younger. Especially since he was pretty sure Claudia never saw herself as 'attractive' or 'womanly' or 'desirable'. In fact, she was rather shy and nervous around any man she encountered, save their relatives. Even then, she was reserved. And then, something changed. Something made his 'admiration' for her turn to 'affection' and that 'affection' turned to a dark, secret desire to have her.

A desire that he knew was wrong. A desire that he knew would mortify Claudia almost as much as it frightened him to feel it. For the majority of their lives, whether it was at school or at home, the idea of 'sex' in any shape, form or fashion was viewed as something to stay away from because it could lead to sin and sin led to Hell. And God forbid any incestuous thoughts...they were a one way ticket to sit by Satan himself.

But be that as it may, William couldn't help how he felt. He often thought about exactly 'how' and 'when' everything changed. It all started the summer when he turned fifteen. He was at St. Joseph's and Claudia had been away at Holy Cross all year. Their parents went to see her quite often, but William didn't want to 'waste his weekends'. And then she went with her class to Italy in December for 'Christmas in Vatican City'. At Easter, she went to Guatemala with that same class on a mission. And the one week she was at home, he was with his friend's family in Colorado...skiing. William missed Claudia, his buddy...his protector...his friend, so much and regretted that trip as soon as it was over.

When she came home that June, he was floored at how stunning his almost seventeen year old sister had become over that long year. Oh, she'd always been attractive. His friends all thought she was good looking and wanted to date her. Or more honestly, do her. At first it used to piss him off. But after she came home that summer and his buddies would say 'Jesus Christ, Fitzpatrick, how can you stand it? Your sister is so fucking hot', he didn't really know what to say. He knew he should have felt angry or mad...anything other than aroused...about their comments, but he couldn't.

Yes, that summer there was something altogether different about Claudia. William remembered getting wound up when she'd come down for breakfast in her night shirt and slippers. He smiled to himself at the realization that it was that particular summer when the really intense showers began. The ones where he had to bite down on a washrag to keep from screaming out in ecstasy as he came to the thought of his sister.

And then he would just stand there in the shower and pray that the water would wash away the shame he felt. But it never did, no matter how much he prayed. And going to confession wasn't an option. All the priests knew his voice. He wouldn't be able to look them in the face. No. Going to confession was definitely not an option in William's eyes.

But that was all so long ago. He'd not felt that way in at least nine years...before the accident. He remembered feeling wholly different about Claudia when she tended to him as though he was someone in need. He felt weak and useless. And that 'weakness' left him with a sense of self-loathing and shame more fierce than any of the wild, taboo dreams he'd had about her or the multitude of times he'd jacked off just looking at her picture.

However, once he decided to 'chill' and just 'let life happen' he thought he had moved beyond it all. Beyond the shame about the incestuous feelings he had for Claudia. Beyond the shame of looking or being 'inadequate' in front of her. And beyond the shame of feeling inadequate in his own mind. That is, until that night with Vicki and her damn 'midnight ride'.

But, William thought he had worked through that, too. {It was a fluke. It didn't 'mean' anything, William. Let it go.} He said that to himself over and over for nearly a week, like some mantra, to try and put it out of his mind.

Then last night happened. And now, as he stood there in that shower, all the confusion that had filled him before was back. {What the fuck was that all about Will? You're going off the deep end...HA! That's it. Temporary insanity! Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?} He watched the water roll over his skin.

It was so hot. Scaldingly hot. He knew he would probably walk away from the shower with angry red streaks on his flesh. But he didn't care. He just wanted to get the images from last night out of his head. But dear God, try as he might, he couldn't.

William tried to think of nothing but Vicki. He tried to see only her face before him as he closed his eyes. But he couldn't. Because no matter how hard he tried, he could still see Claudia standing in the background. And it felt good knowing she was there. But it also frightened him to have those feelings again. So he tried doubly hard to rid his mind of her image. And then, just when the likeness of Claudia faded, he saw Erin and those beautiful golden eyes of hers.

They were haunting eyes. Sad eyes. Eyes that he could get lost in.

He leaned against the cool tile walls and tried to resist the urge to hold himself as he worked to sort out what had happened in his vivid dream. But he couldn't fight it long. His unchaste desire to find a release through self-gratification overtook the rational part of his psyche. The rising shame-filled tension smoldered within him until it came to a point where he couldn't stop himself.

William kept his eyes closed as he took hold of himself. He could see them, all three of them, standing there before him in his mind's eye. They looked up at him with the lustful eyes of lionesses awaiting the arrival of the lion. Likewise, he wanted them. All of them.

He wanted Vicki because he had already tasted her and knew her to be succulent and filling. He wanted Claudia because he'd lived for so long with the black shame of his forbidden desire and wanted to know if she was worth the guilt he felt. And last, he wanted Erin because she was, without a doubt, the closest mirror of his own tortured soul he'd ever encountered.

He knew how she felt. He knew Erin yearned to be like she was; like she used to be. To dance with not a care in the world, just as he wanted to run with the sun on his face and the wind at his back.

With every sultry, lewd image that darted across his mind, William came closer to the edge that beckoned to him. It screamed, 'Jump Will, jump. Fall into the abyss. Do it.' So, he did. He felt his eyes roll to the back of his head as his cock filled with the creamy ejaculate that so desperately yearned to be freed. He wanted to scream with it. Needed to scream. And he didn't care if the neighbors in the next condo heard him.

As he fell over the edge into a blissful orgasm, William let go of all of his stress and tension allowing his voice to echo the intense feeling that leapt up from deep within him. It felt so go to let it all out, both figuratively and literally. When he finished, it was almost like he could start the day anew. The peace he'd sought in the night, while not exactly the way he'd had hoped it would, finally came to him there in that shower, and damn if he wasn't exhausted.

William rested against the wall and felt the chill of the tiles on his back. The cold porcelain on his flesh and the hot water that beat down on his chest created a feeling of tranquility within him. William let himself relax and as a result, all he wanted to do was go to sleep.

He stepped out of the shower, quickly toweled off and considered getting dressed. Though 'considered' might be too powerful a word. Rather, the thought crossed his mind, is more like it. A quick look at the clock told him it was fine to crawl back under the covers and go to sleep for an hour or two. And that is exactly what he did.

....................

******

....................Erin woke to the sound of the lawn mower just outside the living room. She hated waking up. It only reminded her of how useless she was. She just wanted to back to her house, crawl into her bed and sleep...forever. But it would be a long time before she went back to her house...or rather the house James had welcomed her to share with him. The house that had been her home, for that is where her heart truly was, before the accident.

And James, God bless him, made his devotion for Erin readily known when he named her as the beneficiary of his life insurance policy shortly after she accepted his marriage proposal and saw to it that if anything happened to him, the house would be hers. Lord, was his ex-wife mad, too. She even tried to get a judge to make him sell the house and split the proceeds with her. But Judge Morris saw through her money grubbing actions and denied her request.

James told Erin never to worry, that he would always take care of her. God, he was a good man. Erin smiled every time she thought about it and about him. She missed 'their' house so badly. But she knew she'd go back, one day. Of that, Erin was one hundred percent certain. She missed her bed, her TV, her couch, her...everything.

But most of all, she missed James. She missed seeing him lying next to her in the morning when she woke up. And she missed seeing him trying, often in vain, to read a bit of his book at night. Erin had devilish habit for causing James to miss out on reading because of her playful nature.

As she lay there in the living room, feeling how sore her abdominal muscles were from the previous day's leg workout, she thought about how she would often times roll over and wake James with little kisses along his slumbering cock. She loved how the corners of his mouth would draw up into a peaceful grin as she slid her tongue up and down him. She loved feeling him respond to the hot wetness of her mouth.

Many were the mornings that James would find his young bride-to-be nestled snuggly between his legs, partaking of him. And did he ever love it. She was so good with that mouth of hers. It was as though all the grace and fluidity she radiated when she danced made its way to her mouth, affording her the same ease and command of her tongue that she had with her body.

And if there was any one thing Erin loved it was to see, it was how happy James would get when she pleasured him. Erin quickly learned when to ease up or speed up. She loved taking him to the edge and pulling him back...over and over again, until he couldn't stop himself from falling.

Erin loved it when he lost control. She savored not only the essence of his physical offering to her, but also the deep emotional connection that grew stronger each time he spilled into her. And there were those times when James would beg her to stop so that he could slip into her, to connect in the most intimate of ways.

He would pull her up to face him and whisper in her ear, "Please Erin, I need to be in you. Please." His voice melted her heart. She never turned him down. James would gently roll her over and find his way inside her. They moved in tandem, the two of them. Erin would close her eyes and let his love wash over her.

He moved slow and rhythmically. He moved with purpose. He moved with love. And when he came within her, he shared himself in such a way that Erin wished his seed would take root...but it never did. She often chided, 'birth control be damned.' Now there was nothing left of him, save the memory of him.

It tore at her soul when she thought of it because James was the one thing she coveted beyond all things, even her dancing. Because, in actuality, it was only when he'd come into her life that she'd been able to tap into the emotion she needed to really dance. But in the back of her mind, Erin knew that to covet was a sin, a deadly sin. And it filled her with sorrow to think that it was her greedy wantonness which had led to James being ripped away from her and the world.

Erin threw the blanket over her head and tried to blot out the notion of her being the cause for all her heartache. {Jesus, Erin, it wasn't your fault. It was Randy's. Randy's. Not your fault.} But it was a lie. She knew that she was just as much responsible as Randy was for the accident. She closed her eyes and felt hot tears slipping from her eyes.

She eventually stopped crying and sighed deeply. Erin stared up at the ceiling fan as it went around and around. The sound of the lawnmower droning on in the background slowly lulled her back to sleep. Sleeping was such a wonderful thing. When Erin slept, she would dream. And when she would dream, she could dance. And when she could dance, she felt that James was nearby.

Erin felt someone jostling her shoulder, "Come on girl. Time to get up." Merle Durant and his chipper, 'Isn't it a beautiful day the Lord made' attitude shook his daughter's shoulder again. "Erin, you've got to get up, baby. We'll be late."

Erin shook her head. "Daddy, please, it's only ten o'clock. We don't have to be there until noon. Let me go back to sleep."

"Erin," Merle crossed his arms, "Get up. Now, Erin. I thought we could leave early. Maybe get a late breakfast or early lunch. But I'm not going to put up with this sorry attitude of yours like your Mama does. Get up now, young lady."

"Dad, I'm not fourteen." Erin threw the pillow over her face.

"Then act like it. Here, your mother got these out of the dryer for you. Get dressed." He tossed the clothes on top of the pillow and left the room.

Erin sat up and stared at them. {Jesus Christ. I can't believe my mommy is picking out my clothes for me.} She pulled her top off and slid her father's University of Michigan sweat shirt over her head. And with a little doing she was able to shimmy into her shorts, by herself. Something she'd mastered nearly two weeks earlier. She stared at the beveled mirror across from her. {Where did 'she' go? Where did that girl I used to be, go?}

With that she looked down at her feet and tried to imagine satiny pink pointes back on them. But it was too painful for her to even try and think of it. {Fuck! I hate this.}

Merle returned to the room to help his daughter into her wheelchair. "I got it Dad." She jerked away from his helpful arms.

With a long sigh, Merle calmly said, "See, you're getting along much more independently now. You know, I'll bet you'll be up and around in no time Erin."

{Fucking optimist} "Yeah, right Dad." Optimism was something that had been in short supply for Erin recently. Although, last night as she lay in bed thinking about how tired she was because she'd done something with her leg, she had felt a tad bit of hope. But 'hope' wasn't good enough...not yet.

As her father drove to the Grayson Center, Erin leaned her head against the tinted window and tried to focus on something...anything other than the fact that she was probably never going to walk. Something pleasant and inviting. Something calm, warm, and welcoming. And then, out of nowhere, the image of William Fitzpatrick popped into her head. {What the fuck? Damn, Erin, are you crazy? Goddamn him and the 'Grayson Center.'} She looked out over the lake they were crossing and tried to push his image out of her head.

But she couldn't do it. Something about him had touched her. He was kind and gentle, but demanded that she work. And his hands. When they made their way up her thighs and got close to her, she felt a rush of electricity all through out her body.

But the one thing that stuck out the most in her mind was his blue/green eyes. God, those eyes. They reminded her of the inviting waters of the Caribbean. But there was something more. Erin could feel her face grow flush from thinking about him and it frightened her. {Stop it, Erin.} However, for the next ten minutes all Erin could think of was William, his voice, his hands, and his eyes.