My Man, My Marine, My Lover! Pt. 04

"Yes Ma'am, Drill Sergeant Ma'am." He mocked a salute in my direction.

"Remember you said that Marine. Because over the next few weeks, every morning, I will be your D.I. and you WILL follow my orders. Understood Marine?" I smiled at him, but from the serious tone of my voice, he would never have known I was doing it.

"Yes Ma'am." He answered in full Marine voice. "As long as I can give the orders later in the day." He laughed.

"That will depend on how well you perform during the sun light hours Marine." Now, he heard the humor in my voice.

"Oh, like a reward system?" He actually licked his lips as he said it.

"No, more like a classical command and response theory. I command; you respond. Like Pavlov." I couldn't help but hear the laughter in my own voice as I said the words.

"Hmmm. I think I like the reward system idea, it sounds better and there is no dog or dog house involved in that one." His voice was almost childlike as he teased with me.

"I'm sure you would Marine, but it's not happening. Now let's get started. First I want to explain the concepts of the activities we will be doing today. With the cane techniques and activities, our goals are that there will be no tripping, falling, or physical collision with any items as you use the cane."

"Makes sense to me. I'd like to avoid all of those things too."

"Good. In order to do that Brian, you're going to need to use your cane more efficiently and effectively. Do you remember how they taught you to do a sweep with the cane to avoid those things?"

"Yes. I think so. I wasn't really listening and I really just wanted to get out of there. I probably should have paid more attention to what they were saying. I know they were all trying to help. At the time, I refused to believe I needed it. Now, I regret my decision and my stubbornness. Like you said, more than once I might add, I can be an ASS."

"Well, it's too late to beat yourself up about it now. Besides, before we left Walter Reed, I visited with all of your therapists and they gave me a few handouts and manuals that are full of instructions and helpful hints. Let's practice out here. To make it more interesting, we're going to add in some sensory cues for you to identify and follow."

"Not to be stupid or anything, but what's a sensory cue?"

"Well, your other senses will need to be more or less 'trained' to a heightened level. They will help to compensate for your blindness. This is called 'Sensory Development.' For example, you will need to use your other senses to figure things out and provide you with more information. Since visual input is about eighty percent of the sensory information sent to the brain, you have to make up some of that loss by using information from other senses. Like using your sense of smell to identify the direction of the kitchen, or what's cooking, or the location of a fire pit. Also, use the feeling of the warmth of the sun on your body to judge your position in relation to the sun or direction. Things like that."

"I guess that makes sense."

"One more thing I want you to do when working through the exercises and activities today. Every time a sense provides you with information, you should try to attach a mental picture to it. When a memory comes to mind, picture it and put as much detail into your mental picture as possible. Remember the colors of things, how they were shaped, where they were placed. Things like that. It will help to strengthen your Visual Memory and confirm the information to your brain from the other senses. It will also help, so you don't forget what things look like."

"Can you forget what things look like? Brat, where did you learn about all of this?" He was curious and wondered how his neuro psychologist had all of a sudden become an expert on blindness.

"Yes, you can forget. That's why these exercises are so important. I've done a little bit of research on each of them. I've talked to a few of the experts at PENN and then again at Walter Reed. If you're a good boy and do well, I may even write a case study on our little experiment." I tightened my grip on his hand for support.

He pulled me to him and grabbed me around the waist. Enclosing me in his arms and against his chest, he kissed me long and hard before he started to speak again. His voice was calm, but full of emotion.

"I know you Brat. I know you better than you think I do. I know when you say you've done a 'little bit of research' it means you've spent days, if not weeks, researching this. I also know that if you say that you met with a 'few of the experts' at both hospitals, it probably means you pestered the shit out of anyone who could have been of any help. So, don't try and play it down."

Before I could even give him a response, he was kissing me again. His arms were around me, his hands were moving up my back and over my ass and his lips and mouth were on a seek and find mission. It took a minute before I even remembered to take a breath. God, my Marine knew how to kiss. All thoughts left my head during that kiss. Finally, when he broke away from my mouth and I could regain my thoughts, I knew I had to redirect quickly before we ended up back in the cabin and most likely, back in bed. Not a bad option, just not part of the schedule for the morning.

"Brian, stop it." I smacked his ass playfully. "We don't have time for any play now. We have work to do and you promised you would pay attention and work hard."

"I did; didn't I?" He gave me a quick kiss and a pat on the ass. "Ok Brat, let's get the lessons started."

We worked hard that morning and almost every morning for the next several weeks. We would wake up, have breakfast together and then start in on his exercises. When he wasn't working with the cane on an obstacle course I'd set up, he was leading the way on a walk or hike to get the lay of the land and really test his cane skills. It was only a few weeks before it became second nature for him to use the cane outdoors.

After about the third or fourth week, his cane became an extension of his body. The man who originally hated the cane, now kept it at the door and never went out without it. It was amazing how fast and how well he adapted to using it. I knew he would learn quickly; it was his nature. If Brian put his mind to something, nothing would stop him from succeeding. Watching him outdoors, on his own again, was heart-warming. It was like watching him before he was blinded.

Indoors, he had such a strong mental picture of the cabin and the placement of everything, he didn't need to use or depend on his cane to get around. He never bumped into anything. One day, when I wasn't thinking, I moved the chair away from the desk and it was in the walking path of the bedroom.Without any cane, but just his senses, Brian knew it was in his way. He stopped, moved the chair back to where it belonged and then turned to look in my direction. I'd seen what happened in the reflection of the dresser mirror and was curious to see how he would handle it. He did very well.

I could see his confidence and independence coming back stronger week after week. He was standing tall again. He smiled more often than not. He initiated a lot of the activities we did when we weren't actively working on his rehabilitation. Our conversations were back to normal and life with Brian was starting to look familiar again. He was even back to teasing me as often as possible.Even when I almost sent him tumbling over a misplaced chair.

"Brat, are you trying to kill me?" It was all he said before coming over to me and giving me a kiss.

"No, I'm not trying to kill you. Let's say, I'm reinforcing "visual memory and sensory perception" with you and adding a new exercise into your daily sensory programs. I explained to you how the mind has a memory of how things looked and where they should be. I'm making sure that all stays fresh in your brain and doesn't get lost because you don't call on its use. Every day, we should spend an hour or so just reiterating visual recall." I tried to cover up my forgetfulness with the perfect deflection and excuse.

"That all sounds great babe, but I don't believe a word. I know you just don't want to admit you forgot to put the chair back where it belongs." He laughed.

"Ok, well there's that too. If you're going tonitpick about things; I guess that could be one explanation."

I loved working and playing with my man. Sometimes I would give him the name of an object and he would have to describe it to me in detail. We made a game of it after a while. I started to write down names of things and I would list ten or more characteristics about them. Brian would have to describe the object or item until he mentioned all of the items on my list. Of course, he decided a reward system should be incorporated with his achievements. So, as I made the items and characteristics harder for him, he upped the ante on his rewards.

We had been at the cabin for just over two months. It was like old times between us and everything was going really well.One night, we were lying in bed and I was giving him objects for visual recall. I said, "Ok baby, I have a hard one for you. I have twenty items on my list for this object, if you get all twenty, I'll give you the reward of your choice."

He laughed at me. "Any reward I want is mine. Is that the deal?"

I could hear in his voice that I may have just made a deal with the devil or at least the little devil in my man. I knew before I even finished my offer that I may have just made a huge error in judgment, but it was too late to withdraw, but I tried anyway.

"Within reason of course," I added.

"Nope," he said, "too late to change the negotiations. A deal's a deal. You said the reward of my choice for all twenty items on your list. Shoot. What's the item? And Brat, don't even think of trying to cheat me or welching on our deal."

"Would I do that?" I tried to sound innocent, but I don't think I pulled it off very well.

"Yes, I think you would if you thought I wouldn't find out and you wouldn't get caught." He pulled me into his arms and held me close to him.

"Ok, the thought may have run through my head, but I would never really cheat you."

"I'm sure you wouldn't." He almost sounding convincing if he didn't laugh after he said it. "Come on, what's the item?"

"Your jeep," I said almost regretfully.

"Baby, you are so screwed. There isn't anything on that jeep that I don't know by heart. I'll get all twenty and then some. You my dear are mine and I plan on using my reward to my advantage." He laughed at me this time.

"Ok Marine, stop cocking off and start listing the items."

"I so know you babe, first item listed is the radio; second is the antenna." He sounded so cocky as he said it. "Am I right so far?" He was still laughing.

"Shut up and list all twenty." I hit him in the ribs.

"Come on Brat, be a sport. Were the first two items the radio and the antenna?"

"Yes. Now don't be an ass and keep going and don't forget you're supposed to be making a mental picture of everything in your head so you can recall what it looks like."

"Babe, I'm definitely forming a mental picture in my head, but it may not have much to do with my jeep."

To my dismay, he listed about thirty items before he had my list of twenty complete. I couldn't believe it. I thought for sure he would have missed at least a few of them. He even listed the tear in the back seat from a friends pocket knife that punctured the upholstery.

"Did I win yet or do you want me to keep going until you decide to tell me I have all the items on your list?" He pulled me closer and kissed the top of my head. "Don't be a sore loser; tell me I won already will you?"

"God I hate it when you get so cocky." I teased him.

"Baby, you're lying and you know it. I know for a fact that you love when I get cocky. In fact, it's one of the things you love about me most."

"Oh please Brian, get a grip on that ego of yours."

I pushed at him, but he grabbed me and started to tickle me. I couldn't stand it after a while and started to scream between my fits of laughter. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as he continued to tease and tickle me.

"Tell me I'm the winner and I'll let you go."

"Ok, you're the winner." I cried out between tears, laughter, and sobs. "Brian, let me go before I pee myself. I have to go to the bathroom." I was practically ready to wet myself before he finally stopped tickling me.

I jumped out of the bed and walked into the bathroom with a full bladder and the intent to pee as soon as possible. I no sooner sat down than Brian walked in and stood a few feet in front of me. My first thought was that he must not have realized that I really needed to pee.

"Brian, I'm in here."

"Yeah, I know." I saw a smile cross his entire face.

"Well..."

"Well...What?" He laughed.

"Brian, I can't pee while you're in here."

I was getting annoyed because I had to pee so badly and now I couldn't. I never could go to the bathroom when someone else was in the room. Even when I went out to clubs or restaurants, I would wait until the bathroom was empty before being able to go. I know it sounds weird, but that's the way it is for me.

"Why?" Was all he said.

"Brian, I'm not explaining things to you. I just can't. Now get out; I have to pee."

I knew he could hear the frustration in my voice. I could hear the frustration in my voice. I could hear the desperate need to relieve the pressure in my bladder in my voice. I felt the little muscle spasms starting that occur when you have a distended bladder.

"I don't understand. Why can't you pee with me in here? Do you have pee anxiety?"

He walked closer to me as he asked his inane questions. He was standing right in front of me and I was tempted to reach out and hit him where it hurts if he didn't get out and leave me alone so I could go to the bathroom before I ruptured something.

"What the hell is 'pee anxiety'?" I asked more annoyed than curious, but still curious.

I knew the moment I asked, I was an idiot for falling into conversation with him. All I wanted to do was to go to the bathroom and pee. ALONE!

"It's like performance anxiety, only with pee. You can't perform or in this case, you can't pee because you're nervous in front of an audience."

I was just thinking that what he said made sense, but I also realized that I didn't care what it was. I just wanted to pee. As these thoughts were running through my head, I noticed Brian was starting to kneel in front of me.

"Marine, just what do you think you're doing?"

I had no clue what he was up to, but it appeared to me that he was up to no good. I couldn't see anything good coming out of his being on his knees in front of me while I was seated on the toilet and dying to relieve my bladder of its contents.

"I'm going to help you." He looked all innocent with those big brown puppy dog eyes looking at me.

"Help me what exactly?" I said half annoyed, half not believing what I was hearing and seeing.

"Help you get over your 'pee anxiety'."

As he said this, he placed his hands on the insides of my knees and started to slowly slide them up the insides of my thighs. When he reached the top, he started to knead the soft flesh of my inner thighs between his fingers and thumbs.

"Brian, stop that!" I thought he was a little nuts.

"Relax baby. I'm here to help." His voice was getting all soft and he was facingdown, as if looking at his hands, and smiled like the Cheshire cat.

"Well, I don't know what you can do to help other than get out and let me go pee. ALONE!" I repeated.

"I know exactly what I can do to help." God, his voice was getting all sexy.

His smile grew as his right hand started to make a directional change and made its way to my sex. He started to trace his fingers along the fatty folds of my lips as he kneeled in front of me.

I gasped, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Relax baby. I just want to help you." His voice changed even more.

I recognized that change, that sudden deep, quiet whispery voice. I knew his "sexy" voice when it was used. All of a sudden he became a little quieter, a little softer, almost as if he didn't want anyone else to hear him. As if he was talking to himself. It was a smooth silky sound with a little guttural tone to it.

"Brian..." I didn't get to complete my thought.

"Shuuussshh." He was quiet and he had that calculating predator look in his eyes. I imagined this was the look he learned in sniper training. The look that said he was concentrating on his target. The look that kept him focused on only one thing. It was a look that showed no hesitancy, no question, only determination.

I couldn't argue with that look or with Brian. His fingers had started to take their toll on me. I could feel, in spite of myself, my body reacting to him. Watching him kneeling in front of me, feeling his hand on the inside of my thigh, and the other stroking my sex while I was still unable to pee was rather erotic.Erotic and somewhat torturous to my bladder.

"Brian." It was something between a whisper and a moan as his name exited my lips.

It was that very second that he knew he had me. I saw a little twinkle in his eye. It was a hint of self-satisfaction that he had won the battle, but still was intensely planning the war. I knew this man, as well as, if not better than he knew me.

I personally, would say better than. However, in the long run, does it really matter, who reads whom better, if both people are happy? The answer is no, but I still like to think it's me reading him better. I'm just a little wiser with experience now and know not to say it out loud any more. It's enough that I know it; I don't have to flaunt it, at least most of the time.

My breathing picked up some as he continued to slide his fingers along my sex. He took that as a sign to ramp things up a bit and he moved his hand from inside my thigh to my hip and then slid it back over my ass cheek. Goose bumps covered my body as his fingers started to lightly trace the very top of the crease to my ass. In response, I found myself leaning forward slightly.

This movement was seen as a notice to advance in Brian's mind. So he did. He started to use a third finger to massage along my slit. In seconds, he was gliding his middle finger along the inside of my folds. I was excited and wet and it didn't matter to me anymore if I peed. Somehow, it became a secondary need.

Without conscious thought, I reached up and started to stroke Brian's face. I was tracing his lips when he nipped at the tip of my finger and sucked it into his mouth. Circling it with his tongue sent all sorts of naughty thoughts through my brain.

"Kiss me." He said as he tilted his head up. I made my own advance strike and took his mouth a little harshly. I explored his mouth with my tongue and was rewarded with a groan from deep within him. I was also rewarded by his hand leaving my ass and taking up a new tactical strike on my breast.

In the middle of our kiss, Brian had managed to pull my sleep shirt up and lift my breast out of the cup of my bra. He held it in the palm of his hand and traced his thumb across my nipple. I could feel the warm heat start to spread through my body. His fingers in my sex were causing all sorts of nerves to fire. My stomach was doing somersaults. My lips and tongue were on a mission of their own and now my breasts were called into action. My mind couldn't focus on all of the stimulation individually, so it all seemed to melt into one tidal wave of heat and excitement as it rolled through my body.

Brian broke from the kiss slowly. He started to kiss at my breast. He licked over the soft tissue and took as much of it as he could into his mouth. He licked and sucked as if it were his last supper. Knowing just how to push me over the edge, he started to suckle my nipple hard between his lips and whip his tongue across it simultaneously.