Dale's Porno Blog

I love watching my wife masturbate. On occasion, she’s even invited me to do so, but not often enough for my tastes. What she doesn’t know is, I watch her far more often than that.

Nearly a year before Chris and I married, I had finally gotten around to building a new home. Residing in a fairly upper-class neighborhood, many of my friends and neighbors had installed elaborate security systems. Through one of those friends, I had contracted with an individual to establish a safe system within my new home as well. We’d been going over the details together when Andy mentioned he could place several cameras inside of the house if I wanted. I thought about that, but knew with Chris and I already engaged to be married, she wouldn’t be real happy about having a bunch of camera’s capable of watching her every move. When Andy assured me that he could install them in such a way that she’d never even know they were there, I went for it.

Having a small personal utility room just off the three-car garage, it was perfect for setting up all the equipment necessary to monitor our home and provide us with updated information whenever we needed it. Including of course, videotape in the event it was needed for review. Chris was fine with that of course, totally unaware that I had separate video’s running off every bank of cameras monitoring our home.

Shortly after we were married and back from our honeymoon, I was treated to my first voyeuristic surprise. I hadn’t married Chris just for her looks. She truly was a beautiful woman yes, and certainly very uninhibited sexually in most areas but one. Early on I had shared with her my desire to watch her play with her self for me. Which she did, but somewhat reluctantly. She had grown up in a strict environment, where masturbation wasn’t discussed, certainly frowned upon if ever being mentioned. Thankfully, she’d moved away, discovered herself as well as her sensuality, managing to overcome many of the hang-ups she’d carried with her for years. All except this one for some reason.

Chris had confessed to me during one of those exciting ‘pillow-talk’ evenings we often shared together, that though she had in fact masturbated as a young woman, it was always done secretly, with a constant fear of discovery and punishment for having done so. Because of that, I soon came to believe that it was one of the few inhibitions she still harbored, not able to fully overcome.

As I did every day, the simple touch of a remote control, rewound and programmed all the tapes to begin recording. Motion sensors within the system alerted me to which tape might need to be monitored in the event there was any movement at night. So far, there had been no reason to do so. Obviously, for the camera’s recording inside during the day, I knew they would be constantly monitoring movement, though the only two I had so far previewed had been those in our bedroom and bath.

I’d arrived home from work earlier than usual. As I’d known, Chris had gone out late that afternoon with one of her friends to do some shopping. I had gone into the security room as we now called it and double-checked the status of everything. Curious, I did a quick semi-fast forward play of the tape that had been monitoring the bath. When I saw Chris enter in preparation of taking a shower, I slowed the tape down to normal play, enjoying a mischievous smile as I realized I was about to watch my wife showering.

I’ll be the first to admit there’s something inherently wicked about watching someone doing something without their knowledge. The fact that it was my own wife didn’t change that for me either. I loved looking at her, especially when she was nude. The fact that I could do so without her knowing it, was icing on the cake.

As Chris walked into the bath, removing her robe, revealing her nudity, I sat back to watch and enjoy myself.

“Oh yeah baby. I really do love watching you,” I thought aloud.

The camera was perfectly concealed within the patterned textures of the ceiling. At the angle it was positioned, it gave me a total panoramic view of the bath and on into the room, with the exception of the toilet area, which even I felt wasn’t necessary or wanted for my purposes, thus giving some measure of privacy anyway.

I watched as Chris passed from view briefly traveling through the blind spot, reappearing long enough to reach in, turn on the shower, adjusting the water temperature. She disappeared momentarily walking back towards the counter where she stood in front of the mirror admiring and examining herself. Just seeing her doing that was incredibly erotic to me. It was a private, personal, intimate moment with herself, but she was nonetheless, sharing it with me.

“Damn Chris, you’re making me hot!” I said speaking directly at the tape.

Having watched my wife cup her medium sized, but very firm breasts, I was treated to seeing her examination of herself as she hefted each within her hands, testing the natural age of gravity that every woman eventually suffers through. Somewhat satisfied perhaps that age had not as yet caused them to sag more than what she was willing to accept, she smiled, turning off to one side to get an even better view as how they fell against her ribcage. I was a little surprised when she next tweaked each one of her nipples, causing them to harden as though testing them for response and sensitivity.

“God Chris, play with them baby…play with them!” I urged her.

She soon stopped doing so however, and I sadly saw her head back towards the shower. I naturally assumed of course that’s all she intended to do, bathe and make ready for the day. But since I was already aroused just watching what I had been, I decided to pleasure myself while simply watching my wife showering with no other expectations beyond that.

As she stepped into the shower, I expected to watch her do nothing more than wash herself up. I was slightly surprised however when she adjusted the shower massage to a more pulsating beat, then placed herself lying down in the tub rather than standing.

“What are you up too?” I wondered pleasantly surprised.

Comfortably positioning herself down inside the tub, I watched as she drew her legs towards her chest, spreading them. Placed as she was, she’d displayed herself, vulgarly, obscenely…and I loved it. As the water cascaded down towards her from the shower, it fell in a wildly undulating beat that began to playfully massage her sex. By the look on her face, and the expression in her eyes, I knew that it felt wonderfully good.

“Go baby go!” I yelled excitedly.

For nearly twenty minutes, I watched as Chris allowed the spray of the shower to make love to her. Periodically she adjusted her position, obviously varying the intensity, or perhaps the placement of the stream as it tickled her quim, caressing it in it’s own very unique way. As she drew closer to climax, I watched as she reached down, spreading her lips with her fingers even more widely a part than they had been. Had I been sitting here watching this live, I’d have zoomed in the camera upon her. As it was however, I had to make myself content with seeing what I was.

By now, I had released my prick from the confines of my pants, stroking it with the same desperate urgency that I saw my wife attempting to achieve. For the first time, I heard her moan, though it was difficult as the shower pretty much obscured the sound of anything else as she lay there.

“Ohhh. Ohhh. Ohhh.”

I knew by her pleasured sighs that orgasm was only moments away. Judging her reactions, as I was obviously aware having seen her climax before, that she was close now, very close. Only moments away now myself, I continued pleasing myself, anticipating that sudden quick bucking that would reveal to me her sweet ecstasy as her orgasm claimed her. Seconds later, she did that, leaning forward slightly humping the water cock that was assuaging her pussy, giving her pleasure, doing so for me simultaneously.

I had just finished straightening myself, filing away the tape when I heard the sound of the garage door opening. Chris was home. Making my way quickly inside the house, I greeted her a few minutes later when she walked in carrying several packages.

“Hi honey,” she said. “You’re home early!”

I gave her a kiss, reaching out to take one of the bags from her.

“Not that one, take this,” she said handing me what appeared to be a grocery bag. “This one’s for later,” she said suggestively, smiling.

Obviously, she was feeling frisky, as I was. “So…anything new and exciting today?” I asked her setting down the grocery bag on the kitchen counter.

“Not really, no. Why do you ask?”

“Just something,” I pressed. “You’re grinning like a Cheshire cat,” then, she did.

“Nosy!”

“Can’t help it. It’s in my nature,” I responded slyly.

Chris had all the fixings for a nice, little, romantic dinner. As we sat there together enjoying it, I asked. “So what did you and Darlene do today?”

I really liked Darlene. If there were anyone who was more outgoing, less inhibited than she was, I’d have to have met them. Having her as a good friend and companion was something I heartily approved of. And the best part, she was one of our next-door neighbors. Having gotten to know her and her husband Jack, we ended up spending a lot of time together whenever we could. The exact opposite of Chris, I had jokingly labeled the two of them “Salt and Pepper shakers”. Though both wore their hair relatively short, Chris was naturally blonde as well as fair skinned. Darlene was African American, with a deep rich coppery tone to her skin that stood out in stark contrast to my wife’s much fairer complexion.

“Nothing much…just some shopping,” she stated evasively. But I knew by the gleam in her eye that there was more to that than she was letting on. True enough, after dinner, Chris had asked me to give her a few minutes before coming upstairs to bed. Having already figured out what she was up to, I took the opportunity to ensure that the camera in the bedroom was properly recording before heading upstairs myself. As expected, she was waiting for me, standing in the doorway of the bathroom connecting our bedroom. She was dressed in a sheer, black-laced body stocking that accentuated every curve of her body while only allowing the barest of hints at what lay hidden beneath.

“Nice! Really, really nice!” I said as I stood there looking at her. “Remind me to tell Darlene thank you,” I quipped.

“You know, it’s really hard keeping any secrets from you, you know!”

“If you only knew,” I thought devilishly. “Well, it wasn’t really hard to figure out,” I told her. “Every time you and Darlene go shopping together, you usually browse the “naughty store” as I called it. “And most of the time, you bring back something sexy to wear for me.”

“Remind me to never tell you I’m going shopping with Darlene,” Chris shot back teasingly. “Now…you interested in making love to your wife? Or not?”

As we did, I privately smiled knowing that I would later on be able to watch my own personal instant replay of our session together.

#

On Tuesdays, we had a maintenance service come out and take care of the yard. In the past, when I’d just happened to be there, I had noticed Chris eyeing one of the young men who did much of the yard work alone. Tall, handsome, ruggedly good looking with a deep tan from days spent outside, I’d seen Chris ogling him without realizing I had seen her doing so. Just before leaving for work, I’d reset all the surveillance tapes, wondering as I did if with this young man’s arrival today, would provide me with any entertainment to look at later on that evening.

As I often did, I brought work home with me rather than staying late, finishing it at the office. Whenever I did so, Chris afforded me the privacy alone to complete it without interruption, knowing that the sooner I did, the sooner we could spend time together during the evening.

Having access from my study to preview the security tapes, I did so, wondering hopefully if there would be anything worth watching as I rewound the tapes. Sure enough, the outside camera’s recorded the yard services arrival, including that of the man whom Chris had had her eyes on. Based on the time of the tape and the location of the yard he was working in, I knew that the only place where she would be able to safely watch him without being noticed was from kitchen area. Accessing the cameras from that section of the house, locating the exact time, I started the tape, not too surprised when moments later, my wife entered the room peering out through the window into the back yard.

For several long moments she did nothing but stand there looking out the window. I’d begun to think it a wasted effort when I saw her suddenly slip her hand down inside the front of the shorts she was wearing. Chris had also chosen to wear one of many halter-tops that she enjoyed wearing around the house during the day. As I watched, she deftly undid the knot in front, holding the garment together, thus freeing her braless breasts.

“Now this is interesting,” I said smiling to myself as I watched.

Chris moved even closer towards the sink, obviously extending herself for a better view. Shucking herself out of her top entirely, she stood, caressing her breasts, thumbing the nipples of each, all the while continuing to slip her hand down inside the waistband of the bright yellow day shorts she was wearing.

Running both tapes simultaneously, I watched the young man outside gradually move around the far side of the house, obviously out of view from the kitchen area. When he did, I also saw Chris as she obviously headed down the hall towards the stairs leading up to the bedroom areas. From where he was now at, I knew that Chris would be much better able to see him from the “cozy-corner”, as we called it, which was the bay window over-looking the yard from our bedroom.

Hurriedly, I located the bedroom tape, fast forwarded to the time indicated on the outside surveillance, and wasn’t disappointed as Chris soon walked into the room. I was surprised when she didn’t immediately head towards the window however. Instead, she stopped by her dresser where she fumbled briefly in the top drawer where I knew she kept most of her bra’s and underwear. Seconds later she produced a blue, long slim vibrator, turning it on, she smiled as the toy came to life in her hand.

“Hot damn!” I again thought. I hadn’t known she even owned a vibrator. I’d certainly never seen her using one before. “Thanks again Darlene,” I said aloud this time, figuring that it had to have been at her suggestion that Chris purchase one in the first place.

I watched my wife quickly settle herself within the plush softness of the love seat that fit perfectly within the window. Gazing down into the yard from above, somewhat concealed behind the lace curtains, which hung there, Chris pulled them apart slightly looking down into the yard where he still worked. As she did, she slowly began to tease herself with the softly humming toy, which I was now able to hear very clearly as she sat very close to the place where the bedroom camera had been installed.

“I bet you’ve got a nice…long…thick cock!” she said suddenly. “And I’d bet you’d be surprised to find out I was sitting here, thinking about it, wondering what it would be like for you to fuck me,” she admitted to herself.

Though I was surprised to hear her actually admit this, I wasn’t jealous. I’d often fantasized about other women myself, including Darlene. Just seeing my wife sitting there, stroking the inside of her pussy with the blue toy that I didn’t even know she had, sent a rapturous flame of desire directly towards my groin. Feeling myself harden, I watched in delightful expectation as Chris continued masturbating, once again caressing her own breasts, sliding the happy little toy in and out of her pussy as she held it a part with her other hand.

“Oh Shawn, Shawn…fuck me. Fuck me with that magnificent cock baby!” she wailed hotly. “Fuck my pussy and pour that delicious hot cream into it.” Several moments later, it was obvious she was having a climax. I watched as my wife’s face twisted into a pleasured grimace as she sat there on the couch driving the blue toy deeply inside herself, holding it there as she buckled forward expectantly as she often did.

Now extremely aroused myself. I switched off the tape, straightened my desk, and went in search of my lovely, secretly horny little wife.

#

Several days passed of uneventful monitoring. The wait had been well worth it however when almost by accident, I stumbled upon the best thing I had witnessed yet. It was Saturday, the one day of the month when Chris and Darlene went to the spa for a full days pampering. Which included a facial, massage, as well as a pedicure. With them gone the better part of the day, I soon settled back to review the tapes, many of which I hadn’t as yet had time to really look at. As I fast-forwarded through many of them, I hesitated briefly at one when Chris answered the door, letting Darlene into the house. There was nothing significant about that however, but for some reason I decided to let the tape play while I sat there watching.

“Did you bring it with you?” Chris asked.

“Yes,” Darlene said giggling. “And you have no idea how difficult it was to get it either!” she responded conspiratorially.

I saw her reaching into her purse, producing a videotape a second later. “I had to remind Janette three times to lend it to me,” she stated.

I knew Janette was her very ‘lesbian’ half-sister.

“What did she say when you asked her about it?” Chris asked nervously.

“Oh nothing really. I told her it was for a woman friend of mine who was ‘curious’ about it is all. If anyone can understand that, she does. Where do you want to watch it?”

“Downstairs in the den,” Chris responded.

I quickly stopped the tape, pawing through several others until I’d found the one I was looking for. Inserting it into the player, I forwarded to the approximate time and hit play. Sure enough, there they were. I was just in time to watch Chris inserting the tape into the player before settling back onto the couch sitting next to Darlene.

“I can’t actually believe I let you talk me into watching this,” My wife said.

“Good old Darlene. I really should send her something for all the marvelous things she’s talked my wife into exploring,” I considered.

Perfectly positioned, I was able to see not only the women as they sat there on the couch together, but what they were also watching on the TV. It became clearly evident that Darlene had brought over some sort of X-rated movie. Now, it wasn’t all that odd that they were sitting there watching one. Chris and I had frequently watched several of them together, and if all she wanted to do was sit back and watch a dirty movie, we had plenty of them to choose from.

“No. There’s something a little different about this one,” I realized, and so began to focus my attention on what it was they were actually watching, more than in watching either one of them. Minutes later, I understood why.

Although it became apparent that what they were watching turned out to be a sexual threesome, which Chris and I had watched plenty of before, this one included a bi-sexual encounter between the two males while the woman involved, switched back and forth between the two men, while they in turn proceeded to enjoy one another just as equally.

“Isn’t this wild?” Darlene had asked her.

“God yes…I’ll say. And it’s making me horny!” Chris answered her unabashedly.

“Can you imagine another guy doing anything to Brad?” Darlene asked, questioning her about me.

I heard my wife giggle like a teenager. “Yes…one,” she said teasingly.

“Who?”

“You know that sexy guy I told you about who comes over to take care of the yard? Shawn?”

He made his way over the piles to check on the guy he saw get shot. He was gone, liquid shells shredded him. He watched the windows and door and crept forward. This guy couldn’t have been standing here shooting if there were others in the building. They would have shot him long before he could have opened the door and taken that first guy out. He eased through the door hoping he was right. He pressed his back against the wall and slunk along it to his left. Max heard a blast! From across the building a red ball flew in his direction. He dove to his left and raced down the wall. The ball hit and knocked him another twenty feet. There was a bathroom in the corner, he dove into it; he needed a bathroom just now. What the hell was that?! There was a door in the bathroom that led out into the yard. He hurried through it just as another blast went off. The bathroom exploded in flames. What the hell was that?! Max headed for the piles between the buildings. Someone had found some nasty weapon. Max tried to catch his breath but he was afraid he didn’t have time. He couldn’t quit asking the same question, what had the army come up with this time? He had never heard of anything that would do what he just witnessed. He just wished he wasn’t the target. He said goodbye to Gina in his mind and heart.

Max was on the wrong end of the buildings to get back into the first building quickly. He raced around it and made it back into the smaller building where he had first entered the arena. Why wasn’t that weapon repeating blasts quickly? A red ball hit the side of the building, the explosion knocked Max across the room; it dented the building! The whole wall was caved in! He expected the next one to melt the building completely. He left out the door on the opposite side. Why hadn’t this guy fired again? The next blast knocked the windows out and dented the opposite side of the building from the first blast.

Max decided this device had to charge or it took some time to reload or something. He worked his way around the buildings. He saw a guy rushing toward the building carrying…Max didn’t know what that was. He jerked his sniper’s rifle to his shoulder and took aim on the moving target. He led him and squeezed off a round. He lowered the rifle to see the guy go tumbling head over heels. He was still alive, Max let go with two Ultras when he got in range. Max’s adrenaline was running high. He didn’t quit firing until both guns were empty. Then a guy raced toward him firing from about thirty feet away. Plastic rounds pounded into Max’s vest, he raised his other two Ultras and let loose. The guy froze in his tracks surprised that Max had another gun. He tried to turn and go back the way he had come but Max took him out. Max studied himself for wounds. The shells had all impacted on his vest, no damage done. He grabbed this new weapon and headed back to his sniper’s nest. There couldn’t be too many people left now.

When he got back to the room under the hole in the wall he studied this new contraption. It was some sort of battery operated gun that fired some weird projectile. It was about four feet long and about eight inches in diameter. He studied the trigger mechanism, he thought he knew how to fire it. Max saw the results of its power, but he had no idea what it was. There was a ‘ready’ light blinking on the side. He found a switch and turned the thing off, he might need it later and he didn’t want to fry himself right now. It made a strange buzzing sound as it shut down. He noticed a ‘charging’ light beside the other light. He also found a delay dial. You could set a delay and have the thing go off up to two minute after you pulled the trigger. Max was wishing he had time to test this thing, there was no writing on it. He didn’t know how much battery it had left. He was pretty sure that it had to recharge between blasts. Where had this thing been? Were there others like it in here? Why had it taken so long to get it into action? Once again Max had more questions than he did answers. He took it and climbed back into the ceiling and looked out the hole. He didn’t see anyone following him. Someone was alive in here with him though! He prayed for the siren to sound.

Max woke early the next morning to see the barrier sitting just a few feet from the double open doors. He could see the red glow coming in through a few holes in the other end of the building. They were trapped in this one building, whoever they were. Max knew he was one of them, how many others he didn’t know. Every step could easily be his last. He sunk back down beneath the hole to plan his strategy. He only had part of a clip left, his rifle and this new gun, if you could call it a gun. First order of business was to find some more shells if he could. As the sun came up and illuminated the inside of the building he studied it to see if he had missed something earlier.

He noticed that on top of the office where he had found the tape there was now a blue container. Had it been there before? There was a ladder attached to the building beside the office, he could get up. He spotted another container sitting in the double doors. Now that one wasn’t there the day before. They must have re-supplied the place when they brought in the barriers. He could wait and try to pick off guys with his rifle or try to make it to more ammo. He sat back and thought things through. If he got to a point that he needed his Ultras he wanted them fully loaded and ready to go. He decided to try and make it to the containers. If he went down the stairs he would be the full length of the building away from the double doors. But if he went out the catwalk he could traverse the building on the roof and hopefully be out of sight of any shooters. He thought of one more trick. How long would it take him to get down the catwalk and the ladder on the other end of the building? He gave himself two minutes to be sure.

He taped this new gun to the metal structure of the ceiling in the room with the broken window. He aimed it roughly at the door leading to the stairs. He turned it on, the buzzing sound told him it was going, that and the fact that the ‘charging’ light began to flash. The ‘ready’ light came on in about five minutes. He turned the dial to two minutes and pulled the trigger. He was out the door and heading down the hall toward the catwalk. He was sure anyone inside could hear him running across the roof but that was something he would just have to deal with if trouble came up. He hurried down the ladder and dropped the last seven feet to the ground. The barrier was just behind him about eight feet away, not much room for error.

He eased to the double doors and waited for the fun to start. He didn’t have to wait long. When he heard the blast he raced to the container and dragged it outside on the opposite side of the doors. The inside of the building erupted into flames. He heard gunshots from at least two different sources. He hoped they were shooting at each other. He didn’t see anyone moving. The gunfire continued. He yanked the container around the corner and tossed the lid away, it hit the barrier and made a loud buzz and pop as it disintegrated. Whoever restocked them last night must have been reading Max’s mail. The container was full of ready clips. He popped the old clips out and slapped four new ones in. He stuffed his vest and pockets full of clips. He headed to the door down the side where he had first entered the building when this bout began. The wall around the door to the stairs was black and still smoking. The two others inside were busy shooting at each other, at least Max made out two, he hoped that’s all there were. He eased back up the stairs stopping halfway up and surveying the floor. He saw one guy huddled behind a stack of boxes just about where the woman and her killer had landed. He was firing in the general direction of the office. Then he saw the other guy move behind the crates where Max had made his first sniper kill. What should he do?

He returned to the taped gun and aimed it toward the crates. He looked out the window to the floor below. There was a chain hanging from the offshoot rail to the floor. The other man was just below him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He set the timer dial for thirty seconds and got ready. As he climbed out the window rounds strafed the building beside him. The man behind the crates had spotted him, thank goodness he wasn’t a very good shot. Why didn’t that damn gun go off. Its amazing how long thirty seconds is when you’re being fired at. The fireball shot out the window just as Max dropped onto the chain, he could feel the heat of the blast as it roared toward the crates. Once again, he didn’t have to be accurate, just close. He couldn’t wait to see the results or he would give the guy below him too much time to react. He slid down the chain Ultras blasting. He was firing two of them raining shells into the floor. Plastic rained back up toward him. He heard the guy at the crates screaming and the guy below him was rolling in the floor and firing back up at Max. Max’s thigh exploded in pain as the bullets hit. The floor beneath the guy turned red. There wasn’t much left of him when Max hit the floor. He took aim for the guy but he was barely breathing, the Ultra in his hand was firing air. His finger was locked on the trigger but he was out of shells. Max looked to the crates; they were ablaze. A burning figure was dragging itself out of the flames screaming. Max couldn’t take it. He limped to the guy and fired a bullet into the back of his head. Murder, execution or self-defense? Max studied his own wounds; plastic shards riddled his pants. His thigh was in bad shape. Max returned to the other guy. He was still breathing but there wasn’t much left of him. Max knelt down to his side and took his head in his hands. Max was covered in the guy’s blood up to his elbows but he couldn’t let him die without trying to comfort him in some small way.

“Good idea,” the man coughed, blood gurgled out of his mouth as he looked up at Max with dying eyes.

“Sorry man, its kill or be killed, but you got me good,” Max told him pressing his hand over his own wounds.

“Yeah…(cough, cough)…looks like you kill…and I’m killed,” he said closing his eyes. Max didn’t have the tears to cry. He pulled the guy’s head to his chest.

The siren sounded! Three tournaments down…

The barriers shut down and an ambulance was brought in through the double doors to load Max and take him to a nearby hospital for emergency treatment. He was loosing blood fast and getting drowsier by the minute. They rushed him into the OR and started in on him…

…Delores Atkins and a handful of reporters were guided through the warehouse complex where the last tournament in this area had taken place just two days ago. She couldn’t believe the destruction and blood stains all over the place. She hoped and prayed that Max had not been here. She asked the official guiding them the person’s name who had won. She was taking notes for her article.

“Um, let’s see?” he said looking at his notes. “A Max Fallon won.”

Gina’s heart stopped! But at least he had won which meant he was more than likely alive.

“Where is he, can we interview him?” Delores asked trying to act nonchalant.

“Sorry, no interviews allowed, not until someone finishes all five tournaments, then you get your interviews,” he told the group. “Besides Mr. Fallon has been relocated to a military facility unknown to us. He is quite a celebrity, he just won his third tournament. He’s only the second one to do that, no one has won four yet. From what I heard about this fight he may not fare too well in the next one,” he added.

What the hell did that mean! Fear gripped Gina’s heart. What had happened to Max, was he ok? Was he so messed up that he wouldn’t be able to fight in the next tournament effectively and be killed early in it? What?! Gina continued with the tour. She searched the place for some sign of Max. She knew he had been here and she longed to touch him again. She couldn’t find anything. She picked up a shell casing left at the scene and put it in her purse. She wrote her story that night with tears in her eyes. No winners were ever named in the publications but Tracy would have to edit Max’s name out of Gina’s story, she had to see it in writing. Touching him in her mind…

…Max woke up in pain. He screamed and a nurse came into the room to check him out, two guards escorting her. He had been so drugged he had been out for almost twenty-four hours. She gave him a shot and soon the medicine took effect and he was once more resting peacefully. He wouldn’t regain full consciousness for another day. When he did come too he looked out the window to see mountains. Mountains, he thought? There weren’t any mountains where he had been. He rang the buzzer for the nurse. An older woman came in with two guards at her elbows.

“Well, welcome back to the living,” she said, taking his wrist and checking his pulse.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“We’re not suppose to tell you anything but you aren’t in Kansas anymore,” she said, smiling at him.

“Was I ever in Kansas?” he asked confused.

“I don’t know where you were but you are here now and we have specific orders not to tell you anything. Are you hungry?” she asked, letting go of his wrist.

“Yes I am, starving,” he told her.

Max shifted in the bed; pain shot through his leg like fire. He grimaced and lifted the covers to look at his wounds. He was bandaged from the hip down to his knee. He had several other superficial bandages. He lay back and closed his eyes. The nurse and her escort returned with his meal and left him alone. He ate and tried to make sense of the last several days.

They had him up walking in two days. The doctors told him he wouldn’t be going anywhere for awhile. That suited him. He was never attended alone. The nurses had guards; the doctors had guards. No one entered his room without a guard. The guards had guards. Max felt like he was living in a glass bubble and in a way he was. He just hoped his bubble didn’t burst.

They started rehabbing his leg during his second week in the hospital; guards were with him there also. His therapist was a nice enough young lady, Liz Hill. Max tried to be friendly with her but she was all business. In his third week of rehab she was starting to warm up to him but she was still too serious to get much out of. Then one day she surprised the hell out of him. She intentionally caused him to stumble so she could grab him around the waist. She slipped something off of her clipboard and stuck it into the waistband of his pajamas and whispered “read this” and helped him back up. When he got back to his room he pulled a pamphlet and a letter out of his pjs.

The letter was an article talking about Max that some reporter had written. The by line read Delores Atkins. It was hailing Max as a growing hero on the world horizon even though it didn’t mention his name. Pro sports had become so deluded with wealth that no one paid a lot of attention anymore but these tournaments were all the rage. The whole world appeared to be watching. She went on to describe the televising of future tournaments. All the bugs had been worked out and the right palms greased to get it off the ground. Liz had scribbled something on the bottom. ‘You are bugged everywhere you go, everywhere. Flush these when you get through, please.’ Max looked around his room suspiciously; he didn’t doubt it a bit.

The pamphlet was on several new weapons the military was developing. Where had Liz gotten this stuff? He read on. It described a new ‘plasma’ rifle that fired bursts that exploded into flames on contact. Max had seen this one. It told about a smaller version that was just finished that would be easier to conceal, they didn’t do as much damage as the larger one but it would do enough. Max couldn’t wait to see this one. He read on about a new grenade launcher. One trigger would fire the grenades, exploding them into a ball of molten lead shrapnel on contact. The other trigger exploded the grenade inside the barrel and fired it out in pieces of one-inch hot lead shot. That should take out an army coming at you Max thought. He hoped he didn’t see this one. He read about the new Ultras and the liquid shells. It sounded like the pamphlet copied what he had told the authorities about them and it probably did.

When Max got to rehab the next day he thanked Liz and she went on like nothing had been done. She didn’t even acknowledge that he had spoken to her. No matter her motivation for helping him he was thankful. When he finished his normal exercises Liz told him he would be starting whirlpool treatment this morning. She led him to the whirlpool room and handed him a swimsuit and showed him the dressing room. He came back in a few minutes and climbed into the water. It was hot, especially on his wounded thigh but he eased down into it one inch at a time. Soon he was fully submerged letting the healing waters swirl around his aching leg. When Liz came to get him out she leaned over the metal tub to check his leg. She whispered quietly, “You’re welcome.” She wanted to be friendly but apparently orders had been handed down for everyone to keep quiet where Max was concerned. She took the chance now to say her peace with the water roaring, hopefully covering up any sounds they might make.

Then she really blew Max’s mind. She gave his penis a squeeze and whispered, “Capt. Reed says hello.” She winked at him quickly. Max almost jumped out to the tub at her touch. He asked her if Ali was here; she shook her head no and went about getting him out. She handed him a towel, she didn’t even try to smile. He could see the smile in her eyes now but she didn’t let on that anything had happened. About that time a doctor and two guards shot through the door.

“Hill!” He yelled.

“Yes sir!” She answered snapping to attention.

“You should have been out of here twenty minutes ago.” He went on.

“Yes sir, the scabs seemed to be releasing and I wanted to give them a couple of more minutes to soak sir.” She replied.

The doctor took a look at his leg and told her to carry on. He asked why she hadn’t brought guards in here with her. She told him she was acting out of habit and had never needed guards in here before and had forgotten the orders but it wouldn’t happen again. He left but the guards stayed. Everything she could say to Max had been said. She did inform him that she would be up to see him later in the day for another session of exercises. She left the room. The guards watched as Max returned to the dressing room and got dressed. They led him back to his room; lunch had just arrived.

True to her word, Hill showed up around three in the afternoon, a guard at each elbow. She took him through a series of leg lifts and knee bends without getting him up. The next three weeks were spent repeating this treatment, an hour each morning in therapy and an hour each afternoon in his room. There was never a chance for them to talk. Liz would wink from time to time and touch his leg more like a lover than a therapist but they never got the chance to be alone. She would brush her body against him sometimes. He loved it; he was getting back to his old self.

Max was coming to the end of his second month of rehab. He was feeling great and almost had full mobility of his leg. Liz knew he would be leaving soon. She didn’t see any chance of getting any friendlier with Max. She was getting bolder when touching him but tried hard to make it look like work related interaction. One of his last days she was in his room working on his thigh. She bent his knee up to his chest and slipped her left hand under the sheet and caressed his balls. He closed his eyes feigning pain for the guards’ benefit.