Chapter 13: The View
Back at the rehab center, Helmut and Kevin brought Ben up to speed on this new development. It was just the thing to take Ben outside of himself and lift his spirits. Watching Ben and Kevin put their heads together to try to plan the perfect date, Helmut and I decided to head out for a few minutes to spend a little time getting me settled in the cabin. I don't even think they noticed when we left.
“I'm meeting with my new counselor at 4:00,” I told Helmut as we walked the short distance to the cottage. “So we only have about an hour.” The supplies I had dropped off earlier were piled just inside the door, and we decided to focus on the essentials. I got out the sheets and began making the bed, while Helmut unpacked the clothes.
“Remind me to lend you some of my leathers,” he joked as he hung my pants in the closet. “Way too much khaki and not enough...fun.”
“And just what's wrong with khaki?” I asked, matching his playful attitude.
“Nothing if you're going to spend all your time at a stuffy old museum. But if you're going to start hanging out at Mike's...well...”
“What does it matter what I wear?” I chided. “It's not like I'm trying to impress anyone.”
“Obviously!” He continued with the shirts, then added, “Denim. How about some more denim? I mean, you only have one pair of jeans? How does anybody have just one pair of jeans?”
“It's called being a professional.”
“It's called being boring,” he countered. “And we need to get you a jock strap. Not a one in sight.”
“I'm not an athlete, why would I need a...Wait, are you going through my underwear?”
“Nope,” he said a little too abruptly. “Just unpacking the bag you gave me, and trying to figure out...Is that a butt plug I spy?”
“Just leave...Let me take care of that. Why don't you go do something in the kitchen.”
“Nah, this is way more fun than unpacking condiments. Is there a stash of porn in here somewhere?”
He continued to torture me as we set up what we could in the limited time we had, and it was just what I needed. When we called it quits, he headed back over to the rehab center while I walked the quarter mile towards town to the counselor's office.
The first visit was unremarkable. The counselor's name was Tim. He seemed to be slightly younger than me, a bit taller, and quite good looking. I did my best to keep things on a professional level, but with Ben being inaccessible for the last few weeks, I had to admit that I was noticing attractive men more than usual lately. Not only that, I found that as we chatted, all I could think of was his dick. I wondered what it looked like, how big it was, was it cut or uncut? I found myself considering how his underwear might be interacting with it. Was it cradled in a pouch, hanging down one leg in some boxers, or best of all, perhaps unfettered, with only one thin layer of fabric between me and it? He seemed to sense my distraction somehow, and fidgeted in his seat, first crossing his legs one way, then another, before he finally settled on holding a large pad of paper on his lap in the pretext of taking notes. Was he actually getting a boner?
Since this was my first real therapy session, I wasn't quite sure what to expect, and as it turned out we mostly just got acquainted. He wanted me to fill him in on which aspects of the current situation I found most challenging, but he didn't press that. Instead he focused on just getting a feel for who I was, my history with Ben, and what goals I had for our sessions. We set out a plan to meet weekly for a while, and chose a time slot that worked for both of us.
“I suppose it's a start,” I said to myself as I walked back toward the rehab center, feeling a bit let down that there wasn't some instant revelation or insight that could make things better. “Just give it time,” I thought, trying to see some progress but feeling none. “These things take time.”
As I drew closer, I looked up and took in the structure of the center. The central block was five stories tall and surrounded by smaller one and two story wings on all sides. The main entrance was in the back, facing away from the sea, and the whole thing sat on a large outcropping of bedrock that rose a good fifteen to twenty feet above the road below, making the building look even taller than it was. I had not paid much attention to the layout before, and was surprised to see people on the roof of one of the lower wings. Suddenly one of them began jumping up and down and waving his arms around. I realized it was Helmut and he was trying to get my attention. I waved back, pulled out my cell phone, and called him.
“Glad I caught you,” he said as way of a greeting. “Don't go up to the room, they have Ben down at the dining room on the second floor. We're out on the patio.”
“I'll be right up.”
When I found them, they were seated at one of the tables. Ben was ensconced in a wheelchair, picking at his dinner. “Well, I suppose it's better than the gruel they fed me at the hospital, but still...” He wrinkled his nose as he reluctantly took a bite. “I'm in no danger of getting fat here,” he chuckled after forcing himself to swallow.
“And if I keep eating burgers at Mike's,” I countered, “I'll get fat enough for both of us.”
He looked at me with longing in his eyes. “Burgers...mmm...What I wouldn't give...”
“I don't think it would take much,” Helmut leaned in and whispered just a little too loud in his ear. “Offer him a blow job and he'd probably bring you anything you wanted.”
I expected Ben to act shocked at such a proposal, but instead he looked me up and down, and leaning back towards Helmut he answered, “You think?”
“You two are awful!” I looked around to see if anyone else was in earshot, but most of the residents were inside behind the wall of windows that enclosed the year round dining room. Only a few had ventured out to enjoy the late afternoon sun, and none of them were actually eating. A small group of elderly women were seated together, lost in their own conversation, and a lone white haired man, who was also seated in a wheelchair was at the far end of the patio looking out at the ocean.
“I never realized there was a patio up here,” I mused. “I thought it was just a roof. You can't see it from the ground.”
“No, but you can see the cottage from here,” Helmut observed.
“Really? Show me.”
He led me over to the part of the balcony where the older man was, and asked, “Mind if we join you for a minute?”
The man didn't respond. He didn't even look at us. I wondered if he might be deaf, but when we moved into his field of view he still ignored us. “We'll be out of your way in just a second,” I assured him, but he just continued to stare intently at the ocean as if we didn't exist.
“Over here, look.” Helmut took me to the railing and pointed toward the sea. “Right there.”
I was surprised by how small it looked. Even though we were only on the second floor of the rehab center, it felt like we were much higher. “It looks so far from here,” I observed. “But still close enough.”
“Close enough that you can put on a show for him if you want.” Helmut's grin was pure evil as I turned to him with puzzlement in my eyes. “You can do a dance for him in one of the windows at night. I could even bring him some binoculars and you could, you know, call him up and have some fun from a distance. Could be hot.” He did a little gyrating for my benefit.
I rolled my eyes at him and turned to our silent neighbor. “You'll have to excuse him,” I said, “He doesn't always think before he speaks.”
The white haired man still didn't stir. I considered the possibility that he was somehow out of touch with reality, but he didn't look vacant to me. Instead, he looked very focused, perhaps too focused. When he didn't respond I just shrugged and motioning to Helmut, headed back to Ben.
“Could you see it?” Ben asked.
“Oh yeah,” I sighed, “But you wouldn't believe what Helmut wants me to do.
“I think I would,” Ben grinned. Then turning back to his food, he frowned, “What I can't believe is that they expect me to eat this crap.”
“Alright,” I relented. “I'll check in with the doctor tomorrow and see what I can do, no blow job necessary.”
Ben just smiled, but I caught him giving Helmut a quick wink before he returned to the abomination that was his supper. “I'm going to have to watch those two,” I thought. “big time.”
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
