Chapter 14: Mysteries
Something had shifted. With Ben finally out of the hospital and somewhat mobile, his mood had improved and I felt like a great weight had been lifted. It seemed like real progress and I felt I could breathe again. Sandra and I had been taking turns staying with him through the night at the hospital, and we decided that we probably didn't need to do that anymore, but she wanted to stay with him tonight, for her own peace of mind. I think she was afraid of leaving him alone in a new place on his first night. I stayed with him until late, while she went home for dinner and a nap. When she returned at about 10:00, I kissed him goodnight and headed for the cottage, wondering how my first night in a new place would be and if I would experience any of the unexplained things that I had heard about that gave it a reputation for being haunted.
The stillness of the cottage, paired with the hypnotic rhythm of the gently lapping waves, proved very calming. I spent an hour or so puttering, looking in the cupboards and closets, putting things away that Helmut and I had missed earlier, making note of things I had forgotten to bring. I finally settled down for a bedtime snack on the back porch, giving myself over to the peace that the stars and sea had offered me before. Over the last year Ben had convinced me to try my hand at knitting, and though I wasn't very good at it, I could manage a simple garter stitch scarf, and found the process quite relaxing. This seemed like the perfect time to knit a few rows to help me wind down, but the porch was a little too dark, so I gathered up my project and headed to bed. I fell asleep quickly, with the needles still in my hands.
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The room was totally dark as awareness began to creep back into me. In the darkness I had a strong sense of not being alone, but it was not alarming, rather it was exciting. It was quite common for me to wake with a boner in the middle of the night, and this night was no exception. I was as hard as could be and equally horny. I could feel my dick throbbing with pleasure as if I were jerking myself off, but my arms were raised and my hands were above my head. I still wasn't quite awake, so I just went with it. Soon, the sensation changed to a warm and wet engulfing, as if I were being sucked off. By now I was lost in the pleasure. The logical part of my brain was not engaging and sexual desire had taken over. My hips began to thrust upwards in rhythm with the sensations and without warning I was overcome by an intense orgasm. The waves of pleasure filled my being, slowly subsiding to match the sound of the waves and lull me back into a peaceful sleep.
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Still feeling the warm haze of afterglow, I slowly became aware of my surroundings. The light was still on and my knitting lay on the bed beside me, slightly tangled, but not badly disrupted. The clock indicated that it was a little after 3:00. Everything was as it had been when I had dozed off. Well, almost everything. The covers that had been over me had been pushed to one side, and my shorts were now down around my knees. Remembering the dream, I checked myself and found no traces of dried cum on my belly or legs. I chuckled to myself. “That's different,” I thought. “A ghost who sucks you off in the night and actually swallows. I wonder what Ben will make of this?” I suddenly realized that over the last few days I had consistently been having vivid dreams every time I fell asleep, and tonight's dream had included my shorts being pulled down. Should I be worried? I could have easily pulled down my own shorts in my sleep. After all, it was a sex dream. No need to fret about it tonight. I decided to tell Ben about it in the morning and see what he thought. Besides, even with no evidence of cum, I was still feeling the sleepy bliss of my dream orgasm. With another chuckle, I placed my knitting on the bedside table, pulled up my shorts, and turned out the light.
Ben roared with laughter when I finally had a chance to tell him about it. “I've had wet dreams before,” he joked, “But that one takes the cake. You're going to have to find out who's haunting that place so I know who to be jealous of.”
“According to the landlord no one has ever died there,” I told him. “There's no reason for there to be a ghost there. Besides, I haven't sensed anything there, no voices, no visions, just an overwhelming sense of peace and tranquility.”
“And horniness!” he added with a laugh. “Naw, you're right. It was probably nothing more than a wet dream. I mean, when was the last time you came?”
“The circle jerk at Mike's the other night, so it's only been a few days.” I turned the tables on him and added, “Besides, you're the one who should be having wet dreams. You haven't cum for over a week. I'd be ready to explode!”
“I would be if I had any libido,” he responded. “But still nothing.”
He was sitting in his wheelchair by the window, waiting to go for his first physical therapy session. I wrapped my arms around him as best I could and gave him a kiss. “It'll be back,” I said. “Probably sooner than you think.”
He grinned at me. “Well, until then you're just going to have to keep me entertained with the ongoing tales of the cum-hungry spirits of Seaside Cottage.” Then smiling to himself, he added, “Yeah, that can be your new project. We can call it Seaside Cottage, and you can create a new literary genre, haunted erotica. Yeah?
“It's probably already been done,” I laughed. “Besides, I should think sexual stories would be the last thing you want to hear since you have no sexual function. How about culinary adventures? I could find creative ways to smuggle tasty treats in to relieve the monotony of the meals here,”
“Don't you dare turn into my mother!” he warned with a laugh. “By all means, sneak in all the goodies you can, but while I'm...umm...non-functional, it's going to be up to you to keep the flame alive. That way we'll have lots of things to try once I'm able to get it up again.”
“Get what up again?” Cecil interrupted with a smirk. “Are you guys talking about sex again? It never stops with these two,” he said to the woman standing beside him. “Honestly, you two are...” He just shook his head as words failed him. “This is your therapist, Joan. Are you ready to begin?”
While Joan worked with Ben in the exercise room, I decided to take in the view from the patio. The white haired man in the wheelchair was once again sitting by the rail, looking at the sea so I decided to try speaking to him again. “Such a beautiful view,” I began, “Mind if I join you?” He didn't respond and since he didn't object I pulled up a chair and sat next to him. My name's Joey. How are you today?” Still no response. “I'm here with my partner, Ben. He's the redhead who just arrived yesterday. Right now he's paralyzed from the waist down, but they think he will recover, at least partially.”
I sat beside him, looking at the sea with him in silence for a few moments, then asked, “Have you ever been out at sea? I went on a cruise once when I was a kid. Got awfully sea sick, but I did enjoy being away from everything for a while. I think my mom was afraid the ship would sink. She didn't seem to enjoy it much. My dad just rolled his eyes at us all the time. I think he loved it but found it frustrating that we...Well that neither of us enjoyed it as much as him.” After a few more minutes of silence I pointed to the cottage. “That's where I'm living right now,” I said. “Moved in last night. Just renting while Ben is here for rehab. Such a beautiful little place, and so quiet. Everyone told me it was haunted, but that doesn't bother me. I've lived in haunted houses before. Usually make friends with the ghosts, works out better that way.”
He still sat in silence, staring out to sea. “Well, I don't want to intrude on your privacy. I should probably go and check on Ben.” I put my hands on the arms of the chair to rise, and without breaking his stare towards the sea, he softly placed a hand on mine. I wasn't sure if he was asking me to stay or thanking me for sitting with him. Either way, I relaxed back into my chair and said, “But I suppose there's no rush. I could stay for a bit longer if you like.” With that he removed his hand from mine and we sat in silence until Cecil came to tell me Ben was done with his session. “Same time tomorrow?” I asked as I got up to leave. “Maybe I'll bring some knitting.” I patted him on the shoulder and went inside.
Once inside, I quietly asked Cecil, “Who is he? Is he all there?”
“That's Mr. Bouchard,” he answered. “I don't really know anything about him. It seems he's been here forever. Must be in his late nineties by now. Totally unresponsive, but healthy as a horse. I think he was a local, but not sure. He never gets any visitors, so it was nice to see you sitting with him like that.”
“Yeah, he never said a word, just kept staring out at the sea. I just wondered if he could even hear me.”
“No idea.” By now we were in the elevator. “I'm not sure if anyone knows. I've never heard him speak since I've had clients here.”
“Well, he seemed to enjoy my company. When I went to leave he put his hand on mine as if to ask me to stay,” I told him. “It was kind of sweet.”
“He moved on his own?” Cecil seemed surprised. “When I said unresponsive, I meant totally unresponsive. He doesn't do anything on his own. We should probably let the nurses know. If he's responding to you, that's remarkable.”
“But I didn't do anything,” I protested. “I just chatted about nothing and sat with him for a few minutes.”
“But maybe you're the right person to do that. You said something about bringing some knitting tomorrow?”
“I'm just learning, but...”
“Do it!” he insisted. “Bring your knitting, bring whatever, just spend some time with him. I'll let the nurses know so they can observe. You may not realize it, but what he did is kind of a big deal”
“Okay,” I said, a little confused. “If you say so.” It was such a little thing he had done, and I was dubious about its importance, but if sitting with Mr. Bouchard was helpful, I was willing to give it a try.
When I got back to the room, the CNA was putting Ben into bed. Clearly PT had worn him out and he needed a nap. I sat on the bed beside him and held him as he dozed off. As he faded I realized that a couple of minor mysteries had just presented themselves to me. The mystery of how the cottage had become haunted, and the mystery of Mr. Bouchard. It was almost lunchtime, so I decided to grab a sandwich and head into the office to do a little digging. I needed a distraction and these fun little mysteries seemed to be just the ticket.
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