I'm in a lot of hot water with my wife. Hopefully, she'll get over it, but I suspect I'm going to have to spring for a lavish party where we renew our vows. It's my own fault, and there's no chance that I won't do it, so I guess I'll have to spend the money.
It all stems from my twisted sense of humor. I certainly like dry comedy, and slapstick physical comedy. I like juvenile humor and fart jokes. Occasionally, when the situation really calls for it, I will stoop to off-color and morbid jokes.
Tell me if you don't think my humor was right this time.
I took a date that was not my wife to a swinger's party. The couple that was hosting the party were well aware of the relationship between me and my date and my wife, and they were good with it. We expected to have a good time.
There was another guest that thought she could create some drama at my expense. She had been chastised in the past for bringing dates that were cheating on their spouses, and she tried to goad me into admitting that I was cheating. I politely refused to be baited, and she persisted until she was asked to leave.
After she left, one of our closer friends couldn't leave things alone. I think he thought that a good joke would get people laughing and having fun again. His words to me were spoken in a whisper, but loud enough that everyone in the room heard.
"So, John, your date sure is pretty. Are you sure having her here won't wreck your marriage?"
I couldn't stop my morbid self.
"You know I won't ever leave my wife. You also know we've both exercised the escape clause in the marriage contract, yet we're still together. If our deaths can't separate us, a pretty woman has no chance!"
We all laughed, the party got moving again, and everything was good.
Everything was good, except my wife heard about the joke, and she didn't like it. I look forward to renewing our vows.
'Til death do us part.'
That's supposed to be a declaration of commitment. I love the one comedian's joke where he asks, "When did that change from a commitment to a goal?" It was never a goal for us. It just happened.
My wife died fifteen years ago in a car accident. Luckily, it wasn't a permanent thing. All joking aside, I will never be able to give enough thanks to the life-saving people at Freodert Medical Center in Milwaukee. With the internal injuries that she had suffered, there was less than one in twenty chance of her surviving. I will always be thankful for their belief in her recovery at a time when all I could do was pray.
I died earlier this year in a winter storm. Luckily, it wasn't permanent for me, either.
It had been a crazy week of weather leading up to that storm. It is normal for southern Wisconsin to get a January thaw near the end of the month. This year, the temperature set record highs and the snow-cover melted quickly. That was followed by a day of heavy rain. The ground was still frozen, and there was flooding everywhere.
On the day that I died, the rain was supposed to stop well before the temperatures fell back below freezing. I'm sure a meteorologist could explain why the rain continued and didn't turn to snow. By the time I left work, there was ice everywhere and the roads were treacherous at best.
A smart man would have taken the day off. I guess I'm not smart. A smart man would have 'sheltered in place'. I guess I'm not smart. A smart man would have stuck to the main roads. I guess I'm not smart. Except for the dying part, it was a good thing that I was stupid.
On a country road in the middle of farm fields, I came upon a police squad car parked on the edge of the road with all of its lights flashing. It was parked at an odd angle next to a steep ditch, and something looked wrong. Not that I had been going fast, but I slowed down even more to get a closer look. The squad appeared to be all alone, and there was no sign of the officer.
I stopped my car in the middle of the road and turned on my flashers. As I stepped out of my car, I nearly lost my footing on the ice. As I rounded the front of my car, I could see the back end of a pickup truck submerged in the water in the ditch. I could just see its tracks in front of the squad car. I started to worry when I saw a portable police radio on the ground at the edge of the ditch.
Things turned rather frantic after that. The officer heard me and started flailing about in the water by the truck. She saw me and she tried to call out for help. I slipped on the ice and almost joined her in the water. I grabbed the radio and started calling for help as I slipped and skidded my way back to my car. The voice on the radio promised help was coming. I grabbed a tie-down strap and headed back to the edge of the ditch.
I attached one end of the strap to the bumper of the squad car and threw the other end down to the officer. She caught it, but she could barely hold it and she couldn't pull herself free. She cried out that her foot was trapped. She looked to be having trouble keeping her eyes open, and as I watched, they rolled closed.
I didn't take time to think. I dropped over the edge and slid down into the water with her. The water was heart-stopping cold, and I couldn't believe she was still alive. I had to plunge under the water to free her foot. It took two tries.
Things got really bad after that. By the time her foot was free, she was completely unresponsive, but her body was still shivering. To make matters worse, I couldn't find any traction to get us out of the ditch.
The agony seemed to go on for hours. I had to use my arms and the end of the strap to hold her close as I butt-scooted backwards up the side of the ditch. There was barely any traction, so I had to struggle to move my grip a couple inches up the strap, and then haul both of our bodies up a bit. Inch by inch, I struggled.
I heard sirens, but they never seemed to get any closer. My hands got so numb that I couldn't feel the strap any more, but I just kept going. The cold pressed into my shoulders and chest, and I thought my lungs were going to explode. The sirens faded away, and I nearly gave up.
Suddenly, a man appeared. I saw that he was wearing a uniform, and he was screaming at me, but I couldn't hear a thing. I think he wanted me to let go, and I tried to tell him that if I did, the female officer would die.
For some reason, he started yelling angry words at me, but I couldn't hear them. He pulled something from his belt. There was an inaudible pop, and then lightning struck my shoulder and everything went black.
I woke up in a hospital room, with a lot of gadgets attached to my body and beeping away. I had a hard time keeping track of how many nurses and doctors were milling about, but they all seemed happy to see my eyes open. After a couple of hours, they pulled the breathing apparatus out of my throat, and I was able to thank them and ask questions.
It turns out that because the accident had been right on the county line, the first officer to arrive had been from the other county. The dispatch had not been clear, and he didn't realize I had been saving the officer, and not trying to strangle her.
When he fired his taser, the pins had separated, with one hitting me and the other hitting the female officer. Given the cold and the strain on our bodies, the jolt had stopped both of our hearts. Luckily, more officers and a rescue squad had arrived, and we had both been saved.
They kept me at the hospital for a couple of days, and then sent me home for a week of bed rest. I didn't start feeling normal until nearly the end of the week. In the end, I was cleared to go back to work, and everything mostly went back to normal.
My commute takes me past the scene every day, and it doesn't bother me. I was offered some kind of recognition award, and I declined. It seemed prudent to hire a lawyer to ensure my medical bills were paid, but I didn't want big money and I didn't want to ruin anyone's career. I really was ready to put it all behind me.
Apparently, others weren't as ready.
A couple weeks had gone by. Just as I turned onto County Line Road, a squad car pulled in behind me and turned on his flashing lights. I muttered to myself about no good deed going unpunished, and I pulled over. I hadn't been speeding, and I hadn't rolled through a stop sign, so I wondered what the officer wanted.
It was the officer that had tasered me. He understood that there was a possibility of a lawsuit, and he had been asked unofficially not to contact me. He said he understood what was necessary on my part, but he wanted to unofficially apologize for his actions. I told him that officially or unofficially, I accepted his apology, with no hard feelings. We shook hands and parted ways.
Three days later, at almost the exact same spot, another squad car pulled in behind me with lights flashing. I muttered to myself about unnecessary harassment, and pulled over.
The tall, dark-skinned, female officer that I watched get out of the car was definitely not the officer I had pulled from the ditch. She simply introduced herself as Officer Culpepper, and then she apologized for pulling me over. Before I could say something sarcastic, she said she had an unofficial favor to ask of me.
I was getting tired of taking care of unofficial business this way, but I politely asked what she wanted.
She was close friends with the officer I had pulled from the ditch. The officer was having continuing health problems from the incident, and was unable to leave her home. Officer Culpepper wanted to know if I would be willing to go meet with the other officer. Officer Culpepper thought it would do the other officer some good to be able to thank me in person, and to see that I was doing well.
I thought it was odd that while her words were saying one thing, her body language was saying another. I couldn't tell you why, but I was pretty sure that Officer Culpepper didn't want me to go anywhere near the other officer. In spite of her body language, she repeated the request twice as we spoke.
I agreed to go, mostly because I didn't have any reason to object, and also because I knew that it would help us both in moving on. She handed me a card with a name, an address, and a phone number.
Somewhere along the line, I became aware that the officer I had rescued was named Officer Brown. I couldn't say why, but I was pleased to suddenly have a first name for her. It was Judy.
I made the call, and two days later, I stopped by her home on my way home from work. She had asked to make me dinner, so I let my wife know I was going to be late.
Officer Judy Brown lives in a small farmhouse nestled in a woodlot surrounded by fields. You probably wouldn't even notice her driveway unless you were looking for it. The house is set off the road and is nearly lost in the trees, which gives it a cozy, isolated feel.
I saw her waiting at the window when I got out of my car, and she opened the front door as I approached. She was wearing jeans, a sweatshirt, and thick socks. I could see her shoes on a mat by the door, so I kicked my shoes off as we introduced ourselves. My sense of humor jumped right into gear.
"So, you're a lot smaller and prettier than I remember from the last time we met," I joked.
"I was covered in mud and I don't think we ever stood side by side," she laughed.
"It's not that," I said. "I bet I could lift you with one arm, now, but I seem to recall struggling to drag you even an inch."
She laughed indignantly.
"I don't know if you took time to notice," she pointed out, "but I was wearing a waterlogged parka, a heavy protective vest, and a full utility belt."
"You were a bit overdressed for swimming, to be sure," I said with a smile.
"The next time I ask you to rescue me, I'll be sure I strip down first," she replied with a grin.
I couldn't stop my eyes from undressing her. Her jeans showed off a nice shape to her waist and hips, but her sweatshirt completely hid her upper body. If I had to guess, her breasts were not small, and if her legs were any indication, she was in good shape.
"Are you done?" she asked sarcastically, but with a pleased smile. "Looks like that might get you in trouble."
I blushed, but I still managed to apologize.
"I am most sorry for that," I said with a straight face. A grin threatened to show as I added, "You started it."
She had been smiling the whole time. Suddenly, in an instant, her face changed from flirting fun to pain and fear.
"Fuck, no," she gasped through clenched teeth as she staggered sideways a step and grabbed the back of a chair.
She was still grimacing when her eyes shot up to mine. I'm sure she saw shock and concern in my eyes.
"Please, help me," she said in pain. "The couch!"
As I raced over to her side, I noticed that her left leg was trembling. She reached for me and I had to catch her before she fell. Her leg started shaking violently, and if her grip on my arm was any indication, she was in a lot of pain. She clutched me tightly as I walked her over to the couch where we sat together.
"I'm sorry," she managed to get out. Her eyes pleaded with me as she barely managed to say, "Behind me. Hold me."
There was no chance I would refuse. I jumped up and slid in behind her. She pulled my arms around her body, and then she tried to turn to snuggle against me. Her leg continued to thrash about as I held her.
I didn't even think as I pulled her down to lay in front of me on the couch. That allowed me to start rubbing along her hip.
I guess I was thinking that sometimes when my wife gets leg cramps, she likes for me to massage the spasm away. Judy's attack looked like an epileptic seizure, but it was confined to just her left leg. I was hoping that rubbing it would help the spasms end.
As I rubbed, a low growl sounded from her throat, so I slid my hand back to her stomach, where she had been holding it.
"Don't stop," she growled. She pushed my hand back to her leg and I started rubbing again.
It lasted for several minutes, and I held her the whole time. I didn't know what else to do, so I held her and rubbed her leg. After a while, her breathing eased up, and although her leg was still kicking and tears were still streaming down her face, she half-turned to give me a grateful look.
Her eyes implored deeper, and she watched my eyes closely as she said, "Don't stop."
I hadn't planned on stopping, but suddenly she popped her jeans open and pushed them down over her hips. I struggled to keep my face passive as my hand suddenly was gliding over very smooth and very warm skin. She managed to use her right leg to kick her jeans onto the floor, and I managed to keep rubbing.
The amazing thing was that I was able to ignore the lust that was exploding in my groin. With my hand on her flesh, I could feel the areas in her leg that were cramping, and I was able to properly feel just how hard I needed to rub to break the spasms. She growled again, but she pulled my other arm tighter to her body. It felt really good to hold her.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "Usually I can feel it coming on soon enough to get comfortable before it hits. This one came on really fast, and it felt like it was going to be a bad one. I think your rubbing ended it faster than normal."
I was concentrating on willing away my growing hardness, so I didn't answer right away.
"The doctors say it's nerve damage from when I fell on my tailbone, but it starts right below where the taser hit me," she said.
I kept concentrating, and I kept rubbing, but I managed to find words as well.
"My left arm feels funny sometimes, and I can't tell if I'm imagining it or if I'm having a heart attack," I said softly.
She half turned in my arms to look at my shoulder. She had to have felt my hardness pressing into her side. She blushed and turned away again, but she pulled my arm tight around her body at the same time. The spasms in her leg had slowed considerably, but I kept rubbing.
"I want to see where it hit you," she said lightly.
"I don't think there's anything to see anymore, but you can still feel a bump there," I answered.
"Yeah?" she asked. I could almost hear the smile in her voice.
Suddenly, she rolled in my arms to face me.
"Hold me while I see if I can find it," she teased as she pushed the front of my shirt up.
She kept pushing until my shirt went up over my head. She moaned softly as she snuggled into my chest. Her hands felt hot on my skin as one stroked my right ribs and the other reached under to explore my left shoulder.
At first, I was at a loss for what to do, and so I wrapped my arms around her as she had ordered. Then I felt her leg muscles as they twitched against my leg. My hands slid down her body in unison to massage her lower back and her hips. On their own, they decided to loop around and massage her butt before working their way back onto her back.
Her fingers found the bump and explored it for moment, and then she snuggled against me as her hands caressed my skin.
We held each other like that for several minutes, with my hands squeezing and massaging and her hands exploring. Her leg tremors all but disappeared, but I continued to rub. She took several deep breaths as if she were going to say something, but she let them out without speaking.
On the next deep breath, she asked quietly, "Do you dream about the cold?"
My body shivered, and I tried to pretend I hadn't heard her. I didn't want to speak about the nightmares. I was afraid to talk about how my wife had moved to the guest room because of the way I would wake up screaming and thrashing at the blankets.
"Yes," I managed to answer.
Her body shivered, and her hands stopped caressing for a moment. She understood.
"Have you had other dreams?" she asked in an even lower tone.
I frowned. I had no idea what she was asking.
"What do you mean?" I asked. When she didn't answer I added, "I don't think so?"
"Don't ask, or we really will get in trouble," she answered. I could hear that she was smiling again.
She seemed to quickly change the subject. "Being held like this is nice."
I was too worried about the dreams that I wasn't having to simply enjoy holding her.
"The dreams about the cold are bad enough," I complained. "I don't think I could handle anything else."
She gave an exasperated sigh. "Being held like this is nice," she repeated.
I dragged out the words as I asked, "Yes, but...?"
Her body flexed against mine.
"I just told you not to ask," she reprimanded me in a very pleased tone.
I could feel the smile that I couldn't see, and as she caressed my ribs, I could feel her smile fade.
"It always starts with the cold," she said reluctantly. We both shivered. "Sometimes, it starts with the truck, and the ditch, and the water. Other times, I dream I'm at work, and my legs start to shake, and I try to call for help, but the cold surrounds me, and..."
I could feel her eyes squeeze shut as she clutched my sides and pressed her face against my chest. I slid my arms around her and held her close, letting her feel the warmth of my body. I felt her take several breaths before her eyes opened again. She snorted a disgusted laugh at herself.
"It always starts with the cold," she repeated. She started rubbing her cheek against my chest, and her tone changed completely. "In my dream, I tell myself that you will save me. I tell myself that your arms will hold me, and you will lift me, and I will feel your warmth."
She lifted her head, and she started teasing the tip of her nose against my chest. She seemed to be breathing in the warmth of my scent. I probably could have held her and safely enjoyed our closeness all night. When she started using her lips to gather the warmth, I knew we were going to get in trouble.
"Judy!" I warned her, and she chuckled as she kissed her way up to my neck.
"You should try this dream," she teased. "I love how things happen in dreams. One minute, I'm begging for your arms to pull me to safety..."
With a wicked smile, she arched her back to lift away from me. She was between my legs, and we could both feel her pressing her mound against my hardness. Just in case that wasn't distracting enough, she pulled her sweatshirt up and off and she threw it aside. She was bra-less underneath it, and I barely was able to get a glimpse of her breasts before she fell back down on top of me.
"... and the next, you're nearly naked, and begging for more," she finished.
If I could have spoken, I would have begged. All I could manage to do as I struggled to make sense of what was happening was to slide my hands up her naked back. On their own, my hands slid to her ribs on the way up, and my thumbs caressed the fullness along the sides of her breasts. She pressed her breasts into my chest as she kissed her way up my neck.
"This is better than the dream," she gasped. "Feel how much heat is radiating out of your body, warming me up!"
All I could feel was the heat of her body burning into mine. My hands slid down her back, and all on their own they slid into her panties to squeeze her ass. She moaned and thrust herself against my hardness.
Her hands raced down between us and she quickly ripped my pants open.
"Help me," she moaned as she frantically tried to push my pants down over my hips.
I would have kicked them off, but as soon as she felt my hands take control of my clothes, her hands slid away. As I tried to get my pants further down my legs, she was busy getting her legs over the top of mine so she could straddle my body.
"Your heat is going to fill me," she gasped.
I don't know if she meant that as a warning, a threat, or a promise, but I was eager to help her out either way. In one smooth move, she managed to push her panties aside, catch my shaft, and then guide me inside as she dropped her weight onto me. She quickly started thrusting her hips to drive herself down on my cock.
"Judy! Judy, wait! Stop!" I cried out.
She gasped as she froze, and she lifted her face to give me a surprised look. Her look quickly changed to a teasing smile.
"Your wife said you would last longer than..." Her words trickled to a stop as I frowned and shook my head.
"You trapped my boxers and they are strangling me," I answered. "You spoke to my wife?" I teased.
She gave me a surprised look as she quickly lifted up, much to my relief. The waistband of my boxers had been cutting sharply into my groin, pinching both my shaft and my balls. As she lifted, the pressure eased. She considered how to answer my tease, and the smile returned to her face.
"Do you know that commercial for the satellite TV service?" she asked, "the one where they hit pause, then move to another room to continue watching?"
"I guess?" I replied. I had no idea where she was going.
"I just hit pause, and then rewind, so the last minute or so didn't happen," she declared. "Now, carry me down to my bed, and be ready to resume when I hit play."
As she spoke, she carefully fell forward and turned to roll onto the couch beside me. It was a bit awkward, but I slid out from under her.