Blind Leading the Blind Ch. 01

Chapter One

Inhibitions

George Hopkins knew something was up as soon as he opened the door to step into the house. He could smell the faint aroma of incense, cinnamon if he was not mistaken. Charlene had something planned, something he was sure he would enjoy. He set his briefcase down next to the door and hung his jacket up before crossing the threshold of the entrance to the house into the living room. Charlene was there, utterly beautiful in her dress. It was maroon, highlighting her olive skin, the gentle cleavage showing just enough breast to hint at things to come. Her black hair cascaded down her back, reaching below her shoulders. The two inch black heels lifted her up, thrusting her chest forward just enough to draw attention to her charms.

He gave a wolf whistle. "Honey, you look fabulous. Did I forget a special occasion, or are you just being the woman I fell in love with?"

"I'm hoping it will be both, but mainly, I love you and wanted a romantic night with wild passionate sex afterwards, if you don't have anything better to do."

"If I had anything else, it just got cancelled," he replied, walking forward and embracing her warmly. "It's your evening, where do we start?"

"I made chicken a la king, with brussel sprouts and potatoes. Then maybe a hot movie followed by a thing or two that might come to our minds. Does that work for you?"

"With you, a can of generic chili would be romantic. I love what you've done. Let's eat."

During dinner, they talked about their days, catching up on the twelve hours they had been separated since he had left the house. The presence of candles and the romantic mood did not stop that ritual from occurring. Both George and Charlene believed that this time of sharing was one of the most important things they did each day. After seven years of listening to the other share their day, each weekday, they had truly become interested in what was being shared.

George spent his days working as a contractor. He owned his own firm and had, at any one time, half a dozen projects going on, requiring him to travel all over the city, checking on progress and putting out the minor fires that threatened construction projects on a routine basis. When he wasn't on a job site, he was in his office, doing the leg work to get the next job that would pay the bills for the months in the future. If his father had not taught him to leave work at work, he could easily have become a stereotypical workaholic.

To say that Charlene did not work would be highly inaccurate. It's true that she did not work for a paycheck, but she was not a 'sit at home and watch the soaps' kind of woman (though Young and the Restless got recorded when she had to be out). She volunteered at the crisis pregnancy center run by her church three days a week and was available at the local elementary school to help teachers with student reading. George loved the days when she was at the school. Listening to her enthusiasm as she described the children's reading skills improving was almost breathtaking.

The movie Charlene had picked out was hot. Like most adult movies it was short on plot and long on sex. In this case, the actors were all at least capable of acting, making those strings of plot that connected the sex bearable. They also had everything they needed to make the sex scenes great. George felt particularly lucky that Charlene enjoyed pornos. This one started with an incredible oral scene, with the stacked blond actress lavishing near adoration on the cock that her mouth was loving. The director had done the entire blowjob in a single take with no camera switches. What made this incredible was that the scene lasted a good 15 minutes, with the man's orgasm delayed at least three times by her well practiced technique. When he did cum, she took an incredible amount in her mouth, while still more spattered her face and tits. In a scene he found just fucking hot, she turned to the camera and opened her mouth, letting the camera zoom in as she actually swallowed open mouthed for the audience to see.

While watching, becoming hard, George could feel Charlene looking on, breathing shallow and fast. He realized what the special occasion was, or at least what she hoped to make it. He hugged her tight, running his hand down her far side, tickling the spot just above her hip that she liked so much, whispering, "I love you, no matter what."

She answered, trembling, "I really want to. I think I'm ready."

"No rush, no pressure. If you can, you can. If not, then that's okay too."

She reached over and felt him through his pants. He was hard, throbbing slightly. Her breath caught in her throat, her stomach churning, a feeling that had nothing to do with dinner. She slid off the couch and knelt before him. She rubbed her hands along his legs, moving closer to his erection with each stroke. Her eyes were brimming with tears as the reaction she was used to, and hated began. She closed her eyes, breathing deep, trying to calm herself.

George could see her struggling and was tempted to stop her and let her know how much this wasn't necessary. He knew, however, that it was for her. They had talked about it for years, off and on, and Charlene wanted desperately to give him this. A part of her felt incomplete each time she failed. For her, he would let her try as often as she wanted. It tore him up inside, however, to see her fail and what the failure did to her.

With her eyes still closed, she undid the belt and button of his pants, pulling them down around his feet. She felt her way back up, revisiting the caresses on his legs, this time without pants. This part she had down. His cock was more than erect, hard as a rock and dripping precum from the tip. His own breath was coming faster as the excitement between his legs grew. The tightening of his penis seemed to draw all the nerves of his body down to it, making every touch on his body like little bursts of pleasure that resulted in a twitch in his cock.

Charlene's hands reached him, thrilling her with the feel of him. One hand cupped his balls while the other one made feather light strokes along the shaft. A drop of precum dripped onto her thumb and she brought it up to her mouth, licking it off. The taste, while not anything to write home about, was not unpleasant. Taste had never been her problem. She could hear her husband groaning with pleasure. She bent forward, the big moment approaching. Guiding her unseeing head (eyes still squeezed shut) with her hands, she opened her mouth and, sticking her tongue out, licked the head of George's cock.

Her stomach clenched and her mind reeled. She groaned, her breath became frantic and panic rose up in her, threatening to tear her apart. Forcing herself, she licked at it again, feeling him jerk in happiness. But it was too much. Crying, "Oh God!" she let go, running into the bathroom. Her sobs could be heard through the closed door.

"Oh, Charlene, I'm so sorry," George whispered to himself. He stood, putting his pants back on and walked to join the love of his life in her heartbreak. He pushed the door open and walked over to her. He lifted her up and embraced her, resting Charlene's head on his shoulder. "It's okay honey. You just weren't ready tonight. I love you so much. It's so wonderful you keep trying."

Through her tears she expressed her frustration with herself, her fears. "I don't understand why it's so hard. It's such a simple thing and I can't do it. I feel like I'm smothering as soon as any part of my mouth touches it. What is wrong with me? Sometimes I wish you'd just make me do it, force yourself into my mouth. Then it would be done and maybe I could..."

"Charlene, I could never force you to do anything against your will. It would be like raping you. I love you too much to even consider such a thing. There's no rush, we have the rest of our lives to work this out. And if it never happens, I still love you and want to be with you of the rest of my life."

"I know. It's not you. You've been so good about this. Ever since the first time you asked and I couldn't, you never asked again. That means so much to me. I just want to give you all of me, just like you give me all of you. I'll find a way, I promise."

"That's good enough for me. I'll do anything I need to make it easier. You know, we could see about visiting a sex therapist."

"I am not going to tell a complete stranger that I can't give head because I panic every time I try." She noticed that he was still erect, very erect. Her own desires had vanished in the panic. "Come on, I don't feel anything anymore, but I want to help you with that little, or not so little problem there." She felt his cock through his pants again, playfully squeezing it.

"Careful. You might make a mess in there."

"Oh, I intend to make a mess, just not there."

She dragged him back to the couch, pushing him gently back to the seat. Then she started dancing, swaying her hips and pouting her lips at him. Her shoes were the first to go, casually flipped to the side. Her eyes closed, she swayed and turned, signing, "I love you," with her entire body in a language only they understood. An arm slipped out of its strap, letting the side of the dress fall, partially exposing one breast. The faint scar from her lumpectomy was just visible through the sheer red fabric. The second arm extracted itself, letting the dress begin its slow decent. It fit snuggly enough that the dance was actually needed to coax it off of her body without the use of hands. As it fell free to land at her feet, her panties were exposed at last, a matching red with a darker circle of fabric from the long gone arousal she had felt.

Charlene stepped free of the dress on the floor and knelt between his legs again. George's pants were removed again, this time all the way, along with his briefs. The movie, still playing in the background, showed one woman licking the cock of a man as it slid into another woman's pussy. Neither one noticed it on a conscious level, though the moans of pleasure coming from the TV were adding to their own excitement. Charlene grasped the cock before her, fondling it like it was the most valuable thing on the planet. She played with the precum, using it to slick him up as her hands caressed it.

George was able to relax, letting the intense feelings wash over him, knowing that Charlene was not going to try again tonight, not going to prod herself into a panic. Once again, his whole body seemed to collapse into his cock, adding their sensations to what was happening in his penis. He groaned as the waves of feeling washed over him. He could feel her sides rubbing against his legs, creating little sparks of pleasure that tingled all over, making the slick hands rubbing against his cock all the more intense.

As George cried out, "Oh God! Don't stop!" Charlene aimed the primed weapon directly at her face. Her hands sped up, sending her lover over the top, his cock throbbing and pulsing, streams of cum erupting to land on her face and neck. Some dripped onto her breasts, soaking into her bra. His head had flown back and he had grunted several times as the feeling of pouring all of him out swept over him. As she milked the last of the cum from him, he took several deep breaths, his head still back.

"Dear, this is for you," she whispered.

As he looked up, she licked at her hand, lapping up the cum that had collected there, a sultry smile on her face. While it tasted somewhat unpleasant, sort of like pudding with no flavor or sugar, she made like she was savoring the taste and aroma, doing it for him, the man she loved. This was one reason she could not understand her reaction to trying to perform fellatio. She had no problem taking semen into her mouth. It didn't taste good, but it didn't bother her much.

She consumed every drop he had left on her, scooping it in her fingers and sucking them like a spoon of ice cream. Part way through, he reached out and used his own finger to gather some and offered it to her. She sucked his finger clean, making, "mmmm," noises with each gob he fed to her. When she had eaten every drop, she stood, pulling him up with her and kissed him. His mouth opened willingly as her tongue requested entrance, sharing the taste that she had been willing to experience.

"Charlene, you are so sensuous and sexy. I'm one lucky man."

"I want to lie in bed, have you hold me."

They left the tape running, to rewind automatically when it finished, and went to bed, he holding her body in his arms, a protective circle against all who would seek to harm her.

They woke up to the alarm the next morning, Wednesday. Their morning routine consisted of numerous kisses stolen against the rush of getting to work, for George, and to whatever duties called Charlene. This morning, the crisis clinic was on her schedule. He warned her that he would be an hour or more later than usual to inspect a lighting issue at one of the jobs.

Charlene's duties at the crisis pregnancy clinic were primarily receptionist. There was usually a young girl that would come in asking about resources for a 'friend' that might be in trouble. She would pretend that everyone believed the story that everyone knew was a cover and explain what resources were offered for those who found themselves pregnant and unable or unwilling to be mothers. Today was no exception. A girl, looking no older than 15, came in, looking nervous.

"Hi."

"Hello. Welcome to the clinic. How can I help you?"

"I have a friend, she's late."

"I see. Is she afraid she might be pregnant?"

"Yes. She... she's afraid to... she wants to know, but... she's afraid to get a kit."

"That's understandable. It's not like those ones in the stores are very discreet. We offer testing services here, both home tests and complete medical ones for free. Did you want to pick one up for her?"

"They're free?"

"Oh yes. Your friend has a lot to worry about without the extra worry of how to pay for something." Charlene reached into the drawer and pulled out one of the kits. "This one is just like the ones you can get in the store, it's just not brightly labeled. You can have this, and your friend can find out for sure. If she wants to be absolutely sure, she can come here and we'll test her on site. No names needed."

The girl had tears in her eyes. "What ... what if it's... what if she is?"

"If she is pregnant, that's a wonderful thing. She's bringing a new life into the world, a tremendous responsibility. We can provide complete support for her during her pregnancy and beyond. Full prenatal care, birth and parenting training, and support with raising her child once it's born."

"What if... what if she doesn't want it?"

"We can also provide help in placing the child for adoption. The adoptive parents can be involved from the beginning if she wishes, or it can be a totally blind adoption."

"You don't... you won't do abortions?"

"No. We don't want to burden your friend with the guilt that inevitably comes from the knowledge that they've taken the most innocent of lives."

The girl's tears were running freely and she bolted from the clinic, test in hand. Charlene said a silent prayer that God would provide comfort for the terrified teen, and guidance in making the right decision.

"You handled that very well, as usual." The clinic supervisor, Betty Stimpson, was behind her. "God willing, we'll see that one again. You up for lunch?"

"Famished. Carl's?"

"Sounds like a plan." She called out to the back, "Shirley, Charlene and I are going to lunch. You've got the desk."

The two women walked the four blocks to the Cajun eatery famous for it's jambalaya. Betty and Charlene had been friends for longer than either had been married. They shared just about everything on their regular lunches. Today, Betty could see that something was bothering Charlene.

"What's the problem, Char."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to someone who knows you as well as I do. It's not the girl, that I can tell. What gives?"

They had talked about this subject before, with Betty trying to reassure Charlene that she didn't have to. "I tried to perform fellatio on George again last night."

"Another panic attack?"

"Yes. Damn, Betty, it's so frustrating. I've been trying for seven years, ever since he asked on our honeymoon. He never pressures me and I just can't do it. Sometimes I wish he would force me, make me do it even though I don't want to. George is such a doll, though. He would never consider forcing me against my will."

A thought had occurred to Betty. "You know, Char, if you ask him to make you, it would not really be against your will, would it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you ask George to force you to go down on him, he would be doing what you want him to do, and he would force you to do what you want to be able to do. That would not really be against your will, it would be what you want."

"I kind of see what you're saying. I'm not sure he would buy it though."

"What's the worst that can happen? He'll not buy it and you'll be the same place you are now. If he does, and he makes you blow him, well you'll have done it. It may not be fun, but has what you've been doing been fun?"

"No, it hasn't." She paused. "I'll have to think about it."

They finished lunch and went back to the clinic. The rest of her day went pretty routine with no return of the young lady. Other than a few calls about the services they offered, the front desk was slow. Over the course of the day, she thought about Betty's suggestion. Charlene could not seem to come down on one side or the other of it. She tried to imagine how she would feel and react if George tried to force her to perform oral sex on him.

Her biggest problem was imagining him doing it at all. Her husband was one of the most considerate people she knew. That he could be that forceful seemed so out of character. Yet, she knew that he could not run his own company without having the force of will to expect and compel obedience from his employees. She also remembered the IRS incident from four years ago. They had attempted to impose a penalties and interest because of a bookkeeping error on their part. He had been down right nasty in dealing with them. Most people she knew were so cowed by the IRS that they would have rolled over and paid the fines. George stood his ground and even threatened a countersuit. In the end, he had prevailed and the fees were totally reversed.

So it wasn't a case of not being able to imagine George forceful, it was imagining him forceful with her. This idea would only work if he would not take no for an answer, literally make her do the deed. She had not resolved the dilemma by the end of the night, leaving the idea unspoken between them.

The next day, she had no place to be and spent the entire day at home. The household chores were done in short order, the result of the two of them refusing to let them pile up for any length of time. She decided to watch one of her favorite movies, "The Return of the Jedi." An idea percolated in her mind during the movie. Even if it didn't accomplish the goal of getting George to force her into oral sex, it might still be fun. She stopped the movie short and went about preparing for a most unusual evening.

George arrived at the house shortly before 6 that night. He thought it unusual that the house was almost all dark. There seemed to be a line of candles leading from the door into the house. He smiled, thinking that Charlene had prepared something romantic for him again. He just hoped that she was not going to try the oral sex thing so soon after the last failure. He hung up his coat, setting his case on the floor and followed the candles.

The trail led to the bedroom door, which was closed with an envelope taped to it. On the envelope was just his name. Opening it, he took out a letter and read it by the light of a candle.