1. Sunset Skinny Dip


    Date: 1/8/2018, Categories: Love Stories, Author: ClarkRoberts, Source: LushStories

    I got up out of the wheelchair as my wife, Delia, pulled our car up to the entrance of the Veterans Hospital. “Keep on, keepin’ on,” encouraged the middle-aged patient transporter backing the wheelchair out of my way. He was a Vietnam veteran and I had gotten to know him during my numerous in-and-out stays at this facility. Opening the car door, I replied, “Semper Fi, Mac.” I had just finished a week long stay, following my thirtieth surgery since I had been wounded in action. This procedure was relative minor compared to the other surgeries I had endured over the past thirty two months. Shrapnel lodged in my gluteus maximus had been causing me some discomfort, so basically I had the pain in my butt removed. Delia smiled at me as I got into the car, “You’re moving better, Rico.” “Yeah, the physical therapy folks are great here. Since they got all the lead out of my ass I can move a lot faster too,” I teased, closing the car door. Delia chuckled then gave me a quick peck on the lips. She put the vehicle in gear and we headed away from the hospital. Wind whistled through the open windows. Her long black hair fluttered in the breeze flowing though the auto. The blue tank top she was wearing brought out the blue in her eyes. She glanced my way and her eyes sparkled mischievously. Surprisingly, she wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples tented the tight material of the top. She caught me studying her boobs and asked, “What?” “I’m just admiring your beauty,” I replied with a grin. ...
    My wife grinned back at me. She didn’t wear much make-up. But then, she really didn’t need too. She quipped, “Beauty’s only skin deep.” “Yep, ugly goes clear to the bone, trust me, I know,” I said, frowning at the ugly mesh-pattern scar on my left arm, the result of a skin grafting procedure. I had sustained third-degree burns to the left side of my head, face, and both arms when my Hummer rolled over an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) in Afghanistan. Additionally, shrapnel had riddled my legs. I was lucky to be alive. My wounds had left my body a mangled mess. I now wondered if being alive was a blessing or a curse. “Don’t start that crap again,” warned my wife with a glare. She didn’t want me stalling my recovery by slipping back into depression again. Countering my negativity, she soothed, “I love you for who you are not what you look like.” “And, who am I?” I smirked, adjusting the passenger’s door mirror so I wouldn’t have to look at my reflection. “You’re a friggin’ hero,” Delia praised. “They gave you a Bronze Star for actions above and beyond the call of duty. You’re my hero.” “I ain’t no hero. I’m nothing but a survivor.” “Well, you didn’t know the other three men in the Hummer were dead until after you pulled them out.” “Maybe, if I had known I would have left them to burn,” I snarled. The Hummer’s fuel tank had exploded as I was pulling my dead comrades from it, leaving me burned, broken and bitter. “No you wouldn’t. You’re a good man, Rico.” I sighed. I didn’t ...
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