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SLEEPING NEXT TO HIS wife, waking up with her in his arms, was a pleasure beyond words. After last night, he didn’t think he’d have the fortitude to go without it ever again. Colin opened his eyes to the first rays of the sun peeking through the curtains and a smile of pure, glorious joy stretched his lips.
Last night had been marvelous. So good that if it weren’t for the soft warm body of his wife still curled against his side, he would have thought it had been a fever dream.
They had finally loved each other without barriers, without fears. He acknowledged she hadn’t been the only one holding back. In forbidding her to touch and explore his body at will, he had been erecting barriers, too. Those barriers had come tumbling down now. He had finally allowed her to touch and embrace him.
She still had not seen him clearly, though. He had shielded his back from her gaze. The room had been dark last night, only illuminated by candlelight after the light had faded. Writhing bodies lost in passion could disguise deformities. The coruscating light of morning hid nothing.
Better to get up and dressed before she woke up and wanted to continue her explorations in broad daylight.
Moving carefully to not disturb her sleep, he slid his shoulder from under her and sat up in bed. He was leaning down to grab his smalls from the floor when a soft hand landed on his back. Right over his hump.
He flinched as if scalded. Aware that this position, bending down as he was, exaggerated his deformity. He wanted to scramble away, throw his shirt on, cover his defects. He forced himself to stay still under her caress.
“I’m sorry.” She said, her voice husky from sleep. “Does it hurt when I touch you?”
“No.” He slowly straightened. Her hand was still on his back. Running over the entire surface. Feeling, looking.
“You jumped when I first touched you.”
“You startled me.” He still was facing away from her. Exposing his bare back. He felt more naked and vulnerable than when she had seen him fully nude before.
“Does it often cause you pain?” Now both her hands were running over his back and shoulders. She got up on her knees and draped her lovely body over his. He nearly forgot the question at the sensation of her naked flesh against his.
“Not often. Sometimes when I walk or ride too much it aches. A few times I have gotten more acute pain that feels like a sharp stabbing when I do certain movements. But they usually improve and go away in a few days.”
“But most days you feel well?”
“Yes.” Why was she asking all these questions? “The exercises and stretches help me keep my spine as healthy as can be, under the circumstances.”
“Good.” she said, sliding down and placing a kiss in the center of his back. It felt like a brand. “I wouldn’t want you to be in pain.”
He finally turned around and took her in his arms, bending down to seal his lips over hers. She moaned softly and his cock stirred to attention immediately.
“It is not that bad, you know,” she breathed against his ear as he nuzzled her neck.
“Hmm?”
“Your back.” She gasped as he sucked one nipple, but then regrouped. “It doesn’t look as bad as you seem to think.”
“My back is an ugly, twisted mess.” He said going to play with the other nipple because he wanted to stop the conversation about his misshapen back.
She was having none of it. It seemed she wanted to make a point and nothing, not even the promise of sensual pleasure, was going to distract her. She grabbed his face and turned it up to hers. He sighed. So be it. They’d have to talk about it at some point.
“No, it is not.” Abigail said seriously, looking into his eyes. “Yes, there’s some asymmetry. One shoulder blade and the ribs on that side seem to stick out more than the other side. The... hump gets more pronounced when you bend forward. But that hardly makes it a twisted mess. That is why I asked you about the pain. That is the only thing that would matter to me. As long as you feel well, your back matters not at all to me. I truly can not understand why you have made such a big deal out of it and even prevented me from embracing you for so long.”
He remained silent. How to explain the years of wearing an uncomfortable, unsightly brace? The contemptuous or pitying looks he had received? The deep-seated knowledge of feeling like a freak? The shame of being ridiculed for his deformity? Did he even want to go into that?
“Colin. Talk to me.” She insisted, pinning him with her blue-gray eyes.
He sucked in a fortifying breath, slowly let it out, “I have been dealing with this from the age of eleven or twelve. It blighted my childhood. Affected my parent’s marriage, and my relationship with my father. I spent all my youth going to doctors and trying treatment after treatment to improve my deformity.”
“I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“It was just... overwhelming. All-encompassing. There was no escaping it. I was required to wear an iron brace day and night. It was uncomfortable and sometimes even painful. But the worst part was that it made me look like a freak. I didn’t like to go out, and when I had to, I would bundle myself in too big clothes and a cloak to hide the brace.”
He could see the pity in her eyes, and he didn’t want pity, but now that he had started the story, he found he wanted to finish it. To invite her into every part of his life. Lay it all out in the open. Let her know the events that had shaped him into what he was - both literally and figuratively. So he went on.
“Other children tormented me because of this. One time, at Eton, a few kids grabbed me, tied me up and dressed me in women’s clothing, saying that the brace was a corset. They made fun of me in front of the entire school.” Remembering that day, even over twenty years later, made him shudder with old shame.
“That is just horrible!”
He looked at her. “The leader of that band of brutes was Quimby.”
Her eyes widened in comprehension.
“At least something good came of that. That was the day I met Gabriel. He was the only one who stood up for me. After that incident, I ran away from school and my mother eventually took me out of the country. She was a fierce lady. Dragged me to doctor after doctor in the continent and America. Looking for a solution. They all offered different variations of the same.”
“What were the treatments offered, other than the brace?”
“Oh, I would have to go in periodically to stretch. That involved pulling me on a bed that resembled a medieval torture rack or hanging me by my neck.” His lips twisted sardonically. “Yes, almost like a condemned man at the gallows. That is why you screamed when you saw me that day, is it not? You thought I had hanged myself.”
“I-I don’t know what I thought, but it looked disturbing.”
He chuckled softly. “Most of the apparatuses used in the treatment of scoliosis resemble torture devices. They actually look worse than they are. I still use several of them. It is not comfortable, especially for long periods of time, but I’ve found that stretching regularly helps me.”
“I see. But you don’t wear the brace anymore?”
He shook his head. “The brace is only useful while the body is still growing. After maturity, it becomes ineffective. I have found that physical exercise and developing my musculature have helped my spine as well. Some doctors postulate that’s because the muscles help support the spine.”
“Well, the desirable side effect is that your body is beautifully muscled.” She said, going to him, still naked, and smoothing her soft hands over his chest.
At least one muscle leapt to immediate attention.
“Abigail.” his voice was thick with need.
“You know, your body really is magnificent, Colin.” She looked at him and he caught his breath at the desire he saw in her eyes. As if she really found his deformed body attractive.
“I think all the things you went through in your youth have colored your perception of yourself.” Her insightful gaze met his. “As you said, you could not have a normal childhood and adolescence. You learned to see your body as a defective thing. Something to be ashamed of, and cover. But do you want to know what I see?”
“Yes.” Those gray-blue eyes mesmerized him. So deep, so calm, so comforting.
“Come.” She was dragging him to the mirror, as he had done yesterday, only this time she stood behind him, peeking from around his torso, her arms embracing him from behind. He averted his eyes.
“No, look at yourself.”
He barely dared to breathe as she placed a kiss at the center of his back.
“I see broad shoulders. Strong and capable of bearing great responsibility, of supporting a heavy burden. Sort of like Atlas.” She ran her hands over his shoulders, kneading his protruding trapezius muscles, before sliding down his arms.
“I see muscular arms. Not afraid of hard work. Trained and able to defend yourself and the people you love.”
Her hands were more than a caress. They were a benediction. It enthralled him, to watch her run her hands all over his body. A body he had thought hideous, shameful. Now her hands had dived to his thighs.
“I could say the same about your legs. They are powerful and will carry your child to the ends of the earth.” Now she darted up to his chest. Running her fingers through the smattering of chest hair.
“And your chest. It is so broad and deep. The perfect place for me to rest my head. It makes me feel loved, protected.” Her hands slid down his abdomen. “Flat stomach. Like that of someone not given to excess. Someone who works more than he rests.”
“Your back is quite formidable.” She said while running her hands all over the muscles covering it. “So what if it has hills and valleys, if it is not symmetrical? It is so wide and muscled, narrowing down to your hips, like an inverted pyramid. It is quite beautiful.”
She placed her hands on his hips. “I love your hips. The skin here is so soft, I’d like to place my hands here as you thrust into me when we make love.”
Now her hands inched around. Lower. Wrapped around his straining cock. Rising hard and proud. It surged in her hands and he groaned, helplessly pumping into her hands.
“And this. Well, I think you already know how I feel about this.” She said, kissing the center of his back again while her hands tightened around him. “I love your penis, your... cock. It brings me so much pleasure and it has such a beautiful shape.”
A bark of strained laughter escaped him at that description. Out of all things, he had never thought of his cock as beautiful.
“Oh, don’t laugh. It is true. It is rather spectacular. A cylinder of iron encased in the softest flesh. These veins running up the shaft?” She traced them and he groaned. “They look like stalks of climbing vine twining around a tower.” She ran her thumb over the rim of his crown. “The head is so thick, it seems to bloom, rather like a mushroom.” She collected a drop of liquid from the slit and spread it all around the head.
He was ready to come. Ready to explode in her hands like a callow youth. He had to stop this now, before he disgraced himself.
“I get it.” He panted. “You have thoroughly convinced me. I will never again be ashamed of my body.”
He turned in a lightning move and caught her against him. “Can I take you now, wife?”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes.”
So he turned her in his arms and bent her forward, supporting her arms on the vanity dresser. She didn’t protest, didn’t question the unusual position, only stayed there, waiting for his pleasure. Their gazes locked in the mirror.
He centered his cock in her soft, plump folds, wetting it with her moisture, and sank home. Then he retreated and began thrusting in and out, his movements deep and powerful. He watched their reflection, watched their bodies in the mirror, connected and moving together in exquisite pleasure. It was like watching someone else. Although it was still them. And for the first time, he let go, let go of the past and looked into the future. He accepted they belonged together. Cherished what they were. A perfect unity. Male and female. Hard and soft. His wife, his mate. He reached a hand between her legs...
“No, wait.” Her hand came to grab his wrist. “Not like this.”
He froze. “You don’t like it?”
“I do. But I want you on top of me. On the bed. I want to embrace you, touch you, caress you as you make love to me. Please.”
She didn’t need to ask him twice. Sliding from her sweet, warm depths, he picked her up and strode the few steps to the bed.
“Your wish is my command, my love.”
Depositing her with great care in the center, he laid on top of her, bracing himself on his elbows. Their gazes met as their lower bodies fused with delicious friction.
Her arms circled his torso, and he lowered himself a bit more. She ran her hands over his back, leaving no inch untouched. Her caress meant more than the pleasure of her touch. It was a pledge of acceptance.
He pumped slowly into her, wanting to make this moment last forever. Her exploratory hands slid down the sides to rest on his hips.
“I love this.” She breathed softly in his ear. “Holding your hips. Feeling as they undulate while you are making love to me.”
“Abigail... I love you. I love you so much. You are my home. My salvation. You give me so much pleasure. Yes, touch me, my love. Own me. I’m yours.”
Her hands moved to his buttocks, kneading the hard muscles, pressing, urging him to go harder, faster. He did, increasing the tempo until they were both reaching for bliss. Until she exploded. Her nails dug into the flesh of his buttocks as her pussy tightened in rhythmic spasms around his cock, milking him, wrenching his orgasm from deep within himself. And he followed her. They flew together. His groans of rapture mingled with her softer moans, creating a symphony of bliss.
A symphony they had now learned to play by heart.