Therapy after Surgery {Redman} {MF Rom caution}

Author's note: Today's couple has a fantasy life that 
might not appeal to some viewers. Mature adults often 
act out childhood realities and fantasies. In loving 
relationships, the needs of one's partner should be 
preeminent.

Comments and corrections can be sent to 
redman@seductive.com. Intended for mature readers 
only. No one under age may be admitted. 


Therapy After Surgery


It was wonderful to have my wife home for the first 
time since her hysterectomy. The operation had gone 
well and she was recovering fine. Still, her mother 
and sisters fawn over her in such a way that she feels 
more comfortable staying at her mother's house while 
recovering than at our home. 

Besides, apparently a hysterectomy invokes deep 
feminine magic requiring only those bodies that have 
been purified by estrogen to assist in the healing 
process. At least, that the way it feels to me 
sometimes.

That's stating the case a bit too harshly I know, but 
it's been a long week and a half and I've missed her 
terribly. It's good to see her in our home again, to 
touch her and hold her more intimately than it's been 
possible to do either in the hospital or at her 
mother's.

"You look great, honey! I can't believe you're walking 
around so well already."

"That's only because of the pain pills, believe me. 
When I tried to give off of them a couple of nights 
ago, I hurt like hell the next morning."

"Here, let me get that for you. Why don't you sit down 
and save your strength?"

"I'm OK, Greg. Just let me do what I can while I have 
a little energy. I can't tell you how good it feels to 
be in my own home again, surrounded by my own things. 
I just want to touch everything once while I'm here."

"Why don't you just stay? Don't go back! I'll take off 
for the next couple of days and take care of you 
and..."

"You already took off for the surgery and while I was 
in the hospital. You need to work. And you have to 
take care of our son, driving him every damn place in 
the world with his busy schedule. You don't have time 
to take care of me too. You know we've discussed 
this."

"I know. I didn't mean to upset you, really! I know 
you have to stay over there. That doesn't mean I won't 
miss you so much though. I miss not having my wife at 
home!"

"I know, baby! It's OK. Just hold me for a while."

Later, when she was tired, I put her on our bed for a 
nap. She took her clothes off and let me hold her 
naked body reverently. Her pale skin was radiant 
against the deep violet sheets with the black flowers. 
They were her favorite sheets. 

I didn't dare remove my clothes because even after ten 
days of self-abuse, I still had a raging hard-on just 
looking at her.

But I couldn't not touch her. My hands wandered 
familiar, well-explored territories that I have come 
to love so much: the undersides of her heavy breasts, 
her forehead, her temples, her elbows and the 
prominent cocoa colored birthmark on her side. I gave 
her birthmark a sweet little kiss and called her "my 
little colored girl." That made her giggled for the 
first time, just as I had hoped.

"Now let me rest a minute, dear. I'm so tired all of 
the sudden."

"Of course, honey. Just rest. As long as you like."

As I made to rise from the bed, she stopped me with 
her hand on my arm.

"Greg, before you go, just touch me there, please?"

"Are you sure it's OK? Can I?"

"Of course. Just be gentle."

As tenderly as I can, I lightly lay my hand on my 
wife's incision. It's a fierce, ragged wound that runs 
all the way across the lower portion of her belly, 
just on top of the Cesarean scar where our son was 
taken from her womb twelve years ago. I had expected 
this one to look the same, but it was longer and was a 
more violent attack against her body than I had 
expected.

Even so, it was a part of her now. With my hand on her 
belly, I made my peace with her wound. It would be 
inseparable from the woman I love. I hadn't come to 
love it yet, like I did every other part of her, but 
it wasn't the enemy anymore.

To her credit, my wife indulged me for as long as I 
needed. Then she corrected my misunderstanding.

"Not there, silly. Touch me lower. Please, I need to 
feel your fingers touch me."

Oh, so that was what she meant. With a small laugh at 
my own foolishness, I lowered my touch to lightly 
brush my wife's precious vulva. It was the most sacred 
place in the world to me, the place of all my deepest 
desires and richest fantasies. It was also a familiar 
friend and I had missed it so much the last ten days.

This was no backseat grope, though. She sighed, but it 
was not the sigh of the aroused. It was the sigh of a 
woman who thought never to be touched again for the 
rest of her life. For a moment, I almost thought that 
she honestly believed that I wouldn't love her once 
her ovaries were removed.

"That's enough. It feels nice though. Do I still feel 
like a woman, Greg?" she asked softly.

"Of course, you do Marjorie! You're still the most 
beautiful, sexiest woman in the world to me."

"I still feel like a woman to me, too. I was 
surprised. I thought I'd feel like a man after the 
surgery," she whispered, as though making some secret 
confession.

"Don't you think I knew that that was what you were 
thinking. You're still my wife, Marjorie. I'm going to 
love you forever, much less after something like 
this."

She had tears in her eyes. Maybe I had reassured her 
for at least the next five minutes. After that, she'd 
probably need me to tell her the same thing again.

"OK. You've done your job. Now let me rest for a 
little, will you."

I wandered out the door, leaving it cracked just a bit 
in case she needs me. I piddle around, cleaning 
anything up that won't make noise. I call over to our 
son's best friend's house just to make sure everything 
was OK. I told him that his mother was sleeping, so 
why didn't he stay for at least another couple of 
hours. There'd be plenty of time for him to spend with 
her before she has to go.

Later, when she calls me into the room, she is 
apparently more rested. I immediately catch the 
mischievous look in her eye. I get a little hard every 
time I see that look.

"Come here, Daddy. Get under the covers and tell your 
little girl a story."

"Marjorie, are you sure? It's so soon."

"Maybe it was that estrogen shot they gave me, but 
I've been horny for days now. Please, do it! Just be 
gentle."

"OK, but tell me the moment it feels uncomfortable, 
please."

"I will. You know how much I hate pain. If I bite your 
ear off, it hurts too much."

I knew she was joking. Still, my ears had smarted more 
than once.

"Where do you want to go today, little girl?" I asked 
her in my best "Daddy" voice. 

My hand reached down and gently touched her vagina, 
slowly starting to play lightly along the tender lips. 
Really, this was not so very different when I thought 
of it. In her stories, Marjorie was always such a 
little girl that I had to treat her gently.

"I want to go to the pool, Daddy."

"We can go to the pool sweetheart, but you'll have to 
wear the new suit I bought you last week. You know the 
one."

"The one that's too small in the bottom? Oh Daddy, my 
cheeks keep popping out of that one."

"That's why Daddy bought it, baby girl. But don't 
worry, Daddy will always be right beside you to pull 
it down whenever it rides up on your precious bottom."

"Those ladies over there that are watching us think 
that you pull down my bathing suit way too much, Daddy."

"What do they know? They probably never had a good 
Daddy like yours that would pull their bottoms down 
every time it was needed."

When Marjorie didn't respond except to groan, I knew 
that she was beginning to get into the feel of the 
story. Her head was back. Her eyes were closed, but I 
could see the rapid eye movement under the lids. 
Surprisingly, I felt a little moisture in her vagina, 
so I continued to stroke and encourage it.

"See those women over there, though. The ones with the 
sunglasses. They're looking at us too, even though you 
can't see their eyes. They're the ones that had good 
Daddies and they're remembering what it felt like when 
their Daddy touched them too."

That drew a moan. That was always one of Marjorie's 
favorites. I spoke a little longer, elaborating on 
what the grown women were remembering and how I was 
going to do the same things to my little girl just as 
soon as we got home from the pool. I could tell Marj 
was getting even more excited. It worried me, with her 
incision. It inspired me, with my denial-based 
arousal.

"Somewhere different. You decide!" she asked in a 
strained, raspy voice.

I had to think quick. "Let's go to the zoo. Do you 
want to visit the animals today? The elephants? The 
horses?"

Marjorie just shook her head, frustrated. I had to 
pull an old favorite out of the hat, and quickly.

"Let's just let you climb this little fence and stand 
in front of Daddy watching the animals then. I love 
you're little dress today, sweetheart. Daddy's girl 
looks so pretty in her new dress."

This brought the moan that I was searching so 
frantically for. Now I could relax and get into it 
with her again.

"I hope you didn't wear any panties, like I told you. 
If you did Daddy might have to take them off you and 
whip your little hiney right here in front of 
everyone."

She was getting much closer. Even though my little 
girl's spankings are tender things, I didn't really 
feel up to it right now. I wanted to be sweet to my 
wife today.

"See, when your climbing the fence in front of me like 
that I can reach underneath your dress and touch you. 
Nobody even knows it, even though there are hundreds 
of people all around us. Nobody can even see your 
Daddy touching you sweetheart. It's our nasty little 
secret."

And that was enough for Marj. Thankfully it wasn't a 
violent cum. I had hoped that her body would prevent 
her from doing that. I had been prepared to stop it, 
even at the risk of loosing an ear.

But after she came, she relaxed more than I had ever 
seen before. It was obviously a release that she 
needed. Knowing my wife, she was probably worried the 
whole time that she would never be able to cum again 
after the surgery. She's a worrier, but I still love 
her.

"You're a good man, Greg. And a good Daddy. When I 
come home to stay, we'll have to visit the zoo more 
often."