It was a bright snowy night, the streets were crowded and cheerful, people chattering everywhere with a loud visible smile on their faces, Almost all houses in the street were a party ground, Some lawns appeared like Christmas, but it was all past that, It was the end of December, the end of the year, it was only a matter of one more hour left then the skies would be decorated with fireworks, the streets illuminated by party bombs if anyone still uses them in the New Year's Eve.
Carl, a tall, robust figure, long beard, and thick moustache almost hiding his mouth, gave the impression of a homeless man to anyone who looked at him, He was such a handsome young fellow, but the homeless costume of his did suit him well, He came out of a party house, tears rolling down his cheeks, but his face was subtle, he didn't show that he was crying, but deep down, he was broke, shattered.
'I slept with Gary' Her girlfriend had said, the voice echoed in his head like a thunder bell, On and on.
Gary? Who the fuck is Gary? Does that even matter? It didn't matter to him, All he knew was that it's over between him and her, It was an estranged relationship between them for months, but it was on the New Year's Eve that it came to light along with many other's laughter in the streets.
He got in his car, he almost thought for a minute or two, What to do? Where to go?
'Fuck it' he muttered to himself, Started the engine, wiped his tears that managed to flow to his beard without turning into a piece of chilled ice, He wiped them off by the heels of his hand and drove away.
Where was he going? Didn't matter as long as it's somewhere far from her, far from her house, He knew that the following year wouldn't bring any luck but the pain in his ass, Talking about luck, he remembered buying two bottles of vodka to celebrate the new year with her, Now he gets to celebrate it all by himself, He pulled over the car, got out, and unwrapped the box on the backseat of the car, the box spilt snow sprays, party bombs, dozens of candles, and two bottles of vodka, He also found a dozen of beer.
Beer? Have it, Carl, You deserve it but finish the vodka first, He shifted the vodka bottle and beer to the front passenger seat and began driving, one hand on the wheels, and the other one holding vodka.
'What are you smiling at? Bitch!' he swore gazing upon a photo of Ingrid Bergman.
The chick from those old movies, He always liked her, There was a time when he even masturbated for her in the same old car, for which he didn't feel happy, It felt weird for him somehow, He never stopped admiring her but did stop jerking for her, Was it because Ingrid isn't cum worthy?
No, because he respected and admired her so much, that jerking off to her felt odd.
'I am sorry Ingrid' He said to the photo, taking a big gulp of the vodka, groaned for the burn that the vodka did in his throat. 'Sorry that I called you bitch' One more gulp, and another one, The bottle was empty in a matter of a few large gulps, He had been drinking like a bear rather than a man.
He threw the bottle out of the window, His hands reached for Ingrid's photo, touched her lips over the photo, he was touching and feeling as if he was touching her real lips, He smiled, Even he had no idea, what that smile meant, He reached for another bottle of vodka, but this time, the road wasn't straight, the wind wasn't warm, his eye wasn't sharp, his hands weren't steady, A bright light beamed up as if the sun appeared out of the curve, It was a truck glowing a high beam light,
'Oh shit' He yapped as he steered hard right. He was well aware of the fact that it was a narrow bitchy curvy road, and sides are nothing but woods, In the darkness, they were spooky woods.
The car hit the sidebars of the road, knocked them out, the truck came drifting, wobbling, and the car was out of its way, rolled and rolled like a doughnut running down the stairs, The glasses shattered, seat belt, party bombs, snow sprays and beer, floated and crashed against everything, For Carl, it felt as if he was in a car in the space, floating with the lack of gravity, No, the gravity was calling for him, and he was going there.
A river, a small stream of water running above his head, the car was upside down, half sunk in the river, half on the river bed. Water filled in, wetted his hair, and beard. It was still dark for Carl to expect rescue, He could expect rescue if the truck driver had a big heart and called for 911 to report the car crash, Only then will they come looking for him. So, the question is will he? Carl didn't have a mobile, He didn't care to own one.
'Don't disturb him, Paula.' A gentle sweet voice spoke, The voice was so soothing and calming that it almost sounded like nightingale speaking, Carl pressured his eyelids to open, Beautiful, ample, mature women in a maroon silk robe presented herself.
'Oh god, you're awake.' She said, but Carl couldn't hear a thing, All he saw was her coral smooth lips waving, and her perfectly organized teeth shone, white as a pearl, neatly organized in the mouth of that lady, She looked tall, as tall as his girlfriend, His ex-girlfriend would be a more appropriate term since the new year.
Carl found himself on a bed, a blanket pulled up till his tummy, his bare body exposed to the moist air. The room was small, on the left side, there was an enormous shelf almost hiding the entire wall, The shelf had a plethora of books organized but dusted, It looked like no one ever stepped inside this room except for Carl in a very long time, behind him was the wall that smelled of old books and wood dust.
Maybe the entire room smelled like books and wood dust, but the smell from the wall was stronger than anywhere in the room, On the right, across the room, there was a table on which lay a Royal typewriter, a study lamp, a big book like a brick, dusted, almost covered with cobwebs. Someone in this house once was a writer — is all Carl could detect, Right next to the table was a door left ajar, The ground was of wood, the ceiling was of wood and so di the wall and rest of the room, and even house perhaps.
A cabin perhaps or an old lodge?
'Where am I?' Carl asked as he tried to sit up on the bed, He felt his cock rubbing against the soft part of the blanket underneath and realized that he was completely naked, 'how did you find me? where was I?' he piled up his questions to that lady.
'It's okay, It's okay.' she smiled, 'I am Olivia, I and my son happened to cross that way and we found the wrecked car by the river. You were inside it, I believe you are aware that you had an accident, but you seemed to have all the luck, given that you are still alive in all one piece.' she sat on the chair on the bedside to his right.
Carl sat up and sensed tremendous pain in his ass, and beneath, His upper body was well and fine, while his lower body was an internal mess.
'How long have I been here?' he asked, 'what is today's…date?' he scanned the room for a calendar first, found nothing, Searched for a clock, found nothing, The room was filled with books and books and nothing else, And yeah, the royal typewriter, That's pretty much everything he could find.
She held his hands, her skin was so smooth, shining, that he felt an odd breeze on his skin, he looked back and looked right into her brown eyes, Something surprised him, It was the women herself, she surprised her on how much she reminds him of Hayley Atwell.
Olivia here couldn't be no less than forty, her bosom was shaggy but busty that he could tell just by the look of her silk robe, He could also tell that she wasn't wearing a bra underneath.
'Someone saved your ass, and you're thinking of fucking her. aren't you?' He was swearing himself, except it all was a whisper in his head.
'Is he awake?' another women's voice came from the hallway. A young woman, no less than 25 appeared near the door in her camisole through which her ample firm breast was pointing, and jeans that enveloped her long legs, and a flip flop carrying her well maintained feet, Just by the look of her, she exhibited a strong relevance with Gemma Arterton.
'Oh, yes honey' Olivia said, turning back to her, the young women came and stood beside her, gnawing at him, one hand on Olivia's shoulder, and another hand in her jean pocket, 'and this is Paula, My daughter.' She said to him and touched her daughter's hand on her shoulders.
'What's your name?' Paula asked sharply.
'Um…I am Carl…Carl Bernard' He answered.
'Carl?' Paula repeated, sounding amused, 'even the name?' She looked at Olivia.
'That's one…odd… coincidence, honey' She remarked.
Carl was puzzled. He had no idea what they were talking about, No, Wait, Carl? Yes, he remembered an old memory, an odd one too, "Carl? As in the mother-fucker?" a drunk guy at the bar had said and laughed, Carl couldn't make anything of it. whatever the inside joke or reference joke it was, he didn't understand, and this seemed like the same scenario, but in-depth.
'What…coincidence?' he asked.
'Bring some soup for him.' Olivia said to her daughter, She fled leaving him and Olivia alone for a while again.
'Well, my husband's name is Carl Herbert.' She said, pulling a small box that contained pills, Pills in dozens as if they were all bought fresh for Carl himself, 'and it's so strange that you also look a lot like him, Two days ago, you looked like a homeless man, who had an accident, but without those beards and moustache, you look a lot like him,' She picked up a pill, handed it over to him, poured him a glass of water, 'for the pain' She said.
'So, where is your husband?' he asked, swallowing the pills, and washing them down with the water.
'Leukemia.' She said rather plainly, 'two years ago.'
'I am sorry.' he said and sat in silence for a minute or two, 'Was he a writer of some sort?' he asked pointing at the typewriter.
She smiled as her pale cheeks turned pink all of sudden, She looked down; her smile transformed into a slight giggle.
'Mom?' Paula's voice reached the room along with her and froze after looking at her mother giggle as if she saw some magic, 'what are you laughing at?'
'Oh, yes.' Olivia responded as she got the bowl from her, stirred it while she began speaking again, 'yes, he was a writer, He was well known for his novel called the Red Delicious' She passed the bowl to him, He received it and took a sip of the soup from the large spoon.
'Red delicious?' he repeated, 'has a nice ring to it, but I am sorry that I am not a voracious reader or anything.'
'Well, the novel was so famous and ridiculed at the same time, anyway, that did put food in our plate, But my husband was so pestered and harassed, that we moved here to the outskirts of the town, almost into the woods.'
That was a good promotion, it worked and kindled the curiousness for Carl to read the book.
'What was the novel about?' he asked.
'Are you serious that you haven't heard anything about it? not even the conflict, and stuff about the book?' Paula spoke.
'I am sorry, No.' He shrugged.
'It's okay.' Olivia said, 'the novel was about…'
'If you have a copy of it, can I get them?' he rather asked than said, 'I can pay for them, where's my…wallet?' He looked around the room once again, this time searching for his dress.
Paula walked to table on the right side of the room and fetched the book from the table that has been resting there for so long that, upon picking it up left a clean space the size of the book, surrounded by dust and cobwebs, She patted, blew, and dusted them out, It was a huge book and for a fresh reader like Carl, it may take an eternity before he could finish reading the book.
Carl turned to the last page, that is the first thing he did, he noticed that the book was 1800 page long, And if that was going to be his first novel, it better be good, if not, Carl will hate the idea of reading, Forever.
'Umm…if you don't mind, can anyone give me some idea on what I might be finding here, not the plot, but something like an overview perhaps.' He said.
'It's, it's about a family, living all alone in a mountain, They don't have any contact with the outside world whatsoever, And they have different ways of looking at the life…' Olivia began.
'It's an erotica…with incest' Paula interrupted, 'as simple as it is.'
Olivia put her tongue out, expressing a bit of gawkiness, 'Paula?' she glared at her.
'What?' Paula responded, She went back out to the hallway, leaving them alone once again.
Carl was confused, rather than shocked, Olivia showed the awkwardness that has been building, She decided to leave.
'Okay, Mr Bernard. Finish the soup, take rest, and feel better, will see you by dinner' She stood and put the box beside the bed, making it easy for Carl to reach for it, 'call when you need something' She then walked away.
Carl continued sipping the soup, spoon by spoon. He made a leap, curled down, and put the bowl down, Sat up straight again and stared at the novel cover with a huge words RED DELICIOUS and CARL HERBERT with two hands, holding a half-bitten apple on the two sides, One pale soft hand, and another rough hand with a speck of hair, what looked like a male hand holding an apple and the female hand holding the male hand.
'There's a beginning for everything' He told to himself and opened the book to begin reading, But the entire time, he missed many things, many changes in the dazzlement that he is still even alive, He noticed that his face has become weightless, not itching, and nothing. Probably that is the first thing he noticed once he woke up, That Olivia or Paula shaved his beard and moustache, leaving nothing but his clean, smooth, shaved face.
He began reading, He wasn't aware of at what time he started or how long it has been, but he was sure that it seemed so long that the room got even darker, and the light shone even brighter, the writer wrote this book in this very room, without windows, Dedication? yes, One could call that.
Carl was almost past ten chapters until something made him stop, He felt like pissing, and he hasn't used his leg since the point of the accident, He tried to move his leg, he did, but with great pain and effort, He threw the blanket away from him and looked at his leg.
For a minute he almost pissed on the bed, His legs now were quite a mess, all bruises, and his left knee had a significant injury, that it looked like someone hammered his kneecap, His dick lay there on his right thigh pathetically, He didn't want to look at his legs anymore, he pulled the blanket back till his waist, He now knew that he can't sleep for a few nights, not after watching his legs in that crippled condition.
He is a cripple now, just like his legs.
'Olivia?' he called, 'are you there?'
He heard the sound of her footsteps approaching, creaking and cracking for every step on the wooden floor.
'Yes,' she asked anxiously, 'what happened?'
'Oh, nothing to fear' He assured, 'Um, I just want to take a piss, Can you point me to the bathroom?'
'And what makes you think you can go to the bathroom with those legs Bernard?'
'Okay, Carl, It reminds me of my husband, The name…'
'Well, Bernard is fine. Sorry about that.'
'Oh no, I miss calling his name, Carl, Carl, Sounds nice, Carl.'
'Okay then' He smiled, 'bathroom?'
'Shoot, I forgot' She disappeared back in the hallway. After some rattling and rolling sound of cutlery, the falling sound of mop or some stick, she came back with a wheelchair, She stretched it out, wiped the dust off, and she came closer to him.
'Wait' He said, 'you do know that I am naked right?'
'Of course, I do, I undressed you, how could I not remember that.'
'Then I might need something to cover my…you know'
'You can't actually, Your left pelvic bone and waist bone is severely damaged, Wrapping a towel could cause tremendous pain, You wouldn't want that, trust me, besides, I have seen you naked, cleaned your body for two days, I didn't bother at all.'
That answer shut Carl up, He didn't have any words to speak next. She put his one arm around his shoulders and lifted him, and used her other hand near his thighs, lifted him and made him sit on the wheelchair as carefully as a woman could, She rolled the wheelchair out of the room, went left to the hallway.
'How did you know all these medical things' he asked.
'I was a nurse before my husband wrote that novel' she giggled innocently.
In the right of the hallway, he saw a door, the main door to the house, and the bathroom remained the last to the left of the hallway, She made him sit on the toilet and stood beside him, watching him, He was in an awkward situation, The last thing he would want him to have an erection and make the situation even worse.
'Can I tell you something?' She said, adjusting her robe by the back of her neck.
'Does it have to be now?' he said, looking away, trying to make it less awkward
'I don't mean it as an insult or a compliment, just a remark, Your penis is not fat as my husband's but, it still is longer than him, bigger, In a normal condition, You know, without an erection' She said, looking at his face, while he was looking somewhere over his shoulder.
Once he was done, she lifted him again, put him in the wheelchair, and rode back to the room, which once was her husband's room, And she lifted him again and put him on the bed, gently and left the room after announcing that the dinner would be ready in a few minutes.
Shortly, she came back with a plate filled with beans, mashed potatoes, and even some carrot stew, They were all delicious, yes, Like the Red delicious, He had his supper; his belly was full, Olivia stayed while he was having his dinner.
'You don't have a phone?' she asked, 'or was it in the car that I missed it somehow?'
'No, I don't have one.'
'We don't either, So, you want me to call someone? Your family? Friends? Wife?'
'I had a girlfriend; she broke up on year's eve, I was drunk and here I am, Other than her, I don't have anybody' He shrugged, 'I do have a friend, maybe you can call him using a public telephone or something and let him know?'
'Sure' She said, 'Give me his number'
He wrote them down in a piece of paper which Olivia picked it from the table behind the typewriter.
'-Okay' she said and stared at the piece of paper for a good long minute.
He sat and ate in silence, while she sat nearby and watched him eat, Once he was done, she took the plate and went.
Later that night, Carl almost found peace with the pain, bed, and the new location, until he was aroused from his deep sleep by a gentle touch of wet cloth, He woke up to see what it was, Olivia sat beside him a big bowl of water a plain white piece of cloth rubbing and cleaning his arms.
'It's okay' she hushed him. She was exhibiting a motherly love towards Carl, Her hand ran through his hair, smiled, and stared in his eye like a mother would do before kissing his son a good night.
But somehow, the effect of the book, by that point he was a hundred pages past, and there was a lot of incest in the book, He couldn't jerk off, so, he had to close the book and sleep on it, and the result was a boner, The dreams were wild, and he had a boner now, He was sure that Olivia would have noticed and pretended that she didn't.
She wiped his arms, then his chest, neck, and she pulled down the blanket exposing his hard dick, and the crippled legs, He was embarrassed, just a son would be when he was caught masturbating by my mom or even simpler, Caught with an erection by his mom.
Her face went pink upon seeing his erect dick, almost standing like a post, She tried not to look at it for a moment, She put the wet cloth on his tummy, cleaned, then moved it to his abdomen, Her thumb was on the verge of touching his penis, Carl tried hard to not make it worse, not make it twitch or anything, he tried to get rid of the erection as soon as possible, He was thinking of war, accident, new year, truck, Nothing seemed to help him calm his stick down.
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