The Family BBC - Chapter 9 - Sex Stories

The Family BBC - Chapter 9

... next day. Leland lay as if dead. We had wiped his cum off of his body with a damp hand towel before covering him up and slinking into our bed. George actually checked on him before answering the door. He told the manager to charge another day on his credit card, which resolved that trivial event.

I called home and told Peg that her father and I were taking a little holiday, and "There had better not be any blood on the walls when I get back." I heard her audibly gulp before I ended the call.

Leland slept all day, wincing in his sleep.

"We should call for an ambulance." George pulled out his phone.

"We'll be charged for it, because he can't pay. If he was in worse pain, I would drive him to an ER but not deep in downtown. Let him sleep."

He finally roused around dusk while I opened several cartons of Chinese food which I had driven out to pick up. George had offered, but I refused to be alone with Leland in a locked hotel room. I had won a victory, but my damage would never fully heal.

"Ohhhhh." He groaned and had difficulty opening his eyes. "Wha'?" He looked around. "Where the fuck is this?"

"It's the Shade Palm, Leland." I told him. "You've been unconscious all day."

"How the fuck- AAHH!" He tried to get up.

"I was just going to tell you. Don't move! Remember the crazy person who kicked you? He might have busted your gut."

George added. "We drove you to ER, last night, but they were too full to admit you right away. We decided this was the ...

... best place for you convalesce until we could get you back to a hospital.

"Oh, no. Hospitals eat yer money!"

"You're eating our money, at the moment." I scolded. "I'm not expecting your thanks."

"Don't you get Medicare?"

The large, prone black man scowled, muttering, "Too young, too black, and too much a risk."

"I think he means, because he's getting his wife's social security, he has to wait until he's 65 for Medicare."

"It works that way?"

"It works anyway that keeps poor folk from git'n help!" Leland winced from his exclamation. He winced worse when he chuckled. "Look at us, like we some gangstas in love."

George started to explain. "Yeah, about last night-"

"Don't excite him, Husband." I used my stern voice. It had strengthened over the last few weeks. "Leland, I'll feed you in bed if you're up for it." I offered a box of mu-shu pork, a compostable fork sticking out. "You threw up a lot before we got you here."

"Yeah, I'm hun-gary, but guts feel right kicked, like you said."

"You don't remember the perp?" George was suddenly glad I'd interrupted him.

"SHeeet, last thing I know was stumblin' down 6th avenue with a liter of liquor in my hand."

"Here, try a bite." I sat careful not to rock his bed, and forked a morsel of sauce, pork, and cabbage.

He nearly bit off a tine with it, but he chewed slowly. "Give it a sec to work down." He looked hungrily at the box.

"You got mugged, Leland." My husband told him. "And kicked - at least ...