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When we got home I had to carry her in, crying the whole time, and set her down on the couch. Over the next 45 minutes she talked, I listened, she cried, I held, I even had to take her to the bathroom a couple of times. She even managed to beg one more drink out of me threatening to go “crazy” if I didn’t give it to her.About 12:30 she asked me to help her to the bathroom again. Like before I kinda shuffled behind her supporting her under her arms to keep her from falling or drunk staggering into the wall. She would hold onto my hands like some sort of weird parallel bars. This time however she moved my hands and covered her breasts with them. Almost like it was a natural thing for me to do and for some reason I needed help. She got in the bathroom, shut the door and I stood outside contemplating what the hell that was all about. After a few minutes she opened the door took a few steps and fell up against the frame. Laughing, “I think I better go to bed!”The closest bed was actually. He put his head in his hands and sighed heavily as he tried not to think about Melanie. He supposed he could have her if he put his mind to it. After all, he’d had sex with three women last week that would never have given him the time of day before his accident. Now he knew all he needed to do was think about it and Melanie would strip naked for him and take his cock in her mouth until he came. But he didn’t want to do that. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to fuck her. He did. Any man would want to. He just didn’t feel right about taking her the way he knew he could. After he finished on the toilet he picked up his pants and fastened them. Then he opened the stall door and stepped up to the sinks and washed his hands as he stared at himself in the mirror once more. He was more relaxed now but he hated the way he looked. He was overweight and balding and his glasses made him look exactly like what he was, a middle aged insurance adjustor who spent too much time at a desk and who had.
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