Seven Cheers For Sara Pt 02

A distressing accident, a happy outcome...

Sara had time to do a lot of thinking on the chartered bus taking the cheerleaders back home the next day. She wondered what was implied in her mother's request, and concluded that it needed some person-to-person discussion between the three of them. At the same time, she realized that her thoughts were mingled with her memories, particularly of the last night and morning, and she was becoming excited -- she could feel a warm damp spot growing between her legs.

She started with her mother, who told her "you know, dearest, how you were attracted to Daddy, how thrilled you were to be able to explore him in the shower, how disappointed you were at the time when he didn't try to penetrate you, and how ecstatic you were when you finally got to fuck him on Saturday night." Sara nodded agreement. "Daddy was similarly bowled over by you -- he told me it was one of the hardest things he has ever done, not to fuck you when he heard you were still a virgin and that his big cock would hurt or injure you. He loved you, he loves you, and I love you!"

"I know all that," replied Sara, "and I appreciate that this is a loved and loving household to grow up in, but I don't understand moving from there to sleepovers."

Coach Funston joined in the conversation. "You know how we've always taken a sceptical attitude to the concept of 'that is wrong' when it comes to human relationships. There are people who say that it's wrong to have intercourse unless the intention or possibility is to conceive offspring. There are people who say that it's wrong to have oral sex, or anal sex, or even doggie-style sex. There are people who say that it's wrong to have sex with anyone other than your married partner, of the opposite sex. There are people who say it's wrong to have sex at all. There are people who say that it's wrong to have sex with another person of the same sex as yourself. There are people who say it's wrong to masturbate. There even used to be people (maybe there still are!) who said that it's wrong to have sex except at night-time."

He paused, searching for the right words, then went on "Mary and I have always rejected all these ideas of 'wrong' -- there is nothing wrong in sex, if it is honest, and open, and pleasurable, and mutual! That's what we've always tried to teach you, to instil in you and your brother. I love your mother very dearly, but I don't own her; she loves me just as passionately, but she doesn't own me. I fucked you the other night, and morning, which gave me as great pleasure as it gave you, but it didn't make me, or I hope you, feel guilty?"

Sara shook her head emphatically, and cried "No, no in the slightest! I'm just finding it a little strange...so let me ask you, Mummy, why do you want to have a sleepover with me?"

Mary paused for a moment, then responded. "I have loved you from the moment I saw you, new-born, and I have loved you all the time I have watched you and guided you growing into the mature, athletic and beautiful woman you are. I love you now -- I want to love you physically, to hold you, to hug you, to caress you, to kiss you, to lick you -- to love you every way a woman can love another woman! That doesn't mean I don't love your father and his fabulous long cock, just as I know your father loves you, and me, and wants to fuck us both!"

Sara paused to think, then replied "whew! that's a lot to think about...I have to get my head around the idea of responding sexually to Mummy -- as she says, hugging, kissing, caressing, licking. Particularly licking! -- I will never forget my first experience of licking, with Daddy. It has to be a mutual thing. Just will take a little time to get used to the idea, but I will say I find it attractive... Meanwhile I have the big home game next Saturday to prepare for -- we have several new cheer routines that we are working on. And I have two men from the initiation party, Bob and Harold, that I promised to enjoy. But I will think about all this, I promise!

"One other thing I want," Mary said excitedly, "I want to have the pleasure of watching Daddy fuck you, up close! I've always wondered what it looks like, that huge cock plunging in and out of cunt lips stretched tightly around it. I'd like to see it in your asshole too." She blushed, then asked "but tell me, why do you still have Bob and Harold to enjoy?"

"I was fucking Bob cowgirl-style, facing him, and he suddenly gave me an almighty SMACK on my ass with his hand. It hurt like hell!! I've never before suffered anything like that from you or anybody. My attendant stopped the proceedings and made Bob apologise and kiss better the mark on my ass. He was so embarassed he lost his erection, so I promised him another chance...don't know if he'll take me up on it."

"That makes me really angry!" said Sara's father. "I wonder if he has a future on the team..."

"Please don't punish Bob on my account" pleaded Sara, "because he's already suffered embarassment in his team-mates' eyes, and I'm sure the story has gone around the whole team."

"What about Harold?" he asked her.

"In my blindfold choosing I chose Harold to go first because he had an incredibly hard cock, harder than I've ever seen or felt. I wanted to have him in either my cunt or my asshole. But damn it all! -- he drew Oral, so I (and he) had to settle for a blow-job. He took it in good part, and he then had to watch all the other guys fucking my lights out. He came up to me at the end and asked if he could have a fuck like all the others, and again he was hard as a brick! I had to say no 'cos all the others might have wanted another go, and I had to save myself for 'my coach' -- who I didn't know then would be you, Daddy! So I grasped his cock and gave it a little suck (he came all over my hand!) and I promised him an all-nighter sometime soon, as my first. Anyway Harold is a really nice guy, I like him a lot, and I'm going to invite him to sleepover here with me next Saturday night and into Sunday. Mummy can meet him then. I'm sure she'll like him! I hope so!"

The discussion ended, with Sara having lots to think about through the busy week of practices and conditioning. Bob begged off the promise of another engagement, still feeling embarassed at his violence, his blunder. Sara wasn't disappointed. Harold, on the other hand, accepted Sara's invitation with alacrity, sweeping her up into a great big hug! On Saturday afternoon the game was going well, the home crowd was enthusiastic, the team was winning, when suddenly disaster struck. Harold recovered a fumbled ball and was running for the goal line when he was tackled simultaneously by three opposing players. He managed to hold on to the ball as they all collapsed in a heap, Harold on the bottom. A fourth opposing player, no doubt wanting to avoid a penalty for unnecessary roughness (piling on), leaped over the tangle of players but in doing so he tramped hard with his cleated boot on the back of Harold's left hand. The play stopped, the players untangled themselves from the pile and stood up.

Except Harold. He lay there, unconscious.

"Oh my God!!" shrieked Sara, "what has happened? Somebody help him!!" She had to wait, helplessly, by the side of the field, as trainers and attendants ran out to Harold's inert body. After a few minutes the huddle of attendants signalled, and the injury wagon (a modified golf cart, equipped with a stretcher) was called onto the field. Sara was frantic with worry, crying "can't I do anything??"

A coach comforted her, saying "we just have to let the professionals attend to Harold -- there will be an announcement in a few minutes, after he's off the field, to tell us what's going on."

The game resumed, before a more silent, sober crowd. The looked-for announcement came, but offered little comfort: "Harold Prentice has suffered undetermined injuries. He has been transported by ambulance to Brookfield Hospital." The wail of the ambulance siren confirmed his words.

The game continued and finished, all in a blur for Sara who was consumed with worry -- among her tumult of emotions she was beginning to suspect that what she was experiencing was the beginning of love.

She ran to her father, who was huddled with the other coaches. "Please can you take me to the hospital?? Harold is very dear to me, he's from out of town and has nobody, no family here. I have to be with him!" Coach Funston caught the frantic note in Sara's plea and guessed at the emotions conveyed. He promised to get her there as soon as he could, and arranged with the other coaches that he would be the team's representative and spokesperson at the hospital.

They met with medical staff in the Emergency ward, but learned little because there was little to be told. "We're worried about swelling in the brain, so Harold has been put into an induced coma," the doctor told them. "We'll be able to assess that after 24 hours. As far as other injuries are concerned, he has some broken bones in his left hand, a badly dislocated right shoulder, broken right wrist, and three cracked ribs. That's what we've been able to find so far -- we've scheduled an MRI scan for later tonight. That must have been one hell of a hit that the poor guy suffered!"

"Thank you doctor," said Coach Funston. "Where can we wait? To keep control of messaging, any statements to the press should come through us, as the team's official representatives. We (or at least one of us) will be here as long as it takes, until Harold is out of danger."

Father and daughter were shown to a waiting room that had sofas and chairs that were at best not too uncomfortable, and the long wait began. A reporter from the local paper was shown in to them and briefed. Coach Funston drafted a brief message and texted it to the team's office, with directions that it be texted to all members of the team and staff. He asked that there be no visits until further notice, and briefly outlined Harold's condition.

The wait continued, hours long. "Daddy I'm getting cold...I need some clothes. Could Mummy bring me a change of clothes, pants, fresh underwear, a shirt and sweater? I don't look very 'official' with bare legs and midriff, in my cheerleader costume."

"You may not look official, but I must say you look delightful, ravishing! I'm afraid this is not the sleepover with Harold you were planning -- this really sucks! I'll get onto Mummy right away." He reached for his cellphone and quickly filled her in on the situation. "We're at the hospital, and I think Sara is determined to stay here until she sees this situation through." He glanced at Sara, who nodded her resolve. Mummy and Daddy were both beginning to realize the strength of Sara's affection for Harold...

Clothes were produced, a small suitcase, along with toiletries and personal care items that Sara's mother realized she would need. The wait continued, through the sleeping hours ...

Breakfast, in the hospital cafeteria, was a cheerless event undertaken in shifts, ensuring that one of them was always available. Coach Funston took a phone call mid-morning, then said "I have to go to the office for a meeting and some stuff. I'll leave you in charge -- phone me if anything happens." He left, ensuring that the hospital knew that Sara was the team's official representative, responsible for any charges to the team.

The wait continued...lunch didn't happen, because there was nobody there to sub for Sara. Mid-afternoon dragged by, and then a different doctor appeared. "You are, I presume, Sara Funston, the team's representative?" Sara nodded. He went on, "I'm Doctor Fowler, a Neurologist on staff here. We've been treating Harold Prentice with Dexamethasone, and I'm happy to tell you that his brain swelling is subsiding very well, so we're bringing him out of his coma. He should be awake soon, although he'll be pretty groggy from the painkillers he's on. And the other good news is that the MRI scan last night turned up no further injuries."

Sara was overjoyed. "Doctor thank you! That's wonderful news!! When can I see him??"

Sara learned that it would take a further hour or two for Harold to be even partly awake, and that visits at first would have to be brief. She texted her father with the good news that Harold was recovering, and would be awake 'soon'. They agreed on a statement to be issued to team members and staff, and to the press. No visitors yet.

All waits do come to an end, if you are patient enough, and Sara's patient vigil was rewarded at last; Harold was released from intensive care and taken to orthopedics where he was given a private room on the team's dime -- usual in the case of serious injuries. Sara was informed, and she immediately texted her father with the good news. She hurried to Harold's bedside. The sight was a shock -- bruised, swollen, obviously in pain, Harold was propped up in bed, eyes closed, with multiple tubes and wires attached to him. His right arm was strapped across his chest, his head was bandaged, and his left hand was encased in a cast. Monitors measured his heartbeat and blood pressure.

"Harold can you hear me? It's Sara. Don't try to talk, just nod or shake your head a little if you can." Harold slowly, almost imperceptibly nodded. "They've only given me five minutes with you. Can you open your eyes?" Slowly, Harold's eyelids fluttered a little then returned closed. He gave his head a slight shake. "You don't have a hand I can hold," continued Sara, "so I'll just put my hand on your leg, if that's ok." Harold nodded slightly, so Sara laid her hand high on his thigh and gave him a slight squeeze, leaving her hand there so he could enjoy her warmth through the sheet for the minutes they were together. Harold sighed, a satisfied sigh. Sara watched, amusedly, as his cock began to rise, making a small tent under the bedclothes...

Too soon came the end of their five minutes, when the nurse came in to interrupt their time together. "I just have to say one more important thing to Harold," Sara declared. "Harold, I'm told it's time for me to go, but I will not go far...I will not leave this hospital until you do. That's a promise. I am never far away. If you need me for anything, just ask for 'Sara' and I will be here. We didn't enjoy the Saturday night together that I yearned to have, but we will! You have my word."

With that Sara rose, squeezed his thigh once more, and was out the door. She stopped at the nursing station to learn where the waiting room was for the ward, and she ensured that the staff knew her name was Sara Funston, that she was the official team representative for Harold, and that she would be available in the hospital at all times, 24/7, if he asked for her. The nurses agreed that she could come by every couple of hours to check on Harold, and to see if a short visit would be possible. With a knowing smile, the chief nurse seemed to recognize the strength of Sara's feelings for the patient.

Drifting off to a drugged sleep, Harold was also in wonderment at the word "yearned", at Sara's devoted attention. 'Hmmm' he thought, 'she could be something beautiful going to come into my life...'

Ensconced in the waiting room, Sara texted her father. "Just saw Harold for a few mins. He looks pretty banged up but he's awake, groggy, and responding to me—" she giggled at the thought. "prob get another brief visit in a couple of hours. Cd you come and relieve me for a bit? -- haven't had any lunch or dinner. Starving. I'm in waiting rm for Ortho ward -- it's rm 518."

Within a couple of minutes came her father's response. "Soon on my way. Mummy says she knows hospital food facilities closed, so she's preparing a Care package to send with me, of what we had for dinner. Yummy! Also emptied Harold's locker at stadium, so I have all his personal belongings and clothes packed in a bag to bring you. Cd you find if there's family that Harold would like notified? See you soon."

More waiting...a nurse poked her head through the door, asking "Sara? Harold's awake and upset -- he's asking for you." Sara was up in a flash, following the nurse down the hall. "It's an excellent sign of recovery that Harold is speaking," said the nurse. "You're good for him, cheering him up!"

The change in Harold after some more rest was remarkable, although his speaking was still hesitant and sometimes garbled. He seemed asleep, eyes closed, when Sara first entered his room, and she leaned over, carefully avoiding his two injured arms, and gave him a fervent kiss. His eyes slowly opened, filled with tears of wonder. "Sara?? Is it you...or are you an angel?"

"It's just me!" Sara replied. "I said I'd be here and I'm here, and we're getting things organized for you. Daddy has cleared your locker, so all your personal possessions are safe and soon will be with me. Other question: are there family you'd like us to call for you?"

There was a pause before Harold responded. "You are an angel, you're taking such good care of me...I don't know how to thank...no family...long story, another time." He paused, eyes closed, as if gathering strength or courage, and then went on, "just wanted you to know that I'm also really yearning..."

Sara blushed with desire. "We'll make that dream come true -- I hope not once, but many times! Let's seal the deal with a goodnight kiss before I leave you to sleep. And I-I-I can't hold you close like I want to, but I'd like to kiss you like a lover kisses a lover." Harold nodded his assent, and Sara moved close, bent over so that her breasts were brushing Harold's good shoulder, and softly opened her mouth onto his, sending her tongue into his mouth then receiving his in return. She was going weak in the knees by the time their kiss was over, thirty seconds later. "Sweet dreams, and a comfortable sleep, dearest Harold," whispered Sara. "You know I am never far away, and I'll see you in the morning." She crept out, pausing to watch as Harold succumbed again to sleep.

Coach Funston was waiting in the hall, having sensed that he shouldn't interrupt whatever was happening in the room. Seeing Sara emerging, blushing and wearing a silly big smile, he knew his instincts were right. "There you are," he declared. "Come and have something to eat, and tell me what's going on with Harold."

They got back to the waiting room, and Sara voraciously attacked the dinner that her mother had packed -- her favourite! Lasagna and salad. Between mouthfuls she excitedly filled her father in. "I've seen Harold twice, about 90 minutes apart, and the improvement in his condition was remarkable! He wants to thank you for all you're doing, getting his clothes and stuff."

Her father said, slyly, "I think he's improving because of all the excellent hands-on nursing care he's been getting..."

Sara blushed, excited at the memory of Harold's lips on hers, her hand caressing his thigh. "He says there's no family that needs to be notified -- he said 'long story, another time'. We'll get to that in good time. But speaking of time, I've been thinking. His concussion has subsided and there was no spinal injury, so the hospital won't want to keep him beyond another day, if that. But what after that? Until his bones heal he won't have the use of either of his hands which means he can't cope, can't feed or dress himself. Or anything. And he lives alone. So he'd have to go into a rehab facility or something..."

Her father interrupted her. "Mary and I have already been discussing this -- don't forget your mother's a Registered Nurse, and she leapt to understanding this dilemma the minute I described Harold's injuries. If you were about to propose that Harold come and live at our house until he's completely recovered, we've come to that conclusion as well. We have that self-contained guest suite in the basement, nice big room, walk-out to the patio, furnished with everything, own bathroom, even a little kitchen. Very private. And" he continued, winking at Sara, "excellent and caring nursing, right close by!"