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A Trip to the Mall.


I sighed, and started to continue. Donna stopped me, already crying. "You're leg is shaking, Er," she told me.

"It's a spasm. I used to get them a lot, but my meds help quite a bit." I replied matter-of-factly.

"Can I?" she asked, placing her hands on either side of my knee.

I jumped involuntarily at her touch. "Y-yes," I said. "Hard touch is better than light. Anyway, I'll get to the end of the story now, if that's okay." She nodded yes, while gently holding my knee in her hands. "Well, the docs said that surgery wouldn't be necessary, that after the concussion wore off I should do some physical therapy and take some pain medication. I'd have to wear an immobilizer and use crutches for about a week and afterward a month's worth of PT [physical therapy] should make me right as rain. Well, I wore the immobilizer and did the PT. But the pain and weakness I felt in my knee, leg and foot kept growing worse. My physical therapists told me it was all in my head and to get over it. I kept telling them their exercises were too difficult, and I was in too much pain to keep going at their rate. They wouldn't listen.

"Well, my mom kept getting more worried, she made an appointment with my orthopedist. The one I was normally seeing was on vacation, and she told them I had to be seen right away. I got in that day with one of his associates. After hearing what I was describing as my symptoms, he decided to run some tests and get another MRI of my knee. He called me into the office as soon as he found out the results. He told me it couldn't wait and his secretary was going to clear whatever space in his schedule would fit my own. Believe me, when a doc tells you that, you know it's not going to be good news. Well, he sat me down in the office and explained that physically, my knee, leg and foot are healthy. The pain I feel all the time -- and will always feel all the time -- is the result of severe nerve damage caused by the accident. In the blink of an eye, my dreams of being an elite track athlete were over. I will always be in pain, my leg will always be discolored and swollen, I will always need a cane to walk, and I will always need physical therapy to ensure my leg doesn't atrophy."

Donna was crying more now, obviously my story had really gotten to her. She nuzzled herself close to me, letting go of my leg. She put her hands on either side of my face, and looked me in the eye. "You will always need, and always have something else, Er," she said wiping some of her tears away with a tissue.

"What's that?"

"Love," she said and kissed me. "My love, Erik. I've loved you for so long. Not just as a friend. I've loved you as a best friend. My best friend. And I love you even more that you were able to share all that with me. And I don't want to scare you, but I already love you as my boyfriend. You're so brave. So -- "

I didn't let her finish; I kissed her back, passionately. Her lips slowly parted, and our tongues met for the first time. She then lightly pushed me back down onto my pillow so I was lying down on the bed. Both hands moved to her shirt, which she began to unbutton.

"Are... are you taking off your top?" I asked unable to stop the words from coming out of my mouth.

She smirked and rolled her eyes without answering the question. A moment later her shirt hit the floor. Next, she quickly and effortlessly unlatched her bra and threw it onto the floor as well. Since I met her during orientation I knew she had a good body... and quite honestly I had attempted to sneak a peek more than a few times while staying over in her room while my roommate and hers were occupied in my room. As before, I was still amazed by just how large her breasts were -- and even more amazed about how she was able to conceal them from others' notice.

"Nit dos iz sheyn, vos iz sheyn, nor dos, vos es gefelt.,," I murmured.

"What was that?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips while she looked at me with a stern, yet playful expression.

"Oh, it's Yiddish.

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