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The Broken Arm

Summary: Devon loves Raven enough to take care of her when she's hurting.

Keywords: MF, rom

Author: Chrysoberyl Rosewood

Title: The Broken Arm

The Broken Arm

(MF rom)

by Chrysoberyl Rosewood

May 2001



Note From Chrys:

I sure the hell wish I had someone to do this for me. In fact, since I

broke my arm (completely differently than Raven broke hers, though),

all I've wanted is to be shaved THERE. But it's just not going to

happen. I might just attempt to injure myself more tomorrow when I take

a shower. I HATE HAIR. Anyway. That's sort of gross.

But the story isn't. Enjoy.

<3, Chrys



The Story:

It had been a long day at the office. I was desperate to be home and

lounging in front of the television, but no. It had to be some little

old lady in a boat of a car, looking out from under the steering wheel.

She pulled out in front of me, and although we weren't going very fast,

somehow I managed to half-total my car and suffer from a broken arm.

"Honey," I said to Devon at the hospital. "Remind me to take the keys

away from my mother when she goes blind. I wouldn't want someone else

to suffer the fate that I have just because there are those in the

world who think it's proper for people past the age of 108 to be

driving."

He grinned at me and patted my leg as they wrapped my arm in a splint.

"It could be worse, you know," he said. "Her only source of income

could be social security. At least she's a fairly rich old lady who is

going to fix our car."

I rolled my eyes.

*****

"Dear, could you get that for me? I dropped it and I can't lean on my

arm ..." I asked, peering over the side of the couch at the remote

control.

Devon looked at me for a second, then reached down and picked it up and

handed it to.

I began to happily flip through our cable channels. I was doing a lot

more lounging now that my arm was broken in three places. The cast that

it was wrapped up in made sure that my arm was bending in no direction,

whether it be normal or not.

Twenty minutes later, I was deeply engrossed in a rerun of The Fresh

Prince of Bel-Air and I didn't even notice Devon standing at my elbow

until he gently took the remote from me. "What?" I asked. "We can watch

something else-"

"No," he said, grinning. He flipped the tv off, then in one swift

movement, he had swept me into his arms. "I have a better idea."

Completely taken aback at this new turn of events, I laughed nervously.

"Don't drop me, honey. We don't want any more doctor bills."

His eyes glittered as he carried me up the stairs, smiling wanly and

giving me a look. "Don't worry, Raven," he whispered. "Just relax."

Shivers ran down my spine as I stared back into his eyes. He had

something planned, I could tell.

I leaned into his embrace as he continued to clump up the stairs. I

felt his body moving underneath me as the muscles in his legs pulled us

closer to the top. He then continued to our bedroom, pausing

momentarily to flip the light switch in the hall off. Devon gently set

me down on the bed, whispered, "Don't move," and disappeared.

Smiling to myself, I looked around the dim room. I had been laid down

gently on our large king sized bed. Devon had pulled our nightstands

close to the bed and lit candles. They were giving a soft glow to the

bedroom and caused flickering shadows to dance on the walls.

Devon returned with a bundle. He set it down on the only available

space on one of the nightstands and stood back to look at me. "I know

you've been frustrated because you can't do things for yourself ever

since last week's accident, so I thought I would show you how much I

love you for doing something for you that you can't."

I nodded, puzzled, and he said, "Just relax."

I nodded again, and laid back on the pillows he had fluffed up

underneath me. I watched him move around in the candlelight, and he

came closer.

"I'm going to undress you now," he whispered into my ear. His breath

tickled and raised shivers along my spine.

He started by gently sitting me up. He hooked his fingers underneath

the bottom of my shirt. He carefully lifted it halfway up my chest,

then took my broken and bandaged up arm and pulled it up from my body.

He bunched my shirt, then slid my arm out through the arm hole

carefully. He returned my arm to its place, nestling it against my body

again, then his fingers stroked across my face as he pulled my shirt up

and over my head. Finally, he pulled it off the other arm, and

discarded it to the floor. His lips brushed my collarbone and I

shivered again, and he stepped back.

He moved in again encircled me with his arms. I looked into his strong

blue eyes and moved in to kiss him, but he turned his head to the side,

grinning. He unhooked my bra with a quiet snap, then pulled it away

from my body. Up and around the oddly bent elbow one strap went, then

the other came off and onto the floor went my bra.

I sat naked as he drank the sight of me in. I lowered my head, feeling

rather unattractive because of the silly looking bandage, but Devon

raised my chin with his finger. "You're beautiful," he said, "and it

only makes me love you more that you are partially helpless. It means I

get to take care of you, something I want to do. It was part of our

wedding vows and I cherish that." He kissed the top of my right breast,

then the top of my left, and my skin burned with the feel of his lips.

He then kissed my left nipple, then my right nipple, then moved back

again.

Devon gently slid my hips down the bed so that I was lying back against

the pillows again. He softly undid the button on my jeans, then I heard

the whisp of my zipper. With one hand, he coaxed me to raise my hips

into the air, and with the other he slid my jeans down. Onto the floor

with them.

Devon moved close to me again and kissed my stomach. He hooked his

fingers on both sides of my underwear, then pulled them down, never

moving his face that was pressed against my belly. He gently licked my

bellybutton and my center burned in anticipation. He made careful

little kisses around my stomach, trailing up and then down. Finally he

sat back and pulled my underwear off my body and threw it onto the

floor.

I was completely naked except for the bandages on my arm.

Devon put his hand on my stomach and rubbed it softly. Burning trails

followed his fingers as he traced a lazy pattern with his fingers,

staring at me. "You're so gorgeous," he said. "Now, I know what you

want right now," that elicited a grin from me, "but you've also been

complaining about some for a couple days now. I want to help with

that."

Quizzically, I looked into his blue eyes, just wanting to lose myself

in their depths while he made love to me. But apparently something

better was coming, and I nodded.

He stood up and walked over to his bundle on the nightstand. As I

watched him, he pulled out lotion, a razor, a can of shaving gel, a

small bowl of water, and a washcloth.

"You told me how difficult it was to shave your legs, and how shaving

anything else was a physical impossibility, at least until your arm can

bend again. So I thought that I would do it for you." Devon's eyes,

always smiling, made a lazy perusal up and down my body. I could almost

feel physical contact, so deep was his gaze.

Devon grabbed my ankles in his hands and scooted my body to the side.

He laid down the large towel where I had been, then quickly moved me

back. I giggled at the suddenness of his movements, and nestled back

into the pillows.

I watched as he squirted a bit of the gel into his left hand, then

started slathering it into foam on my right leg. He spread it nicely

and neatly over my entire bottom leg, then squirted some more in for my

knee and upper leg. When my leg was completely covered in a thick layer

of whiteness, he rinsed his hand in the bowl of water, and reached for

the razor.

I watched as the razor whispered over my flesh, tickling me as Devon

stared at my leg. His movements were precise, making a stripe from my

ankle all the way to my knee, then going back down to widen the stripe.

When he had made it all the way around my lower leg, he rinsed the

razor off and moved to my knee. His eyebrows knit in concentration,

then he slowly swiped the razor over my knee. It became an extension of

his hand and the softness and gentleness of it on my skin felt almost

as though he was caressing my leg.

He continued doing this, up to the juncture where my leg met my trunk

on the outside. Then he rolled my leg so he could access my inner thigh

and swiped it clear of the white foam. Devon then lifted my leg and

razored back until my leg was completely devoid of foam or hair.

Devon then dipped the washcloth into his bowl of water and wrung it

out. He gently wiped my entire leg, making sure he got all the foam.

Then he moved on to my second leg.

As the same process took place, I just leaned back and closed my eyes,

feeling the razor glide effortlessly over my skin and Devon gently

touching me in different places. I was already wet with desire at the

gentle caresses of Devon and the razor, and when he began to spread

lotion on my legs after wiping all the excess gel, I was nearly

purring.

I opened my eyes when contact stopped suddenly, to see Devon grinning

at me. "Now to my favorite part," he said, and I felt myself grow

warmer.

He rinsed the razor off and once again squeezed the washcloth clean of

any foam.

Devon then separated my legs, putting pillows on either side so that my

legs could rest comfortably splayed, giving him easy access.

He reached for the gel again and squeezed a bit into his hand. He set

the bottle down, then gently began to spread it across my bikini line,

which was beginning to grow in over a week's neglect. I sighed under

his gentle caresses, and he whispered, "If you keep making those

delightful noises, I won't be able to concentrate." His eyes danced up

to mine for a moment, then back down to his work.

He put one hand at the bottom to keep my skin taut, then began to shave

me clean. After each swipe, he rinsed it in the bowl. "I don't want to

nick your sensitive skin," he whispered again, and continued the

process across the whole of my pubic area.

When that was completely hairless, he once again took the washcloth and

wiped the gel away. Teasing me, he stroked my left outer lip, lingered,

then broke contact to rinse the washcloth again.

Shortly after that, he was back again, squeezing gel onto his fingers.

Pressing my leg down with his right hand, his left hand smeared the gel

into a foam on my pussy lips. The gel tingled pleasantly against my

skin and I sighed again.

Devon rinsed his fingers, then reached for the razor. My pussy burned

as his fingers moved closer, then they were upon me. He stretched my

left lip taut, then ran the razor over it, clearing all gel and hair

away. He broke contact and I moaned, wanting more of a touch, but

knowing better than to squirm. His fingers were now between my right

lips, stretching them taut, and the razor glided over my skin softly

and erotically. Soon I was completely hairless, but burning in my

center as the gel teased me with its gentle tingling sensation.

"Oh, Devon," I sighed.

I watched as he carefully rinsed his hands off, then rinsed the

washcloth off. He was taking his sweet time, teasing me. I just watched

his hands, as they moved over the nightstand, making sure everything

was in its place, thinking about how they would feel on me.

Devon picked up the washcloth, then moved back to wash the leftover gel

off. He moved carefully over my lips, steering clear of my center,

teasing me, taunting me, as I shifted underneath him. The material

moved pleasantly against my skin, arousing my lips, and then he began

to caress my inner lips.

The washcloth material was bumpy against my skin and created a lovely

friction. Around and around my center he moved, seeming to be careful

to avoid any sensitive spots, teasing me as best he could. Then he

gently, slowly, moved closer and closer to my clitoris and finally

fingered it through the fabric. I watched, enraptured, drinking in the

feeling.

Devon then grabbed the washcloth by opposite corners, and laid it

vertically on my stomach. With the cloth pulled tight between his

hands, he pulled the washcloth over my stomach and across my clitoris,

down towards my center. The cloth rubbed across my sensitive spots and

I moaned and grasped a pillow with my unbroken arm. The sensation of

the slightly rough washcloth caressing my clitoris was divine, and I

pushed up against it.

Devon brought the washcloth back for a second time, once again pulling

it across my clitoris. I raised my hips to meet it, then lowered them,

raised to meet it, then lowered them. He never broke contact, and I

could see him watching me watch his erotic ministrations.

Devon set the washcloth to the side of the bed and I watched as he

brought his now naked fingers near my center.

He pressed two gently against my clitoris, then used them to pull back

my hood. He looked at it for a moment, then blew gently on it. My hips

wiggled and I quieted them as the warm air caressed my body. He took

his index finger and traced gently around my center. His finger soon

became slick with my juices, which had been flowing since he lifted me

up and out of the chair in a manly gesture that I don't get to see very

often.

Slowly he circled, then plunged one finger into me. He quickly pulled

it out and moved it to my clit, which he fingered for a moment.

Devon then traced a pattern up and away, up to my bellybutton.

I looked into his eyes, and he stuck his tongue out at me, grinning. He

moved in, and his tongue lighted on my now hairless pubic mound. He

traced a circle around and around, then his long tongue glided down

until it was caressing my clit.

I jerked under the sudden contact, but he kept pressing, making small

circles with his tongue. My vagina was clenching and unclenching, like

a hungry little mouth wanting to be fed. His tongue circled my clit,

then traced down between my inner and outer lips, then up the other

side, then across my clit again. I pressed my knees against the bed,

trying to spread myself wider to get him to enter me again.

He made the same pattern again, but not going into my pussy. A third

and a fourth time this happened.

Finally I moaned his name. "Devon, please," I moaned. His fingers took

over, tracing the same pattern that his tongue had while he answered

me, "Please what?"

"Please," I said. "Please."

His eyes sparkled as we stared at one another. I writhed under his

touch.

"Please ... what?" he said again.

"Please enter me," I moaned. "Please enter me!"

"Enter you? Like this?" he asked, then plunged one finger into my

pussy. I clamped down on it, bearing down on his index finger as though

I was trying to squeeze the life out of it. My hips jerked again, and I

moaned, "Yesssssss ..."

"But," he said, mischeivously, "I don't think that's what you want

exactly." He pulled his finger out and began to caress my clit with it,

then made the circle of my nether regions again. He then licked my clit

swiftly and came back up. "You," he said, "want something else. Don't

you?"

"Yes, I do," I moaned.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I want," I said. "Your tongue. Inside me. Plesae."

"Oh, right, ok," he said, "So you want me to do what?"

"Mmph," I said, as he stroked my clit, then continued his circle back

down and around my center. "I want you to-"

"Yes?"

"I want you to tongue fuck me. Oh, God, Devon, please, just tongue fuck

me," I moaned, jerking my hips once again.

He leaned down again, licking my clit and making little circles around

it. Then he slid his tongue down, down, down, flattened it and then

plunged it into me.

I watched as he bobbed his head against my privates, and I felt his

tongue sliding in and out of me. Slowly he stroked, in and out, and his

fingers joined the rhythm on my clit. My whole body seemed to be

humming as he tongue fucked me, moving in and out at an excruciatingly

slow pace.

"Oh, God, Devon," I said, "fuck me with your tongue, fuck me ... With

your tongue, God, damn it, fuck me ..."

I shivered as he pushed me ever so slowly higher and higher. But, "I

need ... harder ... faster ..."

Before I had even spoken, though, he knew what I wanted. He was

withdrawing his tongue, and instead inserted two fingers into me. I

squeezed against them, feeling their thickness inside of me as they

slipped their way in and out.

Devon's tongue was soon at work again, licking my clit. He sucked hard

on the side of my leg momentarily, then returned to what he was doing.

His fingers were joined by a third, then finally a fourth. I was being

pressed open and apart, and I was moaning underneath his movements.

"Oh, fuck me, Devon, yes," I sighed. His tongue never stopped its

circles, only moving faster now.

His fingers began to dive deeper, moving faster. The sensations were

coming faster and harder now, and my whole body was beginning to feel

it.

Finally he was slamming his fingers in and out of me and I moaned his

name. He pushed me higher and higher and my pussy squeezed hard against

his fingers. My whole body began to shiver as orgasm overtook me. His

tongue bore down on my clit, moving in little circles as I came, wave

after wave of pleasure washing over me as I felt spread open against

his hand. I moaned his name again as I kept coming, and he moved his

tongue gently to the side to allow me the pleasure of orgasm without

being too overstimulated. My whole body shook as I squeezed his

fingers, seeming to pull them deeper inside of me until I was emitting

a low keening.

Finally, my orgasm subsided and Devon gently removed his fingers from

inside me. He continued licking for a few minutes as my body shivered

in the aftershocks of a marvelous orgasm.

Soon he stepped back and pulled a blanket from the pile in the corner.

He shook the blanket over top of me, covering me and blowing out most

of the candles as it wafted downwards. Devon climbed into bed with me,

and pulled my body against his. He leaned over and blew out the last

candle, and we fell asleep in each others' arms.

*****

Write me: ChrysRosewood@yahoo.com

http://www.asstr.org/~Chrysoberyl/