NewU - Samantha

This character is taken from the amazing work of the TheNovalist and can be found in Chapter 5 of his NewU series.

TheNovalist was not only kind enough to let me take one of their characters on a little side journey, but has also written a beautiful foreword for me below. Samantha was a minor character way back at the start of the NewU series, something about her and the way she was written inspired me to imagine her life after her encounter within NewU, and TheNovalist let me run with my train of thought that turned into my first proper foray into story writing. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to TheNovalist and I hope you find it enjoyable.

Foreword from TheNovalist

It is not often that I meet and speak to someone who has shown such a comprehensive understanding of the ways that I have always written. The nuances, the subtext, that planting of seeds that grow into the mighty oaks of ideas, all of them a commentary of how we, as people, think. My writing has, contrary to what the casual reader may see, always been about the self. About the mind. About how a person thinks and reacts to a world that is more often than not completely beyond their ability to control. DragonMuseings not only understood that, but she grasped it in a way that let her think about it well outside of the narrow box I had crafted. And so, her mind turned to one of my forgotten characters - Samantha.

The question was simple: How would a person's life be changed by her interactions with someone like Pete? And I have loved every moment of watching DM exploring that question in her story. Time and time again she has thanked me for "allowing" her to use one of my characters. I would like to state now that Samantha stopped being mine the moment that DM got her in her wonderfully talented hands. I named Samantha, I gave her a job, and I gave her a sense of loneliness, that's it. DM brought her to life in a way that I never could. So, from this point forward, Samantha is hers, and she thoroughly deserves every accolade that comes with it. I am so very proud, and very honored to have been a part of this journey, and to have met someone so special along the way. I would like to be the very first to offer my heartfelt congratulations and profound admiration to DragonMusings for a story so beautifully crafted.

Stay Awesome, everyone, and I hope you enjoy this as much as I have.

Nova

******

Samantha -

When you are staring into the unknown, one would perhaps not want it to be such a blinding light, burning into your retinas; in fact, when that proverbial day arrives, this intense orange glow firing all its heat and intensity at you with nowhere to escape from it, is not the one I would choose to walk into to meet my maker. It is relentless, a bit like this nagging tug deep inside me that has led me here to this choice. Here is boarding gate 32 at one of the busiest international airports in the world, and there is not a set of pearly gates, but merely a business class seat to sunnier shores.

The intense light is the early morning sunrise, brightly snaking its way across the tarmac and bouncing off the rows of parked planes linked through the fingers of the airport terminal, shining through the towering glass walls that surround the waiting passengers, devoid of any useful shading to prevent the horizontal rays saturating those of us eager to board. Each of us on our own journey putting up with the sun's discomfort in our impatience to be called forward. Can we not just get on with it?

The monotonous tone of the ringmaster of the cabin crew finally announces that it is time; time to leave this place I call home and take this chance, scratch this itch or whatever it is that is compelling me to board this flight, to leave, to seek something that is, well.... more.

Moving closer to the boarding gate desk, I finally get some relief from the glare and wait my turn. The young cabin crew staff member checking the passports and tickets is typically pretty. Hair pulled back into a slick neat bun, a slash of corporation red lipstick, the shade far too old for her years and a neat, tailored outfit with comfortable shoes, a heel but not too much of one for someone who works on a long-haul flight.

"Samantha Kitchener" she flashes a practised toothy smile as she slaps my passport photo page down on the glass screen next to the desk "thank you for flying with us today, we hope you enjoy your flight."

It was personal and yet not, a cursory glance of my name with a standard greeting. Not that I care particularly, but I can't help wondering as I take my documents from her perfectly manicured hand if I could get away with that level of indifference in my own work. Perhaps I should try it, perhaps it was my lack of indifference that led me to be walking down this gangway to board this flight in the first place.

It was only a few weeks since I had stood behind another glass wall. On that particular day the sun had not been especially bright, in fact it had been pretty nondescript to the point where I would struggle to describe it, though to be fair it wasn't the focus of my attention at the time.

***

The gantry was possibly one of the busiest places in the hospital. The link between the two main buildings meant you didn't have to do the long trek through the corridors and cross the hectic roads below. Today, however, it gave the best view of the entrance to the neurology department. Today, I was compelled to pause for a moment and watch as one particular patient celebrated his release from this place. To be honest, I was a little jealous that he was off to a brave new world, not because it was away from me, I had known when it happened what our encounter had meant. He was recovered; albeit somewhat miraculously, from a terrible, terrible accident, and there he went laughing with his friend as if the past few weeks hadn't even registered. As if his time with me yesterday hadn't occurred.

Meeting Pete hadn't been logged as anything remarkable in my appointment schedule. In fact when he had been wheeled into my treatment room in the physio department, I anticipated that he was going to be another frustrated young man, who's mind was more willing to move than his body was capable of. Another journey to take a patient on from expectation to reality. His file was a shocking read: the accident, the injuries, they should have been catastrophic, in most cases they would have taken months, if not years to recover from. I thought he would be one of those difficult cases but call it the essence of youth or whatever you like, Pete was determined to prove us all wrong, and he did.

He was definitely a flirt, far too young for me, but he had an air of... something I can't quite put my finger on about him that seemed to give him an edge of maturity. Our sparring had begun almost immediately, he was insistent that he didn't need the mandated six weeks of physiotherapy. I was insistent that he would in fact with the extent of his injuries, need much longer. He was up for the challenge and like many before him I had offered him the premise that if he could pass all my tests right there and then that I would have no choice but to sign him off. It is usually a really productive exercise for overzealous patients to recognise their limitations in a way that gives them control.

Just like my other patients, Pete jumped at the chance and I had resigned myself to an hour of watching a young man crumple as he realised the new mode his body would operate within. However, like I said, Pete was determined to show exactly what he was capable of; and every movement and test I had him perform brought a new level of acuity in his presentation that he was going to go home. It was like I could feel it reverberating out from him as I tried to press and manipulate his movements, by all accounts there should have been some failures but there just wasn't. This man, who had been wheeled into my treatment room, presented in optimum physical health. More than that, I couldn't quite articulate it then and I still can't, but he was just radiant.

It didn't take me long to conclude that he was more than okay, and I could sign him off for release. Apart from the fascination with his case file, he was overflowing with some innate vibe that kept me working with him long after I knew that he did not require any physiotherapy. I just wanted to be in his presence, and then I just wanted to keep touching his body and then, well, it just got a little crazy, and there was nothing I could or even wanted to do to control what happened next and he had been all in for the ride.

It's not like I haven't had wicked thoughts about patients before, fantasised even. I have always gotten a kick out of my sexuality, and that part of my imagination I give over to those naughty thoughts that most of my friends and colleagues wouldn't even realise I process. This was different though, before I knew it, I was unabashedly propositioning him. I'm not one to pay attention to work gossip, but I had heard some pretty saucy rumours about him and one of the nurses in the neurology department, and something about it, about this prowess that seemed to ooze out of him just made me want to have a taste of it.

It was that thought pattern and a suggestion from me about the best way to test his stamina, that led to the most amazing sex I have ever had, in fact to call it just sex is a disservice, it was so much more.

We had indulged in each other for the rest of the afternoon, he hadn't hesitated at my suggestion, he hadn't stepped away from my predatory like intentions towards him, he had welcomed it in fact. Where so many other lovers in my life had been intimidated, he embraced it and wanted me to show him more. I liked that. He was different, he hadn't taken the usual bait when I seduced, he allowed me to carry through to the end. I found the whole thing very empowering.

We played our game of chess; he watched as I dipped my fingers inside my underwear and then he responded with the kind of attention and caresses that I have found few men in my experience possess in their playbook, let alone a man as young as Pete. He managed to make me climax before I had even properly touched him, something about the way he caressed me, the energy of his lips on my skin set my body on fire. His intuition about how I like to be pleasured was acute, like he tuned into my bandwidth. He desired me and I soon gave up my ideals of sexual impression and need to prove myself; his self-assuredness commanded that I lay back and enjoy the experience, in mutual understanding that our gratifications was as much of a turn on for him as me, as he licked, sucked and lavished attention to my centre, to the damp core I presented to him at the apex of my thighs. It was an intoxicating melody of climatic eruptions that heralded the start of our afternoon of fun and fucking.

I took my turn to pleasure him, to indulge him with my mouth on his impressive shaft in the same way that he had feasted on me. I took him to the edge, cataloguing the entire experience as our eyes locked on each other, those eyes, so deep and so very sexy, they have become the image that I have come back to every time I have touched myself since, kneeling before him, sucking his beautiful length, and looking up into those eyes that seemed to just penetrate into my very soul.

Then our coupling really took hold, like our minds were one. We had moved together onto the mats of my consult room, and he entered me from behind in the most raw, primal way; filling every inch of me and gripping my hips as he thrust deeper and faster until I was undone like a limp doll under him as my crest wrapped and squeezed his member like my life depended on it to hold me up. It was frenzied orgasmic fucking and we both felt the need, yet we were both attuned to the other side. Just when I imagined that he was another guy that would ram his pleasure out without much thought beyond gratification, it changed and we went beyond that at the exact same time; is that crazy to think, could there be such a thing? It was just a natural, joint shift that happened between us.

We stopped fucking, the delicious epic fucking, and we made love.

With no expectation or promise that it would go beyond this moment we were in, we both understood what we needed next. We were hungry, we clung and joined together with an intimacy that lifetimes of lovers might not find, it's like he finally got me to understand that next level, how it could be to just move as one, with affection, with intention, where nothing else matters outside of our quest to reach a mutual high. I like to think I gave him some deeper understanding of what could be as well, even though he seemed to be showing me something, guiding me towards somewhere. No, we were journeying together, I felt his desire as he moved over me, into me, over and over, before I gently pushed him back and we locked eyes as I felt his pleasure rise, and he gave in to his own release and filled me with his seed. We were euphoric.

Then it was done, we showered, we kissed, we laughed, and we teased as we dressed; the easy sparring from when he had first entered my room returned. I didn't ask for any promises, and he didn't offer any, it's like he sensed that my mind was made up there and then; I was going to find more. He wasn't that more, but he was a wake-up call, and as I placed my hand on the wheelchair to take him back to the ward the same way he arrived, he covered my hand with his and slid his other hand into my hair at the back of my neck. I felt his fingers splay as he tilted my head to look at him. He didn't have to tell me that he was walking out of the room, his quiet determination flashed through his eyes before he dropped his lips and brushed them over mine, and then as he broke away, he stopped for a second his mouth an inch from mine and I saw the affection in his eyes. A moment later he stepped away and his hand shifted to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear as his thumb caressed my jaw line before he said softly:

"Goodbye Samantha and thank you" and with that he turned and left.

So, it was from that glass gantry for the second time in as many days that I stood and watched him leave. I could have stopped it, I didn't need to sign his release papers as quickly as I did, I could have requested a follow up consultation, but I didn't. There had been some deeper understanding between us that this was how it needed to happen, and as I watched him leave the hospital I sensed that there had been a gift in our encounter, and in the coming weeks that tug grew inside me, there was something out there that could fulfil me in the same way that our joining had that afternoon. Like a seed he had planted within me, I now felt compelled to find my... more.

***

I had never flown business class before, but I quickly concluded that it was in fact the only way to travel and that I had been a fool to turn right when boarding previous flights and not splash out on what I had considered unnecessary frivolity before. I mean, why the hell shouldn't I; a senior in my department at a relatively young age, I had certainly worked hard and earned a decent enough wage. Everything in my life was just so, a nice apartment, a wardrobe full of beautiful clothes and a body that I kept in good shape. My friends often lamented my single status, their opinion pivoting to my fussiness in my choice of partners more often than I would have liked them to. It's not that I didn't take lovers, but they were never quite enough to fully get me to drop my guard or contemplate any long-term plans with; they just never seemed to be enough not just in bed, but also intellectually or even spiritually, I just never felt fully seen, until Pete.

I contemplated our brief encounter and the lasting impact that had lingered over the past few weeks as I sipped the complimentary bubbly and looked down at the blue ocean below. The nag, that I could actually find something more than the existence I had, that I had felt since we had spent that afternoon together returned to the pit of my stomach. I knew I was lonely, not a shock for a woman in her 30's with the stereotypical tick tock of settling down dancing at her feet; but I also felt compelled that I wouldn't sit around and mope about it. So, this flight was booked, I was travelling to spend time with one of my oldest and dearest friends, a break from the routine and the start of a discovery of my more.

Kim spotted me before I had time to negotiate the exit walkway of the airport. Business class also came with other perks I discovered, like luggage offloading expediently and an apparent smooth passage through customs, so I was one of the first to enter the arrivals hall and was immediately engulfed by a frenzied hug from my exuberant friend. I relaxed with the relief that comes with seeing a familiar face in a foreign land, and returned her hug with all the energy that my travel weary body could manage.

"I can't believe you are finally here, how was the flight, are you tired, hungry, do you need coffee, we got coffee" she rapidly fired questions at me as she held my upper arms before she turned and beckoned to her husband.

I smiled as she kept fussing, ordering him to come closer and bring the hot beverages he was holding in each hand.

"Hi Samantha" he smiled as he leant forward and kissed each of my cheeks before handing over the fresh smelling drink. I took it gratefully as I finally untangled myself from my bouncing friend and watched him move around to start pushing my luggage trolley towards the exit.

"I made Bernardo set two alarms" Kim continued as she linked arms with mine and moved us to follow him. "We have finally got you out to visit us and I want to make the most of every minute we have."

As she squeezed my arm, I smiled to myself over the brim of my takeaway cup. I had definitely made the right choice, I needed to get away; and what better place to go than to where you can find familiarity with an old friend, it was like wrapping a soft blanket around myself.

The days went by like a blur, Kim had taken time off from her private physiotherapy practice to show me the sights, but not before I had marvelled at her work set up. We had met and become firm friends at university, and had spent many nights back then dreaming of the day when we would set up a practice together. That was before she met Bernardo at a conference, and the rest as they say is history. He adored her from the very beginning and when they had a gorgeous destination wedding two years ago, I was more than honoured to be part of their bridal party. In the short time since that day, they had settled on the other side of the world away from both of their home countries and Kim had followed her dream of private practice without me.

***

"I don't know what it is Sam, you just seem to have this glow, this presence," Kim waved her hand in slow exaggerated circles around my head as she handed me a metal drink bottle with the other.

"I could feel it from the moment you arrived, it's like a magnet, even I want to stick to you, and I know all your disgusting habits," Kim grinned as she wiped her mouth and then bent over to tug the laces on her trail shoes.

I take a deep drink of water as she talks, grateful for the relief of the cool liquid as I look up the slope to see how much longer we would need to climb for. After a whirlwind couple of weeks doing city tours, going to the beach, dinners and drinks with Kim and Bernardo's wide circle of friends, it was just the two of us. Kim had suggested this hike to the top of a lookout in the national park which she assured me gave the most magnificent views of the city and ocean beyond. The heat was searing, and the sandy landscape offered little relief as we trekked along paths of hardy vegetation better suited to this tough environment than a girl from more rainy climes. We were on the final slog to the top of the lookout; it was midweek and so far we had the trail all to ourselves. I screwed the lid back on the water bottle and handed it back to my beautiful friend. This country suited her, she was so content with her life, her thriving practice, and cute terrace cottage a stone's throw from the beach that she and Bernardo had painstakingly restored. We had spent many evenings already having dinner on the patio of their rear garden, talking late into the night with Bernardo lighting the outdoor fire if an evening chill set in. Kim's tall dark husband was mostly quiet, perhaps as Kim and I enjoyed rapid-fire conversations between us that were not in his native language he chose not to work hard to keep up. But his focus always drifted to his wife, subtly attentive to her in ways I noted that she didn't even realise, the little things you know? I wasn't jealous, of anyone I knew my petite blonde friend deserved this level of happiness. Throughout all our capers over the years we had always been a solid friendship, wing men as they say; my long haired, blue eyed, wiry framed friend a contrast to my taller curvier frame, caramel wavy hair and deep brown eyes. Most of all it was our conversation that sparked our deep respect for each other, we just got how our minds worked and we never ran out of things to say.