What You Don't Know

It's been a few weeks, but I'm finally out of my cast. I still have a court date to attend though. Ty has too come also because he witnessed the crash. I want the guy who hit me to take alcohol education classes and have to attend alcohol anonymous. I also want his license taken away until his alcohol-free. We learned that he was an alcoholic and drives the same route every night he goes drinking, but this time I was in his way.
Ty and I had our date. We ate Italian food. Owen and Jake even visited me in the hospital. Shelley and Liesa came too. They've all been there for me through the whole thing plus my parents and Brettly too. Physical therapy has been grueling, and the scars left over from the surgeries to repair my arm and shoulder are embarrassing. I've been wearing long sleeves as of late so no one will make fun of me for them. I won't even let Ty see them. I'm considering cosmetic surgery to remove them. Ty tells me I don't need to. My parents tell me the same thing, but they aren't opposed to me getting them removed to a point where they're only a little pink. Right now they're a deep dark red like my auntie Annie's knee scar from her surgery after she tore her ACL while playing tennis.
I've been wanting to become intimate with Ty lately, but I'm afraid that he'll recoil when he finally sees the scars. The only people who have seen them are my parents, Brettly, Shelley, an Liesa. Shelley and Liesa cringed a bit. It made me cry, and, when they tried to console me and apologize, I wouldn't let them. I made them leave. I finally let them apologize a few days later, but they're the reason why I won't show Ty. I fear that he'll have the same reaction. We have a date night on Saturday at his house. It will only be us at home because his mom is in California on business and his sister is sleeping over her friend Sophie's house. I want to give myself to Ty, but I'm scared about what he'll think of me.
Right now, I'm in Russian 4H on a Friday afternoon, and it's boring the hell out of me because we have substitute who has absolutely no fucking clue what she's doing. Mr. Belyakov knows what he's talking about but not this lady, Ms. Mielkutė. That sounds Lithuanian to me. Why is a Lithuanian substituting a Russian class? I have yet to figure it out. I can't wait for this class to be over because school will be over then. "Grace...Grace Johnson?" I raise my hand and say, "Here." She stumbled through the rest of the list. "Now Mr. Belyakov said he left a DVD for class on the Russian culture. I'm going to put it in and play it." I rain of relief fell on me. This is just what I needed today. As the movie starts, I relax a little bit and start planning my night with Ty tomorrow.
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Ty just texted me that he was in my driveway and honked his horn. I texted him back: "Alright, alright. Hold your horses." I grabbed my purse, in it are the condoms I bought just in case. As I rushed down the stairs, I saw my mom and dad in the living room watching the DVR'd Hell's Kitchen episode. I went over and hugged them both and told them I loved them before I left. Then, I headed out the door, down the front stairs, and jumping into the passenger seat of Ty's car. "You look beautiful," he said as he leaned over and kissed me, "Let's head over to my place."
We cracked jokes and talked about our days while he was driving over. When he parked in the driveway of his house, he leaned over again and instead of kissing me on the lips he whispered in my ear, "Why can't I see your arms and shoulders? They're beautiful. Always have been, always will be." "Ty," I swallow, "we should go inside." He pulls away and locks my gaze with his. "Okay," he says. He gets out, comes around, and opens my door for me. We walk up the pathway to the front door, and, once we're inside, we start kissing each other. I'm the one who starts it. He breaks the kiss. "Please let me see your arms and shoulders," he almost begs me. "Take me to your room then," I plead a bit with him. He almost pulls me up the stairs.
When we get into his room, he switches the light on and closes the door. "Can I?" he asks with his fingers gripping the bottom of my shirt. "Mhm," I nod and drop my purse. He pulls my long-sleeved shirt over my head revealing my light pink lace bra and the deep red scars. He tosses my shirt onto the floor and looks at my body. He brings his lips to my scars. "You're so beautiful. They're so beautiful, Gracie," he says between kisses. "But-" I start before he cuts me off. "Stop. You're beautiful," he says to me. He kisses in between my breast and down my tummy. When he reaches my jeans, he looks up at and takes his own shirt off. Seeing him on his knees almost worshiping my body sets something off inside of me. I run my fingers through his hair. He kisses the spot just above the button on my jeans, and I sigh.
He slowly unbuttons my jeans and pulls the zipper down revealing my light pink lace undies. I can hear him groan. He tugs the jeans down my legs. "Step out of them," he says when they hit the floor. I do as he says, and he pushes them away. He stands and unbuckles his belt, unbuttons his own jeans, pulls the zipper down, and takes his own off. I can see his erection pressing against his red boxers. It lights a fire in me. I pull him towards me and kiss him...hard. He picks me up, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist. He brings me over to the bed and sets me down gently, being careful because my shoulder is still sore and healing. He hovers over me while we kiss, pressing his pelvis to mine though. "Dammit, I want you so badly," he says when he breaks the kiss. My little voice speaks up, "I...I uh...I brought um...I brought condoms." He looks at me with a different smile, one of admiration and love I think. "Sit up," he says. We both sit up, and he goes to work unhooking my bra. When it's off, he lightly pushes me back down and hooks his thumb in my panties. He pulls them down and flings them across the room. I giggle. "You still have your boxers on," I point out the fact. "Not for long. Are you absolutely, positively sure you want this? I can wait," he asks a little nervously. "Yes, I want this with you, Ty," I look up at him and answer honestly.
"Where are the condoms in your purse?" he asks. "In the main compartment," I answer. He gets off the bed and pulls his boxers down before he reaches for my purse. He's definitely not small like Lani accused him of being. He reaches into my purse and pulls out a condom. I watch him tear the package open, throw away the wrapper, and slide the condom on. "Hey, I'm going to grab some lube to help it hurt less hopefully," he says. He goes to his top drawer and pulls some out then climbs back onto the bed. He squirts some lube into his palm and rubs it onto his condom, then he squirts some onto fingers and rubs me with it. I tremble when he touches where no other man has touched. "You okay?" he asks, concerned. "I'm okay. No one but myself has ever touched me there," I admit to him. I open my legs further and let him settle between them.
"This might hurt a little. Okay?" he says as he positions himself at my hole. "Okay," I nod, trusting him. He pushes into me slowly. I cry out a little from the stinging. "I'm sorry," he says, "do you want me to stop?" "No," I squeak out, "keep going." He keeps pushing in further and further. I know he just broke my hymen because of the pain. I don't know if I'm bleeding though. "I don't think you're going to bleed," he says while looking down when he pulls out. He presses back into me and my breath catches in my throat from the pleasure/pain. He does the same thing a few more times before finding a rhythm. He leans over me and kisses me while thrusting into me at a faster pace. I begin to moan into his mouth. He pulls away and groans. I can feel him losing control. With a few last thrusts, he comes for me. He falls onto me. I hold him to me for a minute or two.
He pushes himself up onto his elbows and pulls out. I whimper at this motion. He slides the condom off, ties it up, and throws it away. He cleans himself off a bit before he comes back to me in bed. I'm still in same position, legs spread for him. He lays down beside me and pulls me close, laying my head on his shoulder. "You know we could make something to eat. I'm starving," he says after a few minutes. "Sure," I'm smile up at him. "Pizza?" he asks. "Let's do it," I say, "I'll race you." And off to the races we were.