by Noelle Adams
It’s late when we get back, and I’m feeling very tired. I never stay out this late, and I can barely keep my eyes open on the drive back.
But I don’t want the evening to end yet. He’s made such an effort tonight. I can make an effort too. I want to be with him in every way.
He leans down to kiss me at my door, and I wrap my arms around him. “Are you tired?” he murmurs against my lips.
“A little,” I admit, not wanting to completely lie to him. “Do you want to come in for a cup of tea or anything?” Maybe tea will revive me enough for us to progress to the rest of the night.
“Sure.” He smiles and follows me inside.
The tea helps a little, but not much. And soon I’m trailing off whenever I try to say something to him.
“You’re exhausted,” he says at last, straightening up and looking at me fondly. “You should go to bed.”
“Oh. Did you … did you want to spend the night with me?”
He pauses for a few seconds. “Are you sure?”
“I am. I really want to spend the night with you.”
This seems to really please him, and I’m feeling both happy and sleepy as he leaves for a few minutes to go to his room to get ready for bed.
He comes back with a zippered pouch, which he tells me is his toothbrush and his medication for the morning.
This makes perfect sense to me.
I’ve changed into a pretty dark red nightgown, and I take off my robe rather shyly, aware that he’s watching me.
The night seems very silent, the room very dark when we turn out the lights.
He pulls me into his arms, and we kiss for a minute. It’s lovely, but I just can’t concentrate.
“You’re too tired,” he murmurs, after he pulls away. His face is close to mine in the darkness.
“I’m sorry. I’m just not used to such late nights.”
“I know. Let’s go to sleep.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. To tell you the truth, I’m tired too.”
There’s a dry note in his tone that proves he’s telling the truth. I laugh softly and give him a hug. Then I turn over onto my side and he spoons me from behind.
It’s very nice to fall asleep like this, to know that he’s loving me, even as we drift off.
And I figure it’s okay to not have had a steamy evening, even though I thought it would be.
There’s always tomorrow, after all.
The next morning, I wake up aware that Dave has gotten out of the bed. A quick glance at the clock shows it’s almost five.
I’m usually up before now. I did wake up a couple of times during the night to go to the bathroom, but that’s normal and I fell right back to sleep.
I feel rested now, and I would feel comfortable if I didn’t have to pee.
I hear the toilet flush and the water running from the bathroom. And then after a few minutes, Dave comes back into the room and crawls into bed beside me. It smells like he’s brushed his teeth.
I get up immediately, since now I really have to go. I brush my teeth too, and then I brush my hair before I go back to bed.
He’s awake. I can see his eyes open since I leave the bathroom light on like last time.
It casts a pleasing glow into the room—dim but not dark.
“How do you feel this morning?” he asks as I crawl back under the covers and roll over so I’m facing him.
“Pretty good. How about you?”
“I feel great.”
“Good.” Smiling, I scoot over so I can brush my fingers over his face. “I always have more energy in the mornings.”
“Me too.” He reaches out to kiss me, and we both know what we want, so it gets deep quicker than usual. Soon he has me rolled over onto my back. He’s on his side, leaning over enough to keep kissing me.
“I went to the doctor earlier this week,” I say rather breathlessly as his hand runs up and down my body.
“I know.”
There’s a particular timbre to his voice that I recognize. “But you don’t know what I asked her.”
“I might have an idea.”
I gasp slightly and pull out of the kiss. “You do?”
“I know how to put two and two together.” He’s smiling now, and I love the mingling of humor and fondness, teasing and deep understanding I see in his expression.
I give an exaggerated sniff. “If you’re going to be smug about it, then maybe I don’t want to do anything about my doctor’s appointment.”
He chuckles and leans back down to kiss me. “I think maybe you do.”
That kind of ego shouldn’t be rewarded, but I’m too full of affection to put up much of a fight. I soften into the kiss, and our tongues start to glide together deliciously.
He’s fondling one of my breasts. It all feels really good.
He seems to be taking his time, and I start to worry that he thinks I need a lot of coddling in order to get into the mood. So I say, “I’m good, Dave. You can start any time.”
“I have started.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant. But we’re going to take care of you first.”
I feel a little shiver of excitement, but I say, “Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to.” He raises his head with a wry look. “The truth is, I need to wait thirty to sixty minutes anyway.”
My breath catches in my throat as I realize what he means. My eyes go wide. “You took a pill!”
He looks adorably sheepish. “I may have done.”
I’m laughing as I hug him. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know. But I talked to the PA a few days ago, and she says it could help, if I’m worried. I just want to make sure it’s good for you.”
I’m so full of such a mingling of feeling that I can hardly contain it. “It’s always good.”
“I’m glad. But I’ve been kind of wanting to try it, anyway.”
“Okay. We’ll try it.”
“So I might as well kill a little time in the meantime.” He’s smiling again, evidently relieved by my reaction.
That sounds like a perfectly reasonable idea to me.
He seems determined to bring me pleasure this morning, and he spends a lot of time kissing and caressing me. I enjoy all of it, my body buzzing pleasantly in response. I don’t know if I can reach orgasm, though. It’s not something that happens to me much anymore. I know he wants me to, and I don’t want to disappoint him, but my body isn’t what it used to be.
When Dave pushes up my nightgown and slides down my underwear, I feel a little anxious. I enjoy being intimate with him, but this is different—this is more.
To hide the anxiety, I reach over and pull the lubricant out of the nightstand drawer. “Here. The doctor suggested I use this.”
Dave seems to think this is a good idea, as he squeezes some out onto his hands before he starts to stroke between my legs.
I’d been thinking he was ready to move on to his portion of events, but evidently not. He keeps stroking me as he leans down to suckle at one of my breasts.
Both at once feels very nice, and the additional moisture allows him to slide his fingers inside me. It’s good. Really good. I breathe to stay relaxed. I’m not really expecting to come, but I might as well enjoy it. Even after a couple of minutes, he continues the ministration.
My pulse is quickening, though, and I’m so focused on breathing and staying relaxed that the orgasm hits me unexpectedly.
I cry out as the pleasure hits me, and I try to stifle it by turning my head into the pillow. But my body responds as it’s made to respond, shaking and tightening and then relaxing deliciously.
Dave is smiling broadly as my mind starts to clear again and I stretch out with the kind of satisfaction I haven’t felt in a really long time.
“Don’t get smug,” I tell him with a narrow-eyed look.
He laughs and pulls himself up so he can kiss me. “You didn’t think I
could do it.”
“I never said so.”
“But you were thinking it.”
“Maybe. My body isn’t what it was.”
He shakes his head. “Your body is perfect.”
“You’re such a liar.” Despite my words, I can’t help but caress his face, his head, his shoulders. I want to touch him all over. I want to somehow express how full my heart is.
“It’s not a lie if I believe it.”
He means it. There’s no way for me to deny it. With a throaty sound, I pull him down into a deep kiss.
As we kiss, he repositions himself so he’s lying between my legs. He rocks against me lightly, and I can feel that his body has been responding too.
I reach down to stroke him, pleased and surprised to find that he’s already much harder than I’ve felt him before. “I think that pill is working.”
He groans in pleasure and rolls over, pushing down his pants so I can better reach his erection.
Both of our eyes widen as we see the effect the pill has had.
“Well, look at that,” Dave says.
I burst into laughter at the awed note in his tone. Then he laughs too, and he rolls over to kiss me again. “I have condoms if you want to use one,” he murmurs as he pulls away from my lips at last. “But I have a clean bill of health from the doctor.”
“So do I. We’ll be fine. Just … just be careful. It’s been a really long time for me.”
“It’s been a long time for me too,” he admits, reaching over for the lubricant again.
It’s not nearly as scary as I thought it would be. He positions himself between my legs in a way that’s basically comfortable for both of us, although he’ll obviously have to do more of the work. The lubricant and my earlier orgasm have helped enough that it’s not uncomfortable for me when he slowly maneuvers himself in.
We’re both breathing heavily and looking each other in the eyes when he starts to rock slowly.
It feels good. And natural. And like we’re loving each other. Even more so when he leans down to kiss me.
He doesn’t move fast or hard, and the pill has helped enough that he can last a long time. There’s no way I’m going to come again, but it feels really good, and I hear myself making silly huffs and sounds as we rock together. He’s grunting too. We can’t talk, but we don’t need to talk. Anything we said would be irrelevant.
We’re in this together, and both of us know it.
Eventually, his body starts to tighten more. He pulls out of the kiss and accelerates his breathing and his thrusts at the same time.
It’s getting a little uncomfortable now for me as the lubricant starts to wear off, but not enough to make me want to stop. I love how he looks as he takes his pleasure in me, as he lets go of his restraint.
His whole body clenches and then releases as the pleasure spreads out on his face. I pull him down into a hug when he comes, breathing out my name and that he loves me.
I love him too.
More than I thought I could love anyone.
As we relax together afterward, I suddenly hate the fact that we no longer have a lifetime to spend together.
thirteen
We spend a couple of hours in bed, relaxing and recovering.
Dave seems really pleased with himself, and it reminds me how much men look to their erections for their identities. He’s been happy with me all this time. I know he has. Even without intercourse. But he’s also really proud that he’s been able to perform this way.
It’s just after six now. We have plenty of time to dress and get to breakfast on time. I want to take a shower, and Dave does too, so we go our separate ways, planning to meet up before we go to the dining room.
I’m a little sore. My thigh and abdomen muscles are very tired. It’s been a while since I’ve used them like that. But I feel good overall after I take a shower, and I’m looking forward to seeing Dave again.
Since he hasn’t come to my door at five minutes to seven, I leave and walk over to his. I feel like I have a juicy secret as I greet the staff and residents I pass in the hall. I wonder if they have any idea about the kind of morning I’ve had.
I used to feel this way a lot—when I was young and had a particularly good sexual interlude. It’s startling that I should feel the same way now, but the feeling is almost exactly the same.
Dave is just coming out of his door when I reach it.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, checking to make sure his door is locked.
“It’s fine. I was ready early, so I figured I’d save you the walk.” I look at him closely. He’s a little pale. “Are you feeling okay?”
He raises his eyebrows. “I’m fine.”
“You look—I don’t know—tired or something.”
“I guess I could be a little tired.” He gives me a secretive smile. “I don’t know why I would be.”
I smile back, feeling better. “We can take it easy this morning and get some rest.”
We head to the dining room and take our normal table, where we’re joined shortly by Gordon and another pleasant lady about my age named Veronica. Dave is quieter than normal as we eat, and he still looks a little pale to me, but he’s probably just tired.
I’m tired too. I think I’ll be taking a midmorning nap today.
Breakfast is relaxed. Dave gets up to get me a refill on my water glass. I’ve drunk the whole thing, feeling unusually thirsty. There are servers who go around and handle refills, but they aren’t as ever-present as in a restaurant, and the drinks are always set up on the table against the wall near the kitchen.
I watch Dave as he walks back. I love the lines of his body and the shape of his face and the color of his eyes. But he’s definitely looking pale this morning. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken that pill.
As he nears the table, I see that his hand trembles slightly as it holds the glass of water.
I should have gotten up on my own to get more water. I shouldn’t have let him do it for me, even though he offered before I even thought about it.
His hands don’t usually shake.
As I’m having that thought, the glass of water falls out of his hand to crash to the floor and spill all over his shoes, the bottom of his pants, the carpet.
I’m about to make a gentle joke—since that helps when people are clumsy, as many of us are sometimes around here—but then Dave falls down too, next to the empty water glass.
He just slides to the floor.
There’s a rush of noise, as several people jump up and a few women give little cries of surprise and distress.
I’m too shocked to do anything immediately.
Dave is lying there on the floor. He doesn’t appear conscious. And my first thought is paralyzing: I’m sure he must be dead.
Dave isn’t dead. There’s no way I can express my relief when I realize this is so.
Two of the staff members run over to him, and the nurse is summoned. They determine he is alive but unconscious, and the nurse says it looks like one of those episodes he had before.
It’s not long before they declare him stable and get him on his way to the hospital.
Several people are fussing over me, and they’re really getting on my nerves. I feel cold and rather stunned, but I’m not the one who just passed out like that. A few people encourage me to stay here and rest until I hear how Dave is doing and am able to go visit him.
That’s the most ridiculous advice I’ve ever heard. I’m not so old that a scare like this will send me to my bed. And I’m not about to stay here when Dave is in the hospital.
So I drive my car over to the hospital by myself. The hospital is only ten minutes away, and I don’t want anyone with me, fussing and getting on my nerves.
I ask about Dave at the front desk, and they direct me to a waiting area. I’m waiting there when Kevin comes in, looking hassled and urgent.
I’m about to get up and go over to speak to him when a nurse comes out and summons him back. He glances at me, and I’m sure he s
ees me, but he doesn’t say anything.
So I wait some more.
When I see the nurse again, I go over and ask her about Dave. She looks sympathetic but says that, since I’m not family, I can’t see him yet.
Back I go to sit down and wait.
It’s terrible. After about an hour, every joint in my body aches, and there’s no way I can get comfortable in the chair. Kevin hasn’t made a reappearance. No one tells me anything.
If Dave is conscious, surely he’d be asking for me. But maybe he’s still unconscious. Maybe he’s slipped into a coma. Maybe he’s already dead.
I’m shaking with nerves and emotions, and I can’t help but wonder what I’ve done to myself—falling in love with someone when neither of us has very much longer to live. Whatever we have can’t last very long. We’re just setting ourselves up for pain.
It was so much easier before—when there was just me to worry about. I was alone, but at least I was secure and wouldn’t have my heart torn out like this.
I’ve been waiting more than two hours when I finally see John Martin walking through the double doors and down the hall that leads past this waiting area. I jump up so quickly my hip catches, and I let out a little sound of pain.
He looks over, immediately recognizes me, and approaches.
“Are you all right?” His eyes study my face with professional efficiency.
“Yes. I’m fine. I’ve been waiting to hear news about Dave. Are you here to see him?”
“Yes, I was just with him.” He frowns. “Has no one come to talk to you?”
“No. I’m not family, so they wouldn’t let me back at first. I saw Kevin earlier, but …”
Dr. Martin shakes his head. “He left a little while ago, since Dave is stable. He’s sleeping now.”
I let out a breath of relief. “He’s okay?”
“I think so. It’s one of those episodes. He’s had them periodically. It’s something neurological, but we’re having trouble pinning down what causes it and how to address it.”
I take another deep breath. Then I say, a little hesitantly, “He … he took a pill this morning.”
