by Tia Siren
But she didn't. When she realized that I was taking them off on my own accord, she took them off herself, slipping out of them in one simple motion. I let off an involuntary gasp as my eyes found their way to her plump pussy. It was already dripping. I could see it on the table. Gleaming.
Again, my fingers made their way down to her lips. As I kissed her neck and bit her ears, I ran my hand on the outside of her pussy. It was soaking, and each time I pressed on its lips, she shook and quivered. She wanted me to push my fingers inside of her. And I was going to, but not right away.
Yet again, Kate took control. She ran her hand through my hair before pushing my head down. It caught me off guard, as most women weren't wont to do that. But Kate wasn't most women. I willingly fell to my knees, licking my lips as my eyes came face to face with her pussy. It seemed to throb as I blew hot air onto it. It seemed to quake and call for me.
Smiling to myself, delighted by the situation I found myself in, I plunged my head between her thighs. My tongue broke through her lips straight away, pushing its way into her pussy. It was warm and tasted sweet.
I ran my tongue up the inside of her until I found the clit. It vibrated as the tip of my tongue ran over it, and as it did, her hand grabbed me by the hair, and she let off a tremendous moan. So, I did it again.
Each time my tongue stroked her clit, she reacted. Her thighs closed around my head, threatening to squash me, and yet I continued. I could feel her breathing intensify. I could hear it, too. If I stayed where I was and kept doing what I was doing, then she would, without a doubt, come all over my face and mouth. And as much as I would have loved that, I had other plans for her.
I pulled my face from between her, getting to my feet. The moment I did, I kissed her deeply on the mouth. As we kissed, it was her hands that found my pants and helped me out of them. It was her hands that pulled my cock from its trappings and squeezed it, making sure it was nice and hard.
Her hand ran itself up and down my shaft, stroking it. As one hand worked my head, the other cupped my balls. My knees shook from the intensity. She licked her hand, running it over my shaft again. She continued to move it, up and down, making sure I was as hard as possible.
I had never had a hand job like that, and I would have loved to have sat back and let her finish. But I had to be inside of her. I grabbed her around the waist, pulling her from the bench. As soon as her feet hit the ground, I spun her around, biting into her neck.
My cock was pressed up against her butt. I took a second to admire it, too, her rear. She had always been athletic, and her booty, big and round, was a testament to that. A perfect peach that I wanted to eat.
She moved her ass up and down on my cock, teasing it. Her hand then reached back, grabbing it by the shaft. As she did, she cocked one leg, raising it just enough so she could guide my meat between her legs. My head pressed against her lips. It entered a fraction of an inch before being pulled away. She rubbed it on her wet lips. She pushed it against her clit. She wanted to make me beg. But I wasn't going to.
Before long, she gave in to her own machinations. She finally relented, sitting back and letting my cock slide up inside of her. The way that her pussy lips wrapped around my shaft was divine as she swallowed the entire thing. I put both hands on her shoulders, pulling her all the way down onto my member.
Once I was fully inside of her, all the way to the base, I released her shoulders, allowing her to stand back up. And then, once the head of my cock was about to pop back out, I grabbed her shoulders again and pulled her back down.
Again and again, we continued this charade. She bobbed up and down on my penis. Her movements increased in speed each time I slid inside of her. Her breathing intensified. Her moans became louder. Before long, her knees began to shake, and her entire body shivered.
As it did, I felt a strange sensation in my toes. They tingled. This tingling worked its way up my legs and to my balls. I began to pump her even harder. My hand found its way around her waist and onto her clit. Giving it a rub, she yelped in delight as a shock surged up her body.
She continued to bounce, her free hand wrapping around mine that worked her clit. She didn't want me to stop. So I didn’t. The two of us writhed and convulsed as my entire body caught fire.
"I want you to come with me," she moaned.
"Whatever you want," I somehow sputtered between movements.
And we did. The moment I felt her body give in and explode, I erupted. Hot, sticky come poured from the end of my cock, filling her up as she screamed and threw her head back. Her entire body clammed up. Her pussy clenched around my cock, not letting it go. Both her hands shot out, gripping the table as she tried to steady herself. And all the while, she refused to let me out of her.
It wasn't until several minutes after we were both done that she finally relented, pulling herself from my cock. And even then, it was several minutes more before she turned back around, throwing her arms over me as she practically collapsed.
I lifted her up and carried her to the bed, falling into it, with her still in my arms. The whole while, she seemed to shake from the intensity of the session. And even as we lay in bed, she wrapped herself in my arms, and I could feel her body shivering.
"I guess you forgive me?" I joked.
She didn't respond. Not with words anyway. Instead, she looked into my eyes, a serious expression in them. She more than forgave me. From that moment on, the two of us weren't doctor and patient having an affair. We were lovers. There was no going back.
--
I laid awake for most of the night. As Kate slept peacefully in my arms, there was one thought that I could not get out of my head. Any day, or any moment, Kate might get her memory back, and when that happened, my life would be over.
I had underestimated how head over heels I was going to fall for Kate. I knew that I loved her. I had just forgotten what that love felt like. I had forgotten how poisonous it could be. I didn't think that it would be so easy to get her back, and now that I had her, I dreaded what was going to happen when I lost her.
When I first made my plan, it seemed to make perfect sense. Make her fall back in love with me so that when she got her memory back, she would have all new feelings for me. Feelings that she hopefully couldn't ignore. But now, I wasn't so sure. Now, I felt that maybe I had made things worse.
There were two things I could do, and I had spent the whole night debating them. The first was to come clean and let her know what I had done. If I did that, telling her everything, then maybe she would forgive me. Maybe she would like me enough to see it in her heart to keep seeing me.
The second option was to double down on my plan. If I kept on improving on what was already turning into a great relationship, then surely, she would love me even when her memory came back. Maybe it never would come back. If I wasn’t such a coward, I would have told her the truth. But I am a coward. A coward, desperately in love.
As she lay in bed, still sound asleep, I opted to make her breakfast. Nothing fancy, just bacon, eggs, and toast. But it was the thought that counted, and I hoped that she would see that. I had made a few mistakes as a boyfriend when I dated her the first time, and I was determined to make them up.
The biggest mistake that I had made was putting the hospital over her. I already admitted this fault last night, and it was something that I was determined to see through. Heck, I was even considering taking some time off so the two of us could go on a vacation, if we lasted that long. But, like I said, I was willing to do anything.
I had just finished cooking up the eggs when my pager went off again. I grimaced as I felt it vibrate against my thigh. My plan was to check it out, find any way to palm it off, and then join Kate back in bed. But when I saw the message, I knew that I had to get to the hospital straight away.
The man that was in the car crash with Kate was finally awake. Not only that, but he was asking for Kate, too. It seemed that he had something he desperately needed to talk to her about.
CHAPTER 12
KATE
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and although it was hot, it wasn't that level of hot where one dripped sweat through their clothes as they walked. There was a soft breeze that was strong enough to cool me down as I walked, but not so strong that it blew my hair everywhere. Even the people seemed to be in on the act as they didn't overcrowd me as I walked and very few shouted or swore within my vicinity.
Yes, it was a glorious day, and there was nothing that was going to stop it.
The glory that was the day really began the previous night, with Liam apologizing. That, in itself, was shocking, and something that I would have never seen coming. I mean, what man apologizes for his own actions? Totally unheard of. And, just to add icing on the cake, he then proceeded to bestow untold pleasures on me, as if trying to prove a point. He knew that he had messed up and wanted to make it right.
The sex that we had was mind bending and like nothing I had had before, or at least, I assume that to be the case. It was totally selfless and all about me. Sure, maybe I was a little presumptuous as I forced him to go down on me, but I couldn't help myself. I was sure he was going to and just needed some convincing.
So that was where the great day began, and it only continued as I woke up to find him kneeling on my bed with ready-made breakfast. Sure, he had to go to work, but he was extraordinarily apologetic about it. Besides, that’s what normal people did. They went to work in the morning. I couldn’t ask him to skip work all the time just to fuck me all day.
He even insisted that I meet him for lunch, and that's where I was headed now. I ate his breakfast, which wasn’t a bad effort, spent the morning reading a few more of my stories, and then headed out, eager for a pleasant stroll through the city before meeting Liam for lunch.
I had to admit that every time I read one of my stories, I became more and more impressed with myself. The writing was what got me the most. The actual stories were adequate, but it was the writing that stood out. I got the sense that I was one good story away from writing something that mattered. It was a relief really, considering the job that I had apparently been doing on the side to make ends meet.
Liana insisted that it wasn't as bad as it sounded, being a waitress at a titty bar. Liana seemed to have no trouble showing off the goods, but she swore that I never had to do anything involving nudity or dancing. I just delivered drinks. But the fact that I had to dress provocatively while I waited tables was enough to make me feel ashamed. The whole thing was depressing and sad.
Since being told that this was my job, I hoped I would never have to go back to it ever again. There had to be other options than that. It wasn’t like the money was particularly good. Otherwise, why would I live in such a bad neighborhood in that shitty apartment?
I was the master of my own fate and knew that if I didn’t want to, I would never have to think of this job again. Yet, as I made my way toward the hospital, cutting through Central Park, an all too real reminder saw fit to kick me in the face and let me know where I belonged.
"Hey, Cherry!" I heard the name called out from behind me but didn't bother to respond. My name was Kate, after all, and thus, I saw no reason to.
"Hey, Cherry, slow down, will ya?" The voice called out again, this time closer. Again, I chose to ignore it, assuming that it was for someone else. Even still, I picked my pace up slightly as I powered through the park. That was until a hand grabbed me by the arm, spinning me around.
The owner of the hand was a very rough-looking gentleman, and I use that term only to be polite. In his fifties, with a scruffy beard, dirty gray hair, and sagging off-color skin, he looked as if he had spent the last few nights sleeping in the park. This was only confirmed by his clothes, which were filthy and stunk of B.O. and other odors that I didn't care to place.
"Cherry," he beamed, revealing missing teeth and terrible breath. "I thought it was you. Why didn't you slow down?"
"I'm sorry," I said gently as I pulled my arm from his grip. "I'm afraid that you have the wrong person."
I turned to go, only for him to grab me by the arm again. "No, no, it's me, Gerald. Remember? I used to be your favorite customer at the club. I was in there every weekend. You’d bring me a bottle champagne and sit with me while I drank it. That doesn’t ring a bell?”
I didn't get the sense of danger from him. He looked far too weak and feeble for that. But there was still an underlying dirtiness to his behavior. It was unwelcoming and something that I wanted to distance myself from as quickly as possible.
"Again, you're mistaken. That wasn't—"
"It was you!" he yelled, his temper rising. "Don't say it wasn't! Just because you aren’t wearing that red wig doesn’t mean I don’t recognize you!"
He stopped short. I don't know if it was the shocked, terrified expression in my face, or something else, but as quickly as he had exploded, he suddenly calmed down. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I shouldn't have yelled."
He let go of my arm, and I pulled it into me like a lost babe. "That's fine," I said, my eyes scanning the area for any other signs of life. If I didn't think the man to be so unstable, I might have turned and run for it. But I didn't want to provoke him.
"You probably don't recognize me,” he said sadly. “I've changed a fair bit since then." He gestured at his clothes and general appearance. "A few bad investments, a wife that met another man, and a serious coke problem later, and here I am."
Despite myself, I suddenly felt sorry for the man. He fell to the ground in a slump, burying his head in his hands. I looked around, knowing that I could have run and easily gotten away. But instead, I crouched down, reaching out and patting him on the leg. "Hey, don't worry. It's not you really. It's me. I've been having a hard time with my memory lately."
"Really?" he asked, seeming a little more comforted by the information. "I thought you might have remembered. Reminds me of a better time, ya know?"
"I'm sure it was a lovely time," I tried, patting him on the leg again. To this he beamed, wiping his eyes.
"You seem like a smart lady. Let me give you some advice. Take what you can get, when you can get it. You never know when life is going to kick you in the balls, or wherever it is that life kicks you in."
I stayed with the man for a few more moments, just because he seemed to enjoy the company, and I felt bad for him. But after I left him, finally making my way toward the hospital, I couldn't stop thinking about what he said.
First off, the fact that he and I had been friendly at the strip club I worked at was disheartening. Liana had told me I never did anything but take orders and deliver drinks. But apparently, this man and I had been something like friends. He seemed comfortable enough with me to approach me and grab me out on the street. I didn’t like that one bit. Even if he was in a worse state now than before, he still seemed like the type of character that I would have usually tried to avoid.
But the main thing that stuck with me were his words of wisdom. He was right, too. When you had something worth holding on to, it was best not to let go. From what I could tell, my old life wasn't a desirable one, by any means. And the more I thought about it, the more I was inclined to think that maybe this bout of amnesia was one of the better things to happen to me.
Sure, I had no idea who I was. But did that matter? I knew now where I was going. I was going to be a writer. Seeing that customer only hammered home how terrible a life someone can have after a few bad mistakes are made, and I wasn't going to let my life be a cautionary tale for others.
On top of that, I had to count my blessings that I had Liam in my life now. He had a stable job and seemed to be crazy about me, especially for someone whom I had known for such a short time. But funnily enough, I was crazy about him, too. It felt like I had known him for ages, and to me, that was always a sign that I had found the right one. I mean, probably. I couldn’t remember finding the right one before. But somehow, even without a memory, I knew I was right.
With Liam by my side, supporting
me, I was sure that I would never have to go back to that life that I had left behind. And more than that, I was sure that I would finally be able to achieve that life that I deserved. There wasn't much that love couldn't do.
CHAPTER 13
LIAM
My biggest fear was that he would jog Kate's memory. I had no idea how close he and Kate actually were, and thus, had to operate under the assumption that he knew enough about her to totally derail our relationship. I couldn’t let that happen. Not when things were going so well.
My second fear was that he and Kate were an item. There was no reason that they couldn't be, and every reason that they would be. If he remembered Kate and they were dating, there was no way that he would let her go without a fight. And if it came to that, well, I didn't know who would win.
All of these thoughts raged in my head as I made my way toward the hospital that morning, under the full knowledge that the man responsible for Kate's amnesia was awake and talking. He had awoken a few hours ago and had apparently been asking for Kate non-stop. Even if they weren't dating, he obviously knew her pretty well.
I had no idea what I was going to do.
The hospital was, as always, pure chaos when I arrived. And that was before I got to the ICU. The ICU was always the busiest, most kinetically charged portion of the hospital. Not only were there patients crashing left and right, with nurses and doctors streaming across the room to try and save them, but there were also the families of the victims. They were always on site and always in the way. They had little concern for the patients that they weren't there for and weren't afraid to get in one’s face if they thought they were being ignored.
So yes, the ICU was an intense, high-pressure room at the best of times. As I entered it, I felt that my blood was already up. The only calming factor was Clint, already there. He was standing toward the back of the room, watching the car crash victim with curiosity.
