by Serena Janes
Anna offered to sit with the patient when she wasn’t busy, and that gave Jo a chance to get out of the house, do a little shopping, and exercise. She started going to the pool to swim laps, which helped her sleep at night. When Luc improved, and was able to hobble around on crutches, she went to a morning Pilates class a few times a week.
And she cooked. Between watching cooking shows on tv and studying cookbooks, Jo was slowly beginning to see an improvement in what she put on the table each night. Luc was still petulant about not being able to eat some of his favorite foods, but he did admit that her cooking was becoming quite good. Her greatest successes were with stews—lamb and chickpea, beef with red wine, pork goulash. If it had to simmer a long time, she could do it.
Since the moment Jo had accepted responsibility for Luc’s accident, she tried to put her own needs to the side. Before the accident, she was focused on—first—getting pregnant and—next—finding the perfect piece of real estate. She’d screwed up the real estate hunt, and hadn’t looked at a single listing the entire time she was nursing Luc. She wouldn’t, she swore, until he was back on his feet and they’d bought another car. There was no way she would ever let him ride his bike on winter roads again.
And, of course, her attempts at conceiving their first child had to be postponed. This was probably the most frustrating part of the entire ordeal. No sex—therefore no baby any time in the near future.
Every time she went into their bedroom—unoccupied now—she glared at the portrait of the Black Madonna hanging over their empty bed. She couldn’t understand why she was still being punished.
I’ve found Luc, and I’m loving him with all my heart. I even love his son. Why can’t we take this thing to the next level? Why can’t we have a child together? A child born out of the perfect love we have for each other. Our love child.
Obviously it would take time for their sex life to get back to what it was before. She had no choice but to accept that, although it was hard. Even as an invalid, Luc was one sexy hunk of man. Living in such close quarters didn’t lessen his appeal to her. In fact, she suffered from frustration when he brushed her off every time she tried to get close to him physically.
Not only did his painkiller dull his pain, it effectively killed his libido. Several times Jo tried to arouse him while she gave him a full-body massage. But nothing she did engaged him.
At first, he was too unsteady on his feet to take a shower. So she had to give him sponge baths, trying to make the process as sexy as she could. Although she got turned on by washing his magnificent body, Luc seemed more embarrassed than aroused. As soon as he could he started getting himself into the bathtub, sitting on a plastic stool while Jo scrubbed his back. Although she offered to strip down and join him, he turned her down.
Disappointed as she was, she was stoic about his lack of interest in all things sexual. He’d come out of it, she knew, as soon as the pain—and the effect of the drugs—lessened. In the meantime, she used the good parts of every day to get to know her husband better.
When he felt like it, he talked nonstop about his childhood, his university experiences, and his travels.
Jo loved hearing about all of it. But she also wanted him to talk about his love life. She needed to put herself into a meaningful context. So she asked him his marriage, and his divorce, the first time her fell in love, and when he lost his virginity.
So he obliged.
* * * *
Luc hated, hated, hated being stuck in bed. The pain in his leg was secondary to the agony of being motionless. His back ached, his legs cramped and his butt grew numb from sitting on it all day long. He was freezing cold, most of the time, but every once in awhile would be overtaken by a wave of feverish discomfort that caused him to throw off his blankets and fleece vest. And then he’d have to call for Joanna to come and take off his socks for him. A few minutes later, he’d want them back on.
The skin under his cast itched. He couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours at a stretch, couldn’t enjoy his food. Joanna wouldn’t let him have any wine, and that made him even more irritable. He missed his coffee, was revolted by the tea she forced on him, and detested having to pee in a bottle.
He knew he was a miserable patient, and he appreciated Joanna’s care, even if he was ashamed at needing it.
But what can I do? That damned doctor ordered bed rest for a week, then limited mobility for another few.
“Putain de merde!” he muttered under his breath every time he thought about missing so much work. He knew he wouldn’t be able to finish his report until he got off the painkillers, and he wouldn’t get off the painkillers until the pain subsided. All he could do was wait it out.
Joanna was surprisingly sweet about everything. Although he knew he was often less than kind to her, he never once saw her get upset, or frustrated, or impatient. She was right there, every time he needed her. She cheerfully did whatever he asked her, no attitude. No moping.
But this unscheduled blip in their plans might actually have some benefits, he realized about five days into his bed rest. They were getting to know each other. And she was proving to be a remarkable woman.
Joanna asked him all kinds of questions about himself, questions that forced him to go far back into his past. It was an interesting exercise, and at the end of it he was left feeling that not only had he shared himself with his wife, but he understood himself a little better, too.
“No one has ever asked me about my first time, before. And I’ve never volunteered the tale, either. I guess I was a bit unsure that it was normal,” he told her.
“What do you mean, normal?” Jo asked. She had just lit a fire and was serving them both from a large pot of chamomile tea. Knowing she had almost two good hours ahead of her, she snuggled down on the rug beside his bed, and stared at the fire, Sammy curled up beside her.
“Well—I was very young. Only fifteen. And my lover was probably in her mid thirties. I don’t know,” he said, laughing. “I never asked.”
“Tell me more.”
The fact that Joanna was looking at the fire, and not at him, relaxed Luc. He began at the beginning.
“I was crazy about soccer when I was a kid. You already know that. And I played both in and out of school. Every day during the school year, unless the weather was impossible, I’d be out there on the pitch after my classes. Practicing with the rest of the team, running back and forth until I’d be ready to drop.
“I don’t know how long she’d been watching me, but sometime before my sixteenth birthday I became aware of a woman who lived nearby. Her back yard bordered on our pitch. Her kitchen window actually gave her a pretty good view of the entire playing field.”
He stopped to sip some tea, made a face, then put it down.
“You’d better drink that, mister. Or there’ll be trouble.”
“So one day I guess she was in her yard doing some gardening or something, and I saw her just sort of standing there, looking in my direction. At first I thought she was looking at someone else. You know, someone behind me. But then she smiled and I just knew she was smiling at me.”
“I bet you were already a drop-dead gorgeous kid, weren’t you?”
“I guess. I mean, girls always liked me.”
“How tall were you?”
“I was getting close to six feet by then. That was about the time I started noticing women looking at me. Not just girls, but women my mother’s age.”
“How did you like that?”
“At first I was confused. But I got over that in a hurry. That’s when I learned how to flirt. They taught me.” He laughed then, remembering those early crushes.
“And who was this particular woman?”
“I didn’t even know, for the longest time. All I knew was that she was married, her husband traveled a lot, she didn’t have any children for some reason, and she was lonely, stuck in the house all day by herself.”
“What was her name?”
“Patrice.”
“So how did Patrice seduce you?”
“Slowly, actually. After that first smile, I started looking for her every time I played that pitch. And she always seemed to be there, either in her yard, or standing in the window, holding the curtain back, watching me, smiling. Then one day she called out to me as my practice was winding up. She asked me if I knew how to repair the broken latch on her gate. And one thing led to another…”
He picked up his cold tea and finished it off in one go. Then he was quiet.
“Don’t stop now!” Jo turned to him, an expression of disappointment on her face. “Come on. Share, please. I want to know exactly what she did to you. And then I want to know what you did to her.”
“Okay, if you really want to hear it. I went over to look at the gate and could see how to repair it easily enough. I told her I needed a screwdriver. She went into the house and came out with a couple of different kinds. Then she watched me fix the latch, which was just a little loose.”
“What did she look like?”
“She was, um, sort of average sized. Pretty, with dark hair, like yours.”
“Good figure?”
“Very good. But then in those days I wasn’t too discriminating. I liked all women.”
Joanna laughed and poured herself another cup of tea.
“Did she look like me at all?”
Luc paused before he answered. “Maybe. A little. What are you suggesting?”
“Nothing,” Jo said with a feigned innocence. “Just curious.”
“I guess you could say she looked a little like you. I thought she was beautiful.”
“What happened after the screwdriver?”
“She thanked me and asked if I would like to join her in a glass of wine.”
Jo laughed. “In some US states she’d be sent to jail for that.”
“I know,” Luc said. “But we French are more relaxed about such things.”
“How much wine did you have?”
“Just the one. Then she invited me to come back for another drink after my next practice.”
“And you went.”
“I sure did.”
“And then what happened?”
“Two glasses of wine.”
“Don’t tease me! Then what?”
“She started to tell me what a big handsome young man I was, how mature for my age—she knew I was only fifteen. Then she asked me if I was a virgin. I must have blushed when I said yes, because she seemed to know exactly what to do to make me feel like a man.”
“Specifically?”
“Specifically? Okay, um, she started touching me in a way that I hadn’t been touched before.”
“Where?”
“I don’t remember, exactly, but maybe my hair, then my chest. My arms. And she was speaking the whole time, telling me how big and strong I was. How hard my muscles were. You know, stuff like that. And I was hard. I think I’d had a hard on from the minute I walked into her house.”
“What were you wearing?”
“My soccer gear. Jersey, shorts.”
“So she could see a raging boner from a long way off.”
“I guess.”
“What was she wearing?”
“I have no idea.”
“We’re you standing or sitting when this was going on?”
“Standing, I think.”
“What happened next?”
“She kissed me. Then she stuck her tongue in my mouth and I almost came in my pants. So I sort of grabbed her and we kissed some more and she started rubbing her breasts into my chest and then I did.”
“Did what?”
“Come in my pants.”
Luc heard Jo stifle a giggle. “It wasn’t funny, at the time. I felt like a real jerk. But she was very good to me. She calmed me down, said it was normal and everything. Then she started the whole process over again. But this time she jerked me off.”
“So you were okay with that?”
“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? It was great.”
“Then did you leave?”
“Yeah, but the next day—guess what? There she was, standing behind her kitchen curtain, smoking a cigarette, blowing the smoke out the window, watching. Smiling. And waiting, I knew now. When the practice was done I trotted over there and found the door ajar. I walked in and she was waiting for me in this silky kind of housecoat. I guessed she was naked underneath, and you can imagine what happened then.”
“I can, but I want you to tell me. Exactly.”
Luc laughed. “You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?”
“Does that bother you?”
“Not at all. We drank some wine, she climbed onto my lap and kissed me some more. This time I managed to control myself a little longer. She opened her robe and showed me her breasts. It was the first time I’d been so close to a woman’s breasts. She placed my hand on them, and I rubbed them. I was surprised at how soft they were. I guess I’d always thought they’d feel like a rubber ball, or something.”
Slowly Jo unbuttoned her blouse and pulled one of Luc’s hands inside. He began to caress her breasts as he spoke.
“And then?”
“She asked me to stand up, and when I did she pulled down my pants.”
“How did that feel?”
“Fucking amazing. Then she knelt down in front of me and kissed me.”
“Just zoomed right in on your cock?”
“No, not exactly. She was gentle and slow and had me so worked up that I blew my load as soon as she took me in her mouth. I thought the back of my head would explode. It felt that good.”
Jo wriggled her blouse off and undid her bra, giving Luc’s hand full access to her breasts now.
“Sounds pretty exciting,” she said as she snuggled closer to him.
“It was.”
“So did you go back every day?”
“Almost. Sometimes her husband was home, but he’d never be there for more than three or four days in a row. Sometimes I was away playing in tournaments, and things like that. But I kept going to her at least a couple of times a week for a few years.”
“And was it Patrice who taught you the fine art of cunnilingus? You know you’ve been taught by a master—or a mistress, I should say.”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me about the first time you went down on her. How long did it take for her to get you down there?”
“I can’t remember. Not long, I guess. At first she would suck me off while my fingers played with her pussy. I didn’t know what I was doing, so she probably wasn’t able to come. So then we graduated to fucking.”
“Do you remember the first time you fucked her?”
“Oh yeah.”
“What do you remember the best?”
“How hot she was. Inside her body, I mean. It was almost summer so it was warm in the room, but when I shoved my cock inside her it felt so amazingly hot and slippery. I probably came in an instant. I don’t remember.”
Jo stood up and unzipped her jeans. She pulled Luc’s hand into the opening and he started to rub her belly. “And when did you first taste her pussy?”
“Probably not long after that. The first few times she sort of directed me through it. She explained all the bits, what they were for, how sensitive each part was, stuff like that.”
“Uh huh. Keep talking.” Jo slipped out of her jeans and pulled her panties down to her ankles, kicking them to the side. Then, to Luc’s surprise, she climbed up on the side of his narrow bed and, careful not to place any weight on him, swung a leg over his body, straddling his face.
“Show me what you learned,” she said breathlessly, hanging onto the headboard of the bed for balance.
He smelled the saltwater musk of her cunt, and wondered why female genitalia smelled of the sea. He liked it, and began to kiss her trimmed pubic hair lightly, causing her to moan softly.
“Show me,” she urged.
“First of all,” he said into her bush, “I learned where the magic button hides.”
With this, he flicked his tongue at Jo’s clit, causing her to give a little jump.
“Good. Good. Then what?”
He raised his hands and carefully separated her lips, exposing her fully. He kissed them, running his tongue down to the entrance of her vagina, flicking softly as he went. He could feel her shuddering as he flattened his tongue and licked her again, from her opening up to the base of her clitoris, feeling her labia plump with excitement. She pulled back, breathing hard.
“And I learned that these lips love to be licked, and sucked.” He touched them lightly with a forefinger. “They’re not particularly sensitive at first. But when they’re kissed, when they’re stroked and sucked, then they grow fat and aroused. Is that right?”
“Mmmph.”
“And then the juices start to flow,” he added as he pulled her back down onto his face and thrust his tongue inside her as far as he could. She wiggled and moaned and tried to pull back. But he held her hips tightly, grinding his face into her cunt, lapping at what he could reach of her vaginal walls.
“Luc, I want to come. Now!”
He pushed her away from him again. “No, no. I’ve not finished my lesson. When a woman has been caressed and kissed and sucked into full arousal—all without touching her little pearl button, of course—then all you have to do is lick or suck it oh-so-gently and she’ll come all over your face.”
“Show me,” she panted, straining to lower herself.
“Already?” he asked with fake surprise.
“Yes, please. It’s been so long…”
He smiled and pulled her back so that he could torment her clit with little circular licks. When he felt it elongate and grow hard, he took it between his lips and sucked gently as she bucked and jerked and cried out.
Luc noticed that, unlike his dog, Sammy didn’t even bother to look up when Jo made her come noises.
When her trembling subsided, he helped his wife slide down alongside him and fit herself into the sliver of space available on the mattress. Then she tried to hug him. “That was amazing.” She was still breathing hard. “Thank you, Patrice,” she said to the ceiling.
