Sleeping Beauty A Novelette

by Genevieve Jourdin

  Sleeping Beauty A Novelette

  By Genevieve Jourdin

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter One

  Do you know how frustrating it is to not be able to get off when you really want to? Well, it sucks.

  I have spent the past two weeks in a state of torture. I haven’t been in pain, but until yesterday I was in a coma. The torture was being able to hear, feel, think, and even smell (my boss really needs to invest in a new perfume). The worst part though, has been my constant longing for sex. I don’t even know how it happened. Well, I know how I came to be in a coma, I got beaned by a stray softball while sitting on the bench outside of the library during my lunch break. The relentless sexual thoughts were a completely different development, however. Shortly after my injury I heard a voice that changed my life.

  The strange thing was that voice belongs to my friend Kyle. He came by to visit me in the evenings before he left for home. Kyle’s a dermatologist and has an office across the street from the hospital. I met him years ago when I went to see him for a horrible case of acne that popped up during my senior year in college. He fixed up my face, and when we met up at my brother’s engagement party a few years ago, we struck up a friendship born of being the two shyest people in the place. It had started out a little awkward for me since he had seen me at my worst--stressed and pimply, but luckily I got over the self-consciousness and gained a pretty solid friend. Ours has been a strictly platonic situation. That’s why the nature of my feelings was wigging me out. I just never thought of him that way. He’s plain ol’ Kyle, not bad looking, but not the type of man that attracted me.

  At first, I was just thankful that he was coming by and talking to me. There wasn’t anything particularly exciting going on in his life; acne, psoriasis, eczema, the usual. Not exactly titillating conversational topics. He talked to me like we were sitting in my living room or at the sport’s bar that we sometimes met up at for Happy Hour drinks. I couldn’t respond to him, of course, but it felt like I was normal for that little bit of time.

  But here’s the part that turned my mild-mannered librarian life upside down. He started reading me erotic romance novels. Romance novels are my drug of choice; I’ve always got one or two going on my e-reader. In fact, that’s probably what got me in this situation. If I had been paying attention to the kids playing ball instead of reading, I might not have gotten hit, or at least have been able to block it from slamming into my temple.

  Anyway, I don’t know where he got them, he didn’t tell me, but one evening he started a book about a prince and a virgin slave girl. It was laughably funny, but I soaked up every word. Reading was my life. Literally. I chose to become a librarian so that I could be surrounded by the written word. The fact that he took the time to read me a “dirty book” (his words) made my heart flutter. Not even by best friend Lola had thought to read to me.

  That’s the day that the sexual feelings started, and I was totally unprepared for the surge of hormones that assaulted me. Sure, I would get aroused reading certain books, fuck books as Lola called them. That’s the reason I read them in the first place, but hearing it coming out of Dr. Sexymouth (Kyle’s new name in my head), opened a floodgate. I could tell that he was embarrassed to be reading it out loud, his voice got that strangled effect when he came to the good parts, his pronunciation of “cock” and “pussy” would have been funny if I hadn’t been longing for him to touch me, but he never put a finger on me, and he soldiered through to the end of the book.

  After a few days and another story, I mentally begged him to stop reading. I couldn’t take the torment of listening to him speak and feeling my heart rate rising, my pussy clenching involuntarily as I lay there, unable to make my fingers move to relieve the pressure. Thankfully, the next book was about Jackie O’s and RFK’s secret relationship, but unfortunately the feelings inside of me continued to build.

  On the upside of this entire hospital debacle was the glaring reality that I finally had that “special” connection with someone. I hadn’t found anyone that hit all the right notes with me before. Sure, it was a little odd that it took a coma to make me realize my feelings for Kyle, and it was true that I had no idea if he would reciprocate my feelings, but I’d heard of countless people who started out as friends and ended up married. Not that I was looking for marriage, I’m just saying.

  What’s really been bothering me though, is that I’ve been awake for almost twenty four hours and he hadn’t come by once. I started to feel bad, but then I realized that when he did come, I couldn’t blurt out my feelings, anyway. That would freak him out and probably force him to reject me, thereby ruining our friendship. I knew I was over-thinking it, and I’d most likely see him and have my libido deflate, but just in case he turned out to be my soul mate, I wasn’t going to chance it.

  At first, all of my sexual energy was used up in trying to put his face onto the hero characters he was reading to me since it was harder than I thought it would be to imagine having sex with a faceless man. I have imagined him as a swarthy pirate, and in a couple of my fantasies he has been a Nordic god styled man. Once I envisioned him as an older man going grey, but that didn’t really work, so I shelved that look.

  If I could have gone over the edge even once I might have been able to concentrate on something else, but no, I couldn’t even have a wet dream. Did I mention that I can’t even take care of myself because my arms are still weak from nonuse? Could things be more frustrating? I don’t think so.

  It’s gotten so bad that I’ve already been practicing for my group meetings; “My name is Addalee and I’m a nymphomaniac.” Actually, the proper term today would be “sex addict,” but I don’t know if it counts if all you do is imagine it. So far all of the sex has been in my head because I’ve been stuck in this hospital bed.

  Now that I was conscious again, my plan was simple: Get laid. Okay, maybe it’s not so simple. I’m not really sure what to do to make it happen. I’d never been the kind of person who jumped into sex, I’ve just never had the urge to sleep with every man I went out with. This could be because I went out on unexciting dates with dull men who obviously found me equally boring. See, this is what happens with self-reflection. Being trapped with only my own mind for company has been pretty enlightening. I realized that I’ve been kind of lame. I actually personified the picture of the prim, uninteresting librarian. It’s not that I’m unattractive. My friend Lola loves to give me the makeover treatment when we go out together, however, for day to day, I don’t really bother with more than a ponytail and eyeliner, but I digress.

  My immediate problem is convincing Kyle to have sex with me. Yesterday, for practice, I tried to hit on the male nurse who rolled me down to the MRI machine, but he shot me down. It was humiliating, but once I got a look at myself in the mirror I didn’t blame him—too much. I looked like a hag who hadn’t had a shower in two weeks. Whatever. He wasn’t that good looking either, and the worst part was that he was definitely not Kyle. As badly as my body ached for pleasure, I wouldn’t be completely satisfied until I was filled with him.

  This morning I got my long awaited shower and Lola brought me some decent PJs and makeup. I tried to explain my problem to her, but she couldn’t understand why sex was suddenly a pressing need when I hadn’t had any in the five months prior to this life-changing incident. She didn’t believe me when I told her that for two weeks I hadn’t been able to do anything but think of all of the sex I wanted to have. I considered sharing the fantasies I had been formulating starring Kyle, but Lola and I had been friends for fifteen years and I had never vocalized my fantasies to her before. Plus, how could I explain that I am achi
ng for Kyle? She just wouldn’t get it.

  “Addalee, are you listening to me?” Oh right, my mother was here.

  “Sorry. I’m feeling drowsy.” I wasn’t, but I didn’t want her to think I was ignoring her.

  “I said that I’m glad to see you’re finally taking time with your appearance. You are in a building full of doctors, and it never hurts to look your best.” I could only blink a few times in response. Did she know that I was hoping to snag the attention of my favorite dermatologist? But no, my mother was one of those women who never left the house without makeup and every hair in place. She was always looking at the bigger picture and keeping herself as attractive as possible. I had to admit the woman did look great for fifty-one.

  Maybe I should ask her for some advice on luring men. She’s been married three times and she has never lacked for male companionship. I think she’s despaired of me ever finding a good “catch,” and now was just crossing her fingers that I’d find any man at all.

  “So what do I need to do to get a guy?” I figured it was best to leave it in general terms; she wouldn’t understand or believe the connection I felt to my own Dr. Feelgood.

  The shock on her face was almost comical. “Really?”

  “Yeah. The accident has made me realize I’m not getting any younger. I’ve got to think of my future.” I kept to myself the part about the side effects of my nightly visitor. She probably wouldn’t see things the same way that I did. She was my mother.

  “Okay.” She paused and I could practically hear the gears turning in her head. Finally, her progeny was ready to listen to her sage advice. “Men really like it when you act interested in what they do for a living.” I nodded. That made sense. “Oh, and don’t eat too much in their presence. You want to appear somewhat dainty.”

  Hmm. That might be a tough one. I was 5’10”, and though I didn’t pack too many extra pounds, I really liked to eat. But, I was getting ahead of myself. I just wanted to entice Kyle, not snare a husband. Anyway, Kyle had seen me eat countless times, so I don’t think he’d buy a sudden change in my eating habits.

  “They love getting complimented. It doesn’t even have to be sincere, they never notice.” I wanted to laugh, but I could see she was being serious.

  “So does that stuff work on women, too?” It didn’t hurt to cover all of the bases. If I didn’t get some relief soon I might have to start batting for the other team.

  “What?” She looked at me suspiciously and not altogether happily.

  “I was just wondering if guys try to pull the same stuff on us.” I surprised myself with such fast thinking for being only a couple of days post-cataleptic.

  She shook her head. “Mostly, they just like talking about themselves.”

  “Got it. Talk about them, eat like a rabbit, and give them compliments.”

  She nodded, beaming proudly that after twenty seven years I was going to listen to some motherly guidance.

  I was still mulling over her directives when a man with short, dark hair walked in.

  “Hello Addalee. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Dr. Ryan and I’m your attending neurologist.” He stuck out his hand, picked mine up off of the top of the blanket, and shook it briskly. Meanwhile, I was feeling gob smacked. Holy shit. He looked like a combination of all of my fantasy men squeezed into one person. Perfect timing to try out my skills.

  “I’ve always found neurology fascinating. When did you decide to become a doctor?” My mother was motioning behind his back for me to stop talking. He didn’t say anything so I jumped in to fill the dead air.

  “Dr. Ryan, your hands are so sexy. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

  He looked down at his hands as if to check their desirability level.

  “Addalee! What has gotten into you?”

  I don’t know if it was from my head injury or not, but I suddenly found myself without my verbal filter. “Nothing in a really long time. I haven’t even been able to take care of myself. I’ve been trapped in this bed with useless arms.”

  Mom’s eyes were bugging and she shot up out of her chair. “I have to apologize for my daughter. She’s not herself.”

  “So this isn’t her normal personality?” Dr. Ryan turned his attention to my mother.

  “Not at all. I’ve never heard her speak like this in her life.”

  She was throwing me under the bus. I had just been trying to follow her guidelines. The only thing missing was a plate of salad to pick on. I glared at her before defending myself.

  “I’ve spent the last couple of weeks listening to people talking about me, poking at me, and giving me sponge baths. I’m ready to live. And I’m really horny.”

  It looked like my mother was about to collapse into fits. I decided to put her out of her misery. “Sorry. Maybe the medication is making me crazy.” I pointed to the IV bag hanging near my head.

  “That’s only saline.” Oh my god, he had a horrible bedside manner. Couldn’t he be a gentleman and let me play it off for everyone’s sake? I looked him in the eye and he had the grace to flush.

  “Mom, could you grab me some orange juice? I’m really thirsty.”

  She looked between us, probably unsure if she should leave me alone to make more of a fool of myself, but luckily she nodded and picked up her purse. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Thanks.” I waited until she was gone before speaking again. My voice sounded breathy, but I think it’s because I hadn’t done any talking in so long. I screwed up all of my courage to ask him about my problem. “What are the side effects of being in a coma? I mean besides the muscle atrophy. The other doctor already told me I might have to have to have some physical rehab, but she said I was showing remarkable lack of systemic degeneration.” Oh, did I mention I also had near photographic memory?

  He raised his eyebrows and I noticed that his eyes were hazel, just like Kyle’s. It looked good on both of them.

  “Are you saying that you were cognizant during your coma?” The doctor could barely contain his curiosity.

  “Yes. I could hear everything.” He stood there, unspeaking. I didn’t know how long my mother would be gone, so I had to take the opportunity to ask about my unusually elevated libido. Or maybe it wasn’t unusual at all. I should have asked the woman doctor, earlier. It would probably have been less embarrassing, but the neurologist was standing right here, and I couldn’t go on like this much longer or I was going to explode.

  “Look, this is awkward, but I have to know if other patients experience any sexual side effects after a coma.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to perform normally. I haven’t heard of any coma-specific sexuality problems. Once you regain your strength, I’m sure you’ll be able to resume activity.”

  His words made sense, but I had propositioned a nurse yesterday, so this situation was obviously untenable. “That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m sure that when I am in the position to have sex I’ll be able to, the problem I’m having is arousal. Constant arousal.”

  “Persistent genital arousal syndrome. I haven’t dealt with this from a neurological standpoint. This is usually gynecological in nature. Has it been occurring since you came to?”

  “No. It’s been occurring since my friend started reading to me. I haven’t had a moment of peace since that night.”

  “Are you saying you experienced arousal from your friend’s voice?”

  “I’m telling you I’ve been awake this entire time. I just couldn’t make my body move.”

  He picked up the chart from the front of my bed and started writing furiously.

  “They only had these little ones, so I got you two.” My mother came back in carrying the juice and a Diet Coke. My conversation with the doctor was essentially over since I certainly wasn’t going to talk about this in front of her. My face must have displayed some of my irritation, because she looked between the two of us and frowned. “Is everything okay?” Good question.

  I shook my head slightly at the doctor s
o that he knew not to say anything in front of my mother.

  “Yes, everything’s looking good. If you’ll excuse me, I have another patient that I need to check on.” He nodded to my mother then to me, but luckily didn’t mention my condition. He walked out without another word.

  “What was that about?” My mother popped a straw into the tiny bottle of juice and set it on the table in front of me.

  “I have no idea.” Was I posing some weird and new coma condition?

  “No, I mean that horribly uncomfortable scene with the doctor. You need to ease into seduction. You didn’t say ‘Nice to meet you,’ or even a simple ‘hello’.”

  “I really need to have sex.”

  “Oh lord. This is my fault. I should have explained things better when you were younger. What you’re feeling is infatuation, lust even. He’s a doctor, so I don’t blame you for that, but it takes time for these feelings to grow. Then, when you’ve gotten to know him…” Geez. Surely she wasn’t going to try to give me a watered down version of the birds and bees.

  “Mother, I know what lust is, I’m a grown woman.” For some reason, I didn’t want to share that Kyle had been coming to visit me at night. It was too personal, not to mention the fact that his voice had been setting me on fire. I just needed an outlet, any outlet, for these sexual cravings. “You’re right. I guess this is what happens from being unconscious for so long. I’ll try to dial it down when he comes back.”

  My mother looked relieved, though I wasn’t sure if it was because I said I wouldn’t have a repeat of the awkward meeting or because I wanted to drop the subject with her.

  “Do you need anything? I’ll run by your apartment and pick up whatever you’d like.”

  “Could you bring me my laptop? I miss the internet.”

  “Absolutely. I’ve got to go and close up the shop, but I’ll bring it by first thing in the morning. I love you, baby.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

  “Love you, too. See you in the morning.” She left and I was alone again. Obviously, now that I was awake and able to talk and move, however slightly, being alone wasn’t so bad. Then there was Kyle’s visit to look forward to, if he came. I could hardly wait for him to come back so that I could talk to him for real. Luckily, I didn’t have to wait for long; I had barely settled back to watch the news before the door opened. My heart started beating loudly in my ears.