Lost Love

Posted: July 30th, 2009 | Author: Elmer | Filed under: Hardcore Stories | Tags: Hardcore, Story |

“Hi, honey,” Terra bounced into the room, reading the scowl on her cousin’s face. “What are you thinking?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Nichole sighed. “I’m just in a funk.”

“It’s about “him”, isn’t it,” Terra said softly. “You can’t stop thinking about him, can you?”

“I try, but I don’t think I’m ready to let go,” Nichole said. She pointed towards the big bay window, its light streaming into the kitchen. “It’s beautiful out and all I can do is be depressed.”

Terra put her arms around her cousin, her friend. “I miss him, too, but Michael died over a year ago. It’s okay to move on.”

Tears formed in Nichole’s eyes. “I know that. I really do. Everything but my heart says the same thing. Today would have been three years since “the day”.”

Nichole buried her face in her hands. Sobs wracked her body. Terra pulled Nichole close and held her for a long time.

“I’m sorry,” Nichole said after her tears subsided. She wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I didn’t mean to ruin your day.”

“Oh, it’s not ruined,” Terra replied tenderly. “No day with you is ruined.”

“Thanks,” her cousin managed a smile.

Terra absently ran her fingers through Nichole’s hair. The two sat in silence for a while longer. Finally, Nichole sat up and brushed the last of her tears away. “I think I’d rather be alone today.”

“Are you sure?” Terra looked worried.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Terra paused for a moment, not sure if she should leave her cousin alone when she was so distraught, so vulnerable. “Okay, but you call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Nichole walked her cousin to the apartment door. Terra began to chatter incoherently. “–going to the movies later with Gabe and maybe Laurie. We might go out for sushi later. I’ve got my cell, so call if you feel like going out.”

“I will.” Nichole wasn’t really listening.

Terra stopped just over the threshold and looked deep into her cousin’s eyes. “You know Michael would have hated you being like this over him.”

“I know. But I can’t help it.”

“Okay. Call me. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Nichole closed the door and heard Terra get in the elevator.

She walked back through her apartment, “their” apartment, the home she and Michael were making for themselves before fate intervened. She poured herself a glass of wine and settled back into the couch. The afternoon sun warmed her, just as it had on their first “date”.

————————————–

Michael and Nichole grew up together. Their fathers were partners in a local shipping company that supplied fresh produce and groceries to local markets and restaurants throughout Manhattan. They were three years apart in age, but no one could tell by looking at them which one was older. Michael was the first child of three, Nichole was smack-dab in the middle of five.

They all grew up in the same neighbourhood on the lower west side. Their families did business together, they played together, they stuck through hard times together, and they prospered together. For all intents and purposes, the eight kids were brothers and sisters. So having grown up so close none of them ever hooked up; it just seemed incestuous. Which is why everyone was surprised at the company picnic three years ago.

Michael had moved into their parents’s shoes. The old men wanted to retire while they were still young enough to enjoy life, and they saw to it that their children were ready to take over the family business, surrounded by faithful subordinates and smart advisors. Michael was not the oldest of the eight, but he had the most business sense. All of the kids worked in either the company offices or the company warehouses when they weren’t in school and six of them spent their entire lives employed in the family company, but none of them devoted more time and energy to learning the business like Michael.

Nichole’s two older siblings, a brother and a sister, were either too dumb or too smart to take over the company. Nathan was the oldest, and while his heart was as big as some of the skyscrapers in New York, he didn’t have the chops for running a company, but he also was humble enough to know where he excelled, which was driving trucks. Emily was a month older than Michael, but instead turned her attention to mechanical engineering and the Air Force; she was literally the family rocket scientist. The other kids fell in after them, and all four held some position within the company, from distribution managers to HR to marketing to IT staff.

That left Michael who, after graduating first from Columbia and then getting his MBA from NYU, was 25 going on 40, poised and groomed to take over the day-to-day operations of the company. Growing up, Michael was a stick in the mud. He preferred the company of adults, didn’t have any hobbies, nor any vices. Michael also never noticed girls. He just didn’t have the time.

The entire company was closed for only four days every year: Easter, Christmas, Thanksgiving and the last Saturday in April for the company picnic. Nichole’s father Ernie liked to throw big parties, and that year was no exception. In addition to their families, every retiree and employee of the company and their families were invited. After almost 40 years in business, that added up to a lot of people.

Some beancounters say that company picnics are bad for business. They cost money and for a seven-day a week business, cost productivity. Ernie had other ideas. He believed that anything that brought family together was worthwhile. They had the best insurance a small business could afford. They had more family sick time than any other shipping company in New York. He personally sent birthday cards to all of his employee’s spouses and children. As a result, company absenteeism was near zero and each of the employees would have taken a bullet for their boss.

Each year, the picnic got bigger and bigger. That year the picnic took over a huge chunk of Central Park’s Sheep Meadow. There was the finest food, a band and fun and games for everyone. Ernie had only one rule at the company picnic, which stood for 40 years, and still stands today: no talking about business. He and Michael’s father John wanted the picnic to be about family and fun, not about money or shop talk.

So everyone had fun except Michael, who was bored out of his skull. That is, until Nichole showed up. They hadn’t seen each other for two years. While Michael had been studying economics, Nichole was busy working and going to school herself, only instead of concentrating just on business, she dual-majored in business and Chinese. She did her senior year at Wellesley from China, teaching English part time and helping local missionaries build churches and schools.

She was tanned from working outside and her face radiated warmth and friendliness. Everyone liked her. Nichole had always been tomboyish; she played nearly every sport imaginable in high school and her mission work in China kept her fit. She was also a late-bloomer, which was the first thing Michael noticed when she arrived that the picnic; the small bumps on her chest had become larger bumps, and her muscular soccer legs had become long, slim and shapely.

Michael couldn’t take his eyes off her. Maybe it was because she had been gone for two years. Maybe it was because she had become a woman without him even noticing. Maybe it was because on the one day a year he couldn’t talk or think about the company, she walked back into his life.

“Hi, stranger,” she said, giving him a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. He put his arms around her and found that he didn’t want to let go.

“Hi, yourself,” Michael replied. “What have you been up to?”

“I just got back—,” she started and the two picked up right where they left off, as old friends.

For her part, Nichole noticed Michael immediately. He had always been tall, but lanky. Aging had filled him out nicely, and despite the long hours he put in at work, he still managed to find the time to work out and stay in shape. The two really were like brother and sister, but now that they were all grown up, their touches lasted a little longer and were a little more intimate than they had been the last time they met.

Of course, neither Nichole nor Michael noticed how close they were, but everyone else did.

The two unconsciously spent almost all of the afternoon together. It was a warm April day in New York. Between the softball game and the food and the other company contests, there was a lot to do, but Michael and Nichole spent most of their time talking and catching up. Their brothers and sisters watched in mute disbelief. No one said a word to either and left them in their oblivious world of bliss.

By late afternoon, the picnic was winding down. Most folks had left and the clean up crew was taking care of the last little messes. The family patriarchs, John and Ernie sat together with their wives and some of the stragglers. They watched as Nichole and Michael left arm in arm.

“How long?” Ernie asked aloud.

“How long what?” his wife asked.

“Eh? Eight months,” John said.

His partner snorted softly. “Six.”

” ‘Til they’re married or engaged?” John’s wife asked.

“Married,” the two men said simultaneously.

“Loser pays for the reception,” Ernie extended his hand.

“Deal.”

Not quite six months later, on a cool Autumn day in October, John wrote the check, and the company closed down for five days that year.

————————————–

Nichole basked in the memories of that afternoon.

The sun was up and her apartment looked out over Central Park West. Her windows were open and a cool city breeze swept through the halls. She picked herself up off the couch and walked to the kitchen and poured herself another glass of wine. There was a picture next to the fridge, taken the night of the picnic. Nichole smiled wistfully and fell back into her reverie.

————————————–

After leaving the picnic, Nichole and Michael took a long stroll through the Park, a quiet haven among the bustle that was New York. They came out near the Guggenheim. Michael hailed a cab.

“Let’s get something to eat.”

“That would be great.” Nichole got in as Michael held the door.

“Where would you like to go?”

“Surprise me.”

They went to Umberto’s, a well-known Italian restaurant in Little Italy. It could have been Fazoli’s and it would not have made a difference to these two. They just wanted to share each other’s company. They continued to talk and laugh and reminisce. Then, sometime between the biscotti and the salad, or maybe it wasn’t until the veal arrived, Michael and Nichole fell in love.

At the end of the meal, the owner of Umberto’s, a long-time customer and family friend took their picture, had it framed and sent it to them later. They were sitting in a corner booth, shoulder-to-shoulder. Michael had a big, goofy grin. Nichole was smiling nervously. They were holding hands.

After dinner they walked around some more, which usually isn’t a bright idea in New York at night, but they didn’t care. Neither wanted the night to end.

A little after midnight, their feet tired from walking, Michael and Nichole stood in Times Square, which bustled even in the middle of the night. Illuminated by the neon lights and surrounded by the sounds of their hometown, the two stood silently as the world passed around them. Michael had his arm around her; Nichole rested her head on his shoulder.

“I guess we need to get you home.” Michael said finally.

Nichole smiled mischievously. “I don’t think I’m ready to go home yet.”

“We could go see what’s showing over at AMC. I’ve heard good things about—”

“Michael,” she snickered. “Shut up. Mom said you were living over on Central Park West. Let’s go to your place.”

He blushed and hurriedly flagged down a cab.

Michael’s apartment was on the fourth floor of a seven floor building. It encompassed almost half of the entire floor and had a wonderful view of Columbus Circle and the southwest corner of Central Park. It was spartan, but familiar, even for Nichole, who had never seen the place before. There were pictures of their families on the walls and a beat up couch that they used to play on in the brownstone where Michael grew up.

“This place is wonderful,” Nichole said. Michael went to check the messages on his answering machine but she stopped him. “Not now.”

He looked deep into her eyes and saw something that hadn’t been there when they were reunited earlier. Hunger. Desire.

Michael took Nichole in his arms and held her close. She returned his embrace. Their foreheads came to rest together and stayed like that for a long time. All Michael could hear was his heart pounding. He felt her warm breath against his lips.

She brushed her fingertips against his neck and they kissed. It was awkward at first, but that faded quickly as their passion overtook them. It was wet and sloppy. Delicious.

Michael’s hands ran over her back and waist. Her hands grasped his hair and shoulders. She let out a low purr as he kissed his way to her ear, nibbling softly on her lobe. Nichole gasped as Michael kissed his way down her neck, and she dug her fingernails into his back when he got to her collarbone.

Nichole pulled at his shirt and started to unbuckle his belt, but he stopped her.

“Not here.” Michael picked her up and nuzzled against her neck. “Bedroom or couch?”

“What’s closer?”

“Couch.”

“That sounds good.” Nichole pulled him closer.

He took a couple of steps. “Where do you want to wake up?”

“Bedroom.”

Michael carried her into his bedroom. She kissed his face and held him close. Starlight shone through the windows that dominated the apartment.

Michael lay her gently down on the massive oak bed. Nichole pulled him towards her. She pulled his shirt over his head and threw it across the room. Her hands explored his bare shoulders and chest.

Their lips locked together as each undressed the other. Michael’s shorts and boxers fell to the floor. Nichole’s blouse came unbuttoned and her breasts heaved with each laboured breath. Michael’s hands brushed against her erect nipples before coming back to pinch them gently.

Nichole’s hands went to Michael’s bare ass as he unzipped her shorts and pushed them down along with her panties. He lay atop her, bared physically and emotionally. He could feel her breasts pressed flat against his chest.

She pushed him back and sat up, shedding the rest of her clothes. Nichole took an admiring gaze at her childhood friend, standing there naked in the darkness. The moon illuminated his figure, basking him in a deep blue light. Her eyes settled on his face, almost angelic in its compassion and wisdom.

Michael stared back, lost in Nichole’s beauty. She propped herself up on her elbows and pushed herself back on the bed, resting against his pillows. Her hand was extended. Inviting.

With a quickness bourne of lust and desire, Michael lunged at her and she pulled him close, their naked forms melting together. Nichole kissed him deeply, her tongue wrapping around his. Her hands brushed against his back before settling on his buttocks, pulling him close.

Michael’s lips left a wet trail again across Nichole’s cheek and down her neck to her collarbone, but he didn’t stop there. Cupping a breast in each hand, Michael kissed down her chest before settling on one of her nipples. She cried out and pushed her bosom forward into Michael’s eager mouth.

He continued to explore her body with his hands and with his mouth. Biting. Nibbling. Caressing. He could feel the warmth of her sex against him. Inviting.

Michael pulled her close and lifted her off the bed. With one hand he brushed some of the pillows to the floor and pulled the comforter and sheets down. He lay her back on the bed, kneeling above her. His cock was fully erect and she took it in one hand, pulling him down with the other.

She guided him towards her, kissing his cheek, breathing in his ear. Nichole rubbed his cockhead against her clit and labia, sending a shiver up her spine.

Michael kissed her deeply again. She continued to rub him against her steaming sex. He was tumescent.

“I need you inside me,” Nichole whispered.

“Condom,” Michael managed to grunt.

“I’m on the pill,” she replied desperately. He pushed his cock forward into her.

She arched her back and moaned with pleasure. Nichole bit her lip as Michael’s cock filled her up. Slowly. Deliberately.

When he was all the way inside her, Michael looked down at his lover. Her body glistened with sweat and desire. Her eyes were closed. He pulled back and thrust in again. Her mouth fell open.

Michael built a rhythm, alternating a few hard thrusts with a few soft strokes. Nichole spread her legs so she could take all of Michael’s erection inside her. Her hands gripped his muscular shoulders. He held himself up with one arm and cupped one of her breasts with the other hand.

“You . . . feel . . . so . . . good,” Nichole managed between strokes. Michael smiled and pulled back so only the tip of his head was inside her. Then, without warning, he thrust deep and hard. Nichole bit his shoulder and dug her nails into his back, not for the last time.

She bucked against him, matching his stride, grinding her clit against the top of his cock. Michael grunted with a primal pleasure on every stroke. Faster and faster. Nichole absorbed each thrust and felt her own orgasm building.

Michael felt his cock tightly in the grip of Nichole’s velvety sex. He could feel it contracting around his swollen head. He knew she was close. So was he. Michael pumped her pussy hard. Faster and faster.

Nichole arched her back one last time as the waves of her orgasm overtook her. Michael saw her eyes roll back into her head and then he started to cum with her.

She bucked against him and pulled him deeper inside.

Michael felt her warm juices around his throbbing cock, flooding her tight sex. Then his head exploded inside her. The room started to spin.

They each let out one final gasp, consumed by their passion. He could still feel her pussy squeezing his cock, even as her orgasm subsided. There was a ringing in his ears and he could hear his cock pumping the last of his thick cum into her.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of her. The room continued to spin and then went dark.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Michael didn’t know how long he was out. It may have been a few seconds. I may have been a minute or two. He was still inside her. She was absently running her fingertips along his back, top to bottom, then in small circles around his shoulder blades. Her gentle touch gave him goosebumps.

Michael blinked himself back to consciousness. He started to pull himself up, but she held him close.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Am I squishing you?” he asked.

“No. You feel wonderful right where you are.” Nichole’s eyes were closed. A slight smile only hinted at the depth of the pleasure she felt from her head to her toes.

Michael stared at her beautiful face, glowing in the soft moonlight. He kissed her gently. Their bodies were covered in perspiration. The room reeked of sex.

She kissed him back before opening her eyes and staring back at him. Neither spoke for a long time.

“What have we done?” he finally asked.

She closed her eyes. A sad look flashed across her face. Then she smiled. “After tonight, we can never be friends again.”

“I know. What do—?”

Nichole put her finger over Michael’s lips. “Shhhhhhh . . . let’s talk about that later.”

“Over breakfast?”

“I’m planning on sleeping through breakfast,” she replied. “How about over lunch?”

“Deal.”

“Now, come here.” She pulled him close again. He felt his cock stir with a renewed passion. She felt it, too. “You must really like me; I know you haven’t taken any ED pills today and you’re already to go again.”

gain.”

“E-what?”

Nichole giggled. “ED. Erectile dysfunction. Viagra.”

“Before I’m done, you’ll wish I had erectile dysfunction!” he teased.

They fell together again.

The next morning, Michael did something he hadn’t done in years: he overslept.

And Nichole woke up in the same place that she would each morning for the next three years: in the arms of the Love of Her Life.

They missed their lunch conversation and he cooked her dinner in bed.

————————————–

“Oh, god . . . oh, god . . . Oh . . . GAAWWWWWDD!!!!,” Nichole buried her face in the pillow as Michael pounded into her.

All he could manage was a grunt.

“Harder . . . harder . . . do . . . it . . . HARD . . . ER!,” she arched her back and felt Michael put his hand on her shoulders. He pressed all of his weight down on her, pushing her into the bed with each thrust. Her breasts were pressed flat against the sheets, and with Michael’s weight bearing down on her ass, she felt as if she was being split in two. It was glorious.

With one hand, Nichole braced herself against the headboard and rubbed herself furiously with the other. She could feel Michael’s balls slapping against her. Her ass stung with every thrust.

Michael let out a loud moan and she knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. Nichole arched her back as their orgasms overtook them. Michael’s cock erupted. She felt the familiar warm flood of his cum as it mixed with her own. She bucked against him one final time, trying to milk the last of his cum out of the cock that was buried inside her.

Michael rolled to the side and she turned with him, keeping his semi-erect sex within her soft folds. She glanced over her shoulder and saw his eyes flutter. Nichole smiled and took his hand within hers, then placed it on her breast.

Contentedly, she lay there, spooning with her unconscious lover, holding his arms tight around her.

After a few seconds, Michael stirred. He lifted his head off the pillow. “How long this time?”

“Not long, just a few seconds,” she turned her head and kissed him tenderly. She pressed her ass against him and wiggled. “Think you can do it again? Want to go for four in a row?”

Michael groaned. “I’m only one man.”

“Sissy.”

Michael smacked her playfully on the backside.

“Don’t start that unless you mean it,” Nichole slid Michael’s flaccid cock out of her and then turned to face him. He rolled onto his back. She cuddled up against her lover and kissed him again. “Now where were we?”

“I think you were about to rub my neck,” Michael said.

“I thought I’d rub something else,” she purred. She ran her nails down his stomach.

“Give me a minute, will you?”

“What’s wrong, Michael, old age catching up with you?” she teased and kissed him again.

It was a week after the company picnic. Immediately, Nichole and Michael became inseparable. Although she didn’t “move in”, she spent every night with her new lover, much to the chagrin of her “old-fashioned” grandmother, and much to the delight of everyone else around them.

“They look so cute together”, “It’s about time” and “Do you see how happy she makes him” were all whispered among their family, friends and co-workers.

Both Nichole and Michael were surprised at how quickly they connected. Neither wanted to settle in; he was too concentrated on his work and she was fresh out of school. It just happened.

————————————–

“That’s how love works, isn’t it?” Nichole thought to herself. “It just strikes out of nowhere.”

Nichole walked back to her bedroom, a glass of wine in one hand. She picked up a box of pictures sitting on the counter. Terra had left them. At first Nichole didn’t want to look at them, but today the good memories outweighed the bad, so after settling on the bed, she began to flip through them. They were from her birthday party.

————————————–

Three weeks after the picnic Nichole turned 23. Not a major milestone, but since she spent her last birthday in China, her family threw a big party. They were originally going to have it at her parents’s house, but things quickly got out of hand and they had to change it to another venue because so many people were coming.

People made excuses that they hadn’t seen Nichole for so long, or because they were coming to town anyway to see a show, but mostly, the extended family just wanted to see Nichole and Michael together. Ernie and his wife Carole ended up renting out a banquet room at Central Park’s Tavern on the Green, not an inexpensive proposition, but it was worth it. After all, they were in on a secret only one other person knew about.

Nichole knew her parents were throwing her a birthday party, but was happily oblivious to the massive amount of preparation that was going in to in. Instead, she was trying to find a job. Ernie and John made it clear to all eight of their children that they would always have a place in the family business, but given her involvement with Michael, the hand-picked successor, Nichole decided that she needed to look for work outside the company.

She earned a business degree in college and also spoke fluent Mandarin Chinese, passable variations of other Chinese dialects, and conversational Japanese. She quickly found gainful (if lucrative) employment as a translator for visiting Chinese and Japanese businessmen.

Nichole’s birthday party was planned for a Saturday night, with a buffet dinner and cocktails. Her sisters Emily and Melissa were charged with keeping her busy for the rest of Saturday. So after waking up with Michael, Nichole went out with them. Shopping and catching up and doing sister things.

Emily was assigned to a joint project with NASA; by nature her work was secretive, but she managed a weekend away. Melissa was three years younger than Nichole and just finished her freshman year at Columbia. Both adored Michael.

When the three arrived, the party was in full swing. All of their family was there, as was all of Michael’s.

Nichole mingled with the well-wishers, but spent the early part of the party looking for Michael, who was conspicuously absent. He arrived about half an hour later, with a big box in his arms.

Michael set the box on the gifts table and came over to give her a big hug.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

“Your dad needed me to pick something up and it wasn’t ready, so I had to wait on it,” Michael replied, handing her a glass of wine.

When Michael went to get some food, Nichole thought she was seeing a complete stranger. Michael was engaging, talking, laughing. Animated. Vibrant. The person who had been a grown-up in a kid’s body for all his life seemed so . . . so . . . “normal”. She fell deeper in love with him.

Just past Michael, she saw her parents holding hands and looking towards her. And Michael. Ernie had a sly smile. Carole looked distant, the corners of her mouth upturned. Her eyes had a wistful look to them. Nichole thought she saw her father wink at her.

When Michael returned, he handed her a plate of food and she started to nibble. Emily and Melissa tagged along with him. Emily carried the box Michael brought to the party.

It was wrapped in white paper with a large gold bow on it.

“Dad says you can open the other gifts later, but this one you have to open now.” Melissa took her plate and Emily handed her the box.

The room suddenly got quiet. Discomfortingly quiet. Everyone seemed to be staring at her. Nichole became very nervous. Michael only smiled. Mischievously.

Nichole untied the bow and began unwrapping the present. It was an unmarked rectangular box, two feet high, one foot wide and one foot deep. Nichole looked over at her parents and saw her mother wipe a tear from her eye.

Nichole’s hands began to shake.

The lid came off.

Under layers of tissue paper was her gift.

“What is this?” she said, disbelief denying what her eyes showed her. She turned to Michael. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s a stuffed animal,” he replied, deadpan. Teasing. “An emperor penguin, to be exact. I found—”

“Not that,” Nichole lifted the plush gift out of the box. Around the penguin’s neck was a black ribbon. Tied to a ring. The gold glistened, and the diamonds sparkled under the lights. “This.”

“It’s your birthday present,” Michael took the stuffed animal from his friend. His lover. His soulmate. He untied the ribbon and the jewel fell into his palm. Michael knelt before her. He took her trembling hands in his own. Their fingers entwined around the gold and diamond bauble. Michael slipped it on her finger. Of course it fit perfectly.

“My love,” he said quietly. “My love, I can’t imagine a day in my life where I didn’t wake up beside you.”

Tears welled up in Nichole’s eyes. She reached out and brushed Michael’s cheek with her fingertips. His eyes began to water.

“I can’t remember what it was like before you came back into my life. You make me happy. You make me realise how lonely I used to be. I love you.” She started to cry. “Nichole, will you marry me?”

Nichole pulled Michael close. Joyous sobs overpowered her. She buried her face in his chest and felt his strong arms around her. “Yes . . . Of course, I will, yes!”

Michael pulled back and lifted Nichole to her feet. She felt as if she were floating. Nichole and Michael held each other, oblivious to the camera flashes, the cheers and the pats on the shoulder.

“I love you,” she said in his ear.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back. “Now stop crying. I can’t stand watching you cry. You’re making me horny.”

“What’s with the penguin?” Nichole asked, not wanting to let go. She dabbed at her eyes. “Do they mate a lot?”

“I don’t know about that, but they mate for life,” Michael said, and she began to cry again. “See? There “are” some things on the Discovery Channel worth learning.”

She laughed out loud, a euphoric, rapturous laugh. She kissed him on the cheek, at the top of his jawbone. She raked her teeth across his earlobe. His grip on her tensed for just a second. She was sure that if no one else were around, he’d have tripped her right there.

Melissa and Emily practically had to pry the two apart. Both wanted to be the first to welcome Michael to the family. Michael and Nichole were immediately beset by everyone at the party, with “congratulations!” for both and “happy birthday!” for Nichole.

————————————–

Nichole spent the rest of that night in a daze. The pictures Terra left triggered memories, all of them happy, even though Nichole remembered only bits and pieces herself. Many of them made her smile, but each picture of Michael only reminded her of how empty she felt, even a year later.

The penguin was the first of many Nichole and Michael exchanged over the next two years and it remained her favourite. She fell asleep with it in her arms nearly every night. Nichole held it close, trying to recapture the feeling of Michael’s embrace. But stuffed animals don’t hug back.

Nichole finished the glass of wine and looked out the windows, their arches framing the spectacular view. It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to set. One of the last pictures in the box was of the gift table, overflowing with birthday wishes that had unknowingly become wedding wishes. Nichole smiled. Michael had another gift for her after the party.

————————————–

The party really started after Michael’s proposal, and luckily for the couple, took on a life of its own. Michael and Nichole snuck out with the complicity of Ernie and Carole. Of course they knew what Michael was planning. A week before he came to them and asked Ernie for his daughter’s hand and for their blessing. Without hesitation, Ernie and Carole gave it.

Right after the congo line started, Ernie waved Michael and Nichole out the back door where Carole and Michael’s parents, John and Elizabeth, were waiting.

“Get out of here, you two,” Ernie said, fighting for hug time with his three other dear friends. “We love you.”

John pointed them towards the street. A horse-drawn carriage waited.

The driver took them through Central Park. Nichole rested with her head on Michael’s shoulder. They rode in silence, holding each other tight. In her hands, Nichole clutched her penguin. The driver let them out at Columbus Circle, just across the street from the apartment.

They took the elevator up to the fourth floor. Michael fumbled with the keys.

“I have something else for you.”

“What else could you possibly give me?”

He handed her a keychain in the shape of a heart. On one side was the date, the other read, “I love you. –M.”

Michael picked her up to carry her across the threshold to his—to “their”—apartment. “Welcome home.”

Nichole kissed him deeply as he stood in the hallway. He tasted her tears.

All the way to the bedroom, she tried to undress Michael, but he wouldn’t put her down. Finally, he set her on the bed where she pounced on him. Nichole covered his face with kisses. Soft pecks. Wet. Deep. Sloppy. Her tongue snaked into his mouth.

She pushed him down on the bed and straddled him. She pulled at her own clothes, tearing at the buttons and then set to undressing Michael. His shirt came of, but he wouldn’t let her go any further. There was a wickedly pernicious glint in his eye.

He sat up and pulled her close. One hand cupped a wondrous, naked breast. His mouth went to the other. Michael made circles around her nipple with his tongue, causing it to stand up. Then he blew softly on it and it hardened immediately. Nichole shivered. He bit softly and she moaned with pleasure.

Michael kissed his way back her chest, to her collarbone, then her neck and under her chin. He breathed in her ear. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course, I do,” she moaned.

“Good.”

Michael put his feet on the floor and stood, still holding his lover in his arms. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed his shoulders. He turned and sat her on the bed, which was just the right height for him if he wanted to have her right then. But he didn’t.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered, squeezing Nichole’s erect nipple.

His hands left her for a second when she felt something around her head, covering her eyes. It was soft. Silky. Michael tied the blindfold and kissed her again. He had something else in his hands. Nichole felt more silk being tied to each wrist.

Michael guided her to the center of the bed and pushed her flat on her back. He placed a pillow under her head. His fingers ran the length of her body, their feather touches causing the hairs on her skin to stand up. Gently, he pulled her skirt and panties down.

She lay naked, fully exposed and blind. Vulnerable. But with Michael, none of that mattered. Her trust in him was complete.

Even if she knew he was up to no good.

She heard him shed the rest of his clothes and felt him cuddle up next to her. His fingers continued to trace lines on her body. Unable to see, the rest of her senses seemed heightened. His touch tickled and aroused her.

“I am going to make love to you,” Michael said, kissing her shoulder. “If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just say ’stop’. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she moaned softly.

“Say it.”

“I understand,” she purred.

“Good.”

Michael straddled her chest, his hardening cock resting between her breasts. He took her hands and made Nichole cup her tits, then she squeezed them together around his engorged sex. His hips moved forward ever so slightly and she felt the head of his cock slip out from between her breasts and under her chin. He continued with several short strokes, playing with her nipples.

She felt a hand lift her head forward and found the head of Michael’s cock at her lips. They parted for him eagerly. She tried to put her hands on his ass, meaning to draw him deeper into her mouth, but he pulled on the ties around her wrists and her arms fell away from him.

Keeping up the same short strokes in her mouth instead of between her breasts, Michael tied the bonds on each wrist to the posts on his headboard. Nichole lay there, helpless. Completely at his mercy.

Nichole gave a disappointed sign as Michael withdrew his cock from her mouth. Michael lay on top of her, his hard cock wet with her saliva, so near her hungry pussy. She started to grind against him, hoping he would relieve her desire. But she knew he wouldn’t. Not yet.

Michael rolled to the side, his body still pressed against her. Propping himself up with one hand, he took the other and turned her blindfolded head towards him. His tongue forced his way into her mouth, penetrating her. Violently. Lovingly.

His hand roamed down her body, stopping to roll her nipple between his index finger and thumb, then continuing down her naked form. His hand forced her legs apart. He ran his fingers in small circles along the insides of her thighs. Her body buzzed with anticipation. Her clit tingled at the nearness of his touch.

Nichole pulled against the ties holding her down. She wanted so much to take him in her arms and feel him inside her. She wanted . . . no, she “needed “his touch to release her.

Finally, Nichole felt a finger touch her swollen clitoris. He pressed against it softly, then harder. His fingertip touch became stronger, more intense. Faster. She bucked against his hand. She felt his cock twitch against her leg. Oh, how she wanted him!

Michael moved his finger faster and harder against her sex, every now and then pausing to dip a finger inside her wetness. His tongue continued to assault her mouth, rough and tender at the same time.

Her lover’s strong hand pressed against the nub of her sex, wet from her juices, swollen with excitement. She pressed her chest against him as best she could, frustratingly bound to the bed, desperate to feel as much of his touch as possible.

Michael kissed behind her ear, at the top of her neck. She shivered with delight. A gasp escaped her lips as one finger, then two, penetrated her. His breath teased her neck. Michael left a line of slobbery kisses down her neck to her collarbone, then he traced the same line and blew softly. The coldness made her shudder and she pulled again against her bonds.

“What do you want me to do to you?” he whispered in her ear.

“Fuck me.”

“Not yet,” he teased, rubbing her clit again. “What else?”

“I want you to eat me.”

“Where?”

“My pussy,” Nichole moaned.

“How do you ask?”

“Pleeeeeaaasse,” she wailed, pulling again at the ties. She needed to put her arms around him. She needed to force his head between her legs. She needed him to make love to her.

“Please, what?”

“Please eat my pussy, Michael. Please, God, please,” her voice became a whisper. “Please eat me. Please . . .”

Nichole imagined the broad smile her begging brought to her love. Michael pulled away from her, although his hand never left her sex.

“What’s he doing?” she thought. “What’s he opening? It sounds like a cooler—”

She cried out in surprise when the ice cube touched her nipple. She felt the areole contract and goosebumps covered her entire body. A shiver ran the length of her spine.

Nichole squealed with delight as he moved the ice cube all over her breast, leaving a cold trail of water on her body. She felt his breath on her breast as he took the ice cube in his mouth and paid equal attention to her other nipple and breast.

All the while, he continued to massage her clit and sex with his hand. Rubbing, pressing, penetrating.

When the first ice cube was nearly melted, Michael dropped it back in the cooler, got another one and took it between his teeth. She thought she heard him get something else out of the cooler, but the touch of the ice made her forget about everything except Michael’s touch. With the edge, he made a line down her belly, until he was laying between her legs. He pushed them further apart

er apart

She nearly fainted when the ice cube touched her clit. She imagined it turning to steam instantly. The heat of her body mixed with the cold of the ice made her shake uncontrollably. Nichole felt her clit harden just like her nipples at the touch of the ice. In ecstasy, she rolled her head back and forth on the pillow. Nichole moaned. Under the blindfold, she saw stars as the fireworks started.

Then, as quickly as the icy touch started, it was gone, replaced by the warmth of Michael’s mouth. On her clit. She reflexively tried to sit up, but her bonds held and she collapsed back on to the bed. Already super-sensitive from Michael’s earlier treatment, Nichole’s clit exploded with pleasure as his hot mouth enveloped her steaming sex, sopping up ice water and her wetness alike.

Nichole cried out again as she felt something else cold enter her where Michael’s warm fingers had been. She didn’t know what it was but made her head throb and she nearly fainted again. The object was almost as long as Michael’s cock, just as wide and ice cold. It had a bulbous head that aroused her insides while her lover assaulted the outside of her sex with his mouth.

She could feel him turn the thing in her pussy into a piston as he sucked and nibbled on her clit. Nichole moaned and grunted in time with Michael’s tongue as it lashed against her, only to be replaced by his teeth raking against her sex.

“That feels so good,” Nichole moaned. “Oh, God! That feels so good . . . I’m about to cum, please don’t stop . . . please don’t stop . . . please . . .”

As he worked her pussy over, Michael reached up and squeezed one of his lover’s breasts. It sent her over the edge. With an ear shattering scream, Nichole lost herself to the orgasm. It consumed her.

She bucked her hips against his mouth. She felt her pussy flood with cum, which Michael lapped up and devoured. She pulled against her ties, wanting to pull Michael’s mouth harder against her, but to no avail.

Nichole screamed. And moaned. She was in heaven.

Her orgasm subsided, but didn’t stop. Michael wouldn’t let it. Still working the rod in her pussy, Michael kissed his way up to Nichole’s face and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips.

Her tongue entwined his. Their teeth knocked together and their lips bit and nibbled at each other.

She felt him climb on top of her. How she wanted to put her arms around him. The rod was removed from her pussy. Michael pushed himself up until he was on his knees.

Nichole felt something rub against her clit. His cock. Warm. Hard. She moaned with desire.

She tried to wrap her legs around his waist, as if to pull him inside her. But he pushed her legs apart.

Back and forth. Back and forth. Michael’s cockhead took over for his hand.

“Michael,” Nichole cried out. “I need you inside me.”

“You do?” She felt him bend over and his mouth locked on to one of her breasts. He continued to rub his sex against hers.

“Yes.”

“How do you ask?” He slapped his cock against her clit.

“Please, Michael!” she said, desperately.

“Please, what?” He slapped her again with his cockhead.

“Please fuck me,” Nichole sobbed. Her desire overpowered her. Her need was insatiable. Her voice was but a plaintive whisper. “Please fuck me, Michael. Please . . .”

“Of course, my love.” Michael kissed her tenderly, wiping away the tears that fell out from under her blindfold.

Her mouth fell open as she felt his head push into her. She arched her back as his cock penetrated her ravenous sex. Slowly. It seemed to never end.

She gasped as she felt his cock all the way in her. He kissed her again, his tongue penetrating her mouth as his cock penetrated her pussy.

Again, she tried to put her arms around him, but she could not. She wanted to envelope him in her embrace. To pull him close. To give him the pleasure he gave her.

Michael began to pump his cock in and out of her slowly at first, then faster. And harder.

Nichole felt another orgasm begin to build. Or was it a continuation of her first one? She didn’t care.

The tingling sensation increased. She could hear Michael breathing hard and moaning. She felt his cock moving inside her.

In and out. In and out.

Michael took her legs and spread them wide, then put her calves on his shoulders and began to drive his cock into her. With every stroke, there was a sharp “slap!” as the hilt of his hard sex connected with her and a shiver ran up her spine.

Nichole pulled futilely against her bonds. Tears of desire and lust flowed down her cheeks as another orgasm cascaded over her.

She cried out in pleasure as her whole body seemed to catch fire. It started in her toes. Michael pumped faster and harder. His hands went to her breasts. They squeezed and pinched. He kneaded them together. All the while using his cock like a hammer on her pussy.

Nichole thrashed underneath him, overcome with passion. She tried to buck her hips against him. The ties held her down and Michael steadied her, but she felt freed, released as she came all over Michael’s cock, buried deep in her sex.

Under the blindfold, she saw stars as she peaked. It was like having an out of body experience. She heard herself scream. She felt her heart pounding its way out of her chest. She felt her pussy throbbing, contracting. Wild spasms wracked her body. She cried out again.

With a final sob, Nichole mercifully blacked out.

She didn’t hear his final moan, nor did she feel his cum shooting inside her.

When she came to, she could only hear her heart still pounding in her chest. She felt Michael next to her. She felt his hand running along her body. His touch was comforting.

Nichole moved her arms. They were stiff, but Michael had undone the knots. Finally released, she put her arms around him and held him close. Her body still tingled from head to toe.

She opened her eyes and blinked back the light. It was dark, the room only lit by the stars, but after being under the blindfold for so long, it still took her some time to adjust.

“Hello, lover,” Michael returned her embrace.

“How long?”

“Not long,” he smiled. “Just a couple of minutes.”

“What did you do to me? I can’t move.”

“Good.” He kissed her tenderly. She closed her eyes. The musky aroma of sex permeated the room.

“Where did you learn how to do that?”

“Your brother bought me “The Complete Idiots Guide to Amazing Sex” last year as a birthday present. I think he thought I was spending too much time at work.”

“I don’t know if I should thank him or kill him.”

She jumped when she felt his hand touch her still swollen, still sensitive clit. “Hey! Stop that!”

“What’s wrong?” Michael said teasing. “Can’t keep up with an old man?”

He attacked her again. And again.

And again.

————————————–

Nichole put Terra’s pictures away. It was nearly dark. The apartment was quiet. She hated this time of night. It was right about the time when she and Michael would come home and have dinner together. She half expected him to walk through the door and tell her the last year had been a horrible dream.

She knew she was hungry but didn’t want to eat. She knew she was lonely but didn’t want to by around anyone else.

“Stop this! ” Nichole scolded herself. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself”.

Nichole put the stuffed penguin back on the bed and walked to the kitchen. She picked up the phone and dialed.

“Hello, Terra? Where are you guys? Great, I’m starving. I’ll meet you there in 10 minutes.”

————————————–

Five months after getting engaged, Michael and Nichole were married. For anyone else a three week courtship may seem like a very short time, but in reality, the two spent 23 years getting to know each other; just no one knew they were supposed to end up together.

They tried to keep the wedding small, and for the most part, they succeeded. The wedding itself was low key and intimate. It’s the guest list that couldn’t be pared down. Ernie and John invited not only family, extended family and friends, but all of the company employees, who were basically extended family and friends.

Nichole did most of the planning, not because she was obsessed with her wedding, but because she knew Michael didn’t care about most of the details and because she knew he trusted her not to go too far over the top. There was a small list of things for him to do, and he did all of them without complaint and in his usual efficient manner. She also had a very capable (and willing) compatriot in Michael’s secretary who made most of the calls and did the bulk of the hard work, often on her own time.

When the day of the wedding came around, all the preparations had been made, everything was paid for and all Nichole and Michael had to do was show up.

Like every other day they were together, Nichole woke up with Michael’s arms holding her tight. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He was still asleep. He looked so peaceful.

The morning sun shone through the windows. Nichole lifted her head and tried to quietly leave the bed, but Michael was a light sleeper. He caught her hand.

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve got plans for today,” Nichole smiled playfully. She kissed him.

“You do?” Michael said, in feigned shock. He pulled her close. His hand strayed to her naked body. “I have a better idea. Why don’t we just spend all day in bed?”

“Because I can’t spend all day screwing my boyfriend!” she laughed and slipped out of his grasp. She bounced teasingly into the bathroom. Michael heard the shower begin to run. He bounced in after her.

A short time later, cleaned, fed and dressed, Michael and Nichole sat on the couch, looking out their windows. They cherished the quiet together. Neither said a word. Both knew it would be a long day. Michael held her close. Nichole absently ran her fingertips over his arm.

There was a knock at the door.

“I love you, Nichole.”

She stood up and kissed Michael on the cheek. “I love you, too.”

Nichole went to the door. It was her sisters Emily and Melissa, Michael’s sister Courtney and the maid of honour, Nichole’s best friend Maureen.

They each gave Nichole and Michael a hug and a kiss.

“It’s time to go, sis,” Emily said. She patted Michael on the head and tussled his hair. “The next time you’ll see her, you’ll be getting married.”

“I can’t wait.”

Melissa gave Michael a second hug. “It must be nice being a guy. All you have to do is put on a suit and a tie 10 minutes before the whole thing starts, and then you’re done. No hair, no makeup.”

Michael just grinned.

The five girls left, Nichole pausing for one more pre-nuptial kiss.

Then the apartment was quiet. Michael had been alone there before, but it seemed strange this time. This would be the last time he would be single and alone in this place, or in his life. Michael looked around the apartment and thought back to the transformation it had undergone over the last six months. Thought back to the transformation “he” had undergone over the last six months.

Nichole had brought him to life, out of the doldrums of his daily existence, out of the routine that had become his life. He laughed more, he was a better boss; he felt passion rather than obligation.

All around him were reminders of his love. Pictures, art, elegance. Everything a single guy’s apartment lacks. Her touch was everywhere, and he was a better man because of it.

Michael sat on the couch, thinking how lucky he was when the phone rang. The caller ID showed Nichole’s cell phone number.

“Hey, honey.” She sounded like she was running. “Are you still on the couch?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Are you dressed?”

“Not any more than when you left.” Michael was puzzled.

“I’m almost to the elevator. I told the girls I left something in the apartment and just needed to run up and get it. Take your shorts off.”

He listened to her catching her breath. He heard the elevator “ding! ” Her next words made the hair on his neck stand up.

“I want you hard when I get up there.” Then she hung up.

When the key hit the lock, Michael was stroking his cock in anticipation. The two enjoyed a lot of spontaneous sex, but there was something different in her voice. Hunger.

Nichole flung the door open. Michael turned over his shoulder to see his bride peeling off her sweatshirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

She vaulted over the back of the sofa. Michael started to get up, but she pushed him back down. Instantly, she was on her knees in front of him.

Nichole took his hard cock in her hands and her mouth descended on it. Her lips locked around his head, then she took its entire length down her throat.

Michael’s body went rigid. He gripped her shoulders. Nichole began bobbing her head up and down on his cock. Normally she would go slow, built him up, make him beg her to get him off. But not this time. She was on a mission.

After almost six months together, she new what made Michael tick. And what made him pop. She raked her teeth against the swollen head of his cock. She tickled the slit with her tongue. She nibbled on the soft spot right under his head that drove him crazy.

With the end of his cock in her mouth, Nichole used her hands on the rest. Up and down on his shaft. She cupped his balls and squeezed gently. Up and down some more.

Taking a quick glance up, Nichole saw Michael with his head thrown back, his eyes closed. His hands gripped a pillow to either side of him. His knuckles were white.

The combination of her lips, teeth and tongue were driving Michael crazy. She knew this. Any other time, she would have let him down from this point, just short of blasting his load in her mouth, only to bring him back again and again. Teasing.

She loved the power of giving a blow job. Most of the time, she liked being submissive to Michael. She trusted him. She loved him. Nichole liked to feel his weight on top of her. She liked the pleasure he brought her.

But sometimes, she enjoyed being in control. Being the fellatrix gave her that control.

With a sigh, Nichole bit softly on the bottom of his cockhead and sent Michael over the edge.

With a quick jerk, she took Michael’s cock out of her mouth and pointed it straight at her chest. His engorged penis flared and shot steaming cum on to Nichole’s breasts. Thick ropes of his seed sprayed out on her. His head continued to pulse. Using both hands, Nichole milked his cock, coaxing out every last drop of cum on to her exposed body.

When she was satisfied that there was none left for her, Nichole released his semi-flaccid cock and began to rub her lover’s cum into her chest, around her collarbones and even up to her neck. Michael’s cum was thick and warm. Her nipples were hard with excitement, and she indulgently pinched them. If her bridesmaids weren’t waiting in a car downstairs, she might have mounted Michael and gotten herself off right there.

When all of Michael’s cum was rubbed like lotion into her soft skin, Nichole stood up. Michael hadn’t recovered. He was breathing heavy, his eyes were half-open, partly exhausted, seething with desire. His cock was slick with her saliva, twitching. She hated to waste a hard-on but she had to go.

She kissed him quickly on the cheek.

“I want to have you with me all day,” she whispered in his ear.

As quickly as she came in, she was gone. Back out the door, pausing only to put her sweatshirt back on and wash her hands.

Then Michael was left alone in the apartment. Again.

————————————–

Nichole met Terra at Yummy Sushi, one of their favourite sushi bars on the near Washington Square. Terra’s boyfriend Gabriel was there, as were some of their mutual friends Julie, Mark and Laurie.

“What’s with Julie and the tiara?” Nichole asked Terra.

“Today’s her birthday and she thinks it’s all about her,” her cousin grinned. “Hey, later tonight we’re going to a new club over near the Village; you’re welcome to come with us if you want.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nichole replied. “What’s it called?”

“”Leviathan”. It just opened last week. It’s apparently very hot. Mark made special arrangements with “Naked Boys Singing” to perform there especially for her.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Nichole and Michael had been regulars at this place and the sushi chef recognized her immediately. With a hearty greeting, he began sending food their way, no menu necessary. She always enjoyed the casual atmosphere here and the presence of her cousin and friends made Michael’s absence a little less painful.

————————————–

Nichole spent the rest of her morning getting her hair and makeup done. It seemed to fly by. By mid-afternoon, it was time to get dressed and head over to the church for pictures. Michael had his taken first with the wedding party, then it was her turn. They didn’t have any pictures taken together until after the ceremony.

The wedding was in a small Episcopal church on the lower west side. The church was packed with their friends and family and largely devoid of any major wedding day complications.

As she walked down the aisle, arm in arm with her father, Nichole fixed her gaze on her love. He was so handsome in his simple black tuxedo. Even surrounded by people, she felt that the two of them were alone.

The ceremony was simple. Nichole and Michael wrote their own vows and exchanged rings. The pastor delivered a short homily. Tears flowed down her fathers cheeks as he gave away his daughter to a young man he loved as much his own children.

After the quick wedding, it was on to the dinner reception. It was also a wing-ding of a party, but unlike their engagement celebration, there was no escaping. John, who was paying for the party after all, rented a country club on Long Island for the reception and truly went all out for his son and new daughter.

Nichole and Michael made their way through the guests, taking some time to talk to each. She was a radiant bride and he, like most grooms, was an uncomfortable guy in a penguin suit. “Her” penguin.

There was dancing and laughter and family and well wishes and everything else that was part of the “perfect” wedding. Like most weddings, it truly “was” perfect. At least as far as Nichole and Michael were concerned. The food was excellent, the band was fun and everyone they cared about was there to help them start their new lives together. There was cake-cutting, pictures, dancing and bouquets.

All throughout the night, Nichole could still sense traces of Michael on her, despite the perfume and food and other scents. It both comforted her and turned her on. As they danced their first dance together, Nichole whispered in his ear, “You’re still on my chest, Michael. I can smell you.”

The look in Michael’s eyes was one of pleasure and torment. Pleasure at the memory of the morning; torment at not being able to rip her dress off and fuck her senseless right there.

The party ended well after night fell. Finally, Ernie and Carole corralled the bride and groom into a waiting limousine and it was off to their hotel back in Manhattan.

The newlyweds were exhausted after a long day. Neither said word for a long time. The drive back to Manhattan was peaceful and quiet. Nichole rested her head on Michael’s shoulder. They held hands.

The limousine took them to the Plaza Hotel, one of New York’s oldest and most luxurious hotels, and literally a stone’s throw from their apartment. The driver let them off and amidst cheers from the hotel staff and a handful of other guests, they new couple was escorted up to their suite.

Someone (probably Ernie) must have called ahead; their bags were unpacked, and a hot bath was already drawn. A bottle of champagne sat in a bucket of ice next to the bed. The bed was covered in rose petals. The bellhop congratulated them again and left before Michael could even offer to tip him. Michael picked Nichole up and carried her across the threshold to the bedroom.

She kissed him tenderly. He set her down on the bed and she started to undress him.

“I need a bath,” Nichole whispered in his ear. “Would you care to join me?”

“I think I’ll fall asleep in the tub.”

“Then you get undressed and I’m going to clean up.”

Nichole got up off the bed and began to disrobe, carefully hanging up her wedding dress. Both were too tired to say much of anything. Michael took of his tuxedo and put on one of the hotel’s robes. Nichole chuckled to herself as she watched Michael double-check to make sure everything was where it was supposed to be.

“Just like his father”, she thought.

Nichole disappeared into the bathroom, taking the champagne with her. The tub was hot, with a nice mixture of oils and scents in the water. She soaked for a long time, thinking back on the day and how perfect it was. When she almost dozed off in the bath, she realised it was time to go to bed.

She dried off and slipped into a robe.

“Honey, where are the—,” she stopped when she saw Michael asleep on the bed. Drained from a long, hard day. The television was on. The Discovery Channel. “As if he doesn’t watch enough shows about sharks, military aircraft and geodesic formations. At least it’s not a show about tanks.”

After hunting for the remote, Nichole flipped the TV off, turned out the lights and crawled into bed beside her husband. She listened to the rhythmic sound of his breathing and fell asleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Michael awoke with a start. He was in the middle of an odd dream: two brown bears in tutus were riding bicycles through the streets of Paris. Everyone around them was naked except for fig leaves over their genitals and pasties covering their nipples. He was the only one who was completely naked and he was looking for a quart of motor oil.

He didn’t have time to ponder the dream’s deeper meaning; in the groggy state between a deep slumber and alertness, he realised Nichole was not in bed beside him. He started to sit up, but a strong hand pushed his chest back down. He collapsed back into the bed.

Something warm enveloped the head of his cock. He felt a hand steady his erect cock and the warmth descend down the shaft. He raised his head to see Nichole going down on him. The top of her head bobbed up and down steadily. Her ass was raised up on her knees between his legs.

Nichole gave his cock a series of wet, sloppy kisses, leaving a coating of warm saliva on his sex. She swirled her tongue around his head, and nibbled softly on the underside. She was rushed giving her last blow job; she was going to make this one last.

With one hand she cupped his balls as the other hand moved up and down in time with her mouth. Her rhythm varied and every couple of strokes she took all of his length in her mouth and down her throat.

Michael began to moan softly. He closed his eyes and fell deeper into the pillows.

“Oh, God, that feels so good,” he whispered.

“Shhhhhh,” Nichole said softly. “You’re asleep.”

After raking her teeth across his head, Nichole planted a series of soft kisses down the length of his cock, down the soft underside. Her hand gently ran its length in firm strokes.

She took one of his balls in her mouth, then the other. Michael arched his back. His spine tingled.

He could feel her hair brushing against the insides of his thighs. Her breath teased his cock while her mouth sucked on his balls.

Nichole put her hand over his testicles and her mouth went back to his cock. In a quick circular pattern, she ran her tongue all of the most sensitive parts, pausing every few seconds to take all it in her mouth.

Michael felt the tip of her tongue teasing the slit at the end of his cock, causing a shock wave of pleasure throughout his body. He felt the head of his cock start to pulse and knew he was close.

Nichole felt it too, and removed her mouth from his cock. She looked up to see Michael splayed out on the bed, his arms flung to the sides. His head rolled back and forth as she brought him back from the edge of his orgasm, using her hand to keep the stimulation constant but not overpowering.

Michael whimpered as his orgasm receded. “Don’t stop.”

Nichole smiled to herself. Satisfied that her lover wasn’t on the verge of cumming, Nichole attacked his cock again with her mouth, using her tongue, lips and teeth on him.

She ran her teeth across the bottom of his circumcised cockhead, then pressed the top against the roof of her mouth, eliciting a satisfied groan from Michael.

As she kissed the insides of his thighs, Michael brushed her hair out of her face. She looked up at him, trying to gauge his desire and deciding how long to hold him off.

Again she brought Michael to the verge of orgasm, and again she brought him down again. He started to buck his hips into her mouth, trying desperately to find the release he craved.

“Do you like that?” Nichole asked, biting the spot where his head met the shaft.

“Yes,” Michael slurred.

“Do you want to cum in my mouth?” She licked the slit.

“Yes.”

“What will you do for me, if I let you cum?” Nichole stroked him urgently, holding him at the cusp of his orgasm.

“I’ll love you for every day of my life,” Michael promised.

“Sounds good to me. Hang on to something.”

Nichole’s mouth covered his cockhead again. Her tongue swirled around it. She raked her teeth across it.

She squeezed his balls.

Michael felt his balls explode in Nichole’s mouth. She felt the veins on his cock go rigid. His head throbbed. She pressed his swollen phallus against the top of her mouth as the first jets of cum came streaming out. She swallowed it all. Two. Three. Four times he pulsed.

Michael arched his back and let out a bellowing moan. His hands gripped the sheets. His whole body tensed. Five. Six. Seven. The streams slowed as his orgasm passed.

Nichole ran her hand along the length of his cock, milking the cum from it. Eight. Nine. Ten. Savoring it.

Looking up, Nichole watched Michael’s face as he came. He was flushed. His eyes were closed. His mouth hung open, breathing heavily.

She licked his cock one more time then crawled on top of him, straddling his cock. Quickly, she began to rub it against her clit. Despite having just emptied inside her, it hardened immediately at the touch of her sex.

Going down on Michael excited her, made her wet. Masturbating with him made her soaked. Electric chills ran up her spine as she rubbed him against her. Her nipples hardened.

Steadying herself with one hand, she continued to rub him against her with the other, until she was close to her own orgasm. Michael lay on the bed, his eyes still closed. She admired his chest and arms. His beautiful face. His strong, gentle hands.

With a sigh, Nichole pointed his cock at the opening to her sex and dropped down hard. With a single motion, she took his cock inside her pussy. Her mouth fell open. She tingled from head to toe.

Nichole bent over and kissed Michael hard. Her tongue entwined with his. He could taste himself in her mouth. Her hair brushed against his face.

“My turn,” she whispered in his ear.

Nichole lifted herself up and bounced down again on his cock. She cried out. Sitting up, she took his hands in hers and placed them on her breasts. He began to knead them together. He pinched her nipples.

“That feels so fucking good,” Nichole moaned. “I love it when you play with my tits.”

“I love it when you ride my cock.”

Nichole leaned forward into Michael’s hands, so he could steady her. His favourite part was coming up.

Very quickly, she began to bounce up and down on his cock, impaling herself on her lover. Her husband.

With every stroke, she cried out a little louder. She closed her eyes.

Up and down. Faster. Harder.

“You are so hard for me,” she gasped. “You feel so good.”

“Cum for me,” Michael whispered. “Cum all over me.”

Nichole threw her head back, pushing her chest out. Michael squeezed her breasts hard. She lost herself as her orgasm built.

The cock inside her touched all the sensitive spots. She heard her ass slapping against Michael’s hips every time she came down on him. Her moans turned to screams.

Harder. Faster.

As if in a dream, she heard Michael say, “I’m about to cum inside you. Please cum with me. Cum on me.”

With a feral moan, Nichole brought herself down on him and the fireworks started. For a brief instant, she forgot who she was. She forgot who she was with. All she cared about was the fire that consumed her. The passion that enveloped her.

Her pussy filled with her cum, coating Michael’s cock and flowing down on his balls and to the bed. In her eyes, colours flared, her vision focused singly on her husband’s face, lost in his own orgasm. She continued to grind against him, rubbing her clit against the base of his cock, frantically trying to take as much of him inside her as she could.

It seemed to never end. She hoped it would never end.

She stopped moving, taking all of his length inside her. Maybe it was imagined, maybe it wasn’t, but she could feel his cock head pulsing inside her, emptying his balls into her womb.

Her orgasm subsided, but didn’t go away. There was a pleasant buzzing in her ears. She could feel her heart pounding.

Only Michael’s strong, steady grip kept her from falling over.

A contented smile formed on her lips. Nichole took her husband’s hands from her breasts and without dismounting him, straightened her legs and lay on top of him. She pressed against his chest. Michael held her close. Her toes still tingled.

They kissed again. Tenderly. Lovingly.

“Thank you.” Michael said softly.

“Shhhh, you’re asleep.” Nichole rested her head on his shoulder, listening to their hearts beating together.

She drifted off with him inside her.

————————————–

Nichole felt good to be out with Terra and her friends. For the last year, she had been despondent over Michael’s death, but her grief had given way to loneliness, her heartache reduced to a dull, empty place in her soul.

Terra, Gabriel, Julie, Mark and Laurie gave Nichole her space, but clearly wanted her to let go of her solitude, even if only for a night. After dinner, they went to the club, where Mark had made arrangements for some of the cast of “Naked Boys Singing”, to give Julie a special birthday performance.

For the rest of the night, Nichole forgot about Michael. She forgot about the sad look on her father’s face when he came to her doorstep. She forgot about the trip to the hospital. She forgot about her heart breaking when she saw Michael’s broken body. She forgot about the funeral.

With her friends and a bunch of naked gay men singing, dancing, and goofing off, Nichole laughed. Sometimes so much her stomach hurt and she couldn’t breathe. Sometimes so hard tears streamed down her cheeks.

It was the best time she had since, well, since Michael died.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Terra asked at the end of the night.

“No,” Nichole said. She didn’t want to go home and be alone, but she wasn’t dreading it either. “I’ll be all right.”

————————————–

Nichole woke up alone. She heard Michael in the bathroom. It sounded like he was shaving. She lifted her head. It was almost eleven. Her hair was a mess. She could smell Michael’s sweat and cologne on the pillow. The sweetness of her own sexual exertions mixed with Michael’s.

“Honey,” she called out. “Come back to bed.”

“Not a chance, you minx.” Michael’s head appeared in the door. “We’re supposed to meet everyone for lunch at noon.”

Nichole rolled over on her side so she faced her husband. She beckoned to him. “C’mon, Michael. Meet your fate like a man.”

“Come shower with me.” He was trying to placate her and delay the inevitable.

Nichole threw off the covers, exposing her naked body. “I’m waiting.”

“Good lord!” Michael laughed. “You’re insatiable.”

“I’m a newlywed. And I’m horny,” she purred. She rolled over on her back and spread her legs. She ran one hand the length of her body, her fingernails brushing her skin. Nichole settled her hand on her breast and began rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Now get over here and perform your husbandly duties.”

The smile disappeared from Michael’s face. Nichole could tell he was getting hard. Michael’s eyes burned with desire.

Nichole’s other hand went to her pussy, which was filled with cum, both from her and her husband. She pressed two fingers against her clit. She moaned softly.

“I’m going to get off with or without you, Penguin,” she called again. Her hand moved faster. “I’d rather it was with you.”

She looked over at Michael. He was standing in the doorway. Naked. His cock was hard. He was stroking it.

“We’d better not be late.”

“If we are,” Nichole sighed as she struck a sensitive spot. “You can spank me.”

She closed her eyes. The hand on her breast squeezed. She bit her lip. She could hear Michael approaching her. Then she felt his weight upon her and the first day of their marriage started with fireworks.

————————————–

Nichole arrived at her apartment a little after midnight. It was dark.

Opening the door, the only light in the apartment was from the small desk lamp in the foyer that she left on all the time. She walked into the kitchen, past all of the pictures hanging in the hall of the short time she and Michael had together.

For the first time in a year, Nichole didn’t dread walking into the bedroom and wasn’t deafened by the silence of Michael’s absence. She undressed and got ready for bed. Her hair smelled of smoke and liquor splashed around by the Naked Boys.

Pulling her favourite nightshirt over her head, she crawled into bed with her penguin. Out of habit, she crawled into “her” side. Within a few minutes she was asleep. When she woke up, she was in the middle of the bed.

————————————–

The next year and a half was idyllic. With the company under Michael’s capable guidance, Ernie and John retired. Nichole continued to work as a translator and business consultant while working on her graduate degree at NYU.

They spent their honeymoon in the Caribbean and for Christmas, Nichole took her husband to Hong Kong. They talked of starting a family. They planned the rest of their lives together. Neither knew what the future held, but they fell deeper in love.

On baseball’s opening day, Michael planned to drive up to Boston with some friends to see his Yankees play the Red Sox. It was a cool Saturday morning and they woke up with the sun. Michael and his buddies were leaving late morning and coming back later that night.

Nichole rested her head on his chest. His strong arms held her close. He patted her on the backside and drew her close. He cupped her face with his hand and she kissed him.

“I love you,” she said quietly, pulling back as Michael tried to kiss her again. She smiled. “I’ve got a surprise for you this morning.”

“What is it?”

“I’m going to shower and make you breakfast.”

“In bed?”

“Not quite.”

With that, she bounded out of bed, naked, and went into the shower, wiggling her ass teasingly at her husband. She had a lot of work to do and wanted to be extra clean for him.

A short time later, Nichole came out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel. Her hair was pulled back, still damp. Michael was in bed, watching Animal Planet; “Predators & Scavengers”, or something like that.

Nichole went over to him and kissed Michael on the cheek. He tried to grope her under the towel.

“Hey, keep your hands to yourself,” she loved watching him pout. “Or you won’t get any breakfast.”

Nichole paused once more at the door before closing it. “Don’t come out until I call you.”

At one time, their apartment was one big room. The building itself was formerly a warehouse. When it was bought and renovated for residential use, the owner divided up the floors into suites. Michael rented out two of the apartments on the fourth floor and combined them into one big apartment.

The walls were still the original brick with high vaulted ceilings and large bay windows that wrapped around the entire building. Since they had almost half the floor, there were lots of large open areas with hardwood floors that reflected the warmth of Michael and Nichole.

The kitchen and living area was one big space with an island in the middle of the cooking area. In one corner was an informal dining area, with some couches and chairs near the windows where Nichole and Michael relaxed when no one else was around.

Nichole was a fairly good cook, but not as good as Michael. She descended on the kitchen, putting some bacon in a frying pan, some pancakes on the skillet and cut up some fruit. Nichole got out her mother’s made-from-scratch biscuit recipe and went to work. She heard Michael start the shower.

Then she began setting out her other breakfast treats.

“That smells great, honey,” Michael called when he was done cleaning himself. “Is breakfast ready?”

“Almost.” She replied, checking to make sure everything was in place.

She threw her towel across the room and set the last few items in just the right places. “Okay, Michael, come and get it.”

Michael opened the door and stopped dead in his tracks.

The previous Fall, they took a trip to Ohio to visit some of Nichole’s friends from college. While in Amish country, they picked up a magnificent table and had it shipped home. It was a rectangular picnic-style table with benches, hand made with typical, high-quality Amish craftsmanship. The heavy oak wood was stained to bring out a deep, rich colour.

One of the benches was on the side of the table, the other was at the foot, perpendicular to the table. Several candles were lit around the kitchen and dining area, their vanilla-scented wax permeating the air. Nichole was lying on her back, her feet on the bench with her freshly-shaved pussy showing for her husband.

Breakfast was all over the table. And Nichole. Michael chuckled at his wife’s creativity.

A tuft of whipped cream covered each of her nipples. Strawberries and slices of melon covered her stomach. Bacon, eggs and pancakes were on a plate between her legs. A biscuit was on each thigh, which also drizzled with honey and chocolate chips on her smooth skin.

“Looks good enough to eat,” Michael said. He bent over and kissed Nichole. A long, deep, messy kiss.

“It’s all here for your culinary delight,” Nichole smiled when he let her come up for air.

“Where do I sit?”

“At my feet, of course.”

Michael sat on the bench, careful not to pull it out from under Nichole’s feet. Nichole had a pillow under her head and she watched Michael begin his breakfast. His eyes kept drifting to her smooth pussy, spread wide for him.

Every couple of bites, Michael stood and fed his wife a piece of melon or strip of bacon. He took a biscuit off her thigh, cut it in half, then scraped a knife across her leg, slowly, collecting the honey. A chill ran up her spine.

When he was done with his plate, he took it to the sink then came back and sat on the bench next to his wife. There was still some fruit on Nichole’s stomach. He took a piece in his hand and then sucked the whipped cream off one nipple. It was hard underneath.

In a small circle around her areola, Michael pressed the melon against Nichole’s breast. It was cold. She shivered with delight.

He popped the cantaloupe into her mouth

Then Michael took another melon bite and paid the same attention to her other breast, feeding it to himself. She felt her nipple in his mouth. His teeth bit it softly and he pulled gently. Her breast stretched until he let it go. Her chest jiggled.

When all the fruit was gone he kissed her from her the base of her breasts to her hips, sucking up all the fruit juices. Nichole bit her lip to keep from crying out with pleasure.

Michael began to knead her breasts in his hands. He kissed her again. Her tongue worked its way into his mouth. She bit his lip softly.

Reaching over to a vase on the table, Michael took a rose in his mouth, careful not to stick himself with a thorn. His hands returned to her breasts.

Slowly, deliberately, he brushed the rose against Nichole cheek. The soft petals made her skin crawl.

Michael’s hands began to wander, rubbing, caressing. His featherlight touch tickled and teased her in all the right places.

The flower brushed against her breasts. Nichole arched her back with pleasure and moaned softly.

Michael worked his way down her body until he was sitting on the bench again between her legs.

Placing the rose on the table, Michael began to lick the rest of the honey off her thighs. His lips lingered on her skin.

Michael’s teeth scraped against her. Nichole moaned again, louder.

She could feel her sex throbbing. He was so close to where she wanted him, but delighted in teasing her. Gradually, he worked his way up each leg, nibbling on every square inch. Driving her crazy. Until all the honey was gone.

The kisses became longer, more intense. He bit the most sensitive part, just on the inside of her thigh. Nichole gasped. He did it again on the other side.

She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair. Her eyes were closed.

Nichole felt him pull back, then his hands were under her ass. He pulled her body towards him and set her back down so her ass was on the edge of the table. Her feet still rested on the bench.

And then he kissed her.

All the blood in her body seemed to rush into her clit as Michael’s lips enveloped her.

“Holy God!” Nichole cried out. “That feels so good, Michael!”

His tongue flicked against her clit. She could feel his breath against her skin, still sensitive from the shaving.

Michael took her clit between his lips and squeezed. Nichole squealed with delight.

In small circles and then larger ones, Michael massaged her sex with his tongue and mouth. Nichole couldn’t contain herself and began to buck against him. Her hand gripped his head and she pulled him towards her.

A finger replaced the tongue on her pussy. “If you don’t stop moving, I’ll quit.”

She moaned in protest.

“But that feels so good . . . ”

Michael resumed his oral attack on his wife’s pussy. She could barely contain herself.

“Oh, Michael . . . God, that feels so good . . . so good . . . Yes! Right there! Right there! Yes, Michael . . .”

She felt is tongue enter her. He was breathing on her clit. She was in heaven.

Strong hands lifted her buttocks off the table as Michael devoured her sex. Biting. Nibbling.

He lapped up her juices. Nichole closed her eyes as she felt her climax approaching.

“Yes, right there . . . That’s the spot, Michael . . . That’s it . . .”

She closed her eyes and started to see flashes of colour. The fireworks were about to start.

“I love the way you eat my pussy . . . I love . . . Oh!”

His tongue mashed against her swollen clit.

“Oh, God! . . . I’m about to cum . . .”

The room started to spin.

“I’m about to . . . Oh, yes! . . . Oh, God, I’m . . .”

Her toes tingled.

“Yes . . . Yes! Eat me, Michael . . . Eat meeeee! . . . NOOOOOOOO!”

She howled with frustration as she heard Michael push the bench he was sitting on back. He lifted her off the table. She was so close!

Her feet hit the floor and her legs almost gave out. Michael’s arms steadied her. Frantically, she reached down and began to finger herself, rubbing her clit, trying to summon the orgasm that was slipping away.

“Put your hands on the table,” he commanded.

She ignored him, desperately trying to finish herself off. A sharp “slap!” across the backside got her attention.

“Please, Michael,” she wailed. “I need to cum!”

“Put your hands on the table,” he said again, forcefully. When she paused another “slap!” stung her bare bottom.

Each hand went to the edge of the table. Michael pushed her forward so her rear was sticking out. He hooked one foot inside her ankle and kicked her legs apart. She stood there, bending over, her arms and legs spread.

Michael pressed against her back. She could feel his hard cock through his sweatpants. She pressed her ass against him.

“What did I tell you not to do?”

“But it felt so good . . . you were—”

“Slap!”

“What did I tell you not to do?”

“You told me not to move,” she cried out plaintively.

“And what did you do?”

“I couldn’t help it, Michael! I need—”

“Slap!”

“And what did you do?”

“I need to cum, Michael!” Tears of frustration began to run down her cheeks. “Please, Michael! Please eat—”

“Slap! Slap!”

“And what did you do?”

“I moved,” she whispered. “I moved when you told me not to.”

“That’s better,” he whispered back in her ear. His breath tickled and aroused his earlobe. His hand gently caressed her stinging backside, which surely was a bright red from the spanking.

He took her earlobe between his lips and sucked gently. She moaned with pleasure. He continued down her neck, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses, then blew cold air along the same path. She shivered with pleasure.

Michael’s lips were soft and gentle across the back of her neck. His teeth raked the most sensitive parts. She felt the sparks of a new orgasm begin to build within her.

His cock was rock hard and pressing against her ass.

She reached back and began to fondle his hard-on, but another s”lap! “and her hand went back to the table.

“I didn’t tell you to do anything else with your hands.” His voice was hard. Authoritative. In control.

Nichole whimpered in frustration.

Her husband continued across her back, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles, first across her shoulders, then down her spine.

Reaching around, he cupped her breasts. He squeezed them and she let out a soft gasp. He pressed his cock harder against her backside. She wanted him. She “needed” him.

Her desire overtook her and she started to grind her hips against his. He pulled away and the kisses continued down to the base of her spine. He kissed her across the small of the back. She tingled with excitement.

Nichole closed her eyes and bit her lip when he pinched her nipples, then his hands were gone.

She heard his sweatpants fall to the floor as Michael kicked them off.

A strong hand slowly pushed her down, until she was bent over. Her ass stuck out and her legs were spread wide. The table felt cool against her breasts and face.

Michael’s sex was between her legs, his erection pressing against her throbbing pussy. His pubic hair tickled her ass.

She felt one of his hands on her backside, then felt the head of his cock rubbing between her ass cheeks. He teased her anal opening, then his head was rubbing lower, against her swollen clit.

Nichole braced herself as Michael pressed his cock into her hungry sex that was slick with her juices. He entered her slowly. Deliberately.

When he was all the way in, he held it for a long moment, filling her up with his hardness. She squeezed his cock with her vaginal sphincter. She heard him grunt with pleasure.

Spreading her arms, Nichole gripped the edges of the table and held on as Michael pulled back, then thrust back in.

Michael’s fingers dug into her ass. When he pulled out, he pushed her away. When the tip of his cock was almost ready to slip out, he pulled her towards him and rocked his hips forward at the same time.

Each thrust brought a satisfying s”lap! “as he buried his cock inside her.

Nichole gasped with each thrust. His hips moved furiously as he assaulted her from behind. Even the heavy oak table shook.

Rear entry was one of Nichole’s favourite positions. She loved the submissiveness of it. She loved being at Michael’s mercy. She loved the feel of his entire length inside her. She loved being impaled upon her husband’s cock. She loved giving in to the trust and love of allowing her husband to dominate her. To pleasure her. To control her.

With one final hard thrust, Michael slowed his rhythm. Instead of fast and furious, he held is cock inside her for long moments, then slowly withdrew until he was almost out of her, then slowly—teasingly—pushed back in.

He moved his hips from left to right, stretching her in a different direction.

“Oh, Michael!” she mumbled. “That feels wonderful . . .”

Suddenly, he thrust deep inside her and held it for a long, long time. He let out a feral growl

She knew he was close to cumming. If she moved or squeezed with her pussy, she would push him over the edge. If she let him go for a few seconds, his orgasm would recede and their lovemaking would continue. She was half tempted to grind on him and set him off after he was so “mean” to her earlier when he didn’t finish going down on her, but decided against that. She was having too much fun!

Michael let out his breath and she knew he was ready for more. Her ass still stung from the spanking, and was still sore from his hands bracing against it, but she wanted more.

She felt his chest press against her back and he kissed her in the middle of her spine, right between the shoulder blades. He pulled her up off the table, and she propped herself up with her arms, her hands never leaving the table.

Both of his hands reached around to cup her pendulous breasts and he started to slowly work his cock in her pussy again.

One hand rolled an erect nipple between its index finger and thumb, while the other worked its way down her stomach to her bare pussy.

Her labia were spread wide and Nichole shuddered when Michael began rubbing the nub of her clit. She felt her pussy flood with even more juices. Her body was covered with sweat.

The hand on her breast let go only to grab a handful of her hair and pull. She cried out in surprise. Her back arched. Michael turned her head to the side, exposing her neck and throat.

Michael’s teeth bit into her neck. Nichole’s mouth fell open. He didn’t let go of her hair and even pulled harder. His rhythm increased, both in his thrusts and the hand that was fingering her clit.

The hand left her clit and she felt him grab a second handful of her hair. Her back arched even further as Michael used her hair to pull her into him. Nichole began to scream with pleasure.

“You are so hard for me . . . that feels so fucking good!”

He pulled harder.

Michael bit her at the top of her neck, just behind her ear. “Touch yourself.”

One hand went to her pussy. It was soaked.

She could feel Michael’s balls and stroked the bottom of his shaft as he continued to move in and out. Two fingers began to rub back and forth against her clit.

The dual sensations of his cock inside her and the hand on her clit was driving her crazy. The room began to spin again and her knees trembled as her orgasm came.

“Oh, God! . . . Oh, yes . . . I’m about to . . . .I’m about to cum . . .”

She felt Michael press his cock deep inside her and he held it as her hand worked over her clit. The tingling came back to her toes.

Michael let go of her hair and cupped her breasts again. He steadied her while at the same time stimulating another of her erogenous zones.

“Oh, Michael!” Nichole began to rock her hips back and forth on his cock as her pussy exploded with sparks of ecstasy.

Her pussy started to contract uncontrollably and it set Michael off. She could feel his cockhead pulsing inside her and the warm sensation of his cum mixing with her own.

With a heavy sigh, Michael pulled his cock out of Nichole, then she felt is strong arms around her. He picked her up and carried her the short distance to the couch. He plopped down, exhausted.

She straddled him and took his spent cock inside her and they sat together silently caressing each other. Savouring the post-coital glow.

“Thank you for breakfast,” he said finally.

“You’re welcome.” She kissed him gently.

“Are you going to have dinner ready for me when I get home tonight?” He smiled.

“I think you’re going to be out too late for dinner, but if you ask nicely, I just might make you breakfast tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you could top breakfast today.”

“I’ve still got a few tricks, Mister,” she teased.

“Good. I’ll look forward to that.” He kissed her between her breasts.

“Promise me something, Michael.”

“Anything, my love.”

“Promise me you’ll love me forever.”

He looked deep into her eyes. It seemed as if were gazing into her soul. “I promise I’ll love you until the day I die.”

————————————–

Nichole woke up the next morning and felt good. A little groggy, but not hungover. The sun was shining through her windows.

Something the night before had changed. It wasn’t anything she could put her finger on, but her first thought that morning wasn’t a feeling of dread or self-pity.

She walked to the bathroom, and started the shower. The warm water washed over her, cleansing her not only physically, but emotionally. A year later, she realised that was the day she turned the corner from grief to healing.

Wrapped in a towel, Nichole went to the living room. The city was just getting up. There was a cool autumn breeze coming through the windows.

Nichole settled on the couch, a bottle of diet soda in her hands. Nichole sat there for a long, long time, her gaze settled on the silver urn that hadn’t moved in almost a year.

It was time.

————————————–

The look on her father’s face was serious. Nichole immediately knew something was wrong.

They stood in the entryway to the kitchen, staring at each other for an eternity.

“Get your purse,” he whispered. “And your coat.”

“What’s wrong?” Nichole managed to get past the lump in her throat. “Something happened to Mom, or one of the other kids.”

“It’s Michael,” Ernie said quietly. “He was in an accident.”

“Is he okay?”

The look in her father’s eyes told her everything.

Nichole folded into his arms. She felt him holding her up. She started to cry.

Ernie’s heart broke as Nichole’s sobs overtook her. His paternal instincts were to shield her from the pain and evils of the world, but there was nothing he could do about this one. All he could do was hold her and fight back is own tears.

When Nichole was little, she was scared by thunder and lightning. During the particularly bad storms, she’d cry out and Ernie would come in and hold his little girl, making the thunder less threatening and rocking her back to sleep.

Ernie rocked her back and forth in his arms. Nichole’s tears gradually subsided. She held on to her father for a long time.

“Come on,” Ernie said, wiping the tears from his daughter’s face. “We need to go.”

Nichole steadied herself against the kitchen counter as Ernie gathered up Nichole’s purse and coat.

There was a cab waiting outside which whisked them away to the ER at St. Vincent’s. Nichole was in a daze.

The entire family was waiting at the hospital. Michael’s parents John and Elizabeth sat quietly, holding hands, as if in shock.

Nichole’s mother threw her arms around her. “Do you remember Jimmy Williams? He’s over at the reception desk. You need to go talk to him.”

Jimmy was one of Michael’s friends from high school. Now he was one of New York’s Finest. He gave her a hug.

“Hi, honey.” He smiled, but his voice was grave. “How are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Nichole said. “What happened?”

“I talked to Bryan a few minutes ago; he’s a mess now. It looks like Troy and Mikey dropped him off at his place, then were coming down Broadway.” Jimmy winced. “They were coming this way and a cab ran a red light at 53rd. Troy swerved and clipped a Toyota in the right lane. He lost control, bounced off a third car and got rammed by a bus from behind.”

Nichole started to tremble. Carole put her arms around her daughter.

“Troy was thrown out of the car and died on the way in.” Jimmy paused and drew in a deep breath. “Mikey wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. He hit his head on the windshield and the airbag blew up on his chest.”

The room started to spin. Nichole felt faint. She felt Carole and Jimmy lead her to a chair. She collapsed into the cushions.

“Ronny and I got there right after the ambulance did, but they still had to cut him out of the car.” The policeman paused again.

“Is he okay?” Nichole whispered.

“Sure he is. Mikey’s tough like that.” He was lying. Nichole didn’t care, though; he told her what she wanted to hear. “Remember when Rhett hit him in the head with the baseball? It’s just a bump on the noggin.”

“How long has he been in there?” Nichole pointed towards the ER surgical suite.

“About 45 minutes,” Jimmy took her hand. “Listen, I’ve got to write up the accident report on this. If you need me, I’ll be right over there.”

“Thanks, Jimmy.”

Carole started to chatter. That was a bad sign. Her mother talked and rambled when she was nervous, scared or both.

“Jimmy came over as soon as they got Michael out of the car. He said he didn’t want some stranger to deliver the news to us,” Carole said. “He’s such a sweet boy. It’s too bad we couldn’t fix him up with your sister. His parents are the nicest folks. You know, they came to your wed-”

She stopped in mid sentence. Nichole turned and saw the door to the ER room open. A man in surgical scrubs came out. He walked over to the nurse’s station. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion. Everyone got quiet.

The doctor talked with the attendant at the nurse’s station. She pointed towards John and Elizabeth, then Nichole. He began to walk towards them, taking of his gloves, mask and safety glasses.

John and Elizabeth stood. Carole pulled Nichole to her feet. Everyone gathered around.

“Good evening, folks. I’m Dr. Rivas,” he said in a pleasant voice. “You’re Michael Galloway’s family?”

“That’s right,” John said. “How is he?”

“It’s not good. He had a couple of broken ribs, a punctured lung and a concussion.” The doctor paused. A pained look flashed across his eyes. Nichole drew in a sharp breath. “That’s the easy part.”

He stopped talking for what seemed like an eternity. “His blood pressure has been extremely low. I can’t say for certain, but it looks like one of his heart valves may be leaking or stopped working. We got him stabilised, but he’s going to need emergency heart surgery. Dr. Tran is prepping him right now.”

“How long do you think he’ll be in surgery?” someone asked.

“It’s hard to say. I’m not a cardiovascular specialist. They should be taking him up any minute now.”

“Thank you, doctor,” John said quietly. He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth, who was crying softly.

“If you need anything else, I’ll be here all night.” He turned and walked back to the nurse’s station, ready for the next case.

Nichole choked back the tears. She was confused. Angry. Scared. ” Why weren’t you wearing a seatbelt, Michael? You can’t leave me like this!”

She started to sit down, but snapped her head around when she heard the door to the surgical suite open. A pair of orderlies and a nurse wheeled Michael out of the room and down the hall towards the elevator. She started after them.

Michael’s body was covered by a sheet. He had a neck collar on and a tube down his throat. His head was covered with bandages where his face hit the windshield. There was blood in his hair. He looked so helpless.

Nichole panicked. She started to run after him. Nathan caught her arm. “You can’t go with him.”

“The hell I can’t!” She tried to twist free of her brother’s grasp.

“Nic, let them do their jobs.”

Filled with frustration, anger, fear and helplessness, Nichole lashed out and struck her brother. The suddenness and ferocity of the strike caused him to let go of her arm and he took a step back.

ep back.

Nichole took off in a dead run towards the gurney bearing her husband.

She didn’t see Jimmy moving towards her, but she felt his arms around her waist as he picked her up and pulled her close. Her arms and legs flailed, trying to escape his grasp.

“Goddamn it, let me go! Let me go!” Nichole shrieked, futilely pulling against Jimmy’s strong arms. She stretched her arm out towards her husband. “Michael! Michael, you can’t leave me like this! You can’t leave me . . . You can’t leave me . . .”

The orderlies pushed Michael into the elevator and the doors closed behind them. Nathan took his sister in his arms, wrapping her in a loving bear hug. Tears ran down his cheeks.

Nichole’s struggling subsided, her voice dropped to a whisper. “He can’t leave me . . . he can’t . . .”

She started to sob. Hard, uncontrollable sobs. Nathan and Nichole collapsed on the floor in each others’ arms.

Michael was in surgery for close to six hours.

Nichole, John and Elizabeth never left the hospital. Everyone else came and went in shifts, to rest themselves and to make sure Michael’s parents and wife ate and took a nap and ate something.

After waiting for hours, Nichole, John and Elizabeth huddled around Michael’s bed in the ICU. His face was bruised, but washed. A hospital gown covered the stitches on his chest. He was on a respirator and a heart pump.

The faint sounds of the machines were the only noises in the room.

“Dr. McKenzie is cleaning up,” the nurse said. She had a warm, generous smile. “He’ll be in shortly.”

After all the waiting, a more few minutes wasn’t much longer. But it seemed like an eternity.

Nichole jumped when the door opened. Three men walked in. One was a nurse who began hanging up x-rays in front of a light on the wall. Two were of a chest, and the third sheet had CAT scans on it.

“Good evening,” one of the other men said. He looked at his watch. “Or rather, good morning. I’m Steve McKenzie, this is Dr. Walker.”

According to Nichole’s sister, Dr. McKenzie was a well-known cardiothorasic surgeon. She didn’t know Dr. Walker.

“Would you folks come over here for a second?” Dr. McKenzie pointed at the chest x-rays. He had a pleasant, easy-going bedside manner, unlike most doctors Nichole knew. “Michael’s chest partially collapsed when the airbag hit him. The ribs here, here and here were broken and his lung was punctured here. That’s not the real problem; Dr. Rivas and Dr. Tran down in the ER did a magnificent job of taking care of those injuries.”

He turned to John and Elizabeth. “Do either of you have heart problems? No? Hmmm . . . Michael’s heart is about ten percent larger than the average heart for an adult male his size. Generally, that’s good. But he also had valve that wasn’t as efficient as it should have been. Did he ever complain of chest pain?”

Nichole shook her head.

“That’s probably because with an extra-large heart, he was pumping more blood, which covered up for the leaky valve. When the airbag went off, his heart stopped. It’s bruised here and here. The tricuspid valve here between the atrium and ventricle was damaged and had to be replaced. Also, his heart is not pumping at full strength; that’s why he’s on the heart pump.”

“How strong is his heart?” John asked.

“About forty percent right now.”

“Can we expect a full recovery?” Elizabeth gripped Nichole and John’s hands.

The two doctors exchanged nervous glances. Nichole’s mouth went dry and her heart leaped into her throat.

“Dr. Walker is our resident brain surgeon and he can best address that.”

Walker’s voice was much deeper. Gravelly. He was intense and cut quickly to the chase. “When Michael’s heart stopped, blood stopped flowing to his brain. From the time of the accident until the when the Jaws of Life got him out of the car, about 15 minutes passed. Dr. McKenzie thinks his heart was stopped for the entire time.”

He paused to let the words sink in.

“In essence, Michael suffered a massive stroke. If you’ll look at these fMRI images, you’ll notice that there is no activity in most of brain. These parts should be green, red or yellow, not gray or black.”

Tears started to flow down Nichole’s cheeks. She would have fallen if Dr. McKenzie didn’t catch her.

“Even his hypothalamus, the part that regulates involuntary functions, suffered some damage.”

Dr. McKenzie held Nichole’s hands. “We can repair his heart and his lungs. But we can’t repair his brain.”

John pulled Elizabeth and Nichole close to him. All three started to cry. The doctors stood around uncomfortably for several minutes while Nichole, John and Elizabeth held each other.

“May I speak to you outside?” John asked the doctors, leaving Nichole and Elizabeth alone with Michael.

They stood there, arm in arm, staring at the shell of someone they loved more than life itself. Neither said a word.

John came back in a few minutes later. “I called Ernie and Carole and the rest of the family. They’ll be here shortly.”

His eyes were still wet, but he had a steely veneer. Nichole knew he was dying inside, but for everyone else, John wanted to be seen as strong and unassailable. She envied his ability to sublimate his fear and sadness.

“Dr. McKenzie and Dr. Walker say his chances of recovery are one in a million. Michael left a living will; did you know about that, Nichole? He never wanted to be put on one of those damn machines.”

“I know,” Nichole said, wiping away the tears. “We talked about this once. I didn’t want to, but he wouldn’t let it drop.”

“I’ve made arrangements with Dr. McKenzie to have him removed from life support as soon as the rest of the family says good-bye.” John pulled his wife close as she started to sob. Nichole took several deep breaths and tried to hold back her own.

“I want to take him home,” Nichole said suddenly. “I don’t want him to die here. Not like this.”

John and Elizabeth both looked shocked, but nodded their assent. Hospitals were sterile and crowded. They were noisy. Impersonal. Michael deserved to die in peace, in a familiar place. At home.

Nichole rushed out of the room, looking for Dr. McKenzie. She flagged him down in the hallway.

“How long will Michael live once he’s taken off the respirator and heart pump?”

Dr. McKenzie thought for a second. “His heart’s beating, but it’s weak and so is his breathing. Five or six hours. Maybe seven.”

“I don’t want him to die here,” Nichole said.

“I understand,” Dr. McKenzie said, a sad, compassionate look in his eye. “I’ll make arrangements to have him transported to your house first thing in the morning.”

When she returned to her room, the family was starting to trickle in. John was delivering the news of Michael’s condition to everyone as they arrived.

“We’re taking him home tomorrow,” Nichole said to John.

He smiled at her. “You know he loved you more than anything, don’t you?”

“I know,” Nichole whispered.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. The rest of the family came and tried as best they could to console themselves and each other.

There were some delays in the ambulance service, and Nichole didn’t get home until almost dark the next day. She hadn’t slept in over 36 hours.

Dr. McKenzie rode in the ambulance with Nichole and Michael. John, Elizabeth, Ernie and Carole were waiting at her apartment, along with all of her brothers and sisters. Emily even managed to get some emergency leave and hopped the first flight in from Orlando.

The ambulance crew wheeled Michael into their bedroom and gently lay him on the bed, even knowing they’d be back the next day. His chest was wrapped in bandages. The cuts on his face were washed. His eyes were closed. He looked like he was sleeping.

Nichole pulled the covers over him. His breathing was shallow but steady.

Michael’s family stood in his bedroom silently. The machines were gone. There were no pings or beeps or air pumps. Except for the ambient sounds coming from the streets of the City That Never Sleeps, the room was silent and peaceful.

The initial grief was passed. Everyone was in shock.

Nichole went to the door. “If you would like a few minutes alone with him, now’s the time.”

Everyone filed out except John and Elizabeth. Nichole closed the door behind them. The sun was setting.

Over the next couple of hours, the family cycled into the bedroom, everyone saying their good-byes, leaving tears and kisses on Michael’s cheeks.

The somber mood hung over everyone else until Michael’s younger brother Rhett got into the photo albums. He passed them around and the memories started to flow. Tears of joy replaced the tears of sadness as the family recalled Michael’s life.

John and Elizabeth reminisced about the day they brought new-born Michael home from the hospital, and the time when Emily tried to glue his hair back on after cutting it off with a pair of sewing scissors. Ernie told the story about Michael’s first t-ball at bat when he ran to third instead of first.

With each story, with each memory, they let Michael go. Surrounded by their family, they cherished his memory together, sharing the joys and good times, supporting each other.

The hallmark of the family, laughter, lifted the darkness that hung over their hearts, but everyone fell silent when the last of them had gone in to see Michael. Everyone but Nichole.

Nichole stood and took a deep breath. She walked to the bedroom, aware of the eyes upon her. She closed the door behind her.

The lamp on the nightstand was on. Nichole sat on the edge of the bed. She took Michael’s hand in her own.

“I love you,” she whispered, choking back tears.

Nichole lay on the bed next to her husband, looking at him for a long time, watching his chest rise and fall with each shallow breath. She reached over and turned out the light. The starlight shone through the window.

She curled up against Michael, and lay her head on his chest. She pulled his arm around her and pretended he was holding her tight.

Closing her eyes, Nichole tried to wish away the previous 48 hours. She expected Michael to tap her on the shoulder and tell her it was all a bad dream. She prayed for a miracle.

Nothing happened.

The tears came, slowly at first, then in heartbreaking sobs.

Nichole was frustrated, scared, angry and sad. She wept for Michael. She wept for herself. She wept for unborn children and memories that would never be. She wept for an uncertain future.

Nichole was angry with Michael for leaving her. She was angry at the drivers of the cars involved in the accident. She was angry with God for taking the love of her life from her.

More than anything, Nichole felt an empty space in her heart. A void of despair and hopelessness. Michael’s strength was gone. His encouraging words, his moral certainty and his omnipresent love disappeared.

She cuddled close to him, trying desperately to hold on, as if by the sheer force of her will, she could stave of his death.

Nichole vowed to love him forever, and cried herself to sleep in his arms.

A soft glow filled the room as the first rays of daylight shone through the window, warming her. Michael’s arm was still draped around her shoulder.

With a start, Nichole jerked her head up and looked around. She blinked back the haze and looked up at Michael.

He was gone.

————————————–

The company picnic was a week after her night out with Terra and her friends. Ernie and John came out of retirement to run the company once again. Nichole showed up to the picnic smiling and carrying on friendly conversation. It was in the same corner of the Sheep Meadow where she and Michael had reconnected, three short years before.

People felt awkward talking to her; everyone there knew Michael, and everyone’s heart broke along with hers when he died. John and Ernie had built a solid company not only into a business but also into a family.

She felt the unspoken support through the hugs and the laughter.

Nichole was quiet; she had been withdrawn for most of the last year. But Ernie noticed something different about her that day. Her smile was back, not fully, but it was a start.

Right before the flag football game started, Nichole reached into her purse and drew out Michael’s ashes.

With tears in her eyes, she handed the silver urn to John and Elizabeth.

“It’s probably illegal, but I’d like to bury this underneath the oak tree,” she said.

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” John smiled at her. “Thank you.”

Nathan and Rhett found a shovel and dug a shallow hole. John placed the urn in the hole and began filing it with dirt.

“I love you,” Nichole whispered, knowing Michael was looking down upon her—upon them—and smiling.

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