Having a car wreck isn’t something I can recommend to anybody. It’ll scare the crap out of you and you get to see it all happen because for some reason, your brain slows everything down so you don’t miss any of the details. It’s like watching something in slow-motion.
I remember seeing my stoplight turn green and starting through the intersection. I remember looking to my left and seeing the little red sports car racing toward what I knew had to be a red light. About a car length into the intersection, I remember thinking the bastard wasn’t going to stop. About two pounding heartbeats later, I hit the brakes, but I was too late. The little red sports car plowed into the driver’s side of my sedan.
I was buckled in and had all the latest airbags and stuff, but they didn’t stop the bumper of the sports car from ramming into my door and pushing it half way past the seat. They tell me if that bumper had been a couple inches higher or lower, I’d have walked away. As it was, I felt something snap and then felt pain in my left leg like I’d never felt before. After that, things sort of get muddled up. The EMT’s said I went into shock, so that’s probably why I don’t remember much.
I do remember opening my eyes into a really bright light and seeing a cute little nurse taking my blood pressure. I remember some man, I assume the ER doctor, saying they needed to get me to surgery stat, just like you see on TV. I remember the mask going down over my face and then everything went black again.
When I woke up the next time, I was lying in bed in a dimly lit room. It didn’t look like my bedroom so I was confused for a few seconds. Then, the accident played out in my head again and I knew I must be in a hospital. I laid there for a few minutes trying to figure out how bad I was hurt, and when I tried wiggling my toes and moving my legs, they didn’t seem to work. Neither did my hands and arms, and for a second or so, I thought I might be paralyzed, but then I realized I was probably still just doped up with something.
I think I dropped off to sleep then. I remember closing my eyes and then nothing for a while. When I did wake up I heard, “pft, pft, pft, pft” and then “ssssss”. I opened my eyes and saw a nurse standing beside the bed. She pulled the velcro strip on the blood pressure cuff and took it off my right arm. When I said, “where am I”, she looked down at me and smiled.
“You’re in Memorial Hospital and you’re going to be fine. The doctor who did your surgery will come by in about an hour and explain everything to you.”
She showed me a little plastic cylinder with a button on one end and a wire on the other.
“If the pain gets too bad, just press this call button and one of us will bring you something for it.”
She left then, and I went back to sleep.
I woke up again because my leg hurt like a bitch. I pressed the little button on the button thing, and a couple minutes later the same nurse walked in.
“Pain getting to you?”
“I’ll be right back.”
She came back with one pill in a cup and a cup of water on a tray.
“I can give you this now, but you can’t have another until this afternoon so hang in there when it starts to wear off. Be sure you drink all the water too.”
Once I’d done that, she left, and a few minutes later, Dr. Morrison walked in. He explained my shin bone had been broken in the crash and had come out through the side of my leg.
“We got everything back into place and held it there with a titanium plate and some screws. That’s why you aren’t in a cast. We’re going to keep you here for a couple of weeks to make sure it starts to heal like it should, but that shouldn’t be a problem. You’re only thirty, so you should heal relatively quickly.”
He left then and the nurse came back in with breakfast. She said her name was Sally and she’d be on duty until about five. After that, another nurse would be there.
“Nancy will take good care of you tonight, and when she leaves, Sheila will be here until morning.”
She handed me the TV remote.
“So far, we don’t have anybody to put in the room with you, so you can watch whatever you want. I’ll be back in about five hours with lunch.”
That first day was boring as hell. My leg still hurt a little, but nothing I couldn’t handle, so that wasn’t a problem. The TV was. I’d never watched daytime TV except on the weekends because I was always working. Daytime TV sucks.
I didn’t have any visitors either. I called Mom and Dad after lunch and told them what happened. Since they were almost five hundred miles away, I told them not to come see me. Dad still drives OK, but I didn’t want them to risk the drive or pay for plane tickets. I said I’d keep them up to date if anything changed.
I’d only had my new job as a production supervisor for three weeks. I’d met most of the people in the office and shop, but wasn’t really friends with any of them, so none of them came to visit either. It was just me and re-runs of cop shows for the rest of the afternoon and for two hours after dinner that night.
Nancy was the nurse who brought my dinner, and I knew I was going to like her. She was a little younger than I, cute as a button, and even in her scrubs, I could tell she had a pretty nice body. I was a little disappointed that she didn’t want to stay and talk a little, but she wouldn’t. She just said since she was the only nurse on duty, she had a lot to do.
About nine, I discovered what one of those things was. Nancy wheeled a cart into the room, moved the little sign on the face of the door to “ENGAGED”, and then closed the door. She smiled at me then.
“I have to change your bandage. I’ll try to be gentle, but it might hurt a little.”
She pulled the sheet and blanket down to the end of the bed and started un-wrapping my leg. I suppose they were in a big hurry to fix me and didn’t have time to shave any of my leg except right around the injury. After Nancy pulled off the first strip of adhesive tape, I wished they had.
When I yelped, Nancy just grinned.
“It’ll hurt worse if I do it slow. There’s only two more, so hang in there with me.”
The next two hurt just as bad. It didn’t hurt when Nancy took the bandage off. She examined the line of sutures, pushed on them a little, and then smiled.
“You’re doing fine. I’ll put on a fresh bandage and then we’ll move on to your sponge bath.”
Well, that took me by surprise. Never in my life, well, not since I was really little, had a woman ever given me a bath, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that now. When I said that to Nancy, she just grinned.
“I do this all the time. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. You’ll feel better afterward, I promise.”
When she washed my face, it wasn’t too bad. When she washed my arms, it wasn’t too bad either. When she helped me roll over on my belly and then washed my back, it felt good. It was when she came to my ass I knew there was going to be a problem.
I didn’t know it before that, but apparently I have a very sensitive ass. It isn’t sensitive when I wash it, but when Nancy did…well, she was going to get a surprise when she turned me back over. She didn’t seem to notice anything though, so I didn’t tell her. She finished my ass, including a couple swipes down my crack that made my cock stiff as a poker, and then did the back of my legs.
When she turned me back over, she just grinned.
“I guess you are feeling better. Don’t be embarrassed. This happens sometimes and I’m used to it.”
It didn’t get any better when she washed my chest, and when she washed my balls, my cock started bobbing all by itself. Nancy didn’t seem phased at all. She just gently washed my balls, dried them and then moved on to my cock.
I caught her smiling when she stroked her sponge down the length. She didn’t say anything, but she seemed to take a while longer than she had anywhere else, and she had this little shy smile on her face.
Now, just so you know, I did try to warn her. She was washing the underside of my cock head when the feeling hit, and I knew I couldn’t stop it.
I said, “you better look out”, just before my cock throbbed out the first squirt. Nancy didn’t miss a beat. She just held the sponge over the tip of my cock until I stopped jerking my hips, and then put the sponge on her cart and got a different one. I thought she had a funny look in her eyes when she washed the rest of my cock, and I was pretty sure she was breathing a little faster and deeper.
After that, she pulled my hospital gown back down, smiled, and said, “Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
She covered me back up and said she’d be back to check on me in an hour or so. I don’t know if she did or not because I went to sleep.
I thought about what had happened all day long. I mean, I’d never thought you got sponge baths in the hospital. It made sense that you would, though. They couldn’t just let you lay there and smell. It was just odd that I’d reacted like I had. Well, not odd, considering, but I didn’t think in that environment I’d get aroused at all. It wasn’t like I had some girl in my living room and we were making out. This was a hospital and Nancy was a professional doing what she was supposed to do, and I was laying there with an injured leg. Neither was particularly sexy or erotic, but it had still happened.
The same thing happened again that night. Nancy came in, closed the door, and changed my bandage. After she had the new one on me, she smiled and reached for her sponge. Washing my ass made my cock stand up again, and when she washed my balls, I knew there was no way to stop it.
Nancy did something different this time, though. When she washed everything else, it was the same, but when she washed my stiff cock, she just gently stroked her sponge up and down, then around the swollen head, and then tickled the underside until I groaned. Just before I came, I saw her grin and then lick her lips. She was still grinning when she caught everything in her sponge and then changed it for a new one.
The way her face looked a little flushed was just more proof that she was enjoying my sponge bath as much as I was. I didn’t know what to think about that.
I thought some more during the day, and decided she must like making me cum. I wondered if she did it to all the men on the floor. I also wondered if she’d like a return of the favor. When she came in the next night pushing the same cart she had that same little grin on her face. After washed my back and ass again, she rolled me over, and I made sure I rolled to the edge of the bed.
Nancy was washing my balls when I let my hand slide down the bed and touched her on the thigh. She caught her breath, but she didn’t stop, so I moved my hand a little higher and then stroked a little.
She didn’t say anything like, “you shouldn’t be doing that”, and she didn’t back away. Instead, she moved a little closer and then spread her legs a little. By the time she was washing my cock, I was feeling her pussy through her scrubs.
Nancy didn’t cum, but I sure did. I did feel her starting to rub her pussy against my hand though. She stopped that as soon as I’d shot my last, then finished up and left without saying anything.
Well, that night made me a lot more interested in Nancy. Before, I’d figured she just had some fetish about jacking off guys, but when she’d started pushing her pussy into my hand, I knew there was more to it than that. I wanted to find out just how much more there was.
On Saturday night, Nancy was apparently off, because a different nurse came in to change my bandage. Carol was about fifty, and she was all business. She ripped off my bandage, replaced it, and then gave me a ten minute sponge bath. She didn’t wash my ass or my balls or my cock. She handed me the sponge and said I should do those parts. Once I had, she packed up and waltzed her wide ass out the door.
So now, I knew I was getting special treatment from Nancy. I didn’t know why, but I liked it. I had another night with Carol, and on Monday, Nancy came back.
She already looked a little flushed when she started my sponge bath, and when she turned me over, she stood where I could reach her. She was washing my balls when I cupped her pussy, massaged it a little, and then whispered, “Nancy, pull down your scrubs and panties.”
Nancy looked at me for a couple seconds, and then pulled her scrubs and panties down to her knees. When she started on my balls again, I was feeling her pussy lips. She caught her breath a couple times while she was drying them, and when I gently pushed on her thigh, she spread her legs. I slipped a finger between her pussy lips when she started washing my cock.
Nancy was wet enough she was slippery from her entrance to her clit, and I stroked her in time with the strokes she was making to my cock. When I felt that feeling that told me I had to hold on, I started rubbing beside her clit.
Nancy gasped then and stopped stroking my cock with her sponge. A second later, she’d closed her hand around my cock and was jacking it. That went on until she started rocking her pussy into my hand. She stifled a tiny little moan and then her knees buckled a little. She put her hand on my chest to steady herself, made a little moan again, and then started to pant. I started rubbing her clit a little faster then, and a couple minutes later, Nancy whispered, “Oh God”, and her body jerked into my fingers.
I could feel her pussy moving in and out when she started jacking my cock again. Once in a while, she’d stop to catch her breath, but it didn’t take long before I was humping my cock up into her hand. Nancy didn’t catch my cum this time, so I spattered it all over my chest and belly.
She was grinning when she cleaned it up, and before she left, she leaned over, kissed me on the cheek, and whispered, “Thank you”.
On Tuesday night, Nancy pulled down her scrubs and panties as soon as she started washing my balls. Once I had a finger between her pussy lips, I rolled to my side enough I could slide my other hand inside her top. When I gently squeezed her breast, Nancy murmured, “That feels good”.
She didn’t have big breasts, but they were firm and I could feel her nipples stiffen through the lace of her bra cups. She came before I did, just like before, but I think she might have cum a little harder.
By Friday afternoon, I was going nuts. Dr. Harrison said he was going to release me on Saturday and that meant I wouldn’t be seeing Nancy every night. I didn’t want that to happen. It wasn’t that she jacked me off and seemed to like doing that, and it wasn’t that she liked it when I made her cum. It was a combination of those things and the mystery of why she ever started doing it in the first place. That mystery made her an interesting person, and a person I wanted to know a lot more about.
That night was the same as all the others. I fingered her clit and played with her breasts while she stroked my cock. Nancy came first, and then jacked me until I did. She bent over to kiss me on the cheek after she’d pulled up her top, and after she did, I held her there.
“Nancy, they’re going to release me tomorrow and I don’t want to stop seeing you. I want to see you more. Is there a way I can do that?”
Nancy kissed me on the forehead.
“I don’t know. I have to think about it. I’m kind of afraid.”
“Afraid? Afraid of me?”
Nancy just raised up, stroked my cheek, and said, “I said I’ll think about it”.
Saturday after lunch, a nurse wheeled me out to the waiting cab, put my crutches in the back seat, and then helped me hobble in. All the way to my house, I was feeling pretty down. I hadn’t heard anything from Nancy. I thought she’d at least leave me a note saying she didn’t want to see me again. I wouldn’t have liked getting a note like that, but at least I could have stopped wondering.
By the time the cab pulled onto my street, I’d almost resigned myself to never seeing her again, but thought once I could drive again, I’d go to the hospital and watch for when she went to work. That felt a lot like I’d be stalking her, but I needed her to tell me she didn’t want to see me again before I could go on.
I’d paid the cab driver and was trying to get out and onto my crutches when I heard a familiar voice.
“Need some help? It looks like you do.”
There she was, only this time Nancy was wearing a T-shirt and jeans instead of scrubs.
“Nancy. I’ve been going crazy since last night wondering if I’d ever see you again.”
“I told you I’d think about it. I did think about it, and here I am.”
“How did you find me?”
“I got your address from the hospital records. I thought that’s where you’d probably go. I was right.”
“Well, come inside. We need to talk.”
Once we were inside, I closed the door and then hobbled over to my couch. Nancy helped me sit down and then sat down beside me. I put my hand on her arm.
“Nancy, I’m happy you’re here, but what was that last night about being afraid?”
Nancy looked at her lap.
“I know it’s silly, but it’s how I feel. I got married the year I got out of nursing school, but it didn’t work out very well. About six months later, my husband decided he didn’t love me so we got a divorce. Since then, I’ve been afraid if I met someone, that would end up the same way.”
I squeezed her arm gently.
“I can’t imagine any guy not liking you, and six months doesn’t seem like long enough to change his mind. It sounds to me like he didn’t love you in the first place.”
Nancy took a deep breath.
“I thought he did before we got married, but I know he didn’t after a couple of months. It was because I was working nights and he worked during the day. By the time I got home, he was asleep, and on the weekends, I was too tired. I wasn’t cold, like he said, I was just tired, and when we did it, I never could …I couldn’t have an orgasm. He got tired of trying and I got tired of trying so we stopped. After that, he found a woman who could and made sure I caught them in bed together so I’d divorce him.”
I lifted Nancy’s chin.
“Nancy, if he did that, he didn’t love you very much if at all. If he had, he’d have tried to work things out. I’m sure he could have, because you didn’t have that problem with me.”
Nancy dropped her face again.
“I always can that way. It’s the other way I can’t. I think it’s like he said – there’s something wrong with me. You can’t imagine how much it hurts to think you’re somehow defective. I know that can happen, that some women can’t, because I learned that in nursing school. That’s why I was afraid. I was afraid if we got close enough to do it, I’d still not be able to and you’d do the same thing he did..”
I lifted her chin back up so I could look her in the face.
“If that’s how you feel, why did you do what you did?”
“I studied what men do when they have an orgasm, but I’d never seen it except in films, not even my husband. I liked you and I thought maybe you’d like it and I’d get to watch and see what it’s like for a man. I didn’t expect you to do what you did though.”
“You didn’t tell me not to. Why?”
“I was going to, but it felt a lot better than when I do it myself. I liked it. It made me feel like I was at least OK that way.”
“You weren’t afraid?”
Nancy shook her head.
“No, because I knew it wouldn’t go any further.”
I thought about asking Nancy if she’d let me show her there was nothing wrong with her, but I reconsidered after thinking about it for a minute. I’d read once that the biggest erogenous zone is the brain, and if she was convinced she couldn’t have an orgasm from sex, she probably wouldn’t. That would only prove to her that her ex was right.
In the orientation class I took when I started my job, the instructor stressed that trust had to be earned and the best way to earn trust was to take things slow and do a lot of small things for people. I didn’t know if we’d ever be more than we already were, but if she trusted me, we might.
“Nancy, do you like me enough to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Sure. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you.”
“Then let’s do that. I uh… I don’t have a car and I can’t drive anyway. Do you have one or do I need to call a cab?”
“I have my car across the street, but I can’t go out looking like this.”
“Yes you can, because you look great and I was thinking a pizza anyway, not some fancy place.”
Our pizza was pretty good. Talking with Nancy was great. We hadn’t really talked while she was my nurse, but I knew she had to be pretty sharp to get her nursing degree, and she was. We talked about a lot of stuff, what we liked and didn’t like, the stuff you talk about when you’re avoiding talking about more intimate things.
When Nancy drove back in my drive, she shut off the ignition and said, “What do we do now?”
“Well, I figured you’d go home and I’d go to bed.”
“You don’t want to…I thought that’s why you wanted to see me again.”
“Well, I did think about that, but that’s not why. I wanted to see you again because I like you. I’d like to see you tomorrow night too if you’re available.”
“What would we do?”
“We could eat out again, and then maybe take in a movie.”
Nancy said she’d like eating out again, but there were always so many people in a movie theater they kept her from enjoying the movie.
“Couldn’t we just come back here and watch one on TV?”
“Sure, if you’d like that better. If you can drive again, can you come by about six?”
Dinner with Nancy was again great. Watching a movie in my living room was OK. The movie was a comedy and Nancy laughed a lot. I laughed with her, but inside, I was wishing she had a better opinion of herself. She was a smart, pretty woman, but she was letting what one asshole did to her keep her from being the loving woman I was sure lived inside her.
It was our fourth date when I put my arm around her while we sat on my sofa and watched TV. Nancy looked up at me, and when I smiled, she smiled back and leaned into me.
On our fifth date, I kissed her. She just sat there while I did, and when I eased away, she smiled.
“What was that for?”
“It was to show you that I like you. Did you like it?”
“I don’t know. You kind of took me by surprise. Try it again.”
I’m ashamed to say here that when I started all this, it mostly it was because I wanted to show her that she wasn’t cold and that she could be like most other women if she’d just let herself do that. That was my ego telling me I could do that, and it’s embarrassing to remember that now, because of what happened.
After a month, we’d gotten comfortable with each other and she started telling me some of her hopes and dreams. I’d forgotten about “fixing” her, and just liked being with her even though all we did was kiss and cuddle.
Nancy was a wonderful woman and I’d started looking forward to every Saturday and Sunday evening with her. I thought she felt the same way about me. I wasn’t sure of that, but it didn’t take much to get her to snuggle into my arms while we sat on my couch.
It was after dinner one night and while we were sitting on my couch after the movie ended. Nancy was snuggled up to my side and I’d just kissed her. She looked up at me after I pulled away.
“Tim, why haven’t you tried anything with me?”
“I thought I just did when I kissed you.”
“No, I mean why haven’t you tried to make love with me? Is it that you don’t like me enough or is it the other thing?”
“Nancy, it’s neither one. I like you and I like you a lot. I just don’t know if you’re ready for anything more yet, and I don’t want to screw things up if you aren’t. Is that something you’re ready to do?”
Since she’d asked the question, I expected her to say she was, but she didn’t. She looked at me and then frowned.
“I don’t know. I’ve thought about it, but I’m still afraid of what will happen. I’ll have to think about it some more.”
I gave her a little hug.
“Nancy, when you’re ready, I’ll be ready, but I’m not going to try to talk you into anything.”
That was a Saturday night, and before she left, we’d agreed she’d pick up a pizza on the way to my house on Sunday. After the pizza, we’d watch some more TV.
That evening, about six, Nancy knocked on my door. I used my crutches to get to the door and then held it open while she came inside.
“I got one with everything”, she said. “I know you don’t like the peppers, but I’ll pick them off for you.”
She did that, and when we finished eating, she snuggled up beside me and stroked my thigh.
“Tim, remember when I said I had to think some more?”
“Well, I did. If we did it, and I can’t…can’t have an orgasm, will you hate me?”
“Nancy, why would that make me hate you? Sex isn’t everything in life, you know. It’s important because it’s one of the ways people show how they feel about someone, but there are a lot of other ways to do that. I couldn’t ever hate you, no matter what happened. You mean so much more to me than just someone to have sex with.”
Nancy kissed me, and then smiled.
“We could try it and see, I guess.”
I was still wobbly when I tried to stand up, so we were sitting on my bed when Nancy started to take her clothes off. I could tell she was nervous because she couldn’t get the tiny little buttons undone on her blouse. I stopped her from trying, and then unbuttoned them for her. It was harder to get her jeans off, because I was sitting down, but once I got them unbuttoned and unzipped, Nancy raised her hips so I could slide them down her legs.
In her bra and panties, Nancy was sensuous and seductive. After I took off her bra, she was even more sensuous. When I took off her panties and saw the hair I’d felt in the hospital, I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe.
It took me a while to get out of my clothes, but once I had, I pushed her gently down on her back. After she swung her legs up on the bed, I stretched out beside her.
“Nancy, you’re beautiful. Did you know that?”
Her face and chest got a little pinker, but she smiled.
“I’m glad you think so. I always thought I was just OK.”
“Are you still afraid?”
“A little, I guess.”
I cupped Nancy’s left breast and gently squeezed.
“If I’m doing something you don’t like, just tell me and I’ll stop, OK.”
Nancy didn’t answer, I think because I’d just brushed her left nipple with my fingertip. She caught her breath and closed her eyes when I did it again, and the third time I did it, she put her arm around me and pulled my face down to hers.
It wasn’t a tongue-tangling kiss. We’d not done that before. I was just Nancy telling me she liked what I was doing. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t erotic, because it was. I had to reach down and pull my cock up so it wasn’t poking Nancy’s thigh.
Just like at the hospital, Nancy didn’t say anything. Some guys would probably think that was because she wasn’t responding, but I could tell she was. Every time I stroked her breast or touched her nipples, Nancy would sigh softly and I’d feel her hand stroking my back.
She didn’t do anything like moan until I kissed the tips of her nipples and then closed my lips around the right one. She caught her breath when I did, and when I looked up, I saw she had opened her mouth a little.
It’s always been funny to me how different women react. It’s not “ha-ha” funny, but they are different. The first girl I slept with couldn’t keep her mouth shut. She kept saying things like, “do that some more” and “go faster”. Another one just laid there until she came and she caught me by surprise when she did. She was done by the time my cock throbbed and I groaned. Neither was particularly good, for me anyway. I don’t like being told what to do, and I liked to cum at the same time as my partner.
Nancy was a lot different. She didn’t talk, but she didn’t just lay there either. I’d hear a little moan sometimes, but usually it was just a catch in her breath and then a long sigh. Those catches of breath usually meant I’d feel her fingernails on my back, and then the soft stroke of her fingertips when she sighed.
It wasn’t until I slipped one fingertip between her soft, pussy lips she made much of a sound at all, and that was just a quiet little moan. That little moan turned in to more, still not loud, but more often and longer, as I stroked her clit or slipped a finger inside her and stroked it in and out. She didn’t have to tell me she was becoming aroused. The wet and sticky/slippery feeling of her entrance told me that.
When Nancy began lifting her hips a little, I figured it was time. I was a little clumsy when I climbed over her leg and then raised her knees up. She opened her eyes then and I saw fear in them. Instead of probing for her entrance with my cock, I leaned down and kissed her. I was still kissing her when my cock head parted her soft, wet lips. She gasped when I found the right place and pressed my cock in gently. I felt her hands pulling on my back when I pushed in a little more, and then heard her sigh when I pulled back out a little.
The rest was me slowly entering Nancy, just a little at a time, then pulling back and then pushing in again. Each time, she’d catch her breath and then sigh when I slipped my cock back out. When I pushed in all the way, she moaned and I felt her hands slip down to my ass.
After that, it was just me stroking my cock in and out while kissing her or bending down to gently suck her nipples. I wasn’t in a hurry. I wanted to make it the best for her I could.
I didn’t know if that was happening until she started rocking her hips a little. It was then I knew she was on the way. I knew from experience that some women need a little help, and I started to help Nancy.
I slipped my right hand under her hip and worked it up until my index finger felt her little clit. I started gently rubbing beside the little button, and when I did, Nancy moaned again, this time a lot louder. The more I rubbed that little button, the more moans she made and the more she rocked her hips. I started feeling her nails dig into my ass with every stroke, and that was pushing me quickly to the point of no return.
I chanced a fingertip on the little pointed tip, and Nancy arched up high enough my cock went inside her a little deeper. When that happened, she gasped and said the first words I’d heard her say since we started. It was a low, throaty whisper.
“Oh…Oh…Oh, my God.”
A second later, Nancy arched high off the bed and her body started to jerk up and down over my cock. That did it for me. I groaned, pushed my cock as far inside her as it would go, and then felt the first spurt race up my shaft and then fly out the tip. When I pulled back and then pushed in again, Nancy lifted her body up to meet that stroke, and then cried out softly. Her nails dug into my ass when her body jerked again.
I kept stroking my cock in and out after my third shot because Nancy was still rocking her hips and shaking a little. When she stopped that, she pulled me down on top of her and nestled her face between my cheek and shoulder. She breathed hard for a while, and then whispered, “Thank you, Tim.”
I nuzzled her ear lobe.
“I should be thanking you. You were…I don’t know the right word for how that felt.”
“I do”, she whispered. “It felt like I think love must feel like.”
Well, that was five years ago this August. It took us another two months to decide even without the sex, we still wanted to live together. It took Nancy another two to say she’d marry me. When I asked her, she frowned, and said, “I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it some more.”
I waited, not so patiently, for those two months. It was one night after she’d arched into my stroke so high she almost threw me off her, she whispered, “Remember when I said I’d think about it? I have. I guess we could try it.”
I’m still a production supervisor, but I’m a lot happier now. Nancy is still a nurse, but she works during the days now so we have every night together unless one of us has to work overtime for some reason.
She’s also a mother now, and if I had to guess, our second will be on the way soon. I asked her about a daughter to go with our boy last night, and she just smiled.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it some more.”
I’ve learned that when Nancy says she has to think about it, she already has and has made up her mind. She’s just not ready to tell me. That’s fine with me. It’s always worked out so far.