Awake

byBenLong©

The runaway semi-truck reached the intersection just as they did, the bumper coming through the window, breaking her neck instantly, catching the door post and spinning the car nearly in a complete circle so it ended up against the curb on the wrong side of the street as if it had been parked there. From the driver's side, the car looked normal. From the passenger side -- the car was totaled. The truck, the truck driver, as well as her girlfriend who had been driving the car, were totally unhurt - at least physically. Emotionally she was a wreck of course, but physically Debs girlfriend had not even so much as a scratch.

I rolled onto my side in bed, once again sliding my hand into the cold abyss that was her side, but she still wasn't there. I sighed, knowing that my Debs would never again be there -- but it didn't keep me from wishing. As my hand reached for her spot, my nose came against the pillow case and it dawned on me that I hadn't washed the sheets since she died; just another thing that Debs always took care of. There were a lot of things that Debs took care of that I'd been ignoring for weeks.

Sleep was gone; there was no sense in fighting it. I got up, stripped the bed, and put the sheets in the washer. It was practically the first normal thing I'd done since it happened. The kids had come home from college for the funeral, but had to go back soon as for some reason school and life didn't stop. At least they had their school to immerse themselves in; all I had was a painfully empty McDonald's house. Some McDonald's house, I thought to myself, it's got everything but its heart and soul. Now it's more like "Wendy's -- Where's the beef?"

I walked back into the bedroom from putting the sheets in the laundry, stepping into the master bathroom and stopped to look at myself. I looked terrible, being charitable in the appraisement. I hadn't had a haircut in over three months. I wasn't bald yet, but there was definitely a shine on top. I hadn't shaved in nearly three weeks -- why bother? A few wisps of silver were showing on the hairs on my chest, matching the ever increasing amount on the sides of my head.

I thought back to the morning of the day she died. I'd gotten up at my normal time to get ready for work. I'd taken my shower and was standing naked, as I was now, in front of the sink and mirror getting ready to shave. She'd woken and had come up behind me, also naked. Slipping her arms around me, she'd just hugged against me while I shaved and we talked.

"I love hugging you." She said, her hands playing with the hair on my chest. I knew immediately she was feeling amorous, but I ignored her as I continued to shave. Eventually her hands began to stray, finding my nipples and tweaking them.

"That's not exactly hugging," I chided her. "Are you trying to start something?"

"Do you mind?"

"Not really. But if you keep this up, I'll be late for work." One of the benefits of my new position was that I didn't really have to be there at a fixed time, I wouldn't really be late. The matching drawback was that unlike any previous job -- I didn't necessarily get off at a fixed time either.

"Do you mind?" she repeated.

"Do I ever?" I answered.

Her hands slid down to my already half hard cock, caressing it with her hands as her breasts rubbed against my back. "That's not exactly hugging either," I told her, finishing up my shave, removing the last bit of stubble from my chin. She ignored me.

"I think I should shave your back for you. It tickles."

"I think you need to pull those nipples back in so they don't get tickled," I teased back.

I turned around, pulling her to me, kissing her hard while spinning us both around so her back was to the bathroom counter. I lifted slightly until she was sitting on the counter. I pulled away from our kiss, running my mouth down her chest, suckling each breast momentarily before continuing down between her legs.

"I always end up with your hair between my teeth," I told her as I stretched my tongue out flicking her clit with it, "How about you shave your pussy for me?" Her feet braced on the drawers, her legs spread wide, I knelt on the floor between them and proceeded to feast on her pussy and juices until she'd cum, then I rose and slipped into her.

"Oh God, Jim, you feel so good." Her feet came off the board, her legs wrapping around me, trying to pull me into her. The harder she pulled with her legs, the harder I tried to stay out of her, teasing, just the head of my now rock hard cock in the mouth of her pussy.

"Do me," she begged. "Please?"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll go crazy."

"Too late. You're already crazy."

"I'm crazy for you." With that I relented and slipped to the hilt, pumping slowly several times. I stopped, buried deeply in her and thumbed her clit.

"How do you know just exactly what to do?" she asked and moaned a little "Umm" of pleasure, her eyes closed. I stopped, and her eyes opened.

"You're teasing." I grinned, and acted like I was going to pull out and walk away.

"Gotta go, I'm late for work." Her ankles crossed behind my back, forcing me to stay.

"Be late. I want you." I resumed my movements in and out of her dripping pussy.

I sighed. "Oh I suppose, if I must. My lady needs servicing; all she ever wants me for is my cock." I grinned, but she didn't see, her eyes had closed again.

I stopped again, and her eyes reopened. "Well?" I questioned. "How about it, will you shave for me?" She'd shaved once for a few weeks, years before it was the popular thing to do, but she claimed it was too itchy as her pubes began to grow back. She didn't say anything, so I sweetened the pot. "Oral sex, any time, day or night -- all you have to do is ask".

"But you'll give me that anyway." She answered. I began to pull out again, and again her legs tightened around me. "Why should I?" she continued, doing her best to hold me inside her.

"Because you know I'd like it."

"Because you'd like what?"

"Licking you, eating you, making you cum with my tongue," and after a short pause, "and because I asked?"

She stuck her tongue out and grinned. "Ok, but if I do you do. The only way you'll ever eat a naked pussy again is if you do."

"Do what?" I asked, again sliding into her.

"Shave."

I pulled away from the counter taking Debs with me, still impaled on my cock, and walked her to the bed where I unhooked her legs from around me, doubling her over and put her legs over my shoulders. Leaning against the underside of her legs, I began to pump in and out.

"Shave...what?" I managed to grunt out.

"Every... thing. Your chest... your back... Oh... legs... Ahhh, God... your arms," she said, her hands gripping my arms to urge me deeper and harder into her as we both approached orgasm; "your cock."

"It's...a....deal," I answered. She arched her back, forcing her clit into my motions, and moments later we came together.

~

I ran a bowl of hot water, lathered up and grabbed my razor. Not even thinking about the fact that it hadn't been used in weeks, I started with my neck, and immediately took a huge nick. Blood mixed with the soap, turning red, running down my neck. I splashed water on my face to remove the soap, but the blood returned immediately. Looking in the mirror, blood running down my neck, onto my chest, I thought "Why bother?" and suddenly found myself with tears running from my eyes. The more I tried to control myself, the harder I cried. Sinking to the floor, my head in my hands, I sobbed uncontrollably over the loss of my beloved wife.

I'd held myself together for weeks. Our neighbors and friends, at first, bringing dinner by, stopping in, asking about me, had given me something concrete to hold onto. But of course that inevitably slacked off. Now all I got was an occasional phone call asking how I was doing, the sum total of all the interaction I was having with the non-working world in those phone calls. I really wasn't getting along fine of course; the real answer was "Miserable." But I always answered with an "Oh Fine; it's taken some getting used to, but I'm getting along."

I was, however, merely surviving.

I don't know how long I sat there feeling sorry for myself, mixing tears and blood on my chest; feeling alone in the world after over twenty years of sharing everything with someone, someone special. Suddenly Samson licked me in the face, neck, and chest; cleaning the bloody hair on my chest with his tongue. I pushed him away at first, just as I'd been pushing everything away for the last few months. Finally relenting, I pulled him to me, sobbing now on his neck while holding my arms tightly around him. That's the good thing about a dog, no matter how upset you are, they still love you.

When I finally controlled my sobbing I felt totally spent, and surprisingly relaxed and clear headed for the first time in weeks. I took a wash cloth and cleaned the now mostly dried blood from my face, replaced the old razor blade with a new one and proceeded to shave my face. Afterwards my chin, with the exception of a rather large piece of toilet paper affixed to a nick that still oozed, was clean. Above it an unkempt mop still taunted me.

I opened what had been her drawer, and found her electric razor. I plugged it in and turned it on, standing and looking for just a moment deciding whether I really wanted to do this or not, then just began shaving. I started at the front of my head, shaved myself bald and continued right on down. My chest, my arms, my cock and balls and right on down my legs. Everything I could reach I shaved clean. Afterward, I took my regular razor and did myself again until I was totally hairless and smooth everywhere except my back, my armpits and my eyebrows.

Standing in front of the mirror, I barely recognized myself. I looked years younger. No more wisps of grey taunting me to remind me that 50 was just around the corner. Once again I had the same hairless chest that I'd had as a young teen. The cock and balls that also hadn't been hairless since before I was a teen -- now looked somehow larger, even in a flaccid state. As I moved, the air seemed to caress my naked scalp, my skin, my cock. It was as if I'd opened myself to the world, and the world caressed me in return. Remembering the warm pool water, I suddenly had the urge to go swimming.

I slipped into the silent pool, the waterfall having automatically turned off for the night several hours before. The bright moon, now directly overhead, lit the pool; I could see a few leaves and a dirty bottom from where I'd been ignoring regular maintenance activities. They weren't going to hurt me tonight -- I let them be, slipping underwater and pushing off from the wall.

The rush of water across my naked head was a sensual explosion. Water rushed past my ears, along my belly and legs, across my cock and balls. I felt tingly everywhere, the water, unfiltered by hair, seeming to wrap around me like a glove. I reveled in the sensation, rolled over into a back float and closed my eyes. Arms raised high to the sides to keep my leaden feet from dragging my body upright in the water, I drifted until my head, almost imperceptibly, touched the side. Opening my eyes, I found the sky vaguely lightening, the moon still bright but not so much the celestial spot light as before. Realizing I'd almost fallen asleep - or perhaps I had -- I went back into the bedroom and crawled onto the naked bed, pulling just the blanket over me and for the first time in weeks fell sound asleep.

It was after noon when I awoke again, this time because I'd become too hot and sweaty under the covers with the increasing temperature of the day. Something about my now mostly hairless body, sweating from the heat of the day, and the smell of blanket that should have been changed weeks before pushed me into action. I took the blanket and put it into the washer, moving the now wet sheets and pillow cases into the dryer. Opening the door to the pool area, I ignored my nakedness in the totally private yard and stepped outside.

Walking up to the pool, I realized it was in much worse condition than I'd been able to ascertain in the pale moonlight at 3 am. The automatic pool sweeper was clogged with leaves, algae was beginning to appear on the pool sides. I pulled out the test kit and checked the chemistry, added acid as needed to bring the PH back into balance, and cleaned the skimmer. I added algaecide and turned the chlorinator on high. Starting the filter pump, I could tell from the pressure that the filter also needed cleaning so I began backwashing the filter. Finally I got the steel brush out and began working my way around the pool, scrubbing the sides, returning the pool to its normally pristine state. With the pool now clean and appealing in the sunlight and me now even hotter from the active work I'd done, I put the tools down and climbed into the pool myself to cool down before putting everything away and heading back indoors.

Pushing off underwater, I swam from one end to the other before surfacing and swimming back, doing a surface crawl. I climbed out using the stairs at the far end, sweeping the excess water from my skin with my hands before turning around and immediately coming to a standstill -- shocked at finding my neighbor Janet standing in the walkway between me and the house, watching me.

She had a pitcher of iced tea in one hand, two glasses in the other, a bag draped over her arm. Now standing facing her, nude, without so much as a towel to cover myself -- there was nothing that I could do, except to ignore the fact that I was nude, which is exactly what I did.

"Hello Janet. Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone," I said, in so doing acknowledging that my nudity was perhaps a bit unusual.

"It's my fault, I should have called."

"It's ok; I'm not bothered if you're not." I saw her eyes dip to my crotch, my now hairless crotch, as I approached.

"Debs told me that you guys liked to swim naked; if I'd thought about it I'd have just called first." She held up the pitcher and glasses a bit higher, "I thought I'd stop by and see how you were doing. Would you like some iced tea?"

"Sure, that sounds nice," I said stepping onto the concrete patio beside her, "I'd better grab some pants."

"Oh that's ok, it doesn't bother me any... I mean...," I glanced over at her, and saw her eyes rising again from my crotch to my face, a blush coloring her cheeks. So that's what a woman feels like having a man looking at her breasts rather than her face, popped into my mind. I almost ignored her statement, feeling it was more of a nicety than a statement that she meant, but something about the moment made me pause. My eyes caught hers, she knew I'd caught her sizing me up, and she flushed.

"Ok, as long as you don't mind."

The patio table was just in the sun, I moved it into the shade, pulled a chair over for Janet, and then stepped into the laundry room for a towel. Stepping back out, I pulled another chair into the shade near Janet, spread the towel on the chair and sat down myself. "This is nice," I said, taking a glass and lifting it in a toast. "To what do I attribute this act of kindness?"

"Just being friendly, I made some tea up and thought you might like sharing a glass, and thought maybe I could bribe you into letting me borrow the pool for a swim?"

"Well, I don't think you can borrow it, your bag's just a little too small to carry it -- but you're more than welcome to go for a swim." I grinned, and she poured a glass of tea for both of us.

"I haven't seen you in quite a while."

I nodded and took a sip of my tea. "I haven't felt like going out much the last couple of months." She nodded; we didn't say anything for a few moments."

"So how are you doing?"

It's the same first question that I'd heard from everyone for weeks. For the person that I'm greeting for the first time in ages it's an attempt to find out my mental state and what is happening to me. For me, the person living through the nightmare, it's just another rerun on the skipping record that had been my life for several months. I started answering as I always did, I told her all about the insurance hassles, having taken a leave of absence from work, and how it seemed like everyone in the world had been by the first few weeks.

"Yes, of course, but how are you doing?

I just sat for a minute, and then it all began spilling out. How I'd had so many visitors that I hadn't had time to really accept what had happened, that it was just the last few days that I'd finally begun to really understand what it meant to be alone; how I'd finally had time to think about the future together that would never happen, how our future grandkids would never get to know their grandmother. Unspoken was that I'd finally begun to grieve.

She just let me talk. When the glass ran dry she poured us another glass while I went in and brought out some more ice. I watched her eyes flick down my body, up to my head and then back to my eyes as I approached.

"You look good bald," she said as I sat back into my chair. "How long has that been?"

"Not long," I answered, looking at my watch. "9 or 10 hours."

"Since, uh, early this morning?" She paused, doing the math in her head. "What was it, like 3 am?" I nodded.

"You got up at 3 am and shaved your head? What in the world caused you to do that?'

I just looked at her for a moment. Did I just make up some story -- or tell her the truth? I decided that the truth was easier. "Debs asked me to."

"Huh? I don't understand."

It actually wasn't hard telling her about it. I told the whole thing; how it was the morning that she died, making love, teasing and yet complaining at the same time that I often ended up with a pubic hair in my mouth, how the one period that she'd shaved had been so nice for oral sex, how she'd said she would if I would. "The dog woke me up and had to go out and I just couldn't go back to sleep. I saw myself in the mirror, hadn't shaved in weeks, and once I started, I just kept going."

"It looks good, you look good without hair," she said, and then stopped -- realizing what she'd said and blushed.

I nodded, acknowledging both her compliment and her embarrassment. "It's amazing swimming, I felt the water where I've never noticed it before. It's like the water caresses you everywhere, whereas before, there was hair everywhere filtering the experience." I emptied the glass of tea, glanced across at Janet's, finding it almost empty also. "Time for a swim, or more tea?"

"I'd really like a swim. I was doing some gardening this morning, and it got so hot, I thought a swim sounded really good."

"The water's perfect," I said, standing up and reaching down for my towel. "Let's go."

I turned and stepped up the walkway towards the shallow end of the pool, Janet following behind. "You needed help with your back, didn't you?" She said as I reached the bench to put my towel down. "If you've got a razor I can clean that up for you."

"What's that?" I asked, futilely attempting to turn my head over my shoulder to look at my own back.

"Right here," she answered, stepping up behind and drawing a circle with her finger, touching the very center of my back, where I hadn't been able to shave the hair off.

"Ok, thanks. We'll get it later," I answered stepping into the pool. I turned into a back float, watching Janet as she peeled her top and shorts off, revealing a flowered bikini. Dropping her clothes on the bench, she turned and stepped down into the pool.

"What, not going skinny dipping with me?" She glanced up and smiled wryly at me in response.

"Maybe some afternoon when you're not here," she answered.

"What's the fun in that?" I teased. She ignored me.

We swam around for several minutes, gradually working back to the steps where we ended up sitting neck deep while we sat and talked. It wasn't long before I found myself reiterating everything that had happened, and everything that hadn't, since the accident. When she started standing up and said she really needed to get back, her nursing assistant needed a break, I couldn't help but ask, "What do you need a nursing assistant for?"

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