Mercies

Khali reached under her top and gently took Chris's hand that, at that moment, was pleasantly squeezing her full, left breast. "Chris? It's time," she said gently. But he didn't hear her.

Chris was in another place. A place where the beautiful brown skinned anesthesiologist was lying on her back in a wonderfully soft bed with her legs spread and he lay on his belly between them. He could smell the jasmine scent of her skin and the aroma of salty, sweet musk. Her sex glistened in front of him, swollen, slick, inviting. Droplets of her moisture lay nestled in her fine, curly black pubic hair and shined like jewels. He bent his head down as if to drink from her. He heard her sigh, then moan and felt her body rise as his lips and tongue touched her most delicate flesh.

"Let's get a mask on him and hyperventilate him," Khali told the nurse anesthetist that had come up from surgery to help. Khali continued to hold his hand, stroking it gently while Michelson gloved up, a nurse opened the surgical pack and the RT prepared the vent.

"Uh, Katy, let's have 4 of Versed and then I'll give him succs and Brevital. I think J.T. probably wants him down fairly deep to start." She turned back to Chris, touching his face around the oxygen mask. "Come on Chris, we're getting ready to do this," she said louder but still reassuringly.

In Chris's mind he had just sampled the delightful nectar of Khali's sex and was moving up her body by fingertips, lips and tongue. His nose rested in her shiny, blissfully fragrant black pubic hair for a moment before looking up her body, across the undulating plain of her belly, past the jewel she wore in her navel toward the gentle rise of her full breasts. He smiled and cocked his head so that he could see exactly how close his fingertips were in relationship to the skin of Khali's belly and down across her hip. His calculation made, he slowly, maddeningly drew his fingertips across the slight rise of her belly and down to the gentle valley between her hip and her sex. He reveled in the feel of her skin, her scent, her taste and the sounds of her quiet pleasure.

"Katy, give me a 100 of Lidocaine. He's starting to throw PVC's. Rita, you set on the vent? He's a big guy, you might need to adjust tidal volume."

"Way ahead of you."

"I'm ready to cut whenever you're ready to induce," Michelson told Khali.

"His SAT is stable for a moment while we hyperventilate. I'd like to have him a bit more conscious before I take him down. Is J.T. still in O.R.? Chris, can you hear me?"

Chris held himself above Khali, his cock resting on her shiny black sex hairs. They smiled at each other. He palmed one of her breasts, slowly, gently and then drew his fingers around her large chocolate brown areola, playfully pulling her nipple. He slid his hips back slightly so that his cock was now nestled inside her sex lips and poised to enter her sex. He lowered himself to her. They were, lightly, belly-to-belly, chest to breast. He softly kissed her lips and then took her mouth. She looked into his eyes and with a smile said, "Please take your pleasure in me, my lover." He entered her, reveling in the incredible slickness and wet warmth of her sex as he slowly took her, the smell of jasmine flooding his nostrils and the taste of cinnamon(?) on his lips.

"Chris? Come on, babe? Chris, you with us?"

Their lovemaking was slow and gentle. The feel of skin against skin was almost an unbearable pleasure in itself. He felt the urgency in her hips, heard her sounds of delight. They were both close to coming.

"Please, Chris..."

Chris opened his eyes and the visage of J.T. Monroe filled his sight. "It's time. We've got to intubate you. Don't be afraid, I'm here."

Chris smiled under the oxygen mask and closed his eyes again.

Khali had her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his hips. They were coming...

"Versed and succs are on board. Inducing with 40 of Brevital," Khali intoned.

"About bloody time," Michelson said, irritated.

Chris felt as if he were falling backwards into a warm, comforting, black velvet blanket.

And so Christopher Dunn's hospitalization began.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dunn was in the hospital for four months, all but three weeks of that time in the ICU hooked to a ventilator, paralyzed from the neck down. For a good percentage of the time he was heavily sedated and remembered very little of the agonizing ordeal. He nearly died four times: twice from irritation of his heart, once from an infection in the catheter that gave him nutrition and once from pneumonia.

J.T. visited him everyday though she was only one of six other doctors caring for him. She started to arrange her surgery and rounds so that she could bathe him in the mornings. In fact, whenever she had a free moment she was there with him. Talking to him, softly, gently encouraging him even though she knew he would not remember most of her visits. Where the nerves were not hyper raw and his skin not hypersensitive she would touch him.

Like two years prior with her patient Brian Jenkins, she was the only one in the hospital that did not know she was hopelessly in love with him. Consequently, no one made jokes; they treated them as husband and wife.

Clifford Bryce, J.T.'s nemesis and fellow neurosurgeon, opined after Dunn was dismissed to rehab that he thought J.T.'s loving attention might have been what ultimately saved Dunn or at least mitigated the ravages of the disease.

Rehab lasted three months and in some respects was only slightly better than his four months in the hospital. When he graduated inpatient rehab he was sent home to continue on an outpatient basis. But with no family he had nowhere to go. J.T. offered him her house to continue his outpatient rehab. They moved in together though they slept in separate bedrooms.

~~~~~~~~~~

J.T. knocked on Chris's bedroom door one night. Chris didn't respond so J.T. opened the door slightly, "Chris?"

Chris was sleeping partially under the covers, on his side, his back to the door. There was a book in his hand and his reading glasses were askew. J.T. hesitated for a moment and then sat down on the side of the bed. She put her hand on his shoulder and spoke his name again softly. He awoke with a start.

"Hey, hey, it's me. It' okay."

"Mmmm, I dozed off. Sorry," he said as he brushed sleep from his eyes.

"That's okay. I, uh, I was going to turn in early and just wanted to check and see if you needed anything."

"Uh...I'm okay, thanks. I may get up and watch a little TV. I'm feeling kind of restless."

"Okay. Why don't you let me bring you something for your nerves?"

"You're the doctor," he said with a smile.

"That's right, I am. Be right back."

J.T. came back with a pill and a tumbler of water, dressed only in a tee shirt that barely covered her sex and ass. She sat down on the bed and handed him the pill and water.

"Uh, Chris, how long have we known each other?" She smiled nervously and there was an edge in her voice.

"I don't know, uh, seven, eight years, why?"

She got a pained expression on her face and then just blurted it out, "Chris are you gay?" And she pulled her tee shirt off and sat nude next to him.

Chris had his mouth open. There was a long silence between them. She starred into his eyes, chewing her bottom lip and he starred at her. He was not looking into her eyes.

"Uh, J.T., well, gee, no, I'm not. Why do ask?"

"Well, damnit! I'm told I'm a good-looking woman, we're both single, we're living together and, well, uh, damn it, you haven't hit on me! I'm feeling a little awkward. Ohhhh hell!" Tears were welling in her eyes and she started to put her tee shirt back on, fumbling with it awkwardly in her embarrassment, when he caught her arm.

"Whoa! I, uh, I'm just a little intimidated I guess. You are a good-looking woman. My god in heaven! You're beautiful. I, on the other hand, am rather average..."

"You look good to me. Of course I haven't had another human being touch me since that foursome..."

"...Oh, well thanks..."

"Chris!" She pounded her fists on top of her thighs.

Chris threw back the covers and pulled his briefs to the side allowing his erection to spring out and lay against his belly. He grabbed her by the shoulders and, with a groan in the effort, pulled her across his body and over onto her back. He quickly rolled on top of her, pinning her by her wrists. She gave a little scream and then a moan as she felt him penetrate her, his briefs riding against her clit. "Oh, dear God," she murmured as she reveled in the fullness in her cunt and his skin against her belly and breasts. She bucked her hips to rub against him. The she noticed he wasn't moving.

"Chris?" She ran her hand over his forehead and it was wet with sweat. He was breathing hard.

"Sorry, J.T., I'm...I'm...not quite up to leading I don't think."

"Oh, oh. Chris, Jesus, I'm so sorry." Slowly she pushed him over, off of her. She closed her eyes and silently groaned as she felt him slide out of her.

He lay on his back now, still short of breath - but still erect. She lay on her side, a look of concern on her face. She started to say she was sorry again but he cut her off.

"J.T., am I still erect?"

J.T. looked at his erection, bouncing slightly with his heartbeat. "Yes."

"You need a fucking engraved invitation?"

"But..."

"I'm just weak for chrissake! I want you! Come on!"

She looked at him, at his throbbing erection sticking out from his briefs; she grabbed his erection in one hand and swung her leg over him. As easily as he had entered her she sat down on him, impaling herself. Both of them gasped simultaneously at the pleasure of the mounting.

J.T. blinked several times, put her hands gently on his chest and looked down at him. She tentatively rocked her hips. He moaned and arched to try to get deeper inside her.

He reached up and cupped her full breasts, thumbing her nipples slowly. He trailed his fingertips down underneath her full breasts, down across the gentle swell of her belly, across her hips and back up to her breasts via the sensitive skin over her breastbone. Now it was her turn to moan.

"Take your pleasure, J.T. I want to watch." He smiled up at her. She leaned down to kiss him gently on the forehead and then sat back, perpendicular to his body, to begin to strive for her first orgasm in over two years.

She had a good rhythm going. She looked down at him, eyes wide, sweat forming on her forehead, her chewing her lower lip in intense concentration. "Play with my breasts," she whispered. He was only too happy to oblige.

He felt the first small contractions of her orgasm. Her eyes seemed to widen even more than they already were and she ran her hands through her hair then dropped down over Chris with her hands on his arms. She rocked her hips one last time then held her body very still. He felt the contractions ripple through her sex and leaned up to lightly kiss her. She lowered herself onto him all the way and kissed him deeply then laid her head on his shoulder.

Moments later she felt him shudder and then heard him sob. She lifted herself and looked at him with concern. "Christ! Are you okay, Chris? I didn't hurt you did I?"

He smiled through his tears. "Oh, J.T., you saved me. This has all been hell on earth for me. Being in the ICU, being in rehab. Now to see your beauty and to have you laying on me - it's like I've gone to heaven."

She slowly slid off him and lay on her side, her thigh covering one of his. She kissed him gently, wiped a tear from his cheek. "I can't even begin to explain it, J.T. The horror of it all but you were there the whole time. Even when I was zoned I could sense you there. You didn't have to."

"Neither did you," she said softly. "You didn't have to keep me from shooting myself. You didn't have to keep it a secret. You didn't have to fight to get me the chairmanship of Neuro. But you did. Hey, bucko, one good turn deserves another, right?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I suppose."

"Let me make you feel better. Don't think about the horror. Think of me." She rolled over and turned out the nightstand light then, in the darkness, she moved down his body slowly, taking him in her mouth. His orgasm came quickly. J.T. wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and slid up beside him, laying her head on his shoulder. They didn't speak. J.T. slowly played with his chest hair.

Chris broke the silence. "Hey, J.T.?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

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