Coda

I burst out giggling as Josh did his best impression of me as the Lady Chablis. He started laughing, too; I could see his pecs hefting up and down beneath the soft fabric of his sweater. I wanted to run my fingers through his slicked-back black hair.

We gazed into one another's eyes. There was an electricity in the air. I could sense his nervousness. It was as if he'd gone from having the upper hand with his deep-cut cultural reference to being the vulnerable one.

"I guess I should get going," he said, looking towards his house.

"Hey," I said, drawing his attention back towards me.

As he turned his head, I reached up with my left hand. I stroked the side of his sharp jawline with the back of my fingers. I leaned forward, pulling my face closer to his mouth. I could tell that he had stopped breathing. I gently and softly kissed him on the full lips that I had been admiring all evening.

I delicately massaged my lips against his. After a few seconds, I could feel the tension releasing from his body. He started to kiss me back in the same tender way that I was kissing him. It only lasted for about ten seconds before I reverted to sitting up straight in the driver's seat.

I could feel the butterflies taking flight in my stomach. Josh's face was plastered with that crooked smile that had first caught my attention. He reached over and took my right hand, placing it between his large mitts.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?" I asked.

"Thank you for not letting me leave without kissing you. It's all I'd been thinking about since I first laid eyes on you last week."

I was at a loss for words. I felt a romantic tenderness that I hadn't experienced in years - a yearning for intimacy with him. At the same time, I wanted to straddle him in the passenger seat and let my tongue explore the warmth of his mouth. Do I contradict myself? Very well then...

Before I had time to react, Josh was letting himself out of the car. He stopped for a moment, looking at me before closing the door.

"I'll see you next Wednesday," he said before shutting it and walking towards his house.

I queued up Longet's version of "The Look of Love" and listened to it as he walked away. I couldn't help but focus on his strong back and muscular ass as he bounded up the steps. I could still taste his sweetness on my lips; I knew that I wanted more.

The next week didn't pass as quickly. On Saturday, I started to feel less steady on my feet. I should have been more mindful and used the cane I'd stuck in the back of my closet shortly after buying it, but I didn't. I ended up taking a tumble while out picking up groceries. Aside from a skinned knee, it was my ego that was bruised the most as two grannies ran over to check on me.

I ended up staying at home the rest of the weekend with my feet up on the couch. I told myself that I thought I'd twisted my ankle. In reality, I was worried that I'd fall again, since walking suddenly felt like it was outside of my skill set.

By Wednesday, my gait had returned to normal. One of the thrilling parts of my illness was the way in which certain symptoms would come and go with little notice. I felt some relief that I wouldn't be tripping over myself at group that night. I wasn't ready for Josh to see me in that light.

I'd been thinking of him almost nonstop since our kiss. I'd even dreamed about it several times. I felt like such a cliché. As soon as I had begun to accept that I was going to die single without ever having experienced love, I'd started to fall for someone. The logical part of my brain wanted to ignore what I felt for him, but I couldn't dismiss the way my heart skipped a beat when I thought of him.

I decided to wear the blue dress shirt that I had spurned the week before; it still looked good on me. I felt distracted as I walked towards the building. I almost didn't see Josh standing beside the door as I approached. My face lit up when I clocked his off-kilter smile; that made him beam even more.

"No cardigan today?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Nope," I said. "Thought I'd mix it up. I guess I'm feeling adventurous."

"Well, look at you, Sir Edmund Hillary," he said with a wink.

He looked good, as always. He was wearing a dapper trench coat and vintage dark-wash blue jeans. Another one of his flattering dress shirts clung to his muscular torso; I could spy it through the opening in his jacket.

"How do you feel about a real adventure?" I asked, feeling emboldened.

Josh looked intrigued; his eyes sparkled with curiosity. He nibbled on his luscious lower lip as he debated how to respond.

"How about we skip this week?" I began. "Just this week. We can go do something together. I remember hearing something recently about the value of being in the present moment for the terminally ill."

"What were you thinking?"

"Maybe dinner? I know a great Indian place not too far away."

"Why don't we go back to my place? I have some nice quality meat I think you'd enjoy."

I had to suppress the laughter busting forth within me; Josh's face turned red. It only took him hearing it aloud to realize how it sounded.

"Filet mignon, that is," he sighed.

"I do love some quality meat," I chided him.

We took my car over to his place. He lived in a standard two-story house; it felt comfortable, rather than something one would see in Better Homes and Gardens. It suited him, though. He'd either paid to have it decorated, or he had decent taste. I'd always appreciated mid-century modern with some personal touches.

We stood in the kitchen making small-talk as Josh pulled various items from the fridge and cupboard. He poured each of us a glass of merlot before turning on some ambient music. It sounded like jazz, although I wasn't an expert in that genre.

Josh peppered me with questions. I talked about growing up as an only child in the Midwest, how I'd squandered my artistic talent by not working hard enough after I got my BFA, and how I felt about my job as an administrative assistant. I tried to gather information about him as well, but he kept redirecting the conversation towards me. I did learn that he didn't have any children, as well as the fact that he loved to visit London each autumn.

Josh was chopping up some vegetables while we continued to talk. I deduced that he was making bruschetta. I wondered if he thought he was hosting a dinner party; eventually, I let myself feel flattered that he was trying to impress me.

Once he had finished, he offered me one. It tasted really good; I wasn't sure why it wouldn't have. Josh didn't seem like the type of guy who'd serve something unless he knew it was a verified palate pleaser. He was telling me about how he missed playing basketball; he'd stopped a week earlier after feeling like his reflexes couldn't keep up with the action of the game.

I found myself feeling pulled towards him as he spoke. I casually slid myself closer to where he was standing; I tried to maneuver next to his body. He clearly realized what I was doing. He draped his left arm across my shoulder and pulled me tight against his frame.

I enjoyed feeling his warmth through his fitted shirt; I let myself really feel his body press into mine with each exhale. It was like a dream, as opposed to the nightmare I'd been experiencing more recently with various hospital visits and countless daily indignities as my body struggled with the demands placed upon it.

"Oh, fuck," Josh grumbled.

I noticed that his hand was shaking; it looked like some form of spasm. The burgundy wine from his glass splashed all over his white dress shirt. Somehow, I'd remained unmarked. The tremor had only lasted for a few seconds. He placed his wine glass on the countertop and turned away from me.

"Well, that was embarrassing," he said. "Every now and then my hands tremor. It's worse when I'm trying to do something that requires a sustained grip, like writing a letter with a pen."

Josh was using a washcloth he'd submerged in water to dab at the wine stain on his shirt. He turned back towards me, shrugging his shoulders.

"Let me help," I said, as I stepped towards him.

"It's okay; I'm..."

I softly shushed him, pushing my index finger gently against his kissable lips. He didn't try to speak again. I took the washcloth from his hand and set it on the counter. I could sense that his breathing was beginning to speed up. I began to unbutton the top of his shirt.

I slowly popped button after button, pausing once a swath of his dark chest hair came into few between his massive pecs. I rubbed it with my fingertips, tracing its circular whirl pattern. His heart was beating rapidly against my skin.

I felt his hot breath colliding with my cheek as I finished with the rest of the buttons on his shirt. It draped open exposing his defined torso and chiseled six pack.

"A Men's Health cover model hidden under a Vogue exterior," I teased.

Josh rolled his eyes; he took a step toward me. A light sparkled in his icy blue irises. He started to kiss me. His lips felt pillowy and inviting; his tongue explored my mouth. My cock began to stir from its resting position.

I pulled the shirt from his body as we made out. Being a good multi-tasker, I continued to tickle his tongue with mine as I took off my own shirt. Once we were both exposed from the waist up, Josh pulled me closer to him. My smooth, lean torso collided with his rippling muscles. His hairy pecs pressed into my collarbone.

My hand reached down and grabbed his package through his jeans. He, too, was clearly getting excited. His cock felt large and meaty, but it was hard to ascertain more than that due to the thick denim. I unfastened the button and pulled down the zipper; I started to stroke him over his cotton boxer briefs. Fuck, that's a monster! I thought, as I began to realize its full potential.

Josh had started rubbing me through my slacks. It felt amazing. I was already at half-mast when he reached for my zipper. His hands began to shake when he tried to open it. He stopped kissing me and pulled away. He tried to tense and release the muscles in his hands, while shaking his head in frustration.

"Hey," I said. "Don't worry about it. One of my many unique skillsets is buttons and zippers. I should probably add that to my resume. I can think of a couple lecherous, grandfather types at my company who would love to know that piece of information about me."

He smirked and shook his head. I could tell that he was still feeling self-conscious. I understood; it sucked to feel at war with one's body.

"Would you do me a favor?" I asked.

"What does this favor entail?"

"Let me undress you. It's not every day I get to hook up with a guy that is as shredded as that Thor actor. Shoot, I shouldn't have said that. No, I'm totally pulling Captain Americas and Batman types all the time. You should totally be jealous."

"You're something else."

"Just let me look at you."

It was partially for him, but it was partially for me too. I did really want to take him all in. I wanted to sharpen the details in the mental snapshot I was taking. Josh lifted his arms, as if to say "Sure, why not."

I stepped towards him and placed a hand firmly on his chest. I caressed it gently; I noticed his small pink nipples hardening when I passed over them. His tuft of hair was soft to the touch. My hand traveled down his torso. I explored the contours of his abs; they felt too good to be true.

I slowly lowered myself to my knees while placing a hand on each of his hips to steady myself.

I wasn't exactly Anna Pavlova with my frequent stumbling, so it was better safe than sorry. I gazed up at him from my kneeling position. He looked like he was blushing.

"Remember, I haven't done anything with a guy in years - before I was married."

"Don't worry, it's just like riding a bicycle -- and, lucky for you, my middle name is Schwinn."

His black boxer briefs were showing through the gap where I'd undone his pants. I reached up and rubbed his bulge; I could feel its warmth through the fabric. It was somewhere between soft and hard.

"I love some good meat," I said, referencing his earlier slip of the tongue, "but let's start with dessert first."

"Dessert first?"

"Turn around and let me see that cake."

Josh impishly spun around for me. His back was insane; his shoulders looked so incredibly broad, then they tapered down to a trim waist. His jeans accentuated his ass. Money well spent!

I reached up and pulled them down; they wanted to hold onto his bulky thighs, so I had to tug at them. Josh laughed a little while I feigned grunts of exhaustion. His peachy ass was jiggling from the movement in his core when it popped free from the jeans. He stepped out of them, and I pushed them aside.

I reached up to feel his thighs; they were thick like tree trunks. I felt like I was worshiping at the temple of some epic Roman warrior. I let my fingers knead into his dense muscles.

I slid my fingertips to the bottom of the hem of his underpants; I began to pull at them slowly. I was practically drooling as I watched inch after inch of his fair, firm ass come into view. It was a strip-tease; I hoped that I was teasing him as much as myself. I imagined his cock being tickled by the cotton as it slid down at a glacial pace. I kept pulling.

Thwack!

I knew what the sound was immediately; I smiled a little, looking at the exposed upper halves of his round globes. My dick sparked with energy; it was rock hard. Fuck it! I thought.

I yanked his underwear down with great haste. His glutes bounced as they rebounded from the motion. I watched them, feeling mesmerized; he had one of those perfect asses. It was large and well-muscled with just enough fat to give it a good jiggle. It curved out behind him into an accentuated bubble shape.

"What was that?" he said with a laugh.

I blushed; I was happy he couldn't see me. I knew he had to know he was hotter than me, but I didn't want to come across as desperate. I didn't respond.

I placed my hands on his smooth cheeks. Josh startled just a bit since he hadn't been expecting my touch right that second. I massaged his ample backside. God, it feels so amazing! I just want to stick my tongue in there! I didn't, though; it would have been too much, too soon.

After a few minutes of playing with his ass, and sneaking a few peeks at his rosebud when I'd parted his cheeks, I decided that I was ready. I was hoping that it had offered him time to recover as well after feeling the sting of not being able to undress me.

"Turn around."

He carefully rotated his body; it felt like time had stopped, not merely slowed down. I was practically holding my breath in anticipation.

"Fuck me gently with a chainsaw!" I gasped. Josh's smile spread even wider as he reveled in my reaction.

I knew he'd been packing, but I couldn't have imagined just how much. His cock was at least nine inches, and probably closer to ten. It was fat enough to require two hands to make the job easier; I knew that just one wouldn't fit around its girthy root. It was wider at the base, but the head wasn't much smaller. Several thick veins traveled the distance of his shaft; they were clearly working hard to pump blood into such a fucking beast!

"Hey, Schwinn," he chuckled. "This is Filet Mignon."

He wasn't wrong. It was a prime cut of meat -- probably the biggest I'd ever seen. I started to reach for it; I already wanted to explore it with the simultaneous goal of sending jolts of pleasure through it.

"Wait a second," he said. "I want to see you undress before we dive into the heavy stuff. I feel like it's only fair, and I haven't been with a man in about twenty years... so humor me a little."

I raised myself to my feet. I didn't hate my body, but I couldn't help but feel inferior standing there in front of him. My frame was lean; I didn't have abs. I had solid muscles, but I just didn't do what was necessary to get rid of the small amount of padding covering them.

I undid my pants; I pushed them and my underwear to my feet in one go. I didn't want to put on a show in the way I'd made him. I just wanted to show him what there was to see.

As I tried to step out of my slacks, I almost tumbled. Josh grabbed me by the elbow to keep me from crashing down. I felt utterly inelegant.

"It's like that scene in Bambi," I mumbled.

"I always thought Bambi was adorable, just like you. Never wanted to fuck him, though, so I guess that's where the comparison diverges."

I finished doffing my clothes, freeing my feet from their entanglement. Josh slid his arm from my elbow to my bicep, giving it a firm squeeze. He looked me up and down. I did the same, gazing upon my hairless chest, flat stomach, and petite waist.

Both of our eyes stopped at my dick. It was jutting out in front of me; at six inches, it wasn't nearly as big as Josh's, but I'd never had any complaints. It had a large mushroom head that added an extra burst of pleasure for the receiver when it slipped past a bottom's tight ring.

"You're so fucking sexy," Josh said.

I felt a tinge of resistance; I'd always been cute or pretty, never sexy. I tried to accept the compliment even though I desperately wanted to make a joke instead. I felt the butterflies in my stomach starting to take flight.

Josh moved even closer; he gently took his left hand and wrapped it around my dick. I heard a small gasp escape my lips as his large mitt enveloped my shaft. He slowly began to explore it. His grasping fist slid up and down its length a few times; more blood flooded to that part of my body. He took his thumb and used it to trace circles around the glans. The kindling in my nerve endings was starting to ignite into a fire.

"I've missed doing this," he said, sounding a little melancholy. "I'm glad it's with you."

Maybe it was the feeling of his hand stroking me, or maybe it was his ability to be so vulnerable, but I felt my connection with him increase tenfold. I pictured us together as a couple doing normal things, like grocery shopping and cuddling on the couch. No, don't do that. Don't get your hopes up. Just enjoy the moment.

Suddenly, I felt Josh's hand spasm. It didn't hurt by any means; it just sent a jolt through my dick. He paused for a moment before removing his hand altogether. I could tell that he was struggling. I didn't want that for him; I didn't want that for us.

"There's something else you probably haven't done in a long time. I'd love to help you get back up to speed."

Josh looked at me in mild confusion. I took my cock in my hand and continued to stroke it while reveling in the majesty of his body. He was truly glorious.

"Fuck, looking at you has got me so hard. How about you get on your knees for me?"

The tension from his shoulders released; he immediately returned to being in the present moment instead of battling whatever thoughts were in his head. He lowered himself before me. It felt so insanely hot watching that giant of a man looking up at me with desire in his eyes.

I stopped stroking; I took a step towards him so my cock was staring him down. I wanted him to do what worked for him. I wanted him to feel in control of his body and enjoy the experience.

Josh scooched forward. He started to bring his hand back to my dick, but paused; he settled on another option. He extended his velvety tongue and began to run it along the length of my shaft. My cock slid against his cheek as he made his way to its base. I felt a warmth in my core - a warmth for him.

He transitioned to focusing on its head. He dragged his tongue around it in circular teasing motions, just as he'd done with his thumb. It felt fantastic. My dick began to leak pre-cum; he lapped it up like it was maple syrup fresh dripping from the tree.