Dear Dirty Diary Ch. 07

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Unforseen Surprises
3.4k words
3.83
22.5k
1

Part 8 of the 20 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 10/31/2005
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Dear Dirty Diary,

Doug's birthday began exactly as I anticipated. The hype and advertising for the Stanley Cup had been increasing for days and he was primed for Sunday's game. I was reminiscing about New Years day's events. Memories of lust and desire, excitement and disappointment began to fill my mind. I took stock of the year's activities and found myself amazed at the depravity I had experienced in these few short months. Being Sunday morning, I decided to repent and come to grips with my sins. I tried my best all morning to ignore all of my nagging clit's pleas for attention by putting all my energy into my turkey dinner. At supper Doug ate and ate with gusto, not slowing down until he devoured a second big slice of chocolate cake.

The game played on but after about half an hour of fast moving action, he got out of his chair, stretched and said he needed to get a little exercise. He said he still felt stuffed and could use a little fresh air. I was finishing off the dishes about ten minutes later when the phone rang. It was Doug. He said he was next door in our condo's indoor swimming pool and asked me to bring some towels. I went next door as he asked but when I got to there, a sign saying "Closed for Maintenance", hung on the doorknob. I turned the knob and the door opened but when I went into the pool complex, it was in darkness except for the underwater lights.

"Lock the door, we've got the whole thing to ourselves!" echoed Doug's voice from the deep end of the pool. I clicked the lock as he said and strolled down to where he was treading water. "Come on in, the water's fine!" he beckoned.

I pointed out that I had no bathing suit to wear and he said, "Are you to old to have a skinny dip with your husband or just plain chicken?"

I looked down at him in the shimmering blue water, saw his white abdomen, his pubic hair and a little pink protuberance and considered the dare. I whipped off my clothes and jumped into the water. We laughed and splashed and carried on like we were twenty again. When I jumped up and dunked his head under, he swam around behind me. He dove down, put his head between my legs and hoisted me up out of the water on his shoulders. I giggled as he bounced me up and down. I shrieked when he grabbed my feet and flipped me backwards into the warm water. No sooner than I got my hair out of my eyes, he flipped me again. I hadn't had so much fun with him in years. On the third hoist and flip, he bounced me up and down mercilessly. My poor breasts heaved up and then slapped down wetly against my ribs with each bounce.

Between my excitement with our pool frolic and the air being cooler than the water, my nipples grew hugely erect and I suddenly started to shiver. My jaw shook, my teeth chattered and I was covered with goose bumps from head to toe. When Doug finally flipped me off his shoulders, I told him I was cold and needed to warm up in the hot tub. I got out of the pool, flipped off the cover and started up the Jacuzzi jets. The water was pretty hot when I climbed in so I immersed myself very gradually.

I heard Doug grunt as he climbed out of the pool so I turned around to see what he was up to. I kneeled on a seat just in time to see the huge splash of the silly fool's cannon ball coming at me. I ducked down to avoid the cool splash and that's when a Jacuzzi nozzle's bubbly stream found my bare pussy! It blasted me only for a second but it "had me at hello". I moved in closer to the nozzle and spread my legs so that the jet hit me just right. Knowing Doug was unaware of what I was doing, I settled in for a little private pleasure. I lowered my breasts gradually into the foaming turbulent hot water. It became quite clear to me that life just couldn't get any better than this. There I was, naked in a hot tub, enjoying a Jacuzzi jet pummel my clitoris while tiny bubbles tickled the undersides of my breasts.

Doug climbed out of the pool and cannon balled a few more times but after the last one, he just stood quietly in the shallow end. His face was ashen so I figured he was cold. I told him to get into the hot tub with me and warm up. He slowly climbed up the pool's ladder and when he turned toward me, I snickered and catcalled out, "Shrinkage or what there, Fat Boy!"

With an anxious look on his face, he climbed up and into the hot tub. I grabbed hold of his cold shriveled-up little penis and dragged him by it over to my jet. I had to rub and stroke it a lot more than normal to get him hard. I convinced him to kneel on the seat like I had been doing then pulled his penis down so the jet's spray pulsed against his corona. I shamelessly squeezed and stroked him but his anxiety persisted.

In spite of the heat, his face was still gray and when I felt his forehead, it was cold and sweaty. His eyes seemed to have lost much of their color and had that look of fear I'd noticed of late whenever we made love. When I asked him if he was all right, he stammered out, "I can't get my breath and my left arm is numb."

My mother-in-law watched in helpless horror as Doug's father died in her arms of a heart attack eleven years ago. After that happened, I made it my business to learn exactly what to do. There was no way I was going to let Doug slip away without a fight! The adrenalin rushed through my whole body as I dragged him out of the hot tub. I sat him down on the floor, raised his head up with our clothes and then phoned 911. I gave them directions to the side door of the pool, covered Doug with towels and then yanked my dress down over my wet body. I grabbed my keys, reefed open our door and sprinted upstairs to the bathroom. I grabbed some aspirins and scampered back down to the pool as fast as I could.

Thank God he was still conscious so I could get him to crunch up and swallow two aspirins. I propped the side door open with my shoe, then knelt down to console him. He looked so worried as I mopped his cold, clammy brow. Doug started to shiver from the cool draft coming through the door so I lay down on the floor beside him to protect him from the cold.

"Squeeze my dick, Darlin', It's cold and I'm awful scared." He whispered as his eyelids closed slowly. As I gave him a good rub his eyelids would flutter but then close as soon as I slowed. In spite of playing with him his breathing grew slower and gentler and his penis began to shrivel. I gave it another good wiggle to keep him awake but his eyes were glazed over!!!

Tears of terror flooded into my eyes as I screamed, "Don't you dare die on me now you son of a bitch!" into his face!

Panicking, I straddled Doug, flattened one hand on top of the other on his chest and thumped as hard as I could! His eyes popped open in a startle after about 30 seconds of frenzied CPR and he complained, "I just had the strangest little dream where I was looking into a dark spooky cave. There were haloed images all around its entrance and when I went inside I was looking at the sparkly little embers on the walls. Then the next thing I know, here you are on top of me, pounding the crap out of me!"

I undid my bodice's top buttons, flopped my warm breasts out onto his chest and started stroking his penis once more to keep him awake. He slid his shaky hand between my legs and up under my dress. The fool wasn't happy until he got his cool hand up and groped my pussy.

"The pains have been increasing since before Christmas and I wouldn't admit to them because I knew I was dying, but now I'm ready." he said in a strangely contented voice and closed his eyes.

"Like hell you are!" I answered and wiggled his penis around to keep him awake. His eyes popped open for a second, then closed again. I flopped his penis around again and quickly realized he'd stay awake as long as I continued.

After a couple minutes of constant wiggling, his penis began to warm and started to grow. At that exact second, I heard a clattering outside and felt a blast of cool air as the ambulance attendants crashed their gurney through the door. I scrambled backwards to the wall to get out of their way and watched their every move.

One opened up their medical kit, while the other checked Doug's breathing. That second paramedic strapped an oxygen mask on Doug's face, while the first examined my husband. He pulled the towel off Doug's chest, shaved a bunch of spots and stuck little round adhesive electrodes on his chest and ankles. The other paramedic briefly lifted the lower towel, saw Doug's half-erect penis and wryly muttered, "Seems to have a good enough pulse!"

The other looked down, smiled and said, "Sure enough!" and then began to hook up the jumble of wires coming from a portable ECG unit. He fired the machine up, punched in some codes and away it went, spewing out a long paper tape of squiggly lines and blips. I was so scared that I just sat cross-legged and petrified there on the floor. The paramedic stared at the tape for a moment, then turned to me and asked me exactly what happened.

As he wrote out his report, I related to him of how Doug got all pale and sweaty after swimming on a full stomach. As I told him that Doug was shivering with a cold sweat in the hot tub, his eyes wandered up and down between his pad and me. As I rambled on about how I got him out of the hot tub and covered him up, he nudged his partner and nodded toward me for some reason. That guy blushed a little, kneeled down in front of me and fiddled with some equipment on the floor as I told them how I fed him aspirins and did my best to keep him warm.

The fellow writing told me Doug was stabilized now but they were taking him to the Special Care Unit to have some more tests done. When I thanked them for saving my husband, the younger fellow smiled and said, "The pleasure's been all ours."

The first paramedic whacked him and now they both blushed as they packed their gear. For the first time since they'd arrived, I looked down and saw that my breasts were almost completely out of my bodice! I buttoned up quickly and then realized my skirts were hiked up my thighs and my legs were spread wide apart! I finally realized that they'd undoubtedly seen all the way up to China. Then I remembered that "China" had no underwear on, was shaved bald as a baby's bottom and was brandishing that shiny gold clit ring!

The paramedics collapsed their gurney, lifted Doug onto it and then sprung it back up. They wrapped him snuggly in blankets and then loaded up their equipment. The older fellow talked to the dispatcher on his radio and then informed me they were admitting Doug at the hospital immediately and suggested I follow in my car. The younger paramedic handed me the clothes I'd stuffed under Doug, smiled knowingly and suggested that I change into something dry and warm or I might catch a cold on this cool spring night. I thanked him graciously then blushed vividly when I saw he'd carefully placed my bra and panties on the top of the pile. They crashed the gurney back out through the side door and were gone off into the night with my husband!!!

I went back to my apartment, changed into a demure-looking outfit then drove over to the hospital. As I walked through the Emergency Department doors, I met the paramedics leaving the hospital.

The older gentleman smiled, stopped and said to me, "Relax, you did well." He patted me on the shoulder and continued, "Getting those aspirins into him probably saved him from a lot of damage and you should be proud of yourself."

He told me Doug would be pretty drowsy but he'd know I was there. When I finally got through all the red tape and was escorted to his bed, I just about cried. He was hooked up to beeping monitors, intravenous bags, an oxygen mask and even a little gizmo clamped to his finger. Every few minutes an automatic blood pressure monitor would whir and buzz. When I squeezed his hand, his eyes fluttered and opened briefly. He looked up at me drowsily, squeezed my hand back and then drifted back to sleep again.

I stood there by the bed and just watched him breathe. His face and hands were pale and he looked so fragile that I was afraid to disturb him again. After a few minutes, a doctor carrying a chart came in and introduced himself. He explained that my husband had probably suffered a minor heart attack but it would take a couple of hours for enzyme tests to confirm his diagnosis. He assured me that Doug was in the finest of care and urged me not to worry. Easy for him to say! The doctor told me to go home and relax so Doug's heart could rest.

Once back at home I really tried to keep my anxieties under control. I'd been trying my very best not to obsess over Louise's lengthy absence. Her mother had become gravely ill in early May. She passed away on Mother's Day but Louise stayed on to straighten up her mother's affairs and see about her inheritance. I hadn't heard from her in five days and I needed her so much. I couldn't stand it any longer and phoned Quebec. I told her about Doug, told her I loved her and missed her and she promised she'd be back soon. She said she had a couple of details to look into concerning her mother's house and reminded me to water her plants.

Ten minutes after I hung up, I started to cry. I'd never felt so alone in all my life. The kids were supportive but there was no way they could mend my breaking heart. I went next door to Louise's looking for some comfort in her bedroom. All I found in there were shadowy memories of our lusty games. I tried to console myself with the gold vibrator but guilt and worry over Doug made it difficult to find pleasure with her fabulous toy. I searched through her erotic book drawer and found the big white briefs I gave her for our Elvis romp. Determined to find comfort somehow, I took her panties back home.

Back in my lonely apartment, I picked up the shirt Doug was wearing in the pool and sniffed it. It still carried his scent and I felt compelled to have it close to me. I stripped off all my clothes and put on his big cotton shirt. I immediately felt that at least a part of him was there with me so it also seemed logical to seek out a part of Louise as well. I picked up and sniffed her panties. I convinced myself that the yellow stain on their crotch still retained a faint but perceptible essence of her. I reminded myself it was my actions that put that dried up patch right there.

It came to me that if a drink of hot water and rye whisky plus my own hot lemon juice were shaken together, it might make that stale honey come alive again and flow into a Hot Toddy to lessen my misery. I pulled on Louise's starchy panties, mixed up a mug of hot water, a shot of liquor and a teaspoon of sugar then climbed into my bed.

My cure for loneliness worked just fine. I downed the booze and three minutes of buzzing away with my little hand vibrator melted our pussy juices together into a slippery goop that saturated the whole crotch of Louise's panties. My initial orgasm came while I concentrated on the safe and secure manly scent of Doug's shirt. After a few minutes' recovery, a faster, stronger round of vibrations pushed Louise's creamy juices up into me. The thought of our fluids reuniting so homogeneously made me feel ever so complete. I slid my hand down inside the hot nylon panties and shoved in three fingers to check the progress of my recipe. Her creamy honey and my hot lemon pussy juice had mixed so perfectly in my pink little mug, that only a few more seconds of clit buzzing sent me into a second shuddering orgasm. .

Doug's cardiologist called me the following morning, informed me his enzymes were indeed elevated, confirming he'd had a heart attack. Anxiety and tearful conclusions clouded my drive to the hospital. Doug was still quite pale and lethargic. I was told that the clot busters, blood thinners and blood pressure medications would cool him right down for a couple of months. I was told that a nuclear Thallium scan was necessary today to determine the extent of Doug's heart damage.

The following day I rode by ambulance up to the City for an Angiogram. After the 45-minute procedure took 90 minutes, I was beside myself with worry, especially after that doctor showed me images of the two 90% blockages! He explained how they'd ballooned down the cholesterol lumps and installed two Stents to strengthen Doug's weakened arteries. On the positive side, he concluded that my husband could avoid imminent Bi-Pass surgery if he abandoned his unhealthy lifestyle.

In less than twenty-four hours, I was forced through a crash course in heart disease and was then left to pick up the pieces of my life. Two more gut-wrenching days of tests showed that damage to his heart muscle was minimal, thank God. The following day, the life-style changes were explained to us. Low fat diets, rest, life-long medications, careful exercise and reduced stress were understandable but no sex for three months. How could I ever survive that?

The day before Doug was to be released, I thought my salvation had been found. Louise was back. I spoke of pasts and futures and situations to be dealt with but Louise seemed oddly quiet. When I finally exhausted all of my concerns, she softly dropped a bomb on me.

She told me, "I sold my Mother's house and have purchased an enchanting old house east of Cornwall on the Quebec side of the St. Lawrence River." Louise continued, "Every time I went home I passed by it and toyed with the idea of making it into a Bed and Breakfast, to get away from the madness of the GTA."

I swear my heart stopped for a moment, then crumbled a little more. She told me there was plenty of room for my husband and me and showed me a bunch of drawings she'd had prepared by an architect. My head was spinning, I was jumping to all kinds of conclusions and all I could see was that my life was in ruins.

Louise listed her condo with a realtor the following week. The following day, Doug's boss called me. The prick informed me that Head Office at the Motors wasn't prepared to take chances on Doug's delicate condition and was pensioning him off as soon as his recovery period was over!

Perfect! A hot lover lost to another province and a cool husband disabled by inherited heart disease! Is this how clinical depression starts?

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3 Comments
26thNC26thNCover 2 years ago

Diary of a whore.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 18 years ago
Where's the mischief gone?

The sweet imagery sprinkled over this bitter pill doesn't make it any easier to swallow. Reality checks are never erotic, only disturbing!

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 18 years ago
Loving Wife?

It's all about me...what a self-centered woman! Her husband just had a heart attack, for goodness sake! This is NO loving wife. Disgusted.

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