Jennie - The Prequal

"That's bullshit and you know it." She was mad and Jennie rarely showed her mad side. "Something is going on with you; you're different than you used to be," she stated as the accusation. Moving on to the evidence, she offered "You couldn't sit still in the movie for more than two freakin' minutes!" "Are you on some drug or something Jaime?" Did you run to the bathroom to give yourself a fix?" she added. Jaime, what the-fuck is going on?" she added pleadingly, and accusingly, at the same time.

"Nothing... no, that's not it," I countered. "I'm not on any drugs, I mean, not like any real drugs anyway," I stammered. "I just take these pills for the pain in my legs, that's all," I babbled, hoping she'd understand. "I got them from the doctor". "I have a prescription," I continued explaining, while hoping to make the issue go away. Jennie, however, was now like a dog with a bone, and she was not going to let this go, without a full understanding of the situation.

"What pain in your legs? And what pills are you taking? And how long has this been going on?" she continued to question?

Fuck... I thought to myself.

Thankfully, the waitress arrived with our drinks, putting the interrogation into recess, and allowing me time to gather my thoughts. At that moment, I didn't feel as if I was doing anything wrong but knew in my heart that my life was spiraling out of control. I also knew that Jennie was about to make me face that reality head-on. I'm not sure why really, but up to that moment I've kept my little leg problem (and resulting lifestyle issues) a secret from almost everyone, but it was becoming painfully obvious tonight that the prosecutor in Jennie was going to find out the source, and depth of the problem.

"OK, explain to me what is going on with you without too much B.S.," she demanded.

"It's fairly simple," I started. "According to the doctor, I have a pretty big problem in my lower back. My L-4, and L-5 discs, which separate my lower vertebrae, are seriously bulging out, and pinching my sciatic nerve, which runs down my legs. That pinching creates a constant, and pretty serious burning sensation in my legs. So, to relieve that pain, I can do either one of three things; lay down flat on my back full time, which is not an option; remain in constant motion so that the pinch is continually changing locations, or I can take a lot of anti-inflammatory pain medication to make it all temporarily go away. The only other option is surgery, which my doctor advises is risky, and a big deal, and that I should wait until things get so bad the surgery becomes the only alternative," I concluded feeling quite satisfied with my explanation.

"So mostly I take the pills, and move around a lot, and look forward to getting home each night so I can lie down and rid myself of the pain. And that's it," I concluded. "No big deal, I've just got to work through it, that's all," I rationalized.

"WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING-INSANE?" she said while exploding. How long has this been going on?" she asked?

"Almost two years" I replied.

"Two fucking-years; you are fucking-insane!" she said exploding again. "What pills are you taking?"

"Butazolidin", I sheepishly replied.

"Butazolidin?" she said while screaming. "That's a fucking pill they use to tranquilize horses," she added while still screaming. "Did your doctor give you those?" she asked.

"Yes," I answered, suddenly feeling like a child. "I was taking some other stuff, but over time the other stuff stopped working," I confessed to her. "Only the Butz., kept on working," I added.

"Well, what did your doctor say about that," she asked?

"He said that when we came to the end of our medication options, I'd have to consider getting the surgery. He always warned me that the surgery was a big deal, so I should put it off for as long as possible; as long as I could control the pain with the medication," I told her. "Obviously, control is fading on me, so it's got me a little worried," I admitted.

"Jamie, why didn't you tell me any of this before?" she asked suddenly, and a little more sympathetically. "I don't know," I stammered, "I thought I had it under control until lately," I offered. "I guess I didn't want to act like a whining pussy," I added.

"A WHINING PUSSY?" she screamed again as a question. "Jaime, you've got a problem that can be fixed, and you're making your life a fucking mess by trying to deal with it." You quit the college baseball team, you quit going to college, and you quit on me," she hollered. "All things you loved, Jamie! That's not you, and none of it made any sense to me, until now," she reasoned. "Jaime, you've got to make an appointment with your doctor and tell him all the problems you're having," she demanded. "I'm certain he'll recommend moving forward with the surgery because you are well past the point of controlling the problem, or near anything else in your life. Call him Monday morning, OK," she finished, "Call him".

"OK, OK," I told her. "I'll call him," I promised.

Now that the big, fat, elephant in the room was identified, the rest of the night was a lot more enjoyable. And truth be told, the rest of the evening reminded me of the beautiful relationship we once had. I ate most of the pizza, we drank a little, laughed a lot, and talked of current events, family, friends, and the upcoming Christmas holiday. It turned out to be a great night, and I think both of us felt a whole lot more comfortable with the other, by the end of the evening.

As we walked the steps to her house holding hands, it occurred to me that I really did love this woman, and hoped she still felt the same towards me. "Wanna go down to the basement and neck like old times?" I proposed.

Optimistically she responded, "I do, really I do. I could use some of that Polish sausage," she joked. "But neither of my parents are asleep yet. Can I get a rain check?" she asked.

"Yes, any time," I confirmed.

With that, we hugged, and kissed, and held each other for more than a few minutes, before finally saying our goodnights, and departing. But the magic seemed to be back, and I was so grateful. I think Jennie felt it too. I hoped Jennie felt it too!

That following Monday, I was miraculously able to secure an appointment with my orthopedic surgeon before Christmas. I explained the status of my condition, and my self-medicating program, and the doctor whole-heartedly agreed with Jennie, that it was time to plan the surgery. Interestingly, he also admitted that Jennie was right, and that Butazolidin is an anti-inflammatory medication used mainly for tranquilizing horses. But what was most interesting though, was that his original prescription was supposed to be short-term, only for the original 30 pills, and only for emergency pain management. He had no idea that for the last six-months I was getting the prescription re-filled twice a month and eating those horse-pills like candy.

I needed a few tests in advance of the surgery to precisely locate and diagnose the current status of my disc issues. Surgery was scheduled for Feb. 5^th, and I was nervous. Nothing about the surgery sounded good to me. Five hours of anesthesia, a six-inch cut across my lower back, chipping bones off my hip to pack into the voided area where the discs would be removed, and likely a six month recovery period. But I went ahead with it because I was desperate to rid myself of the constant pain and a return to the life I once knew.

Ultimately, I had the surgery, and it all went near perfect! But for a very long, and arduous recovery period, and a major case of constipation leading to a very funny story about the nurses treating me with a milk and molasses enema, resulting in my shit smelling like a candy store, I was on the road to recovery and couldn't be happier. Aaaahhhh... pain free for the first time in years!

"How is the patient?" Jennie snarkily asked as she strolled into my hospital room. "It's all good," I honestly reported. "But for the pain when I move, laugh, or sneeze, I feel great," I added. And it really was all good! Three days after surgery, I had no sign of the horrendous leg pain, although I hadn't gotten out of bed yet either. I did have pain from the incision when I moved too much, and a little discomfort from the aforementioned constipation issue, but I did feel as if my body had been repaired and I was optimistic that a full recovery was in my future.

"So, what's the plan for the next few days?" Jennie asked.

"Tomorrow, I am scheduled to get out of bed," I told her. "A big first step. The nurses are a little worried, because after being in bed for so long, there is a tendency to get dizzy and pass-out when my body gets vertical. They are very worried they're going to have to catch my 225 lb. ass as it's falling-down," I joked. "But I feel good and I'm very ready to take that next step."

"Can I do anything to make you more comfortable?" Jennie asked.

"No, I'm about as comfortable as I can be given the circumstances," I responded. But her offer got me thinking, so I decided to share some additional good news with her. "I must be getting better though," I whispered, "because my dick has been twitching and trying to harden up a little bit in the last day or so," I proudly shared with her.

"It has?" she questioned. "Well then, if I can't do anything to help you at the moment, I know I can help make your dick a little more comfortable in these trying times," she said softly while giggling. With that, she snaked her hand under my little hospital gown and gently began a little finger-rub of my member.

"Oh, that definitely helps," I admitted. "My dick did not realize how uncomfortable it had become and is very happy you offered to help," I added.

"Ha ha," Jennie giggled again. "If there is one certainty in the world, it's that every man can be made a little more comfortable if you play with his penis," she proclaimed. "And if I can get away with it here in this busy hospital, I intend to make you very comfortable before I leave."

God, I love a girl with commitment!

So, I decided to lay back and let Jennie do her comforting thing. It was truly a surreal moment, and I think, the specific moment where I fully committed to loving this woman for the rest of my life. Ten o'clock in the morning, in the post-surgical ward of any busy hospital, is an action-packed place. In my room alone there were various bells and beepers monitoring my every bodily function, and outside my room was the usual rush of orderlies, nurses, doctors, visitors, janitors, etc. A busy place to be sure, but Jennie was not deterred.

It did not take long before my dick was rock hard, and Jennie was doing the full up-down thing under my gown. "Do you have any skin cream in your bag of supplies," she softly asked.

"I do" was my somewhat pre-occupied response. I reached over to my bag of hospital supplies and fished out the cream which I handed to her. Jennie, took the cream, and then put a big splash of it on her hands, rubbing them together to warm it up before putting it to use. She then reached back under the sheets to apply the warm cream to my very hard-dick, and it felt fucking-wonderful.

"Oh Jennie, that feels so fucking good", I commented as my body transitioned into my favorite oxymoronic state, full-tension-relaxed.

"Just lay back and don't move Jamie; I'll do all the moving," Jennie ordered.

It was very difficult to keep my hips still as the pace of her hand quickened. "Oh Jennie, I love you Jennie, oh fuck me Jennie," I softly moaned and pleaded as Jennie went about her work. And Jennie just smiled her pleasant smile, while continuing the slow, and stealth ministrations under my hospital gown, in the middle of a very busy hospital.

"Jen, I'm gonna cum soon Jen, I'm gonna cum," I tensely whispered in warning to Jennie.

Softly as she could, Jennie replied "Cum for me Jaime. Cum for me now Jaime. Cum for us Jamie," she demanded softly, but with a touch of loving desperation in her voice. And as she continued the slow jerking of my cock, she pulled up the hospital gown to expose my swollen and purple penis, allowing us both to watch the explosion. CUM FOR ME NOW JAIME, CUM NOW MY LOVE," was her final plea to me before I exploded.

"OH JENNIE, I LOVE YOU JEN" were my last words as my load blasted out of my cock.

As I came, I used my arms to brace myself on the bed rails, because as good as the cumming felt, any movement of my body still hurt. Jennie, for her part, had her hand locked on my cock, still gently jerking my dick until the spasms completely stopped, and I could stand no-more.

"Oh Jennie, that was wonderful my love, Thank-you," I gratefully stated.

"I Love you Jaime," was her reply, as we both sat still for few minutes catching our breath and hoping that maybe this was the moment that cemented out future together.

Sadly, while the circumstances above are mostly factual, that red light meeting on Bissington Ave. never happened. Jennie and Jaime never reconnected, and spent the next thirty-five years apart, with virtually no contact between them. They each lived a mostly prosperous and happy life apart.

But as the two lovers approach their sixth decade, the curtain is about to rise on our second act. Stay tuned.