Love and Sex Ch. 02

My wife immediately began bobbing her lips up and down the entire length. I was impressed with her technique. When I married her, she was a virgin and inexperienced. She had kissed a handful of boys, and her last boyfriend had enjoyed a few handjobs intended to keep him from going further. I'd had the pleasure of teaching her everything I had learned from my roommate. I loved her enthusiasm as we worked to hone her skills. My once virginal bride was now my loving sex goddess.

I watched the video as it showed me opening my eyes. I laughed at the palpable joy I exhibited when I realized Cathy had awakened me by sucking my cock. I heard myself whimper when she stopped.

I began stroking my cock as I watched my naked wife straddle my hips in the video. I remembered the pleasure I felt when her tight vagina slid down my hard cock with one quick movement. I remembered feeling like I was in heaven. My hand began stroking my erection faster as I watched my wife begin to ride my cock. I felt like a voyeur observing another couple making love. It reminded me of all the times I had watched my roommate fucking some oversexed blond bimbo. My sexy wife was hotter than any of John's conquests.

I saw my wife and I react when John loudly snored as he rolled onto his back. After a couple of moments, my wife leaned over and pressed her hot, sweaty body against mine. She whispered in my ear. I had to strain to hear her words in the recording.

"Its ok, sweetheart. Your friend is deep asleep. Just relax. I'll do all the work."

I watched myself turn my head and look at John. His eyes were closed, and he was softly snoring. Somewhere in the middle of the night, he had kicked the sheet off, exposing his naked body. Even half-erect, his cock was enormous.

I focused on the image of my gorgeous wife recorded in high definition. Her naked body was glistening with sweat. I heard the bedsprings singing softly as she slowly rolled her hips. I could see my hard cock moving less than an inch back and forth between her engorged pussy lips. Her generous breasts were gently undulating with the slow fuck.

I saw my hands reaching for my wife's sex. My fingers cupped her mons and stroked the small blond triangle of her curly pubic hairs. My wife jump from the intense, unexpected stimulation of my fingers brushing across her protruding clit. She let out a soft cry that sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room. I watched us both freeze. John stopped snoring. Even now, my heart was pounding. I saw myself staring at the big black man for any sign he was aware of our clandestine activities. I heard myself breathe a sigh of relief when he rolled over on his side, facing away from us.

When Cathy resumed her hip rolls, they were even more subtle than before. I realized she was giving me the minimum stimulation to keep me erect. She patiently waited until my friend resumed snoring before picking up her pace. My loving wife leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"Sweetheart, don't worry about me. Let me give you my anniversary present. All I want in return is a baby. Relax and go with the flow."

When she sat back up, she pulled my hands to her breasts. The clown who said all you need is a handful was an idiot. I've had sex partners who were nearly as flat as pancakes, one's who would put a cow to shame, and everything in between. I've enjoyed fucking every one of them. Size doesn't matter as much as what's between a woman's ears.

However, Cathy's breasts were the best I've ever seen, felt, or tasted. Now, I'm a reasonably large man with big hands, but my wife's pert breasts were more than a handful. I was content to play with her soft breasts while she did all the work. I remember making a silent promise to give her multiple orgasms the next time we made love.

I didn't last long. It had been some time since I'd had sex, and that had been a week ago with my right hand in the shower. It had been much longer since I'd had sex with my wife. For over a month, I'd done little else other than work in the hospital and sleep. After I finished shooting my sperm seven inches deep in my wife's fertile womb, she leaned over and kissed me. She was asleep by the time my cock slid out of her. I held her for a few minutes until my fitness tracker vibrated, telling me it was time to get up.

After I carefully crawled out of bed, I pulled the sheet over my naked wife. I covered my friend's bare body while I was at it. I decided to shave at the hospital so I wouldn't have to turn on the bathroom light and noisy fan. I dressed quickly and quietly. By the time I was ready to go, John had gotten too hot and kicked the sheet off the end of the bed. I left the two people I loved more than anything in the world, sleeping stark-naked on their sides, facing away from each other. With any luck, my young wife would get a few more hours of sleep before her double shift started in twelve hours.

The video file ended moments after I left for work. I rewound the video and watched my gorgeous wife ride my cock again. I had a feeling I would be watching this fantastic video over and over for the rest of my life. I stroked my erection until I came hard a second time.

The third time I watched the video, I noticed movement in the shadows obscuring John's crotch. The bastard wasn't asleep. He was slowly stroking his big black cock while he listened to my wife make love to me just a couple of feet away. He had more restraint than I'd had that night. I don't know how he managed it, but he quit masturbating before he came. I hope he enjoyed a case of blue balls for once in his life. I fell asleep with the laptop resting on my stomach.

#

I awoke to my alarm. My day off was over. I was so relaxed that I barely made it to the hospital on time. I was surprised when the wild-eyed young administrator said the next patients to be intubated were in the ER. All of the coronavirus wards were full. The ER was a madhouse. It made the ICU look like a peaceful Buddhist monastery. They'd expanded the ER to include an adjacent wing of the hospital. It was challenging to locate the patients my team had been assigned among the crowded rooms and hallways.

The nurse and I were on our sixth or seventh patient when disaster struck. I'd had patients regurgitate before when I worked a tube down their throat, but I'd never had one projectile vomit. My face was six inches from their mouth when they let loose. My Tyvek protective suit was covered. I was frightened when I smelled the foul liquid dripping down my face shield. The helmet was supposed to be completely sealed with a portable air supply. I knew there was a leak somewhere in the recycled outfit.

I had to stop and aspirate the patient to prevent them from choking to death before cleaning myself. The rest of the day was only slightly better.

It was three or four days later when I noticed my shift felt more relaxed. I thought it was because of the new volunteers. After I cleaned up, I checked the hospital records. They contained a glimmer of hope. The number of intubations performed in the hospital that day hadn't gone up as much as I expected. The number of admissions had even dropped slightly.

As I was about to leave, I was told the hospital administrator wanted to see me. She said a new policy was in effect. I was required to spend my downtime at a nearby hotel reserved for health care workers. It didn't surprise me. My wife had been staying at a hotel near her hospital for the past week. I was surprised it had taken my hospital so long to adopt the practice. I have to admit that I would enjoy the extra sleep thanks to saving on travel time.

When I got to the hotel, I checked in and laid down as soon as I got to my stark dingy room, which made Motel 8 look luxurious. I couldn't complain too much. The lumpy hotel bed was far better than the old sofa bed I shared with my wife. I scanned my text messages and responded to a short one from Cathy before falling asleep.

A couple of days later, I awoke with chills and a slight headache. I felt exhausted, but what was new? My temperature registered as 99.4, which was a little high but close enough to normal. I took some Tylenol and headed to work. A guard took my temperature at the employee entrance of the hospital and waved me through. I got my assignment from the same young woman I'd gotten to know over the last week. As usual, she gave me a recap of yesterday's noontime briefing by the governor. I certainly didn't have the luxury of watching it live.

She said, "Governor Cuomo announced the latest report from the epidemiologists showed the number of new cases in the city is still plateaued. They hope to see a decline soon. Maybe we'll see a permanent reduction in intubations in a couple of weeks. Stay safe."

A new nurse who'd come from Upstate New York joined my team. I appreciated her youth and enthusiasm, but I had to train her on the job. I couldn't believe the number of patients I was assigned to intubate. It seemed we had a spike in critical patients, and several of the new volunteers had contracted the virus. Thank God, California had shut down their state early and was able to send New York City a hundred functioning ventilators.

I felt exhausted and had to drag myself from patient to patient. After a couple of hours, I sat down for a moment and cradled my head in my arms. My headache was excruciating, and my body ached. I think I dozed off. The nurse shook me awake. When I looked up at her, she was pointing an IR thermometer at my forehead.

"Doctor, you're done here. You have a temperature of 102.8."

I was taken to a hotel used to quarantine infected hospital staff. I think I managed to text my wife before crawling into bed. I slept for twelve hours. When I woke up, it felt like someone was sitting on my chest. I managed to use the bathroom and wash down some Tylenol with a big glass of water. I checked my phone for text messages. A doctor at the hospital asked me to send him my vital statistics every eight hours. I reported my temperature was 103.1. My blood pressure was 120/75. My resting pulse rate was 64, which was a bit higher than my usual 52. My oxygen level had dropped to 93%.

Cathy had also texted a concerned, sympathetic message. She gave me her schedule so we could video chat, but warned me it was pure fiction. My wife reported she was working fourteen-hour shifts.

The next time I woke up, I was confused. It took me some time to realize I'd been asleep for sixteen hours. The weight on my chest had increased, and I had a dry cough. I was breathing hard but didn't feel like I was short of breath. My temperature was still high at 102.4, but what worried me was my pulse oxygen level had dropped to 72%. I texted the doctor. I tried to call my wife, but it went to voice mail. I left a message in a raspy voice. It was hard getting to the bathroom, but even harder, getting back into bed.

I was awakened by a pair of EMTs who loaded me onto a stretcher. They drove without lights flashing to the COVID-19 ward at the hospital. I was given oxygen and hooked up to fluids. I was in the hospital for a week. The nurse said I was within 5% of the blood oxygen level that would have gotten me ventilated.

Hospital beds were at a premium. After I recovered enough to be discharged, I was sent back to yet another hotel for my required fourteen-day quarantine in case I was still infectious. I slept most of the time. Cathy visited me the first chance her schedule allowed. I was concerned about infecting her, but she said an antibody test indicated that she'd already had a mild case.

It was strange how most people never showed any symptoms. Maybe that's why some people felt coronavirus was a hoax. If you knew someone who had the disease, it was very likely they had a mild case. Less than fifteen percent had a severe case. Another five percent required critical care. Unfortunately, a lot of non-symptomatic cases were running around spreading the disease.

Cathy laid next to me on the bed and held me tight while she sobbed.

"Oh, God, I was afraid you were going to die. They wouldn't let me in your room when I visited, but I could see you through a window. You were asleep every time I came. A kind nurse showed me your chart. You were very sick. I was so scared."

"I had some crazy fever dreams. I got frightened when your great uncle Walter visited me in one. He was standing on a dirt path on the shore of the lake where he performed our wedding ceremony. I felt at peace, watching the reflections of puffy white clouds in the still waters of the deep blue lake. He told me it wasn't my time to take the Path of Souls."

My story set Cathy crying again. After a few minutes of body wracking sobs, she explained her sorrow, between heavy sobs.

"My great uncle Walter caught the virus. They didn't have enough ventilators, so he insisted they give the one free unit they had to a young man. My uncle died three days ago. I talked on the phone with my mother. People came out of quarantine to hold a ceremony. Most of the Ojibwe and a crowd from Bemidji attended. I wanted to be there, but I couldn't leave you or the hospital. It was right at the time you were sickest."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I liked Walter despite his horrible vision. God damn this fucking virus. The survivors are all going to be mindless zombies by the time this is over."

"Oh, God, Paul, I forgot about his vision. Didn't he say his future ended soon after the invisible enemy reaches full strength? The CDC thinks we may have hit the peak in coronavirus deaths three or four days ago."

I tried to remember the old midi's prophecy. He'd foretold three things: the pandemic itself, the time of his death, and one other threat. It took me a minute to recall he had warned me about a dark monster.

"In the dream, Walter warned me again. He said you and I were under attack from the dark beast. Your great uncle cautioned me that if I wanted to avoid the destruction of my soul, I needed to bend in the wind and cling to my bedrock. After relaying his vision, he turned and strode up a path leading over a heavily forested ridge. He waved just before he disappeared into the sunset."

Since I had no idea what the danger was, I knew I had no choice but to hold on to my loving wife until the menace passed.

We held each other and talked until I fell asleep. When I awoke, my wife was gone. The next time she came, she brought Chinese take out and my laptop. I barely remembered asking for my PC. She had somehow managed to track down my computer that had been left behind in another hotel when I became ill.

My brain wasn't in any better condition than my body. I'd lost twenty-two pounds and felt tired and weak. I wondered how many IQ points I'd lost. I fell asleep in Cathy's arms once again. God, it felt awesome to hold her.

#

When I finally opened my laptop, I found a ton of emails waiting. I spent a couple of days answering the ones from family and friends. I video chatted with my small family as well as Cathy's enormous clan.

I was weak as a kitten, but finally, I had just enough energy to be bored. My days were filled with sleep, reading, TV, and physical therapy. I had begun my prescribed activities once I was released from the hospital, and I spent more time each day pacing my hotel room. I had some low resistance rubber exercise bands that proved to be a more significant challenge than they should have. The hardest activity was blowing into an incentive spirometry device to strengthen my lungs. Each day I fought to raise the colored balls higher.

The highlights of my week were short visits from my wife. We held each other on the bed and chatted for as long as her busy schedule allowed.

After several days of dreary isolation, Cathy mentioned that John's article on New York City's coronavirus health care workers had been published in the Times. Her comments reminded me of John's secret videos. Perhaps, I should have told her at that point about what I had seen, but I couldn't figure out how to bring it up without embarrassing her.

I tried to log into the folder he'd shared, but it seems he'd discovered his mistake and completely blocked me from his cloud service. I tried what few tricks I knew but gave up in frustration.

I must have fallen asleep at that point because it had been dark outside when I'd tried to access the files. I got out of bed to use the bathroom. I checked the hallway and found room service had left me dinner. There is nothing as wonderful as cold pasta when you're starving. When I put the dirty dishes back in the hallway, I suddenly remembered trying to download John's folder to my laptop. I guess all my befuddled brain needed was a little food.

I smiled when I found the massive folder in my downloads. I would have cried if I'd lost the video of my sweet wife riding my cock. Of course, I had to go through the same process as before to figure out the damn password. My diminished brain capacity was becoming annoying. At least this time, I knew to look in the subfolder of photos. Good old Winston, how I missed that cantankerous old tomcat. I pulled up the video of my wife playing cowgirl and enjoyed it even more than the last time. I guess staring death in the eye makes you appreciate life more. Watching my beautiful wife straddle my hips and slowly fuck me while John was awake facing the camera and stroking his cock made for an exciting video. I fell asleep after jacking off for the first time since I fell ill. It was exhausting work.

#

I watched the video of my wife riding my erection again when I woke up. My cock wasn't used to all the activity, and I had to quit when it got sore. It was a couple of days later, before I watched the next video in the sequence for the first time. Nothing much was happening in our overheated apartment after I left. Someone had kicked off the sheet I had pulled over John and my wife. Both of them were lying on their backs stark naked. John's clothes were in the dryer as part of our decontamination procedure. My wife had taken hers off to give me my anniversary present. The contrast between John's muscular burnt mahogany body and my wife's pale athletic figure was worthy of an art gallery photograph.

As part of my sex education, I'd watched John fucking his numerous white conquests dozens of times when we were roommates. Never in a million years would I have imagined seeing him naked in bed with my equally naked and loving wife. I wasn't worried for a moment. I trusted both of them.

I wondered what had triggered the motion sensor on John's big iPhone. He had positioned his tripod-mounted phone on a box above his side of the second-hand queen sofa bed. I had helped him find an outlet so he could charge it. Of course, he had set it up to record video when it detected the slightest movement. With daylight pouring through the thin blinds, there was more than enough light to record 4K high definition video. The quality was outstanding.

The timestamp indicated it was nearly four hours after I'd left for work. Jean had been in bed for close to eleven hours. Except for the short period when we were fucking, she had been sleeping the sleep of the dead. A bottle of wine after weeks of endless hours in the coronavirus ward had left her drained. My wife appeared to be lying motionless. I had no idea what triggered the camera to start recording.

I was jealous of her long sleep, but I knew it had come at a stiff price. She had traded her regular shift with another nurse so she could celebrate our anniversary together. In another eight hours, she would have to work back to back fourteen-hour shifts. I loved my wife for her loving gift. That night had been the first time we'd had sex in a month. It was pure luck that our anniversary coincided with the peak of her fertility. I had to admire Cathy's determination to start a family in the middle of a horrendous pandemic. Depending on how you looked at it, making a baby at that time was either life-affirming or outright lunacy.