My Life with Serena

I mean whenever we were together she was always wet and ready. Even better, other guys started hitting on her, but she just blew them off. She only had eyes for me. I mean like wow! Me!

That wasn't completely true. I found out she had an almost compulsive love of children. There was an occasion when we went to a friend's party. It was a daytime affair in his backyard out on the lawn near a large in ground pool. Serena had on a knee length white pleated skirt and a light blue, almost translucent blouse I'd picked out for her that perfectly matched her eyes. I enjoyed watching the other men at the party as they discreetly watched her breasts undulate back and forth beneath the soft almost silken material. There were seven or eight little children about. Serena went inside and found a large white bed sheet. She spread it on the lawn and sat down. Pretty soon she was surrounded by the children. She was like this fairy princess amidst sea of admirers.

Yes, she adored me, but children were, by far her first love. That afternoon was a warm and pleasurable experience for me.

While I continued my residency, Serena and I experienced the most idyllic times any two people could enjoy. We went everywhere together. We were inseparable. Her grades had been horrible, but with my help I got her on the right track, pretty soon she was on the Dean's List.

At first getting Serena to study was kind of hard. For one thing she didn't know how to study. I had to show her that. Then she wouldn't try if I wasn't there, and since I spent so much time at the hospital she missed some early opportunities to get some good grades. In my naiveté figured she was confused about how to prepare for tests and such. I fixed that. I set up a little table and chair in my hospital office. While I did my rounds or did my paperwork and when she wasn't actually in classes she was right there with me, studying.

Pretty soon I noticed another thing about Serena. Wherever we went, no matter who we were with she found ways to touch me. If we sat at a table she'd hold my hand or slide her chair around so our hips touched. She liked to rest her head on my shoulder, or, if she could, get her arms around my waist.

If we were in a booth it was the same thing. If we were in a booth and sat opposite each other I could rely on feeling one of her feet slide up between my legs so she could massage my dick with her toes. Sometimes when we were in a booth side by side she'd pull down my zipper and play with my penis. Once when we were in a darkened restaurant she went even further, she unzipped me and went down and started kissing and sucking me off.

I had to teach her how to treat me down between my legs. I showed her some moves on her puss too. I didn't especially want her to just suck me off. I liked it best when she kissed me on my head or got me inside her mouth and just held it there while her tongue kind of tried to twirl round me. I liked the tongue thing up and down my shaft too. One thing was for sure, anything I said I liked she said she liked too.

I found her G-spot, and I got her to tell me how she liked me to nibble on her clitoris. She particularly liked it when I licked up and down between her outer labia so I did a lot of that. I mean I wanted to feel good, but I wanted it even more for her. I'd get my mouth inside her outer labia and suck her inner lips in my mouth. Then I'd go after her G-spot. Man the G-spot thing was sensational; it's amazing how two fingers vigorously at work in a vagina can cause such a wild response. I never believed it before, but women can ejaculate, I mean like squirt! I don't know who was more excited the first time she did that; her or me.

When we were in my bed, if I rolled over on my back so we weren't spooning or in an embrace I could count on a hand slowly sliding over my legs to my crotch. She'd slowly start to gently touch my penis till it got hard again. That always meant another round of love making. Funny about the love making; if I got even a little rough she'd stiffen up, it always had to be soft slow and gentle. That was all right with me; I like that kind of loving.

There was another thing about her touching too. If we were with other people, women always, if another woman got too close or touched me Serena always seemed to find a way push the other woman away or come between me and the other female. She was becoming quite possessive.

Once we were at a party at a married couple's house. We were all in the living room. I think there were five couples, and the chairs and stuff were scattered all around. Well I found a comfortable easy chair and plopped down in it. We all started talking politics or some such stupid thing, and I noticed Serena was on the other side of the room on a wooden chair. There was a pretty married woman sitting in a similar wooden chair next to me. I wasn't flirting or anything, and the woman's husband was right there so she wasn't flirting either, but we were certainly talking and having a good time.

I looked over and Serena had this stricken look on her face; her discomfort was palpable. I paid it no mind, but pretty soon Serena found an excuse to cross the room and sit on the floor next to me. Pretty soon her floor sitting put her right between my legs, and a few minutes after that she was in my lap. I didn't think about it at the time, but she was staking her claim to me.

I did think about that party a couple days later when one of my friends, another resident who'd been at the party stopped by my office while Serena was in class. His name was Beau Fredericks.

Beau came in and sat down, "Well," he said, "How's life with Serena Mertzel?"

I replied, "Pretty good."

He grinned, "You know she has a past."'

I figured this was jealousy talking so I answered, "We all do."

He kept his shitfaced grin on and tapped the side of his head, and said, "You don't know her like some of us do."

He pissed me off, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He pushed back from his side of my desk, "Oh nothing, except that she's led a pretty protected life."

Now I was angry, "Good thing she's with me cause that way she'll stay protected."

He stood up and smiled, "Good for you Travis," and he walked out.

Hell he hadn't told me anything I hadn't already figured. Sure she'd been sheltered. I felt proud that I could keep her safe and loved. Yet he meant something else too, and I didn't want to know what that was.

There were some other things about Serena I worked on. Her hair had been a problem for me. I went to work on that. I got real good at hair brushing. She loved it, and I did too.

Her makeup was troublesome. I was making a little money, not a lot, but enough. I got Serena hooked up with a young woman at a beauty salon. They did hair, nails, and sometimes cosmetics. This youngish woman took Serena on as a kind of personal project, and it wasn't long that Serena was turning even more heads than before. I mean she went from gorgeous to stunningly beautiful!

Her clothes annoyed me so I got some magazines and we looked at the stuff inside. I liked Glamour and Cosmopolitan especially. I started taking her shopping. I got her out of the shapeless woolens and into some pretty nice things. She started wearing softer more feminine styles, cloth textures that were more delicate, more blues and stuff, colors that complemented her eyes and pale pink complexion.

Honestly she was starting to look like a movie star. Even better, the prettier she looked the more she seemed to adore me.

For months I was in pig heaven. It was like she knew my every mood. When I wanted a cuddly kitten she became kittenish. When I felt wild and care free, up to a point, she became a wanton. If I felt mature and familial she turned into the perfect companion. I loved her, I was crazy about her, I couldn't live without her, and it was clear she couldn't live without me either. In fact it became too clear!

After several months I realized I was more than a companion and a lover, I was her loving prisoner! She had to know where I was all the time every day, and if she didn't know where to find me, or if she tried to reach me and couldn't get in touch she'd get morose. She'd accuse me of seeing someone else. She even checked my boxers once or twice trying to find evidence of infidelity. She'd touch me in the middle of day just to see if I'd get a hard on. If I did she was ecstatic, if for some reason I didn't respond right away she'd say it was because I was seeing someone else.

I couldn't understand her insecurity. I told her I loved her. We made love morning noon and night. I didn't know what to do. I was sore down there, my crotch I mean, all the time, and she always walked like she'd just been done, which, in fact, was usually the case.

My life wasn't my own. One evening I took her for a walk in a nearby park and I broke up with her. I told her I loved her, but I couldn't go on. I told her she had to trust me. She cried, oh how she cried. Then she got up. Looked back at me and said, "All right. Have it your own way," she turned and walked away.

I felt like shit, but not for long.

The next morning I got up and started to collect the things she had at my place. I was thinking I'd package everything and take them back to her place. That's about when I heard all the ruckus. I looked outside my window and there she was. This was too much! I ran straight downstairs.

Outside, sitting on the front stoop of my apartment complex was Serena stark naked, crying, and arguing with the police. They were getting ready to take her to the station for causing a public nuisance or something when I got outside.

As soon as I stepped outside she fell into my arms, "Oh Travis I knew you wouldn't abandon me. I just knew you'd be here for me."

Again I was overwhelmed. I was a doctor. I had a promising future, and here was this naked woman clawing all over me begging me not to abandon her. The police and half the people in the complex were looking at me like I was some kind of predator.

Serena had done this. I was trapped. I spoke to the police and explained that I had no idea what had happened. I lied. I said we'd been together the night before and somehow we'd become separated. I'd looked for her, but assumed she'd gone back to her place. I only think they half believed me, but they agreed to let me take her inside and find her something to wear. Then we all went to the station where she was cited for indecent exposure, forced to pay a fine, a fine I paid, and then released, and now get this, she was released into my care until a hearing could be arranged regarding 'other charges'.

I had tried to break things off because she was smothering me, and now I found myself her de-facto guardian. My girlfriend had become my ward. Don't ask me how it happened; the girl could talk. Hell, I believed her family had more money than Croesus, but it was like I was all of a sudden her custodial parent!

I took her back to my place, and she repaid me. I'll say it now. I've been saying it all my adult life, 'that woman knows how to make love'.

It was another two months before her case came up. For two months she was the perfect girlfriend. No more accusations, no more surreptitious followings, no more acrimony, whining, or threats. She was, once again, my perfect girl! I mean it; she fixed our meals, and wow she could cook! She washed and ironed my clothes, cleaned the apartment, and just did it all. All I had to was be nice to her and make love when she wanted, which was whenever she was awake. When I told people I loved her she'd just melt in my arms.

All this time we'd been together I'd never met her parents. My only connection with her family was through Serena's matronly servant-companion, and she said almost nothing. By then I knew Serena was sick; I just didn't know quite how to deal with it.

I was close to finishing my third year of what looked like a five year residency when it came time for Serena to graduate. Truthfully I loved her. I loved her like no one I'd ever loved before, but I was so uncertain. I just wished I could figure her out. She was so odd. I remember we'd had an argument, an argument like all such things, about something no one could remember the following morning. In the course of the spat she'd something like she bet I would prefer it if she ran away and found a place on skid row where she'd live in some cardboard box. In my anger I agreed. The next morning she was nowhere to be found. Of course everyone was worried to death. All my friends and her companion were convinced she'd run off and done something drastic. I knew better.

After I got everybody calmed down I suggested we visit the slummiest sections of the city. I proposed we check every cardboard box in every alley. Most of my friends and colleagues were reluctant to go into some of the neighborhoods, but I got a few to join me. Sure enough we found her. She was hiding in an old refrigerator box. It took me two hours to coax her out. I finally got her home, got her a bath, and made the all too familiar vow to never ever abandon her or leave her. After that for another six months once more I had the perfect girlfriend.

Well I got her straightened out. She graduated; that's when I met her parents, and that's when I found out a little bit about her story.

It turned out her parents were well off, but not nearly as affluent as I had been led to believe. Serena's companion was a registered nurse who'd been hired to see to her immediate needs. Serena suffered from an array of medical and mental disorders that seemed to ebb and flow with some inexplicable tide. I didn't find anything out that was particularly new. Serena was sick, but the greatest danger she posed was to herself; and as long as there was someone nearby whom she trusted she was in pretty good order. It was obvious for nearly two years I'd been that trustworthy person.

No matter how much I loved her, and I did indeed love her beyond all comparison I couldn't continue with her with this kind of life. She needed her freedom, and I needed my freedom too. A few days after her graduation I sat her down and announced, no ifs ands or buts, it was over. She had to get on with her life, and no matter how much I loved her it was the best thing for both of us.

Oh she argued, she cried, she begged, she threatened, but I made it clear as long as she remained with me she could never be a full and complete person. She needed to strike out on her own. She finally agreed, and though it saddened me greatly, I loved her that much; I knew it was the right thing. We agreed to separate and go our own ways. That last all of two months.

We were apart for all of two months. I missed her. I missed her terribly. It wasn't the sex, which was always terrific, it was the companionship. Serena was such a pleasant, warm, caring person. She was one of those people who just couldn't do enough for anyone they cared about, and she cared about me. But I got on with my life. I buried myself in my work.

I guess everyone realizes by now there must be a masochistic streak buried in my psyche somewhere. I decided to take up traumatic medicine; what is sometimes referred to as poly-traumatic care. I guess that's what pushed me into the emergency rooms; the recognition and diagnosis of incoming patients who've been exposed to a collection of serious events. Imagine being able to make snap decisions about an arriving patient with a serious head injury compounded by multiple fractures and severe burns.

So, two months out and I got a phone in the middle of the night from Serena. She's a mess. She's crying, she's all over the place. She swears she's going to kill herself. Her life is over. If I'm not at her apartment in an hour she's going to check out! Of course, I go.

I arrive and she's in terrible shape. She looks like she hasn't slept in a month. She's dirty, something highly irregular for her, and she's awash in self-pity, something not all that out of character. Her companion isn't there. I ask, "Serena, what's wrong?"

She falls into my arms. She cries and slobbers all over my shirt, "Oh Travis I'm pregnant!"

I ask, "Pregnant? How can that be?"

She whimpers, "That last month, those last few weeks before my graduation I stopped taking the pill. I thought...well...I thought we'd..."

I responded, "No, you didn't."

She expostulated, "Yes I did."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"And its mine?"

She rose up angrily, "Of course it's yours, and she corrected me. It's not an it! It's a boy or a girl!"

I asked, "Are you going to keep it, I mean him or her?"

She stared at me angrily, "I could never murder your baby!"

Well that was that. We got married. It was a small wedding held at her family's church. They were, and are, Methodists. I was a Baptist, but one way or the other it didn't matter too much to me. What's the old adage; religion is for women, God is for men. I'd marry her, we'd have our baby and we'd get on with our lives together. We had a September wedding. The baby came right on time; yeah, in June of the following year!

Yeah she'd gotten me again! I had it figured out by November, but by then she really was pregnant. All I can say is the girl knows how to pull my strings.

Our first child was Alaina. After Alaina came on board I argued against any more children till we got our financial bearings in order. I should have known better. Serena wanted children. She loved children. All she ever wanted was to be a mother. One year later Renee showed up.

The next ten years of our lives were incredibly happy. Serena had found her niche. We'd been to see several specialists and they found a series of medications that kept her on an even keel. Life was perfect. I mean totally perfect. Serena, she nursed, she pampered, she petted, she nurtured, and I mean she did all those things not just with the girls but with me as well. I Know this probably sounds like I'm some kind of sicko, but Serena insisted I share a breast from time to time.

We know all men like to play with their wives breasts, and that includes an occasional nibble and an infrequent suck. Serena insisted I suck on her tits just like the babies. At first I did it to please her, but pretty quickly I found out I kind of liked it. My mom said I was breast fed, but who remembers what happens when their a few months old? Yeah I sucked on my wife's tits and got her milk. I liked it, but I think it really overjoyed her. I had this feeling she felt like she really owned me when that happened. I didn't care; I knew she did.

I'm not done. Remember I'd been living with sick person. I worked long hours at the hospital. I was making a name for myself. There were the occasional conferences that took me out of town.

Long about the time Renee turned nine I sensed something was wrong. I'd kept up with Serena's medications; that couldn't be it, but I knew in my bones something was wrong.

It was the conferences and the out of town meetings. Serena, remember, was possessive and suspicious by nature. Someone had gotten to her. Someone had persuaded her to believe that I had someone out there on the sly. What nonsense! I lived with a woman who had a voracious sexual appetite. I've read where husbands and wives start to lose the old spark and their sex lives begin to diminish.

Sexual diminution was the last thing that would happen with Serena. For Serena sex was her sure way to affirm our love. I mean if I couldn't get it up one night I could be forgiven, but two nights, or heaven forbid three nights, and then, for sure, I'd get the third degree. What was wrong? Did I need to see a urologist? Should we get some Viagra? Do you have the flu? Actually the flu was never a good enough excuse. How was my testosterone? And the awful unmentioned, have you...?