Sweet Memories

She reached up and stroked his jaw, "No," she whispered, "stay with me."

Jayne started to cry, "hold me."

Alan lay down again and gathered his wife in his arms, whispering soothing words as she wept.

"What if I never remember? What if the years don't come back? What if I've lost my memories for good?"

"Then we'll have to make some new ones, won't we."

Jayne was not comforted. Yes she felt safe and secure in the arms of this gentle man, but she didn't love him. How could she when she didn't even know who he was? That he loved her was not in question. But what if she never came to love him? What then? Even though she knew that Alan had told her nothing but the truth about their time together and she had seen the wedding photos with her own eyes, it all felt so unreal, like a dream. Here she was lying in bed with a man she didn't know wearing a very sexy nightdress. And it all felt wrong. No, not wrong, it didn't feel wrong, it just felt odd. He had said that they would make new memories. But would that be enough? It took Jayne a long time to fall asleep that night.

When she woke up in the morning, she could feel something warm on her chest. She looked down and saw that Alan was sprawled with one leg hanging off the bed and his hand gently cupping her breast. He had kicked his duvet off in the night. She gazed at his sleeping face as he snored gently. His face looked innocent in sleep, like a small boy. But that contrasted sharply with the fit hard body he had. Jayne let her eyes wander across his bunched shoulder, down his back. His spine was a narrow indent that ran the length of his upper body, bisecting triangular pectorals and a slim waist. Down, over his firm buttocks, encased in his boxer shorts along his legs to his feet. She started to feel warmth growing in her chest and not just from the heat from his gently cupping hand.

Jayne knew what the feeling was, she was getting turned on. The feel of his strong yet tender hand along with the beautiful view he was presenting was turning her on.

Her nipples started to harden and she could feel an itch building between her thighs. She giggled to herself as the feelings started to grow, she felt like a virgin. Rationally she knew she probably wasn't anymore. But that didn't change her emotional thoughts.

It was like she was seeing her first view of a naked man, the first time she felt a strong hand touch one of her illicit places. The first time she looked up into the face of a man above her as she lay with spread legs awaiting the intruder that would change her from a girl into a woman.

She was bracing herself to reach out and stroke his shoulder when she felt him stir. He mumbled, sighed and drew his hand from her breast to rub his face.

As the warmth left her breast, her courage failed. She had wanted to touch him then same way he had inadvertently touched her, but her cowardly hand retreated back under her duvet. He smiled blearily at her, "Morning Jay, sleep well?"

Jayne forced a smile, "Like a log."

Alan planted a quick kiss on her cheek, rolled out of bed and said, "You shower first, I'll put the kettle on." To which she agreed. After Alan went downstairs, Jayne continued to lie in the bed a while longer staring at the ceiling. She was cursing herself for all kinds of cowardice. She had wanted to touch him, nothing more and had been unable.

"Idiot!" she snarled to herself, "What you think? He'd bite you?"

After laying there for some time, she decided to bite the bullet and get showered, she stood up and removed her nightgown just as Alan came back in, "You're taking your time, have you fallen back to sl-", he stopped where he stood in the doorway carrying two steaming mugs of tea and stared at her.

Jayne gave a small squeak and tried to cover herself against his gaze. Embarrassed and angry she shouted, "What are you staring at?" Alan's mouth worked once or twice before he said, "I'm sorry. It's just every time I see you I wonder what you ever saw in me. You're just so damned gorgeous."

Jayne pulled the duvet off the bed and hastily covered herself, "Don't stare at me I don't like it!" He reddened, muttered an apology and hastily went back downstairs.

Alan sat in the kitchen on a high-backed stool and stared into space, absently sipping at his tea. He could hear Jayne upstairs bustling about. He heard the shower turn on and then a few minutes later turn off again. And then he heard a muffled shout.

"WHAT?" he answered.

"I SAID WHERE DO WE KEEP THE TOWELS?"

He went back upstairs, pulled a towel from the airing cupboard and passed it round the partially open bathroom door, "Here you are," he said.

A wet hand took it and he heard a muffled, "Thanks," before retiring back downstairs again.

A few minutes later Jayne came into the kitchen, she was wearing a light flowery dress she had found in her wardrobe. She looked ill at ease, "Alan..."

"What?"

"I wanted to say sorry."

Puzzled he responded, "Sorry? What for?"

"For shouting at you, when you... You know... saw me."

He waved a deprecating hand, "Oh, don't worry about that. It was my fault, I should have knocked."

"In your own house? To see your own wife? No, you shouldn't Alan. This is difficult for me, I don't know you from Adam and I was embarrassed when you saw me like that. But I shouldn't have shouted. It's difficult for me, but I know it must be hard for you too."

Alan remained silent for a moment and then replied, "I understand, I really do. And you're right, it is a bit difficult. I have five years of memories of you, three as your husband and I forgot that you don't have them any more."

He was right. She had no memory meeting him, no memory of falling in love with him, no memory of losing her virginity to him and no memory of their life together so far. She had nothing and she hated it.

"Alan, I may not have any memories of us, but I do know that my mum never raised an idiot. If I fell for you, then there must have been some damn good reasons. I know two things about you Alan Evans. That you must be a good man or I wouldn't be here now, and that you must love me, or you wouldn't be here now. I'm willing to give it a go. I'm willing to try make some more memories of us."

++++++++++++++++++++

The next day Alan got up first. She found that he usually did on workdays and woke her with a mug of hot tea. Then he went to work. Jayne discovered that he had labelled all the cupboards and drawers with post-it notes, so that she knew where to find things until she knew her way around.

It was thoughtful and she was touched by the gesture.

Then she would potter about the house. Generally finding her feet and trying to remember who she was. That was something she hated. What did she like doing? What were her hobbies? Did she actually have a hobby? She knew that there must have been more to her life than doing housework.

She wandered into the back garden and took a look in the shed. It was filled with photographic equipment almost like a professional studio with one corner curtained off with heavy black suede to use as a dark room. There was a shelf by the door that was filled with portfolios. She flicked through one of them.

It was filled with pictures of all kinds, portrait shots, landscapes and action shots. Jayne placed the album back on the shelf and continued around the small room. The equipment meant nothing to her, it all looked extremely technical. Maybe Alan was a keen snapper. And then she came to a small framed certificate, it read '1999 Sunday Times Amateur Photography Competition Winner. For the best Country Landscape presented to Mrs J Evans'.

Alan wasn't the photographer, she was! Jayne was shocked. "I knew how to use all this stuff?" On a low table she saw another small photograph album and on a whim she opened it. It was not filled with landscapes.

The first picture was of Alan in the bathroom, he was wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and his laughing face was covered in shaving foam. She turned over, it was Alan again, still with the shaving foam but now he was walking towards the camera with his arms raised over his head, his fingers spread wide.

Intrigued, Jayne continued to look through the photographs. They were all similar to the first few until she reached the last third of the book. The first was their empty bedroom. The camera must have been placed on a tripod and raised so it was looking diagonally down over the bed. The next showed Alan laying down on the bed, he was naked. The next was of both of them. Alan was lying in the same place, but this time she herself was in the picture, she was giggling as she knelt next to him on the bed and had a firm grasp of his hard penis. Jayne studied the picture carefully, "My God!" she thought, "It's huge!"

She could feel her nipples hardening as she looked through the rest of the pictures, each one raunchier and more intimate than the one before. The last shot showed her astride Alan with his hard prick jammed right up her pussy. The expression on her face was of intense joy. Slowly her hand slipped down to her crotch, she could feel a burning heat coming from her pussy, she bunched her dress up and slid her hand inside her knickers, she was soaking.

Gently, she started to rub her moist opening as she continued to look at herself in the picture. Was it really that good? Is that what she looked like when she came? Her nipples were painfully hard and she suppressed a shudder as her middle finger brushed across the top of her swollen clitoris. Jayne's lips pressed together with a snap. The sensations coming from her cunt were unreal, the heat, the wetness, the waves of pleasure that were growing in her womb. She discovered that small circles round and round her throbbing nubbin produced such sensations as she was almost unable to believe.

Jayne dropped the book of photographs and her now free hand came up to roughly massage her tit through the material of her dress. Her breath started to come in ragged sobs as wonderful feelings began to fill her. She twisted and pulled at her aching nipples, one after the other and back again as her boiling pussy foamed. Instinctively, Jayne thrust her middle finger right into her pussy hole, so that the pad on her palm was pressed against her clit. In and out she thrust her finger.

Faster and faster... and an image filled her mind, she was lying down with Alan poised above her and the intruder in her hot twat was not her own finger, but his big, hard cock. And she knew it was no vision, it was a memory.

Instantly, a shuddering wave of heat burst from her womb and filled her belly and then exploded in a fire that seemed to fill her whole body.

Gasping for breath, Jayne had to grab the table to steady herself before she fell to the floor. She stood still, leaning against the table, slowly regaining control of herself and calming her breathing from gasping sobs to rhythmic deep breaths. Almost regretfully, Jayne pulled her soaked hand from her cunt and allowed her dress to fall back down, covering her properly. "Oh wow!" was all she could say, "Oh wow!"

Jayne now started to feel a need. A real need to make love with Alan. She could feel a yearning for him to take her in his arms. She picked up the album from the floor and looked at the last picture again. She had just had a wonderful orgasm, she knew, but judging by look on her own face in the picture, it had been nothing to what it could be.

++++++++++++++++++++

When Alan got home, it was about six o'clock in the evening. Jayne had cooked him a meal. She thought it bizarre that she needed a recipe to create sausages and mash. But she had, and she wasn't sure she had got it right when she watched Alan doggedly chewing on a sausage. "Is it okay?" she asked. "Lovely," he replied.

Jayne giggled, "Then you should sue your face for slander. Admit it, it's horrible."

Alan grinned, "Well you never claimed to be a good cook."

He placed his knife and fork on the plate with some relief and asked, "So how was your day?" "I explored. I'm a photographer."

He watched her face, "Did you remember that?" Jayne smiled a little sadly, "No, I found my studio. But I did remember something." His eyebrows lifted, "Really, what?"

Suddenly Jayne was embarrassed. How could she tell him that she had frigged herself off to some photographs of them together and remembered taking him inside herself. She blushed bright red, "Well... I..."

Somewhat impatiently Alan said, "Come on, tell me."

Jayne's courage failed her, "No, it was a mistake. I thought I did, but it was a mistake."

Alan reached across to take her hand, "Never mind Jay. They'll come. And if they don't, we've got years and years to make new ones."

Jayne hated herself at that moment. She desperately wanted to take her husband in her arms and kiss him, and stroke him and take him in her body and love him. Although she had no conscious memory of their years together, it was obvious to her that her body did. In fact she could feel her pussy moistening as she sat there.

But her rational mind kept applying the brakes against all of her womanly impulses.

"You can't," it said, "You don't really know him," and, "You're not that kind of girl!" She raged back in her mind, "But I'm not a girl! I'm a woman and he's my husband!" "But do you really know that?"

"Of course, I've seen the pictures and I did remember. I did!"

"Then why couldn't you tell him? Well? Why?" "I... don't know. I was embarrassed."

"You were embarrassed to tell him that you remembered having sex with him? You want to grab him now and do it, but you were embarrassed to talk about it? Oh come on! You aren't ready yet and you know it."

Jayne was screaming inside, "But I want to!" "Sorry kiddo, not yet," the voice softened slightly, "You will... but not yet."

Jayne knew that her voice was telling the truth. If she was ready then the voice would not have been there, but the frustration of it all made her burst into tears.

Alan, unaware of the turmoil his wife was going through leaped up and rushed round the table to hug her. His voice full of concern he asked, "Jay, what's up? What's happened?"

She felt his arms encircle her and her body shivered in automatic anticipation. That made her even more miserable. She struggled free of his embrace and shouted, "LEAVE ME ALONE!" before storming up to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Alarmed and hurt by Jayne's reaction, Alan quickly followed her upstairs. He pushed into the bedroom and found her sat on the bed sobbing. Alan sat down beside her and tried to put his arm round her, but she shrugged him off.

"Leave me alone."

"Just tell me what's the matter. Was it the sausages? I'll eat them if you want. They weren't that bad."

Even in her misery Jayne was forced to laugh, "No," she mumbled, "It's not the sausages."

"Then what? Tell me."

"I can't."

Alan was a little angry now, "Why? Don't you trust me? You think I'm going to laugh at you or something? God Dammit Jayne! I'm your fucking husband! If you can't trust me then who can you trust?"

He took a deep breath before continuing, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to swear at you. It's just... I feel so helpless. You can't remember anything about me and you are hurting, I know that. I just want to help. I want my Jay back."

Tears came unbidden to his eyes, "I'm your husband. It's my job to look after you, to protect you, and look what happened. Some bastard nearly killed you and I wasn't even there. And now I don't know if I'll ever get you back."

He collapsed onto the bed sobbing openly, "I wasn't there for you."

Now it was Jayne's turn to comfort him, "Alan, it wasn't your fault. You mustn't blame yourself. It wasn't your fault."

She tried to comfort him, "You mustn't feel guilty about the accident. These things happen. And it was nothing you did that upset me. Alan... Alan, look at me."

Slowly he raised his eyes to hers. Jayne gently massaged his shoulder as she spoke, "It's nothing you did. Believe me. And it's nothing about what I thought you might do. It's me. I am trying Alan, I hope you know that, but it's just so hard. I want to be your wife again. I've only known you for a few hours, but I can see the man you are."

Tears began to flow, "And I can see exactly why I picked you in the first place. It's just... I need time. I know we'll be happy again. I know it. I just need a little time. Can you give me time Alan?"

No further words were said. The young couple embraced firmly and held each other.

++++++++++++++++++++

The routine was set. Alan went to work. Jayne spent the day either on housework or in her studio. She was teaching herself to use the camera equipment again. She tried simple shots in the garden of flowers. She tried setting up little scenarios in the studio, arrangements of pots and potted plants. One afternoon Elsie came to see how the they were doing and was press-ganged into a portrait shot. Their evenings were spent talking about the usual trivia that fills every marriage as well as the important things.

And twice a week, they attended the local gymnasium for a workout. Though it must be said that while Alan worked hard on his physical fitness, Jayne spent most of her session time in the coffee shop.

One afternoon, Jayne decided to have a look at all her work. Once developed and dry, she laid out a selection of her pictures on the kitchen table and studied them.

"Damn," she murmured, "I am good."

As she pored over the prints her eye was drawn to a photo she had taken of one of the wild flowers that grew through the fence near the bottom of the garden. It was a weed. A simple Dog Daisy. But there was something about the picture that drew her.

She stared hard at it. What was it about that one picture?

The voice in her head spoke, "You know what this picture means don't you?"

"No. But there's something about it."

"Yes you do. You know exactly what this picture means."

"I DON'T!"

"Jay, I'm on your side. Trust me. You do know what this picture means. It reminds you of something doesn't it."

"No... Yes. But I don't know what."

"Jayne, I know we haven't been seeing eye to eye recently. But I had to stop you. I wish you would understand that. You just weren't ready. But I think you may be now. All you have to do is remember"

"I CAN'T. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?"

"Relax and remember."

Jayne stared even harder at the photograph. A key turned. A small door cracked open and a ray of light escaped. There was a creak and then the door flew wide open with a crash... And a vivid memory returned.

It was Alan.

He was holding a Dog Daisy and he gave it to her. She remembered thinking what a soppy fool he was and telling him so, but he had merely grinned that grin of his and told her to smell it. Laughing, she brought it to her nose and noticing a glint of something shiny hidden in the bloom. It was a ring.

Jayne looked down at her left hand. It was her engagement ring.

Alan fell to one knee in her mind and said, "Marry me."

Jayne was stood in a church. She was wearing an ivory gown and Alan was stood beside her. She could hear his voice reciting his vows. She was kneeling in the front garden of their new house planting a small rose bush in the circular bed she had just cut, while Alan was painting the exterior woodwork blue. The blue she had chosen. She remembered that he wanted British Racing Green, and that had been their first argument as man and wife.

Jayne was naked on their marital bed. Laying on her back ready to receive her Alan into herself.

"I love you so much."

"And I love you."

++++++++++++++++++++

When Alan returned home that evening, the downstairs was dark and quiet. He could hear Jayne bustling about in the bedroom. He walked upstairs, opened the door to their room and saw Jayne looking at herself in the mirror as she stood naked.