tagRomanceTerminal Sweetness

Terminal Sweetness


She smelled it yesterday, just like before and When she opened the cabinet it was there, the sickly sweet fragrance hung over her like darkness. Then she remembered: beneath the bright lights, with a scarf on her head, watching the drip, drip, drip into her arm. Those days she walked a bit apart from herself, slightly out of step and every morning: that cabinet, that smell of sticky sweetness.

Recalling her joy, when suddenly the strange smell was gone and it stayed away year after year, and she walked as herself, whole, connected, unafraid. Sure, there were scars inside and out, tender, sensitive to touch, but, the illness was gone. She had won the battle, she lived, day after day, every day for nine years.

But now, in the kitchen, in the cabinet, that damned cabinet, she smelled it, faint, almost forgettable, but she couldn't forget. It stayed as she scrubbed and scrubbed the cabinet, the walls and the floors. No matter how she scrubbed, slowly the smell shrouded her, cloaking her in the sticky darkness.

Her fingers ached from scrubbing, as she closed her eyes and slowly opened the cabinet door. It was not any cabinet door, it was "that" cabinet door, it opened and she smelled it, a sickly sweet smell, almost cinnamon. Something she hadn't smelled in almost nine years. They called it a remission then, recently some of the doctors dared say cure. But now, that smell was back.

The calendar said, "Dr. appt." on Thursday and She knew she must tell the doctor and they would run tests, take blood, examine her thoroughly, but she already knew what they would find. She could face the treatments again, loosing hair, the nausea, and the pain: she was prepared.

She touched her chest and felt a slight tingly sensation on one of the scars. She thought of her husband. They still made love when she was fighting the disease, when she felt okay. But, when they did, he was always so gentle, tender. Gentle and tender were fine, exquisite at times, but sometimes she longed for something firmer, rougher. Like now, she loved those times when he hovered on the verge of loosing control, when she saw an urgency in him, when he was a bit rough, not out of violence, but out of need. That is what she missed when she was ill. She would have to tell him but...

Standing at the kitchen door she watched him watch her turn out the light and lean seductively against the doorframe. She unbuttoned her blouse, letting it fall to the flor, then reached and unfastened her skirt. He could see her scars, the light was dim, but he could still see. It had taken some time for her to believe that he still found her sexy, that when he ran his lips over the scars on her chest he wasn't revolted.

She watched him stand and remove his shirt, and noticing the bulge in his shorts and she smiled. He clumsily removed his shorts and underwear and walked quickly over to her, as he pulled her to him, she felt his erection as it slid against her panties, she ground herself against it, enjoying the hard feel. She loved thinking how, though it got so hard, when she touched it with her fingers it felt so soft.

He reached his hands past the elastic of her panties and squeezed her ass hard. Yes he wanted her, she felt his urgency as he touched her and she felt it in his breath as he pulled her panties off and kneeled down before her. Spreading her legs she opened herself to him, feeling his hot breath and the cool touch of his tongue as he tasted her. Closing her eyes, she moved her hips rhythmically, pressing her lips onto his face, listening to the slurping sounds he made as he ran his tongue over her.

The first wave shuddered over her as he slid two fingers deep inside her. They slid easily into her wet warmth, remaining there as her soft walls convulsed around the fingers. He stood up, pressing his erection hard against her, grinding it. He grabbed her as, squeezing hard again, pulling her onto him as she winced a bit at the pain. Yes, this was what she liked, she thought as she felt his hands tremble on her.

Easing herself back onto the carpet, she relished the thought he would take her there in the living room, rather than walking back to the bedroom. She felt the urgency rise in him as she slowly opened her legs and felt his weight lean upon her. Feeling his quick thrust of penetration she reminded herself she had something important to tell him, but feeling his hot breath on her neck and hearing his moan she decided it could wait. She would tell him tomorrow.

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byjthserra© 3 comments/ 19116 views/ 0 favorites

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