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I kept simulating her, wanting to prolong her pleasure as much as possible, but then she reached her threshold and pushed my hand away, her eyes closed, panting softly to catch her breath.
I slid out very carefully, not wanting to see and enjoy my semen dripping out of her as I usually would. I wanted every drop to remain inside. Satisfied, I collapsed onto her for a moment, wanting to kiss her once more and feel her body beneath mine.
“Stay like this for at least an hour,” I said after I kissed her several times in a row, her mouth, her nose, her cheeks, her forehead. “I’d like to stay but I have office appointments.”
She smiled, her eyes still closed. “What do you think your patients would say if they knew what you’d been busy doing for the previous hour?”
“Hardly an hour,” I said and checked my watch.” More like seven minutes.” I chuckled and pressed my forehead against hers, loving her sense of humor. Loving everything about her. Wishing this moment could last all day.
“I have to go,” I said softly. “I wish I could keep you company, but I have to run.”
“What time should I expect you? Will we have another round later tonight?”
“Count on it,” I said and rose up off the bed and padded to the bathroom to wash up and brush my teeth. “We’ll have more time tonight,” I said, calling from the bathroom, “but there’s something hot about a little afternoon delight.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” she said from the bedroom. “We aim to please.”
I finished brushing my teeth and then got dressed once more. I felt Kate’s eyes on me as I dressed.
“Can you give me my laptop? There’s no reason why I can’t work on my paper for the next hour.”
“I’m crushed,” I said in mock hurt. “I thought you’d be content to consider how hot a lover I am and how erotic it is to be impregnated by your husband.”
She laughed out loud at that, and so I bent down on my way out and tickled her ribs, enjoying her giggles and attempts to avoid me.
“Ut, tut, tut,” I said and made sure she was back into proper position. “Remember—stay like that for at last an hour.”
“I will,” she said and pouted. “Bring me my laptop. And pull the covers over me. It’s cold in this old apartment.”
I went to her desk and brought it back, handing it to her before kissing her on the mouth once more.
“I love you, Kate,” I said, and looked in her eyes, wanting her to know it.
“I love you, too, Drake,” she replied.
Then I kissed her once more, because I couldn’t stand not to. Finally, I tucked the blankets around her, and then I left.
I went back to the hospital, saw a few more patients for an hour and then I slipped out of the hospital before five to go and put the finishing touches on my gift for Kate. I wanted to find a special keychain and so I went to the art galleries around the neighborhood, looking for something artsy. I found a stand of keys in a gift shop at the Met, and one had a few beautiful key chains with images of Monet and Degas. What would Kate like the most? Then I saw a couple by a nineteenth century artist named Waterhouse that reminded me of Kate’s drawing of a Knight and Lady and I had an idea…
I told the clerk about my idea and she suggested I get one of the key chains that had removable images in it. I could substitute any image I wanted, and personalize the keychain to suit Kate’s tastes. I paid the clerk and carried my present off, excited to see her face when she opened her present on Christmas morning.
Kate
Two days before Christmas, Drake came home later that normal and while he was in the shower, washing away his day at the office, I went to the kitchen where I had prepared a couple of chicken breasts, rice pilaf and some salad ready for our dinner, and busied myself setting the table, pouring Drake a glass of white wine.
I hadn’t been feeling all that well on and off for the past few days and Drake had told me about the flu going around so I stayed in my gown and slippers, lying on the couch, taking medicine for my aches. Drake finished his shower and slipped on his dressing gown before joining me in the dining room. He came over to me and took the glass of wine and we toasted each other and had a sip. I grimaced at the taste and put my glass down.
“You don’t like the wine?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s not that,” I said. “I have a bit of a headache. Wine isn’t the best cure.”
“I know what cures headaches,” he said and smiled mischievously.
I laughed but pushed him away playfully. “I don’t think so,” I said. “Not tonight at least.”
“How are you feeling?” he said, his face concerned. He pulled me into his arms, brushing my hair back from my face, pressing his lips against my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”
“I’m fine, Doctor,” I said and smiled at him “Just a little under the weather. Plus I’m probably PMSing.”
