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During the second evening there, she’d whispered to him to lie back, to let her take care of something for him. It was after midnight, and the nurses had just done their last vitals checks before morning.
She’d then checked off one item on her bucket list.
In the silence of the night, she’d slowly licked and sucked him, until he was softly groaning for reasons entirely different than pain. And though he whispered to her not to do it, that she didn’t have to, she’d gently placed a hand over his lips as she pumped his big cock that final flurry of seconds, watching avidly, greedily as his thick, pearly cum arced into the air, splattering against his belly, matting in his pubic hair, soaking her hand and wrist in his delicious essence.
“Wait until I get you home, Uncle Max,” she’d murmured, licking his cum from her skin—then from his, too.
He’d slept like the dead the rest of the night.
Finally getting him back to his house, helping him convalesce at home was something she’d had an unaccountable eagerness for. She considered that it might be her innate urge to please, to serve, to be useful to him. Or perhaps it was misplaced guilt, her nagging worry, and sorrow that if she’d just stayed, he’d never be in the pain he was in now.
But every time she’d been in danger of spiraling down into that despair again, she’d turned to him, to comforting, caring for, and loving this amazing man.
Her Uncle Max.
She’d found the role of caretaker both bonding and unexpectedly erotic. Whether it was washing every inch of his body by hand—and taking her time doing so, savoring every second of it—or giving him long, loving blowjobs to distract him from the pain, or letting him suckle from her breasts deep in the night to comfort him when he couldn’t sleep… it was the deepest, most intimate, and yes, sweet connection they’d experienced yet. She found a unique, special delight in caring for this man.
Her Uncle Max.
Weeks passed, and he’d finally gotten out of the cast, his ankle back to normal.
And though she’d fussed and worried about it, he’d insisted they go hiking again, to their special hideaway.
They sat in their familiar spot, and made love, the brilliance of the afternoon light illuminating the whole of the valley below in sparse, gorgeous splendor.
Then they lay down upon their blankets, legs entwined, their sweat coursing down their naked bodies.
“Kelsey, do you remember that gift I gave you?”
She stirred against him, the imagery of it playing in her head as if it had happened yesterday. His sweat staining his dark gray t-shirt, it had been at the end of a long day of moving her into her dorm. The goofy grin as he laid the gift in her palm, wrapping her fingers about it, was something she’d never forget. It had been a silver necklace, handed down through their family for generations. His ancestors on his mom’s side had come over from Scotland—Inverness. The necklace was said to be of Norse origin, in the family lore… though he’d told Kelsey at the time that he didn’t really believe it. That made her laugh.
Still, it was the most amazing gift she’d ever received, and she’d been truly touched.
“Do you remember my condition for accepting my gift?” He stroked the line of her throat, a stray lock of her hair catching on the rough material of his cast. “Hmm?”
“You told me that I had to make a secret wish.” She stirred against him, running the back of her hand up and down the line of his soft and sticky cock, spent for the moment. “Do you remember my condition?”
“I do,” he said, his voice a deep singsong rumble. “You told me that I had to do the same.”
She rubbed her spread hand up and down his muscled thigh. “What did you wish? Will you tell me?”
He was silent for so long that she thought perhaps he’d decided he’d had enough of this subject. “Tell me yours first.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the boss—and I told you to.”
She giggled, rubbing her body against his teasingly. “Okay, I suppose I can’t refuse that.” Then she paused, her throat suddenly tight, the memory so very vivid. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this—and for the record, it was a silly wish. I wasn’t serious. I don’t think…”
“Spit it out, Kels.”
“I… I wished… that I could marry you.”
Max stiffened, his head lifting. “You… you did?”
She nodded. “And I wanted to have your babies.”
He laughed then, long and loud, and she gave his chest a little smack.
