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Last Sex
Her doctor looked at us both after Susan whispered the question. “Yes, you can still be intimate together. But think of life in terms of weeks from this point on. Treasure each moment.”
Susan looked at me with redness in her eyes. I felt like crying but didn’t.
We acted on the doctor’s orders that very night. Our bedroom was silent except for our breaths, mingling in this space that was ours alone for the last three years. As we made love, it was gentle, a whisper of what we once had. Her eyes were closed.
I placed myself over her carefully and tenderly entered her as if she were a porcelain doll. Her eyes were closed as if meditating. During her chemo, we’d abstained from sex, so I was hungry for her and knew our time together was short.
Once I was inside, I felt her relax and her legs spread wider to accept me. “More,” was all she whispered as her hands pressed me in.
I looked down at her scared chest remembering. I kissed her scar and thought of our high school days and how beautiful she was swimming at the river before we first made love.
When her eyes opened, they held the universe. Her gaze, heavy with love and pain, met mine, and her tears interrupted our pressing. "Why?" she asked. “Why does it have to end?”
I continued pressing and simply said, “Our love will never end.” I didn’t know what I meant but it was all that came to mind.
As we made love, I remembered her dancing on stage in high school. Oh, how I'd marveled at the discipline in her movements brought on by years of training. I thought of how she loved to press her breasts against me when we kissed. I thought of how lustful her eyes could be, perched as they were on her innocent face that could have been that of a child. I thought of how wide her eyes were when she looked up at me while kneeling.
I felt myself tipping and she knew it was time. She seemed to sense it. Her palms held me hard against her frail frame as if this were our last time.
“Oh God,” I cried as I felt the ecstatic release pouring into Susan for what might be the last time.
Susan looked at me with redness in her eyes. I felt like crying but didn’t.
We acted on the doctor’s orders that very night. Our bedroom was silent except for our breaths, mingling in this space that was ours alone for the last three years. As we made love, it was gentle, a whisper of what we once had. Her eyes were closed.
I placed myself over her carefully and tenderly entered her as if she were a porcelain doll. Her eyes were closed as if meditating. During her chemo, we’d abstained from sex, so I was hungry for her and knew our time together was short.
Once I was inside, I felt her relax and her legs spread wider to accept me. “More,” was all she whispered as her hands pressed me in.
I looked down at her scared chest remembering. I kissed her scar and thought of our high school days and how beautiful she was swimming at the river before we first made love.
When her eyes opened, they held the universe. Her gaze, heavy with love and pain, met mine, and her tears interrupted our pressing. "Why?" she asked. “Why does it have to end?”
I continued pressing and simply said, “Our love will never end.” I didn’t know what I meant but it was all that came to mind.
As we made love, I remembered her dancing on stage in high school. Oh, how I'd marveled at the discipline in her movements brought on by years of training. I thought of how she loved to press her breasts against me when we kissed. I thought of how lustful her eyes could be, perched as they were on her innocent face that could have been that of a child. I thought of how wide her eyes were when she looked up at me while kneeling.
I felt myself tipping and she knew it was time. She seemed to sense it. Her palms held me hard against her frail frame as if this were our last time.
“Oh God,” I cried as I felt the ecstatic release pouring into Susan for what might be the last time.
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