Brain Surgery

Having a romantic dinner together at a fancy restaurant in the big city was now out of the question.  Oh, the circumstances were otherwise just perfect: grandparents at home sitting the six kids, booking a comfortable suite at a reasonably-priced lodging four hours from home, the liberty to have a little alcohol or even a cigarette during foreplay and afterglow (well, these would have to be enjoyed outside the premises according to rules of our hosts), the potential for a well-deserved escape from the natural confines of a noisy kid-filled house in a depressed rural hamlet where the restaurants close at 8pm.  They were really looking forward to this night alone, and the anticipation was already causing some stirring in the loins.

She sat in the lobby somewhat nervously, not having seen her husband for over an hour now.  These things always took twice as long as they should, and it was now almost eight o’clock.  She unconsciously twisted his wedding band around the shaft of her finger, recalling the words of the petite woman leading him down the hall out of sight Now Mr. Miller, you’ll need to take off Everything…

Presently the door buzzed open and Angela’s heart leapt for joy. With a light feeling of relief she rose quickly from her nondescript chair.  Finally, here he was, they could now make their escape into the rarely traveled world of public romance.  One look at Chris’ face, however, told her that this would be out of the question.  No high heels and Little Black Dress tonight.

For his normally relaxed, grinning, confident, youngish-looking countenance had been replaced by the drawn caricature of a saddened, beaten man, one who has no control of his destiny, who seemed to have aged ten years in the past two hours.  It wasn’t just the sagging of eyelids or drooping of shoulders that ruined his appearance–she could fix those in no time with a few moments of licking and sucking while they got dressed.

No, it was rather the collection of metal discs stuck to his head, nine little magnetic stickers arranged around his face and scalp.  Each one was a little half-inch circle of blue and silver, and was surrounded by a thick Sharpie line.  He looked pretty much like robot, and a melancholy one at that.

Chris had been effectively transformed from physician to patient.  He didn’t like the feeling.

So, Sweetheart, she said after a brief kiss on his down-turned lips, How was the MRI this time?  Oh, the usual, Angela, lots of waiting, then several blown attempts to get the IV going, followed by loud buzzing and honking in that tiny tunnel as I tried to keep perfectly still for half an hour.  The only thing different this time is these stupid stickers all over my face.  Those are the markers for the brain surgeon’s scope tomorrow, and they’re not allowed to come off overnight.  Nobody told us about these darned stickers.  Arrggghhhh!

Another kiss from Angela, a little deeper and wetter this time, and they were on the way our the hospital doors and crossing the avenue to the hospital guest house where they were to spend the night.  I Guess we’re eating in tonight, she laughed, so let’s talk a walk and get some food to eat back here.  And so they did.

Chris lingered a few aisles back from Angela, trying to learn to smile politely at the many customers–pretty much everyone, actually–who stared openly at this otherworldly figure with the robotic face.  From this distance he could he the response of others to his wife when she was alone, and it gave him pleasure.  The store was filled mostly with young professionals and grad student-types, the type of clientele that is never ever present in their supermarket at home.  He watched as younger men turned their heads for a second look, and then sidled slowly up to Angela, stopping just barely inside her zone of personal space to pretend to show interest in the melons, or “accidentally” brushing against her slender form as they passed.  The kind of nonsense he himself used to do when he was single.

A couple times Angela made eye contact with one of these flirters, and her face would instantly turn a deep shade of red.  As they walked the few blocks back to the Family House with their purchases, she smiled and said Wow, a Girl could get used to that kind of attention!  Hey, Darling, I got my fair share of looks too, you know, he chuckled.

Dinner in the communal kitchen downstairs was pleasant, and the walk around the block to sip a bottled rum-and-tonic and have a smoke was nice, and now they were back up in their room.  He wasn’t sure what to do.  Their romantic plans were dashed, and as downcast and anxious as he was feeling, Chris wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get it up tonight.  Absently he flipped on the TV while Angela went into the bedroom, finding an old comedy from the eighty’s they used to enjoy together as newlyweds.

She emerged a minute later, and his eyes took in the view of what the guys in the market could only imagine–the totally nude form of his loving wife.  Come sit with me on the couch and make out awhile, Angela.  No, Dear, let’s just get right to bed, no foreplay tonight, I don’t want to waste a minute.  And with that she straddled his lap, French-kissed him deeply (they used to call it tonsil-sucking back in the college engagement days!), and removed his shirt, pinching his nipples hard.

Come on, she giggled, Let’s get going.  The remaining articles of his clothing were shed on their way to the bedroom, where he could see that Angela had pushed the Ozzie-and-Harriet twin beds together.  As per her orders, the two quickly got down to business, the first part of which was to get her depressed husband stiff.  Going down usually would do the trick.

And so with little fanfare she pushed him gently back on the mattress, straddled his knees with her thighs, and bent to take his soft member into her mouth.  This was a new angle for her, she was used to approaching fellatio from the side, and she found that she could bite and suck his growing phallus and have it reach all the way back to her throat without gagging.  In fact, now that his rod was rockhard with ardorous engorgement, she realized that this was the deepest she had ever had Chris during oral sex.

Chris, too, appreciated the new deeper sensation, reveling in the swallowing motions of Angela’s velvety throat, the splendor of her tongue caressing the sensitive underside if his erection, her teeth closing down top and bottom around the base of his penis where it met his now-sweating body.  Hhmmm…

Angela’s pussy was humping his left knee with every stroke of her loving head and mouth.  Her breasts were dangling against his lower groin, and although he couldn’t reach them with his hands, he could feel the rigid softness of her excited nipples bouncing against against his balls.  The sensation was beyond exquisite, past rapturous, and he felt the first tingling wave of pre-orgasmic pleasure spread upward from his loins.  She kept sucking and deep-throating, and it appeared as though she was going to keep him there, and he prepared himself for a first-time-ever ejaculation into his wife’s throat, where from this position it was clear she would just have to swallow.  Wow, she was finally fulfilling one of his many treasured but unmet fantasies…

Ring…rinnggg…Dang, there’s the cell phone, need to pick up.  And it’s in the other room.  Hello, Mom.  Yes, we’re fine, Don’t worry about a thing.  Yes, we know Jesus will take care of us.  Sure, Angela and I would love to speak to each of the kids.   Yeah, thanks for calling.  G’night Mom.

Now, where were we?  Do you want to finish, Angela.  No, Chris, I lost the mood for oral, I think I want you inside me now.  And with that she settled back into the little upholstered armchair, legs spread wide for him, and tickled his shrunken member with her nails.  Instantly his cock sprang to attention, and he knelt before her on the footstool, entering her waiting throbbing moistness with the familiar sensation that he was again returning home after a long journey.  Ahhhh….

Her ankles locked around his waist, Angela pulled Chris’ hardness deep inside her womanly core, and her fingers found his pumping ass and her other hand reached down to fondle and tweak her clit.  Soon there was a firm pinching and twirling of her nipples from Chris’ one free hand, and a powerful climax came over her heaving bucking body, and tonight with no kids in the next room she let herself moan aloud in pleasure, and as her husband shifted his body just a little bit he was stroking her G-spot with the head of his talented dick and another back-arching toe-curling climax of a different sort wracked her sweating gasping form, and then he altered his stroking pattern again and she prepared herself for his ejaculation, for the spurting of his seed into her depths and for the mind-blowing selflessness that can only be experienced through mutual orgasm.

Ring…Rinnggg….Hello?  Oh, Hi Pastor.  Yes we’d love a word of prayer.  No, I’m really not worried that this will be really risky surgery tomorrow; it is all in God’s hands.  No, we won’t know till next week if it’s malignant, it’s a rare tumor that requires special staining for the biopsy.  Yes, Amen.  Thanks Pastor.

Now, where were we…

And so it went.  Pleasure to the brink of orgasm over and over, while talking in-between to mother-in-law, brother, brother-in-law, each time getting small, then hard again, each time returning to the bedroom to take Angela in a different position: doggy-style, 69, spooning, until finally the phone remained silent long enough in the missionary position for him to let go, leaping over the orgasmic precipice to pump streams of pent-up semen into his loving, and very patient, wife.  The ejaculation seemed to go on forever and ever, finally petering out and leaving him dizzy and peacefully sated.

Angela, eased him off and rolled him to her side, feeling his breathing slowly returned to normal.  She gazed down at his magnet-stickered face and let out a little chuckle.  So, Robot Man, wanna go down for another walk?  A cigarette would really feel good right about now.

He stared serenely back into her loving eyes, their green hue sparkling softly in the glow of the nightlight.  That sounds great, Honey.  And no matter how much of me the neurosurgeon has to remove in the morning, I can say you have truly fucked my brains out tonight!  Come kiss me!

Ring…Rinnggg….

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