The endless night finally ended, just as the sun started to peek over the horizon and light the early morning. And it was that night that we understood our obedience to Amalia, our need to do her bidding and perform in the manner she commanded us.We spoke no words to one another, exchanged no looks or glances to decide how to obey...that night we only acquiesced.
Over the next two weeks we continued our pattern of non-communication, never daring to speak of the night with Amalia. We also continued to harshly and aggressively use each other for sex whenever the urge or occasion arose. I would force her to her knees and fuck her mouth angrily, causing her nose to run and her eyes to weep uncontrollably, her throat battered by my cock until she would almost vomit from the stress. When I came in her mouth, she would stand up and kiss me hard, pushing the cum and the bilious saliva onto my tongue. She would reciprocate by pushing her pussy onto my mouth, grabbing my hair and masturbating herself with my mouth in rhythm to the thrusting of her hips, pushing me behind her to tongue her asshole, pushing my fingers deep inside her as she strummed her clit with her fingers, causing herself to spurt on the hardwood floor, wiping it up with her hand and licking her fingers clean. We no longer bothered with intercourse, preferring the impersonality that the quick hit and run oral sex seemed to give us.
She still gave one night a week over to Amalia, and so for the two weeks after we understood our positions with Amalia, Debra would disappear for the night, returning as Alice well past midnight, reeking of alcohol, her clothes in partial disarray, damp from unknown exertions, exhausted. By the third week, she came home from work and told me that Amalia told her to bring me along that evening, and so I watched as Debra changed her clothes, squirming into a tight black tube skirt that cupped her ass, fishnet stockings, impossibly high heels that I had never seen her wear before, a half bra that pushed her breasts up so that they were practically falling out of the strappy black top that completed the outfit. A long black trench coat completed the outfit, and we quickly went downstairs to find a taxi.
She leaned forward to give the driver our destination, and I gazed out the window as we started to drive towards a neighborhood that we never frequented, somewhere far downtown in the rougher part of the city. She turned sideways and leaned up against me hard, her breasts stabbing me in the arm. Her lips rested on my ear, as she whispered, "Put your hand up my skirt and see how wet I am already."
That's when I found out that she was wearing the open crotch fishnets, and hadn't put on any panties. And I knew it was going to be a very long night.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
The Not So Bad News
For the longest time, She ran a major surgical unit in one of the better hospitals in New York City, and over the years we became inured to the vagaries of the medical world, the O/R mistakes, the misdiagnoses, the misbehaving patients, the misbehaving doctors and staff, the whole nine yards.
And yet it still shocks us when the doctors trip and fall, revealing themselves to be absolutely human and less than perfect. Her sister was diagnosed two or three weeks ago with Alzheimer's, and was scheduled to go for additional testing on December 31st. And so the phone call that we received on New Year's Day was, if anything, more bizarre than seemingly possible.
The diagnosis of Alzheimer's was yet another medical mistake. Her sister, who has been taking numerous medications for a bipolar disorder was, in fact, misdiagnosed many years ago, and should not have been taking the drugs she was taking. All of her craziness stems, it seems, from being over-medicated, and for the past weeks she has been withdrawing gradually from all the medications.
I'm happy for Her, and happy for Her sister as well, but much of the questions about her behavior the last few years remain...the drugs exacerbate the symptoms, not the personality, and if she's a nasty and caustic bitch, will she remain the same? If it were me, I would be a whole new person, ecstatic over being given a second life.
So the votes are still out.
And yet it still shocks us when the doctors trip and fall, revealing themselves to be absolutely human and less than perfect. Her sister was diagnosed two or three weeks ago with Alzheimer's, and was scheduled to go for additional testing on December 31st. And so the phone call that we received on New Year's Day was, if anything, more bizarre than seemingly possible.
The diagnosis of Alzheimer's was yet another medical mistake. Her sister, who has been taking numerous medications for a bipolar disorder was, in fact, misdiagnosed many years ago, and should not have been taking the drugs she was taking. All of her craziness stems, it seems, from being over-medicated, and for the past weeks she has been withdrawing gradually from all the medications.
I'm happy for Her, and happy for Her sister as well, but much of the questions about her behavior the last few years remain...the drugs exacerbate the symptoms, not the personality, and if she's a nasty and caustic bitch, will she remain the same? If it were me, I would be a whole new person, ecstatic over being given a second life.
So the votes are still out.
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