Jen's Legacy.

He was still able to talk; just, but his mind was already becoming scrambled with welcome anticipation of making love to this woman who now occupied his thoughts and his life.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I had to go, that morning at the motel. I could barely tear myself away, but I had no choice.”

“I know, Royce. I understand.” She hadn’t understood at the time. “Gran explained most of it."

She glanced up at him. “You didn’t tell me you were a surgeon.”

“It wasn’t important at the time.” It never had been. “My priorities were always you; rescuing you; falling in love with you, getting you safely to Culver with me without you getting injured too much, and then getting totally lost in making love to you.” Their priorities had been obvious. “Nothing else seemed to matter. We don’t know much about each other, but we did get the important things behind us.”

They certainly had. And, how! And those feelings were still there at the forefront of everything.

“I hope you weren’t too shocked by that interview Gran gave that reporter?” She knew he must have seen it or heard it.

He shook his head. “Not shocked. Gratified to know that your grandmother was not on the warpath for me after I let her loose on you in that motel room, and what she must have thought of me when she saw you and the mess we’d left... I’d left.”

Claire chuckled and corrected him. “The mess that we’d left." She emphasized that one phrase, 'that we'd left'. "Gran was shocked, of course, to see me the way I was, but she soon recovered. Nothing much knocks her off stride for long.”

He blushed.

“I imagine she was shocked. I thought she’d be after my scalp, or my balls after that.”

“Not those, Royce. Your balls are mine.” They were indeed. "And I intend to guard them very well. You would be surprised to know what they mean to me." He didn't know what to say.

“Gran was shocked, but she hid it well. The first thing she noticed when I sat up in bed was what you had done to me; shaving me down there, and then she saw the stains that I was even then adding to the bedsheets as you ran out of me.”

That was not something a parent or a grandparent needed to see about their loved one, and recognizing what must have happened to them at the hands of a man, and of something much more damaging than his hands.

“She’ll beard you, good-naturedly mind you, over dinner, about that motel episode.” He accepted that. He knew something of her grandmother’s sense of humor. Anyway, it was too late to re-draw that picture. The damage had been done. Virgins did not suddenly get re-made in real life. Once that stage was behind them there was no getting it back.

“I got snippets of it here and there in the hospital, when the hospital staff began to congratulate me out of nowhere on my engagement and my approaching marriage to Claire Prescott. It was announced enough on the radio, even on the TV and in the papers. They even announced it on the intercom this afternoon as I was leaving the hospital. It was very hectic, but I made some good friends too.

“I smiled, nodded, and accepted it. I wasn’t sure where the news had come from, but it wasn’t really a surprise. I’d talked to your grandmother about that, just before I walked away. I confessed everything to her then; confessed my feelings for you-- sudden as they were for her to deal with-- and tried to warn her what to expect when she entered that room.”

If anything could 'ever', have prepared her for what greeted her, seeing her granddaughter like that.

Her grandmother had read between the lines rather than being too shocked. They were in love. She’d heard that, earlier in that first phone call. Claire had given him his life back, and he had given her a life, wanting her to be in his life now, never to lose her again.

It had been too short a notice, but her gran was a canny old woman who accepted it at face value, having had warning of it from listening in on that call on Thursday evening when they had been making love even then. She wouldn’t be able to change anything, and didn’t want to, so acceptance was the only option. She had accepted.

“Look.” Claire slowed and pointed to Jen’s painting above the fireplace. “We were there, just over a week ago, you and I. I got a photograph of that scene on my phone, and I found the one that Jen took, on your phone. I hope you don’t mind.”

He shook his head.

“I stored them on my computer, and in the cloud, and then printed them out into an Album. That was what I worked on most of the time you were away. I had to keep myself busy or I may have gone totally mad.”

He knew that feeling all too well. He had been busy himself.

She leaned up against him with her head against his shoulder.

“I made up another album too, of other photographs that you and I took, and some that gran took of me in that room with me in all of my naked, ravaged, depilated glory, and I got a start on a journal of everything that happened since we met.”

“Everything?” He sounded mildly concerned.

She nodded and squeezed his arm.

“Everything! It is my insurance policy against gran or my parents lodging a protest, or to discourage you from getting cold feet about us marrying. I hope you do still want to marry me.”

“Never anything else, my love.”

“Good answer; so now, if you will promise to be a very good, very bad boy, I will show you the conservatory.” He detected the hidden promise in that suggestion. “And if we have time before dinner, I will also show you outside, and the rose garden, my grandmother’s special place.

“She suggested that, if you would not mind, you could put Jen’s and Claire’s ashes around some of the plants in here, and even in the rose garden too. That would help keep her alive in all of our minds. I think I need her memory close to me, just as you do. She helped me enough when I most needed it. That way she will always be with us.”

“You think of the nicest things, my love. I agree.”

Claire led him deeper into that wilderness of greenery to the far end, as her grandmother had suggested. They would not be disturbed here.

He got a sense of what she intended when she squeezed his hand.

“We will be alone here for as long as we like and for as long as we need to be, Royce. My parents are not here; the gardener is in a far greenhouse, and Gran is cooking. We’ll hear the dinner gong sounding, but there will be no hurry, and that’s at least an hour or more away.”

She turned into him and kissed him again,

“I cleaned off this potting table in preparation for your arrival, but I’ll need your help to get up onto it, please. We don’t have to wait any longer, Royce. I so missed your attention.” She was blushing up at him, leaving him in no doubt what she wanted to happen.

His eyes sparkled.

He’d missed her attention too.

“You’re sure about your gran?”

She nodded. Her grandmother had told her that she, herself, wouldn’t be going anywhere near the conservatory.

Royce lifted her onto the bench as they kissed, moving her skirt out from under her and back from her, then slowly removed her panties as she rocked from one side to the other to help him. They were damp already with anticipation! He would have no difficulty getting into her. That thought alone, blew his mind away. He might not survive this.

She undid his shirt and his trousers.

“Are you sure your gran won’t….” She kissed him to convince him.

Did it matter if she did? She knew everything that they had already done, and would be doing with each other from this moment forward. Claire had even insisted that they would be sleeping together in her bedroom.

“She won’t. She knows what we will certainly get up to, she even suggested I brought you in here, so she will be staying away. We can always be naked with each other at this end of it, and in my rooms. They are at the far end of the house away from everyone else. All of the household staff have today and tomorrow off.”

She completed undoing his trousers as he undid her skirt and her blouse, and then reached around her to unclip her bra. His head and another part of him were pounding and throbbing with excitement, even as she peeled off his shirt and pushed his trousers to drop at his ankles, leaving them both naked again. At last!

As he looked at her, he held her panties up to his face and breathed deeply of them.

“Royce!” She feigned shock, not understanding what there was about that smell that could captivate any man, except it did. He had done much more than that at Marsden, going to sleep upon her with his head between her legs, as she’d held him there, breathing into her, and her needing to feel his breath upon her there. Then he’d revived and changed again, wanting to make love to her once more.

“If I could have had this scent of you inside my facemask to breathe, as I operated over the last few days, I would have been much more at peace with what I was doing. Except the operating room staff might have objected if a pair of womens delicate panties had fluttered out of my facemask onto what we were doing.”

She found that funny.

God, he was big!

Bigger and stiffer than she’d remembered; like iron, but he’d also been deprived of her body too, for a few days. That must be why.

She pulled him between her legs, feeling him touching at her as he lifted her cheeks and moved closer to her as she helped him, moving him along her, using her saliva to help, though she was wet enough already, feeling him going into her as she pulled him close, breathing through her mouth and striving to relax as she felt him going into her; slowly, thank the lord.

He laid her back along the bench and moved deeper into her. The drought was over, and she would soon be bathed in his semen again inside her body there.

Right there, Royce, exactly there. She had missed him.

This was what life was all about. She had arrived.

She held her panties up into his face for him to breath of her as he went into her, and came down upon her, holding her breasts and pushing steadily into her.

She had never felt him so hard, but she had too little experience to go on, except he hadn’t only looked bigger; he felt harder and bigger than she remembered before, and he was more eager.

She smiled. She had just made a triage decision of her own by bringing him in here. Which problem was the most urgent? It had been obvious to her. She’d tell him later.

He didn’t want this to change or to end, but it was beyond his control anyway.

He came, with deep groans and a sigh as he pushed hard into her, moving her on the potting bench, stiffening catatonically after only a couple of minutes, but he wasn’t going to go anywhere else for much longer, needing to savor this moment once more as he got rid of everything.

He had thought of little else than doing this for the last few days and wanting to get back to her, every waking moment.

He looked down into her face and kissed her through her panties as he slid slowly back and forth within her in small movements as their bald genitalia-- uncluttered by hair-- rubbed easily over each other, savoring the moment, the feeling; the excitement not fading, building again as he came back to life for the next time—staying exactly where he was, where he would always want to be—which would be just a few minutes away. He recovered quickly, but that was all due to her and the way he saw her and felt for her.

Absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder and his prick to harden up, but maybe not to make it longer, as that dirty little 'ay-ay-onga' ditty suggested.

He recovered his breath and was able to talk once more.

He was taken back to their first pivotal meeting by the river after he had pulled her from the water.

“You unexpectedly meet a woman that you fall in love with, at the speed of a hit and run accident. It happens so fast it leaves your head spinning. So fast. Yet it takes a lifetime to tell that story; how you never even want to leave her from that moment; that you want to touch and caress her everywhere, to kiss her every waking moment for the rest of your life.” And now he would be able to.

“It is painful not to be close to her. You cannot imagine anywhere in life without her by you, never anywhere else but with her, speaking with her, observing, loving. But how does one stay so close to someone like that without overwhelming them and making them feel boxed in?”

“I will never feel boxed-in, Royce, or overwhelmed. I want this too, just as much as you do.”

He kissed her. “Thank you. I’ll be here now (in this house, and in you) until I officially start working on Monday, unless you kick me out (something he knew she would never do), so we have several days to catch up on, though I will need to go into the hospital for a couple of hours each day to make sure everything is as it should be, until all of my patients are discharged or get moved somewhere else. You can go with me.”

She would go with him.

She smiled. “It’s a good job I don’t wear contact lenses.”

He was not sure what she meant. “Why? You don’t need glasses.”

“I was thinking that if I had contact lenses, they would have been washed out of my eyes with the force of that. Of you, coming, into me.”

They both laughed as the dinner-gong sounded.