My body heated up as we walked into the room after a long day at the hospital. Leaning in, I held on to Michael tenderly while taking the lead and kissing him. I started to guide his hands to my breasts, looking at him in a way that needed no words. He took the cue, kissing me back hungrily, passionately, but ever so gently as he started to undress me.
I helped him unbutton my dress; as it fell to the carpet, he unclasped my bra and lavished my breasts with kisses, nips, and teasing licks. He kissed his way down my body, focusing on the narrow depression of my navel. A soft breath hissed between my teeth as pleasure rushed through me.
When he had me naked, he pressed kisses along my inner thigh. I rocked my hips closer as he covered my lady bits with his mouth. He made more room for himself as he gripped my thighs. I couldn’t help but tremble against his tongue, my whole body quivering.
I had braced myself for the feel of him, but my imaginings paled in comparison to the reality of Michael. He was a beautiful, well-made man, eye-popping, sexy and very masculine.
Holding my wrist, he pulled me back. Then, thrusting his hips, he sought the place he had wanted to be for months now. Arching my hips, I took all of him; it was neither smooth nor graceful, but it felt so damn good, and I was not sorry for taking the initiative.
With his expression, I knew he liked the way it felt. I heard every laboured breath and felt those strong hands trembling. Between my thighs, his hips grew restless, making demands – rougher, faster.
Michael’s body was tight with desire, and undulating with his basest of labours was the most exciting thing I’d ever seen after having such a bad day. His ‘instrument’ was just as hard and hot, dragging with maddening friction along my lady lips and cl**s.
Heat lashed my belly as he came. His groans faded, and his muscles fell slack. Suddenly it was just the two of us in the dim, silent room, ripe with the smell of sex.
We held each other in the dark, saying nothing, our breathing regular until we finally drifted into a state of half sleep and wakefulness.
The next morning, I woke up with a heavy heart. I couldn’t leave Michael at this period, not after everything we shared. I knew he needed me now more than ever before. His test result came as a shock to me. It all left me a little shaken and also a little disappointed. It felt like all the work I had put in and the positive attitude I held on to had not been worth it.
Michael had been battling cancer for some years without my knowledge. When we started dating, I noticed he was always going for checkups, and I thought he was just a stickler for being healthy, considering his Greek god looks. Knowing that he had been battling cancer and was in his last stage was very hard for both of us; him more. I had been through all the phases of denial, including hating him for not telling me before.
I started to worry when he was suddenly constantly sick. His full head of dark curly hair was suddenly gone, and he said he wanted a new look. He started getting leaner and said he was trying a new diet. Now I know it was the chemo. Michael had become less than a shadow of the man I had met, and it broke my heart.
He had pushed me away several times when it became clear that it was getting worse, but I fought to stay with him; to let him know how much he meant to me.
Leaving Michael was the last thing I would do; I love this man with every fibre of my being and knew he would have done the same if the tables were turned. So I decided to stay with him and support him till the end.
Staring at him, my love for him grew the more, and I was determined to make the last year of his life the best.
Dorcas Akintoye is a dedicated writer with more than 2 years prolific experience in writing articles ranging from food, entertainment, fashion and beauty. She has a National Diploma in Mass Communication from Kwara State Polytechnic, Ilorin. She loves writing, listening to music and playing scrabble. She is a highly-skilled, enthusiastic, selfmotivated professional writer.