Part 2
Previously –
On impulse, I kissed her ear. Sandra sighed contentedly and settled back into my arms. The thunderstorm continued unabated. After a couple of minutes, she leaned her head back onto my shoulder, enjoying the storm and my embrace. Sandra turned her face slightly, pressing her cheek against mine and wiggled her buns against my insanely exhibitionistic boner.
She had my full attention, so I heard her when she said, sotto vocce, “I’m having very naughty thoughts about you.”
Kissing the hollow of her throat, I replied, “I’d be willing to bet my allowance that they’re not half as naughty as mine about you, Sis.”
“Oh, Kevin, they’re awfully naughty.”
She turned in my arms to face me. Her embrace was so thorough that I felt naked in her arms. Then she leaned back in my arms and she had that deadly serious look.
Placing her hands on my chest she said, “We really need to talk about this soon, Kev. We seem to be headed into uncharted water.”
Her words were not intended as a rebuke but I could not help but feel that I may have said the wrong thing or at least, not quite the right thing. The thorn in my chest made another wrenching half turn and I saw my misery reflected in her eyes.
But, then my stomach growled and I asked, “Can we eat first?”
Begin Part 2
“Certainly, my sweet, but let’s wait for the storm to wind down.”
Now that was the second time she had called me that and it gave me goose bumps. Sandra noticed and her brow creased slightly with concern. She touched my cheek and studied my face rather intently. She put one hand flat against my cheek then moved it to my forehead. After a moment, her hand went to my shoulder and she pulled me closer. She kissed me, pressing her lips against mine, very gently and lingered over it. The goose bumps intensified. My dick decided to take a break and promptly deflated. It left me feeling light headed and I broke into a cold sweat.
Sandra leaned back in my arms her frown deeper and asked, “Are you cold?”
“No,” I replied.
“When did you do your last test?”
“Just before lunch.”
“When, Kev, when did you eat?”
“Oh… Um… I think around 11:30.”
She stepped back out of my embrace, turned me toward the door, and took me by the arm just below my shoulder. She nudged me in that direction and said, “Come on, Kev, let’s go look at your Logbook. It’s my turn to test your blood sugar.”
“OK, Sis.”
I was beginning to feel all the symptoms of dropping blood sugar. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. I had had a very long and active day – then, Sandra. My erection had been continuous for at least an hour and a half, probably longer and I had been in an intensely heightened state of excitement since I’d opened Sandra’s bedroom door. The thing about insulin shock is that by the time you actually feel the symptoms, you don’t have much time. You do something about it or you pass out.
As I stepped through the open door, my equilibrium wavered. Sandra followed close behind letting the screen door bang shut. Quickly she pushed me to the couch and shoved me down on it.
With some urgency in her voice she asked, “Where is your kit, Kev?”
“In my pocket, Sis.”
My khaki shorts were British Army style. We both liked them because of the large patch pockets on the sides. I felt Sandra’s hands feeling my pockets to locate my kit. She removed it from the left pocket. As she was unzipping the case, the light coming through the open door grew very bright. The sun, low in the west behind the house had cleared the edge of the fast moving storm. We both turned our heads to look.
Sandra said, “Hang in there, Kev. Don’t pass out on me, my sweet.”
I tried to say, “OK,” and reached for her hand but before either of those things could happen, my lights went out.
--
I was lying on the deck of our boat. It rocked me gently in the ebb tide. The sun was very bright and low behind me. In front of me, the sky was full of dark receding storm clouds. Houses and trees sprang up where there had been boats. My field of vision narrowed to the height and width of an open doorway, but the gentle rocking continued. A little disoriented, I took stock. I was lying on the couch, the lights had come back on, and my upper body lay across Sandra’s lap. She held me in her arms rocking me and crying softly. She pressed her lips to the side of my face. I could taste the cloying sweet orange of a glucose tablet under my tongue. Then in a rush, I was fully awake. The recovery is always fast and dramatic.
Before Sandra realized I was awake, I heard her whisper through her tears, “Come back to me, Kev. Please come back.”
“I’m right here, Sis, and I’m not going anywhere.” She hugged me tighter and began to shower me with quick little kisses. “You’re crushing me.”
I felt a couple of tears drop onto my face and they made me ache for her.
“Oh Patches, don’t cry. I’m OK. I was in no danger with you here.”
“Patches,” talk about dredging up old memories. I hadn’t called Sandra that in years. She used to have an old-fashioned apron made like a patchwork quilt. It was another of those enigmatic gifts from Aunt Patty. Sandra had loved it and had worn it to death. Our Dad had taken one look and said, “My God! You’re covered with patches.” The name stuck. For as long as the apron lasted so did the name. I had called her that long after the apron was gone but it had been several years now since I last called her Patches. It just made her cry more. I sought her lips with mine and kissed her fondly.
“Well, I see that the little letch isn’t dead yet,” said Saki, stepping through the front door.
Saki is short for Sakura-no-Fuji (Cherry Blossom of Fuji,) her mom is a romantic and Japanese. Saki’s last name is Smyth, Nakamura-Smyth actually. She’s our best friend and she also has diabetes.
“Not!” I said turning my head. “Hi ya, Saki-chan, kon nichi wa.”
“Hi yourself, squirt. Are you giving Sandra fits?”
Sandra sat up straight as Saki knelt beside me. She took my hand from Sandra’s shoulder, pressed two fingers to the inside of my wrist, and then pressed her lips lightly against my temple, checking my pulse and temperature. I turned into her “kiss” and planted a big wet sloppy one on her. She did not pull away but returned it in kind and was in no hurry.
Chuckling, she sat back on her heels and said, “He seems quite recovered to me. Why were you so worried, Sandra?”
“His last test.”
Sandra pointed to the coffee table where she had my kit spread out. Saki picked up my meter with the last test reading still displayed. The reading was 62 mg/dl. Saki’s eyes went wide with surprise. She set the meter down then took my hand in both of hers.
“That’s too dangerous, Squirt. My God, what did you do? You run a marathon or something and forget to eat? Did you somehow take too much insulin?”
“Nothing that ambitious.”
“How long was he out, Sandra?”
“Just over three minutes.”
“How many tabs?”
“Only three.”
“Yeah, gag-in-the-mouth orange,” I added.
“How long has he been mouthing off?” she asked with a broad smile.
“Only since just before you came through the door.”
“Have you been back on your feet yet, Squirt?”
“You’ve been here as long as I’ve been awake,” I growled.
Saki kissed my cheek and said, “Don’t be a smarty pants. How about you try sitting up, OK?”
“I don’t know, I kinda like it here,” I replied.
“It’s all this kissy face stuff that you like. So, sit up or we cut you off.”
I sat up. Saki held my hands. Sandra had one hand on the back of my neck. So far, so good, I thought. They both seemed to be holding their breath. So, I took it a step further and stood up. They both came up with me.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, squirt,” Saki cautioned.
“I think I will take your advice,” I said sitting back down on the couch.
“Smart boy,” said Saki, patting my cheek.
“Do you feel dizzy, my sweet?” asked Sandra. There it was again.
“A little, Patches, but all this attention is terrific.”
“Patches?” asked Saki, raising an eyebrow. “God, I haven’t heard that one in ages.”
“Hmm, yes,” Sandra mused, “Something seems to have flipped his nostalgia switch.”
Sandra and Saki decided that another test was in order. They went about it with military precision. This time the reading was 69.6 mg/dl, not too shabby. About then my stomach growled loudly reminding me how we got into this mess in the first place. They both looked at me with disquiet etched on their faces.
“Well, that explains this whole business,” said Saki, “the poor darling boy is starving.”
“Starved for Luv,” I said playfully.
“Ha! No chance!” said Sandra.
“And what are we, chopped liver?” huffed Saki.
“In fact,” Sandra continued, “there is probably no other bad boy in the entire country who enjoys as much love and TLC as you do.”
Now, I knew that they were just teasing me. They were really good at it and they had been doing it for years. But, a guilty pang swept over me and I reached out to touch them in contrition. Still in teasing mode, they pushed my hands away. I wasn’t even aware that I was leaking until Saki brushed a tear from my cheek. They stopped laughing and Sandra took my hand. Saki took the other one. Bouncing blood sugar levels can play havoc with your emotions.
“Oh, golly! You’re not a hundred percent yet, are you Hon?” said Saki.
“I guess not,” I said sheepishly, “or I wouldn’t have made such a stupid remark.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, my sweet. I know what you meant.”
“Yeah, me too, Squirt. We’re all sex starved teenagers,” said Saki squeezing my hand. “So… you’ve gotta eat pretty quick.” It wasn’t a question. “My mom said that I am to bring the two of you home with me so she can feed you. She’s in the mood to make Sukiyaki and Sushi. I wouldn’t turn that down if I were you. Besides, she has been worried sick about the two of you left home alone.”
“I love Nao-san’s oshokuji.” I said as eagerly as I could.
“And don’t think she doesn’t know that, Squirt. Nao-san thinks you’re pretty special too. She doesn’t get out her Gensu knives and put on her paper hat for just anybody.”
“I take it that Rally’s is out, Kev? I’m with you. I would much rather have Nao-san’s cooking and the company of our friends. Did you drive down, Saki?”
“Yes, I’m parked right out front.”
“Nao will want us to stay the night, won’t she?”
“You know my mom.”
“I think that will be just the thing for me and Kev. We could stand a bit of fun.”
“Yes, we surely could,” I said, thinking of seeing them both in an advanced state of undress.
Saki said, “Is he leering at us? Shame on you, Squirt.”
“No, he’s leering at his fantasy of us. It’s an Anime that he runs in his head. It’s harmless enough, I suppose. OK, last question Kevin – is my car roadworthy or is it still a parts collection?”
“Oh Sandra, you wound me. I spent the day working on your car. You’re in for a big surprise!”
Smiling, she said, “You are too easily wounded and I don’t want any surprises after I start the engine.”
“Follow me,” I said handing her the keys. They followed close behind.
“Happy Birthday, my dear sister. Your carriage awaits.”
With a flourish, I opened the door to the garage and flipped on the lights. The girls followed me out into the garage then just stood there staring. I put on my white gloves then patted the rear deck of Sandra’s cherry, canary yellow, 1965 MGB Roadster.
“Oh, Kevin, it’s gorgeous.”
“Did you really expect anything less? Please note these improvements – the turn signal lights are amber, locking monogrammed gas cap, boot luggage rack, and MG mud flaps.”
Stepping to the side, I caressed the machines gleaming flank.
“Five coats of Turtle Wax – not three, not four – and hand rubbed.” Patting the hood (that’s the top of the cabin for you colonials,) I said, “Removable hard top with porthole windowletts.” I opened the door and said, “Step this way my lady and note the new hand rubbed oak dash panel, new plush canary carpet and butter soft, hand stitched, Corinthian leather seat covers.”
“Oh, Kevin, you have truly outdone yourself.
