I walked into my apartment for the first time in nearly four months. My husband dutifully escorting and helping me walk, along with my crutches. My left leg was still broken from the accident and the doctors said I would still need them for another week or two. Most of the rest of my injuries had fully healed, only a handful of scratches and bruises remaining, aside from my leg, indicating the horrific car wreck I was lucky to walk away from.
I looked around the living room seeking out the objects and signs of being home at last. Sadly no such feelings stirred in my mind of remembering this as my home.
It was the one other injury caused by the accident that hadn’t healed, but wasn’t visible. My memories, they had all been lost to the miasma of my mind, assuming they were still there at all, while I laid in a 3 week long coma. When I awoke in a dazed stupor the doctor and nurse tending to me began asking me all sorts of questions once they ascertained that I was indeed conscious once more.
“How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Can you tell me your first name?”
“What year is it?”
“What’s the last thing that you remember?”
The last question left me most shaken. As I tried to remember, I realized that I couldn’t remember anything. Sure I knew what things were, objects, words, etc. But my past, my identity, were missing from my mind. The last thing I remembered was waking up just moments ago. When I told the doctor and nurse, a man standing off by the window made a sobbing sound. I hadn’t noticed him before in all my disoriented confusion and focus on the doctors. When I looked over at him, his hand was over his mouth and tears were forming in his eyes.
“Mrs. Marvet, do you recognize that man?” asked the doctor.
“No… Should I?”
The tears in the man’s eyes began falling down his face, as he turned away and exited the room, undoubtedly to prevent everyone from seeing him break down.
I was soon to find out from the nurse that the crying man was my husband.
The majority of the past 3 months had been spent recovering from my various wounds, rehabilitating my now underused muscles and undergoing every scan, x-ray and test imaginable to determine what kind of damage had been done to my brain and how, or if, I could get my memories back.
According to the doctors, nothing appeared to be physically wrong with my brain, though there was some swelling from the accident that has since healed. My parents, sister and best friend, Sarah and Jenna, all came to visit me while I recuperated and the doctors hoped that perhaps one of them could have helped spark my memory. I remained a blank.
With my physical recovery nearly finished, the doctors decided it would be best to let me go home and put me back into familiar surroundings. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that it wasn’t an immediate remedy, but still I was hoping…
Eric, my husband, has rarely left my side the entire time. I was told that even while I was in the coma he rarely left my bedside, wanting to be there if and when I woke up. He did go in to work for a few days after I remained unconscious for more than a week, trying to get his mind off of the issue and do something productive. But it was too much for him to bear to be away while I was injured and helpless.
He’s been an amazing help and support in my physical therapy, and he’s been trying everything he can to help me remember my past with him. I can understand why I fell in love with him, why I married him.
He’s highly intelligent, patient, and sensitive with a quirky sense of humor. “Nerdy” is how he described himself to me. At 6’ 4”, dark hair, green eyes, strong build and a comforting smile, he’s quite handsome to boot. In these past months I’ve often caught myself thinking that it’s a lucky woman to have him as a husband, then I would remember that I am that lucky woman.
I must be akin to a ghost for him; helping me with my physical and mental rehabilitation every day like he does. Knowing that my memories of him, of us, are gone. His wife is here, in front of him, but gone all at once. Sometimes, he’ll just stare into my eyes and I can see the pain he’s going through in his; looking for that spark of recognition, that twinkle in my eye indicating my ever dying love for him. I see that affection he holds for me in his eyes just before it turns to sadness in seeing the stranger that I now am inside.
Now here I was, feeling like a stranger in my own home. Even the bedroom, the place where Eric and I shared many a night making love, did nothing to jog my memory of my past life.
Perhaps there was nothing here worth remembering?
In the few days after I had awakened from my coma, the lack of my memories caused me to question everything I was learning of my life. Plenty of marriages are out of convenience, or impulsive, or simply the result of one or both parties settling for the best they think they can get.
I had no reason to assume that my marriage was anything but a loving one due to Eric’s constant and passionate support and attentions for my well-being and recovery. But still, the absence of my memories left me uneasy and questioning everything about what I’ve been told about my life. Even to question how loving my marriage was. All I had up to this point is everyone else’s memories told to me. It was a terrible feeling.
My thoughts were brought back to the present as Eric walked into the bedroom and began talking to me.
“Your clothes are in this dresser here; underwear and bras in the top, shirts and shorts in the middle. Most of your nicer outfits are hanging in the closet with your jeans. I moved those out of the bottom drawer so you wouldn’t have to bend so far to get them should you want to try to wear some of the looser ones over the cast. If you would like, I can draw you a bath tonight and help you into the tub so your cast won’t get wet.”
“No thanks, I think I’ll just try to shower with the bag over my leg. Are my pajamas in the top drawer as well?”
He hissed and blushed a little, as if reluctant to give his response, before saying, “Well, there are some teddies in there that might pass for PJs. Though you don’t really wear anything to bed.”
“Oh!” I exclaimed, also now blushing. “Well, no offense, its just I wasn’t exactly planning on getting in bed with you naked on the first night home. I mean, since I still don’t remember you and all.”
“Don’t worry about it. I was planning on sleeping on the couch for a while anyway. Got my pillow and blanket all ready. “
“Oh, no! You shouldn’t, it’s your bed too. I could…” he cut me off and put his hands on my shoulders.
“No, its fine. I wouldn’t expect you to sleep next to a man you barely remember. You’re going through a lot. I want you feeling as comfortable as possible in your own home until you get your memories back, however long that takes.”
I teared up a little at how understanding Eric was being at this moment and at how I could ever think that this could be a loveless marriage. “Thank you, Eric, for being so patient with me. I’m so sorry to put you through all this.”
“Shhh, hush now my love.” he soothed as he wrapped his strong arms around me and let me cry into his chest. His lips kissed the top of my head. “I know you don’t remember, but I made a vow to be by you always. Now go get your shower and get some sleep. Good night to you, my dear Anna.”
He turned back just before he left the room to say, “Oh, and just a heads up, I have to be heading to work in the morning and so I’ll be coming in early to grab my clothes and shower.”
I smiled my thanks for the warning, and he left for the living room. I turned myself toward the master bath.
I shut the bathroom door behind me and began taking off my clothes, careful not to put any weight on my busted leg. Balancing myself with one of the crutches I studied my naked form in the mirror.
At 5’ 6” I now weighed a mere 115 lbs. having lost close to 30 while bedridden in the hospital. My auburn hair flowed down to near my waist, wisps of it falling down my front and grazing over my firm 34 C breasts. Bruises and scrapes from the accident still marked much of my body; some of them will become scars as a constant reminder of my brush with death. I traced varying marks across and down my stomach, if I had any muscle tone before it had long been lost to the many months of laying in bed for far longer than I would like to ever again. Gradually my hand traced mark after mark down my body until I came to the thick bush of hair that had grown from the small patch I had first seen after I had woken, now hiding my womanly folds. Turning around, I strained my neck to view my back and rear. My back showed more signs of the accident but seemed to stop well before my bottom, still curvy if a little flabby from lack of exercise.
I wrapped my casted leg in a plastic bag and carefully arranged myself in the shower. I would have loved to take a good long soak in the bath just then but I’m simply too tired to keep myself from the bed that long tonight. The hot water, cascading over my body, soothed my aches and wounds as the soap washed away the smell and feel of the hospital.
Refreshed from the shower, I hobbled over to my dresser to look for something to sleep in. I blushed again when I saw what was in the drawer. Lace lingerie of all kinds and colors, see through thongs, g-stings, stockings, and teddies. It was clear that we liked to keep things spicy in the bedroom. I settled on a light blue teddy that covered my breasts, stopping just short of covering my bottom, and matching lace boy shorts.
I maneuvered myself into bed, keeping the crutches within reach, and settled myself for a good night’s sleep. On the nightstand, to my right, was a picture of Eric and I looking into the camera. His arms wrapped around my waist and both of us smiling, laughing.
“Why can’t I remember…?” I murmured as I fell asleep.
- - - -
I awoke the next morning when I heard faint noises in my room. The sun was just beginning to shine in through the window, causing me to moan in discomfort while my eyes adjusted to the bright light.
Eric turned from the dresser when he heard me. “Oh! Sorry Anna. I was hoping not to wake you.”
“No, its ok. I wanted to be up before you left anyway.” I smiled, and caught myself looking up and down his nearly naked body.
He stood with broad shoulders, a light muscle tone filling out his arms and chest and the hint of a six-pack. It was the muscle underneath his grey boxer-briefs that I was surprised to see so clearly. His long shaft strained against the fabric as it traveled up toward his right hip bone, the waistband stopping it from escaping out from the top of it.
“Well, I was still going to make you breakfast before I left.” Eric commented as he walked over to me. “I only wanted to let you sleep a little longer before hand. You always complained about how you never got a good night’s sleep in the hospital.”
“I’ve had enough of beds. I’d like to spend more time awake and moving around thank you very much.”
“As you wish my dear.” he cupped my face with his hand and kissed me on the cheek. My eyes wondered back to the pole tenting his underwear.
“I can make breakfast while you shower if you want.”
“Don’t you dare risk straining that leg by standing over a stove. I’ll carry you to the table when I’m done. Unless of course you’d like to do some of that moving around and walk over yourself?” He smiled coyly as he walked off to the bathroom.
He forgot to close the door fully when he went in. A foot wide gap was still left that I could look into when he turned on the water. I gasped a little in surprise when I saw him strip off his boxers. Cute butt.
That’s all I managed to glimpse before he stepped into the shower.
I noticed moisture building between my legs. Looking underneath the covers, my lace boy shorts were now transparent. Then it hit me; I didn’t even remember what sex was like. I looked back to the open bathroom door, steam now beginning to fill the room.
How many times had Eric and I made love in this very bed, and I don’t even remember what it feels like? Was he my first? How old was I when I lost my virginity? Did I like it? If I couldn’t remember ever having had sex, did that make me a virgin all over again?
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Eric emerge from the bathroom, shirtless, with a sheen of water left over from the steam clinging to his skin.
“Let’s get you to the table so we can eat.” he said, smiling and approaching the bed.
“What? No! You don’t have to… Don’t!” I protested as he picked me up, worried he’d see the dampness of my underwear.
Thankfully the position in which he picked me up and carried me allowed my thighs to hide the evidence of my arousal. Being held in his strong arms like this had a certain comforting effect that I hadn’t recalled feeling before. Warm, safe, womanly. It wasn’t helping the moisture between my legs go away.
My mind drifted back to the thoughts I was having earlier on the bed as he sat me down at the table and began preparing our breakfast. I don’t even remember what it looks like anymore. How long was it? How thick?
My eyes followed him, drinking in his form, as he darted about the kitchen and to and from the bedroom to dress before he put on the bacon. What did it feel like when he was inside me? What did it feel like as he emptied himself into my womb?
I mindlessly listened to him as he talked about his plans for the day after he comes home from work. How often did he make love to me? Once a month? Once a week? Certainly it was more often than that.
I absently answered questions I barely heard as he served me breakfast. My eyes darted down to his groin, the outline of his penis, now, disappointingly lost underneath his pants. Was I a screamer? I’m his wife. I bet he knows how to make me scream.
“Well, I hate to leave you here alone your first full day back, but I have a lot of work I still have to catch up on after spending so much time at the hospital with you.”
“Hmm? Oh, right, of course.” I staggered, having come out of my lustful thoughts. “Don’t feel like you have to rush back home early for me. I’m sure I can find plenty to keep me busy finding my way around again and trying to jog my memory.” I smiled as he got up and collected our plates.
“Well, just don’t risk straining yourself in any way. I’ll be back by six.”
“Have a good day at work.”
He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Something he’s slowly been reintroducing me to the past couple months. Still too removed from my memories and identity to be comfortable with anything more than these small kisses. I’ve been getting used to them, beginning to like them even.
As he walked out the door, I wondered…. What did his true kisses feel like?
- - - -
Two weeks later I finally got my cast off. It felt great to finally be allowed to walk without crutches, be able to lay down in a bath or stand in the shower without needing to worry about getting my leg wet.
It also meant I had the freedom to get out of the house without needing help from Eric or my parents to drive me places. Not to mention it’s been boring lying around the house all day while Eric’s at work. I couldn’t even clean properly with only one good leg to balance on.
It hasn’t all been dreary boredom since I left the hospital though. Every night Eric has made sure to come home early enough so that we could spend some quality time together. He’d tell me stories of our first dates together, anniversaries, holidays; all the special memories I’d forgotten and was curious to know. He even went out of his way to set up a few special romantic dinners at home. Romancing me all over again, he called it.
Tonight, he took me out to a romantic dinner for the first time since I’ve been home, in celebration of my cast coming off.
Every night before we went to our separate beds, well Eric his couch, he would cup my face in his hands and look into my eyes searching for the remnants of his wife and never finding her. Still, he would lean in and press his lips to mine. A passionate kiss, not a lover’s kiss, but not a gentle passive one either. Every few nights his tongue would press against my lips seeking entrance to my mouth and I would reluctantly deny him access. Our kiss would end and he would smile at me sadly, but love still shining in his eyes, and we would bid each other goodnight.
Tonight I allowed his tongue passage past my lips and returned his kiss with an equal passion. I’ve denied him so much for so long, and I couldn’t deny myself this simple pleasure any longer either. My body responded to him instantly, subconsciously knowing what it wanted from him, pressing my body against his, wrapping my arms and a leg around him. His hands roamed my body with one resting on a breast and the other my bottom. I could feel his erection straining against my stomach underneath his pants.
As his hand moved to unzip the back of my dress I grudgingly broke his lips from mine.
“Not yet, please. I’m not ready.” He cupped my face in his hand and looked at me lovingly.
“Of course, its alright. I’ll wait as long as I must.” I shivered when he said this, my sex adding more moisture to my already sodden underwear. I smiled in relief at his patience and understanding.
What kind of man would wait for his wife like this? He should be taking me back to our bed and ravishing me to his cock’s content instead of lying on that couch every night! My body wants him in ways I can’t even remember, but my brain is still too scared and uncomfortable with what’s happening to let it go any further. What kind of torture was I putting the both of us through?
We released each other and went to our separate rooms.
It was strange, living in the same house with a man I still barely knew, knowing our relationship was more than what it was and here he was willing to start from the beginning again. Rebuilding an intimacy that can only exist in a special bond between two people.
All for his wife. All for me.
But was I still the same woman I was before? Could I ever be that woman again? Would I still be worth all his efforts in the end?
“I hope so…” I whispered to no one as I fell asleep.
- - - - -
The following morning, after Eric left for work, I had a quick shower, dressed and headed out the door. I thought about calling my best friend, Sara, to come along with me today. She’s been a strong shoulder for me to lean on since my accident, and the only one of my supposed friends that has made the effort to see me and help in my recovery. I know she holds a few answers about mine and Eric’s relationship, and may be able to help me through what I have planned today; my sister Emily for that matter too. But I decided against it, believing that this is something I best do on my own.
I had been paying close attention to Eric’s stories of our relationship and the special places and events that have dotted our history together. I’d written every one that seemed significant down and today I planned on visiting each place that I could. I didn’t want anyone with me today in the fear that they would attempt to tell me their recollection of the stories surrounding each location, artificially recreating the memories for me. I wanted to remember on my own; let the impact of entering each place hit my memory full on, if it came at all.
My first stop was the museum; where Eric and I first met. Once inside I made my way for the Geology exhibit. Eric had been a volunteer here, answering questions and explaining the details to the curious public about the various objects on display. There was no such volunteer attending the exhibit today however.
I moved around the exhibit, inspecting the various gemstones on display, the enormous geode filled with amethyst, the model of the local river formations through time. Up on one wall was a computer screen giving real time alerts to earthquakes being registered by various seismographs around the country and showing where they’ve happened within the past month; all certainly too small to be felt by humans. I stopped at the next wall, filled with information about the regions geologic history, and read for a moment. “I’ll be happy to answer any questions…”
I turned toward the voice, but saw no one in the room with me. There! By the asteroid display, a shadow, a person, a face.
The image was gone just as suddenly as it had appeared. It likely was never there to begin with, my imagination that’s all. I want to remember so badly that my mind is seeing things that aren’t there. I lingered at the museum for a little while longer before leaving for my next destination.
The experience at the museum failed to repeat itself anywhere else. I returned home at the end of the day near 6 o’clock, frustrated and depressed. Eric wasn’t home yet.
I sat on my bed and opened up the photo album with our wedding and honeymoon photos. I’ve opened this book up countless times over the weeks since I’ve been home, hoping that some small memory would find its way back to me, to no avail.
But today... finally being able to actively hunt for my memories, my past; the thing that happened at the museum, if it was some small fragment of a memory maybe the album would pull something out now if the rocks were loose. I flip through page after page after page, each one revealing nothing, just like all the other times before. Tears began falling down my face as I went through the pictures again, more frantically this time.
“Anna? Anna what’s wrong?” Eric came in without my notice. I was crying hysterically at this point, the photo album still open in my lap. He wrapped me in his strong arms.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m trying, I swear, but I can’t! I’m so sorry.” I cried uncontrollably into his shoulder.
“What? What are you talking about? Anna, honey, what are you sorry for?”
“I can’t remember! I want to, but I can’t, I’m sorry!”
Eric consoled me for who knows how long as I continued crying in his arms and telling him about today’s unfruitful attempt to regain my memory. I must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing I remember is waking up the next morning tucked into bed.
The photo album was still left open on the nightstand to my right; pictures of our honeymoon stared back up at me. I held my gaze at the picture on the center right for a few moments, and then I knew what I needed to do.
- - - - -
Sweat is running down my neck and between my breasts as we reached the half way mark of our run. Both my sister, Sarah, and best friend, Jenna, have joined me in my near daily morning runs in the local park since I asked them to help me get back into shape those five months ago.
“Do you mind if I ask you guys some… personal questions?” I ask the girls as we run into a gazebo to sit down and get under some shade.
“Of course, you know you can always ask us anything.” says Sara.
“What do you want to know?” Jenna asks.
“Well, I was wondering, if maybe, I ever talked to you guys about my sex life with Eric?” I blushed.
They both gave each other a coy look before turning back to me, and Sara responded, “You could say that.”
“You were quite eager when it came to giving us details about your husband, young lady.”
They both broke out in laughter upon seeing my reaction, as my face turned red and buried my face in my hands.
“So does this mean your finally ready to have sex with that dear sweet husband of yours?” asked Jenna.
“I sure hope so. It will be a relief not to see him walking around with that giant boner of his every time the two of you are together. Its just too tempting.”
They exploded in another bout of laughter at that comment. I blushed some more and plowed on ahead with my questions.
“Actually, yes, it does. It’s been nearly six months since I was released from the hospital, and Eric’s planning a special night for it. Its just… well I don’t remember what its like. Sex, I mean. And I guess I’m a little worried about it. I want to and everything, its just I don’t want to ruin it by not knowing what he likes me to do and stuff. I want to be able to give him his wife back, and I was wondering; did I ever happen to tell you what he liked? Wanted me to do? Did I like it?”
“Anna, sweetie,” Sara began, “You can’t give him back his wife just by doing the things he likes in bed. And its alright to be nervous, I suppose this would be like your first time together since you don’t remember what its like. The best thing for you to do is to just be who you are right now.
Don’t worry about being the woman you were before the accident, the wife you were. I agree that its weird, but trying to be that woman right now will just get in the way of enjoying your time together with Eric. If and when you get your memories back, then
you can be that woman again. But right now you just have to be this new person that you are. I miss my sister, the sister that you were before, but I can still enjoy, do enjoy, getting to know this new sister that I have now and spending time with her. It’s the same thing with you and Eric.”
Sara took my hands in hers as I thought about everything she said to me. I had to agree that it did sound like the best advice I could have gotten. I shouldn’t preoccupy myself with being someone I don’t recall, it will just ruin the new experiences that Eric and I will have together.
“And by the way, you didn’t like sex,” Jenna commented suddenly, “You LOVED it!”
“JENNA!” Sara slapped her on the arm as Jenna placed her hands a little ways from each other in the air and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
“Oh come on Sara, the poor thing should know what she’s in for. If she doesn’t remember what sex is like then she doesn’t even know how big her husband is.”
“That’s not funny guys, stop laughing, besides how do you know how big he is? Did I tell you? He couldn’t be that big anyways.”
“Showed us, actually.”
“Let us sample him a few times you mean.”
“I think Jenna left off an inch to be honest.”
They were both giggling like schoolgirls as I looked at them both in astonishment, not believing that I had actually let my husband have sex with these two other women; Jenna now making a lewd gesture using her tongue inside her cheek moving in sync with her hand motion in front of her open mouth.
They were attractive to be sure, Sara with the same auburn hair and green eyes that we got from our mother, though her breasts were slightly smaller, they still filled out her shorter 5’ 2” frame nicely; and Jenna with her blond curls and brown eyes, on even height with me at 5’ 6” and a larger D cup bust. The rest of their bodies were firm and fit with all the exercise sessions they’ve been doing with me, though they had the added benefit of not having lost any muscle tone from months of lying in bed.
I had pressed them both about this extra marital bedroom activity and was surprised to learn that I apparently enjoyed having my sister and best friend in bed with me and my husband every now and again. I assumed I must have had a fairly kinky sex life, judging by what I had for bedroom attire, but this was simply too much. We sat talking about my forgotten sex life for another half hour before we got up to finish our run for the day and headed home.
That evening, before Eric got home, I contemplated about everything Sara and Jenna had told me. The thing that occupied my thoughts the most though was the length that Jenna had set her hands apart, alluding to my husband’s size. I didn’t admit anything to the girls about it, but over the past couple of months I’ve been having these dreams of me lying naked in bed with Eric hovering over me, also naked. I could never really see anything in the dream other than his face, but I could sense the presence of something between my legs as he positioned himself over me. I don’t know how or why but I knew that something was big, thick even, and I could sense my anticipation in having it near my nether region. Somehow, somewhere in my subconscious, my body still remembered Eric, remembered his cock and the things that he could do to me with it.
I thought it all just part of the dream when they first started. My bodies natural desires to be taken and ravished by a man, only amplified due to not having had sex in so long. Every night I dreamt about Eric making love to me, I could feel it touching my lips, waiting to pump deep inside of me. But every time I felt him thrust, just as his head parted my gates, I would wake up with sticky thighs and the sweet scent of my sex filling my nostrils. I had taken up my old habit of wearing nothing to bed just to save myself the trouble of needing to switch panties in the morning. After today though, I now knew that the dreams weren’t amplifying anything about what my husband has been keeping in his pants.
I stepped out of the shower and looked at my wet, naked form in the mirror after having wiped away the fog. The bruises had healed, a few did indeed leave some scars, though none too terrible, and my stomach had taken on a more flat and muscular tone to it than when I first arrived back home.
I grabbed my razor and some shaving gel and began to shave away the dark bush that had since grown out fully between my legs. I was going to wait a few more weeks for the celebratory dinner night for this, but I decided that I wasn’t going to spend one more night dreaming about my husband. I wanted the real thing. Our honeymoon pictures suggested I liked being bare down there, and I liked how I looked with a bare mound. Besides I wanted to give Eric at least some familiarity with my body for tonight.
I sat nervously, in my robe, for the next two hours waiting for Eric to come home from work, worrying and wondering how tonight would play out. Would it be too weird for him to make love to me without my memories? Could he accept me as this “different person” to be his lover? If I never get my memories back, could we still live a life together as husband and wife?
Just when I think the butterflies in my stomach can’t get any worse, Eric finally walked through the door in his gym clothes. I rush over to greet him, wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him a big welcome home kiss.
“Welcome home, honey.”
“Good to be home, especially if that’s the greeting I get.” he kissed me again, his hand moving down to cup my bottom. I encourage his touch by tightening my hold on him with my arms.
“Go to the gym after work again?” I ask when the kiss is ended.
“Yeah, got to keep up with you after all. Let me hop in the shower real quick so I won’t smell during dinner.”
I watch him exit toward the bedroom and as soon as he closes the bathroom door, I run to the bedroom taking off my robe and pull back the covers on the bed. I take one last look at myself in the mirror, wearing the sheer, white lace bra and thong I wore in the picture from our honeymoon. I climb into bed as I hear Eric turn the water off and wait for him to open the door.
“Oh, wow…” he stammers, as he walks out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel, his skin still glistening with water from the shower steam. His eyes roam over my nearly nude form, positioned seductively on the bed.
Slowly, I get up, walk over to him, my eyes never leaving his, wrap my arms around his torso and press my body to his as tightly as I can. “Make love to me.” I whisper, and gently kiss his lips.
“Are you sure? That you’re ready for this, I mean?” He asks as he cups my face in his right hand, his left hovering just over my bottom, caressing it.
“Please.” I beg, and I begin to tug away at the towel. “I need you.”
I see the hunger in his eyes turns to pure lust before he pulls me in for a kiss, a kiss I’ve yet to experience since waking up in the hospital. His towel falls to the ground and for the first time I feel his cock as he pulls me harder into him. I can feel its heat burning into my stomach, its hard, unyielding rigidness, sticky precum oozing out of the tip and smearing across my skin. Eric unclasps my bra and I shiver when I feel my bare nipples slide across his chest, causing me to dampen my thong further as my pussy fully flowers under my increased arousal. I whimper into Eric’s mouth as he picks me up and moves me back onto the bed.
“Oh my god…” I gasp as I finally see it for the first time. Its huge! Bigger than I could have thought possible. Surely it couldn’t fit. It was too thick. No, it will fit. It has before. I know it.
I cry out when Eric captures my right breast in his mouth, suckling like a hungry babe with his tongue lapping wildly at my nipple, adding little love bites to the mix of sensations. I place my hands on the back of his head and pull him closer to my breast, urging him to take more as he pulls down my thong and inserts a finger into my moist depths. I reach between our bodies and grasp his turgid member, guiding him between my legs.
“Please Eric. I need it, I need you. Hurry!”
“Are you ready?” he asks when he positions himself between my legs. I feel the head of his cock stretching my pussy lips, readying itself to ram deep inside of me.
I nod. Then I scream.
Just one strong, slow, blissful thrust is all it took. Full, I’ve never felt so full, never knew I could. Eric simply held himself inside of me, letting me get used to the feel of him, insuring I was ok, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as he nibbled and kissed my neck. Slowly he began to withdraw from my drenched center.
“NO! Leave it!” I protest, unable to bear the emptiness it left behind. I’m soon crying out in ecstasy again as he plunges himself back inside of me. I place my feet flat on the bed to give myself better leverage and thrust my hips up to meet his downward strokes, so eager I am to be impaled by his spear, only to have him nail me firmly back onto the mattress. So good.
Deep down, I know this is what I’ve been missing these past months. My body knew how to react to his without my thought, this is what it has been wanting, needing, craving. My body became an entity of its own, scratching, kicking, moaning screaming, all while my mind is left to do nothing but enjoy the ecstasy of our lovemaking.
I may never get my memories back, I may never again be the woman that I was, the wife that I was. But I’ll do whatever it takes to be as good as that woman was. I want to continue being Eric’s wife; I’ll marry him all over again if he wishes it. I want his babies growing inside of me. I don’t care what it takes; I want this man in my life forever, inside of me, in his arms, loving me every night.
“OH!! AH!!!! ”
My orgasm hit. My first that I can remember. Eric came soon after. The second I felt his searing, hot semen flooding inside of me it sent me into another orgasm more intense than the first, and it all came rushing back in a blinding flash of light.
All at once I was in the museum when we first met, Eric asking me out to dinner, our first date, first kiss, first time, when he proposed, our wedding, anniversaries, birthdays, vacations, Christmases, Valentines, even the moments just before the crash.
I must have blacked out for a little bit, because when I came back to Earth my throat was sore from screaming, tears were running down my eyes and Eric had a worried expression on his face asking me, “Are you alright? Anna, what’s wrong dear heart?”
“Nothing,” I smiled; then grabbing his head in my hands I kissed him all over his face, while breaking down crying and saying, “Nothing is wrong anymore. I’m back, I remember. You brought me back; your love brought me back. Oh, I love you, I love you, I love you. I remember, I remember.”
I nod still crying.
“Your remember!” He kissed me, muffling my sobs. “I missed you.”
We kissed, we embraced, we cried. Our tongues dueled each other for passage into the others mouth and I squeezed my overstuffed pussy around his still hard member as his arms pulled me tighter into his body, my breasts pressing against his chest and I let my mind relax and just enjoy the again familiar sensation of him possessing my body.
I cry out as he suddenly flips me over onto my stomach and positions my ass into the air. His hands grip my hips tightly and I feel his heavy, moist shaft press firmly between my cheeks as he bends over and whispers in my ear, “Again?”
“Oh god, fuck yes, please!” His cock slid slowly down my backside until I felt my nether lips kissing the base of his shaft on its way to where it belonged.
We were in for a long night of celebrating the return of my memories.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com
with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/straight-sex/amnesia-virgin-again.aspx">Amnesia - Virgin Again</a>