Chapter 1: There is No News Like Bad News
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, First, Slow, School, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1: There is No News Like Bad News - Finding out that he only had six months to live was the best thing that ever happened to Martin.
"This is the end, Beautiful friend
This is the end, My only friend, the end"
- The End (The Doors)
It struck me harder than any sledgehammer could have. At first I could not really believe what I had heard, but he had no reason to lie. My mouth was dry in fear and I just sat there staring into the wall. I did not stare at the diplomas or photograph on the wall, I just stared. I don't know how long I kept doing it, it could have been a minute or it could have been an hour. When I finally snapped out of it I managed to gather the courage to get confirmation.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"There is no doubt. You could get an second opinion but the results will be the same," the middle aged Doctor answered.
"Six months, perhaps even a year if you receive the proper treatment and live a healthy life style," Dr Gore answered.
"I've always had a healthy lifestyle, but that hardly matters now does it?" I answered trying to make a joke out of it. neither of us found it particularly funny.
"The abdominal pain you are feeling will soon come to pass but in a couple of months the pain will kick in again. This time much worse and after that your condition will deteriorate rapidly. Shortly after that your body will become weaker and you will eventually become bedridden. There are medication that will slow down the process and I will prescribe them. They are quite expensive but your medical insurance will cover them. I will also give you a strong painkillers to keep the pain away," Dr Gore said as he scribbled on a notepad.
"Is there anything I should be thinking of?" I asked trying to keep my composure.
"No, for the next couple of months you can live a perfectly normal life. Just take your pills three times a day and I want to see you once a week for a check up. I will also book a time for you with our counsellor so you can have someone to talk to," Dr Gore said and I simply nodded in reply.
The doctor handed me the prescription and some bottle of pills. After that he looked me in the eyes, shook my hand and said, "Don't worry son. A year is plenty of time to settle your affairs and say your good byes."
I turned around and left Dr. Gores office. I wanted to scream my heart out but I was simply to shook up to do it. I was 21 years old and had just been notified that I was terminally ill. I had six months, perhaps a year to live. I had always lived a healthy and quiet life style, I never drank, I never smoked, I ate healthy food and I did not even have a drivers licence since I thought driving was to dangerous. I always kind of reckoned that I would die of old age.
I started to walk home and started to think what Dr. Gore had said when we parted. That I had plenty of time to settle my affairs and say my good byes. That sentence had hurt me a lot since I had no one to say good bye to. I had always been a bit of a shy recluse and I did not have any friends at all. This was partly my own decision since I liked being alone and felt that I had no need for friend. I had been close with my parents but after they died two years ago in a accident I had hardly spoken to anyone. I spent all my time studying law, getting near perfect grades and hoping to get a good job in the future. That hardly mattered now. In fact nothing in my life mattered any more. Perhaps it was a good thing that this happened to me and nobody else since no one will miss me when I'm gone. I started thinking that I could save the insurance company some money by committing suicide, but I quickly realised that my catholic mother would turn over in her grave if I committed that sin.
I looked up and saw that I was passing a bar and decided that this was a good time to start drinking. I went inside the bar and it was almost empty this time of day. I seated myself on a bar stool and tried to look inconspicuous. I had never had a glass of alcohol in my life, not because of religion or because I was not curious but because it was bad for you. I never did stuff that was bad. My mother had even called me her virtuous angel. Throughout my life I had always lived by the maxim that good things come to those who wait. There were hardly any more reason for me to wait anymore.
I looked behind the bar and saw what seemed like a hundred different bottles. I had not any idea of what to order but since I always liked those Humphrey Bogart movies I decided to order a whiskey.
"A double whiskey and keep it nasty," I said with an unintentional Bogart imitation.
The bartender poured the whiskey without even asking for my ID. I pulled up a pile of cash from my pocket and threw it at the counter. There was a hefty tip there but I had inherited a substantial amount of money from my parents so I could afford it. Besides it was not like I was going to need it in the future.
I grabbed the glass and smelled the whiskey. It had kind of a strong smell but it did not smell as unpleasant as had thought it would. I could feel my hands shaking a bit from being nervous. Then I realised that there were nothing to be afraid of, I was dead anyway. I quickly gulped the glass down and I could feel the whiskey burning in my throat. The taste was not that terrible but I could not grasp the attraction with it. I was about to get up and leave the bar when I thought "In for a penny, in for a pound."
I put my hands in my pocket and pulled up more some more money. I turned to the bartender and said, "A tequila and a packet of cigarettes."
After that my memory gets a bit blurry and fragmented. I remember ordering every type of alcohol I could remember and that I was having a hard time sitting on the bar stool since the room was spinning around. I don't remember it but I have been told afterwards that I started shouting and threatening the bartender when he refused to serve me anything more. This led me to be literally thrown out on the street. All of this surprises me since I had never been a violent or aggressive type but with all that was happening to me that day I must have flipped.
I don't know how long I sat on the street outside the bar but I clearly remember throwing up a couple of times. I know I fell asleep because I clearly remember waking up. It was dark then and I had started to sober up a bit so I started to walk towards my apartment. It was a nice apartment and close to school but it was not very cheap. There were other students that lived in the same buildings, but they all shared it with at least one roommate. I had the money so I lived alone.
I realised that I was having a hard time walking straight and I had to sit down for a minute. These problems were not solely because the alcohol I also seemed to have lost my glasses somewhere without realising it.
I heard a car stop and drop someone off. The person walked towards me and I looked up. I saw a female face that seemed familiar but in my condition I could not identify the person.
"Martin Yukowskij, is that you?" a young female voice asked.
"Yep." I answered trying to look sober. I was apparently not doing a good job because she kneeled down towards me.
"My god, what happened to you?"
"I think it's called being intoxicated," I answered with a voice that gave no doubt to that I was drunk.
"I can't leave you here. Something could happen to you. Where do you live?" she asked.
I think I gave her my address because then she said, "I can't carry you that far. My roommate haven't come back from summer vacation yet, so if you would like to you can crash in her bed."
I still had no idea who this woman was or why she was being so nice to me, but I was sober enough to realise that lying on the street was a bad thing so I accepted her invitation. She helped me to my feet and took me up to her apartment. Luckily she lived on the bottom floor so it wasn't that hard to get me inside. She threw me onto her roommates bed and removed my shoes. She then went and got a bucket and put it beside the bed.
"If you get the urge to throw up, do it in the bucket. We'll talk tomorrow, when you're sober," she said.
Even though I was drunk I was embarrassed by being pampered by this woman. I was tired though so that did not stop me from falling asleep.