Can You See Me Now? - Cover

Can You See Me Now?

Copyright© 2014 by Lubrican

Chapter 20

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 20 - Riley read an article about how much privacy we've lost, and how much satellites could see. She was sure nobody would ever actually spy on her as she lay out in her yard, catching some rays in her bikini. But the whole satellite thing made her mad so she protested. That protest was in the form of a sheet stapled to her roof that said "Hey NSA. Can you see me now?" It was a joke, really. But that joke changed her life, because somebody DID see it.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Masturbation   Pregnancy   Slow  

There would have been more talk then, except Riley suddenly looked at her watch and yelped that she was late getting Curtis from Bessie's. Bob said he'd go get him, and for her to calm down.

Bob called Bessie and asked her if he needed to bring the car, which would be quicker, or if he could walk. She said, "Walk. We're having fun watching a DVD."

Riley said she'd start supper and he left to walk up the road. It was a cold, clear day, the kind of brisk sunny days they never seemed to have had back East, while he was there. The snow had partially melted and then frozen over again, which meant it held his weight for about half a step, and then he crunched through it. It was surprisingly hard work to walk that way, so he eventually went to one of the flat places in the road, where Bessie's car had crushed the snow and made tracks.

He knew Bessie well enough by now that he just walked on in when he got there. She and Curtis were curled up on the couch with a quilt draped over them. They were watching something that looked vaguely Persian, in terms of the way the cartoon characters were dressed, and the architecture of the buildings. Bessie looked up at him.

"Aladdin's about to open a hole in the ground," she said.

"I thought it was a cave," said Bob, sitting down.

"Not in this version," she said.

Bob watched as a colored whirlwind lifted a square block of what looked suspiciously like concrete from where it was embedded in the ground, revealing a hole in the ground, with a staircase leading down into the earth.

"That looks scary," commented Curtis.

"Then we'll stop here," said Bessie. "It's time for you to go home anyway. You've worn an old woman out today."

"You're not old," said Curtis.

"I'm not, huh?

"Not as old as Bob. He's ancient!" piped the youngster.

Bessie, who was well into her seventieth year, laughed.

"Kids," she said, slapping her knee. "They sure will keep you young."

"You think so?" asked Bob.

"They do when you can send them home," she laughed.

"Sorry we were late," said Bob. "Something came up."

"I just bet it did," said Bessie, beaming. "You young folks are lucky that things keep coming up." She winked and Bob was amazed to feel his face heat up.

"You ready to go, Tiger?" he asked Curtis.

"Yup," said the little boy. He was already in his coat, zipped up and standing by the door. "I'm still not a tiger, but I don't mind you calling me that. Tigers are ferocious!" He growled and made his fingers into claws.

"Kids!" cackled Bessie. "You just gotta love 'em."


When they walked in the door, Riley was rolling what looked like pie dough out on the counter. It turned out to be home made noodles. There was a still-frozen chicken sitting in a pan of water in the sink.

"Hey," she said. "I need garlic pepper for the soup. Can you run get me some?"

"Can Curtis come with me?" asked Bob.

"Yay!" yelled Curtis.

"There might be robbers, and I need him to protect me," Bob continued.

"Robbers?" Curtis suddenly didn't sound so excited.

"He's teasing you," said Riley. "Go with him and make sure he doesn't break the speed limit, okay?"

"Okay," said Curtis, ready to go again.

It only took them half an hour to drive to the store. Bob picked up a few extra things in addition to the garlic pepper, and displayed them proudly when he got back. Riley was cutting apart the chicken, which she had thawed by a combination soaking it in hot water and microwaving it.

"I got green olives," he said, proudly, holding up the family sized bottle.

"I like black olives," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"And cottage cheese," he said, pulling the tub out of the sack.

"Oooo, large curd. I like your style," she said.

"And the pièce de résistance," he said, reaching into the bag. He pulled out a half gallon of one percent chocolate milk.

"You just got yourself laid," she whispered. "Open it!"

He did and, as if they had been doing this for years, he held it to her lips while she drank straight from the plastic bottle. Then he took a swig himself.

"Nectar of the gods," he sighed.

"You got that right," she said, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand. That didn't work out well, because her entire hand was covered with the juices of the barely thawed chicken she'd been cutting up.

The chicken noodle soup was good ... but eight hours later Riley was throwing up uncontrollably with what would later be diagnosed as a bad case of salmonella poisoning ... from wiping her mouth with a contaminated hand.


It started when she bolted from bed, and barely made it to the bathroom, where she sat and vomited noisily into the toilet. Bob sat up in bed.

"You okay?" he called. "Morning sickness?"

"No," she gasped. "This is different." She puked again, in that way that made it clear her entire stomach was trying to come up. Then she had to grab the wastebasket to vomit in, because she had to sit on the stool to vent the sudden diarrhea she was stricken with.

He got up and turned the light on. He wanted to go in and see if he could do something for her, but he knew she'd be embarrassed if he did. He waited until she walked shakily out of the room, wiping her mouth with a washcloth.

He went to hug her and was shocked at how hot her skin was. She sat on the edge of the bed and he went to the medicine cabinet and poked around in it. He found what looked a little like the thermometers they used in a hospital and played with it, trying to figure out how it worked. The box it came in had little plastic sleeves that fit over what was clearly an earpiece and he tried it on himself. His temperature, according to the device, was 97.

She passed him in a lurching run, just making it to the wastebasket as she sat on the stool. The unmistakable wet sounds of diarrhea accompanied her retching. He could see that her stomach was empty, as only drips of bile left her mouth, but her other end more than made up for it as what was in her colon rushed out. He knelt beside her and, holding her long hair back with one hand, pushed the thermometer against her ear with the other.

It read 104 when he looked at it.

"You're burning up," he said. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"We can't leave Curtis here," she gasped, between stomach wrenching lurches over the wastebasket.

"Then I'm calling an ambulance," he said. "This could hurt the baby."

She tried to argue, but he left her there and got on the phone to dial 911. When he got back, she was lying on her side on the floor.

"Hey," he said, getting down to help her sit back up.

"I'm so tired," she said, her head lolling.

She suddenly came to life and grasping hands reached for the toilet seat. She got her mouth barely over the seat as her stomach lurched, but nothing came out. Her body looked like it might be having a seizure.

He didn't know what to do, but she didn't look comfortable on the floor. Her attempts to vomit weren't producing anything, so he suggested she lie down on the bed again. She shook her head, and sat down on the stool, doubling over and holding her stomach as cramps assailed her. He got another washcloth and soaked it under the cold water tap. He wiped it over her back and arms.

"The ambulance is on the way," he said. She was naked, as usual, so he went to her dresser and found a T shirt he remembered was long enough that it covered her hips. He took it to her and tried to get her to put it on.

"Ohhhh, Bob," she groaned. "I don't feel so good."

"I know, baby. Help is on the way," he said.

Hearing a siren approaching, he went to the door and opened it as an ambulance pulled up in front of the house, in the middle of the road. He waved to them and motioned for them to come in. Then he turned back into the house to find Curtis standing there, rubbing his eyes and asking what was happening.

"Your mom is sick," he said, as a female ambulance attendant came in. Bob pointed toward the bedroom and then looked back at Curtis. "But she's going to be okay. They're just going to take her to the hospital and fix her up."

"Can we go too?" asked the boy, sounding scared.

"Sure," said Bob. "But not in the ambulance. That's just for your mother. We'll drive over there in the car, okay?"

"Okay."

"Why don't you go get dressed to go to town with me," said Bob.

It wasn't until the male ambulance attendant came into the room, carrying all manner of bags and equipment, that Bob realized he was also stark naked.

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