Ages of Flight - Cover

Ages of Flight

Copyright© 2018 by Cutlass

Chapter 6

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 6 - A young man is reunited with a childhood friend. Romance and airplanes - what else could a guy ask for?

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   First   Slow  

“Gil?”

I awoke with a start and sat up in my chair. The steady beep of the heart monitor sounded as I looked at Jo’s bed. She had rolled her head toward me, and her eyes were open. “Jo?” I stood and moved close to her. “Jo?”

She blinked. “Why am I in the hospital?”

I scrubbed at my cheek with the back of my hand, wiping away some of the tears. “We were in a bad car wreck, baby. I’m okay, but you were really hurt.” I gently touched her cheek. “You’ve been out for a week.”

“I’m really sore, all over.” She tried to raise her head, and groaned at the effort. “How bad am I?”

“The good news is you’re not paralyzed. Your right side took the impact, so your arm, leg and some ribs are broken on that side. The airbags helped, but you still had some brain injury.” I wiped away more tears, and tried to keep my voice steady. “We didn’t know if you’d wake up.”

Jo’s eyes widened. “Brain injury?”

I shook my head. “You’re a lot better now. It was mostly swelling from being rattled around in your skull.”

“Your bedside manner is terrible.” She lifted her left hand slightly, and smiled as I grasped it. “But I’m glad you’re still here.”

“I wouldn’t leave you here alone, Jo.”

“No, I meant that you are still able to be here.”

‘Oh, you’re awake!”

I turned to see the duty nurse in the doorway. “She just woke up, I think.”

“Mizz Jo, how do you feel?” She came around the bed to stand beside me. “I’m Carol, by the way.”

“I’m really sore, and I’m hungry,” Jo replied.

“I’ll see about getting you something to eat. If the pain gets to be too much, let me know. We have to be very careful with your head injury, but I’ll bring it up to the doctor.” Carol turned and left the room.

“You’ve been here the whole time?” Jo looked at me with concern.

“I go down to the cafeteria to eat, and they let me use the shower here in the room.” I shrugged. “It’s been better since they found me a recliner to sleep in.”

“I guess the businesses are fine, especially since we don’t actually manage them. What about our car?”

“It’s totaled. I borrowed one from the company pool until we can pick out a new one.”

Jo nodded. “So, what happened? The last thing I remember is signing some papers in our office.”

“We were hit from behind by a driver who was texting. She knocked us into the intersection, and another car hit right at your door. It was a small car, fortunately, but it was bad enough.”

“Oh, that sucks. Damn people can’t be bothered to pay attention.”

I took a breath. “About that. The driver was a seventeen year old girl driving her father’s pickup on an errand. She had the phone up like this,” I pantomimed holding a phone at chest level, “and the airbag smashed it into her lower face.”

“Oh, no,” Jo breathed.

“The impact broke her left wrist and her thumb, and shattered her jaw. Her mother came by yesterday to see how you were doing, and she told me what had happened. The girl is devastated, both by her own injuries, and by how badly you were hurt.”

“That was good of the mother to check in on me. I’m a little surprised.”

“The girl’s parents are both police officers, and the mother responded to the scene, only to find out it was her daughter.”

“That’s terrible! Maybe you should tell them that I’m awake.”

“She’s right down the hall in the specialty orthopedics unit. I’ll go talk to them later.”

I stood by Jo’s bed, holding her hand as we talked. She asked more about the crash, and I filled in the details. A few minutes later, a nurse’s assistant came in with a meal. While Jo was eating, I took the opportunity to get a meal in the hospital cafeteria.

I stepped off the elevator and made my way to the cafeteria. I selected a sandwich, a bag of chips, and a soft drink, paid for it, and turned to leave. Then, I noticed that the mother of the girl who’d hit us was standing behind me in line. She smiled wanly and moved up to pay for her own meal. “How is your daughter?” I asked as she turned back to face me.

“Depressed. She barely wants to eat, especially since she can only take liquids. All she talks, well, texts, about is the accident.” She sighed. “How is your wife?”

“Actually, Jo’s awake,” I said with a smile. “She’s doing a lot better.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news! I’ll tell Kaitlin.”

“I’m going back up if you want to walk with me.”

“Sure.”

We rode the elevator in companionable silence, and stepped out into the hallway. The woman stopped as she reached her daughter’s room. “I’d like to come by in a while, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course,” I said. She went into the room, and I continued to Jo’s room. She was done with her meal, and she smiled at me and my meal.

“I’m sorry that you’re having to eat cafeteria food.”

“Your concern and sympathy is noted,” I grinned at her. “It’s not bad, though.” I sat down, arranged the food on a small tray, and ate while Jo and I conversed about what we would do after she left the hospital.

A short while later, a soft knock sounded at the open door. “Come in,” Jo called out.

The girl’s mother took a step into the room. “I’m Theresa Hartman. My daughter Kaitlin was driving the truck that hit you from behind.”

“I’m Jo Hickman. Come in, please. I’d offer you a chair, but...” she shrugged apologetically.

“No, that’s okay. I, uh, wondered if you’d be willing to see Kaitlin. She’s struggling mentally, and maybe you could talk to her.” Theresa’s face was a mixture of apprehension and hopeful supplication.

Jo nodded. “Of course. She can come when she’s ready.”

Theresa nodded. “Thank you. I need to get back to her.”

“I’m glad to help,” Jo replied.

“Thank you,” she repeated as she slipped out the door and down the hall.

I sat with Jo until dinner time; our conversation moved from one subject to the next, as she would doze off for a few minutes at a time, sometimes in the middle of a sentence. The evening shift nurse brought her food, and I went back to the cafeteria for my own meal.

The night and the following morning passed quietly, and I decided to go out of the hospital for lunch, since Jo was asleep. When I returned to Jo’s room, I found two doctors conversing at the foot of her bed, and two nurses attending Jo. “What’s going on?” I asked as I stepped in the doorway.

Her primary doctor turned to me. “Mister Hickman, Jo has an infection, which does sometimes happen after surgery. Her temperature is up, and she was not very responsive when we tried to wake her for lunch.”

“Can I stay with her?”

“For today, I’d rather you not. We will see about tomorrow, and you will be required to wear at least a mask and gloves.”

“How bad is the infection?”

“That is what we are still trying to determine. I’m sorry that I don’t have better answers for you right now. Tomorrow, we will know more.” The doctor sighed. “Look, go get some rest. We will inform you of any changes.”

“I need to get my pack,” I said.

The doctor nodded, and I gathered my belongings. Stepping close to the bed, I spoke to Jo. “I love you, Jo. Keep fighting and I will check on you in the morning.” With that, I quickly stepped into the hallway before I began to tear up.

A woman in a city patrolman’s uniform was walking toward me, and I recognized Kaitlin’s mother. Her smile faded as she read my expression. “Mister Hickman?”

I stopped and took a breath to compose myself. “My wife is being treated for an infection. They will know more tomorrow.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. You’re coming back in the morning?”

“Yes,” I said with a nod.

“I’ll not keep you, then. Good night.”

“Good night.” I walked out of the hospital and drove home to our empty house.

The next morning, I rose early, drove to get a quick meal, and fought rush hour traffic to arrive at the hospital. I arrived at Jo’s room, only to find her gone. I turned and walked the few steps to the nurse’s station.

“Good morning, sir,” a nurse I hadn’t seen before greeted me.

“Hello, I’m Josephine Hickman’s husband. Her room was right there,” I pointed. “Have they moved her?”

The nurse checked her computer screen. “Yes, she was taken to Intensive Care an hour ago. It’s two floors up by the East elevators.” She pointed to her left down the hall.

My heart dropped, and I swallowed my fear. “Thank you.” I hurried up the hall, and rode the elevator to the ICU floor. When I arrived, I identified myself at the nurse’s station, where I was directed to a small waiting room.

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