It's funny how life works out sometimes. One week things are normal. The next week, chaos. And the week after that, normal gets a new definition.

One evening I was sitting on the couch watching the 6 o'clock news. It had been a long day at work. Nothing had gone right, and I was relaxing with a well-deserved beer.

The news was the usual bad stuff. More violence in Baghdad, rising tensions between the Israelis and Palestinians, Democrats and Republicans at each others' throats. And the media only too glad to show it all to us. As if nothing good ever happened. Just what I needed after a crummy day down at the brain-drain.

I heard the garage door opening and I brightened up right away. My wife, the love of my life was home. Maybe she'd want to fool around before dinner, or after dinner. Or maybe we'd forego dinner and have a supper of a different kind. I smiled in anticipation of something finally going my way today.

The door opened and I heard the comforting noises she always made when she came home. The sounds of the packages she was carrying, the swishing as her briefcase rubbed against her leg, the rustling of her clothes and the click of her shoes as she walked down the hallway to the family room at the back of the house.

But suddenly the sounds weren't so familiar. The clicks of her heels not so even and regular, the rustling and rubbing no longer rhythmic and comforting. Then a couple of thumps. A group of small thumps, like a swarm of tiny earthquakes, followed by a much louder thump, more like a thwack, actually. Like something hard hitting something even harder. It all happened so fast.

I jumped up and ran towards the thumps, which had stopped thumping and were ominously quiet. The whole thing couldn't have lasted more than two seconds, from when the thumps thumped, to when they stopped, to when I reached the still form of my wife on the hallway floor.

Her eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. I fought the urge to look in that direction, because somehow I knew her eyes weren't seeing anything. There was no sign of breathing, no pulse either from her neck or wrist. Her packages, briefcase, and purse were all on the floor next to her, all standing perfectly upright as if she had placed them there carefully on purpose.

The next hours were like a blur in my memory. I must have called 911 or something because the paramedics arrived. They pushed and prodded, poked her with drips. They tore her blouse open and started CPR. A tube was shoved down her throat and oxygen forced into her. But I knew it was all useless attempts. She'd been dead when she hit the floor, probably even before that.

I knew she was dead, but it still bothered me when the paramedic pulled out his walkie-talkie and announced into it very matter-of-factly that the patient was dead. He said "code" something-or- other, not the actual word "dead," but I was just too far out in my blurry space place to remember his exact words.

But it bothered me when he said it. Actually it was the way he said it. Like it was all in a day's work. And pretty soon he'd be heading home and kicking back with a beer like I had done. Except his wife wouldn't die in a thump on the floor. And he wouldn't have to hear a stranger say to someone he couldn't see that the love of his life, his reason for living wasn't living any more.

And the next days were a blur, too. One day I was having a normal life and then the next day my sister-in-law was there. Not normal. She never came to our house, mostly because I told me wife I never wanted to see her sister again. But there she was anyway. And then I'd come back to reality for a few horrid seconds. Yeah, I'd say to myself. She's here because my wife is dead.

And then there were a whole group of people coming in and out of my house. Some I knew, some I didn't. They were saying things to me I wasn't hearing, grabbing my hands, kissing my cheeks, smelling too strongly of something, then, thankfully leaving. I remember wondering if someone had told anyone not to let the cats out. My wife loved those little babies, and she'd be so sad if any of them got out and got lost, or worse.

I have clear recollections that my sister-in-law came to take me to the memorial service, although I didn't see where we were going. She took me inside, holding me as if I would fall. Some guy said a few words, then more people one by one said more words. At one point everyone was looking at me. I learned later that they thought I might have wanted to say some words myself. But I wasn't me then. I was an unfocused shell. And maybe if you held me up to your ear you could hear the ocean roar.

Somehow I ended up with a vase and back in my sister-in-law's truck, and then back home. I remember the darkness, and blessed sleep, and one of those smells again.

It was the next morning, I think. Well, it must have been the next morning because I don't remember any other mornings, although there could have been more and I just didn't remember them. Whichever morning it was, I woke up to that same smell I had in my nose when sleep overcame me so blissfully, taking me away to a more sane place. Because this world certainly wasn't happening in a sane way lately.

On this particular morning I could smell something. It wasn't bad or anything, just unusual. But I knew it was perfume or cologne. Funny, because I never wore any, and neither did my wife, and she was dead. Yet somehow it was familiar. That's when it hit me, and I awakened from my blur.

"Holy shit, Ruby," I yelled. Well, kind of yelled. More like said loudly with extra emphasis. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I didn't want to leave you. You weren't yourself. It was like your outside was there but the inside wasn't."

I had to admit that that was probably a pretty accurate description of what I had been going through. I laughed a little to myself. That's when I noticed I wasn't wearing anything.

"Did I take my clothes off, or did you?"

"I did. And it was hard too. You sure didn't make it easy at all. You were limp like a rag doll. It took forever to get your pants off."

Ruby, my idiot sister-in-law rolled over to face me. That's when I noticed she wasn't wearing anything, either.

"Fuck, Ruby. What's going on here? You take advantage of your poor brother-in-law's emotional state or something?"

"Hah, you wish!"

"Well why don't you just tell me, then, what exactly happened? It was last night, wasn't it?"

"Yeah. I brought you in and you just basically plopped down and sat like you were a zombie or something. It took a lot of pulling and pleading to get you upstairs and onto the bed. Then a lot more pulling to get your clothes off and under the covers."

"Well, you didn't have to take everything off, did you?"

"Mary told me [Note: Mary was my now-dead wife] you always slept in the nude, so I figured you'd be more comfortable that way."

"Ok, fair enough. That explains my condition. Now what about yours?"

"I never wear anything to bed, either."

"But why sleep here? There's a perfectly good guest bedroom down the hallway."

"I already told you. I didn't want to leave you alone. You should have seen yourself. I was worried."

"I suppose I should thank you for taking such good care of me."

"You don't have to thank me. That's what family is for."

All the time we were talking, if that's what we were doing, and not fighting like usual, I was getting a pretty good gander at Ruby's breasts and lower stomach. They weren't as big as Mary's, but still fair-sized. And they had a different shape, rounder with puffier nipples with more of a light beige hue to them. They alternated between shrunken and wrinkled, and relaxed and, well, huge discs on the fronts of her mounds.

Her stomach was flat, made that way from all the years of working on her horse ranch. I could just barely see the top of her pubic fluff as it came into view and disappeared again between the folds of the sheets. All in all, Ruby was making no attempts to cover herself.

And no doubt she was getting an unencumbered view of me, too. And had gotten a pretty good view last night when she took my clothes off. My penis was piss hard when I first woke up and came to my senses. But it had since wilted into its current semi-rigid condition. I did, after all, need to take a leak at some point, sooner rather than later. If truth be known, I wasn't attempting to cover myself, either.

I lay down on my back and stared at the ceiling.

"She's dead, Ruby," I muttered, the reality suddenly hitting me. I could feel the heat of tears forming at the corners of my eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Ruby said softly.

She put her hand on my forearm as it draped across my stomach, and put her head on my shoulder. I could feel the wet warmth of her tears as they dripped onto my skin. She began to shake a little and I reached for her, wrapping my arms around her. We kind of melted together somehow, not in a sexual way, but in the way people do when they need someone to hold onto, and to hold onto them. The kind of holding that brings a sense of comfort and safety when it seems that life is anything but that.

My tears came freely after that, and it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't cried at all for Mary. Well, I was crying now. We both were.

We must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew the sun was streaming through the window, something it never did unless it was late morning. Ruby and I were wrapped, more like tangled together. I couldn't tell where her legs and arms began and mine ended.

The sheet had been kicked off, and the way the sun shone on our enmeshed bodies made our skin glisten like gold. I could feel Ruby's nipples poking into my chest. Her face was buried in my neck and I could feel her gentle breathing as it tickled my flesh. My penis, hard with morning urges, was trapped between us. I could feel it on her stomach and she inhaled and exhaled. And with each intake of her breath, her stomach put pressure on my penis and made it jump just a little bit.

"Mmmmmm," Ruby's sleepy muffled lips murmured.

I knew she was still asleep and that was a sleep noise. Or that's what I was telling myself, anyway.

The sun was getting hot, and I really needed to piss something fierce. But I didn't want to disturb the moment. It was sweet, and we both needed a little comfort. So I decided to lie still for a while longer and let Ruby wake up when she was ready.

Maybe I should tell you a little about my relationship with Ruby before I continue my story. She was Mary's younger sister by 16 years. Their mother had accidentally gotten pregnant only 2 years before Mary was to graduate from high school. So Ruby had grown up pretty much all by herself.

They had 2 other siblings, another sister 3 years older than Mary, and a brother 5 years older than Mary. That would make them 19 and 21 years, respectively, older than Ruby.

Ruby was a bit of a hothead and also a bit of a flake. She herself had gotten accidentally pregnant just out of high school. That's when I first met her. She came to our house with her baby, having no idea how to care for herself, much less the kid. To her credit, she did a pretty good job raising the boy until he himself graduated from high school and moved out.

But I never cared for how she ran her life, and how she always seemed to expect us to somehow pitch in and help her. Actually, more like subsidize her. She always had some kind of scheme going with her horses, wanting money from us for one thing or another. I'd finally had enough of it and told Mary that Ruby could come by the house, but only if I wasn't there. And under no circumstances was she, Mary, to give any money to Ruby for any reason whatsoever.

Consequently, I hadn't seen Ruby for several years, the last time being when their mother died a few years previously.

Ruby had gotten married to a complete slacker, a guy who immortalized Che Guevara, of all people. I met him once, and he was an angry person, angry at the world and anyone who didn't believe what he believed. He was a drifter who found someone to latch onto for awhile. And when Ruby had had enough of him, he wouldn't lift a finger to help around the farm, Ruby kicked him out. She divorced him in absentia. But that had been a few years before. Actually, I couldn't remember exactly when that was.

I never heard much about Ruby since then. But all of a sudden here she was. I realized how grateful I was to her for taking care of me since Mary died. I hadn't been in any condition to take care of myself. She'd been very nice to me, at least as much of the past few days as I could remember. She seemed different somehow. Like she didn't want anything from me, instead giving of herself.

It was so quiet as we laid there intertwined. So still and peaceful. I really didn't want to disturb the reverie of the moment. Ruby's skin felt so good against me, her soft breathing gentle on my neck where her head was nuzzled into me.

My penis, rock hard with morning wood, lay between us, fully up against Ruby's lower abdomen. And when she inhaled, I could feel her pubic hair softly tickling my balls.

But I had to go bad. And I knew I had to get up and take a leak right away. Ever so slowly I extricated myself from Ruby's embrace and slipped off the bed, padding as noiselessly as I could into the bathroom. The light was off and there were no windows, so it was dark. I didn't want to be blinded if I turned the light on, and there's no way I could have aimed my hard-on accurately without being able to see it. So I plopped down on the seat, scooted by butt back, angled my penis down, and let go, hoping I wouldn't piss all over the seat or have any urine escape out onto the floor.

"Damn, that feels good!" I whispered to myself.

Sometimes a good piss is better than just about anything else. A friend of mine once said that the best piece of ass he'd ever had wasn't worth more than a dime. When I asked why, he responded that the best money he ever spent was the 10 cents it cost to get into a pay toilet. And the subsequent leak was such a great relief and feeling that he judged everything by that.

And this morning's piss really felt good, although I'm not sure it was better than the best fuck I'd ever had.

My now-softened and relived penis and I crept back into the bedroom. Ruby was still asleep, still in the same position as I had left her in.

"She's prettier than I remembered," I thought to myself, wondering why I never noticed it before.

Her stomach and abdomen was rising and falling gently with her breathing. Her breasts were hanging gracefully towards the sheets, the soft curvature looking a little like rolling hills. The sun on her skin gave her an almost blinding glow. Her nipples were so light beige I could hardly see them in the light.

It was a gorgeous morning and I stepped over to the window to take in the view. The warmth of the sun felt good on my skin. When I pulled the sash up, the breeze coming in almost gave me a chill. Hot and cold at the same time. It was an erotic effect and I felt my penis begin to stir. Only a moment later, it was back to full hardness, pointing out the window into the lushness of the back yard.

"Good morning," I head Ruby's voice behind me, the sheet rustling as she was presumably starting to stretch out the night's stiffness. I was reluctant to turn around to face her; my penis was so hard and straight.

"Good morning," I said without moving.

"How are you this morning? Did you sleep OK?"

"Yes, I slept pretty darn good, given what I've been through the past few days."

"Maybe you needed it."

"Yeah, I guess I did," I replied.

I heard Ruby get out of the bed and work her way up behind me. She wrapped her arms around me, her nipples poking me tenderly in the back, her fingers interlacing just above my navel. She rested her chin on my shoulder.

"I was so worried about you," she said softly. "Sometimes it was like you weren't even there."

"I'm OK, now, I think. And I have you to thank for taking care of me. I know it couldn't have been easy."

"Actually, you were not as hard to deal with as you think you were. Besides, I enjoyed being here to help you. It's the least I could have done after all the years of problems I know I caused you and Mary. I'm really sorry for that, you know."

"It's OK, Ruby. Don't worry about it."

I put my hands over hers, pressing my palms on the backs of her hands. They were warm and soft and felt good on my stomach. I realized that my penis was only a few inches below.

Ruby turned her hands around and grasped mine. We laced our fingers together. In the process, our hands dropped a little to where they were just touching my pubic thatch. Ruby began to stroke my hair softly, pushing a couple of fingers through the tangle. My penis pulsed up and down a couple of times, as if it had a will of its own.

I closed my eyes to revel in the warmth of her erotic touch. I felt her turn her head to rest her cheek on my back. Her breath started to quicken a little, as did mine.

With each push of her fingers in my pubic hair, Ruby got closer and closer to the base of my penis. And when a fingertip finally grazed it, it jumped uncontrollably, slapping against the back of her hand.

She grabbed the shaft and started stroking gently up and down it, her other hand slid down to cup my balls, now feeling very full and ready to deliver their viscous cream. I hadn't realized how horny I was.