It was extremely quiet. The lights in the hall way of the hospital were dimmed a bit. Ruth Ann Newell sat and, for the thousandth time, regarded her uncle, small now and a bit shrunken on the bed. There were no tears now. The tears had been shed in abundance, once she realized that the stroke that he'd had was irreversible. She knew that the tears would come again but now it was time to keep the vigil, this vigil for Uncle Mike.
She realized that she'd not taken any opportunity to eat anything but wasn't sure if she was hungry at all either. She simply vowed to think about it.
"This is going to be difficult without his advice," she said to herself.
Her Uncle Mike had taken her in, when her parents were killed, had raised her, educated her, and brought her into his business. Gradually through the years, she'd taken over the business herself, and ran it more and more completely. The business was doing well; Uncle Mike wasn't, and that was the long and short of her situation.
At times she spoke to herself about turning 40 with no prospects of a man. But the business kept her so occupied that she didn't worry very much about her supposed 'love life'. Brief flings in college, a few dates, when she was a younger woman, and the occasional married man looking for a 'piece on the side', a thing that she vowed she'd never be, an invitation that she'd never give in to.
She was, she thought, fairly content with her lot, and managed it by simply not giving it much thought. It was on her mind now only because she had time now to do nothing but think and keep this long, lonely vigil with Uncle Mike.
But she knew, knew down deep that if it were her in the bed, incapacitated and, in reality, dying, Uncle Mike would never stir from her side. So, the vigil was hers to keep, and keep it she did.
She was at that moment a bit upset because she'd spilled some tea on her skirt and was trying to wash it out with a cloth from the sink in the bathroom. The skirt was red and matched the suit jacket. She had the skirt pulled up to her waist. She was not looking to flash the world; she was distracting herself.
She didn't even hear him come in, and, when she looked up, gave a kind of a startled squeak and didn't even think to push her skirt down right away. It was as though she willfully was sitting there displaying to the doctor in the doorway her legs and her pretty rose colored panties.
"Uh, Ms. Newell," he said, bringing her out of her reverie, "Your skirt."
"Ohhhhh," she said surprised and now embarrassed, "I'm sorry doctor; I was idly thinking, as I tried to get a stain out of my skirt."
"Well," he said, eyes twinkling as he spoke, "I could always say that I'm a doctor and have seen it all before but I'd be lying to you if I didn't admit that it was a pretty enough sight. I'm sorry to have snuck up on you like that, Mrs, Miss oh I guess Ms. Newell," he said.
"It's Miss Newell," she said, "Actually, doctor, it's Ruth Ann."
Then she went on:
"Dr. Grace, it's I who should have been looking out for what I was doing and not showing the world my underwear," she smiled a truly abashed smile, when she said it.
"Pretty though," he remarked. She blushed and he dropped the issue. Then he went on:
"You look so tired; Miss Newell, should you go and get some rest?"
"Please, it's Ruth Ann," she said.
He answered: "Cyrus, Cyrus Grace."
He noticed that she made a slight face and said:
"Yes, I know, my parents were enamored of the ancients. So, I'm named for Cyrus the Persian but it could have been worse, maybe Ashurbanipal or Shupi Lulliuma or one of those guys."
"Shupi who?" she asked, laughing He laughed too and went on:
"But really, uh, Ruth Ann, can't you go and get some rest? I'm on for the night; I'll keep a good eye on him."
"My Uncle Mike," she said simply.
"On your Uncle Mike," he said.
"I don't think that I can leave him," was her simple statement, and she began to cry.
His instinct prompted him to go to her, and she met him with her own instinctive reaction; she leaned forward, still sitting and leaned against him, with her arms around him. He, with one hand, stroked her hair.
"I'm so sorry, Dr. Grace," she said.
"Not a bit of it!' he said quickly back to her.
He stepped back, neither of them was ashamed of the encounter, both of them noticed it, and simply turned from thoughts about it.
"When my Mom and Dad died, Uncle Mike took me in, and I was always his girl. He saw me through it all; I mean adolescence, my education; he brought me into the business and made sure that I learned it all. Now here he is with this ... this stroke and I can't abandon him; no, won't abandon him."
"Of course not," Dr. Grace said. "Well, I'll look back in a little bit. If you need, I'm on this floor tonight."
Just as he got to the doorway, she said to him a very soft:
"Thank you, Dr. Grace!"
He grinned: "It's Cyrus, but you might not want to use that."
She flashed him a smile and said: "I don't know, I kind of like Cyrus."
"Hmm," he answered, "Fan club of one!"
"One's a beginning," she said.
"Later," was his answer, and still smiling, he left the room.
"He's a nice one, Uncle Mike," Ruth Ann said, as soon as the doctor was out the door.
Cyrus Grace did look in a bit later and found Ruth Ann still working on the spot on her skirt.
"Coming out?" he asked this time.
She looked up in surprise again.
"I promise that I'll stop doing that," he said.
"Dr. Grace, it is a hospital and you're the doctor; you shouldn't have to worry about entering a room, if I'd just mind my manners and keep my skirt down."
He received a smile from her with the communication.
His smile in return was warm and he said:
"At least not as high this time."
She grinned and said: "Thank goodness."
"I was more thinking 'darn it!" was his reply.
She hid her mouth with her hand and giggled behind her hand.
"You're terrible!" she said.
"On the contrary," was his falsely stilted reply, "I'm very observant."
"I guess so," was her reply.
He went to the bed then to check Uncle Mike's vitals.
"Anything?" she asked.
"No, I'm afraid not," he answered. "About the same."
He excused himself and went away then but came back fairly quickly with a cup of coffee for Ruth Ann.
"Oh, thank you," she said, and looked at him and the mischievous look on his face.
"Say it!" she said with an overly loud 'resigned' smile.
"Shall I?" he asked, the look never leaving his face.
"I guess you should or I guess you'll burst instead," was her reply.
They both laughed and he asked:
"Do you need to undress to drink that?"
She covered her mouth with her hand again and said, behind the hand, "Terrible!"
He got a serious look then and said:
"Miss Newell, uh, Ruth Ann, I don't mean to be speaking out of line here. I'm just having fun with you."
"Don't you dare mention it, Dr. Grace; it's the only cheer that I've had since Uncle Mike had the stroke. You make a girl feel fairly light headed."
Cyrus Grace grinned at that and said:
"Well, good for me!"
He checked Uncle Mike again and said:
"I'm off to give everyone a good look over."
"Now who's doing it!?" he said severely to her but she still giggled some more.
"Women!" he said in a mock disgusted tone and said:
"Ruth Ann, I will be back."
"Thank you, Cyrus," was her reply.
He did come back later and found her sleeping. It was late. She had her arms wrapped around herself and had her head leaning against the back of the chair.
He moved forward, after retrieving a blanket from the room's storage closet and pulled the foot rest of the chair up for her. He wrapped the blanket around her.
She, still mostly asleep, kissed his hand and said: "Thank you, honey!"
Then she woke and said:
"Oh, I apologize! Uncle Mike would often do that kind of thing for me; I'm sorry."
"I'm not!" Cyrus said. "I kind of liked it."
She smiled, as she was about to close her eyes again, and, just as he tucked the blanket in around her, kissed his hand again. This time accompanied by a soft smile.
"Thank you," she said.
"Rest now, Ruth Ann," were his words.
It was a fairly restless night for her. She woke after a while and he seemed to know it, and brought for her some fruit and yogurt, with some bread.
"Hospital food!" he said grimly.
"A lovely gesture," she replied and began to eat what he'd brought her.
They talked companionably, while she ate what he'd brought for her. When she was finished, she stretched and he said to her:
"Why don't you at least take a few turns around the halls; get a little exercise. I'll sit with him, while you're gone."
"Will you?" she asked gratefully.
"Of course," was his reply.
Ruth Ann, reached up and kissed Cyrus' cheek and went for a walk around the halls of the hospital but she came back fairly quickly, not wanting to tie up his time.
"Say," he said, before leaving, "We have some stain remover at the desk with the supplies. I'll get you a packet of it."
"Are you going to demand to watch me use it?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.
"You are a hard boiled one," was his reply and he slipped away to get the stain remover.
When he came back he said to her: "We encounter all sorts of stains and have to be ready to deal with them."
"Thank you, Cyrus," she replied, "But no show this time!"
"Darn!" he said in an exaggerated fashion. "I guess twice is my allotment."
"It is indeed," she replied, as he left.
She spent the night with Uncle Mike, who didn't show signs of improving or of getting immediately worse.
Cyrus did stop in briefly, in the early morning, as light was beginning to creep up to the windows.
"Work?" he said.
"Yes," was her reply, "I need to get going."
"Driving?" he asked.
"No, I taxied, yesterday after work."
"Please let me drive you," he said softly, "Maybe breakfast? What you had wasn't much."
"What I had was what you gave me," she said, and then she said: "Yes, I'd like that breakfast and a ride."
He collected her at the front door of the hospital.
"Hey," he said, when she got into the car, "No stain."
"No, I'm not going to raise my skirt up to see, you bad man!" she said, plaintively, and grinning.
"Who can blame a fellow!" he said.
"Why would you even bother," she said wistfully. "Look at me, rumpled, yesterday's clothes, no shower no ... well, you know."
"Well this time I will beg your pardon first but then proceed to say that you, Ruth Ann, right now are lovely of lovely."
He said right away: "I do apologize for making you blush."
"Oh, don't apologize for saying one of the nicest things that I've heard in a long, long time," she said to him. He smiled.
Breakfast was lovely for her. She talked to him about her and Uncle Mike. She found Cyrus Grace very easy to talk to. She also asked him about himself and discovered that he was just starting out in his career and was about to establish his own practice.
They were quite friends by the end of the breakfast.
He dropped her off at her house and promised to look in tonight.
The day was hectic enough but her attention was constantly divided. There was the continual overwhelming worry about Uncle Mike, though she knew and understood the prognosis. And there was the continual replaying of mental tapes that were all marked "Dr Cyrus Grace." She couldn't get him out of her mind.
She blushed off and on all day long thinking of the first meeting of the two of them with her cleaning the spot and at the same time, showing the doctor her panties.
After work, she took a cab to the hospital, again not wanting to park her car there over night. She had been there only a short while, when Dr. Grace entered the room to take a look at Uncle Mike.
Ruth Ann gave him a soft, welcoming smile.
"Dr. Grace," she said, unsure of herself tonight.
"Cyrus," he said to her kindly. "Remember we've shared breakfast, saw each other all night and you flashed me twice."
"You're terrible!" she said giggling behind her hand. Then she asked:
"How is he?"
"About the same," Cyrus said. "Seems to be weakening a little."
"Ohh," she said in a sad voice.
They established a kind of pattern in those hospital visits. Most nights Dr. Grace was on duty, coming to the end of that period of his preparation. She ceased to worry about taking care of herself. She knew that Dr. Grace was going to do that. He made sure that she had things to drink, that she ate, that she was comfortable. She couldn't stay every night, but when she did, he made sure that she was as comfortable as possible.
His good humor tended to keep Ruth Ann in decent spirits. From the very first, he kept a certain kind of pressure on her.
"Are you sure you don't want any tea, Ruth Ann?" he asked, and had asked persistently enough that she finally took his meaning.
She put her hand over her mouth and giggled into her hand.
"You're terrible!" she said.
"No, I'm a doctor trying to use his best bedside manner to see if the lovely lady wanted any tea," he what he came back with.
"Even if the lovely lady wants tea," she said, "She probably isn't going to spill any of the tea in her lap."
"We'll see about that!" he said.
"Is that a threat?" she asked, barely masking her glee.
"Promise!" he said as he walked from the room.
Their banter was welcome, for it had the effect of keeping Ruth in good spirits and also sparking her interest. His asking her for tea became a kind of a sign between them. They certainly hadn't shared much but he let her know that he was impressed with what that sharing had been.
He was also there for the crisis. It came one night, fairly late, and unexpected, for Uncle Mike had been going along for a number of days. But that night the monitor started to make alarming noises and help came running.
Cyrus was one of the first in the room and worked with a will and efficiency that was immediately impressive. He asked one of the nurses to please escort Ms. Newell outside for a bit. Ruth Ann could barely breathe, when he did that.
She waited outside the room in great fear, and dread; she knew what was coming. In a bit, Cyrus came out of the room and his face told her all.
She simply started crying and availed herself of the only consolation that she knew would mean anything. She went into his arms.
He said to her, kissing the top of her head:
"If I could spare you any of this in any way, I would; he was too weak. The stroke took too much out of him."
She looked at him with a tear strewn face and said a very quiet:
"Thank you, Dr. Grace."
It was formal but the situation called for a bit of formality. Then he spoke to her again:
"He must have truly been a magnificent man to have a woman as wonderful as you, grieving for him so."
She looked at him then, and just from her eyes, he could tell that she heard what he'd said and appreciated it.
"Thank you, he was," was her simple statement.
A nurse came out of the room at that point and simply nodded to him.
"You can go in now, Ruth Ann," he said.
She looked at him and her face was pleading. She said:
"Cyrus, will you please come with me? I'm afraid that I'll feel so lonely."
"Of course, love," he said, and her eyes blinked at what he'd called her.
But neither of them thought to dwell on these little endearments at the time at all.
She stood by the bed, and sought for and held his hand. She squeezed his hand and cried for her Uncle Mike. She kissed Mike a fond goodbye and then turned to Cyrus and buried her face in the lapel of his white lab coat and cried.
Cyrus Grace said nothing; he held her and let her cry out her love for the father figure that she'd just lost. He stayed with her for a while and then had to go back to work.
She didn't stay at the hospital very long after that but went home, taking a cab, in order to begin to make the arrangements that were needed.
The funeral was quite large; he had many friends and associates. Not so many went to the grave site for the final burial. Ruth Ann was working almost as an automaton during the funeral. She saw Cyrus in the crowd but was unable to do anything more than nod her head in greeting.
She kept her composure during the funeral at the church, the church where Uncle Mike had been a member of the parish council. She kept the composure through the removal of the body from the church and the long ride to the cemetery.
But then at the grave side, when it was finally finished, and the casket lowered into the ground, as was Uncle Mike's wish, she was suddenly lost, almost unhinged by a sense of loss and loneliness. Not knowing what to do, where to turn, what was next. The feeling was overwhelming.
He was there, he saw and he knew.
The next thing that Ruth Ann knew was that Cyrus was standing in front of her, and to the surprise of many of the by standers, who were all concerned for Ruth, when they saw her obvious pain and loss, he simply held out his arms and she went into the safety of them.
She cried against his chest for many long minutes, as people drifted away.
"Don't leave me," she said in barely a whisper into his chest.
"I have no intention to," was his answer. Nor did he. He stayed with her for the remainder of the necessities of the day.
Some intimate friends gathered at her house and were introduced to 'her friend' Dr. Grace, with Ruth Ann telling all and sundry that he'd been so good in working with Uncle Mike and in comforting her.
The friends and some fairly distant relatives greeted him with warmth and thanked him for helping Ruth Ann, when she was so obviously in need of the help.
After they'd been at her house for a while, Cyrus went up to Ruth Ann, who gave him a huge and welcoming smile, and he said:
"I have to go to work; I'm on at the hospital tonight."
"Must you?" she said but then right away she answered her own question:
"Of course you must," she said.
"I only work tonight until 11 PM; may I, shall I come by then?" he wanted to know.
"Would you please?" she asked.
"I will also bring something with me to help you to sleep," he said.
"I think that maybe all that I need to help me sleep tonight might be you," she said softly.
"Wonderful woman!" he said, kissing her lightly, a brush of her lips before he left.
He returned to an empty house and a weepy woman. She'd told the last of the friends that she would be fine. She sat, was drinking a glass of wine and simply thinking her thoughts, when the doorbell rang.
She knew or at least hoped she knew who it was. She opened the door and it was Cyrus standing there.
"Hi, Ruth Ann," he said softly.
"Oh, you came back," she said the pleasure sound in her voice obvious.
"I said I would," he said simply.
"Yes, and I knew, knew you would," was her response. "Thank you, thank you." She clung to him as she said this.
"I know that I'm being the weepy woman but the man took me in; he became as much of a father as I ever had. I was never wanting for love and support. He was a good, good man! And I'm going to miss him."
"You get to be the weepy woman, or anything else that you want, lovely Ruth Ann," Cyrus said, "Your loss is grievous; your devotion to him, following his stroke was absolutely wonderful. It shows you as a woman who cares and puts the care into action. I really admire that."
She set the wine aside and said: "I think that I've had enough." Then she looked at him and said:
"How long can you stay?"
Cyrus chuckled and said: "Ruth Ann, I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh, you are so special," she said in a soft and wondering voice.
"So tell me," he said, "Are you ready to get some rest?"
"I think that I'm ready to collapse," was her response.
"Here's the plan," he said, "I'm going to give you something to make you sleep and then I'll stay."
"Oh, how nice," she crooned.
He held up a hand then and said: "And the doctor is not going to ravish anyone."
"Okay," she answered in a small voice and then added quietly:
"But sometime, I wish you would."
"Noted," he said, and kissed her forehead.
"Look, here's what we need here," he went on then, "We need lovely Ruth Ann to go upstairs and get ready for bed. Then the doctor will give her something to make her sleep and will watch over her. No problems tonight. Everything can be faced tomorrow. Got it!?"
"Yes, doctor," she said, "Got it. Not even any tea stains?" She asked this last with a mischievous grin on her face.
"Not tonight!" he answered her firmly. "The doctor is in control here."
"Yes, doctor!" she said again. "I'll call when I'm ready."
In a few minutes, she called him. She was wearing a yellow long robe of a kind of brushed silk, a lovely robe.
"You look so nice," he said to her.
"This will act quickly, honey," he said, "But I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh, how nice!"she said.
He gave her then the shot, and it did begin to make her sleepy immediately. He swooped down and grabbed her under the knees and across the shoulder and walked to the bed with her.
"Wonderful!" she said in an increasingly sleepy voice, and, resting her head against him fell asleep.
He removed the robe from her, and was tickled to find that she was naked beneath the robe.
"My, my, Ruth Ann, you are gorgeous of gorgeous!" he left a kiss on her fore head and pulled the coves up around her chin.
He went around the house then. He cleaned up the kitchen, and the living room and family room, where the crowds had been and then locked up and put the lights off. Before getting into bed himself, he put a note on the mirror for her. He knew about the amount of time that she'd sleep and was aware that she might just be awake before him in the morning.
Then, taking his own clothes off in the dark, he got into bed. The moonlight was streaming through the window. He pulled the sheet down and just gazed at her lovely nakedness.
"It's a trust, Cyrus," he said, "Just a trust."
Then he kissed her lightly on the lips and said a soft:
"Good night, Ruth Ann."
She actually mumbled a good night right back at him, from her sleep. Cyrus lay down in the dark beside the lovely, sleeping naked woman, and muttered to himself:
"You're a good guy, Cy Grace!" Then he chuckled.
In a restless movement, Ruth Ann moved a bit herself, she came in contact with Cy and heaving a huge sigh, pressed herself against him, contented even in sleep with the lovely and comforting contact.
He rolled to her, put an arm around her and cuddled her to himself, as he drifted to sleep himself.
She woke first in the morning and was surprised at how good she felt. The first two things that she noticed was her own nakedness, and then his, as he still slept on the other side of the bed.
She got up out of bed and as she padded to the bathroom, she saw the note on the mirror:
"Nothing happened last night!" the Doctor.
She appended her own note to his and went down stairs, intent on making some breakfast scones. She was almost overwhelmed by the fact that he'd done the cleaning up. Ruth Ann was a busy professional woman but she prided herself in her cookery nonetheless. He slept on.
It was the smell of the baking that finally roused Cy from sleep. He noted that she was gone and sniffed the air again, getting a marvelous mixture of baking and coffee. It propelled him to his feet quickly. He used the bathroom and then went out in search of something to wear. He noticed her yellow silk robe hanging behind the door and put it on. It fit him ill but it did cover him.
As he walked into the kitchen he quipped: "The doctor is in..." but only barely got the phrase out of his mouth, when he stopped, slack jawed.
There was Ruth Ann supervising the scone baking butt naked except for a yellow apron, that did precious little to cover her.
"My, look at you!" he said, still rooted to his spot.
"Nice robe, Doctor Grace," she said.
"You, uh, got my note?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied, "Did you get mine?"
"Yes, I got it," he said.
"Well, here's a special kind of 'good morning' to the Doctor in my house," she said coming toward him.
The yellow silk robe was open and his erection was poking out from the robe.
"I guess I look silly!" he said, in an effort at small talk.
"I guess you look divine," she said, as she reached where he was standing and slowly went to her knees.
"Oh," he said, gazing down on her, "You're going to..."
"Do what I've wanted to do all along," she said, to finish his sentence.
Her eyes were glued to his, as she took his erection in hand and, lifting it up, began by running her tongue up the entire underside of the lovely, stiff prick. When she got to the underside of the head, she licked first but then began to suck on the entire region of the underside of the head of his cock.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh," he groaned. "Where'd you learn to do that?"
"You had your eduction and I've had mine," she said pleasantly, grinning at him.
Then she took the head of his cock into her mouth. She pulled her head off again, as though thinking better of it, and licked up and down the underside of the cock again. When she got to the root of his cock, she held his balls in her hand and then took them into her mouth, one at a time.
"Awww!" he sighed next.
"The doctor makes such wonderful noises," she said to him.
"The doctor is enjoying a blow job and gets to make wonderful noises," was his answer.
"The doctor is right!" she said and licked her way up the prick again, stopping once more to suck on the underside of the head, and then she plunged her mouth onto the entire length of his cock, engulfing it totally.
He almost shouted his joyful excitement. Her eyes never left his at all. She pulled her mouth off, licking at him and asked him:
"What do you want to do, when you cum, Doctor Grace? Decorate me? Swallow? You choose; this is all about you!"
"Swallow is nice," he said to her.
"Swallow it is, Doc!" was her answer. She was soooo enjoying her role here as the provider of joy for him.
Holding onto his cock she was licking at it again.
"You do this so well!" he said.
"Natural talent," she quipped back at him, "And a deep desire to please the doctor in my house."
"Doing that! Doing that right now!" he sighed, as he began to move his hips.
"Mmmmm," she sighed, "The doctor's getting into it now. So, we'll go to the next phase."
"Next phase?" he asked.
"Yes, this is the no hands phase; this is the phase where you participate; this is the phase where you get to fuck my face; this is the phase where the doctor gets to sing his song."
She let go of his cock but let it slip out of her mouth for a few seconds as she, grinning at him, took the apron off, and rubbed her nipples along the front of his legs.
"My, my, my!" were his only words.
"Ready for a ride, Doctor Grace?" she asked.
"Ready, Ms. Newell," he said, and she captured his cock with her mouth again.
Only now he began to use his hips in a fluid motion, moving his cock in and out of her mouth. She maintained her hands behind her head, in prisoner fashion, as he got into the fucking of her face.
"Oh, oh, oh," he said through clenched teeth as he began to spurt his cum into her mouth. He grasped the back of her head and held her head in position, while she accepted it all from him, her mouth, lips and throat working to receive it. Nor did she let any escape from her mouth. By the end of the blow job, she had tears on her cheeks from the deep throated effort.
Cy Grace, grabbed her immediately and puller her to her feet. He had the robe off and had her clasped to himself, with his lips locked on hers, and his tongue meeting hers in a passionate embrace.
The kiss broke and he said to her:
"What kind of wonderful woman are you? Just what kind of wonderful woman are you?"
"Good morning, Cyrus," she smiled up at him. "Scones in a minute."
She went to the oven and took the scones out of the oven then but once the scones were set aside, he went to her and said:
"Scones can wait a bit!"
He grabbed Ruth Ann and with an amount of power that she wouldn't have expected, lifted her up and sat her, naked on the table.
"Eeeeek!" she said, letting out her own version of his previous noises.
"Beautiful," he murmured, as he began to kiss her, beginning at her knees and working her way up the top of her thighs.
"Mmmmmmm," she sighed, "Doctor at work."
Then he made the trail of kisses and licks again, only this time it was on the inner surface of first one thigh and then the other.
"Oh dear," she said this time, "Doctor knows what he's doing."
He looked up at her and smiled. Then he moved his head into position and this time he covered most of her pussy mound with his mouth.
"Ohhhhhhhh," she wailed, "I'll never let you go, never!"
Cy stopped what he was doing, moved his face away and looked up at her; he said softly:
"Don't say things that you don't mean!"
She stared at him for a few seconds and she repeated:
"I'll never let you go, never!"
He smiled at her then and said:
"Good! I'll just continue then."
"Please do, Cy, Cyrus, Dr. Grace, and know that I'm never letting you go!"
His mouth was back then covering her pussy mound and his tongue working its slow and very clever way through her pussy hair to come into contact with the lips of her vagina.
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Cy!' she said as though to the cosmos itself.
His tongue penetrated her vaginal lips then and began it search of the inside of her vagina, accompanied by more cries of almost ecstasy from Ruth Ann. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, and she was making her noises to accompany his eating of her.
Cy's tongue found the button of her clit then, and she almost exploded.
"Got ya!" he exulted.
"Yes, yes, you do!" she agreed, her breathing coming faster and faster.
He played with the clit, using his lips and his tongue. He raked it once with his teeth and she positively screeched and grabbed fists full of his hair. He didn't mind at all. He was, if anything, spurred on by her noises and her constant wiggling, and movements.
"Cy, Cy, Cy," she said almost pleading, "I'm going to ... I'm going to EXPLODE!" she shouted, never letting go of his head and grinding her hips into his working face. Then she was cumming and he was taking it all in, continuing to lick and suck at her, his hands now underneath her, grasping her by her soft, round ass cheeks.
She finally simply flopped down on the table, and he moved away a bit and sat on the floor.
"Good morning!" he said then.
"Good Morning! Good Morning!" she hissed at him. "You are a master, a master, I say at eating pussy. I'm not even sure if I'll ever leave you out of my site, let alone out of my life."
"You certainly know how to please a guy!" he said to her, grinning.
She got down off the table and all but flung herself into his arms.
"Cyrus Grace, be mine forever," she said desperately. "Any terms; your terms, all terms, in whatever way you want. You think about it. I'm almost frantic here. I'm almost incoherent here. Don't answer. Don't say anything. Just think about it. It's a request from a hysterical woman, who has just been eaten within an inch of her life. Forgive my outburst, Cy, but I love you, love you!"
He was grinning at her, as she finally ran down and slumped against him.
"I guess that 's 'good morning' too then?" he said.
"Oh, yes it is!" she said to him.
"I'm sorry for the outburst," she said then. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Don't be, you didn't," he replied. "Just do me one favor."
"Anything," she said.
"Think of all of it, when your emotions are not so much at play. I don't want to 'eat you' into something that you'll later have to retract," he said, serious now.
She leaned against him then and cried. He held her.
"What is it?" he asked softly.
"Everything, love," she said. "It's a roller coaster; it's my Mike gone; it's you here and the frightening, almost life giving things that I just wailed to you and to the sun and stars. And I really need to go to work toady."
"I have a medical meeting to go to this afternoon. I'll be gone for today and two more days. Then I'll be back," he said.
"Promise me!" she said to him.
"Promise," he said, "And this doctor doesn't go back on his promises."
"Oh, good," she said. "Shower? Fuck? Let me suck you again?"
"Shower," he said. "The fuck is coming though. You can take that to the bank."
"Oh, goody," was her reply.
They went companionably, arms around each others waists to the bedroom and then to the showers.
Her time for the next few days was busy and hectic. There were details of Mike's will to deal with and all things that needed to be set into motion. She had insisted right along with Mike that she be allowed to pay her own way. And he had reluctantly agreed but in the will it was all hers now, and it was much more than she could ever hope or long for.
She began thinking of maybe a new bigger house. It was a treat to think about, while all she had from Cyrus Grace was his phone calls. She decided that she wouldn't proceed on the house issue, though until she had, had her think through that he had been speaking about.
She planned a long evening with herself and Frank Sinatra to to try to clear her mind and see her way straight.
She had a weepy evening. She allowed herself to express all of the loss that she felt for her Uncle Mike. She realized that part of the pain of this had in effect been put off by the discovery, the coming into her life of Cyrus Grace. Now he was more distant and she could fill her time with thoughts about Uncle Mike: How it had been, they way he'd taken care of it, how loving and generous he'd been, how skeptical he'd been, when she insisted on paying her own way, on her own salary, and learning the business from the bottom up, but also how her work had never disappointed him.
The time was well spent for her. It was like a love fest for her and she ended her evening, late, late talking to Uncle Mike as though he were still here. And that part of the evening turned inevitably to Dr. Cyrus Grace.
She told Uncle Mike all about Cyrus, and his attentions to her, his goodness, the way that he took care of her, while she was keeping a lonely vigil at Mike's bedside. She talked of how exciting he was, and how he'd taken over when the funeral was winding down and she became a ship without a rudder, lost and straying but carefully tended by Cyrus.
She knew the truth of what she'd said to him in the heat of that wonderful sex. She knew the truth of it and it was a great comfort to her. The only shadow was the shadow of his not being there to tell him, and that produced a kind of doubt in her mind. She knew her mind now and thought, hoped that she also knew his mind on this.
He'd be there the day after tomorrow, and then she'd tell him. She thought that he might call but didn't want it to be on the telephone.
"No," she thought, "This needs to be said in person: that I meant every word of it and would never let him go, never!"
She lay her head back and smiled a smile and on the tip of her tongue was a soft but totally meant "Thank you, Uncle Mike, for letting me talk and get through this."
Then the phone rang. It was Cyrus.
"Hey, lovely lady! How's my Ruth Ann?"
"Oh, Cy, weepy tonight; but it's my night to be with Uncle Mike and to get that all out where it can be seen."
"Are you okay, Ruthie?" he asked.
"Oh, I like it, when you call me that; he always did! And, yes, I'm alright. I'm getting it all taken care of. There's a great deal, more than I had imagined, that I'm coming into now. I'm only beginning to realize it. But I'll keep working at straightening it out."
They talked for a while, and then had to say 'good night', since they both were going to be busy the next day.
"Good night, my Ruthie" he said.
"Good night, Cy, and the part about loving you: I meant it. I do."
"I know," he said, "And Ruth Ann Newell, I love you too."
She began to cry.
"I can't hang up now with you crying," he said. "I didn't mean to make you cry."
"Oh, it's only that it makes me so happy. I've not given room in my life 'til now for anything but work and the business."
"Now's your time, Ruthie," he said, "Now's our time."
"Oh good!" she said then and added "Good night, Cyrus."
The next day she continued her dealing with Uncle Mike's affairs and the business too. She decided that she probably needed a kind of assistant of some kind but would think about that later. She was wearing a suit to work. She didn't realize it right away but it was the same suit that she had been wearing, when she'd first met Cyrus Grace, what seemed like years ago, though it was a short time.
The secretary, Nancy, knocked on the door and poked her head in saying:
"Dr Grace is here, boss."
"He is?" Ruth Ann almost exploded. "Send him in."
Then Ruth Ann, guided entirely by a kind of inner sense of mischief, pulled up her skirt to her waist and began to busy herself as though she were trying to rub out a spot. In the process she was showing her panties, and grinning to herself. She was looking down until she heard the explosion of breath.
He was standing there staring at her.
"You're doing it again!" he said.
"Doing what, Dr. Grace?" she asked innocently.
"The same suit," he said, "Damn, the same panties! You're flashing me again."
"You must be mistaken, Dr. Grace," she said playfully but not bothering to pull her skirt down or cover her panties, with their view of her curly pubic hair.
"Damn," he said again.
"You already said that, Dr. Grace," she said.
"Well at least I know now what to do!" he said next, and strode across the room.