Given Up On Love

I'm Kathy. Ok, so I'm an average woman. Not super thin or super sexy or super athletic. And I don't have a 38DD chest, a 20-inch waist, or a shaved snatch. Guess the best you could say is that I am kinda cute. For 42, that's not too bad. And I like to read a little literotica every once in a while. But no, I've never had an illicit affair in an alley, had tentacle sex, slept with my stepbrother, or been taken on a train by anonymous strangers. I've just had a sparse smattering of boyfriends through the years, and the relationships never went anywhere. Just my luck. So am I kidding, I'd been reading a LOT of literotica lately. Long ago I'd given up any hope of romance, or even sex for that matter. At my age all the guys were gay, married, or divorced with bitter kids, miserable baggage and psycho ex-wives. And the single ones -- something was definitely wrong with them. I'd had just enough blind dates to give up on love. Then I met him.

I'd taken a new job working at an upscale hospital in the psychiatric unit. I was part of a team who worked one-on-one with the patients, helping them set goals and talking about whatever they needed to talk about, sometimes just being there for them. One morning I was getting out of my car in the parking lot, when I heard a man frantically yelling for help. I'd been an EMT for many years, so a good emergency always made my day a bit brighter. I ran over to see what was up. The yelling came from a tall, slender, bespeckled, forty-something man in a white lab coat, with unruly hair and the look of abject terror on his face. On the ground beside him was an unmoving, older man, clad in a lab coat, too. A quick pulse check confirmed that the inert man was in cardiac arrest, so I sent the panicked lab rat to call a Code Blue in the hospital while I did my best CPR.

What felt like 200 years later, the hysterical lab rat returned with the Code Team, and the ER guys took it from there. And I was left with the hysterical lab rat. He was ghostly white and shaking like a leaf. I introduced myself and learned his name was Peregrine Larin. He had just a hint of a Scottish accent. Sexy. He wasn't just any lab rat, either; he was Assistant to the Chief Pathologist at the hospital. As the code team was currently attempting to resuscitate the Chief of Pathology, he looked at me with glassy hazel eyes and announced tonelessly that he was going to be very busy, playing boss and doing his regular job in the path lab, too. He stood there, staring at nothing. I walked him into the hospital and guided him into a "quiet room" just off the ER hub. He crumpled into a seat. He looked like he needed some quiet. Actually he looked like he needed a good stiff drink, but coffee was all I could scrounge up for him.

Until then, I'd never seen a man cry. I mean CRY. He just fell apart. And I felt so helpless. I didn't even know him, and his heart was breaking right before my eyes. But there was something I really liked about those hazel eyes, so I sat down next to him and put my arms around him and held him as close as possible. And he kept on crying. And crying. And crying. Just when I thought he might never run out of tears (and I might have to call psych for a little help), he finally wound down, his head pressed into the crook of my neck as if to hide from the stark reality of what he'd just seen.

"They are doing their best for him," I said.

"I know," he whispered. "We've worked together for the last 12 years. He took me under his wing. He practically trained me to be what I am today. I still go to his house for Sunday dinners, and his wife cooks...Oh, God, Sarah! I've got to call Sarah. What the hell do I say to her? I watched Max drop dead in the parking lot and freaked out? I was trained in CPR but my mind just went totally blank. Oh my God, what can I do? What do I tell her?"

"Peregrine, calm down. Most people panic in situations like that. You work in a lab, not in the ER." "Why don't you let the doctors call her, once they better know his condition."

Peregrine shuddered at my words and turned even paler than before. He knew what condition I expected Max to be in. "No, it should come from me. Whatever the outcome."

I was impressed, a man who could emote, be vulnerable, and be brave at the same time. And did I mention his deep hazel eyes? I left him in the quiet room and went to see how the Code Team was making out. I told the charge nurse that the patient's Pathology Assistant was around the corner and wanted to update the patient's wife. I figured Max for a goner, but the nurse gave me news I wasn't expecting -- Max had a pulse; in fact, he was breathing on his own, conscious, and complaining bitterly that his chest hurt. He was already on his way to CAT scan and likely then up to the Cath lab for surgery to open up his clogged arteries that had caused his heart attack. Bonus. "Saves" are few and far between...Guy must be tough as nails.

Peregrine took the news with the same incredulity I had. Then he sighed like the world had been lifted from his shoulders, and he dialed a number on his cell phone. I left him to his task and called my department to let them know why I was late. They told me they had an influx of fresh bumbling nursing students on the ward, so I may as well look after the pathologist and make sure he was ok. Double Bonus! When I returned, Peregrine was heading to the parking lot. He said he was going to pick up Max's wife. I absolutely forbade him to get behind the wheel of a car in his current state. He looked horrible. Since I'd been given carte blanche to take care of him, I drove him out to pick up Max's wife. Anyway, I didn't want to let him out of my sight until he looked a lot better.

Truth be told, I didn't want to let him out of my sight at all, but my life never worked out that way, so I banished all thoughts of romance from my mind, blaming my interest on insanity and horniness. Back at the hospital, he had Max's wife to comfort, so I bade him farewell and turned to leave. Before I got far, Peregrine was at my elbow, thanking me for being so kind to him. Pensively he said, "All hell is going to break loose up in Pathology without Max, and I'll be up to my eyeballs in extra work, but I'd love it if you'd pop up and visit sometime; I'd like to get to know you." "Ah, I mean, umm, if you'd want to..."

His awkwardness was so cute, and I smiled and told him I'd love to come visit. I told him not to work too hard and floated to the Psych Department. Did I mention his expressive hazel eyes?

It was a week before I finally got to visit Peregrine. I'd gone up to the path lab when I got off work twice during the week, but he was somehow married to a microscope while running serology tests and delegating work to the rest of the department in between taking phone calls and completing week-end paperwork. Both days he just looked morosely through the glass of Max's office and waved with a weary expression on his face. By the end of the week, he looked thinner and worn down. I asked one of his lab techs if he was eating, and the tech told me he didn't think so. He said rumor had it that Peregrine was actually sleeping in Max's office so he could be up early to put get a jump on the work. They'd all told him he had to slow down, or he'd be in the ER next. Well that did it. I went down to the cafeteria, bought a ham and cheese sandwich, two cans of Coke, and a huge chocolate chip cookie. Then I went back up to pathology. Through the glass of Max's office, I could see Peregrine buried in an overwhelming stack of paperwork while talking on the phone. From outside the office he looked awful. Barging into the office, which earned me a surprised scowl, he looked positively horrific. The circles under his eyes made him look like a raccoon wearing glasses. He was pale and drawn. He was obviously not the management type. He was hanging on by a shoestring. And when he hung up the phone he was too tired to be mad at me for interrupting. He just looked at me and said, "I'm not cut out for this. I can't do this anymore. I can't eat. I don't sleep. No wonder Max had a heart attack. Dear Lord, I'm exhausted."

I pulled shut the curtains around the office and ordered him to sit on the beat up sofa. Placing the tray of food in his lap, I told him to eat. I took the phone off the hook. He began to object, but the fight just went out of him. His hands shook so badly that I had to open his can of soda for him. He ate the sandwich voraciously and drank the first soda so swiftly I was sure he'd explode from the carbonation. He was kinder to the second soda. And he actually smiled when he got to the cookie. He made quick work of it, but seemed to actually enjoy it. Then he just sighed and looked at me. I sat anxiously next to him; I wondered what else I could do for him. Then it hit me. I told him to lie on his stomach on the sofa. He took off his glasses and put them on a table, and just obediently lay down. I sat on his lower back and began to massage his shoulders and arms. I expected him to just fall asleep, but he let out a groan of pleasure that went straight to my groin. I massaged every part of his back, working out the knots of tension freeing him to relax for the first time in too many days. His responses lead me to imagine, like me, he hadn't been touched, even innocently (ok, mostly innocently) in quite a while. I made a decision. I got up and told him to turn over on his back.

I didn't think he would, but he did. Maybe he was too tired to think it through. Maybe he just didn't want me to stop touching him anymore than I wanted to stop touching him. So I sat on his hips. God it made me ache! I unbuttoned his shirt off and massaged the front of him. I worked my hands into his unruly hair. I massaged his temples. I touched every part of him I could. I ran my hands down his arms, massaging his biceps, his forearms, and his hands, making him sigh. I massaged his chest - little hair, sensitive nipples, good enough for me. Gently I swirled my thumbs across those nipples, making him close his eyes in pure bliss. By this time I was so hot and wet I swear he could smell my arousal. I could certainly feel his - he was so hard I wanted to jump him right there. Instead, I took the long, slender middle finger of his right hand and kissed it. He looked up at me with searching eyes. Then I began sucking on it, in and out slowly, going deeper into my throat with every stroke. Then I buried his long finger all the way down my throat and sucked it like the real thing. Eyes locked on mine, pupils dilated with pure need, in a horse voice, all he said was, "Please!"

I undid his belt and slacks and slid them down his legs, with his underwear in tow. He was so hard, pre cum was leaking out like desperate beads of sweat from his dick. I lightly licked the tip of his head, tasting his delicious fluid. He groaned like he was dying. Gently I began to work him, licking his entire penis with my tongue, especially underneath his rod. He shuddered and told me that no one had done this in a very long time. My reply was to suck his entire dick into my mouth and deep down my throat, then slowly pull him out again like a Popsicle. His balls were so up tight against his body; I knew he wouldn't last much longer. So I deep throated him again, working him against the back of my throat and down as far as he could go. Peregrine's breath came in gasps, and despite his exhaustion, his hips rose instinctively to meet my mouth. He fucked my throat faster and harder, grabbing onto the sofa cushion for support each time my nose buried into his pubic hair. The only warning he gave me was a soft cry and the he flooded my throat with jet after jet of cum. He tasted so good; I drank all of him down. Then, gently, with my tongue I cleaned him off when he was fully spent.

I kissed him, and he pulled me on top of his nearly naked body. He held me like he never wanted to let me go. I could have stayed in that embrace forever. Finally, I helped him pull his underwear and slacks back up and fasten his belt. I wrote down my address and phone number, putting it on the desk on top of all of the paperwork. I looked deep into those hazel eyes and told him he should come to my house tonight to rest for the weekend. I told him I wanted to get to know him better, too. He smiled at me with a weary grin and told me to count on it.

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Now Max is back to work, Peregrine's position has been restored as his Assistant, and I still work in the Psych ward. But life is different now. Peregrine has become a permanent fixture in my life, and we've both found a happiness we never dreamt possible. I never thought I'd say this, but now I believe in love.