waking-the-sleeping-heart
ADULT ROMANCE

Waking The Sleeping Heart

Waking The Sleeping Heart

by sensong7
19 min read
4.42 (4500 views)
adultfiction
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Auther note: Aaron, who is about to marry Renee, falls into a coma and wakes up ten years later. This is the story of their journeys to reawaken the love and passion they felt for each other. There is both hetero and lesbian sex.

**Chapter 1 -- Waking Up, February 2021

"Beep... beep... beep... beep..."

"Beep... beep... beep... beep..."

The sound filled the room and was really starting to annoy Aaron. He wasn't ready to get up and lay still, trying to ignore it.

"Damn, I feel stiff and sore this morning," he thought. "That hike yesterday must have been too much."

He wondered about the sound for a while, then decided it was the alarm clock. It wasn't his own alarm clock--he knew that. "I must have set the hotel alarm last night when Renee and I crawled into bed," he reasoned. He recalled they were in a hotel room, then thought, "Odd sound for an alarm."

He kept his eyes closed, refusing to open them. Opening his eyes meant getting up, and all he wanted was to drift back to sleep with Renee. "My fiancΓ©e," he thought, smiling inwardly. He remembered that yesterday she had promised to marry him.

Without looking, he reached for the bedside table. He knew exactly where to find the "sleep" button. It would buy him ten more minutes, but his hand found nothing.

Now irritated, he tried to open his eyes. They wouldn't budge--stuck shut. "This is strange," he said aloud. He lifted his hand to rub them open, and his arm felt stiff and heavy. As he rubbed his left eye, a voice interrupted him.

"Did you say something?" It was a woman, but it wasn't Renee.

"Beep... beep... beep... beep..." The sound persisted and was driving him a little crazy.

"Will someone turn off that damn alarm?" he said louder. His voice croaked oddly, and his throat hurt with the effort.

"Alarm?" the voice replied. "Mr. Fallows? You're awake!"

"Of course I'm awake. How can I sleep with that damn noise?" he croaked.

"You're awake! Oh my God, you're awake!" The voice brimmed with excitement.

He struggled to open his eyes as he heard quick footsteps and a door opening. The woman called out, as if into another room, "Mr. Fallows is awake!"

Now he started to panic. "Where am I, for Christ's sake? And where's Renee?"

With effort, he pried his eyes open slightly, and the bright light stung them. He shut them, then tried once more. He needed to understand his surroundings. Squinting, he made out vague shapes--two women approaching his bedside, dressed like nurses. He watched them warily.

One had gray hair and stood over him. Her kind face broke into a smile, and she touched his forehead. He did not resist. The cool hand soothed him.

"W-w-where... a-am I?" he stammered.

"Mr. Fallows, you're in a hospital. I'm Denise, your nurse. This is Misha, a nurse's aide." The younger one had dark skin and hair and smiled warmly.

He tried to smile back, but even his facial muscles hurt when he attempted that. "I really overdid it yesterday. But where's Renee?" he thought.

Then aloud, he said, "Hospital?"

"Yes, a hospital in Philadelphia," Denise said--her voice calm and reassuring.

"I don't understand. My fiancΓ©e and I were hiking in the hills just a minute ago--or maybe yesterday? Her name is Renee." His eyes opened more, and the light was less painful.

"Water?" His throat was so dry it hurt to speak.

Misha left and then returned with a cup. She pressed a straw to his lips, and he opened his mouth.

"Drink from the straw," she instructed.

He sipped gently, allowing the water to ease his throat.

"Why am I here? Am I hurt?" Speaking felt easier now.

"Let me get a doctor," Denise said and stepped away, returning a few minutes later.

"The doctor's coming to answer your questions," she told him.

He didn't feel injured, just exhausted. He closed his eyes and did not open them until a new voice spoke. "Mr. Fallows? Mr. Fallows, are you awake?" He opened his eyes partway and saw another gray-haired woman.

"Mr. Fallows, can you hear me? I'm Dr. Grayson. Do you remember you're in a Philadelphia hospital?"

"Yes--well, no. What happened to me?"

"You fell," she said.

"Where's Renee? Is she okay?"

The doctor looked puzzled for a moment. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

"No. Where's Renee? Was she hurt too?"

Dr. Grayson glanced at Denise, who shook her head and whispered to her.

"Mr. Fallows, there's no Renee here. You've been in a coma. Do you understand what that means?"

He nodded.

"How long?" he asked. "How long was I in a coma?"

"Ten years," she said softly.

Ten years. He closed his eyes, trying to shut everything out as he absorbed this.

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"Do you understand, Mr. Fallows?"

"Yes, ten years. And Renee isn't here."

Opening his eyes again, he gazed up at the doctor, who was giving him a sympathetic look. Then she began checking his vitals--blood pressure, heart, pulse, chest, temperature. He lay there grappling with the news. It was impossible to believe. He pictured being with Renee on the hill, and in his heart, it felt like yesterday. He couldn't reconcile what the doctor said with what he was certain to be true. "How could it be ten years?" he asked himself desperately.

"What do you last remember, Mr. Fallows?" Dr. Grayson asked, searching his eyes.

"I'm getting married," he said. "Renee said she'd marry me."

"Ten years ago?" he asked himself.

"Where's Renee? Has she visited?" he asked, growing agitated.

"I've never seen a Renee. Your attorney, Carol Adams, might know."

"My attorney? Can I talk to her?"

"She'll be here soon. We've notified her you're awake. Rest now, and I'll check on you later."

The doctor left, and he closed his eyes again, shutting out what seemed to be a very unpleasant world he had woken up to.

**Chapter 2 -- The Way It Was, June 2011

The hospital room was quiet again. The annoying noise had been turned off, and in the quiet Aaron lay there trying to piece together his memories.

Fresh out of grad school, he had jumped into investment banking, then he shifted to venture capital. He worked long hours and squeezed dating into his rare gaps of leisure time. At 30, he was earning well--not rich but rising.

He had plenty of first, second, and even fourth dates, but once the novelty of him wore off, women he met drifted away. He was attractive enough to draw interest and wanted a steady relationship, something that appealed to many women. But his obsession with work left little room for someone else in his life.

A regular at the gym, he had decided to try yoga, wanting to balance out his fitness routine. The first class he found was before lunch. About twenty others attended, mostly young women, with just a few men.

"Hi," said a tall woman in a dancer's leotard. "I'm your instructor, Renee. This is a mixed class of beginners and experienced. I'll give alternate instructions for tougher moves. Okay?"

That was how he met her. She was attractive with dark hair and brown eyes. She was 21, confident, and impressive. Did he love her then? He'd later tell her he did, and maybe it was true. From the start, she captivated him, causing his body to tingle in her presence. After three weeks, he invited her to lunch after class, and she accepted.

"So, Aaron, huh? Nice name. How do you like my class?"

"I like it. It's surprisingly tough. I thought I was pretty fit, but this challenges me."

"Yeah, it demands a lot from your body and from your mind. You'll see. But don't overdo it--I don't want you to get hurt. I'd like you to stick around."

They talked about yoga, and she shared her choice to teach it. She also talked about her past as a dancer and how she had trained for the ballet stage. He thought from her graceful movements that she could have excelled. But she decided dance wasn't for her. After quitting dance, she attended college briefly. Then she got licensed to teach yoga.

"Did you dance professionally?" he asked.

"Yeah, for about a year after ballet school. It was fun, and the other dancers were great. Then I got serious about yoga and meditation, and my interest in dance just faded away. I also run a meditation class if you're interested."

"I could use that. Where I work, it's all about the 'burn rate'--how fast startups spend investor money or how fast we work ourselves into exhaustion. They force us to take vacations--a week off every four months, with no office contact, no side projects, nothing. Everyone cheats, of course."

"What do you do?"

"Venture capital. We find private companies and connect them with investors--help them grow. Sometimes we take them public. If it works, we make a lot of money, and if not, we lose."

"How much money?"

"Depends. Sometimes millions, even tens of millions or more."

"Sounds stressful. I'll stick to yoga."

He thought she might be another who saw him as someone difficult to be in a relationship with. But she liked him and tolerated his workaholism as they began dating. Then it turned serious. Over time, she eased him away from total devotion to work. She showed him what it meant to be with someone like her. She was sexy, but it wasn't just that which drew him. She filled an empty space in him, something no one else had been able to do.

They had been dating for weeks, sharing goodnight kisses, with each meeting deepening their connection. But he craved more--wanting to push the relationship to the next level.

In the car after a late dinner, he said, "I don't want this evening to end, Renee. I mean, I don't want it to ever end."

She gave him an appraising look, seeming to weigh her next step. "I don't either, Aaron."

Encouraged, he asked, "Would you like to come home with me? Or I could stay with you?"

"I'd like that, Aaron, but let's make it my place. I hope you don't mind--it's kind of a dump."

"Wherever you are, Renee, it'll be a palace."

"Hmm, that's romantic," she replied. She leaned in for a kiss. Their kisses up to that point had been nice, but this was different. Their lips lingered tenderly, and both felt it. It drew a shiver from Renee, and it brought to Aaron the promise of intimacy he had hoped for since they met.

At her apartment, Renee said, "Sorry about the mess. There's not enough room for everything to have its own place. But it's cheap and close to the studio, so I don't mind."

The small apartment was tidy but cluttered, with every surface covered by something of hers. The walls displayed personal touches--ballet photos, a shadow box with tiny slippers, dance and yoga posters. The items clashed aesthetically but seemed to fit perfectly.

"It's nice," Aaron said. "Cozy. It feels like you."

Renee smiled. "Cozy, for sure," she said with a laugh.

She kicked off her shoes and walked gracefully to the fridge in her dancer's way. She grabbed a bottle of cheap white wine, two glasses, and sat with him on a small couch with a coffee table in front.

"Thanks for inviting me in," Aaron said, then raised his glass and sipped.

"Thanks for being here," she replied, then sipped her wine and kissed his cheek.

They sat and chatted quietly for 10 or 15 minutes as intimacy grew. Then the room around them seemed to fade as their focus turned to each other. They moved closer, and their bodies gently touched.

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Renee set her glass down with a faint clink, and words were no longer necessary--their gazes spoke for them. They nestled together comfortably as their bodies began to hum with unspoken need, and she gently moved her hand to rest warmly on his thigh as her head rested on his shoulder. They lingered like this, and their closeness hinted at what was to come.

"I've never met any one like you, Renee," he said as his fingers drifted idly through her hair, his lips trailing after with soft kisses, as he breathed in her scent.

"And I you," she said, as her fingers glided over his thigh--her teasing touch leaving him craving more. "But, different as we are I think we fit together, don't you?

"Yes I do," he replied thoughtfully, as time seem to slow and allowed them time to enjoy the silence and the simple contact. Neither wanted to rush and were content with relaxed delight in each other. To an outsider, they might seem dull, but beneath the calm, things were heating up.

Renee tilted her face up. Her eyes glowed with quiet desire. "Kiss me, Aaron," she said softly.

He touched her cheek with his hand and drew her close. Their lips met, and unlike their earlier tentative kisses, this one was an opening and a surrender. They pulled each other closer as the kiss became passionate and consumed them. When their lips parted, they lingered, gazing at each other, their loving eyes tracing each other's features.

Each moment brought with it something exciting about the other that was previously unnoticed. It also brought an increased longing to hold and make love with each other.

"I want you so badly, Renee. I've never wanted a woman like this. It feels wonderful just to be around you," he said in a voice both soft and hesitant. "I don't know what to say or do. I'm afraid I'll ruin this moment."

"Aaron, "she said, also hesitant, "I don't think you can do anything to ruin the moment, or to ruin us. I think we might be meant for each other." Then she paused, looking him in the eyes, and said, "Anyway, I hope we are."

Looking back at her, thinking about what she might mean, he asked quietly, "Can I touch you?" his tone carrying a sense of desire for her that made her heart flutter.

Knowing what he was asking, she nodded, her breath catching as she met his gaze, and her eyes reflecting both his need and her own. She gently took his hand--warm and steady--and pressed it to her heart. Through the fabric of her top, he felt the rhythmic quickening of her pulse and rise and fall of her breath. His fingers moved delicately, exploring her swelling contours as she leaned into his touch, her body craving the warmth of his hand.

She pulled back and smiled at him, saying, "I want to feel your hand," as she slipped her top over her head, revealing her familiar black athletic bra. He had seen her in it many times, but now the sight stirred something in him--a rush of affection, a pang of desire. He kissed her bare neck and shoulder, his breath warm against her skin, and she sighed with the tenderness of this simple act.

The air between them then sparkled with promise and growing desire, as both of their hands moved slowly, exploring each other with touches that spoke louder than words.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice low and earnest as his fingers brushed the bottom edge of her bra. "Can I see more?"

Smiling, she pulled her bra off, and his hand found her bared breast, cupping it gently, his touch igniting a quiet fire within her. He leaned down, pressing his lips to her skin, and she let out a soft breath, her fingers lightly stroking the back of his neck while she kissed her hair.

Her hand drifted up his thigh, finding the outline of his cock through the light fabric of his pants, and delicately stroking it, her light touch sending sparks through his body. He sighed with quiet pleasure.

"This feels nice," she whispered. "Should we... take it to the bedroom?"

"I'd like that," he said, his eyes shining. He stood, offering his hand, and walked with her to the other room. As they crossed the threshold, their lips met again, with shared promise of what was to come.

In the bedroom, she said, "Now it's my turn to see you."

"I hope your not disappointed, I'm kind of an office geek, and my body rarely sees the sun."

"We'll see," she said, "but I doubt you'll disappoint. What I've seen so far is already making my panties wet."

Aaron looked at her with surprise and a smile. He did not expect such boldness, but he liked it.

She was also surprised. "Oh my God, I can't believe I just said that!" she giggled.

"I like it," he said and chuckled a little.

Then they stood before each other and undressed, anticipation rising as they saw each other for the first time. Her movements were graceful, a dancer's poise, while his were rapid, evidence of his burning need. When they slipped into the bed, their bodies came together, fitting each other so naturally that they might each have been half of the same person, now reunited.

"I've wanted this for so long," Aaron confessed, his hand marking the curve of her hip as they lay face-to-face. "To be close to you like this."

"So have I," Renee replied, her voice soft but full of feeling as her fingers brushed over his chest. Their touches were gentle, each caress a whisper, drawing them closer until their breaths mingled and their hearts beat in time with one another.

When his fingers touched the damp place between her thighs, it was with a tenderness that made her sigh, as her world narrowed to the warmth of his touch. She reached for his cock in return, their movements a quiet dance of give and receive.

As their closeness grew, she whispered, "I need you, Aaron. Please." Her words were a plea, raw and honest, and he nodded, his eyes shining with love.

"Always," he said, moving to join with her. He entered her slowly and their union was gentle, a merging of hearts as much as bodies, each motion weaving them tighter together.

"I've never felt this way before," he admitted, his voice breaking with the intensity of his feeling for her.

"Neither have I," she whispered back, her arms clutching him as they moved as one.

The intensity of feeling built slowly, a rising tide that carried them both. When they reached the summit of their pleasure, it was a shared release--powerful and full of love--leaving them trembling in each other's arms, their bodies entwined as they held on tight.

"I'm so glad I'm here with you, like this," she said after several minutes, her voice soft against his shoulder.

"Me too," he replied, pressing a kiss to her hair. "This... this is everything I hoped it would be."

They made love several more times that night, and in many different ways. When the morning sun greeted them through the east window, they knew everything there was to know about each other's bodies and secret places.

Their lovemaking continued for months, sometimes at his place, sometimes at hers as they fell deeply in love.

One day, Renee said, "You should know I want babies. I want to be a mother--not now, but someday."

"Is this a warning?" he asked. "Like, get out before it's too late?"

She laughed. "No, just so you're aware. Maybe you don't want kids. Or maybe you need time to warm up to the idea."

"I haven't thought much about it," he said. "I'm not against it, someday."

"Someday works," she replied.

A month later, he found a nice apartment near the studio, and Renee moved in. The place had a great kitchen, and she loved cooking vegan dishes for him and was good at it. Her food was spicy, and he liked it, but supplemented it with meat when they ate out. She didn't mind, believing she would wean him off it.

His firm mandated vacation time to prevent burnout. At the start of their first vacation together, a month after she moved in, she said, "My darling, I know you work long hours. I don't resent it. It's who you are. But during this vacation, I claim your full attention."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He smiled. "I want nothing but to forget the office and focus on you."

She insisted she was serious. He promised to be all hers and kept that promise. Unlike colleagues who returned from vacations exhausted, he came back energized.

Their last vacation together was a week of hiking. It was in some hills west of Philadelphia. They stayed at a small hotel, and each day drove to different trails. The night before his accident, they dined nearby. He had chicken and she ate vegan, and they both drank Chardonnay.

Their hotel suite had a huge bathroom that featured a spa tub for two. Renee bought candles from the gift shop, and back in their room by 9 p.m., they were in the spa, with lights off and candles lit. They sipped wine in the cozy, romantic glow and focused only on each other.

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