A Real Love Story

This is a true story and all the events actually happened as described.

Every word of this story is true, exactly as it happened. Even though it took place years ago I remember the details as if it were yesterday.

This story begins many years ago when I was 24 years old and in my second year of medical school in Philadelphia. It was a very difficult time to meet females. This was before computer dating and since I had to devote most of my time to study, I had very little time and opportunity to meet members of the opposite sex.

Saturday night was my night to go looking. This particular night, fate brought me to a local bar where singles congregated. I tend to be more of a passive observer of life rather than an active participant. In a word, I was an introvert. Not the least bit outgoing, I was at the opposite end of the spectrum from "The life of the party." I was never comfortable approaching a strange woman and striking up a conversation. Once it was started, I had no problems but just that initial approach was difficult for me.

Years later I still had that problem. I was dating a psychologist, nothing serious, and asked her what a good opening line would be.

"Something really clever" I said.

She said "You don't need anything clever. Most guys don't have anything clever to say. You'r a good looking guy, just start a conversation."

"It's just not that easy" I replied.

She said "OK, lets have a little experiment. Lets go to a pickup bar, go in separately, you stay close to me and listen to what guys say when they hit on me."

I said "Hey, that sounds like fun. I might learn some clever lines. Lets do it."

I listened as she was approached by numerous guys who, much to my disappointment, came up to her and pretty much said "How are you doing?"

Afterwards, in an analysis of the evening, I said "So that's it. All they say is "How are you doing?"

She said "No, that's too formal. They don't say "How are you doing." "They slur it and make into one word like "Haayadoin."

I said sceptically that's it, "Haayadoin?"

She said "That's it. That's all you have to say. Just try it out. If a woman is interested, she will answer back and you'll be on your way."

I was still skeptical but I said, "OK, I'll give it a try."

The next time I saw a good looking woman sitting by herself at a bar, I sat down beside her and when she turned to see who just sat down, I smiled and said "Haayadoin?"

To my amazement, she responded in kind, smiled at me, and the hook was set the conversation was started and I reeled her in with ease.

I thought "Wow, all these years of trying to think of some clever approach, and that's all it took!"

But I digress. Since it was years before I acquired the afore mentioned magical phrase, I was just standing at the edge of the dance floor, observing the various life forms as was my usual practice. My attention was especially drawn to a particularly attractive, slim, animated female who always seemed surrounded by a group of admirers, both male and female. She was obviously an alpha female and the life of the party. Certainly not someone who was approachable by me, especially since I had not yet learned the magical greeting phrase. As my gaze wandered around the floor, looking for a female at the opposite end of the greek alphabet who might actually be approachable, suddenly there was the alpha female right in front of me, actually saying something to me!

I looked around to see if it was me she was really talking to or just talking through me at some alpha male standing behind me. When I realized she was talking to me, I stupidly said "What?"

She just smiled and said "Would you like to dance?"

A line from an old joke "Wood eye, wood eye" ran through my mind but I managed to say "Sure." "You bet" was not a popular phrase at the time.

It was a slow dance and when I had her in my arms, I realized she was thin, but not too thin, tall, but not too tall and very good looking with small features, perfect teeth, black hair cut short and blue eyes. In short, she was like a high performance sports car, good looking and built for speed. That night, I was in a zone with my bon mots, charm and wit flowing off my tongue effortlessly. She brought out the best in me even though we were clearly opposites. She was totally extroverted. She was the yin to my yang. Maybe opposites really do attract. At the risk of sounding immodest, she seemed attracted to me as well.

At the end of the evening, when I asked if I could give her a ride home, Chickie (her real name was Pat) said her girlfriend drove and she would tell her that I would take her home. As I got to know her, I found out it was her modus operandi not to drive, so that if she met a guy, she could leave with him. It turns out she lived not far from the bar, on a fairly busy street. I parked in front of her house, wondering if I should chance an attempt at a goodnight kiss, when she moved over to me, started kissing me and rubbing herself up against me.

She said "Please do me a favor and make me cum. I have to have an orgasm every night or I can't sleep."

Never in my young life had I encountered a female who was this straight forward and forthcoming! You have to remember, this was back in a time before females asked men to dance and before females really talked honestly to men about sex and a date was classified in baseball terms such as getting to first base, second base, etc. Here was a woman inviting me, practically a lifetime singles hitter, to home plate even before I knew the game had started! In any event, I quickly complied and slipped my hand under her skirt, and inside her panties which were already soaked from anticipation. I proceeded to play with her and in much too short a time she had a moaning, thrashing orgasm. She then sat up, thanked me, gave me her phone number and went into the house, leaving me in a state of aroused shock.

This was the beginning of a relationship like no other I had before or since. Chickie was TOTALLY sexually oriented. The term "nymphomania" did not do her justice. Nymphomania is defined as "Excessive sexual desire." Her response to that was that no one was oversexed, it's just that all the rest were undersexed! No matter what I said to her, she would take a sexual meaning or connotation from it.

Our relationship quickly evolved into going out every Wednesday and Saturday nights. I was not aware of it at the time, but looking back I realized she fit me into her schedule those nights without me realizing it until one time I asked her to go out on a Friday night.

She looked at me in amazement and said "Don't you realize that Wednesday and Saturday are your nights? I set aside two of the best nights of the week for you."

Obviously she meant the other nights of the week were reserved for others. The funny thing though was there was no jealousy between us even though we both dated others, and even talked in general terms about other dates, although her social life was far more active than mine.

When I would pick her up on my assigned night, if I asked her what she would like to do, she would look at me and in her sexy voice would just say "You know." Knowing that "You know" meant sex I would say, well, besides that, what do you want to do.

Her response would always be "I don't care."

I learned so much from Chickie about openness, both sexual and otherwise. She introduced me to playing Ravels, "Bolero" when we had sex. As soon as I heard it I realized what perfect background music it was for sex. Chickie could literally have an orgasm just listening to it.

Another time she told me she couldn't go out with me the next Saturday because she was going to a ski resort.

I said "But you don't ski or even ice skate."

She replied with a smile "I'm going there for the indoor sports."

As I got to know her better and knowing I was a medical student, she confided in me that she had a severe case of rheumatic fever as a child and it damaged her heart. The next time I saw her I brought a stethoscope with me and listened to her heart. To say it was damaged was like saying a head on collision was a fender bender. Her heart sounded terrible. I realized then that she was very sick and had a very short life expectancy. In another strange twist of fate, the cardiologist she told me she was going to was on staff at my medical school.

Amazing as it sounds, and I swear this is true, he came into class one day as a guest lecturer and presented her case! Call it fate, Karma or whatever but in a city of millions, I meet this girl in a bar and her medical history is now presented to me in medical school! I realized that whatever fate had in store for me, it revolved around Chickie.

When I saw Chickie I told her about her case being presented and much to my surprise, she became quite angry. We had never had a harsh word and I had never seen her angry like this before.

She said "How dare he invade my privacy like that."

I said, "He didn't give out your name, he just showed us x-rays of your chest and reviewed your medical history."

Chickie said "If he didn't give out my name, how did you know it was me."

I said "Well, he said this case was about a 21 year old female with heart damage who had a severe case of rheumatic fever as a child and when he showed the chest x-ray, I recognized the outline of your breasts on the film."

Chickie smiled at this and said "You recognized my breasts."

I said "That's because you have perfect breasts. If you look up breast in Grays anatomy, the picture of a breast is exactly like yours. Not too small, not too large, but just right. That's how I knew it was you."

I reached out and put my hand on her breast and said "I would know these anywhere."

She moaned and rubbed up against me, instantly turned on as usual as soon as I touched her. Now, don't get me wrong. Chickie was not just some oversexed bimbo. She was very intelligent, very quick witted, very sarcastic which I loved, and very funny in addition to being VERY sexy.

One time she said "When I come home from a date, I take my panties off and throw them against the wall. If they are still sticking there in the morning, I know I had a good time."

Whether consciously or unconsciously she knew she would not live a long life and I am sure she wanted to cram as much living and as much pleasure in the time she had on this earth as she could.

Another thing I really admired and respected about Chickie was that, even though her mother and sisters were very religious Catholics and Chickie had been raised and inculcated as a Catholic, she rejected religion. You would think that someone with a ticking time bomb in their chest would would embrace religion and hold onto it like an alcoholic clutching a bottle of scotch. Chickie had no time for religious dogma and I greatly admired her for that. She was not looking for a fire escape. Chickie had to cram as much living as she could in the short time she had and could not waste her time on prayers. She quoted me the cynical definition of prayer from Ambrose Bierce's "Devils Dictionary" which was, to wit: "To pray is to ask that the laws of the universe to be annulled in behalf of a single petitioner, confessedly unworthy." She was the only woman I ever met who could quote from Ambrose Bierce.

One night Chickie told me she was going into the hospital next week to have two of the valves replaced in her heart. Now this was back in the days when open heart surgery was fairly new but she showed no fear or apprehension about the coming surgery and just mentioned it in a rather matter of fact tone.

Surgery went well and she was in intensive care for a time afterward. At that time, visitors were not allowed in intensive care, so I went to visit her as soon as she got out on the regular post surgery floor. She had literally hundreds of get well cards in her room. In the back of my mind I wondered if they were all from former and present lovers. In any event, as we walked down the hall, she started literally rubbing up against me.

She said "I'm so horny I'm climbing the walls. Lets go back to my room and close the curtain around my bed and have sex."

I said "Are you crazy. You just came out of intensive care and your heart has not even had a chance to heal. You get too excited when you have sex. Your heart would be going a mile a minute and tear out the stitches. No way am I going to do that. I could see the headlines in the paper, MEDICAL STUDENT SCREWS CARDIAC PATIENT TO DEATH. Has sex with with patient in her hospital bed right after heart surgery."

Chickie laughed and said "I understand your concern, but I still need it."

I said well, "I'm sure you will get what you want but just not from me, at least not until you get out of here. Believe it or not, I care too much for you."

If you think I should not have been so cautious and should have taken care of her needs in the hospital, you have to understand the phrase "Fucks like a minx." If you ever saw a video of minx having sex, you would know what I mean. It looks like they are fighting. Rolling around, biting, kicking scratching when they have sex. Chickie literally fucks like a minx. I had to hold her arms down when I was in her because she would scratch and claw me with her nails. She would also bite, and bite hard. Not just little love nips. The funny thing was, that since she would go so completely crazy when she was having sex, she would literally not remember scratching, biting or any of that afterward. One time I didn't restrain her arms well enough and when I showed her the scratches she made on my back afterward, she was really surprised that she had done that to me and she had no memory of doing it.

We continued to see each other for the next two years until I graduated and had to leave for my internship. I took her out one last time and when I brought her home we sat and talked in the car about what I had been putting off saying all night. I told her I wished I could take her with me, but I wanted to get married and have children and I knew she could never survive a pregnancy. Also, I knew her insurance was not portable and if she quit her job, she would never be able to get another policy that covered further treatments she would need on her heart. We both cried as we said goodbye. I know this sound heartless and cruel, selfish and self centered. All of which is true. But have you ever had a relationship with someone where you could be TOTALLY honest and say exactly what you were thinking? Reveal your true self no matter how flawed and still be accepted? Ours was such a special and unique relationship. There was never any jealously or angry words between us. We both felt we could be completely honest with each other and we were. The funny thing was, that the word "love" was never mentioned. Looking back on it, I realize now that she was the only woman I ever really loved.

Sometimes I use to take her to her doctors appointment and wait in the car for her. She told me that she sometimes makes out with her doctor in his office. I told her that was fine if she wants to do that but I told her not do it while I'm waiting for her in the car.

She just said "OK, I will not do it when you drive me there."

Meaning she would keep doing it other times. That was the kind of relationship we had.

I got married to a nurse during my internship. Actually, I got her pregnant and we got married. I often thought about Chickie and wondered how she was doing.

I went to Pittsburgh where I was from and open up a family practice and just barely made expenses. In fact when I went to an accountant to do my taxes, I had made so little money he felt sorry for me and didn't even charge me. I soon realized the practice was going nowhere and that I had to get out. A doctor in Harrisburg was looking for a partner and so I drove there to interview for the job. That night I gave Chickie a call at home and her mother said she had her own apartment now and gave me her number. I called her and it was very noisy and she said she had a group of her girl friends over for a get together. I told her I was in Harrisburg and could get to Philadelphia soon if she would like to see me. She said she would get rid of her girl friends and gave me directions to her place.

When I got there, I walked up to the door and rang the bell. She came to the door, looking just as fine as ever. However, she didn't invite me in.

She saw my overnight bag and said "I don't hear from you in years and you think you can just walk in here and spend the night?"

My face fell and I said "Chickie, I'm married and have a kid. I can't just pick up the phone and call you or come and see you. This was my one chance to see you but if you don't want me here I understand."

She smiled and said "Oh, come on in. I just thought you deserved a little bit of a hard time after not hearing from you for so long. I missed you."

I said "I missed you too and think about you all the time. This will be a good night to make up for lost time."

We caught up on the news with each other for a while and then it was time to go to bed. Chickie was just as hot as ever and I made sure I held her arms down as there was no way I could explain scratches when I go home. However, she got very short of breath and we had to stop every few minutes for her to catch her breath. She wanted to keep on going however, until she was finally exhausted and fell asleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night I was awakened by a loud crash and I saw Chickie was not in bed. I got up to look for her and found her laying unconscious on the floor of her bathroom. When I revived her, she told me she was passing out frequently and would be going back in the hospital next week for more heart surgery. The next morning we woke up when her alarm went off but she said she wanted more sex so I was more than happy to oblige.

I said "Don't you have to go to work."

She said, "I don't care about work, I just want to have sex."

While she was wildly thrashing around in bed with one orgasm after another. A couple of her girl friends she worked with came to pick her up for work and rang the bell and pounded on the door.

I said "Shouldn't you open the door before they break it it."

She said "Don't let them bother you, they'll go away."

Nothing bothered her or distracted her when she was having sex. At one point the phone rang and rang but she ignored it too. Also, at one point I made the mistake of getting my face too close to her and she bit my cheek. My immediate thought was how I could explain a bite mark on my cheek when I got home. Finally, she was just too exhausted to move anymore.

She said with a smile "Wow, I forgot how good you are. Now I'm going to have to get rid of my boyfriend. He just doesn't measure up, if you know what I mean."

I said "Yes I know what you mean, you horny little minx. You are the best I ever had or ever will have. We are just so compatible in and out of bed. I will miss you like crazy."

She didn't want me to go and I didn't want to leave. I finally managed to drag myself away from her and as we said goodbye I think we both realized it was a final goodbye. I headed back to Pittsburgh while I thought of how to explain the bite mark on my cheek.

When I got home and my wife asked what happened to my cheek I said "You know that new adjustable blade razor I got? Somehow, the blade got opened all the way and I didn't realize it and started to shave and scraped my cheek like that."

Fortunately, she accepted the story.

About three weeks later, I got a letter from Chickie's mother who said she found my address in Chickies apartment. She wrote that Chickie went in for surgery and died on the operating table. Her heart was so badly damaged they were never able to get it started again. She was 25 years old. It wasn't a total surprise to me because I knew how sick she was, but I cried and it was a shock that I had to conceal from my wife. It took me a long time to recover and I'm not sure I ever have. After all these years she still lives in my thoughts and is still 25 years old in my mind and my eyes grow moist as I write this. She was always so full of life, I could not have imagined her ever growing old and she never will in my mind.