When they’re off, I work my legs back to where they were and I lift my butt to set my pants beneath me.
“Like that,” I tell him.
“I still don’t know how we’re going to-” he starts.
“Just trust me.”
It’s not graceful or even remotely attractive, but he does manage to get his pants off and put beneath him.
“There,” I tell him. “The rest is easy.”
I put my left leg down on the floor of the car and I stand up enough for him to put his legs between mine. He slides down a bit, and I position myself over him.
I’m not going to say it’s not awkward, because it is, but once he feels my wetness on him, he seems to relax.
The particulars of the situation have him a little less than ready, so I lean forward and kiss him deeply on the lips and pull my shirt up just enough to encourage one of his hands underneath to rest on my breasts.
“You’re crazy, you know that?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I’m aware.”
I’m kissing his neck and working the front of his buttoned shirt open, trying to keep the car as still as possible as I go.
He reaches around under my shirt and unclasps my bra, giving him access to my waiting skin, and I’m reaching between both of our legs, grabbing his already growing cock and bringing it the rest of the way.
“Now,” I tell him, “no big movements.”
I slide up the length of him and put his tip at my entrance, feeling a renewed surge of adrenaline running through me.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” I tell him, and put him inside.
We move slowly and deliberately together, and his arms are out from under my shirt, wrapped around me now, holding me ever closer as he enters me sweetly, again and again.
The night air is getting cold, but I don’t feel it. I only feel him — his arms, his lips, his sex, and his love, warming and comforting me.
“So, you switched the medications for me, huh?” I ask.
His eyes are half closed and his voice is quiet as he says, “Yeah, I did.”
“That was very sweet of you. I don’t suppose you happened to get a look at my scans.”
“What was that?” he asks, his eyes opening.
“It doesn’t matter right now,” I tell him.
So here we are, somewhere between fucking and having sex and making love at the top of a broken-down Ferris wheel.
I’m out of a job, he’s suspended, but probably out of a job, too, and I’m still dying.
But I’m not dying today.
Today, I’m just learning to breathe.
Epilogue
Grace
A lot can change in five years.