Date: Fri, 25 Feb 2011 21:05:19 -0500 (EST)
From: DOGG <nphillydogg@aol.com>
Subject: terminally ill-2

TERMINALLY ILL-2

	I pulled up to the Wright family brownstone at my usual time of
7am. I am the home care-person of a 40 year old terminally ill woman named
Amy Wright. At 7am I usually cook breakfast for both Amy and her husband
John (my employer), before he leaves for work at 8am. Usually he and I
speak briefly in the morning with him forewarning me what type of mood his
wife is in and what errands she may need for me to run outside the house
for her (John's wife is basically bed ridden). While John is eating, I
usually take a look in on Amy to see if she needs to use the powder room,
and ask what type of breakfast is she in the mood for. She usually eats dry
toast, tea with fresh cut lemon, a sliced grapefruit, poached egg or hot
cereal.
	But today was different. After our last encounter (Amy talked her
husband into allowing me [an out black gay man] to blow him with her in the
same bed), I expected John to avoid me like the plague, --and I wasn't too
far off the mark.

	I entered the house through the front door using my spare key. I
saw John's briefcase sitting at the foot of the stairs near the foyer as I
shook my wet umbrella off and placed it carefully in the stand. He was in
the kitchen when I yelled out "hello, I'm here...!." I heard him reply from
the back of the house as I took off my wet shoes and left them in the foyer
(the Wrights' had beautiful hardwood floors throughout the house). When I
walked into the kitchen, John (dressed in one of his usual impeccable work
suits) was putting his coffee cup in the sink for me to wash later.

"Good morning, Patrick!" he said, with his back to me.

"Good morning John. How's the wifey...?" I asked.

"She's surprising chipper today...!" he said, turning quickly to avoid eye
contact.


"You don't say..." I said, no doubt still reeling about last night.


"Yeah..." said John, in no real rush to talk about it. "...I'm headed into
the office early today..." he said, matter of fact.


"Is there a problem...?" I asked, toying around in the litchen.


"uh, no..." he said awkwardly, unable to think up a fast enough
excuse. "...I just, uh..., want to get a jumpstart on my day...!"


"Okay..." I said, "...have a good day."


"Thank you." he said, before hightailing it to the front door.
	Watching John squirm was kind of funny. I mean, I'd be lying if I
said I didn't have butterflies in my stomach thinking about what I was
going to say to him this morning..., but I think I handled it much better
than he did, after all, I have had more experience messing with men.

	Since I didn't have to cook breakfast for John this morning, I
threw a few things into the washer, poured Amy a hot cup of coffee (which
John had already blended), then took it upstairs for her. Amy was sitting
up in bed watching Good Morning America. She instantly hit the mute button
when I walked. In. "What would you like for breakfast this morning...?" I
asked, trying to ignore the unusual gleam in her eye.


"Fuck breakfast!" she said, abruptly. "I want to talk about last night!"


"okay..." I said, unsure what she was going to say.


"John LOVED it!" she said, enthusiastically.


"Really...?" I asked, surprised. "He didn't seem to mention it at all this
morning...!"


"He wouldn't, would he...?" asked Amy, as I placed her cup on the
nightstand next to her bed. "But I tell you, it was the most intimacy John
and I've had in MONTHS! It was beautiful!"


"I'm glad I could help." I said simply, checking the to see if there was
any laundry needing done in the basket.


"You did MORE than just help..." said Amy, "...you put passion back into my
marriage...! I can't thank you enough for doing that! For giving me back my
husband the way I remember him!"


"It was nothing, Amy..." I said, downplaying my involvement. Actually the
intimacy was between them (kissing and whispering sweet words to each
other), I was merely a vessel. "...I was happy to help."


"Really...?" asked Amy, questionably. "Because I KNOW it was a lot to
ask..., and looking back I really had no right to ask that much of you...,
you don't owe me anything like that!"


"Its okay, really..." I said, wanting to drop it.


"So you liked it...?" she asked suddenly out of nowhere.


"huh...?" I asked.


"Did you like sucking my husband's cock...?" she asked, bluntly. "Is it the
sort of thing you would like to do again...?"


"Why...?" I asked skeptically. "What are you getting at, Amy...?"


"Well..." said the middle aged white woman. "...I was hoping we could do it
again...? I mean, if YOU don't mind doing it and all...?"


"I don't know, Amy..." I said, hesitant. "...John doesn't seem too
comfortable with the idea...! He couldn't even look me in the eye this
morning!"


"Oh John's okay with it!" assured Amy. "He's just..., you know...!"


"Uncomfortable!" I said.


"Well..., he's a STRAIGHT man..." verified Amy. "...but he understands how
important this is to recover our intimacy...! He's okay with it, really!"


"I don't know, Amy..." I repeated. "...I don't want to do anything that
makes John feel uncomfortable..." I added. "...HE'S my employer too..., I
need him to be okay with having me around...!"


"He IS okay with it..." said mrs Wright, trying to convince me.


"I'm sorry, Amy..." I apologized, seeing the disappointment on her frail
face. "...but unless mr Wright comes to me himself and says he's okay with
me sucking his dick..., I'm going to have to believe he doesn't like it...!
I'm sorry!" I added before leaving the room.
	That day things were a little tense between me and Amy. She didn't
bring up her husband or blow jobs again, though I know it was never far
from her thoughts. I bathed her, washed her hair, set it for her, painted
her hands and toenails, cooked her a nice lunch (soup and a sandwich),
folded laundry, did a little light housework, and ran errands. By the time
John Wright got home that evening, I was ready to go.


"How was she today...?" he asked as soon as he got home.


"She was a little distant..." I admitted.


"She was...?" he asked surprised, sitting his briefcase down as he stroked
his chin thoughtfully. "Do you know why...?"


"I think you should ask her." I advised. "I left a plate for you in the
refrigerator..." I said, as I gathered up my belongings. "...see you in the
morning...!"


"oh, uh..., thanks Patrick...!" he said, walking me to the door as he
closed it behind me.


	The next morning I came to work as usual. I started coffee in the
brewer, then checked the fridge to see what was available for breakfast?
Today was grocery day, so I knew I had to head out to the store sometime
that morning.
	I was taking inventory of what was needed, when John came
downstairs, fully dressed.


"Pat...?" he called as I had my head in the pantry. "Can I have a word with
you...?"


"Sure John...!" I said, meeting him in the kitchen. "What would you like
for breakfast...?" I asked.


"oh..., anything's good." he said. "I had a talk with Amy last night..." he
started, getting right to it. "...she told me what you said about not
wanting to go through with anything that might make me uncomfortable...,
and I just wanted to let you know that I'm alright with what we did...!"


"Are you sure...?" I asked, curiously. "Cause you couldn't even look me in
the eye yesterday..."


"I know..." admitted John, honestly. "...and I'm sorry about that...! I was
just..., too embarrassed to face you...!"


"Because you were ashamed of letting a gay man suck your dick...!" I
stated.


"No..." he answered. "...I was embarrassed by how quickly I came...!" he
admitted, making me blush. "I never came that fast before...! I felt like a
dweeb!"


"It's okay..." I assured him. "...I know it'd been a long time since you'd
been intimate with anyone like that...!"


"Thanks for understanding...!" he said, gratefully. "So we're okay...?" he
asked, asking if I was okay with sucking his dick again?


"Yes..., we're fine!" I assured, shaking hands.


"Amy will be thrilled!" he said happily, but I couldn't help but notice
movement starting to happen in his pants as I looked down at his crotch.


"Do you, uh..." I started, not sure how to ask. "...do you need my help
right now...?" I asked.
	John glanced down at his crotch bulge, then embarrassingly tried to
hide it. "Don't be embarrassed..." I said, moving his hand aside. "...if
there's anything I can do to help..."


"I uh..." he stammered, hesitantly. "...I think Amy meant for you to only
do it with the TWO of us..., not alone...!"


"So you'd rather wait til tonight...?" I asked. John thought it over...


"No..." he answered, his dick print becoming more prominent.
	I couldn't resist reaching down and rubbing the front of his pants,
feeling the bulge through his slacks and boxer shorts.


"So you want me to suck it now...?" I asked, feeling the length of his
cock.


"yes..." he whispered, barely.


"Come with me..." I said, taking his hand and leading him into the living
room.


"No...not here...!" said John, sounding panicky.


"Just relax...!" I insisted, pushing him into sitting position as I knelt
down between his legs and started to undo his fly.


"Somebody might see..." he worried, looking at the windows.


"The gardener's not due til Saturday!" I reminded, reaching into his zipper
to free his cock.
	All protests stopped once I wrapped my hand around his dick and
pulled it free into the open. John sat transfixed as I openly stroked his
dick. Wetting my lips, I leaned inward and took his dick into my mouth and
started sucking. John moaned softly when my mouth surrounded his prick. I
licked and suckled about the head and shaft, before getting down to serious
business. I knew Amy was upstairs waiting for the results of our talk, so I
knew I didn't have long before she'd start to get antsy and starting
ringing her chime to get me to come upstairs.
	John's breathing began to deepen as I sucked. I bobbed my head in
his lap, lifting and lowering my lips along his cock shaft. Every few
minutes I'd start to suck deeper, taking his dick further into my mouth and
throat. John was sitting upright while I sucked, trying not to wrinkle his
suit before work. I buried my face in his crotch, smelling the fresh scent
of soap as I nestled mu nose into his pubes.


"Ohhhh...!" sighed John, loving the feel of my throat.


"shhh..." I reminded him, lifting up off his cock.


"Sorry...!" he whispered, as I dropped my head and got back on his
dick. "Oh god...!" he choked as I deep throated him to the root. I could
feel John's cock beginning to pulse as I started to bob my head again,
see-sawing my lips up and down his powerful shaft. I felt John's hand touch
onto the back of my head 9wanting to draw me deeper), but then he pulled
away, afraid I might be offended. I took his hand and roughly placed it on
the back of my head, making him force my head down further. John realized I
really didn't have a problem with it, and began pushing my face further
into his crotch. I sucked his dick deep, taking all 8 solid inches into my
throat with nearly every stroke.


"Oh god..., I'm coming...!" he warned, pushing me head all the way down
into his lap. I felt his cock wedge into my throat, just as the first of
many spurts of warm creamy cum shot down the back of my throat. "Oh god...!
Oh god...! Oh god...!" he panted after every spurt.
	I held my face planted in his balls as he shot his entire load into
my stomach. When his hold finally began to loosen, I lifted my head slowly,
dragging my lips back up his throbbing shaft as I gathered the last of his
cum in my mouth, collecting it on my tongue.


"Sorry..." he apologized. "...I'm sorry..., I didn't mean to cum like that
again...!"
	I continued to hold John's cock in my mouth, working the shaft as I
milked it of the last of its juices before removing my mouth and
swallowing...


"Its okay, John..., really...!" I smiled, licking my lips.


"You SURE...?" he asked politely, wondering if it was okay that he came in
my mouth?


"Yes, I'm sure...!" I said, licking the last cum drops from his dick tip
before standing.


"Wow..." said John, also standing as he tucked his (still hard) cock and
zipped up. "...I really appreciate you doing this for us..." he added,
"...for me...!"


"Anytime!" I said, honestly. I mean, I LIKED sucking dick, and since I had
no steady boyfriend to drain on a regular basis, why not drain my
employer...?
	Just then I heard Amy's bell...


"I'd better go see if she's alright...!" I said, heading for the steps.


"Pat..." called John, pulling me back. "...this stays between you and me,
right...?" he asked, as if unsure. "I really don't want Amy thinking we're
doing things behind her back!"


"Oh, of course not!" I agreed, giving him my word.
	John stayed downstairs and made himself more presentable for work
while I went upstairs to face Amy, popping a breath mint first to make sure
she doesn't smell her husband on my breath. John left for work while I was
upstairs attending to Amy, letting her know that John and I worked things
out for future encounters. Amy was beside herself, eager to have another
intimate date with her husband...



Written by
NPhillydogg@aol.com
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