A Wife's Gift: A Halloween Romance <*> {Redman}
(c) October 2000  

<!--ADULTSONLY-->  

Authors Note: The lack of story codes for this work is 
an intentional device of the author. An author's note 
at the end explains my reasoning. If you think that 
might offend you, please accept my invitation not to 
read this story. I would be interested in any comments 
or corrections that readers might care to share with 
me. I can be reached at redman@seductive.com.  

If you're a minor or it is illegal where you live to 
read erotic literature with frank sexual themes, 
please to not read this work of fiction.   


A Wife's Gift: A Halloween Romance


   When I was a boy it was hard to even think about 
being married, much less married for twenty years. I 
was only a young man when I met Janet, just 
nineteen. I had gone to a party with a friend on 
Halloween, but I didn't know anyone. It was an older 
crowd than I was used to. My buddy was dating the 
hostess's younger sister, so as soon as we got there 
he split on me to be with her.

   A girl dressed as a pirate asked me to dance. Even 
though we were both masked, there was something about 
her that I found alluring. She was forward enough to 
ask me to dance, but she was shy and elusive too.     

   The pretty pirate was Janet. From that dance on we 
were together. We left the party with her sister and 
her sister's date to get some coffee. We talked for 
hours, learning about each other, shyly flirting with 
one another. 

   She was 23 and fresh out of college, working on her 
first real job. I had quit school after three 
semesters and was a bookstore manager at the mall. It 
was my first real job too. The pay was lousy and the 
hours were long, but I thought I was doing something 
special.

   Neither one of those jobs lasted in the long run, 
but our relationship did. On the third night I knew 
her, Janet took me to her apartment. It was mostly 
empty because she spent almost all of her time at her 
parent's house. I remember looking in her refrigerator 
and there was nothing but a carton of orange juice and 
a jar of honey. 

   That night I willingly lost my virginity, but I 
unintentionally found the love of my life. The one 
woman that I wanted to grow old and gray with.

   We lived together for a year and a half. We were 
never apart. We married.     

   Three years later we had our only child. I was in 
the delivery room when they induced labor. I saw Lisa 
being born. I held her in my arms and she was quite 
small. It was one of the best days of my life - of our 
young lives.

   It wasn't always easy, those twenty years. We went 
through ups and downs, but through everything we had 
each other. We worked. We raised our daughter. We 
lived simple lives that were centered on our mutual 
love and respect.

   Shortly after our twentieth anniversary, Janet 
began experiencing discomfort during intercourse. We 
had always had an active sex life. I can't say we were 
the most adventurous couple, but we both most enjoyed 
pleasing the other. We fulfilled each other's physical 
needs as easily as we fulfilled each other's emotional 
and spiritual needs. We had always just seemed to -
fit- together.

   Her OB/GYN ran test after test. A week or so later, 
they did a biopsy. Janet had pre-cancerous uterine 
cells. In June she had minor surgery, scrapping the 
lining of the uterus and removing a few polyps that 
concerned her doctor. They put her on medication. She 
recovered gradually. In September, the symptoms 
recurred. Janet's doctor told her that the only 
course of action was a hysterectomy.

   We were worried, of course, but it's a common 
procedure. We thought we were happy with just Lisa, 
but in the days before the operation, Janet began to 
mourn all the children she had never born and now, 
never would. After a while though, we laughed uneasily 
about it together. We were both in our forties. 
Neither one of us had wanted children that late in 
life.

   I was holding Janet in our kitchen several days 
before her surgery, silently expressing my love for 
her. Lisa was in the dining room where we could see 
her, gathering her books for school. She is long and 
willowy like her mother used to be. I never knew Janet 
at seventeen, but at twenty-three she had looked 
a lot like Lisa looked right now. She was tall, 
thin and graceful. Lisa could have been a dancer but 
had chosen to play piano and take voice lessons.

   "I think the one we had turned out pretty nice. She 
reminds me of her mother, don't you think?" I asked 
Janet, both of us looking at our daughter.

   "I don't remember being that thin, and I don't think 
I was ever that beautiful," Janet replied. Her body had 
changed over the years, but she was always that beautiful 
to me. Janet had gone from a 34B to a 38D as she had aged 
and gained weight, but I loved her body and her breasts 
through all their changes.  She was a lovely, passionate 
woman and she was my wife.

   I remember sitting in the waiting room with her 
family. I hate hospitals and was nervous about Janet 
being in surgery, but everything was fine so far. I 
had seen her as they were giving her the initial 
injection to put her under. I had kissed her gently. 
Her last words for me were not to worry. That was 
funny for both of us. Janet was always the worrier.

   One moment everything was fine, there in the 
waiting room. Then I felt it. It was like a sudden 
wave of sadness and loss washing through me. The depth 
and abruptness of it overwhelmed me, like a sudden 
punch in the midsection. I knew, without knowing why, 
that something was terribly wrong.

   As I began running to find Janet, the nurse that 
had administered her injection was coming toward me. 
She grabbed my hand and led me to a set of doors to a 
surgery room and told me to wait outside. The doctor 
had to talk to me.

   When he walked out, there was so much blood. At 
first, it reminded me of the day that Lisa was born, 
but this was different. He said something about 
complications. They were still trying. Don't give up 
hope.

   As he walked back through the doors, I slid down 
the wall until I couldn't slide any lower. The doors 
to surgery swung back and forth three times until they 
stopped.

   I remember it more clearly than a million other 
more important facts that I have forgotten over the 
years. The doors swung back and forth three times 
before they stopped.

   Whatever the doctor thought he was working on, it 
wasn't Janet. Janet was gone. It was as clear and as 
profound a thought as I had ever had. Wherever she 
was, she wasn't here. And a part of my soul went with 
her.

   I held together for a while. I arranged the Mass. I 
bought the plot. I spoke to the lawyers that Janet's 
sisters wanted to hire. They said someone had screwed 
up. There would be damages. I got mad for about a 
minute and a half and broke some things. Then the gray 
numbness returned. Nothing that lawyers could do would 
bring Janet back. I told them to do whatever they 
wanted. They could do anything except ask me to 
care.

   I wasn't a very good father just then, I suppose. 
Lisa and I mourned together once. I held her that day 
and for just a moment, I cared about someone else. Her 
hair was a rich black, her dress a deep, royal blue 
and her nose was as red as mine from the tears. But as 
soon as the moment ended, all of the color drained 
from my life again and the gray numbness returned.

   Lisa stayed with a friend one night and I drank 
myself into a stupor. But it didn't help.  Neither did 
the sleeping pills. My doctor prescribed anti-
depressants but somehow it seemed wrong to take them. 
They couldn't fill the emptiness in my soul.

   On October 31, our parish had a Mass in preparation 
for All Saints Day on November 1. The priest had made 
a special point in inviting me. It was a Mass to honor 
all those that had died this year. We had never been 
particularly devout, but Janet had gone to Mass more 
often, especially on holidays. It sounded like 
something she would have gone to. I felt I needed to 
go in her place.

   But there was no consolation there. Even when they 
read her name, I didn't feel anything. Janet wasn't 
there. Nothing that the priest said brought her back 
to life for me or filled the emptiness. It was worse 
than being numb. I left, vowing to never go back.

   I went home and Lisa was preparing to go to a 
Halloween party. She asked me if it was alright if she 
went. I should have cared I suppose, but I couldn't. 

   I sat in our den as the sun set, watching the 
shadows cross the floor as night fell. The sounds of 
her preparation floated through the house: a bath 
running, a hair dryer and an occasional fragment of an 
aria in Italian that she would sing. I heard without 
listening. I sat without thinking.

   She came bounding down the stairs on her long legs 
and as soon as she saw me she started fussing that I 
was sitting in the dark. It was too much like 
something her mother would have done. My grief 
threatened to overwhelm me once more, but I pushed it 
back. My daughter didn't need to see it anymore. Not 
when she was finally going out again. I realized I 
hadn't heard her singing since before Janet died.

   Lisa hugged my neck in the darkness and told me not 
to wait up. I wish I could have given her more. I had 
been such a terrible father lately. But I felt too 
empty to give anything else.

   I should show some interest in her life, I thought. 
At least I could fake it, for her mother's sake.

   "Will you be late?"

   "Not too late, Dad. Mary will drive me home."

   "What are you wearing to the party?"

   "The only thing I could throw together at the last 
minute. I didn't know if I would feel like going. Turn 
the light on by your chair and tell me if it looks 
OK."

   It wasn't an exact match. She had on the same black 
leotards and the same type of black body suit. She had 
made the hat a little different, but the felt eyepatch 
was about the same.

   The pirate that stood before me could have been the 
same one I had met twenty-two years before. If she had 
asked me to dance, it might have been more than I 
could have borne.  Somehow I choked out that she 
looked lovely and turned the light out as quickly as I 
could.

   As soon as she was gone, that same wave of grief 
swept over me again. More grief than I could abide. I 
lay on our bed and I cursed God. I cursed the whole 
universe that would take away the one person I cared 
about more than anything else in the world. She 
deserved to live more than I did. Why not me, instead?

   I had grieved for a month. Tonight, I felt the last 
full measure of grief.

   I slept, exhausted. When I awoke, I was naked on 
the bed. One instant I had been overwhelmed by 
sadness. The next, everything changed.

   There was dim light coming through the blinds of 
the window. I could see well enough to know that I was 
alone, but I had a sudden sense I was not. The LED 
clock read 11:58.

   For the first time in a month, the overwhelming 
emptiness was gone. Even through my stuffy nose, I 
could smell Janet. I had lived with her for more than 
twenty years. I knew her as intimately as any man had 
ever known anyone. I couldn't see her, but she was 
here. It didn't make sense, but she was here. The 
emptiness that was in my soul was filled. She was 
here.

   The air thickened and swirled. I felt Janet touch 
me, first, lightly on the cheek. I tried to grab her, 
but there was nothing. Then I felt her hands and lips 
on my chest, moving sensuously over my body. When they 
reached my groin, I was instantly erect. All the 
passion of our twenty years together seemed to fill me 
in a moment.

   I pleaded to see her - to hold her. There was 
nothing but the gentle swirling air and the fragrance 
of my dead wife in the air.

   Then as suddenly as the air had stirred, it 
stopped. Her fragrance lingered, but began to fade. 
Even so, she was still here. I could still feel her.

   In the sharp quiet, I heard footsteps. I could hear 
her. Janet was coming. I could feel her presence, 
walking toward me in the darkness. Then I saw her, 
beautiful and naked, walking toward the end of our 
bed.

   Janet looked at me with those wonderful eyes that 
always read my soul. I could feel her love and her 
passion for me. She began to crawl on the bed toward 
me, her bottom sticking high into the air as it always 
did.

   When Janet reached my waist, her head dipped 
familiarly toward my shaft, engulfing me in a moment. 
She took me deeply in her warm mouth, like she always 
did to tease or reward me for some pleasure I had 
given her. Then she pulled back and her tongue 
lavished the head in recognizable ways, licking the 
surface lovingly. She had done this a thousand times 
and a thousand times it had made me shiver.

   But I had missed her too long for even this 
delight. The next time she engulfed me, I put my hands 
deep into Janet's hair and drew her up toward me. I 
needed to hold her so badly.

   I grabbed her fiercely, pulling her toward me and 
holding her as firmly as anyone who has felt so great 
a loss can hold. I tasted her sweet breath and those 
lovely, familiar lips and the tongue that knew my own 
so intimately. Janet always loved to kiss and we 
shared a kiss like I have never shared with any other 
woman except her.

   She raised her leg, taking my penis in her hand 
with practiced ease, placing the head at the entrance 
of her sex. She slowly eased herself down on me, 
smiling that same hungry smile she always gave me on 
first penetration. Before she took it entirely, she 
let me reach down and spread her labia gently with my 
thumbs like we both enjoyed so much. Then she set down 
firmly until we fitted together perfectly once more.

   We held each other. The warmth of her, the smell of 
her, the feeling of being buried inside her was all I 
needed to feel whole. For the first time since Janet's 
death, I felt alive. We were suddenly both crying. But 
there was no sadness - only a bittersweet sorrow that 
it had been so terribly long.

   We began to move together with the practiced ease 
of long familiar lovers. Each touch was not just the 
sensation of flesh on flesh; it was also the memory of 
every time we had touched like that before. It was 
twenty years of passion and love. It was twenty years 
of intimacy and pleasure.

   Our longing rose together, perfectly matched in our 
need for completion and yet with the same strong 
desire to make this moment last forever.  Her hips 
began to slow from exhaustion so I grabbed them and 
thrust myself into her more forcefully. When she 
leaned backward and took her nipples between her 
fingers and her thumbs, as she liked to do, I knew she 
was very close. Each thrust became more precious. Each 
movement brought us closer to an end.

   We arched together like two bows straining and 
quivering, vibrating in tandem until the aching arms 
of the archers can bear no more. Then we sprang 
together in release, her warmth flooding over me, my 
warmth spurting into her. We stared wide-eyed, 
overwhelmed by the sensations of mutual ecstasy.

   It was my daughter Lisa's body that raised up off 
of me. It was my daughter Lisa's body that lay on my 
left side, nuzzling in to me.

   But it was my wife Janet that took my nipple in her 
mouth and suckled it, just as she always did when she 
wanted to be comforted after sex.

   And it was Janet that spoke to me with Lisa's 
sleepy voice.

   "I can't come back again, Robert. You have to keep 
on going. Lisa needs you now."

   "I know Janet, but I've been so lonely. You just 
don't know."

   "I know, love. Don't you think I felt it too?"

   "I didn't know you could. If I had just had a 
chance to say goodbye. That's all I really wanted."

   "It's not goodbye, love. It's never goodbye for you 
and me. I'll always be with you."

   I held her for a time in silence, wanting it to 
last forever.

   "Thank you for coming back. Thank you for giving me 
this one last chance."

   "I wouldn't have missed this for the world, 
Robert. You're my one true love."

   "Janet, what will I do without you?"

   "You'll go on. You still have Lisa. She's shared 
this with us willingly, Robert and she'll want more. 
Don't deny her."

   "I can't do that Janet, she's our daughter!"

   "You better do it, or I'll come back to haunt you!" 
she said, chuckling. "It's only for a while and as much 
for her as you. She's promised to another, even though 
she doesn't know it. He's almost as special as you 
are. But only almost."

   "Will I be with you again, eventually?"

   "You're always with me, my love. But it will be a 
while yet."

   "All right Janet, I'll do what I have to do. But I'll 
never stop loving you."

   "I know, love. Now sleep. I have to go."


************

Author's note: I hope no one is offended by the lack 
of story codes. For my own part, I feel as though they 
should be {MF rom}, but some people might well be 
offended by that and want a {Mf inc} code. Such coding 
would not only offend the spirit of the story (pun 
intended), but it would give away what little surprise 
I didn't foreshadow too obviously. I would be 
interested in any feedback on this subject. I can be 
emailed at redman@seductive.com.