What's Wrong With Me?

Emily just stopped talking, mid sentence and crumpled up at my feet. Of course an ambulance was called and although she recovered consciousness very quickly, she had another ‘thunderclap’ headache. She used to get these from time to time, but they stopped about a year ago. Now, it seems, they’re back. 

I wasn’t allowed to be with her while she was examined, but they took her straight into resus and from there to the MRI scanner which is where, inappropriately, we started (mis)behaving like a couple of schoolgirls. First, those stupid hospital gowns that open at the back. I mean really….when did a surgeon ever need to get to your arse in a hurry? They gave her two, one to fasten at the back and one to fasten at the front. Of course, this put her in just her panties and I could barely keep my hands off her. To fuck in a cramped little changing cubicle? In a hospital? If that wasn’t on my bucket list, it sure as fuck is now. We giggled and tickled one another and behaved, as I said, like a couple of schoolgirls. 

And she stood there in a little pair of white socks too….talk about needing to ravage her. But no…be good, Anna. I wasn’t allowed in the MRI room, and thank God this (private) hospital is equipped with the very latest scanner….not one of those tiny tunnel things. Emily disappeared behind the heavy door and I made the mistake of sitting down. Mistake, because it made me realise just how wet I was. 

But why? I’m scared out of my wits, yet all I can think of is fucking my wife. A memory stirs. There was an MRI scan of a couple making love done for a fertility program. I remember seeing the scan. Professor Alice Roberts (who Tig knows, apparently, and upon whom, I admit, I have a crush) describing in detail his penis deep in her vagina in cross section. I remember looking at Alice’s come-to-bed eyes and wondering how wet she was getting. Damn…THAT memory hasn’t helped at all! Fuck! 

I decide to go for a pee and to clean up. I know i’m a hot mess down there….worse than a hot mess. In the restroom even I am shocked at how wet I am. I’ve soaked not only through my panties, but the full width of the crotch of them too, and way further back and forward than usual. Honestly, if I’d have pissed myself it couldn’t be wetter.

But this isn’t pee….this is pure girl cum….or more accurately, girl pre-cum. I realise in that instant how urgently I need to cum. It’s obvious my wife, my soul-mate has some neurological thing going on, yet all I want to do is rub one out thinking about her. How inappropriate is that? I’m disgusted with myself. Disgusted to the point where I decide not to wank. I do need to clean up though. These undies are ruined…bin for them. Now, toilet paper. The first touch of it on my sex and I pour….quite literally…no exaggeration…pour! 

In seconds, I’m sitting down, frigging myself savagely, biting my bottom lip until I taste blood in my mouth. One hand clamped firmly against the partition as image after image of Emily flashes through my memory. The first time I saw her masturbate. The first time she peed her panties. The first time she fucked me using ‘Mike’. That time The Lovely Chris fucked her: she did that because she wanted to experience what I experienced. The time she and Dani fooled around. But what sent me into a cataclysmic orgasm is the first time she kissed me. 

I lose all track of time. The orgasm seems to empty my entire being. I’m not sure I didn’t pass out. When I recover, I feel physically better, but psychologically hideous. 

Back outside the imaging suite, we’re being told that if we are called back within two days, then there’s “…further tests needed.” If we don’t hear quickly, then it’s not serious. 48 hours of suspense then. 

I told her what I’d done. Of course I did. Emily being Emily said, ”Of course you needed to. You’re scared for me. You needed an outlet for it all….and, I bet you thought only of me.” I told her I did. “But I bet what made you cum was our first kiss.” I’m going to have to stop driving in a minute. She nudges me playfully in the ribs. “Hey…I’m scared too, you know.” Her knees barely move…but it’s enough. I stop the car and in seconds, I’m curled up in the footwell (one advantage of being small) and licking Emily out. She tastes divine….and when she cums in my mouth, I swallow as much as I can. 

Back home, as I write this, wondering whether to submit it or not, I still can’t reconcile my intensely horny feelings at a time when horniness should be the last thing I was thinking of. Someone out there might be able to shed some light on this…or maybe I’m just fucked up. 

(Editor's note: see tags.)