1. Like Pieces of a Jigsaw Puzzle--Part 3


    Date: 10/14/2015, Categories: Fiction, Consensual Sex, Death, Domination/submission, Romance, Author: senorlongo, Rating: 80, Source: sexstories.com

    and sex. He didn’t just have ”The Talk” with them, he had a series of discussions complete with diagrams he’d found on the internet. He scheduled them when I was home and available, but it was very clear to me that they trusted him and looked to him for advice. Our daughters knew as much about sex as their sex ed. teachers. We never had to worry about them being drugged or tricked into sex and they always had condoms in their purses even though Henry put all of them onto the pill when they turned thirteen. I often laughed when I thought of Henry in the OB/GYN office with his daughters even though they wanted him to be there with them. All of our girls had graduated from excellent universities and were successfully married by the time Henry and I were sixty. We became grandparents a year later, probably the only grandparents still making love at least once every day. That’s when I decided I would retire at sixty-five. We had more than forty million dollars in investments, ten of which I had inherited when Daddy passed away only a year ago. Unfortunately, God and Mother Nature had another idea—the Big C. It was a routine physical, begun with the normal blood tests and a follow-up appointment a week later. All of the partners at Rizzo, Rizzo, and Samuels had one every year. I wasn’t too concerned when the doctor suggested some additional tests, including a whole body MRI, but the following week she asked to see both Henry and me together. “It’s cancer, Nancy.” “Okay…what do we ...
    do? Chemo? Radiation? Can’t most cancers be cured these days?” I should have known when her face turned white. “Yes, most are curable. Based on your tests it appears that you have pancreatic cancer. That’s one of the most difficult to treat. We need to operate as soon as possible. It appears to be somewhat advanced.” They did and I spent the next six months undergoing radiation treatment and another six in chemo. It turned out that I had suffered for more than a year for nothing. The cancer refused to die. I became weaker and weaker. My weight dropped all the way down to 80 pounds by the time I knew I had less than a month to live. “Take me home, Henry. If I’m going to die I want to do it in my own bed.” Henry always followed my orders. That brought me to where I was today—leaning back against my pillows while Henry sat in tears at the side of my bed, his hands gently holding mine. Looking up I could see my daughters and their husbands crying behind him. The girls all had their hands on Henry’s shoulders. I realized then something I should have known decades ago—they were his daughters--not mine. They were crying because of the anguish he was experiencing, not because I was dying. “Henry,” I whispered, “come closer.” He did and my weak fingers opened the clasp to the chain around his neck. “You’re free, Henry. You’re no longer my slave.” “No, Nancy—I’ll always be your slave. I’ll be yours forever.” He replaced the chain as my eyes closed for the last time. I walked into the ...
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