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She held me tight and whispered in my ear, "In just two weeks you're going to be doing this with Ginger." I groaned at the thought, not even able to comprehend what that was going to be like, "And you're going to be doing it with Shaun every night for those two weeks." I felt her shudder at that thought, two weeks in paradise with her very own Sex God. Their affair has been going on for six or seven months, long enough that they're totally enamored with each other and short sufficiently to be still exciting and fresh. We rolled over, Michelle on her back and made love, Michelle wrapping her legs around my back and interlocking her feet together. I tried not to think about Ginger because I wanted this last time to be all about my wife and me. After we'd come down from the high of our climax, we lay together with me spooning Michelle and my arm around her. The thought briefly flitted through my mind that there was a slim possibility that this could be the last time we made love with. Pale grey-green curtains covered a window, and around the edges fingers of bright light played across the neutral coloured walls. In my peripheral vision I saw a trolley with some random medical boxes blinking away. Looking down and finding a cannula in my left hand confirmed my suspicions.“Hello?” I croaked.Silence. I tried calling out again but my voice cracked into a series of pathetic weak coughs.“Jimmy?” said a sleepy voice.I turned my head to the left. My mother was pulling herself up right from where she’d obviously been slumped in an uncomfortable looking visitor’s chair. Someone had given her a pillow and her hair was flattened up the side of her head.“Hi, mum,” I said weakly.“Oh, Jimmy!” she cried, standing up stiffly and coming over to the bed. Gingerly she reached down and hugged me, trying to avoid the wires and tubes that were emanating from under the sheets. I tried to hug her back but moving my arms felt like moving through wet cement.“Shh, sweetie,” she said. “It’s.
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