Please Remember Me Tomorrow

AUTHOR'S NOTE AND WARNING TO READERS: My first real attempt at writing something a bit more loving and romantic. The story features primarily vaginal sex, but there's a thumb that slips into the wife's butt at one point too - so beware, if that's not your thing!

It is a work of fiction, and all of the characters in the story are above the age of eighteen.

Furthermore, all of my material is of course copyrighted.

--- PLEASE REMEMBER ME TOMORROW ---

"Where am I? Who are you!?"

I looked at the woman across the table from me. How did I get here? Why am I here? My thoughts felt scrambled, as if all the wires in my brain were crossed, or had melted into paste. I clutched the side of the table and shook my head. The only thing I knew was that I was not supposed to be here.

"Calm down, honey!" the woman said. There was a sadness in her grey eyes that felt familiar somehow. I knew she wasn't a threat to me, but I couldn't pinpoint why. She got to her feet and swiftly embraced me - held me in her arms as if she were my mother, or my sister, or my lover. Her heart pounded wildly beneath her breast as if it would burst free from the cage of her ribs, and the sound filled my mind.

"You're okay, Daniel," she whispered in my ear. "It's going to be alright."

I wrapped my arms around her, held her tightly, and began to sob. The terror and confusion I felt was indescribable. Where was I? Who was this woman who spoke with me with such kindness, and how did she know my name? How did I know my name?

"I.. I feel so confused" I managed to get out. "I don't know where I am. How did I get here? What's happening?"

She pulled away from me and looked me in the eyes. "Listen to me, Daniel. Listen carefully. You were in an accident a few months ago. It caused a hemorrhage in your brain, and now you suffer from memory loss regularly. But you're safe. You're safe, Daniel." The speech came well-rehearsed and some part of me understood that she had said all this to me before, perhaps many times over. Yet it was so difficult to process the information. I had a million questions, but it was impossible to ask them. I could feel myself drifting into a stupor again.

"My.. my head.." I said groggily, reaching up to rub my temple.

"You'll be okay in a minute. I promise." she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. I could see tears forming in the woman's eyes. It hurt me that I had made her upset. She was an elegant looking lady with dark hair that fell around her shoulders in waves. Her nose was sharp and a little pointed, and she wore makeup around her eyes that made them stand out like pyrite prisms in the evening sun. Her scent reminded me of blackberries and freshly fallen rain on grass. I wanted to remember her - to commit her face and voice to memory forever, but all I could do was stare blankly into the distance as if my brain was still in shock.

The room I was in seemed ordinary enough - it was a kitchen with linoleum tiles, a window with yellowed curtains pulled back to let in the sun, and a table with four chairs surrounding it. There was nothing strange or special about it. Nothing that told me that this was not the place I had always lived. Or the home of a complete stranger.

"I am so sorry.." I said, feeling a mixture of shame and confusion. "But I feel so lost. I don't mean to hurt your feelings, but.." I spoke slowly, and yet I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence. But I didn't have to. A tear rolled down the kind woman's cheek, and it hurt me immensely.

"I'm Beatrice." she said as she brushed the tear away with the back of her hand. "I'm your wife."

Beatrice. The name resonated within my soul - like a key fitting into some hidden lock at exactly the right moment. I was beginning to understand a bit more, but even that knowledge felt tenuous. I still had no idea who I was. How I had come to be here. Or what this beautiful woman had done to make me feel such immense love. But I knew her, somehow. Her face, and the sound of her voice. At least some part of me did, because I understood right away just how precious she was to me.

"I'm Daniel" I said, foolishly, as if we had just met for the first time. She giggled at that, through her tears.

"I know." She said, and reached for some paper towel to blow her nose with. I studied her carefully as she reached across the table. Her curves were voluptuous beneath the clothes she wore, and the smell of her skin was intoxicating. There was no denying how attractive I found her. Yet despite our apparent relationship, she was a total stranger to me. I tried to hold her gaze, but it became too overwhelming and I turned away momentarily.

"We're been married for four years." She said, after sitting back down in the chair across the table from me. I could see a look of compassion in her eyes. But also something else - sadness, or maybe resignation. As if she'd said all of this before as well, and expected the outcome to be exactly what she was seeing in front of her now. I could feel the cogs in my head turning, as I was trying to make sense of the situation. This is what a mind would do, when it has been subjected to so much stress. I imagined I was a broken robot trying to put itself back together - spinning and sparking, as I sought out missing pieces and tried to connect them together again in their rightful spot.

"We.. We've had this conversation before." It was not a memory - it was a deduction. "Several times."

"Yes. Yes we have, Daniel."

I felt my lower lip quivering. This was so hard to process. "I know only two things right now, Beatrice.." I swallowed hard, trying to compose myself. "That I trust you, and that I love you immensely."

She reached across the table and took my hand in hers. Her palm was warm and soft, and it sent a shiver down my spine. Beatrice gently stroked my hand with her thumb, and for some reason that made me feel better - it helped calm the anxiety and panic I was feeling. My stomach turned over itself a few times before I finally spoke again.

"But I can't remember you.." I said slowly.

Her brow furrowed at this. "No.." she sighed, "you can't. You have no idea who you are. Or who I am." Beatrice swallowed hard and released my hand, reaching instead for her purse sitting in the chair beside her. It was black with a simple silver zipper, and she rummaged around in it for a few moments. Eventually, she came up with a photograph of a couple in their mid 30's, who had just gotten married. The woman - Beatrice - was wearing a flowing white dress with lace around the neckline, and the man was standing beside her in a grey tuxedo had his hands clasped tightly in front of him. I recognized the man right away. It was me - I was sure of it, somehow, though I couldn't explain why.

Suddenly something came over me. "If.. If I lose my memory frequently, am I still able to be a good husband? No - wait, please don't answer that.. Instead.. Help me be a good husband now! What can I do to.. To make you happy?" I could feel the confusion in my own voice. How lost I was. But all I knew is that I desperately needed her to be happy. Because she seemed so sad. So forlorn. And I was the one that was making her that way.

This seemed to completely catch her off-guard, based on how wide her eyes went. Her lips parted for just a moment, and I imagined she was about to say something, before she changed her mind and clamped her mouth shut. The corners of her lips turned up slightly in a nervous grin, as if she wasn't quite sure how to handle the question. It was adorable, though it broke my heart to see her in such an emotional state. She reached up and tousled her hair with her hand and took another deep breath, as if preparing herself for what she had to say next.

"Honestly, Daniel - all I want right now is for you to be well. The doctors tell me it won't ever go away completely, but there are things we can do to help you." she spoke quietly as she traced the tabletop with her index finger. "One day, perhaps your memory will improve a little bit. The experts say that the human mind is capable of adapting to the most extreme of circumstances sometimes."

"Okay" I said, nodding my head solemnly. But I didn't feel okay with it. This woman, she was all I knew. The only person in the world now that mattered. I stood up, and gently put my hand on Beatrice's shoulder. She looked up at me. Her grey eyes were as stormy as a winter sea. I could feel her tremble beneath my fingers, but it was a good thing. There were emotions stirring deep inside of her - raw, intense feelings of affection that went far beyond mere infatuation. I could feel it in her voice. And I could feel it in my own chest when I heard the love she had for me.

I pulled her up on her feet, as gently as I could. "What.. What are you doing, Daniel?" She sounded anxious, but also thrilled. Her pupils were dilated - she was almost scared, and aroused at the same time. I could feel it from her touch. I could feel the goosebumps rising on her skin. My lips met hers in a sweet and tender kiss, and we embraced in the kitchen. I let my tongue caress hers in a myriad of ways, as if I couldn't get enough of her. Beatrice trembled again, this time even more intensely. I could feel her warm breath on my cheek as she exhaled from her nose. I held her close, and stroked her long hair, while she wrapped herself around my frame. We must have kissed for several minutes.

As I pulled away slightly, keeping her held firmly in my arms, she rested her face against my chest. "You've never done that before.." she whispered.

"Why would I not kiss you? You're so beautiful."

"I.. I don't know." she said quietly. But I could feel her shaking, and I knew what that meant. The wet spot I felt growing on the front of my shirt was all the proof I needed to confirm my suspicions. "It's.. it's okay.." Beatrice said, as she pushed me back away from her slightly. "I just.. need a minute." she stammered. Her cheeks were flushed. And her breath was ragged - as if she were recovering from a marathon. Her eyes told a different story though. She looked torn - happy, but emotionally overloaded. Her legs were unsteady beneath her, and I could see she needed something - support, perhaps, or a nice chair to sit down in.

"Are you alright?" I asked, still holding her hands gently in mine. I felt almost sheepish after that kiss. "It was just.." I paused.

"Just?"

"How long has it been since we last kissed?" I asked her, unable to finish my previous thought. Beatrice tilted her head back, as if to look at the ceiling in thought.

"A.. a week?" she answered, looking unsure herself. "And you've never kissed me during the first few hours of finding yourself again. Sometimes your memory loss occurs multiple times per day. Sometimes, you.. You seem a little unsure of our relationship, or what I mean to you. As if I am a stranger. It makes me feel like you're afraid of me." she said sadly. "It really hurts, Daniel.."

I don't know what came over me then, but I lifted her up in my arms. She gave a startled gasp as I did so, and instinctively put her arms around my neck. It felt natural for me to hold her, just as it felt natural for her grab my shoulders. One of her hands ran through my hair and caressed my scalp, but there was something else about that gesture that struck me. A look of desperation in her eyes. As if she needed the intimacy to heal some sort of invisible wound deep within her heart.

"Where is our bedroom?" I asked her, as I carried Beatrice down the hallway. She pointed at the door on the left. I pushed it open gently and carried her over to the bed, laying her down across the mattress carefully. I crawled into bed with her and wrapped my arms around her body once more - held her tight as if my life depended on it, pulling her on top of me, with her cheek rested on my chest. We held each other like this for a minute or so. It felt so strange, in so many ways. I didn't recognize the room I was in at all, and yet I fully knew how to express my love for this woman. For my wife.

"Do we make love..?" I asked. I felt embarrassed even asking the question. I had never wanted anything more than to be with this woman in this way, but I was ashamed that I could not remember it. And I thought it important that I do not make this lovely lady - my wife - uncomfortable in any way.

"N-Not since the accident.." she said with a hint of trepidation in her voice.

"Why?" That was all I could think to say. It didn't make any sense to me. I wanted nothing more than to please this woman, to make her mine, to hold her close. To feel her naked body next to mine. I did not understand why I wouldn't throw myself at her every chance I got, memory loss or no.

"Sometimes.. Sometimes you don't want to sleep in the same bed." Her voice quivered as she spoke. "Because you don't recognize me, and.. I guess it feels awkward to you, to be next to a stranger."

I didn't want to make this beautiful, tender-hearted woman any sadder than she already was. So I stopped asking questions, and ran my hand gently up and down the curve of her back instead. I kissed her temple softly and whispered soothing words in her ear. I didn't know what I was saying - but it made Beatrice purr with delight, and it pleased me immensely.

I sat up on the bed, and locked eyes with her. With my wife. She looked up at me through her long lashes, and I knew right then that I wanted nothing more than to please this woman - to take care of her, to show her the depths of my love, to make her feel better even when she was in pain. I understood how much I needed her. And I wanted to do whatever I could to show her that I appreciated her, and loved her, and wanted nothing more than to make her happy.

I slowly unbuttoned her dress with my fingers. It seemed to excite her, but I didn't rush. Beatrice remained perfectly still, only moving when it was necessary for me to pull the garment off of her shoulders. I tossed it across the room, not even paying attention where it fell. She wasn't wearing a bra, and so all that was left was a simple pair of white panties. I was unable to keep myself from staring at her lovely breasts. Her areola's were small, her nipples a shade of coral. I watched my wife's chest rise and fall with her breath. Watched the way her chest flushed as if she had just exercised.

"You're starting at me, honey.." she giggled, "It's like you've never seen a woman's body before.."

I could feel the heat between my own legs, and the tingling of an erection forming underneath my clothes. But I was enjoying this moment far too much to pay any mind to that. It felt as if I were seeing Beatrice for the first time - really taking her in - and I wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of her body. This woman was exquisite. Every motion, every expression - every part of her a treasure. I needed to remember this. Nothing felt more important.

"You are gorgeous.." I whispered to her, and met her eyes. My heart hammered in my chest. I let my fingertips brush across her belly, just below the edge of her underwear. She let out a contented sigh. I caressed her cheek with my other hand. And finally I bent forward, slowly lowering myself until our faces were mere inches apart. Her grey eyes looked at me expectantly - as if she wanted to feel my lips against hers again. But I did not kiss her then. I just studied her expression.

"You.. You're never this slow." She blushed as she said it, which made me smile.

"Do you want me to go a bit faster, then..?" I asked, and ran my fingers through her hair once more. It was silky to the touch. "I can do that if you like.."

Beatrice swallowed hard before speaking. "No, I.. I just want you to do what feels right." Her voice was low and husky. I kept staring into her eyes, her face mere inches from mine. I could hear her breathing get shallower, as I slipped my hands into the waistband of her panties. I pushed them down slowly - deliberately - until I couldn't reach any further, and she lifted her legs up to assist me. They pooled around her knees for a moment, and then I gently pried them free from her legs, and tossed them onto the floor. We smiled at each other then. And I kissed her again.

I spent some time just exploring her body. Fingers tracing lines over exposed skin, kissing and embracing in various places, breathing heavily into each other's ears. We both quickly grew incredibly aroused. Beatrice seemed so relieved that this part was so familiar, that she was able to just relax and let herself enjoy it without question. She was not embarrassed when I reached down between her thighs and touched her gently there - let me feel the wetness that had gathered in her slit, nor did she mind when I started to caress her breasts and kiss her neck and face with increased passion. She seemed to delight in my affections, in how I explored every part of her body. She murmured soft little gasps of approval into my ear, or laughed out loud with sheer joy when I tickled her side. It felt like I knew her body intimately already, which on some level was true.

"Why don't you take off your shirt?" Beatrice said with a voice that fluttered with need. "I want to feel your body against mine, honey.." She raised her arms above her head in invitation. I sat back up and pulled the shirt over my head in one smooth motion, leaving my chest completely bare for her to gaze at. I could see her eyes roaming up and down my form - lingering on my collarbone for a moment. When her gaze returned to my face, there was such a look of satisfaction in her eyes. As if she could not believe how lucky she had been to have found me, all these years ago. Clearly, I still did it for her, just like she still did for me. And she looked happy then, as if she had made the right choice to be mine, despite all the hardship and agony I must be putting her through. A tinge of guilt cut me deep, despite my arousal. But this was not the time to dwell on that. For her sake, I needed to push it out of my mind.

I pulled my wife into a tight hug once more and rolled us both over. I lay flat on my back with Beatrice now atop me, our upper bodies pressed together snugly. She sat up so that she was straddling my lap and let her fingers run across my chest. It was incredibly sensual, the way she moved above me - grinding herself down against the bulge in my pants, as she swayed her body gently. She moved her face closer, and rubbed her nose against mine - to and fro - and some deep part of my lost memories seemed to recall this being something she often did. That really shook me.

"What's wrong?" she asked, cocking her head to the side slightly and grinning at me.

"Nothing.. Nothing is wrong.." I said slowly, watching as the grin grew wider and wider on her beautiful face.

"You can't fool me, honey.." she laughed. "What were you thinking just now? Because I know that look on your face - I can read you like an open book."

Beatrice continued to sway in my lap, running her fingers through my hair. She even giggled and pushed me back slightly and held me down on the mattress, like I was a small child trying to sneak out the door after curfew.

"That thing you did.. With the nose..?"

"The bunny kiss?" she giggled, looking a little embarrassed, as if she had forgotten about that entirely, or it was something she just did without thinking.

"Is that.. Is that something you do often?" I asked, examining her eyes.

She paused for a moment before speaking, her eyes searching mine. "I mean.. I suppose so? It's kind of a silly habit."

"It.. It felt so familiar. Like I could remember it. I think.. I love it when you do that."

She bent forward at the waist, her hair falling down to one side. The sight of her bosom peeking out from behind the curtain of her long wavy locks made me feel a bit light headed. I ran my fingers through her hair as she gazed down at me with those beautiful grey eyes, her head cocked to one side. She looked at me curiously. "Oh yeah?"