At the start of last year I was unfortunate enough to be admitted to hospital, and not only that, but to be admitted to a hospital miles from home. It's no exaggeration to say that I was really poorly; however it was easy to tell when I was feeling better in the second week of my stay.
Chris, my husband, was an absolute gem, and came to visit me as often as he could; it was fair to say though that there was something missing in a major way. By the start of my second week in hospital I was absolutely desperate for sex, gagging for it in fact, and the occasional crafty wank in the shower was doing very little alleviate the problem.
In the middle of my second week of admission was Valentine's Day. My feelings at being stuck in hospital and sex-deprived to boot on Valentines Day can be summed up in very few words, none of which are printable.
Chris made a concerted effort to leave work early that day so that he could not only make sure that he got to see me on Valentine's Day, but also be able to spend the whole of visiting hours with me instead of the normal 45 minutes that we were managing.
So, bang on the start of visiting time at 6.00pm, Chris arrived on the ward with an armful of roses and a smile on his face. Setting the roses down on the locker at the side of my bed, he grinned and held out his arms. I flew into his embrace, covering his face and mouth with kisses, and promptly burst into tears. Chris held me close, stroking my hair and crooning softly until my sobs subsided.
"Hey, now what was all that for?" he asked gently. "Hazel?" I sighed deeply and wiped away the tears which had run down my face and under my chin.
"I just wish there was some way I could tell you how much I miss you when you're not here. It's driving my crazy." I paused and giggled in spite of myself. "Not to mention making me as horny as hell!" Chris grinned.
"Trust me; you don't need to tell me." He squeezed me even harder, "Especially about the last part!" His grin had a distinctly lascivious quality to it, backed up by what was pressing firmly against my belly though the front of his trousers. Choosing to ignore it for the time being, I sat Chris down in the chair next to my bed, settled into his lap and snuggled up to him a sigh of pure happiness.
The next hour and a half passed in a happy haze of cuddles, kisses and quiet conversation, and all too quickly the bell rang to mark the end of visiting. I couldn't help it; the tears began to well up again all too early. I really wasn't coping with my incarceration in hospital as well as I would have had everybody think I was.
As I had taken to doing in order to stretch out the time I had with Chris as much as possible, I found and put on my slippers so that I could walk with him as far as the lifts.
Hand in hand we strolled out to the lobby, one of his fingers idly caressing the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrist, sending sparks of pleasure shooting to the deepest and most intimate parts of me with every touch. He pressed the button to call the lift, and we stood leaning against each other as we waited, each lost in our own thoughts.
