Merry Christmas everyone - this is my present to you (although it will likely arrive a bit late). I suspect you'll either love it or want to come after me with pitchforks and torches...lol. It is a bit different. I really look forward to your feedback on this one.
All characters are fictional, existing only within the confines of this story and my mind. Enjoy!
In the end, one realizes there is still so much left to do and to say and even as weary as I am, my heart failing in ever increasing increments, I feel regret. My daughter leans over me as beautiful as ever at age fifty-five β our son and daughter flanking her on each side, each trying to hold back their emotions and put a brave face on things. I reach out and touch my daughter's hand, feeling her fingers close around my shaky digits, squeezing hard as if to will her own life force into my frail and fading body.
"Sally, it's alright," I say in a raspy voice, my throat dry from the constant flow of oxygen. "Don't mourn, my darling. We've β I've had a good life." I feel her wedding ring rub against mine β we've worn them now for twenty years, ever since our mother passed away and she took Mom's place in my bed.
"I love you, Daddy," my girl replies. "I don't want you to go!" She blinks back tears and glances at our son and daughter, barely out of their teens. "None of us want to lose you."
"I love you too, Sally. I love you all." I look into each of our children's eyes β at Megan's sweet face, her grandmother's eyes staring back at me, glowing with the special love that a woman has for her first lover. Images of our first night together pass through my mind β her long lithe body wrapped around mine as my blood flecked erection brings her to her first cock induced orgasm.
I look at Jack's face, his love evident in that face that looks so much like a younger version of myself β love and understanding of his place now β his destiny to take my place in his mother's bed, husband and lover to Sally and to his sister. Again, I am almost swept away with the memories of my daughter and our son coming together as lovers for the first time, Sally's rapturous expression as with legs spread wide, she accepted her son's magnificent cock into her pussy for the first time.
I feel an old and familiar sensation and I almost laugh. Imagine at age eighty with a failing heart, getting a woody on one's death bed. Mom would find this hilarious. I can almost hear her say, "That's my John! That's my horny loving son!"
Images of my mother come to mind β doing nothing to abate the sudden burgeoning erection between my legs. My mother β my greatest love, gone now for a score of years and even as her memories press down on me β of Mom riding my cock, her great and heavy breasts bouncing as we fuck with complete abandon, exciting me, so does the heaviness of breathing. The monitors begin to make warning noises β sounds I am so tired of hearing and I know that I'm done.
"Please, Daddy, don't leave me," Sally begs, her hand tightening around mine. It should be painful, but sensation is fading.
I try and squeeze back, whispering, "Its time, my love β I'm tired and I miss our mother. It's time for me to go to her." Each word is harder to speak than the word before it.
Sally's tears fall on my face as she leans down and kisses me, her lips and tongue brushing my dry and chapped lips. "I love you so much, Daddy," I hear her say as things begin to rapidly fade around me. "Go to her, Daddy. Give Mom our love. I love you so much!" It is the last thing I hear and then I feel my daughter's lips brushing mine one last time as...
I am ELSEWHERE. Streams of light of every color in the spectrum and colors unimagined pass through me or I pass through them. I am BODYLESS β without form and substance. I am in MOTION and I am at REST. I am EVERYTHING and NOTHING. I am nothing but the summary of a lifetime of MEMORY.
I am SOMEWHERE! It is beautiful, a cathedral of light, reinforced by unearthly music so lovely I want to weep. From wisps of illuminated ether emerges a figure, almost too great to behold, his form too perfect to be truly human, great feathered wings spreading wide from his back. Eyes blaze with the same brilliant fire that wreathes the great sword in his hand.
Despite my lack of form, he or it looks deep into my being and intones, "John Heller, you stand before your Lord God. I am the archangel Michael. Prepare to be judged."
From nowhere and everywhere, a light that is truly too beautiful to be truly beheld manifests and I quail before its purity that assaults all my senses. "OPEN YOUR HEART, MY CHILD, SHOW ME WHAT YOU ARE!"
I feel transparent and all that I am β all that I have been, is revealed. "The heart of John Heller β what do you find, Almighty God?" intones the angel, Michael.
"I FIND LOVE IN THIS CHILD," replies the VOICE that would make the finest singer in the world weep with envy.
"And do you find hate, Lord God?"
"NAY! HIS HEART IS PURE β LOVE BURNS AWAY ALL BASE EMOTION!"
"What be the judgment of the Almighty upon John Heller?" asks the Angel Michael, raising his flaming sword in readiness.