Love and Sex Ch. 01

John immediately understood my wife's concern since he had just gone through our strict procedure. My big black friend looked around our tiny apartment for a hint of any space offering privacy and laughed. He was born and raised in Alabama. He put on all his Southern charm as he stood up.

"Well, Mam, I'd be a real cad if I didn't remove myself from your presence while you prepare for your shower. I need to visit the restroom anyway. Please let me know when you are ready. I promise on my word of honor. I won't peek."

My wife pointed to John's iPhone. "I hope that thing isn't making a movie."

John smiled. "There's a light that comes on when it's recording a video."

He leaned over and touched the screen. A light blinked on and then off when he poked it again. When he set the camera and tripod back down on the coffee table, it was pointing in the general direction of the door where my wife was standing.

John clutched the knot in his bath towel and took the few short steps required to take him into the bathroom. He flipped the light switch, which also turned on a noisy fan. He looked around in confusion.

He yelled so we could hear him over the noisy fan. "Where's the door?"

Cathy glared at me as I laughed. It had been my idea to ask the maintenance man to shave enough off the bottom to prevent the warped door from sticking. She blamed me for the missing door. Hey, I hadn't planned on a pandemic.

I yelled back, "Sorry, John. I removed the door to get it fixed. You'll just have to pretend there's one. You know. Like Les Nessman in "WKRP in Cincinnati."

John shook his head and smiled. "Well, it's not any worse than working in a war zone. Just ask your sweet wife not to look while I relieve myself."

My wife had started removing her clothes as soon as my friend had stepped into the bathroom. She tossed her cloth mask into the bag and followed it with the scrub cap that covered her wavy shoulder-length blond hair. She quickly removed the old scrubs she had changed into after her shift. When she added her bra to the bag, I was treated to the sight of her large gorgeous breasts jiggling unfettered. She stopped when she got down to her white bikini panties. I assumed it was because she was nervous about John, who she was watching intently for any sign he was peeking.

I followed her eyes to the bathroom and suppressed a laugh. John had pulled his big black penis from under the towel and was peeing profusely. I've never had a woman complain about my seven inches, but my best friend's big, black, uncircumcised cock was the largest I'd ever seen. His massive frame made it look smaller than it was. His monster was a good three inches longer than mine and considerably fatter. One night, after he'd had too much to drink, I'd heard him refer to it as his pussy destroyer.

When John finished, he gave his cock a couple of shakes. His equally massive balls jiggled before he lowered the towel over his member. He turned to the sink and washed his hands.

John yelled, "Cathy, are you ready for your shower?"

My wife coughed. "Almost. Give me a second, please."

She looked at me with wild eyes and whispered, "Oh my God, it's real. I thought you were just making up stories to get me excited."

After Cathy and I been married awhile, our sex life became routine. I'd started spicing it up with some stories about John. My old roommate didn't have a modest bone in his body. I'd often watched him fucking some blond bimbo in his bedroom. If the girl couldn't see me, I'd stay and watch him driving that big black cock deep into the girl's widely stretched pussy. Of course, I never admitted my voyeurism to my wife, but my tales were all based upon reality.

I kept having to increase the lurid details to hold my wife's interest. Eventually, I began pretending that I was John Williams, and my only goal in life was to seduce her. I was familiar with my roommate's seduction techniques. Cathy enjoyed listening to my compliments about her sexy ass and strawberry nipples while I stroked her back. She got aroused when I imitated a Southern accent and tried coaxing her into touching my big black cock. I loved feeling her intense response when I drove my throbbing cock into her sopping wet pussy.

I said, "Everything I told you about John was true. If anything, the stories I told you were very mild."

My wife swallowed hard. She stared at the floor as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties and pushed them down her long, athletic legs. She bent over and stepped out of her last piece of clothing. She added them to the bag and stood up. I had a good look at her glistening pussy before she covered her breasts and sex with her hands and arms. I loved the tiny triangle of curly blond pubic hair she had left after shaving off the rest of her bush. It was evident from the whispy stubble covering her pussy that she hadn't shaved in several days. The flaxen triangle pointing at her protruding clit was proof she was a natural blond. My cock responded to her obvious arousal.

I looked at John and saw his face in the mirror above the sink. His eyes were locked on my wife's naked body. His smile told me he approved of my choice in women. I felt strangely aroused, watching a cocksman like John lusting after my innocent wife. I didn't worry about him for an instant. He had proved more than once that I could trust him around my girlfriends.

I'd been thrilled a month ago when my wife shaved off most of her pubic hair before joining me in bed. She said all the nurses were doing it to make it easier to wash up after a long shift on the coronavirus ward. I'd been a lot less excited about her short-cropped haircut. I'd preferred it when her wavy locks fell to the middle of her back. Now that I thought about it, that night was the last time we'd had the time and energy to make love. This damn pandemic needed to end soon.

My wife's body was trembling. I knew she wasn't cold. Our apartment was above the building's boiler room. In the middle of winter, with the radiator shut off, the temperature in our apartment never dropped below 78 degrees. We had only one window overlooking the street, and it was painted shut. All the window let in was traffic noise and the light from a bright marquee across the street. At least with the city under quarantine, it was quiet outside. However, the marquee carried a message thanking essential workers and stayed on all night.

No, my wife was trembling because she was stark naked in the same room as the virile black man who had been the focus of her dreams for the last year. We'd even acted out her rape fantasy. Maybe in her mind, the only thing stopping him from seizing her fertile young body and using her as he liked was my presence.

My wife's voice broke as she squeaked, "I'm ready for my shower."

I yelled, "John, could you turn on the shower? Set it to hot and then sit down on the couch. I'm going to start dinner."

"Seriously, Paul, there's no need to waste your food supplies on me. I can pick up some take out."

John kept his eyes down as he walked to the couch. I was amused to see the enormous tent in the towel that was his only covering. As my wife sidled by the coffee table, John grabbed his iPhone and tapped on the screen.

I was happy when Cathy responded to my friend turning down my invitation to dinner. "Nonsense, John. You're our guest. Who knows when we'll see you again. It won't be a feast, but it'll save you from hunting down dinner. Most restaurants are closed."

Cathy paid the price for talking. My friend smiled at her generous offer and reflexively looked up at her. John's eyes followed her jiggling ass into the shower as she squealed and ran into the bathroom. I have to admit I laughed. I'm pretty sure John was only the second man to see my wife's gorgeous bubble butt.

I turned to prepare dinner with a grin on my face. Cathy was right when she said it wouldn't be a feast. We were lucky to have enough food to offer my big friend. Fortunately, my wife had recently traded with another nurse for a case of instant ramen noodles. I opened four cartons, microwaved some water, and added it to the noodles. I'd learned to modify the packaged ramen from a Korean medical student. I cracked an egg into each container, added a bit of butter, and topped it with a slice of cheddar cheese. The hardest part was slicing up a couple of green onions while the noodles and eggs cooked. I had dinner on the coffee table by the time my wife finished her quick but thorough shower.

Cathy smiled at me nervously as she stepped out of the shower and dried herself with an old threadbare bath towel. I realized my friend was wearing our only large bath towel. A couple of new bath sets were just one of many things on our list when we bought our dream home in Minnesota.

John was a gentleman and focused on his iPhone, while Cathy struggled to cover herself with a small ragged bath towel that had seen better days. She managed to knot the top corners just above the swell of her breasts. The skimpy towel left a small gap of exposed pink flesh down the right side of her body. She checked herself in the mirror and blushed at the sight of her ass cheeks peeking out below the bottom of the towel. She adjusted the rag to cover the bottom of her gorgeous butt, which exposed so much soft breast flesh she was close to displaying her dark pink areoles. Cathy snuck into the room and headed for the chest of drawers containing her underwear.

I said, "Dinners getting cold."

John's deep laugh filled the room.

"Cathy, I hope you're not going to get formal on me. It wouldn't be fair since I'm stuck wearing a towel while my clothes dry. If anything, Paul is overdressed."

My wife looked at John's muscular, dark mahogany-colored and barely-covered body and blushed.

"You can't expect me to eat dinner wearing nothing more than this old rag."

I'm not sure what came over me. Maybe it was all the beers on top of weeks of twenty-hour shifts watching patients die despite our best efforts to fight a disease for which we had no effective medications. Maybe it was a desire to flaunt my beautiful, unobtainable wife in front of my former roommate after having watched him parade one gorgeous conquest after another before me in college.

I managed to keep a straight face as I said, "A hostess should never make their guests uncomfortable. Besides, it wouldn't be polite for us to start eating before you join us. Come on. Dinner's getting cold, and there's nothing worse than cold, greasy noodles."

"Paul, I'm barely covered."

It was my turn to laugh. "Don't be so modest. John already saw your naked butt when you ran into the bathroom."

Cathy glared at me for a moment.

"Paul, you are such a jerk."

Cathy flounced her cute ass down in the middle of the couch a bit too hard and let out a squeal as the vital knot fell apart. She barely managed to catch the towel before exposing anything important as far as I could see from the kitchen. However, the gap in her towel was on John's side, and his grin hinted that he'd seen more, perhaps a lot more than I had. While she fiddled with the knot, John filled a large glass with white wine for her. We didn't own any real wine glasses, so I'd set her place with a water glass. My wife is a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, and the quantity in her drink was twice her regular portion for dinner at a restaurant. I grabbed my fourth beer and sat beside her. She picked up her glass and gulped her wine.

Her long bare legs were raised on the balls of her feet and nervously bouncing up and down. From where I sat, I could see her long pale thighs were exposed almost up to her crotch. The gap in the side of her covering left her right hip bared to John's hungry gaze. When her naked thigh accidentally brushed my friend's equally bare leg, she recoiled like she'd touched a live wire. She pressed her body against mine. I could feel her heart beating wildly. I hoped she could relax enough to eat.

John picked up his iPhone and said, "Cathy, your husband was extremely accommodating. He's answered all my questions about his experiences as a fledgling doctor at the hospital. It would help my story if I could get a nurse's viewpoint on the coronavirus crisis. Could I interview you while we eat?"

My starving wife had just stuffed a large bite of noodles in her mouth. She looked at me as she slowly chewed. Cathy is a rather private person, and I felt the need to give my encouragement.

"Sweetheart, the Times has been very sympathetic to health care workers. The President has said we are at war with an invisible enemy. I think coverage from a real war correspondent would show the public what it's like fighting in the trenches. Maybe, we could get people who refuse to practice social distancing to understand the importance of following what historically has been one of the best approaches to pandemics. Without medications or a vaccine, it's our only hope. We need all the publicity we can get."

My wife and I had often talked about the problem caused by people who didn't take the horrific disease seriously. Unfortunately, 80 to 90 percent of Covid-19 cases are mild or asymptotic. For most of the general public, if they knew someone who came down with the disease, it was likely it would be someone with a mild case. It was easy to understand why people would conclude that the plague wasn't any worse than the common cold. The reports of crowded beaches, packed churches, and big drinking parties carried on the nightly news caused both of us heartburn. People with mild cases going to public places were the cause of most of the infections. Health care workers saw the seriously ill patients who labored painfully to take a breath. It was demoralizing to watch helplessly as a patient's organs failed.

I knew my wife wanted to get the story out. Cathy washed down a bite of ramen with another big gulp of wine.

"Ok. What do I have to do?"

John set his iPhone down on the back of the coffee table.

"Just relax and answer my questions as best you can. Let's start with some background. Your accent suggests you came from the upper mid-west. Am I right?"

Cathy said, "Bemidji, Minnesota is about as upper as it gets. Another fifty miles north and you're in Canada. The town is famous as the birthplace of Paul Bunyan. There's a big world-famous statue of him in the middle of town. It's also near the headwaters of the Mississippi. Bemidji is a beautiful place with forests and lakes."

"You look fit. Were you an athlete?"

"I played lacrosse and basketball in high school."

John smiled. "Isn't lacrosse the badass Indian game where everyone runs around smacking their opponents with a stick? How did you come to play such a rough sport?"

John's big smile was infectious. I saw Cathy smile at my friend for the first time. I had to admire John's interview technique. He gave her time to think about her answers while she slowly finished her meal. I hoped my big ex-roommate wasn't too hungry after he wolfed down two cartons of noodles.

My badass wife laughed. "Lacrosse is very physical, but we wear helmets, and you get a penalty for hitting someone. There are several reservations outside Bemidji, so the game is popular in high school. I'm a quarter Anishinaabe on my mother's side, so I grew up playing the game with my full-blood cousins."

"I'm sorry. I didn't get that. You're a quarter what?"

"Anishinaabe is the name the people prefer. You may be more familiar with the names Ojibwe or Chippewa."

"Where did your other ancestors come from?"

"My Dad's Swedish. I got my blond hair from him. My Mom's not sure about her other half but suspects they were English and Scottish. My brown eyes and high cheekbones are pure Ojibwe."

"How did you end up in New York City?"

"I have a widowed aunt in Brooklyn. Her husband was a Mohawk Indian ironworker, who died in a construction accident. The tuition for state residents at the State University of New York Downstate Health Sciences University is considerably lower than any nursing school in Minnesota. I used my aunt's address to apply. I'm now working at the University Hospital of Brooklyn, so you can be sure that New York will get their money back. The best part is that after three years of working there, I'll get my student loans forgiven."

"How did you and Paul meet?"

Cathy took a deep breath. She reached up and touched her blond hair.

"It was early in my last year of nursing school, and I had recently broken up with a guy who I thought was the one. My short, oversexed roommate, Ashley, was tired of my self-pity. She pressured me into going to a party. She said there was a first-year medical school student she wanted me to meet. My extroverted roommate described him as the sweet, studious type. I needed a break from my studies, so I agreed. I warned her not to expect too much because I wasn't ready to date again.

"I wasn't surprised when as soon as we arrived at the party, she threw her arms around the neck of a tall, dark-haired guy. She stood on her tiptoes and pulled his lips down to hers for a long passionate kiss. I was embarrassed as I watched her grind her tiny, hot body against his. I wondered if he was a recent conquest or her target for tonight.

"When she broke her embrace, he laughed. It was a nice, deep, easy laugh. He smiled. 'Ashley, nice to see you too. Are you trying to make Patrick jealous?'

"Ashley laughed, 'Do you think it worked?'

"The dark-haired guy wiped his steamy glasses on his polo shirt and said, 'He's headed this way. Judging by the look on his face, he's going to beat the snot out of me.'

"It was Ashley's turn to laugh. 'Then I think you better take my roommate out on the dance floor while I play with Patrick's head some more.'

"So that was how we met. We dated for a couple of weeks before I kissed the lips that my roommate had kissed so hard. I was happy when Ashley confided she'd never managed to get Paul in bed. We took our time, letting our relationship deepen. He asked me to marry him just before I graduated."

Cathy had relaxed a lot, telling one of her favorite stories. John noticed her glass was empty and poured her some more wine.

John said, "I'm sorry I missed your wedding. I was in West Africa, covering the Ebola epidemic."

I said, "Your coverage of the crisis was incredible. No one else captured the heartbreaking impact on Africans the way you did."

John ignored my comment.

"Cathy, tell me about your wedding."

My wife smiled at her happy memories. I heard her sigh, and she relaxed a little more.

"It was everything I ever dreamed about for my wedding day. We held it in my home town of Bemidji because I have a lot more relatives than Paul. His parents and his sister's family flew out for the weekend. Our parish priest performed the wedding service at St. Agnes. My mother is half Ojibwe, so we went out to the Red Lake Indian Reservation for a second ceremony conducted by my great uncle, Walter High Hawk. He is an old midi. You can think of him as a healer or by the white man's word, 'medicine man.' We celebrated on the shore of Lower Red Lake surrounded by dense forest. There was a gorgeous sunset, and a flock of Canadian geese filled the sky. Walter said that was a good omen, and we would have many healthy children. Afterward, the party went on all night."

I had to chime in with my memories.

"It was a wild party. The parts I remember best are Cathy's four brothers warning me one after the other what they would do to me if I ever made her cry a single tear. Your younger brother was particularly gruesome. He said he would hang me from a tree by my guts while I was still suffering from the tortures his older brothers had inflicted.

"When your great uncle got me alone to give me a warning, I figured he was going to threaten to take me down from the tree, pour honey on my battered body and stake me to an anthill. Instead, he said he'd been having visions of an invisible, unfeeling, and mindless creature that would attack every thinking being on the planet. Cathy and I would be among the warriors fighting the beast. When the battle was at its peak, and everything appeared helpless, we would encounter an enormous dark being that would unknowingly threaten to consume our souls. The beast wasn't evil. It was just the beast's nature. He told me I had to be like the aspen tree. He told me to cling to the bedrock below with my roots and bend in the wind above, or the dark beast would destroy us.