My Sentinel

We sat like this for some moments, almost motionless until I gently pushed him onto his back once more and began to slowly ride him. I felt his body jerk beneath me as I slowly rotated my hips, making the most of his full length, caressing him with my tight wet little pussy.

"Oh Anna," he moaned as I began to slowly move up and down.

"I think I love you a little Matthew," I whispered as my pleasure began to build. "I don't know where you came from, but you are such a special man."

"I need you Anna," he uttered breathlessly as I picked-up speed.

"Stay with me Matthew," I gasped as my climax began to build.

"I'll try," he muttered as I sat down on him one last time really hard.

We both uttered stifled screams as we came. I collapsed onto his bare chest, pussy still throbbing and convulsing like it never had done before with anyone else. He wrapped his arms around me and we lay there for some time. I could feel his cum beginning to leak out of me, but just wanted to stay close to him during this special time.

Eventually, I rose, went to the bathroom and returned to find him just where I left him. I knelt to kiss him, helped him to his feet, undressed him, and led him to my bed where we lay snuggled together until sleep took us both.

I must have woken in the early hours of the morning. The bed was empty. I turned over and saw that Matthew was sitting fully clothed on the side of the bed watching me sleep.

"Anna, I have to go now," he whispered.

"Please come back again," I pleaded.

"I will try my best," he replied, leaning to kiss me with icy cold lips.

I tried to fight the urge to sleep, but found myself drifting once more. I think I heard his lovely voice one more time before sleep robbed me of my senses.

"I love you Anna. I managed to save you. For you it may be possible."

I was awoken once more some hours later by hammering on my door. This time it was different.

"POLICE! OPEN UP!"

I quickly made myself decent and opened the door.

"Sorry to trouble you Miss, but we are interviewing everyone in the area," a kind looking Policewoman told me.

"Please come in," I replied.

We sat down in my living area and I was asked about anything I had witnessed the night before. I admitted to hearing an explosion and to staying indoors out of fear.

"I am afraid a man was murdered last night," the Policewoman explained.

"Oh, God I have only just moved here," I replied. "I thought this was a safe area in which to live."

"This is the first time anything like this has happened here for a long time," she explained. "It was to do with drugs and we have made an arrest, so you should feel safe. The perpetrator is off the streets."

"Thank goodness," I replied with feeling.

We chatted for a little longer and she left, satisfied that I had not seen anything. I did for a moment wonder how Matthew had managed to sneak out in the early hours amongst the chaos without being seen. I surmised that it probably was indeed the chaos that allowed him to go unnoticed.

I sank into my chair and sobbed a little. I just felt overwhelmed. If Matthew had not arrived when he did, I would have gone out there. The screams would have woken me and I would have wanted to help. I could have been shot. Where was Matthew anyway? Had I dreamt the whole thing? I decided I had not. He had been here for sure. I had a bath and stayed in for the rest of the day.

I decided to venture out the following day. There were television cameras outside my building and crowds of people, but I kept my head down and headed to the park for some solitude. I enjoyed my walk, but there was no sign of Matthew. I decided not to go immediately home, and had a meal at a little cafe, plus telephoned my parents to tell them that I was okay. They were relieved.

Two more days went by. On Wednesday I decided to knock on Matthew's door. I just needed to see him. It took the whole of the morning to build the courage to do this, but I after considering all scenarios, the worst that could happen would be that he was not there or did not want to talk to me.

I set out with purpose. There were less press people outside now, and things were beginning to calm down. I walked first to the park to get my bearings, then turned and followed the route that Matthew had taken from the park to his home. I spotted a couple of familiar landmarks on the way, one being an ornate Victorian Post box, the other being a privet shrub cut into the shape of a peacock.

As I turned the corner into Matthew's street, I paused. The first couple of terraces looked unkempt. I was sure that the whole row of houses had been pretty and neat. I paused, then walked slowly further down the street. As I did so, I began to feel sick. The next few houses in the row were boarded-up. This surely couldn't be right. I stopped to read a sign that clearly stated that the houses were for demolition to make way for a new road system. I made myself walk a little further, telling myself that I must have made a mistake.

I knew I had not made a mistake when I halted in front of a familiar-looking house. The windows were boarded up and the front garden was overgrown, but in amongst the tall weeds were rose bushes. I stood and stared in disbelief. As I studied my surroundings, I spotted something which made my heart jolt for a moment. In amongst the smaller weeds that jutted through cracks in the path, there was a familiar-looking bright red toggle! I suddenly had to lean on the garden wall, and ejected my lunch tidily to join the weeds. I looked at the house once more as I stood up and steadied myself. This was the same house. I forced the gate to open though it was rusty, bent to pick-up the toggle which definitely matched the others on my coat, and scuttled back onto the pavement once more. How could it be boarded up? I had been in there only a few days ago? Had I imagined the whole thing? Was I in fact mad?

I sat on the garden wall shaking from head to toe. I am not sure how much time passed, but I eventually made my way home and sat staring into space for another unspecified amount of time feeling frightened and doubting my own sanity. As afternoon turned to evening, I simply skipped dinner, drank three glasses of wine, and went to bed to escape from my torment.

As I drifted into a slightly drunken sleep, I felt arms go around me. I sighed with pleasure, and sank deeper into sleep. I had a very vivid dream I think. I was lying in bed with Matthew. It felt so real. We were facing each other. He spoke to me softly.

"Anna, my darling. I miss you."

"I miss you too," I replied with feeling. "I think I am going mad. Your house is all boarded-up. Did I imagine you?"

"No you didn't imagine me. My house boarded-up? Oh dear," he whispered. "I loved that house."

"I don't know what to think," I told him. "It is lovely to see you though."

We kissed and held each other, stroked each other, then just lay in a tight embrace.

"Anna, I want to come back," he implored. "I was able to save you. I knew I had to do this to make up for failing before. I so badly want to come back, but do not know how."

"Please come back Matthew," I pleaded as his grip on me began to diminish. "I love you."

"I love you too Anna," I heard him say, but from distance. He had gone again.

I woke with a slight hangover. My own fault. The world felt improved after three cups of tea and two Paracetamol tablets. I remembered my dream and felt comforted by it, but still confused and a little frightened. I repeated his name to myself. Matthew Edgware....

In a fit of desperation, I switched-on my laptop and typed his name into the Google search engine. Nothing. I tried again, but this time added the name of the town in which I was now living. The screen came to life with a number of hits. I clicked on the first link, watched the page load-up and began to read. By the time I had finished, my tea had gone cold and I was motionless. I will paste the entry below:

"12/12/2006. Matthew Edgware a 34 year old freelance writer remains critical in Hospital after the events of 07/12/06. It is believed that he intervened in a scuffle between a Miss Georgina Howells, believed to be his girlfriend, and an unknown man. As previously reported, Miss Howells died at the scene from a gunshot wound. Mr Edgware also suffered a gunshot wound, and was immediately taken to Hospital where he underwent emergency cranial surgery, but has not yet regained consciousness. Police wish for anyone who may have been witness to this event to telephone them on their free phone number......."

There was more, plus a beautiful picture of Matthew looking young and carefree. I wanted to know what had happened to him. I feverishly typed in further searches which resulted in me reading pretty much the same thing several times over until I came to a small piece written about a year later. It was another plea from the Police for any information on events that night. It said Matthew was in a coma a year later and had been transferred into a private nursing home. I searched and searched the web, but this was all I could find. He might be alive then still. Please let him be alive.

I had another dream that night. Matthew was with me once more....

"Matthew?" I asked.

"Here baby," was the response.

He enveloped my small body with his larger frame from behind, putting a strong arm around my midriff and pulling me close. I sighed with delight and comfort as his hand gently stroked my stomach in circles. Soft, soft stroking. He kissed and nuzzled the back of my neck tenderly, making my whole body tingle.

"I love you Matthew," I whispered

"I know you do," he replied. "Just be quiet and relax."

I tried to turn to look at him, but he just held me more firmly on my side. I wanted him to touch me more. I wanted to kiss him all over, to adore his naked body, but he continued to hold me. There was no option other than to relax as he asked, and remain where I was. He must have felt me give-up and my muscles go soft. We lay like that for a few minutes, and I felt my eyelids begin to close once more. I felt safe and cocooned with this beautiful man.

His hand began to slowly move down my stomach, stroking once more. I caught my breath as his fingers just brushed my small strip of hair. He began to lightly stroke me there. I sighed with pleasure, pressed my bare bum against him, hoping to feel his manhood, wanting him to perhaps enter me from behind. I knew I was very, very wet. My body responds very quickly when turned on. I get very slippery. I felt him pull away from me a little, but the stroking continued.

"Relax," he said. "I want you to sleep well."

I did as I was told, and shut my eyes once more. I willed his hand to go lower as by this time I knew it would take very little to make me cum. I tried to open my legs to give him a hint, but was being held too tightly. Eventually, his hold relaxed a little and I was able to roll partially onto my back and open my legs.

"Please Matthew, please touch me where it matters," I pleaded.

He responded by kissing me, putting his tongue in my mouth, touching my tongue......His hand moved lower, fingers not yet touching me where I needed to be touched, but stroking my soft underneath parts. I sighed again, continued to kiss him, wanted him so badly now....

At last he brushed my wet slippery clit. All the air seemed to disappear from my lungs in one gasp. He lazily stroked, almost not touching at all. I felt my pussy begin to swell, to prepare. My clit swollen also, desperate. I love being given a soft orgasm in this way - almost no effort required - so easy, so pure. I felt that familiar sweet feeling that I cannot easily describe that is so different from the feeling of building towards climax when being entered. I am lucky to be able to have both.

He continued to stroke, the sweet feeling continued to build until it reached an almost unbearable peak. I let it build until it almost hurt, let myself go, cried out, and again as the waves hit my whole body. He held me as I came, kissed me. I could almost feel his smile of satisfaction.

"Sleep," he whispered. "I will be here."

He held me once more. I felt my eyelids close. I breathed in the smell of him, relaxed once more in his strong arms. Began to drift....

Of course when I awoke in the morning I was predictably alone once more. As I rolled out of bed, I noticed that there was a dent in the second pillow on my bed, but told myself that I must have shifted sides during the night.

As I cleaned my teeth, I allowed myself to think things through a little. Could Matthew still be in a coma? Was he dead? How on earth had I been able to see him, touch him, speak to him? How had he known that he needed to find me? Had he some psychic power that he was using as a result of damage to his brain? I concluded that perhaps I was indeed mad, had been hallucinating and that the 'cheese had finally slipped-off my cracker.'

As I made my breakfast, I pulled myself together. I told myself that I was a sensible professional woman with no history of mental illness. I had seen and felt him. I resigned myself to the fact that what I was experiencing could maybe be real, however unbelievable. Matthew had saved me. He had said he wanted to come back, but did not know how. Perhaps I needed to save him.

I spent the morning with the Yellow Pages telephoning every Nursing Home in the area. Most catered for elderly people. Some did not have time to answer my questions, most would not give away any confidential information, and my heart sank as my fruitless quest continued. I eventually talked to a helpful sounding Nursing Home manager who was able to give me a couple of telephone numbers of places who looked after people of all ages to try. I held my breath and dialled the first...

A male voice answered the telephone. I politely told him who I was looking for, explaining that I was an old friend. There was a brief pause on the line, and then the same understandable explanation about confidentiality. I began to cry. I would never find Matthew.

"I'm sorry, I told the man on the phone between sobs. I just don't know what to do. I so badly need to find him and see him."

There was another pause.

"There is nothing to see," he replied. "Matthew just sleeps."

"He is with you?" I blurted!

"I haven't told you anything," the man replied.

"May I please visit?" I asked desperately.

"If you wish, but we have not had this conversation," the man answered.

I put the phone down after having written down the address of the home, and punched the address into Google maps. It was a short drive away. Matthew was alive then, but had never awoken since his accident. I found I didn't care. I just wanted to see him, so put on a coat and got in my car before I could even give the matter any further thought.

I began to feel anxious as I neared my destination, and parked my car in a car park outside a large old building which read 'Charlton Lodge'. I made myself walk to the main doors with purpose as though visiting a man I felt I knew so well but had never actually met was a normal routine thing. At the reception desk, I cheerily stated who I wanted to see and signed in, ignoring the stares from the lady behind the counter.

"Do you know where you are going?" she asked.

"No," I confessed.

"I will take you," she replied.

When I looked up at her, she was smiling and could obviously sense my unease.

"You haven't seen him for a while then?" she announced in a matter of fact tone.

I did not feel the need to answer, but followed her up a staircase and along a corridor until we stopped outside a door simply marked 'Matthew'.

"I'll leave you here," she smiled. "He does not move or speak."

My hands shook as I pushed open the bedroom door. I entered and quickly shut it behind me. I took a deep breath and realised how silent it was in there. The only noise was the soft whooshing of air being pumped into a pressure mattress. There was a figure in the bed. I made my feet move me closer and closer until I was standing close to him.

He was lying on his back, eyes firmly shut. His face was pale and gaunt. One arm protruded from the bedclothes. It was stick-thin. I recognised him though. Even in this horrible state, he was my Matthew. He needed a shave and a haircut, and I mentally berated the Nursing staff for not having done this, but at the same time could see that he was clean and comfortable.

"Matthew," I said out loud as I took his available hand. "Matthew, it is Analise...well Anna to you."

I squeezed his hand, but it remained limp and lifeless. I became aware that I was crying. It was devastating to see such a beautiful man reduced to this. The bedroom door opened a little for a second and a head peered in, but quickly disappeared again. I suppose the staff were checking me out.

I am not sure how long I remained standing at Matthew's bedside just holding his hand and watching him sleep, but when I began to feel my hand go numb, I decided I had been there long enough. I looked at Matthew once more and knew he was a long way away. All the same, I leaned over the bed and planted a long soft kiss on his forehead and then his motionless lips.

"Thank you for saving me," I whispered. "I want to save you right back, but do not know how."

There was no response. I stood upright once more, looked at Matthew for a few more moments, and then exited the room. I quickly signed out, avoiding conversation with anyone, walked briskly to my car and drove home.

I am not sure whether or not this was a good thing, but I really did not have time to sit, think and reflect on the day's events once I was home. I had three telephone calls in a row from both family and friends from my old town wanting to know how I was getting on. It was actually a pleasant distraction to 'touch base' with my old world, and by the time I had finished talking it was mid-evening. I made some scrambled eggs, wrote a little in my diary and went to bed.

In my sleep, arms went round me once more, and a now familiar voice spoke softly into my ear.

"Anna, were you near me today? I feel that you were, but I don't know where I am."

"Yes, I saw you for real today, Matthew, and held your hand, kissed you gently."

"Where am I, Anna?" he questioned. "I know Georgina died a long time ago, but I don't think I died."

"You are alive, Matthew," I answered.

There was a pause as I wondered how much to tell him.

"You are sleeping. You never woke after being shot."

"I can't be asleep!" he retorted. "I can often see the world, I walk, I breathe in the air, and I met you in the park. I took you to my house!"

"Yes, part of you is clearly awake my darling, but your body lies in a Nursing home. I wish I could wake you."

"So I am just a body in a bed? How do I look?" he whispered sounding a little panicked now.

"You look like my Matthew, but painfully thin," I answered tactfully.

I felt his arms pull away from me suddenly.

"I don't want you to see me like this Anna. This is not the way I should be. A wasted, shrunken body in a bed? Bloody hell! I don't know what to think. I don't know how to deal with this. It is too much!"

There was another pause, and then Matthew spoke once more, but sounded at a distance from me.

"Do not visit me again Anna. I will know if you do. I do not want your pity. Goodbye."

And he was gone.

I woke in the morning, remembered and cried. Silly proud man. I realised after the events of the past week or so that he would indeed know if I had visited him again. The thought of never seeing him again hurt so badly. I wept on and off throughout the morning, but decided that for the moment I would respect Matthew's wishes and stay away.

*******

I started my new job about a week later, and threw myself into my work. I thought about Matthew every day, but did not visit him in the Nursing home. He did not come to me in my dreams again, and so I slept alone.