Sweet Memory

His prostate shot hot, white, sticky semen into the depth of her belly. He couldn't control it or hold back. This was where the beast surrendered. This was where he could have no reservations at all. He had to completely surrender to her body. The thought of his semen pooling deep inside her pussy turned him on even more. He felt the burning afterglow from her body. He soaked in the intense contact high, every part of her being so alive that sexual static was crackling underneath her skin, while her body only moved in soft, self-soothing ways absorbed by itself.

Their bodies became languid. The heavy sweat between them became more evident. Their minds were peaceful. George's penis gently shrunk, while it remained in the embrace of Liz' pussy. Their minds were flickering with warm random shapes. They rolled over to the side. George lovingly appraised Liz's face.

"You look so beautiful. There is a Finnish saying that women look the most beautiful after taking a sauna or having sex. It is so true."

Liz's face was radiant and glowing with happiness. They fell into after-love-making-slumber naked next to each other. Some time later, Liz kissed George on the lips before going to the bathroom. When George woke up in the morning, her body was still half draped over his. It was smooth, silky, and slender like an ancient Greek statue. He rolled her gently off him. Her arm flopped lifeless.

She felt a little cooler than usual. He checked her pulse at the throat. There was no longer a pulse, not even the faint cancer pulse. He sat up and rested his face on his knees. The bright and clear morning light made him look stark naked. By this time, she should have been dressed or, as the tastefully furnished room suggested, at least in satin pajamas. As such, the nakedness of her torso and breasts stood out even more. She was still just as beautiful and erotic. However, the arousing response wasn't there anymore, only cool admiration, as for a gorgeous statue.

His mind was blank. He had no recollection of how long he just sat there. The full midday light was outside, when he finally stood up. He dressed himself then cleaned her vagina with a wet towel before he dressed her. Then he called 911. Everything else happened with him as a bystander, and his mind had gone somewhere into outer space.

Following the Jewish rite, the funeral was arranged within 24 hours. They made him sit in a chair next to her coffin. Her coffin was half open for relatives and friends to visit one last time. People respectfully patted him on the shoulder and didn't make him talk as he sat sullen.

Aunts were amazed how perky, pink, and alive Liz's face looked. They exclaimed with hushed voices that she was glowing as beautifully as pregnant women do. The uncles looked at her face with deep reverence to her beauty. Their faces were more telling than the gossip of the women.

The first time that George had to make an action of his own was when he stood behind the rabbi's lectern. They wanted him to say the last words. George thought about Liz's face. He remembered the warm, intense passion of their love making. He realized how, even near death, Liz's spirit hadn't bowed to the disease, and she had lived her life to the fullest.

His mouth mumbled, "She was always the stronger of us." Then, he doubled over, sobbing helplessly on the lectern. His father stood up to help him. His father tried to speak the last words for him. However, his own memories of his lovely daughter-in-law and the joy of her spirit ushered tears to his eyes as well. All his father could do was to break out in shuddering sobs, pull his son into a strong hug, and hold dear to him. The father buried his face in his son's suit, and big tears rolled into the black fabric, which absorbed it into big blotches.

His mother, torn by her own emotional tears, rushed up the stairs to the lectern to join the group crying and find consolation in the physical closeness. Liz's best friend got up and joined the crying huddle. One friend after another got up. The inner circle intensely sniffed and sobbed. The middle circle cried sad tears. The outer circle hugged in solidarity and support. The whole synagogue was locked in one group hug like penguins pressed against each other in the Antarctic to brave ice storms.