Feeling Good - The Story of Sam & Henry

Chapter 22 - Pearl Jam Tour 2006

I literally raced through the grocery store like I was on one of those game shows where you got everything for free, but you only had 5 minutes to get it. As I was standing in line at the checkout, I mentally went through the checklist I had made in my head earlier that morning: Gatorade, rehydration packets, bananas, ramen... was I forgetting something? I had also picked up some beer for me, apple sauce and spaghetti. I was almost out of paper towels, so I had picked up some of those too. On my way to get the paper towels I had passed by the condom aisle, reflexively I went to grab some because I was almost out, but then I remember the text exchange that we had shared last week and decided that I didn't need any.

The likelihood of sex tonight was nil, she was clearly dehydrated and I'm sure any kind of jostling would just cause her to puke again, or worse, but the idea of unprotected sex with her was thrilling. It had been a long time since I hadn't used a condom, probably since my last girlfriend in Medical School. Just thinking about the prospect of doing it was Sam was making my resting ¼ chub move to a ½ chub, so I pushed the cart away from the condom aisle, steering it toward the safety of household paper products.

The cashier who was ringing me up seemed to be new because she was having to look up each produce item one at a time and then needed a manager to come over and check my ID for the beer. But I smiled. Waiting wasn't really something that bothered me, because waiting meant that there was action about to happen, it just wasn't happening yet. No, what killed me, was doing nothing, and knowing that in ten minutes, ten days or ten years you were still going to be doing nothing. So I smiled kindly and let her take her time, even though every moment here was a moment away from Sam.

On my way to the grocery store I had called ahead to a Thai place in my neighborhood so that I could pick up some food for me and some pho for Sam. After the lady at the checkout had finished ringing me up, I hoped back in my car, drove to the Thai place to pick up dinner and then drove back to my place in Sugar House.

When I opened the door, Sam, who had been sitting on the couch, went to stand up to greet me, but I could tell that she had stood too quickly because midway through her rise she sat down again. I dropped all the bags I was carrying on the table in the dining room and went over to her on the couch in the living room.

She looked pale, and cool and a little clammy. I picked up her fingers and pressed deeply into her nails counting the seconds until the blood rushed back into her nailbed ...1...2...3...4...5. Yup, she was super dehydrated.

"Got a little dizzy there," she said, a little color returning to her beautiful lips. "Hey Blue," she said, and she pulled me down to her so that I could kiss her.

Her lips were dry, as was her tongue and oral mucosa, but the kiss she gave me was like nothing I'd ever felt before. She wrapped her hand around the back of my neck, and played with my lips, before timidly opening her mouth and tasting me with her dried tongue. She tasted like mouthwash and ginger tea; no doubt having used both recently in order to rid the taste of bile from her mouth. The more I kissed her, the more I needed to keep kissing her. I reached out and put my hand on her waist, pulling her t-shirt up so that I could touch her skin and pull her toward me.

My hands were cold, and so when I finally touched her side, she arched her back, pushing her breasts into me. I bit her lip and this caused her to moan, which set in motion a chain reaction in which I slowly moved my hand up until I was cradling her right breast, all the while deepening our kiss. Finally, things got so heated that she pushed forward a little bit so that she could take her top off. Thankfully, my sense of reason returned, and I stayed her hand, slowing my kisses to little, soft pecks.

"Hey Girlfriend Sam," I said, pushing my forehead into hers, "how are you feeling?"

"Better now," she said, although she still looked pale and weak. "How are you feeling?" She moved her left hand down my chest to the top of my scrub pants, past the knot that held them up and rain her fingers along my fully erect cock. "Ummm," she groaned, "you're feeling good."