HotFlashFiction

Romantic Vignettes and Titillating Tales

"I like a woman's laugh." Marty volunteered.

"Her laugh?" jeered Bill.

Zack had asked what they had all favored about women and there had been the gamut of typical responses: ass, legs, tits, eyes. But, for Marty it had always been her laugh.

"Yes," he justified flatly. "It jacks me to no end to see that I please my woman."

There was little they could say to that, not when all their answers had been superficial features that pleased them. Not when they all knew he was right. What man didn't want to please women. In fact, wasn't that the exact reason that half of their friends had left their wives over the last decade? Because they had come to feel that they no longer pleased her?

Marty wasn't meaning to somber the jovial mood. It wasn't often the old gang got together anymore, what with the kids and jobs and all. They had taken the weekend to climb Mt Washington and were now resting on the crest of the summit gazing over the mountains and valleys towards the northern horizon, their packs tumbled off their backs into a heap.

He had another reason for being grateful for Sally's laughter. She was alive when according to all the specialists, she shouldn't be. He wasn't going to divulge that information though because he knew there was only so much reality a group of men, even long time friends, could handle without a bottle between them. The guys were great, and they did, sincerely, care. Sal had grown up with all of them and they knew her well. They'd struggle with the loss of her and he didn't want to invite further misery, not when everything was going so well. His worry and helplessness was enough to bear; theirs might just break him. So, he sat silently looking out towards Quebec, enjoying the cool water sliding down his parched throat.

He had left her beneath the crumpled comforter, well satisfied. When she was struggling, their love making ceased. But, when she was recuperating from one of her bouts of illness, her appetite came back with a vengeance. The first day out he actually had trouble walking straight, though no one seemed to notice. He wasn't inclined to share that tidbit either.

Her lips had been so deeply red, crimson almost, and he had kissed her swollen. Her cheeks flushed whenever she was aroused, which offset the vibrancy of her blue eyes. Eyes like blueberries, rimmed with navy and graduating a lighter shade towards the iris. Her breasts were pink from fondling and there were red imprints on her ass where he had inadvertently gripped too hard. She hadn't seemed to mind, but he noticed with regret all the same as he lifted the covers to gaze at her before he left.

"Don't leave me, Baby." He almost hadn't heard her say it. But, Marty turned and looked at her face covered beneath piles of tangled hair. Her finger tips curled towards him ever so slightly.

Sliding his warm hand down the crease of her spine, and into the crack of her ass, he decided they'd wait for him a little while longer. He dove his face down into her sweetness as if they hadn't been at it all night, as if they had just met and he was still discovering her. As if he'd never taste her again.

Sal had arched up into his face, groaning, reaching back sleepy hands to further encourage her awakened sensations. When she came, she rushed like her life depended on it. And, in some ways, Marty thought, it maybe did.

And that's why he loved her laugh. Because she didn't do that in half measures either. It was either a simple smile, or a huge beam, followed by an infectious belly laugh.

He hadn't had time to wash being late from the procrastination, and could still smell her in his beard. Smiling at his private revery, he was glad she was there with him. She couldn't endure long hikes anymore, and had loved it up there above the clouds. 'Roaming free,' she'd call it. She had been one of the only wives who would hike with them. Hell, Bill's wife wouldn't go anywhere without her curling iron and makeup.

"There's that bear again!" Paul said excitedly, pointing.

"I'll be damned!" Marty exclaimed. "It's at if it's following us."

"Eh, it's a bit early for bears to be returning to high country, but maybe this one's just eager to claim a good spot for winter." Frankie shrugged. He was a forester for the State and saw his share of wildlife.

But, as Marty watched the bear, who had sat back on its haunches to watch him with cocked head, he felt his skin rise.

~~~~~

Within the hour after Marty had left her, Sal felt her soul slip away. She hadn't fought it as she had previously. This time, she knew it was the right time, and that he'd be OK.

Well, as OK as he could be loosing her. They had been together almost their whole lives. But, this illness had been with them for more than a decade now and he had come to accept the inevitable outcome.

More importantly, she knew that he knew how very thoroughly she had loved him. There had been a spell, as there always are in marriages, where he had doubted that. But, slowly, over time, and through shared experiences, and of course, the illness, he'd recognized her devotion and deep affection. For Sal, there could never have been anyone else. And, when Marty saw that truth, he'd poured himself into her, and into their relationship. Because, they both knew, too, that he was different. Sal knew Marty could love another, eventually, despite how much he loved her.

He had been a good friend and a delicious lover. Sal had no regrets and died satiated in every capacity, surrounded by the aroma of their love. She sighed her last breath into his pillow, feeling ultimately blessed.