A Good Night (Tread carefully if you are sensitive.)

[AJoeOfSubjectiveQuality]

I lie here in my bed, resting. The rhythm of my heartbeat, slow and steady, is in my ears. She bends over me, cooling my flesh with a damp cloth. Her touch is gentle, and she smiles at me.

That smile takes me back in time. I see the smiles in my memory, of lovers and not-lovers alike, lovers and friends, sometimes foes. It's funny how the years can wash away animosity; the negativity fades and you can only see the missed opportunities, the chances for peace not taken or missed. What could have been, should have been. My breath hitches at the thoughts.

There have been a lot of them. My journey through Life has been long, my loves many. Nearly all are gone now, though. The tears well in my eyes as their faces flash by. My pulse quickens as I sob quietly. The cool, damp cloth hesitates as she senses my distress.

She bends over me, and I gaze at her delightful breasts in the dim light, a gift to me. Soft and warm, large enough to fill one's hands with delight, and capped with pretty pink nipples begging to be kissed. It's difficult to be sad when presented with the ultimate comfort, for who can really not love a woman's breasts? Our first nourishment, a cradle for your head when the world is too strong, a landing zone for endless kisses. My heartbeat quickens further at the sight of such loveliness, Ah, but only if I weren't so tired now.

But my eyes are getting heavier now, and she moves off. I feel the loss, the pang in my chest, and the tears come freely now. The thudding of my pulse diminishes as the light fades and sleep comes for me. She speaks, but I cannot understand through my drowse.

She is persistent, though. She pulls back the sheet and straddles my hips, leaning forward, her hands on my chest. I can feel the heat between her thighs warming me, her nether lips caressing me through the cloth that separates us. Were I not so tired, she would be bringing my hardness back to its youthful glory. Her hands on my heart, pressing firmly, quickening, but I am going to sleep now. As I drift off, I am vaguely aware of the room filling, people shouting, spoiling an old man's last moment with an angel. For no sick person has ever thought any less of a nurse than an angel. But still, it was a fine last few moments before my long rest. Her heady perfume is the last scent as I drift off. It was a good night.