“I think you know exactly what I’m going to do, don’t you?” She nods. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the first time we met.”
My hardened cock drags over her as I move it into position in the valley of her chest. I push her tits to encase my dick in their warmth. And fuck me if it doesn’t feel good. When the head pops out the other side, she shows me her naughty side. She lifts enough to flick her tongue across the crown.
“Fuck,” I growl.
I squeeze her tits thrusting slowly in and out. The friction is almost as good as being inside her. As an added bonus she sucks in the head of my cock. My fingers dig into her flesh as my eyes roll back from the sheer glory of it. A second or two later, it feels as though the world implodes as the magic shatters. My mind blanks as I pull free of her mouth and release her as if we’ve gotten an emergency evacuation notice. And maybe I have. Quickly, I scramble off the bed to find my shorts, and maybe my voice.
“What?” she asks, sitting up “What’s wrong?”
Words constrict my throat like a steel band as my dick goes completely limp. I shove it into my boxer briefs as I hastily pull them up, finding everywhere to look except at her.
“What?” Sam asks louder.
The quick glance I give her shows she’s pulled the sheet up to cover her tits. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you feeling okay?”
I shake my head.
“You’re scaring me, Ben. Tell me what’s going on.”
From the floor I find her eyes. My voice comes from a far off place. “I have seen a ghost,” I begin. Echoes of the past fill my head as I try to get out the words. “I found something hard.”
She grins, not getting it when I meet her eyes. “You mean your dick?” she teases.
I snap out the word, “No,” and her face turns paper white. “Whatever it is, I felt it in your breast,” I say shakily.
Immediately, her trembling hands cup her breasts and search for what I found. The act, which should have been seductive, is all of a sudden clinical and scares the hell out of me.
“Right one,” I croak out.
And I know exactly when she finds it. Her head lifts and abject fear mars her pretty face.
“Oh my God.”
The words come out as a sob and she’s right about needing a higher power. She continues to probe it as if the thing isn’t large enough to feel or if she’s hoping it will vanish beneath her fingers. But there is no denying what I felt. I tested it twice before I let her go as though she’d scalded me.
“I should’ve known better,” she mutters.
Before I can ask a question, more words spill from her lips.
“The doctor warned me.” She rocks back and forth, hugging her breasts with her hands.
There is no way I heard her correctly. “Warned you about what?”
Although she’s been looking at me, her pupils seem dilated, unfocused. They finally adjust on me as terror takes its ugly grip on her.
“About my family history with breast cancer.”
“Your what?” I stutter.
The horror that crosses her face pains me for a minute as the sound of my voice ricochets through the house. I hadn’t meant to yell those words, but I’m sure I didn’t hear her correctly.
“I have a long family history with breast cancer. My doctor suggested that I have preemptive surgery.”
A long family history. Cancer. I feel like I’ve been injected with ice as I stumble back, my body chilling from head to toe. I point an accusing finger at her.
“And when were you planning to tell me all of this?”
My voice sounds detached and that should worry me. But the ghost of my best friend spurs me on.
“Ben.”
Funny how when she said that earlier, I felt hope. Now I just feel numb. She gets off the bed, the sheet falling away. As she steps towards me naked, it should remind me of what we were just about to do. But all thoughts of sex have taken a back door to the fact that I need to breathe and can’t seem to remember how. I take another step back finding the wall and hold out a hand to stop her forward progress.
“You lied.”
The words destroy my heart and everything I thought I could have.
“Ben, I didn’t lie.”
The plea in her words eclipses the worry hidden beneath. Her eyes shine with what will turn out to be tears. I’ve seen it a thousand times before.
“Omitting the truth is the same as lying, Sam. You knew how I felt about cancer and you hid this from me.” My voice breaks and a familiar sense of loss invades my soul.
“I didn’t.”
She reaches for me, but I shake my head. My eyes burn like the words in the back of my throat. I ache with pain I thought I’d overcome.
“You did and we both know it.”
I don’t know which of us is more upset. She creeps closer as if she’s approaching a wild animal.
“Okay, but I wasn’t keeping it from you. I wanted to find the right time.”
“And the right time was when?” I demand.
I put more distance between us, heading for the door. Taking the hint, she picks up her bra and panties and then starts putting them on. I leave the room as she speaks.