DYING DECLARATION

BY NINA © 2003 - 2007 WITH PERMISSION TO MYSECRETOBSESSION.COM

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 Chapter 7

The cruise was incredible, and having Raquel with me made it all the more beautiful. We stood on the deck and watched things most people hardly even think about: walls of majestic glaciers, icebergs and ice floes, soaring ice covered mountains, the dark blue water breaking with the wake of a group of whales. Each time we would take each other's hand, or she would slip her arm inside mine and lean her head on my shoulder. Other times we just stared in wide-eyed awe at it all, our bodies cuddled together.

She fed me shrimp one night, right there at the table, and we giggled like teenagers when the cocktail sauce dribbled down my chin. People gawked at the gorgeous young woman and her older, silver-haired companion, but neither of us cared.

At night, we nestled together in our cabin, and let the wonder of the day flow between us as our bodies sought each other's deepest secrets. Each and every night, she slid her face from my neck down to my tummy and kissed me long and sweet, running her tongue from my navel up to just below my breasts, and then sucking and mouthing me gently around my upper abdomen.

A glow seemed to come over me each time, with each tender ministration of her mouth. It was accompanied by a warmth I cannot describe, almost an electric current, generated by her naked body, into mine. It was heavenly.

Astonishingly, I had only one day that I felt weak, and spent most of it resting in the cabin, but other than that, I felt energized, excited, and I made it to nearly eleven o'clock every night before my delicious young lover and I fell into each other's arms.

I'm sure that, by the end of the nine days, there was little doubt in any passenger's mind that Raquel and I were not mother and daughter, or office girlfriends. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, nothing but her, and my last chapter in this life.

When we returned, she sat with me at the table and took my hand.

"I need to tell you something." It was almost like I was being scolded, the way she said it. But I braced myself for something else, something like "goodbye." After all, she had a life, and she was young. She was everything I wasn't, and had all the things I didn't. I took a deep breath and nodded.

"I'm moving in here with you," she said, holding my eyes with hers, "and I'm taking care of you."

A thousand thoughts raced through me. Brian and Gina, along with Stan Rosenfeld, had already arranged for hospice. I knew this. I also knew that Brian and Gina were planning on moving in too, when things got... bad. I was stunned, deeply touched, and totally disarmed by her announcement.

"It's not... going... to work," I started to protest, but Raquel was already shaking her head.

"Yes it will. Leave it to me."

"Raquel, what about Brian and Gina? I mean, are you going to be the live-in massage therapist, for crissake?"

She smiled. "No, you should tell them the truth."

I thought about that, thinking it was a bad idea. Then, I thought, what's the difference? What are they going to do... disapprove? Not come over for next year's Thanksgiving? I won't be here anyway. I almost laughed out loud. Truth. Love. Reality.

"No more pretending," Raquel went on, stroking my hand, then bending her head and kissing it...

"They'll be here next week," I said, feeling helpless about the whole thing.

"And so will I. Unless of course, you are completely against it, Susan."

The look in her eyes just then was so intense, so full of assurance and silent wisdom, I had trouble mustering any kind of argument. In some mysterious way, it made me feel that it was imperative that she be there for me, that it was part of a greater plan of some sort. The glow returned just then, blanketing me, the way it did when her mouth heated and anointed my abdomen in our private, darkened moments under the sheets.

"No. I'm not against it. I want you near me," I said. I'm not sure if I had ever meant anything so much in my life.

Raquel's face was so full of peace and relief then, I knew that everything else, Brian and Gina, all of it, would somehow take care of itself. I would find out soon enough.

And what about her family? I wanted to meet them, to know about them.

"Soon enough, you'll meet them all," She said with a wry smile. That told me that they must be quite a crew, if they were anything like her.

The Headmistress of Hanniman's School for Girls sat bolt upright in her chair, a long black dress flowing to the floor, her hair in a tight bun. A knock at her office door signalled that her 1pm appointment with a student had arrived. She looked at her clock and smiled. It was 1:03.

The girl came in, her honey-highlighted hair flowing sensually over the shoulders of a crisp white blouse. Her uniform skirt was short and her bare legs shone gently in the light of the office as she stood there, slightly knock-kneed with trepidation.

"Raquel Simmons, ma'am. You wanted to see me."

"You're late girl," the Headmistress scowled at her.

The schoolgirl bowed her head. "Sorry, ma'am."

"It's quite clear that you need some serious adjustments, young lady. You were caught smoking last month. Now, you were up after dormitory curfew, and on top of that you are late to see me. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I... I..."

The Headmistress deepened the girl's fear by striking the side of her desk with a riding crop, causing her to jerk.

"I think you should start where every remorseful girl should start, and that is on her knees." The silver-haired Headmistress pointed to the floor in front of her. Raquel Simmons sank to her knees on the carpet of the office. The woman flipped through a file that was on her desk.

"What are we going to do with you, Raquel? Even your grades have fallen. Even after your punishment last time, it seems as though you continue your downward slide. Perhaps you are one of those, 'slow learners', hmm?"

"I don't... don't know, ma'am."

"No," the headmistress said, rising. "You certainly do not. Well, then we'll make this punishment a bit more memorable, so that next time, you will know."

Raquel was trembling as the Headmistress, just like last time, removed her long skirt, and stood before her in black lace panties and lace-up high heeled boots. She stepped toward the kneeling schoolgirl and tipped her chin up to her, standing so close that the girl could feel the heat of the older woman's body wafting around her face.

The headmistress toyed with Raquel's cheek, running her hand alongside it, then traced her lips and ran her fingers through her hair. She walked slowly around her, escalating the aura of control, and stood behind her now, her fingers still entwined in the youngster's silky tresses. She stepped closer, and held the girl's head against her body, knowing that Raquel could feel her mound against the back of her head.

"You are going to pay for wasting my precious time, child."

The headmistress smiled as she heard Raquel take a deep, sharp breath. Then she let go of her hair and went back to her loveseat. She looked Raquel in the eyes and patted her thighs. "Up here. Now."

Raquel knew what to do, and she meekly rose, walked to the Headmistress, and laid herself across her lap, breathing deeply. She bit her lip as she felt the woman's hands slowly draw her uniform skirt up and lay it on her back. This time, when lowering her panties, the Headmistress grabbed the waistband in the middle of the tiny cotton undies, and as she pulled them down, her knuckle cleaved it's way down the girl's exposed fissure, dangerously close to her hidden sphincter.

She worked the panties agonizingly slowly, prolonging Raquel's anticipation of the punishment, and finally rested the tiny white undergarment at her knees. Raquel's breathing was already very audible, and her mouth hung open amidst a forest of silky hair. Her mound rested just above the Headmistress' bare thigh.

Raquel gasped as the woman drew the tip of the riding crop down the middle of her back, and down the divide of her buttocks, the same trail her knuckle had just made. "What would your classmates think if they saw you in the shower with red marks on your bottom, Raquel?"

"Umm... I-"

"Silence now." The Headmistress followed the command with a swift strike of her open hand, forcefully on the center of Raquel's right buttock. The girl yelped and clenched, and Miss Orlander, the Headmistress, smiled as she felt the tender pubis of her ward press briefly against her thigh.

She administered nine more blistering strikes of her hand to the perfect buttocks of Raquel Simmons, who let out a muffled squeal with each hit. She squirmed on the Headmistress' lap, her young sex rubbing and grinding against the older woman's legs as she did.

With her young and pretty captive panting and trembling on her lap, Miss Orlander picked up the crop from her desk. "And, a little hint of things to come, Miss Simmons, if you are ever called to my office again. There will be one strike for each minute you were late today."

She whipped the crop into Raquel's thighs, connecting three times, each time higher and closer to the intimate flesh tucked within. Raquel's squeals turned to ragged moans at the painful strikes, and she sobbed softly as she lay there on her captor's lap.

"Now then. You are young, and I know that your skin is tender. I will make sure that you won't have any real bad marks there." She took a tube of skin lotion and squeezed a dollop of it into her hands. Then, she gently massaged the wounded upper thighs where her crop had found it's tender target.

"Th-thank you, mm-ma'am," Raquel uttered weakly.

The Headmistress said nothing, her fingers working high on the girl's inner thighs. As she admistered the healing lotion, her fingertips accidentally brushed too high, barely making contact with the pouty vaginal lips which peeked from within the schoolgirl's thighs. She rubbed the lotion down vertically, and without apology let the side of her pinky make full contact with the girl's exposed pussy lips, and a moan slipped from Raquel's throat.

When she knew that the girls' arousal was at its brink, she stopped.

She pulled the girl's panties completely off, and laid them on the floor. "Get up, Raquel, and kneel again."

Raquel, shivering and panty-less, complied without hesitation.

The Headmistress stood, again just inches from the girl's face. "I think now you need to thank your Headmistress for the correction, don't you?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Give me a hug now."

As Raquel wrapped her arms around the silver-haired woman, she felt a hand on the back of her head, bringing her face into the center of the lace panties. The Headmistress' warm sex was there, screened only by the gossamer black web of the soft fabric.

"You may show your gratitude with a kiss, girl."

Raquel kissed the fragrant mound, and then pressed her self up against the Headmistress. She quickly reached down and pulled her skirt up so that her naked femininity was pressed against Miss Orlander's lower leg. She kissed harder, and Miss Orlander calmly reached down and pulled the fabric of the panties aside.

Kissing the woman's naked pussy now, the kneeling girl humped her superior shamelessly, and cried out in deep esctasy as the sensations overwhelmed her.

"Amazing, actually... this is just... amazing."

I looked at Stan Rosenfeld, a man who doesn't look like he would get amazed by too much.

"What is it this time, Stan? We've gone from 'interesting' to 'amazing' in two weeks."

He dropped the stack of papers and printouts on his desk, and leaned back, studying me. "Yes, we have. The lesions on the anterior aspect of the pancreas are gone. The growths on the left side have diminished by at least half. I would have to say that you are nearly... in remission. This almost never happens, in this type of disease."

His words gave me goosebumps, and a light, airy feeling, like the kind you got as a little kid, looking down from a towering height. "Does this mean I have a chance of surviving this, Stan?"

He looked pale, but excited, almost frantic. He licked his lips and nodded as he reached for his phone. "Yes, Susan, it does. I think. I mean, look, I don't know for sure. Let me call a colleague of mine. I want him to look at everything. I want him to read your history, all of it, and see what he thinks and if he interprets everything the same way."

I didn't know what to do now. How was I supposed to act, if life was an option? I had been operating on the premise that every day was a step closer to the falling blade.

"In the meantime, I need you to make a list of everything you've been doing, what has changed in your lifestyle, and if you don't mind, just some notes about this new love affair, how it has affected you. I still want to meet this--"

"Raquel!" I called out, reaching behind me and rapping on the door of Stan's office. She had been waiting in the waiting area just outside. The door opened and my beautiful lover walked in, wearing a long skirt and sleeveless top of mine, that never looked so good on me, even when I was twenty-four.

Stan looked from me to her in confusion.

"This is Raquel, Stan," I said quietly. "She's the love of my life."

Raquel beamed, then bent and kissed my lips softly before rising back up and taking the hand of a very astonished doctor.

"Hi, Dr. Rosenfeld, it's nice to meet you."

Stan composed himself, and smiled. "Well. It's very nice to meet you too." He was star-struck.

But then, my Raquel has that way with people.

Brian and Gina's visit was remarkable. They had something to tell us. Well, that made, umm, four of us, didn't it?

Gina was pregnant. I was floored, and so delighted I couldn't see straight. Then, we told them first about my remission, and the amazing healing that had taken place. Then, we dropped the big one on them.

They sat in stunned silence, and they both cried. Gina just stared at Raquel, with the most amazed smile on her face, while Brian, my moody son, got up and walked out the door to the pool, walking in slow circles out there, rubbing his chin, looking off in the distance. I knew he would be all right, somehow, but I just didn't know how long it would take. He left two days later to return to work, troubled and confused, while Gina stayed on.

Raquel, within seconds of us telling them the truth, looked at Gina first. "I'm sorry we lied to you. We just didn't know what else to do at the time."

Gina, tears running down her face, had nodded. "It's ok."

I wasn't sure what Gina was going to do, but bless her, she finally wiped her tears, and hugged Raquel. "I'm so glad you are in our lives," she said as they held each other. Raquel's tears told me how relieved she was.

"Brian will be ok," Gina assured me the next day. "I'll work with him."

A month later, we paid a third visit to Stan's office. My cancer had all but vanished. Rosenfeld's colleague, another very experienced and well-respected oncologist, wanted to document the whole journey, and write a paper with Stan, maybe even a book, on the healing power of love in cancer patients. He was particularly interested in Raquel's tummy kisses, which I described without embarassment. I even told him that I had found tremendous joy and fulfillment in helping Raquel live her sexual fantasies. He scribbled notes like a student cramming for a test.

We came home that day, and made love all afternoon, in the pool, like we had the first time we met, on the sofa, and even in the kitchen. She had gone shopping for me, and was putting things away, and I just couldn't resist her, and I stripped her as she leaned over the counter. I knelt behind her, and my face buried in her secrets until her knees could longer hold herself up.

A completely amazing thing had happened, something so profound that it had moved two experienced oncologists to tears, to laughter, and to a collaboration on a book. I had found the love of another woman, a very special woman, and her love healed me.

The fourth strangest phone call of my life occurred one cool afternoon, as I lay in my hammock, reading. Raquel had gone to the store for some things.

"Hi," the voice said on the other end. "Is this Susan?"

"Yes, what can I do for you?

"I'm Yolanda Williams. I'm an RN at Wayside Hospital. Someone here is asking for you. Her name is Raquel, according to her driver's license. She's been in a car accident. She called your name several times, and we found a business card in her purse with your name written on it."

I was confused. So Raquel was in a car accident. Why didn't she just give the nurse my phone number, I asked?

"She... couldn't. She only said your name."

That's when I realized it was very, very bad.

Don't cry for Raquel, sweet reader. But I know you will. Because she told me, as I stood there, holding her hand in the Intensive Care Unit, not to cry for her. But of course, I did. She couldn't speak, but I heard her, loud and clear, and I heard her as that warm glow returned to me. She was glowing all around me, when she left. I cried as I felt her slip away, but she kept me warm with her energy. And her message was clear: I was going to live, and she would never really leave me.

And today, I stand here, by her grave, a month after her sudden departure, long after I have cried an ocean of tears for my lovely Raquel, I understand it all.

At first, I wasn't able to figure out why we couldn't find her family, and that they never found her. After the accident, I called Angels on Call, to get information on Raquel's family, and I couldn't find their number. It wasn't in my yellow pages anymore. How could that be?

I called another escort agency, two others, in fact, and they both said they had never heard of the place.

"Honey I've been in this business thirty years," one gravelly voiced woman, the manager of Dream Girl Escorts, told me, "and I've never heard of Angels on Call. It's a small industry, and we all pretty much know each other in this area."

You see, I didn't know it at the time, but I was chosen to survive, though I didn't know why. I knew why later, when Brian walked through my door just a few days ago, hugged me, and said he was going to name their daughter "Raquel."

It was quite obvious then, though few would believe me. I had called Angels on Call, and an angel was sent to me. A real one. She had a family all right, just not here on earth. You'll meet them all soon enough, she had told me. Raquel, my angel, came to heal me with love, to teach me what healing love was, so I could share it with others.

And then she left.

I'm leaving the cemetery now, but instead of tears, there is a smile on my face. I'm going skydiving today, and I'm going to see my Raquel. She is going to be there when I jump, when my body soars, she'll be nestled in the white puffy clouds, the way she was nestled under my sheet on the sofa, naked, giggling, and eating pizza. She'll be watching me, talking to me, making me glow.

And I'll fall, fall, fall, with her breath flowing all around me.

THE END

AND THE BEGINNING