Within no time, I was out of the casts and bandages.Nurse Maxwell entered the room. “I have received news of your impending discharge. I see those r...strictive casts are off, and the bandages have been removed. I guess you are happy to have that over and done with.”“Oh yes, most definitely. I am also ready to get a shower and get into regular clothes,” I reply.“Well, in that case, I will leave you to it, I’ll be back later to check you out. I’ll also try and get in touch with your uncle, so he. So I waited for hours, worrying and just being scared for the woman I’d lived with and learned to love for such a large part of my life. Finally the doctor and the surgeon who’d performed the operation met me in the waiting room to drop the bombshell: my wife had ovarian cancer. They’d been able to surgically remove most of it but it had spread to her lower bowel and they’d had to perform a bowel resection. He glumly informed me that they’d not been successful in completely removing all of the. She moans as the palm of my right hand grips her hip and pulls her back just a bit. The strength of grip, the power in my touch, sends lightning bolts through her and her legs shake.She bites her lower lip again as her breasts, hanging free, sway slightly back and forth. I let my hand trail over her hip and across the top of her ass, my finger tips just barely touching her. I watch as more goose bumps rise over her skin. My fingers trail across her lower back in a wide circle before. All of the ladies are wearing 20’s style gowns, those who smoke exhibit their cigarettes held in long holders twirled between fingers clad in lace opera gloves. Many wear extravagant, colour-coordinated hats. The dress code of red and black chosen specifically to blend with the environs of the room.You are wearing an off –the- shoulder red silk dress, tight to the body, hugging your butt, thighs and calves, leading one’s eyes to the impossibly high patent stilettoes which you can only barely.