Just Friends? Part 7 (Conclusion)

My entry in the Reader Retention contest.

Just Friends? Part 7 (Conclusion)

by **Sigh**
Copyright © 2019 plaintivesigh
All Rights Reserved.

There are good friends. There are good lovers. Then there is the rare, glorious combination of the two.


~o~O~o~

Dr. Rama discharged Rick from Passages two days later.. He still was to return for counseling on a less intense scale. Now Rick was waiting for Meghan to pick him up and take him home.

“Your ride is here, Mr. Russo,” the intake nurse said. He picked up his bags and headed towards the doors. Dr. Rama intercepted him.

“Let me walk with you, Rick. I’ll officially hand you off to your friend. I don’t always do this, but you’ve been an exceptional patient. I want to see you two leaving here together, like a ‘happily ever after’ scene in a movie. Just remember, unlike romance films, a lot of work is necessary to have successful happiness.”

“Got it, doc,” Rick replied. “Don’t worry. I know I’m better, but I’m not so cocky as to think I’m finished healing. I’ll keep the appointment with you on Friday.” He then smiled wide; Rama noticed

“I can’t wait to see Meg again, even though we’ll just be shaking hands for now,” the big man said. Rama punched the unlock code for the facility doors, and they walked through. But Meghan wasn’t there.

“Surprise, big guy” said a wavy haired blonde girl in a skirted power suit; Lizzie. “Meg had to work the full day, and she was already on shaky ground with her boss over the schedule changes and a missed shift or two. So you got me taking you home. I borrowed my brother Sammy’s truck; my little Miata wasn’t built for giants.”

“Lizzie – this is Dr. Rama,” Rick said. “He’s been my shrin – uh, psychiatrist - here.”

Liz’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Dr. Ramanathan? You’re nothing like your picture. I did a search on your name and Passages … and the impression I got was of a middle aged, chunky guy. But you … “ Liz stared at the doc. He was trim, fit, dark skinned, and had a hint of stylish stubble on his face. Early thirties, Lizzie guessed. No ring on left hand.

“Ah. I’ll bet you pulled up my cousin," the doc answered. "He’s also a Dr. Ramanathan – psychiatrist, same as me – and he heads up the Passages hospital in Kissimmee, Florida. In fact, his recommendation helped me get the position at this Passages facility.”

“I hope you’ve been doing right by my friends Rick and Meg. If not, I’ll have to come and teach you a thing or two,” Lizzie said with a slight grin.

“Ah … “ Dr. Rama looked suddenly flustered “Well, If you feel you have to, I wouldn’t mind.” He then glanced down to this right holding his gaze maybe a little too long.

Omigod. He just did a wedding ring check on me! Liz thought. She pulled out a business card and wrote on the back of it. She then handed it to Rama. “if you need any help with investments, please contact me. It was really nice to meet you.” She and Rick then walked out to the truck.

“Didja write your cell number on the back?” said Rick as they got in.

“Yes,” Liz smiled. “Along with two words.”

Rick grinned and nodded. “CALL ME. Right?”

~o~O~o~

Meg tasted the pasta dish she’d whipped up. “Perfect,” she said, smacking her lips. “Tasty, but not too filling. Leaving plenty of energy for later.” She removed her apron and walked into the living area to view how she looked. Her low cut green spaghetti strap blouse needed something; she put on the petite gold jacket she’d pulled out. “There we go.” The black miniskirt with dark hose and green pumps were the perfect complement. Her red hair was in an attractive “up-do” to keep it out of the way while she cooked … and for another reason too. She reviewed her mental checklist: “Candles lit … lights dim … soft guitar music … wine – wait, WINE? Omigod, don’t tell me I forgot the wine!”

The doorbell rang. Too late to get wine now, dammit. Oh well. She hopped eagerly to the door and opened it.

There stood Rick in a jacket and tie. His eyes lit up upon seeing Meg, and he broke into a huge smile. “Wow. Just … wow,” he said. He extended a bouquet of huge red roses to her. “I tried to get some blooms that would match your beauty, but that’s just impossible; these were the closest I could come. I also brought the vino, as promised.” He produced a bottle of Sauvignon blanc in his other hand.

“Whew!” Meghan exhaled. “That’s right, you said you’d bring the booze. Pretty classy booze, too.”

“Are you impressed?”

“You’re doing good, buster. Keep it up!” she laughed. “Are you ready for dinner? Because it’s ready for us.”

~o~O~o~

“MMmmm, Meg. Are you sure you’re Irish? Because you can cook a great Italian supper.”

“This is my 3rd and best attempt at it. I’ve been practicing all week. Be thankful you didn’t have to eat my first go-round with that recipe. How was work today?”

“You’re interested in my work?”

“I’m interested in YOU. I want to be a part of your life – ah, I mean, since we’re dating now, I want to experience every aspect of you – the mundane and the exciting, the ups and the downs. I want to be the best friend I can to you, Rick.”

“I see. What about being more than just friends?”

“Well … you know what today is, right?”

“Oh yes. How could I forget?”

“Almost nine weeks ago, we promised Dr. Rama we’d have no intimate contact for sixty days. And we kept our promise this time. I’m so proud of us!”

Rick lifted his wine glass. “A toast, to completion of the 60 days.”

Meg clinked her glass to his. “And a toast to us.”

~o~O~o~

Now Rick was sitting on the couch in the den, sipping the remaining drops of his glass of wine. Meg had excused herself to use the restroom. She now entered the den.

“I felt a little stuffy so I took my jacket off. Can I take yours from you?”

Rick complied. Meg reached for his Windsor knot, and loosened his tie. “Let’s get you comfy.” She then pulled the pins from her hair, and it cascaded sexily down her shoulders as Rick watched. She slid onto the couch, snuggling up under his right arm and pressing her bosom into his chest. He ran his fingers through her flowing auburn locks as she lay her head on his shoulder. Gently, he lifted her chin with his left arm, and met her face with a warm, open-mouthed kiss. They continued kissing for many minutes.

Now Rick’s shirt was mostly unbuttoned, with Meg’s right arm massaging his hairy chest. His right hand massaged her breast, then her butt.

“Are you ready to move into the bedroom?” she breathed.

“I am. Still worried about disappointing you.”

“Don’t you be. I’m halfway about to orgasm just right now. I know you can make me come without penetration; you did that when we got intimate that first time.”

“Yeah. But I can’t get you that filled-up sensation.”

“If I need that, we can use the brand new sex toy I showed you. I’m worried about you getting satisfied, though.”

“Well, about that. Why don’t we try you sucking on me. If that doesn’t work, well. I’ve been researching that ‘prostate stimulation’ technique you told me about … and … I might be open to you trying that. Just take it slow, okay?”

“Really! Oh, I’m excited to try it. You know, Rick – I think we’re going to be fine. OOOH!”

Meg gasped in surprise as the big man stood up and hoisted her in his arms like a groom taking his wife across the threshold.. He then proceeded to the bedroom.

~o~O~o~

Hours later:

The couple lay naked in bed, entwined together.

“How are you doing, Rick? Emotionally? Are you upset or disappointed at all?” Meghan queried, afraid to outright ask about the S word – suicide.

“Meg – I’m feeling great. Don’t worry. No despair, no hopelessness, nothing anywhere near the state I was in when the Doc committed me.”

“Good. Because I’m still floating in the stratosphere. This was the best lovemaking I’ve ever had.”

Rick craned his neck to look at her. “The best? Come on – I know Derek and you had a pretty physical connection, and his dick –“

“Lovemaking to a woman is more than just penis, Big Bear – and you did all the right things. Foreplay, loving sexy words, rubbing and squeezing and assuring me that you’re super attracted to me. You put my needs first, and you trusted me to put yours first. “

“Meg … I could tell you were putting my needs as your priority. Thank you so much for that. It was amazing,” whispered Rick. “Better than I ever hoped. I came with more intensity than I ever have. You’re a miracle, baby.”

“I lost count of how many times I came! Six … seven? God,” Meghan sighed. “Your magic fingers and mouth - you played me like a violin. I love how you started off gentle and caressing, and then progressed to a hard pounding fuck with the tool. Every sex fantasy I ever had – you made them come true.”

Rick fretted. “How are our future lovemaking sessions ever going to match up to this one?”

“Hahaha! Don’t worry, I won’t expect this intensity every time. But it’s thrilling to know this bliss is possible for us.”

“Meg.”

“Yes, Big Bear?”

“I love you. You are the best friend – and now the best lover – I’ve ever had.”

“I feel the same way, Rick. Every day with you is a dream come true.”

“So … would you be opposed to making this permanent?”

“Um … what are you –“ Meg sat up as Rick moved off the bed. Reaching into the pocket of his pants hung on the bedroom chair, he turned to her and dropped to one knee, presenting her a small box. He opened it, saying “Save my life one more time, Meg. Please marry me.”

She squeaked and screamed as he put the ring on her finger. Then she tackled him to the floor and smothered him with kisses.

~o~O~o~

One year later.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Russo. Richard and Meghan, correct? I’m Dr Ivanovich. Your urologist referred you here, right? I’m sorry, we can’t find the referral form he faxed to my office. We’re having them re-fax it now. Can you tell me why he sent you to me?"

Rick sighed. “I’m here because I promised my new urologist – Dr. Sawyer – I’d see you once. I always follow doctor’s orders; I learned that the hard way.”

Dr. Ivanovich furrowed his brow. “You know, I’m a plastic surgeon who specializes in transgender confirmation surgery, especially female-to-male cases. Are you a male who was born female?”

Ricks face twisted in confusion, as did Meghan’s.

“Doctor, I’m a transgender female, and I’m married to Rick, a genetic male. Neither of us wants to change our current gender. There must be a mistake?!”

Rick spoke. “My urologist said I might need removal of the rest of my penis. It was severely injured during a botched circumcision when I was a baby, and I had a bad motorcycle accident last month that damaged it further. The pee-tunnel is having trouble staying open, and it will lead to bladder and kidney damage unless we remove the obstructed part of my dick.

“I’m not looking forward to having it amputated totally. I guess I felt like I at least had a dick, even if it was deformed. My old urologist – Dr. Hill – always told me nothing could be done to help it.”

The plastic surgeon now was nodding. “Oh, okay. I think I understand. I’ve heard of Dr. Hill; he retired at what, 85? That may explain a lot. Sometimes as we docs get older, we don’t keep up with new developments. Your new urologist – Sawyer – is at state-of-the-art surgeon; I've worked with him on many cases.”

Rick and Meghan looked at each other, then back at Dr. Ivanovich. “Are you saying that Rick wasn’t getting the most up to date advice from his previous urologist?”

Ivanovich sidestepped Meg’s question by asking one of his own. “What about sensation and function in your penis – as in, erections and stimulation?”

“I can’t get anything like a hard-on. The head of my penis can still feel, though, and I get a lot of pleasure when Meg pays attention to it.”

Meghan nodded, with just a hint of blushing. Discussing their sex life with doctors – especially a new one – was still a little uncomfortable.

The doctor examined Rick’s groin area, then sat down to talk to the couple again.

“Have you been disappointed in your lack of a fully functional penis, Rick?”

“I – um – nearly killed myself over it. But I got help from a good psychiatrist. And the unconditional love and affection of my wife here has made life and sex enjoyable in spite of my defect. I just worry that it’ll be even harder for me to get an orgasm if it’s totally cut off.”

“Well, you absolutely must be able to empty your bladder; if it’s getting obstructed from scarring, that’s a problem. But tell me – have you ever heard of phalloplasty?”

Rick shook his head.

“It’s the creation of a functional penis – one that you can pee through and have intercourse with – in a person who doesn’t have one. I create them for transgender males, and for men with penises amputated due to trauma or cancer. I’ve developed new techniques that can salvage any stimulatory tissue and use it to give yourself pleasure as well as your partner. It’s not as good as a natural penis, but I’ll bet I can give you more than you’ve ever had. Interested?”

Rick looked at Meghan with an inquisitive face.

She replied “I’m going to love you – and make love to you – penis or not, Bear. I’ll stand by whatever you choose.”

Rick turned back to the doctor. “Hell yes. I’m interested!”

~o~O~o~

THE END

~o~O~o~

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