Crystalline Zenith
I'm sorry if this story seems morbid or bestial, disgusting or pathetic, degrading or enraging, but, to me, it is a beautiful tale of selflessness, unconditional love, and. . .
Crystalline Zenith
All characters © me, Uoikih
". . . eep. . . eep. . . eep." The room was white, sheets; white; bed; white. The light that shone against the feline's closed eyelids were white. The pillows were soft and white beneath her head---the pain. Oh, the pain! Traveling in white-hot darts up her spine, through her shoulders, beating like drums behind her eyes. The pain, the pain, the pain. She dimly remembered another light, blood-red and explosive. She recalled another smell, of burning rubber and hot metal. She recollected upon another time, when the soft leather of the driver's seat cushioned her body, when the soft, classical music played in her ears, when her daughter laughed in the seat behind her. Then, the pain. The twisting screech of glass shattering and metal crumpling against her body. She remembered her neck snapping back as the airbag inflated suddenly, remembered her daughter's laughter turning to screams of agony. She recalled the smell of fire, felt and tasted the warm, salty blood on her lips again. She relived again the pain of being cut from her smashed car, relived the horror of watching a policeman walk by with a tiny, shrouded body in his arms. And remembered the little paw that had dangled limply from beneath that white sheet. Azelin. Oh, Azelin.
A tear trickled soundlessly down her cheek from under her closed eyelid. The machine she was hooked to still beeped automatically. She felt a gentle squeeze on her paw. "Krystal?" She turned her head in the direction of the voice, but her eyes still stayed shut. The tear dripped off her cheek and onto the pillow, where it melted into the white fabric. Again, the squeeze. "Krystal? Honey?" Her mouth worked soundlessly; her paw, held gently within the paw of the one who called her, clenched and unclenched weakly. "T. . . Ty. . .?" Her paw was squeezed again. "Oh, baby! I'm here; I'm here!" She felt her face being caressed, and winced as the paw fluttered over the cuts and bruises that the glass had etched into her face when the semi had hit her electric-blue Echo. The paw stopped. "Oh, Kryssie! I'm sorry; did I hurt you? Oh, baby, my baby!" She drew a breath. "I'm. . . fine, Tyler." Her voice was rusty with neglect; how long had it been since she had last spoken? "We. . . we lost Azelin." Tyler's voice was heavy with emotion, and he squeezed her paw again. "I know, darling, I know." The injured feline on the hospital bed took another deep breath. So much pain. "Tyler?" Her paw was caressed gently between both of her husband's. "I'm here, sugar. What is it?"
Krystal rolled her head toward the light. "Why. . . why can't I open my eyes, Tyler?" Her husband's voice sounded again, remorseful and tight with sorrow. "You can open one, babe. . ." Krystal drew another breath. "And the other?" She felt Tyler scoot closer to her, felt his lips caress her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, honey. The whole left side of your face. . . it's gone. Dead. The glass cut it too deeply for the doctors to save it. I'm so sorry, so sorry." Krystal forced herself to stay calm, to breathe deeply. "I. . . I can open both my eyes, Tyler." She sighed deeply. "Just my face. . . is gone." Tyler squeezed her paw. "No, babe, no, you can't. Your left eye is blind, gone. It's no longer there." Krystal rolled her face toward the light again. "Help me, Tyler. Help me. . . open my eyes." Her husband squeezed her paw again. "I. . . I can't, Kryssie. I---" His injured wife withdrew her paw from his. "Dammit, you can, Tyler," she hissed breathlessly. "I want to see the light. I want to see it, before I. . ." Tyler gasped and moved closer. "No! No; don't say that, darling! You're not gonna die!" Krystal turned toward him. "Help me open my eyes. Please, Tyler. Do it for me." She heard a low, hoarse sob, felt a warm tear drop onto her paw, then felt the pressure of two gentle paws upon her eyes. She winced as her eyelids were slowly peeled from her cheeks, where they were glued to the skin with dried tears and bits of caked blood, but, slowly, foggy shapes began to take form. Her eyes were open fully now, and she felt Tyler step back.
Slowly, she took in the white ceiling, the white sheets, the white cabinets, the stainless steel sink and bedposts, the call buttons nearby. . . and her husband's face. His pearl-grey fur was fluffy and disheveled. Krystal knew that he had stayed with her while she was in a coma. His orange eyes were wide with shock and sorrow, and he stepped to her side and took her paw again. 'Your eyes, Kryssie. They're. . . they're like twin blue pools of agony." Krystal gave her husband a lopsided smile. "Always the poet, Tyler, aren't you?" The tom sat down in a chair beside the bed and smiled back, even as tears rolled down his furred cheeks. "Yes, darling. And you are still so beautiful to me. So gorgeous." He stroked her right cheek lightly. Krystal looked down at herself. Her fur had once been a dazzling tortoiseshell pelt. But now, it lay limp and bedraggled upon her skinny, painfilled body, patched in some places where the doctors had had to shave her to put stitches in. Krystal's eyes returned to her husband. "I look like a badly shorn sheep." They both laughed sadly, even though they both knew that only one of them would walk out of that hospital room and return to life as Krystal would never again know it.
Krystal returned Tyler's reassuring squeeze. "God, I feel like crap." Her husband jumped to his feet. "Do you want a drink, hon?" Krystal nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." Tyler stepped over to the room's stainless-steel sink, filled a beaker with cool, clear water, and returned to his wife's bedside with her drink in his paw. Krystal smiled up at him. Tyler smiled back. Sliding a paw gingerly behind her shoulders, the pearl-grey tom lifted her higher onto the pillows and held the cup to her lips. Kystal drank slowly, controlling her horrible thirst, and felt new life coursing through her aching body with every gulp she took. Tyler held the beaker until Krystal was done drinking, then set it aside, sat back down in his chair, and took her paw again. The she-cat smiled at him, love shining from her blue eyes. "Thank you, honey." Tyler scooted closer. "Oh, anything for my tortiesweet, Kryssie, anything." Krystal chuckled. "Tortiesweet? That's what you called me when we were engaged." A delightful spark entered her eyes. "Remember our wedding day, Ty?" The grey tom laughed. "I think so." Krystal giggled. "Well, remember when the preacher was reading the vows and my little niece crawled up behind
Tyler roared with laughter, Krystal accompanying him with her sweet, melodic giggling. Their joy drowned out the montonous beeping of Krystal's heart monitor, strengthened their tight bond, increased their love for each other. Tyler calmed down first. Giggling, he wiped the tears from his face and took Krystal's paw again. They gazed into each other's eyes, the memory of their humorous wedding day fading back into other memories, fresher and much more painful. "Do you remember our vows, Kryssie?" The she-cat gazed at him fondly. "I do, Tyler." The tom embraced her awkwardly, as he was sitting and she was lying still. Krystal put a paw on his arm as her tears came again, not tears of joy this time, but tears of sorrow. Tyler sat back and pulled as close to her as he could, covering her marred face with gentle kisses, his lips smoothing her tears away, but his eyes wetting her cheeks with his own. "It's okay, darling; it's okay." Krystal sobbed quietly, her face inches from his, the beeping of the machines she was hooked up to again audible in her ears. "Tyler. . ." The tom pressed closer. "Kryssie? What is it?" The she-cat did not answer. Her eyes closed peacefully and she sighed. Tyler caught his breath. "Kryssie!?" The tortoiseshell she-cat's breathing slowed; the beeping of her heart monitor slowed. Tyler's paw tightened around his wife's. "Kryssie!?" He put his face close to her mouth and nose, and sighed with utter relief when he found that she had drifted off to sleep. Krystal muttered something and her beautiful turquoise eyes fluttered open again. Her lips moved. Tyler flicked his ears. "What did you say, hon?" Krystal smiled sleepily. "I said, 'Damn sleeping meds.'" Tyler smiled fondly at her. "You really do need to sleep though, Kryssie." The she-cat shook her head, coming fully awake again. "No, Tyler. There's something I need to tell you. I've known ever since I was brought into the hospital, and now, I think it's time for you to know." Her paw tightened on his wrist, moved up to his shoulder. "Tyler, I'm not going to live." Tyler gasped. "No! Don't say that, Krystal; don't ever say that! You're gonna live; you're not going to die!" He kissed her wrist. Krystal opened her eyes and faced him, pure love shining from her eyes.
"Tyler, I love you so much, my heart aches when I think of leaving you." The tom opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but Krystal shook her head. "No, darling, don't speak. I'm going to die, Tyler; no doctor or medication can save me now. But, even as my body prepares to slip into the eternal sleep, I've one final request for you." Tyler was crying unashamedly now. "Anything, Kryssie! Anything!" He kissed her wrist, breaking down in his sobs. Krystal reached her paw up to caress his cheek. "Make love to me, Tyler, just one last time."
"Darling. . ."
"Please, Tyler! Do it for me! I need to feel your love before I die." She faced him boldly. "Please. Do this for me." The tom gazed at her, tears flowing down both cheeks, then leant forward and kissed her mouth, tasting the salt of her tears on her soft lips. Krystal responded, opening her mouth, feeling her husband's paw cupping her cheek and jaw lightly, feeling his other paw traveling down to where her breasts swelled against the thin material of her hospital gown. Krystal met his tongue with her own, savoring every inch of his mouth lovingly. She pulled back slightly, her eyes locked with Tyler's. "Unhook me from these machines and the IV, Tyler." The tom pulled back, slightly shocked. "No. . . no, I can't do that! You'll die, Kryssie!" Krystal smiled sadly at him, and Tyler, hesitating for a moment longer, pulled the IV out of her paw, wincing, even when she did not, and unhooked the heart monitor from her body. When he reached for the oxygen regulator, however, Krystal shook her head. "Leave that on for now, Tyler." The tom nodded, and returned to her. Lifting her arms, the she-cat flexed her paws, massaged her wrists; then pulled the sheets away from her body. Although her legs had both been broken in the car wreck, she was not paralyzed in the least bit. The cause of her death was going to be her internal injuries. Even as she reached out to Tyler, she was hemorrhaging profusely from where her ribs had puntured her lung. She could just feel the warm blood seeping through her body, unrestricted by veins or arteries. The only thing keeping her alive at this point was the oxygen regulator, slowly filling her other lung with life-giving air, but the painkillers that had been filtering through her system from the IV were gone. She would have to rely on Tyler's expert paws and mouth to cause her enough pleasure to drown out the excruciating pain that would begin quite soon.
However, she told him none of this.
Tyler knelt on the bed beside his wife, leaning over her as he began his tender foreplay, being careful not to hurt her. The tomcat kissed her again, more firmly, and slipped his paw behind her body to undo the ties that held her gown closed. Once finished, he lifted it away from her body and dropped into onto the floor. Krystal drew a quick breath as Tyler's lips migrated from her mouth to her throat. The pearl-grey tom cradled her left breast in his palm, massaging over her hardening nipple with a gentle thumb, and did the same for her other breast. Krystal shifted as best she could to further aid her husband's last explorations of her gradually dying body, ignoring that fact and moaning under her breath as his mouth nibbled gently across her shoulderblades and closed over her right nipple. Tyler manipulated it gently, rasping his rough feline tongue over the sensitive pink flesh, and felt his wife's paws on his shoulders, pulling gently at his T-shirt. The tom helped her to slip it off of his muscled body and resumed his licking of her full breast. Krystal bit her lip to keep from moaning any louder, and slid her paws down Tyler's hard chest, stroking his furred pectorals gently. The tom nuzzled and tongued his wife's right nipple to full attention, and then turned his attentions to the left, tasting the silky flesh hungrily. While one paw stroked Krystal's side, the other drifted lazily down to her loins, his claws raking gently through the soft fur of her inner thighs, feeling the damp heat from her aroused slit. Krystal squirmed pleasurably, overlooking the dart of pain that raced through her body from her broken legs.
Tyler drew a wet path with his tongue between his wife's beautiful breasts, now fondling both of her sculpted hips, down her belly to her navel. Krystal's moan turned into a giggle of pleasure as her husband's whiskers tickled her flesh, and she tweaked his ear playfully. Tyler chuckled as he worked his tongue in circles around his wife's abdomen, stroking the tops of her thighs and groaning as his erect member strained against his jeans. He parted Krystal's thighs and inhaled her fragrance of arousal; he felt her fingers raking through the fur on his shoulders, exciting him further. He drew a gasp from her when he pressed his cold pink nose against her hot folds, then snaked his tongue out and deep into her. Krystal cried out, arching her hips painfully against his muzzle, feeling the lapping of blood inside her and her gush of tanginess onto Tyler's tongue. The tomcat, even as he tasted the deepness of her pink, still-tight well, unzipped his jeans, slid them and his boxers off his muscled legs, and squeezed his eight inches of thick black cathood firmly. Then, placing his paws on her thightops, he sank his tongue as far as it would go into her and licked hard. Krystal whimpered, mewling like a kitten as her husband swirled his tongue inside of her hottest flesh. Her nipples were erect and well-licked; their clothes were discarded, and her slit pulsed wetly around Tyler's tongue, clasping it as the raspy oral appendage scraped along her walls like the barbs on his member. Krystal writhed and arched against him, wishing that her legs worked, so that she could wrap her thighs around his head and drive his tongue deeper into her. delve. His tongue, as it delved into her deepest depths, places only Tyler could reach, was both hungry and thirsty. Hungry for her hot pink inner flesh; thirsty for the tangy juices that seeped out into his muzzle. Krystal grasped his ears and cried out again as he probed even deeper into her, lapping her walls well. The pleasure built and built until she exploded with a yowl and a burst of warm liquid across Tyler's muzzle.
The grey tom drank it in eagerly, groaning somewhat as her tail flicked over his sac, and then, shifting forward, pressed the head of his long black shaft against her throbbing folds. Krystal moaned, then cried, "Yes! Tyler, darling, do it!" The tomcat needed no second invitation; he rocked forward again and sank himself to the hilt inside of her. Krystal wrapped her arms around her husband's lower back and arched her hips painfully to meet his thrusts. A black cloud began to creep into the corners of her line of vision; she knew what it was. Yet, as Tyler timed his thrusts to her arches and his barbs raked her where his tongue just had, the pain inside her body was drowned out by the extreme pleasure of their bodies mingling. Tyler kissed her again as his hips moved to and fro against her own, sliding his rod in and out of her wet folds. Krystal's claws dug into his flesh, holding his warm body tightly against her own, as his hard chest rubbed against her full breasts and hard nipples, as their tails intertwined together, as Tyler's thrusts became faster and their moans louder. She faced into his eyes, and he faced into hers. Everything else was faded out by the blackness that almost fully claimed her now. "I love you," Krystal breathed. Tyler saw the look in her eyes and the tears came again. "I love you, Kryssie, so much."
Their bodies tightened in unison, and their cries mingled in the air as their orgasms hit them. Tyler shot his seed in hot jets into her loins; Krystal's hot juices mingled with his issue. The pressure in her body was building, engulfing her. "Goodbye, Tyler." Krystal pressed her lips to his in one last kiss and fell back across the pillows. She rode out of this world upon the waves of her last climax, and, as her last breath left her body, Tyler wept atop her and cradled her smiling face to his bare chest.
The End
I cried when I wrote this story. I couldn't see at times because the tears were so heavy, but my fingers flew over the keys, and this story was created. It took me thirty minutes; my first story of death and passion mixed. Well, you might be saying, "What about my Passion and Tragedy story? That one was about Chefuru giving his life for Jinika and Jinika commiting suicide to be with him. This story is about the lovemaking for the last time between a loving couple. I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to email me any comments about it at [email protected]
Yes, this has truly been a Crystalline Zenith!