1 comments/ 10720 views/ 0 favorites A New Lease By: ufpe The sound of a blaring car horn shattering the still morning air prematurely ended my exotic wet dream of sex starved nymphs pampering my aged torso with gleeful abandon. Didn't have many of these dream at my age, and silently cursed the owner of the blaring horn knowing it would be highly unlikely to recapture the erotic sensations. Vivian, my trusted companion for the past thirty five years was snoring blissfully next to me with the sheets haphazardly pushed to the foot of the bed. The years had been good to her, a little larger and less will defined than earlier, but when compared to some of the flotsam thundering through Walmart, I considered myself fortunate. Quietly I rolled out of bed and staggered out to the kitchen to get the coffee started. The daily rag was thoughtfully stuck in the mail slot, and I separated the sections and began my morning ritual of digesting the sensationalized BS. Viv was a light sleeper and was soon shuffling to the kitchen table where I sat in her threadbare robe and bunny slippers. Her hair looked as if it has experienced the business end of a thermonuclear air burst, and her eyes showed a few more wrinkles than they revealed when she wore the face paint it took half on hour to apply before she even considered the thought of leaving the condo. Staggering over to the coffee maker silently, she poured a cup of joe and ceremoniously sprinkled it with powdered creamer before wandering over to the table and plopping down unceremoniously. She glanced at me briefly while I was buried in the headlines and took a tentative sip before opening the "Family Section." Viv liked that section with all the pictures of folks in the community and the Want Ads that posted all the garage sales she and I would frequent most every weekend. Fortunately, Viv had a keen sense of direction and we seldom required a map during our weekend ventures through the sprawling suburbs. The almost oppressive silence was broken sometime later when Viv spoke up. "Hey Jack, take a look at this," she said as she handed me a page of the want ads. "OK dear, what am I looking at?" "There's an add for ED down in the lower right hand sheet. . ." she mumbled, "some new kind of treatment and they make house calls." "Oh come on now," I replied indifferently. "Probably just another scam." My "delivery system" went into retirement shortly after I had, and nothing had revived it to its former glory. We tried creams, pills, awkward pumps, and even briefly discussed surgical implants, but combined with Viv's dry and raspy interior, we both inevitably decided to leave well enough alone. I do miss my morning woody at times, like after last nights juicy dream, but the reality was that I'd probably croak with a heart attack if coitus was ever attempted. Viv snatched the paper back and refocused on the article. "I'm going to call them anyway," she stated firmly. "It says it won't cost anything." "Honey," I began tentatively, "I smell rip-off from the get go. Can't we let just let a sleeping dog lie?" "Jack, you may not believe this, but there are still times when I wouldn't mind feeling your 'sleeping dog' inside me;" she punched the numbers on the cordless phone keypad and listened thoughtfully. "There's cucumbers in the fridge you know," I offered, already resigned to the forthcoming experience in futility. Vivian glared at me until someone answered the phone on the other end. Viv gave surprisingly little information and hung up with a smug look on her face. "They'll be here this afternoon." I nodded indifferently, and studied the stats from last nights game. At this point in my life, I have learned to take things as they come. Most all my friends had evolved beyond the wild sperm shooting hunts of our youth towards a mature collective of story tellers that had virtually forgotten performance and conquest issues. Sex was for the young and dumb, far too often resulting in regrets rather than long term fulfillment. Despite the constant array of commercials encouraging youthful pursuits, we were quite content with past conquests and our daily regimen of prescribed medications. Shortly after one thirty in the afternoon, a small white delivery van pulled into the guest parking and two white figures emerged carrying small bags. The van had a small emblem on the side that I couldn't decipher. Viv answered the door and offered a seat on the couch opposite the two easy chairs she and I most occupied. The male and female "technicians" were strikingly unremarkable in their appearance, early thirties I would guess and set about their tasks quickly and professionally. First, there were a battery of questions concerning our medical backgrounds which was quickly followed by a brief (yet stimulating) physical exam. The male member had my wife disrobe while the female member took me under counsel. Standing semi-naked, she unemotionally pulled down my bvds and gently examined the offending flesh with the curiosity of a virgins first time exploration. Her hands were cool and baby soft, gently manipulating my wrinkled and lifeless flesh. Although no apparent physical reaction was triggered, the feeling of her gentle manipulations induced sensations that my dreams evoked. Meanwhile, Vivian was slouched in the chair as skillful fingers stirred her genitals into noticeable arousal. The air became thick with her essence and her genitals became fully engorged. The angry red swelling of her clitoris transported me back briefly to the passion filled nights of our youth when she would moan with sexual abandon and squirt forcefully upon climax. Flushed, with hearts pounding and libidos raging, we sank into our perspective chairs to await our prognosis. It had been a most arousing inspection, and I briefly wondered if our two visitors were a new kind of deviant that preyed on aging couples. From their bags, they withdrew two syringes with a different color extract in each one before sitting on the couch. They explained they were from the Stellar Regenerative Institute, a research community that focused upon procreative dysfunction. They had developed several experimental inoculations that target biological reconstruction through tiny nanobots. The cumbots (as they were called) would remain active for 48 to 72 hours before being eliminated through the urine with very little discomfort. Thus far, the results were promising and permanent. With over a 98% success rate, we could become the newest participants in this treatment with merely a signature on a consent form and a follow-up phone call. Vivian was enthusiastic, but I was skeptical. Perhaps years of work in the competitive world had made me so. I always searched for the downside to balance against the positive benefits. This "treatment" triggered alarm bells for several reasons. First, I'm not to keen on inserting mechanical devices into biological organisms (see surgical implants noted above). Second, these "cumbots" were injected into my urethra. Forgive me for my belief in the creation of a tube for elimination shouldn't be used conversely. I hate enemas for that reason. Finally, along with a fore mentioned "sleeping dog" rational, sex can be both mentally and physically stressful - a condition my Doctor recommended I avoid. We had cucumbers, bananas, my tongue, fingers and no need for impregnation. Needless to say, with a few more assurances and Vivian's ever present encouragement, the technician was soon on her knees in front of me easing my underwear over my knees unceremoniously. Opening a sterile package containing a long thin flexible tube, she screwed it into the vial with greenish yellow liquid. Firmly holding my lifeless organ upright, she guided the tube in slowly with both hands and returned to bracing my now stunned organ with one hand while the other slowly eased the pre-lubed tube down its length and adjacent to my prostrate where it stopped. Vivian had her legs draped over the arms of her recliner as the male technician screwed a small perforated phallus on to the vial filled with reddish brown liquid. He slowly eased the phallus into her quivering birth canal until it disappeared completely as she drew a deep breath. Almost simultaneously, the technicians pressed the plungers and Vivian an I squirmed with the disquieting sensations of our mutual fluid invasion. I experienced a slight burning sensation quickly followed by the unmistakable urge to pee. Vivian began to squirm rhythmically until, as the contents were completely drained, she firmly grabbed the technicians free hand and held it to her vulva thrusting her hips in the unmistakable throes of orgasm. Her face and torso were so red they could have stopped rush hour traffic on the freeway. My technician firmly pinched the glans as she withdrew the syringe, trapping the sickly green colored substance securely inside. My prostrate protested vehemently for several seconds, attempting to expel the invaders with rhythmic contractions. The technicians kept the injection sites effectively blocked for several minutes before slowly releasing their pressure. Surprisingly, very little liquid escaped while we were gently massaged and wiped clean. With cool efficiency, they gathered the waste into a small hazardous waste plastic bag. Grabbing their bags, they waved and left after placing an information sheet and business card on the coffee table. A few minutes passed before the previous events settled amidst the scent of Viv's arousal. My balls felt too big and it felt like tiny needles were indiscriminately pricking my internal plumbing. Viv appeared exhausted, her legs splayed wide open as the redness in her upper torso gradually dissipated. Gingerly I eased myself up and shuffled over to the coffee table to study the information sheet. It advised us not to pee for half an hour, and the Institute would call in a week to ten days to ask a few questions and discuss any issues. The business card had a small green and red emblem with an 800-number printed on cheap white index paper. The entire evolution was like the business card: quick, efficient, and simple. We'd soon find out if my suspicions were justified. "Was it good for you," I asked as Vivian pulled her legs down into a more feminine pose and adjusted her clothes. "Hmmm yeah," she murmured, "Feel anything, yet?" "Don't know quite what to feel, Honey. I think a trip over to the Local Ice Cream parlor may be in order." "Let me change," she replied enthusiastically. As she struggled to her feet, now void of bunny slippers, her unsteadiness prompted me to wrap my arm around her. She swiveled on to my leg and with a couple of forcible thrusts of her hips, bathed my naked thing with her orgasmic essence. Her body trembled for several minutes as her euphoria waned and her essence pooled around my foot. "Damn, I'm officially impressed," I exclaimed as her eyes fluttered open signally her return to reality. "You have no idea. . .," she whispered, obviously embarrassed, as she turned for the bedroom. Pulling on my pants sans underwear, I reflected that my aging wife had never been so aroused, even during our all night marathons of years past. Briefly I pondered the serums longevity, by quickly dispelled my doubts in favor of a wait and see posture. A quick trip to the head to comb my thinning hair and wipe my leg and we were off, hand in hand. En route I queried about her treatment. "They asked and the price was right," she quipped enthusiastically, and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek. "Wise choice," I returned as we strolled towards the parlor with the cheesy grins of young lovers in lust. We splurged on Neapolitan banana splits and waited in wrought iron, stick in the butt chairs near the window. The world seemed so far away, as we held hands and watched the younger generation hurriedly roaming the streets. The ice cream wasn't really all that hard and the excess of toppings were guaranteed to keep us on a sugar rush for a week, but the bananas were good. As I took my second bite, I was startled by the age old, pulse pounding, sensation emanating from my groin. A quick nonchalant glance revealed tenting trousers. I dropped my spoon in stunned silence – my dormant delivery system, had spontaneously and miraculously arisen. No explanation was necessary as Vivian's foot slid up my leg and she wrapped her toes seductively around the throbbing shaft. Her neck began to reddened and her eyes doubled in size at her discovery. Excusing myself with a nod, I grabbed the flimsy menu in a sloppy attempt to hide my modesty and headed to the small restroom, thoughtfully equipped with a handicapped stall. The spring loaded door slammed shut, as I dropped my trouser to witness the glorious throbbing revival of my masculinity long ago left for dead. My hand automatically closed around the smooth hard shaft, no longer limp and unresponsive. My glans was shiny and bulging with anticipation, and my balls slid into their standby position. I was overjoyed. The door suddenly slammed into my back and there stood wild eyed Vivian licking her lips. Before I could lodge a protest, she spun me around and pushed me onto the head (fortunately, the seat was down). She straddled my legs and plopped onto my lap, fumbling to pull aside her underwear and position my organ at the mouth of her slick engorged entrance. As she slowly slid down my length, she uttered a low fulfilling moan, and I experienced the tightest, warmest, silkiest intimate embrace I could ever remember. I was alive with delicious sensation, as she positioned herself to completely engulf me and satisfy herself. Our lips locked passionately. She ground her hips in a circular motion and threw her head back while emitting lust filled whimpers. My engorged glans probed the delicious feminine folds as they caressed my invader ardently. Suddenly her whole body tightened and with a high pitched squeak, her body quivered uncontrollable like a high rise in an earthquake. She tightened around me with painful force; my organ bulging obscenely in her warm wanton depths. With raspy jagged breaths, she resumed her assault, and I took the liberty to engulf her pendulous breast as they jiggled in my face. Her nipples were hard enough to cut diamonds. A few seconds later, she erupted again, bathing my lap in her silky essence. Again she trembled uncontrollably, and I became lost in her bodies' beautiful response. Now gasping for breath, she began her pelvic thrusts once again with wild abandon. I lost control, trying to halt the inevitable on rush of essence my balls were releasing. She squeaked again and I let go of the moment, bellowing like a castrated bull as years of pent up passion erupted into her warm silky core. She screamed and embraced me as if entrenched in a life or death struggle as my life giving reservoir burst and flooded her intimate depths beyond capacity. Our collective eruptions bathed our torsos, filling the air with our unique sex scent. I immediately experienced a cramp in my back and eased her off me with an agonizing shove. She collapsed on the floor in a fetal position, trembling and muttering incoherently, as I leaned back to relax the tormented muscles, cursing silently for my lack of conditioning. My delivery system softened slightly, but I knew it could rise again if given the opportunity. The pain eased mercifully, and I reached down and stroked Vivian's matted hair when the owner of the parlor burst in and yelled "What's going on in here," with a deep baritone voice. In a panic I desperately searched for a response. "Think I passed a kidney stone," I responded, burying my head in my hands as soon as I heard my response. The door swung open, and with a quick appraisal he shook his head, confirming any doubts that my response was ill concieved. "You might want to consider passing stones in a more appropriate establishment in the future," he offered with slight smile. "I'll get one of the boys clean up in here when you leave." "Thanks. . .here," I handed him a five stuffed in my shirt pocket, "A tip for the trouble." He pocketed the bill and gave a dismissal nod. Gently I eased Viv into a sitting position as her body still quaked with mini spasms. "We gotta go, Babe." She smiled gratefully at me and gently stroked my hand lovingly. "That's the first time you called me 'babe' since our honeymoon," she murmured gratefully. "I'm sorry," I offered as I gently pulled her to her feet and helped to arrange her attire. "I'll always be your babe Jack." I patted her on her rump, a gesture of affection we had employed most of our mature lives and guided her into the parlor. Our order had been replaced with a fresh albeit covered replacement and the owner gave us a two fingered scout salute as we hurried through the glass door. "That was awkward'" Vivian offered as we neared our condo. I stopped and gave her a hug. We finished our walk and I threw the partially thawed splits into the freezer. When I entered the bedroom, Vivian was sleeping soundly, with her clothes strewn about her. The delicious sensations of the shower swirled through my memories as the warm water soothed my sore muscles. Making a mental commitment to commence a thorough exercise program, I slipped on a pair of clean sweats and flipped on the brainless box. A cool Bud joined me as the weather man tried to draw a convincing picture of what may come tomorrow. I realized a new chapter in my life with Viv had begun and I vowed to enjoy every moment. As dusk settled, I prepared soup and sandwiches and placed the loaded serving tray gingerly next to my Viv. She stirred and with a grateful smile, dove into the fixin's. About half way through, she dropped her sandwich onto the tray and gazed at me lovingly. "How do you feel, Jack?" "Whole, and you?" "Empty, get over her and give me some sugar!" I dropped my sandwich and gave her a passionate lip lock. Her hands went into action immediately, probing those secret places that always gave me rise. I pulled her clothes aside and buried my head between those two delicious orbs that had fed our offspring and provided countless hours of entertainment throughout our lifetimes together. Her hands slipped to my engorged genitals, and explored the unique characteristics lovingly before rolling me forcefully on my back and positioning herself over the throbbing shaft. With a swift downward thrust, I was buried balls deep in her delicious core, savoring the delicious coital cock tugs as she rode me like a possessed succubus. The normally silent bedroom atmosphere was soon punctuated with our mutual chorus of renewed passion and fulfillment. I don't know how many times we surrendered our collective essence. I only know that at some point, with our bodies and libidos exhausted, we fell into a fit full sleep, wrapped in cum soaked covers. The morning dawn came way to soon. My body ached, my head throbbed unrelentingly, and when I withdrew the tented sheets, my rock hard, nail driving woody sprang into view in all its glory. I groaned and stared at the ceiling, painfully aware the spirit was willing, but its life support system was marginal, at best. A dull groan from the other side of the bed announced Vivian had drawn a similar conclusion. I rolled on my side to embrace her, my delivery system probing her fleshy bottom mindlessly until it slipped into her soft, slightly moist folds. "What's that," she murmured dreamily. "It's a one-eyed space alien in search of the origin of life," I quipped marveling at my spontaneous ability to fabricate an explanation. Her fingers guided my glans into her sweet spot as she murmured: "Let's give it the deluxe tour." Like a vintage machine, creaking and grunting to life after a decade of inactivity, my hips slowly forced my glans past the tight entrance into the warm depths, gradually increasing their strokes as her arousal triggered an influx of lubricating moisture. She grunted with each thrust; the sound of a contented kitten makes when you stroke it's chin on your lap. Before I reached my optimal thrust cycle, she froze and clamped down on the alien invader forcefully, bathing my delivery system with sweet smelling perfume. Her poor tortured body quivered weakly, and she released a long mournful moan of contentment. A New Lease on Life Walking into that party was a big surprise for Peter. Hey, he was just there to sign his lease. So it was a kick to walk in and find a bunch of people, with free food and drink. There was his new landlord and some of the people who lived in the building, plus a few who were looking for apartments. Not a wild party exactly, but high-energy socializing, you might call it. In his high mood, he took in all the people, and a woman with a black blouse and tight black jeans took his breath away. She had poise, a quick smile and teasing voice, and there was something about the way she moved that was both nonchalant and sensuous. Peter followed her with his eyes for a moment and then recovered himself and moved on to the food table. He caught up with the landlord, and found him ready to take Peter over to a corner table to do a little business. This was the most fun Peter had ever had signing a lease. Then that woman in black started flirting with the landlord. Somehow it turned Peter on to watch. She had loose dark hair, a ready laugh, hips that swivelled right into the landlord's lap, and then she kissed him. All in good fun, Peter figured, because at 70, the landlord seemed harmless. Or maybe, with his wiry strength and twinkle in the eye, he really attracted her? Whatever it was, Peter couldn't take his eyes off her for very long. She was about 30, and Peter 22. She was to him the experienced, older woman. And when she came his way, he found her very easy to talk to. She was physical, too. He liked the way she knocked into him teasingly, grabbed hold of his shoulder and slid her hand down his arm as she laughed at a joke he made about the landlord. They were chatting together as they moved down the hall toward another apartment in the building, where there was more partying, and he found it easy to wrap his arm around her. She leaned right into him as they talked about how great it was to be near the ocean. She was hoping to find an apartment here, but there wasn't one that worked for her. Suddenly Peter leaned into her and kissed her, and she gave back as good as she got, with a passion of tongues and a warm embrace right in the hallway. They broke apart and headed into the apartment of a young soldier and his wife, for more chat and a beer. After a while, Peter, who was busy talking to the soldier's wife, noticed that the woman he'd had his eye on got up to leave. "Good luck with your new place," she said to Peter, "I better get home. Bye everyone!" Peter had a gnawing, sinking feeling that if he let her go, he'd never see her again. He felt a little embarrassed about getting up to leave just because she was. Peter was pretty wary of what people thought of him, and these people were going to be his new neighbors for some time to come, while the woman in black was, well, a new and unknown friend. But when she left, the gnawing feeling grew in him. He made himself get up, say his goodbyes, and once he was out in the hallway, he looked desperately to see if she was still there. He spotted her at the end of the hall, about to go down the stairs. When she saw him, she stopped and waited. "I was hoping you'd come," she said in a low voice. "I almost didn't get out of there, but I just couldn't let you go," he said, and as he reached for her, she reached for him, and they picked up where they'd left off, with a hot kiss. They both felt his crotch, tight against her leg, expand with longing. They walked outside hand in hand, and he pointed out to her where his new apartment was. As they walked through the parking area, they could see his new back door and deck. "Maybe you could get the place next door," said Peter. "See? They share the deck." "Mmm. Not available. I checked," she said. Peter was elated that the apartment was going to be his, starting next week, and even more elated that this unexpected woman was now arm in arm with him, their sides in warm contact from arm to thigh. "Let's check out the view from the balcony," he said. "Sure," she said, and they walked up the old wooden stairway. They looked over the cars and garages and beyond the busy road to see the white caps of the sea rolling in. They peered in through picture window to see his future bedroom. For some reason, Peter tried the door. It was unlocked. His heart leaped. He had not dreamed of this. They walked into his new place, through the bedroom, and before they could get more than one step into the living room, they locked each other in the most passionate kiss and hug. Peter was not the kind of guy to study techniques of foreplay, seduction or arousal. He had a mix of naivety, honesty, emotional heat, and pure physicality that seemed to overwhelm his partners with the feeling of being wanted. They buried their mouths in multiple kisses and licks and slippery tongues while his hand slipped under her blouse and traced the shape of her breast and the hard nipple, and his other hand pulled her ass tight to him and curved around her hip to find a delicious gap of skin that let his hand into her pants. Her hands slid up and down his back but finally found the pole under his jeans, held it tight, and rubbed it up and down. Suddenly, he broke off the kisses to ask, "Do you have protection?" "Yes," she lied. And his heart leaped again as they stripped off their clothes in record time and fell onto the bed, with mouths, arms, hands, and legs intertwined. She was incredibly wet, and he was incredibly primed. He entered her fast and full. His cock was as hard as steel with an outer soft cushion like a mushroom. They had no time to think. The pace was furious, and he came with multiple explosions. Peter was happy inside her and couldn't stop pumping, especially with his huge load of cum smoothing the way. He kept fucking her and she bucked in time with his thrusts. Their hands traveled sensuous routes, taking in every inch of every curve of smooth skin they could find. He was sliding his hands up and down her sweaty smooth body, stopping to feel her full breasts, which turned him on even more. He was kneading one hard nipple when he realized that he was going to be cumming again pretty soon. His pace picked up and he abandoned himself to her arms and her pussy. He latched onto her mouth and they fucked face to face as he unloaded more cum in powerful bursts. This time they slowed down, but he stayed inside her. Something about this unexpected love wouldn't let his erection down. "I had a baby once," she was saying. "I had to give her up for adoption." "What happened to her?" he whispered. "Huh. I think she's with some Mormons in Utah. I wish I could see her." Their pace had slowed but they were still slipping and sliding, with now two loads of cum to ease the way for his still-hard cock. Peter felt himself heading for another orgasm. Maybe it's unusual to have a third orgasm without losing his erection, but Peter didn't know that. He just felt the way he felt, and he went for it. Again their pace picked up, and now their sweaty bodies slid sensuously over each other. Everything felt slippery, hot, delicious, lusty, and she locked her legs around his back as he drove into her, exploding tremblingly for the third time. "I've never felt a cock stay so hard for so long," she said to him as she slid her hand down his back to his butt and around his hips to feel where they joined. She eased him out of her, finally, and kissed his neck, his nipples, down his belly. She took hold of his cock, which was soaking and dripping, but still hard, and admired it. She took a closer look. She positioned herself to smell the aphrodisiac sweetness of sperm on him mixed with her own juices, and she bent her head to taste the liqueur. She took him in her mouth and swirled her tongue round the head of his penis. She pumped slowly down halfway and back up. He felt himself in the hands of a master. He closed his eyes and abandoned himself to this mature and experienced woman of 30, as she did something he'd never felt before. She corkscrewed her tongue around his cock, lower and lower, and then back up. Soon he felt the urge coming again, and she could sense it, but she kept her pace steady, and it drove him increasingly wild. She sucked on him, waiting for hot nourishment to come up the thick warm straw, and sure enough, he tightened and the cum rose up and spurted into her hungry wet mouth. She took his cum again in a way he'd never felt before. Between each spurt she flicked the tip of his penis with her tongue. It seemed to keep him cumming forever. She slowly smiled and backed off, swallowed luxuriously, slid her body up his, and looked into his blue eyes. When his fingers glided in and out of her dripping pussy and rounded on her erect clit, she came with bucking convulsions of her own. She was so intent on the warm spreading pulses of pleasure that she could not believe she was feeling him enter her again. But that was exactly what her pussy wanted more than anything, that fullness filling her up just as her convulsions of pleasure slowed. She wanted that pressure filling her to the hilt. But it dawned on her that this was crazy. He was still going, still hard, still wanting her, still fucking her, her pussy as wet as it was possible to be, and she was still wanting it. Their minds were blown, they were in some other fucking world, and for one final time he came with bursts of cum into her belly already full of him. And finally they quieted, holding each other. "Maybe I'll give this one to the Mormons, too," she murmured quietly. The comment almost passed over him in the darkening evening light. "What are you talking about?" he whispered. "You said you had protection." His mind whirled through a dazzling array of images and emotions, from anger that she'd lied, to bafflement that she'd have the baby, to wonder about what the baby would look like, to anger again that she might make him a father by deceit. But then he couldn't believe he'd heard her right. He let it be, and she didn't answer him. They got dressed, exhausted, happy, stilled. Suddenly, Peter heard a noise through the wall. A woman's voice. A man's voice. The walls, he discovered, were paper thin. If he wasn't feeling so serene, he might have mistaken his sudden jumble of thoughts for panic. His fear was basically that he had just broken into an apartment that wasn't his for another week. The neighbors didn't expect anyone; they might even call the police. He decided to introduce himself. They went out the front door into the small hallway by the stairs, and he knocked on the neighbor's door. A woman answered. She had black hair, dark and beautiful eyes, breasts straining at her thin blouse, and a low-riding, clingy skirt. Peter was leaning casually against the door frame, feeling very relaxed but also nervous about his new neighbor. Very fast, he blurted, "Hi, my name's Peter. I'm going to be moving in, this is my friend, and we just happened to find the back door open and just checked out the apartment. I hope we didn't scare you or make too much noise." "Hi, I'm Linda," she said in a low voice. "Nice to meet you." A man appeared behind her, scowling. "And this is Gerhard, my boyfriend." Gerhard muttered something at her. She looked into Peter's blue eyes, glanced at his lips, his chest, and eyed his bulging crotch before smiling into his eyes again. "I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other," she said quietly. "Bye-bye." She closed the door gently. Peter found himself picturing her tight blouse and the bare skin of her belly; he must have been staring. It was awkward now in the hallway. Peter turned. The woman took a deep breath. "Hey, that was something. But... Hey, I gotta go. No big goodbyes." She kissed him and he patted her one last time on her ass as she headed down the front stairs. Peter sat at the top of the stairs. He suddenly realized he never asked her name, didn't know her phone number, or where she lived. She knew where he lived, but would she come back? A New Lease on Life "I'm not fucking going into one of those places. You can stick your retirement village right up your fucking arse, I've lived in this house for the last fifty years and there's no way that I'm leaving it now. I don't give a flying fuck what you say, I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself." I was angry, angrier than I could ever imagine being, so angry that I was using language that I'd never used before in my life. But what Warren, my son, was suggesting was the cause of my outburst. "But Dad, look at you, you haven't shaved in weeks and when was the last time that you washed the dishes, and look at the place it's in a hell of a mess. You are not able to look after yourself, and I insist that you will be better off in a home where you can be looked after properly." "You insist. Who are you to insist? Since when have you had my interests at heart? Look, I haven't shaved because I don't want to. Ever since the sixties when you mother asked me to shave off my beard I've wanted to grow it again, but I knew she didn't like it, so I've held off. Now that she's no longer around, I've decided that it's time that I did what I wanted to do for a change, and if that means growing a beard, then I'll grow one. I think that it balances out the fact that there's no thatch on the roof, I'm completely bald on top. As for the dishes, I haven't washed them because I wait until I have the dishwasher full before I turn it on. Do you realise just how long it takes to fill it up when you only use one plate and one cup for each meal?" "But Dad, look at you, do you know how to use an iron?" "Yes, but why would I need to iron this shirt, I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not trying to impress anyone, I have no-one to impress. It's too late in the day for me to start a new relationship, and I don't think that I'll find anyone as good as your mother, no matter how hard I try." "But in a village you'll be with people your own age." "I don't want to be with old farts my age, have you seen them, they look terrible shuffling around with their Zimmer frames like a mob of old zombies. I'm still fit, I ride my bike every day, I walk the dogs twice a day, I'm not overweight, I feel great, my joints all work well, I don't have any of the illnesses of old age, like dementia. I read lots of books, I do crosswords, I write stories, my brain functions as it should. I want to stay here in this house, my house, the house that I built for your mother, the house that we lived in all our married life, and you want to take that away from me, why?" "I just think that it's the right time to make this move." "Well I don't want to go, and that's my final decision, and I would ask that you respect that decision." "Just think about it, that's all that I'm asking, just think about it." Like hell, I thought to myself, that's not all, he wants me out of this house and into one of those villages for a reason. "I'll think about it, but I'm not going to be rushed into making a decision that's going to affect the rest of my life, okay?" He mumbled his way out of my house and to his flash new car. This was the first time he'd been to see me since Connie's funeral. For the three months before her death he was a constant visitor, he couldn't do enough for her, couldn't lavish enough attention on her, obviously hoping to impress on her what a great son he was, and what a wonderful wife he had, and weren't her grand-children simply wonderful? It was sickening, but that all stopped after she died, and then when her Will passed through probate and he found that she had left her half of the house and everything else to me, he hasn't come near me. That was a week ago, and he has now changed tack and is trying to convince me that I should move into a retirement village and sell the house. I would not be surprised if he hasn't already had a valuation done to work out how much he stood to gain from the sale, and my subsequent removal. The way that I felt at the moment he stood to get fuck all. I bought the block of land the day after Connie and I announced our engagement. She was with me when I selected it from the others that we had looked at and had seen the plans for the house that I would literally build on it. Connie and I had been boyfriend/girlfriend ever since Primary School. Our families lived next door to each other, and we saw each other every day. We helped each other with our school work and graduated Primary School at the top of our class. High School was much the same except for the competition for our affections. It was an academic High School where each student had to pass an entrance examination, so the level of intelligence and scholastic ability was above average. With more students with similar ambitions and interests, came more students interested in each of us on a more than scholastic level. Several boys tried to attract Connie's attention, but these were politely rebuffed until they gave up. The same with me, the girls were forever telling me how smart I was, how good at sport I was, and how handsome I was. I explained to each of them that I was Connie's boyfriend and that she and I were going to get married when the time was right, and that time would be after we both graduated University. My father was a Builder so I grew up with houses and house construction, so it followed that I should study Architecture. Connie studied Medicine with the view to becoming a Paediatrician. Our personal and academic lives made it impossible for us to have anything more than a rudimentary social life, and this was centred on the Church Youth Group. There were social events that we attended, to take a brief break from our studies, there were religious programmes that we participated in, but chose not to lead, as this would take up too much of our valuable time. Outside of University and Church our lives were our own, we spent much of our time with each other, either at her house or mine, and nothing was said when we decided to sleep over at either one or the other home. Nothing was said when we became lovers, apart from her mother sitting her down and having a long discussion about the propriety of her and I having sex before we married, and my father and I having a similar discussion from the male perspective. The outcome of these discussions was that we took the necessary precautions to ensure against an accidental pregnancy. The design for our house was a part of my final year assessment. We each had to design a commercial and a domestic building and produce scale models of each. My commercial development consisted of a shopping precinct centred on an open space that could be used for casual and formal gatherings, and that included such new, for their time, things as cafes and ice-cream parlours. Most towns' shopping precincts centred on a main street with each shop having a street façade, and this, I argued, was inefficient in that to get from one shop to another could involve walking the full length of the street, while my development proposal meant nothing further than a stroll across a pleasant central open space. My domestic building had been developing in my mind for many years and was the culmination of information garnered from my father and his contractors about the best practice for a comfortable house. In Australia, with its sometimes harsh and changeable climate, the main consideration was to moderate that for the comfort of the occupants. This, to me, could best be achieved by having a thick outer wall with a void between it and an inner wall. If the void was well ventilated, any heat that would penetrate, a prolonged heat wave would be necessary, would rise in the void and be vented into the outside air. Surrounding this would be a veranda, sufficiently wide to provide shade in the hot months, and allow a certain level of sunlight in the winter months. By doing this, the cost of heating and cooling the home would be significantly reduced, and the cost savings over the life of the structure would more than defray the energy costs of providing heating and cooling. As it turned out I was way ahead of my time in modern thinking by copying the design and construction that was common in my grand-father's time. "How did it go?" Dad asked over dinner the evening following my assessment interview with the Professor. Connie was with me and she smiled, she knew already how it had gone. "I think it went well, at first he couldn't understand why I would settle for the more expensive construction method, but he changed his mind when I pointed out that it had been used successfully for decades in parts of the country where the climate ranged from hot dry summers to cold winters, and where the overnight temperatures often dropped below freezing. While heating costs were minimal in those country homes with an unlimited supply of firewood, such was not the case in suburbia and that the householder had to buy energy, an additional cost that would be more than the additional cost at the construction phase." "Tell him about your shopping precinct." Connie said, her voice tinged with pride. "Yes, that. He was at first sceptical with that one, but then he remembered seeing a similar shopping centre in the US that was based around a pedestrian mall, although this one was a covered mall, he saw the benefits of having an open space mall. I have been led to be believe that I will pass with a Distinction." "I'm so proud of my man, aren't you?" Connie said as she leaned over and kissed me. "Yes we are. Now what are you going to do about it?" Dad asked. "I have a couple of firms sniffing around, and I need some advice from you as to which one is the best, you've worked with them." "I know, I have been approached by two firms sounding me out as to what you're thinking of doing. They want to know if you're going to work in the commercial or domestic areas." "I haven't yet decided. While my preference would be towards domestic, I think that there's more money to be made with commercial. What do you think?" 'There's definitely more money in commercial, but a comfortable living can be made from the domestic." "So it comes down to need over greed. If I can be satisfied with having my needs met I should stick to domestic, but if I want more I should go for the commercial. I think you all know the answer to that." Another kiss from Connie confirmed that I had made the right decision. As it was I became involved in both. I chose the firm of Harvey & Partners, a company that employed Dad on a regular basis to build houses for their wealthier clients. My first job was to sit in on client discussions and develop the Chief Architect's concepts into complete plans and specifications. I worked with Structural Engineers on some newer designs that were sufficiently different to need new Spec's. While doing this I spent my lunch breaks refining the plans and Spec's for my own house. George Harvey looked over my shoulder as I finished the North Elevation of the house. "That's very good, is it for a client that I don't know about?" "No Sir, this is my house, the one that I'm going to build on the block that Connie and I have just bought." "Those outer walls, what are you using?" "They are field stone with brick quoins." "Why use that, aren't you concerned that the limestone will break down over time?" "No, with the verandas protecting them from most of the weather, and the use of Mason-seal as a further protection, they should last for centuries. I was at a winery in McLaren Vale a couple of years ago, and while I was talking to the Winemaker, I mentioned that the main house was in remarkably good condition considering that it was built over a hundred years ago. He told me that his Grand-father had built it, and that it was a field stone construction, and that the outer walls had been erected by a gang of farm labourers in one weekend. All that they had was a couple of guys that could lay bricks for the quoins, some forming boards and a lot of hard workers to mix the lime mortar slurry to pour over the stones that had been loaded into the forms. As soon as the slurry came into contact with the limestone the water was sucked from the slurry, meaning that the forms could be raised almost straight away. By working their way around the house, they found that, by the time they were back to where they started, it was safe to move the forms to the next level. The field stone was all collected from the property, it was all stone that had been dislodged during ploughing for the vineyards." "I like the design, if you want to redraw it using a different outer skin, say brick, I think that we can use it as one of our range. We'll pay you for it of course, and any other designs that you come up with. If you can keep this up you'll make partner in no time." "Thank you, I will. I have other designs that have been rattling around in my head for some time, and I can work them up for you to have a look at." "Good lad." He patted me on the shoulder and walked off. "This looks great." Dad was looking at my finished plans spread out on the dinner table. Dinner was over and Mum and Connie were just finishing washing the dishes. "Isn't he clever?" Connie said as she came back into the room. "Now all he has to do is build it." "I can help out a little. If you can get the timber sizes down on paper, I'll get my suppliers to cut it to size so that you don't have to do a lot of sawing. (This was before the power saw came into prominence.) They might even be able to do the housing joints in the floor and ceiling plates so that all you have to do is fit them together like a Mechano set." (Mechano was a construction set manufactured by Hornby in England and consisted of set length pieces with holes that could be joined by nuts and bolts to create a wide range of contraptions.) "I've already done that." I handed him a list of timber measurements. "What I will need a hand with is the setting out. That's a two man job and requires a Dumpy Level, which you have." "Okay, you submit your plan to Council and as soon as you get building approval I'll give you a hand to set out you datum points and levels." "Thanks Dad." He was looking at my list of timbers. "You've done well, even the hip and common rafters are here. I can't see anything that has been missed." "That's good because you'll probably be building something similar in the not too distant future. Harvey's have bought the plan to add to their range of houses. I suggested that you'd be the right builder for the job." Three months later Dad, Connie and I were working our way around our block setting out our house. Connie was holding the staff while I was setting up the frames for the string lines that set out the walls of the house. These had to be level because they became the most important datum points of reference for the house, all sizes and levels were measured from these points. The next day we dug out for the forms into which the concrete would be poured for the piers, again the levels were critical. The following weekend Connie surprised me by insisting on being the one to mix the concrete for these pads. The mixer worked for most of the day, she shovelled the sand, metal and cement into the mixer, added the water, and when it was mixed, held onto the barrow while I emptied the mix into it, before wheeling the barrow and poured the concrete into the forms, and trowelled it level. It was late in the afternoon when we finished, the mixer was cleaned out, and we sat on a pile of bricks having a drink before heading home. "We make a good team, don't we?" She said as she kissed me. "Did you ever doubt it?" I returned the kiss. "I can't believe my luck in finding a woman who's not only the most beautiful that I've ever met, but one that would get her hands dirty helping me to build a house." "It's not just 'a' house, it's our house, and I'm as much a part of building this as you are." "I don't want you to risk damaging your hands, after all they're very important to your future work." She still had some years to go before she was fully qualified. "You, my love, are more important to me than my job." "No, you are going to have a very important job as a Paediatrician, many young lives will depend on you and it would be selfish of me to allow you to jeopardise that. I'd rather pay someone than have you take that risk." I knew from the wicked expression on her face what she was about to say. "So you don't want me to be here with you, helping you, is that it?" I took her face in my hands and held it close to mine. "That's not what I said and you know it. I would love to have you here with me all the time, but we have to place you and your future before my desires." "So you desire me." She kissed me with such passion that my cock was tenting the front of my shorts. Her hand snaked up the leg of my shorts and grabbed it through my underpants. "Yes, you do desire me." Her hand went through the 'Y' font of my underpants and held him tightly. "We are going to have to do something about this." She was doing something about it alright, her hand was stroking it and it was getting harder and harder. "We can't do it here, someone will see us." "We're out in the middle of a paddock and I can't see anyone around to see us. I want you, now." She dropped her shorts and straddled me, feeding my cock into her moist pussy. "Now isn't that better?" "No, it's not better at all, it's perfect." I was pushing him deep into her, his pussy cream slicked length sliding easily into her, for a couple brought up in such a religious environment as we were, this was outrageous behaviour. We moved slowly to a climax before she dismounted and hiked her shorts up. "Aren't you going to clean up a little?" I asked. "No, I'm going to walk into your place proud of the fact that you and I have made love." "I have a better idea." We had reached my car and she had slid into the passenger's seat. I pulled her legs around and undid her shorts, pulling her panties aside, I licked my come from her, making sure that I got the strings that had run down her legs as she walked to the car. By the time that I'd finished she was squirming and begging for me to make love to her again. My cock was not yet ready for another round so I brought her to another climax with my tongue. "What would the Pastor think if he saw us doing this?" Connie asked me as she pulled her shorts up. "I really don't care what he thinks, we're an engaged couple, we're going to get married, I don't see how the rules that he preaches about apply to us. If you read the Bible and understand why those rules were put in place you'll realise that they do not apply to the modern world." "I know that, but he's such a stickler for what he believes is right and wrong that, if he found out that we have been making love before marriage, he may decide that he won't let us marry in our church." "That's his decision, if he finds out and won't marry us then we'll just have to find another church." I had started my car and we were driving back home. She snuggled next to me with her head on my shoulder and her hand on my thigh, on my cock. "Mmm, that feels good." I said, roughly translated that meant; 'my god, I'm the luckiest man alive to have my Connie right here, next to me, she's the most amazing girl in the World.' "How'd it go?" Dad asked as I pulled into the driveway. "Great, Connie's the best labourer. We've got all the footings down for the piers ready for the Brickies next weekend. We will need a hand setting out and pouring the foundations for the external wall." "I'll have a chat to George (the concreter that worked for him) and see if he'll lend you a couple of men." "Thanks Dad. We'd better go and clean up for dinner." "I think you should have a shower, just to make sure that you get it all off." The look he gave us was telling us that he knew that we had a slight distraction before we came home. A New Lease on Life Connie used the shower first and, while I scrubbed myself, she got dressed and went into the kitchen to help Mum with dinner. "Did you get everything done that you wanted to today?" Mum asked. "Yes, we make a good team, we work really well together." "In more ways than one I think. How soon before you two decide when we're having a wedding?" "We want to have the house finished so that we can move straight into our own home and not have to rent for a while." "You could always live here while it's being built, let's face it you practically live here now." "Thanks for the offer, but we've discussed it and this is what we want to do." "What do you want to do?" Dad asked as he came in from the garage. "I told them that, if they wanted to get married soon that they can live here with us while they finish their house." "Sounds good to me." Dad replied. "But we're determined to have our house finished before we get married." "What are we talking about?" I asked as I came into the kitchen. "Mum and Dad want us to get married soon, and have offered to let us live here with them while we build." Connie had been calling them 'Mum' and 'Dad' for some time. "While I like the sound of the first part, if we do that there won't be the strong motivation to finish. That we have our own place before we marry is a realisation of our dreams." "I'll tell you what I'll do." Dad said. "Seeing as how I'm getting more work from Harvey's, and that's largely due to you and your plans, I'll work out how much profit I stand to make, and provide labour and expertise to the value of that profit, just so that you can finish it sooner. It's not that I don't want you two living here, it's that I know that you two want to get married sooner rather than later." "I don't want you to lose out on this. Look, I'm working on a commercial development for Harvey's that's close to what I designed for my assessment, I'll have a chat to the developer and see if there's any opportunity for you to get a contract on the project." Construction time on our house decreased significantly following Dad gaining the contract to build the shopping complex. Because he had to commit large blocks of time to the project, any slow periods between phases saw his sub-contractors working on our house. Six months after we'd started, and well within the twelve that I'd planned on, we were ready to move in. The furnishings were a combination of friend and family donations and stuff that we'd acquired from second hand shops. It was all good, strong stuff, especially the bed, we figured on giving that a pounding, not particularly fashionable, but it would do until we could afford to buy new. The Pastor either decided that we were innocent of any sexual indiscretions or, that he'd overlook them, because he had no hesitation in officiating at our wedding. Connie looked absolutely fabulous as she walked down the aisle on her father's arm. He beamed at me as he handed her to me, and she positively beamed as she came to stand beside me. My sister Peggie was Connie's Bridesmaid and my best man was Jonathon, a friend from Uni. The service went off without a hitch and we ran the gauntlet of rice and confetti on our way to the car that would take us to the reception. I had decided to confound our friends who were hell-bent on doctoring my car in the usual way, by leaving it unlocked outside the reception venue. I reasoned that if there was no effort involved in finding the car and doing the usual things to it, they'd leave it alone. I was right, it remained untouched. After a short honeymoon up the coast, we returned home, to our own home, the house that we had built, with a little help, a lot actually, and that was to become the only house that we would ever live in, and that we would raise our family. Connie finished her Paediatrics qualifications and found work at our local hospital. She was there for three years before having to give it up because Warren was well on his way. He was followed in quick succession by Trudi and Jenny. We called a halt at three and Connie had her tubes tied to prevent any further additions. It was a happy family life for us, we were comfortably well of financially and Connie and I made sure that we spent as much time with the kids as we could. Holidays were family holidays right up to the time that they each married and moved on with their own lives. Trudy became a Teacher and moved to wherever she was sent, her first posting was a High School in a rural city where she met Bryan, a fellow teacher and they married a year later. Jenny had decided that she wasn't cut out to be a Teacher, so she became a Landscape Architect and found work with the State Government in its Environmental Planning Department. She married an MP and became active in politics, supporting his efforts to convince the Government that reforms were necessary. Warren studied Accountancy and from early on in his career he questioned why I hadn't started my own Architecture business. He argued that I could have made a lot more money than I had working for Harvey's for all of those years. I couldn't convince him that his Mother and I were content with having our modest needs met, and that we had no great desire to work ourselves into an early grave, just make more money. What I didn't tell him was that, despite the fact that my name wasn't on the business name, as a Partner in the firm I was quite well paid. Fifty years on and Connie became ill. At first we didn't know what it was, but tests were to reveal that her constant headaches were due to a small but rapidly growing tumour on her brain. Her Doctors took scan after scan to monitor its progress and, due to its location, came to the conclusion that to operate would leave her in a vegetative state on life support. We talked it over and came to the decision that we would let nature take its course, resorting to palliative intervention when the pain became unbearable. It was a short illness, no longer than four months, and that was when Warren had decided that he would lavish his love and attention on his dying mother. "I don't know how to tell Warren that he's making a fool of himself coming here all the time, I can't tell him that I don't want him here, but I don't, at least not as often as he's been dropping in." "He's an Accountant, he'll get over it." I said to her, the bitterness in my voice echoing hers. "No. Look it won't be long now and I don't want to go leaving any animosity in the family. By the way, Trudi and the kids will call in on Saturday, she's in town for a conference and has brought Ben and Amanda with her." "That's fine, maybe we can go out somewhere. Where would you like to go?" "Both kids are into Art so I thought a visit to the Art Gallery would be good." "Art Gallery it is." "How is she getting on?" Trudi asked as Connie walked ahead of us with the kids looking at the paintings on the walls. "She's hanging in there, but it may not be long before the pain gets too much for her. She's been having these dizzy spells and the Doctors have said that this is due to the pressure on that part of her brain." "And nothing can be done?" "They're doing everything that they can, but no. She's already decided that she's prepared to let it take its course, she tells me that she's just thankful that we've had the good life that we have, and that she couldn't wish for a better life." "Yeah, I look at the two of you and think to myself that I've never seen anyone so in love for so long as the two of you. I remember Grandma telling me that they had to chuck a bucket of water over the two of you at times to stop you from embarrassing them with the way that you were always kissing and cuddling each other, even in public." "They should talk, it was their fault, they could have told us that we shouldn't show our love for each other in public, and stopped us from making love every chance we could get, even before we were engaged, something frowned upon back then. I think they enjoyed seeing us so much in love." "I'll have a chat to Jenny when I get home, just to bring her up to date. Have you spoken to Warren lately, Jen and I sort of avoid him as much as we can, he insists on telling us that he could make us really wealthy if we'd let him. We don't want to be rich if we end up like him." "He's been dropping in on a regular basis, he has just about worn out his welcome, but we don't want to say anything to him about it." "Do you want me to say something to him?" "No, best that you keep right out of this." Connie and I had discussed the matter of her Will, and that was when she decided that her share of the house would revert to me, and that when I died I should insist that the house be sold and that the money be split between them, forty percent going to each of the girls and the remaining twenty percent to Warren. Neither of the girls were interested in the house, they had their own very nice houses, but the money would help with little things like kids education, future wedding cost, they both had daughters, and the odd holiday. It was almost a relief when she left me. She did it quietly, she hadn't wanted to go to hospital to die so we carried on at home as if there was nothing wrong. I kissed her good-night and she returned my kiss. "Good-night my Darling." I whispered to her. She returned my kiss but said nothing. There was nothing unusual with that. I woke the next morning and turned to her, kissing her lips. There was no response and her body was cold, she had passed away during the night. I rang her Doctor and broke the news before making myself a cup of coffee and ringing, first Trudi. "Hi Darling, it's Dad." "She's gone, hasn't she?" "Yes, she went quietly in her sleep." "I'm sorry Dad, I'll take time off from work and come down and stay with you." "That would be nice, and bring Bryan and the kids, you can stay here." "Are you sure? I don't want to be a nuisance." "No, I insist that you stay here, there's plenty of room for all of you. I've got to go, I need to catch Jenny before she goes to work." My next call just caught Jenny just as she reached her front door. "Hi Jen, Darling, it's Dad. I'm just ringing to tell you that your Mother passed away during the night. I've spoken to Trudi and she and her family are coming down, I'd appreciate it . . ." "Don't say any more, I'm on my way, I'll call Tony and let him know, he can pick the kids up and bring them around. I'll see you soon." "Thanks Jen, and now I have to call Warren." "Good luck with that." From this you can gather that there's no love lost between Warren and the girls. I got Warren's wife Francine just as she was leaving. "Hi, it's your Father-in-Law, I'm just calling to let you know that Connie passed away during the night, could you call Warren and let him know for me?" "I will when I have time, got to dash, 'bye." She was an Accountant too, and time was money to the both of them. I was relieved that Warren had already left for work. The funeral was not a happy occasion for me, and it wasn't just that I had lost the love of my life. It was a sombre occasion made even more so by the miserable weather, it was un-seasonably cold and wet, at least I got to wear that big black overcoat that Connie had bought me for our trip to England a couple of years ago. Trudi and Jenny both looked appropriately funereal in basic black understated dresses and hats, while their kids did the best they could, given that black isn't that trendy. Warren looked like an Undertaker in his attempt to be the grieving son, but his wife had obviously decided that, as her Mother-in-Law had given up making an effort to let her into the family, she wouldn't make any effort to look sad on this occasion. It was obvious that Warren and she had had words, they hardly spoke to each other during the funeral and afterwards, as we gathered around sipping coffee and munching on little snacks provided by the funeral Directors. I miss Connie very much. I have never loved another woman, never made love to another woman. Our bed, rather than giving me comfort, made my loss even sadder. Trudi and Jenny stayed with me for as long as they could, but eventually they had to leave me, after extracting from me a promise to keep my chin up, to attend to their own families. I drifted, moving through life on auto-pilot, and trying not to dwell on my loss. I tried to think only of the good times that Connie and I had experienced over the years, but that opened up the void even more. The girls rang at least once a week, just to check on me, I told them that I was growing a beard, not because I couldn't be bothered shaving, but because I had one years ago and had shaved it off because Connie had complained about getting a beard rash. I didn't tell them that it wasn't only around her mouth that she had the rash, I thought that might have been too much information. After Warren's visit I was feeling even worse so I decided that I needed to get out of the house for a while. I went shopping, not for anything frivolous, I needed to eat, so off to the supermarket. I was just entering the Mall, the one I'd designed all those years ago, it was still my local shopping centre, when she banged into me. She had been coming out of the mall with her bag of groceries when this young kid on a skateboard slammed into her, knocking her off her feet and into me. "I'm sorry." She said as she scrambled to her feet to allow me to get back onto mine. "It's not your fault, there are signs all over the place banning the riding of skateboards among other things, but obviously he can't read. Are you okay?" "I'm okay, nothing a trip to hospital won't fix," Whether she was making light of her injuries to cover for the fact that she had been frightened by being knocked over, or she wasn't hurt, I couldn't work out until I saw the smile on her face. "My biggest problem is that I have to replace some of my groceries like eggs and anything in jars, they all got smashed, and I don't have money until my Pension goes into my bank account on Wednesday." (Pensions and income assistance from the government is paid directly into bank accounts her in Australia, and not by cheque.) "Don't worry about that, I'll replace them for you." "I can't let you do that, why I don't even know you." "I'm Leslie Faulkner, Les to my friends, and I'm glad that I bumped into you just now." "Emily, Emily Langley. Leslie. . . " "Les, please." "Les, you don't have to do this for me, I have stuff in the freezer I can have, I don't need you to replace this." She pointed to the mess oozing from her environmentally friendly re-usable supermarket bag, which you have to pay for by the way. "I insist, come, you can help me." She followed me into the supermarket and I grabbed a trolley and headed for the deli section. I bought a handful of Marinara mix for a home-made seafood pizza. From the fresh milk section I bought some supermarket brand milk, only because it was cheap. We moved around through the meat department (chicken pieces), fruit and veg, (apples, pears, bananas, potatoes, pumpkin, sweet potatoes, onions, green peppers, you know the stuff). From there it was the bread section for fresh bread and on to the cereal section for muesli and then the grocery section, finishing off in the pet food section where I got my monthly supply of dried dog food to go with the stuff I cook up and freeze for them. On the way around I replaced her eggs and the jars of tomato paste and honey. "I have to find some way to repay you." Emily said as we walked out of the mall. "You could invite me to dinner one night." I said hopefully. "Don't you have a wife at home waiting for you?" She asked. "No, I seemed to have mis-placed her a couple of months ago, she ran off with a brain tumour." I was trying to make light of my grief, it was all a front of course. "I'm sorry to hear that." She headed for the taxi stand to wait for a cab to take her home. She could be a while, a couple of cabs cruised up and, on seeing a Pensioner with one shopping bag, kept going, they hate short trips, and she looked to be one of those. "Look, you could be waiting forever here, why don't you let me drop you home." "You've done more than enough for me already, I don't want to take up any more of your time. Thank you for the offer." "Time is something that I seem to have plenty of just now, so a couple of minutes aren't going to make a difference in the overall scheme of things." How wrong was this statement going to prove to be. Her reluctance was apparent as she opened the door to allow me to carry her bag inside. Her unit was tiny by my standards, the whole unit could fit inside my living room, it was what is described as a bed sitting room, and in this case the bed was a single. Against one wall was a small table and two chairs, the kitchen, if you could call it that, consisted of a two plate cook top, a small toaster oven, a small sink, all on the one cupboard, and a bar fridge. I used to own a caravan that was more luxuriously appointed than this, and bigger. Emily took off her jacket and threw it onto the bed. "It isn't much but it's all that I can afford." Her head drooped in embarrassment. "There's nothing to be ashamed of here. Look, why don't I take you to dinner tonight?" "I couldn't, I have nothing decent to wear." "Wear what you have on, it's perfectly adequate for the pub. I wouldn't know what to do in a posh restaurant, I'd probably use the wrong fork or something. Please, I could do with the company and it sure as hell beats what I'd planned to cook for dinner, baked beans on toast is about my limit." She raised her head and looked me in the eye, the beginnings of a smile edged its way from one side of her mouth to the other. Her eyes became alive and her attitude returned to what it was immediately after she'd been mown down by the skateboarder. "Okay, you'd better pick me up, I can't afford a cab." Roast of the day (lamb, nice enough) with vegies followed by fresh fruit and cream, washed down over the course of the meal with a very nice, but inexpensive, Cabernet Sauvignon and the meal was over. "That was nice, thank you very much." Emily smiled at me. She wasn't, as suggested, wearing the clothes she wore this morning, she had a grey skirt and matching jacket over a blue blouse, not new, possibly Op Shop specials, but clean and well ironed. The conversation, once the ice had been broken and she'd relaxed, was easy flowing and intelligent. Her present situation was as a result of the high cost of specialist medicine, her husband had a protracted illness that proved to be terminal. The cost of treatment was far higher than their Health Cover could cope with. She had to give up her rental accommodation for a cheaper retirement unit after her previous Landlord showed a typical lack of compassion. "Look, it's still early, why don't you come to my place for a coffee. No strings attached, just lonely old me wanting more of your company, I've enjoyed this evening so far and don't particularly want to end it so soon. What do you say?" "I think I can stand you for a little while longer, no funny business, do you promise?" "Cross my heart and hope to die, I promise." "This is a nice house." Emily said as I pulled into my driveway. "It's huge." "Yeah, I built it with a family in mind." "You built it?" "I also designed it. I was an Architect in a previous incarnation." I opened the door and ushered her into the living room. "Sit while I get the coffee started, how do you like yours?" "White." "Do you have sugar?" "That depends, if it's instant yes, if not I'll wait and see, usually no." I went into the kitchen and busied myself with the coffee machine, setting it to produce two cups of coffee while I put some nibbles on a tray. I frothed the milk and topped the cups up before walking back into the living room to find her looking at the stack of CD's in the entertainment unit that housed a large flat screened TV, CD player, DVD player and turntable for my collection of vinyl. A New Lease on Life "You have an interesting taste in music." "Yeah, it's sort of a potted history of my ever-changing likes, from heavy metal to classical. Of late it's been more classical in keeping with my slowing down." We sat on the sofa and she picked up her cup and took a sip. "No sugar required, this is nice coffee." "Only the best for my guests." "She was very pretty." "Who? Oh you mean Connie? Yes she was, right up to the end." "You miss her very much, don't you?" "Yes, but not as much as yesterday." "What happened yesterday?" "I hadn't met you. Don't get me wrong, this isn't me coming on to you, it's me remembering her and comparing you to her, you could have been sisters you're that much alike, your personality that is." "Thank you, I wasn't at my best this morning." "There was enough of your best to shine through. When you said that it wasn't anything that a trip to hospital wouldn't fix I knew, Connie was just like that, playing down any problems." "Do you have any kids?" "Three, two daughters that I love dearly and a son." "That you don't love dearly? Is there a problem there?" "Yes, he wants me to sell up and move into a Retirement Village. I'm resisting for all that I'm worth, the girls are supporting my decision." "If it's any consolation, I'd support you as well, speaking from experience, they're not my idea of fun." After some three hours of conversation, getting to know you type conversation, I reached the moment that would make or break my self-confidence. "Emily, it's getting very late and time that I should be offering to drive you home, or at the very least, calling a cab. I'm tired and don't trust myself to stay awake long enough to get to your place and back, and I'm reluctant to call a cab because . . . . . . "I took a deep breath. "Because I want you to stay here, tonight, with me, well not actually with me as in sleep with me, but here in my house with me." She put her finger to my lips to shut me up. "I want to stay as much as you want me to. I don't know about the sleeping with you, I need to know your motivation. Do you want me to sleep with you as a companion, or is it more than that?" "A companion will do for a start. I don't even know if I'd be able to get it up, I could do it with Connie, but then I knew her and she knew how to arouse me. I suggest that we play this by ear. I don't even know if I'm ready for a relationship, but let me tell you, you're the first woman since Connie got sick that I'd given more than fleeting consideration to. As far as I know I have normal urges, but I think a lot will depend on the time and place as well as the person." "Okay. I say let's do it. One thing that may have slipped your mind is that I have nothing to wear to bed." "I'd probably be able to come up with something, will a tee shirt do?" "Looking at your size, I'd say that it should be able to hide the interesting bits." "I usually sleep in tee shirt and jocks so I'll find one of mine." I let her do the ablution bit first and, while I was scrubbing up, she slid into bed and was snuggled under the doona with just her head showing, exactly as Connie did. I slid into bed and turned to her. "Don't take this the wrong way." I leaned over and kissed her lightly on the proffered lips. "Goodnight Emily." "Goodnight Les." She kissed me and held it for longer than I'd held mine. It felt good. I got out of bed at sparrow fart, (the real phrase is 'before sparrow fart' signifying very early. Just 'sparrow fart' is a shortening of that phrase) syphoning the python, (Having a leak, pissing) and when I returned to the bed Emily was awake. "Good morning, I thought for a minute that I was dreaming." "More like a nightmare I'd say, waking up to find you've slept with me." I clambered into bed. "Good morning, how are we this morning?" "I feel fine, better than fine. I don't want to appear too forward, but I could get to like this." "You could, could you?" I kissed her. Her hand reached out and held my face to hers. "Again, I don't want to appear too forward, but, at my time of life I don't give a toss what people will say, I say 'carpe diem', seize the day, why do we have to wade through the preliminary bullshit? I want to see if you can get it up, I want to feel once more a cock inside me and I want it to be your cock. Is that forward enough for you?" I surprised myself by getting a half-way decent erection with just a small amount of stimulation from her. Her pussy was open to receive him, and the result was for me very satisfactory. "You haven't lost your touch. It mightn't have been the bucking and screaming orgasm of my youth, but I did get there, and you obviously did as well. If you'll excuse me, I think I should go to the toilet and clean up before I dribble all over your sheet." "You don't have to do that, I was going to wash them this morning anyway. Let's just wallow in our sexy mess for the time being." Wallow we did, and I for one enjoyed every minute of it. I hate to say this but this reminded me so much of my early life with Connie and I realise that I am somehow going to have to forget that or else I will have no hope of a meaningful relationship with Emily. She helped me make breakfast, it wasn't all that hard, What I usually did was to put some home-made yoghurt in a bowl along with about a handful of muesli, then cover it with milk and let it soak while I took the dogs for their morning walk and toilet break. (This way they did number two's on the beach where it was easy to pick up rather than on the grass, plus I dumped the 'poo bags' in the bin thoughtfully provided by the local council.) When I get home I slice a banana on top of the muesli, crank up the coffee machine and voila, a tasty and nutritious breakfast. I got the dogs into the car, strapped them in and headed for the beach. Emily came with me, and when I met the usual suspects on the beach, fitted in quite nicely with our conversations. "This is nice." She said as we walked back to the car. "There's quite the little community on the beach, it's almost as if you know everyone." "Not even close, there are some that I talk with, and sometimes walk with, while with others, we just throw each other 'good mornings' in passing." "The people in my village rarely speak to each other, I don't even know my neighbour's name and I've been there six months, it's as if we are scared of making friends because we're afraid of getting hurt when they die on us." "That's so sad, and one of the reasons that I don't want to end up there." "I only wish that my husband had never gotten so sick, I might have been able to hang on a little longer in my old place. At least I had him." She seemed so down. "What I would like is for us to see if there's a possibility of a relationship between us. If there is I would like you to move in with me. At this stage I'm not prepared to make any guarantees, but I would like to try." "I'd like that too." She stopped me and when I turned to her she kissed me. If there were any people around they would have thought it strange that two old farts like us should be carrying on like a couple of school kids. After breakfast I would have driven her home but decided against it, so we sat around and talked. Sometime during the morning, at her request, I got out the family photo album. "You really loved each other, didn't you?" "Yes. She was the only woman that I ever loved. I'd known her since we were kids, we lived next door to each other and we just fell in love with each other." "It shows, I'm jealous of you. My husband and I started off in love, but it sort of dissolved into a comfortable companionship. He had a problem with the horses, which was why we didn't have our own home and lived in a rental all our married life. It was a bit unsettling when, from time to time, we had to move because he lost so much money that we couldn't pay our rent. It wasn't a settled life at all." "I'm sorry to hear that. But enough of this depressing conversation." I said as I closed the album. "I'm going to put this away and not take it out unless we don't make it. If we don't I'll take it out and pour my soul out to Connie, she'll understand." "So I'm not under any pressure here, is that it?" "Not at all. Now what are we going to do for the rest of the day, we can't just sit here dribbling on about our sad lives, we should be out there having fun." I stood up and dragged her to her feet. She came into my arms and we kissed. "We could always go back to bed." "Much as that is tempting, I thing we should take it slow in that department until we're more comfortable with each other. If we're to have any relationship it must be based on friendship and mutual understanding not sex, not that I've got anything against sex, and if this morning was anything to go by, that has the potential to be great as well." "Oh all right, we forget about sex for the time being, but let me tell you, I'll not forget about it for long because it was the best sex that I think I've ever had." She kissed me softly, and her hand drifted down to my cock. "No fair, stop that." "Why? Don't you want it?" "Of course, but at my age there is a thing called too much of a good thing." "You can never get too much of a good thing." She saw the look in my eye and let go of my cock and stepped out of our embrace. "All right, what do you suggest that we do for the rest of the day?" We had as much fun as a couple of geriatrics could manage until we arrived back at my place. "What do you want to do for dinner? We can stay in and I'll cook you something, or we can go to the pub again, what do you want to do?" I asked her as we pulled up in my driveway. "We could always go back to my place and I'll cook you something." She said tentatively, as if she was hoping that I wouldn't take up her offer. "No, I get this feeling that you're a little embarrassed about your accommodation. You feel that you have to invite me but aren't comfortable with it at all. I want to, at some stage, have dinner with you, but not until you're ready for that." "Thank you for that. I will be ready soon, I promise." "And I'll hold you to that promise. I need to explain something, I'm not a snob. Having worked in the building trade all my life, I have a good idea how the other half live and, while I mightn't swear like a trooper like some of them, I don't look down on them as inferior human beings. The same goes for the people I meet in my social life, condescension of the poor by the rich is a trait that I cannot abide." "That's something that I love about you. I want to find more things to love, and that's going to take time and a lot of research. Will you let me find out more?" "Of course, and I want to find out everything that there is to find out about you." I kissed her and we got out of the car and headed for the house. "I'll cook us something simple but nutritious." As I headed for the kitchen. "Can I help?" Emily asked as I grabbed the ingredients. "I could be nasty and ask you to chop the onions, but I won't. Could you open that can of diced tomato, and get me some oregano, basil, tarragon and thyme from the spice rack." I busied myself with the onions and garlic, chopping them and chucking them into the bowl of my electric pressure cooker. This was followed by the tomato and herbs, I stirred them all together before grabbing some chicken pieces from the fridge. I opened a bottle of red from my collection and poured a generous splash into the bowl and put the lid on and locking it in place. I set it for 'Chicken' and turned it on. "That will take about twenty minutes, what we need now is pasta." I took the microwave rice cooker out and poured water to the depth of around 75 millimetres before a pinch of sea salt and then a couple of handfuls of spirelli noodles. Into the microwave it went, push the 'dry pasta' setting and set it cooking. "As you might have gathered, to me cooking is an in-exact science, after a while you get a feel for how much goes into a dish. I hope it tastes okay." We sat with a glass of red while the pressure cooker and microwave did their thing. "You seem to have had plenty of practice at this." "Yeah, cooking was an important part of our day, Connie and I took delight in working our own form of culinary magic together, the dishes mightn't always been successful, it was the process that mattered. I made it a habit of not working late so that I could be home for what had almost become a ritual. Trudi and Jenny became part of it when they were old enough, but Warren showed no inclination to get involved. That was probably the beginning of the rift between him and the rest of the family, he didn't want to get involved in the ordinary life of the family and felt more and more isolated from us. We all tried to get him involved, but the more we tried, the more he withdrew." "That's sad." "It is, and his wife hasn't helped, she's an Accountant like him, and her focus is, like his, the acquisition of wealth. Connie and I were always happy to just have our modest needs met, with the occasional treat, like holidays away. After the kids left home we treated ourselves to a couple of overseas package tours, one to Alaska and the other one of those European river cruises. Both of them were wonderful experiences but we couldn't wait to get home." The pressure cooker beeped its completion within seconds of the microwave switching off at the end of its job. I grabbed the noodles out and chucked them into a colander to drain while I released the pressure in the pressure cooker so that I could open it. Emily got plates out of the cupboard and cutlery from the drawer. I served up and we sat at the table to eat. "If I might say so, this doesn't taste bad." "It tastes very good. You do realise that you're spoiling me, don't you?" I spoiled her some more especially in bed, my cock had found a new lease on life and was enjoying it, not to mention that I was enjoying it. "I'd better make an appearance at home or some neighbour will get the impression that I've dropped dead in my unit and call the police," "You can wait until after breakfast, can't you?" "If you twist my arm hard enough I suppose I can." I didn't twist her arm, there are other forms of inducement that are more fun. A couple of days without her and I was feeling bloody miserable. I wanted to be with her so much it hurt, and I was on the verge of getting into my car and driving over to her place when my phone rang. It was Emily. "No arguments from you, you're coming over to my unit for dinner tonight, I want to talk to you." "What time do you want me?" "All the time, but I'll expect you at seven." With that she hung up. On the dot of seven I was pushing her door bell. At 7:00.0000001 the door opened and she was in my arms. "Come in Les, dinner will be ready in half an hour, and that will give me just enough time." "Enough time for what?" "This." She proceeded to undress me, with a little help from me, and we found ourselves on her narrow single bed. She took total control and the lovemaking was sublime. The meal was very nice, if a tad overdone. "Darling," she whispered to me as we lay on her bed once more. "I've missed you dreadfully over the past couple of days, and have decided that I want to be with you all of the time. Do you think that we should try living together?" "Was it the sex or this narrow bed that prompted this?" I smiled at her, just to let her know that I wasn't serious. "Neither, we haven't been having sex, we've been making love to each other. Having said that, this bed leaves a lot to be desired, I certainly wouldn't want to spend the night with you in it." "Is that a hint that you want to come home with me?" She opened her wardrobe to reveal no clothes but a packed suitcase in the bottom of it. "Does this answer your question?" "Well, what are we waiting for?" Nothing as it turned out. She turned out the lights and locked the door behind her. What a night! Exhaustion took hold fairly quickly, stamina not being a strong point with us old farts, and we drifted off into a contented sleep at around ten o'clock not to surface until around seven the next morning. "Good morning Darling." A voice close to my face whispered. I opened my eyes to find Emily's smiling face in front of me, so I just had to kiss it. Normally the dogs and I head to the beach at eight thirty, but this morning we were late, all four of us. They had accepted Emily as readily as I had, and were as happy to trot along beside her as they were with me. People smiled at us as we walked, the sight of us walking hand in hand a pleasant change from me on my own. I was amazed at how easily she fitted in with me and how readily those on the beach accepted her. Life was looking up from my sadness at losing Connie, and I was now on top of the world. Trudi rang just as we sat down to dinner. "Hi Dad, how are you?" "Really great." "You sound it, what have you been doing?" "I have met someone, a very nice lady called Emily, she's moving in with me." "Dad, are you sure that this is the right thing?" "Yes, very sure, and you'll be sure when you meet her." "That's it, I'm driving up on the weekend to meet her, and I'll reserve judgement until then." "I, we look forward to meeting you, see you in a couple of days." I turned to Emily who looked a little concerned. "Don't worry, she'll love you." "What about Jenny, are you going to invite her as well?" "I won't need to, Trudi will be breaking the news to her right about now. I expect a call from her in . . ." I paused and then counted back from, "five, four, three, two, one." The phone rang. "Hi Jen, you've heard the good news I take it." "Yes, and while I'm happy that you've found someone, don't you think that you're rushing it a little?" "At my age every second of living counts, and I don't want to waste any of the time I have left for appearance sake. You'll understand when you meet her, I assume that you're coming over on the weekend too?" "Just you try and keep me away." "It would appear as if we're going to have a busy weekend." "What about Warren, are you going to invite him as well?" "Not yet. Let's get the easy part over before we attack the difficult one. I'm not looking forward to that one bit, he doesn't like me much already, I hate to think what he's going to be like when he hears our news." The weekend couldn't have been better. Within minutes of meeting Emily, the girls were chatting to her as if they'd known her all their lives. I was talking to Bryan and Tony when Trudi signalled that she wanted to have a quiet word. I excused myself and followed her into the kitchen. "Dad, how did you do it?" "Do what?" "Find someone so like Mum? She's perfect and Jen and I say go for it, you won't get another chance for happiness, you realise that, don't you?" "Thank you for that, I needed your support before I announce this to Warren and . . ." "The bitch." "I wasn't going to say that, but I have to agree with your description of her, I've never warmed to her in all the time that I've known her." "Did you tell him?" Jen came in. "Yes, I've told him that we're happy for him." "And I've just spoken to the boys (Bryan and Tony) and they agree. So I guess that it's happy families again. We all love her Dad, don't you dare lose her." There was a congregation on the back patio, Bryan had started the barbeque and was getting steaks out of the cooler that he'd brought in from their car. "This is a celebration, I suggest that you girls go and make sure that there are enough beds for all of us because I intend to party hard tonight and I suggest that you all do the same. I won't be in any condition to drive home." A New Lease on Life They might have partied hard but not to excess, none of us were approaching being drunk, we were just having a good time, all of us. "Les, you have a great family, I love them all." She kissed me. "Stop it you two, save that for the bedroom." Trudi said with a smile on her face. "In that case, goodnight all, we're going to bed, and I suggest that you all do the same. We'll see you for breakfast." They were bleary eyed when they surfaced in the morning. Emily and I had taken the dogs for a walk and were preparing breakfast when Trudi emerged. "How long did you guys stay up after we left?" Emily asked. "Long enough to reach a decision." Emily and I looked at each other wondering what was coming next. "Don't worry, it's a good thing, we all approve of you two getting together but we're not going to force you to get married or anything like that, at least not straight away. And we've decided that you shouldn't have to be the one to break the good news to Warren, so I'm going to do it, so you'd better be prepared for the fireworks, it won't be pretty." "I know, I've been putting it off for as long as I could, I needed you and Jenny to approve of Emily before I tackled that problem." "You've got it Dad." She came over and hugged Emily. "Welcome to our family." "Thank you, I can't think of a better family to be a part of." They kissed. They all left after breakfast and we were left in peace to await the inevitable. Early afternoon we heard a car pull up in the driveway followed by two car doors being angrily slammed shut, followed by a loud banging on the front door. I opened it to be shoved aside by and angry Warren and his equally angry wife. "What's this we hear about you taking up with some slag?" "Emily is not a slag, as you put it, she's a lovely woman and if you'd just calm down I'll introduce you to the woman who will one day be your Step-mother. Emily this is my son Warren, and this is his wife Francine." I tried to keep my introduction as calm as possible, but believe me it was something of a stretch. "This is my decision, not yours, and despite your opinion, I have not taken leave of my senses, on the contrary, Emily and I have a connection that is every bit as good as the one I had with your Mother. I would suggest that you just calm down and accept the fact that I have no intention of dying just yet, and, if I'm going to live a while longer I want to actually live, and I can't think of a better person to share the rest of my life with than her." He calmed down and begrudgingly wished us well before they left. The last thing we heard was his wife. "Are you just going to let him do this, for all we know he's going to leave the house to her, all of it. You need that house, so do something about it!" "Well, that went well, didn't it?" I commented sarcastically. "It could have been worse, you could have really told him what you thought." "What can I say, you've seen the best and worst of my family, do you still want me?" "More than ever. I want you and I want to be with you, to help you through the rough times and to be with you and enjoy the good times, and from what I've seen today, there will be many more good times than bad, so I think that I'm getting a pretty good life with you." Her kiss was the precursor to a night of pure bliss that began with that kiss and ended with another many hours later. "Darling," "Yes my Dear?" This was sounding ominous. "When we were looking at your family photos I noticed that for a while you had a beard and then you shaved it off, why was that?" "Because Connie complained that she was sick of having a beard rash, as you're aware, my beard is very bristly, anyway she didn't make me shave it off, I did it in deference to her." "Around the mouth wasn't the only place she had a rash, was it?" "No. I'll shave it off in the morning." "Thank you Darling." With that she went to sleep snuggled against me. "My, don't you look handsome." Emily smiled at me as I emerged from the en suite. "This is the first time that I've seen you without a beard and was only able to imagine what you looked like, now I know how handsome you are. Come here and kiss me you smooth faced thing you." What could I do but oblige. The dogs and breakfast were both late. Life just kept getting better, we had settled into a flexible routine that centred on a couple of constants, our beach walks with the dogs, the regular tasks around the house and yard, which, now that they were once again shared tasks, were no longer a chore. Emily had cleared out her unit and it had reverted back to the Retirement Village's ownership as per her contract with them. They would give a quick re-furb before re-letting it. Her ties with her old life were now severed. Just when we thought that everything was going well Warren arrived on our doorstep, a very agitated Warren. "Dad, can I come in?" "Sure Son, come on in." I saw Emily looking at us from the kitchen with a worried look on her face. "Darling, could you make coffee for us?" I turned to Warren. "Now sit, what is this about?" "Francine and I have split up. She has left me for her boss. But that's not the worst bit, she's been dipping into our joint account, there's not a lot left. If she files for divorce, and that's a given after what she said this morning, I could stand to lose just about everything." "What brought this on, apart from her obviously having it off with the boss?" "It was you, not that I'm blaming you. It's just that she was pushing me to force you to sell up here so that we could tap you for money. After the last time we spoke she got even more insistent that I do something to get you out of the house, but I couldn't. I could see that you and Emily were happy, you were the happiest that I'd seen you since Mum got her diagnosis from hell, and you deserved to stay here with her. Francine just wouldn't accept that I no longer wanted you out. The arguments got worse to the point that I'd had enough. I have told her that she has until this evening to be out of the house, and I've no doubt that she will leave nothing that isn't bolted down, despite me giving her an inventory with what she can take highlighted." "Ouch, that would have gone down like a lead balloon. That would have made her angry enough to torch the place and split the insurance with you." "Don't say that, don't even suggest it. But the worst thing was yet to come, when I accessed out joint account I found that she'd been making large withdrawals without my knowledge, so I froze the account. While I was driving over here I got a very angry phone call, it would seem that the Removalist wanted half up front, and when he swiped her card, it came back as frozen. Her personal account had nothing in it, and when she rang her boss, slash lover, he couldn't come up with the money either. From this I gather that he has been fucking her in the hope that she could come up with funds to support his failing business, and that they'd hatched this scheme that once you'd sold up here and I'd tapped you for funds, she'd piss off and claim half of all joint assets. With no money in her personal account, she was in a win/win situation. Just how an Accountant could fail in business I'll never understand." "So what is your next move?" "First thing is, I owe you an apology, I've behaved badly, can you forgive me?" "Of course, and it's not because that's what fathers do, I love you and will always love you no matter what you do. Part of fatherly love is to allow your children to do whatever they want, hoping that they follow the guidelines that you give them as they grow up, but to always be there to sooth the hurts when they come as well as offer congratulations when they succeed." Warren looked at Emily. "Emily, I have behaved despicably towards you and it is you in particular that I need to forgive me. Can you see it in your heart to do that?" Emily went to him and gathered him in her arms. "Of course I forgive you, and I understand your reasons for your behaviour and don't hold it against you. Give your Step-mum a kiss." She kissed the tears that were streaming down his cheeks, and let him cry on her shoulder. More and more I love this woman. "And now." He said as he wiped his eyes. "It's down to business. First a Locksmith to change all the locks on the house, and then see what she's left me. Thank you for the coffee and the shoulder, I feel so much better now. I'll talk to you later and let you know how I'm getting on." "Before you go, why don't you come over on Saturday, we'll have a proper family celebration, I'll speak to the girls, and I'm sure that they'll get behind you and support you." "I wouldn't be too sure about that, I've treated them badly over the years." "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. See you Saturday, be here at eleven for lunch, but don't make plans for the evening, you never know how long this will last." "Good-bye and thanks again." "Well, that went well." I said, this time with no trace of sarcasm. "I'm so proud of you, I realised for the very instant that you helped me after I'd been run down by a feral skateboarder, that you were something special as a man. You've just confirmed that first impression." She came into my arms and we kissed, our flexible routine just got stretched out of shape. Saturday was a day to remember. Trudi, Jenny and their respective husbands surprised Warren by offering not only their support and understanding but love. He was once more a part of our family, something that he'd never expected. He gave in to pressure and accepted invitations from both girls to visit them, something else he'd never expected. I caught him, later in the afternoon, having a quiet sob to himself in his old room. "Dad, I was never a part of this family, was I?" "You were always a part of this family, it was your choice to distance yourself. I can't believe that Francine wasn't an influence there, it just took you time to realise what families are about, its love and support without condition. You were denied our love and support, not because it wasn't there, but because of the conditions that you yourself imposed. Once you removed those conditions the love flowed once more. Now get out and enjoy that love." "What a day," Emily said as she snuggled up to me in bed, "I've never felt so complete as I have with your family, all of them including Warren, who I didn't take to at first." "And I've not felt this complete for so many years, not since Warren left home. Now I find that I have a whole new lease on life, and I'm going to enjoy it immensely, come here." I kissed her, and caressed her, and fondled her, and, hell you know what I did with her.