5 comments/ 30109 views/ 1 favorites Life's Eternal Struggle Ch. 01 By: smj54ap Kit scowled as she lectured me on the benefits of diet and exercise. "Dad, you need to do some kind of exercise. Have you thought about walking?" she asked seriously. "I walk." I answered. "Where?" She inquired. "From the bed to the bathroom and from the TV to the kitchen." I responded. Kit shook her head disgustedly and regarded me as though I was a fifty year old child. My wife's death two years ago was traumatic for me and I had gained twenty pounds, maybe more. "Tomorrows Christmas Eve, Andy and I expect you about 7pm and try to wear something decent, no jeans or sneakers. OK?" She said in an exasperated tone. After Kit left, I went thru my closet searching for something that still fit me. Except for a few pairs of sweats and some jeans, zippo! With Kit's proclamation about the proper attire ringing in my ears, I put on a fresh pair of sweats and headed to the Galleria. Promptly at 7pm, I arrived at Kit's wearing my new clothes and she seemed very pleased. At hers urging she adopted their family tradition of opening gifts on Christmas Eve and with a disgruntled look, I sat in Kit's living room and exchanged presents. Kit'ss always gave such nice tasteful store bought gifts but this year they surprised Kit and Andy with a gift certificate to Home Depot. "How sickeningly thoughtful." I mused to myself. Kit and Andy were remodeling their living room but when I saw the "extravagant" amount on the certificate, I thought it might buy a couple of sheets of dry wall at the most. They vociferously expressed their appreciation but under my breath I muttered, "Cheap Bastard's." They were so "white bread" wholesome that I wanted to puke. The most boring and non-descript people I ever had the displeasure of meeting. They wrote the book on cheap and saved and cut corners with something akin to religious zeal. To them a penny saved was worth far more than a penny spent. Sometimes, I comically envisioned Mr. "Tight Ass" opening his wallet and the portrait of George Washington on the dollar bill blinking at the glare from the light. I opened my yearly holiday card which usually contained a gift certificate to brunch or a dinner at a local restaurant. To my surprise and disappointment, the gift certificate was for a yearly membership to Brewer's Ultimate Gym. Kit saw my expression. "Now Dad, that gym is less than a mile from your house and has the latest in cardio equipment." She stated factually Before I had a chance to respond, Mr. "White Bread" spoke up. "That's good exercise for your heart." Initially I wanted to comment by saying, "No shit Sherlock, is that a fact." But, I knew that Kit's wrath was less desirable. As I was preparing to leave for the evening, Kit looked apprehensive. "I worry about you all alone in that house, especially on Christmas eve." She said in a voice full of concern. After spending the last four hours with the "Ozzie and Harriet" clones discussing bodily functions and safe penny pinching investing, I needed multiple shots of Jack Daniel's to restore my sanity. Sitting at home with only the light from the TV serving as my sole source of illumination was a much welcome and needed relief. "Remember tomorrow at 2pm." She stated as her parting words. Unfortunately for me, Kit'ss were in town until New Years Day. My prayers for a blizzard in Southern California went unanswered and on Christmas Day, I was seated next to Mr. "White Bread" in the den. Out of the blue, he volunteers to take my flabby ass to Brewer's Gym on the 26th. "Don't want the gift certificate to go to waste." The stingy prick declared. At dinner, I made sure I put small portions of each food item on my plate. Mrs. "White Bread" made the tasteless stuffing and overcooked vegetables. When I reached for the salt, I was greeted by a bevy of howling voices admonishing me on the use of salt and its deadly side effects. I wanted to say. "It's salt for Chrissakes, not arsenic!" If that wasn't bad enough, I had to sit through reruns on the golf channel with "Mr. Arnold Palmer Wanna Be" commenting about each shot and its significance to the game. "He should use the five iron!" Mr. "Double Bogey" would declare to the TV. It was so incredibly boring that I wanted to hang a sign around my neck that said "PLEASE KILL ME" and walk thru South Central LA with hundred dollar bills hanging out of my pockets. I loved my daughter and although she was raised by a pair of non-conformists, she felt at home and at ease with the "White Breads" of Michigan. But, they corrected me on that as well. It was The U P or Upper Peninsula of Michigan. "Lord, where did I go wrong?" I silently implored with my eyes skyward. With morbid humor, I thanked God that my wife had died before Kit married Mr. "White Bread Jr." and was subjected to their idea of a holly jolly Christmas. I was saying goodbye and had to suffer thru a chorus of "so soon?" from the insincere and faux disappointed "White Breads." Kit walked with me to my car and before I got in, gave me a hug. "I know their not your cup of tea, but did you have any fun?" she asked in a sincere way. I pondered her question for a moment. "Yeah, when I took a dump in the upstairs bathroom!" I stated with honesty. "Dad, you're impossible!" she exclaimed with a sour puss face that lightened to a broad grin and hugged me affectionately. At home, I was relaxing in my Lazy Boy lounger, the only inanimate object in my house that I truly loved, when a ½ hour TV sitcom called "How I Met Your Mother" caught my attention. The basic premise is simple, the main character, Ted, is looking for a mate and all the trials and tribulations involved with the search. His friends are an eclectic group of twenty-something's who hang out, give him advice and have adventures of their own. After I watched the show, I was struck by the timelessness of the eternal struggle to find a life mate, soul mate, wife or husband. Like the character Ted, I always thought the girl I just dated or met might be the "one." An incredible flood of memories swept thru me as I recalled the long and winding road to true love and marriage. I saw myself as a teenager... ONE: Davis was handing me a joint as we sat under the bleachers at River Heights High School. We were seniors and part of the top academic group; the group that was routinely abused by the jock crowd. The peace movement was dead but smoking pot was still the high of choice. Davis wanted to introduce me to his cousin Lisa at a party on Saturday night. "What does she look like, a cocker spaniel?" I asked sarcastically. "She's good looking, man." He rebutted. We both saw our friend Megan run toward us in her sweaty field hockey clothes. "Smoking pot again!" she stated too loudly. "Thanks Megan! Now the whole school knows." Davis stated with anger. Before I had a chance to say hello, Megan took off down the field. I watched with some longing as she ran back to practice. "You really like her?" Davis asked with some disbelief. "Yeah" I said in a dreamy voice. Later, as I was walking home, I heard a familiar voice behind me. In a flash, Megan was at my side. "You need help with the Calc worksheet we got in class today?" She asked. "I sure do!" I said still feeling the effects of the pot. "My house, 7pm" she stated and walked with me the rest of the way. Megan and I became friends in fifth grade when I needed help with some math problems. I must have looked helpless because from then on she took me under her wing. Megan was an excellent athlete and considering girls' sports programs in the early 1970's were vastly inferior to boys' in terms of funding, quite an achievement. Megan was very brainy and placed in the top scholastic group at school. She moved effortlessly between the jocks and the geeks, although I think she preferred the geeks. That was part of my problem, I didn't look like a geek and neither did Davis. With our bell bottom jeans, long hair and tie dyed shirts, we looked like we were going to a Grateful Dead concert. But, our inclusion in the top academic group automatically accorded us geek status. In junior year I developed a serious crush on Megan but because perception is more readily accepted than reality, I kept my feelings to myself. I was convinced that she would laugh at me if I asked her out. The real torture was watching her date other guys, especially one of the loathsome jocks. Saturday night, I met Davis' cousin and for once he wasn't lying, she was a cutie. But, she was a full figured girl, not fat but filled out. I preferred my women slim, trim and athletic. By the end of the night I had her telephone number and we started dating. Fall in Southeastern Pennsylvania was my favorite time of the year and watching Megan play field hockey on a warm afternoon was heaven on earth. I never tired of watching her fly up and down the field as she switched from offense to defense effortlessly. As the year progressed, our friendship grew but I still harbored my secret crush. I purposely joined the school newspaper as a sports reporter so I could attend her away games. But, in my secret heart, I was her biggest fan and admirer. I was convinced that our relationship would never amount to more than friendship. With that in my mind, I dated Lisa and like Ted on the TV show, thought I had found "her" but the feeling didn't last long. Lisa had a prudish attitude toward sex and except for make out sessions, nothing else happened. I wasn't attracted to her physical type or I might have pushed the issue more. Anyway, she refused to smoke pot with me and we dated sporadically until spring. While I was dating Lisa, Megan grew more interested in the dynamics of our friendship and started to question why we shared a close relationship. Sometimes, she asked pointed questions that I could have answered but kept buried deep in my psyche. Megan was everything I wanted in a girl. Her tight athletic body, sweet but aggressive personality, pretty face, blonde hair and loyalty were the characteristics that appealed to me in a big way. At Christmas, I gave her a 14k yellow gold chain that set me back a few bucks. I really wanted to give her a small ring but I thought it was much too obvious. Megan adored her gift. "You treat me better than my own brother!" she declared and gave me a peck on the cheek. At the track meets, she always wore it and claimed it was her good luck charm. With her athletic ability, I doubted that she needed a talisman. The end of the school year loomed on the horizon when I got in serious trouble with the faculty advisor of the school newspaper. I ignored her instructions not to print a story that savagely lampooned the Principal and Vice Principal. I bullied Bobby, a fellow geek and the Editor, into printing the story and the shit hit the fan. I narrowly escaped expulsion when my parents intervened on my behalf. The expulsion would have seriously jeopardized my acceptance to PSU and luckily, I received a three day suspension as my punishment. Megan was sitting in my den the afternoon of my first suspension day. "Poole, this article is really good." She said with admiration in her voice as she read the story for the umpteenth time. For some unknown reason, all my friends called me by my last name. But, I was glad considering my first name was Arthur. I hated the name and its derivative "Art". It would be a few more years before Dudley Moore made it a household fixture with a motion picture of the same name. I wanted to be a writer but my father insisted that I attend college and earn a practical degree. In other words, one that guaranteed employment upon graduation. Megan was looking out the window with a wistful look on her face. "I'm going to miss my friends when schools over." She said with a sigh. When Megan told me she was accepted at UCLA, my heart sank. I was hoping she would consider PSU so I could be near her. I gazed with yearning at her tight body clothed in hip hugger jeans and a dark green sweater. Her erect nipples poked at the front of her sweater and she caught me looking. "You're a naughty boy." She yelled with false anger and jumped on me; pining my arms to the floor. At that moment, I realized that I was in love with her; an unrequited love that would be separated by three thousand miles. Graduation Day came all too quickly. Davis had scored some excellent weed and gave me enough for a few joints. We were sitting under the bleachers in our usual spot. I took a long toke on the proffered joint and had a coughing fit. "Hey Aqualung! ...spitting out pieces of his broken lung..." Davis sang in a perfect Ian Anderson imitation of Jethro Tull fame. When I stopped coughing, I got all philosophical and related my lack of sexual experiences with deep regret. "What base did you get to, man?" He asked haltingly as he refused to release the potent smoke from his lungs. "Probably, not past first." I said with regret "Join the crowd, man." He stated in admission. "I've never seen a girls' 'cooter'!" I exclaimed. "Man, I saw Molly Sanbrill's at Bobby's pool party last week." He said with disgust. "Damn thing looked like part of the Brazilian rainforest was transplanted between her thighs." He declared with a look of horror. Molly was an oversexed, unattractive and overweight mess of a teenager. Actually, she was a nice person but once she got some booze or pot in her, LOOK OUT! "Rumor has it that she sucked Bobby off after everyone left." He said in a gossipy way. "Shit man! Bobby's even getting some action." I lamented. Unless something drastic happened, I was headed for college as a virgin. The supposed "free love" part of the Woodstock Generation had passed by Davis and me. TWO: Megan and I spent graduation night going from party to party. I was tired of playing the brother part in our brother/sister act. For the last two years, her tight and athletic body was the main attraction in my nightly masturbation fantasy. We were at Bobby's graduation party but it was far too smoky and stuffy inside. Megan with me close behind, made her way to the outside patio and the fresh air. Courtesy of Davis, I lit a joint and handed it to Megan. When she partied, she preferred pot over alcohol and took a long toke. By the time we smoked half the joint, we were flying high. Megan, always the showoff, was doing handstands on the lawn. The sight of her taut body had my pecker twitching. After numerous cartwheels and other feats of athletic prowess, she plopped down into a lawn chair by the pool. The high from pot usually brought out Megan's analytical side and tonight was no exception. Since we were attending different colleges in the fall and our brother/sister act would soon be only a memory, she asked probing questions in her search for answers to our friendship. By now, I wanted to scream, "Enough already!" "How come you never asked me out?" she inquired in a sincere way. I kept the reason a closely guarded secret inside me and was silent. Anyway, Megan knew and answered her own question. "You were scared. Why?" She asked in a searching way. I mumbled a few incomprehensible words but my resistance to her questions disintegrated courtesy of the inhibition lowering pot and the fact that she had eroded my resolve with her continued harping. The words tumbled out of my mouth. "I think you're one of the hottest and sexiest girls I ever met but I thought you were way out of my league." I blurted out. Although my intelligence had landed me in the highest academic group, I felt like a stupid fool for speaking the truth. Megan was no dumb jock. She had a stunned, no, a surprised look on her face that turned to anger. "We've been friends since 5th grade and you thought I was out of your league!?" She stated with vehemence. Megan had a huffy look on her face. "All this time I thought you weren't interested in me, you know, in that way." she said in an exasperated voice. I lit the remaining half of the joint as a peace offering which she accepted. "Boy's, I'll never understand them." She remarked in a mystified voice. We smoked a few hits and I discovered that Megan's mission to unearth the truth wasn't over. "So what do you fantasize about at night when you play with yourself. I know guys masturbate, so don't bullshit me. What sex act is your favorite?" She questioned with Perry Mason intensity. "Am I part of your fantasies?" she asked sarcastically. I was fidgeting under Megan's close scrutiny and she was closing in on her objective. I remembered a famous quote: "The truth will set you free" At this point, I might as well go for broke. "Yes." I stated meekly. Megan was regarding me suspiciously and with her hands on her hips, she assumed a defiant pose that was pure Megan. "Do you screw me or I know, I give you blow jobs. Most boys seem to love that particular activity" She inquired with shocking frankness. Megan was searching my face for the answer with her intense gaze in the dim light. My failure to respond both visually and verbally was an indication that she hadn't discovered the truth but her expression suddenly changed. "I know! You fantasized about performing oral sex on me." Megan bragged mockingly but she gasped when the expression on my face gave away the truth. She shook her head in disbelief and had an amused, "The truth is finally out in the open" expression on her pretty face. "How long have you fantasized about this? And be honest! " She asked in a demanding way. "About two years, I think." I responded in a guilty tone. "Two years." Megan mumbled several times and taking me by the hand, pulled me to my feet. "Where are we going?" I asked like a bleating sheep. "To my garage; we'll need some privacy." She declared. As we walked to her house, visions of Megan in her skimpy bikini that looked molded to her taut body popped in my head. I always regarded my lust and fascination with small breasted, slim and athletic women as a degenerative disorder. Most of my friends liked big breasts and fuller figures. The "girly" magazines of the day, "Playboy" and the fledgling "Penthouse", were predominantly filled with big breasted or full figured women. My taste in women ran contrary to most everything they considered sexy and attractive. For the last two years, I was consumed by a nebulous desire to perform oral sex on a girl and Megan was the object of that desire. We went into her garage, and opened a side door that led to an upstairs room. Originally, her father used it as an office but now it served as a TV/Play room when relatives or company visited with children. We used the streetlights that filtered in thru the windows as our only source of light. Megan made me sit on the carpeted floor with my back facing the far wall. Her trim form was well lit by the filtered light from the windows. I didn't know what to expect until Megan pulled her tight top over her head and her sheer white bra came into view. Megan shucked her shoes to the side and with a sexy gaze that she kept riveted on me, popped the snap on her jeans and seductively pulled the zipper down. The sound of the descending zipper in the quiet room was about the most erotic sound I ever heard. With her hands grasping the sides, Megan shimmied her hips loosening the grip of the tight blue jeans. With achingly slow movement, they descended her legs and pooled in a pile at her feet. She lifted each leg and pulled the jeans the rest of the way off. I let out a slightly audible wolf whistle as I gazed longingly at her ultra tight body. Life's Eternal Struggle Ch. 01 "You really like my body?" she asked in amazement. "I think you have a great body." I declared with conviction. "But, I have such little breasts." She said shyly with her hands covering her bra. "That's just how I like them." I exclaimed. Megan stood in front of me and taking my hand pulled me to my feet. "Reach around back and unhook my bra." She said forcefully. My hands were shaking and my palms were sweaty. "Wouldn't it be easier if you turned around?" I asked meekly. Megan's face wore an expression of exasperation and annoyance. "Didn't Lisa teach you anything!? She exclaimed. Lisa, the prude, hadn't taught me anything useful. I was incredibly nervous and my voice squeaked in reply. "I guess not" "I can see your going to be my 'special project' for the summer." She stated with an accepting air. "Now, let's try this again. Reach around back and unhook my bra. You have done this before?" She inquired with patience. I slowly shook my head in a negative response and Megan's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're still a virgin!?" She stated with incredulity. This time I shook my head with a positive response and Megan's face lit up with joy. "I'm going to your first! That's my fantasy!" She declared in triumph. Megan took me in her arms and hugged me. Her strength was impressive as she squeezed all the air out of me. The only part of the truth that remained hidden inside of me was the fact that I had fallen in love with her. "Megan, I think I should tell you one last thing." I said with a strong voice full of courage. She backed away but held me fast with her extended arms and her intense gaze turned my knees to jelly. "I love you" I articulated with emotion. Megan gazed at me with loving, searching eyes; eyes that questioned why I waited so long to reveal my feelings. Megan pulled me to the floor and lay prone on top of me. She kissed me enthusiastically and stirred a conflagration in my loins. Her tongue entered my mouth and I gently sucked it as a sign of my supplication. As Megan humped my jeans covered thigh, I reached around her back with the intent of unhooking her bra on the first attempt. Mercifully, the catch cooperated and I ran my hands up and down the velvety smooth skin of her back. The feel of Megan's skin and the wiry muscle just below the surface was indescribably erotic. She stopped kissing me for a moment and gazed at me. "Can I touch the skin on the rest of your body? I asked like a pupil would ask a teacher. Without saying word, she turned to lie on her back and as the loose bra fell free, I got my first look at her breasts. They were just swells on her chest but the Hershey Kiss pink nipples were a delight. With gentle hands I roamed her upper body. Up one arm and down the next, over her hard six pack stomach, across her panty line, up the sides of her torso, just below her breasts and finally with as light a touch as I could muster, over her face and up the sides of her neck. With tenderness, I traced around the swells on her chest in tightening circles until I grazed the nipples. They visibly hardened and involuntarily I leaned forward and kissed them. With a passionate hunger, I kissed her protruding buds and my first suck of a girls' nipple had me delirious with desire. Megan held my head and cooed as I nursed her rigid stubs. My need to fulfill my fantasy overtook me and I worked my way down her body. First, I stopped to kiss the solid muscles of her belly. But, it was merely a diversion as I slowly journeyed to my final destination. Megan opened her thighs wide and I saw a wet spot in the center of her white panties. I naively thought she peed herself but the sensual odor told me otherwise. My friends had compared the smell of pussy to over ripe fish. How wrong they were. The strong aroma had an aromatic quality that thrilled my senses. I placed my mouth over the spot and nuzzled her mound with my nose. My animal or male instinct took over and I mouthed the wet spot until the tart flavor reached my taste buds. My tongue was eager for a taste so I eased her panties down her legs and gaped in awe at her hairy mound. I kissed the insides of her muscled thighs until I reached my target and with one lick, I was hooked. I kept licking up and down but I was clueless about what to do next. Megan, the leader in our friendship, gave instructions in a breathless voice. "That's good. Now lick a little faster and apply more pressure." Megan arched her back when I complied with her instructions. At the top of her wet slit my tongue felt a small firm nub. "That's my clitoris; its very sensitive so be gentle." She instructed. As lightly as my tongue would allow, I grazed the little bud and with innate awareness, a gentle suck. Megan moaned her consent and spread her thighs father apart. I poked her leaking hole with my tongue tip and hoped my cock would someday explore the steamy interior. I slurped more urgently and some of Megan's secretions pooled in my mouth. Not knowing what to do, I swallowed and the strong flavor satisfied me on a visceral level. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" She squealed loudly and urged me to keep licking and not forget her clit. I continued slurping away with brief stops at her clit. The fragrance, the sopping wet flesh and the exquisite taste filled my senses. Briefly, I gazed up her torso and marveled at the erect nipples as she rolled them with her fingers. Megan cried out, "Oh!" in one long unbroken wail. Megan mashed my face against her undulating slit and bucked her hips wildly. After her movements slowed, I lifted my dripping mouth and looked at her. "Did you have an orgasm?" I asked with some pride. "Oh yeah!" She declared in a sexy voice I never heard her use before. Megan pulled me up until I lay next to her and gazed at me with dreamy eyes. She kissed my sticky lips and unbuttoned my jeans. Her hand gripped my underwear covered boner and as she fondled the throbbing flesh, I shot my wad. Stay tuned for Chapter Two. Life's Eternal Struggle Ch. 02 Mr. "Non-Descript" gripped the steering wheel with white knuckle intensity as we drove below the speed limit to Brewer's Gym. "Don't want to waste gas." Mr. "Tight Wad" preached. The adage "time is money" popped into my head but I kept silent. His "save money" principals were carved in stone like the Ten Commandments, irrefutable and biblical in their proportions. With a line of traffic behind us, our torturously slow advance to the gym continued. California drivers are not a patient lot and car horns were trumpeting their displeasure. A sudden desire to force my foot onto the gas pedal gripped me but it took all of my will power to exercise self control. Mr. "Indy 500" was totally unfazed by all the commotion and truthfully, I've seen corpses with more animation. When we pulled into the gym parking lot, I jumped out of the car and ran inside. As I waited for the receptionist, Mr. "White Bread" entered and stood next to me. "Ray, you don't have to wait" I said with irritation. "Oh, I don't mind" He said in bland rebuttal. Before I had a chance to continue arguing, the receptionist appeared and I handed her the gift certificate. "I'm sorry Mr. Poole but the certificate entitles you to a Monday, Wednesday and Friday membership." She said with a note of real regret. Mr. "El Cheapo" immediately got to his feet and started arguing with the young woman. I was astonished, the cadaver came to life. Anything that involved money and its usage was the stimuli that excited him. It was readily apparent who had purchased the gift in the first place. The manager appeared and tried to restore some semblance of order. But, "Old Tight Ass" was on a mission and argued like a desperate defense attorney who's client faced the death penalty. "Ray, shut up! I bellowed. Mr. "Pinch Penny" had a startled and hurt look on his face. "It's my gift, I'll handle this!" I declared with conviction. In a minute or less, the manager and I reached a compromise. A one hour introductory session was offered as a solution and it left everyone smiling except for "you know who." Mr. "Pain in the Ass" was sitting in the reception area with a sorrowful/dejected look on his face. Despite my pleas for him to leave, he insisted on waiting. A pretty and blonde exercise tech in her late twenty's explained each exercise and the equipment in detail. As I looked up at her from my reclining position on the chest press machine, she reminded me of a young Megan. The golden hair, "girl next door" looks and athletic build were raising my temperature. I thought about Megan and the summer of my sexual enlightening... After my introduction to Megan's hot muscular body on graduation night, I became her willing and studious pupil. My first taste of pussy had me ravenous for more and she saw to my needs on a regular basis. Megan delighted in teaching me the proper techniques and methods. However, with only two weeks until the start of our college careers, intercourse was the only act left to be taught. One very sultry night, I ran into Davis at Via's Pizzeria. His eyes were bloodshot and betrayed recent pot smoking. Because of my relationship with Megan, I had seen little of him all summer. "Hey man! How's it hangin?" he drawled in a pot affected voice. I gripped his hand in the customary handshake of the times. "Good to see you man!" I stated with enthusiasm. "How's Megs the muscle woman?" he inquired with interest. I expected Megan to arrive any minute from her five mile run. But, before I had a chance to answer, his glassy eyes grew wide with excitement. "Man, I got accepted to PSU at the last minute! I'm going in the fall!" He exclaimed with glee. Davis and I at PSU, look out coeds! He gave me enough pot for a few joints and we made plans to drive the three plus hours to PSU together. Megan walked in and when she saw Davis, embraced him. She was fond of Davis and fond of the weed he generously shared with us. "Hi Megs, how've you been." He asked with sincerity. Davis was the only friend she allowed to call her Megs. "Never better." She stated with positive energy. Davis was relating his PSU story when a buxom brunette came up behind him and put her arms around his skinny waist then rested her head on his back. "Hey Molly, you remember Megan and Poole?" He asked in a sweet voice. The unattractive and large breasted girl nodded in the affirmative but her eyes had the same glassy look as Davis'. After some brief chit chat, they left to attend a summer concert at the "A" Field. Davis had found his sexual teacher. Molly was the girl voted "Most Likely to Expose Herself At A Party" an honor she willing accepted. An insatiable cock hound, she was the go to girl for blow jobs at most of the parties. How she and Davis hooked up was a mystery. Via's Pizzeria was mobbed as usual but we managed to find a table in the back. Megan's face had a pensive and circumspect expression. "Poole, I need to talk to you about something." She stated in a serious tone. At that moment a group of rowdy patrons entered and the decibel level rose dramatically. It was impossible to have a conversation let alone an important one. After we ate, we drove to Megan's house and snuck into the 2nd floor of the garage. The entire time the look on her face showed deep concern. We sat on the floor facing each other and she was unusually quiet. "Poole, we start college in less than two weeks and..." her voice trailed off. I was staring at her waiting for her to go on when it hit me right between the eyes. "Megan, you don't have to say. I understand." I said with total honesty. It was impossible to maintain a relationship separated by the continental United States. Megan's head hung low and I saw tears forming in her eyes. "It doesn't change the fact that I love you." I stated with feeling. Megan hugged me with enough force to hurt my ribs and I felt her chest rise and fall in unison with her crying eyes. We were inseparable until Megan's departure for UCLA. On our last day together, the weather was picture perfect with blue skies and low humidity. Megan insisted on meeting me at Elmwood Park. We tossed a Frisbee, smoked some potent Thai stick and ate the picnic lunch she brought with her. It was an idyllic day that was the stuff memories are made of. The sun was low on the western horizon when I fired up a fresh bowl of weed. Several hits later, we were making out like it was our last night together; and at the time, it was. Megan ground her pelvis on my straining boner with frenzied intensity. I looked deep in her eyes and mouthed the words, I love you. She reacted by pulling me to my feet and walking hurriedly to her garage. Megan's garage was the base for all of our sexual exploration. The electric charge ignited by our kissing and grinding had reached a fever pitch. We practically ripped the clothes off each other and I ate Megan's sopping wet box with rabid intensity. She hooted and hollered her searing orgasm but she was just getting started. My cock was a throbbing hard mass when Megan spun around and planted her dripping wet snatch on my hungry mouth. As I zealously feasted on her savory slice, she swallowed my dick. Megan sucked my shwanze with unbelievable yearning. The sperm in my balls seethed and bubbled like molten lava until the floodgates were close bursting. Relentlessly, I devoured her juicy and mouthwatering pussy until it leaked tangy secretions. Her tart juices filled my senses and I greedily swallowed every drop. Megan yowled like a chorus of alley cats as an orgasm tore thru her heaving snatch. Unable to hold back any longer, my cock erupted. With my mouth pasted to her throbbing gash, I shot ropes of cum into her mouth. We rested side by side and lightly kissed. Megan had a shy look on her face that I found to be perplexing. "Poole, I want you." She declared with emotion. "I want you too." I blurted out with equal emotion but unsure of the true meaning. "No, I WANT YOU!" She stated with dramatic emphasis. Megan's gooey slit was grinding away at my limp cock when I grasped the meaning of her words. With blinding speed my dick hardened into a granite hard pulsing projectile. Megan assumed a sitting position and lowered her squishy box until it totally enveloped my angry cock. "Fuck me!" she bellowed demandingly. Megan rose up and impaled herself persistently and with unrelenting eagerness on my cock. As she pounded her engorged pussy, the internal muscles gripped my shaft in an unyielding embrace; only grudgingly releasing at the last second. The indescribable pleasure derived from her talented sex was beyond mere words. Panting like a madman, I palmed and rolled her stiff nipples with unquenchable desire. Now each drive downward went balls deep and copious secretions coated my nuts. Megan was huffing and puffing with rapid breaths. Her naked body shimmered with a coating of sweat that made her look even sexier. Megan increased the intensity and her butt resembled a piston in overdrive as it rose and fell with impressive speed. My mind reeled from the delirious pleasure she imparted to my cock. Megan bellowed a banshee like wail and her pussy contracted strongly around my cock. That triggered my orgasm and it exploded with volcanic force. As Megan's pussy kept powerfully convulsing, I emptied the contents of my nuts deep inside her. She gaped at me with a look of love that made my heart burst with emotion. We embraced and kissed, unable to let go. Megan had taken my cherry but the real surprise was about to be revealed. "Thanks!" I stated with eternal gratitude. Megan eyes fluttered with shyness and humility. "I took your virginity and you took mine!" She exclaimed with joy and tears bloomed in her eyes. For the first and not the last time, tears rolled down my cheeks in Megan's presence. Megan left for UCLA early the following morning and despite our pledge to write each other, I was depressed. It wasn't until Davis appeared with his bags packed that my mood lifted. Our first semester at PSU was a fun filled but demanding time. The plethora of hot and willing freshman girls boggled the mind. But, my devotion to Megan overrode any physical desire for another woman. During winter break, I saw very little of Megan because her family went on a month long vacation to visit relatives in Florida. The one and only opportunity that we had for sex, was subdued because it was her "time of the month." As we lay on the carpet in the upstairs room of the garage, Megan spoke with brutal honesty about our relationship. "Poole, don't sit around pining for me at PSU. I've met someone and I don't think I can be faithful. Have fun, remember, it's college. Enjoy the experience to the hilt." She said in a weepy voice and hugged me. Megan's words thrilled and saddened me at the same time. I suffered thru a strength sapping depression that lasted until I returned to PSU. Davis wholeheartedly agreed with Megan's advice and did his level best to cheer me up. But, it was Megan's letter that I received prior to spring break that infuriated me but freed me at the same time. In her letter Megan wrote gushingly about a guy on the track team who she was dating. I was crushed but vowed to take out my vengeance on any unsuspecting coed who I could seduce. Davis graciously saved me a spot in his car for the trip to Ft. Lauderdale and the mayhem of spring break. The week was a drunken and pot smoking orgy of fun and semi naked girls. It rejuvenated me and although I secretly pined for Megan, I pursued other women with a zealous need. By semesters end, I racked up quite a few casual encounters that culminated in sex. However, poor romantic fool that I was, I wanted to reconcile with Megan. My dreams were dashed when Megan arrived home from UCLA with a rugged and attractive guy on her arm. Through mutual friends, I learned that she was in a serious relationship with Mr. "Track Star". My father had secured a summer position for me with a construction firm at the Jersey shore. I wanted to stay as far away from Megan as possible and I accepted. For eight grueling weeks, I worked six and seven day shifts. There was little time and energy for beach going or girl chasing. I returned home with a nice bundle of cash but I wanted to let loose. Davis, my faithful friend, took charge of my social calendar and I partied heartily until it was college time. On the night before our departure, Davis and I were at Bobby's for yet another pool party when in walks Megan sans the track star. My greeting was friendly but cool and Megan gave me a cold stare. I avoided her but on the pool deck the sight of her in an ultra small bikini had my pecker swelling uncontrollably. I dove in the water to hide my predicament but it didn't go unnoticed by Megan and she followed me in. "How've you been?" she inquired sincerely. "Great" was my terse reply. For quite a while Megan chatted about her year at UCLA and the track star. Surprisingly, I enjoyed listening to her and realized what I suspected all along, I wasn't in her league. I was happy for her but also a little sad for myself. In the past year, I had met no one who appealed to me like Megan. At the end of the night, she pecked me on the cheek and we hugged as friends. It was almost another full year before I saw her again and her relationship with Damien, the track star had crashed and burned because of his infidelity. However, she had found someone else and was in love. My junior year at PSU turned topsy turvy when I met Dana. She was a slim and pretty coed with a sweet disposition. I romanced her in the hopes of getting into her jeans but in the process really fell for her. Dana was an education major with a semi hard body. While not as athletically hard bodied as Megan, it was very appealing. We dated exclusively and my feelings developed into love. Our love making was steamy and satisfying. While not the tireless dynamo that typified Megan, she had a healthy appetite for sex. Dana professed her love for me at the end of junior year and I purchased a pre-engagement ring with the money from the previous summers construction work. As I headed home for summer break, I counted the days until I would see her in Pittsburgh. Then, all hell broke loose. My summer construction job never materialized and I took a lower paying job at the swim club. My first day on the job and who do I see on the life guard stand, Megan. From my vantage point, Megan couldn't see me and I marveled at the changes in her body. Her form fitting one piece Speedo was molded to a much harder but very feminine body. Megan saw me cleaning one of the filters and greeted me with a hug and a peck on the cheek. All the old feelings and desires came flooding back. I loved her and I knew that I always would. It was true love for me. During break time, Megan recalled her failed relationships with men at UCLA. Then she hit me with a bombshell, she still harbored feelings of love for me. Not only was I in shock from her admission but it was the first time she vocalized her feelings for me. As the summer wore on, Megan and I rekindled the closeness that I so desperately missed the last several years. Although platonic in nature, if Megan wanted to take the next step, I would willingly cheat on Dana. In early august, I visited Dana in Pittsburgh and she greeted me in the warmest most loving fashion imaginable. As we drove to her house, she regaled me with stories about her camp counselor experience. Her folks were genuinely nice and friendly. An outdoor barbeque dinner awaited us and I enjoyed their company enormously. Dana and I drove to a nearby lake and spread a blanket on the ground. We were kissing passionately but my heart was heavy with confused emotions. Dana was instantly aware of the subtle difference in my mood. "Poole, is something bothering you?" She asked with concern. "No, of course not!" I declared a little too enthusiastically. I made a conscious effort to suppress my feelings for Megan and stripped Dana of her shorts and panties. I inhaled her feminine odor and buried my face in her lush blonde muff. With tenderness, I gently lapped Dana's moist folds and probed her runny hole. Her scent and fluids while decidedly female had a lighter odor and flavor than Megan's. I thoroughly enjoyed dining at her Y and it was our favorite activity. When the bugs started biting, we adjourned to her fathers Oldsmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon and I lifted her top off. Dana's breasts, while small, were soft, round and topped with tight pink nipples. I lovingly played with them for a long time. "Suck my tits!" she implored. When my mouth made contact with her boob, Dana groaned in short panting breaths and her hand dropped to her lap. My lips and tongue worked her nipples into little factories of sexual current as she vigorously strummed her slice. Dana was a sight to behold as she threw her head back and trumpeted her rousing orgasm. "Oh, that was wonderful." she purred like a kitten and embraced me with tenderness. My desire to please Dana was equally as strong as my desire to please Megan. This I was certain of. She gently pumped my rock hard cock until it erupted. Her stroking technique rivaled my own. As we lay facing one another, I gently ran my hands over her exquisite and velvety skin. My eyes eventually drifted down to her furry mound and if one could describe a girl's genitalia as pretty, then Dana's fit the bill. "Oh Poole, not again?" she growled sexily and opened her thighs for my descending head. For the remainder of the weekend, we indulged our sexual needs whenever we had a free moment to ourselves. I left Monday afternoon more confused than before. My first day back at the swim club, I watched as Megan taught basic swimming to a group seven year olds. The group of eight kids was totally enthralled by her charming demeanor. After closing, we sat by the club pool and Megan wanted to hear all about my trip to see Dana. I recounted everything but the sexual parts. We smoked a little pot and Megan got that serious and probing look on her face. "Poole, do you love her?" She asked with some sadness. "Yes" I answered softly. "Do you still have feelings for me?" she inquired with trepidation. "Yes, I love you" I stated with conviction. Megan turned and looked at me with eyes wide in wonder and disbelief. But, she knew instantly by the look on my face that I was telling the truth. Megan put her arm around me and pulled me close. I rested my head on her muscular shoulder and gloried in the wonderful sensation of closeness. Nothing happened that night but a sexual tension had returned that was missing since the summer of high school graduation. With only three weeks left before our respective return to college, I doubted we had time to relight the flames of a relationship. One very warm night found us in Megan's backyard, lying on our backs and staring at the stars. Suddenly, she was on her side facing me but I kept looking up at the night sky. "Please hold me." she asked very nicely. Megan lay on half of my body and rested her head on my chest. Instinctively, my hands lightly massaged the solid muscles on her back. "Hmm, that feels good" she sighed contentedly. When I kissed the top of Megan's head, she looked up at me with that predatory look I easily recognized. My feelings for Dana bubbled to the surface but were overridden by my true desire for the muscular maiden on top of me. When we started kissing, there was no stopping the rush of emotion. Life's Eternal Struggle Ch. 02 "I love you Megan!" I declared several times. "I love you too." She stated in a dreamy voice. Then I was enveloped in that all encompassing world of feeling and joy that was Megan. We rolled around on the blanket locked in a tight embrace; kissing with abandon. However, I was no longer the willing pupil but an equal. Maybe the separation and loss of the last two and a half years was necessary as a type of maturing process. With my heart thumping wildly in my chest, I realized I had tears in my eyes. When Megan saw my reaction, tears ran in tiny streams down her face. It was as though something precious had been lost but found and reclaimed. A torrid love affair developed that lasted until... I stood on Megan's porch and gazed at her with love. Her belongings were packed in suitcases awaiting her departure for UCLA. "I'll write; I promise!" she vowed with emotion. "I love you" She said with true feeling and I mouthed the same words in reply. Davis kept looking at my sad face as we drove west on the Pennsylvania Turnpike. "What the fuck is wrong with you man?" he asked with more anger than normal. In fact, Davis was by far the most mellow person that I knew. My mood must have really gotten to him to elicit that strong a reaction. "I'm afraid I'll get one those "Dear John" letters." I said in a melancholy way. "Fuck em all! Love em and leave em!" he yelled out loud. I burst out laughing as Davis' comments lifted my mood considerably. He rolled down the windows and together we broadcasted the same sentiment into the night air. My first week at PSU was barely over when I got my first letter from Megan and letters followed on a weekly basis. My heart would beat thunderously when I got one and read the contents. Megan usually described her classes and athletic meets. But, they always ended the same with the words "I love you" and many X's and O's. My relationship with Dana cooled considerably and like most women, she was intuitively and innately aware of the other woman. Our lovemaking lacked the spark that typified my visit in august and eventually, I refused to have sex with her at all. The tearful break up was difficult because I had loving feelings for her. But, by graduation, I saw her with a studly looking guy on her arm. When I saw Megan over winter break, we took up where we left off in September. She literally tore my clothes off the first night and jumped my bones like a jungle cat. After we both graduated in May, I took Megan to Elmwood Park for a picnic. As she leisurely ate an oversized cookie, I fumbled in my pocket for a small velvet box. I sat up on my haunches and gazed at her with love but nervousness. Megan was regarding me with suspicion. "Megan, ah, I love you." I blurted out. "Yes, I know" she answered with narrowed eyes. "I was wondering if you...ah, would you..." I stammered foolishly. "Spit it out already!" she implored. "Will you marry me?" I gushed like a love sick schoolboy. I opened the box and showed her the ring that I bought with the last remnants of savings I had from working summer jobs. Megan's eyes were awash with tears and she looked stunned. "I know it's not much..." before I finished, she grabbed me and held me tight to her body. "Yes, yes I will." She whispered in my ear; her voice choked with teary emotion. Megan and I married the following year. The day of the wedding, Davis gave me some last minute advice. "It's not too late man; we can be in Canada in about eight hours." He stated with seriousness. "No way! She's the best thing that ever happened to me." I said with love and emotion. Davis shook his head sadly. "Dum, dum, dum, another one bites the dust." He sang off key. As husband and wife we had a stable marriage but as with any long term relationship, there were bumps and potholes along the way. However, our love for one another never wavered and it sustained us thru the trials and tribulations. We shared a rich and satisfying sex life that ebbed and flowed. But, the desire for each other never left us. Our daughter Katherine or Kit was born and although we desired more children, miscarriages took an emotional toll on us. In a kind of irony, my first professional job was with UCLA in administration. Megan had excelled in sports there and was somewhat of legend. It made the transition to life in California that much easier. But, tragedy has a way of intruding in peoples lives. Megan had just celebrated her forty eighth birthday when we were invited to attend a informal swim party at her boss's home. We generally declined invitations connected with her employment but her boss had insisted. Megan worked for a large sporting goods company in promotions and after twenty three years, she wanted to resign and do volunteer work. At the party, Megan looked stunning in a bikini that very few women her age could have worn. Her body had a very tight, athletic and muscular appearance that looked years younger. Some of the signs of aging were present but she was pretty, vivacious and utterly charming. Stella, her boss, introduced us to Max Bendinger, a well known freelance photographer. "Have you ever considered modeling?" Max asked with a slight European accent. Megan blushed. "I did some for my job but I was still in my twenties." She stated factually. Max explained that quite a few publishers had shown interest in photo shoots of hot looking middle age women. The photos had to be tasteful with minimal nudity above the waist. In other words, the model would be asked to bare a breast or two. Max gave us his card and told us to check out his references. If Megan was interested, he would have to do some test shots first. But, if a major publication purchased any photos, it meant big money, over six figures. That night in the privacy of our bedroom, Megan demanded my complete honesty as she paraded her nude body in front of me. "You look good, no, damn good!" I exclaimed with enthusiasm. Megan was an advocate of physical fitness. Her workouts incorporated weight training and five mile runs to stay in peak condition. Her breasts had no sag and her lean frame showed no signs of cellulite or droopiness. If anything, her skin showed some signs of aging as the suppleness of youth had vanished. The sight of her nude body, even after twenty three years of marriage, inflamed my lust and we screwed like two teenagers until exhaustion set in. We extensively researched Max's references and were pleased to hear that he was the consummate professional. I insisted that it was Megan's decision and she had to be comfortable with the situation. It would require her resignation from her current job but that was the easiest part. With some reluctance Megan agreed to the test shoot but admitted it was the allure of the money that attracted her the most. "Hon, you can retire early." She said in a loving voice. Max invited me to the test shoot which lasted over ten hours. The proper lighting, angles, wardrobe and make up took up the bulk of the time. Megan had to bare her breasts for some shots. As Max took multiple exposures, his assistant commented to me; "Your wife has sexy and firm breasts." She intimated in a lilting French accent. I'm sure I blushed. Max deemed the test shots successful and the only remaining problem was scheduling the first photo shoot. He preferred the beaches of Thailand because of the exotic locale and look. The only week available on his calendar was Christmas week, barely a month away. Because we considered it a golden opportunity, we readily agreed to the date and location. The night before Megan left, we made passionate love. It was the first Christmas we would spend apart in our entire marriage. On Christmas Day, Megan called from Thailand. She said that Max had found the perfect location on a deserted stretch of beach about twenty miles south. They were leaving before sunrise to take advantage of the morning sun. It was the last time I spoke to her. The following day, I heard Kit scream in the family room. She was watching news coverage of the devastating Tsunami that hit the countries in the Indian Ocean region, one of which was Thailand. The date was December 26th 2004. My heart sank to my knees and although a part of me was optimistic about Megan's survival, I knew otherwise. I spent a month in Thailand looking and hoping until her body was recovered and identified thru dental records. Max's body and his assistant, Babette were never found. Some of his equipment was recovered but the authorities speculated that they had been washed out to sea when the waters retreated. I quit my job at the University and grieved alone. My one true love, the person I planned on growing old with, was gone. Postscript: I finished my introductory workout and thanked the exercise tech. In the lobby, Ray's dejected expression remained unchanged but an idea took shape in my mind. I knew a sure fire way to loosen up his sphincter. On the way home, I made Ray stop at Baron's Tavern; a local favorite for good food, booze and friendly conversation, Ray balked at the idea of spending money on frivolities. "I'm buying, now lets go in!" I demanded. With sighs and resignation, Ray followed me and we sat at the bar. He liked beer and I ordered pints of the best draft on tap. The multiple plasma TV's with every sporting event imaginable grabbed his attention. Ray was clueless as to the cost because the bartender kept a running tab. I ordered roast beef sandwiches, a tavern specialty. As we ate, the bartender refilled our glasses without prompting. After the fourth or fifth refill, Ray was pleasantly loopy and his speech a little slurred. He asked about Megan because of the photos he had seen in Kit's home. I related the happy and tragic story of our marriage. When I ended the story Ray put his arm around my shoulder in sympathy. It was a magnanimous gesture that really impressed me. By now, he was well into his ninth pint of draft. I helped Ray to the car and commandeered the keys. He was singing an unrecognizable song in a slurred voice when he stopped and patted me on the back. "You're my friend." He stated in boozy but honest voice. I was pleased with myself; I had brought the stiff back from the valley of gloom. As I pulled into the driveway at Kit's house, Ray had a concerned expression on his slack face. "I'm in for it now. Mother won't understand." He declared with fear and worry. I detested hearing grown men refer to their wife as "mother." "I had a good time with my new friend." He bellowed drunkenly and launched into some country western ballad. With my arm supporting his weight, Ray shuffled up the front walk. "Oh, how much was the bill." He asked in a wheezy whisper. "Only ten dollars!" I replied, lying thru my teeth. "Really? We have to back there tomorrow!" He said with yearning and gave me a conspiratorial wink. Nothing appealed to him more than a bargain. "Of course we will." I said in total agreement with his request. Just then the front door opened. Kit and Mrs. "White Bread" gaped at us in astonishment. "What's wrong with Ray?" Kit asked me with an angry scowl. The question needed no answer on my part. "Raymond Pennington!" His wife declared loudly. "I want to introduce my new friend. Everyone say hello to Art Poole." He stated in an alcohol soaked voice. As I helped Ray up the steps, Kit's scowl turned to a smile. I had found the middle ground that would help me survive my time with hers, the Pennington's. As Ray broke into yet another cowboy ballad, Mrs. Pennington took over and helped Ray thru the front door. Kit took my arm and regarded me with love. "New friend indeed." She said sarcastically and playfully poked me in the stomach.