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The Old Man

By: rjohnson



I met him in the trees. It was a very secluded area with narrow pathways and hidden alcoves right in the middle of town. He was older, maybe in his sixties and walked with a cane and a slight limp. His face was weathered and had a small growth of beard, maybe two days old. I was most surprised to see him in the surroundings and more surprised when he walked over to me and put his hand on my crotch, rubbing it gently in his large palms. 

He continued rubbing for a minute and then motioned me to follow him further into the trees, which I did almost in a trance, thinking that I was going to make love to this older man. He stopped finally and turned around to face me as I entered the alcove he had selected. There were no words spoken between us as he leaned over and put his cane down. He opened his arms and I moved into them as he wrapped them around me, holding me to him in an almost desperate hug. I stood there for a minute in his bear hug and then leaned back to look at his face. He looked me right in the eyes and then leaned down to kiss me gently on the lips. It was a small kiss, more of a peck but his lips were smooth and soft. 

As he leaned back to look at me, I'm sure he was looking for a sign from me and without hesitation I leaned into him again and sought out his mouth with mine and we kissed more passionately. When I felt his tongue probing my lips, I opened my mouth wider and accepted his tongue in my mouth, gently sucking on it as he explored my mouth. I used my tongue to dart in and out of his mouth as he continued to kiss me and at the same time, rub my crotch gently with his big hands. I was hard in an instant and I felt him lowering the zipper on my jeans. He was very adept at it and soon had his big hand wrapped around my cock, gently pulling on it and rubbing his hand up and down its length. As if he knew I was close to coming, he stopped kissing me and leaned over to take my cock in his mouth. 

He swirled his tongue around the head and gently sucked my entire length into his mouth, sucking on it as if it was candy. He slowly sucked on my hard cock and pumped his mouth up and down it's length until he had me on the verge of coming again. He then stood up and started rubbing my cock with his hand again as he leaned into me and kissed me on the lips. It was very erotic the way he did everything and he was so gent for such a big man.

He continued to kiss me for a moment and the leaned back, taking his hand off my cock. He said he wanted to taste my seed and with that he leaned over again, taking my cock into his mouth again. He sucked harder this time and I came in his mouth, gushing my come into him as he swallowed and swallowed to get it all. After I was finished, he stood up again and kissed me, shoving his come covered tongue into my mouth, forcing me to swallow the bit of come he had on his tongue. I swallowed and tasted myself on his tongue as he explored my mouth again. I knew I wanted to taste him too so I pulled back far enough that I could reach his zipper and slowly pulled it down. I reached inside his pants and pulled out his cock very gently as it was hard and erect. It was like the rest of him, huge and cut.

The head was beautiful and full and the length was at least 9 inches as I had trouble wrapping my hand around it. I knew that I needed him in my mouth so I slowly leaned over and took his whole length into my mouth. I slowly swirled my tongue around his head and up and down it's length as I gently sucked on it. He was moaning now, almost whimpering, as I continued to bring him to organism. I took his cock out of my mouth so I could kneel down in front of him. After I did, I leaned into him again and took his length in my mouth. I started to pump up and down on him as he moaned. I leaned back a little and told him to fuck my face and he started to thrust his cock in and out of my mouth as he held onto my head as if he were guiding his cock to its target. He pumped into me for a few minutes and then his legs started to shake and I knew that I would be feeling his come on my tongue at any time. 

When he came, he gushed a full load into my mouth, filling it with his cock becoming slippery and throbbing. He pumped four loads into my mouth and I swallowed as fast as I could because I didn't want to lose any of the liquid. He cried out in pleasure as he came and held my head tight against him as he filled my mouth. He finally finished and I stood up, leaning towards him to kiss him and probe with my, now come covered tongue. 

He whimpered again as I shoved my tongue into his mouth as far as I could, forcing him to swallow his come as I did. We stood there for a few minutes, kissing and sucking tongues until he leaned back and looked at me. He wiped the bit of come I had in the corners of my mouth off with his fingers and sucked them into his mouth. He continued sucking on his fingers until he seemed satisfied that all the come was off them. We finished and slowly did ourselves up and then he spoke, asking me if I was interested in meeting him again. I quickly agreed and we made plans for the next time but it wouldn't be in the trees but at his place.

I watched him as he walked away, my mind in a spin, thinking about the next time we would be together. It was only the next night when I was driving by the woods and I spotted him. He smiled when he saw me and motioned for me to follow him. He drove slowly enough that I was able to keep up with him easily and we soon arrived at a home not far from the woods. He pulled into the driveway and motioned for me to park on the street, which I did. I got out of the car and went around the back of the house, meeting him at the end of the driveway. He gave me a hug and a kiss and led me into the house. He led me directly to a back room that was more of a den than anything else but there was a bed in it and several soft couches and chairs. He told me to take off my coat as he did and he approached me again. 

He wrapped his arms around me and we began to kiss, exploring each other's mouths with our tongues. We didn't kiss very long as I wanted to feel his big cock in my mouth again so I moved out of his embrace and reached for his clothes, taking them off quickly yet hesitantly. He had a great body, firm abs, strong legs and a firm, rounded ass. His cock was hard and jutting out from his groin as I gently lowered his shorts. I leaned towards his cock to lick at it but he stopped me and told me to undress too. I quickly did and we stood looking at each other, our erections sticking out towards each other. We embraced again and I felt his hard cock slide between my legs and rub against my balls. I kissed him again and rubbed my legs together around his huge cock. It felt like he was inside me as we kissed and moved against each other.

He broke our embrace and went over to the bed, pulling the covers down to the foot of it and getting on it on his back with his erection sticking straight up in the air. I slowly walked over to him and wrapped my hand around his shaft, slowly rubbing up and down its length. He whimpered again as I felt all along his length, feeling the hardness and the veins sticking out all along him. I slowly leaned over and took him into my mouth and pumped up and down his length, swirling my tongue around him, licking and kissing his head. He was writhing underneath me as I brought him to a quick climax. He again filled my mouth with his come and I swallowed it and kept sucking on him until he started to grow soft. I took his cock out of my mouth and moved up to him, seeking his mouth with mine. I lay on top of him as we kissed and caressed each other for a minute. He then rolled me over on my back and engulfed my erection in his mouth. It wasn't long before I was coming in his mouth as he sucked every drop out of me and finally, as I started to soften, took my cock out of his mouth, giving it a gentle kiss as a last reminder or as a prelude of further action. He came up to me and kissed me again and we settled into a gent hug and lay there, holding each other, softly caressing each other. 

After a while, he looked at me and as I was starting to get hard again, reached for my cock with his big hand. He slowly and gently ran his hand up and down my length, caressing my balls as he did. I was hard in a minute and he leaned over to kiss my head. He then got to his hands and knees and told me to fuck him. I quickly got behind him and parted his cheeks. I found myself looking as a brown spot that looked well used and I reached up to run my fingers up and down his ass crack and caress his hole. He moaned softly as I inserted a finger inside his canal and slowly pumped it in and out of him. I then moved up and rubbed my erection against his spot as he pushed back against me. Without hesitation, I slowly started to enter him. He moaned loudly as he felt my cock entering his ass and he pushed back against me again, helping me get my swollen cock into him.

Soon, I was in him my entire length, my balls resting against his ass cheeks. I stopped there for a few seconds, feeling his warmth and tightness around my cock. He pushed back again and told me to fuck him hard so I started to slowly pump in and out of him, speeding up until I was thrusting in and out as hard as I could. He stopped me and told me he wanted to change positions so I reluctantly, pulled my cock out of him and waited until he moved onto his back, raising his legs over his head, giving me access to him again. I quickly reentered him and started thrusting in and out harder. It didn't take long for me to come inside him and I gushed my seed into him as I came like I had before. I continued pumping until I was finished coming and pulled out of him slowly. My cock came out of his ass with a slight pop and my come started running out of him and down his legs. I quickly leaned forward and lapped at the come on him. I licked all the way up his legs to his hole and licked around it as come was still exiting his canal. I stuck my tongue inside him and tried to get as much of my come out of him as I could. He finally collapsed on the bed on his face, a slight grin on his face. When he rolled over, his erection was sticking straight up in the air and he was panting.

I knew I wanted him inside me so I moved over him and slowly lowered myself onto his huge, hard cock. He entered me and I groaned in pain and pleasure. He felt so big inside my ass and I could feel his head pushing against the end of my canal as I lowered myself on him. I told him to lie still and that I would do all the work as I slowly started to pump up and down on him. He reached up and grabbed my shoulders, helping me move up and down his entire length. 

He came suddenly, spurting his seed into me as I lowered my self so his entire length was inside me. The warmth of his come spurting up into me was sensual and erotic as I felt his cock twitch each time he came. I slowly raised myself off him and offered him my ass, which he quickly started licking and sucking on, tasting himself on me. He cleaned my ass off with his mouth and I moved back into his arms again, more to rest than anything. 

We fucked and sucked each other for a few more hours until I had to leave. We have since had many sessions together and we don't go to the woods anymore as we have each other to pleasure. I have had sex with a few of his friends too but we spend most of our time together alone and enjoy each other's body to the utmost.

The Old Man



He was a lonely man who had spent his life with but one woman. That woman had been in the hospital for the last ten plus months and her prognosis had been poor. He had recently begun looking for things to occupy his mind when he was not at the hospital. He's an engineer, and always been a good one. He had a hobby making small electrically powered robot vehicles. He'd done most types of these small robots: wheeled vehicles, track driven vehicles, model airplanes, walkers, arthropods, and even a blimp once. The models had been controlled using infrared and visible light beams, radio frequencies, tethered wiring, and semi-autonomous micro-controller units with sensors operating in response to a programmed sequence of instructions. He preferred tracked, micro-controller driven units.

Lately, he had been losing interest in his hobby and been looking for something else. By sheer happenstance he came across a web site that published various art. Specifically, its principle focus was on erotic art with an apparent emphasis on written works.

He'd always been facile with the written word, but it'd usually been with operating, instruction, installation, or maintenance manuals for complex machines. He read several of the published pieces and his mind told him that he too could write such stories. This night he began with such an erotic piece.

When he'd finished, he became a writer and joined the clientel of this erotic web site, in order to publish it. It was then that he found publishng was not an instantaneous thing, the owners of the site chose to review each submittal before actually posting them. The estimated time from submittal to acceptance, or rejection, was estimated on the site to be three to five days. He submitted his piece.

Now came the long wait. To occupy his agile mind, he began once more to read other's stories. The site was vast, but fortunately the owner's had a database that allowed separate review of the latest accepted pieces. It was during his review of these latest that one story caught his eye. He looked up the author and found that there was a short biography. This biography was of a mature, divorced woman with children. A picture was attached that made her look like a seasoned writer. She was Blond haired, with blue eyes, and a large appearing woman with a jaunty hat perched on her head.

He was intrigued and used the anonymous calling feature of the site to send her a short note. He observed that an anonymous message would not provide a response, so he attached his new pen name. She probably wouldn't respond anyway. His message referred to her story and to her bio. The bio indicated that she was into BDSM. He was not and stated this fact.

Amazingly, she responded to his message in a likewise terse manner, but indicated that she'd deleted the reference to BDSM in her bio. He'd not intended for anyone to change a personal preference based on anything he'd said. However, her action intrigued him more. He wrote back that change was not his intent in writing. Again she responded, but this time the address line showed an actual email addrerss and not the anonymous source address. Again he wrote back, and again she responded.

From his point of view, her notes were always terse, he'd have preferred a more lengthy discourse. She and he both had written more by this time and submitted their stories for publication. At last, he too, was published. The story didn't read this time as well as it had in his own mind - - but it was a start. He asked her real first name and again she responded and provided it. They discussed their erotic stories and talked candidly about them for a short time. At one point he asked about her picture and asked if he could have an additional picture. He was also brazen enough to tell her that he'd like an erotic picture to go with her erotic story. He asked if she ever used an Instant Messenger program.

She responded that she used it often and was currently on line. He asked for her buddy name and asked if it would be okay to talk in real time. She gave him the name and in a short time they were talking.

They rehashed much of their early notes and somewhere he again mentioned the lack of a good picture of her. She indicated that she wasn't sure where her camera was, but might look for it later. Their discussions became longer, and they each learned more about the other.

She had three children living with her and had lost a fourth. The loss was tragic for her and her husband. Eventually they separated and divorced. She also enjoyed online role-playing games, and frequently volunteered as a kind of advisor to them.

One day in the middle of their discourse, she had sent him a message requesting an open connection and the messenger program asked him if he'd like to do that. Not knowing what that meant, he responded with an okay. Soon, he was downloading something from her. What could it be? He waited minutes before finally the transmission was complete and a new one started.

He stared astounded. Could it be? Indeed it was. He wrote back asking if it was her and she responded back with an emphatic yes.

It was a picture of her pussy and showed an enlarged and extended clit staring at him. The second picture was from a slightly different perspective of the same subject. next was a photo of one breast being held out to the camera. I asked for a picture of her face and two more appeared. One showed a slight smile and those definitely blue eyes. Now he was in awe of her appearance and her boldness. He was so astounded that he didn't write back immediately. He was drooling noticeably.

When he finally moved from the pictures to the message she'd written it indicated that she didn't know what had come over her and that now she wanted to dig a hole and pull it in after her. He couldn't allow that. He thanked her profusely, told her of the drooling and how he wanted to save them to his computer drive. Disaster, when he started to return to the photos, the messenger program failed and they were lost. 

When he had finally rebooted and gotten back online, she was still waiting there for him. When he told her what happened, she'd asked if he really liked them. When he affirmed this, she said that she could resend them and could do it through email so that they wouldn't get lost again. He begged her to do it, and when they arrived he used his Windows program to make them into background wallpaper for his machine -- after all he lived alone these days and no one else would see them. He could enjoy them even when she was offline.

Their message time increased continually to the point where they spent hours on line. An annoying part of each message was what appeared to him an interminable lag between his message and her return. He devised a way to test whether it was the machine and connection that caused the delay. The total round trip delay he measured at about 15 seconds. She said that she was just slow, but admitted that she answered many emails each day and also had other messenger buddies.

He concluded that she was busy with other things, and suffered. A series of things happened after that. Perhaps the newness was wearing thin, or they'd begun taking each other as granted. Regardless, she seemed to grow more impatient with him and occasionally very gruff. He tried to appease her, telling her that everything was okay, and trying to draw her thoughts and feelings into the open. She was always reserved, but eventually opened up a bit to him. Then came the day when she was continually terse with him. When he asked about it she said that it was her grumpy day. He tried to talk and cajole her into a happier mood. Finally, in exaspiration, she told him that she had a right to be grumpy and have a grumpy day. He'd agreed but things rapidly deteriorated until finally he'd thanked her for her time and told her he was signing off and would login again tomorrow. He also indicated that he hoped tomorrow would bring a better day for her.

After he signed off, he continued to watch the screen and immediately a message appeared that she was no longer available and had exited the messenger.

He visited his wife in the hospital every day, sometimes twice a day. A standard day would always find him there after he'd showered at five fifteen each afternoon, and until nine o'clock each night.

They would usually talk on line again after he got home. This night when he got home, he checked his email and found a message from her that seemed to indicate that she was breaking off the relationship. He too, began to rethink what he'd been doing. Subconsciously, he'd been feeling guilty about what he'd been doing, and now those feelings emerged into the open. What was he doing?

The next morning he was awake and online well before she was awake. He penned a message supporting her decision and told her in all honesty of what he'd been feeling. He told her what a great person she was and a friend. He even told her a few things that he'd not confided before. He was planning to change his email address and not bother her further. He was hoping that she'd take the message in the totally grateful and friendly manner that it was intended. He sent it off.

She later returned an extremely terse and sarcastic note about what she'd read into his message. A second message later, indicated a slight remorse. A third seemed to say she wanted to continue. Finally a message came stating that she too, was deleting his previous emails and the photos that he'd sent her and might delete her account on the erotic story site.

Though he'd promised not to answer further messages from her, this was too much. She was a talented writer and he was looking forward to an occasional story from her. His response was an instant email asking her not to drop the the erotic site.

Life goes on -- or does it?



The Old Man



Monday was cool and sunny, with a slight breeze that carried the scent and promise of early autumn. Jack Williams eased his 73-year-old body down on his accustomed bench in the small park downtown and opened his book. He liked this spot under a big oak tree whose leaves had just begun to show signs of changing color. The fresh air was nice and it was shady and cool during the summer. In the spring and autumn the sun angle was just right to give a little warmth. It gave him a place to ponder his life and those other things that needed pondering. He'd just settled into his read when a shadow fell across the page. He looked up and saw a pretty young woman looking at him.

"Would you mind if I shared your bench," she asked in a soft voice.

"I'd be delighted to share with you, Miss." He stood up and gestured to the bench. "Please join me."

"I didn't want to interrupt your reading." She sat down and crossed her legs.

Jack smiled at her. "You're not disturbing me in the least. This is just my thinking place." He resumed his place at the other end of the bench.

She looked at him quizzically. "Your 'thinking place'?"

"I just come here to read and think, if it becomes absolutely indispensable for me to think."

She looked at him for a moment, then laughed softly. The twinkle in his eye gave him away. "You don't like to think?"

"I find it a chore and it sometimes dredges up memories that I'd rather not deal with. Especially on such a nice day." He smiled at her. "Especially in the presence of such a charming young lady."

She blushed. "My name is Dana Raffelli." She held a hand out to him.

"I'm Jack Williams," he said, taking her soft hand and squeezing gently. He released her hand and looked at her a little more closely. She was indeed pretty, with auburn hair and eyes that defied description. A strange mix of hazel and grey, almond shaped, with long lashes. He held out a paper bag to her. "Care for a chocolate chip cookie?"

"Oh, thank you." She took one and bit into it. "Delicious. Does your wife bake them for you?"

"She used to. She died about a year ago." He looked away for a moment.

"I'm sorry about your wife." She touched his hand gently.

"Thanks, but it's all right. I'm used to it now. So, now I bake them for myself. Looks like they're pretty good bait, too."

She looked at him. "Bait?"

"I caught you, didn't I?" He looked at her and smiled.

She decided he was much nicer looking when he smiled. It helped to change the lines in his face. She smiled back at him. "Very tasty bait."

"Thanks." He put the bag down on the bench between them. "Just help yourself. I got plenty more at home. Once I get started, it's hard to stop."

She laughed softly. Jack liked the sound of her laugh. He liked the way her nose wrinkled and her eyes flashed. He sighed within himself, wishing he were her age. He could get interested in her very easily, but the difference in their ages would make that impractical. At 73, he was a little old for her, but it certainly didn't stop him from dreaming and wishing. 

His own perception of himself was that Time had taken him into an alley and beat the shit out of him. His face was lined and puffy, and somewhat colorless. He was losing his hair, which, by now, was all gray. Oh, well, at least he'd be spared the burden of trying to woo and win a girl and fend off the competition. He'd never been good at that.

Sometimes the nights were lonely. Sometimes the only pleasant company was his good old right hand, and even then his stiffy was iffy. But, more often than not, it got the job done. It was a good release and brought back memories from happier times.

"Do you come here every day?" Her hand was on his arm. It felt wonderful.

"Yes, just about every day unless it's raining or snowing. Then I stay home and enjoy the fire."

She stood up. "Well, I have to get back to work. It was nice meeting you, Jack. Maybe I'll see you here again."

"I'd like that, Dana. It was nice talking to you." He stood and took her hand again. "You're a very nice person. They're getting fewer and farther between." He let her hand go, but she seemed reluctant to release his.

"I know what you mean." She finally let his hand go. "Until the next time, then." She turned and walked off toward the street.

He watched her walk away. She does have nice legs, he thought. She was such a charming young woman. He wondered idly who was the lucky guy that was keeping company with her. How could anyone resist those eyes?

They met again the next day and chatted for the duration of her lunch hour. She had brought a sandwich and some fruit. Jack had more cookies and a container of milk. They shared their food and talked about nothing in particular. She seemed to enjoy his company, for which he was grateful, not so much for the company as for the opportunity to spend an hour with such a lovely young woman.

It continued for the next several weeks. They would sit, chatting amiably and learning more and more about each other until that fateful Friday when she didn't show up. Jack wondered if she was ill, or just didn't care to have any further meetings with him. He was disappointed. She filled a void in his life that he was reluctant to leave empty. He looked around for a bit, then decided to finish his book. When he'd finished reading he stood up and put his trash in the bin, looked around one last time, then started for home.

Suddenly, "Jack, wait a minute!"

He turned and saw her running toward him. His heart leaped. "Hi, Dana. I was just leaving. I missed you at noon."

"I'm too late, then." She looked genuinely disappointed.

"Not at all, Dana. I didn't think you were coming, so I finished my book. I didn't see any point hanging around any longer, but now that you're here, let's sit." He noticed that her smile was a little forced, and there was evidence of tears on her cheeks.

She looked at him with those lovely eyes. "I'm so glad I caught you. I could use a friend right now."

"Hey, what's the problem?" He saw that she was ready to break down. He put his hand on her arm and squeezed it gently. "Care to talk about it?"

She did break out into tears. She lowered her head and sobbed disconsolately.

"Come on, Dana. Put your head on my shoulder and let it out." He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to him. She didn't resist him and her head fell to his shoulder. Her sobs tore at his heart.

"I lost my job today." She told him the story between sobs. "My boss started making advances to me, and I just lost it and slapped his face as hard as I could."

Jack held her close, trying not to get too familiar with her. She just continued sobbing. He gave her his handkerchief and let her clean up a little.

"Want to talk about it?"

"I'm glad I'm out of there. I need the job, but not that badly. God! What a pig that man is!"

"Maybe you should file a harassment suit against him." He gave her a little squeeze.

She leaned against him. "No, I'm just glad to get away from him and his constantly horny buddies. I can find another job."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He looked at her, hoping she'd say yes.

"No. Well, I did have one, but he did the same thing to me. He demanded it as though it were his right and my duty. Isn't there anyone in this world who doesn't have sex on his mind?" More sobs, more tears.

Jack felt so sorry for her. He wished he could offer her some comfort. He looked at his watch. "Coming up 5 p.m. How about if I buy you dinner? There's a nice little place not far from here."

She looked up at him, and smiled. "That's so nice of you. I'm certainly in no mood to cook."

He stood up and held his hand out to her. She took it and they headed to the restaurant. They were fortunate enough to get a table right away. He helped her off with her coat and they ordered.

"Some wine with dinner, Dana?"

"Yes, I'd love some. Something red?"

"Just so. You just need some hot food and a little wine and you'll feel a lot better."

"I already feel better being with you, Jack."

"Nobody needs problems. There's no reason that a charming young woman like you should have such unhappiness. I'm just trying to cheer you up a little."

"Oh, Jack. You've cheered me up a lot already." She reached across the table and put her hand on his. "You're a good friend and a good person." 

When the wine arrived he poured for her and lifted his glass. "To better times."

She smiled and touched her glass to his. "Right now, these are better times."

They sipped, completing the toast. Jack studied her. She seemed to have relaxed a little, losing the tension in her shoulders. "So, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"

"I'm going to take the day off." She suddenly giggled. "Tomorrow's Saturday. Of course I'm going to take the day off." Then she laughed heartily. "Damn, I feel so much better, now. Jack, you're a wonder."

"Hardly. I'm just an old retired fart who was lucky enough to be here at the right time to lend you a hand."

"And a shoulder and a hanky and a meal. Since I've met you, you've done all the giving and I've done all the taking."

"Nonsense. You've given me your company and your charm and you've brightened up an old man's life. I certainly couldn't ask for more than that."

She studied his face. She saw only kindness in his eyes. "Jack, would you mind telling me how old you are? I'm just curious."

"I'm 73. Be 74 next October."

"You must have seen a lot in your lifetime." She regarded him over the rim of her glass.

"Yeah, I guess I've seen a lot of interesting stuff. Man on the moon, the internet and all the other pointless crap that mankind is capable of inflicting on himself." He looked at her eyes, those incredible eyes. "Sorry. I guess my cynicism is showing. A concomitant of age."

"I'll bet you've led an interesting life."

"Only if you look at it with a clinical eye. It's actually been rather pedestrian. A couple of hitches in the Air Force during the Cold War, the rest working in the electronics industry in one capacity or another. Then, finally, the culmination of my life. Retirement. Blessed retirement."

"You don't feel lost or at odds? I hear all these stories that when men retire, they go to pieces in a couple of years."

"Don't you believe it. I was never one of those driven individuals. I just took it as it came, did my time in the barrel and got out as soon as I felt I could afford it." He took a quick gulp of his wine as their meal arrived. "Best thing that ever happened to me. I just love it. Been retired for nine years and I don't feel lost or ignored or anything else. I was born for this."

Dana chuckled. "I get the distinct impression that you're enjoying life."

"That I am. When I first retired, I'd get up early and sit by the window and thumb my nose at all the poor souls commuting to work." That delightful laugh of hers again. "The oddest thing is that when I drive anywhere, the traffic doesn't bother me at all, because I don't have to be anywhere at any particular time. My stomach has been remarkably pain-free, too, from not being tied up in knots."

Dana laughed again. "Maybe I should just retire, too. Sounds like the idyllic life,."

"It is. Well, most of the time. Sometimes it can get a little lonely."

"Don't you have friends?" She seemed genuinely concerned.

"Sure. I have you for a friend." He smiled at her slight blush.

"Yes, you do, Jack. But what about people your own age?"

"Well, I don't care much for old people. Too mired in the past. I like to see what's over the horizon. That's the one aspect of death that I don't like. I'll miss all the things that will happen in the future. I don't fear death, I resent it."

The food arrived at that moment. They spent the next few minutes with salt and pepper and preparing to eat, then eating mostly in silence. When they finished, Jack took care of the bill, and they headed back to the park.

"What about younger people?" Dana walked beside him, holding his arm lightly. "Do you have any younger friends?"

"No. They have enough on their plates without me slowing them down."

"I'm young, and you're not slowing me down. In fact, I'm having a time keeping up with you."

"Oh, sorry. I've always been a fast walker." They reached "their" bench and sat down in the darkening evening.

Dana turned to him. She took his hands in hers. "Jack, would you have dinner with me tomorrow night? I'd love to cook you a nice meal."

"Why, I'd like that, Dana. That would be very nice. Are you sure it wouldn't be a bother?" His heart beat a little faster.

"No bother at all, especially for a good friend." She rummaged around in her purse and found a piece of paper. She wrote her name, address and phone number on it and handed it to him. "How about 6:30?"

"Sure, I know where this is. Six-thirty tomorrow night. I'll be there and I'll bring the wine."

"Just make sure you bring you. That's the most important thing." It was Jack's turn to blush. He was glad she couldn't see his face. The blush got worse when she leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek.

She stood and held both hands out to him. "Well, Jack, I'll be expecting you."

"Oh, I'll be there. I'd be a fool to turn down a home-cooked meal, especially one prepared by such an enchanting young woman."

"You're a shameless flatterer." Another quick peck on the cheek and she was off.

Jack watched her walk away, his heart beating a little faster.

The next evening, he showered and dressed casually in slacks and a light flannel shirt in deference to the cool evening. He wanted her to see the real person, not some fake. He gathered up the wine, went out to his car and drove to Dana's home.

"Ooooh, Jack, please come in." She greeted him with a big smile and a quick kiss. "I'm so glad you could make it." She was dressed in navy slacks and a light blue blouse.

"Dana, it smells wonderful in here. It's been a while since I smelled anything this good." He handed her the wine and followed her into the kitchen.

She put the wine down on the table and got out a corkscrew. "Please sit down, Jack. It's almost ready. Would you open the wine, please?"

He opened a bottle and sat at the table. "What is that lovely smell?"

She smiled at him. Those eyes and that crinkled nose got to him again. "I hope you like Italian cooking. It's chicken saltimbocca."

"Oh, I love that. It's one of my favorite meals."

"Then I guessed the right thing to cook. If you'll pour the wine, I'll plate it up and we can eat."

Jack poured the wine and realized his mouth was watering. In the light and inside, he got a better look at her. She was even lovelier than he remembered. She had a very nice figure, with high breasts and a trim waist. The slacks she wore complimented her slender hips and delightfully curved behind.

Dana went into the kitchen and returned with their plates. Jack held her chair for her as she sat down. She raised her glass. "To a pleasant evening with a good and pleasant friend."

"Very nice toast, and the same to you." They both sipped their wine, then dug into the food.

"Dana, this is delicious," he said after a mouthful of the chicken. "The sauce is perfect."

"Why, thank you, Jack. I'm glad you like it." 

They ate quickly, not because of hunger but because the meal was truly delicious and couldn't be denied further.

She opened the second bottle of wine and brought it with her as they moved to the living room.

"Dana, that was the best meal I've had in a very long time. You're a wonderful cook."

"It's nice to know someone appreciates my efforts." She leaned toward him and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Jack blushed and felt a vaguely familiar stirring in his loins. His heart started to go into overdrive. He wanted so much to take her in his arms and do unspeakable things to her body.

"Wow," he said softly. "It's been a while since I felt something like that."

She put her hand on his cheek. It felt so soft and smooth and cool. "You're a sweet man, Jack."

He couldn't pull himself out of those bottomless pools that were her eyes. In spite of himself, he just kept staring into her eyes. "You're a beautiful woman, Dana." His voice was slightly shaky, his mouth was dry. "Your eyes won't let me go."

She shifted toward him again and kissed him. This time deeper, longer and with more meaning. When she pulled back, Jack just stayed where he was, his eyes closed, his heart racing.

"Hey, you," she said softly. "Are you okay?"

He was finally able to speak. "Okay doesn't begin to describe it. That was wonderful. It's been so long..."

"Don't say anything, Jack. It's been a long time for me, too. I don't ever remember knowing a man so sweet, unassuming and considerate as you." She moved close to him, her breasts now palpable against his chest. She looked deeply into his eyes. "I can't help myself, Jack, I love you."

Jack was thunderstruck. He could only stare into her eyes. They drew him in deeper and deeper. "My god, Dana. We've only known each other for a few weeks. How can you feel that way about me?" His heart pounded. He felt dizzy and somewhat disoriented.

"I feel that way because you affect me that way. I won't attempt to explain it because I don't fully understand it myself. But I won't question it. It's too comfortable. It's too natural, as though it's ordained." She kissed him again. This time, there was no tentativeness about it. She bored in to him, her tongue seeking his soul.

Jack was further confounded by a definite stirring in his loins. His cock began to stiffen. He was overwhelmed by his feelings. Never before in his life had he experienced anything like this.

He pulled back from the kiss, his breathing deep and uneven. "Dana, I don't know what to say. This is...well, surreal."

"Why do you say that, Jack? Do you not want my love?" Her eyes, those lovely eyes, began to fill with tears.

Jack put his hands on her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. "Dana, of course I want your love. I welcome it, but I'm fifty years older than you..."

She interrupted him. "I'm not worried in the least about that and I really don't care. You're the man I've been looking for. You're the man I love."

His mind was in a spin. He did welcome her love, but felt like such a hypocrite. He lusted after her, too. He felt he was no better than her ex-boss or her former boyfriend. Still, he felt love for her, too. It's just that it was too fantastic to comprehend. He began to get a little teary, too. This sweet, lovely young woman loved him and wasn't going to take "no" for an answer.

"I need someone kind and attentive," she continued. Tears ran down her cheeks. "You're the only man I've ever met who didn't want anything from me. You give everything and ask nothing in return." She threw her arms around him and held him close.

"Oh, Dana, Dana! You make an old man so happy!" It was Jack's turn to shed tears. He pulled back from her and suddenly burst out laughing. "Here we are holding each other, claiming to be happy and we're bawling our eyes out." He hugged her close again.

"Oh, Jack," she sobbed. "I'm crying because I'm so happy! I don't know what I would have done if you had pushed me away."

"I couldn't do that, Dana. That would be unthinkable, stupid, senseless and insane."

Suddenly, she stood up and held her hands out to him. "Come with me, Jack." She spoke so softly he almost didn't hear her.

He stood up dumbly, took her hands in his and let her lead him to the bedroom. The room was dark with only the light from a newly-risen full moon for illumination.

When she began removing her clothes, he could only stare at her.

She stood naked before him, a vision in the moonlight. She went to him and began to unbutton his shirt. "Help me, Jack."

"My god, Dana! What are you doing?"





The Old Man



"It's obvious, isn't it? I'm getting ready to seduce you, to make love to you."

His hands were shaking so badly he was having trouble with his belt. He was glad that he was wearing loafers. Shoe laces would be impossible to deal with. Naked at last, he thought of nothing but what lay ahead. 

She came to him, pressing her lovely, young body against him. She whispered into his ear, "You're not so old after all, are you?"

"Not with what you're doing to me," he said in a quaking voice. "Good thing it's dark in here so you can't see my raggedy-ass old body. You'd change your mind."

"Not a chance." She ground herself against him. "I have you in my power now and I'll not let you get away." Her lips captured his again, her tongue caressing, seeking. She turned them around and pulled him down on top of her on the bed. "Take me, Jack. I'm so yours."

He kissed her deeply, then moved slowly down her body. He was rewarded with a low moan from Dana. "First things first," he said softly. When his lips reached their target she jerked and writhed under him. He let his tongue have free rein, which caused her to grab at his head, pressing him to her.

"Oh, Jack, my darling!" Her orgasm hit quickly. She had no idea how long it went on, or even if there were multiple orgasms. It was all one, long, delicious sensation that seemed never to end.

He came up beside her and held her until the spasm passed. He licked his lips, tasting her juice. She was delicious, heady, musky. He wanted more of that, but let her rest. "Did I do okay," he asked softly.

She turned to him and held him tightly. "Yeah," she said breathlessly, "you did okay." She laughed a little nervously, "You did just fine. Now, no more fooling around." She pressed herself against him. "This time for sure."

He got on top of her and let the tip of his cock touch the lips of her now-wet pussy. He moved forward very gently and entered her. "Oh, Dana, oh, Dana." He pressed his lips to hers and thrust forward with great tenderness.

She thrust back against him, her arms holding him tightly. "Jack," she whispered to him, "this is the happiest day of my life! I want you so much. Come for me, Jack, darling. Come for me!"

Jack fucked her slowly, but he knew he wouldn't last much longer. The stimulus was too strong, too powerful. The feel of her on him and against him was more than he could stand. He tensed up and pushed himself into her as far as he could. With a little cry, he came into her. "Dana! Dana!"

She held him until he finished, stroking his back with both hands. "My dear, sweet Jack. My sweet man. I love you so much."

"I love you, Dana. I'm a convert, now. You have me in your power."

She kissed him deeply with great feeling and tenderness. "Will you take me to your house tomorrow? I want to see where you live. I want to know everything about you."

"Yes, I'll take you. It'll be a mess, though, you can count on that."

"But it will be your mess. Would you let me be your cook and your housekeeper? Would you let me live with you?"

Jack had a feeling of millions of butterflies in his stomach. This was moving a lot faster than he could keep up with. "Dana, do you know what you're saying? Do you understand the implications?"

"Are you worried about what the neighbors will say? If you are, we could get married."

Jack was incredulous! She was proposing to him! He was beginning to doubt his sanity and his grip on reality. "If your living with me would make them talk, then our marriage would really raise some eyebrows."

"I certainly don't care." She kissed him again and moved her hand over him, feeling his skin with her fingertips. "I certainly won't let them dictate my life or my happiness."

He put his head on her shoulder, his lips just an inch away from her breast. "Then, let's take it one step at a time, just to be safe. I don't mean from the neighbors, I mean for ourselves, so we can be sure."

"What ever you say, lover, whatever you say." Her hand moved down his stomach slowly until she reached his cock. "I don't think you're as old as you let on," she said softly.

The second time was even better than the first.



The Old Man



Copyright 2010 by madengineer3

Prolog

Old Gabby, as he was called, was considered by most townspeople to be the ugliest man on Earth. His skin had one of those weather beaten looks that reminds people of old leather. He had a full beard and must have bathed regularly since the one positive aspect was that he didn't stink. If asked, nobody in town could even tell you how long old Gabby had lived in the area. In fact none of them ever remembered the first time that they saw him. They were just not at all interested in the reclusive hermit.

Most townsfolk had reached the point where they effectively didn't see Gabby. He was sort of an "invisible" man. Nobody spoke to him, except the shopkeepers who sold him their wares. Gabby didn't seem to mind this treatment, he seemed to be the perfect hermit. He didn't bother anyone and nobody bothered him. Even the local bullies left him alone. Gabby was old, but the bulging muscles under his clothes were apparent to all. Beside that, most people didn't want to find out what a 6'6", 275 pound old man could do.

Gabby's dwelling was outside Puritan Cove, a small New England town that seemed as if even father time had avoided it. The townspeople could have been characters from the book, "The Scarlet Letter". They were, on the whole, a "holier than thou" group. They had been taught, by their pastor (who was also the local school master) that any deviation from his interpretation of what was moral was almost "the unpardonable sin". The "Right Reverend" Smythe was stricter than any of the old "Holiness" preachers of the mid-nineteenth century. He represented himself to be a perfect follower of "God's Law", with the emphasis on the word law. 

On the other hand, there was Sarah. Sarah was the moral pariah in town. She had been raped, at age eighteen, and had carried the child. It was stillborn. When talking about her the town folk referred to her "rape" as a coverup for a lewd lifestyle. The fact that Sarah hadn't left town or stayed inside, out of sight, made people mad at her. After all, her condition indicated that either someone in town wasn't an upstanding moral person, or that she had gotten pregnant by being a "loose woman".

Sarah made her livelihood by doing odd jobs. She worked as a seamstress for the local clothing store. She acted as an occasional barmaid at the local tavern. She worked as a janitor for the tavern and a couple of other semi-disreputable firms in town. Basically, she did what she had to do to keep a roof over her head and food on her table. The roof was a spare room over the tavern itself. There were times when keeping food and shelter required her to do things that she didn't really want to do; but she did what was needed to survive. The one need that she couldn't truly take care of was the need for companionship. The mere fellowship of another person that would listen to her problems and aspirations. With the lack of family, this weighed heavily upon her.

The Story

It was three days after Christmas when things seemed to become unbearable for Sarah. Her landlord, Rufus King, who also owned and ran the local tavern had recently been married. His new wife, a "church going woman", named Gertrude, was a devout follower of the "Right Reverend" Smythe. Because of this detail Gertrude was strictly a " teetotaler". Before the minister would officiate at a wedding, Gertrude's husband to be had to join the church and swear to follow its moral teachings. He joined.

Not long after the marriage Gertrude laid down the law to her new husband. He had to get rid of the tavern and stop renting rooms to "sinners". Reluctantly, he agreed to do that. 

It was the evening after that ultimatum that he called Sarah over, after work, and gave her the bad new.

"Sarah, I'm going to have to let you go. On top of that I can't rent you the room upstairs anymore."

"Why? Have I done something that wasn't right? I've had this job for a couple of years. What have I done to deserve this?"

"You haven't done anything wrong. My wife and the Rev. Smythe both demand that I close up the tavern and stop renting rooms."

"Why? You don't do anything illegal or immoral. I know that you limit how much your patrons can drink and that you don't allow any funny business here. What is wrong with your keeping the tavern open?"

"I'll never have peace at home if I don't do this. It's already settled. Mid January ownership of this building will be transferred to a young man from church who wants to open a small store. Under the Reverend's orders he is not to hire you, or anyone else who has worked here. I'm sorry."

With that the owner left.

That night Sarah couldn't sleep. She had no idea what she could do. Her possessions consisted of a large suitcase of clothes and small items. She had almost no money. She now realized that she apparently had no friends. She knew that nobody in town would rent her a room, due to the local minister's orders.

The awful day finally came. Late in the afternoon, Sarah was told to leave the building. She did so with tears in her eyes. It was a Friday evening and the weather was foul. There was a mixture of snow and freezing rain falling. Sarah had not been able to come up with anyplace to stay or work. The evening gloom didn't help her spirits. In desperation she found herself praying for deliverance from this awful mess. 

About half an hour after being evicted Sarah heard the sound of an Amish style buggy coming up the street. She moved back from the curb to avoid being splashed. She was surprised when the buggy came to a stop, next to her.

A kindly, man's, voice said, "It's awfully nasty weather to be outside. Do you have someplace that you need to go?"

"No Sir, I don't."

"There's no need for the sir, most people just call me old Gabby. I have a spare room, it's not much but you can use it if you wish."

Sarah was unsure of what to do. She knew of old Gabby and had never heard anything bad about him, but she didn't know him.

"Are their any strings attached?"

"No, Sarah."

Sarah immediately noticed that this Gabby knew who she was. She was also aware of the fact that she was very cold and very hungry.

"How much money do you want to let me use the room?"

"I didn't say anything about money, Sarah. Let's just say that having company with whom I can talk is more than enough rent."

Sarah was too distressed to hesitate much. "Thank you for your kind offer, Gabby. I would be glad for the use of the room."

Sarah climbed into the seat next to Gabby and closed the buggy's door. It was dry and comfortable in the buggy. The ride out to Gabby's place took the better part of forty minutes. When Gabby got there he pulled the buggy into his barn, unhitched the horse and proceeded to put some fresh oats and hay in the manger. While the horse ate, Gabby toweled the horse off and then combed out its fur. 

Sarah was impressed with the kindness that Gabby showed the horse. He treated it as if it really mattered to him.

When Gabby finished he helped Sarah out of the buggy and they made their way into the small house. 

Sarah immediately noticed three things. The warmth, the smell of stew in the pot on the hearth, and the cleanliness of the room.

Old Gabby directed Sarah to a small room that lay behind the chimney for the fireplace

"This room gets its heat from the stones that form the back of the fireplace. You will find it to be warm. It isn't fancy, but it is warm. The toilet is an outhouse out back. There is a coal oil lamp in the other room to make it easy to make your way to the outhouse when you need to use it. Now, are you hungry?"

All Sarah could say was, "Yes sir."

"It's Gabby, there's no need for any sir around here."

They sat at the small table near the fireplace. That table was apparently used for meals, work, studying, or anything else that needed a flat, clean surface. As the meal progressed Sarah asked questions.

"Gabby, how did you know my name?"

"Oh, I've seen you around. In fact I remember when you were born. Your parents really loved you."

"Do you know what it was that killed them?"

"Yes, they both got consumption but, you were spared. God had a specific plan for your life."

"What good has my life been? I have no power or wealth. I'm not educated. Sometimes I'm not even very good." At that Sarah became quiet.

"You are honest and kind Sarah. There are no normal human beings who are good. Humans are flawed and have a brokenness that runs right to their core. You have done as well as any human around you could do."

"How can you say that?"

"I've watched you."

"I haven't seen you. How could you watch me?"

"Just trust me, I have seen you. As a small example, I saw you give that free bowl of soup to the old beggar that showed up to the tavern last Tuesday evening."

"You couldn't have. I was alone at that point."

"None the less I did see you. Just trust me."

Sarah was a bit "spooked" at this point. She was also emotionally exhausted and in need of sleep.

"It's time for you to get some sleep, young lady. You'll find a good lock on the inside of your bedroom door. Have a good night."

"Thank you Gabby!"

Sarah went into her room, put on her one good nightgown and was asleep before she knew it. She had the most restful sleep that she could remember. When she woke up she dressed and bundled up to go out to the outhouse. After returning she found Gabby at a kettle over the fire.

"I hope you like oatmeal, Sarah. That's my normal breakfast."

"Yes, Gabby, I like oatmeal a lot. What can I do to help around here? If I'm going to eat your food and enjoy your shelter I need to do something to help."

"Just rest for a few days. We can discuss that later, and I promise it will be acceptable to you."

The next few days were the most peaceful time Sarah could remember. She spent most of the time near the fire, reading her parents old Bible. The forth day at dinner Gabby started the conversation.

"What have you been reading, Sarah?"

"I've spent most of my time in Proverbs, Psalms, and the Gospels. There is a lot that I don't understand."

"There's a lot most people don't understand, Sarah. You and most of the human race can't begin to grasp what those writers were trying to say. What's one of the things that confuses you the most?"

"Well, in the story of when Jesus was in the wilderness, after His baptism, it says that He was with the wild beasts. Why would wild beasts be around Him?"

"Oh, that's an easy one. You see, the desert gets quite cold at night. Even though men may not recognize the Creator of the universe, the beasts do. They came to provide him warmth, a place to rest his head, and companionship. They had no demands to make, they worshiped Him as was His due."

"I've never heard that before. How about the story where Jesus is between the angry mob and the adulteress? He was writing on the ground and suddenly nobody was willing to throw the first stone."

"Again, that is easy. Do you remember that when they brought her to Jesus saying that they had caught her in the act of adultery?"

"Yes."

"Where was the man who was involved? The law demanded that the man and woman should both be brought to justice. Where was he?"

"I don't know."

"Today what was done would have been called entrapment. Her getting caught was a set-up! One of the people in the crowd was the man. Most of the people in the crowd were in on this evil attempt. Jesus caused the men in the crowd to clearly focus on their own sins. When He then said that the man without sin should cast the first stone, they left. Note that the eldest left first. They had lived longer and had committed more sins and had the most on their minds. Each man saw his own sins while Jesus was writing!"

"But, why didn't He condemn her?"

"God doesn't want to condemn people, He wants to save them. From the Old Testament on through the New Testament God is trying to save those who were willing. That woman was willing."

Sarah pondered what she had heard. She had never before heard the scriptures explained like this. It was as if the words were suddenly alive. "If God doesn't want to condemn, why does He allow pain and suffering?"

"Now you are asking a question to which many people don't really want to know the answer. Are you sure you want the answer?"

"Yes, I do."

"When the heavens and earth were made Adam and Eve were given free will. That is, they could choose to do what they wanted, or choose to do what God wanted. When given the chance they did things their own way, instead of the way that they had been told to do. When they decided to do what they wanted instead of what God wanted they set into motion a sequence of events that are part and parcel of the design of the universe. Let me give you a simple example. Suppose a child is climbing up a hill and sees a piece of rope on the ground. The child's parent has told it not to touch the rope. The child doesn't realize that the rope is holding a support in place that is preventing a large pile of logs from rolling down the hill and into the family's house. The child decides to pull on the rope to see what would happen. In pulling the rope stored gravitational energy in the logs is released. Moments later that energy will damage the family's house. The disobedience turned loose forces about which the child had no understanding. So it is with man's sin. When the first sin was committed, it turned loose powers that mankind, to this day, doesn't understand. Those powers corrupted the beautifully designed world that the Lord had made." 

"Oh."

"Let me ask you a personal question, Sarah. Did the local sheriff ever investigate your complaint about the rape?"

With a very nervous look Sarah asked, "Who told you about that?"

"Nobody, I just know more about it than either you or most other people know. I know who assaulted you. Before you even ask it, I had nothing to do with that. However, you should know that God is going to use that assault to set some things right in Puritan Cove."

Sarah looked frightened. "Please, no! It already hurts just to walk down the sidewalk in town. If that is brought back up I don't know if I could handle it."

"I understand Sarah, I understand more completely than you could know. However, when God fixes a problem He helps His people through the fire. You are definitely one of His people."

"How can you say that? Only God knows who are the saved ones."

"That's true. However He sometimes tells His servants things that they need to know. You need to know that you are in the right. This coming Sunday you and I are going to visit the church in Puritan Cove. You will be seen as guiltless by all those people. Many of the 'important people' in town are going to be found to be the Devil's own. Don't worry about it for now. However, please keep up your prayers for the next few days. You will need strength for what is going to happen."

Sarah was gently crying at this point. Gabby took her hand and said, God wants you to relax and trust in His wisdom. Will you try to do that?"

"Yes, but it is hard." As she said those words she felt a peace unlike she had ever felt before. 

Gabby smiled and said, "That is good, He has given you the peace you need. Now, go and get a good night's sleep."

The next few days went by quickly. Sarah, following Gabby's directions, spent her time praying for guidance and strength. Finally, Sunday morning arrived. The first hymn had just been sung when Gabby and Sarah entered the church. To say that the congregation was surprised would be a severe understatement.

Pastor Smythe spoke up immediately, "Why are you sinners interrupting our serv......"

At that point Gabby clearly spoke out, "Silence!" and Pastor Smythe's lips kept moving but no sound came forth.

Gabby continued. "A grave injustice has been committed and God has seen fit to bring the guilty to judgment. They have spread their poison for too long. Now, before I continue let me take on my normal form:" Suddenly, where Gabby had been standing, there stood a being like a man clothed in fine linen with a golden belt around his waist. He looked like he was eight or nine feet tall. His face looked like it was made of polished gem stones, and his face shown with an incredible light and his eyes were almost as bright as the sun itself. His arms and legs looked like highly polished bronze. And his voice was overpowering.

Sarah and every other person in the room found themselves either prostrate on the floor or hanging their heads as if in deep shame.

"You have known me a Gabby. My name is Gabriel and I stand in the presence of the Most High God. He has seen fit to save many of you from the great evil that you have done. I am now going to allow Sarah to remember things that have been hidden from her for many years. They have been hidden because they would have been too painful for her to bear at that time. Sarah, stand up and I will prompt your mind so that you can remember those things. The rest of you look at her as she speaks."

Sarah stood and started to speak. "The night I was raped there were three men involved. They all had hoods over their heads but they had dropped their pants. All three men had distinct scars or birthmarks on them. The ringleader had a brownish birthmark that looked a lot like a billy goat's head as seen straight on. It was on the front of his left thigh. He is the one who raped me first. The second man had a nasty looking scar that ran from just above his right knee to his hip. It looked like it had been very sloppily closed up. The third man also had a scar. It was about on his belt line and ran from his left hip around the edge of his body. I don't know how I remember these things now, but I can see them as clearly as I can see you all sitting there."

Gabby said,"come here now!" It was a terrifying sound. Almost immediately the pastor, the head of the trustees and the head of the elders of the church were standing facing the congregation with their backs to Sarah.

Gabriel pointed a finger at them and their pants were suddenly on the floor around their feet. The pastor had the goat like birth mark and the others had the scars.

Gabriel continued: "You, as a congregation have been judging innocent children of the Most High God. You know the rule: 'Judge not lest ye be judged!' Because you didn't do this out of malice you are going to be forgiven, but what you thought were riches being stored up in heaven because of your supposed good works are in fact sins that you will have to live with. There is one man in this congregation who is truly a godly man. His name is Rufus King. You would do well to have him take over the ministry here and the mastering of the school. As for his wife, Gertrude, she had better realize that it is only for his sake that she will not be going with these three evil men. She loved to gossip and run people down. Gossip and murder are quite closely related. They both depend upon hatred. She now owes her life to her husband. She had better learn repentance."

There was now loud wailing coming from Gertrude.

"Silence, woman, or you will go with these men." It was suddenly quiet.

"Now, if you have followed my instructions you will note that Sarah is robed like I am and has a glow about her. That is the reflection of the Shechinah glory that filled the Tabernacle. I have known my position as an angel for millenia, she hasn't yet fully realized that she, like Elijah is going to be taken up with me. You all have provided her a little hell here. These three evil men are going to join some other evil doers in the abyss until the judgment day. We will be going now, but be warned: very few people get awakened in time to turn around their lives. You must learn to love one another and bear one another's burdens."

There was no sound or flash of light. The three men, Sarah, and Gabby simply weren't there anymore. 




The Old Man



It was probably a good twenty minutes before the congregation started talking again. They knew that what they had seen and heard were real. On top of that there were three empty sets of men's clothes where the pastor, elder, and trustee had been standing. 

These people were blessed with a wake up call. I wonder how many of us need one too? 



The Old Man



Nobody ever seemed to know what he did! He always seemed to be in the way, this old, white haired NOTHING! This man with the perpetually smiley face! He was ALWAYS sticking his nose in places they didn't belong!

When she asked the elders or the women, the answer was always the same - nobody seemed to know what he did. They all said that, when he was in his prime, he was the greatest of their hunters. They quietly tolerate his antics now, because of his past. As it was, he even SMELLED badly! All, however, treated him with the utmost respect - even all the boys and men. The girls, however, seemed to avoid him - they didn't abuse him because they saw how the rest respected him - but rather than respecting him, they would just avoid him.

She did, however, notice that he had an eye for the young girls, and for some reason, especially for her. Why? She didn't know. But, he would pick wild flowers and give them to the young girls and all the women. The women would seem to receive his gifts with a smile - the young girls would frown at him, but then treat him with respect. When he left, they would throw the flowers away.

She was young, but had recently had her first period - she was becoming a woman and would be eligible for marriage. She looked fondly at the young, strong hunters and saw what mighty, fierce, beautiful warriors they made! With soft curly hair, they would perform heroic deeds, bringing back only the best of kills. She would nestle as near to them as she could, within the confines of her family's space in the cave. She would smile at them, and noticed that most of them would sort-of smile back - she wasn't the most beautiful of the girls. She noticed that the old, scarred man would smile his brightest smile for her, though.

Finally, the day came, and she was made ready for her "coming of age" ceremony - her hair washed and perfumed with flowers, scrubbing sweet-sand used on her body and between every crevice and in her navel until she felt like she had been raked over a gravel pit! A little dab of honey had been placed in her navel. Then, she was dressed in the most beautiful of gowns, with her navel and belly area left open. She thought she had a beautiful navel, oval and deep, overly large, softly inward curving - the others would make fun at her because she had such a large navel! She thought it looked very good though, and would practically orgasm whenever she merely touched it. She wondered how come her dress was open, though, exposing her navel.

With drum, song and appropriate prayers to the gods on her behalf, she was led by all the men and elders - all men - no women, into the circle in a special cave where a bed had been created. She was to be made love to by the most HANDSOME, of the men, she was sure! She had been told that she would enjoy it and that she was to relax. She was STRICTLY admonished that she was NOT to touch her lover's body nor open her eyes! She was to do NOTHING that would give who he was away. She just KNEW that the one elected to open her and "cross her over" would be the one she would be mated with - her perfect lover.

The humming having started, she was laid on the bed. To the delight of her senses, her nose, she smelled the sweetest, yet most thrillingly manly smell she had ever sensed! Excited, her whole body was trembling!

Strong hands gently, oh so very gently held her, as he lay between her legs! Slightly confused by the sensation, what she felt between her legs was indeed a man's body but yet, not as strong as she perceived the young men would feel. But yet, his touch was so gentle, and yet so very in control, she could not help but be totally in his power.

He had gently removed her gown - which had been specially made for this, and to her utter sexual delight the first place he kissed was her navel! A lightning bolt, an arrow, of pure erotic HEAT shot through her navel, her whole bod,y as she felt him gently brushing his face and lips against her navel and her soft belly! OHHHHHH, by the gods! Ohhhh, how she was INSTANTLY in Flames!!

Her body writhing, her belly heaving with the utmost erotic pleasure ever imagined, she melted totally in this beautiful "stranger's" arms - surely the most handsome of the men, yet maybe still not the full warrior she imagined. She didn't care; this man had her totally in his power as she felt his tongue lovingly probing her navel, his hands loving her belly as only a DREAM could do! From that very first kiss, she was wailing, and writhing, her belly convulsing in pure pleasure as this man mastered her sexually and emotionally. 

Occasionally, she found that he would wander to her breasts or even her mouth. She would cry out and plead, PLEASE master!! Please, to my navel and my belly, please!! At this command, he would obediently go back to kissing, nuzzling and gently biting her navel and belly (although she was thrilled by even his kisses to her mouth and breasts.) She wanted more!! She wanted him to stab her navel; she wanted him to rip her belly apart with his teeth! She wanted him to devour her navel and belly! Her body was in TORMENT from his kisses! How could this man worship her navel and belly, when she was pudgy and curvy, with this PAUCH where her navel was - not flat and sexy like the other girls with this huge HOLE of a navel! She had been wailing and screaming her delight in continuous cries! She thrilled at his fingers gently moving adoringly over her navel rim, and across the swell below her navel - her, previously mentioned "paunch." He was WORSHIPING her "paunch, his lips like burning coals on her swell!"

Gently, oh so gently backing up his ministrations to every square inch of her belly and her navel was his hands - one hand caressing her soft belly, caressing that paunch that she hungered to have loved, and her breasts, the other gently inserted into her womb which, from the first kiss, was dripping with nectar. He expertly, like never imagined, even more gently than she herself had done, caressed inside her with his rough hunter hands, which further excited her - texture to the smoothness of her own hands - adding to the hot fire in her belly and navel! None of the women, whom she had talked to about her coming-of-age celebration, had seemed to act like this. They were pleased and happy and indeed had climaxed with his ministrations - whoever he was. But, not like THIS!!

She could hear the man softly groaning, again confusing her as this did not seem to be the sound of a youth! But, his TOUCH, his KISSES!

Climaxing over and over again, he finally felt her enter her, with a very STRONG, HARD, THICK member, as he gently, expertly slid into her - in the softest entry she could ever imagine! Even her own ministrations with her hands were not as soft!

She was in the hands of the UTMOST Expert! Her belly, her navel, her womb - all of her, in the hands of this formost, gentle hunter!

Having broken her maidenhood, which hurt slightly, but still was masked by the extreme pleasure, she felt the rich, warm flow of his nectar deep inside her belly - warming her and pleasing her - not as much as the wonderful feel of his skin on her belly though - but so very pleasing indeed! He had gone back to kissing her navel and belly, helping her to stay on top of her multiple climaxes. He bit her navel rim - much harder than ever before, which caused her to gasp and jump harder! She heard him utter a grunt of apology.

Ohhhh, NOOOO it happened - she opened her eyes!! NOOOOO, by the gods! There on top of her was this OLD MAN!! Noooooo! Not HIM!! Her body still in flames, she whimpered piteously as she looked at him. Although you could see he was hurt by her stare of surprise and a certain measure of disgust and her look of incredulous betrayal, he never-the-less brought her down with the gentlest ministrations he could - until she lay there in a weak, baby-like heap, her body curled in a fetal ball.

Putting his finger to his lips, he had cautioned her not to say anything. Afterwards, all the elders came to her, and by the strictest warnings, commanded her to keep silent to everybody about her "lover". As yet, she could see him walking away, crushed, with a totally defeated look on his face, not crying, but near to it - a gentle but proud look on his face. Although she had been shocked by this revelation, she now looked at him through slightly different eyes. She saw the age, and the scars, but she also saw the immense love and gentleness that he gave out - that was him. Instead of a scarred old man, she saw instead, a sweet face where before she could only see age.

Through the time that followed, no man, even the older ones, came forward to claim her as his mate! She was plain and chubby! Not sleek and beautiful like the other girls! The young men would poke her in her navel! It didn't feel all that good; they would make sure it HURT! The old man would shoo them away from her whenever they would taunt her! Out of respect, they obediently would leave. When men would have sex with her - it was not LOVE, not like what that old man did for her! It would leave her crying and sore with a huge ache in her soft, curvy belly and her navel. She would go off alone and cry - and for some reason, the old man and his technique would ALWAYS come back to her - never again had she felt this expert gentleness and love!

Still, he gave out flowers to the women and girls and still gave her the best. She found she began smiling at him and keeping the flowers, rather than discarding them as the other girls did. She would line her bed with them and lay in that sweet smell, thinking of the moment when this unlikely man made love to her - LOVE, not Sex!! LOVE!!

She found herself wandering around his area, feigning interest in what he was doing. He actually took the time, not like the women who would push her around and scold her for not learning fast enough, but with patience and smiles and love in his gentle guidance and eyes. She found herself snuggling onto his lap when some woman of the tribe was meaner to her than usual. He would wrap his arms so gently around her and begin humming a soft song just to her. With his hands gently touching her belly and navel - she would gasp and arch hard, pushing her soft belly into his hands! Again, she would instantly feel that rush of ecstatic climax as his touch would bring back what he had done to her.

Eventually, she found that she was with him all the time, as he held her in his arms, cradling her like the most precious of babies as his touch to her belly and navel brought her the utmost of pleasures. Strange, he didn't smell bad at all! Indeed, whenever his hands would touch some other place, she would very gently guide his hands back, although she loved him touching other areas as well. Indeed, he seemed to prefer her navel and her belly, gently drawing little circles on her navel rim and inside as she felt him enjoying it too - although odd at first, she came not only to enjoy his excitement - from THIS OLD MAN - but to do whatever she could to promote it. She found him teasing him, dancing her navel in front of his eyes, just out of reach of his hands, until finally, both of them giggling, she would get "caught" and he would pull her navel to his mouth, her soft, curvy belly to his face as he would provide her the GREATEST of pleasures, as on that first day.

Having been alone since his mate died, he had stayed alone, never even availing himself, which was his right, to lay with a woman. He would eat and sleep alone, or with the elders - but never with a woman. However, he would let her sleep with him, curling his worn arms around her soft waist as if protecting a baby. Always causing her the utmost of sexual pleasure, his hand on her belly and his finger gently in her navel - she found they would play in the middle of the night, the deep respect of the elders, and the soft chides of the women, and the barely masked disgust of the young maidens, not withstanding.

He had asked her!! Why was she surprised and amazed that he would do this!!???

And, instead of just grabbing her and hauling her before the elders, he had ASKED her! He had asked her to be his mate! She found herself crying and clutching her soft belly tightly, in his eyes, the most BEAUTIFUL and most PLEASURABLE of bellies and navels - even more-so than his own mate's had been. She could not help it, the deep emotion flooding through her body and aching in her little belly - and in a voice filled with tears of the utmost of joys, she said "Yes."

Giggling and laughing, holding hands rather than her being dragged, they giggled like little children as they both raced to the elders, who - not being at all surprised, joyously said "Yes." With beams elation on the elders' faces and even from the women - disgust again being barely hidden by the girls, they were joined in which seemed like the grandest of celebrations for the two.

Indeed - that celebration continued on for the rest of their lives, as this "old man" felt himself made new and young by this "beautiful" girl and this girl made to feel the most precious of women in the arms of her "man". They neither shared nor gave each other to any other. Except that he would, of course, "open the flower", of every single maiden who came of age. THAT was his task. When the maidens would ask her about him, what his duties were, being that she lived with him, or if she knew anything about the "lover" in the coming-of-age ceremony, she would NEVER divulge his secret, but would shrug and say, he used to be the tribe's chief hunter - above that, she didn't know, and she knew not who the "lover" was. But, she would watch him wander around trying to help, and giggle because he saw the mischief in his eyes, and the youthful antics he would do - like that of a 5 year old child! She could never love someone more than he and he for her. 

He continued placing the most beautiful of flowers on her pretty belly, every single morning - and would kiss her beautiful belly and navel every night. And, long past his passing, a flower would appear on her belly every morning, the soft petals kissing her navel. And at night, her hand on her belly, her finger gently caressing her navel rim, this would bring back the strongest and most wonderfully erotic remembrances of his amazing touch.

The touch of her ultimate lover - "The Old Man."



The Old Man and Alexis



Steph and I met through one of those dating sites for middle-aged singles. I remember being skeptical about the process but it had been five years since my divorce and I was lonely, tired of the treadmill of fuck buddies and call girls. Steph told me later that she had felt exactly the same although in her case, the period of separation was twice the duration of mine. 

I liked her from the off. She was a tall, leathery blonde of forty-seven, the HR manager of a Tesco's in Surrey. We met for the first time in a bar off Aldgate High Street. Steph was classy. Dry but not cynical, smart but understated. It usually takes me a couple of dates before I'm sure about a woman but in her case, it was there from the start. She sent me home with a hard-on. I couldn't wait to see her again.

Six months later, we were engaged. Like everything else we did, it was spontaneous. Steph and I didn't do consequences. No matter how many times you fall in love, you stick to the same MO. Again, I had found 'the one'. Steph was everything I loved in a woman – heart, common sense, femininity. The sex was phenomenal. Any worries I had about the dwindling potency of a forty-nine year old man vanished between her thighs and in her mouth. The engagement was brief. We were married a week before Christmas and honeymooned in Barbados until the new year. I call it the idyllic P.A phase. Pre-Alexis. Because when we got back, it all came undone. 

Alexis was Steph's daughter from her first marriage. She was nineteen when her mother and I married. Although she was making good money in her job in the city, she was reluctant to leave home and Steph didn't want to let her go. I saw it as a temporary arrangement when I sold my apartment and moved into their house in Guildford. Soon Steph and I would have a place of our own. Given Alexis' temperament, that couldn't come soon enough. 

She was a typical spoiled child of seperated parents, well versed in the art of playing one off against the other. She partied incessantly. Steph allowed her to have her boyfriends over. Steph allowed her to do whatever she wanted and got nothing but shit by way of thanks. With me, she was pleasant, but surly. I cramped her style somewhat. She tended to clam up when I was around. I made an effort for Steph's sake, but it was hard going.

Alexis looked nothing like her mother. A heavily freckled brunette, she was short and thick-bodied where Steph was slender or at least had been until she hit her forties. When Steph and I fucked, I was astonished by the thought that Alexis had come out of the very uterus whose neck I was cresting. I used to catch myself staring at her. She played with her hair, ate the ends of it. She stubbed out cigarettes in plant pots. When she talked on her phone she smirked like her mother did. That was the only similarity I could see. 

Jon, her Dad, had waited until he was forty and married for eleven years before coming out as gay. I didn't understand how a woman as intelligent as Steph hadn't seen it. 'I'm afraid,' he had told her, 'I can't accommodate you in my new lifestyle.' The divorce had been emotional. He played the victim card like a pro in an attempt to make Steph reveal an intolerance that she in no way possesses. But the acrimony had petered out over the years and they learned how to be civil. Alexis had taken her Mum's side but occasionally dropped a snide remark about beards. I had only met him once, at the funeral of an Aunt of his whom Steph had loved. It was civil.

It must have been the end of February, because there was snow on the tracks. The blizzard had followed a temperate January and had come out of nowhere, dumping nine inches of snow on the Home Counties in the space of a few hours. I rang the office at 6.30 and told them I was working at home. Steph, on the other hand, was full of Blitz spirit.

'Don't tell me you're going in,' I said.

'Of course I am.' She sat down at the kitchen table, in full work warpaint. 

'You're driving in.'

'Since when did we become such scaredy cats?'

'The AA said...'

'I don't care what they said.' She picked up her phone and dialled. 'Lexi?' 

I shook my head. The girl was upstairs. Why not just go up to her?

'Snow on the lines my arse. Get them to pay for a taxi.' She shook her head and threw her phone into her bag. 'I know she's bloody hungover again and God knows what else.' 

'Call if you need me.' I helped her on with her mac. 

'Keep your phone on.' She kissed my cheek. 'And make sure she gets up.'

The kraken awoke at 11.30. I heard her coming down the stairs. I saved a file and wandered into the kitchen. 

'Chaos out there,' I said. 

She looked back at me, reaching for a box of cereal. She was wearing a pink tracksuit and the make-up she had worn the previous night.

'I was due a day off anyway,' she said.

I walked over and put on some coffee. 

'How are you?' I said.

'I've had better weeks.' Her black lined eyes were very light glacial blue, almost grey. They should have looked off given her colouration but it worked. I noticed again the jungle cat markings suggested by the pattern of her freckles. 

'I don't know where you get the energy.' 

'I bet you used to cane it.' 

When she looked at me, I felt the change in the energy of the room. Steph and I had fucked the previous night and I could still taste her pussy. I wondered if a mother and a daughter tasted the same...

'I bet you was a proper tearaway.' She leaned forward, her chair creaking.

'I've had my moments. What you get up to last night?'

'I'm not telling you.' She wiped her nose. 'Snitch.'

'Snatch?'

'I'm glad Mum met someone like you. You're a good bloke.'

Now where had that come from? 

'Your Mum's a special lady.' I didn't like the look that passed over her face when I said that. Banter was one thing but she always took the piss. She couldn't help herself.

'It's funny, I could never think of you as my Dad.'

'So what do you think?' 

'We could be good mates.' I watched her become tense as I walked towards her. 'God, I need to sober up.'

'Say it. For the laugh. Call me Dad.'

'You know the kind of stuff my Dad used to get up to?'

'Are they your Dad's eyes?' She became still as I touched her chin. 'You look like a cat.'

'It's so bad.' Her lips were sticky under my figertips

'Is it so hard to say? Such a sweet girl...'

'Oh, Dad...'

I pushed her mouth onto mine and unzipped her top. She was hesitant at first, her opened eyes uncertain.

'I hear you sometimes,' she gasped at my lips. 'You and her. I try to stop listening and I can't.'

'Does it get you off?'

'It's sick.'

'Does it gets you off?' I peeled a bra cup away from her breast. 'You know what else is hard?' She gasped as I tugged at the sleeper through her nipple. 'You a bad girl Lexi?

'I can be.' She didn't object as I guided her towards my crotch. She unzipped me, cool fingers feeling for my cock. I bent down to kiss her then brought her mouth towards it. 

'Show me the bad girl.' I gathered her hair into an upstyle. 'Show me how you make it come.'

Her eyes widened above my shaft. I think she was taken aback by how hard I was. She put out her tongue like I told her to and I rubbed my glans against it. When she took it in her mouth again, I slipped a hand inside the waistband of her tracksuit.

'Sucking my dick makes you wet? Taste it.' I pushed my fingers into her mouth. Her soft reaction to the hint of brutality made my cock twitch. I found her cunt again. 

'You like me to touch it? To kiss me when I touch you?'

'You're so good to me...' The words vanished beneath my lips. She gave me all of her tongue, jerking me off against her breasts. 

'I want to fuck your pussy.'

'Fucking do me on the floor.'

'Want to be my lover?' I pulled her to her feet. 'Want to see how good your man fucks you?' 

Her thong and tracksuit bottoms came down together. There was a tribal tattoo on the small of her back and the initials DX just above her labia. I took her shoulders and we sank to the floor kissing.

'Open your cunt.' We both exhaled simultaneously as I felt the kiss of her pussy against the head of my cock. 'Look how good we fit, babe...'

The tiles were warm beneath us. I lay her down on her back, gazing down in wonder as my cock stretched the velvet of her slit. I mauled her rippling breasts which were even more explosively freckled than her face. Her belly was smooth, taut beneath my raking fingers. I slid my hands under her arse, and sat up, lifting her into my lap. 

'You're such a good fuck,' she said and bit my lip. 

'Are you going to come?'

I redoubled my slick, deep thrusting up into her, gouging at the cheeks of her arse. She pressed her open mouth against my neck in a soundless scream. I felt the muscles of her vagina contract, her spine, her ribs standing out, making as if to burst through her skin. She was still coming when I put her on her knees. 

'Back on to me like that.' I reached down for her breasts. 'Oh Jesus, sweetheart...can I come inside you?' 

'It's okay, yeah.' 

I dropped the tempo of my fucking to a crawl, wanting to draw out every sweet second I spent inside of her. She craned her body back to kiss me. 

'Turn around,' I said. 'I want to see your eyes.' 

She lay back down on the floor, pulling her thighs back, spreading her cunt for me to enter. It didn't take much longer. I couldn't remember the last time I'd come so intensely. Alexis stroked my balls as I emptied them into her, gnawing at her lower lip. I brushed the hair away from her face. She was so fucking beautiful. But somewhere in the background of that tender moment was a shadow, an indefinable sense that I'd just done something much worse than betraying my wife. Worse than the fact that I'd betrayed her with her own daughter, my step-daughter. Alexis seemed to know the feeling. 

'We're going to hell,' she said.

'She can never know.' 

'No. God, no.' Alexis rose unsteadily to her feet. Her buttocks left two shining imprints upon the floor tiles. 

'I should get back to work.' 

We dressed in silence. There was plenty to say but neither of us knew where to begin. 

*

I rented a flat in a new anonymous block in Shoreditch, one of those inhabited by young professionals, call-girls and fellow adulterers. It was far enough from our respective places of work to minimize the risk of unwanted encounters with colleagues but still only less than half an hour away for both of us. We had to make the most of the scraps of time we persisted on. A couple of sandwiches grabbed from Pret A Manger at lunchtime, a taxi hailed, arriving in a fluster only to find she was there already, cool as I was stressed, unbuttoning her blouse as she walked towards me in the hallway. Bogus late working and drinking sessions invented for Steph's benefit, our naked flesh weird in the light of a lengthening spring evening, one eye on our phones, reaching for each other as we decided we could risk another half an hour. 

'She's going to catch us.' Alexis was prone to paranoia, the more far-fetched the scenario the better. 'You think you've been so careful but it's that one little thing you overlook.' 

'Steph is blind when it comes to stuff like this,' I said. 'Look at her and Jon. She's got too big a heart to be suspicious.' 

It was strange how both Alexis and I used to discuss Steph in only the most positive terms when we were together, as if this somehow compensated for our betrayal of her. At home we attempted to maintain a pretence of normality and this included Alexis being a bitch to Steph and me trying to be a diplomat. Her snottiness and my timidity were what Steph expected from us. But there were moments... 

'I think she's seeing somebody.' We had just got into bed one evening when Steph casually threw her grenade into my lap. 

'She's with that Jeremy,' I said. I cleaned my glasses just to be doing something with my hands. 

'Jeremy was strictly for Christmas. A seasonal fuck buddy. God, what a thing to call a person.' She was wearing an old combat singlet, one of the straps of which had fallen from her shoulder as she arranged her pillows. 'She's different when she's got someone steady. Not so bitter.' 

'You worry about her too much. She's a clever girl. Her mum's daughter.' 

'She's a selfish girl.' It was barely a whisper. Steph stared into space, her hand feeling for my stiffening cock beneath the sheets. I felt it snake inside the vent of my shorts. Was my hard-on for her or for the girl we were talking about, who, a little earlier that day, had sucked it until it had exploded in her mouth? 

'Frisky bugger, aren't we?' Her breath was hot against my ear. I unmoored the other strap of her top, relieved we were done with that conversation, and enjoying an instant of intense sexual vanity. There is, after all, a perverse pleasure in deceit. 

*

One morning at breakfast, Steph said to me, 'What the hell were you dreaming about last night?' 

'Fuck.' Standing behind us, Alexis fumbled the milk she was adding to her coffee and reached for a J-cloth. 

'Did I wake you?' I said. 'Sorry. Some nightmare. I don't remember it.' 

"Don't go in there." Steph giggled. 'You sounded like a loon. You're taking a Xanax tonight.'

I affected sheepishness while Steph and Alexis commenced arguing about a pair of shoes the latter had borrowed and failed to return. Another potential crisis averted. But as I drove to work, the details started to come back to me. 

The incident the dream was based on had happened back in the early nineties. My friend Jack and I had been out on the pull. We'd met some Irish student nurses in Archway and they'd invited us back to their place for a smoke. It was a home for trainee nurses on the grounds of a North London hospital or a dream-distorted version of it. I ended up with Fiona, a hefty girl with an impenetrable Ulster accent that was made even harder to understand by her brain-damage degree of intoxication. I'd had some sulphate, which used to make me reckless. It was hard to tell, as I struggled to remove her jeans, whether she was conscious of what was happening or not. I honestly didn't care. What with her comatose state and my speed dick, it wasn't the most memorable of fucks. She passed out halfway through and was still unconscious as I slipped out the door. 

This was the point at which the dream began. I was outside her door, in a hallway that was both the nurse's home and Steph's house at the same time. Steph was in a room two doors along doing bong hits with an American couple we'd met on our honeymoon. Close by, a door opened and shut continually, disgorging house music each time. 

'You're dead, you shouldn't be here,' I said to Steph. She didn't hear me and though she was talking, I couldn't hear her either. 

Now here was Fiona again, and although this had taken place in summer, I had the sense that it was Christmas. 'You put no thought into your presents,' she said even though, being unconscious, she couldn't have said anything. 

'I never forget an occasion,' I said. I became annoyed. 'She mustn't go in there,' I thought although I didn't know to whom I was referring, the place she wasn't supposed to enter or why the event would be such a catastrophe. I ran past the graffiti scarred doors punctuating the corridor, eager not to miss the one I knew I had to stop her going through. 'Don't go in there,' I shouted. The doors became more infrequent until finally there was no more. There was nothing but the somehow horrifying green painted plaster of the walls on either side of me, sprouting horse-hair through a thousand fissures. I turned around but had woken up before I got to see what was happening behind me. Given the way the dream had been headed and the mind-reeling sense of disquiet I had on awakening, perhaps that was no bad thing... 

'It's your unconscious telling you you've been a bad boy.'

Alexis, to whom I had just recounted the bare bones of the dream, was crawling along the bed towards me. It was lunchtime. I'd just eaten out her pussy and the taste of her on my lips and the way her writhing hair obscured her face as she came closer made me desperate for her. 'You're scared she'll find out.' 

'I suppose,' I said. 'I don't know.' 

'Do you dream about me?' She sat astride my chest, reaching back to stroke the glans of my cock. My tongue curled over her pierced nipple, its tip passing through the hole of its ring. 

'You are a dream,' I said. Her body slipped back a few inches where she guided herself on to me. 

'You liar...' Her pubis ground against mine as if in anger at my having deceived her. Impaled, she drew herself upright, showing me the soft meat of her throat as her head snapped back diabolically. I felt myself beginning to come and I let it happen, the bliss of the orgasm smothering the unease I was beginning to feel...'Liar.' It was my ex's favourite word, although Cindy hadn't been averse to the occasional untruth herself...

'Oh fuck it, I was nearly there...' Alexis' exasperation was that of the child she had been only a few years before. I pulled her down to me, entrapping her hips with my legs, kissing her messily. Though her breath was fading mouthwash over resurgent halitosis, it was hers, and I sucked it in like a drowner. 

'You came already. When I kissed you down there.' 

'What's "down there"?' She squinted in amusement, her eyelashes entangled in mine. 

'Your...little Alexis.' 

'You know the thing about little Alexis, don't you?' 

'What's that?' 

'She can be a right cunt.' 

My deflating cock oozed out of her, bathed in the the honey of her vulva. 

'One of these days, I'm going to die up inside you,' I said. 

'You say the most fucked-up things.' She wriggled free and walked across the room, naked except for the stockings she had left on, picking up her clothes as she went before sitting down in an armchair by the door. 

'You never answered my question.' She stuck out her leg to pull on a boot. 'Where was I in this dream?'

'You were...' This was the part I hadn't told her, partly because I didn't know how to and partly because I didn't like thinking about it, as it was the chief source of the upset I had felt when I woke up. Alexis hadn't been in the dream but somehow it was about her. The mood, the landscape – it was all her, like a map of some unexplored portion of her where I wasn't sure I cared to venture. Which made no sense. Even though she had yet to leave, for instance, I already felt her impending absence like a hole through the centre of me. I couldn't remember ever having been in such helpless need of another. Why, then, the squeamishness? 

'I don't want to dream about you.' I climbed down from the bed and walked towards her as I had on that first morning. 'I need you to be real for me.' 

'I'm scared of real,' she said. She pressed her cheek against my stomach. 'Sometimes I don't want to feel it. How much I love you. It's like I'm losing my mind.' 

She had never used the word before. 

'I thought we were...'

'Mates?' She finished the sentence for me. 'Tell me that's what it feels like. You can't, can you?' 

I wanted to hold her but a despicable something made me let her go. 

'It's okay,' she said. 'I'm sorry. I can't keep my mouth shut.' 

'What are you apologizing for? For what you said? Or because you said it?' 

'Less of the mind-fuck, please,' she said. 'Oh God. This situation we're in is how unhealthy?' 

She started to laugh and so did I and the moment passed. But Jesus, sweetheart – why'd you have to go and say that? 

*

It was Sunday afternoon and Steph and I were in the local Harvester for our weekly carvery. The talk was of holidays – Steph had booked us in for two weeks in Portugal for the end of June. I feigned enthusiasm but the thought of two weeks without Alexis nearby was unbearable. She was going to Turkey in August with the girls, a prospect that filled me with a mysterious dread. As we waited for our food, Steph didn't make me feel any better by filling me in on Alexis' various mishaps overseas. There'd been quite a few.




The Old Man and His Wife



I would often walk alone in the Park in the summer holidays or at weekends in the fall. I liked being alone. On this particular day I was daydreaming of an incident on the bus the day before. A woman had sat down opposite me with her shopping bags on her lap and beside her. In her struggles she had parted her legs and I had been given a clear and wonderful view of her legs above her stockings and her rather baggy underclothes. The complicated stocking straps fascinated me. She saw me staring and closed her legs, but as she got up to leave she gave me another stare and parted her legs widely. I should have followed her, I suppose, to see if anything would develop. I didn't because I realized that was just desperation for any kind of sexual moment. It wouldn't happen again. That was all I was going to get. 

The next day, warm summer day, there I was lying down in the sun, to the West of a big Oak tree. Dreaming of legs, stocking tops, and even the evocative sight of the small bumps that were beginning to show on my sister's chest. I took a quick look around to see if the place was deserted enough for me to try a little masturbation. Those glimpses had lit a fire in my hormones. 

There was a man who seemed elderly to me at the time, but who was probably about 50, strolling across the large grass area toward me. I moved my hands away from my flies. He strolled by me and stopped. Had he seen me? Would there be trouble?

'Will you keep a watch out while I have a pee by the trees?' He asked. 'I'll give you a florin.' I gave him a careful look. He was clean, pleasant looking. Not much danger, and I might even get a glimpse of an adult penis to add to my library of fantasies. I got up and we walked to the trees. It wasn't the Florin, or his penis, really. It was the prospect of a new experience, although no glimpse he could offer could compete with what I really wanted -- a woman. We reached the trees and, after a quick look around he got his dick out. 

'Why don't you have a pee, too? He asked. I thought that was pretty naïve, but I didn't mind. I got my dick out, which was already semi-hard and he predictably moved a bit closer. Then he reached out and got hold of it, quite gently. He began to rub me, again quite gently. I got properly hard, but I noticed that he did not. These years later I realize he had lost the ability to have an erection. Then, I didn't remark on it.

After having another look around, he knelt down and took my dick in his mouth. Nice. I had heard of it, but never even seen it, let alone experienced it. I pushed my dick forward and he bobbed. It wasn't long before I came in his mouth. He seemed delighted, and we walked back over the big lawn to a central spot where we were too far away for casual passers-by to see us, and sat down. Then we lay facing on another. I don't think there were any other people in the park at all to notice or be suspicious. He got his limp dick out again and I massaged it for him, but it didn't get any harder. He massaged me, and I did. We talked. I never knew his name although from that point I knew him for two or three years. I now know that 'Penile Erectile Dysfunction' does not preclude masturbation. Then, I just sensed that he desperately needed to cum. I took his dick and began to masturbate him as firmly, but as gently, as I could. Eventually he came quite a lot, spurting over he grass. I had never seen a man cum before and was fascinated. He wanted me to suck his cock, but I wasn't ready. He sucked me off once more and we parted after making a date to meet later the coming week.

Once, during this time, we went to a more private place and he kept fingering my bottom. I was young and unlined then. I thought, well, why not? I knew he was a clean old codger. I dropped my pants and he tried to get enough of an erection to stuff it in me. It just would not get hard enough. The poor devil was nearly in tears. I wondered why he didn't go with one of the sad women who hung about on the High Street at pub closing time, but in retrospect I think he didn't want the chance of a prostitute laughing at his inability.

I was filled with compassion for him, but there was no homosexual 'love' involved. This was sexual relief and experience, and gentle, without threat or extreme passion. I wouldn't have cared for that, and neither would he. 

A few weeks later, as we lay down on the grass in the woods where we had found a very private spot, and, on an impulse, I took his dick in my mouth. It wasn't a bad sensation. It got a bit harder, and I persevered. He helped by vigorously rubbing the base. At last I felt it throbbing a little and kept up the steady bobbing. He came with a great sigh. It didn't taste nasty; although I wasn't sure I would do it for anyone else.

I sucked his cock for him a couple of times after that, but masturbating whilst sucking me seemed to give him as much satisfaction. Once, he did get it hard enough to try sodomy again, and I was willing. His blood sugar must have been low and got it in, but the excitement was too much and came at once. His face reflected the bliss he felt though, and to tell the truth I felt good about it too. Why not? He was a good man. We spoke, or rather I did, of how good it would be to touch a woman and to have her touch you. He volunteered the view that it was indeed very good, but that he didn't care for it these days. 

I didn't push the matter but hoped he might be able to help, and not long after that, to my astonishment, he did. He came to our meeting place in the park with a woman. She wasn't a young woman. Thin, poorly dressed. She was clutching a large handbag and looked fearful. It was his wife. I have no idea what story he told her, but she seemed to be, as many wives were in those days, completely subservient to her husband. We all sat down and talked. It was clear that he had primed her in some way. He motioned for me to do the same, and took his dick out. I thought, well, if she screams and makes a fuss, I could run faster than they can. 

My dick got hard and he told her to hold it. She did. She rubbed gently, still holding her handbag. He rubbed his own. The he told her to open her dress and let me touch her breasts. It was evident that there had been some preparation, because she had no bra. I fondled the little flat breasts she had and felt her hand squeeze my dick a little bit harder as she rubbed it, and I knew she could feel me get really hard. The old man saw the effect of all this and spoke to her quietly.

She took her hand off me and pulled up her dress, after a fearful look around. There was no one about. I was so excite I didn't even look at her sex, but heaved on top of her and felt her legs open to let me in. There was a moment of fumbling and badly aimed pokes and suddenly I was in her. It was shear bliss. I felt the warmth, the wetness, the sound of her breath, the feel of her thighs around me...the building of the moment and the sudden wonderful rush. It was so different from giving myself a hand, or even his mouth. He sat beside us, smiling and jerking his member.

After a few moments I got off her and helped her to sit up. I saw that she had relaxed. She was smiling and asked him for a cigarette. We talked a little, and I said that it was a wonderful and glorious experience and could we do it again, please? They murmured together for a little while. Then she said that I was a nice boy, and if it could be kept a secret, well it would be OK.

We met often after that. Not regularly. Once or twice we went to their small house where I experienced the joy of naked flesh pressed on to the other. I still helped the old man, and this was a kind of quid pro quo, I suppose.

After a couple of years, perhaps three, it all stopped. I walked past their house, and once even rang the bell, but there was no answer. They just disappeared. I never knew what happened to them, I never even knew their name. He was a very gentle and nice man, and she was a wonderful partner, more acquiescent than subservient, not full of faked passion, always in charge of herself. They never once made any sexual gesture to each other. I wonder why that was?



The Old Man and the Sea



I honestly don't know why I've gotten off on this Hemingway kick. And, I can't think of any story that would be harder to adapt than the Old Man and the Sea. Nevertheless, I like writing challenges. So of course I had to try it. 

This is a long piece. I needed the room to develop the story. I could have placed it in "romance", or even in "supernatural" but I enjoy the comments that I get when I post in the fiery cauldron of "loving wives" so I am putting it there. 

One bit of housekeeping, I appear to have had a problem with my profile. Which explains why I stopped getting e-mail in the early fall. I apologize to anybody who wrote to me and didn't get a reply. I was not intentionally trying to be an asshole. I do that very well without any conscious effort on my part. 

It's all fixed now and I will try to answer any message sent to me. I hope you enjoy - DT 

*****************

Key West Today

I was drinking a Papa Doble and sitting in Captain Tony's thinking about life. The hundreds of autographed bras hanging from the ceiling ought to tell you all you need to know about the ambience of the place.

The building itself has been everything from an ice-house to a whore-house. 

The current incarnation dates back to Hemingway's day. It was originally called Sloppy Joes. But the landlord raised the annual rent a buck. 

So the owner took the entire saloon, lock, stock and name, down Greene Street to the present location. 

The legend goes that Hemingway stayed put in the original building, which eventually came to be named after Tony Tarracino who was an even bigger Key West character than Ernie. 

The legend also has it that Martha Gellhorn paid the bartender twenty bucks to be introduced to Hemingway there. 

That led to a flaming affair, while the two of them were covering the Spanish Civil War. 

And that affair was what ended Hemingway's marriage to his second wife Pauline Pfeiffer, who had stolen him in turn from his first wife Hadley Richardson. 

So obviously the 1960s didn't invent fucking around on your spouse. 

I was living on my boat, which was tied up at a slip down at the Conch Harbor Marina. I chose that spot because it was easy walking, or sometimes crawling distance from my customary watering holes up and down Duval. 

The boat itself is a C&C 40 which is a handful for solo cruising. But I am an excellent sailor and I wanted the room. 

I brought it down the Atlantic Inter-costal three years earlier. And short of a Cuban invasion I was planning on staying put. 

My buddy Buster was my sole companion. He also happens to be my best friend. 

He weighs about 120 pounds and he looks like his former job was guarding the gates of Hell. But he is utterly sweet, gentle and loving beneath his scary exterior. 

The best part about my big smelly buddy is that he would never leave me. Which is more than I could say about any of the women in my life.

________________________________

Paradise Lost

It all started at an elite Midwest University. I didn't get into that place because I was rich or smart. I got into it because I was very fast in the water. 

I would have rather been outstanding in any other sport. But unfortunately I was a fish. So I spent hours marinating in chlorine, building up long smooth muscles that made me look streamlined, not powerful. 

I wasn't a lion. I was a sea-lion.

And because the sport of swimming requires extraordinary physical endurance I had to spend every waking hour stroking up and down a pool while some sadistic bastard yelled insults at me. 

He called it "coaching."

I have to admit that the sport ensured that I didn't carry an ounce of fat. But at six four. I was built less like a Greek god and more like a human torpedo. A

nd since the aim was to reduce drag I had in effect also invented the skin head.

Needless to say I was not likely to be voted king of the homecoming court. Or even find a date.

Scholarship athletes were all housed in one dormitory. And my luck being what it was, I drew a football player. 

Story of my life. I could have gotten a fellow swimmer, or a soccer player, or a gymnast. Or anybody else besides an arrogant asshole. 

Brad was not hard to live with. That was because he spent his days hanging around at the local jock fraternity with his fellow Neanderthals. 

But when he WAS around the room he treated me like an inconvenient piece of furniture. I especially enjoyed the nights that he decided to get laid. 

Very early in our association he informed me that if he had his tie hanging on the door I was not to enter. So most nights I would sit and study in the common room until 2 AM, while the moans and shrieks wafted down the hall. 

And then I was allowed to fall asleep to the pervasive odor of pussy. 

His argument was that he would do the same thing for me. Which was a laugh since I had never actually had the pleasure. 

Like I said, being a gangly human torpedo has its drawbacks in the sexual experience department. 

I had a few girls who would condescend to go out with me. But there were rarely second dates. I am not sophisticated. And I had nothing to recommend me beyond the fact that I was a scholarship jock. 

The problem was that I was in a sport that was anything but glamorous.

Every Saturday afternoon, Brad, who was the university's quarterback, would do heroic things in front of 100,000 screaming fans. 

You watch swimming every four years at the Olympics. It mostly involves people standing around. And it typically draws as many viewers as the bike racing. 

Plus, the only thing that anybody sees is splashing and the occasional view of a face frantically gasping for air. 

Perhaps you can understand why Brad was fucking a lot of hot coeds. And my romantic moments were limited to my hand. 

The one good thing about my situation was that I was never under the illusion that I would be doing anything other than going to work after college. Swimming was just a means to an end. So I hit the books, while Brad spent his time socializing. 

Brad, was thinking about the millions he was going to make in the NFL. Needless to say he ended up selling life insurance.

Toward the end of my junior season I came back from the library. And there was the ubiquitous tie. 

I had a meet the following day. And I was not in a mood. So I banged on the door. 

The urgent moaning stopped and a couple of seconds later I heard Brad's voice yell, "I'm busy. Go away!!" 

I was pissed. So I yelled right back, "I have a meet tomorrow and I need some sleep. Take it someplace else. You have five minutes." 

I heard a questioning female voice and grumbling from him but it sounded like they were getting their shit together preparatory to putting it on the road. 

So I just leaned on the wall and waited. 

Disheveled doesn't begin to describe what emerged. 

Brad gave me a pissed off look. I didn't care. I am a half-a-head taller than he is. So it was never a matter of physical intimidation. 

I said as sarcastically as possible, "thanks' and started into the room. 

That was when I really looked at who he had been fucking. 

Most of Brad's conquests are the usual sorority skanks and football groupies. They wander the campus in herds. Every one of them is hot. But their faces tend to blend together into a universal blur of "pretty". 

This was a completely different breed of cat. 

She had thick copper hair that disappeared down her back in healthy waves. The totally perfect state of her hair was amazing in itself, given the fact that she had been getting seriously fucked a mere five minutes earlier. 

I think it was her eyes though. 

I am not usually a fan of pure redheads. That milky skin and all of those freckles scare me. But when I looked into her superb emerald eyes there was real heat and intelligence. She almost seemed amused. 

She gave me an appraising nod. Then she and my roommate executed an archetypal walk of shame toward the elevator. I was sure my roomie was headed for Plan-B, the jock fraternity. 

I fell asleep to the accustomed smell of sex. 

It was more disturbing than usual. It must have been her pheromones. But I almost felt jealous of the moron. 

I didn't run into her again until the last few days of that semester. 

I was at the classic fraternity kegger. I lived in the dorms because I was on scholarship. But the fraternities like to have varsity athletes around as display items. And there were even a couple of houses that courted swimmers as affiliate members. 

Needless to say they were the minor fraternities. Not the prestigious jock houses, or the snooty frats that my social betters hung out at. 

I was standing in my usual party position, which was holding up a wall with my back. 

I had one of those 16 ounce Solo cups full of a yellow foamy substance, which I was praying was beer. It was hard to tell. 

She walked in with some species of frat-rat. 

I had only gotten a passing glance at her as she and my roomie exited the building. But I was impressed by her twitching buns. Now that I had a chance to fully check her out I was blown away. 

She was gorgeous. But then again, most of the coeds you see around a frat party are by-and-large attractive. 

Nevertheless, it was something in this one's manner that set her apart. She radiated total self-assurance and absolute femininity in the way that she walked and held herself. 

Then she started to dance with the dude. 

She was only about five foot two but she had extraordinary muscled legs and very tight round hips. The rest of her was lithe and nubile but it was that perfectly proportioned face and those sparkling green eyes that had me mesmerized. 

A cooler guy might have gone over and tried to cut-in. But I am socially retarded, hence my little virginity problem. So I just stood there staring at her. 

I believe that women are equipped with some sort of special antenna that tells them when they are being scanned. 

She was in the middle of putting her arms over her head and grinding her pussy on her date. It was like she had lifted the move out of a "Step Up" movie. 

The date looked blissful to say the least. 

Anyhow, she glanced up alert, like she had sensed something, and looked directly at me. 

I was not looking into the typical vacant coed eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing. She was like a cat toying with a mouse. 

Something passed across her face. I am sure she was used to being stared at. So it wasn't the gaping. But I got a sense that I had disturbed her. 

I am not socially equipped to deal with angry females. If she was going to give me outrage I was going to get the fuck out of there. 

So I circulated out of the main room and moved to a chair in a little side room. Later in the evening that room turns into the make-out spot so it was dark. The only light came from the open door. 

The night was still young so it was just me and my beer at that point. 

I was trying to decide what my next move ought to be when she poked her head around the corner. It gave me the impression that she was looking for somebody, probably her date. 

No such luck. 

I was sitting there doing my best "lone wolf" imitation. When she spotted me. Then she very purposefully marched over to confront me. I rose from the couch. It was a protection move. 

She stood in front of me in that classic aggressive female posture; feet apart, with hands on hips thrust slightly toward me. 

She silently looked me up and down. Actually it was kind of funny. I was a full 14 inches taller than she was. So she was checking me out like she was appraising a horse. I almost expected her to pry open my mouth and count my teeth. 

Not a word was said. 

Then she spun around and marched out of the room leaving me standing there gawking. I was totally blown away by the power and spirit in those eyes.

I eventually got my act together and followed her. But when I got into the main room she was back to dry humping her date. I headed home.

I had never met a female who troubled me so much. I mostly go with the flow. But I couldn't stop thinking about her. 

So the next day I asked Brad.

I said, "I ran into that hot little red-head you fucked last month. What's her story?"

He laughed and said, "She's a freak. That's her story."

I said, "Freak? What do you mean by THAT? Is she kinky?"

He said in his usual dismissive tone, "Any woman who isn't grateful after I've fucked her is a freak. 

"She was an absolute animal when we were together. Then when I called her up for a rematch she totally blew me off. It was like I was bothering her."

Since that is the way Brad treats all of his conquests I wasn't sure who had conquered who.

I said, "Do you know her name?"

He said, "Kari Winter, but you aren't going to have a chance with her."

I said, "Why not? I know I'm not YOU but I have had the occasional woman." 

I was lying of course.

He said, "Because she only dates awesome guys like me, not dweebs like you, no offense."

I said, "None taken." 

What could I say? Brad was a conceited prick. I would have done better arguing with an orangutan.

He said, "She's probably fucked eight guys that I know of beside me. And everybody says that she's the hottest piece of ass they've ever had. She is way out of your league."

I smiled sardonically and said, "Just asking." And I filed Miss Kari Winter away in the big pile of women who I knew to "avoid at all costs."

Early in my senior year I was stepping up on the blocks for the 200 fly, which is definitely NOT my best event. 

As I customarily do I looked into the sparse crowd. 

And who should I see sitting there but Kari Winter. 

She waved. 

I false started. 

Actually I more-or-less fell face first into the pool.

After that ignominious beginning I dragged myself back on the blocks and set an individual, pool and conference record. 

I knew what the motivation was. But there was no way I was going to admit it. 

Of course, I had to acknowledge her presence later that evening. 

I came out of the locker room and she was standing there. I am not totally dense. I knew that I would have to say something. So I walked over toward her.

She turned and sashayed away before I got there. 

As she turned to walk away she said over her shoulder, "Follow me." 

There wasn't the slightest question that I would NOT follow her.

She was wearing a pair of beaten out jeans that probably cost 300 bucks to get the tears in the right place. 

The most strategic ones were the 4 inch horizontal rips right at the place where her big round butt cheeks joined her muscular legs. 

I followed along watching those rips move up and down. It was hypnotic.

We were walking into a little ornamental park between two of the dorms. She got to a secluded bench and sat down. I came up and stood in front of her. 

It was one of those unspeakably beautiful early fall evenings in Michigan. Still warm with a soft breeze wafting the scent of burning leaves. I could hear the katydids and crickets busily chirping in the manicured shrubbery and smell the freshly turned earth beneath it. 

I looked at her inquiringly. She said, "Sit down, we need to talk."

I looked at her even more questioningly and said truly puzzled, "Why?"

I was aware that the woman was campus royalty. Anybody who has ever attended college knows what I'm talking about. 20,000 students knew her name. Every female wanted to be like her. And every male just plain wanted to HAVE her. 

I sat.

She said in a reproachful voice, "Are you gay?"

I spluttered, "WHAT??!! OF COURSE NOT!!"

She said, "Then why haven't you made a play for me? Why haven't you asked me out?"

This conversation was a waste of time. 

I cut right to the chase. I said, "Women like you don't date guys like me. You're miles out of my league and we both know it. So why should I give you the satisfaction of turning me down?"

She looked disgusted and said, "I'm supposed to decide that - not you. What makes you think that I wouldn't want to go out with you? I've been attracted to you from the moment we met."

Okay, so where was the camera? I knew that I was on an episode of Punk'd.

Neither Kutcher nor Goldberg stepped out of the bushes.

Kari just kept on talking. She said, "I assume you know my reputation? The moron that you are living with must have filled you in about me. 

"I admit that I have kissed a lot of frogs over the past four years. And so far I haven't found any princes. Just randy frat boys and jocks. 

"I was hoping that maybe you'd be different."

She actually looked vulnerable. That had to be an optical illusion. 

I said, "Brad's a well-known dumb shit. I wouldn't listen to a word that he said. 

"But I also know that you are considered to be the hottest female on campus. You could have any guy eighteen to eighty in the surrounding tri-county area. 

"So what is it about me that you find so interesting?" 

My tone of voice conveyed my ultra-skepticism.

She said, "You are a star athlete but you don't seem to know it. You spend your time in the library preparing for life, not going to parties. You are big and good looking. And I like completely bald men." 

The last was said with a kittenish smile. 

I knew that everybody called me the "bald eagle" behind my back because of my big nose and shaved head.

She added, "What isn't there to like?"

Well, that was an astonishing state of affairs. 

I said, "Let me get this straight. You want to try out a real boy-girl date because you think I'm interesting? 

"I know that sounds a little self-doubting but I am still not believing what I am hearing here."

She looked appraisingly at me and said with irony, "And, the boy is delightfully insecure."

I took a good look at her. From the top of her thick copper hair to the tip of her bright red painted toenails, this woman was a movie star. 

Notwithstanding her legendary performances in bed she was also clearly smart, confident and very comfortable in her own perfect skin. 

With all of that faultlessness the only question was, "Why me?" 

She was looking at me quizzically, like she wanted an answer.

So I thought to myself, "Stop being such a weenie and just ask her out!!" 

I sucked it up and said, "Okay, let's go out. I'll pick you up tomorrow and we can try this on for size. 

But I am warning you that the instant you don't show me the proper respect I am taking you home."

She said a little irritated, "Respect? What does that mean?"

I said, "You know what I'm talking about. You are going to be hit on multiple times while we are together tomorrow. When you do, I want you to remember that you are with me."

She actually looked impressed. She said, "So no flirting or leading other men on, I promise." And she gave me an impish grin.

I picked her up at her apartment the following evening. She had rich parents and so she lived in an off campus apartment by herself. 

I didn't want to think about the events that might have gone on in that place. 

I wanted to do my happy dance. Not be eaten up by jealousy even before I rang her buzzer.

She greeted me at the door. She was in a little clubbing dress that would have been demure on my sister. But the way she looked in it set off indescribable waves of yearning in me. 

She is not well endowed. But what she had was full and neatly gathered in two beautiful little mounds on her chest. 

Nevertheless, her long waist and lithe round hips and perfect muscular legs were all anybody would notice. And the dress displayed her assets without looking the slightest bit slutty. 

Her four inch heels only made those legs look rounder and fuller. 

But of course it was her face and those eyes that captivated me. 




The Old Man and the Sea



She said lightly, "Are you going to stand there gawking, or are we leaving?" 

I said, "We're leaving but you are absolutely stunning." 

She dimpled - God! She even had cute dimples - snatched her little clutch purse and we left. 

What can you say about the evening when you meet "The One"? 

We talked all the way to the restaurant. It turns out that she was the daughter of two LA lawyers and she was at the University to do the full Law School route. 

She also turned out to be very smart, intellectually curious and she had a fabulous sense of humor. 

She said that she dated slugs like Brad because they were the only guys who asked her out. 

Unfortunately I could see what she was talking about. I'm a normal guy. And I wouldn't even consider approaching a woman like her, let alone dating her. 

She said that any guy who she DID go out with got one date. And if they were not interesting or sufficiently clever then that was it. 

Which explained her one time with Brad. 

She said that the kind of date that she had with Brad didn't happen often. But it DID happen. Which was why she had run up the score with all of the local studs. 

I wasn't buying any of that. It sounded like a rationalization. 

So I said, "Do you always fuck them on the first date?" I was being an asshole but I was certain that I would never see her again.

She looked a little hurt and said, "I know it seems that way. But I could go out with a different guy every day of the week and twice on Sundays. 

"Brad is yummy and he was very insistent. Plus I was drunk. I would never have fucked him otherwise. He just doesn't cut it in the grey-matter department. I didn't even consider a second date with him."

I kind of understood all of that. Kari was just THAT attractive. And she was white-hot. You could tell that in every move she made. 

Her sensuality was obvious. Even in the simple things that she did from getting into the car to the way she held the menu at dinner. 

A lot of women are either neutral about sex, or they don't like it. Kari radiated total mastery of the bedroom arts. And there was nothing about the act of sex that frightened her. She was supremely self-confident.

I could see where lesser women would want to burn her at the stake

It was obvious to both of us that we were connecting on a lot of levels. She was such a delightful companion that her extreme beauty and sexuality quickly faded into the background. 

We were both dedicated students. We both had a long term perspective on life. We cared about serious matters. And most important of all Kari loved to laugh. She was openly passionate in the way she enjoyed every aspect of life. 

I couldn't have asked to spend the evening with a better friend, or more interesting companion. And for a short time I believed that she felt the same way. 

That was until Rayford Johnson dropped by our table. He was frat-boy extraordinaire. Alpha dog in the pack of self-important over-entitled douchebags who inhabited that school. 

And he made it obvious that he had a long and very sweaty history with Kari.

He came smirking up to the table and without even looking at me said, "Hi, Kari, we're having a party at the house tonight and there are a lot of guys who would LOVE to see you there." 

I didn't have to be a savant to read between THOSE lines. The top off my head almost blew off like one of those cartoon thermometers. 

She gave me a quick secret glance and then looked up at him bewildered, like she couldn't place him. 

Finally, she got one of those head-smacking d'oh looks on her face and said, "Oh yes, your name is Ray isn't it? 

"What would make you think that I would want to waste my time with the boys in your silly little fraternity Ray? 

"When I can be out with a REAL man? 

"Ray meet Danny." 

I rose to shake his hand. The one advantage that I have over most guys is my height. And I was well over a half foot taller and maybe 30 pounds heavier than he was, just big enough to be intimidating. 

I stuck out my paw in a friendly fashion and said, "Pleased to meet you Ray. I'm sorry but I'm planning to take up Kari's time from now on." 

Where in the heck did THAT come from?!!

He looked me up and down and sneered, "All you're going to do is join a long line of guys who have fucked her." 

Then without shaking my hand he spun and walked away. He was pissed. How delightful.

I sat back down and said as sarcastically as I could, "Nice fellow."

If Ray was pissed, Kari was absolutely foaming at the mouth. 

She said, "He's a total asshole. I don't know what I was thinking. Like I said, I have kissed a lot of frogs looking for a prince. That one was more like a horny toad." 

Then her face softened. She reached across the table and took my hand. 

She said with genuine emotion playing across those incredible emerald eyes, "And I think I've finally found him. Can we skip the dancing and just go back to my place?"

Which created a major dilemma. 

I'm not bad looking and I am tall and well-built if you like them aerodynamic. 

You almost wouldn't believe that I was a 22 year old virgin, would you? 

But as I said, I was either studying, or swimming and I am not exactly the most self-confident guy in the world. Especially when it comes to women. So I had never shed my amateur status.

I am sure that Kari would expect a performance similar to what she had gotten from the dozen or so guys who had taken advantage of her gorgeous body. 

And I didn't even know how to step out on stage, let alone act. 

We went back to her place and she got me a beer. We sat on the couch in her living room and talked some more. She kept looking expectantly at me.

I finally decided that it was time to lay my cards on the table. 

She had been brutally frank with me. And I needed to give her the same respect by confessing my total LACK of experience with no less ruthless honesty. 

I said, "I know what you are thinking. And I have a secret that I have to get off my chest first." 

She looked at me in horror. It was like she thought that I was about to confess that I really WAS gay. 

I moved closer to her on the couch and took her little hand in both of mine. I hesitated. I didn't want the time with her to end. 

In the meantime she was backing away with anxiety written all over her face. I could see that she was thinking that I was going to tell her that I'd like to see her hogtied in a rubber suit, or something like that. 

I said," I hate to admit it. But I'm still a virgin."

I could tell by her response that was the last thing she expected me to say. 

I probably could have announced that I was really from the planet Hoth and I would have gotten a less surprised reaction. 

How could a modern college male make it all the way to his 22nd year and not have had sex at least once? I was mortified.

Then she began to laugh. First the mirth came into her eyes. Then it took over her entire face. And finally her whole body was convulsed in uncontrollable paroxysms of laughter.

Okay, that was roundly insulting!! I didn't come here to be laughed at. 

I started to rise in a huff. But she grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. 

I was off balance so I fell face first on her big couch. 

As I fell, SHE was arranging herself so that I would fall on top of her. Her legs were spread incredibly wide. 

I immediately pushed myself up on my arms to take my weight off of her. In the meantime she was frantically scrambling around with her hands in the area of my zipper. 

The next thing I knew I felt an extremely hot and wet sensation on a part of my anatomy that had never experienced such an amazing, out-of-this-world feeling before. 

She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me down to an open mouthed kiss that duplicated the wonderful phenomenon that I was feeling at the other extreme. It was like she was totally open to me on both ends. 

I had watched enough porn that I had the process in concept, if not actual practice. So I began the age old motion stroking in and out of that fiery three centimeters of paradise. She went absolutely nuts.

She threw her head back, mouth wide open making extreme effort noises. It was like she was choking to death. 

Then she let out an unearthly cry and threw her legs around my hips and her arms around my neck in a way that she was plastered to me from shoulder to pussy like a spider monkey.

I don't use a word like "abandoned" very often. But that was how she gave herself to me. 

I was probably lucky that I had never had sex before because I didn't know what to expect. And the fact that I wasn't distracted by how she was reacting slowed my own release a lot. 

Maybe ALL women acted like that? 

On the other hand Kari would buck shout, and quiver wordlessly. Then she would go right back to throwing her hips up at me. 

That motion is very similar to what you do in the water and I have the endurance that you get from all those years of doing it. 

So I just kept on-and-on and she kept bucking, shouting and quivering. 

I finally looked at her face. She had the drawn expression of somebody who was s right on the ragged edge of losing it. She was exhausted. 

She started saying with urgency in her voice, "Cum Danny, You have to cum in me NOW. I can't take it any longer. Please cum. PLEASE!!" 

Those must have been the magic words because what followed was an experience that made all of those lonely nights of self-flagellation seem like a firecracker next to the detonation of a hydrogen bomb. 

I pounded on her like I was trying to break her. She took me to the hilt making hoarse grunting noises as I came. 

I rolled off her the moment I got some rationality back. I am easily 100 pounds heavier and well over a foot taller and I didn't want to smother her.

She was lying on her back, legs spread wide and pussy leaking cum like a river. 

That sight would have appeared wanton except she was out colder than that proverbial mackerel. I thought, "Great, I've met the girl of my dreams and killed her!!"

I rushed frantically into her bathroom and got a cold wash rag. She was still just lying there. 

Her delectable chest was rising and falling with great intensity and her nipples were like little pink acorns. I considered that a good sign. 

I pushed her gorgeous legs together, while examining her fertile hips and hard stomach. 

I'm a GUY. I notice those things. 

And I began to gently bathe her forehead. She came back to me slowly, like she had been someplace long ago and far away. 

Those incredible emerald eyes focused and then she gasped. She said with wonder in her voice, "What did you do to me? I have never experienced anything like that in my life." 

I shrugged lamely and said, "I don't know. I've never had sex before."

She smiled weakly and said, "Well whatever you did I want you to do it to me over and over again. When you make a woman cum like that, she wants to be yours for life. 

"Now lie down here with me and hold me. I obediently turned on my side and she snuggled those big round rock hard buns into me, she wrapped my arms around herself and went right off to sleep."

I lay there for a little while sensing her enticing smells and feeling her little jerks as she slept and I was scared shitless. 

There would never be another woman for me. But I had only known her for a day and I had no idea what to do next.

That was answered for me the next morning. 

I awoke on a bright sunny fall morning. Her apartment was the ground floor of one of those old mansion-like houses in town. So the windows were 19th century floor to ceiling large, not the dinky little openings you see in modern houses. 

And the sun was just streaming into the room.

She was lying in my arms in the same position that I had been holding her when we fell asleep. 

But there was a new feature. I was sporting a hard-on that must have been using up 90% of the blood in my body. And it was jammed in the crack of her exquisite round ass.

I was trying to figure out a way to shift her onto the couch without waking her up when she moved. And what had been an embarrassing poking of her butt-crack became an extremely stimulating poking of her nether lips. 

I swear she was sound asleep but as soon as I touched the entrance to her hole she moaned loudly and said sleepily, "Ahhhh yesss that's it!! Fuck me!!" and she arched her back, pushed her ass at me and I was suddenly hilted in a very hot and totally wet pussy. 

That produced a snort of epic proportions and her head turned back toward me eyes wide open in surprise. 

She moaned loudly and threw her top leg over mine and her body back against me so that she was lying mostly on top of me. 

Then SHE began to thrust herself back against me in a frantic bucking motion that ended perhaps 30 seconds later in her loudly yelling, "Oh God YESSSSSS!!" 

And the high frequency quivering started again. It was like she was being electrocuted. As she worked through her orgasm her butt cheeks were frantically clenching on top of my lower stomach and her passage was fluttering with little nips and ripples. 

Finally she just lay limply on top of me panting. 

I was still hard as a rock but I had no desire to cum. I just wanted to worship her. I couldn't imagine the kind of inner fire and feminine spirit that could generate that kind of sexuality. 

I slowly withdrew. She moaned loudly all the way out.

She rolled off me to lie on her back on the broad couch. I propped myself up on one elbow. 

I looked into the perfect face and she was looking back at me with apprehension. 

I said, "You are a dream girl, far more wonderful than I deserve. I'll understand if this is the only night. Since I will cherish what we shared for the rest of my life."

She looked at me like I was an idiot and said merrily, "What gave you the idea that you will EVER get away from me? YOU have no choice in this matter. 

"I have finally found my prince. You are mine and I will never let you go. We are going to be together forever."

I know it was naïve and impulsive but we were kids. And we absolutely believed that we would die in each other's arms. 

I never spent another night in the dorms. She had a lovely spacious place and I just packed my things and moved in that same day. 

We married at the end of the semester and we spent the following three and a half years living a blissful married life.

I would occasionally run into Brad on campus and he would give me a look like he couldn't figure it out. 

Brad couldn't figure most things out so that was not rare. 

I cared not a damn that he and a dozen others had fucked my wife. I knew that I was the last man who was going to fuck her. 

How did I know that? 

She spent our entire time together trying to find better and more creative ways to show me how much she was mine. 

For instance, after we were married I still had to travel overnight for away meets. 

By all rights Kari should have stayed home and partied with her friends. 

But she wanted to show me that she was devoted to me and me alone. 

So she spent her parent's money to travel to watch me and stay in the same hotels. The coaches patrolled the halls. Consequently we were chaste the nights that we were on the road. But it was the thought that counted.

We graduated together and celebrated her admission to law school with two weeks in Jamaica. 

Because she was still in school I decided to go all the way in my field too. So, I got into a doctoral program. 

We attended class all day, studied all evening and fucked all night. 

She was my princess and I was her prince. 

That was why it was so profoundly tragic when she was killed two days after she graduated. 

You never think about the anguish that any given day might bring. 

You kiss your beloved wife as she goes out the door for her daily run. And the next time you see her is in the morgue. 

All of that beauty, all of that energy, all of that potential and all of that love of life lying broken on an uncaring slab. 

That's the way things really work. There are never any guarantees. 

One-in-a-million circumstance - perhaps. But that's life. We ping off each other like so many random billiard balls. 

Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Sometimes you lose big-time. 

He was a drunken package delivery guy who claimed he didn't see her. His blood alcohol level was 0.19. He did three and a half years for vehicular homicide. And I got $1.6 million dollars in blood money from his company. 

Thus ended my happiness.

________________________________

March or Die

We buried her in a beautiful little spot on a hill in southern California. It was near where her parents lived. I flew out with her and I went through the whole tear filled ceremony. 

Danny Jones was nothing more than a ghost now. I might as well have been buried with her.

Her parents were sympathetic, nay loving. They knew what we meant to each other. But they had their own special grief. Kari was their only child, their hopes, dreams and immortality. 

They had the same haunted, despairing, tortured look that I had.

I plodded along after that because life is ruthless. You either march, or you die. 

I was afraid of dying so I marched. Albeit VERY unwillingly.

Nonetheless, all of the fairy tale certainties were behind me now. 

I had honestly believed that my life would work out. Through fantastic good fortune I had met and married my soul mate. Our children would be beautiful and our lives would be fulfilling. 

But the Gods laugh at human pretense. 

Instead, I fell through all nine levels of Dante's hell.

Looking back over 50 years I NOW know that you move through a series of distinctly separate rooms in life. 

The room you are in is your present reality. And it seems like you have always been there. Even if the room that you were FORMERLY in was poles apart. 

It isn't a matter of forgetting your past. It is more a case of the demands of human existence perpetually overwriting your situational memory. 

That was the case with me. I had closed the door of paradise. Never to go back in my lifetime. 

Because I had nothing to live for I threw myself into my work. Swimming had taken up a lot of time when I was an undergraduate. As a result I did okay academically, but not great. 

Now that I had all the time in the world and nobody to share it with I found that I was exceptional. 

Kari was never far from my mind. So I dedicated the things that I did in life to her. Thus, after I got the Doctorate I did what all good little PhDs do. I started trolling for faculty jobs. 

I didn't need to work. Between insurance and the settlement I could have lived comfortably on the interest. It was just that I was agonizingly alone. I HAD to do something to keep my sanity. 

Given the quality of my degree and my research I had my choice of places. But I thought that I could make the most difference inside the Beltway. So I eventually took a position at a university in Fairfax Virginia.

Every good school demands the traditional tenure death march. I did that. And by the time it was granted I was 35 years old. 

I recognized that I would be doing the exact same thing, year-after-year, for 40 or 50 years. Contemplating the emptiness in front of me was like looking at a trek through the Gobi Desert without water.

They say that you actually die when the last living person forgets you. 

That's why people like Alexander the Great and Julius Caesar have "The Immortal" stuck in front of their names. 

My only goal was to keep Kari's memory alive. 

She was never far from my thoughts. Although my actual life passed in a blur of mundane. 

No matter where I was and what I was doing she was still very much alive in the world I lived in. 




The Old Man and the Sea



I would sometimes even talk to her, just like she was standing next to me. 

I am sure that the tall, unmarried Professor with the odd habit of mumbling to himself caused the occasional rumor about my sanity. But I didn't care. She was always with me, and I felt what I felt. 

Then one day, after twenty-four long years I felt differently.

_________________________________

Humpty Dumpty

In my forty-ninth year I had transitioned from a young muscular slim, to a middle aged still-in- very-good-shape slim. 

I had grown my hair out as soon as I finished competing. And it was kind of unkempt and shaggy. 

It was ironic that I had gone from being totally bald as a young man to a thick head of dirty blond hair in my middle age. 

I still swam at the University pool. But it was nothing like I did when I was a kid. I was simply trying to stay in shape. 

One day I was stroking along in a relaxed backstroke, just to cool down after my workout, when a woman appeared on the pool-deck. 

She was obviously planning to swim down the lane next to me. I only had a momentary glance as she set her swim goggles and dove in but she was stunning.

Kari was a little woman at five-two. This one was closer to five-ten. Kari had the silky white skin of the redhead. This woman was dusky and Italian looking. 

But the main difference was in the size of her tits. 

Kari had normal size, beautifully shaped breasts. This woman's chest would stop traffic. She was straight up and down, the word "lean" comes to mind. But her boobs were massive. 

I just assumed that she had extensive work done to get mountains as astonishing as the two objects that were underneath her TYR competition swim suit. There was no sag whatsoever. 

She proceeded to glide past me with a beautiful relaxed stroke. I was more impressed by her swimming than her tits. Which should give you some idea of what a good swimmer she was.

I had finished my workout. So I climbed out of the pool. But I had to pause a minute and watch her. 

She was as sleek as a seal, long legs and waist and her powerful stroke indicated that she was probably another former college swimmer, with all of the physical benefits that imparted. 

I found myself hoping to see her again. 

That was an astonishing reaction.I had no interest in women for the decade after Kari was taken from me. 

Once you have experienced a woman like Kari the others pale by comparison. It would be like going from steak to oatmeal. 

In the subsequent ten years I tried to get back to a normal life. It was an absolute waste of time. I had my one shot at the brass ring and fate had chosen to snatch it out of my hand. 

There was simply no going back.

Nevertheless, this new woman piqued my interest. It was her freestyle stroke that drew me in more than her incredible body. But I felt some stirring in my soul on that common ground. 

However, notwithstanding the fact that I did my workouts at the same time, I did not see her again.

I finally ran into her several weeks later at the most unlikely of places. 

I was attending one of those interminable faculty parties. I was there by command performance, personally requested by the Dean. Otherwise I would have been anywhere else. 

I was standing against my usual wall and holding the ubiquitous glass of sherry. They always serve sherry at events like that. I guess they figure that you won't get too drunk at the rate of two ounces per drink. 

I was gazing vacantly at the room wishing I could be any place but where I was. When the Dean appeared in front of me. 

He looks like a hamster and is about as smart as one. But he is a true savant at faculty politics and political ass-kissing. So you had to take him seriously. 

He had a woman in tow. 

He said, "Danny, I want you to meet Janet Lucca, she was just hired in your Department and since you are an old hand I want you to show her around - maybe mentor her a bit."

I shifted my gaze and it was the mystery woman from the pool. 

The Gods spend a lot of time laughing their asses off at me. 

She was taller than the Hamster with thick dark auburn hair cut into a preppy bob. She was also wearing the full preppy regalia, cashmere cardigan sweater over the obligatory white button-down oxford shirt, grey pencil skirt and 3 inch heels. 

She looked like she had just stepped out of the J.Crew catalogue. And she was stunning.

She was clearly working as hard as she could to understate that body. But that would be an impossibility. Her chest was just too big. 

The impressive string of black pearls around her long neck was pointing in my general direction rather than toward her feet as they should. 

I said, "Sure boss." And the Hamster wandered off, his duty done.

I turned to her and I stuck out my hand. Trying to keep my voice neutral I said, "Danny Jones at your service."

She looked amused and said, "I saw you at the pool so you don't need to act like you don't know me."

I grinned and said, "That was an impressive stroke, did you do that in college?"

She said, "I swam four years at Berkeley." 

Well-well-well a fellow traveler. I said, "I did the same thing in Ann Arbor. But it was probably ten, or fifteen years before your time." 

She said, "I was an undergrad twelve years ago." 

So - it was more like fifteen.

We then launched into an hour long series of war stories. Which led to an evening at the Willow restaurant down Fairfax from the campus. 

By the time the evening was over I knew that she had an exceptional sense of humor and that she was an expert in the policy end of tradecraft. She also had a degree from the Ridge School, which is in Erie Pennsylvania. 

It's a top school in the field but seriously, Erie??!!

I also knew that she was gorgeous. 

When I tore my gaze away from her bouncers I was looking at a perfect oval face and very dark, almost black eyes. Those eyes held the same kind of intelligence that my Kari had. Her mouth was lasciviously sensual. 

She was like the hottest preppie ever born. 

For the first time in 24 years I sensed an attraction. 

She was a new-hire and had only been in town for three weeks. She was still living in a long-stay hotel while she looked for a place. That search was complicated by the fact that she had no idea where anything was. 

The next day was a Saturday and I made arrangements to meet her for breakfast at the IHOP down from the Ballston stop on the Metro. 

I chose that place because it was easy for her to get to from Clarendon. But coincidentally it is also a regular clandestine meeting place for the big-shots at the alphabet agencies in the area. 

She was dressed in preppy casual today, archetypal chinos and one of those distinctive cardigans with the blue, red and yellow diamond pattern over a light blue turtle-neck, topsiders on her feet. Light gold chain around her neck. 

She was striking in a Xena-Warrior-Princess-goes-to-Wellesley kind of way.

She had gone all-out with the makeup and I had to upgrade the face from gorgeous to unearthly. That was mainly because of her eyes. Those eyes were huge, dark and hypnotically seductive.

I had managed to actually find a spot in their parking lot. So after a little coffee and chit-chat we set off to find her a place. 

I told her that the smartest thing she could do would be to find an apartment near a Metro stop. So we cruised the Orange Line for most of the afternoon. 

And she finally settled on a neat little place in West Falls.

When we finished the apartment shopping I took her back to her hotel in the Clarendon area. 

She seemed hesitant and moody as we drove back. So I asked her what the problem was. 

She said, "Now that you've done your duty will I see you again?" 

I said, "It is a real pleasure, not a duty. And we will see each other around campus a lot. My office is not far from yours in the same building." 

She said, "That's not what I meant. Will we see each other socially?" 

I said, "I have not had a date since my wife died. You were probably in high school then." 

She looked aghast and said with horror in her voice. "Your wife died? How did that happen?" 

I was trying to keep the pain out of my voice as I said, "She was hit by a drunk driver while jogging. We had only been married three years. 

"Her untimely death cut my heart out and stomped on it. I have not even looked at a woman since that day twenty-four years ago," 

Then I hesitated and tentatively added, "Until now."

She looked aghast and said, "What do you mean by that?"

Okay - I had totally screwed-the-pooch! I hastily walked THAT statement back before she thought that I was some kind of psycho stalker. 

I said, "What I mean is that I find you attractive. And for the first time in forever I have a desire to get to know a woman better. I don't know what it is about you, all of the common ground I suppose, but I want to explore our relationship further if you are willing."

She did that thing that only women do where they kind-of melt. She took my one hand in her two and said with sincerity, "I would like that very much."

Compound interest being what it is, the blood money from Kari's death had grown into a big bag of cash over the past 24 years. I would never spend the settlement. That was Kari's money. But the interest was a grey area and it was substantial. 

So I got myself something to sail. 

It was a pure survival mechanism. Being on the water was the only way I could wrestle with the crushing feelings of ennui and cosmic resentment that continually swept over me. 

I thought that Kari would approve. I had to survive to keep her memory alive. 

Janet and I still had a lot of talking to do before any decisions were reached. A day on the boat seemed like neutral way to kick that off. So I invited her to go sailing with me the following weekend. 

I had run into her several times during the succeeding week. She had been completely professional in her dealings with me. 

She was a smart girl. She had been around academia long enough to know that faculty types have the same approximate maturity level of junior-high-schoolers. 

Especially, when it comes to chit-chatting about matters of the heart. 

I was a senior guy and she was brand new and an assigned mentoree. We both could foresee all kinds of career ending gossip falling out of that situation. 

She was still making the arrangements to move into her apartment. So I picked her up at her place in Clarendon. She was dressed for the boat in a demure pair of white boat shorts, Topsiders and a dark blue polo shirt with a little alligator on it. 

This was the first time since the initial time at the pool that her body was truly discernable. It was spectacular. 

You don't compete at the collegiate level without having handsome muscular legs. But the round ass and lithe hips in those shorts were also a work of art. 

Given the challenge that the exceptional size of her boobs posed to casual attire. The Izod polo shirt was perhaps the classiest compromise possible.

She was wearing the shirt tails-out. So it kind of hung down off her front. Which left you with the impression that she was smuggling watermelons underneath. But at the same time she looked athletic and utterly asexual. Or at least as asexual as somebody built like her could look. 

I kept the boat at the James Creek Marina back behind Fort McNair. The 7 mile drive took the usual forty-five minutes in DC traffic. 

All the way to the marina we talked about her first week. She was amazingly insightful in her appraisals of her peers. And it was clear that she had a first-class mind, particularly in her ability to maneuver through the swamp of faculty politics.

We got to the boat and she just stood there gaping. 

I don't know what kind of vessel she THOUGHT I was talking about when I invited her out. But it was clear that she didn't expect what she was seeing. Maybe she thought I was talking about a Sunfish.

I had to admit that the C&C 40 is an impressive boat. It's a masthead sloop with the fifty foot mainmast anchored slightly forward of center. From where we were standing it seemed to go up to the sky. 

Compared to the true racing sloops, the boat itself is sturdy, almost a little tubby, Its broad beam makes it an excellent cruiser. 

Janet stepped on board still gazing around like she had never been on a boat before. She said, "Is this yours?" 

I said, "It's over thirty years old but she's still a very well-preserved old girl."

We stowed our gear and the groceries. Then I cast off and took us out into the Anacostia River and shortly thereafter into the Potomac. 

We were under motor at that point because there is just too much traffic on the river to reliably go under sail, at least until you get around Hallowing Point and into the wider part. 

She sat next to me glorying in the sun and the hustle and bustle. I pointed out the landmarks as we cruised by from Alexandria, to National Harbor, to Mt. Vernon. 

I wasn't going too far but I wanted to raise the sail to give her the experience. 

I set the autosailor when we got around the Point and told her to hold onto the halyard line while I took the cover off the mainsail. 

She was tugging on the halyard like she thought she had to raise the sail by hand. And she almost seemed strong enough to do that. 

I went back to stand behind her and reached around her to loop the line over the top slot in the winch and she leaned back into me. It was an exquisite sensation. One that I had not experienced in two decades. 

The power winch pulled the mainsail up the mast. She was clapping her hands with glee. 

Then as I was attaching the line to the cleat the wind shifted off the nose, the sail cracked and filled and we lay over on a beautiful port tack. 

I rushed back to take over the helm and told her to coil the line at the cleat. As she bent over to do that I could see the most perfect apple shaped ass ever fitted on a woman. 

She came rushing back to where I was sitting with her eyes positively glowing. 

She said, "That was the most exhilarating thing I have ever done." 

I said, "Yeah - sailing a big boat does that for you."

We cruised for a while, tacking back and forth, just to give her a sense of it. 

Once I was sure we were away from any ship traffic I let her handle the helm. I told her to just steer by feel, the ship, the wind and the helmsman are one and the same organism. She looked positively ecstatic.

I finally maneuvered us to where I wanted to anchor, which was Belmont Bay on the Virginia side. It is surrounded by Mason Neck State Park. 

Even though there is a marina on the southeast side and a bunch of yahoos in powerboats and jet skis, the bay is big enough that our anchorage on the far side was both private and also semi-secluded.

I dropped anchor fore and aft and she looked at me in anticipation. 

Why do women always do that? It was like she expected me to make a romantic move, which was a long way from happening. 

I felt closer to this woman than I had to any female in two decades. But Kari was the only person I had ever been intimate with. And that intimacy was still very precious to me.

I said, "Let's sit here and talk. I have told you about my life, or at least what there has been of it since my wife died. Tell me about yourself. Have you been married before?"

Her face darkened. She almost looked panicked. 

I said gently, "You don't have to tell me anything about yourself if you don't want to. I was just hoping to get to know you better. I'm interested. That's all."

She looked like there was a wrestling match going on inside her head. 

Finally she said, "I started developing very early and these were the result." She gestured disparagingly at her tits. 

She continued, "I was thrilled at first because every boy I knew wanted me, even the older ones. Then I figured out that was all that they EVER wanted. 

"None of them appreciated the fact that I was smarter than most people and also a better athlete. All they ever wanted was to get their hands on these." And this time she actually cupped them.

She added, "I managed to hold them ALL off until I was in my first year at Cal. 

"That's where I met Prince Charming. 

"James was everything I had ever wanted in a man, suave, good looking. He seemed to care about me. And he had literally inherited gold, silver and uranium mines from his dad. So he was also fabulously wealthy and powerful. I was only nineteen at the time. 

"He was eight years older than me. We met at a club in San Francisco and James thought I was his age because of the way I looked.

"We lived together throughout college and in my senior year he asked me to marry him. 

Getting married was something that all of the girls in my social set were doing and it just seemed like the right thing to do.

"I wish I had spent a little time thinking about that, rather than just jumping into things. But I was still only a girl and James was very convincing.

"The problem was that the minute we were married I became one of his possessions and he morphed into a psycho control freak. 

"He had done a good job of keeping that little obsession hidden from me during the courtship. But once we were married he started to lay down the law, sometimes in pretty physical terms.

"So I was literally the princess in the tower. 

"Living with him was my worst nightmare. He didn't want me doing anything but being at his beck and call. 

"My life was dictated to me. I was not allowed to have meaningful conversations with men. And God help me if I flirted or danced with one. 

"In fact he also got jealous of my women friends. So I had to jettison them too. 

"He had a lot of money and so I dedicated myself to spending it for him. It was my way of getting revenge for the way he treated me. 

"I bought everything a girl could imagine from expensive coteur to cars. 

"And the more I spent the deader inside I got . 

"He was willing to pay as long as I never expressed an opinion, or did anything that involved free-will. And he expected me to perform any sexual trick he could think of on demand. 

"The word "prostitute" comes to mind. 

"Sex was often disgusting and degrading. But I didn't have a choice. He totally owned me. It was a living hell. 

"I was allowed to continue swimming because it kept me in the shape required to boost his raging ego. But it was only in our pool in our place in the Santa Monica Mountains. 

"I couldn't divorced him. He had his hands around my throat, sometimes literally. 

"And his 'body guards' constantly kept an eye on me. I was essentially under house arrest for all seven years we were married. 

"Then - fortunately, or unfortunately as the case may be, he found a new bimbo. 

"She was as well-endowed as I am and only 20 years old. And apparently she even liked the kinky things that he inflicting on her.

"The problem was that we had an iron clad pre-nup. 

"Adultery was the main feature. So he made plans to trade in the old slut for a new one by setting me up. 

"One of the guys who was keeping an eye on me started helping me to get away for a few hours. 

"It was just walks on the beach and coffee at Bobby's. But it was freedom. 

"He seemed to be kind and sympathetic. I actually began to trust him. In fact I started to crush on him. 

"I know how naïve that sounds. But I had been sheltered my entire life. And I was afraid that my husband was going to kill me. It was the Stockholm syndrome. 

"One night my friend was the only guy watching me. He came into our home theater with drinks and some popcorn and offered to watch Steel Magnolias. 

"That alone should have told me it was a trap. No guy is capable of sitting through that movie, no matter how devoted. 




The Old Man and the Sea



"Well - it turns out that he didn't need to sit very long. 

"We were just in the beauty shop scene when my vision started getting very fuzzy. The next thing I knew it was morning and I was naked in my bed with my supposed friend lying next to me. 

I vaguely remembered a long erotic night featuring multiple screaming orgasms. It was rape pure and simple.

"But thanks to my jailor-lover I couldn't even go to the hospital to get a blood test. 

"Of course James had all of the video evidence he needed to break the pre-nup. 

"I left our house with the clothes on my back and a substantial lump sum settlement. It was enough to restart my life in Portland, which was where I eventually drifted. 

"I had a good degree so I got a job doing basic marketing work for a company in Gresham. But I was planning to never trust another male for the rest of my life. 

"I worked there for a year and tried to rebuild my wounded psyche and self-confidence. I didn't date or even look at men. They had been my problem in the first place. 

"I did form a couple of friendships with women though. One of them had just gotten out of the Army. She was stationed north of there at Joint Base Lewis-McChord doing intelligence work and after a year of talking to her about that field we both decided to get credentialed. 

"So Margot and I packed all of our things and drove 2,500 miles to Erie. 

"That started the best three years of my life. We roomed together in an old house downtown. I lived the life of a grad student and at age 33 I finally had some direction in life. 

"I even started dating again but it was totally different from my college mixer and club days. And all of the men I went out with were younger than me. I was never serious about any of them anyhow. Men had been the cause of my problems. 

"But Margot finally met a man who was perfect for her. He was a vet too and an honest hard working guy. She married him when we all graduated and we parted company. 

"I found my way down here and met you and that is the end of my story."

She sat back looking at me like I was going to take her home now that I knew all of her dark secrets. It was very endearing. 

I said, "So we have both been screwed over by life. I lost my wife for no good reason and you were totally used and betrayed by your former husband. I guess that makes us a perfect pair."

She got that look again. It was somewhere between melting and smoldering sexuality. I have never understood what goes on in the jungle of the female mind. 

She marched over to me, threw her arms around me and tilted her head back and looked up into my eyes. There was a lot of emotion playing behind hers. 

I was uncomfortably aware of the feeling of those big breasts moving around between us.

She said with a certain amount of irony in her voice, "From the minute we met I have had the sense that you are the first man I could ever even consider trusting. 

"Is that true, or am I mistaken?"

I said, "You can trust me to be your friend. You can trust me to be your advisor. You can probably never trust me to be your sexual partner because I have not had sex with a woman since my wife died. 

"In fact you are the first woman I have held in my arms in two decades."

She looked flabbergasted and said, "How is that possible? How could you do that?"

I said, "It's easy when you are broken. We're both broken. Maybe we can help each other put Humpty-Dumpty back together again."

_________________________________

Paradise Found

That was not the beginning of a wild sexual frenzy on the boat. But nonetheless, a few things DID happen that night.

I went down to the galley and fixed the stuff we had brought and we ate and talked for several hours sitting in the cockpit. 

We watched the wildlife, ducks, geese and the occasional heron. I drank a little of the wine and she drank a lot. 

I eventually got out one of the sleeping bags that I stowed in the sail locker and we lay on the foredeck watching the sunset and then just holding each other as we gazed up at the stars. 

She was snuggled next to me with those big tits resting on my chest and her head on my shoulder. Occasionally she would raise up and scrutinize me as we talked. 

One of those times I looked into her face and I saw the depth of emotion in her infinite dark eyes. Her lips were hovering close to mine. And what happened next was natural, even after two decades of having nobody. Her lips touched mine and we kissed.

She moaned loudly and opened her mouth. You forget a lot in 24 years. But my reaction was like riding that proverbial bike. I caught on quickly.

She grabbed me with all of her strength, threw her leg between mine and just plastered herself against me, hunching her mound on my leg as she did. 

After a couple of minutes I rolled her over on her back, still kissing her deeply and her legs shot wide open. Then she wrapped them around my butt with such considerable force that she literally pulled me closer to her. 

Her legs were so long it almost felt like she could wind them around me several times. 

Both of us were still fully clothed. But I think that it was a more passionate embrace than if we were actually doing the deed. She was making whimpering little effort noises as she thrashed underneath me. The power in that female body was indescribable.

I also noted with some satisfaction that no silicon was involved in the making of her huge tits. They were all Janet. 

Then she loudly gasped, "OH NO!!" And came like a freight train. 

Her heels were literally drumming on the deck as she worked her way through a monster orgasm. I held her as she bucked and writhed beneath me making a loud keening wail. 

The contractions passed and she was still. Then she looked up at me with wonder and said, "I don't know what just happened but I have never experienced anything like that in my life."

I had to admit that it was erotic in the extreme. And for the first time in forever Keri was not sitting in the front window of my mind. 

I just lay between Janet's widely spread legs panting. Feeling her hard stomach and those huge tits rising and falling with her exertions. 

I looked into that deep intelligent face and said, "Maybe we were meant to heal each other."

There was no subsequent night of endless passion on the boat. I still had a very substantial ghost to deal with. And Janet had her own set of demons. All of those things weighed against our falling instantly into bed, or even in love. 

But what we had done was broken the intimacy barrier. A woman's body was special to me for the first time in over two decades. 

I almost felt like Kari's spirit had graciously withdrawn from my consciousness so that I could be happy with another woman. 

And I think that Janet was actually surprised at how easily and comfortably she and I bonded into a couple.

We worked together as colleagues while we were on campus. But the evenings were different 

A dozen years earlier I had bought a condo in Georgetown. I had gotten it after I was promoted to Full Professor. It was a lot bigger and nicer than her place. And so Janet eventually started living there. 

The period of transition between dating and permanent residency was touching. And it illustrated how deeply wounded she was. 

In my case I had been on my own for so long that I had to re-learn how to live with somebody again. 

In hers it convincing herself that I was not her husband.

She was like a feral animal. Most of the time we were at ease and loving with each other. But the smallest difficulty would send her skittering back to her apartment. 

Nevertheless, we eventually settled-in with each other. That is the only way I can explain it. It was simply a matter of getting completely comfortable with a stranger. 

We lived the minutia of life and our union built out of humble day-to-day things. I saw her in every possible situation, from morning hair to dressed-up to kill. We shared breakfast newspapers and TV nights. We went everywhere and did everything as a couple. 

And inevitably the daily hum-drum made us closer until we finally came together as lovers. 

It wasn't instant passion, like it was with Kari. It took a period of several months for us to take the final steps to cement the union. 

It all began with her sleeping over. That made perfect sense. We were completely confident in each other's motives at that point. And so her sleeping with me was not a stretch. 

But actually fucking was a bridge too far for either of us to contemplate. We liked each other so much that neither of us wanted to cross that irrevocable line between friendship and whatever problems sexual intimacy would represent. 

I was still not ready to put Kari behind me. Even though my wife had been in her grave for twenty-five years. 

Janet acted like a rape victim, which she probably was. At any rate she had clearly been traumatized by the manner that her husband had used her body. 

She would sleep with me in a pair of panties and a long California football jersey, with those monsters unrestrained underneath. We often awoke entwined with each other. 

Frankly the thought crossed my mind. You would have to be a Rapa-Nui statue NOT to get hard waking up with one of her muscular legs lying across yours and a huge liquid breast mashed against your chest. 

But I never acted on it because I still thought of Kari as my wife. I would recall a similar situation 25 years earlier and everything down there went soft. 

And Janet was clearly having the same ambivalences. It was like the second we became intimate she knew that I would morph into the monster her husband had become.

That problem was solved because liquor is quicker. 

One night we were uptown on M street. And we had both had a lot to drink. So we came rollicking back to the condo, which was off the C&O towpath. 

I normally sleep in a t-shirt and boxers but the room was a little wobbly. So I just stripped off all of my clothes and scooted under the covers.

Janet was watching me. And so she did the same thing, giggling all the way. It was like copycat was funny. 

I had seen her naked before. But it was the way a lot of married couples do as part of daily routine. I had never really looked at her because I knew where THAT would lead and I was not ready to go there yet. 

But in the condition I was in it was inevitable that I would take the time to appraise her body. And I was drunk enough not to care what that meant. 

She was incredible. Swimmers tend to be slim like me. Janet was power, not aerodynamics. She was totally round, with wide shoulders and a tiny waist that flared out into the muscular hips and legs of a world-class athlete. 

I knew she was strong. We had enough of our heated, not-quite-going-all-the-way sessions to leave that imprinted in my mind. In fact she had nearly cracked some of my ribs during her frequent orgasms. 

But really looking at her nude body now, all I could think about was fucking her. She climbed into bed next to me still giggling. 

I propped myself up on one elbow and looked into her eyes. She looked back at me. She was utterly in heat. 

I mashed my mouth on hers and she opened to me like a flower. I put one hand on her massive left tit and she gasped, then began to moan as I manipulated her nipple. 

She has nipples like gum-drops, very pronounced and hard and as I began to suck on the one in front of me she had her first orgasm. It was just a lot of heavy breathing and a sigh with a little "eeeee" on the end. But I could tell that this woman was hot-hot-hot. 

I moved the same hand down her rock hard stomach to her shaven and sopping wet pussy. It was a place that I had never entered before. The minute I stuck one finger into her she gave a loud shout and her hips began a rapid-fire bucking. 

It was uncanny. They were almost a blur of activity. 

Then I looked into her eyes. She was willing me to put it in her. So I rolled over on top of her. 

She shot her legs wide as she always did and then slammed her heels back against my butt with a strength that drove me to the hilt inside her. 

She let out the loudest, most satisfied groan and started muttering, "So long! So long!" 

I was pretty sure that she was talking about the duration of time between when she last had sex. Not making a commentary about my physical attributes. 

Then the age old rocking motion began. She gasped and threw her legs straight up in the air. I put my arms behind the back of them to hold her in that position and just pounded her. 

We are both much stronger than the average person. So the hammering that I was giving her and the thorough fucking that she was absorbing from me must have looked like Tarzan and Jane mating. 

Only with a tad bit more animal enthusiasm.

Janet claimed that she had not had sex except one time in her 2nd year in graduate school. That was three years ago. And it would be hard to believe that she had much fun with her husband. Since his idea of great sex featured a lot of pain and humiliation for her. 

Of course we had elected three two-term Presidents since I had been inside a woman. 

It was obvious that Janet had learned a lot from her ex-husband. And she was very aggressive. She draped her legs over my shoulders and grabbed my forearms in a death grip that was aimed at pulling herself into an almost perfect bow. 

She was obviously trying to get me as deep inside her as she could. 

Her mouth was making the widest "O" possible and her eyes were unfocused. Then they rolled up in her head and she shouted and came again. 

There was considerably more thrashing this time. 

At that point, she reversed herself on the bed and put herself in a scissors position, one leg between mine and the other straight up in the air. That got me even further in her. It was so far I could feel the head of my cock invade her cervical opening.  

That sensation set off a monumental shriek, which was followed by more desperate high frequency bucking. And then she began to vibrate as every muscle in her body tensed. She yelled, "OH MY GOD YESSSSS!! CUMMING, CUMMING!!" 

And she went off on a frenzy of writhing. Since I was essentially lying to one side of her I could observe every aspect of that amazing event. 

Her mouth was twisted into a rictus of pure sensation. Her stomach was rippling like the ocean. And those huge tits were quivering like two Blanc-Manges in an earthquake. 

It took several seconds for the thrashing to die down. Then without missing a beat she reversed out of that position and into a hands-and-knees doggy-style. 

The sight of those broad fertile hips, attached to that tiny waist and those huge, round, magnificent buns almost made me drool on her dimpled ass. 

As I slid into her she let out a long low moan. It was from the bottom of her soul. That was followed by a lurid groan and she shoved herself violently backward. 

I started to enter her cervix again. She seemed to like it as deep as possible. 

I beat as hard as I could on that strapping ass. It rippled every time I made contact. Her knees were splayed wide. She was making loud grunts and animal growls of effort and shoving herself backward every time I hit bottom in her. 

Our mutual sweat and the smell was viscerally erotic. 

She had been whipping her hair back and forth as she shook her head from side-to-side. It kind-of resembled a dog shaking after it gets wet. That couldn't go on very long without something cataclysmic happening. 

What occurred would have made Vesuvius's eruption seem like a sunny day in Campania. I could sense the orgasm gaining momentum from somewhere around the North Pole. It felt like I was swelling up like a balloon and her insides were fizzing like a shaken up bottle of soda pop. 

Suddenly she gasped and threw her head backward. She bent her long beautiful back into such a deep arch I was afraid that she would hurt herself. 

That led to a very low pitched animal shriek. Then she threw herself face first on the bed, ass still elevated to get the maximum penetration. 

She held herself, arms over her head fingers frantically scrabbling at the covers. Her back was bowed, and her ass was straight up in the air. Her shoulders started to shake violently while her buns were frantically clenching independent of each other. 

She was totally silent but it was evident that the muscles in that powerful body were gritted. 

It was like every part of her was locked in the grip of an utterly unearthly orgasm. She was actually slobbering as it happened. Her insides went wild, clenching and spasming around me. And of course that pushed me over the edge. 

I held onto those wide muscular hips while my reproductive system temporarily underwent the China syndrome. It was like two decades of life-force were draining out of me. 

She collapsed as we came together and I fell on top of her. We she lay there, with me feeling the rapid heaving of her sweat soaked back. 

She is bigger than average for a woman but I was still probably 70 pounds heavier than she was and I was afraid I might smother her. So I threw myself sideways making an audible sucking sound as I withdrew. She moaned longingly in complaint. 

We had been lying there for several minutes saying nothing when she spoke in a timorous voice. 

She said, "Are you going to change now?" 

Son-of a bitch, I knew it!! 

I said with conviction, "Yes I am my dear." I heard a gasp of anguish

I said, "I am going to change into the most loving, considerate, and dedicated husband you ever had." 

There was a long pause as she took in that new information. Then she screamed with absolute delight, "HUSBAND???!! Does that mean you want to marry me???" 

I had been thinking about it for some time. This had supplied the missing piece.

I said, "As soon as possible my love. I am willing to put a ring on it to make sure that everybody understands that you are mine."

She threw herself on top of me weeping. She said, "Oh God, I have never wanted anything more in my life."

_______________________________

Original Sin

And so we were married. It was a surprise to all of our colleagues. Since we had been conducting our relationship under the radar. 

But they could see how much we loved each other and a few of them seemed sort-of happy for us. The rest didn't care. 

What can I say? Academics are slightly more self-absorbed than cats. 

We settled into the routine of faculty life. We taught our classes. Did our research and wrote. 

When we weren't doing that we enjoyed each other's company. Extended bouts of fucking often ensued from there.

A dozen years passed in a blur of joy, quietude and love. I was still able to answer the bell as I turned the corner on my sixty second year. And Janet was as beautiful and sensual in her forty-seventh year as she had been at thirty-five. 

She still swam as often as she could. And that lovely face and incredible body hadn't changed one iota. But the inner woman had expanded to fill out all of the corners of her potential. 

Part of the problem with marrying somebody who is much younger than you are is that they are always in a different room in their life. 

There was never any conflict about our personal goals. And we fit together beautifully. But Janet was not the same woman I had married twelve years earlier. And I was definitely NOT the man that I had been back then.

Her intelligence and strength of character put her in leadership situations in both academia and also in policy circles. 

Whereas I had reached the point in my career where I was beginning the summing-up process. 

I wasn't ready to head for the pasture yet. But you build up a lot of capital over your lifetime. And eventually you want to start sorting through it. Just to put things into perspective. 




The Old Man and the Sea



So while Janet continued to expand her empire I was happy to sit-back and decide which of the stuffed moose heads and other items of junk in the attic of my mind were worth saving. 

I was an elder-statesman by then. So I still had a lot of speaking engagements and requests for articles. But I was summarizing and recapping, not exploring new territory. 

I was happy with my situation. Your immortality is in your words, not your deeds. And I wanted to lay down a legacy of ideas that people would read and wonder about long after I had departed this earth. 

The fact of human impermanence was imprinted on my psych very early thanks to Kari,

I was pretty sure that Janet's career was her priority. But she was always very loving and deeply respectful to me in our married life. And the sex was still exceptional. 

I could still remember the energetic cut-and-thrust of my middle forties, when the thrill of new worlds to conquer hung in the air. And an important aspect of being married is helping your partner be happy.

In that respect I think that I had come to represent Janet's safe-harbor. Our marriage gave her a protected space that she could retreat into and recharge. It was comforting for her and secure. 

But Janet was clearly happiest when she was conquering new worlds. The problem with empire building is that it makes you look outward not inward. And you can lose track of the things that are important in life. 

Getting your priorities confused will color your actions. I never doubted that our marriage wasn't important for Janet. But people can get delusions of grandeur when they are on a long winning streak. 

And Janet simply lost track of her own mortality. 

She came to think that she was invincible.

Believe it or not the first clue of trouble in paradise was provided by one of the students. 

Students will do anything to establish a personal link with you. It isn't that they are trying to get you to like them. It is just that they think that they will get a break if you know who they are.

Richard Bowen was a nerd's-nerd and I already knew him. But he was also a world-class suck-up. So there was never a part of my life that he wasn't trying to connect with. 

He worked part time as a busboy at 1789, which is a fancy restaurant tucked up next to the Georgetown campus. 

One day he was sitting around my lab more-or-less interrupting what I was doing.

He said, strictly in order to make conversation, "I saw Professor Jones last night."

I said, "That's nice."

He added, "She was having dinner with Professor Willis."

He had gotten my attention, but I didn't react. Janet was supposed to be in Baltimore for a session on counter-terrorism. She got in so late that I was already asleep.

I said, "Are you sure it was her?"

He said, "Oh yeah, I'd recognize Professor Jones anywhere. She is so beautiful and she had everybody's attention in the dress she was wearing."

By that I assumed that the little weasel was referring to Janet's obvious assets in something low-cut.

It puzzled me. She had gone off to class mid-afternoon in her typical preppy attire. She had not told me anything about deviating from her original plan, which was to sit in on a seminar at Hopkins. And why would she change into a slinky dinner dress. More important WHERE would she do that?

Also, the man she was allegedly out with was a junior guy who we had hired at the beginning of the prior school year. 

Norbert Willis was a forty-something expert in geospatial-intelligence, fresh out of Duke and the local campus phallic symbol. He was perhaps 6 years younger than Janet.

His classes were packed, less because of the knowledge he was imparting and more because of the way he was imparting it. 

He was very good looking in an affable, east-coast, prep-school, sixth form, boyishly angelic, choir boy kind of way. 

He clearly came from money. Not many freshly minted Assistant Professors have a place out on the Palisades and drive a SLK Mercedes. And he definitely had an eye for the ladies. 

As the senior guy in the Department I had to give him the obligatory sexual harassment lecture, after one of the female students complained. 

And he was definitely treating me like his dad during the talk, which I was old enough to be. 

Everybody knew that he was a pedigreed cock-hound. And I might be 60 years old but my brain had not totally calcified. Janet stood out among every other female on that campus in both the beauty and sexuality department. 

So I assumed that he had spent a lot of his spare time barking up her tree. 

Normally I would have blown off Bowen's little tidbit since it made no sense whatsoever. 

But, if what he said WAS true then it was something I needed to look into. Since Janet had obviously not bothered to tell me about her change in plans. And we did not have that kind of relationship. 

She was sitting at our kitchen table grading student papers when I got home. She was wearing a big baggy Georgetown sweatshirt and yoga pants and her auburn hair was pinned up into a rough bun. 

She was chewing on the eraser of a pencil, something she did when she was concentrating. It was altogether an endearing look. 

There might be a good explanation for why she was not where she had led me to believe she was. So I wanted to give her the consideration of not charging in and yelling, "What the fuck Janet!!??" 

Nonetheless, I WAS going to get the story.

She turned her mouth up for the usual tongue-heavy greeting. I got a cup of rose-hip tea and sat down opposite her. When we do that we always banter back and forth. It is a pleasant way to reconnect after a long day in the salt-mines of academia.

She was sitting across from me, no makeup or any other of the tricks that women use to seem more attractive. And she was still a stunningly beautiful woman.

Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound!!

I said as lightheartedly as I could, "So how was the seminar in Baltimore? I can't think of anything I would rather NOT do than drive all of the way up there in order to listen to somebody wax-on about tradecraft."

She looked up and with nothing but eagerness and honesty in her face she said, "Oh it was very interesting. I even stayed after to talk to Dr. Ostrovski. It's a long drive back from Baltimore. It was 2 AM when I got in. You were sawing logs."

Okay - there it was. Either she had just looked me in the eye and lied to me. Or Bowen was having delusions. 

I didn't react. 

Frankly, my first thought was not "infidelity." It was more along the lines of puzzlement. Our relationship had never been anything but honest and forthright and there was probably a logical explanation. 

Janet had never given me the slightest inkling that she was unsatisfied with your lives together. But why would she lie about something as innocuous as having dinner with a colleague, even a well-known horny one?

I am not the sort of person who sneaks around spying on their spouse. I had a range of electronic options given what I do for living. But it is the ultimate in disrespect to bug our wife. So if there was a problem I wanted to know about it. 

I just looked at her and said as casually as I could, "Do you remember Richard Bowen? You might recall me mentioning him? He's the one who is the brown-nosing pain in the ass in my pen-testing class."

She laughed and said, "Of course I remember him. You complain about him every other day."

I continued with, "He said he saw you last night all dolled up at 1789. He's a busboy there."

Her face didn't change in the slightest as she laughed merrily again and said, "He must have been mistaken. I grabbed a bite before the lecture at Sterling's. They have great crab. We ought to eat there some day."

Okay, Bowen was brown nosing again. It was typical of his behavior to make something up just to try to be one of my cronies. Or maybe Bowen just had the day wrong.

But I also knew that Janet had a very strong and agile mind. Even blindsided she could talk her way out of things. 

A couple of months went by. Our relationship was as outstanding as ever. We talked and laughed and made spontaneous love. 

Then I ran into the Hamster in the hall. We did the usual polite colleague-to-colleague thing, which you have to do when you can't avoid somebody. 

He asked me if I was going to the IACA Conference. It was in Chicago that year. I told him that Janet was going but that I had way too much to do here. I was on deadline for a chapter I was writing for an anthology on cybercrime profiling.

He looked pleased. Dean's always like to hear about faculty publication. It reflects well on their leadership. 

He said, "In that case Janet and Norb will do a good job of representing us."

If it hadn't been for Bowen that little tidbit would have flown right past me. I was suddenly very interested in their travel arrangements. 

I nodded and said conversationally, "Are they the only two going?" 

He said, "They were the only ones to apply for travel funds. There might be somebody else going on their own dime but I doubt it."

I said something humorous about academics and prostitution and walked off down the hall thinking, "Why didn't she tell me about that?"

While were having dinner at Filomena's that night I asked her about her trip. 

She looked up and her dark eyes were luminous in the candle-light. She was gorgeous. She said, "I got a request to Chair a session. Dave Whipple had to drop out so I told him I would cover." 

I said, "Who else is going?"

She said, "Nobody from here." That was said matter-of-fact without a moment's hesitation and without any apparent emotion. It was a simple statement.

That was another lie. Unless she didn't know that Willis was going. That is not an odd situation. Since faulty types are rarely in the same place at the same time. Maybe she really didn't know.

But it was enough of an anomaly that I decided to take action. 

I am maybe too straightforward in the way I live my life. But my only response to things that I don't understand is to confront them and find out. This was a situation that needed to be resolved, not left to fester.

I said, "Professor Willis is going too. Did you know that?"

She hesitated for one killer second and said, "No, I didn't know that. Perhaps we can get together when we are there. Do you know whether he is staying at the conference hotel?"

Okay, she was doing an excellent job of lying. 

I said, "I think you DID know that and it makes me wonder what else you haven't told me. 

"I hope there is nothing going on between you two. You are a beautiful woman and I don't blame men for pursuing you. 

"I know that Willis is the current campus rock-star. But he is also a well-known harasser of coeds and an AKC pedigreed cockhound. 

"One of these days he is going to get caught by somebody who gives a shit. And that will be it for his career.

"So I hope and expect that you will respect our marriage and keep things professional when you two are together."

She looked almost hurt, or was it wary? Perhaps she was reacting to my comment about the coeds.

She said, "You are the man I love. All I ever want to be is married to you. Norbert is nothing compared to you. And we mean way too much to each other for me to risk anything with him. 

"I truly didn't know he was going to be there until you told me." 

That sounded convincing. 

Maybe I had answered my own question. Perhaps she didn't want me to know that she would be in Chicago with the guy because I knew about his reputation. And she didn't want to deal with the complication of me drawing the wrong conclusion. 

After all, a lot of men and women attend conferences. And there would have been no worries if she had been there with any other man, the Hamster for instance.

Of course, that little incident a month earlier was hovering in the background. And there was enough reasonable doubt associated with the entire sequence of events that I wanted to confirm once and for all that there was no problem.

So I did something sneaky myself. 

I could see that there was no way I was going to get irrefutable truth out of Janet short of waterboarding her. So I decided to investigate directly. 

And HUMINT is always the best way to go when you want to get a reliable sit-rep. 

So I booked a first class ticket from DCA to ORD. I planned to get to the hotel before Janet arrived and find out who she arrived with. 

I would be back in DC that night and she would never know I was there. 

I left the condo at sunrise on the day of the conference. I told her that I had to go in for a very early meeting at the NCTC. 

The flight from DC to Chicago is a little over an hour and a half. I was on the first plane out. So I was at the Thompson on Chicago's Gold Coast in time to indulge myself in an excellent breakfast at Nico Osteria. 

Then I got myself comfortably situated in a nice wing chair in the lobby. I could surreptitiously observe the check-in desk from there.

I had timed my arrival based on Janet's travel plans. I hoped that I had cut it so that I wouldn't have to wait too long. 

An hour later I was reading the sports page of the Sun-Times when she wheeled her roller bag up to the desk. 

She was a study in strong energetic woman. Tall and beautiful, with that marvelous body, looking nowhere near her actual age. The sex appeal just dripped off her. 

I had positioned myself so that she couldn't see me as she finished checking in. 

She turned toward the elevators with happy anticipation. She was joined there by a handsome early forties guy. He was also pulling a bag. 

Side-by side they wrestled their bags gleefully into the elevators. And as the doors closed I saw her just step into him for a kiss.

I put the paper down and walked determinedly over to the check-in desk. 

I could have simply demanded that they give me a key. Since the credit card would be in my name. But I knew that the hotel would give me grief if I did. No hotel wants a confrontation. 

So instead I walked up looking harried and said, "Did my wife check in yet? God!! I couldn't find any place to park around here!!" 

The desk clerk looked unconvinced and asked for my ID which I gladly supplied. He clicked around on his terminal and saw that Janet had indeed checked in and that the card I had given him was the one she used. That seemed to satisfy him. 

He turned on the fake sincerity as he burned me a keycard and said, "Have a wonderful stay."

I was pretty sure that it would actually be a short and memorably unpleasant stay.

I went up to the third floor and walked down the hall to room 317. They had preceded me on the elevator by only fifteen minutes. 

I was planning to confront them straightaway. So no listening at the door or anything weasely like that. 

Before I crossed my personal Rubicon, I said a little prayer that it wouldn't be what it seemed. There would be a logical explanation. 

I inserted my card. The light blinked green and I quietly opened the door. I didn't have to be clandestine.

I found it hard to believe that they would have had enough time to get themselves in flagrante. 

But one should never underestimate the power of love, or perhaps the correct term is "lust". 

She was lying on the bed, head thrown back, one forearm over her eyes, and naked legs spread wide. 

Everything she had been wearing was strung between the door and the bed like a trail of bread crumbs. It was as if her clothes had fallen off her as she walked.

He was lying with his lower half naked but his shirt and tie on. 

It seemed rather ungentlemanly to NOT undress fully before eating the lady. But maybe they were in a big hurry.

He was nestled between her outwardly bent legs lapping with the same intense effort that my old dog uses when he drinks out of the toilet. 

She was moaning and muttering in a rapt guttural voice that sounded like she needed to be exorcised, "Ahhhh Yes, that's it baby!! You make me so crazy!!"

Then she went off on a loud series of bucking, thrashing orgasms, mauling her own pendulous tits as she came. 

I had been standing there with my phone filming the last 30 seconds of that exhibition. 

There was no need to be covert. Shithead was focusing on his meal. And she was so far out of it that I could have been using one of those old fashioned Hollywood cameras with a crank. 

Janet would have never noticed.

Then, without missing a beat she dragged him up her body and inserted him into her hungry hole. 

The smell of sex was getting pervasive as she shot her legs wide and he began to push himself up in her to the hilt. 

She let out a loud groan of satisfaction and said with passion in her voice, "God I love your cock!! You fill me up so much!!" 

That was when I started a slow clap. 

It took a couple of seconds for that to register. Then they both startled and looked in my direction. 

I said as ironically as I could, "Bravo!! What a scintillating performance!!" 

That set off a frenzy of activity. Willis pulled out of her like her pussy was on fire. Then in a frantic effort to get to his pants he fell backward off the bed. 

He scrambled on his hands and knees over toward where his pants were. Only to find me standing on them. 

I was looking down at him from almost six feet over his head. He seemed justifiably frightened as he said in a humbly pleading voice, "Please?" 

He was still sporting a monster hard-on. Which made his situation even more humiliating.

I laughed and stepped off of his pants. He snatched them, jumped up and disappeared out of the room frantically hopping into them as he went. It was true slapstick.

I turned quizzically to Janet. She was clutching the sheet to her breasts. She looked distraught, but she wasn't crying. 

She is an intellectually strong and very willful woman. She knew what she had done and she knew that there was probably no walking back. 

But her pride wouldn't let her snivel. She was going to face me without hysterics and try to salvage the situation. 

Kudos for her!!

She said with self-hatred in every facet of her voice, "I suppose there is no way you can forgive me for this? I would spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you if you did."

I was angry beyond belief. But this was a heavyweight match. The first one who broke down wouldn't be able to look at themselves in the mirror after this. 

I said with total conviction in my voice, "Not a chance!! The only discussion left is how we are going to end this. I don't even care why you did it."

She was starting to sniffle, as cracks began to appear in her façade. 

She said, "You know that I love you with all my heart. This was just a momentary dalliance, a little illicit excitement. 

"It was insignificant compared to our love for each other and it wouldn't have gone on for very long. He pursued me ceaselessly and he is so young and charming. I never thought you would find out."

That was the usual cheaters crock of shit.

I said with profound sadness and regret, "But I did find out my dear and there is no forgetting what I saw, or forgiving it - not now - not ever. 

"I even understand that it was hubris that made you do it. You over-reached plain and simple. You thought that you were too smart to EVER get caught. 

"But there is far too much unpredictability in the cheating equation. You can't control everything. Eventually the evidence adds up. And so here we are."

It was really very understandable. She had spent her first marriage pushing every sexual boundary imaginable. And the sex itself was probably extremely stimulating even if it was debauched. The whole thing was just so tantalizingly naughty. 

Consequently, whatever the first step was I am sure that their affair was fueled by its forbidden nature. In fact her self-loathing was probably part of the overall turn-on. 




The Old Man and the Sea



I was also sure that her unhappiness with what she was doing would have quickly brought her back to me. And there was good reason to assume that she would never do it again. 

But she had forced me to face the fact that I had never really loved her, or at least not like I did Kari. There was no devastating sense of outrage and profound despair over her loss - no extreme hatred of her or her paramour - no regret at what I had discovered - just melancholy.

I said with despondency in my voice, "I am going home now. And I am going to ask you to move out as soon as you get back. You recall that the condo is solely in my name, right? 

"I am certain your fuck-buddy would be more than happy to take you in. What you were doing looked pretty hot. I'm sure he will want a lot more of that. 

"Just tell me when you need to get your stuff and I will help you pack."

At that, she started to wail. She kept repeating, "I love you Danny. I didn't mean for this to happen. Please-please-please can't we work something out? Don't throw away twelve wonderful years. I'll do anything!!" 

Then she broke down into soul wrench sobs.

I said with the weight of the world in my voice, "YOU threw it away not me. I wasn't the one who opened her legs to that horny piece of shit. Frankly, I don't love you enough to forgive you for THAT betrayal!!"

She said with spite and bitterness, "You'd forgive HER. I know you would. I could never compete with her, EVER!! THAT was why I did it!!" 

I understood what she was saying. And she was absolutely right. 

I said gently and with sadness, "I know."

Then I turned and walked out, closing the door on the penultimate room of my life. 

_____________________________________

After the Fall

I hired a lawyer to untangle the mess. Most of what we had in asset form was brought into the marriage. So sorting out our worldly goods was a relatively quick and straightforward process. 

Janet tried every trick of persuasion in an attempt to get me to take her back. But in the end she showed me how smart she was. She accepted that she had crossed the line that no woman ever returns from and signed the papers. 

In many respects I was punishing myself more than I was her. Nobody wants to die alone and that was what I was sentencing myself to. I was not going to find another woman. 

Whereas Janet married Shithead almost as soon as the divorce was final. 

I got a dog instead. As far as I was concerned I was getting the more loving and faithful of the two creatures. 

I had a conversation with the Dean the day after I got back. 

The pictures on my phone led to Shithead's immediate termination. It was easy to invoke the faculty morals clause with him because he was not tenured. 

Janet was tenured. So nothing happened to her. At least immediately. But the promotion to Full Professor would never happen in her lifetime now. 

Overnight, Janet went from being a rising superstar, to a pariah. It crushed her. 

I felt bad about that. It meant that her career would end in ignominy. But there was no way I could torch Dr. Norbert Willis without burning my ex-wife. 

I ran into her several times. It couldn't be avoided. We worked in the same place. 

She always gave me the saddest look. It was a potent cocktail of regret and yearning mixed with shame. 

I didn't want her to suffer but I had no answers. She'd created the problem. 

Willis was totally ruined in academe. No place will hire a faculty member with a morals dismissal on their record. 

He had a lot of money, all of it inherited. Janet had no place to go so she moved in with him. I saw them around Georgetown from time-to-time. 

Neither party looked like they wanted to be with the other. But circumstances being what they were they were stuck now. 

I hear from the faculty grapevine that he still fucks around a lot. 

It might be karma but it actually hurt me to know that Janet had to put up with that. I still loved her in my own way.

I taught for another three years and retired at sixty six. I had a good pension and with Kari's money I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted with the rest of my life. 

I bought a small RV and Buster and I traveled around for three years, visiting every place I'd ever wanted to see in the U.S. and Canada. 

But I was getting sick of cold weather and I didn't want to spend the remainder of my life on the road. 

Accordingly, Buster and I sailed the boat down to Key West. I was planning to hole up there for the duration. 

I expected that to be another decade or so, since I was still a healthy and hearty seventy-one. Which brings me back to the present day. 

Present Day: 1500 Hrs. on a Monday Afternoon

It was a bright blue-sky day in Key West. I had been on the island for the past three years and it fit my lifestyle. 

All I ever wanted was the feeling of peace and contentment that I had in those years with Kari. 

I remembered those times like they were yesterday. Even if it had been a half century ago. 

The easy-going life of a boat bum was as close as I could get to earthly paradise without her. 

It was a little disturbing to realize that I was only thinking about Kari, not my former wife. 

Janet was correct. I had never loved anybody but Kari. And I had probably done Janet a huge disservice by marrying her in the first place. 

But you do stupid things when you lose track of life's ultimate goals. 

I knew what I wanted now. So all I did was sit in the sun with my faithful old friend and wait. 

I was also back to talking to her, which probably explained why all of the tourists gave me a wide berth. 

Nevertheless, as I moved into my seventies Kari was more and more on my mind. 

I was relaxing with a cheap scotch and rocks at Captain Tony's. That was Hemingway's REAL drink, not the daiquiris that they sell to the tourists. 

I was enjoying the view of the weather outside in the street. There had been weather problems elsewhere in the Caribbean. But it had been a particularly tranquil summer in the Keys. 

The sun was tropical hot but if you know how to manage it you get to enjoy the lushness of your surroundings. 

And if you are at the daily sunset celebration in Mallory Square you understand the sheer enjoyment that the citizens of the Conch Republic get from their beautiful island.

The verdant greenery and the ocean are soothing to the eye. And if you are in the shade with a cool drink it is like you don't have a care in the world. It was one of the few times since the divorce that I felt content.

Unfortunately, that situation was about to change... drastically! 

At that exact moment, a huge tropical depression swept down off the Sahara. 

In the global mixing bowl of the earth's weather these disturbances almost always presaged serious Atlantic storms. 

This front featured the lowest barometric readings that the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration meteorologists had ever observed on the GOES system. 

The front moved past Dakar and made its way out into the South Atlantic sucking up enormous amounts of heat and moisture as it headed for the Cape Verde Islands. 

By the time it had passed over Santiago at 2015 local time, it had already escalated into a major Atlantic storm. 

The Cape Verde Islanders had their capitol of Praia buttoned up tight. During that part of the season they lived with those kind of storms. But even they were amazed by the force and power of the wind. 

By 2300 the National Hurricane Center issued its first tropical storm warning. Then, around 0330, the storm got a name, "Susie". The fact that NOAA had almost run through the alphabet showed what kind of year it had been for Atlantic hurricanes. 

As they attempted to get a fix on the storm's track the scientists at NOAA were also seeing a rare drop in the westerly steering winds that normally guided storms of this type toward Mexico. 

Without those winds, the tendency of cyclonic storms to drift toward the earth's Poles was accelerating the track northward. 

The initial GOES data indicated that the target might be anywhere from Cuba to North Carolina. 

The weather had been exceptionally warm that year. So as Susie churned her way across that Atlantic it was going up the scale toward force 2. 

Finally, around 05:30 one of NOAAs hurricane hunting P3 Orion's got a definite fix on the storm and its track. 

The news was not good. Susie was now a force 4 killer and it was aimed due west. 

Even worse, as most hurricanes approach land they tend to recurve back into the ocean. Susie, on the other hand, was on a dead straight course toward the Windwards Cuba and the Florida Keys. 

The last time a force four hurricane scored a direct hit on the Keys was in 1935 and it killed over 400 people.

Present Day: 1300 Hours on a Tuesday Afternoon

The NOAA C-130 had plowed its way through the leading edge of the hurricane and was in the eye itself. 

It was a beautiful day in the eye, completely surrounded by the hurricane wall. The pilot always thought that that was one of the oddest phenomena of a cyclonic storm. 

The four Allison T56A 15 turboprops had practically come off the wing getting them there and the pilot was in no mood for the return trip. But he had found out what he needed to know. 

Susie was indeed force 4. And she was pissed.

As she began to push up against the Windward Islands and the southeast cast of Cuba Susie finally began to recurve north. It was now packing 115 mile an hour winds, which downgraded it to a Category 3 on the Simpson scale. 

But that still meant that the anything in its path would experience a storm surge of 25 feet. The highest point in Key West is 18 feet above sea level. So a lot of that place was going to be under water soon. 

And the storm itself was now moving much faster than predicted. 

Present Day: 1730 Hours on a Tuesday Evening

I couldn't sit in harbor in Key West. Not if I wanted to keep the boat. The only option was to get out to sea and outrun the thing, or try to ride out the storm surge in the open ocean as far north of there as I could get. 

The worst effects were still predicted to be a day away. The closest and by far the most logical safe harbor was Marco Island. 

That was about 90 nautical miles north on the rhumb line. Which was a nine to ten hour voyage on the engine. 

Given the time I had available I was certain that the run up to Marco would get me into a protected harbor in plenty of time. 

The eye of the hurricane was predicted to track closer to Cuba anyhow, so I knew that would give me some leeway. 

I didn't want to lose my boat. Its tanks were full of diesel fuel. And Marco was the obvious choice. So I immediately cast off and set a course East of North on a bearing of 020 across the open ocean, direct for safety. 

The rest of daylight hours were spent battening down the boat. I got all of the lockers and hatches secured, and made sure that everything that moved belowdecks was tied down. 

The sky was an odd blue white with apple greenish overtones and high altitude wispy clouds. The ocean was nearly flat. It was the calm before the storm. 

The Volvo diesel on my C&C is a very powerful and we were making closer to 10 knots on a glassy sea. That meant that with luck we would be pulling into Marco well before sunrise. 

There have been far too many times in my life that I have looked back at thoughts like that with grim irony. This was one of them.

Present Day: 0230 Hours on a Wednesday Morning

We had motored to a point about 30 nautical miles south and west of Marco when the wind picked up out of the northeast at about 40 knots. 

We had been averaging 9 knots up to that point but there was no way I could make progress against the huge waves that the increasing wind was whipping up. 

So in order to keep headway I had to fall off the rhumb line and run closer to zero-four-five. 

To the best of my reckoning I was headed for the area south of Cape Romano. I could probably lay up in the Dismal Islands off shore of Lake Okeechobee if things got worse. 

I knew that I had outrun some of the hurricane's force but not enough of it. The waves were still killers. 

The sun had set four and a half hours earlier and the waves were in the range of 10-12 feet breaking over the port bow. I told Buster that I wanted him in the cabin. 

He told ME in his most eloquent dog fashion where I could stuff my good intentions. So I put a life jacket on my brave, but stubborn old buddy and we set forth to battle the storm together. 

At that point I battened the cabin shut, effectively making the boat water proof no matter what hit it. 

The boat was doing the roller coaster thing on the swells but still riding relatively sound when the first of the really big waves hit us square on the port quarter. 

We were in relatively shallow water at that point. I knew that because those kind of rollers are an artifact of the depth. 

We went up perhaps 15 feet and crashed down bow first burying the boat up to the forepeak. We popped back up just as we ran into the second roller. It was probably 20 feet high. We went up and down and this time the boat dove to the front of the cabin. 

We must have been taking water because I could hear the bilge pumps start up. I had lashed both Buster and me to the helm stantion using lines to our life jackets. 

That was a good thing because Buster sailed right past me when we dove and if I had not hooked him to something solid he would have gone over the side. 

He shook himself and said, "Gott im Himmel!" 

Did I mention he was mostly Rottweiler? 

I was holding onto the wheel for dear life and I said to him, "You've got that right buddy!" 

We continued that way for another hour. The waves were rollers, not breakers. So we would travel up to the crest and then plunge twenty or thirty feet into a trough. 

The rain stung my face like bee-bees even through my insulated foul-weather suit and goggles.

I eventually lashed the wheel. At that point steering was out of the question anyhow. 

But my trusty old Volvo engine was still giving us a enough headway to stay on the course we were following. The wind was blowing so hard that I had to shelter in the lee of the cabin. 

The kind of pitching and rolling that we were doing might be barely survivable in a 40 foot powerboat. But it is not anything a sailing ship can withstand for long. 

Shortly thereafter the entire mainmast came down. I could see that I was about to lose it when I heard the stays snap one after another like shots. 

Then, the mother of all waves dropped us so far on the other side of the crest that the boat literally stood on its nose up to the cockpit, dragging the mast with it. 

I knew for sure the next one was going to get us. 

That was when I saw her. She was standing in middle of the cockpit, in her familiar pose, with a hand on one hip. 

She was looking at me with the slightly amused smile that I remembered so well. 

She was dressed in the outfit that she was wearing when she went off to jog. It was like she had been waiting for me, frozen in the moment from that fateful day. 

Oddly, the boat had stopped pitching and the rain had ceased. It was perfectly calm. Maybe we were in the eye of the storm? 

She walked slowly to me with adoration written on her perfect face. She wrapped her arms around my waist, just like always, and fastened those incredible emerald eyes on me. 

There were tears running down her cheeks. She said with profound emotion, "I've been waiting fifty years for this moment my love, and now it has arrived."

Then she turned those luscious lips up to me and we kissed. 

Indescribable peace descended on me. Our souls fused into a single entity and we were bonded as one spirit within an eternity of blinding light. 

My last thought was, "So THIS is Heaven!!"

Epilog: Hotel Echo Three Five Four Niner

The hurricane had blown through the night before and as frequently happens with cyclonic storms the sky was now clear and bright. 

Coast Guard Sikorsky S-61R HE-3549 out of United States Coast Guard Station Islamorada was looking for survivors. 

They had gotten an SOS from several boats in that vicinity and they were doing a sweep of the area looking for survivors. 

The Sea-King was at the limits of its search quadrant when the crew saw a large debris field along with a life raft. The raft was completely buttoned up. 

The S-61 went into a standard hover at 25 feet and the rescue diver was deployed. He unzipped the outer shell of the raft and then started waving for an airlift. 

The crew chief dropped a body harness from the rescue hoist. 

The diver grabbed it. What followed was a perplexing amount of fiddling around in the raft. 

There was even more puzzlement when the diver gave the thumbs up to hoist the occupant. 

The occupant was a big dog. He was complaining loudly all the way up to the helicopter. 

As they swung him aboard the crew chief noticed that he had one of those dry erase boards that scuba divers use attached to his collar. 

The message said, "This is my dog Buster. Please take good care of him. No need to look for me. I'm with her now."



The Old Man and the See



I wonder what all the crap is about looking forward to retirement? I finally did retire, let's just say sitting around on my ass waiting for Judge Judy to come on TV ain't really a great life.

Course there is the wife, be nice to knock off a nice relaxed piece of butt now and then if she would go for it. Once a month or so she will reward me with a quickie, I notice it seems to be timed to when the benefit checks come in.

Thelma was OK back when we was young, but over the years everything that went in her face ran down and formed a wad at her ass.

Damn pain in the ass to have to wait for the Sunday paper, hoping for some new undie ads in the inserts to whack off to.

I used to watch the news, but as I got older I realized that it's all the same there. Some Country blowing the shit out of some other Country, stupid ass politicians standing up there opening their mouths and yelling about the American people like they give a shit.

I started to dig up my old garden and plant some stuff, only took about 4 shovelfuls of dirt and my back hurt so bad I said fuck that.

Tried Golf. Yea sure. Not too bad smacking the fucking ball but then ya gotta walk. Well, they do have them little cart thingies, they suck too unless I hire some snotnosed little kid to drag the goddamn heavy clubs in and out of the thing.

Then their fucking hand out after a round expecting me to stick some of my $943 a month Social Security check in it.

Thelma went off onto one of her periods of yapping and pushing on me to "Get up offa yer lazy ass and go DO something!" as I sat there and sipped on my 3rd Bourbon and Coke for the morning.

Only took about an hour of that shit and yep. Off I go outside to hide somewhere and pretend to do something.

So I was sitting out by my garage, sipping away at my pint I kept hidden out where Thelma couldn't find it. I looked up, here came Charlie.

Charlie is a weasly little old fart that lives a couple of doors down. Funny little shit, his eyes dart around, like he is always looking for something. Stupid mustache on his upper lip, he has it sticking out an inch each side.

We are kinda like the odd couple, I am over 6 feet and 240, Charlie is maybe 140 if you dip him in something. But he is sorta OK, makes a fishing buddy although I don't think I ever saw him catch one. To give you an idea, somebody told him that licorice made good fish bait so he showed up with a bagful of them long black twisted things that is supposed to be candy. Sure enough, he sat there all day with one of them on a hook, I finally ate the rest of them.

Better than eating one of his damned sandwiches, he always puts some kind of hot sauce on them that makes my butthole flare up and feel like one of them Chico Gomez hot tacos hung up on the way out.

Guess you could call him a pervert, too. He spends a lot of time peeking out his windows at the neighbor's wives, mine included. Damned if I know why, hell, Thelma's ass is the size of Kansas, and her tits hang damn near straight down. Doesn't help much that she never bothers with a bra. 

One day last year Charlie was over at our house, Thelma came downstairs wearing a pair of shorts that NASA could have hung a rope on and used to stop the space shuttle. Then she had on a white T-shirt, one of those shortie kind that left her belly uncovered, Lord help us. No bra, of course.

Charlie was sitting across from me, Thelma walked over and bent down to set her cup of Bailey's and coffee on the center table, her big ass pointed right at Charlie..

Course her T-shirt gaps down, I swear fucking Charlie did everything but fall off the couch leaning over to get a better look at Thelma's big fat titties.

I thought it was funny, so I reached up and yanked the bottom of her T-shirt up, saying, "Hey Charlie, check these out!"

Then I ducked as Thelma unloaded a right hook that would put George Foreman to shame. She stomped off muttering something about us being "assholes."

Funny stuff at the time.

Anyways, Charlie comes wandering up, grabs my pint and takes a big pull, hands it back. Pissed me off but I didn't say anything, wiping the neck of the pint on my sleeve.

"Hey, let's go down to the beach."

Beach? Sure, just what I neeed, go burn the shit out of my wrinkled up ass sitting on the sand.

"Fuck that." I answered, politely, still rubbing at the neck of my pint.

"Best show in town!" Charlie said.

"Big fucking deal, I have seen swimsuits before."

"Not like these, man." He slapped me on the shoulder. I thought about clipping him one, that hurt. I rubbed at the neck of my pint some more, fucker reached out and grabbed it, took another swig.

"Charlie." I said, a bit of a threat in my tone.

"I ain't got no cooties." He laughed, wiping a drip of snot off his nose with the back of his sleeve. He handed me back the pint, now less than an inch in the bottom. I started wiping at the neck again, moved a bit out of his reach, too.

He hounded at me some more, finally, I agreed. I hollered in at Thelma, yelling out that Charlie and I were going down to the lake to get some sun.

"That's nice Honey." she hollered. "When you get back I need you to do some things around here." 

I grabbed my spare pint, poured some of it in the other one and handed it to Charlie. Then off we went, me thinking it might just be damned late when I got back.

Charlie had this old Dodge Dart, he called it his "classic", feeds me crap about how it would be worth a fortune someday. I grabbed the passenger side door and yanked, after a half dozen tries it came loose and swung open with a groan. Charlie hit the key, got a click and a couple of moans.

"Hmmm? Never did that before." he said.

It did it every single fucking time.

Finaly after a half dozen tries it caught and started, running with a steady clacking noise. Off we went with a belch of smoke, the old slant six engine clanking away but going.

We drove the four blocks down to the parking lot. Charlie carefully locked the doors, even coming around to double check my side like someone was going to even think of stealing the piece of shit.

Took me a pull off my pint, looked out across the lake.

People everywhere.

We wandered down and found a spot, there was a big pile of rocks that afforded a bit of shade, so we took up residence there.

I noticed the family types all seemed to be way down the beach by the water, noisy little brats tearing around with what was obviously couples.

The single folks were up farther away on the dry sand, there seemed to be some kind of imaginary dividing line.

I realized that there were quite a few women laying on their tummies letting the sun turn them into little old ladies. Most of them with their tops off.

Well, that was cool, I took another pull off my pint.

"See what I mean?" Charlie said, big shit eating grin on his face.

Well, not really, just a bunch of kids, mostly, laying there. I suddenly felt funny sitting there in my blue jeans and t-shirt.

Just then this little oriental looking gal came down the beach, she looked at us with suspicion.

Guess she decided we were harmless, she spread out her blanket and set down a big basket.

I noticed right off that she was wearing a yellow bikini, it looked nice against her dark skin, what there was of it. It seemed a bit odd that she was by herself, she was cute as a bug's ear.

"Get a load of that one!" Charlie says, a bit too loud and she heard him. She looked at us, gave us a dirty look, then pulled out a book and plopped down.

She read for awhile, then she set the book down and rolled over on her stomach, glancing our way first. I pretended to not be looking, Charlie just stared, I noticed his eyes were starting to get a bit fuzzy looking, he was sucking on that pint pretty good.

The way she lay put her feet pointed right at us, I looked closer, her bikini was just a little V of cloth, the strings on the sides were those big soft kind that always looked like they were going to come untied and fall off.

She reached back and untied the top, letting the strings fall off to the side.

I must have dozed off, next thing I know Charlie is nudging me.

"Look!" he said.

I looked, the gal now had her legs apart quite a bit, and had moved the string lower to let the sun hit differently. Probably didn't want bikini lines, I guess.

The net effect was to loosen the crotch, I realized I was looking at half her beaver peeking out.

No hair in sight, either. I took a pull off my pint. Fucking Charlie was sitting there, drunk on his ass by now, tongue hanging halfway out.

I looked back over at the gal, she had moved some more and opened her legs further. At first I thought she was doing it deliberately, then I realized she was trying to let the sun in to reach her inner thighs.

Well, I gotta admit it was, too.

Took me another pull off my pint.

Just then she rolled over, bare titties to the world. She reached down and pulled the bottoms back over her pussy, but not before we both got a good long look at the whole thing. She glanced up at us sitting there, did a little grin to herself and lay back.

Good grief!

I was sitting there with my 70 year old weenie sticking out like it hadn't in 30 years, Charlie was in the same state.

It must have been 15-20 minutes that we sat there, both of us silent. Hell, we were trying hard not to have heart attacks. Then she rolled back over on her tummy, legs opened up, came apart even farther. The so-called crotch of her suit wasn't hiding anything at all, hanging all loose a good couple inches. We were staring at a set of fat pussy lips, not a hair in sight. It was starting to swell up and get all wet looking, hell, she was getting off on this!

I took a pull off my pint, I was about to drop a drip in my drawers!

Next she pulls her dang knee up and scratches it with her right arm, the net effect was to pop herself as wide open as it was possible to do.

I took a pull off my pint.

Finally, almost mercifully, she stood up, stretched, and put her top back on. She busied herself gathering up her things. Then she looked right at us, flashed a big smile.

"Enjoy that?"

"Uhhhh..." we said, in unison.

Then with a toss of her head that made her long dark hair sparkle in the sunlight, she headed off towards the parking lot.

"Wow." Charlie managed.

"Yeah." I finished the last of my pint.

Charlie and I got up, headed home.

Thelma was sitting on the couch when we walked in.

"Have a nice time?" she asked, not looking up.

"Yea."

"Well, tomorrow I want you to clean out the brush in the back yard."

Charlie and I looked at each other, I think we were both thinking the same thing, and it wasn't the fucking yard.

I walked over and sat down by Thelma, she looked at me oddly.

"So what's up with yo..."

She looked down, I still had a boner to end all boners. Then she looked over at Charlie, he was forming a pretty good lump, too.

"Oh.." She grinned, got up, headed up the stairs. I watched her fanny twitch as she went up the first few steps.

Halfway up she turned and looked back. I knew the look, got up and followed.

Thelma went into the bedroom, I glanced back at Charlie.

"Well, come on!"

He got a shit-eating grin as big as all outdoors and off up the steps we went.

Thelma was sitting on the edge of the bed, I expected her to throw a fit when she saw Charlie. But she got a real funny look on her face, then she actually blushed and looked down.

I sat down next to her, started rubbing her back first, then I reached under her top and played with her nipples. She didn't resist,so I pulled the top up, showing Charlie her boobs.

He came over and sat down on the other side, started feeling her up, too. She was beginning to break a sweat, her nipples got hard and began to stick out. Charlie was sucking away like a newborn by now.

I gave Thelma a little push, she lay back on the bed while we worked her over good. She didn't do or say anything, just lay there and let us.

I figured what the hell, I undid her shorts, got up and hauled them off her. She didn't have any panties on, but she clamped her legs together, face getting red.

I managed to pry her knees apart, got my pants down and climbed on, I was as big and hard as I ever got when I was a kid. That vision of that little Oriental gal showing off her snatch to us just had me buzzing.

Thelma was all wet and sloppy, she was getting off on Charlie sucking her titties while I banged away at her, and it wasn't long before she started bouncing up and down, moaning.

I didn't last long, popped off with one that dang near blinded me, she let loose with that familiar series of grunts and mashed herself against me, which let me know she came, too.

I rolled over, exhausted. Charlie did a series of sideways scoots, got up on top of Thelma. She opened her eyes wide, looked at him, then over at me. Then she squeezed her eyes shut tight and off they went.

I had never seen anyone go at it before, I was surprised that I didn't mind at all. I went and got me a drink of water, came back in. Charlie's little bare ass was bouncing up and down, Thelma's big hips sticking out each side.

It popped into my head that he might slip and vanish for all time in there, that stuck me as funny and I started laughing.

Charlie started acting funny, then he climbed off Thelma.

"Goddam it! What's so fucking funny?"

I realized he was limp as a noodle, guess he thought I was laughing at him. Well, I guess I was.

That got me laughing again, Charlie pulled his pant on and left.

I looked over at Thelma, laying there naked, her huge legs still spread. That did it, danged if I wasn't getting another woodie.

I went over and climbed on her again, she grunted and muttered something about how big I felt.

Then she asked me what the hell all this was about, in little short bursts of speech as she banged back at me.

"I just gotta go to the beach more often!" I told her.