2 comments/  21442 views/  0 favorites

Us & Then

By: Suite21men



2010 Suite21men

This is a work of fiction. All characters are conceived in my mind and were born and raised in the bits and bytes on my computer.

. If you know a place like Gerty's, let me know. I want to check it out.

For Celeste...

Introduction:

In looking at my finances, I realize I no longer need to work to survive in the modest style I am accustomed to. As I am only 50, I feel blessed with early retirement and am able to focus on projects around the house and my music. Maybe six months after I quit my job (and my electronics career) I notice a request from a non-profit looking for volunteer to help in the maintenance aspects of the facility. I meet the people who were running Gerty's at the time and it looks like a good fit for me.

I have to tell you about Gerty's. It's such a cool place. My band recorded some demos there a while back. Gerty's was named after Gertrude Svenskin. You may have seen her name in film, or TV credits as music director, sound designer, maybe even credited as a writer on a bunch of songs from the olden days. She also owned a record label. Well, many years ago before all that, she went to The University in our town. She graduated and became very wealthy during her years. Before she died about twenty-five years ago, she endowed a large sum of money to The University to facilitate the vision she had. After meetings, discussions, and other such nonsense that goes along with decision-making, The University decided that it would be best to spin the whole concept off as a non-profit. The University would pay for the maintenance of the building and equipment, and Gerty's would pay the other expenses with donations, studio fees, concerts, hall rentals, and of course, alcohol sales. Once all the details were fleshed out including the 501c3 status, a campus was built on prime real estate that Gerty donated and boom, Gerty's was born! I wasn't there at the beginning, but from what I have read it was a success from the start. Multiple studios to record music in. Film editing booths and screening rooms. Dance studios. If you pays your money and become a Gerty's studio artist, you have twenty-four seven access to those studios. Two, count em, two concert halls. 'Satie's Stage', named after the composer Erik Satie, is a 250 seat auditorium for enjoying the likes of a singer/songwriter, a classical music performance, opera, theater, film, ballet and such. The other hall, 'The Roadhouse' has a sign posted from the fire department saying 'Max Capacity 175'. It exuded the ambience of a rock & roll joint. While Satie's Stage had permanent seating, orchestra pit, etc, The Roadhouse was designed to be more flexible. It's able to accommodate theatre in the round, circuses, rock & roll and other dance bands, weddings, receptions, what have you. Gerty's even maintains a small art gallery and gift shop. Using her endowment, The University also hired faculty and created a curriculum focusing on the business and art of music, film, dance and theater, and encourages their students to use the facilities at Gerty's. Oh! I could go on about Gerty's, but I won't. Ms. Svenskin endowed a LOT of money. 

Gerty, herself, was an amazing woman. The more I find out about her, the more I say "Wow!". She understood the foibles of artists and was able to envision an environment to nurture their talent. I can't tell you how floored I am when I find out she even created a special fund to take care of the tendency that some artists have to destroy equipment. The police blotter lists three times in Gerty's history where they had to take action because of some artist's craziness. I can tell you, though, before Gerty's, the main economy in our city was The University. Somehow, because of her vision and the decisions of The University twenty-five years ago, our village has become a cultural mecca and a tourist destination. Two classical orchestras find work here along with regular opera performances. I haven't been able to count all the art galleries and recording studios that have popped up and thrived since Gerty's opened. There are also an extraordinary amount of bars that feature live music. They are all usually packed Friday and Saturday nights. Gertrude's vision has done wonders for our community which has grown by a couple of hundred thousand since Gerty's opened. 

I'm looking forward to the challenges of taking care of the campus four hours a week, having a gift/talent/curse of being able to fix things. I have been known to call myself a 'Jack of most trades, Master of some'. Who am I? Jack is my name. Still in love with the woman I met and fell in love with and 'tied the knot' with after a wild six-month courtship when I was 29. I am in ok shape for my age having that 'middle age paunch' that comes from too much beer, too much nicotine and not enough actividad. I don't have the endurance that I had when I was 30, but I still cut and split my firewood and carry my kegs. Sarah, my wife, calls me belly fat love handles. I call my fifteen pounds an annoyance but I still don't change my habits. The only medication I take is stuff for glaucoma. No, I have no need of Viagra, Cialis, or any other ED drugs. My plumbing still works just fine, thank you. Sometimes too fine.

In spending my time at Gerty's, I expand my passion for the ideas and concepts of that organization and of course, Gerty, herself. Gerty's seems to like me also, as the plaques on my wall can attest. After six years of volunteering about four hours a week, sometimes more, I am offered a staff position of twenty hours a week at close to minimum wage. Enjoying my time there, I readily accept. It was about six months into my paid position when I see her. I am on the roof of one of the campus buildings working on the HVAC systems or something, and I look down and see this beautiful young woman talking to the Executive Director outside one of the entrances. I am captivated. Now, mind you, this particular center attracted all sorts of pretty girls to the various going's on. All ages, all shapes, all beautiful. Must be because of who Gerty was and what she stood for. When I worked in electronics, the joke was that you could have all the solder you could eat. To be able to feast on all this beauty is a much better fringe benefit. But this gal! All I know is that she makes my heart a flutter. With no idea why she is there—musician, dancer, artist, new volunteer, patron or just a visitor—and being in relative obscurity about one hundred-fifty feet away up on the roof, I allow my eyes to drink in this vision not knowing whether I would ever see her again. My eyes are transfixed a whole three minutes until they go inside. I continue on with what I am doing and thank Ms. Fate for allowing me that brief pleasure. Now, a hundred-fifty feet is a long way away to see someone in very much detail. I mean, I ain't got no binoks with me but I could see enough that I wanted to keep seeing.

Meeting:

Well, it turns out that she is a new sales person who focuses on scheduling the booking of the halls for weddings, concerts and what have you. I finally get introduced to her. Celeste! Somehow fits with the stars in my eyes whenever I see her. Some say you can't predict the future. I know it's going to be a good day when, upon arriving Gerty's, I see her car in the parking lot. I find out later she has roots in Montreal and has dual Canadian/USA citizenship. I always have been partial to Canadian women after having met a few a while on business in that country a few years back. They always seem 'softer' to me with that Princess aspect, I guess. With my age and marital status, I try to hide the feelings I have for her. You know. Love, lust, that sort of thing. Only 'bothering' her when it was necessary in the course of business and keeping to the point of the conversation. Always trying to make her laugh, though. One day she is moping around, having a bad day, I notice and say something. It is enough to break her out of her funk for the rest of the day. I feel better the rest of that day myself, loping around with a funny feeling. There are times I have difficultly maintaining my professional persona. Especially when Celeste smiles at me, which is, like, every day we see each other. And every time she does, I melt into a puddle of to be mopped up and dumped down the sink. Can you say jelly? 

The months go on. I hear things she says around me. Talking to a patron. 'Jack keeps things goin' 'round here.' Introducing me to a friend of hers. 'This is Jack. He is the best!' Getting an email from her. 'Thank you! Thank you so much! You are wonderful as always!' Her speaking to me. 'I don't know what I would do without you. You are wonderful, Jack!' One day, I am standing outside taking a smoke break. Celeste comes out of one of the buildings, sees me and starts heading in my direction. I guess I live in quite the fantasy world. As she is approaching me, I'm envisioning she is my lover and hasn't seen me for a while and is rushing to hug, kiss, embrace me telling me how much she missed me and how much she loves me. If she had stepped that one more step, my fantasy would have taken over and I would have wrapped my arms around her in ecstasy, forgetting about my wife, life, and everything else. Basking in this beautiful woman!

One gets those signals and every time I see her, Mr. Green comes up to me in his white polyester suit, hair slicked back, brown drink with ice cubes in on hand and a cigarette in the other. He drapes his cigarette wielding arm over my shoulder and breathes his whiskey laden breath.

"Go! Go man, go! She likes you. You got the hots for her. We are talking major attraction here! What are you waiting for? You're a fool to pass this up." 

At the same time, Ms. Yellow, looking like a high school librarian, wags her finger at me.

"Hey, old man. Who do you think you are? You're just color blind. That is not a green light. She is just being friendly and doesn't feel what you feel she is feeling. You are not rich, so you can't be her sugar daddy. Hell, you have owned both your Jeep and motorcycle longer than she has been on this planet!" 

Then Mrs. Red pops in my vision. Oddly enough, she looks somewhat like my wife.

"What are you thinking about, you old fool? You are happily married. Very much in love with your wife. There is no way you can have another woman in your life. It's not as if you can use those old clichés for an excuse. (Yeah, you know what I am talking about—Wife doesn't want sex anymore; you have grown apart and have different interests and friends; you two are only together for the sake of the kids; wife had an affair; Blah, blah, blah.)"

She morphs into a judge.

"This is a business. Sexual harassment charges apply. So forget about it, Bub." 

Ah. If only it is that easy. Just to be able to flick a knob and poof, feelings turn off like a light bulb. Don't have to worry or think 'bout her no more. No siree! But then again, there is that heat from the million watts of halogen bulbs that has to dissipate.

I tell you. I hear some men are breast men. Some are leg men. Some are ass men. Some are feet men. Some are whatever men. What turns me on to no end is the eyes. I could say that I am an eye am eye mon. With the eyes you can see what they are feeling. You know. Whether they think you are an asshole or a gift for the Goddess. You can also tell if she is an asshole or a Goddess. As I have heard, the eyes are called the windows to the soul. Celeste's eyes have me hooked the first time I gaze in them. I see an angelic Goddess lovingly peering at me in those beautiful soft windows. Now, the eyes are only part of a woman, albeit a big part in my mind. I tell you what, Celeste has all the other parts right also.

Life goes on at Gerty's, and after about two years of basking in the glory of working with Celeste, various difficulties concerning my job are starting to affect me. Giving me a bad attitude. Not good. Very bad. (Well, the various part is mostly related to one person who will not mentioned in this story other than now.) Suffice to say, to maintain my sanity, and to avoid being escorted off the premises, I decide to take a hiatus or sabbatical, as you will, from my position. I inform my boss, Cheryl, and I figure that was that with my sort of relationship with Celeste. Mainly thinking of those yellow and red lights though a green would crop into my feelings every so often. Pleasant thoughts...

Now, of course, Celeste isn't the only person at Gerty's. Nor the only woman I worked with. There is Diane, Hazel, Lyn, Jennifer, Amanda and Nicole and a bunch more I never really met. All professional. All happy and friendly. All beautiful! Steve and Bill and a couple other guys also work there. Nice fellows. As I left on short notice, I feel the need to write a mass mailing telling them how much I enjoyed working with them and wishing them well. I think they are all great people. Alas, I cannot find the words I want to say to express my appreciation of them—especially Celeste. The root of my letter writing difficulty. I want to tell her how much she means to me without letting the others know. Just about an impossible task. Maybe, I should write each of them a personal note, but the words are only written in my mind and only to Celeste. So, as it happens, to most of Gerty's, I just disappear, sorta drop off the face of the earth as they say. I get an email that Cheryl forwarded to me. It's from Hazel asking me to help her with some aspect of campus. I reply and tell her any time. I never hear back from her.

Event:

Time marches on. About a month or so after I gave my notice, Gerty's is having an concert event. Now, I haven't told you about the concert events Gerty's puts on about every two months or so. Gerty, in her infinite wisdom, had set it up so each event would have a theme. Gerty's would challenge the all the studio artists to create a work based on that theme and present it at the event. The University also challenged their students to create a piece of work. So, you would get music, film, dance and theater all focused on that one thing. It would last the whole day into the late evening. The theater, dance and musical performances were recorded and then shown along with the films during the next two months. Like I said, Gerty's is a cool place. This particular theme is called 'Sex and Relationships'. When Sarah and I get there, my chin suffers bruises as it hits the floor. Now, mind you, I have been to many Gerty's concert events but never have I seen the amount of crowds that I see this day. People are everywhere. Hundreds of them. Obviously, for Gerty's, this event is a success. Can't figure out why, though.

I, of course, have many people to talk to. As I hadn't been there in a month or so, there was catching up to do on my part with the Gerty's community. Talking to the studio artists about this and that. Telling the staff what I am doing. That sort of stuff. Then I see her! She is talking to one of the volunteers when she looks up and sees me. I, maintaining my previous professional persona, greet her. To my surprise and delight, she hugs me telling me how glad she is to see me. I am taken aback. We had never hugged before. Well, there was that one time when my band volunteered for a fundraiser for Gerty' a while back. I initiated that hug thinking about the time Celeste referred to the staff at Gerty's as family. This embrace is different though in a way that I don't realize till later. She speaks.

"It's good to see you. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"I'm leaving Gerty's."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Croc O' Dial Records They offered me a position there. It pays a lot more and I've accepted their offer."

"Have you met Helen yet?" I know the label. My band is in negotiations with Helen for a recording contract.

"No. I have heard of her though. I'll be working with Crystal."

"I haven't met her yet"

Then she gets pulled away, pressured to experience an auditory stimulation that is part of the entertainment at the event. I sigh looking at her smiling during this. Oh, she is so beautiful. I still see her face etched in my mind. And, I feel so proud for her. Croc O' Dial is well respected in the music industry. Founded in our community about a year after Gerty's opened, Croc O' Dial's albums have been nominated fifteen times for a Grammy and ended up winning seven of them. My heart leaps at the possibility of working with her but of course that hinges on my talks with Helen. I figure it best if I move on and let her enjoy the moment with her friends. I'll just ignore any implications that she has the hots for me. Once again, I'm focusing on my inadequacies—age, lifestyle, oh yeah, don't forget, married to a woman I love, all the while hurting with desire for Celeste. 

I find Sarah, enjoying one of the shows for a while. Very entertaining stuff. Our drinks end up being empty and I, being the thirsty dude that I am, head off to the bar to satiate my whistle and to pick up a beverage for my wife. Both Celeste and Hazel are at the bar. Hazel is in a 'happy mood' slurring her words. No, I had never seen her that buzzed.

"Heys shack. Washup? Good to she ya. Wash your edresh?"

"Hi, Hazel. I thought you had it. Here, I'll write it down."

Celeste looks at me as though she has been slapped.

"You emailed her and not me? When I found out you left, I sent a note to you. You never answered! I couldn't help but cry when you left without telling me."

"That email address got disconnected for some reason about a week before I quit. You can reach me here."

I am trembling as I scribble my info down and give it to her and Hazel. Oh, man! This woman, whom I fell in love with, want only the best for and desire her happiness, is sad because of me. I fucked up. Once again: Not good. Very bad. I attempt to explain the situation, but all of a sudden I feel the conversation with Celeste is about the accusations that I am cheating on her and I am just blabbing lame excuses. Now, I remind you, I haven't had any physical/intimate contact with Celeste. Haven't even kissed her. Just the two hugs. Still, I feel as though I broke her heart in some fashion. It is still awful/amazing/depressing the way her feelings went from 'Gee, I like you' to 'Eww. what an terrible person you are' in a space of less than a minute.

She gets called away again. I end up getting our drinks and go back to the show and sit with my wife. I am in turmoil now. Never in my mind do I want to hurt Celeste. I want just the opposite. I guess I watch the show for a while but I'm not paying much attention to it. Nicotine fits happen and I need to go satisfy my urge. Of course, one has to leave the building to get their fix and as I walk out the door, I hear Celeste say, "I love you."

I am walking out the door and for some reason unbeknownst to me I say, "I'm not leaving. I'll be back." I am puffing on my fix when all of a sudden it hits me. She said she loves me. I tell you, I must be kind of dense. If I was in my right (wrong) mind, I would turned around that instant when she said that and ask her to take a walk with me. In the eight years I had been there, I knew all the out of the way places to go. Places where we could 'talk' to each other in private. But no, I don't. I stand outside and smoking my cigarette. Coming back inside, I don't see her and rejoin my wife for the end of the show. In leaving, I furtively look for her (with Sarah standing by my side) to say "See ya later" but she has disappeared. Now, I am really charged up. Celeste said she loved me. Wait a minute. My ears are old. Did I hear 'I love you' or was it 'I loved you' as in I loved you before but now I don't.

Aftermath:

It feels the latter I must say. Those few words we exchanged are etched in my brain. Remembering that night brings me two feelings. One takes me to a place where Celeste and I have been intimate and then break up because of something I did or didn't do. It's a weird feeling; this woman I desire is telling me she 'hates' me, but in my mind, just because she is talking to me, I feel good about it. What is that all about? Probably it stems from her beauty and her voice and the way she forms her words. I have never been 'dumped' is such a glorious fashion. The other is based in reality where I lose this woman out of my life.


Us & Then



Well, she is not out of my life. There, her name is in the paper about a medal 'Celeste' won in the Olympics. An email from an art gallery announcing a showing 'Celeste's' work. My wife finding a new vet for our cats. Guess her name. In looking at music industry news, 'Celeste' is coming back to Montreal to release an album. Then there is that picture of Miley Cyrus in the newspaper that makes me do a double take. It looks like Celeste. I search this singer on the internet. She's cute and in looking at the pictures I found, she could hold a candle to Celeste. Of course, that million watts of halogen light previously mentioned would kind of wash that flame down the drain.) I am torn asunder. Wanting to forget her and not wanting to forget her. Yikes!!!

Right after I am so gloriously dumped, I dash off an email to Celeste, whispering those sweet nothings and telling her about my attraction to her, hoping to save a portion of what we had. I get nothing back in spite of sitting in front of my computer and getting excited every time that icon changes to let me know I have mail. I feel like that teenage girl who sits by the telephone waiting for a call from a guy she went 'most of the way' with last night. The hours drag into days. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. The call never comes. How long does one wait in futility? Well, that call did come. Sort of. Not really. In her letter announcing her leaving Gerty's to go to Croc O' Dial, she invites the approximately fifty people in her mailing to stay in touch. It is a beautiful letter that honors all the people she had met at Gerty's. I write her enthusiastically saying as such and informing her that, you betcha, I want to keep in touch. I also ask her if she wants to be on my band's mailing list. She writes back and says she would like that. Her reply does nothing to stoke the fires I am burning.

Now, I am no stranger to unrequited love. In my thirty monogamous years of being married, there have been a handful of women that I met and fell in love with. Yeah, they smiled at me nice and seemed extra friendly which made me desire them. I would quietly lust after them for months, then they would move away, I or they would switch jobs, or something. I then would dream of the regret I had not being able to explore their tight bodies and sharp minds. I am used to this. It's all a private fantasy. Just a little game I play with myself. I love and lust after some woman. Nobody knows except me. Nobody gets hurt. It's a fun pastime. They are beautiful, sexy and friendly, but they never have me convinced that they actually desire me also. They are neatly filed in the library of my mind under Women I Love. I am unable to forget them to this day, always wondering what it would be like in to be in a relationship with them. I seem to be developing a habit of chasing women and then, never thinking or knowing what I will do if I accidentally catch them. Celeste broke the rules of my game! Celeste said she loved me! The only other woman who has said that to me was Sarah, and you know what happened there.

Celeste said she loved me! Celeste also loves her clothes. So do I. I especially like that one silky dress that comes to just above her knees, swinging flirtingly as she walks. It shows off her curves perfectly. A Cleric recently purported that men seeing women's skin and their curves causes earthquakes and women should shroud themselves in baggy clothes. (Where is Pat Robertson when I need him?) No earthquakes here. There is a Jackquake, though. When she is wearing that dress, I fight off the urge to come up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist and start gently massaging her belly. She leans back on me, moaning as I kiss her neck. One hand finds her breast as she wiggles her ass against my rising erection. My other hand slides on down to feel that luxurious and sexy fabric covered body. Her pussy feels extra sensual when my hand gets there. The smooth silkiness. The soft springiness. Her mons. The heat. Her dampness. My own shorts becoming wet from the precum oozing out of my straining cock. I cannot resist. Neither can she. As she leans over the desk, purring and moving seductively, I drop my pants and shorts. Lifting her skirt, exposing her beautiful cheeks, I take time to kiss them before moving her thong aside and ramming my throbbing cock inside her soaking pussy. This is not making love. This is pure unadulterated fucking. Only ten minutes have passed since I first touched her belly till we are both singing that joyful song of release. We stay locked for a few minutes more, my pants at my ankles, her dress on her back, both of us breathing heavily until we reluctantly separate. When we do, I let my hands roam a little bit, soaking in that glorious feeling of how her body feels through that fabric. 

Celeste said she loved me! Oh, boy. If I was single, I would be right there calling her up, asking her out, pursuing that gal, making a nuisance of myself . As it is, I keep thinking about her. Where does she live? Alone, or with roommates? What kind of sheets does she have on her bed? Does she think of me? Does she watch TV and have a favorite show? What does she eat? Does she cook? What kind of books does she read? Is she one of those church going religious types? What does she do after work? Is she lonely at night? Is there a place I could go that I might be able to run into her, sorta accidentally like? Questions, questions, questions. With no answers. I know she was driving a black compact car with a hubcap missing. I think it was a Chevy. You might not believe all the black compact cars with hubcaps missing that have been breaking my neck when one enters my vision.

Celeste said she loved me! Ok, now I am close to sixty and she is somewhere around twenty-five. What kind of love are we talking about? Fatherly, brotherly, otherly love? Me, I am still thinking/fantasizing/dreaming it's the 'otherly' love. The love where intimacy is the order of the day. Where the orgasms are fulfilling. When you experience the joys of that person and then see the ultimate beauty that belongs to them. In my mind, there is no more beautiful sight than a beautiful woman in the throes of an beautiful orgasm. In that space, they aren't thinking about the dusty shelves, dirty clothes, the good/bad day at work, car troubles, or any other difficulties or pleasures in their world. My joy is in coaxing them to their paradise so I can see that beauty. If I am able to bring them there, Wow! Do I feel good! Like I know that I should!

Celeste said she loved me! Maybe some scenarios played out will sort this out for me. How 'bout the one with me making clandestine phone calls and setting up secret meetings in out of the way motels. Celeste becoming the 'other woman'. Of course, this is assuming she would consider that type of arrangement with me. What would happen then? It is possible we could carry on like this for a few weeks or months and it would most certainly be a revitalizing experience for me. To be able to hold and revel in the joys of being close and intimate with that woman and her body. My goose starts bumping when my mind starts wandering over her gorgeous shape. Staring deeply into those beautiful eyes. A light shallow kiss. Another one, this one longer, deeper, more passion. Hands and arms that were still during that first kiss are moving now, tentatively at first, but now, with each passing second, exploring further and further. My hand starts massaging her right breast. Oh, it feels so good in my hand! Even through the clothes she has on. Just the right size. Soft and firm. Hearing a little moan. Moaning in reply. My one eyed buddy is starting to take notice of what is happening and starts knocking on the door. My other hand on her back, urges Celeste to grind her belly against my little friend. I move my hand to her other breast and sing my praises of worship to this Goddess. 

We pull apart and begin undressing each other. Slowly, one button at a time. Each one sealed with a kiss. She pulls my shirt off and rubs her hand over my bare chest. I quake from her touch. I remove her top and have to stop to admire her demure and sexy red lace bra. Cupping each breast at the bottom, I push them up to meet my wanting lips. Showering kisses on tits, cleavage and neck and every so often ending up at her lips. Oh, the cornucopia of scents I am experiencing! Vanilla, cinnamon, musk, shampoo, 'glow', the faint, sweet odor that is starting to emanate from her treasure chest and more. All heavenly. One time after leaving her lips, I find out she had been busy too. No more lace to get in my way. My lips on her bare skin. I find a nipple and start flicking it with my tongue, then circular motion around it feeling the little nub stiffening up. Mmmmm, yes, just like that. Move over to the other one after stopping in the center to squeeze her 'girls' against my cheeks. We fall to the bed. While massaging both firm nipples with my fingers and mouth, I feel the need to return to those luscious lips. Soft, full and extremely kissable, but even more of a joy because they belong to Celeste. She is moving her hands all over my body. Gentle, urgent, loving hands that are pushing all those buttons, switches and knobs that are tuning in my desire for her. Unbuckling my belt, sliding her delicate hand over the hard/soft object in my pants. Undoing the button, now, sliding the zipper down, reaching in my shorts to stroke me and stoke my fire. 

Reluctantly, I have to leave her lips. There are so many other places I have to go. I slide my lips over her neck lightly nipping that special place. She growls. I leave her neck and continue, leaving a trail of wetness to those magnificent breasts that I met earlier. I only linger a little bit though. As much as I enjoy my stay here, I must move on. My tongue slinks lower. Nuzzling my face in this belly I idolize. The softness, the tightness, the downy hairs that grace her skin. Ooh! I have to savor in this moment as I cruise to her belly button. So perfect. I am compelled to kiss it and lap my tongue on and in it. Celeste's body is becoming agitated. Head shifting from side to side. Legs rubbing my side. Hands on my head, enticing me on. I go on. Lower. Unzipping and sliding her skirt down her legs, discovering matching red lace panties, I suck in my breath and my heart starts palpitating. The skirt goes on the floor as I delight in the feel of it. Her panties! They will not leave her body to soon. Their sexiness, the aroma, the dampness. I drink in that beauty becoming overwhelmed with what I feel. Mr. Happy is pounding, throbbing in my boxers.

My face is now hovering just above that triangle. Reveling in the ecstatic and intoxicating aromas I find. As much as I need to linger and enjoy this place of delight, I must continue my journey. Duty calls. I leave a kiss and slide down her left thigh. Such a beautiful leg. Slender and firm, it trembles with my touch. I lavish my praise up and down her limb until I reach her toes. Her nails have this pale, purple sheen to them that glow in the dim light. The shapes of her toes curve around so sexily. I cannot help myself. I take her foot in my mouth and start sucking on each individual appendage. What a delight! I pull her right leg closer and move on to that foot, knowing the same delights await me. I don't linger too long though. I am drawn to that work of art where those aromas emanate. I arrive. I pause. What a beautiful sight! What a wonderful ecstasy for my nose. As sexy as her panties are, they have to go. My hands reach around her rear, fingers hooking on the elastic. My teeth latch on elastic in the front. Now as a team, we slide them down. The little hairs tickle as I let my nose linger on this ever so intoxicating place I finish sliding her panties off and bury them in my face where I can inhale their sweet scent. Mmmm So good! I return to the source. Her pussy. Her cunt. Her tunnel of love. Her gateway to her Goddess. It is puffing out becoming dark around the edges. Drops of dew are collecting on the hairs surrounding her opening. So enticing. I stick my tongue out to harvest that dew. Ahhh! That sweet nectar of the Goddesses. My hands move up to revisit her tits and I find out I have company. Celeste is massaging her breasts making little guttural moans. I put my hands on hers, catching on to her rhythm and begin my feast. 

Have I told you I like Celeste's pussy? No? Well my tongue sure does. It has developed a mind of its own. Licking those puffy lips. Going around in circles first one way, then the other, teasing at the opening. Celeste is becoming more agitated. The moans are getting louder. I bury my tongue in her opening. I have to have more of that nectar. I can't get enough. Swirling my tongue around lapping at those juices. Her hips are now moving a little bit to fast. Her thighs are squeezing and releasing my head. I release my hands from her hands on her breasts and slide them down, pausing briefly on her quivering belly. Grabbing her hips, controlling her shaking, I pull her closer to my face. My one eye friend is screaming at me now. I tell him I have my hands and face full of ecstasy and he will have to wait. My tongue finds her clitoris. Licking that nub very lightly. Teasing it. A little more forcibly now. Sucking on it. Then it happens. Her orgasm raises her hips up, forcing my head with them, her thighs push my ears inside my skull and then she freezes. A frailer man would have suffered a broken neck. This is all to much for me and I explode in my shorts.

Celeste finally releases the hold on my head as her hips sink back down, breathing heavily. So am I. Lapping up the fresh crop and giving a few more loving kisses in our afterglow, I leave this slice of nirvana, remove my shorts and join with this beautiful woman. She giggles when she sees my wet moustache. I am not as hard as I was before but I am by no means soft. She feels my wetness on my on my lower belly where it touches her body and looks at me questioning. I nod my head in affirmation. She moves her hand to feel my spentness. She rubs her fingers in the product of our love, bringing them back up to put them in her mouth. She smiles at me. 

"Mmmm Tasty." 

My cock twitches with her words. I respond with a little giggle and a passionate kiss to her lips. 

We lay there quietly in our embrace for few minutes coming down from our high. I cannot keep my hands off her. Her hands are wandering too. They find my cock.

"You are still hard."

"I never was a one shot wonder. Not only that, but, you are so sexy and beautiful and you have touched all my right buttons."

She gets this gleam in her eyes and moves her mouth to where her hands are and introduces herself to Mr. Happy. He is more that glad to meet her and snaps to full attention. She moves her lips over the veins, kissing the eye, then she takes the bulbous head in her mouth, swirls her tongue around the tip and releases me. She giggles while she is moving her hands up and down my cock. Such an exquisite feeling. Again, I feel her lips. This time she goes farther. She has half of my throbbing love muscle in my mouth. Moving her head up and down sends sparks throughout my whole body. She releases me and giggles again as she continues to stroke me. Pre cum forms on the eye.

"Is that for me?"

I groan unable to talk. She licks that pearl slowly and sensually until it is gone. Another one is forming but that is soon covered up as she takes all my length down her throat. I am writhing in glorious agony as she pays loving attention to my one eye buddy who keeps twitching, showing how alive he is. She then removes her mouth with a pop and says,

"I know where I want this to go." 

She crawls on top of me, kissing me, grinding her cunt against my cock. Sitting up, she takes my cock and starts rubbing it against her pussy. It slips in. We both halt what we are doing to fully experience the incredible sensations we are feeling. Celeste is in control now. She moves up and down my shaft. We are moaning in two part harmony. I am kneading her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples, and basking in the smells of our coupling. Moving faster. Feeling her urgency, I start bucking myself. She freezes and cries out. This time I get to see her face as she orgasms. I am a lucky man. Collapsing on top of me, she showers me with kisses which I eagerly return. 

Slipping out, she lies next to me. I take this opportunity to stare at her half closed eyelids and that smile I have always loved. I put my hand on her head while I am gazing upon her and start massaging her scalp. She sighs, "That feels good." We lay there for a while like that. I kiss her lips and her tongue slides in my mouth. My tongue finds hers and we are dancing. I move one hand to her breast, delighted to revel in the feel of her. I crawl on top of her. She takes my cock and guides it to her love canal. I push in and pull out. Back in again, I halt my motions. I want this to last. I savor the feelings I am getting as I hold there for about a half minute. Then I start moving again. Slowly, deliberately. My eyes never let go of hers. I am moving faster now. So is Celeste. Faster. I am pounding now, letting my animalistic lust take over. She is right with me. Her face and chest are flush and she is breathing hard. My breath is inhaling and exhaling at a high rate also. We are waking wet noises as my balls bounce against her. Slap. Slap. Slap. I am getting close. So is she. Faster. Faster. Building. Building.

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes!" 

We are no longer moaning. We are speaking the language of love. She cries out and stiffens. I do the same and feel that volcano erupt with such force. Four spurts hit her back wall as I cry out. I collapse. Spent, drained, catching my breath as Celeste does too. Now, I am shrinking inside her. We lay like that for a little bit. My cock behaving like a cock should after orgasm. I lift my head up, open my eyes and once again drink in this beauty. I kiss her as she kisses me back. I break the kiss and look into her eyes. We start to giggle. The giggles turn into full blown laughs of joy. Calming down now, I look deeply into her eyes. 

"That was wonderful, Jack." 

"Yes it was."

Eyeing the clock, I realize that Celeste and I both have people to be and places to see. I do my best to wash that crusty stain off my boxers, having some success. We shower together, washing each other, get dressed and have one last embrace

"I'll call you."

"I love you."

With that she walks out the door softly humming to herself, gets in her car and drives away, leaving me in the doorway watching her every move. Ah, well. Time to do what I have to do. I pick up my keys from the table, look around the room. What is this I see? Oh. It is those red lace panties. So delicate and wispy. She must have forgotten them. My cock twitches again thinking about her walking around with her sumptuous pussy uncovered. Don't want the maid to find them. I'll return them to Celeste later. I luxuriate in their fragrance and put them in my pocket. Walking out the door, I take one last look, fondly remembering what we were doing for the past two hours or so. I shut the door, climb into my car and head off to that appointment I had. My crotch is mostly dry when I get there. I park and remembering Celeste's panties, I hold them up to my face and take a deep sniff and shove them back in my pocket. Now, I am ready for my meeting.

At home, I give Sarah a kiss and she asks how my appointment had gone. I tell her it went great. The company is throwing a party for its employees and wanted to see about hiring my band as the entertainment. She listens as I explain how we haggled over price and other details and in the end we were both satisfied with the deal we had made. I tell her the gig is next month.

"That sounds great!" She says. For just a second, I think she is looking at me strangely.




Us & Then



"Yeah, I am looking forward to it. I have to call my band and tell them."

We are watching the tube that night. Some silly show. My mind is not on the TV. It is reminiscing on the two hours I had spent with Celeste. We go to bed at our usual time, me tossing my clothes in the laundry basket. As I am drifting off to sleep with my hand wrapped around Sarah's breast, I am thinking sweet dreams of Sarah. And Celeste. 

A couple of days later, I am working on a project in my workshop. Sarah calls me on the intercom and says she wants to talk to me. 

"Sure. I'll be right there." I come to a stopping place and go into the kitchen. I stop cold. Uh oh. She is holding those panties.

"What are these?" She demands. The blood drains from my face and it was getting difficult to breathe.

"Uh, uh." I stammer. "I, um, found them." Well, it was the truth.

"I thought something was up when you came home the other day but I couldn't put a finger on it. Now, I know. You are having an affair, aren't you? Who is she? What happened to the trust we had?" Her eyes are swelling up and she is starting to snivel.

"Aren't you going to say anything???"

What could I say? What I was saying to myself was 'Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh man. Oh shit. Oh fuck.'

"I'm sorry. This girl desired me and I wanted her too much to resist."

Sarah screamed, "You wanted her? You wanted her? Didn't you even think of me!? What about us?!!? How many times have you betrayed me!!??" I'm unable to say a word.

With that she cries her way into the bedroom and slams the door. I am still standing there, dumbstruck. I sit down. I can't move. I stay there hours as the sun goes down. Silence. Tick, tock, tick tock. My mind is rushing around to all places. Dark. Tick, tock, tick, tock. I can't maintain a coherent thought. Tick, tock, tick, tock. I hear the bedroom door open. Sarah comes out with a suitcase.

"I'm going to stay with a friend." She says angrily as she walks out the door, gets in her car and peels away.

My home turns into a house. A very lonely house. Later a process server knocks on the door and hands me the papers. The judge says that, he is awarding Sarah eighty percent of our assets. Well, that leaves me with just about nothing. I call Celeste and tell her the news. She says she is very sorry for me and proceeds to tell me all about her new boyfriend. How he does this and how he is that. I listen half heartily while sinking back into that puddle. No. Not the puddle of love that I evolved into back when Celeste would smile at me at Gerty's. No, this is a nastier one. One full of despair. Void of hope. Lacking in love.

***

Ooh. I don't like that ending. I guess that vision was, as has been said by a much better author than me, 'It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.' Ok. I don't see how that is going to work. I suppose if it wasn't the panty incident, it would have been something else. I can imagine a spouse of thirty years would suspect something was up. I have experienced the transformation of Sarah when she becomes attracted to someone. I also believe that, if she took her interest to that level, I would know. Maybe not. I do know that even though I desire and love Celeste dearly, I cannot betray the trust and love that Sarah has for me. I suppose, though, if Sarah and I developed an open, polyamorus relationship, then I could enjoy being intimate with Celeste. Only, of course, if she were amenable to that idea.

Conclusion:

Celeste said she loved me! So, what do we have here? A fifty-nine year old happily married man loving/lusting over a beautiful twenty-five year old woman who, after saying those three one syllable words, has not communicated in months. "Wud up, Dud? Ya stoopid or sumthin'?" Yeah, it is sinking in. It is 'otherly' love. The 'He is the kind old man who takes care of her problems at work' kind of love. That would probably be the only way to recreate the magic that we had. The safe environment of the public work place where the reason for contact is business and just enjoying each other's presence. Celeste and I had worked together two years and I thought she was special and she made me believe that she thought I was special in her life. Where would we have gone if I had realized what she meant to me and told her personally what my reasons for leaving in a timely fashion? Where would we have gone if I didn't feel the need to get out of Gerty's? What ifs that will never be answered..

A voluminous body of work has now been entered and cataloged into my Library Of Love. All about Celeste. The only collection that is larger in my synapses is Sarah's. A long time has past since Celeste spoke those three magic words that have affected me so much. I have come to the realization that I will probably never see her again. Every so often I visit my library and dwell on the memories I choose. I will never forget that smile. And the look in her eyes. Tonight we are going to another concert event at Gerty's. This time the theme is 'Humanity's Impact'. I wonder if I will see her there...

Epilogue:

Negotiations with Helen ended after my band broke up over 'creative differences'. I found new people to play with and Helen said that, maybe, when we get our act together, we can talk again. No, I haven't seen hide nor hair of Celeste. Still think about her every so often. In my travels, I see other women who remind me of her. They are very pretty but are not Celeste. About six months after I gave my notice, I get a call from Cheryl. Remember that person who won't be mentioned except at that time? He has to be mentioned again. Cheryl informs me that he was found passed out in one of the studios one morning, drunk with meth paraphernalia strewn around, and it sure looks like it was he was the one who smashed the equipment. The police are called for the fourth time in Gerty's history. Cheryl also asks me if I want to come back. I say you betcha. I missed working there. Like I said before, I have a passion for Gerty's. They expand my duties, even give me a modest raise. Six months later, I am in one of the studios and have my head buried in a mixer fixing it. I need to solder a switch. In reaching for the iron, out of the corner of my eye, I see Cheryl and a gorgeous woman in the recording booth talking. I have to look and her eyes catch mine. Beautiful eyes. She smiles at me. Wow! What a smile! I smile back at her as my heart is fluttering. Can you say jelly? Well, it turns out that Angelina is a new employee who focuses on...

Finis