23 comments/ 35248 views/ 6 favorites I Turned Sixty-One This Year By: Scorpio44 I turned sixty-one this year. That was something of a surprise to me. I didn't think I would turn sixty-one, ever. Most of my life I believed I would be dead before I was thirty. I thought that even after I turned thirty. Then I thought I'd be gone before I was fifty. I had plenty of evidence that I might be right. I had been in three plane crashes and I've lost count of the cars and trucks I've been in when they crashed. I have diabetes, high blood pressure and kidney disease. So, I was a little surprised when I hit sixty-one and was still here. Not so early in life I got married. I was thirty-four. I was busy going to school and doing eight years in the military before that. We stayed married ten years. For the first eight we had what I called a good marriage. We seemed to have goals and wants that matched pretty well and our sex lives were good. As good as two inexperienced lovers could have it be, when both were virgins except with each other. We had missionary sex in the dark twice a week. I convinced myself that was what married people who went to church did. Beginning in year nine of our marriage my wife, Mary, miscarried three times in a year and a half. That did something. That ended the let's-have-sex-a-lot pattern of our lives. I know now that twice a week in the dark isn't a lot of sex but I didn't know that then. After the third miscarriage the doctors convinced us that another pregnancy would kill both Mary and the baby, so she had her tubes tied. On the way home from the hospital she opened a door into her thinking that she had never shared before. "Since I can't have children anymore I don't have any interest in sex." I didn't say anything. I wrote off her statement to the strain and emotion of having miscarried again and having an operation. I figured that within a few weeks or a couple of months she would be inviting me back between her legs. Six months went by and not once had she kissed me like a lover or a wife. She hadn't joined me in the shower, hadn't patted me on the butt and was offended the three times I had patted her. I wanted to scream at her, yell, rant, beg or whatever would end the drought! She also all but stopped talking. Conversations with her were marked by short utterances like, "Whatever you want." "I don't really care" became almost a mantra. One Friday night at the end of those six months we were invited over to the home of our pastor for dinner. We accepted thinking that there would be a dinner party. It was just the four of us. The dinner was good and the conversation during dinner was mostly about the congregation and the planned summer activities. After dinner we sat in the living room and the pastor opened the subject that had prompted the invitation in the first place. "I know the two of you have been wondering why we invited you here for dinner tonight. You know that it is part of my job to work with couples that are having some problems. I am always looking for signs that something is changing, something is off, in a relationship. Both Carole and I have noticed some changes in your marriage and we want to help, if we can." Mary spoke up. "I don't know what you think you saw but I do not want to talk about any problem we may be having." The pastor held his hands up and Mary stopped. "What I'm saying is that we have noticed that your marriage is changing. We want to help if we can and at the least to understand." "Then, what have you seen?" Carole spoke. "I used to love seeing the two of you walking into church and at the end of services watching you walk back to your car. I watched you sit in church snuggled close together. Then, about a six months ago, I saw you get out of your car and walk into church without holding hands. You sit together in church but you never touch each other. I've seen you in town shopping a couple of times and there isn't any touching there either." "What, are you spying on us?" Mary was getting angry. I could hear it in her voice. "No. I love seeing people expressing their love and affection. If I could I'd pass a rule that everyone in church touch the people they sit near, that everyone hug instead of shake hands. I see people holding hands and I smile. When I stop seeing it I wonder what's happened." "I don't do that stuff anymore because I don't want to encourage him," Mary said. She was sitting at the far end of the couch from me. Her legs held tightly together, her hands clenched in her lap. "I don't understand" Carole said. She was sitting in a chair near the chair her husband was sitting in. Her hand was on his forearm. Her legs were slightly parted and her other arm was on the arm of her chair. Her body language was open. Mary's was closed, locked up, unavailable. "If I hold his hand he will think I want sex. If I snuggle with him I can count on he will want to have sex when we get home." "And, what would be wrong with that?" "I can't!" The words were spat, not spoken. "I'm ruined. I'm not fit to be a wife. I know Nick is going to leave me. I just don't know why he wants to torture me first." This was news to me. I knew she thought about things differently than I did but this floored me. What was she thinking? "Honey, I don't know what you're talking about. I love you. You are my wife." "It is the wife's job to give her husband children. I tried. Now I can't. When they tied my tubes they killed our marriage. I'm not even a woman!" "I don't care about having children! I love you! I would make love to you every day until the second coming without ever feeling badly that you didn't have a baby. If you want children, we could adopt! " "They wouldn't be my children! I'm never going to have any children!" Mary's voice was almost a scream. Tears streaked down her face. Her hands were fists held tightly in her lap. "I love you, Mary." I said it softly. I was looking at her. She slowly turned and said, "I love you too but I am not your wife anymore. I cannot meet my obligation as a wife and I will not degrade you anymore. Now, please take me home." We rode home in silence. Once home she went into our bedroom and began to pack. I followed her into the bedroom and said, "You don't need to go." "I get to make a choice. I can go as a failure, not a wife, not a mother, not even a woman or I can stay as a whore. I hate that my life is reduced to this! But, I won't be a whore!" "A married woman is not a whore! You are my wife!" "No! A wife can have babies! That's her job. I can't have babies! I'm not a wife. If I go to bed with you it's not as a wife, it's as a whore! Want me in bed? Do you want your whore?" "You are not a whore! You are my wife!" "No!" She was no longer folding things before they went into the suitcase. They were being shoved in. "What will you do? Where will you go?" "I told my mom that I might be moving back home soon. She cried. She thinks you did something horrible. I'll tell her the truth when I get there. I want to die." "I love you." "You can't! I can't be a wife!" It was a scream. An hour later she was gone. The next day I was sitting at my desk at work not getting much done when the phone rang. It was Mary's mom. We had known each other for nine and a half years and this was the first time she had ever called me at work. "Nick, this is Elaine, Mary's mother." There was no emotion in her voice. It was flat and cold. I wondered what Mary had told her. "I recognized your voice." "Nick, Mary told me everything last night." I interrupted, "No, Mary told you less than half of everything last night. She told you what she made up as real and she told it to you as fact." "Nick, I am so sorry." "For what?" "For teaching Mary all her life that her number one job in life was to get married and have babies." "Then the apology needs to be given to her, not me." "I gave it to her. She wouldn't take it. Now I can't give it to her anymore." "Once was all you could say it? Say it again!" There was a pause on the line. When Elaine's voice came back it was a whisper. "Nick, Mary killed herself." I don't know if I hung up the phone or I just dropped it. A secretary told me later that I screamed "No!" at the top of my lungs and cried for over an hour. Mary was gone! At the time I believed that I would never love anyone again. I wouldn't date for fifteen years. I could have, but I wouldn't. I worked and I focused on that to get me through each day. I was in the office before dawn and left after dark every day. On the days that the office was closed I worked at home. I boxed all the things in the house that reminded me of Mary and put them away. I wasn't alive, I was surviving. Ten years after Mary died the company hired a secretary for me. They hired a woman about my age and she was great. She didn't push me to be friendly or to chat. We did our jobs and as long as the conversations were about business I was even comfortable. She called me Mr. Peterson and I called her Mrs. Archer. If I had been asked during the first years of our working together to describe Mrs. Archer I could not have done it. Her looks did not intrude into my thinking. In the fifteenth year of our working together Mrs. Archer changed. It wasn't me, it was her. One day I went into her office and I smelled something. Not the standard office smells but something that got my attention. I handled the transaction that had me go into her office and went back to mine. For the rest of the day I thought repeatedly about what that smell might be. On the drive home it hit me! The smell was vanilla! Early the next day I went into her office again and noticed the smell of vanilla was there again. Then I noticed something else. Mrs. Archer had softly curled red hair. It cascaded to her shoulders and shined. I had never noticed that she had red hair. I thought that she must have recently colored it. I buried myself in my work. Thoughts of Mrs. Archer intruded into my concentration two or three times a day for the next couple of weeks. I can't say that she was doing anything differently than in the past because I cannot recall ever paying any attention to what she wore, or smelled like, or how she had her hair, or anything except she did good work. After a couple weeks of having her intruding into my thoughts I noticed something else. I was driving home from work and I turned on the radio in my car. For most people that wouldn't even be significant. It was for me. From the day Mary left I hadn't listened to the radio, a CD, or any music. I had moved my music collection into the room where I kept all of Mary's stuff. The door to that room had been untouched for years. I found myself driving down the Santa Monica freeway listening to an oldies station. I almost had a wreck! The next day I got in my car headed for work and I sang along with some of the old music. I attempted to refocus myself on my work. I was afraid if I started listening to music again they would play some of the stuff Mary had liked and I would feel the old hurt again. A couple days later I took a report in to Mrs. Archer and she was sitting at her desk having lunch. It looked like a sandwich brought from home, an orange and a Diet Coke. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt your lunch." I turned to go. "Stop, Mr. Peterson. You haven't interrupted my lunch. You have finally come in at the right time. Please sit down." "No. You are eating your lunch. I'll come back later." "No. Sit down Mr. Peterson. We need to talk." Her tone and body language were clear. I sat down in the chair next to her desk. She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a plastic sandwich bag with a sandwich in it and handed it to me. Then she reached into the drawer again and I got a Diet Coke. "Eat." I didn't argue. When I had entered her office I had no awareness of being hungry but as I unwrapped the sandwich I realized I was very hungry. As I lifted the sandwich to my mouth I said, "Thank you Mrs. Archer." "When we are at work I expect that I am Mrs. Archer. We are not at work right now. I would like it very much if you would call me Mia." "Mia. I didn't know." "There are lots of things you didn't know." We ate in silence until the sandwiches and the shared orange were gone and the Diet Cokes were empty. I started gathering trash and preparing to leave when Mia spoke again. "According to the employee handbook we get forty-five minutes for lunch. We have twenty-three minutes left. I want you to sit there and listen to me for the entire twenty-three minutes." I relaxed into the chair and said, "OK." "Did you know when I started working for you?" I shook my head and said, "A few years ago." "Yes. Almost fifteen years ago. I had been working for the sales manager before I transferred to this office. I heard about your wife and I identified with how you were feeling. At least I thought I did. I came to work here and learned a powerful lesson. Everyone deals with loss in their own way. You were a robot. For almost five years I have worked for a robot. And, even though you didn't know it, you had a robot working for you. Both of us had shut down. We survived by not feeling and not even seeing people." She sat back a little and I noticed, for the first time, that she had freckles. "About three months ago something happened in my life and it snapped me back to life. My sister came to live with me for a month or so. She was having trouble in her family and needed to be away from them for a little while. Every night she talked to me and I started listening. I realized that she wanted to live her life. She wanted to be happy. My sister ached for happiness, ached to have her husband put his arms around her and say ' I love you' to her. Late one night I sat up in bed and realized that I wanted to live too." I didn't move. I could smell her perfume. I was looking at her and realizing that Mia was a woman, an attractive woman. I was listening but didn't know why she was telling me all this. "I had shut down after Mr. Archer died. I needed a job and I kept this one so I wouldn't starve. I came to work for you because there was no emotion in here. I stayed because I convinced myself that working and living with no emotion was for the best. Now, I've changed my mind." "Are you quitting me?" "No. I'm doing better than that. I want you to follow me home after work and have dinner with me." "I haven't eaten anywhere but at home since..." "So, it's about time for a change." "I don't think I'd be very good company." "OK. I will be quitting at the end of next week." "I thought you said you weren't quitting." "If you won't come for dinner, I quit." "That's blackmail!" "It is what it is. You choose." Mia opened the center drawer of her desk and gave me a hand-written card. Printed on the card were directions to her house. "Just in case you don't follow very well." I stood and walked back to my office. I have no idea what I did for the rest of the day. At five I walked out to my car and followed Mia home. I parked in front of her home and met her on the porch. Mia opened the door and had me enter first. "You aren't running now that I've gotten you this far." 'Ok. I'm here. I won't run." I entered her home and she turned on some lights. "Where is your sister?" "She went home on the bus yesterday. Make yourself comfortable on the couch. I'll be right back." When I sat on her couch I saw that here living room was like out of a magazine. Nothing was out of place. It didn't look lived in. There was one magazine on the coffee table, a National Geographic from last year. I thought about looking at it but Mia came back before I picked it up. She sat at the other end of the couch, turned towards me, tucked one leg under her body and smiled at me. "You didn't even loosen your tie. I asked you to get comfortable." My hands loosened my tie. "I wish I had one of those digital cameras right now. I'd like to show you the expression on your face." "Why? Do I look sick or something?" "No. I think the right word would be bewildered." "You may be right. I am way out of my comfort zone. I don't think I ought to be here." "Nick, are we breaking any laws by being here? Are we in violation of some company policy?" "No. At least I don't think so." "Is my husband going to come home and catch you here with your tie loosened?" "Not if what you told me is true." "I won't ever lie to you. I haven't lied to you in the fifteen years to date and I won't start. My husband is dead. Your wife is also dead. My nearest relative is over six hundred miles away. No one is going to walk in on us. What else is bothering you?" "Why am I here?" "You want the long answer or the short?" "Short." Mia leaned towards me and her eyes widened. I noticed that the blouse she was wearing showed a tiny bit of cleavage. "I decided that if I'm no longer going to be a robot I need someone to play with. I picked you." "I think I may have forgotten how to play. I don't laugh. I don't do anything except work." "That may be true but I know and you know we are both smart. If we decide that what would be good for us was to relearn how to play we can do it." Sitting on her couch what she said seemed to make sense. In the cobwebs of my memory I could recall that I used to know how to play. It was a long time ago. Back when I first met Mary. I looked up at Mia and said, "OK. What do we do first?" "We already handled first. We got out of the office. Now, as for second, what if we start with food?" "Food?" "What do you normally have for dinner?" "I open the freezer, take out a frozen dinner and pop it in the microwave." "Not tonight! Tonight we are going out! What kind of food did you like when you used to have fun?" "I remember loving to go to a Chinese restaurant! I loved Kung Pow Chicken!" "Take your tie off and we'll go. I know a Chinese restaurant near here." My tie went into my jacket pocket and we went to the Hunan Garden in Mia's car. During dinner we both did something that surprised us. We laughed. We drank two pots of Chinese tea with our meal and both used the bathroom before we left to go back to Mia's. Mia didn't invite me in when we got back to her home. It was almost nine o'clock and she said it was time for me to go home and get some sleep. In the awkward moment before I turned to go I wondered what I was expected to do. Should I try to kiss her? Shake hands? A hug? I couldn't decide so I turned and went to my car. As I opened the door I called out, "Thanks. See you in the morning." Mia waved. The next three days we shared lunch at Mia's desk. On the third day, during lunch, I asked Mia if she would go out with me on Saturday. She didn't ask where we would go she just said "Yes." That night I figured out where I wanted to go. At 8:30 I called Mia at home and said, "Mia, would it be OK with you if I picked you up at seven in the morning and we went for a walk in the mountains?" "Seven? How long a walk do you want to go on?" "Until we are done. I don't want to set a time limit. I want to walk with you and have fun." "Oh. In that case I will be sitting on my front porch wearing my old hiking boots at seven. Should I make a lunch for us?" "I can pick something up at the market." "Not a chance. They don't know how to make hiker's lunches. I'll have our lunch when you pick me up." "Are you sure?" She was. When I arrived at her house I was five minutes early. There was a woman sitting on her porch steps. The woman had a baseball cap on and her short red hair showed around the hat. She was wearing a light blue shirt and dark blue shorts with the oldest, raggediest hiking boots I had ever seen. Beside her on the step was a battered blue day pack. When Mia saw my car she smiled and stood up. I Turned Sixty-One This Year The shorts were very short and Mia had legs! Not just the functional units that provide locomotion for a human being but legs! Legs that start at cute ankles and soar towards the heaven found between thighs that point towards it. Her light blue shirt was not buttoned and showed that beneath it Mia was wearing a jog bra, a white jog bra. Her pale belly was flat and bare. Mia opened to door to the car and was in and ready to go in three seconds. I shifted from Drive to Reverse and started to back out of her driveway when she asked me to stop. I did. Mia leaned over and kissed me on the lips. The kiss was quick and friendly. It was followed by a smile and a "Good Morning!" I froze. A few seconds later Mia smiled again and asked, "Are we going on this hike or are we going to get a room?" The smile never faltered. I put the car in Reverse and we were on our way. Five minutes later I wondered, Was she serious? Did she seriously offer me what I think she offered me? I looked over at her and she burst out laughing. "What's the laughter about?" "It just hit you what you turned down back there!" "You weren't serious!" "You'll never know!" The laughter continued. A few minutes later I parked the car at a trail head that almost no one knew about. It was a trail that led off into the Santa Monica Mountains and finally ended at the edge of a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. There was a park bench at the overlook the last time I had been there. That had been eleven years ago. I used to hike out to the bench to think. Now I was taking Mia there. Being a gentleman I offered to carry the pack on the way out if Mia would carry it back. She agreed. As I put it on I decided that I'd carry it both ways. I motioned to the trail and Mia took the lead. She set a good pace and we were off. After twenty minutes I was very aware of two things: that I was way out of shape and that Mia had a great looking ass. We both needed a few rest stops along the way and when we did arrive at the bench we plopped down with no ceremony or pretense of anything except needing to rest. We drank from the water bottles that Mia had in the pack. We sat looking out over the ocean and letting our bodies recover. "Nick, It's beautiful here." "Worth the hike?" "Yes! I didn't know this place existed." "Hungry?" "Yes! I want to get your reaction to the lunch I made for us." Mia opened the pack and handed me a sandwich bag with one sandwich in it. It was followed by a sandwich for her, a big orange and a fresh bottle of water. The bottle of water was wrapped in foil. When Mia unwrapped it I understood. She had frozen the bottle and the foil helped it to stay frozen as we hiked. Floating in the center was the ten percent that was still frozen. When I opened the sandwich baggie I was treated to one of my favorite smells, peanut butter. At my first bite I knew this woman really understood about hiking and me. The peanut butter was mixed with honey and the honey and peanut mixture had warmed their way into the bread! We ate and talked and enjoyed everything about being alive. I didn't think about being alive, I just was. I looked at the ocean far below us. We watched a sailboat glide by silently and I watched Mia. Well, not watched. I glanced at her as often as I thought would be appropriate. I didn't want her thinking I was thinking dirty thoughts. I was. For the first time in five years I was craving contact, affection, relationship, and sex. Mia excused herself and went away to "water the landscape." When she came back I went in a different direction and watered a bush myself. When I came back Mia was leaning back on the bench with her eyes closed. I stood still and really looked at her. With her head leaned back I looked at her lovely neck. I wanted to kiss it, and was afraid I might be rebuffed. I looked at the way the sunlight played on her skin above and below the jog bra. It looked like such nice skin. I thought about how warm and soft it would feel. I looked at the jog bra. It fit snugly and taughtly across the space between her breasts. Because of the over shirt I could not see much evidence of her breasts, except that they must be about C cups. I stood still wanting to keep looking. My eyes shifted their gaze and looked at the junction of her legs and the bottom edge of her shorts. God, she had nice legs! "Well, have you looked long enough?" She caught me, and without even opening her eyes. "No. Stay still a little longer. I like the view." She sat up, smiled at me and said, "Staying still that long while I knew you were looking at me was tough enough, I'm not up for more. It's uncomfortable." "I'm sorry." I sat and looked out at the ocean. "No, that's not what I mean. No one has looked at me like I'm a person in years. You just did. I'd forgotten how good that feels. I've also forgotten how to deal with those feelings. But, I don't want you to stop looking." "Good. I'm not sure I have the kind or quantity of self control that would require." "That was a compliment! Thank you!" "I have recently discovered that I am not dead and that I like looking at you. I like how I feel when I am with you. I like how I feel when I look at you." "I like being with you, too. I am starting to wonder when you're going to kiss me." "I haven't wanted to go too fast. I'm enjoying this so much that I'm a little afraid I'm going to screw it up." "You won't screw it up. If you don't at least try to kiss me I'm going to think you don't want to. Is that it? You don't want to?" "Don't move!" I bent to her and kissed her lips. I put my knee on the bench and touched my lips to hers. The reaction was swift. Her lips opened and a gentle suction drew me in. Something about a spider and a fly flashed through my brain. I didn't care, I entered willingly. My left hand found her shoulder in the second kiss. In the third kiss she moved my hand to her breast. The nipple was hard and the breast felt warm and wonderful in my hand. When that kiss ended I pulled back a little. "I am having trouble being this alive." "OK, just don't die. You can be uncomfortable. I am. I haven't kissed anyone since Mr. Archer died. You don't kiss like him." "Would you please stand?" Her answer was in movement. She stood and faced me. I took her in my arms and kissed her again. Both hands were on her back and I applied just enough pressure to hold her chest against mine. I felt the stirrings in my shorts that meant I was not so old that nothing would cause a reaction. It felt wonderful. I pressed myself against Mia. As we broke for air Mia said, "That's three compliments in less than an hour. Thank you." "Three?" "You liked looking. You wanted to kiss me, and you are hard. Those are three very nice compliments. Thank you." "Please, may I have some more?" "Oh, and he quotes from movies too." Her mouth found mine and her hands found my ass and pressed me against her. When the kiss ended I was no longer thinking. I kissed along her jaw to her ear lobe and then onto her neck. She tilted her head, giving me even more access to her neck. I took full advantage. I love kissing her neck. She smelled of sweat, of peanut butter, honey, and something else. When I cupped her breasts she stopped me, but not immediately. "How likely is it that we may be interrupted?" "I honestly have no idea. I haven't been here in eleven years. I wasn't even sure the bench would still be here." "In that case I want us not to do what we were about to do, now. I recommend we go somewhere that the possibility of being interrupted is zero." Mia was smiling at me with a smile that at once looked like a mischievous little girl and a wanton woman of intent. She was holding my hands an inch from her breasts. For one of the first times in years my body was speaking to me and the conversation was more than a little urgent. "Do you have a zero interruption location in mind?" I was smiling too. "As they say in the movies: your place or mine?" "I have a better idea. There is a nice motel back near where we are parked. Then we don't even have to make the bed when we leave." Mia kept a hold of one of my hands and we started the trek back to the car. It took longer going back because we kept stopping to act like teenagers. At a set of switchbacks I kissed her at every turn. Once or twice she squeezed my hardness while we kissed. When we were within sight of the car I noticed that my face hurt a little from all the smiling I was doing. The motel is about two miles south of the trail head. The cars all park out of sight of the cars driving by and all the rooms have a window that looks out over the ocean. I rented a room at the far end of the building. When I got back in the car Mia again had a strange look on her face. I put the car in gear and slowly pulled to our room. "I feel like a kid," Mia said. "Me too. I'm afraid our parents will catch us." We laughed all the way into the room. The instant the door closed we stopped laughing and looked at each other. "What are we doing?" I asked. "We are learning how to play again. I haven't felt this alive and excited in years. I like how I feel." She took my hands in hers and pulled me close. "How are you doing?" "I'm terrified. I thought this part of my life was over. Now I'm here with you and don't want to disappoint you." "Take a deep breath. I'm not here for a performance. I'm here to touch, kiss, play and enjoy being with you. If that includes fucking, great. If it doesn't, great. Sometimes men are such boys!" "OK, but it's been a long time since I've been in a motel room." "Like I've done it a lot?" "No. No. That's not what I meant. When I'm nervous I put my foot in my mouth a lot. Please forgive me." "I have something I'd rather you put in your mouth and I think you'll like the taste better than your foot." Off came her over shirt and then the jog bra. Whatever thoughts I had about her breasts were gone. Reality had arrived. They were white and her areola were pale and about the size of silver dollars. Centered in her areola were blueberry sized nipples. Looking at my face Mia used both hands and offered me her breasts. "I know they aren't Playboy quality, but they're real." I took her in my arms and kissed her. My hands accepted her gift and I felt her nipples tighten as I held them. I took us to the bed and had Mia sit at the edge. I went to my knees and was face to tit with her. Using visual clues and Mia's help I was able to capture one nipple with my mouth on the first attempt. "Oh, that feels so good." I was thinking the same thing. I rolled her nipple around and sucked gently. Her hands wrapped around my head and seemed to be forcing more and more of her tit into my mouth. "Oh please, suck harder." She whispered. I did. I sucked and kissed both breasts and helped her undress completely. Her tiny shorts were wet when I pulled them off. She made some joke about her being naked while I was still dressed. We cured my condition rather quickly. I joined her on the bed and we cuddled for a long time. My fingers and hands became familiar with most of her skin and she explored mine as well. There was no hurry in our exploration. At some point I got out of bed and turned the heat up in the room. I didn't want to cover us and I didn't want Mia to feel cold either. Mia found a scar on my lower belly and traced it with her fingers. Her touch was so soft that it almost tickled. "How'd you get this?" Mia asked. "Years ago I made a mistake that got me into a fight. The man had a knife and I think his intent was to cut off a certain part of me." "Thank God he wasn't very good with his knife." She took my penis in hand and stroked me. As I responded she shifted on the bed and took me in her mouth. I remembered how much I loved oral sex. I also remembered that Mary hated it. She thought that any sex that wasn't procreative was sinful. Her mother had been an effective teacher. Mia sucked my growing cock and when she grasped my balls all thoughts of the past disappeared. Mia was kneeling on the bed and I could reach her ass and pussy while she teased and pleased my cock. I massaged the cheeks of her ass and then carefully slid my fingers across the exposed swollen lips of her vulva. When I touched her lips she moaned and moved up and down on my cock with more enthusiasm. I took that as encouragement and parted her lips with my fingers and probed her wet slit. Somewhere deep in my memory was a memory of what it felt like when my body decided that I was on the road to blowing a nut. That memory recognized the feelings I was having, stimulated by Mia's ministry of joy. As my balls got ready Mia noticed and her mouth stopped the sermon of joy. I sat up and looked at her. She pulled her mouth all the way off my cock and asked, "If you cum in my mouth can you rise again and cum in my pussy?" "I have no way of knowing the answer." "Then I choose you cumming in my pussy. No one has been in there in years and I want you to hose out all the cobwebs!" In seconds Mia was on her back with her legs open in invitation. I hand stroked myself a few times as I shifted positions and touched the head of my cock to her slippery opening. As slowly as I could, I entered her. I wanted to savor this, as I wasn't sure it would ever happen again. Mia's legs were open and held in place by my arms and shoulders. I watched as my hardness slid into her. Watching made it even more erotic. I could see me disappearing into her and I could feel her holding me in wetness. A stray thought passed through my mind: "If this isn't allowed in Heaven, I don't want to go." All the way in, I raised my head a fraction and looked into Mia's eyes. There were tears filling her eyes. There was also a smile on her face. Her hands grabbed my arms and held on. "Oh Honey, I had forgotten how good it feels to be filled like this." "I had stopped believing this would ever happen again." The muscles in my legs started to protest so I moved back. I was pulling back so I could go back in again but my body and Mia's didn't want me to pull back. The walls inside her tightened up and her hands tightened their grip on my arms too. "Come back in deep." She said. Her voice was deeper than before. Soft and low and sexy. I went back in deep. Mia closed her eyes, tilted her head back and moaned. I wanted to stay still in her, buried deep in her, feeling her pulse and her breathing and watching her face. I couldn't. Some primitive biological mechanism took over control of my hips and cock. In and out, slow and fast, gentle and almost violently we joined. Sweat dripped from me onto Mia. She watched me, smiling, every second. I watched her and smiled too. I felt myself losing what little control I lied to myself about having. My balls did their job and I felt the rush of fluids as they exploded out of me and into Mia. Pulse after pulse. And I was done. I held my cock deep inside Mia for a long time. I shrank and I felt juices leaking out of us. My arms began to shake in exhaustion. I allowed myself to fall to my side, beside Mia. I closed my eyes and felt myself slipping into sleep. Mia leaned to me and kissed me. "Tonight is the first night of the rest of our lives, together." She kissed me again. As I drifted further into sleep I prayed she was right.