Free at Last

by Mick2016

Tags: Ma/Fa, True Story, Slow,

Desc: : An examination of a recent incident in my life.

I had been living in this town for three years and never had a date. I will get to the why in a bit. When I moved here it was the first time since junior high school that I had not been in a band as either a drummer or a singer. Music was always my hobby, my second gig, my secret identity.

During the first year I found myself looking for a social outlet since there was no music. I tried local jams and open mics, but nothing appealed to me. Then I stumbled upon Monday nights at my favorite bar. Now I am not going to name names or locations because this is true and I do not want to identify myself or embarrass me or my friends, since this is a true story.

When I found Monday night karaoke I was completely blown away. I mean, come on, Monday night? The night started late as well. The host did not kick it off until 10 PM. I asked why so late and he told me the history of the area and for some reason that no one could figure, no one went out before 10 PM. This was proven by the fact that at 10 there might be 5 people signed up to sing and by 11 the place was packed wall to wall.

Anyway, I stumbled upon this place and it was great. I know what you are thinking; karaoke, a mess of no talents with less vocal range doing “Don’t Stop Believing” and not being able to hit the high notes, but not here on Monday nights. I have a pretty good voice, but there were people here that could have made a living off of this, except for a few notable problems.

Well, not problems for me, but for the music world. The woman with the best voice was named Tess and she was considerably overweight. Music wants skinny, girls with voices like 12 yr olds. This woman could out do Adele, Whitney, Aretha or Annie Lennox or any other current pop diva with ease. But since she was round in shape, she would never be heard outside of a karaoke bar.

The guys that I fell in with were equally talented, but all had rather quiet personalities, except the one that was a county sheriff. They were all tenors and hit high notes with power. I hate tenors, they get all of the good songs! Kidding.

So this group of singers formed the core of “The Locals”. We would come in early and put in a list of songs that the host would choose from after reading the room. If it was a dance night he chose our songs that promoted dancing. If it was a somber night he chose love songs of cheating songs.

So I was a “Local” and that meant that everyone knew me. When they called my name those familiar would scream and shout and raise hell, like I did for them. My voice was deeper than all of the others and because of that I gravitated towards blues and Joe Cocker and some of the baritones that sang soul and R & B. Kids today have no idea of the power of Barry White or Teddy Pendergrass on a woman.

The only other problem was that I lived in a very young town. I do not mean that the town was recently formed; I mean that you could not swing a dead cat without hitting a thirty something. I am an older guy and these boys and girls were the same age as my daughter and son! The opportunity to date was just not available unless I wanted to feel like I was dating my daughter. I don’t swing that way.

The young lady that I spoke about earlier was a real sweetheart, but one of my rules of dating has always been that the female needs to be smaller than me. I find no attraction in not being able to get my arms around a woman. Another is that the woman needs to be prettier than me and while Tess was very pretty, she did fall below my line on the first point.

Now go back to the first paragraph and let me explain why I never dated. I married my junior high school sweetheart out of college. We were married for nineteen years when she told me her feeling had changed and she wanted out of the marriage. My feeling had not changed and twenty-two years after the divorce I still thought of her every day and if she had said the word, I would have dropped everything in my life to get back with her.

Therefore dating never made a hell of a lot of sense, because I could see no end to the game. I married another woman a few years after my divorce but it fell apart after one year because she finally figured out that calling my first wife’s name out during sex did not turn her on. So she left me. No pain there for me, at all. There was not a lot of feeling there. I never should have married her.

So I found myself in the midst of almost ten year monogamous relationship with Lefty. Me and Lefty became very close. Very close. We loved each other, with the help of the memory of my first wife. That is until this year.

I took my first vacation since moving here and spent a week in the town I had lived in when I was married. My son and daughter still live there as does the first ex. All of my very close personal friends not named Lefty lived there. Although I grew up on a farm, that town was really what I considered my home.

I had several friends die suddenly between Thanksgiving and Memorial Day and it threw me into a pretty bad depression. It was almost as bad as the two years after my first divorce. I knew how it was going to affect me, so I was smart enough to use my health insurance and I went to see a doctor, a psychologist, actually. He did a great job of opening me up and getting to the bottom of my problem.

I knew that I was still in love with my first wife, but he figured out that the real reason that I could not move on was not because I love the x, but because I was a stinking honorable guy. I had made a vow in front of God and everybody to love, honor and cherish her until death did us part. My moral character, yes I have a strong one, would not let me get past that vow.

He suggested that I get a hold of her and specifically ask her to release me from my vow. The signing of the divorce paper had released me from my legal duty, but not my internal moral duty. This was a great revelation. A huge light bulb lit up in my head and it shone upon a real solution to my problems. I realized that I could still love my ex, but her releasing me from my vow could set me free of my moral obligation and help me to not be IN love with her.

So I planned that on my vacation I would go home and meet her face to face and get past this whole thing. I flew into town on a Tuesday night, headed to the hotel and hit the sack. Early on Wednesday morning I contacted my daughter and asked for her mom’s phone number. She called my ex and asked for permission to give the number to me and my ex said no!

Ok! Did I mention that I had stopped paying attention to her for the last two years of our marriage? I was working so hard in my real, non-band profession trying to give her and the kids the things I thought they wanted, that I forgot the things they needed; like a husband and a father. She was still more than a little miffed at me because when we divorced I just treated her like she did not exist. That was because I loved her and every time I saw her or heard her voice, I found out that a completely broken heart can break some more. She read it as me being an asshole.

I asked my daughter to try again and explained the whole situation to her, asking that she not tell that to her mother. My daughter made the call, told my ex that she really should speak to me and within a few hours, I had my ex’s phone number.

Making that phone call was the hardest thing I had ever done. Yet for some reason, I was pissed when it went straight to voice mail. I left a heartfelt request that she let me take her to lunch or dinner because I really needed to speak with her about something very important. She never called back. She still hasn’t. After calling my daughter and explaining the situation I left it with her if she wanted to divulge the reason for my call to her mom.

That night I felt like the world had been lifted off of my back. I don’t know if it was the fact that I forced myself to actually make the call with the purpose of asking for a face to face verbal release of my feeling; or the fact that she did not return my call which let me know that she really could care less, but I felt free.

At 9 PM I headed out to a local bar where my former band had a gig. They did not know I was coming and when I busted in the door, it was really dramatic, they went nuts. When the fan base saw me, they went nuts and before you know it I was on stage singing with them and we tore the house down. Women were flashing tits and jumping up and down and looking sexy as hell and we rocked the place until close at 3 PM.

The next morning I woke up still feeling good, better than I should have with that hangover thing, and I called some old friends that I had not seen in years and we met for lunch at my favorite BBQ restaurant. The rest of the week was like that. Sit in with various bands that I had been friends with and eat really good food with old friends. No thoughts of the ex, at all.

On Sunday, I hopped on a plane and flew home, arriving at a little past midnight. A cab took me home and I crashed until 9 AM when I got up and showered so I could be to work by 10. Flexible work hours and being on salary are great!

Now I was facing Monday night with more energy that I had in the three years I had lived there. I had a great day doing my job and after dinner I headed out to the bar for karaoke. Everyone noticed the difference in my demeanor. I was ready for a great time!


So, I told you all of that so I could tell you this!

Tess showed up and went to the bar for her usual gin and tonic. She then came over and gave me a hug and went and sat with her girlfriends. She was always surrounded by a good number of girlfriends and couples. One of the girls was a thirty-six year old named Pam. Pam was six feet tall, with soft brown hair and bright eyes. Her breasts were smaller than her proportions and her hips were a little larger as far as I could tell. She always wore a sweatshirt and loose fitting jeans so it was hard to gauge.

She never sang, but was a proud supporter of all or “The Locals”. She had dragged a few boys to the bar to show them her idea of a good time but never brought the same guy twice. That was the case with most of the girls in that pack, it always seemed like it was a one and done.

“Hi Pam. I figured that you would have a hot date tonight.”

“Nope. I think I’m done with guys. I’m thinking about batting for the other team.”

“Why?”

“I am just tired of the guys just wanting to get in my pants. No one just wants to hold me and make me feel like they want me for me and not my pussy. At this age I am thinking that if I don’t switch side, that I could be alone for the rest of my life.”

I laughed. She punched me.

“Ouch! Pam there are a lot of smart guys out there that will figure you out. Life is long. You have no idea how long. Look at me.”

“I look at you and I see a man with no one to be with him. Please show me proof that what is happening to you won’t happen to me.”

“Pam, you are a very pretty girl. You are smart and witty and any guy with an entire brain and 20-20 vision will see that.”

“I see any way that my life is moving in that direction. Getting with girls might really be the way to go.”

“Do you think for a moment that if you come out that other women won’t try to get into your pants?”

After a quiet bit if thought she looked at me and sighed.

“I had not thought of that.”

We were sitting and talking when a very tall guy came up and asked her to dance. She looked at me. I shrugged my shoulders and nodded as she got up and went to dance. After the dance she smiled and returned to me. We spoke some more and after the next song another very tall guy came up to us.

“Since you danced with my friend, will you dance with me?”

“Sure. Ok.”

Pam got up and walked to the center of the floor and danced. She did not dance like so many other girls. She never turned her back on the guy so she could rub her ass against his crotch. She did not open her legs and hump the guys thigh.

This activity repeated several times during the night until, after a dance she did not return to our spot, opting to go to the bar and talk with the two tall guys. Near the end of the night, Pam smiled at me as she left with the two tall guys. I thought, “Good for her”, and silently wished her a safe and enjoyable night.

When the bar shut down, I made my rounds to the host and the bartenders and the regulars before heading out the door. After saying good night to the bouncers, I turned to head to my car and there stood a very upset Pam.

“Where are your guys?”

“Those pricks! Ok, we talked, they were nice. They were sexy and I was thinking about a good time with the cute one. Then we got down the block and I realized that we were not going to a car. They wanted to take me to a hotel and they wanted me to double team them. They actually told me they want to take turns fucking me in the ass and pussy and mouth and that they wanted me to take them both in the ass at the same time. I could not believe it.”

“So they just wanted to get in your pants?”

“Ok, yes. I had that feeling when we talked, but they were so tall and I didn’t have to look down at them and they were so nice.”

“But you didn’t want them in your pants.”

“Well that was not the thing that pissed me off. They asked me how much I would charge them to do all of the things they wanted. How much money! They thought I was a fucking hooker!”

“Wait. You were not pissed that they wanted to poke you in every hole singularly and at the same time, but that was ok. You didn’t get pissed until they thought you were a working girl!”

“Dammit! I am not a hooker. How dare they!”

Now I was worried. I had never seen her this upset. She was on the verge of tears. “Pam, my brain is about to explode. First, you are a sweetheart and I don’t see you sending out signs that you are a big sexual creature at all. Second, you are wearing your standard sweatshirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. Not exactly the little black dress with fuck-me heels. Third, you wear little or no make-up. While you’re pretty without make-up, you don’t put it on with a spatula, like I would guess that one of them does. I have no idea how anyone could look at you and think “Hooker”. I’m stunned.”

In the process of her telling me all of this and me responding to her, she moved close to me, giving me the body language that she needed to be held. Since I still speak fluent body language, I took her in my arms and held her in a friendly way.

“My ride left. Could you give me a ride home?” She sniffled a little bit.

“I’m a little low on gas. Where do you live?”

She told me and it was not going to be a burden to do her this favor.

“Sure, I can do that without running out.”

I proceeded to quickly clean out the front passenger side of my car. (A co-worker of mine once commented that she thought that I drove my purse because of the type and amount of clutter in the front.) Once I deemed it suitable for her butt, I moved to allow her to enter and after closing the door, I walked around the front to the driver side.

After starting the car I looked at her, “I know the general area, but you will need to give me directions.”


As I pulled out she gave me orders well in advance and between turn and lane change orders.

“So I guess that you are really worried about being alone. I mean you never struck me as the kinky kind that would take multiple guys to bed. Is it really that bad?”

“Is it bad for you? I mean I never see you with a woman. How do you deal with being alone?”

“I don’t have any options. I just do it. I mean if you never noticed there are not a lot of mature women hanging out at the bar.”

“But there are some really nice women there. I know of at least one that would go home with you if you asked and I suspect there are more.”

“I have been married and divorced twice and don’t need to go back there. I used to feel that the pain of a relationship breaking up is worse than being alone.”

“So you go through life thinking that every woman you find attractive is just a heart break waiting to bust out on you. That would make me feel worse than being lonely.”

“Well there is a difference. I mean I dress well and I don’t have women throwing themselves at me. Also, no one has ever waited for me at my car with the idea of me taking them somewhere to fuck.”

“Is that what you think I am doing?” She was getting angry again.

“NO! Look. Ford, and Pepsi and Budweiser and all of those big companies spend billions of dollars each year getting people to notice what they have got to sell. I did not mean to get you mad, but you don’t advertise. You don’t come to the bar dressed like man bait.”

“I just want to be comfortable. And maybe I’m thinking that a guy that approaches me like this is looking for something other than a hot babe.”

“You don’t dress like this at work, do you?”

“No. At work I dress nice. I wear nice slacks and blouses or dresses. But the single guys there don’t ask me out either.”

“Is that because they do not want to date co-workers?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that they never even look at me.”

“Strange. If I was thirty years younger I would not only spend a lot of time looking at you, I would chase you all over this city until I caught you.”

“What?”

“Pam. You are a beautiful girl.”

“I am not a girl. I am a woman.”

“Sorry. I tend to think of anyone more than fifteen years younger than me as being a girl.”

“How old are you?”

BOOM! There was an interesting question. No one in all of the times I had been at that bar had asked my age. The door guys didn’t card me. I had never been crazy about announcing my own birthday for free shots. No one knew how old I was. Well let’s see where this leads.

“Pam, I am sixty-five years old.”

“I call bullshit! There is no way that you are older than my dad.”

“Do you want me to pull over and show you my driver’s license?”

“No. Seriously? Sixty-five?” “Yup.”

“Well I would have never guessed.”

“So now you feel creepy because you are getting a ride from a dirty old man.”

“No. I never thought of you as old.”

“Oh thanks! I’m dirty and creepy but not old! Wonderful!”

“You know what I mean.” She seemed upset that she had insulted me.

“I do. I do. Now you know why I don’t date. The few women I’ve met, that are my age, are either bigger than me, uglier than me, or are married to small yappy dogs. Or ... they are young enough to be my daughter and THAT feels creepy.”

“I never thought of that. There are not many women that go to bars at that age. You must me lonely all the time.”

“Well except for Monday nights when I get to hang around with y’all. I mean, Monday nights are a real bright spot.”

She gave me orders to turn ahead and stop in front of the duplex she pointed out.

“Pull up there.”

I did as ordered.

“There you go my dear. I will wait until you have gone inside to be sure you are safe.”

“No. I want you to come in with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I like you and you are lonely and I am lonely and I want you to come in and spend some time with me.”

I thought about it for a few minutes. The burden of my ex was gone. I had nothing else to do. Besides what girl in her right mind would put moves on a senior citizen.

“Ok. I can come in for a bit. I don’t know what I am doing but ok.”

I got out of the car and moved around to the passenger side. Pam sat there waiting for me. Most girls of her generation would have just gotten out. I opened the door and offered my hand to help her out. She took it, exited the car and raised up to her full six foot height. I hit the auto door lock and closed the door. We walked next to each other to the door where she produced her key and unlocked it and pushed it open. She reached in to the side of the wall and hit the switch for the lights. We entered and she took off her coat.

“You can hang your coat on the hook next to mine. I will be right back.”

I took off my coat and hung it as she said, and watched her go down a hallway.

“You can sit on the couch or in the love seat recliner.” She called from a room down the hall.

I sat in the love seat, since it was closest to the door and relaxed. It was a firm seat that did not sink down very far. I crossed my leg and waited for only a few minutes before I heard a voice behind me.

“Would you like something to drink? I have beer and wine and iced tea.”

“No thanks, I don’t think I will be staying that long.”

“How do you know?” She called from the kitchen. “You might enjoy my company.”

“Pam, I have always enjoyed your company.”

I heard footsteps behind me and to one side. As I turned my head in the direction of the sound, Pam came around the couch wearing a long t-shirt and bunny slippers.

“Can I sit next to you?”

“It is your house. Why ask me?”

“I don’t know. You might be nervous sitting here with me, like this.”

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / True Story / Slow /