Thank you to "LadyCibelle" and "Techsan" for the editing of my stories they make them a much better read.
Chapter 1: A older man reflects back.
It's hell getting old. Not as much getting old as losing your friends and loved ones. My wife passed away last year of the dreaded cancer. I'm a little mad at God for that. I went up to the alter many years ago and told God that I would do my best to live a good Christian life if he would do me one favor. I wanted to die before any of my kids or my wife. I later went back to the alter and included the grandchildren. I just didn't want to be one of those people who would have to bury their loved ones. I didn't feel I was strong enough for that.
I'm only sixty-one and Mary would have been sixty this year if God would have honored my prayer. Now I am alone in a house that my wife completely fixed up the way she wanted it. I don't know about staying here now, with so many memories. That's another thing about being retired. The use of your time. My wife always had chores for me to do. I would get up and gripe and groan everyday. Now I would gladly do those little things for her, if only she was here.
I decided to take up writing stories. For a lonely old guy it takes up time and is a great way to reminisce. That's what I thought I would write about. I might get off track a few times but I want to write what's in my head while I can still remember it. So if you are reading my story please bear that in mind.
I was born in the big city some sixty plus years ago. To some people they think that was a long time ago. I remember of a lot of my past as though it was yesterday. The youngsters think I am ancient. They ask me questions about the Roman Empire and if I knew Abraham Lincoln. Kind of funny when you think about it. I think if I had to do it all over again I would have studied a hell of a lot harder. I would try harder to remember history and chemistry. The two subjects I wasn't worth a shit in but are the two that everyone seems to ask questions about.
Wow, I better jump ahead a few years or this story will go on for ever and it's supposed to have a little sex in it. If it's about my life I can guarantee that there will be very little sex. That was a joke readers, us old guys like to throw shit like that in their writing. My sex life actually was pretty good. I dated a lot in school and played kissy, kissy with about any girl that wanted to. I dated and got a few feels but no real action till my senior year.
That's when I met Paula, my real first love interest. As I mentioned I did have a reputation for flirting but the real action began with Paula. For my graduation present she gave me her cherry. You have to understand back then that was a really big thing. I wish it were true today too, with all my grandchildren and all. I hope they wait till they find their true love.
Paula and I went on a secret date. I had to meet her on the corner because her parents hated me. I don't know why but maybe they knew my ulterior motive. I wanted in her pants. Hell, I wanted in anyone's pants. Other than masturbation my love life consisted of feeling some nice boobies and rubbing a few snatches through their jeans.
I guess I could add a little voyeurism into the mix. Damn, I liked looking at women. I wanted to see the real thing. I got tired of reading National Geographic or Health and Medical magazines. Besides about every picture in the health magazine had some kind of disease, which kind of grossed me out.
I got my chance. Paula and I got in the back seat of my car and we expressed our dying love for each other. I should say if I'm being honest here that it was her dying love for me and me dying to get in her panties. I remember it like it happened yesterday. In fact I'll probably get a hard on thinking about it right now. I don't give a shit what a lot of people say. A lot of men do not, I'll repeat that, do not need Viagra or any other enhancing pill. I'm very capable of getting a hard-on my own even though I would prefer a little help from a nice lady.
Paula and I got into the back seat and started kissing and hugging. I reached up and went to first base. She didn't stop me as I lowered my hand onto her jean-covered thigh and squeezed it. I put my hand on her belt and started to unfasten it. Then I unbuttoned the top button of her jeans and slowly slid the zipper down. When I glanced down I saw her pink panties. I was as hard as a rock. I was hoping I would be able to last for awhile. My first time and I wanted it badly. I pulled my hand up above her soft belly and started it downward behind her panties.
She grabbed my wrist and said, "Eddie, I know how bad you want it. I want it just as much as you and I'm going to give myself to you tonight. I want you to know a couple of things. I'm still a virgin and I'm nervous as hell and scared. I know you like me but I also know you like a lot of girls. I'm doing this because I love you, Eddie. I need you to know this. I want my first time to be with you. I wish we could be together forever until death do us part but only time will tell."
After she said that I realized what a truly wonderful caring person she was. Did I love her? Hell, I didn't know. I was an eighteen year old boy in heat, about to get his first piece of ass. Love, infatuation, hormones, call it what you want but at that given moment I loved her and would always remember her as my first love.
I can't explain how wonderful it felt. I did it, I had sex, I made love with someone I truly liked and I know liked me. I'm writing about her because there will always be a place in my heart for her. That was the only time we made love together.
I went off to college the following week. I tried to contact her before I left but her parents wouldn't let her talk to me. I really felt bad but it was time for me to continue on my life's adventures. College life for me was probably the same as for most guys. A little bit of studying and a lot of partying. I had sex with many girls during college. I did remember to practice safe sex thanks to my dad who hounded me about abstaining but if I was unable to control my hormones then at least practice safe sex.
I came home for one of the holidays and headed over to see Paula. They had moved and none of my friends knew where. We had gone to different schools so we had different friends. She lived down the street from one of my cousins. I got to know her and whenever I visited my cousins and I would go over and see her. We became pretty good friends. I asked my cousin about her moving but he didn't have a clue where they moved to. He told me if he ever found out he would let me know. I really felt a sorrow falling over me. I guess I cared for her more than I realized. I suppose you can see that because here it is forty-one years later and I'm telling you about it. Life goes on.
I met my wife Mary while visiting one of my sisters. I had two sisters and two brothers. We were a pretty good size family. Well, back to how I met Mary. I had a habit of just walking in the my sisters home, never thinking about knocking or ringing a doorbell. I stopped by my sister's and there was this girl. Hell, she wasn't a girl. She was a woman baby setting for my sister. Mary let out a little scream when I walked into the house. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry. Gina's my sister. You must be Eddie."
"Yep, in the flesh. And you are?"
"Mary. I watch your sister's kids once in awhile. Glad to meet you."
Damn, this gal looked sweet. Short, big busted and a nice looking butt. At least it looked nice through her jeans. I got to talking with her and her family was larger than mine. She had four brothers and two sisters. She was somewhere in the middle, having some older and some younger. I was the youngest of our clan.
She was so sweet to talk to, I wanted to get to know her better. I asked her if she wanted to go out to a movie or something? She said sure and we made a date for that evening. We went to the drive-in. I like drive-ins - cheap and lots of privacy for making out. We did a lot of huggy kissy stuff but she wouldn't let me get to first base - touching her boobs.
I'm sitting here writing this story and remembering that's the same way she was her last eight years of life. Ever time I would touch her boob she would tell me to quit it. What kind of sex pervert was I turning into? I loved her right till the end, I really did. Our sex life sucked because it was almost non existent but that didn't stop me from loving her. I started sleeping in another bedroom. She wasn't big on cuddling any more. She said my body was always too hot. Thinking back when we were first married she loved my hot body, always putting those cold feet against me.
I'm not positive what made her change. Maybe the sickness, maybe she got tired of me. We would always argue about it. We did do it a few times but she said she didn't get much out of it. She kept telling me it wasn't me that it was her. She even said it hurt to do it a couple of times. Once she told me she didn't really feel anything. That is about as turned off as I could get after that.
I know once she found out about the cancer it was her sickness or some of the medication she was taking. I could understand it then. I loved her but couldn't make love to her. One pill was for her nerves. I figured it cut off her feelings.
Maybe I'm skipping too much here. After our date at the drive-in I asked her out whenever I was home from college. In my second year of college she got pregnant. I listened to my dad when I was at college but didn't follow his advice with Mary. We got married and had our first of three kids. I switched over to going to school part-time because then I had a family to raise. We found a little apartment that was just right for the three of us. Whenever I was home, not working or at school I was making love to Mary. She was so sweet, soft and cuddly. I loved doing things to her.
I remember the first time I dropped down to kiss her pussy. "What are you doing, Eddie, that's dirty, my pussy is dirty. Eddie, you shouldn't be doing that. You really shouldn't."
"Do you like it?"
"Does it feel good and make you want to cum."
"You're my wife, I like eating out your pussy, you like me doing it. Do you want me to stop making you feel good?"
"No, God, Eddie, it feels so good, please don't stop." She grabbed my head and pulled it into her vagina till she climaxed and let out a yell.
I felt her pussy let out spasm after spasm. I pulled back and was going to climb on but she asked me to wait a few minutes because the nerves in her pussy were too sensitive at the moment. So I crawled up and gently caressed and sucked on her breasts.
There was one time I asked her to give me a blow job. We were in a sixty-nine position with her on top. She straddled my face and I tongued her as best as I could from that position. She was holding my dick and was kissing it when she started crying. I asked her what was wrong and she told me she couldn't do it. She wanted to and she tried but she just couldn't do it. I told her that was alright. The last thing I wanted was for her to force herself to do something she didn't feel comfortable with. When you love someone it was supposed to be enjoyable.
She made it up to me in other ways. She would make love to me in most any position. She would always stay with me till I came. She let me take her in just about every way possible. We tried anal twice but neither one of us liked it. She said it hurt her and it squeezed my dick so hard I was almost in pain. So we pretty much made love in the more standard positions. I have no complaints about her love making in our early years.
Eventually we had child number two and number three. Two boys and a girl. The girl being the youngest. We had a great life and did everything families do together. That's when I made the biggest mistake of my life. I had an affair. It went on for about three months. After the newness of the affair wore off I wanted out. I wasn't exactly sure how to end it when Mary caught me in a lie. I was a stupid fucking fool.
Mary screamed and yelled and cried. It was the lowest point in my life. I really considered taking my own life. I really loved Mary. I just did something really, really stupid. Because Mary was a compassionate caring woman she kept me. I don't know if she did it because she loved me or for the kids sake. To this day I really don't know for sure. All I knew is that I hurt her deeply. So deeply that life between us was never the same after that. This might be hard for most readers to understand but my infidelity hurt me probably as much as it hurt Mary. I know that a part of me was now dead to Mary. The caring, trusting, forgiving and loving part of our marriage had changed. I don't think she ever forgave me. I know to her dying day I never heard her say it.
About a month after the affair things went pretty much back to normal. We did the school things with the kids. We took them on trips whenever we could afford to. Over all, our family life was good. Our sex life on the other hand had diminished. We still did it but a lot of Mary's emotion was gone. God, how I missed it. She still climaxed and always waited for me. I few times after a party or wedding she would drink a little too much and she acted more like old times. I think I lost her trust. She didn't seem like she would completely let go anymore.
I know during our arguments, of which we had many over the years, she would always bring up trust. I tried to explain to her that I couldn't change the past. I wish I could but I can't. During a couple of arguments I asked her if she wanted me to leave? All she would say is, "Leave if you want to. There is no one holding you back. Go if you want to go." It hurt me. Her not caring really hurt me.
I don't know how many times I thought about leaving. I loved my kids and they loved me. I loved Mary but about the only time she said, "I Love You," was in a birthday or anniversary card. I'll take that back. Whenever I would walk up to her and say, "I love you," she would say, "I love you too." It seems strange now but that is the absolute God's truth.
God how I miss her. I'm sitting here and she keeps coming into my mind and all the little things she did for me. To most people they might say, "Big fucking deal." But all the little things add up, like the way she makes a sandwich. I would ask her why hers taste so good when I used the exact same ingredients. She always said she put love in her sandwiches. I believe there was truth in that statement. I believe she put love in everything she did and it showed. The way she would clean for me and the kids. Her wash was always the whitest.
There was not a better sound in the world than listening to her laugh with the kids and later the grandkids. Her laugh would lighten up a room. We would go to a department or grocery store and I could always find her because she was always laughing. I just followed the laugh and there she was. The only problem was she didn't laugh with me quite as much. Not since that stupid mistake I made.
On our first six anniversaries we received a card. I always blamed her, that's not the right word, I always suspected she sent it to us, because she hated mailing cards. She told me she knew I sent it. The cards were never signed with a signature. The first year it said YGMF. The next five years it only said MFL. After about six years they stopped coming. I figured she thought that went on long enough. Another thing I remember, she was a great cook! She could bake, broil, fry or grill. It was all good. They always called the guys the grillers but in our house she did it or at least got it all ready so I wouldn't mess it up.
It's odd how through the years we seemed to grow apart in some areas closer in others. Our love life is where we grew apart but in everything else we seemed closer. Even watching TV programs together. It's kind of a weird feeling now. When I sit on my old chair and watch a program that we used to watch together it's as though she is sitting there on the couch in her usual place watching it with me.
Boy, this is harder to talk about than I thought. I always wonder about the 'Do Over' or the 'What If?' factor. What if when I went back to see my old girlfriend Paula that day and she was there, how much would my life have changed. Granted everything from that point on would have been different but I often wonder how different. If I wouldn't have cheated on Mary, if I could have a 'Do over, ' would our life be better?
For anyone who is reading this out there and is having an affair or thinking about having one, don't do it or get out of it now. It is not worth the price you pay. If you don't love your spouse then get a divorce or separate for awhile. I'm not trying to be a philosopher here. I'm trying to tell you the truth. Affairs and cheating are way overrated. If you love another or are falling out of love with your partner then talk to them. Sure there will be an argument and lots of yelling and screaming and, yes, even crying. If you wait and get caught, which you will eventually, it's going to happen anyway but the pain will be so much worse.
I remember about three years ago before she knew about the cancer, we went to a wedding. We danced and I even squeezed the cheeks of her butt on the dance floor. She hit me playfully and asked what if someone was watching. She must have had too many screw drivers. She loved the orange juice and was feeling it pretty good. It was the old Mary back. I took it slow and easy, hoping she was back for good. The Mary I married, the Mary that I made love to so many times. The Mary I loved so deeply. We danced, kissed and hugged just like old times. I think I had tears in my eyes, my old Mary was back, at least for the one night.
As we entered the house I helped her off with her clothes. We may have been in our fifties but I felt like twenty-five again. I went to her bed that night. I kissed and hugged her. As I lay next to her I gently massaged her breasts. They weren't firm like when we got married but they were soft and smooth. Mary always had the smoothest skin. I don't think she ever had a pimple. I leaned over and took a nipple in my mouth and sucked on it. It's been so long since she let me do it. She hated to have her breasts groped or grabbed but when she was hot she loved the sucking and gentle squeezing of her breasts.
I put my hand down to her tummy and rubbed. I felt her intake of breath as I gently rubbed her little belly. I couldn't believe this was happening after cheating on her fifteen years before. I remember thinking there really was a God. I moved my hand further down over her naked body onto her mound which was now a mixture of brown and lightly gray hair. She shaved around the sides by her legs and trimmed her bush. I ran my hand over and over it, running my finger through her bush. I felt her getting excited and spread her legs as I pushed my fingers deeper into her valley.
I noticed that her eyes were closed and she made sounds but did not talk to me. I believe she wanted it badly and was willing to be her old self this one time. I dropped down to the end of the bed and covered her pussy with my mouth. I felt her hands come down, I thought she was going to push me away but instead she separated the folds of her pussy to give me better access to her and I took advantage of it, burying my face deep within her, darting my tongue out and feeling the moisture within. She was humping my face, just like old times. She let herself go with me and started to orgasm. She let go of her pussy folds and held on to my head. I felt her pussy pulsating as she held me tightly to her.
I climbed between her legs and held them up with the help of my shoulders. I guided my oh so hard member into her waiting pulsating love tunnel. I pushed it in to the hilt as deep and far as humanly possible and ground my pelvis against hers. She was pushing up to meet me. It felt so good just like old times when we first got married. I reached down and caressed her breasts. I wanted it to last an eternity but knew it would only be a few minutes till we both came in huge orgasms at the same time. This was my best in years. After climaxing in her I rolled to the side and put my arm across her mid-section and went to sleep.
When I awoke the next morning she was already up and making coffee. I could see she had already taken a shower. I grabbed some clean clothes and took a shower also.
After the shower, I talked to her to tell her how wonderful it was. She smiled and said she loved it too but she went further than she meant to. I tried to explain to her that I loved her and being with her but I could feel something wasn't quite right. I now feel it was the start of her medical downfall. Somewhere somehow she knew something was happening to her. I believe that's why she gave herself so completely that night. I really do believe that.
Chapter 2: Mary's sickness and starting over.
Life after that night brought us closer. Not sexually but caring and sharing. She wanted to travel a number of places and we usually took the grandchildren with us. When our kids went on vacation we went along in our own car to where the kids were going. Mary wanted to be around family. We all spent our vacations together the last few years. That's when Mary told me she wasn't feeling very well. When we got back home from one of our trips I took her to the doctor and he discovered tumors. I think she knew. In fact I think she knew for awhile.
They took a biopsy and found it to be malignant. They started chemotherapy immediately. I asked if an operation would help and the doctor said they could give it a try but he wasn't very optimistic. I asked Mary what she thought, since it was her that was going through all the pain and getting nauseated from the chemo. She said she didn't want to be cut open unless the doctors could give her enough hope to make it worth all the pain and suffering she would have to endure.
The doctor took the two of us in his office and explained the problem to us. The cancer had spread throughout Mary's system. If they did surgery on her it would probably spread even faster. There really wasn't much hope other than the tumors shrinking from the chemo. Mary chose to go out peacefully. She did the chemo to help with some of the pain and the doctor gave her morphine for the numbing of the pain. I cried over and over again. Mary was the strong one. She kept telling me she was going to a better place where there would be no pain, no hurting and no suffering. She died at home in her bed with me at her side holding her hand.
After the funeral I went into the church and screamed at God. "Why, God? Why Mary? She loved you and now she's dead. You were suppose to take me, not Mary," as I knelt on my knees and cried.
Then I heard an inner voice speaking to me. I jumped up and turned around but I was all alone. Then I knelt down again and heard the voice again.
"Ed, Mary is now in a much better place. She will never suffer again, no more pain. She has total peace. I didn't honor your request because it wasn't for Mary's sake. It was for your own selfishness. You didn't want to go through the pain and suffering of losing a loved one like Mary. You were willing to put Mary though it. If I would have taken you first then Mary would have suffered even more by being alone. She's happy and in total peace now, Ed. Mary is home."
What the hell was that? Did I hear it, think it or dream it? All I know is a calm came over me knowing that Mary was now free from pain. The voice was right. My decision to want to die first was my own selfishness. I got up and walked out of the church.
Life from that day forward was very lonely for me. My kids, God bless them, were there for me. They visited as often as they could. Mary and I raised some great kids. They all married decent caring people. I know they felt the loss of Mary as much as I did. She was their mother and mother-in-law. Mary never complained about the kids' spouses. She always said, "They picked them and they have to live with them.
The women in the family came over and sorted all of Mary's personal things. I told them to take anything they wanted. Mary had made a list of any special items she wanted to give everyone. They took whatever clothes fit them and gave the rest to the Salvation Army. That left me with a house without the feminine items you see in most houses.
After about six months and getting all Mary's affairs in order and the joint stuff like the cars, house and all personal items in my name, I had decided to sell the house. The loneliness of coming home to an empty house each night that we shared was painful to me. I called a realtor in the neighborhood and asked her about pricing and the legal aspects of selling the house. She told me that she could make an appointment to come over and appraise the property and answer any of my questions. I agreed and we made an appointment for the following Wednesday.
I talked to my kids - I call them kids even though they are all grown men and women because I think of them as my kids. Anyway I talked to them about selling the house. It held too many memories and I was always coming home to it and it always saddened me. They all agreed with me and thought I needed a change. They even thought I should date. According to them I was young enough to still enjoy life. I asked them about the time constraints you hear about after a death?
My oldest son said, "Dad, we all know you loved mom. We also know that you are lonely and it hurts all of us to see you this way. You're sixty-one years old. Why would you want to wait to enjoy life. You might not have that many years left yourself." He smiled knowing I would take his last remark with a grain of salt, but there was some truth to it.
I told all my family that I would take the dating under advisement. I also mentioned that someone was coming over to appraise the property. I would have to think exactly where I would want to move to. I would want to stay in the near area to see the kids and grandkids.
On Wednesday a young lady knocked on the door. She said she was from Allen Realtors Inc. She said her name was Betty Huff. I introduced myself as Ed Alford and told her that my wife had passed away almost a year ago and I thought it was time to move on. There were too many memories here. I know I had a tear in my eye while talking to this young lady. She touched my hand and said she was sorry. She had lost her dad going on two years.
Betty looked so familiar. She told me she was thirty-two years old, married - very happily, she added - and that she had two wonderful kids. Her husband was the manager of the local grocery store. I couldn't get over how familiar she looked.