Oh Shit! I'm going to be late again. This was my thought as I rounded the last corner leading to my apartment building. It was 3:25 and my wife Helen, had told me to be home by no later than 3:00.
Her sister Tammy and her husband were joining us for our traditional Thanksgiving dinner and they were bringing Helen's nearly 90 year old mother with them. Our daughter, Megan and her husband Nick were coming as well, and they were bringing my grandson Bobby too.
I had glanced at the contents of the thick manila envelope next to me. I had paid out nearly $6,000 dollars over the past month for basically nothing. Every picture, showed nothing. All of the incident reports said nothing. But my gut told me that there was something going on. Call it psychic powers, call it a male intuition call it kismet, but something about my wife and my marriage was not right.
I'm Hiram Walker, my mom named me after some old guy who had given her a job before she got married, and she'd promised to name her first son after him. I'm 54 years old but I keep my self in very good shape. I'm a doctor, with a small family private practice, but I do hours at a local hospital in town as well.
Maybe that was part of the problem with my marriage, the number of hours that I work can't be great for my relationship, but in my business, it is very important that I be accessible to my patients. There was also the case that I love what I do, I just like helping people, and making them feel better when they're sick or injured.
My wife Helen is a different animal. We met and fell in love almost 25 years ago. I was working at the clinic that eventually became my private practice. She was a real estate agent and helped me secure the financing I needed, to buy the building that housed the clinic. She was a few years older than I was, but she was quite the stunner then.
Of course after we married, she kind of let her self go but I love her far more today than I ever could have back then. Our shared history, and all of the years we've spent together have linked me closer to her than I was to my own mother, but lately something is not right.
Why should I care you ask. Helen will be sixty in a few weeks. Her once proud breasts now sit low on her stomach where they once thrust outwards and upwards and caught the eye of every man who passed. Her ass is now wider than the seat in my Mustang which made it extremely unlikely for her to ever ride in the car with me. I guess there's the fact that like I said before, I love her. And I love her a little bit more each day. There is nothing I wouldn't do for Helen.
It's kind of like being a pro Baseball player. You can have any glove you want. There are tons of companies offering you money to use their gloves, but you still love the glove that you've used since you first started playing the game. Every other glove you try may be newer, or have new features, but they're just no your glove. Helen was my glove.
As I drove down the ramp leading to my buildings under ground parking garage, the sound of the Mustang's potent supercharged V8 growl made me feel a little better. No matter where I was or what I was doing, that sound just resonated through my soul, reminding me of happier times.
It took me back before oil embargoes and $3:00 gas prices, back when I had no concerns and no problems.
As I got out of the car and hit the alarm button on my key fob, I saw Kelly Cullum, she was getting out of her car as well. Kelly worked in the same hospital I did as a Pharmacy technician. As a matter of fact I'd recommended her for the job and helped her out with some of her classes in college. She ran to catch up with me and I stopped and waited for her.
"Hi Hi," she smiled; it was our own inside joke. Kelly was the only person who called me Hi, her version of a nickname for Hiram.
"So, what do you think?" she asked waiting for my opinion on something.
"I'm sorry Kelly," I said. "I'm not sure what you're asking about."
"My Mustang," she said looking hurt.
"I mean it's not a Shelby GT 500, but it's the exact same color as yours," she said. "I've even got the same rims, and the same interior," she said smiling again.
"That's great Kelly," I said mustering more enthusiasm than I really felt. I wondered why Kelly at 32 was still trying to impress me, as if she was still just that 18 year old girl who'd moved into the building so many years ago.
"What's got you so down that you don't want to talk Mustangs?" she asked looking suspiciously at me. I didn't say anything I just screwed up my lips and pushed the elevator button for her floor and then mine.
"Hiram, is anything going on with you that I should know about?" she asked.
"No Kelly, everything's fine, maybe it's just old age catching up to me," I said. Kelly started laughing, as I said it.
"You're not old yet," she said. "In fact you're just about perfect. If there's anything you need, or if you just need someone to talk to, I'm always here for you," she said as she got off of the elevator and left me alone with my thoughts.
Our apartment occupied the entire south side of the building on the top floor. Since it had originally been more than one apartment, that we had combined, we have more than one entrance. I really didn't want to go in the front way and face Helen and the family and lots of questions about where I'd been and why I was late.
I figured I'd sneak in the back way, near the kitchen, and ease into the celebration. I really thought that Helen and everyone else would already be seated at the table eating. But I guess all of our years together had taught Helen a few things about me. It turns out that she had told me to be home an hour before she told everyone else. So even though I was a half hour late, I was actually early. I eased the door open, I wasn't trying to spy on anyone, I swear I was just trying to sneak into my own home, when I saw them.
My brother in law Ted came walking into my kitchen like he owned it. He grabbed a handful of Helen's ass, like he owned it as well. Helen had turned around like a scalded cat, ready to slap him until she saw who it was. Then she turned back to whatever she was doing. Ted wrapped his arms around her caressing her breasts and pushing his crotch into her ass, and I watched as my wife leaned back against him. I took out my iPhone and recorded a few seconds of video, and snapped off a few pictures, then turned and went back the other way. I went in the front door and after saying hello, to all of our gathered friends and family, went into my study, to think.
My name is Helen Walker, I made a terrible mistake, it cost me my happiness, my marriage, and the love of a man that would have loved me forever.
A few months ago, we were having a family get together, and my sister's husband Ted, who is a really nice guy, was working with me in the kitchen. My husband Hiram, whom I love completely, was outside manning the grill on our balcony. My sister, Tammy was lying down on the bed in our guest room because she had a headache. Tammy always seems to have a headache. I think a lot of them are because she's lazy and just doesn't want to do any work.
As Ted and I chopped the onions and made the sauce, we were in very close quarters and his hand accidentally rubbed across my ass as he reached for a bowl.
It had been a long time since anyone had even thought about copping a feel on me, but in my younger days I had to really struggle to keep guys away from me.
"Sorry," Ted had said. "That was an accident."
"Too bad," I replied.
Ted and I had looked at each other, and time just stood still. He tentatively reached for me and pulled me to him, and we kissed. It was different from the way that Hiram kissed me. It wasn't better, or worse it was just different. In some ways I preferred the way that my husband kissed me. But for the past few years, Hiram's kisses were very perfunctory, just business as usual.
I remember when Hiram's passion could set me afire. Ted on the other hand, gave me the impression of desperate need with his kisses. It was as if he needed me so badly that he couldn't live without me, and I loved feeling that.
He grabbed handfuls of my big, nearly 60 year old ass and made me feel like a tight bodied thirty-year old again, and I loved feeling that as well.
"Wait," he said, "We shouldn't do this."
As I regained my breath I nodded in agreement. After all, his wife was my sister. And I was glad that he'd had enough sense to stop, because I wasn't sure that I would have.
I guess that at this point in my life I needed something. I could feel my youth and vitality ebbing away from me and maybe I was just looking for one more chance to feel like a young care free woman before I truly became the old woman that people saw when they looked at me.
Hiram did all of that running and working out, so he wasn't getting old as fast as I was, and he's also 8 years younger than I am. He could easily pass for forty, and society views aging men and women differently. An older man is distinguished, or experienced, but an older woman is just old.
You see lots of couples where an older guy ends up with some hot younger chick, but very few where an old bag nets some young stud muffin.
So maybe I just wanted an innocent fling before I was relegated to granny status for the rest of my life. At any rate Ted wasn't going to be it, because he steadfastly refused to do anything other than the occasional kiss or feel. He was definitely a chubby chaser, so my curves didn't turn him off at all. But as I said other than the occasional secretive kiss or game of grab ass at a stolen moment during a family outing, nothing ever happened between us.
.... There is more of this story ...