Statistically, whether we want to call them our high-school sweetheart, our first love or our dream girl or guy, most of us don't marry them. To bring it into a numerical value only between two and four percent of us marry them and most of those end up in divorce.

On the other hand, those of us who don't marry our first true love often ruin perfectly good marriages to other people who are, in fact, more suited to us because we simply can't let go of that perfect fantasy of first love. Come on, you know you've done it. After a hard day at work, you and your spouse are both feeling stressed and some of the little things get to you and you, for just a second, let your mind wander.

You bring her up in your mind. Whatever her name was, whether she was a blonde a brunette or a redhead, she was perfect wasn't she? Whether she was the most beautiful creature ever to walk the earth or only beautiful to you, she was perfect wasn't she?

So you begin to wonder, once again, what your life would have been like if you'd married HER instead. Don't worry about it, you're not alone. We all do it. It's only human to think about or even fantasize about the one that got away.

In my case, I'm Rick Green, the perfect creature was Magdalena Reardon. The woman simply defied description. Everything about her was right down the middle and perfect. She was neither tall nor short. She was perfect. Her hair was a brilliant flaming red with a natural wave to it. Her eyes were so green, they put plants to shame. Her lips were a natural red color that I was sure just had to taste like fresh cherries. Her legs were the reason they make short skirts. Even her flaws or shortcomings only made her more perfect.

She wasn't very blessed up top. To which most of the guys in my college econ class replied, "Who cares."

We dated for about three years. We met during our first year of college. It was her only year because college simply wasn't for her. She didn't have the discipline to go to class and study all the time when there were other, "more fun," things to do. We made plans for our life together and I really believed that we'd marry someday. Suffice it to say we didn't. We went our separate ways, her with a heavy heart and me with mine broken. I haven't seen her since. Over the years I've learned not to even listen when people talk about her. After all, what would be the point?

Anyway, I did eventually get over Magdalena and settled down with someone else. My wife, Diana, is a beautiful woman too. Maybe she's not goddess level, heart stopping beautiful the way Lena was, but I have no complaints. In fact, on some scales, like breast size, she's an upgrade. She's also someone that I just always feel comfortable around. She really and truly could be my soul mate.

There are times when I can look in her eyes and just know what she's thinking and she can do the same with me. With Lena, I was never sure where I stood. With Diana that is never in question.

Our life over the past almost twenty years has had its ups and downs, but overall there've been far more ups than downs. We've raised two great kids. Our son, Bobby, started college last fall and his sister, Carrie, will be joining him this year. We're in the home stretch now. Very soon we'll hit the magical time when the kids are grown and we can have our lives back again.

I'm the regional sales manager for a large international exporting company. My life is very nine to five. I might send a lot of my salesmen on the road but I work out of the home office and rarely if ever have to travel. I've been squirreling away vacation time for over ten years so that once Carrie gets into college, Diana and I can travel and take trips to see and explore all of those exotic places around the world that we've dreamed of.

We have a very comfortable house and several very good friends, some of whom have known us since my college days. Diana and I, as far as I know, have been faithful to each other for as long as we've known each other. I'm pretty sure I'd know if something had happened. We're secure enough in our love for each other that a little harmless flirting doesn't even faze us. All in all, I like my life.

That doesn't mean of course that there haven't been the odd moments that I didn't think back on my time with Lena, because there have been a lot of nights when I had her in mind while I rocked Diana's boat. There have also been times when I saw a really pretty redhead and my thoughts turned to Lena, but all in all, life worked out for the best. As I said before I was really happy.

And if you think that wasn't a cue for fate to just shit in my cornflakes, you're crazy.

Magdalena

I woke up because my face hurt. I ran to the mirror and saw the bruising on my cheek. That was it. I started packing immediately. Over the last few weeks, things had been escalating. I knew the signs. I'd been doing this for far too long. I met a guy. In the beginning he was enraptured by me and me by him. Over time though, things just seemed to go bad.

Before you knew it, they started to yell and curse at you. They were always apologetic afterwards or after they sobered up, but they always did it again. Then it became normal, they'd even yell and curse at you when they weren't drunk or angry. Finally, they'd start to hit you. Maybe it wasn't them. Maybe it was just the kind of men I picked. I mean God damn it, I'm getting close to being forty fucking years old and I don't have a home of my own or a husband or any kids.

Living from night to night, sleeping all day, playing cards and running con games isn't really the life I foresaw for me. There are so many nights that I laid there awake in my bed or someone else's bed and dreamed of the way my life was supposed to be. I knew this guy when I was in college. He was a really nice guy. He wanted to marry me. He was smart and nice and cute. All of the things that parents want for their daughters. I was so STUPID to let him get away.

We'd probably have a really nice home and a couple of kids right now. He wouldn't be the kind of guy to get mad about losing a card game and start hitting on me. We always think about the one that got away.

Well, Rick didn't actually get away. I kind of drove him away. At that point in my life, I wanted to party. I wanted excitement. Well I got it. God I was stupid. That man worshipped the ground I walked on. When I looked at him, I saw our kids in his eyes. The problem was I just wasn't mature enough or smart enough to understand what I wanted then.

There's also the fact that I've always been pretty. So I've always been able to pretty much get whatever I wanted from men. So even when he told me goodbye, the wavering in his voice let me know that although he'd been the first man who was ever strong enough to break up with me, I could have him back if I wanted him. True, I might actually have to work a bit, but there was no doubt in my mind that I could get him back.

I don't know why I thought about that as I packed. Maybe my reaction to leaving yet another man before he hurt me, or left me had me feeling a bit maudlin. Perhaps the fact that I was nearing forty was leading to me looking back over my life and trying to figure out if I was on the right path. The problem was, of course, that I wasn't exactly on a path. My life seemed to just be meandering listlessly towards an early grave. What would they write on my headstone? Here lies Magdalena, the prettiest woman that no one loved; survived by a lot of guys in bars who fucked her, fled her and forgot her. RIP.

With my few clothes in my suitcases, I closed the door on the fleabag apartment that I shared with George and headed for the bus stop. On my way out of the building, I noticed that his car, a wheezing twenty year old Buick was there. I know that George would probably miss the car more than he'd miss me. Fuck him. I needed to get away from him anyway. Besides he probably stole it from somebody else or won it in a crooked poker game. As far as I knew, the car wasn't even registered to him and he had no insurance. He'd just have to steal or win himself another one.

I ran back upstairs and grabbed the keys. I took his key to the apartment with me as well. It would make it even harder for him to discover that I was gone if he couldn't get into the apartment to even discover that I was gone. I knew he wouldn't go to the landlord since we were three months behind in the rent anyway.

Since I now had a way to get to wherever I was going, I only needed to figure out where I wanted to go. I just started driving and got on the freeway. I don't think I made the decision consciously but before I knew it, I was heading north. I was heading home. I hadn't been there in over ten years. The last time I'd gone was for my dad's funeral. I didn't run into very many people that I knew during that trip. And the ones I did run into weren't pleased to see me. I wondered if it would be any different now. There was one person in particular that I thought I needed to look up.

Diana

"Hey, Di. You look good," said a voice that was far closer to me than it should have been.

I looked up to see Bill Smith staring at me. His eyes never met mine and I could tell he was staring at my boobs as I leaned over the papers on my desk. Billy was harmless. He flirted with me a lot, but he knew that nothing would ever happen between us. I straightened up slowly, pushing my shoulders back and letting him enjoy the view. It was kind of flattering in a way. Not very many forty year old women still have guys salivating over the chance to stare at their sagging boobs.

There was no harm in revving Billy's motor a bit, especially when doing it revved mine as well. I'd take my extra revs home and use it to put a little spice in the sex between myself and the man I really wanted; my hubby, Rick, the only man for me.

I was sure that Bill would do the same. His wife, Matilda, was about my age and I'm sure he'd really put it to her tonight, thinking about me.

I'd known Bill for more than ten years. We'd both been to each other's homes and knew each other's families. We were comfortable enough to know that nothing was very likely to happen between us other than a little harmless flirting. Sometimes I even told Rick about it. He knew that I'd never cheat on him. I used his reaction sometimes to my benefit. When I told him that some guy was looking at me, it just made him give me extra attention. Sometimes he fucked the living shit out of me just to make sure I knew that I was his and his alone. He was stupid. I love him and I love our life together. I'd cut off my arm before I'd risk losing my marriage or my family.

Oh shit. Now I'd done it. Thinking about my husband and fucking had got me going. I could feel how hard my nipples had gotten and looking at Bill's face, I could see that he was staring at them even harder.

Oh well, like I said, no harm in revving his motor.

As he turned to walk away with a big dumb smile on his face and an extra swagger in his walk, I decided to go home. My last project for the day was done and there wasn't enough time to look at another account. Besides, I wanted to make my husband's night a little bit more special than normal.

I got out a big steak for him to grill. I figured I'd have a big salad and let him have a small salad as a side with his steak. Rick wasn't into bunny food as he called it. I'd been dieting a bit because as I aged and my metabolism slowed, I didn't want my ass to spread. So the occasional salad and work out helped to keep me fit and trim. I didn't need a workout tonight because I planned to burn off a lot of calories horizontally.

I marinated Rick's steak but I didn't light the grill. I'd learned early on in our marriage that some things were just the man's job. Any idiot could throw some charcoal briquettes in the grill, sprinkle them with lighter fluid and then throw in a match, but Rick made it seem like it was rocket science.

Besides, if he wanted to singe off his eyebrows, more power to him. I guess it was one of those differences between the sexes things. Some things men just loved and loved doing that made absolutely no sense to women and vice versa.

Almost like clockwork my husband's car pulled into the driveway. I knew it was him even without looking. The roar of his Mustang was unique. He'd had the factory exhaust system replaced before he ever drove the car. He'd had a chrome Magnaflow exhaust system installed. He also had chrome headers. Every single piece of pipe from the engine out the back was chrome. When I asked him why he couldn't just have chrome tips like everyone else, he looked at me as if there was something wrong with me.

Another thing I didn't understand was, if he bought a special exhaust system, shouldn't it make the car quieter rather than louder? I also found out that he likes hearing the sound of his motor. Some days he doesn't even listen to the radio, he just listens to the sound of that motor. I guess it's a guy thing.

So he walked in and just looked at me. Then he dropped his briefcase on the floor and held his arms out. I ran into them and hugged him as hard as I could. Our evenings together were great. We told each other about our mutual days at work. I told him that our daughter was spending the night at a friend's house and we both smiled.

He lit the grill and we sat together on our deck. Our yard has a 6 foot fence surrounding it so we had a good deal of privacy. As the flames on the grill died down, Rick put his steak on it. We walked back to our comfortable swing, smiling at me. I pretended that I couldn't meet his eyes.

"What's wrong Diana?" he asked. The concern in his voice always warmed my heart.

"It's nothing really major," I began. "It's just something that happened at work today honey. I guess I thought that you should know about it."

"Whatever it was Di," he began. "Don't worry about it. I make enough money that we could get by without your salary. If they want you to do something that you don't want to do, just quit."

"No Honey," I told him. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it?" he asked.

"Rick, I was bad," I said.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Well, it was Billy," I said quietly.

"Our friend Billy?" he asked.

I nodded my head as I sat down beside him. I still didn't look him in the eye.

"What did Bill do?" he asked.

"Well, I was sitting at my desk, minding my own business..." I began. My voice had become higher pitched until I sounded like a younger girl. "And Billy came over and stood in front of me. He was looking down my blouse and trying to see my titties."

"So what did you do?" he asked looking at me.

"I let him," I said looking up at him. "I could tell from the way that he was looking at me that he wanted to see my pussy too or maybe even touch it."

Rick did not react the way I expected him to. His fists clenched and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was getting angry. I needed to defuse the situation before it got blown totally out of proportion. I'd read about people who got turned on by the thought of their partner with someone else. Obviously, Rick wasn't one of those guys. To tell the truth, the thought of him having sex with another woman would anger me too.

"Of course, I'd never let him," I said smiling. "I closed my blouse up tight and came home to you like a good little girl. But I'd already been bad."

"How?" he asked. I could tell that he didn't know whether to be angry or not.

"Well, I'd already let him look. And even though I had a bra on and he didn't see much, these titties belong to you and you only. So I think I need to be punished so I'm not tempted to let someone look at them again.

"I agree," he said. Before I even knew what was going on, he'd closed the distance between us and grabbed me by the arm. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. He sat down on the bench in front of our pool.

"What are you going to do?" I asked. I wasn't really afraid because I knew that Rick loved me and would never hurt me no matter how angry he got.

"We have two problems here," he said. "First, you let him look. Then we have to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"So what are you going to do," I asked.

"Two problems mean two punishments," he snarled. "For letting him look, I'm going to spank your bare ass."

"Oh," I said seriously. "So what are you going to do after that?"

He looked at me very seriously. "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you," he said.

I looked back at him very sweetly. "And I'm going to let you," I smiled.

He pulled my shorts down and my panties with them and he paddled me on my bare, quivering ass cheeks. The first slap stung a little bit. As his hand hit my ass, he rubbed it a little bit caressingly. His strokes weren't actually hard enough to hurt, but they were making me wetter with each one.

"Harder baby," I hissed. Smack was his non verbal reply. "Oh yeah," I gushed, spreading my legs. I tried to reach up to finger myself but he was watching me and pulled my hand away.

"Punishment first," he said. I don't know how we got started doing this. It was the first time he'd ever spanked me but it wasn't going to be the last time.

I could feel his erection growing and pressing into my stomach as I lay across his legs. He was obviously enjoying this as much as I was. With each swat of his hand my ass got both redder and hotter. He started to rub my ass after every stroke and I started writhing. I was sure that my pussy was dripping by then.

He also started letting his fingers trail down between my legs and brushing against my pussy and my asshole with each stroke. Every touch against it made me want to cry out. A moan escaped my lips involuntarily.

"Rick, Honey?" I croaked when I could take it no more. My dulcet tones reduced to a rasp by pure lust.

He looked at with craziness in his eyes and grunted, "Huh?" I could tell that he too was so caught up in what we were feeling that he'd almost lost the ability to speak.

"Can we get to the fucking part, now?" I asked, in an innocent sounding voice. Rick didn't bother to reply. He grabbed me and gently put me down on the soft grass of our sprawling yard. We stripped off our clothes and reached for each other. There was neither the time, nor the need for foreplay. We were both so overcome with need that within seconds our bodies were slapping together violently. Rick was pumping me so hard that my pussy was making squishing sounds with each thrust. The occasional pussy fart sent us both into gales of laughter.

After about 15 frenzied minutes I came harder than ever before and screamed accordingly. Unfortunately, my scream prompted our elderly neighbor to climb up and take a look over the fence to see what the problem was. I think he was far more embarrassed than I was.

Both Rick and I were bathed in sweat and glassy eyed. This had been the first time he'd ever spanked me. It hadn't been planned, but it was so good it definitely wouldn't be the last. Of course, Rick's steak was burnt to a crisp but who cared.

An hour later, after we'd both showered and were lying in our yard again, this time in our giant hammock, staring at the stars, I didn't think it was possible for my life to get any better. I loved Rick so much that I had trouble putting it into words.

Magdalena

Early Monday morning, I pulled back into my home town. Everywhere I looked I saw familiar sites and also new buildings and businesses. The Buick had been wheezing and misfiring for the last hundred miles, so like a dying horse, I'd been beating the shit out of it. I hadn't dared to stop to get anything to eat because I was afraid that if I did I'd be stuck where ever I stopped and I really wanted to get home.

Did I say home? It sounds so funny when I say it because for the last twenty years I really haven't had a home. WE, meaning me and whomever I hooked up with, just traveled from place to place doing what we had to in order to eke out a living.

I slowed in time to avoid running through a red light and a big burst of smoke poured from under the Buick's hood. I moved over to the curb just as the ancient car began to vibrate then sputtered loudly and the motor quit. I tried the key again and heard nothing. There was simply no sound coming from the engine at all. I didn't hear the whirring of the starter or even the buzzing of the battery feeding electricity to the starter. The engine didn't sound like it was even trying to turn over.

I got out of the car, leaving my suitcases in the trunk. I couldn't help laughing. The car had gotten me to where I needed to go at least. What happened to it now wasn't my problem. After all it wasn't my car anyway. I was right in front of Barney's Diner. I decided to go in and see if I could find anyone I knew. I was also going to have to find a place to live in and maybe someone in Barney's might help with that.

As soon as I stepped in, Barney, the owner shook his head and pointed at his office. I followed him through the door and he launched in on me.

"When did you drag your ass back to town?" he asked.

"Less than five minutes ago," I said.

"Need a job?" he asked.

"I guess so," I said. I'd waitressed at Barney's off and on whenever I needed money, but that had been almost twenty years ago. Working at Barney's was an experience. Barney ran a great place. He hired the best cooks and paid them well enough to keep them. He was also very good to his customers because he knew that as went his reputation and treatment of his clientele, so went his fortunes.

His waitresses were another matter entirely. If you waitressed for Barney, you fucked Barney. It wasn't a matter of whether or not you wanted to; it was a question of when Barney would want you to.

He looked at me and immediately reached out a ham like hand and pawed my boobs. "I'm having trouble with this concept," he sneered at me. "You must be pushing forty and still no boobs."

"What I have everywhere else makes up for it," I smiled at him.

"What else do you have?" he asked with a sarcastic look on his face. He stood up and walked around me. At first I thought he was looking at my ass but he walked around me in a complete circle. "Oh I see it now," he smirked. "You're twenty pounds heavier. You have more lines on your face. Your ass isn't as tight as it was. You have no boobs at all, but you still have the same fucked up attitude."

I bit my lip as I remained silent about his appraisal of me.

"You can't get by on cute anymore," he said. "You're way too old for that. Plus red heads just don't age well. I'd put you at about three to four years away from losing your attractiveness. So you'd better figure out what you want to do with the rest of your life."

"When, Barney?" I asked.

"When what?" he asked back, looking at me.

"You know," I said, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, things have changed in twenty years, Lena," he said. "For one thing, I'm married now. For another thing, I still occasionally dip into the staff. But there's no need for me to push myself on anyone. Women are different these days. A lot of them come after me now. It's like a trade thing. Two grownups both have needs. It doesn't cost her anything to give me some pussy. It doesn't cost me anything to give her some extra hours. Most of the girls are way younger than you and way more willing."

"Wow, thanks for making me feel wanted," I said.

"Don't mention it," he said, in the same snarky tone. "Grab a uniform from the locker room. You probably need a medium bottom and..." he paused and looked at me smiling. " ... An extra small top."

He started laughing and headed through the door muttering something like, "Pushing forty and she has no tits at all, who'd a thunk it?"

I went back into the locker room behind the kitchen and grabbed a uniform. I met another waitress there named Sally. She was in her early twenties. She was a slightly chunky blond with a smile for everyone and a cheerful disposition. Before we even started working I knew her entire fucking life story. The thing that made me angry was that it was so much like mine was supposed to be. Her boyfriend was studying chemical engineering at the nearby university at night. During the day he worked for the local police force and she was waitressing to make some money before they got married. I hoped that she was smarter than I was and didn't fuck it up.

Waitressing was like riding a bike. I remembered everything as soon as I tried it. Unfortunately, my body didn't like being reminded and before I was even halfway through the shift, my back, my ankles and my feet were all rebelling against the abuse. For the past nearly twenty years, my life's pattern had revolved around sleeping until afternoon and staying up all night. Whomever I'd hooked up with might need me to serve as a distraction in a card game. Okay I don't have any boobs to flash but I can bend over with the best of them. Or I might have to help them scam or con some money out of some sucker.

But I wasn't doing any actual work, except maybe occasionally screwing someone. I hadn't done any work like this since my twenties. My spirits had started to sink when it happened. I'm a cynical bitch, I just flat out don't believe in much, but when it happened it made a believer out of me.

It was like a scene from one of those old classic movies. I know about classic movies because back in high school I took a class in film. I only took it because I thought it was an easy "A." We just sat there and watched these cheesy old movies and talked about them afterwards. We didn't have to write a single paper or turn in anything. The class was supposed to be so easy that no one could fail it. I came pretty fucking close. I got a "D." I had a problem staying awake through all of those cheesy black and white movies.

But even I remember Bogie's classic line from Casablanca. "Of all the gin joints in all of the cities in the world, why'd HE have to come into mine?" I quickly ducked back into the kitchen. Whether it was out of fear or surprise, I don't know. I did know two things though. The first was that for over twenty years I'd wasted my life with a series of things, places and men that didn't matter. None of those guys had ever cared about me or made me feel the way that Ricky had and there he was in front of me, the one that got away.

Like Bogie, I wondered why he had to wander into this place, on this day, when I was at the lowest point in my life. My talk with Barney had really taken a lot of my swagger and confidence away. He'd walked in and sat down at a table with three other guys. From the way they were all dressed, I assumed that they were coworkers. Rick looked good, really good, too good. The first thought going through my mind was that I wanted him back at any cost.

The second thing was that like Barney had told me, I was pushing forty and had nothing to show for it. I didn't have a home of my own or children who loved me. I didn't have any real friends, hell I didn't even have a man who wanted to be in my life for the long haul. All I'd had was a series of partners and fuck buddies. I'd messed up my relationship with Rick twenty years ago because he was too serious and I wanted to party and have fun. Well, I'd partied and I'd had fun, but looking back on it, the cost of things that I'd lost was simply too high.