"Try it again."Sara yelled as she pulled away from the carburetor of the 1966 Volkswagen Beetle. Her daughter pressed the pedal to the floor and turned the key. The engine roared. "That ought to do it." Sara said, triumphantly, as she put the air cleaner back on the carburetor and twisted the idle adjustment needle one last time.
She took her coveralls off and tossed them over a hook in the garage, dusted off her mini-skirt and put her high-heeled boots on. She was not entirely glad to see the engine finally start.
Her husband had died four years ago, when the twins were about fourteen. She had managed to struggle on with the social security benefits and what was left after she had sold his garage, but with the twins being accepted to MIT, money was going to be a real problem. She had vowed to never marry again, but her daughters, Jenny and Marie being accepted to a very expensive college next year, she may have to reconsider.
Unknown to her, the girls had entered her name and posted her pictures on a dating side about a year ago. They had posted a number of sexy pictures of her when she was a teenager, college track star, and then a young housewife. Sara did not feel they were being entirely honest with the dating website. The pictures made her look like a very young woman, when in fact she was now forty years old.
She was not the fleet footed eighteen years old who had run a 4:55 mile at the KU Relays. On the other hand, for a woman who had two children, she had not gained any weight and could still run four laps around the track under six minutes. She was practically a pure clone to her two daughters, who turned heads wherever they went. Sara had long reddish brown hair that she usually wore in a "fish-tail" braid. It was pulled tight behind her head; braided a couple of twists; and tied off with a rubber band; the rest of the tail hung down to her waist. Most women had cut their hair short after they had children, because it was too much trouble. Sara had done that too for many years, but when her girls had become fourteen, they seemed to want to take over. They insisted that their mother let her hair grow out so they would all look the same.
Jenny and Marie were the hit with boys everywhere they went. The usually wore cut off Levi's all summer and tried to get her mother to do the same. The girls wore tight, short shorts that were hemmed just clear of their crotch, but Sara insisted on wearing hers longer and more age appropriate. All of them were bronze skinned beauties from working on the yard and spending part of each weekend at the city pool. The pool gave the girls a chance to meet boys and work on their tan at the same time.
The girls had set up their mother on the internet and she had met a number of men over the years. The latest was a successful businessman who had his own Marketing Firm. He had been corresponding with Sara for about a year. They had made visits to each other's cities about once a month; alternating between Kansas City and Quebec.
Sara was grudgingly interested, but not sure quite how mutual their interest was. She had not had a real satisfactory marriage the first time. She could use the financial security with her children going to college, but was not sure about making another commitment. He had proposed, but she was skeptical.
A few months ago she had gone to Quebec for another visit. She knew that the time had probably come. He had made reservations for her at the Fairmont Le Chateau Frontenac. He had taken her for a carriage ride along the river front. They had gone to dinner at a number of wonderful restaurants within the Old Walled City, visited the Capitol, and walked along the narrow cobblestone streets and warehouses along the water.
She knew the time had come. Maybe she would learn to love him, she thought. Anyway, he had invested a lot of time and money in her. She knew it was coming to this. Conrad Logan was suave and charming throughout dinner and the carriage ride. As he escorted her up to the top floor of the hotel, it seemed like a natural part of the evening when he opened the door and guided her in. She did not put on any false airs of modesty. He was expecting it, and she did not see a way out.
Conrad took her over to the big windows that faced the St. Lawrence River. They could see the cannons below and the other side of the river. They could see the people along the boardwalk and the street performers doing acrobatics.
She did not complain when he stood behind her pointing out the different points of interest along the river. She knew it was coming when he cupped her breast. It was going to happen. How could a forty year old mother of two resist after he had spent a year or so corresponding with her and paying for their visits?
Sara was somewhat receptive to his advances, but either way, it was to be expected. Sara did her part. She was the fascinated guest who watched the wonderful panorama with amazement as he undressed her. From Conrad's perspective, it was hard to tell which the more spectacular sight was.
The middle-aged woman he had brought to Canada from Kansas City was a spectacular sight. He had unbuttoned her dress with no resistance. He had reached around her and unclasped the bra which snapped in the middle of her front. She was not wearing panty hose. Her panties were somewhere between old-maid and Victoria's Secret. Her black lace panties were not as skimpy as a thong. The back and front panels stopped just below her belly button. They had a wisp of elastic that joined the front and back.
Conrad reached his hands into them. She covered his hands with hers. It had been a long time, and she wasn't sure anymore quite how to handle a "first time." Her hands were over his when he slid them down her thighs. She laid her head against him as she stepped out of them.
When he turned her to kiss her, he couldn't help but admire her reflection in the high arched windows. Standing in her high heel boots, he could see that she had a golden tan everywhere except where her bikini lines were. He removed her wire rimmed spectacles and tossed them on the side table as he kissed her. He flipped her long fishtail braid back over her so he could see both breasts. Her medium-small porcelain covered breasts had the longest red nipples he had ever seen.
She dutifully wrapped her long arms up and around his neck as they embraced. His tongue told her that she was expected to reciprocate. Nervously she opened her mouth and allowed him to enter. He picked her up and walked over to the bed.
The rest of the evening went about as well as expected. Sara knew they would have to take this step to see where they went from there. He was not earth changing, but he was also not objectionable either.
When he took her to the plane, she was pretty sure he was willing to marry her. Sara knew she would have to make some decisions. One of the biggest was that her daughters were going to need lots of money the next four years; six if they got their masters, and even more for their doctorates. They were smart enough, but the question was about the money.
In the weeks that followed, they spent more time on the computers; Skyping each other. Conrad liked to talk to her on the computer and see her reactions. Conrad had seen her naked, so now he wanted more. He kept asking her to wear more and more revealing clothes when they were on together. It was hard for her to do. Finally she started to wear just a blue, men's oxford button-collar work shirt to bed. She would sit at her computer table to Skype. Rather than overtly show herself nakedly, she was a little more discreet about it. When she typed, she might turn herself a little. It didn't take much movement for the shirt to part and a breast to be exposed. Sometimes when she re-crossed her legs, Conrad would get a fleeting glance at her partially shaven labia. She had shaven the part above her cleft into a landing strip configuration. Below that, she was bare. It wasn't her idea, but her girls had teased her so mercilessly about it, she finally relented. They had all gone to a Brazilian Bikini Wax shop and had it done. The girls had gone further, and taken all the hair off.
The next time Sara went to Quebec, Conrad proposed. But there were some stipulations. He said he did not necessarily need to have a prenuptial agreement that she would not get anything in the event of a divorce, but it was close.
Sara was expected to sign some sort of "agreement;" stating:
· She would get a set amount of money each month that would be enough for her girls schooling.
· That she would be expected to be an equal partner in the Marketing Firm of Sullivan, Logan and Sink
By now, Sara was running out of options. Her daughters were on the borderline of having to make a commitment of some kind to the school; deposits had to be made and dorms had to be determined. Sara felt she needed to make the best of her situation, and accepted his offer. "She would eventually learn to love him." She told herself.
The wedding was much better than her first. When she had been in her early twenties, she and her husband did not have much money. Now, she had been able to afford all of the amenities; reception dinners, flowers, lots of good stuff. After a short honeymoon, the couple settled into their modest home.
The house was on the edge of the St. Lawrence River, several hundred feet up on the outskirts of Quebec. The kids would be in school, so redecorating the extra bedrooms wasn't an urgent matter yet.
The house had a walkout basement with amphitheater seating around a large patio flanked on three sides by the house. The limestone courtyard had a pool at the far end, with a pool house behind it.
.... There is more of this story ...