Hey Folks. Here's another tale of broken hearts and broken dreams. But also of getting up and getting on with it. Once again my gibberish is cleaned, polished and bejeweled by the GREAT (he claims he isn't legendary) Barney-R. This one isn't as long as the one from two weeks ago but I think it's still a good story. For any of you who speak with a Southern accent, please don't take offense to my tongue in cheek versions of it. I used it not to insult or pick fun but because women with southern accents are the sexiest things on God's green earth. Nuff said. SS06
6 a.m. The Sun was just beginning to come up as I roared down the freeway. Last night I couldn't get to sleep at all. No, I wasn't thinking about the song from Marilyn Mcoo and Billy Davis. There was a jumble of all kinds of thoughts going through my head. They were all disjointed and most of them were about all kinds of subjects.
I thought about my new Goodyear supercar tires, their grip was much better than the tires I had before. I thought about Newton's laws of physics. I thought about how my life was in limbo. My iridium spark plugs did seem to make my 2009 45th anniversary Mustang GT peppier. I wondered why there were no cops on the freeway. I wondered why I was driving 145 miles per hour which immediately made me glad I had cross drilled and slotted rotors with oversized calipers.
I stomped on the brake pedal and brought my wild pony to an abrupt stop. The only sound in my ears was the incessant thrumming of my Mustang's motor. My pony wanted to run. She hated stopping and the sound of the motor let me know that she was impatient to be on our way.
I had stopped in the middle of the freeway. Luckily for me it was deserted. It was a summer Sunday morning, so no one was going to work. If it had been a busy Monday or another weekday, stopping could have gotten me killed, or gotten me into an accident at the very least.
I was fifty yards in front of a double fork in the road. I could go in any of three directions. The road to the center would take me West towards my new job and I suppose my future. When I left the motel that morning I was sure I was going that way. The road to the right would take me south and the left path would take me off of the freeway and back home.
I'm not accustomed to being indecisive. I'm at a point in my life where I usually move quickly and make decisions just as fast, but just this once, as I sat there in my car I had no idea where to go.
I'm a manufacturing Engineer and a pretty good one at that. I'm also forty years old. Being forty is like being in limbo. At forty, you're not exactly a young man any more. Most people no longer expect you to be wet behind the ears. They expect you to know what you're doing and what you're talking about.
On the other hand, at forty, you're not exactly old either. That means that no one is going to give you any kind of senior citizen discounts or perks. They're also not going to simply take things you say as coming from a position of age or wisdom. It's kind of fucked up. You're too young to be old and too old to be young.
My name is Robert Playne. As mentioned before, I'm forty years old. I've been married to my wife, Jane, for twenty years. Our daughter, Cassandra, is in her third year of college. She's in the nursing program at Michigan State and sucking money out of me left and right. She'll be getting married soon. She's been engaged to a really nice kid for about a year now. I think they're both waiting to graduate with their degrees before they tie the big knot.
Things are different for kids these days. I guess the sensible ones want to make sure they have all of the things they need BEFORE marriage and kids. I've tried several times to explain to Sandy, that her mom and I got hitched at only twenty years old because we had to. I mean we WERE in love, but we didn't have time to wait because we wanted to be married when SHE was born.
We had a few rough times early on and had to pinch our pennies. But our life turned out great. We have a beautiful home in a nice neighborhood. We have all of the creature comforts we could ever need and money in the bank.
We've talked about retiring early, so we can travel together while we're still fit enough to do so. And then we'll settle down and spoil the shit out of our grand kids.
At least that was the way it was supposed to work out. We had puttered along on the same path for almost twenty years. I love Jane more than anything I can think of. I feel the same way about Cassandra. I have a great job, great friends, and a very rich life. My life was an object in a state of uniform motion.
I loved Jane and I was confident that she felt the same. At forty we weren't kids anymore, but we were still deeply in love. We still did all of the little things that said so.
If we could have continued on that way, I'd have gone to my grave a happy camper.
I woke up one morning last week, feeling heat in my nether region. Jane as usual had fallen asleep wrapped around me. I woke up and that heat had me thinking about wake-up sex.
I reached between us and cupped her pubic mound. The soft curls were still damp with the residue of what we'd done the night before. She was sticky and moist but still warm and I started to gently rub her down there.
"Didn't you get enough of that last night?" she asked. Her voice was scratchy and she was just coming awake.
"I don't think I could ever get enough of this," I said.
"Well you're going to have to wait," she laughed. "Both of us have to work today and one of us is on the early shift." She kissed me, unleashing the dragon of her morning breath. As much as I loved her, I had never gotten used to her breath in the morning. Although I had never said anything about it to avoid hurting her feelings, Jane's morning breath was awful. It smelled like she ate peanut butter and shit sandwiches before getting into bed and they had fermented over night.
I reached for her butt as she got out of the bed. I squeezed it and she giggled. She turned around and dangled her boobs over my head, just out of reach. As quick as a cat, I lunged for her and dragged her back into bed with me.
"You know what happens to women who tease men, right?" I asked.
"What," she asked, smiling from ear to ear?
"Sooner or later, they end up getting fucked," I said. She laughed.
"That sounds so funny when you say it," she laughed. "When you say getting fucked, it sounds like something brutal and unpleasant. It's like you're describing a punishment. But you're so gentle and so loving that when we do it, it's the most pleasurable thing I can imagine. It's more of a reward. And I promise you can reward me all you want tonight. But I have to get my ass to the office, or Hank is going to fire me."
"Hank is your uncle," I laughed. "Besides, he and everyone else there, know that you only work there to help him out. He should be paying you a lot more."
"Yeah," she said. "But Uncle Hank is family. And besides, I only work at the office to give me something to do. You're at work most of the day and Cassandra is away at college. Being at the office gives me something to do."
"It gives you a chance to flirt with all of those God damned salesmen," I snapped.
She laughed so hard she fell on the bed beside me. "You think it's funny," I said. "But..."
Before I could finish my sentence she covered my mouth with hers, dragon breath and all.
"I don't think it's funny at all," she said. I noticed a tear in the corner of her eye. "I think it's the sweetest, most romantic thing ever. I can't believe you still get jealous after all of this time. You still act like I'm some hot young girl and you don't want anyone else near me."
Sometimes it's best not to say anything, so I didn't. "I love you, Bob," she gushed. "Now go brush your teeth, while I shower, so your next kiss won't taste like feet." I swatted her on her substantial ass as she walked away.
Jane was no longer the svelte girl/woman that she'd been when we first got together, but after twenty years, two Mustangs, three houses, a full grown daughter and a lifetime of triumphs and tragedies, I still loved her the same as I did then.
I lay there in the bed, imagining what the next few years of our lives would be like. Now that our daughter was an adult, we could begin the next phase. There were so many places we had always wanted to see and things we'd wanted to do.
"Hey, I thought you were supposed to be getting your lazy ass up and brushing those teeth," she said. "Hurry up, I'm not kissing you goodbye until you get that taste out of your mouth. I'll be downstairs waiting for you mister."
As she said it, she grabbed her boobs and squeezed them, and then let them fall back into place. Her blouse was tight enough to outline her boobs, even though it was buttoned all the way up so that not even a hint of cleavage showed. At work she was totally professional; at home she was an outrageous tease.
I hopped up and ran into the bathroom. I quickly brushed my teeth and also took the time to shave. When I hurried down the stairs, Jane was on the computer. I noticed that she had her email account open and quickly closed it as I came into the room. "Just checking the list of ingredients for the special treat I'm making you for dinner tonight, Honey," she smiled.
.... There is more of this story ...