One Thousand Apologies
Copyright© 2016 by Joe Long
Prologue
Coming of Age Sex Story: Prologue - I was a nineteen year old virgin when I met my first love - she was my fourteen year old cousin.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Ma/ft Teenagers Consensual Romantic Teen Siren Heterosexual Fiction Historical Sports Tear Jerker Incest Cousins Cream Pie First Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Safe Sex Small Breasts Slow
One Thousand Apologies
And knowing what I’ve done to you,
With every thought you suffer through
My heart as black as evil can
And everything I could have been,
Erased by what I wanted then
I couldn’t think a lesser man
All the delicate ways
That I deepened our graves
My apology pales
Demon Hunter
We buried my cousin last week.
Fucking breast cancer.
We stood in the middle of the cemetery, on a hilltop in western Pennsylvania. The church loomed across the road, a hundred yards to our right. The sun glared in my eyes as I stared at the tombstone.
Hannah R. Berkey
Nov 17, 1964 - July 23, 2014
Forty-nine years old – and gone.
I was the last one standing at her grave. Biting my lip, I tossed a handful of dirt onto the lowered coffin. My wife tugged at my arm, her voice a whisper. “C’mon, Joe.”
I turned and walked over to embrace Hannah’s husband. The rest of her family waited in line—Rebecca, Leah, Liz, her brother and sister and their spouses, her mother, and my mother. Various aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins, and friends milled around as some were already heading to their cars.
Her brother Dave extended his hand, and I shook it firmly. “Thanks for coming, man. When’re you guys headed back to Virginia?”
“Tonight. I’m sorry the kids couldn’t make it. Josh is settling into a new place in Pittsburgh, and Rachel had to stay with her kids. How yunz doing? Been too long.”
“Oh, we’ve been okay. We’re heading back to Maryland tomorrow. The store is doing great. George got remarried, and Jeff’s got a nice place near you guys—you should go see him sometime.”
“Yeah, we gotta do that.” I patted his shoulder. “We’ll catch up later.”
At the end of the line, Mom said softly, “We’ll see you at the restaurant, son.”
Walking back to the car, I said to my wife, “I thought she might beat this. She was always talking about the happy stuff—the kids, church, n’at—and then I log onto Facebook and see the message from Leah.”
She squeezed my hand as we approached the car. “Other than a few reunions, we’ve hardly seen them since they moved to Florida.”
I slipped into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, the weight of everything pressing down on me. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Leaning back, I let out a sob, the tears streaming freely down my face.
From the passenger seat, my wife’s voice broke through the quiet. “Are you gonna be okay, honey? It’s not like you to get so broke up.”
“Yeaaah...” I croaked, barely able to manage the word.
She hesitated, then said, “I never did like her that much anyway.”
Furious, I snapped my head around, locking eyes with her. “Don’t! Just don’t!”