“Now, I can’t wait to take a shower,” I thought to myself.
I had just finished mowing my yard and the hot Georgia sun was blazing down. I had started about 9 am on this Saturday morning and had completed the front and back yard some three hours later. Altogether I had nearly three acres of yard to mow and once again thought maybe it was finally time to get a riding mower.
Or hire someone to mow like most of my neighbors did.
It’s not that I couldn’t afford to buy a mower or hire someone, but I used the mowing as a form of exercise.
I had spent three years in the Marine Corps, then got hurt in a stupid “training exercise.” At least “training exercise” sounded better than what really happened, because what really happened is I was playing left field in a softball game and stepped into a hole where a sprinkler head was supposed to be.
Some idiot had taken the defective head out and forgotten to cover the hole over. When I went back to get a ball my foot landed in the hole and my knee bent in a way that knees aren’t supposed to bend. Our company was playing for the base championship against the three-time defending champions.
I was the starting left fielder and batted third, and when I stepped into the hole we were leading 5-2. I had already hit two doubles and a triple and scored three times, and driven in the other two runs.
I ended up having two different surgeries on the knee, but the damage had already been done.
And yes, the important part is, we won. I still have my championship trophy and had been named Most Valuable Player for the tournament.
The Marine Corps offered and I accepted, a 20 percent disability, which works out to about $260 a month in disability pay.
Yes, I had a limp, but not too bad and yes, the knee hurt at times, but at least I could usually tell when a bad storm was about to move in. Before any kind of really heavy thunderstorm the knee would really act up.
Every day I would ride my bike for a couple of miles to exercise the knee, then on alternate days I would also walk a couple of miles. I also had a fairly extensive home gym I would exercise in every day. I considered pushing the mower over three acres of yard as a form of exercise.
As I was putting the push mower away, I glanced at a thermometer I kept outside the garage. It was already 97 degrees and it was only noon. I knew the weather folks were calling for a high today of around 101 degrees.
“Time for that shower,” I thought again, then as I was about to walk inside I heard a car coming up the driveway.
As soon as I saw the green Mini Cooper I knew it was Kim, my step-daughter’s best friend.
I started smiling as soon as I saw the car because Kim was one of those bright, bubbly personalities whose usual smiles and good spirits simply brightened the day of anyone who saw her.
Not to mention that she was an absolute knock-out. I mean simply drop-dead gorgeous!
Megan, my step-daughter, was very pretty, really beautiful in her own right and reminded me so much of her mother it sometimes hurt. Tall and naturally blonde, with a very slender figure, but Kim was almost the opposite.
Kim was not as tall (about 5’5”), dark haired and had an hour-glass figure. Kim literally had the face and body of a model.
When anyone saw the two of them together, they couldn’t help but spend more time gazing at Kim.
Megan was beautiful, but Kim was extraordinary.
I had taken my shirt off while cutting the grass so I quickly slipped it back on, then walked over to Kim’s car.
I think this was the only time I had ever seen Kim when she wasn’t smiling. In fact my first thought was she is just a few seconds away from crying.
“What’s wrong, Kim, what’s wrong?” I asked, very concerned.
“Mr. ‘C’, is Megan here?” she asked in what was almost a pleading voice.
“No, Kim, one of her friends called her early this morning and they went to Six Flags,” I explained. Six Flags is an amusement park near Atlanta.
Kim started crying, with big tears rolling down her face.
“I kept calling her phone, hoping she was here, but she didn’t answer,” Kim said, between tears.
“Last time she went to Six Flags, she got soaked on Thunder River and her phone got wet and was ruined,” I told her, “so I am sure she probably left it in her car.”
“Oh God, I don’t know what to do,” Kim wailed.
“What’s wrong, Kim, please tell me what’s wrong and I’ll try to help,” I assured her.
“Oh, shit, Mr. ‘C’, I can’t tell you, I can’t tell anyone. I am so embarrassed,” she finally said, crying even harder now. “The only one I could tell was Megan and she isn’t here.”
By now I was really getting very concerned so I opened the door to the Mini Cooper and knelt down beside Kim. I reached out and put a hand on her shoulders and turned her until she was slightly facing me. From even that little body movement I could see Kim grimace.
“Look Kim, I know that you are Megan’s best friend, but I hope that you consider me to be a friend as well,” I began, and Kim almost smiled and nodded her head.
“You can tell me anything and I promise that I won’t judge you, I won’t yell at you and if there is anything I can do to help ... then I will do it. I promise. Now come on and get out of the car and come inside for a few minutes.”
This time Kim did smile for a few seconds before her face turned beet red and she dropped her eyes.
“I can’t get out of the car and I can barely walk,” she began, “My boyfriend...”
With those last two words, Kim’s face turned even redder with embarrassment.
I think my face also started turning red, but in my case it was anger.
Megan had already told me more than I wanted to hear about Kim’s new boyfriend. I knew Megan didn’t like him. I mean really, really didn’t like him. He was, according to Megan, very controlling and often verbally abusive to Kim.
Megan didn’t think he had started becoming physically abusive yet, but from seeing the condition Kim was now in I couldn’t help but think he must have really done something to hurt her pretty badly.
“Kim, I don’t care what he’s done, you just let me know and I promise he will never hurt you, never come near you again. Do you hear me?” I asked, and I guess she could hear my anger.
At first Kim just nodded, then started crying even harder before finally managing to choke out the words.
“This morning ... this morning ... he made me put something in my ... my bottom. He told me I had to wear it all day. But ... but now it is hurting so bad. I ... I tried to get it out, but it hurts too much! I can barely walk and sitting down and driving over here was like torture.
“Oh, God, Mr. ‘C’, what am I going to do?” she wailed.
Oh. My. God.
Was this incredibly beautiful young woman telling me she had a butt plug in her ass and it was stuck?
At that moment I was very glad she was looking down and not at my face. As hard as I tried to not let any emotion show she would probably still see a little grin at the thought of her “condition.”
I mean, let’s be honest. I try to be a thoughtful, kind, considerate guy, BUT ... I’m still a guy.
In the last year-and-a-half since my wife died, I have caught myself staring at my step-daughter’s friend in something other than a simply friendly fashion. Hell, as long as I am being honest, I have caught myself staring at my step-daughter in something less than a fatherly way.
Right now, however, I knew Kim needed a friend. And I felt it was my duty to try to be that friend.
“Well, the first thing we are going to do is get you inside,” I told her, as I undid Kim’s seatbelt. Then I stood up and put one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, then carefully lifted her out of the Mini Cooper.
Despite my best effort I could both see and feel her wince and gasp in pain.
Once I had her out of the car I carried Kim through the garage, into the kitchen and into the living room.
I told her I would be as gentle as possible, but I was going to put her down on the couch.
She again cried out in pain as her bottom hit the couch and could see fresh tears in her eyes.
I couldn’t help but wonder why it was so painful. I had never heard of a butt plug causing that much distress after it was inside.
I told her I would be right back and went into my bathroom where I rummaged through my medicine cabinet for a minute. I finally found what I was looking for buried amongst the different medicines.
I walked back into the kitchen and poured some juice and then returned to the living room. I knelt beside the couch before asking.
“Kim, do you trust me?”
She nodded “Yes.”
I handed her the juice and a pill.
“This is a muscle relaxer the doctor gave me last year, after I hurt my back. It is NOT a knockout pill, it is NOT a sleeping pill and it will NOT make you unconscious.
“It will make you a little woozy, so you can’t drive for at least eight or 10 hours, but you will be awake. If you trust me, then please take the pill.”
See looked at the pill in her hand, then looked into my face for a minute before popping the pill in her mouth and drinking the juice.
“It will probably take about 30 minutes for the pill to start working, so I will just let you relax, okay?”
After she nodded that she understood I went back into my bathroom and got out a bottle of baby oil and started running warm water over it. Then I got some towels and washcloths and ran some hot water into a small bucket I got out of the garage.
After 30 minutes passed I grabbed everything and headed back upstairs.
Kim was still lying on the couch but now with her eyes closed.
“Kim?” I asked and instantly her eyes opened.
“How do you feel?” I inquired.
“Well, like you said just a little woozy, but my butt (and her face turned red with embarrassment again), I mean my bottom does feel better. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much. Just more uncomfortable now, rather than a sharp pain.”
“Okay. Now before I start I have to ask you again. Do you trust me?”
This time Kim looked directly into my eyes before answering: “Completely.”
“I have some baby oil that I warmed up and I am going to rub some on your bottom, trying to work it around the plug and hopefully that will make it easier to remove.
“I guess the easiest thing will be for you to lay down across my legs with your head and shoulders on the couch and your feet on the floor.”
Soon, with only minimal discomfort, Kim was face down on the couch.
“I’ll need to pull your dress up and take your panties off,” I told her.
I could still see the side of her face and saw that Kim immediately turned bright red again.
“I ... I’m not wearing any panties. Matt told me I couldn’t wear any today. He said as soon as he got home he was going to bend me over the kitchen table, remove the plug and ... and shove his dick in ... in my ass.”
I already didn’t like Matt from what Megan had told me about how he treated Kim and the more Kim revealed about his treatment of her made me start to really dislike him.
“Have you ever tried anal ... I mean have you ever tried sex like that?” I asked, trying not to embarrass her any more than necessary.
Kim shook her head “No.”
“He tried a couple of nights ago, but I wasn’t ready and it hurt so much I screamed. He really got mad and said the next time he didn’t care how much I screamed. In fact, he said would probably put a gag in my mouth.
“I guess the next day he bought ... that thing and this morning he made me put in. It hurt so much I screamed again and nearly passed out but he just laughed at me.”
I was really, really, really starting to dislike Matt by now.
I pulled her dress up and like Kim said, she wasn’t wearing any panties. I think I must have gasped a little when I saw her butt. It was truly one of the most beautiful and sexiest I had ever seen. Even with the white plug sticking out of her bottom.
I continued to pull the dress up and Kim lifted her hips slightly until the dress was bunched up about mid-back, almost to her bra which I noticed was bright red.
“I’m going to rub your back and legs a little before I start,” I told her, “just try to relax as much as you can ... and don’t worry. I promise I will not take advantage of you.”
“Okay, Mr. ‘C’,” she said. “I do trust you ... completely.”
I spent several minutes just massaging her back before beginning to rub the backs of her thighs. Several times I heard Kim softly whisper, “That feels good.”
I was still wearing the shorts I had on while mowing and began to feel something wet against my leg. And no, I knew it wasn’t just some excess baby oil. I could actually smell her arousal.
After several more minutes of massaging her back and thighs I knew it was time to begin. By now Kim was actually rubbing herself against my leg.
I poured some baby oil around the plug, then began working my fingers under the plug until I was rubbing against her completely filled anus. I heard her moan as I moved the plug in order to work my fingers underneath.
“Am I hurting you, Kim?” I asked.
At first, she didn’t answer.
“Umm, no, not really,” she finally said. “Your fingers actually feel ... really good.”
By now my leg was almost drenched in her juices.
“Okay, now I’m going to try to remove the plug,” I warned her, “this might hurt for a moment.”
“Wait, Mr. ‘C’,” she said. “Do you think you can rub me some more ... below the plug ... lower down?
“I ... I ... I think I could relax even more if you do.”
With those words she actually spread her legs apart.
I drizzled some baby oil on my fingers, then began caressing her inner thighs, from her knees all the way up to her vagina.
I barely let my fingers touch the lips of her outer labia, but that was enough to elicit a gasp and Kim began rubbing herself even more against my thigh while spreading her legs even further apart.
“That feels so good,” Kim gasped, whenever my fingers would brush against her opening.
I didn’t really think I needed any more lubrication, but I drizzled some more baby oil on my fingers before I started lightly caressing the lips of her vagina.
“Oh, God, that feels so good,” I heard Kim whisper, then as I began pushing a finger inside her she began repeating, “Yesss, Yesss, Yesss.”
After gently finger fucking her with just one finger, I pushed a second finger inside her.
I was amazed how tight she was, even with her natural lubrication and the benefit of the baby oil.
“Ohh, Ohh, Yes,” she gasped, “Please don’t stop, please don’t stop. I can feel it, I’m so close.”
I began moving both fingers in and out, while twisting those fingers from left to right.
By now Kim was just moaning non-stop, with her hips moving up and down and left and right as she rubbed herself against my thigh.
When I reached under with my other hand and began rubbing her clitoris ... well, that is all it took and she almost exploded.
“Ahhhhh,” she softly screamed into the couch. The muscles of her vagina were alternately tightening and loosening on my fingers.
I stopped for a few minutes, allowing Kim to come back down, before once again fingering her with my two digits.
Within just a minute or two I could tell she was close again, so I again began rubbing her clitoris with my other hand.
Her second climax was even stronger as she again screamed against the couch.
I again stopped for a few minutes to allow Kim to recover, but this time she began gasping: “What are you doing to me? I’ve never felt ANYTHING like that before!”
I continued my actions with my fingers inside her vagina and knew she was close to a third orgasm.
When I began rubbing her clitoris she had her most powerful orgasm and screamed even louder.
I could feel the muscles of her vagina clamp down on my fingers and then loosen, clamp down and loosen. When I felt her muscles loosen again, I reached up and pulled the butt plug from her anus. It made a loud “pop” as I removed it.
“Ahhhhhhhh,” she screamed again, but I could tell it wasn’t from pain as she had a fourth orgasm.
Her puckered anus was gaping open and I could see inside some angry red flesh.
As Kim lay across my lap gasping, I told her I needed to try to put some oil inside her.
I picked up the bottle of baby oil and just drizzled some directly inside her anus, then used a finger from my other hand to begin spreading the oil inside her.
As my finger began spreading the oil around inside her, Kim’s hips began moving again.
I still had my first two fingers deep inside her, so I began alternating. I would push my finger inside her anus while pulling the two fingers out of her vagina, then reverse the action.
It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes before the walls of her anus were closing down around my single finger, then Kim had her fifth orgasm of the day.
This one was very gentle -- at least compared to the others, but strangely I felt in some ways it was the most satisfying to Kim.
When Kim started to try to get up, I told her “Not yet.”
“I need to try to clean you up a little first,” I advised her, then added with a big smile. “Right now you have enough baby oil on your bottom that if you tried to sit down, you would probably slide all the way outside and down the driveway.”
She didn’t say anything but laughed, then started looking back at me in a way I found difficult to explain.
It was a look of exhaustion, total contentment, relaxation, joy and ... lust?
“I trust you COMPLETELY, John,” she said. This was the first time she had ever used my given name. Usually it was Mr. C, or sometimes Mr. Carpenter.
Then Kim gave me one of her thousand mega-watt smiles and added, “Anything you say ... or want ... John, ANYTHING you want. I trust you completely,” before lying face down on the couch again.
At that particular moment I don’t think there was anything ... ANYTHING ... I wanted more than to ditch my shorts and start making love to this beautiful young woman.
She had already told me that I could do anything to her.
The fact of the matter is, after nearly 30 minutes with Kim laying across my lap and using my fingers to bring her to multiple orgasms I had perhaps the most raging hard-on I have ever had in my life.
I was so hard I was amazed it hadn’t burst through my shorts and I knew Kim could feel it pressing against her lower stomach.
Instead I grabbed a washcloth and dipped it into the bucket of hot water.
Actually, after 30 minutes the water wasn’t hot any longer, but was still warm. After wringing out the excess water I added a little soap and began washing her back and legs, where I had massaged the baby oil into her.
She almost immediately began softly sighing and I could both feel and see her rubbing herself against me.
When I washed between her butt cheeks and across her puckered anus I felt Kim tense up, then almost immediately relax again as she spread her legs even further apart.
“Anything ... anything you want, John,” she repeated.
Oh God! Anything I wanted!
What I wanted was to bury my face between her legs, fill her sweet pussy with my tongue, lap her puckered anus and then slam my dick into all three holes of this beautiful woman!
She had already given me permission to do all three things and the most difficult thing I have ever done in my life was to ignore the beast within me, the beast that wanted me to take this woman and use her as my personal plaything.
My self-control was slipping away and I knew I was only minutes, probably seconds away from throwing her down on the couch and letting the beast take over.
Instead, I somehow rinsed off the cloth and began removing the soap from her incredibly beautiful back, butt and thighs.
The entire time she continued to sigh and moan.
She would stop occasionally and repeat, “Anything you want, John, ANYTHING.”
That really wasn’t helping my self-control.
Once I had most of the baby oil and soap off, I just continued to stare at this young girl’s butt, completely exposed to me. It was the most perfect butt I had ever seen, and I knew I could make it mine if I now wanted.
Finally, I just shook my head and tried to speak. I was so horny it took me a couple of times just to be able to say anything.
“Now, Kim, I think you need to rest. Try to sleep.”
She immediately turned around until her naked butt was in my lap, resting against my raging erection. I again could see her quick grimace when her abused butt brushed up against me.
As I looked into her face I could again see mixed emotions in her eyes. Lust? Definitely. But I could also see how tired she was. I could tell she was exhausted. The combination of the extreme pain she had suffered all morning, the effects of the prolonged massage, the multiple orgasms she had already had, plus the muscle relaxer pills had her eyes drooping.
“What about you, John?” she asked, then smiled shyly. “I can feel (and she wiggled against me) that you need some ... some relief, too.”
“Kim, I told you I would not take advantage of you. Actually, I already feel I have taken advantage of you, but right now you need to rest, take a nap. If you still feel the same way in a couple of hours, then we can see where the rest of the afternoon takes us.
“I don’t want you to feel you ‘owe’ me something. Friends don’t take advantage of friends.
“Let’s just see what the rest of the day brings, but right now I want you to sleep. Sleep, my beautiful young friend.”
Kim continued to stare into my eyes, and I could see the change in emotions.
Yes, there was still some lust mixed in with the exhaustion, but I could also see amazement that I was turning down her offer.
It was a situation that could easily have provoked anger, but I sensed no anger, rather something that looked like ... a deeper emotion?
After several minutes, Kim leaned over and put her head against my chest.
“Okay, John, I am suddenly very, very tired,” she said, then leaned back until she was looking into my eyes again. “But after I wake up ... you are going DOWN, Mister.”
Then she shyly laughed, “Actually, after I wake up ... I am going down. Down on you! And that is just for starters.”
Kim put her head back against my shoulders and within just a few minutes was sound asleep.
I continued to hold this beautiful young woman for several more minutes and kept hearing in my mind her final sleep-filled words to me, whispered softly, just before oblivion claimed her.
“I love you, John,” was her final comment to me.
I finally eased her down on her back on the couch. Her dress was still pulled up above her hips and I could now see all of her lower body.
I already knew, from having massaged her clit, that she was completely smooth, but to now see her nakedness in front of me caused another jolt through my penis.
I could already have been inside her, I thought to myself.
In fact, I could take her now and I knew she wouldn’t have complained.
Instead, I pulled the dress down, then went and found a small blanket and covered her up.
I know that most guys reading this would be thinking, “What a wuss!”
“He could have had a fantastic piece of pussy and a fantastic piece of ass and he turned it down,” would probably be what they are thinking.
For most of the women reading this, they would probably be thinking “What a gentleman. How noble not to take advantage of a woman at a time like this.”
Hell -- you are both wrong.
It didn’t have anything to do with being a wuss, or being a gentleman or being noble.
Even now, some 10 minutes after Kim was asleep, I still had the hardest hard-on I think I have ever had.
Earlier I said that I had stared at Kim when she came over to visit Megan. Actually, that might not be strong enough a word.
I have a heated in-ground pool behind the house.
My wife died about a year-and-a-half ago and for the first year Kim and Megan both moved in after they graduated from college. Kim moved out about six months ago, but during that first year the two beautiful girls had used the pool almost every day -- summer or winter. Megan still lived in the house with me.
They both wore bikinis that would be barely legal on a public beach. And some that probably would be illegal.
The fact is ... I didn’t just stare at Kim (and yes, Megan too). I admit I lusted after them both. And would sometimes fantasize as well.
I have lost count of the number of times I would be fantasizing about one or the other ... sometimes both ... and wake up from a wet dream and have to change my underwear.
Kim still came over to the house two or three times a week -- and she and Megan still used the pool every time she came over.
Having lusted after Kim for so long and today have given her a massage and using my fingers in both her pussy and butt to give her multiple orgasms, I knew that if Kim had even touched me once ... I would probably have cum immediately. I was that turned on. When she wiggled her butt against me it was all I could do to hold off.
Cumming all over her, 10 seconds after she touched me? That was my fear today.
When ... or if ... but, based on comments to me just now, probably when we made love, I wanted it to last longer than 10 seconds.
I immediately headed for my shower since I was still sweaty and stinky from having mowed my lawn that morning and while in the shower I took care of the immediate problem I had.
Just thinking about Kim while in the shower ... Wow! Yes, I lasted a little longer than 10 seconds ... but not by much.
After the shower I went back into the living room and grabbed the towels, washcloths, bucket of now cold water ... and the butt plug. I admit I was very curious why the plug had caused Kim such extreme pain.
After cleaning and examining the plug I understood. And was filled with rage. If I could have gotten my hands on Kim’s boyfriend at that moment ... I could easily have killed him with my bare hands.
I don’t think I have ever been so mad in my life before.
I knew I had to calm down. I had already put on a nice pair of shorts and a t-shirt, so I grabbed a beer from the refrigerator and tried to make myself calm down. First, however, I slipped the butt plug into one of the pockets of the cargo shorts.
I suppose at some point I need to introduce myself. I mean you already know my name, John Carpenter, and that I spent three years in the Marines but there is a lot more to tell.
First though, you need to understand a couple of things about me and my family. You might want to write some of this down -- there may be a test later.
Some people simply are genetically predisposed to grey hair. That is definitely the truth in my family. By the time each of my older brothers graduated from their respective high schools they were already losing some hair on top, and most of what was left was turning grey.
That also applies to me. There is nothing I could do about it and the thought of coloring my hair was ridiculous.
The second thing you need to know about my family is that my two older brothers are 18 and 12 years older than I am.
My childhood nickname, given to me by my oldest brother was “Dent.” That is short for accident, and a name I really hated.
My mother always said I wasn’t an accident. I might have been unplanned, but the truly nicest things in life are the ones that are complete surprises. So, stuff it up your ass, Jack and Sam!
When I was born, my father was 45, and my mother was 38. Again, just as in the case of my premature greying hair, my father’s age will come into play in a few minutes.
My great-grandfather started Carpenter Printing Company in Marietta, Georgia on October 29, 1929. That date also happens to coincide with the beginning of The Great Depression.
Somehow he kept the business going and by the time the country was recovering in 1941 the business was becoming moderately successful.
Real success began after World War II started.
It didn’t take long for the military to realize they needed more plants dedicated to building bombers, so when Bell Industries built a plant in Marietta (The Bell Bomber plant which was the forerunner of the massive Lockheed plant, now the Lockheed-Martin plant), my great-grandfather was one of the few printers in the area capable of handling all their printing.
My grandfather had joined the Marines on December 8, 1941 (the day after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor), and after the war began working at the printing company.
My father had received his draft notice during the Vietnam War and instead enlisted in the Marines.
After serving two tours in ‘Nam, he also returned home and joined the family business.
By the time both of my brothers graduated from high school, it was obvious neither was interested in printing as a way of making a living.
Jack is now a very successful attorney and Sam is a surgeon.
From my earlier comments you might have the impression the three of us didn’t get along. Nothing could be further from the truth. We tease each other non-stop.
I call Jack an “ambulance-chaser” and say he is the “black sheep” of the family because he is an attorney.
Sam is “the local butcher.”
And yes, both still call me “Dent.”
All three of us know, however, that the others would do anything for each other.
I was the only one interested in the printing company. In fact I loved everything about printing.
Everyone knew that I would be the fourth-generation Carpenter to take over the business.
First though, I wanted to spend a few years in the military and since it was by now almost a family tradition, I enlisted in the Marines.
A large part of the reason I joined the military was because neither of my older brothers had. If it wasn’t good enough for them, then it WAS good enough for me.
After I received my medical discharge from the Marines, I joined the family business as well. In point of fact, I had literally grown up in the business and could run any of the presses well before my teenage years.
About a year after my discharge I was at work when this really attractive woman stopped by to get some business cards printed.
Back then, it was only a few months after one of the surgeries on my knee, so I was using a cane to get around.
I took the order, then told her they would be ready the following Monday (she brought the order in on Thursday).
She immediately said she needed the cards by that afternoon, or at the latest, very early the next morning since she had to go out of town on a business meeting. I then explained that we weren’t a quick copy place and that it would take at least a couple of days.
I have to admit that I was more than just a little smitten with this young lady. I was guessing she was a couple of years older than me, but didn’t think that would really matter.
When she offered to pay double, I made a deal with her.
If ... IF ... I could have the cards printed by that afternoon, then she agreed to go out with me that night.
We actually flirted with each other the entire time she was in the printing company.
When she came back, the cards were ready and Mary and I went to a very nice restaurant that night. I found out that Mary was a sales rep with a large pharmaceutical company. She had been with the company two years.
I was doing the math in my head. I knew she had graduated from Georgia Tech, so that would have made her about 22 when she graduated. Two years with the drug company, so now she would be 24.
Perfect. I was 22, but because of the grey and thinning hair most people thought I was much older than that.
I am sure the cane I was then using probably added some to my perceived age.
During the course of our conversation at the printing company we had already exchanged names and when I told her mine, she asked if I owned the company.
I had explained that my great-grandfather had started the company, then my grandfather ran it and after him, my father.
I also told her that Dad had already reached retirement age and although he still came in a couple of days a week, I was now running the business.
I really didn’t think about the fact that Mary might also be doing some mental math in her head as well, trying to guess how old I was.
We had a great time at dinner and we actually kissed. I mean it was just barely touching our lips together, but it was wonderful.
The following Tuesday (after she was back from her weekend business trip) we had dinner again and this time we kissed a little longer, before parting for the evening.
During the first two dates, she had insisted on meeting at the restaurant and I really didn’t think anything about it.
During our third dinner date (on Thursday of that week), I could tell something was bothering her.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I haven’t been completely honest, John,” she answered.
“The fact is, I really like you, but was afraid to tell you the truth. Usually, anytime I tell a guy that I am a single mom, they panic and start running,” she said, almost in tears. “I have a daughter.”
I immediately reached over and took both her hands in mine.
“You don’t ever have to worry about my running, Mary,” I assured her. “As you said, the fact is I really, really like you too.
“In fact, I’ll prove to you that I’ll never run,” I added, then reached down to where my cane was lying on the floor. Then I handed her my cane.
“See, now I can’t run even if I wanted to ... and believe me, I don’t want to.”
Mary started laughing and crying. And that night we did a lot of kissing!
The next day (Friday), Mary called me at work and asked if I wanted to meet her daughter, Megan.
I, of course, said yes. I have had to meet a few parents in my time, but this was the first time I would ever have to meet a daughter.
During my lunch break I actually drove over to Toys R Us, and picked up a small stuffed animal I thought would be appropriate for a young girl aged anywhere from two to possibly five years old.
Mary had never said, and I had forgotten to ask exactly how old her daughter was, but assuming Mary was two years older than me, and I am guessing had probably been in college when she had her, I came up with the first estimate of two or three.
Yes, I might have been off a year, or even possibly two, but felt the small stuffed animal would still be appropriate even if she was as old as five.
Little did I know!!!!
Mary said the simplest thing would be for her to come by the printing company and I could follow her in my vehicle.
When we drove up in her yard, I was a little surprised there were no other vehicles there.
Mary had mentioned that her mother stayed with Megan while Mary worked.
I was soon to find out what she had actually said was that her mom stayed with Megan while Mary was working late, or out of town.
I know that some woman somewhere will immediately say this just proves that men don’t really listen to women.
Hey, I was a little distracted. Mary was about 5’7” and I guessed around 125 pounds. Very slim and slender, with long blonde hair and silver gray eyes with little gold flecks in them.
The kind of eyes that seemed to be bottomless, that you could just fall into and never climb out again. Very, very distracting eyes.
“Are Megan and your mom not here yet?” I asked, when we both got out of our vehicles.
Mary looked very surprised, and said, “No, she only stays here if I am going to be out of town, or working very, very late. Other than that, Megan looks after herself.”
Now I was the one who was very surprised.
What kind of mom would let a two or three year old, even possibly a five year old stay by herself?
When we walked into the house, I got one of the biggest shocks of my life.
I was expecting a toddler ... I got a teenager.
Well ... technically I was to find out a 12-year-old, but close enough.
When I found out how old Megan was, I sort of just exploded at Mary with: “Good God, did YOU get pregnant when you were 12!”
Mary flushed red, then replied with some heat in her voice: “What on earth are you talking about? I had Megan when I was 20.”
“Twenty? Twenty? That’s impossible!” I answered back, a little testily. “I know you are a few years older than me, but that would make you 32!”
“Older than you? Older than you?” she shot back. “You are the one with grey hair and you said your father had already reached retirement age. That should make you in your late 30s or early 40s.”
“You thought I was in my late 30s??? Or even worse, early 40s???” I answered, much quieter than before. “Oh crap, Mary. I thought you were around 24 or 25. I mean you said you had worked for your company two years, and I assumed you had probably just graduated from college which, I thought, would make you 24 or 25. I also guessed Megan would be two or three.”
“Yes, I have worked for my present company two years. I worked for my former company eight years before that. Uhh, just how old are you, John?” Mary asked, very quietly also.
“Well, I’m 22,” I finally answered and Mary’s face turned white as if she had seen a ghost.
The entire time we had been talking, Megan’s head was snapping back and forth between us, almost like she was watching a tennis match.
I heard this unusual noise and when I turned to look at Megan she was laughing so hard she was doubled over.
Mary and I just stared at her, until she had finally recovered enough to talk.
“You thought I was two or three and you thought Mom was 24 or 25,” she said, beginning to laugh again, “and Mom thought you were in your late 30s, but actually you are just 22. You both are NUTS! The two of you are better than any comedy on television.”