Chapter 3: Bradford

I was beginning to believe that Cynthia was a trooper. She did at least her part in our daily living and she coddled me when I was hurt and slightly disabled for a day. She will still have to change bandages tonight. Maybe by tomorrow, I will get these off my fingers so that I can do it myself.

She fixed a tasty green salad and steamed some broccoli while I grilled the chickens. We watched the evening news as we ate dinner. She had some nice Australian white wine and heated some hard rolls. Much better than I usually made and beyond comparison to the TV dinners I often fixed for myself.

I muted the commercial and raised my glass to her. "Thanks Babe, for the tasty dinner. I know you're spending more time at this than you did at the house and I appreciate all the effort."

"You're most welcome. When I lived with Blair, I had to do it all. He didn't know how to help and didn't want to learn. Unlike you, he never lived in an apartment with a kitchen. I don't think his mother taught him much either."

"His loss. I don't mind helping at all. When I lived alone, I had to do it all, or go out, or bring stuff home. It's a lot nicer to share it with you."

As we watched the news, I noticed that the situation in Afghanistan was deteriorating. The central government was unable to secure the country and the Taliban were making inroads in the remote areas, mostly in the south and east.

After spending more than a year in the country, I concluded that the task of bringing any form of democracy to the country was even more formidable than I originally thought. We could kill many of the Taliban fighters, but unless we could inject a change in the political influence of the religious fanatics who were creating more fighters every day, it would be an endless battle. I read a lot about Viet Nam and felt that we were once again unprepared to fight this kind of war.

She took my hand and said, "You seem troubled by the news. What's getting to you?"

"The news about Afghanistan. We spent a lot of money and suffered many casualties in that war. Each night, I see that the enemy is regaining power in many of the places we thought the government and the warlords had secured. The Taliban are fighting a religious war and will have virtually an endless supply of fighters. They can make them faster than we can kill them"

"That sounds so brutal. Your only thought is to kill them?"

"They haven't seen any need to negotiate. It's a holy war. They win by dying for the cause. The poppy business is as good as it was before we went in and the Taliban are reaping the profits."

"What hope is there?"

"I hate to be a pessimist, but I don't see any progress toward reducing the religious hatred. When I wear my Hawk hat, I agree with the people who wanted to provide weapons and training to the Afghan women. The Taliban has no respect for women and often rape them. If women had weapons, they might reduce the number of rapes — and the number of Taliban. Who knows?"

"That sounds grim, but I'm all for letting the women protect themselves. Everything I read about the Taliban is almost grotesque."

"Yeah, and that's the good news. They're even worse than that."

She took the plates and brought us some grapes for dessert. I pulled her down for a kiss and thanked her for the fruit. I said, "You go do your work and I'll load the dishes and clean up."

We managed to get about three hours of schoolwork after dinner. Any other Friday night, I would have been out enjoying the nightlife and seeking female company. Regardless of our situation, I liked having her for my girlfriend every day and did not miss hitting the clubs in search of a thrill. Maybe I was too comfortable and I feared being domesticated. We were getting good at planning and coordinating our schedules and lives. It seemed almost unreal.

I heard her yawn and then say, "You know, I'm not being efficient studying. I think it is time for me to go to bed. Are you ready?"

"I'm dragging, too. Sounds like a good idea."

"I'll change your bandages and do my nightly routine. Go and get ready and then come back. I'll do mine after I do you."

It was a thrill when she removed the old bandages, some of which stuck a little. The tape pulled the hairs out. I gasped and she laughed. "Gotcha."

"I have a long memory, Cynthia. You'd better never get scratched up."

She slowly pulled a piece of tape off my body. "Well, I don't have this awful hair all over my body. I don't have many places where you would find any. I get my bikini waxing done at the salon, so there isn't much there, either."

When we retired, she kept her promise. Within seconds, she had me in her mouth bringing me back to life. As soon as it was suitably hard, she climbed on and skewered herself on it. Although it was slightly painful on my knees and chest, I managed to stay with her until she had a rather intense climax. She resumed her hip rotations and brought me off rather quickly. I think neither of us wanted a long session tonight.

After we made breakfast Saturday morning, we sat around to read and work on our computers. We could both work on the Internet at the same time over the network I set up. The doorbell rang and I went to see that it was Laura's girls.

""To what do I owe this pleasure, ladies?"

"Mom is making Lasagna for dinner and she wants you and Cynthia to eat with us. Can you come?"

I looked at Cynthia and she seemed puzzled, but nodded approval. "Tell Laura that we'd be delighted. What time?"

"She said six-thirty or so. The Lasagna doesn't have to come out exactly on time."

"We'll see you then." I patted both of their heads as they ran down the stairs.

I put my hands on Cynthia's shoulders and said, "I hope you're okay with the dinner. She makes mean Lasagna."

"I'm just trying to fit in."

"I'm glad you are trying. They're good people. Since I have a few hours, I think I'll try to repair my bike. I need to get back on it and not develop an aversion for the road."

"It frightens me that you're going back out there riding, but I guess you have to."

When I found the bicycle, the front wheel was off and bent. At least, I could go have that fixed. Although my shoulder and hand hurt when I lifted it into the truck, I was able to steer and shift well enough to feel safe driving.

The bike mechanic looked at the wheel carefully and confirmed that I needed a new one. As he held it under the shop light, he asked, "What did you hit? Looks like dog hair on the tire."

I had an instant flashback of trying to stop for the dog. My first memory of the accident. Before, no matter how hard I tried, I could only remember back as far as kissing Cynthia as I left. She teased me about the tight pants. Everything else was virtually blank.

I took the tire with me and sat in the truck while I called police headquarters to obtain a copy of the accident report. All I had to do was show up in person with ID and ask for a copy. As I looked over the report, I saw the name of the witness who had reported the accident. I felt like I was getting somewhere in recovering my memory.

The witness confirmed on the phone that a vicious dog ran in front of me. I hit the dog and went over the handlebars to the street. Again, I had a fleeting memory, but nothing clear. Then he said, "That's not the first time that damn dog's caused trouble." After thanking him profusely for calling 911, I drove out to the address on the accident report. I had an eerie feeling when I saw my dried blood on the pavement.

After all the excitement, I went home to take a rest. Cynthia was studying. I thought I should get away more so that she could have some space. She ran over to me, "Where have you been, Charles. I worried."

"I think I'm OK. Just tired and I'm going to rest." I flopped on the bed.

She came over and snuggled up to me, "After what happened, I worry when you leave for so long. I know that I'm spacey, but I'd like it if you called every couple of hours until I get used to it."

"I can do that. Didn't mean to worry you. Anyway, here is what I found out." And then, I told her the whole story, including my blood on the pavement. She read the accident report.

Wincing, "I can't even think about that blood on the pavement. We had enough of it here." She reflected for a while, then, "What are you going to do?"

"I was just going out there and ask the guy about the dog."

"I vaguely remember some accident hassle my father was in. He tried to handle it himself and really messed up. If you don't have a lawyer, I think you should go see Anniston. If he can't handle it, he will send you to someone who can. I know you don't like him, but he's good. You don't have to like him. I fear that if that guy has such a mean dog, he has a gun, too."

I thought about that in my confused state, and then slowly drifted to sleep savoring her welcoming kiss and relishing in her snuggle.

In the morning, I was writing my "after action" report, summarizing my findings and making notes on what to do next. After saving the notes in My Documents, I put all the papers in a folder and put it in my file drawer. Cynthia was reading in bed.

She hopped up and warmed my morning with a slightly painful hug and delicious wet kiss. I shiver when she looks directly into my eyes and smiles. Then, she said, "May I borrow your truck for a while. I want to go to the house and get my bike and a few things and I don't want those dirty bike wheels in my car."

"Of course. I assume you're comfortable with the stick shift."

"I've driven a five-speed many times before and besides, didn't I shift gears on the way home from Hendersonville?"

I brought her to me and said, "Yes, you did. First time since high school that a pretty girl sat close to me and shifted my gears. I've been in motion ever since."

"Oh, thank you. My sisters will be envious when they see me driving a real vehicle."

We went to Laura's house about six-thirty. I brought a tall bottle of red wine for the festivities, although I was a little nervous about the relationship between Cynthia and Laura. After the hugs and greetings, I opened the wine and poured a glass for each of us. Although Cynthia had impeccable social skills, she seemed edgy. We sipped our wine for a few minutes and then Cynthia asked if she could help.

Laura smiled and said, "Sure. Want to work on the salad?"

Their chatter started slowly and I think Cynthia was weighing each word carefully to be proper. I refreshed their wine and sat to talk with Ashley and Alyssa. After a short time, I noticed the loudness of their conversation edging up and even heard a laugh or two as they chatted. I heard Cynthia say something about Louie's. Then, I heard part of another sentence. " ... Yes, he came all the way out there to get me and then he..." About that time, the girls were talking too loud for me to follow.

Cynthia came into the den and kissed me then said, "Okay, you guys, time to wash your hands."

The girls dragged me up off the couch and toward the bathroom. They giggled at me as I washed my hands, and I tickled them as they did their own. Shortly, we were sitting down to eat. Cynthia sat next to me and Laura was at the head of the table with Cynthia on her right. I asked each of the girls to tell about her day and we all listened as the dramas unfolded.

Alyssa said, "Cynthia, Bradford is going to come and watch me play soccer. Will you come with him?"

Cynthia smiled, and replied, "I wouldn't miss it. I played in high school and loved every minute of it. If I don't have a class, I'll come and cheer for you."

Alyssa beamed. "Super. Did you ever play, Bradford?"

"No, I played football and swam, but never soccer. I doubt that I could even kick the ball."

I was surprised when Cynthia said, "We'll have to show him how sometime. He needs to learn new games."

The table conversation continued on a lively note and we all seemed comfortable. I quit worrying about Cynthia, as she seemed to hit it off with Laura quite well. If she was telling her secrets about our relationship and her marriage situation, I guess they were relating. I managed to keep their wine glasses filled and that seemed to oil the earlier tension.

Cynthia excused herself to use the bathroom. When she closed the door, Laura said, "I like your girlfriend. She worries about me, but I think she will get over that."

"That's good to know. I prefer not to have friction between my close friends when it shouldn't be there."

"I'll ask her to go do a girls' lunch next week if she can work around her classes. My girls seem to like her. I hope we can keep it up."

Cynthia came back smiling and took our plates to the kitchen. Laura went immediately to help her. Laura said, "This is usually the girls' duty. Go sit and relax and I'll serve some fruit while they load the dishwasher."

When Cynthia sat beside me, I leaned in and ask, "How are you doing?"

"Much better than I thought. I like Laura and I find the girls interesting. I won't mind spending some time getting to know her."

I kissed her cheek. "I'm happy about that. You're both dear to me and I hoped you'd like each other."

"I must tell you that I was relieved when I learned that she was unavailable for a relationship."

"Yeah. She can't find someone to have a relationship with and can't go out in public lest her former husband learn about it."

Laura came in with the fruit and some cookies. She poured the coffee and we talked as we enjoyed our dessert. I tried to keep the girls in the conversation until they asked permission to watch TV. We lingered over the coffee and talked about many current topics of interest.

When it was time to go, Laura hugged us both. Cynthia took her hand and said how much she enjoyed herself away from the heavy issues of the day and schoolwork. She then said, "We'll have to get together sometime and get to know each other."

"I'll call you next week and see what we can work out. Since I'm home most of the time, I don't have a crowded calendar."

As we walked upstairs, she said, "I can cook a few things and I will have them over some night. When I was the age of the girls, we used to play board games sometimes. Maybe they'd like that."

"That would be very nice of you. Soccer? I learn more about you every day. I'd like to see you play."

She laughed, "I did okay, but didn't make all state. Maybe I can practice with Alyssa sometime and see if I remember anything about the game." She put her arms around me and said, "I dreaded going over there. I felt threatened that she would be here with you all the time. I feel a lot better knowing that she can't be your girlfriend."

I looked at her directly. "Cynthia, when you get your life in order, I want you to be my serious girl friend. You are my first choice. I have no meaningful second choice and I'm not going to look for anyone new until we decide what we have together."

"I understand and I want to give us a try. Although we've known each other for a good while, we haven't been together except for the past couple of weeks. When I was single, I took on more duties at the house and I will have to be there some of the time. However, we don't have long until this term is over." She paused and cocked her head. "Then, we have to figure out what to do next."

"It's getting late. Let's go to bed and think about the future with clear heads."

"Yes, we can do what we need to do tonight without clear minds. Tomorrow, we have to start."

I was getting comfortable with her nightly routine and I did my own, which was considerably less complicated. I made the coffee and climbed into the bed. She stood by the bed and undressed slowly, knowing that I liked her to tease me. She smiled and moved her body sensually while removing one garment at a time.

Smiling down at me, she said, "I saw a story in the campus paper a while back that our gym is going to offer a class in pole dancing. Lots of gyms now do it. I think I'll give it a try." She was almost taunting me, "If I learn how to do the dance, will you erect a pole for me?"

"I already have one pole erected. What kind do you want?"

"A brass one just like the fire department has. Have you ever been to one of those bars where the girls dance on the pole?"

I paused and hesitated. "Yes I have and enjoyed every minute of it."

"How many times?"

"I didn't keep count. Several. Some of the dancers are damn good looking. Not quite in your league, but good anyway."

She looked flirty over her shoulder and said, "I'm not sure I want to do it for a career, but I'd like to do it a few times."

"You're serious?"

"Hey, we're sharing hopes and dreams. I went only once, but I think I can get the hang of it."

"I'm sure you could. I'll bet you could make a bundle of tip money."

She opened her legs and looked down. "Would I have to shave my pussy?"

"That's a question I can't answer. Most of the dancers I've seen were bare, which is a conflict for me. I like to see hair around a pussy — just like yours. Maybe I'm old fashioned."

She came to the bed. "You know talking about it makes me wet. I think the wine and this conversation is making me horny."

"Roll over here and I'll see if I can do anything about that."

In an instant, she climbed on top and settled herself all the way until our pubic hair was blending. She rocked slowly at first as I pinched her nipples and squeezed her breasts. She breathed heavily and said, "I love this position. You set my breasts on fire and I can make you go all the way in every stroke."

When we both achieved intense orgasms, she whimpered for a minute then fell on my chest kissing my face and neck. She whispered, "I hope I didn't hurt your bruises and scrapes."

"I'm not a hundred percent, but the small pains were more than worth it." She then rolled off me and we cuddled and slept through the night. One fact was clear. I slept much better when she was in my bed snuggled against me. My bruises hurt at first, but soon I drifted into a deep sleep.

Morning found us face-to-face, snuggled. Her eyes were on me when I opened mine. "Good morning, Charles. I hope you slept well."

"I seem always to sleep well when I'm cuddling you. Good morning to you."

"She smiled and said, "I know just how you feel. I haven't slept better in months than I do when you hold me. Waking up like this thrills me every time. When did you say this will all wear off?"

"Sometimes I say dumb things."

"That you do, but not in a long time. The coffee smells good. Let's go for it."

As we drank the coffee, I said, "Well I guess today you have to schedule our week and load our PDAs so we can be in sync. Your careful scheduling leaves a lot more time for working and playing."

"Thank you. I try hard. It would be a lot more fun if we could go out to events around the campus, but that will have to come later. I mean, I can do girls night out, but I don't need too many of those right now. I don't want to be out there trolling the nightspots like my friends are."

"I have an idea. An old friend of mine has a nice cabin out in the woods where we could have a lot of privacy. We could swim and fish, although it might be a little cool for swimming."

"Sounds interesting. We could get there without anyone seeing us?"

"We'll go after dark. It's only a two-hour drive. We can hide your car at a lot on the west side of town and you can hop in the truck just like last time."

"I'd like to get away. Sounds like a plan. I'm not putting that on the schedule, though. We'll have to remember. We can both buy extra groceries a couple of times and not be so obvious in the market." She picked up her PDA, and said, "Why don't you make us an omelet while I do the schedule?"

After breakfast, I was reviewing the schedule and noticed that she included two daytime lovemaking sessions during the week. "Wow. You are getting good. I like these daytime adventures. Breaks up the day nicely."

"I see lots of work time today. That's good. I need to go to the library. You can go later if you need to."

"Nope, I'm good for today. Maybe tomorrow night."

We read the paper in the morning and worked a while. After lunch, I kissed her good bye and went to the library. When I returned, she was working hard at her computer. I kissed her for a minute or so and she said, "I made great progress on that paper I received the extension on. I have to have it in on time and I'd really like to get it in a day or two early."

I brought some carry out food for dinner. Smoked chicken, coleslaw, and a baked potato. After we finished, she said, "I need a break. Can we watch something interesting on the TV?"

I surfed through the channels and found a good film. "Have you seen Il Postino? It's about a postman and a poet on an isolated island in Italy."

"It's been years. Can we see it again?"

"Of course. It starts in about fifteen minutes."

We watched the romantic story of the postman who enjoys the wisdom of the poet in helping to have a relationship with a beautiful woman. Although the ending caused us to squirm a little and sniffle, the mood was set and we had a wonderful lovemaking session.

As we readied ourselves for sleep, she faced me and said softly, "Charles, I don't know when I have ever been happier. I'm aware that we have some big issues, but I'm going to enjoy it while I can."

"You don't think people at your house will wonder about you? You've been gone for almost two weeks. Have you done this before?"

"No, I haven't done it before. My roommate helps keep off the questions. I'm sure that they wonder, though."

"It isn't a problem for me. I'm enjoying every minute. Kiss me good night and roll over so that I can wrap you up."

Monday, we went about our normal class schedules. I looked at my task list and had a little shiver when I saw that she had scheduled an afternoon delight. I wondered about her situation, but she was an adult and I should leave well enough alone. After lunch, my cell phone rang.

She sounded cheery. "Charles, darling, scroll down on your Monday task list. See where it says 'make passionate love to Cynthia' at four o'clock? OK, that is now moved to 5:30. It has to be a quickie, because I have to go to the house at 6:30. At four, please meet me at my lawyer's, which is right down the street from Starbucks. His name is Edward Anniston and the address is 1045. He wants to talk to us both. Will you come?"

Despite her upbeat tone, I could hear the nervousness. I replied, "I have wanted you all day, but I will go lawyering at four."

Anniston frowned as we held hands on his couch. Then, in his officious superior tone, he started, "Mr. Bradford, Cynthia Wharton wants to dissolve her marriage to Blair Wharton. This will take time. Among other questions, I asked her if she were having an affair and she told me about you." He obviously disapproved. Then, in a dramatic tone, "Blair does not now know who you are and that you took his wife. I hope we can keep him from finding out." Interesting way of putting it.