Gender: Male Age: 55 Location: N/A
|Introduction: One more try at love for Dan|
One thing I’ve learned writing, “Loving Wives,” stories, no matter how you end them, you’re always going to disappoint someone. When I started this story I said it was an accurate account of the crumbling of a marriage.
For those of you who will give me one star because of the end, please keep in mind this is life, and life doesn’t always work out the way you think it should or the way we want.
With that in mind, I hope you enjoy the fourth, and last chapter.
The night that was
I picked it up on the second ring. “This is Dan Taylor, can I help you?”
“Hi Dan,” came the concerned voice from the other end, “how are you?”
“Hi Bev. I’m okay I guess. At least I think I am. One thing I’ve learned though, when ever I hear that anxious tone in your voice, I’m never as good as I think I am. What’s the matter, Bev?”
There was a short silence from the other end. “Dan, you’re getting to know me way too well,” she said with a small chuckle.
“Bev, you’ve been the best friend a person could ever have. You’ve been able to keep both Diane and me informed of the other‘s needs, you’ve been there for both of us when we needed you, and you’ve done it without alienating either of us. That takes a special talent and a true friend.”
“Thank you, Dan. That’s very nice of you to say. I love you both, you know that. If there was only a way…”
I knew where she was going. She did love us both and wished there was some way she could get Diane and me back together.
“Bev,” I interrupted her, “I know what you’re going to say, it would never work, you know that.”
“I know Dan. Anyway that’s not why I’m calling you. While I was at the house yesterday Diane and the girls were having a conversation. Amy and Marsha wanted Diane to ask you something but Diane said they would have to ask you themselves.”
“Ask me what, Bev. The girls know they can ask me anything, anything at all.”
“Well,” her voice sounding sadder now than when she first called. “The reason Diane is forcing the girls to ask you is because she is hoping they’ll chicken out. She knows their question is going to break you heart.”
Now it was my turn to be silent. I knew what the question was. The girls were getting so big. Amy was now fourteen and Marsha was eleven. Amy was growing into a beautiful young woman and Marsha was taking a real interest in music. Except for a couple of times, they had spent every week-end with me, but I knew it was just a matter of time before they wanted to spend their week-ends pursuing their own interests. I feared that time was here.
“They don’t want to spend the week-ends with me anymore, do they?”
“Dan it isn’t they don’t want to spend any week-ends with you anymore, just not every one of them, Maybe once a month or so.”
“Okay,” I just didn’t have anymore words to say.
“Dan, I’m sorry. I know how much those week-ends mean to you, but they are growing up.”
“Yeah, I know Bev.” Tears were forming in my eyes.
“Dan, maybe this will give you a little more time to date. You really need to get out there again. I know you’ve had your troubles in that regard, but believe it or not Dan, there are good women out there.”
“Yeah Bev, but you’re taken,” I said jokingly. It had been a little over three years since my last heart break. Eileen’s betrayal had me questioning my future with any woman. Week-ends with my daughters had been a great distraction from a lot of lonely week-nights. It was also a great excuse as to why I wasn’t dating anyone. Truth was…I was scared to death.
“Dan,” Bev’s voice broke me out of my thoughts, “the girls are literally anguishing over this. It would be nice if you could stop by the house tonight on your way home and let them off the hook.”
“Yeah, absolutely,” I said.
“Dan, I am sorry, I know how much this hurts, I can hear it in your voice. Please, please take the opportunity to find someone, or at least do some dating. Jim was threatening, the other day, to send a hooker over to you, just so you could get laid.” Bev was doing her best to cheer me up a little.
“Maybe you’re right, I don’t know, we’ll see. I will stop at the house tonight and talk to the girls.”
“Okay, thanks Dan. Please, hang in there. You’re a great guy, I know she’s out there Dan.”
Later that day I headed for my former house. The car guided through the suburban streets like it remembered the way. I pulled into the drive, sat in my car and just sighed to myself. One by one it seemed like parts of my old life were being chipped away. The problem was, I had nothing new in my life to fill in those empty spots. Maybe Bev was right, I thought. I do need to find someone. I knew she was right, there were plenty of great women out there, all I had to do was find one.
Diane heard me in the drive and was already opening the door for me as I walked in. I knew immediately she had talked to Bev. She stood in front of me, looked up and rubbed my chest with her hand. This was a familiar gesture. When we were married she did it when ever she knew I had a difficult decision to make. You could almost read the words in her eyes. ’I know how hard this is for you.’ The words were never spoken, the look in her face said it all.
I forced a grin and nodded my head. That was my own unspoken message that I was okay.
“Listen,” she said, “I bought an extra steak for tonight. How about staying for dinner?”
“Thanks, I’d like that,” I answered.
The girls must have heard my voice and came walking down the stairs a little sheepishly. I couldn’t help but to admire their courage. I knew they didn’t want to tell me. They knew how much I treasured my time with them and what they were about to ask me was going to hurt.
They could have stalled or stayed up stairs, but they came down to face what they had to do. As much as I was aching inside, I was also very proud of my two young ladies.
I could tell Diane was proud as well. She looked at the them, then back at me. She patted my chest a couple of times. I knew her idiosyncrasies so well. I knew the double pat meant she was going to leave me alone with Amy and Marsha and that’s just what she did. She turned and headed for the kitchen.
The girls came over and both hugged me at the same time.
“Daddy,” Amy, being the oldest, started the talking, “can we talk to you a minute?”
I wasn’t about to torture them any longer. Who knew how long they had been wrestling with the problem of telling me. I spoke up right away.
“Ladies,” I said trying to keep my voice up beat, “I already know what you want to say.”
The girls looked shocked but I think a bit relieved as well.
“Come on over to the couch so we can talk,” I said.
Marsha took my hand and we all sat down. “Girls of course you can spend the week-ends doing what you want to do. I’m a little surprised that you didn’t think you could ask me though.”
Amy was sitting on the arm of the couch with her arms wrapped around my neck. She reached over and kissed me on the cheek. “Well we were afraid we’d hurt you feelings dad.”
“Ladies, as much as I wish I could keep you as little girls, I can’t. You’re growing up. You both have interests, things you want to do on your own. I understand that. Please, don’t ever worry about asking or telling me anything ever again.”
Both girls hugged me around the neck almost pulling me in two different directions at once.
Just then I felt a hand on shoulder. Diane leaned down from behind the couch and spoke softly into my ear.
“I have coffee made, or would you rather have a vodka and tonic about now,” she said with a smile.
She must have talked to Bev right after our conversation. We never kept liquor in the house. I knew, between the vodka and the extra steak, she made a special trip to the store just for me. I almost felt guilty not taking the drink, but I didn’t like to drink in front of the kids. Not that I was trying to hide anything from them but I felt it was always better to lead by example.
“Just the coffee for right now,” I said, “thanks.”
It turned out to be a nice evening. After dinner I helped the kids with their homework. There was still a little time left before bed so we all sat around and watched some TV.
After we both put the girls to bed, Diane told me I could come over any time during the week and spend time with them. On the way out she gave me the unopened liquor bottles.
“Here,” she said with a kiss on the cheek, “I know you’re going to want this later.”
I had to admit, Diane was a great ex-wife.
That evening I sat in the silence of my own home, and was now sipping a vodka and tonic. All my life I always tried to maintain an up beat attitude never letting anything get me down for too long. I was always joking around and trying to make people laugh. There were times though, when I just couldn’t help being a little melancholy. This was one of those times.
I was remembering the good times with Diane. Hell, they weren’t good, they were great. For so many years we were so much in love, so happy together. I just couldn’t figure out how we lost that.
There was a time when I just couldn’t wait to get home to her loving arms. Just the touch of those soft lips on mine when I walked in the door made me the happiest man on earth. I would give anything to recapture that feeling. I just didn’t think it was possible anymore, not with Diane, and maybe not with anyone.
Diane and I were both different people since the divorce. She was still living a life of celibacy. That I didn’t understand at all. I had never asked that of her and it pissed me off when I thought about it. If it wasn’t for her infidelity we’d still be together. It’s like closing the barn door after the horses have escaped. I didn’t know if she was doing it to show me she could be loyal or if she had given up sex all together?
She told me once that men didn’t interest her anymore, that she was going to devote her life to our kids. That’s admirable, of course, but it also made me question what life with her would be like again. We didn’t make love at all for the last two years of our marriage. On numerous occasions I tried talking to her but she was always so ambivalent. She would tell me it was a phase she was going through, that she would eventually snap out of it. One time she said it had something to do with her step-father but couldn’t explain it.
I put up with it for several reasons, one was the kids. They were unaware of the problems. In their eyes we were still a happy family and I wanted to stay together as long as I could for their sake.
Another reason was my own hope, as foolish as it was. It was so hard to give up something that was so good at one time. You think to yourself, if you wait long enough maybe things will return to the way they were.
Then of course there was denial. For months before the end I had my suspicions of infidelity, strong suspicions, especially after her comment about Jerry’s wife, Samantha at the Christmas party, but there was nothing concrete…not until the night I caught her.
There is no way I could go through all that again.
No, I have to accept the fact that, that part of my life is over and I must move on. Somewhere there must be a woman with whom I can recapture those feelings of love and trust. Bev is a pretty smart lady. I think I’ll take her advice and use my new found week-ends to get back in the ball game.
It’s just so damn scary!
The next day I was still a little bummed out about my week-ends with the kids. We had decided this week I would pick them up Sunday morning and drop them off later that night. That gave me Friday night, all day Saturday and Saturday night to do something.
My mind was still in a fog when I walked into the studio and saw I already had a message waiting for me on my phone. I hit the play button as I took my coat off and hung it up.
“Mr. Taylor, my name is Peter Hoover. I’m an editor at Pendleton and Brainerd publishers in New York. I’d like to talk to you about your book proposal.” The message went on with some contact information then ended.
I was stunned. It’s been almost a year since I sent all that stuff in. I had been trying to interest a publisher in producing a book of my work. I sent samples of a variety of stuff but no one was interested, or so I thought anyway. I got rejection letters from most and nothing at all from the rest. Could this company really be calling about it now, after all this time? Well, only one way to find out, I thought.
I dialed the number and got Mr. Hoover on the other end of the line.
“Mr. Taylor, thank you for calling back so soon. I forgot you’re an hour behind us out there in Chicago.”
“That’s alright, Mr. Hoover, how can I help you?” I asked, hoping I knew what he was going to say.
“Mr. Taylor normally we don’t look at unsolicited material, but you do good work. The samples you sent us were just great. I showed them around the offices here and got all kinds of oooohhhs and aaaahhhhs, but to be honest, we wouldn’t be interested in publishing a book of photographs.”
Okay, I thought, I knew it was too good to be true. I wondered if this guy was some kind of sadist that he had to call and reject me personally, of course why not, that seemed to be the way my whole week was going.
Mr. Hoover continued. “However, I had an idea that I kicked around with some of the other editors and they thought it had possibilities, so I brought to the publishing board and they approved it.”
“Ah, Mr. Hoover, I’m sorry but you’ve lost me. What ideas?” Now I was confused.
“Well,” he said in a friendly voice, “we’d like to put your photography together with a book of poetry. Each poem would be a reflection of one of your photos. As you opened the book, the left hand page would have the poem and the right hand page with contain your photograph. What do you think?”
“Well I guess it sounds okay to me,” I said, “as long as the poetry is good. I have to admit, I’m not really into poetry. I would have to refer to you guys on that.”
“Well,” he said, “that could be a problem. We would need the book resubmitted in its final form.”
“You mean I have get the poetry?”
“Yeah, but it may not be as difficult as it sounds. Are you familiar with Fayette, Illinois?” he asked.
“Sure, it’s about two hundred miles south west of Chicago, why?” I had no idea where this conversation was going.
“Well,” said Mr. Hoover, “there is a woman who lives there who has sent us a couple manuscripts. Her name is Suzanne Evers, but she goes by Sue. Unfortunately a book of poems is a hard sell but her work is very good and I believe she would do a great job on the poetry for your book.”
“You mean collaborate with this woman poet? I don’t know, this is starting to sound like it’s going to be more work than it’s worth. Hell,” I said, “I don’t have time to keep running back and forth to Fayette all time.”
As soon as I said it I thought, wait a minute, I have nothing to do on week-ends anymore…maybe I do have the time.
Mr. Hoover sounded a little disappointed in my last statement, I could tell by the tone of his voice. “Mr. Taylor, I’m sorry you feel that way. I kind of built the project up around here and was hoping to publish it. I should have asked you first I guess.”
“Ah, hold on, Mr. Hoover,” I realized I was letting an opportunity slip through my fingers. “I’ve just had my week-ends freed up, do you think this woman would be willing to work on it during the week-ends?”
“I would think she would have to work on it then, Mr. Taylor, she has a full time job during the week. Here’s what I would like to do. I have not talked to her at all about this yet. I don’t know, she may not even be interested, but I kind of doubt that. I’d like to tell her about our proposal then give her your number. If she’s interested you guys could work it out between the two of you. Just call me back and let me know if it’s a go or not. How does that sound to you?”
“Yeah, that would be fine,” I said.
“Good, I’ll tell her to call you one way or another. If she says no would you do me a favor and let me know?”
“Sure, no problem,” I said. We left the conversation there and I started getting ready for an ad shot I was doing for a line of women’s shoes.
The more I thought about the book the more I thought the project might be fun. It would certainly fill up my week-ends. I found myself really hoping this woman would call and say okay.
Of course I didn’t want to admit it to myself but if I was busy with the book it would give me another excuse. I could tell myself, ‘I don’t have time to get out there and start dating again, I’m too busy with the book.’
It was well into the afternoon of the next day and I was about to give up on the lady poet calling me when the phone rang. It was her and she was very interested in Mr. Hoover’s idea.
I interrupted her. “Ah, since we maybe working together,” I said, “why not call me Dan.”
“Okay Dan, thank you. You can call me Sue. Like I was saying, I hate to make you drive all the way down here especially since we don’t even know for sure if we’re going to do anything or not. Have you been to Starved Rock state park?” she asked.
“Sure, I’ve been there.”
“Why don’t we meet there Saturday morning. That’s about half way between you and me. We can meet by the big fireplace in the club house.”
“That would be great,” I said, “but how will I know you?”
“I have a pair of red, corduroy pants,” she said with a little chuckle, “you can’t miss them. Could you be there about nine o‘clock?”
About seven-thirty Saturday morning I threw a camera in the seat of my car and started out for Starved Rock with a good sample of my photography in hand. I was feeling pretty good in spite of not being with my kids. A new project, something different, maybe this is just what I need to get my juices flowing again, I thought.
I know it’s not nice but we all do it. I already had a mental picture of Sue in my head from her voice. I visualized her as a short, heavy set, kind of frumpy elderly lady. After all, she wrote poetry.
I was pleasantly surprised when I spotted a pair of red corduroy pants. The woman wearing them was in her mid thirties. Her shoulder length auburn hair framed a very pretty face and, although very petite, she had a striking figure. We introduced ourselves and found a quiet corner where we could sit and talk. We each had samples of our work and I had to admit, for someone who knew nothing about poetry, I really like what I read.
Her words were abstract, yet she was able to use them in a way that described her most intimate feelings and thoughts. I became an instant fan.
At the same time she was impressed with my photos. It didn’t take long before we both knew we were going to do this book together. Our excitement built as we exchanged one idea after another and talked about the endless possibilities and the intercourse between words and pictures.
It wasn’t until we both became conscience of our hunger that we realized we had been talking for hours. It was after one o’clock all ready.
“Lunch is on me,” I said.
As we studied the menus the conversation turned from the book to more personal subjects. I learned Sue worked as a counselor at a local college in Fayette and had a Masters degree in literature. We both loved rock and roll music and had the same list of favorite bands.
Sue was trying desperately to remember the title of her favorite song but her mind was temporarily a blank. Then, just as our young waitress came to the table with our salads, Sue remembered the song and blurted out, “Easy to be hard.”
Suddenly, realizing how it sounded when taken out of context, Sue, as well as our waitress, started turning a crimson shade of read.
Of course this was way too good an opportunity to let pass and I immediately came back with, “I see you’re used to dating younger men.” Our poor waitress turned away from our table and almost choked trying to stifle a laugh and Sue had her head buried in her hands.
The rest of the lunch was enjoyed with good conversation. I was actually having fun so when Sue asked if I wanted to hike some of the trails in the park, I readily agreed. I took my camera and got several pictures of Sue against a back drop of mountains, caverns, and the Illinois river.
It had been a full day and was getting dark by the time I walked Sue to her car. We discussed our schedule and the next time we could get together. The following week-end I had my girls both Saturday and Sunday so we set up a tentative meeting in two weeks. She unlocked her door then turned to say good-bye. I was about to extend my hand to shake hers when she reached up, put her left hand around my neck and gently pulled my head down giving me a tender kiss on the lips.
To say I was shocked is probably and major understatement. She smiled.
“I really did enjoy myself today,” she said in a rather seductive voice, “I’ll be looking forward to our next meeting.”
With that she opened her car door and with in moments was headed out the parking lot exit.
I’m not sure how long I stood there wondering what just happened but I know the night air was getting cold.
The following week-end I spent with Amy and Marsha. There was absolutely nothing more precious to me than the time I spent with them. When I brought them home they told me they both had planes for the next Saturday and Sunday. Diane suggested I come over for dinner again one night during the week so I could still spend some time with them. I gratefully accepted.
The following week Sue and I talked several times over the phone and decided I would drive to Fayette Saturday morning to work on the book at her place.
On the way down my mind kept going back to the kiss in the parking lot. I really didn’t know how to take it. Was she showing me she was interested or was it just her way. Hell, I’d only known her a day, how the heck am I supposed to know.
Whatever her intensions, I thought, I am not jumping into anything. My score with women so far was women-3, Dan-0. Of course to be fair, that wasn’t really the case. I had some wonderful years with Diane and two great kids. I regretted the loss and the pain but I sure didn’t regret the marriage. Those early years were the best years of my life and I wouldn’t trade them for anything.
Cathy was just a fling for a few months. I knew going into that relationship it was temporary. Other than great sex, there was no real emotion there.
Eileen, however, got to me. I know I never loved her as much as I loved Diane, but I did love her.
I pulled into a nice looking apartment complex, found the sticker with Sue’s name on it, and rung the bell. The apartment was very nice with skylights in the bedroom and the kitchen. There was also a wonderfully large balcony that stretched from the living room to her bedroom.
Except for going out for lunch we spent most of the day there going over some of the poetry she had written using several of my photos for inspiration.
Once again I was amazed with her command of the English language. As I read each poem I realized the book was not going to take as long to put together as I had thought. In fact, we could probably send in what we had.
Much to my disappointment, by five-thirty in the evening we were done. We had the entire book designed, organized, and all packed up and ready to go. What I thought might be a month long project wound up taking two days.
“Wow,” said Sue, “that didn’t take us very long at all, did it?” Sue also sounded as if she was hoping it might take longer as well.
“I’ll tell you what,” she continued, “you have a long drive home. How about staying for dinner? Do you like pork chops?”
“Yeah, I like pork chops fine,” I said, “but I don’t want to put you out, are you sure you have enough?”
“To tell you the truth, I planned on making you dinner so I bought extra,” she said.
After dinner we sat and talked over a couple glasses of wine. She told me she was divorced but didn’t go into the reasons and I didn’t pry. She talked about her job as a counselor and I could tell by the way she spoke that she loved her job.
I guess she thought she had talked about herself enough and started asking questions of me. Apparently I wasn’t all that forthcoming because she started to call me the strong, silent type. Just about the time when I decide I should get going she asked one more question.
“So, what do you have planned tomorrow when you go home?” she asked.
“You are what?”
“Am I going home tomorrow?” I asked a little shocked.
“You’re welcome to spend the night here if you’d like,” she said.
It hadn’t been long ago when I was wondering what I would do in a situation like this. I would never again give my heart to a woman as freely as I had in the past. In that guarded frame of mind, I wondered, would I even be able to make love to another woman, or at least have passionate sex?
I reached down, took a hold of Sue’s legs and swung them up on the couch. In a second I had her slacks unbuttoned, the zipper down, and was pulling them off her legs.
“Oh God,” squealed Sue with a big grin on her face.
I took each side of her white cotton panties and slid them down and off. I could already tell from the wonderful scent that she was ready. I put my tongue into the crevice of her sweet smelling pussy. With-in moments her body was twisting and turning. I pushed my hands under her sweater and found two hard nipples unobstructed by a bra.
She screamed as I worked her breasts, then started bucking with her hips so hard I reached under her legs and held them apart as I continued to drive her wild licking and sucking her clit.
Sue threw both arms over her head and held them there as her body tensed in the throes of an orgasm.
“Oh, wait, wait,” she said, as she tried to stabilize her breathing and calm herself down for another round.
I took the opportunity to get undressed. Sue eye’s went right to my rock hard cock as it popped from my jockey shorts and stood at attention.
“Let’s do this in bed,” she said.
The next morning I woke up with Sue pressed against me and her arm laying across my chest. It had been a very long time since I had the pleasure of waking up in the morning with a woman in my arms. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until that moment.
I felt Sue’s body start to move. She rubbed my chest and nestled her head into my shoulder. I looked down at her just as she looked up at me. She had the look of contentment in her eyes and a broad smile across her face. I felt her hand start to move down. It took only a few seconds for her dexterous fingers to have me hard.
She scooted down then sat on top of me guiding my shaft into her. She leaned forward with both hands on my chest, closed her eyes and started to rock her hips back and forth. She deftly clamped her pussy around me and with-in minutes had us both exploding together in ecstasy.
Evidently we both needed a night of passion. We laid in each other’s arms and cuddled. To exhausted to get up yet, we talked and told each other how good the sex was. That’s when I learned how my sex education would be further enhanced.
“Dan,” she said in a tiny little seductive voice, “how open are you when it comes to sex?”
I had no real idea how to answer that. I’d never been asked that before so I had to think a minute before answering.
“Ah, I’m not really sure, why? What did you have in mind?” I asked.
“You’re going to think I’m terrible,” she said.
“No I won’t. I can’t promise you I’d be interested but I would never think less of someone for liking kinky sex.”
Without any further explanation she just came right out with it. “I like to be tied up,” she said, “tied up and spanked, sometimes whipped.”
I had to admit, I did not see that coming. She worked at a college, was a counselor, wrote beautiful poetry…and she was into BDSM?
She caught me totally by surprise and I guess I took awhile before saying anything.
“See,” she said, “I knew you’d think I was a freak!”
“No, no I don’t think that at all. You just surprised me a little, that’s all. I have to admit, I’ve never done anything like that and to tell you the truth, I really don’t think I could raise my hand to any woman let alone take a whip to her. I love women, I respect women, I just don’t think I could do it.”
“Would you do me a favor?” she asked. “Would you think about it, please. I’d really like to see you again. I’m hoping you’ll come back down and spend the entire week-end. If you don’t want to try the bondage that’s fine, we’ll still have great sex just like we did last night, but I love the feeling that being tied up gives me.”
“Well, let me think about it,” I said, not really considering it. “I have the girls next week-end again so I wouldn’t be able to come down for another two weeks.”
“I can wait, I really like you, Dan. I know we live kind of far from each other but I’d like to start a relationship with you. Don’t say anything now, please. Just think about it.”
I promised I would think about the bondage and starting a relationship but didn’t really mean it. Hell, it was a two and half hour drive from my place to hers and this bondage thing, I doubted very much I could get into that.
We finally got out of bed. She invited me to take a shower with her. That was always the most fun way I knew to get clean. I didn’t hesitate.
After the fun filled shower where we both got one another off again, Sue fixed me breakfast. It was almost noon by the time I got on the road back to my place.
There is one good thing about a two and a half hour drive, it gives you ample time to think and reflect. In spite of saying I would think about things, when I left Sue’s apartment I had no real intention of going back. Then it hit me, what the hell else did I have to do with my week-ends. In fact, this might be the perfect relationship. The sex is fantastic and the distance would certainly keep me anchored in knowing there was no way I could fall in love with her. Now, I thought, if I can only get around this bondage thing.
I decided to look up some bondage websites and blogs from my computer at work. I would at least see what it was all about. The more I read the more the idea started to appeal to me.
I called Sue a little later in the week and told her I had the kids this coming week-end but, if she still wanted me, I could drive down the following Saturday morning.
We talked over the phone a few more times so by the time I got to her apartment that Saturday we both knew a lot more about the other. We seemed to like the same movies, the same music, and the same kind of jokes. When I got to her door she greeted me with a big passionate kiss.
We went out for brunch and talked for awhile but I could tell she was anxious, I was guessing she couldn’t wait to start our games.
I guess I was right because as soon as we walked back into her apartment she literally attacked me. She started frantically undoing the buttons of my shirt and didn’t even finish before going for my belt.
I stopped her and grabbed her wrists. I pushed her arms behind her back and held them there while I kissed her, hard, pushing my tongue into her mouth and forcing it to mingle with hers. I leaned in close to her ear and told her not to move a muscle then blindfolded her with a woman’s silk scarf I had brought with me. I again held her hands behind her back with one hand. I could see her breasts as they heaved up and down dramatically. I undid her blouse with my other hand and maneuvered her top off her shoulders. I took another silk scarf and tied her hands in front of her.
I picked her up and laid her on the bed then raised her hands over her head and tied them to the headboard. I opened the front clasp bra and let it lay to either side of her. I moved down to the short skirt and unzipped the side.
As I slowly uncovered her hips I discovered, not the white cotton panties as before, but a very small black silk panty with fine lace embroidered around the edges. Her thigh high stockings were held up with a garter belt matching the panties. She had prepared for this moment, that’s for sure.
“Oh God, oh God,” she breathlessly started to mumble as I slowly slid the small silk fabric down the soft skin of her legs. Her breathing was becoming even more ragged as I separated her nylon clad legs and tied each ankle to the corner of the bed forcing the moist, warm lips of her pussy to part giving me full access to her inner most pleasures.
I knew from my reading that the blindfold would heighten her sense and the restraints would allow her the unbridled freedom to enjoy every moment.
As I stood there I felt an incredible sense of intimacy. I also felt my cock pushing against the front of my trousers harder than it ever had. Realizing the trust between the two of us at that moment had me incredibly aroused. I removed my own clothes. I reached into my overnight case and took out the rabbit fur glove I had bought for one purpose.
Seconds after lightly brushing it over Sue’s breasts she started to scream and thrash around going into an uncontrollable orgasm. Her body bucked and twisted and her head went rapidly from side to side.
I don’t know that I had ever seen anyone cum so hard. I felt my own feelings swell with pride knowing I had given her so much pleasure.
“Untie me, untie me,” she screamed, “untie me and fuck me, fuck me, please, I need you now, oh my God I need you.”
My cock was so hard it physically hurt from straining the skin. As soon as I undid her bindings Sue grabbed my cock and frantically shoved it into her hot pussy clamping her legs around my waist as I began to push into her with all my might.
I felt her fingers dig deep ridges into my back as I fucked her with an animalistic like passion. I groaned as I felt every once of strength burst from my dick and mix with the juices erupting from Sue. I arched my back as every muscle in my body tightened and I could feel Sue magic pussy still pushing up and milking every drop.
I collapsed on the pillow beside Sue and wondered how many more orgasms like that my heart could take.
Sue was still mumbling, “my God, my God.
It took several minutes before our breathing returned to any kind of rhythm. Sue kissed me all over my face and neck. “Wow,” she said, “for someone who wasn’t into bondage at all, you sure did good.”
We continued our bondage games for the rest of the afternoon and well into the night. She even convinced me to spank her while she laid helplessly across my lap with her hands tied behind her back.
Finally we were both so exhausted neither of could hardly move anymore. We had completely lost track of time until Sue looked at the clock on her night stand and announced it was eleven o’clock in the evening and we hadn’t had dinner yet. Thank goodness for Denny’s, their everywhere.
When we got back we cuddled in each other’s arms and fell into a deep, restful sleep.
Sunday we did the things a lot of couples did. We went out for breakfast then some antique shopping. Later in the day we love the conventional way.
At the end of the day I found myself hating to leave. I had to be careful, I thought to myself, I could wind up falling for this girl and that’s the last thing I want to do again.
Several weeks went by. A cold snowing winter was yielding to a cold rainy spring. I had spent quite a few week-ends with Sue and I was enjoying the hell out of my new perverted kinky bondage games.
It was the middle of the week. A cold rain was tapping the glass sliding doors leading to the balcony of my condo as I slipped under the covers preparing for a good night’s sleep. I would be spending that Sunday with the kids and was still trying to make up my mind if I wanted to make the long drive to and from Fayette to spend just a few hours with Sue.
As my mind was drifting off in that twilight stage just before sleep, a ringing noise was forcing me from my intended slumber. What the hell, I thought, it’s the phone ringing. It was almost midnight, that could only mean an emergency. No one would call me for any other reason at this hour.
I jumped from my bed and ran to phone picking it quickly and immediately letting whoever was on the only end of the line I was there.
“Hello, hello,” I answered, my voice obviously depicting my stress. I could hear someone crying faintly but could not make out who it was. “Hello, please who is this, what’s wrong, hello.” I was now panicking. All I could think of was something had happened to either Diane or the kids.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I heard Sue’s shaky voice. “Dan,” she said between sniffles.
“Sue, what’s wrong?”
There was a brief moment of silence while she tried to compose herself. “Dan, I found a lump in my breast,” her voice was fraught with emotion. “I called my doctor and she wants me to come into the hospital this Saturday morning for a biopsy.”
I didn’t know what to say. What can you say. “Sue, don’t think the worst, not yet. Just because you found a lump doesn’t mean it’s cancerous. You know that. You’ve got yourself all worked up and you don’t know anything for sure yet.”
Again there was a brief pause. “I know,” she said, “but what if it is cancer, what will I do Dan, what will I do?”
“You’ll deal with it,” I said, “you’re a strong, intelligent, successful woman, you’ll deal with it.” I tried to keep my own voice strong and confident hoping some of it would rub off on her.
“Thanks Dan, I wish you could be here with me,” she said.
“Honey I’m sorry, I’d never make it there. I’m too tired to make that drive.”
“I know,” she said sadly. “Do you think you could do me a favor though?” she didn’t wait for my response. “My doctor said I should have a loved one take me in for the procedure, do you think you could take me?”
The term, loved one, didn’t escape me, even as tired as I was. As determined as I was not to fall in love with Sue, I had to admit I had strong feelings for her but it would be a long time before I allowed myself to fall in love again, with anyone. Of course I agreed to take Sue in for the biopsy.
That morning I did my best to assure Sue everything would be alright. I left Sue in pre-op and talked to her doctor. It took only about half an hour for the actual procedure but they had her in recovery for another two hours just to make sure there were no complications from the anesthetic.
I stayed with Sue most of the day. We cuddled on the couch and watched old movies on cable. I made lunch and then dinner later in the day. Sue called a girl friend who came and spent the night with her. The next day I had my girls but I called Sue a couple times to make sure everything was okay. She seemed a little depressed but physically she felt fine. Later in the week she called with the news. She didn’t have to tell me the outcome, I could tell by her voice. The lump was benign.
Sometimes it takes a something like that to shock you into reality. As I hung up the phone I realized the reality was that my feelings for Sue were a lot stronger than I was willing to admit. Could I really take another chance? Could Sue be one of those great women that Bev was always talking about?
A couple weeks later I was scheduled to spend the entire week-end with Sue. We talked about me coming down Friday night instead of Saturday morning. I was apprehensive because of the long drive that late at night but thought it would give us an extra night together so I agreed.
By the time I pulled into the parking lot of Sue’s apartment complex I could barely see straight I was so tired. Sue greeted me at the door with a big kiss as usual. It wasn’t difficult to see she was primed and ready for action. The problem was I was not. I was totally exhausted. I got undressed and almost melted into the mattress. As Sue’s naked body pressed against mine I suggested we cuddle and get some sleep. That’s when all hell broke loose!
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? I’VE BEEN WAITING ALL DAY TO GET FUCKED AND YOU’RE TOO FUCKING TIRED? FUCK YOU!” She screamed at the top of her lungs as she ripped the top blanket off the bed and stormed out of the bedroom and into the living room.
I couldn’t believe what just happened. I was so tired, for a second I thought I was dreaming. I got up and walked into the living room where I saw Sue laying on the couch with the blanket over her.
“What the hell is this all about?” I asked. “I told you over the phone I didn’t even want to come down tonight because I was so tired. I thought we could just spend a relaxing night curled up in each other’s arms.”
“FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU! JUST GO TO BED, IN THE MORNING YOU GET THE FUCK OUT AND GO HOME!”
She was still screaming at me. I walked back in the bedroom, got dressed, grabbed my bag, and walked through the living room headed for the door.
Sue saw me and jumped up from the couch and rushing to get to the door before me. She put her back to the door and leaned against it blocking my path.
“WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING?” she spat.
“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you tonight but I’m not staying here. I’ll find a motel for the night,” I said. “And you’d better lower your voice or you’re going to have the neighbors calling the cops, if they already haven’t.”
With that she lowered her voice but was still speaking irrationally. “You’re not going anywhere.”
I reached to move her out of my way.
“DON’T YOU TOUCH ME!” she screamed again.
I reached for the doorknob and forced the door open. I was in the hall when Sue came running out completely nude and screaming at me to get back inside. I grabbed her wrist as she tried to hit me in the face.
I couldn’t understand what was going on. We had seen one another a couple times a month for the last eight months. She had been a sweet, loving and caring person. I decided leaving her alone in this state of mind wasn’t the responsible thing to so I pulled her back into the apartment with me. I tried to talk to her but she simply laid back down on the couch. I finally gave up, went back into the bedroom and laid down with my clothes on. I kept one eye open as I tried to get some sleep.
The next morning I was the first one up. I went to the kitchen and started making us some breakfast. I heard her get up and walk to the bathroom without saying a word. When she came back she had a robe on and looked as if she was still aggravated.
I brought our breakfast out and set both plates on the table.
“I was really disappointed with you last night,” she said. “I’d been looking forward to having sex all day.”
“Being disappointed over not having sex gave you absolutely no right to go yell and scream at me like you did last night,” I said sternly.
She didn’t say anything. It looked like she was still spitting fire.
“You actually tried to hit me last night. You screamed at me at the top of your lungs and came running after me in the hall while you were stark naked. That is not normal behavior Sue, not even for someone who was disappointed over not getting sex.”
I waited for some kind of response but got nothing. When she finished with breakfast she went back into the bathroom. In a minute I heard the shower.
I walked into the bedroom, picked up my suitcase and left. For the next week I hoped she would call me with some kind of explanation but she never did. After two weeks I gave up thinking I would hear from her at all.
From everything I read my guess was she was suffering from bipolar disorder, but I never knew for sure. I never heard from her again, not even when the first copies of our new book were delivered.
Even though I was determined not to, I still let Sue into my heart, at least a little. I don’t know if you’d say it was broken again, but it was at least a little dented.
Soon it would be time for another Chicago winter. Once again I sat in my favorite chair and stared out the dark window into the cold abyss. This was the last straw I told myself. I will devote the rest of my life to my daughters and to my work, the two things in my life that have never let me down.
Just before getting ready for bed I had one more thought…
Maybe I’ll get a dog.
Time past as it always does. Amy and Marsha both grew into fine, beautiful young ladies. In college Amy met a great guy and got married. Marsha received her master’s degree in music and became the music teacher in the same high school from where she graduated.
As digital photography took over the industry more and more, Dan found it harder to compete with the larger studios and all their graphic arts capabilities. One day Dan had decided he’d had enough and closed the studio for good. Still needing a creative outlet, Dan picked up some paint brushes for the first time since college and became a respected watercolor artist. Today he paints, plays a lot of golf, and spends the week-ends with his two grand children.
Diane continued to live in celibacy and kept her promise about devoting her life to the girls. She and Dan have always kept in contact and still see each other on holidays and at family functions. March first is their wedding anniversary and, although they haven’t celebrated it for twenty five years, Dan was thinking of sending her a dozen roses on that date just to see what she would say.
Since I wrote the first chapter there has been much speculation as to how it would end. I know most of you were pulling for Diane and Dan to get back together. This time there will be no sequel, no fifth chapter. I have to stay true to the story because this time…the story is true.
Thank you again for taking the time to read, “The night that was.” I hope every one of you enjoyed it and as always, I really appreciate the feedback.
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