Chapter One: My best friend’s mother.
“I swear Robbie, if you tell anybody about what I’m going to show you, I’ll fucking kill you,” Ted warned me, and judging my the veins bulging in his neck and the crimson color of his face, he probably meant it.
The madman look was something that Ted had inherited from his father, a hothead who had abandoned ship many years ago, leaving Ted and his mother to fend for themselves while he went to make other people’s lives miserable, I assumed.
At least that was my opinion, and I kept it to myself because it wasn’t one that Ted shared or appreciated. As far as Ted Price was concerned, Warren Price was a god who walked on water, and had every right to leave.
Ted felt that way, at least to my way of thinking, because when his old man left his mother was stuck with the job of being both mother and father. Because she had to be the villain in terms of discipline, and because Ted was far from being an angel, he felt his mother was a miserable shrew.
His father waltzed into his life from time to time, and Ted seemed to think that because he took him to a ballgame or a movie once in a while, he was a great father. I didn’t see it that way, and told him so once. Ted, being a far bigger and stronger kid than me, kicked my ass big time for offending his worthless old man, so I never mentioned it again, but it was worth it. Warren Price was a vile sack of garbage, and I knew that Ted would figure that out someday, if he didn’t suspect it already.
So when Ted made me swear that I would never say anything about what he was about to show me, I took it to heart. I knew that it was about his mother, so it wasn’t likely to be anything positive, but I nodded and watched him hitting the keys while waiting for the screen to light up.
“Check this shit out!” Ted crowed as he brought up the home page of this website that was called Finding Love.
It was a dating service or something along those lines, and Ted scanned through the numerous ads before stopping and pointing at the screen.
“Ain’t that hilarious?” he asked me, while stepping aside and letting me see the picture of the woman who I knew very well.
“What’s so funny about that?” I asked.
“How fucking desperate can you get?” Ted snapped.
“I don’t know. How did you find the ad, anyway? Looking for a date yourself? It isn’t like you’re all that popular either.”
“She wrote something down and left it in the desk, so I checked it out and saw her puss,” Ted declared. “Look at that picture! It’s like 10 years old!”
“So if some desperate asshole actually does hook up with her, when he shows up and gets a look at her now, his dick will shrivel up fast,” Ted announced. “Although I can’t imagine anybody wanting to tap her sorry ass to begin with.”
“Well, she was good enough for your father for a long time,” I suggested.
“He wised up though,” Ted said. “You should see the pussy he’s banging now. I’d do that broad in a minute. And check out what she’s looking for!”
Under the various listings, Ted’s mother had left them all with the default listing of “any”, and this got Ted fuming.
“Looking for a nice man,” Ted scoffed. “Any age, race, height, weight, religion – you know what that says? It says she will fuck anything with a cock.”
Ted then proceeded to loudly suggest the various people that were likely to answer an ad for someone that looked like his mother, rattling off a series of degrading descriptions of people of different races and creeds, but I had stopped listening.
Instead I just looked at the picture of a sad eyed Rose Price, circa 1990 or so, as she sat back at the picnic table that still sat in their backyard today. A woman who looked no more or less lonely today than she did in that photo.
“Thank god I’ll be in college soon, and won’t have to watch the parade of desperate old coots coming up to the door to screw the bitch,” Ted said.
“I think someday you’ll regret the stuff you say about your Mom,” I suggested as Ted killed the computer.
“I think not,” Ted said. “Shit Robbie, the way you think she’s such hot shit, you ought to take a shot at her. You’re almost as desperate as she is! Just put a bag over her head, and one over yours too just in case hers falls off!”
Ted slugged me affectionately after that, assuring me that he was only kidding, but we both knew that he wasn’t. The truth was that I was a disaster with girls, and we both knew it.
The other truth was, and this was something that Ted was definitely NOT aware of, was that there was somebody who liked his mother a whole lot, and that somebody was me.
And saying that I liked Rose Price was not a proper choice of words either. I liked Jim Kelly and the Buffalo Bills, the banana fudge ice cream at Carvel, and the bear cubs at the Utica Zoo. Rose Price? Her, I loved.
Chapter Two: Love grows.
I went home and went to the Finding Love website and stared at the picture for a good long time, which depressed me a great deal. It seemed like Ted was right about his mother putting an ad on this website being an act of desperation, and I hoped that nobody she knew ever saw the ad.
I wasn’t very familiar with dating websites, but it seemed like most of the ads on this particular site were for people looking for sex, not relationships, and the way she had written her ad was very tame compared to most of the others.
After giving the matter a lot of thought I decided to something to cheer Ted’s mother up, so using the credit card I had just gotten after graduating from high school last month, I spent $25 for a two month membership in this dating service.
It took me all night to compose a response to Rose’s ad, and after I had finished the brief paragraph I looked it over for several minutes before sending it on to “Miss Hopeful”, which was the name Rose Price was going by.
“Dear Miss Hopeful,” I had written. “I saw your ad and I felt I had to write you and tell you what a lovely woman you are, but I’m sure you hear that a lot. If you would like to write me back, I would love to hear from you.”
I signed it with the name I had chosen for myself, Jim Kelly, and figured I would check back in a couple of days to see if she replied. As it turned out, I had gotten an answer that very evening.
When I saw a message in my box, my fingers were shaking as I clicked on it, and in contrast to my brief note, Rose was very wordy as seemed excited as well.
“Dear Mr. Kelly,” Rose wrote. “Thank you for your nice note in responding to my ad. I know I’m not very pretty, especially compared to a lot of the women with pictures on that website, but I liked reading those nice things you wrote a lot.
I went to see your ad but I saw that yours didn’t really have any information on it, and I’m dying to know something about you. Won’t you please tell me a little bit about yourself?”
I hurriedly crafted a brief response, explaining that I had just joined the website and was a little afraid about putting personal information about myself for all to see until I got a better idea about how I was supposed to do things, having never done this before.
At the end of the message I suggested that if she wanted to, we could chat via instant messenger, and gave her my address to use. The next day, Rose replied that she understood about not wanting to put things about myself on the ad because she had felt the same way.
Rose said that she didn’t know what instant messaging was, but promised to figure out how to sign up and get back to me. The next day she sent me another message and suggested that we chat the next evening at 8. At 7:30 that night I was sitting in front of the computer with my heart racing and my hands shaking.
Chapter Three: Hello Miss Hopeful.
I didn’t want to appear too anxious but at ten minutes to 8 the pressure got too great for me and I sent Rose a message.
Me: Hello Miss Hopeful?
The answer came back almost immediately.
Rose: Mr. Kelly?
Me: Call me Jim, please.
Rose: Okay, Jim. My name is Rose. Short for Rosemary.
Me: I’m Jim – short for James.
Rose: You aren’t the football player Jim Kelly, are you?
Yikes! I didn’t think Ted’s Mom knew anything about football, so I quickly answered no, but I heard that a lot.
Rose: I’ll bet you do. My son used to have a football jersey with his name on it.
Me: Oh, you have a son?
Rose: Yes, he’s 18 and heading out to the Midwest for college soon, so I’ll be an empty nest-er. How about you Jim? Any children?
I told Rose that I had no children, and quickly reached for a pen and paper, taking down notes so that I didn’t trip myself up with my lies. Having no children and never being married seemed like a way to keep it simple.
Rose: How old are you? If you don’t mind my asking that is.
How old was I going to be? Damn, I should have thought about that before now, I thought as I frantically tried to make up this imaginary character.
Me: I thought your ad said you didn’t care about age. Ha ha. I’m 36.
Immediately I realized that I should have been older. How old was Ted’s Mom? Forty maybe? My Mom was 44.
Rose: Oh. I’m quite a bit older than you are then.
Me; Really? I thought you were about my age judging by your photo.
Rose: Flatterer. That picture is a bit old. I’m 48.
Me: Oh. Does that mean I’m disqualified?
That was a stupid choice of words, but the message was gone.
Rose: Oh no. Not at all. It’s just that I can’t imagine why a man your age would be interested in somebody that’s 48.
Shit. Think fast dude, I told myself. I wrote back, telling Rose that I didn’t think age was more than a number, and frankly I had always preferred the company of women older than myself.
That line about age was something my grandmother used to say, and whether it was that or my saying that I like older women, it seemed to right my shaky boat of lies for the time being.
Rose: Well, I’m older all right.
Me: But you don’t look it. I mean that. I find you very attractive.
Rose: Like I said, the picture is a few years old.
Me; Then I’m sure you’re even more beautiful now. They say women and wine improve with age.
Rose: Oh boy. You’re a slick one.
I told her that I wasn’t being funny. I was being honest, and while my thinking Rose was pretty was the truth, it was about the only honest thing I had said thus far.
Rose: I’m a secretary for an insurance company. What do you do for a living?
Oh brother. What did I want to be? Doctor? Lawyer? Keep it simple.
Me: I’m in construction.
Oh well, at least I could make up stuff that I knew a little about, since my old man was in the business. I wasn’t sure that my answer would excite Rose, but it apparently did.
Rose: Construction? You must be a big strong fella. Do you have a picture you could send me. Just for me?
A picture? A picture of a big strong man whose only real construction was the web of lies I had built? I told her that I would try and find one and send it to her before we chatted next time.
Rose: You mean there will be a next time?
Me: Sure, why not?
We made a date to chat again the same time the next night, which gave me some time to find a picture of somebody to use. Someone not TOO good looking, but at least somebody that wasn’t 5’8″ and 130 pounds, with a horse face and some faint acne scars.
Chapter Four: My Uncle Steve.
That was the guy I was going to be, I decided after perusing every picture I had access to. We had gone to a circus when I was younger and my Aunt Effie had taken pictures of us individually as well as together outside the arena. Not a real handsome guy, but decent enough looking for me to pretend to be, and so I was anxious to find out what she thought of me.
Rose: Jim? I got your picture. You’re a very good looking man.
Me: I am?
Rose: Yes you are. Is that the War Memorial Auditorium you’re standing in front of in that picture?
Damn. Rose wasn’t missing anything, and I thought I had cropped everything out. I told her that she was right, and that I had been at a trade show a couple of years ago and I had always liked that photo a friend had taken of me.
Rose: I know your ad said you lived in Central New York too, but that covers a lot of area. Maybe we’re neighbors.
I told her that I didn’t think so, because if I had seen any woman that pretty I would have noticed her long ago.
Rose: You are something. I live in Holland Patent. Do you know where that is?
Me: Sure do. I’m in Utica.
Rose: This is exciting. I’ve been trying this dating service for so long, and you’re only the third person to contact me that wrote back more than once.
Me: I guess I’m lucky then.
Rose: We’ll see about that. Do you think we could meet in person?
Because I’m such an idiot, this was something I hadn’t really thought of, I realized too late. I was hoping to just chat with Rose, like pen pals, and I should have had myself living farther away from Rose than 10 miles.
Of course we would meet, I said, but explained that our company was doing a big project near Rochester and I would be out there for a couple of weeks. After that? For sure.
Rose: Then I guess I’ll have to keep looking at your picture for a while.
Me: Me too. Too bad that your picture doesn’t show me any more than your face. I would love to see your body.
Why I said that, I didn’t know. Maybe it was from seeing some of the other ads on the website and the sexy pictures some of the women had. I knew Rose would never put anything like that on an ad of hers, but for some reason I wanted to get the conversation headed in a more provocative direction.
Me: What do you mean?
Rose: That was how I got the first man to stop exchanging notes with me. Is that your way of asking me to send you pictures of me naked?
Naked? Rose Price? A picture of Rose Price naked would be something I would give anything for. Even though I had peeked down her blouse and around her sleeve holes all my life, an actual picture would be something to cherish forever.
No, I replied. What I meant was just a picture of her like the photo I had sent of myself – or rather my Uncle Steve. Just one of her standing with clothes on. Of course, I added with a winking emoticon, if she had any naked pictures of herself I would be happy to see them.
Rose: You know, I got so interested in the first man I started chatting with like this, that he had me – never mind.
What did he have you do, I wanted to know? The thought of Rose doing anything sexy suddenly intrigued me a lot.
Rose: Well, it seemed so juvenile that it’s embarrassing to think that I actually did what I did. We were exchanging some pretty risque comments, and all of a sudden he asked me to send him a picture of myself naked.
I felt my cock stiffen at the thought of seeing a picture of Rose naked, and had to find out whether or not she did what he asked.
Rose: I told him that I could never do anything like that, but he persisted in asking. It seemed like he was suggesting that if I showed him mine he would show me his. You know? Kid stuff like that? When I said that, he sent me a picture of himself, from the waist down.
Me: Oh. What did you do?
Rose: He suggested that if I didn’t want to send me a picture of myself naked, I should just send him one of myself with my blouse pulled up.
Me: Did you do that?
Rose: Yes, I did. I know what you must think of me now.
Me: Not at all.
Rose: My face wasn’t showing or anything like that.
Me: So did he like what he saw?
Rose: I don’t think so. He stopped writing to me after that.
Me: Maybe something happened to him or his computer went down.
Rose: I doubt it. I warned him that I didn’t have much on top before I sent it, and he said he didn’t care. When I look at it, I can understand why a man would lose interest. Compared to all of the other women who put their pictures in there, I’m pretty pathetic.
Me: I suspect that many of those pictures aren’t really the people they claim to be. Probably taken from porn sites or something. I’m sure you look nice.
Rose: My husband used to tell me I needed implants.
Me: Nobody needs implants. Besides, I love small breasts. Anything more than a handful is a waste. Still, I would love to see that picture though.
Rose: Let me think about it for a bit.
Me: I understand why you wouldn’t want to. You have no reason to trust me.
Rose: Maybe I will. After all, there’s no sense wasting your time. You’ll see me me anyway. Probably better to get hurt on-line than in person. Check your mailbox.
Chapter Five: Rose exposed.
I quickly went over to the e-mail account that I had sent my picture through to her and waited impatiently for Rose’s picture to arrive. Five – ten minutes went by, and as I stared at the screen my dick got hard and my shirt got drenched from perspiration.
When the message popped up in front of me, I almost fell out of my chair from shock, and with trembling fingers I brought up the attachment, which Rose had labeled ‘You’ll be sorry’.
I came. As I gaped open mouthed at the image of Rose my hand went down to the bulge in my shorts, and I immediately ejaculated, filling my underwear with what felt like a copious amount of my seed while I bent over the keyboard and rode out the orgasm.
Sitting in front of the computer, I kept staring at Rose’s picture while the smell of my cum rose from the gooey cauldron between my legs, and I came to the conclusion that it was hands-down the most erotic photo I had ever seen, and that included all the old porn mags my old man thought he had safely hidden in our attic.
I’m certain that to anyone else, the picture wouldn’t merit a second look, and I can understand why. In this age of silicone-enhanced bimbos, a photo of a middle aged woman holding up her blouse to expose her small and slightly sagging breasts would likely be dismissed or even derided with a critical comment.
For me though, this wasn’t just some old woman who had seen better days. This was Rose Price, and while I felt a little sad as I thought about her needing to pose like that, and felt guilty about getting her to send it to me, my lust overwhelmed all of my shame and guilt.
Those breasts – how many times I had tried to get glimpses of them – and there they were. Smaller than I had always pictured them in my mind, they were about the size and shape of pears, and they looked like they were just starting to flatten out a bit on her chest in addition to drooping a little. Strangely enough, these signs of age only made the photo more erotic to me.
Her nipples were really nice though, dark crimson in color with aureoles about the size of silver dollars. The picture was so clear that I could recognize the shirt she had pulled up to her neck – one that they gave away at local race track – and if the had just held the shirt up a little higher I could have seen more than just the fringe of the faint stubble under her arms.
Even Rose’s armpits were works of art, and I had worshipped them for years. Usually smooth, but occasionally with a light coating of peach fuzz, either way I always looked at those gently sloped hollows whenever the opportunity presented itself.
I hopped back over to the instant messenger, hoping that Rose would be waiting for my message. How long had I stared at that picture, anyway? Long enough for me to start to get another erection, I noticed.
Rose: Oh. Hi. Didn’t really expect to hear from you again.
Me: Why not?
Rose: The picture.
Me: I think you’re beautiful.
Rose: You don’t have to say that.
Me: Yes I do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. I swear.
Rose: Well, even if you’re putting me on, I still like hearing you say that. Gave me goose bumps.
Me: Looking at you gave me a hard-on.
Oops. Shouldn’t have said that, I realized the second after I sent it, but it was too late, so I quickly sent another message.
Me: Hello? Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.
Rose: Still here. Kind of in shock. No need to apologize. Actually, it was nice to read something like that. Too bad you could have seen me back in my day. I wasn’t half-bad.
I had seen her back then, and she was never half-bad. She was always hot looking, and even though in her mind the years had started to take their toll, in my eyes she was still amazing looking.
Me: What I wouldn’t give to be the one pulling up your shirt some time. I’d give anything to caress your lovely breasts. Your skin looks so soft in that picture. If I were there I would let my tongue slide all over your body. In that photo even the peach fuzz under your arms looks delicious.
Rose: OMG! I didn’t even notice that until you mentioned it. No wonder the other guy didn’t keep writing me. I’m usually very meticulous about things like that.
Me: Don’t apologize. I thought it was very sexy. Just like the rest of you.
Rose: Is this what they call sex-ting, or whatever it is? Whatever it is, I kind of like it.
Rose: Yes. Gives me goose bumps reading what you’re saying.
Holy shit! Rose Price getting hot and bothered over me – or over this stuff Jim Kelly was telling her! I imagined her typing away. What was she wearing? Did she have her hand between her legs?
Me: I have to confess something to you. Maybe I shouldn’t.
Rose: Tell me, Jim. Not nice to tease.
Me: When I got your picture just now, I masturbated. I couldn’t help it. I was so excited chatting with you, and imagining what you looked like. I was nervous when you sent the picture, because I was afraid that you wouldn’t look as good as I had imagined, but you were so beautiful that I couldn’t help myself. Hope you aren’t disgusted or upset.
There was a long pause, and I wondered whether I had gone a bit too far with that last comment. She did say that she liked the dirty talk though, so I hoped for the best.
Rose: No. I’m not upset. To be honest, last night when I saw your picture, I imagined myself – you know – with you? It’s been so long since I’ve been with a man, and you look so strong and handsome that I couldn’t help myself.
If only I had actually been my Uncle Steve, I would have run right over to Rose’s house after hearing that, but that wasn’t going to happen.
Me: As a matter-of-fact, when we get done chatting I suspect I’m going to get more comfortable and do it again.
Rose: Would you send me a picture too?
Me: Of me? I did.
Rose: You know what I mean. A picture like what I sent you.
Me: Of me with my shirt pulled up?
Rose: No, silly. You know what I mean.
Obviously I did known what she meant, but I didn’t have a digital camera. My folks did though, so I decided to buy some time, telling Rose that I would take a picture of myself and sent it to her later.
She seemed pleased with that, so we ended our conversation on that note. I went to take a shower, needing to almost chisel my semen encrusted fruit-of-the-looms off of my genitals by then, and after finding the family camera I went back to my room and tried to send Rose something for her to enjoy.
Chapter Six: Jim Kelly’s photos.
It took me a couple of hours and dozens of badly taken pictures before I was able to get a couple of acceptable ones. My initial efforts either showed too much, either of my room, which looked like every other 18 year-old’s did, or showed too much of me.
I needed a picture of just my stuff, from my navel to my thighs, and I was finally able to get two decent pictures of my cock. One with an erection, which was the easy one because I hadn’t been able to lose my boner all night. Just me from the side, with me on my back and my fist wrapped around the base of my unit. I thought about another one I took, with a ruler propped up against my cock, but decided that would be too tacky.
The other one was tougher, and I finally had to get myself off again while staring as Rose Price’s breasts. Wiping my limp dick off, I was able to get one of my dangling package before I started sprouting wood again.
I stared at the two pictures, not really believing that I had done this, and the more I looked the better I liked them. It occurred to me that not only didn’t I not look bad, I looked pretty damn impressive.
Too bad I couldn’t just walk around fully dressed except for my crotch. Then the girls would look at me, I figured. My only saving grace were my private parts. I was homely, skinny and not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I was blessed in the genitalia department.
In the end, I ended up sending Rose both of them, finally getting them sent just before midnight, and after eliminating all the evidence, snuck the camera back where I had found it and went to bed.
I slept fitfully, and finally got up very early in the morning. That picture of me with a boner was too much, and the more I thought about it, the more afraid I was that maybe I had gone too far, so I went to see if there was any way I could retract that picture.
To my surprise, Rose had sent an e-mail in response to my photos, which she had opened up about 3 minutes after I had sent it. Her message back to me was sent around 2 in the morning.
Chapter Seven: Dear Jim.
I felt like such an idiot, sitting by the computer half-asleep waiting for your message, afraid that I had been stood up and made a fool of again.
It was so worth waiting for. Your pictures – I can’t find the words right now. I can’t wait to meet you in person.
Tomorrow night on IM – same time?
Chapter Eight: Rose’s reaction.
When I read what Rose had sent, my feeling of exhilaration was soon overwhelmed by my realizing that I was in the middle of something that would not have a happy ending. There was no Jim Kelly, only me. Robbie Bennett. Not a construction worker. An 18 year old kid – and a virgin besides – and here I was toying with a woman’s feelings. A woman I worshipped.
I felt like the biggest low-life on the planet, and I vowed that I would not be chatting with her any longer. Better to just disappear from the cyber world as quickly as I had entered it. Let her think that I died or took off somewhere.
That was the best idea. It would be less painful in the end for all concerned, but the closer the time came, the more I wavered. I was drawn to the computer like a moth to a flame.
Me: Hi Rose.
Rose: I don’t know how long I’ll be able to stay awake. I was up late last night, if you know what I mean.
Rose: Your pictures. I still can’t get over them. Guess I’m showing my age, or maybe this is all new to me. Seeing you like that. I’m still shaking.
Me: You liked them?
Rose: You’re kidding. I was stunned. Seeing you like that was – whew! You look so young. What I could see of you, that is. You don’t look 36.
Me: I don’t? Well, I try to take care of myself.
Rose: Not the you-know-what. I mean the other parts of you that I could see. So smooth looking.
I had fluffed up my little tuft of pubic hair, which was pretty much the sum total of my body hair, but she was right in that the rest of me didn’t probably look like the 36 year old construction man I was pretending to be.
Me: Oh. Yeah, I guess so.
Rose: Is that really you?
Me: The pictures I sent you? Yes. That’s me.
Rose: I know it’s hard to tell from pictures, but you seem to be very – well endowed. Is that the right terminology?
Me: Is that okay?
Rose: Sure. I mean, that doesn’t matter to me but it just seemed that – Wow! I don’t have that much experience, but it just seemed that you looked kinda big. My ex-husband – he wasn’t anywhere near as large as you are.
As goofy as it seems, Rose telling me that excited me a lot.
Me: Is he the only man you’ve ever been with?
Rose: No, I was with a couple of guys before I was married, and – this is embarrassing – when our marriage was on the rocks. You don’t want to hear this. I don’t want you to think I’m a slut.
Me; We’ve all done things we regretted.
Rose: Well, my ex used to have a few of his friends over for Monday Night Football, and he asked me if I would like to have a 3-some with one of the other guys and him. I didn’t want to, but he persisted so I finally gave in. After the game one of the men stayed after the others had gone and he – we – you know.
The silence from my keyboard was deafening, and for good reason. Not so much from the fact that Rose had been with 2 guys at once, and not even the fact that her asshole husband made her do it with another guy.
The part that sent me back on my heels was that I knew some of the men that used to go over to the Price’s for Monday Night Football back about 10 years ago. One of them I knew very well, because he was my father.
Me: Sorry. My mouse just feel apart and I had to put it together. That’s interesting about you and the other man.
Rose: I didn’t want to do it, but I hoped that it would keep us together.
Me: I take it that it didn’t.
Rose: No. I did everything that he asked me to do. Things I never even heard of doing. In the end it made it worse because he accused me of liking it more with the other guy than I did with him.
Me: Did you?
Rose: No. I loved my husband, even after all he did to me. I’m sorry I even mentioned this.
Me: It’s alright. It hasn’t changed anything about the way I feel about you.
Rose: Good, because I really want to meet you in person, even though I feel like I know you already. When can we get together?
Me: Pretty soon.
Chapter Nine: Backed into a corner.
Rose Price was alone, a tiny figure sitting on a bench in the middle of the town park at 1:00 on Saturday afternoon. I know because I was watching the park from across the street, and had been since just about noon. Rose had said she would be there at 1:30, and had arrived early.
I had hoped – prayed that she wouldn’t show up. I don’t even know why I finally agreed to meet her at all. Over the entire month of August I had kept making up excuses about why Jim Kelly couldn’t meet her, and the longer that went on the more upset Rose was getting.
Finally, in mid-September she gave me an ultimatum. Either meet or our conversations were over. I tried everything, even telling her that I didn’t look much like that guy in front of the War Memorial any more, but she didn’t care, and for some reason I finally relented, agreeing to meet her in the park just down the road from her house.
Backed into a corner, or more accurately having backed myself into a corner, I made up my mind to come clean and face the music. After a few false starts I finally strode over to the park and approached her from the side without her noticing me at first.
Rose was wearing a sweater despite the warm day, and had really gone through a lot to get ready for this meeting. Her hair looked like she had just gotten out of the beauty parlor, and she had make-up on and everything. She looked so happy and upbeat, not to mention beautiful. Too beautiful to have this happen to her, and when she saw me approaching her, I lost my nerve.
“Hi Robbie,” Rose said, looking around nervously as if she was expecting somebody that she didn’t want me to see. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”
“Hi Mrs. Price. Yeah, with Ted off to college and all, you know.”
“Well, don’t be a stranger,” Rose said, making it clear that she wasn’t looking for company right about now. “Stop by for a soda when you have time. You’re always welcome.”
“Uh, sure,” I said, and walked down toward the creek.
“Gutless asshole,” I said to myself once I got clear of Rose, and kept walking until I was out of sight.
1:30 came and went, and then it was 2 o’clock, but Rose gave no sign that she was ready to leave. She was certainly giving this asshole plenty of leeway, and when the clock neared 2:30 I found myself walking back toward Rose.
She looked even tinier now than she had before, and a lot of the glow she had exhibited earlier was gone, replaced with a sadness that was more in tune with the way she had looked since her husband had left her.
Rose seemed shocked to see me, but my vision was clouded by the tears that were welling in my eyes, and I was having trouble getting the words to come as she looked at me with a strangeness that I deserved.
“He’s not coming,” I finally stammered, and Rose clearly didn’t understand what was happening.
“Jim Kelly,” I said. “He’s not…”
The look of horror on Rose’s face was indescribable, but I didn’t get to see it for long.
“No,” Rose whispered, looking at me with eyes that either could not comprehend what was happening, or simply unwilling to believe that somebody could be so cruel and heartless to play such a horrible game with her.
“NO!” Rose repeated, but this time she screamed out the word, and when I stood there and shrugged my shoulders she jumped up from the bench and began to stumble away.
“Mrs. Price?” I called out, starting to chase her, and when she looked back at me she tripped and went to the ground for a second before scrambling to her feet and running away, down toward the six mile creek.
I kept calling out to her as she ran through the park, begging for her to stop, but she kept running, screaming at me to leave her alone. She kept going toward the creek, and while it wasn’t deep enough to drown in, I didn’t know what she was planning on doing. All I could hear was her crying and screaming.
Apparently we got the attention of some county worker who was parked alongside of the municipal building toward the back of the park, and as Mrs. Price ran past the truck and into the woods, the guy jumped out of the truck and cut me off.
“What the fuck are you doing?” the burly guy snarled at me.
“I have to get her,” I said, and in retrospect I realize that my answer wasn’t very good and my chasing after Rose looked even worse, but I didn’t have time to explain because I had to catch Rose before she hurt herself.
Pushing my way around this big ape wasn’t a very smart move, but then again, I’m not a very smart guy. To make it worse, not only am I not a lover, I’m not a fighter, as the next few seconds clearly proved.
I remember the punch in the solar plexus that knocked the wind out of me, and the punch that landed above my right eye. Judging by the way my mouth was bleeding when I came to, apparently I got at least one more shot to the jaw, but I was already knocked out by then.
When I came to I was on my back in the gravel. The man was gone, and the only person I could see was the angel hovering over me, wiping the blood from my forehead. Rose Price.
Her face was puffy and her eyes red from crying, but she was still beautiful to me, and the fact that she was tending to me not only meant that she hadn’t done anything rash, but that she didn’t hate me. At least not enough to leave me on ground to rot.
“Where did he go?” I mumbled, feeling blood trickling out of the corner of my mouth. “Guess he had enough.”
Rose didn’t smile at my lame attempt at humor, but my head was throbbing so badly that I didn’t laugh either. Instead I struggled to sit up with Rose knelt beside me.
“I deserved that,” I finally said. “Did you get him to stop?”
“No,” Rose said without emotion. “I think his fists got sore. I watched though.”
I got to my feet, which might have been a mistake since the park had become a carousel of sorts, and if it wasn’t for Rose holding my arm I might have gone down again, but she steadied me until I got my bearings.
“You can’t go home like that, Robbie” Rose said. “Come to my place and let me clean you up.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Price. I don’t deserve to have you be this nice to me.”
“No,” Rose said. “You don’t.”
Chapter Ten: The long walk.
I was trying to walk straight, but the path I was taking was serpentine despite Rose’s best efforts. After we got out of the park we had to walk past Benny’s bar, where a couple of locals found my appearance amusing.
“Hey Rose,” one of them said. “Lucky you pulled Jesse off of him, because he would have killed that poor little fella the way he was going. Not a good idea to mess with that guy, kid.”
Rose ignored them, and when I glanced over and started to say something, she ignored me too. The fact that she hadn’t let the guy wail on me made me feel better and worse at the same time. The pain I was in somehow made me feel like I was getting what was coming to me, but it didn’t do anything for Rose.
She got me into her house, a place I was familiar with, but now seemed different without the presence of her son Ted. The absence of her husband had already made the house seem bigger, but now with Ted off to college and swearing to never return, the modest dwelling seemed cavernous.
Rose sat me down at the kitchen table, and I watched her out of my good eye while she got some things down from the cabinet to treat my various injuries, and saw that she had dressed up for the occasion. Some occasion, I though to myself.
This is going to sting a bit, Rose said just before dabbing some antiseptic on the cut over my eye, and while I winced I tried to think of something to say.
“You’ve done this enough to me over the years, haven’t you Mrs. Price?” I recalled. “Always scraping, cutting or doing something to myself over here.”
“Here,” Rose said, handing me some mouthwash. “Rinse your mouth out over at the sink.”
I got up, the pain in my side making me flinch, and after burning the cut inside my mouth with the rinse, I went back to the seat.
“Your ribs. They hurt, don’t they?” Rose asked. “Take your shirt off.”
I protested, not wanting to showcase my scrawny build, but finally managed to get the shirt off. The bruise on my rib cage was, not coincidentally, as big as a fist, and when Rose gently touched it I bit my lip in response.
“Might have broken a rib,” Rose said, pulling a chair over next to me so she could tend to my busted lip. “You should go to the hospital and get checked out.”
“No, I’m alright.”
“You know,” Rose said. “What you did to me? If anybody else had done that, most any of Teddy’s other friends – especially Teddy himself, it wouldn’t have surprised me. But you?”
Rose shook her head at me in a way that showed her disappointment in me just as much as her words did.
“You, I always thought more of. I was always so fond of you. I always wished that Teddy would take more after you than the other boys, or his father. You were always so polite and considerate to me. Then today. Why would you do something like that to me?”
“I didn’t mean it,” I said, tears rolling down my cheeks that had nothing to do with my bruises. “It got out of hand.”
“Did Teddy put you up to it?”
“How did you know about that stupid ad then?” Rose asked. “Teddy must have showed it to you.”
I said nothing, not willing to throw my friend under the bus, but Rose seemed to have it all figured out without my help.
“He already made it clear how disgusted he thought I was for doing it,” Rose said in a resigned voice. “Just like he thought everything else I did was wrong or stupid.”
“He doesn’t mean those things,” I suggested. “He’ll figure things out eventually, and when he comes back…”
“He’s never coming back,” Rose said softly.
“Oh, he always said that.”
“I think this time when he said it, he meant it, because as he was leaving he gave me something to remember him by,” Rose explained, and when I looked quizzically at her, Rose opened her mouth wide to reveal a open space where her upper incisor used to be, sticking her tongue through the open area.
“Ted hit you?” I said, half getting out of the chair in disbelief.
“Guess he learned that from his father,” Rose said. “You see it often enough, I guess it seems like fun. He told me what a skank I was to be desperate enough to screw – well, the entire list of ethnic and racial slurs that he picked up over the years from his father. Then he punched me and left.”
“Hit you? Ted – he?” I stammered numbly, almost asking if she was kidding before realizing that it was certainly not a kidding matter, and the expression on Rose’s face left no doubt that it was all true.
“How could they? I never knew,” I pleaded.
“Not something you brag about,” Rose said.
If I had known, I would have done something, although I don’t know what. If I had ever seen it, I would have done something crazy, and even though the end result would have left me in the same condition I was now, or worse, there was no way I could not have tried.
“Yes, he did show me the ad,” I admitted, feeling that Rose deserved an explanation, and now having no problem throwing her son under the bus, which was where he belonged. “Ted showed me the website and your ad. He made fun of it and you too, but I looked it up at home and – you know the rest.”
“I still don’t understand why.”
“Because I love you,” I blurted out. “I always have and I always will.”
“Robbie,” Rose said, a tiny smile appearing on her face for the first time. “It’s flattering, but what you’re feeling isn’t love. You just have a crush on me. When you get older…”
“I am older,” I said, wiping the tears from my face with the back of my hand. “I know what crushes are. I had one on Sharon Damino last year. It came and went. I’ve loved you forever. Every time I came over here I would get so excited to see you. I even have a picture of you and…”
“Omigod. The picture,” Rose said, covering her mouth as she remembered the photo she had sent me.
“I meant a picture of you and me and Ted,” I explained.
“I’m so ashamed. Sending you that photo,” Rose said, sobbing a little.
“It was such a beautiful photo,” I told her. “I had gotten little peeks of you over the years, but seeing that picture was like a dream come true. I only wish it showed your face.”
“So what was the point of it all, Robbie? To see an old woman’s drooping breasts?”
“I’m not sure why, but the picture you sent me was beautiful no matter what you say. I wanted to chat with you like a normal man would,” I told her. “Somehow, I thought that there was a chance for me to work it out so that I could actually be with you, but by the time I realized it was a crazy idea, I was in too deep.”
“If you really did feel that way about me, why didn’t you just come here and say it?” Rose asked.
“If I did, what would you have said?” I replied. “You would have said that I’m just a kid with a schoolboy crush, right?”
“I suppose,” Rose admitted. “Those pictures you sent to me? Who was that?”
“My Uncle Steve,” I said sheepishly.
“Your Uncle Steve? How did you get pictures of your Uncle Steve’s privates?”
“Oh no!” I responded, correcting her. “The picture in front of the War Memorial was my Uncle Steve.”
“What about the other ones?” Rose asked. “Did you take them off of a pornographic website?”
“No,” I mumbled, my shame reflected in my blushing face which burned my cheeks. “That was me.”
Rose looked startled, even glancing down at my crotch reflexively, and she shook her head slightly as if she just figured out I really wasn’t a kid anymore.
“Can I use the bathroom? I asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence, and when Rose nodded I went down the hall and relieved myself.
When I returned to the kitchen, Rose was just hanging up the phone.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” I said, grabbing my jacket and preparing to leave. “For stopping him and for, well, everything. I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Well, you did hurt me,” Rose confessed. “That moment in the park – if it wasn’t the worst moment in my life it was close. I was really hoping to meet this Jim Kelly.”
“I know. Sorry.”
“It’s tough when you’re old and worn out,” Rose said, holding up her hand to stop my attempt at correcting her opinion. “There’s nobody in this town that wants me, at least none of the ones I would be interested in. I was desperate, just like Teddy said I was. Looking for a miracle. A white knight to come to my rescue.”
I gestured awkwardly, unable to come up with any words to make things right.
“I just spoke to your mother,” Rose informed me, nodding toward the phone.
“You told her?” I asked, feeling my stomach churn again.
“I told her that you had gotten into a fight with somebody, that you were a little banged up, and told her that you wanted to spend the night here,” Rose explained. “This has been a horrible day. I’m hoping that you don’t make it worse by making me out to be a liar and going home.”
“No,” I heard myself croak.
“Good. I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Rose said, reaching her hand out to me. “I’m tired of being alone.”
Chapter Eleven: The bath.
Rose led me to the bathroom, where she turned on the faucet in the tub and, after adjusting the temperature, told me to get undressed. At first I was afraid that she thought I smelled, but after watching the bubbles build in the tub I figured this was something people must do before they make love.
Make love? I was going to make love. After 18 years and 5 months of virginity; frustrating years of masturbating to photos and movies while watching everybody else get the girls, I was going to get to do it.
Not only that, but I was going to make love to the girl that I had always dreamed about. Rose Price. That made the wait worthwhile. I got my clothes off quickly and then debated as to whether or not I should get in the tub.
In the end, I stayed perched on the rug beside the tub, my hands cupped over my genitals, which had chosen this time to shrink in fright. Relax, I told myself. Maybe we aren’t going to make love. Perhaps I do stink. There’s always the possibility that I had misinterpreted everything. What the hell did I know about women, or anything else for that matter?
Then Rose came back into the room.
Rose didn’t walk in, she floated back in, looking like an angel. Looking a little embarrassed for some reason, she looked at me for my reaction before going over to turn off the water and motioning for me to get in the tub.
I climbed in and sunk into the warm water as fast as I could, still covering my stuff as best I could, but never took my eyes off of Rose, who looked positively heavenly.
She was wearing the most sheer white nightie imaginable. It covered very little, and was so transparent that you could see right through it, like she was wearing a mist. The darkness of her nipples and the triangle of hair between her legs were clearly visible, and the more I looked at Rose the less nervous and more aroused I became.
“So beautiful,” I managed to say, even though my words came out so faintly that they were nearly inaudible.
“I bought it for this occasion,” Rose said. “Hate to waste it. Who knows if I’ll ever need it again?”
“I meant you,” I told her. “The nightie is nice too though.”
“Fancy wrapping to distract a guy from seeing what’s underneath,” Rose said as she knelt on the rug beside the tub and grabbed a big sponge.
“I wish you could see yourself like I see you,” I finally said.
“Me too,” Rose sighed as she started rubbing my back with the soapy sponge.
The softness of the sponge and the warmth of the water were combining to make me feel more and more relaxed, and the scent of the bubble bath wasn’t really feminine, but more like a musky aroma.
“Is the water too warm?” Rose asked me.
“No, it’s perfect,” I answered, letting her lift my arms to gently rub my tender ribs before soaping my armpits and chest.
“Get up on your knees for me Robbie,” Rose asked, and I managed to do it while keeping my privates hidden under the bubbles.
Rose had a washcloth in her hand and was swishing it under the water while I sat perched on my knees.
“Did I smell or something?” I asked, the question refusing to leave my mind. “I showered right before I went to the park.’
“No honey,” Rose said with a smile. “You smelled just fine. I read an article in a magazine a while back that said this was a wonderful way to pamper a man, so I decided that if I was ever with a man again, I was going to try it. Don’t you like it?”
“I love it,” I said happily. “I was just – you know.”
“Well just relax and enjoy,” Rose said as she moved the washcloth down my back. “The article said it was a wonderful way to get to know a man intimately.”
“Ooh!” I groaned, grabbing the sides of the tub as I felt the washcloth between my ass cheeks, and groaned even louder when I felt Rose’s finger probe gently into my anus.
Rose looked differently now, intent on what she was doing, and all knew was that whoever wrote that article deserved an award. Then it got better, as Rose’s other hand came around in front of me, managing to miss my cock, which was hard as a rock and covered with bubbles.
Rose’s hand came up my thigh and found my dangling balls right away. She let out what sounded like a purr of contentment as she began rolling my nuts in her palm, a palm with no washcloth covering it.
“Nice,” Rose cooed before biting her lip, and she milked my balls while still wiggling the tip of her finger in my ass. “You’re really an incredibly well developed young man, Robbie. I never would have guessed from looking at you. Is that a bad thing to say?”
All I could do was shake my head and rock my hips on her hands, because I felt incapable of speech. I prayed that Rose wouldn’t touch my cock, because if she did I was going to cum all over the place. Maybe she sensed that, because she avoided my cock completely, even though most of the bubbles had fallen off.
“I think we’ve had enough of this,” Rose said, taking a deep breath as she grabbed a rubber hose from the shelf and hooked it up to the faucet, unplugging the drain and letting the water out.
Rose started spraying me down, from the neck on down, and after she rinsed off my upper body she motioned for me to stand up. I did so with considerable shame, as I had a full blown erection. Rose’s scrubbing was partly to blame for that, but I would have been hard anyway.
I looked absurd though. A really scrawny body with a long dick bouncing around crazily in front of it, and for once I kinda wished it was a little less noticeable, especially after Rose started rinsing off down there.
Rose seemed to hold the spray around my cock and balls for a long time, and as the water emptied from the tub she sprayed my lower torso free of the soap, exposing my nearly hairless legs in the process.
“Step out, Robbie,” Rose asked me, and as I stepped onto the bath mat she began running the towel through my scalp, vigorously drying me.
Her underarms were right in front of me, sweetly scented and unlike in the picture she had sent me, incredibly smooth and inviting. I wanted to reach over and touch her there, just to let my fingers slide over that moist and inviting hollow, but was content to just inhale and enjoy as Rose finished drying my hair and moved on.
Through my own armpits the towel moved, and although I thought I caught a hint of a smile when she saw that mine were embarrassingly similar to her own, thankfully she said nothing and kept working down my body.
Now kneeling again, Rose moved the towel around everywhere except my privates, drying my legs all the way down to my toes while looking at my cock which was bobbing around right near her head. Slowly rose worked the towel up the insides of my legs, and when she got up above my knees I parted my thighs a bit.
The towel kept going up further until it was around my balls, and I made an involuntary grunt when I felt the hand under the cotton caressing my sac. I glanced down and watched my boner springing up and down, and to my horror I saw that some cum was dribbling out of the tip of my dick, hanging down like an icicle.
Rose saw it too. It was so obvious that she couldn’t help but see it. She was still caressing my balls, but I suddenly noticed that the towel was on the floor and my sac was in her bare hand. Without a word I watched as Rose slowly moved her face closer and opened her mouth, and as her warm lips enveloped the head of my dick and slid down the shaft, I exploded in her mouth.
In horror, I tried to pull her head away when I felt myself start to ejaculate, but it was already too late, and beside, Rose had no intention of pulling away.
Instead, she cupped my buttocks in her hands and held me close, willingly taking my seed down her throat as my dick kept squirting and squirting like I had been saving it up all my life. When my cock had finally been drained Rose let her lips slide further down, until as my dick went soft her lips were down to the base of my shaft, stick gently sucking as if to try and siphon every drop out of me.
Looking up at me, Rose slowly let her mouth slide back up the length of my dick until it fell out, dropping down between my still bowed legs. Rose got up to her feet again and looked at my for approval. Impulsively, I kissed her; a kiss that was returned with even more enthusiasm that I had started with.
“I seem to remember back when I was your age that young guys used to have a lot of – you know – energy?” Rose said. “Hope I didn’t wear you out or anything.”
“No,” I answered, thinking that she might have been worried that I was ready to go to sleep or something. “I never did anything before.”
“What do you mean, Robbie?”
“I never – none of this,” I babbled, trying to tell her that all of this was new to be. I was as pure as pure can be, and what had just been done, as brief as it may have been, was the only real sexual experience of my life. “I don’t know how.”
“Come,” Rose said softly, taking my hand and leading me out of the bathroom.
Chapter Twelve: Rose’s bedroom.
I followed Rose as she walked down the dimly lit hallway, and in her nearly transparent nightie she looked like an apparition floating down the hall. She flowed though the open door at the far end, and when I came in behind her I was hit with the scent of something exotic smelling, probably coming from the candles that were burning in various places around the room.
Enough candles to light the room up very softly, yet not so many that the aroma was overpowering. I could still smell Rose, who led me over to the bed, where the covers were pulled down invitingly. All of this planned for the man that never was.
Rose looked at me, waiting for me to make a move. I was supposed to take her nightie off, or so I assumed, but I didn’t know whether to lift it up and pull it down her shoulders. As sexy as it was, I did want it off.
Rose, sweet Rose made it easy for me. Lifting her arms, she gave me the hint I needed, and so I took the bottom of the flimsy nightie in my hands and pulled it up and off of her. Not gracefully, but managing to get it off without much trouble, and there she was.
Tears were welling up in my eyes as I looked at the tiny treasure before me. So beautiful in my eyes that I tried to speak to tell her so but couldn’t, only able to move my lips and shake my head slowly.
Rose shrugged her shoulders, probably feeling every bit as naked as she was, and since I wasn’t able to talk or move, having enough trouble standing upright, she took the step necessary to bring us together.
Warm and soft. That was how she felt when she put her arms around me. I could feel her breasts against my skin, and down below I felt her pubic hair surrounding my dick, which was beginning to come back to life as a result.
Rose seemed to notice my dick starting to get hard again, and sighed as she moved her hips slightly in response. I felt her take my hand and bring it up to her right breast. It fit in my hand perfectly, and I started squeezing it, enjoying the feel of the spongy orb.
“Easy,” Rose whispered, bringing my other hand up to her left breast, moving a few inches back so I could knead them.
Her nipples were really stiff, pressing in my palms as I tried to contain my lust, being as gentle as I could. We both got startled when my dick ended up poking her in the bush, and when she glanced down and saw me hard again, she smiled.
“Thank you,” she said shyly, although I figured that I should be the one thanking her.
Holding onto my wrists, Rose moved back a couple of steps and eased down onto the bed, with me following along. On her back, I was on my own. What was I to do? I went with my instincts, as well as the knowledge I had managed to obtain from watching the porn movie her son had me watch last year.
I knelt beside her and licked Rose down from between her breasts, all the way down to her stomach. Climbing over between her legs, I was grateful when Rose opened her thighs to let me kneel between them.
There it was. Surrounded my a thick triangle of hair, looking nothing like the women in the movie or in Playboy, was Rose’s pussy. A real woman’s pussy, I thought. The smell was musky, almost woodsy, and when I moved my tongue into the thicket I discovered that despite all the hair, I could find the opening with no trouble, because it was wet.
Rose shivered when my tongue found the opening, and I felt her hands in my scalp, rubbing my head, or maybe guiding me as I dabbed away blindly. My mouth found a little bud that made Rose shake when I licked it, and so I kept tonguing it.
Rose moaned and grabbed my hair, pushing my face into her hard. Encouraged, my tongue started really working, and the more it did it, the better Rose liked it. Soon her legs were squirming and she was making all kinds of marvelous sounds.
“Robbie,” Rose cried out, reaching down and grabbing my shoulders, pulling me up to her.
Had I done something wrong? No.
“Be gentle at first,” Rose said, her voice lilting but her face strained, and I knew what I had to do now.
I fumbled around with my dick in hand, frantically trying to find the opening that I had just found with my tongue with no problem. Suddenly I felt Rose’s hand on mine, guiding me to the moist lips of her sex. So simple, and once she had shown me the way, it was now up to me.
Be gentle. That was what Rose had said, and I tried. I felt the head of my dick slip into a wonderfully warm and snub place, and the farther I slid in, the warmer and tighter it got.
Beneath me, Rose’s face looked tortured. Those soft features now strained, as every muscle and vein in her neck was visible as her head arched back. I kept moving more and more of me into her, and the muscles of her pussy seemed to be working my dick over, until at last I was almost fully inside of her.
I felt the tip of my dick hit something solid, which made Rose cry out, and so I pulled my dick out almost all the way. I did it really slowly, which seems to excite Rose, so I slid back in just as slowly as I had pulled out.
Rose seemed to be laughing, but it was a strange laugh, and the way she was clawing at my arms confused me. I kept going in and out of her as slowly as I could, hoping she would tell me if this was bad or good, and then she told me.
Rose had her head almost facing the headboard, arching her neck as she made a howling sound, then suddenly began writhing around. She let out a blood curdling noise, and then I felt my dick get crushed my her pussy, not once but twice.
Rose’s upper body lifted off the bed as she looked at me with an expression that was indescribable, and then her body slammed back down onto the bedding, where her body jerked around a bit before she just lay there staring at me.
I think I had stopped by then, my dick still hard inside of Rose, when she finally looked at me with the most dazed and dreamy expression I had ever seen. She smiled and pulled me down to her, smothering me with kisses as I felt her legs wrap around me, and when she started to thrust her hips against mine, I fell into the rhythm.
We moved as one now. Rose led and I followed at first, and after a while it was me leading the way. By the end, she wasn’t asking me to be easy, and when I felt I could no longer hold back, I began thrusting harder.
Rose cried out again, her fingernails raking my back as her teeth went into my collarbone, and it felt my dick getting crushed again. I was already starting to cum, and that only made it better as I felt my dick spurt deep inside of Rose’s womb.
“So good,” Rose mumbled, as she smothered me with kisses. “You were so good.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” I confessed, overjoyed at seeing Rose so happy herself.
“Then don’t ever learn,” Rose told me.
Chapter Thirteen: Still ticking.
“For somebody who looks like they got run over by a bus, you certainly seem to have recovered well,” Rose told me when she felt my dick poking her in the back.
“I forgot all about that,” I said, her mentioning my assorted injuries bringing my attention to them. Oh sure, my lip was sore and my ribs made me wince from time to time, but how could I let that bother me now?
“Robbie, I’m really sore,” she said while rolling over to face me. “It’s been years since I’ve done anything like this.”
“And even then, I wasn’t used to anything like this inside of me,” she said in a scolding tone, squeezing my dick playfully. “You’re like a machine.”
“Once more?” I pleaded, pouting a little. “I’ll be really slow and gentle, just like the first time, and the fourth time.”
“I still haven’t recovered from that first time,” Rose said, but then must have taken pity on me because she rolled out of bed and rummaged through her nightstand, finally finding what she was looking for.
She squeezed some kind of gel onto her fingers and after lifting her leg onto the mattress, reached behind her and started to make faces as she did something. After a minute, Rose climbed onto the bed and pushed some more gel out of the tube, and began to rub it all over my dick.
“Only put it in about halfway, okay?” Rose warned me as she spooned up in front of me and lifted her leg while grabbing my cock. “Now push, but not hard.”
Suddenly it dawned on me what she was doing, and I felt the tip of my dick try to squeeze into what felt like a keyhole. Rose was grunting, pushing her rear end into me, and finally I felt the head of my dick pop into her.
It felt incredible, and so much tighter than her pussy had been, but as I leaned over her and forced a bit more of myself inside, I saw tears running down her cheeks.
“Rose?” I said.
“It’s okay,” she whimpered, but I felt my dick go limp, and pulled the head out of her as fast as I could.
“What was wrong?” Rose asked, rolling over to face me. “Didn’t it feel good?”
“Well sure it did,” I admitted. “But you were crying.”
“It usually only hurts for a little while,” Rose told me, but that was still too long for me.
“Couldn’t do it knowing it was hurting you,” I confessed. “Good as it might have felt, it wouldn’t be worth it. I liked it better when we were both crying before, because we were happy.”
“I wish I was 30 years younger,” Rose said. “I would grab onto you and never let go.”
“I don’t care about that stuff,” I assured her, and I didn’t care. She looked 18 to me.”
“Let’s take a shower,” Rose suggested, and while we cleaned each other up, Rose got rid of the chronic swelling that seemed to plague me all night, using the same method that had much earlier in the evening.
Chapter Fourteen: Talk of the town.
Needless to say, Rose had not seen the last of me, and to my delight, that was fine with her too. I became a constant visitor to her house. Rose did complain that she couldn’t keep up with me, and that 5 or 6 times a night was more than she could handle, so I tried to keep it to a more reasonable level.
It was still more than Rose probably wanted, but I think she could never get over the fact that somebody wanted her so badly, and not only thought that she was the most beautiful creature on the planet, but managed to make her start to think better of herself as well.
I had to go past the local gin mill to get to Rose’s, especially when the snow started to fall and traveling the back way became impossible. With the ban on smoking in bars taking place, there would be a bunch of guys puffing away out there. Older guys that I didn’t know, or only knew vaguely, but it seemed they managed to figure out where I was going.
“Here comes the hunter!” one of the braying jackasses yelled out one day.
“The MILF man cometh!” was something else I heard as well, along with howls of “COUGAR!”
Some of it I didn’t understand at first, but eventually I got the gist of it. Word had gotten around town, and since it was a small town it hadn’t taken long. It sure as hell wasn’t because of anything I had said, because my lips had been sealed.
“I know you didn’t say anything,” Rose told me one evening, when she appeared to be down about something. “There aren’t many secrets in a place like this.”
I had tried to use various ruses as excuses when I would show up. Shoveling snow or delivering groceries were valid reasons, but apparently some people were not content to let it go. Too bad they weren’t as nosy when Rose was getting her ass kicked all the time, I thought.
“I’m moving,” Rose told me. “Selling the house.”
“Not because of a bunch of rumors!” I protested. “Who cares what a bunch of busy bodies and town drunks say?”
“No reason to stay here now. I lost my job today.”
Rose said that it was because business was bad, but I learned much later that the guy that ran the agency fired her because he didn’t want the business tarnished by a woman working there who was considered immoral enough to seduce kids.
The fact that I wasn’t a kid didn’t seem to matter, and the hypocrisy of some lard-ass insurance agent that had been popped twice for DWI in the last few years dictating morals wasn’t lost on me either, but this was all learned after the fact.
“Besides, I got a letter from Teddy today,” Rose said sadly. “He’s bombing out at school and wants to know if he can come home. If he does I’m not going to be here. Sounds horrible, I know, but I just can’t.
He never did come back, and that was a good thing. I’m not a fighter, as you recall, but if I ever saw him I could guarantee that I would get one good punch in before he killed me. Rose wrote him back to tell him she had moved and didn’t want to see him again. Maybe he moved in with his worthless old man. They deserve each other.
As for Rose, I helped her pack her stuff, and we had a few spectacular nights of lovemaking before the end as well.
“187 times,” I told Rose at the end of our final coupling nearly six months after we had first started. “That’s not counting other activities.”
“Only you would count the times,” Rose chided me.
“I remember every one,” I told her. “The great ones and the really great ones. Those were the only kinds we had.”
“You know, I never thought I would say this, but the day that Jim Kelly answered my ad was the luckiest day of my life,” Rose told me. “You’re a special guy, and I’ll never forget you.”
She moved out to Syracuse where she had a job offer, and although we chatted from time to time electronically and even spoke on the phone a few times, we’ve never met again. My choice more than hers, because she knew how I felt, and getting occasional glimpses of her would only make it worse for me.
“I would marry you if you would have me,” I told her before she left. “We could both move away from here and start fresh.”
Rose declined my offer, saying it really wouldn’t be fair to me as time went on. I told her that I wasn’t like other guys, and the fact that she would be 70 when I was 40 didn’t bother me a lick.
“Not now, but then it would,” Rose told me.
Maybe she was right. I’ll never know.
The last time we chatted, she told me that she had met a man and was getting along wonderfully.
“He’s a real guy,” Rose assured me. “Not a Jim Kelly.”
I told her I was happy for her, and that I had been seeing someone myself. No Rose Price, I informed her. There would never be another Rose Price for me.
“I believe that’s the way I think about you, Robbie. You don’t realize it, but you saved my life. You made me think I was someone worthwhile. Someone that could love and be loved. I hadn’t felt that since I was – I don’t know. Maybe never. I owe it all to you. I only hope that you find someone who makes you feel the way I felt when I was around you.”
Not a bad way for a relationship to end, especially when you consider how it started, I guess.