Loading...I’m scared, I’ve been scared in the past so I know scared. Forty something years ago I was a part-time rally driver, back before World Rally Championships in pocket rockets with their roll cages and radio contact to their teams and the myriad safety features designed to protect the drivers, I drove what was little more than a standard road car with knobbly tyres at high speeds through twisty fire trails that wound their way through dense bushland with an equally scared navigator yelling the course notes to me. Believe me that was scary.
Why am I scared now? For the first time in years I have a date and it scares me. I had almost given up trying to attract a woman after my wife left me and, because I was so gutted by the experience, I couldn’t face the prospect of failure again. She told me that she still loved me but wasn’t in love with me. She had been told by her friends, who had experience with this sort of thing, that it would ease the pain of my hurt. Bullshit, what did her friends know about my hurt? It was all some sort of relationship psycho-babble designed specifically so that the woman does not feel guilty about her decision to dump her husband. I wouldn’t have been any more hurt if she had told me the truth which was that she had been seduced into having an affair with her boss and wanted to be with him. If she had told me that I would have been able to tell her that I knew her boss and his reputation and that this relationship had no chance of advancing beyond an affair, not that she would have listened to me.
I was saddened when the inevitable happened and thought for some time that I should contact her and offer her some support, but then I heard that she was hitting the hotels trolling for casual sex. I was sad because she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer my calls offering help, but then she always was a proud person, one who would never admit that she could have been wrong. She had to prove to herself that men still found her attractive, even though the men she now attracted would never have rated a second look from her in the past.
How is it, I hear you ask, that if I am so scared that I am actually going on this date?
Well it all sort of snuck up on me when I least expected it. It all started one morning last week; I was driving to the supermarket for my weekly supplies shop when I noticed that her rear tyre was almost flat. I flashed my lights to attract her attention and when I saw her looking in her wing mirror I signalled for her to pull over. “Your back tyre is almost flat, if you keep driving your will damage the tyre and possibly the rim.” I did a quick calculation and worked out that tyre alone for this particular car would cost well over a thousand dollars. She got out of the car and stood looking at her still deflating tyre. “If you pop the boot I’ll change it for you.” (That’s the trunk for you guys in the USA)
“You don’t need to do that, I can call the auto club.”
“And they’ll take how long to get here? I can have this changed before you get sick of the hold music.” She popped the boot and I dragged the skinny temporary spare from its well. “How far are you going?”
“Just to the supermarket, why?”
“That’s okay, these spares are only designed to get you to somewhere that can fix your tyre and you have to be careful when you’re driving because the performance difference between these and the standard road tyre is huge, we don’t want you spinning off on a corner, do we?”
“You seem to know something about this.”
“Well I suppose I should after forty years in the motor trade.” I caught the expression on her face and realised immediately that I had stuffed up. It was time for damage control. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so condescending. Yes I do know something about these things and to make up for my stupidity I’ll go with you to the tyre place, just to be sure that they don’t take advantage of you.”
“Would you? That would be nice because I know nothing other than where to put the nozzle when I have to refuel. My husband used to take care of all of that but he died last year. I guess I should learn.”
I parked my car in the supermarket car park and we drove to a nearby tyre place and I stood back to watch the con. I could see his eyes light up when he looked at the BMW and the cash register in his mind was busily calculating how much he could make on this one. “This tyre is ruined and, even if we could, we aren’t allowed by law to repair it and we can’t put an inner-tube in it because the casing was never designed to take a tube and that leads us to the next problem. With this car it is important that you have tyres of the same tread pattern and wear because any difference, no matter how small, in the rolling circumference will ruin the drive train and looking at the wear on the front tyres they need to be replaced and you will need a wheel alignment, the shoulders are scrubbing badly.” I think he’d just about covered all of the bases.
“And just how much will all of this cost?”
“Four tyres will set you back around a thousand each including fitting and balancing, that’s if we fit the manufacturer’s recommended tyres but I can sell you some equally good tyres made in Asia for about eight hundred each. The wheel alignment will be another hundred that will come to four thousand one hundred dollars, or three thousand three hundred depending on which way you want to go.”
Selena, that’s her name by the way, was thinking about this and looked at me for advice. “Just a moment there, that tyre has picked up a nail and that thing you told her about not being able to by law repair it is so much bullshit. It can be repaired with a tubeless plug so there is no need to replace these tyres and as for the alignment, if you look closely you will note that the fronts still have legal tread and have scrubbed evenly on both shoulders, something that is common to all cars with power steering. I have driven this car and it tracks straight and there is no camber steer, and that indicates to me that the alignment is still good, so why don’t you forget about trying to con this woman and just put a plug in the flat tyre.” He grumbled but did as I told him.
“I hate it when these guys try to take advantage of women, there almost as bad as those that offer cheap services and a free ninety-nine point safety check that’s designed specifically so that they can tell you that they can’t possibly allow you to drive it until they have repaired some totally fictitious terminal problem, which, of course they will charge considerably more than the dealers to repair. I took a car to one place for a new exhaust only to have him call me to tell me that my front disc rotors were dangerously thin and needed immediate replacement. Unfortunately for him it just so happened that I was in my office at home and was able to reach the car’s repair manual that gave me the tolerances for disc rotors, so I asked him how thick they were. They weren’t even half worn.”
The tyre dealer grumbled back and replaced the temporary spare with the repaired tyre and threw the spare into the boot, took his twenty dollars with little grace and stormed back into the fitting bay.
We drove back to the shopping centre and I grabbed my re-usable shopping bags from my car and we walked inside. “Would you like a coffee, my treat?”
“Sure, why not.” There was a coffee shop next to the supermarket and she asked me to grab a table while she ordered, something that was easier said than done, the table that is. I looked around and spied a couple thinking about leaving so I headed in their direction, reaching the table just as they stood up and a nanosecond ahead of a large woman loaded to the gunwales with shopping bags. I ignored the filthy look that she gave me and sat, claiming victory. I looked to the counter in time to see Selena pointing to the offerings in the cake display, I was going to have to be careful here, she might have the metabolism of a racing greyhound and could eat as much as she wanted of whatever she wanted and stay disgustingly slim, but I put on weight just by looking at food.
She sat and put the table number thingy on the table. “I really have to thank you for helping out. I knew that he would try it on about not being able to fix the tyre, I’ve been through that before when my husband was alive but tell me, what was that thing about the cheaper tyres?”
“It’s a bit of a scam, they have realised that many modern European cars have wide wheels and low profile tyres and the factory recommended tyres are very expensive, a cost that many unsuspecting motorists haven’t factored into their budgets, so they’ve hit on the idea of sourcing tyres really cheaply from Asian countries. They cost about a quarter of what they charge the customer so their profit margin is high and, because they’re cheaper than the proper tyres you think you’re getting a good deal, you’re not. The problem with them is that, while the tread looks impressive, the grip is not as good as the recommended tyres. Another problem with them is that they wear quickly and the more they wear the louder they get.”
“You mentioned the scrubbing of the front tyres, Is that a problem?”
“Not really, you’ll have to rotate the tyres, and because they’re directional you can only swap the fronts with the rears, not a diagonal swap like they used to do.”
“You really know a lot about this don’t you?”
“I’ve been involved in one way or another in motor sport pretty much all my life, I’m an Automotive Engineer by profession, or I was until I retired, and I was a part-time rally driver for years and gave that away when it went really professional, I couldn’t afford the time or the cost of running a professional team.”
“So you don’t get involved any more?”
“I still run in tarmac rallies like the Targa Tasmania or the Classic Adelaide, only that didn’t run last year. I’m a member of a car club and we have club runs on a regular basis where a bunch of us get together and drive a plotted course and end up somewhere a couple of hours later.”
“Sounds like fun. What sorts of cars are involved?”
“Some pretty expensive stuff, a couple of Aston Martins, a Ferrari, a Z4 BMW, a bunch of ETypes, MGs, Austin Healeys, Triumphs and like that, there’s usually a couple of dozen cars involved.”
“What car do you drive?”
“Something that feels a little out of place in that crowd but it holds its own quite easily. I drive an STI spec Rex. (For the uninitiated a STI club spec Subaru Impreza WRX)”
“Mid-life crisis car, huh?”
“More like an old age crisis car. I feel young when I drive at high speed on the twisty roads we use, it gets the adrenalin pumping.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?”
“No more than driving to the shops, probably less so. You have a bunch of guys who know their limits and those of the cars they drive, so they don’t get into trouble.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“If you’d like, there’s a run on Sunday, I don’t know the actual course but I’ve heard that we finish up at a winery that has a very good restaurant attached, and I’m looking for a navigator, interested?”
“Only if you promise not to frighten me too much.”
“I promise. We start from the car park next to the oval at 10.15. I can pick you up at 10.00.”
“I won’t have to wear a helmet or anything like that, will I?”
“No, your hair will survive, just wear casual clothes, what you have on will be fine.”
Sunday morning I had a change of heart, no I hadn’t chickened out and decided not to pick her up, I decided to leave Rex at home and take my classic car instead. I got out of bed early and went to my garage where, hidden under a dusty cover sat a car I hadn’t driven for almost a year, a 1963 Daimler SP250 Dart. I pulled the covers off and lifted the bonnet (Hood to you in the USA) to check the vital fluids, they were all topped up and ready. I sat in her and hit the starter, after a slight hesitation she fired up and the little V8 sound as sweet as ever. I let her idle for a while to get up to operational temperature before reversing out to give her a wash. Her silver paint gleamed in the sunlight as I finished with the chamois and stood back to admire her, Selena would look great in her.
A quick shower, a cup of coffee, fill the vacuum flask for the pit stop on the way and I was ready.
“That doesn’t look much like a Rex to me.” Selena said as she opened the door.
“No you’re right, it isn’t. I thought I’d give her a run today, it’s been a while.”
“You’re full of surprises aren’t you? What is it?”
“It isn’t an ‘it’, she’s a ‘she’ and this she is a Daimler. I bought her many years ago and have had her in storage for years, I trot her out on special occasions.”
“So this is a special day is it?”
“You could say so.” We had arrived at the assembly point and several of the members came over to have a look at her. I know it’s a bloke thing but they walked around it several times, lifted the bonnet and peered at the little motor, leaned over to look into the cockpit with its black leather and chrome, all accompanied by suitable comments. It seemed rather odd for these owners of Aston Martins and Jaguars, Maseratis and Ferraris, Porsches and BMWs to be so engrossed by what was probably the oldest car there. Few of them had ever seen one of these in the flesh and they were suitably impressed. Selena stood by me as I introduced her and fielded questions about my pride and joy. She seemed to be at home in this situation and I was beginning to feel close to her.
We were given our course sheet and the person who organised the run gave us some up to date information on likely traffic conditions and cautioning us to stick to the speed limits. “Like that’ll last.” We heard one of the other drivers comment. The cars fired up and moved off, Selena was reading the instructions that gave us distances between intersections and directional changes. The first section was an easy transport leg along the coast before we turned off onto a narrow road that climbed steeply up a hill with plenty of sharp corners to a lookout that we all ignored as we powered past at close to the hundred kilometre an hour speed limit, some close on the low side while others, and we were included in this group were close on the high side.
The road wound down the other side of the hill until it reached a main road where we turned right then a couple of kilometres later left onto another narrow secondary road that wound its way through a mixture of bush and farmland. A left turn brought us onto a ring road that circled a large town before a long 50 kilometre stretch of undulating road with fast sweeping bends along the ridge line until we reached another main road. The Daimler relished the opportunity to stretch her legs on this section of road and the sound of the exhaust fought with the wind noise to make it difficult for Selena and I to talk at anything less than a shout.
There was a pit stop of sorts where the drivers paused for coffee and a chat, passing comments about the performances of the various cars. I had to concede that I was struggling to keep up with the more modern cars around the corners but on the straight she held her own quite well. Selena was getting caught up in my enthusiasm, she grabbed my hand and said loud enough for those around us to hear, “I don’t know, I think that you’re doing extremely well considering that you don’t have ABS brakes, traction or stability controls on your car, you’re holding your own with ability, not technology.” How good was that?
There followed another hour and a half of exhilarating driving before we pulled up in the car park of the destination winery slash restaurant. We weren’t the first car there, neither were we the last. One of the more affluent drivers, he of the Aston Martin Vanquish, walked over and offered me more money than it was realistically worth for the Daimler. I declined his offer. “I couldn’t sell her, she’s been part of my history, I bought her new, and with a bit of luck, she would be part of my future.” He looked at Selena who was talking to his wife.
“Fair enough, you can’t blame me for trying.” He thought about it for a while and I could see that he was just about to increase his offer. Selena caught my eye and shook her head.
“She’s not for sale, at any price.” I told him. He walked away, defeated.
“You weren’t considering selling her were you?” Selena walked beside me as we headed into the cellar door. “Mary told me that he was going to try.”
“No, although his first offer was for an obscene amount of money and he was just about to increase it. You don’t think I should have sold her do you?”
“I would have been disappointed if you had, she’s a part of you and it would be like losing an important body part and I wouldn’t want you to do that.” I was really beginning to like this woman, she understood me in ways that my ex couldn’t or wouldn’t, now if she preferred red wine to Chardonnay I believe that I would lower my guard. She looked at the wines on the cellar list. “I think I’d like to try the Riesling to cleanse the palate and then move on to the Sauvignon Blanc before getting serious with the reds.” She looked at me and I just stood there with a silly grin on my face. “I hope that you didn’t that the only wine I drink is Chardonnay.”
“I hoped that you’d do exactly as you’ve done, I was holding my breath just in case, now I can breath normally.” We sipped and spat our way through the range of wines and agreed on each of them. When we had finished I ordered six bottles of Sauvignon Blanc and six of Shiraz to make a mixed dozen. “If you’d like to order some on my order, you’ll get a discount because I’m on their mailing list.”
“No, I think that what I’d like would be to help you to drink yours.” Was I hearing right? Was she making it clear that she wanted to continue this relationship? What was I going to do if it progressed even further? “I’d like to get to know you a little better, would you have dinner with me tonight?”
“That would be nice.” What am I doing? If I have dinner with her I’ll stuff everything up and that will be the end of it.
“You don’t seem sure of that, you don’t have to you know, but it would be nice. I promise not to devour you.”
“I’m fine, I’m looking forward to it.” So there you have it, I’ve committed myself to the agony of being with a woman again, something that I thought would never happen. Oh well, I’m sure it could be worse, but I can’t think how.
Which brings me to now, I’m spruced up, scrubbed to within an inch of my life, my pits have been squirted, my hair, what’s left of it has somehow been coaxed into behaving itself, my clothes are neatly pressed and clean and the me that stared back from the mirror was the best it’s been for years. Maybe there is a positive to this torture.
She opened her door almost before I had rung the bell and what I was looking at quite literally took my breath away. “Come in why don’t you.” She pointed to a glass of white wine on the coffee table in her living room. “Have a drink while I finish preening, can’t have you taking me out looking like a dag. (An extremely untidy person).
“That’s impossible.”
“Aren’t you kind. I won’t be a minute, make yourself at home, I don’t suggest you turn on the TV, I won’t be that long.” She wasn’t, I hadn’t even finished the glass of excellent wine when she returned. If I thought she looked spectacular before, I was wrong, now she looked spectacular, but I couldn’t even see what she had done. “I’m disappointed,” she said as I held the door open for her, “I was hoping that you might have brought the ‘Rex’ tonight.”
“I thought about it for,’ quick pause to give the impression of thinking, “let me see, half a second, but then I didn’t think that it would project the right image, a couple of old farts rocking up to a fancy restaurant in a young guys car like a couple of posers.”
“Point taken, anyhow we’re hardly dressed for it, are we?”
“You’d better believe it, because it’s my competition car it’s stripped to the bare bones, no back seat, racing seats and full harness seat belts, most of the dash panel has been gutted, no stereo, just necessary instruments. It’s also very noisy, apart from the exhaust that isn’t too loud, there’s mechanical noise.”
“So you thought that you’d impress me by driving your Jag, well I am impressed that you thought of me, and, I must say that you scrub up really well. Shall we go?” Go we did, she directed me to a small restaurant set among retail shops on a main road, it was so small that if you blinked you’d miss it, the front was plain with only the name on the window and a sign on the awning to identify that it was a restaurant that specialised in Mediterranean cuisine, How did she know that this was my favourite?
The spicy aromas that wafted from the kitchen had me looking forward to this meal, if for no other reason than my companion. More of me now looked to the future with this woman in a positive light while that part of me that was afraid of what would happen in the not too distant future was slowly receding. I pushed that bit into the background and resolved to enjoy myself while I had the chance.
“Why so serious?” Selena looked closely at me. “Don’t you like this type of food?”
“No, nothing like that, in fact I love the food. I’m just a little unsure of myself, it has been a while since I’ve found myself dining with an attractive woman, any woman for that matter, and I’m scared that I’ll stuff up the moment.”
“Don’t be. Shall we order?” The waiter was hovering, pad and pen in hand. “I’m going to have the garlic prawns to start, you should try them, they’re not just a bunch of prawns in some creamy garlic sauce that you get served up in other restaurants, these are the real deal, a bowl of hot olive oil with the prawns and chunks of garlic and whole red bullet chillies with a platter of crusty bread to sop up the oil. If you have that as well we’ll both have the same garlic breath so we won’t notice it when I kiss you.” Was she trying to tell me that I wasn’t about to stuff up?
“Sounds good to me, what about the main course, do we stick with the Spanish or do we slip across to Morocco and have a tagine?”
“Tagine it is, and a bottle of Shiraz.” She closed her menu and handed it back to the waiter. I did the same to acknowledge me agreement with the food and wine. This was a woman that exuded self-confidence from every pore and this caused the doubts to set in again, I have never had a relationship with a woman like this, not even in my prime. I tried to concentrate on her and forget about my disastrous marriage and its devastating finale. “Please don’t be afraid of me, I’m not going to eat you alive. Believe me, I’m just as scared as you are.” (Huh, I’ll never believe that). “After my husband died I went through a period of mourning until my well meaning friends tried to set me up with their unattached male friends, there turned out to be very good reasons why they were unattached, it was all about them and what they could get out of a relationship with little or no input. Then one of my friends suggested a dating agency which was an even greater disaster. So I decided that I was better off alone, but that was until I met you. You, Cameron, are every thing that they weren’t and from what I’ve seen so far, you are everything that I thought I would never find, so sit back and enjoy the ride because at our time of life we have to make the most of every opportunity.”
Our conversation took a more positive but light hearted turn and I found that she had this wonderful habit of reaching across the table, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. She would look me in the eyes and this look, this smiling, laughing, I’m with a great guy, look would come over her face and that made me feel more at ease than I ever thought possible. I was being dragged into her mood and soon found myself laughing and joking with her as if I’d known her all of my life, not just a few days.
All too soon the moment I’ve been dreading arrived. I walked her to her door not expecting anything but she surprised me my throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me, passionately, on the lips. “Won’t you come in?” She didn’t wait for my response but turned and unlocked her door and ushered me inside, there was no pretence of offering me coffee, it was another passionate kiss. “I’ve had a wonderful evening and I don’t want it to end now. I know that you don’t have a wife to rush home to, so there’s no reason why you can’t stay with me tonight. I want you to stay tonight.”
“I would love to stay with you tonight, in fact every night except. . . ”
“Except what?” Suddenly she had a worried look on her beautiful face.
“This is so embarrassing for me. I want very much to be with you but I’m scared that I will be a disappointment to you.”
“How so?”
“I had no expectations as far as this evening goes, I didn’t expect that you would want to make love to me, but if, when this relationship progresses to that stage I’m afraid that I won’t be able to meet your needs. Don’t get me wrong I’m not gay if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Then what is it?”
“Well, many years ago when my ex and I were first married we had a very enthusiastic sexual relationship, so enthusiastic it led to a trauma that would affect the rest of our married life and was probably the cause of her looking elsewhere for sexual fulfilment.”
“What happened?”
“She was on top and going for it when, somehow or other, my erect penis was bent double and it ruptured the major blood vessels on one side. After enduring several weeks with this massive lump on the side until the body absorbed the blood, I found that, because the scarring effectively blocked over half of the blood vessels, not only couldn’t I get a full erection and hold it for any length of time but my cock was misshapen, it hung a sharp left near the base and this, combined with the top half being flaccid, meant that I had difficulty even penetrating her let alone bringing her to orgasm.”
“Okay, let me put your mind at rest; there is more to sex than shoving your cock into a pussy and banging away until one or other has an orgasm, in the case of my husband it was usually him, sex is only a part, an important one granted, of a physical relationship. To put it clearly, after enduring my husband’s illness for over a year, during the last six months of which, I never had sex with him, I found that I was satisfied by a close personal and physical contact, hugging him and kissing him at every opportunity. I didn’t mind that I couldn’t have sex with him, I still loved him very much. What I intend that we do tonight is that we go to bed together because I need to feel a man beside me that I like a lot, and would like to love a lot. Just to have you hold me as we sleep is enough for me. Are you interested?”
She knew my answer before I gave it. I got the impression that if she had been in any way unsure she wouldn’t have invited me in and asked the question. “Yes I’m interested.” I took her in my arms and demonstrated my interest.
“Come.” She took my hand and led me to her bedroom. “I need to take off my makeup, if you need to use the loo, it’s in here.” She led me into the en-suite and I wasn’t embarrassed to take him out and pee, I thought that she was probably watching me in the mirror as she wiped the small amount of makeup from her face, but she wouldn’t have seen much. I tucked him away before turning and walking back to the bedroom and stripping down to my jocks and climbing into bed.
She switched out the light as she came back into the room but I saw enough to realise that she was naked. I felt overdressed in my jocks so I took them off and dropped them onto the floor next to the bed. “Hi you.” She kissed me as she slid into the bed, her body sliding down mine. “This feels good, doesn’t it?”
“I have to admit that it’s better than I had hoped.” He was struggling but he failed, even when she caressed him, he did little more than give a jerk before retiring, defeated, for the night.
“It’s all right, don’t worry about now, let’s just enjoy each other’s company, okay?”
“Yes.” I was enjoying the closeness of her, the softness of her skin against mine, the smell of her and her lips on mine. I was laying in this soft bed and I could feel a woman next to me caressing me, my cock, and in the mirror above the bed I could see that I was a stud, nine inches of rampant man flesh if he was an inch. The woman next to me had her mouth on him and I could see her masturbating herself to prepare herself for my monster, she was moaning in ecstasy. Then the dream ended, there was no mirror above the bed and he wasn’t a monster. I jerked awake to find Selena with her mouth engulfing my half hard cock. He was bigger and harder than I could remember.
“At last, you’re awake. I was having such a good time down here with your cock, I don’t know what you were worrying about, he’s bigger than my finger so I think that I’ll manage to get off on him. Don’t think about what’s about to happen or he’ll go down.” She straddled me and, with some difficulty, fed him into her pussy and she literally masturbated me with her pussy muscles, she relaxed as she slid down my shaft and then tensed her muscles and squeezed him as she pulled back, and each time she did this he seemed to get just that little bit bigger. She was in no hurry and neither was I, I didn’t need to pump as quickly as possible in the hope that I’d come before he went limp, she was holding him erect and he was feeling good.
Her happiness was infectious so I began to push up as she came down on him, increasing the pleasure for both of us and it wasn’t long, no more than half an hour before he came into her. The strength with which her pussy grasped him as he emptied into her suggested to me that she had come at the same time, a fact that was confirmed by the look on her face and the satisfied sigh that escaped her lips. She was happy, I was happy, what more could I want?
“I’ve waited a long time for you, a very long time.” She was laying on top of me, looking deep into my eyes. “And now that I’ve found you I’m never going to let you go.” There was a smile in her voice but I could see that she was serious.
“You’ve waited a long time, I’ve waited all my life to find someone like you. How did you do that, you know get him stiff and milk him dry like that?”
“When my husband was in the early stages of his illness he had the same problem that you did, so I learned how to cope with it but as his illness progressed the problem got worse until no amount of manipulation could get it up. He did suggest that I should put him in a nursing home and find myself someone who could satisfy me. He even volunteered a divorce if I had any qualms about a perceived adultery. I loved him even more for that and despaired what I would do when he eventually, inevitably, died. It has taken a while for me to even contemplate a life with another man and then you came along, my knight in shining armour, and swept me off my feet.”
“Do you know that my entire sexual experience, after my trauma, consisted of missionary position, she would lie there with her legs apart with this resigned expression on her face that told me that she wasn’t all that interested in it, or me. I suppose she must have been more animated with her lovers.” I realised as I spoke that this was a real mood depressant.
“Hey, what’s with the sad face?” She placed a finger at the corners of my mouth and pushed them up into a smile. “We’re happy remember.”
How could I stay sad when she was so full of life? I tickled her until she was squirming around and laughing. “Stop! If you don’t stop right now I’ll pee myself.” I stopped and she subsided, panting, beside me. Her hand reached for me and stroked me into life once more. “This deserves a closer look.” She said as she turned around and, straddling my body, engulfed him with her warm, moist, wonderfully talented mouth. What was I to do other than return the favour? My tongue found her clit peeking out from its hood and I inserted two fingers into her pussy. This caused her to increase her efforts and I found that I was rapidly approaching an orgasm. “I have to warn you,” I said from between her legs, “living on my own for so long I sort of got used to farting when I felt like it, and if you continue to get me excited I’m afraid that I might rip one off.” “Like this.” I felt and smelt her gentle fart. “Right, that’s it!” I let one go that rattled the windows and she followed with one just a little less powerful. “Enough! I have to stop because I feel the next one might have lumps in it.” It was back to the 69 action and we were both soon holding each other tightly as we came together.
“Cameron Darling, I have never been able to be myself as much as I am with you. I wish that we had met before either of us met our respective partners. Now we have a lot of catching up, a lot of living to do in what could be a very short time. Next item on the agenda is a shower and then breakfast. Come on, drag yourself out of bed you lazy thing, and help me wash you off my body, I must stink something awful.”
“You stink something wonderful.” I said as I scrambled out of the rumpled bed and followed her to the bathroom. A three minute shower it was not.
Breakfast preparation was a joint effort, I was manning the toaster and the bacon and eggs while Selena was making the coffee and squeezing the oranges for fresh juice. Whenever we got close enough we hugged and kissed, needless to say the preparation was a boisterous, happy and somewhat messy affair, but eventually we sat down to enjoy our combined effort. We had just started on the coffee when the door bell rang. “Oh, I forgot, Ellie’s coming by this morning, she’s my daughter by the way. I guess that you’re going to meet some of the family sooner than you expected.” She got up from the table and headed for the front door.
“Whose car is that in the driveway?” I heard Ellie ask.
“Come, I have a pleasant surprise for you.” She came through the door into the kitchen eagerly dragging a younger version of herself. “Ellie, this is Cameron, Cameron, Ellie.”
“Hi, I’m pleased to meet you.” I held out my hand and Ellie tentatively took it. She looked questioningly at her mother.
“Cameron is my new man friend, I can hardly call him my boyfriend now, can I? We met recently and found that we have so much in common that we seem not to want to apart from each other.”
“But Mum.” That was as far as she got.
“But me no buts. It’s my life and I’ll do with it what I will, and what I will right now is to enjoy the company of a man who’s the equal of your father in every way. I didn’t think that I’d find the ideal man once in my life and now I’ve found him again. I want you to like him as well, do you think that you could do that?”
“Well I guess so, but don’t you think, you know?”
“All in good time. Would you like coffee?”
“Thank you, yes.” She sat down and joined us and soon she was as much a part of our happiness as we were. “Hey, I have a great idea, why don’t you and Cameron come over to my place for dinner tonight, I’m sure that Pete would love to meet him, and I’ll invite Tim and Lisa, we can get the introductions all over and done with at the one time. What do you say?”
Selena looked at me for an answer. “Why not, I’d, we’d like that very much, thank you.” Suddenly I was scared again, what if they don’t like me? What if I don’t measure up to their father? Selena reached over and gently grasped my hand telling me that I’d be okay.
After Ellie left we spent the rest of the day being us, doing us things like going for a walk on the beach and having lunch at a quaint little café on the waterfront and in between all of this we made love. We were almost late for dinner, neither of us liked to be late for things, unlike my ex who would still be putting makeup on her face at the time that we were supposed to be somewhere. I think she did it to make me mad, if so she succeeded. I hated her for it.
They were nice kids. After a few anxious moments while we circled around whether they’d like me or not, the consensus seemed to be that I passed, and we settled down to the sort of things that people did on these occasions. We blokes talked blokey stuff about cars and fishing and golf, while the girls were grilling their mother on the minutiae of our meeting and what was it about me that caught her attention.
I walked into the kitchen with a stack of plates to find Ellie loading the dishwasher. She looked at me with a strange expression on her face. “She hasn’t told you, has she?”
“Told me what?” I was scared again, what was it that she hadn’t told me? Was she an axe murderer, or was it something serious?
“She has to go to her doctor this week to get the results of the latest tests.”
“Tests? For what?” I was shitting myself, I had found the woman of my dreams and now she was being taken away from me, how fucking cruel is that?
“She has a lump in her neck right alongside the windpipe. It could be nothing, we’re hoping that it’s nothing, but. . . ”
“The worst case scenario is that she’ll have to have an operation that may or may not be successful and she’ll need radio-therapy that’s knock hell out of her. I’m not going to let that happen, the combined forces of our will to be together will get us through this, and I’ll be there for her every inch of the way.”
All the tension seemed to go from her. “You don’t know how relieved I am to hear you say that. When I met you this morning I could see that there really was something going on between you and Mum but I had to be sure, I had to know if you were there for the long haul or whether you’d cut and run at the first sign of trouble. I know now and, let me tell you, I’m relieved.” We walked back into the dining room and Selena looked at Ellie who smiled and gave her the briefest of nods. Selena’s eyes welled up with tears and she stood up as I approached her and fell into my arms. “Darling I didn’t have the courage to tell you myself. I wanted to believe that you’d support me, honest I did, but I just couldn’t tell you. I’m sorry for any doubts I’ve had.” Her kiss was long, it was sweet and gentle and told me in no uncertain terms that I had done everything right.
We sat in uncomfortable chairs across from the doctor. Selena was scared, I was scared, but the doctor was confident. “The tests confirm that what you have is a lypoma.”
“Which is what exactly?” I asked.
“It is a tumour, but a benign tumour made up of fatty tissue. There were no cancer cells evident when we did the biopsy from the FNA. This supports the evidence from the ultrasound and the CT scan.”
“FNA, what’s that?”
“It’s a fine needle aspiration, where we stick a needle into the offending lump and draw off enough cells to do a biopsy, it’s not as invasive as cutting.”
“So there’s nothing to worry about?”
“Nothing. We’ll keep a close eye on it and if it appears to be getting bigger we’ll look at cutting it out, but for the moment we’ll let sleeping lumps lie.”
“Oh look, there is something attached to the garage, is that little thing your house?” We had arrived at my house and she was being frivolous now that the uncertainty of the past few weeks had passed. The little thing was a reasonably substantial dwelling that had been in my family for a squillion years and that I’d only just managed to save from the venality of my ex.
I ushered her inside and made her sit in the living room, on this huge leather Chesterfield, while I peeled off into the kitchen for the celebratory drinks, in this case a very expensive bottle of French bubbles. This I put in an ice bucket and placed it on a tray with two chilled glasses and some nibbly things that I had ready. Placing the tray on the coffee table I pulled the cork from the bottle, one doesn’t pop the cork and spray this wine around the room, one savours every drop.
“This is nice.” She said as she sipped from her glass, “The perfect end to all of my worries. I have my man, I have my life back, I have everything that I desire.”
“Not quite everything.” I stood up and held out my hand to her. She rose and came into my arms and we kissed. I led her down the hallway to my bedroom where my bed waited for us with its covers already pulled down. I reached for her, for the buttons of her blouse, for the clasp of her bra, for the waist of her skirt, for the waist of her pantihose and while I pulled them from her, my mouth reached for her pussy, my tongue for her clit.
She reached for me and I rose to my feet and stood there while she did to me what I had done to her, the difference being that while she took my socks off her mouth found him, my reborn cock. The performance anxiety was now gone and he was able to almost stand on his own merits, enough that he entered her with no effort at all. I had now fully entered her life and she embraced me in ways that I’d only ever dreamed of.
I was no longer scared.