Assignation in Atlanta

Author’s note: It has been a long dry spell for thesage. Thanks to all who have e-mailed about my earlier stories. I have not responded personally , but your comments are appreciated, they give me encouragement. Thanks also to those whose votes keep two of my earlier stories, “The Pool,” and “Resurrection,” in the top five percent of stories rated in the Mature category. That too encourages me.

Sue Johanson,Canada’s sex advice guru for the elderly, says that thirty per cent of women over eighty continue to enjoy sex but, “finding a man that age with working parts is another story.” I write for those whose parts still work, those who wish they did, and all those of mature years in whom desire and romance still live.

Fiction comes out of imagination and experience. Characters come out of people we have known, or heard of, or met in other fiction. Hence, characters and stories on some level will resemble actual people and actual events, but such resemblance, as always, is purely coincidental.

*****

Sarah’s death was sudden. Married nearly fifty years, Sam was lost for awhile. Six months later he filled his days, but evenings were lonely. One night, dozing and pondering his working years, his eyes flew open with a realization. The day of Sarah’s funeral marked the thirtieth anniversary of a watershed in his life. That recollection set him on a new course of remembrance.

Sam had been a civil servant. He deprecatingly called himself a “ minor bureaucrat,” but he had been a senior official in the West Coast office of a Federal agency. Once a year he met with his counterparts from the other regions in a three day conference, and occasionally he was called to Washington to consult on some aspect of his agency’s operation.

The conferences were intense. Work sessions ran from early morning to late at night, often generating conflict as disagreements arose. The consultations were more relaxed, following the normal work schedule of the headquarters office.

At the first conference they attended together, Sam developed an easy rapport with his counterpart from Atlanta, Emily Craswell. A woman his age, she was soft-spoken, genteel, warm and dignified, her Southern manners a contrast to his openness and his brusque Yankee ways. But they saw eye-to-eye on business matters and there was a synergism in their contributions that often carried the day as opposing ideas were thrashed out.

Three years after they met, both were called to Washington to confer on a management matter.They looked forward to working together again, and arranged their flight schedules to arrive at the same time. Emily asked Sam to arrange their accommodations, they met in the airport and rode the shuttle downtown.

They dined together and retired to their separate rooms, pleased at their reacquaintance. Next morning they ate breakfast together and went together to their meeting.

The first day was filled with intensive briefings, and they returned to their rooms with a stack of material to review for the next day. They collaborated on the review, and again they were struck by how well they worked together.

The second day was less intense with no homework. That evening there was little to discuss about work, and their conversation turned to personal matters. They learned something about one another, and Emily told him she was worried about her job.

There had been a change of the political party in power, and Emily had a new boss, a political appointee who didn’t want a woman on his top staff. Discrimination was illegal but the law is often the last concern of political appointees and it is easy for high level managers to create untenable situations for subordinates they want to get rid of. Sam saw that happening to Emily, but she had been dedicated and successful so long she couldn’t see the handwriting on the wall. Fighting to keep her job, she leaned on Sam for support.

They found they could talk to each other freely, something neither could do with their own spouses. This affinity and their mutual stress about Emily’s situation was driving them together. They hadn’t planned for this and both fought it mightily, but the night before they left they succumbed to their sexual tension and made love.

They weren’t easy cheaters and were inhibited, their lovemaking perfunctory, more physical relief than true lovemaking. Nonetheless they coupled and came together twice, and for Sam his orgasms were the most intense he had ever experienced. They held each other through that night, and cried when they parted.

Sam was profoundly disturbed. At that moment he would have thrown away everything he had to stay with her but it was out of the question. He hoped that time and distance would ease the feeling but it didn’t.

They stayed in touch long-distance, and Sam provided what support he could as Emily wrestled with her problem. In the end she faced reality but she was able to find an equally responsible position in another branch of her regional office.

As her crisis approached, Sam offered to go there to provide her support. He wasn’t sure how he’d deal with it if she accepted, and he was relieved but a little hurt as well, when she refused. Perhaps there was a message there, and over time as he gradually overcame his memory of her he wondered about that.

For a long time though, she was in his mind every waking moment. They kept in touch, but after the first few months Sam was the only one who called. As she settled into her new job it was apparent she was avoiding him. She was out of the office or in a meeting. They said she’d call him back but she never did.

Eventually Sam bowed to this reality but he never forgot her. Over the years, a week rarely went by that he didn’t think of her, and his greatest regret was he hadn’t shown her how good a lover he could be. From the moment they parted he was sorry he had been so inhibited, so intent only on relieving his own tension.

Alone now, he began to obsess about this recollection, and to brood about Emily. One day he engaged an internet locator service to see if he could find her.

Indeed there was a woman in Atlanta by that name. The particulars matched her age and background, and the woman was widowed. For days Sam agonized over the information, wondering if it was the same woman, and if he’d be a complete fool to contact her. She had terminated their relationship, however gently, and he often wondered if he had merely been a shoulder for her to lean on as she fought through her personal problem.

Life had taught Sam the truth of the adage that you can’t go back, but one day he realized that the only way to resolve his obsession was to call her. With his heart in his throat he dialed her number, holding his breath as the phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Is this Emily Craswell?”

“Yes it is.”

Emotion rose in his throat. “Mrs. Craswell, do you remember a man named Sam Franklin?” Through a long pause his heartbeat thundered in his ears.

“Why - why yes I do. Is this Sam?”

“Yes it is Emily, how are you?”

“I’m fine. It’s nice to hear from you. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I think of you often, and I decided to see if I could find you.”

“Why in the world would you want to do that?”

“Once, for a very short time we were close. I never forgot you and I think of you often. I’ve been alone for awhile, and I thought I’d like to talk to you again.”

“Oh Sam, you surprised me. I’ve thought of you many times over the years too, but I thought I’d never hear from you again. I’m so pleased you called.”

When she got over her initial surprise, Emily warmed to their reacquaintance. The years fell away and they found they were talking as easily as before. Sam’s heart lifted, and Emily seemed almost coquettish.

Finally, there was a long silence. They were talked out. Sam asked, “Emily, may I call you again?”

“Oh, Sam, please do. I enjoyed this so much, I wish I could see you again.”

“Well let me think about that. I’d love to see you too. I’ll call you again, soon.’

Sam hung up the phone, his heart racing. He’d been put off by her initial coolness, but when she recovered from her surprise, her response was more than his wildest dreams.

He had visions of flying to Atlanta immediately and finishing what he had started thirty years ago. But at seventy he didn’t have the equipment he had at forty. Furthermore, he wasn’t sure what her interests would be. Advancing age impacts women’s desires, as it does men’s ability to perform. But those were concerns for the future, for now he was happy she was there and seemed eager to see him again.

Quickly he looked up flight schedules and fares to Atlanta. It was less expensive if he booked three weeks in advance. He thought about ignoring the cost, but a little voice inside told him to slow down, his emotions were overriding his good sense. He did think about it over a long and sleepless night but his eagerness didn’t wane. Next morning he called Emily, suggesting he fly to Atlanta three weeks hence.

“Sam, do you think that’s wise? I’m an old woman now, not at all what you remember.”

Sam chuckled, “Look babe, do you think I haven’t aged? I weigh about what I did the last time you saw me but a lot has migrated from the ends to the middle. I’m wrinkled, my old man’s muscles are scrawny and ropy, I’m covered with age spots, and there isn’t much hair left on top.”

Emily burst out laughing. “Sam, Sam, good old Sam, you never gave yourself proper credit about anything. I’m sure I’ll find you as handsome as ever. Why don’t we exchange pictures? We need to be able to recognize one another when I pick you up at the airport.”

Sam was taken aback for a moment by the finality in her statement, but he remembered another characteristic that had drawn him to her. Her soft speech and gentle ways masked a steel temperament, and when her mind was made up, you better get out of the way. He smiled, realizing she was determined they were going to meet again. He made a mental bet that if he didn’t go to Atlanta, he’d soon find her on his doorstep. His heart swelled. He had truly been in love with this strong-willed, capable woman all those years. Now wild horses couldn’t keep him away.

They agreed to exchange photos, and talked about how long Sam should stay and where. “Sam, I still live in the house I grew up in and it hasn’t held a man for a long time. You’re more than welcome to stay here and I’d be honored if you did.” The matter was settled, and from then on they spoke daily, their discussions becoming ever more intimate.

Emily’s photo arrived. She had aged of course, her hair was white and she had gained weight, though she was nowhere near fat. Indeed he thought she looked better than before.

They were in mid-career when they first met, both eager and hard-driving. Though not a raving beauty, Emily was a physically attractive woman who kept herself in good condition. When she was determined about something her face could develop harsh planes but there was no hint of that in her recent photo, it reflected only maturity, calmness and wisdom.

He remembered times when they hadn’t seen eye-to-eye on business matters he’d seen that look of determination. He was strong and determined too, but they had negotiated through their differences and achieved mutual solutions. Threshing out their differences generated good decisions, and he now realized this was the source of their effectiveness in their work. They played off one another in negotiations with others, and usually persuaded them to their point of view.

Both were strong-willed, capable people who worked well together on business matters. Sam wondered how this would translate into an extended personal relationship, but that was another problem for the future. Now it was enough to just see her again.

For years Sam had agonized about his poor performance as a lover before. He wanted to apologize for that and to warn her that he now suffered erectile dysfunction, but he was uncomfortable about approaching the subject. As their discussions became more intimate though, they slid into it easily. Sam wasn’t sure if it came out of their rapport or if Emily had deliberately led them to it, but when the issue was opened he plunged in.

“Emily, I’ve been ashamed all these years about what a lousy lover I was. I was terribly inhibited that night and I was thinking only of myself. I should have done better for you, and I’ve regretted it ever since.”

“Sam, we didn’t go there expecting to have an affair. Neither of us wanted to cheat but it turned into something we had to get out our systems. I was inhibited too, and passive, but Sam, for all that I never had it better. I never could get you out of my system, Sam. I’ve dreamed about you and dreamed of us being together again. I want you.”

“Well, babe, don’t expect too much. You know the old story, The joys of youth have come and gone, The flame has just gone out. What used to be my magic wand, Is now my water spout.”

Emily burst out laughing, “Oh Sam, we aren’t kids any more. I’ll be happy with anything we can have together, but I’ll tell you this. I thought I’d never have another lover and I’ve been dry as a prune for God knows how many years. Sam, just talking to you has me flowing like a fountain. I need you Sam, you better get back here.”

Well, that generated a stirring in Sam’s loins that he hadn’t felt in years, and he shivered at the sensation of pre-cum oozing down his urethra. His voice trembled as he said, “Two more days, babe.”

They hung up, and Sam pondered her words and his reaction to them. The memory of their last night together thirty years before, was vivid in his mind.

For several evenings they had clung to each other in silent agony over their mutual longing and their indecision over what to do about it. Each night Sam had gone back to his room leaving them both unfulfilled, but the last evening, he spoke.

“Emily, I want to make love to you.”

She looked up at him with tear-stained eyes. “Sam, we shouldn’t.”

He looked down at her. “Can we stop?”

Sadly, she shook her head. Then they kissed deeply and passionately, the longing of the previous week, and the underlying tension of all their previous meetings finally given expression.

She led him to the bed, and sat him down, saying, “I need to get ready.” She went into the bathroom, and returned wearing a sheer gown, open at the front. Sam gasped at her naked beauty. Softly she said, “All right Sam,” and climbed onto the bed.

He undressed, and lay down beside her. They kissed again, and Sam slid his hand down her body. She gasped as he brushed her erect nipple, then his hand continued downward. She was wet, and he slipped his finger into her sopping pussy. She groaned, and pushed up against his hand.

The need burned strong in them, and that was the end of their foreplay. Sam rolled on top, and stropped her pussy with his cock. She stirred beneath him, but she didn’t spread her legs wide enough for him to penetrate fully. He entered her, and began to thrust.

At first she lay unmoving, so passive he wondered if he had been wrong to push them into this. Then passion overtook her. She hooked her heels behind his ankles so hard it hurt, and began to push him deeper with slow and powerful pelvic thrusts. He matched her rhythm, and realized that she now controlled their lovemaking.

As they climbed the peak, Sam felt as though she was drawing out his very essence, and they came together in an orgasm so violent that he groaned, something he had never done before.

Both of them subsided quickly, troubled by their unaccustomed cheating, and frightened by the intensity of their mutual reactions. Brusquely Sam said, “Let’s get cleaned up.” They walked naked into the bathroom, avoiding looking at each other.

Sam washed himself while Emily showered. He finished, returned to the bedroom, pulled on his shorts, and sat down on the edge of the bed, shaken by the power of his emotions. He had hoped that consummating their lust would relieve his feelings but they were more intense than ever.

She returned wrapped in the sheer gown, and lay down while he sat on the edge. They stared at each other for a long moment. Sam sighed, and said, “I thought that would get you out of my system.” Tears sprang to her eyes, she flushed with anger and looked at him reproachfully.

He lay down next to her, saying softly, “Emily, Emily, I’m sorry I said that.” He wrapped his arms around her and she responded with warmth. They repeated their earlier performance, and again Sam’s orgasm was the most intense he’d ever experienced.

This time they lay quietly together in the afterglow, Sam profoundly disturbed by the experience. After a time he sighed. “Well, where do we go from here, babe?”

“We go back to our lives. I love you, Sam.”

“I love you too, Emily.”

They held each other, and cried. The rest was history.

Sam sighed, his thoughts returning to the present. He was leaking pre-cum like a bull elephant in musth, and that was his state for most of the next two days. He dwelled on the memory of their brief time together, and was torn with uncertainty about whether any of it could be recaptured.

He boarded the airplane in a sweat over what he would find when he got there. The flight was the longest five hours he ever experienced.

They agreed to meet by the baggage claim area, Emily to wear a yellow dress that would make her stand out in the crowd. Sam rode the escalator down and saw her waiting by a pillar. As he approached, she recognized him and gave him an enigmatic half-smile. He couldn’t fathom its meaning.

He collected his bag and strode to where she stood. She came to him and they embraced, speechless. She clung to him for a moment, then stiffened and pushed him away.

“Let’s go home Sam.”

He thought her reaction strange, but she led him to her car and drove out of the terminal. When they were out of the airport complex, Sam studied her face. The pounds she added over the years softened the angularity in her features, and there was no sign of the harshness Sam had seen before when she was driving toward some goal. This was a mature woman’s face, relaxed and serene. Seeing her in the flesh he still thought she looked better than before.

She glanced at him. “Stop staring Sam, you’re making me uncomfortable.”

“You’re so lovely I can’t take my eyes off you.”

“You’re still full of it, Sam.”

Late afternoon now, they dined in a restaurant, then went home. Desire had been rising in Sam from the moment they met and he sensed the same in her.

Emily’s house was on a tree-lined street of stately Victorian homes. They went in. Emily said, “There are seven bedrooms in this mausoleum. You can have any one of them.”

Quietly, Sam said, “I didn’t come here to sleep alone.”

She smiled at him, “I didn’t think so.”

She took him by the hand and led him upstairs. Her room was large and airy, filled with feminine touches. Her scent was there, filling the room with her presence. It awakened the memory of their earlier meeting, and Sam was surprised by the delicious sense of a rising erection, a sensation he hadn’t felt for a long time. He wondered if it would last.

She said, “Make yourself comfortable, I’m going to change.”

She disappeared into another room. It had been a long stress-filled day, and Sam’s feet hurt. He sat down, sighed, and took his shoes off, savoring the relief. When he looked up, Emily was striding toward him.

She wore what had to be the same diaphanous gown she had worn thirty years ago, and she was indeed more beautiful than he remembered. Her nakedness raised his desire to lust and he felt himself grow harder. Moisture glistened on her pubic hair as she came to him, her bosom at his eye level. She came close to put her hands on his shoulders and draw him to her. He nuzzled her breasts and she gasped at the touch of his mouth. He slid one hand down her abdomen to touch her drenched pussy. She pushed onto him for a moment, then pushed away.