Brisket Ch. 03byohio©
Driving home from Helen's apartment, I had no idea what had just happened and what it meant. Well, that's not right--I knew what had just happened: I asked her for a blowjob and she gave me one. And she seemed to get into it, too.
But what it meant, and what was going to happen next--that's where I was confused. Did I want to start having sex with her again? Did I even want to see her again?
I put it out of my mind and got on with my life, wondering idly whether the weekly food deliveries would stop. But on the following Tuesday, there was a casserole dish with Helen's chicken cacciatore in it--one of my favorites, as I'm sure she remembered. I made a big pot of rice and had it for three straight dinners.
I still didn't know what to say to her, though, so I left my thanks in a voice message as usual, during the day while she was out. The week after that she left me a pasta salad.
In the meantime I was busy with work, and with politics at work. A new desk sergeant had transferred into the precinct--he was a total pain in the ass, an arrogant jerk, and he seemed to take an instant dislike to Jim.
This was proof that the guy was an asshole; there wasn't a man or woman on earth who didn't like Jim, a gentle, cheerful and totally dependable guy. There's no one I ever knew in the department I'd rather have as a partner, and more than once other guys told me the same thing.
But this sergeant, Buster Rheedon, had it in for Jim for some reason--he even tried to get him docked a day's pay because his time-sheets were supposedly fucked-up. This crap went on for a couple of weeks, until 18 of us went to the captain and said that if Rheedon didn't transfer out, there were going to be some "Blue flu" days starting soon.
The captain was a good guy, and he'd already heard complaints about Rheedon. He gave a big sigh, pushed his cap back on his head, and said he'd take care of it. A week later we heard that Rheedon was moving to the 26th--and good riddance, was how we all felt.
Jim was genuinely touched by how all the guys stood up for him, and he arranged a big bowling night one Friday night for all of us at the local lanes--his treat, beer and all. We had a great time, bowling and drinking and just busting on each other, the usual way cops let down with other cops.
There was a cute waitress who kept bringing our beers and cleaning up our empties--in her mid-30s, with straight blonde hair and a cute figure--and it seemed like she smiled at me each time she passed by.
I wasn't too sure, though, having had a fair amount to drink by then, so I asked my buddy Simon if he noticed it. He just laughed and said, "sure, Rob, she's hot for you. In fact, most women are--you're just about God's gift, you know it?" And he laughed again. Half in the bag, just like me--he was no use.
But the next day, when I was raking leaves in the yard and trying to get over my hangover, I thought of her again, and decided she was attractive enough to be worth a shot. So I showered and cleaned myself up a little, and after dinner I went back to the bowling alley for a beer or two.
Her name was Alice, Alice Maynard. At first I couldn't tell whether her friendly manner, her willingness to laugh and joke around with me in between customers, was just a way of getting good tips. But when I was getting ready to leave and I asked whether I could take her out for dinner and a movie, she beamed at me and said she'd love to.
Was Alice going to be the one? I was a bit old to really believe in "the one," especially after what happened with Helen. But for a while it was all too good to be true. Alice was lively and fun, she loved to dance, and she certainly liked me.
And, it turned out after our second date, she liked to fuck. When I dropped her off after our first date she thanked me warmly and gave me a long kiss before slipping inside her apartment. But the next time she invited me in, and "coffee" turned into a couple of hours of wonderful screwing, and some more the next morning.
Alice had never married, but she'd had a couple of long-term relationships that she thought were going to lead to marriage. The first guy cheated on her: after four years of living together she caught him hammering away at his secretary, right on top of his desk, when she dropped in to surprise him for lunch. And the second guy bailed after she learned she couldn't have kids. (For some reason they'd decided to get pregnant before getting married; and after a year of trying they'd been tested and she turned up infertile.)
So Alice knew all about living with a man, and about pleasing one. Her preference was for a lot of foreplay, lots of touching and licking and stroking before getting down to the fucking. It was what I'd always been starved for with Helen, and I was happy to take my time. Alice loved to have her pussy licked and fingered--that first time I made her cum three straight times that way, while she groaned and cried and jerked around on the bed. And she was also a damn good cocksucker.
Her specialty was lots of licking, up and down my cock like it was an ice-cream cone. She'd suck for a minute or two, get me really worked-up, then back away and lick me for a while, then suck some more. After about twenty minutes of that I was groaning at her, desperate to come, but she eased back off me again and then we finally fucked.
Once I got inside her she was happy to go fast--a damn good thing, as I was ready to blow my nuts. We pounded each other until I shot my cum far up inside her. It was an unbelievable relief, after all that playing around.
The next morning she woke me by spooning up against me, pushing her cute butt back against my dick. It was asleep, but it woke up in no time, and we had a gentle fuck right like that, me slipping into her from behind and quietly rocking in and out, while I held her breasts and pulled on her nipples.
For a couple of months we saw each other at least twice a week, almost always staying the night, whether at her place or mine. She told me about her life--her family and her job, her previous boyfriends--and I told her about Helen and the girls, and my life on the force.
She liked the idea of dating a cop--a man with a gun, a guy who knew how to take care of things. I was more than ten years older but that didn't seem to bother her. I expressed a little concern about that once, as we were lying in bed, and she turned playful.
"You know what they say, right Rob? Age is just a number. You're as old as you feel. And you--" she said with a grin, fondling my half-erect cock, "feel damn good to me."
The sex those first few months was really great. With a new person there's so much excitement, so much eagerness to do everything. It made me remember how things had been when Helen and I first got married, before she turned into ... whatever she turned into.
I wanted to lick Alice everywhere, kiss and touch every part of her. We spent an afternoon stroking each other's legs and arms. I liked to kiss her armpits, run my tongue in there as she giggled. I had never found 69 all that satisfying in the past--too distracting, getting your joint sucked while you're trying to lick a pussy--but we did it often, going slow, no hurry to come or to make the other one come, just enjoying the feelings.
It wasn't just good sex, either. I'd had that with Melinda. In fact, it had probably been a little hotter with Melinda--not only because she was wild (and had those fantastic tits) but because it was only sex, no romance, just the wildest fucking we could manage.
But I liked Alice. She wasn't the cook Helen was, but she was lively and spunky and had a great, optimistic outlook on life. She'd had two broken relationships, and had to nurse her mom through more than a year of dying of cancer, and worked a pretty uninteresting job as a waitress in a bowling alley, but she was cheerful. She thought each day was going to bring something good, and I liked being around that attitude.
We used to get together with Jim and Patty every couple of weeks, and it was clear that they liked Alice too. I was in the kitchen once, helping Patty with the plates while Alice and Jim were outside, and she said, "how's it going with Alice, Rob?"
I said that we were having a good time, and she replied, "this one's a keeper, I think."
I glanced at her and she smiled. "Jim thinks so too. She's smart, cute, has a good head on her shoulders. And she seems to like you, for whatever crazy reason!"
"Thanks, Patty--I appreciate that. Your opinion and Jim's mean a lot to me."
So things were good. Alice and I made a nice couple, the sex was good and the company was good--no complaints. For about five months.
During that time I thought about Helen less and less. She was still leaving me dinners once a week, and I was still calling her machine to thank her. We didn't see each other, though, or even talk on the phone. Linda and Ronnie kept me up to date, letting me know that Helen was doing okay, the catering business was picking up.
I wondered occasionally about the blowjob she'd given me--what made me go over there, why she agreed to do it, what it meant to her. But I didn't think about it a lot, and Alice was keeping me too busy and too satisfied to worry about it.
Until Ted came back into town.
Ted was the asshole ex-boyfriend she'd caught cheating with his secretary. That had been eight years earlier, and he'd moved away to North Carolina at some point. Now he was back, although I didn't hear about it right away.
Alice and I came back to my house on Saturday night from the movies. We'd gone out for a couple of beers afterwards, and I was feeling relaxed and horny. I put my arm around her and started for the stairs, but she stopped me and said, "babe, can we sit in the kitchen for a minute?"
Her look was serious, even concerned, and it stopped me in my tracks. We sat at the kitchen table and she said, "I've got to tell you about ... about something. I haven't said anything until now because there wasn't really anything to say, but ... but now I..."
"Alice," I said, a little impatient, "can you get to the fuckin' point? What do you want to tell me?" I was eager to get this over with and go on up to bed.
"You remember Ted, right? My ex-boyfriend?"
"I've been emailing with him, a little, for a couple of weeks. He wrote to tell me he was moving back here, and would I be willing to have lunch with him.
"So I thought about it, and finally said okay. And last Wednesday we had lunch, over at the Benton Grill."
I certainly didn't like the sound of this--and I had a sinking feeling that we weren't going to be headed on up to the bedroom any time soon.
"Okay," I said, "and...?"
She ducked her head, then looked back at me. "And he ... he wants to get back together. He knows he fucked up when he cheated on me. He married that bitch, that secretary of his, but it didn't last more than a couple of years before she was playing around behind his back.
"And he's dated some other people, but he says he realized that I'm the love of his life. So he took a job downtown and asked me whether there's any way I could forgive him--any way I'd be willing to give him another chance."
"And I'm guessing," I said finally, "that you didn't tell him to take a hike."
"No," she said, "I told him I'd think about it."
My face tightened, and she said, "Rob, look. I am very fond of you, and you've been real good to me. The last few months have been terrific.
"But it's just ... I don't know, exactly... I was in love with Ted. Completely. And he broke my heart with what he did. I hated him for it. But all these years I've ... I don't know, wondered about it. Because I really did think he was the one.
"And now he's back, and he wants me again. And it feels like the right thing to give it another try."
"With a guy who cheated on you like that?" My voice sounded gruff to me. I wasn't angry, exactly--but my throat was tight.
"That's the thing," she said, "I can tell he's changed. It's been nearly nine years. He's quieter--more thoughtful. He's grown up a lot from when he did what he did to me."
There were tears in her eyes. "Listen, Rob, I don't know if it's gonna work out. It might be crazy, what I'm doing. But the fact is, it feels to me like I still love him--in a way I've never loved anyone else."
More silence. She looked at the table, I looked at her.
"Okay," I said. "Should I give you a lift home?"
She raised her face to me, and there were tears on her cheeks. "Rob, I'm so sorry. But I would never ever do this behind your back. You've been so sweet to me, and ..." She never finished the sentence, and started to cry instead.
After a minute she said, "I know this may not work out, with Ted; it may be the dumbest thing I've ever done. But as great as things have been with you, it's not...."
"I get it, Alice. I'm not the love of your life. That's okay," I said. "I never really thought I was." I was unhappy, but what was the point of making her feel worse? Alice was a nice person, and she was being straight with me.
So I drove her to her apartment--nice and slow, because of the beers--and she hugged me for a long time, and gave me a tender kiss, and said thank you and I'm so sorry and a few other nice things, and then she went inside and I drove home again.
I spent a couple of weeks without dating anybody, or even thinking of dating anybody. I worked my shift with Jim, and came home and ate and watched TV, or went out for a couple of beers at the bar the cops hang out in. Once each week I found my dinner on the porch waiting for me, and I left Helen a message the next day saying thanks.
My daughter Linda called to catch up a bit, and she asked how Alice was. They'd met a couple of times and my girls liked her.
"She's fine, I guess, but she's not with me," and I told her the story.
"Oh, daddy, I'm sorry! You deserve to be with someone nice."
I laughed. "I don't disagree with that, honey! But I'm not mad at her--she was honest with me about it, and this guy is her one true love, or at least that's what she thinks."
We got off the phone and I went back to the game. I was watching a car ad a couple of innings later and suddenly thought to myself, "and who's YOUR one true love, Rob?"
I knew what the answer was, but it didn't make me feel any better.
Helen always brought me a dinner on Tuesdays--it was waiting on the porch when I came home from work. One Monday night Jim and I had to work late for back-up on a drug arrest that got complicated, and they wanted every extra car. I didn't get home until after 3 am, so the next day I clocked out at lunch time and went home for a nap. All that middle of the night stuff gets pretty tiring for a guy approaching 50.
I woke up around 4:30, had a shower and got dressed, then went downstairs to read the paper. When I heard Helen's car stop in the driveway I opened the front door and watched her approach, carrying a big bowl covered with tin foil.
She was surprised to see me--shocked really. "Rob! I, uh--I didn't expect to see you. I was just..."
"It's fine, Helen. I was on duty late last night so I took this afternoon off. Would you like to come in for a minute?"
"I, um--thanks, Rob, that would be nice." I held the door for her as she passed by me into the kitchen. She looked nice--hair brushed, a pretty blouse--and she smelled good too.
Turning to me, she said, "it's a paella, with shrimp and chicken and sausage."
"Sounds great," I said, taking the bowl from her and putting it on the table. "Can I get you some coffee?"
Unlike me, Helen had always been able to drink coffee at any time of day. Me, it kept me up half the night if I drank it in the afternoon.
Warily, she said, "yes, thank you." I brought her a cup and got the milk and sugar, remembering how she took it. She watched me the entire time, not saying a word, just following me with her eyes.
I kind of wondered how strange this must be for her--the two of us back in our kitchen again, like we'd been thousands of times--just not in the last couple of years. Not since I'd found about her cheating and thrown her out of the house.
I began talking to her about the kids: about Linda and the latest with her boyfriend, about Ronnie's plans for after college, and she gradually relaxed. Ronnie was finishing a degree in accounting and wanted to move to a big city--either to Chicago to be near Linda, or maybe LA or San Francisco. I figured she was a big girl, she could choose. Helen didn't disagree, exactly, but she worried about Ronnie all alone out on the West coast.
I couldn't stop looking at Helen, while we sat there calmly and talked about our daughters. How great she looked. How weird it was to be sitting here like this, as if our family hadn't been torn apart. As if she hadn't torn it apart.
"Helen, would you like to fuck?" I said it quietly, without getting up or moving towards her. Her eyes went wide and she looked at me for a long moment--a bit frightened, I thought.
"Rob, I--" She stopped. "What ... what would this mean?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. Nothing, maybe. I want to have sex with you, if you want to. If not, you're welcome to say no. I'll still thank you for the food, and enjoy it."
She looked at the table, her cheeks flushing a little.
"I'd like to have sex with you, Rob." Looking into my eyes. "But ... can I ask you to be gentle? It's been nearly two years since ... since anything has been inside me besides a vibrator."
I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. That was a surprise.
"I won't hurt you," I said. After a minute I stood up and offered her my hand. She got up and we walked together up the stairs.
I don't know what I was expecting, but the sex wasn't all that great, or at least not at first. Maybe I was thinking that I'd get "slut Helen," the one who'd been spreading 'em for half the town all those years, rather than "wife Helen," but it didn't work out that way.
Or maybe it was just that it was too emotional, especially for her. But fucking her--I won't say "making love," because it certainly wasn't that--started off pretty disappointing. Helen was very shy; she went into the bathroom, took off her clothes, then came out and went straight for the bed, pulling the covers up over herself.
I wanted to just yank them off and make her let me look at her--but I didn't want to punish her. It was obvious she was nervous.
So I took off my clothes and got into bed, and Helen just rolled towards me and hugged me, burying her head against my neck. We held one another and kissed a little, and after a while I started caressing her back while she worked on my cock with her hands; and then after that her mouth. She absolutely knew how to blow me, though thinking about where she'd learned it still pissed me off.
When she had me nice and hard she looked up and said, almost shyly, "do you want to come on top of me, Rob? Or..."
"Why don't you ride me?" I said. I could tell she was reluctant but I didn't really care all that much. She climbed on and I held her hips as I carefully pushed into her. She was really tight, and not that wet yet, and it took her several tries, sliding partway down and then back up, before she was able to relax down on me, her ass resting against my thighs.
I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feelings. I tried not to think about Helen and me and everything that had happened. Instead I thought, "cunt. I'm inside a nice hot tight cunt and it feels good." I gently pushed up with my hips to get every last inch into her, groaning, and she started to move on me.
I lay back then, eyes still closed, and let Helen grind and swivel around on my cock. I liked hearing her breathing, which got faster when I slid my hands up her sides and held her big breasts. God they felt good! And I realized I hadn't seen them or felt them in something like two years.