Life Next Ch. 02

byC.C. Rider©

“How long were you and Rebecca together?” she asked, looking at me finally, calmly, seriously.

“Twenty-one years.”

“Twenty-one years, and now you think you can walk into my life, we can just pick up where we left off as kids?”

“You think that’s wrong?” I was shaking and I felt sick to my stomach.

She shook her head and looked down. “No. It’s that I don’t believe you, Mark.”

I had no idea what to say. After a moment, she continued, looking at me with hurt eyes.

“Jesus, Mark, I wondered why you wanted to see me, what you were going to say. I thought maybe you wanted me to sleep with you, a one-night thing. I thought that maybe I could do that, though lord knows it would hurt, but that maybe you were lonely and I could do that – we could do that. But I didn’t expect this.

“I think you’re lonely, Mark,” she said, “and I don’t trust you right now”.

I looked away and put my fingers on my furrowed brow. That hurt, and I was trying to focus. I knew that whatever I said next, it had to be from my heart. I looked back at her.

“Look at me, Addie.”

She did.

“I don’t think things through, like you do,” I admitted. “I am way too impulsive, and I am sorry about that. But I am also a simple man with simple thoughts, and I KNOW this – I love you.”

She swallowed.

I could have said something about taking things slowly, meeting on occasional weekends, but it wasn’t what I felt. I decided to say it. “Yes, I want you to come home with us to Vegas. I want you to come live with Rachel and Jeffrey and me, starting tomorrow. I’ll pay your rent out here till we can move all your things; I’ll take care of everything.” I waited. Her eyes were closed. I had to say something

“If you don’t love me, just so no.””

Looking at her, I believed I knew what she was thinking. She hadn’t rejected the idea outright. There were complications.

“I want you to stay with me tonight, and then in the morning we’ll swing by your house and get your dog and some of your things…”

“How did you know I have a dog?”

I sighed and leaned forward and put my face close to hers. “Because you love dogs. Because of course you have a dog.” I put my hand over my heart. “This is ME you’re talking to.”

She looked at me skeptically. “I’m not saying I am coming, but do you even have a place for a dog?”

I smiled. I might have survived. I had a chance. “Addie, we have a huge, walled-in, back yard with citrus and palm trees and a big pool, and we have a friendly, loveable old hound dog named Bo.”

“Cubby’s a lab mix. He’s very sweet.”

“He’s more than welcome. Cubby will love Bo, and the pool.”

She looked away in thought and I sensed her confusion and apprehension.

“You’re right;” I said, “I am lonely. But I know what I want. I have no doubts.”

She looked back at me and sighed and pursed her lips, like she didn’t know what to say, what to believe.

“You still don’t trust me?” I sighed.

“I’m a little overwhelmed. I…”

I waited, but she couldn’t complete the thought.

“I know you, and I know what is going on in your head – Addie, you think too much.” Her eyes went wide, and I thought I saw recognition, as if she might believe what I would say next.

“I was too young. I hadn’t lived enough lifetimes. But I’m all grown up now. My childhood wounds have healed.” I started using my hands to emphasize my points. “And I believe we are right where we are supposed to be, Addie. Right here. Right now. You have to believe me. And you can trust me with your heart this time.”

She wrapped herself around me and whispered in my ear. “I love you,” she said in a whimper.

“But do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

<><><><>

“I’ll bet that asshole Rob didn’t even like Cubby,” I said with a sly smile. I had my arm around her as we walked into the hotel.

“No he didn’t,” she said shaking her head and, no doubt, marveling at the breadth of my intuition.

“Why did you ever let that bastard move in with you?”

“Because I couldn’t have you.”

<><><><>

I rented a room just down the hall from the kids. I asked the desk clerk to send up a hotel robe and a traveler’s pack with a toothbrush and the like. When we got up to the kids rooms, Jeff was bouncing on his bed in our room, and Rachel was watching TV in hers. I asked Rachel to come over. She sat on the edge of the bed. Jeff stopped bouncing. Addie was standing by the door with her hands clasped in front of her, looking a bit self-conscious, like she had an audience with the queen (which was almost true) and didn’t know the protocols.

“We decided that it was too late for Addie to drive home,” I announced, “so she has a room here at the hotel, and I am going to help her get settled. I need to talk to Addie, too, so I want you guys in bed AND asleep when I get back.”

“Roger that,” said Jeff, and he started bouncing on the bed again.

I looked at Rachel, the only responsible member of the family now that Rebecca was gone.

“Can I count on you, sweetie?”

She gave me a cold, disapproving look, like she knew exactly what I was up to. I honestly didn’t care if she did. Rachel had been, for the past eight months, the only female in my life, and I am sure she felt Addie was a threat. But I hadn’t made love to a woman in almost two years, and I wanted to tell Rachel that her mother would understand, that it would be okay. And then I had an eerie premonition, like Rebecca was right behind Rachel, stroking her long golden hair, telling her everything would be all right. This all happened, the thoughts and the vision, in less than a second.

“I’ll make sure he gets to sleep,” Rachel said begrudgingly.

“Thank you.” I said. I wanted to whisper, “I owe you one sweetheart,” but refrained. I wrote down the room number.

“But don’t bother us unless it is an emergency,” I said to Rachel. “Half an hour, then lights out, and Jeffrey?”

“Yeah dad?”

“No more bouncing on the bed.”

He went spread eagle in the air, like he was doing the Lipton Iced Tea plunge, and fell flat on the bed.

“Roger that,” he said again.

“Good night you guys,” Addie said bravely, waggling her fingers goodbye.

When we were walking down the hall, Addie said, “I think she’s on to us.”

“I know she is,” I said. “She is watching us through a crack in the door right now,” I surmised, so I reached behind Addie and gave her bottom a firm squeeze.

“Oh my,” she exclaimed.

“She’s definitely on to us now.”

<><><><>

The door to the room closed. A large terry robe was laid out on the king-sized bed. My heart was racing and my palms were clammy. I felt anchored in place. Addie turned to face me.

“Big bed,” I said, trying to at least lighten my own mood.

“Yes it is,” she said with that familiar flirt in her eye.

I was walking towards her, to kiss her, to begin again what we had started as teens but never finished. She was right, I thought. It was presumptuous and selfish of me to think I could walk back into her life after a twenty-one-year relationship with a woman I loved so deeply. Did I expect Addie to replace Rebecca or fill the void she left? No, not at all; I was sure of that. Before we kissed, I would say what I felt. I took her in my arms.

“I couldn’t go on knowing you were out there and not be with you.”

“You did okay for a long time,” she said with affected good cheer, the bitterness leaking through.

“Can you forgive me?”

“I’m going to try,” she said.

“I understand,” I said kissing her cheek. “Let’s start over, a new life. This is the world as it is given to us.” I paused dramatically. “What do we do next?”

Addie shrugged and threw up her hands. “Take a shower?” she said with a shrug.

I laughed and we kissed. I now knew she had given this part some thought. We had showered together many times when we were younger, just not in this order.

“Before instead of after?” I asked.

“I just thought it would be a way to get our clothes off without all the fuss.”

Such a direct girl. So the first thing we did in our new life, our life now, was undress and hop in the shower.

<><><><>

“She is shorter than I expected,” Rebecca had said of Addie after meeting her at our tenth reunion some seventeen years earlier. Rebecca was tall and slender.

“Yeah, but she’s got great tits, doesn’t she?” I retorted with a broad smile and raised eyebrows. Rebecca’s breasts were beautiful, but compared to Addie? Let’s just say that would be like comparing a Ferrari to a Rolls Royce.

“I suppose there big,” Rebecca said with her familiar and perfected you-are-so-juvenile stair.

“No, they’re not just big. I mean they are really tremendous tits, I know from experience…”

“All right, stop.” Rebecca shook her head and smiled, exasperated.

“What? You started it with the catty short reference,” I finished.

<><><><>

I was standing behind Addie in the shower exploring her frontally with soapy hands and I thought about that long ago exchange and laughed.

“What?” Addie rightly inquired.

“I have very fond memories of these,” I explained as I ran my grateful hands over her breasts.

“I almost had breast reduction surgery once.”

I froze. “Oh my God, why?”

Addie turned around and put her arms around my neck.

“Rob thought they made me look matronly.”

“Goddamn, he really was fucking gay,” I said with indignation.

Addie laughed out loud and then kissed me on the mouth excitedly.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?”

“That is the first time that I’ve been able to laugh about that.”

“About him?”

“Yes,” she said with a smile. “And you’re safe, by the way. I’ve been to the doctor.”

“So you think we’re really going to do it this time, finally?” The hot water was pelting us. The room was filling with steam like it was generated by my desire.

“I’m thinking we could have a breakthrough.”

<><><><>

Poor Addie was trying to dry off and I couldn’t keep from pawing at her.

“Sorry, I’m kind of horny,” I apologized as I nuzzled her neck and ran my hands over her curvy hips. She looked so good to my eyes; I couldn’t wait. I started maneuvering her towards the bed.

“My back is still wet.”

“I don’t care.”

We toppled on to the sheets.

“This feels so right to me,” I breathed into her mouth as we kissed.

“Me too,” she mumbled into mine.

“We have all the time in the world, I know” I said as I pushed her gently on her back, “but I want to make love to you right away, before you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Addie said pulling my head down and kissing me.

“I know,” I sad, not altogether certain of it, “ but somehow it seems urgent.”

I was poised to enter her. “Besides,” I said, “I think we’ve logged enough foreplay-time.”

She smiled. “I’ve been waiting a long time,” she said to encourage me.

I closed my eyes; I could pretend we were young again, and this was finally our moment…

<><><><>

After school, back when we were just eighteen (just kids, I now know), I would slip down into the Litton’s partially finished basement through the old root cellar door. Addie would meet me there under the ruse of needing a quiet place to do her homework. She’d lock the basement door, explaining she didn’t want her little brother Joey or her big, hairy mutt Bear coming down there to bug her while she was studying.

There was a guest bedroom with a small bathroom off of it, and we used that bed to explore our budding intimacy. The first few times we would just lie on the bed, fully clothed, and pet and kiss. As things progressed from one encounter to the next, Addie went from hesitant to eager. We discovered, together, that Addie was fairly easily aroused, highly sensitive, and, ultimately, wildly orgasmic.

We never made love, but that’s a little bit like saying we never went swimming just because we didn’t get our hair wet. Throughout almost any encounter, we could hear Addie’s mom, the very proper, church-going Mrs. Litton, padding around the kitchen above us. It was comic, in retrospect – us trying to keep the bed from making noise, me hurrying to hand her a pillow so she could bury her face in it (when that was necessary).

It got to the point where I would undress before Addie had even arrived. Then she would rush in and we would grab each other and group our various naughty parts. In moments, Addie would have her shoes off and her pants and panties on the floor. She’d push me back on the bed, crawl up my torso, and smother me like she was in dire need of life-saving cunnilingual resuscitation.

I didn’t know what I was doing, of course, but it didn’t take an anatomical scientist to figure out what she liked. I would wrap my arms around her from behind and grasp her ample breasts (unfortunately, her top would usually still be on – who had time for that?) and squeeze my elbows against her naked, undulating hips. I could tell by her breathing and the vibrations singing inside of her when it was time; then I would take a deep breath and hold it, stick out my wagging tongue, and make sure my nose was properly situated. Then I would and plunge myself full-facially into the task at hand. I had to be sure Addie had a pillow in hand before doing this.

She could carry on for quite a while, doing something akin to yodeling into her pillow, leaving me to gasp for occasional breaths. Finally, I would detect a seismic disturbance inside of her, followed by a spastic shudder and a brief gush of vaginal juices, and then she would shiver and bolt off of me, as if the slightest additional ministration would have caused her to explode.

I had a mustache back then, and it would be drippy wet, and on occasion, even my sideburns would be affected. My face would be so damp that I would have to clean up in the little bathroom just a step away. The first time this happened, Addie was aghast.

“Excuse me,” I whispered, crawling over her spent and naked-from-the-waist-down body.

“Are you okay?” She leaned up on her elbow.

“I’m fine,” I assured her, “I’m just going to um…” I pointed at my mustache, “dry off a bit.”

“Was it that bad?”

“It was fine.”

“Oh my God, I am so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be,” I said, splashing water on my face. And then I couldn’t help it; I started laughing.

Addie fell back on the bed and covered her face with her hands. I hurriedly dried my face and jumped on the bed next to her.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I loved it. It’s great.”

She resisted when I tried to pull her hands from her face, so I kissed her hands.

When her hands finally parted, I looked into her pleading, gold-flecked eyes.

“Addie, that was fantastic, that’s why I am laughing. That was more fun than two human beings should be allowed to have.”

“Really?” Her eyes tightened and her forehead furrowed and she looked so sweet and fragile.

“Yes, I mean it… wasn’t it?”

She thought about it, and then her eyes went wide and a devilish grin crossed her face.

Once Addie’s ravishing carnality was temporarily sated (and I was dry), I’d take off her top and worship her tender, bodacious bosom. My favorite way to do this was to lie on my back and have her straddle my stomach and dangle her breasts above my face. I’d suckle her taught nipples and run my tongue around her large, dimpled areolas. Sometimes, down below, I’d push my aching member a little too close to the destination it craved. “Ah ah,” she’d have to say. I don’t know why I made her fight me like that. (We played it like a game, and we were good-natured about it, but in time it would take it’s toll on me.)

To finish our afternoon encounters (“homework time” as we then facetiously – and now I think somewhat ironically – referred to it), Addie would attend to my needs. She was fascinated by my appendage, and I couldn’t have been any happier for it. I showed her some hand techniques but I couldn’t tell her what to do with her mouth.

“We’ll just have to try all kinds of things,” she said with a Cheshire Cat grin one afternoon, much to my delight.

So I would lie with my hands behind my head and close my eyes and enjoy, occasionally offering words of encouragement if something felt particularly good.

The first time I ejaculated in her presence (the same day she’d first wet my face), Addie was lying on her stomach, perpendicular to me with her head on my thigh, and I was encouraging her to stroke me more vigorously.

“Faster,” I managed to sputter.

“Faster?” I heard through the fog of my condition. I suppose she thought she was working me fairly aggressively.

“Yeah. It’s okay.”

“Like that?”

“I think I’m going to come.”

“What?”

It was too late to explain.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, and then “oh no,” and I could feel her moving my spurting member around like she didn’t know which way to point it. By the time I was through there were little splashes of me on her shoulder, the sheets, my stomach, and even a few droplets in her hair.

She was looking at me like she thought she might have injured me. I smiled at her.

“Oops,” was all I could say.

“I never imagined that,” she replied.

I was still burbling below when she took her cum-drizzled hand away. She got up on her elbows, holding out her goopy hand like she didn’t know what to do with it. She surveyed my flagging, sticky member and the rest of the scene and offered this opinion:

“This sex stuff can be kind of messy, can’t it?”

I laughed, and that got her to smile. She looked at me with her flirty eyes and I could tell she had come full circle on this situation; she was suppressing a giggle.

“I’ll try to give you more warning next time,” I offered, “assuming…”

“I’ll just have to be better prepared,” she interrupted with assurance.

And then we showered together in that little bathroom, as we would many times after that. (She told her mom she liked to shower before dinner – this gave her another excuse for locking the basement door.)

Eventually Addie took to swallowing (that generous and adventuresome appetite I so admired). She said it was less messy that way. We didn’t fuck, and that seemed so fucking important to me back then; I had no fucking idea how good I had it.

<><><><>

So there we were, a generation later, a whole lifetime away, and we were finally (finally, finally…) about to consummate our passion. There were no fears, no inhibitions, no inexperience, no parents – nothing in the world could keep us apart now. Nothing…


There was a knock on the door.

“Did you hear that?” Addie whispered.

“Shh…. Maybe it will go away.”

“Daddy, are you in there?”

“Yes Rachel,” I called out. I didn’t move, and I held up my hand to indicate Addie shouldn’t either. “This better be good,” I whispered to Addie.

“Sorry, but Jeffrey’s sick,” Rachel whined.

“I’ll be right over,” I said sternly.

I could hear Rachel padding away in her big slippers.

“Whew. Now where were we?” I said to Addie, my still turgid and impatient organ straining against her moist flesh.

“Mark? The boy’s sick.”

“He’ll be fine for ten minutes, trust me…”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh… you so obviously don’t have kids.”

<><><><>

Jeffery was spewing up wild candy colored flotsam in partially digested chocolate soup. It was an impressive effort. I got him cleaned up and situated in bed and I gave him one of my ginger ales from the cooler. I told him to take baby sips once every fifteen seconds to keep him busy. He didn’t have a fever, but I put a cool washcloth on his head anyway and told him he’d be fine. I stayed in the room until he started dosing off. I checked on Rachel. She was asleep. I checked my watch. It was two in the morning. I washed my hands and face and hurried back to Addie’s room.

I opened Addie’s door as quietly as I could. She was in bed, and it didn’t look promising.

“Is he okay?” she said sleepily.

“Well he was kind of sick, but he’ll be fine.” I was unbuckling my pants, hoping for the best. “Too much candy,” I said slipping into bed behind her.

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