Mrs. Grace and Me

Perhaps I had been near the truth when I told her she had loved him too much, and it might be added, he had loved her too much.

* * * * * * * *

As might be expected with a psychologically healthy person Asha's grief over David's death gradually diminished. Having been made privy to some of the personal details of her life I expected our relationship to become closer, but if anything I felt it became a little more distant.

There is of course the tendency for people who have shared intimate details of their lives in times of stress, to try and physically avoid the person with whom they had shared, but Asha did not avoid me in that sense.

Her library and scholarly help were still available to me and I continued to have free access to her cottage, but she seemed bent on keeping a little physical and emotional distance between us.

As the time of my undergraduate studies drew to a close, Asha, anticipating that I would pass with first class honours in her subject, started to talk about my going on to study for my PhD.

I was not sure about this, my own inclination being to undertake studies in education with a view to qualifying as a teacher.

I had maintained my vow of celibacy in part because my energies had been absorbed by my studies, and in part because "Miss Right" had not yet appeared. It was not the case that I had become a sexual neuter, and I had to engage in frequent self-relief in order to preserve my celibacy.

There was a further problem that I recognised at the time. Asha had become the model for Miss Right. I know that for many young men the model of a wife or partner is often their mother, but in my case it was Asha.

As she, and by then my parents, had anticipated, I passed with first class honours. There was a celebration but not of the sort that had taken place on my graduation from high school. At my request it was a quiet affair. I wanted to celebrate with the people who had been most significant in my life; my now supportive parents and Asha.

We went to a rather exclusive restaurant and I'm afraid I came close to disgracing myself. I had never been much of a drinker of alcohol, but on this occasion I cut loose with the red wine.

I've heard it said that a little alcohol can elicit a lot of truth, and on this occasion a large amount of alcohol elicited a considerable amount of truth.

Since things got a bit blurry I cannot be sure at what stage in the evening I said what I no doubt should have said long before. In front of my parents and within the hearing of those at nearby tables I said, "Asha, I love you."

If those were not the exact words, and if they did not come out quite as neatly as that, I know I must have made my meaning clear because of what followed later.

Poor Asha, she must have felt horribly embarrassed, and I don't think my parents would have felt too comfortable.

I know I went on to say things in a similar vein and can recall being helped out to the car, being driven home and somehow ending up in bed. I must have ended up in bed because that's where I was when I woke up the next morning.

My mouth felt like a sandpit; my head ached, and I had a somewhat jaundiced view of life in general. I had only the vaguest memory of my declaration of love. That was soon remedied by my mother when, after showering I made my way belatedly to the kitchen for a breakfast that I couldn't eat anyway.

Mother's opening salvo was straight to the point.

"That was a terrible thing you did to Asha last night."

"What?" I asked mendaciously, pretending I didn't know what she was talking about.

"In front of all those people, and at the top of your voice," mother said, not answering my question. "After all she's done for you over the years, to humiliate her like that in public."

"What did I do....what did I say..." I asked, still playing the silly game.

"You made her cry, you know. How could you...such a lovely woman...how could you Trent?"

"I'm...I'm sorry," I stuttered, my headache now throbbing like the beating of a pile driver."

"Ah!" mother exclaimed, "So you do know what I'm talking about. Well your father and I have already apologised to her and you'd better do the same – if she'll have anything to do with you."

"But mum..." I started to say, but she went on, "I've got to get to work and if you're thinking of going to see Asha then don't waste your time because like most of us she's got her work to go to. By the look of you you'd better take a couple of aspirin and go back to bed. I'll leave the washing up and vacuuming for you to do when you come-to properly; disgraceful Trent."

With that she stomped out leaving me trying to work out how what I'd said could have been so devastating, which only goes to show that I still hadn't grasped exactly what I'd said.

I took mother's advice and swallowed a couple of aspirin and went back to bed vowing I would never touch alcohol again – a vow I did not keep.

* * * * * * * *

I slept and woke about four hours later, this time with a clearer memory of my love declaration. The declaration had been true, but the occasion for making it and the drunken state I had been in, made it a singularly blundering attempt at a declaration of love.

I set about the jobs mother had left me, all the time wondering how I could face Asha. That of course was to assume that she would see me after such a public exhibition on my part.

The painful thing was it was true that I loved her, and it had been true for a long time, but it had taken over-indulgence in red wine to give me the courage to say it. That realisation only added to my feelings of self-disgust.

Then came the terrible thought that Asha might not want to have anything more to do with me. She had loomed so large in my life for so long I found it hard to imagine life without her. Twenty four hours ago I had been on top of the world; there had been a bright future ahead of me, but now I saw only a dark Asha-less future.

Once the domestic chores were done I had nothing in particular to do. I wandered round picking up books and putting them down again. One of the books I picked up belonged to Asha, and in the vain hope that she would be at home I screwed up my courage, and taking the book went to apologise.

I couldn't bring myself to use the backdoor and simply walk in. I knocked on the front door instead. Of course, as mother had said, Asha wasn't home.

Back in our house I sat at the front window watching for Asha's car to enter her drive, and all the while composing the speech of apology I would make to her.

In the late afternoon mother arrived home followed soon after by father. I seemed to have been sent to Coventry because beyond a gruff greeting they did not speak to me.

It was only after the evening meal that my mother opened fire, and in a way that took me in the flank.

"Trent, if you love Asha then tell her so when you're sober."

I started to say, "But mum I can't..." when my father let go a broadside.

"Trent," he said sharply, "do you think your mother and I don't know what's been going on between you and Asha."

His way of putting it made my hackles rise and I said angrily, "Nothing's been going on between me and Asha, and if you..."

"Your father didn't mean it that way, " mother cut in quickly, "but it's been obvious for some time how you feel about Asha and we think..."

"It's about time you started to behave like a man instead of a boy," father interrupted.

"Tell her," mother added brusquely, "she'll be home by now."

"She wouldn't want me to tell her," I protested.

My father snorted and said, "You need to be drunk to tell her, do you...?"

"Edward," my mother said, "There's no point in rubbing it in," then turning to me, "Trent, Asha was terribly upset last night, and you can at least apologise to her."

"Yes," apologise, father added, "if you haven't got the courage to..."

"Edward!" mother said threateningly.

"Oh...oh clear off Trent," father said dismissively, and picked up the evening newspaper and pretended to read.

I looked at mother. She nodded, and so I made my way to Asha's place.

* * * * * * * *

I stood outside the front door for a while trying to rehearse what I'd say to Asha, and then screwing up my courage I knocked. There was a pause, and the door was opened and Asha stood there looking at me.

"Asha, I...want...er...I've come to..."

The speech I'd made up seemed to have vanished. I tried again.

"Asha, I know I behaved badly but...er...I...er..."

"You'd better come in," Asha said wearily, "I think we need to talk."

Without another word she made her way down the passage through the lounge into the kitchen, and then turned to look at me.

Once more I tried.

"I didn't mean to upset you Asha and I'm sorry...sorry...for..."

What was I sorry for: because I'd got drunk; because I'd spoilt the evening; because I'd upset her? Yes, I was sorry for those things, but for what I'd said about loving her I wasn't sorry. My only regret was that I been drunk when I said it.

I made another attempt.

"I was drunk last night and..."

"Yes, you certainly were," Asha said softly.

"I know I said something that upset you and..."

"People often say things when they're drunk they wouldn't otherwise say," Asha interrupted.

"Oh but I would say it when I'm sober," I protested.

"Would you?" Asha said, looking at me solemnly. "Would you really?"

"Yes...yes I would," I replied, and then screwing up my courage I said, "I love you Asha."

"We'd better sit down," Asha said, indicting a dining chair. We sat opposite each other, the table serving as a sort of no-man's-land between us.

There was a long pause as we sat looking at each other.

It was Asha who broke the silence.

"Trent, there's something I have to tell you."

There was another silence as Asha seemed to be making up her mind what she was going to say.

Trying to break what I felt was a verbal deadlock I started to say, "Asha, we..."

"No Trent, I would never have told you this if you had not spoken, but since you have I want to say 'I love you.'"

"You...?

"Don't say anything just now Trent, let me speak. You know David and I never had a child?"

"Yes."

"We wanted to badly, but before it happened he was posted overseas to that...that...work."

"Yes."

"That day when I injured my ankle and you helped me, that's when it started."

"What?"

"I know it sounds foolish, but I thought that you were just the sort of son David and I would liked to have had...oh I know it's ridiculous, I'd have had to be a very sexually precocious little girl to have a son your age, but once I learned of your interest in history I wanted to have a part in your life, I wanted to do for you what I would have done for my own son if I'd had one."

"You wanted to be my mother?"

"I said it was ridiculous, and however I felt I knew I wasn't and could never be your mother, but I wanted you in my life, I wanted to give to you."

"And you did Asha," I replied, "Without you I don't know where I'd be now."

She smiled faintly and said, "Yes, your parents did take a bit of persuading but they finally saw where your future lay."

I managed a cautious grin and said, "It couldn't have happened without you."

Asha suddenly seemed the change the subject.

"I'm a one man woman Trent and it may sound old fashioned, but I'm also a believer in marriage vows."

"Yes...what...are you...er...David..."

"As long as David lived, and no matter how much he tried to persuade me to divorce him, I never would. I would even have brought him here to live with me, but they told me at the hospital that I could never handle all the things that David would need me to do for him. He told me that as well."

"I stayed faithful to him Trent."

"Yes, I know Asha." That wasn't quite true of the past because along with the rest of the Grove I suspected for a long time that she had a Sunday lover.

"I'll be honest with you Trent, the times I helped David did nothing for me; do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, you loved him and wanted to...to help him, but it couldn't work for you."

"I was physically faithful to him but was unfaithful to him in my mind."

"I don't understand."

"I'm not made to lead a chaste sexual life and I was unfaithful to David because I started to have sexual feelings about you before he died."

"Me!"

"Yes Trent, you; oh I know about the age difference and all that, but after what you said last night and this evening I had to tell you how I feel."

"Even though I was drunk?"

"Yes, even though you were drunk. I was sorry you had to be drunk to say it, but the alcohol pushed aside your inhibitions regarding me, and you said what you really felt, and now you've said it again."

"Yes."

"If you want to take those words back, please, do it now."

"I'll never take them back, Asha."

* * * * * * * *

She sat looking at me searchingly for what seemed an age, and then rising she came to me slowly. My chair was a little way back from the table, and Asha stood in front of me looking down.

"There is something my love wants to give you," she said, and then pulling up her skirt she sat across me. Still looking at me she felt for the zip if my jeans and pulled it down. I felt her hand take hold of my penis and start to stroke it as she kissed me softly on the lips.

When she felt my penis was erect she moved forward, pulled aside the cloth where her panties passed over her genitals and inserted my length it into her vagina.

Its head passed over her pubic bone and then entered a warm, moist silky paradise. With my full length in her she stopped still for a while, kissing me with lips parted, our tongues meshing, probing.

In the first few moments of our coupling I knew the difference between Asha and my experiences with Louise and Mavis. This was an act of love, of true giving and receiving.

Still kissing me Asha began to move with a slow withdrawing and then thrusting motion. With every downward motion I felt her vagina gripping me and sucking me deep into her.

She was very quiet, and the only signal that she was about to come was a quickening of her movements and a low cry of, "Oh my darling" followed by soft sighing sounds; "Ah...ah...ah..."

I groaned as I released my sperm into her and for a few seconds we beat frantically together, locked in the exquisite embrace of mutual orgasm.

I emptied myself into her and began to relax as she continued to move on me, murmuring, "I love you..."I love you..." until she too relaxed and pressed soft wet kisses over my face."

She kept my flaccid penis in her vagina as if unwilling to let me go, and I certainly wasn't in a hurry to withdraw from her. With one last butterfly wing kiss on my lips she said, "Would you like to stay the night with me?"

I wanted to say, "I'll stay with you forever," but that sounded a bit corny so I simply said "yes," but then had second thoughts.

"Asha, my parents know I'm with so they'll..."

She finished what I'd been going to say; "So they'll know what we're doing."

"Yes."

"Are you ashamed of it?"

Ashamed! I was glorying in it; I wanted to tell the whole world that I loved Asha, that I'd – oh my God it sounds such a cliché now – I'd found Miss Right. She was woman...all woman...and she would always be my woman if I had my way.

"Ashamed?" I said fervently, "I'll never be ashamed of what we've done."

"Then why don't you go and tell you parents that you're spending the night with me?"

"You mean be honest about it?"

"Yes, I'll come with you if you like."

I knew that if anything could make me ashamed it would be to have Asha hold my hand as I told my parents. It had grown late but I said, "I'll go and see if they're still awake and tell them," I said with a decisiveness I did not completely feel.

"Thank you Trent," she said somewhat ambiguously as she removed herself from me. It was a sort of delightful agony to be separated from her, especially as I thought about the night to come.

I left her and went to my house that somehow no longer seemed to be the place where I belonged. The gods must have taken pity on me because my father had retired to bed and mother was waiting up for me.

"Did you tell her?" was her first question.

"Yes, I told her," I replied.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Don't be so obtuse Trent," mother said with a sigh, "what did she say?"

This was the moment; "She said she loved me."

"Ah, mother sighed," as if with pleasure. "What else?"

"We...we...we made love."

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, "That's been inevitable for some time. It wasn't 'if,' only 'when.'"

"Asha asked me if I wanted to spend the night with her."

"And are you going to?"

"Yes, and more than tonight if she'll let me."

"She'll let you," mother said softly, "she's not the sort of woman to give herself easily, and when she does it's for the long term. What about you, Trent?"

"For the long term," I replied.

"You're sure?"

"Very sure; surer than I've ever been about anything."

"Then be sure you make her happy."

"I'll try, mother."

She kissed m on the cheek and said, "And be happy yourself; now go to her."

"Father..." I began to say, but mother laughed.

"You're father expected this as much as I did Trent, but he thought you'd be too afraid to ever say anything to Asha. I'll be able to tell him he was wrong; now go to her."

* * * * * * * *

I returned to the cottage not sure what would happen next. I looked in Asha's bedroom but she wasn't there, and as I headed for the lounge to see if she was there she came out of the bathroom wearing a dressing gown.

She smiled and said, "You told them?"

"Yes, and it's what they've been expecting."

Asha gave a tinkling laugh and said, "Why don't you have a shower, we might as well make a fresh start."

With that she disappeared into the bedroom and I went to the shower.

When I'd finished showering and had dried myself I realised I had nothing to put on since I'd brought nothing with me. I had to make my way to the bedroom naked.

As I entered the room I saw Asha naked, standing with her back to me. I had always thought she had a good figure but now I could see its softly flowing outline I thought it superb, but it was as she turned to face me I was overwhelmed by her beauty: her long slender neck; delicately moulded shoulders; firm breasts capped with pink nipples and the little triangle of pubic hair that led the eyes to the hint of a firmly cleft vulva. Below that were her strong looking thighs and her shapely calves terminating with small feet.

It was strange that I had once thought her only reasonably attractive, because now I thought her infinitely beautiful. Is that what love does for you – make you see beauty in a way that you cannot see it without love?

She came to me and putting her arms round my neck she pressed her body to mine. I felt the soft yielding warmth that only the body of an aroused female can communicate.

Standing on tip toe she kissed me, long and tongue probingly, and while still kissing me she drew my firm penis between her legs and started to draw the lips of her vulva along it.

I wanted to explore her, taste her, smell her, to consume her.

I suppose my experience with the "I'm-saving-that -Mr. Right" Mavis had at least taught me some useful things. With Asha still clinging to me I drew her down on to the bed.

Slowly, almost analytically, I began my exploration of her. Beginning by stroking her hair as I licked and kissed her face. She lay almost supine as with hands, lips and tongue I searched every recess of her body.

It was only as I touched her breasts and began to suck her nipples that she stirred slightly and murmured, "Oh my darling."

I lingered long over those delicious mounds, but from my Mavis experience I knew there was one thing that females delight in almost above all else.