My Dear and Darling Dad

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A special Christmas message from Leslie Blue.
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Since my Yahoo group is geared strictly toward subjects of SEX, and sometimes life is not a one-track train ride of erotic and sensuous bliss, it was a tough task to tie my Christmas Message for them to sexual matters! lol But after my usual, long labor in my struggle and fighting with words, I think I managed to accomplish it to some degree! hehehe

So, to all my guys and gals, to my lovers and my friends, and to my ever-faithful readers -- here is my very special Christmas Message for all of you this year! Read on...

This happens to be an extremely bittersweet time of year for me, particularly for the last three Christmases since my beloved Dad passed away. (Funny, it seems like longer for some reason, but upon checking the date of his death, I realize it has only been two and a half -- not three and a half -- years since he is gone.) Sometime right around Halloween, I start to get that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, knowing that Thanksgiving is right around the corner, Christmas another half block behind, and New Years is just a stone's throw away from that. And thinking about facing another holiday season without him here brings many a tear to my eye, along with that constantly gnawing feeling of my breaking heart every time I realize I will never again, in this life, hear his deep, comforting, warm, hearty laugh; or gaze into his big, smiling, loving, blue eyes!

I guess since the day I was born, my holidays were mostly based around my dear Dad and all the joys he brought to me, especially at Christmastime. Of course, my Mom played a big part in it too -- but pushing 80, she is still here with me, God bless her. And because of our own dumb human nature, it seems that it is not until someone is gone from us, that we ever fully realize what a big impact they played upon our lives. It was always Dad who put up the Christmas tree, Dad who put the lights up around the house, and good old Dad who imitated Santa Claus's bootprints coming up our snowy driveway, and leaving the packages under the tree -- making me believe in St. Nicholas until long after I was nine years old. And for the past several decades, it was my dear Dad that I cooked up a gourmet's Christmas delight in German-style dinners to please no one else's palette but his.

Part of the reason I miss him so much is because he was the only person in my world who knew how to make me feel so loved and appreciated for my efforts -- not only for my cooking but for everything I ever did that was of a positive nature. Even when I failed miserably at some odd thing or another, he never made me feel as if I was some kind of bumbling idiot, with his constant encouragement and 'carry-on' attitude. He taught me well at quite a young age that even when the chips are down, life goes on... so you better pick yourself up and get a move-on before you wind up laying there, flatter than a pancake, maybe forever! lol

He also taught me that most of those times when you fuck up your life of your own accord -- cuz we always do seem determined to make our own stupid mistakes all by our lone selves -- chances are you are going to have to straighten things out again all by your lone self, too! Only on rare occasion will some good Samaritan come by to offer you a helping hand, and if he does, you better grab his hand and pull on it hard, getting up off the ground and accepting with gratitude, thanks, and appreciation whatever kind of help it is that he is offering you. After all, you may pride yourself on your stubborn nature of doing things your own way, but there sure ain't nothing to be proud about the way that you got down there to begin with -- especially when you are still lying there in a bloody, broken heap, with all of a snowball's chance in hell of pulling yourself out of your own dastardly predicament alone.

My whole life, I always told my dear Dad everything -- bad things along with the good -- for he was the best friend I ever had. He knew everything there ever was to know about my sex life as well, for I have him to thank for teaching me, thru his words, how to love and enjoy sex for all it is worth -- as well as to have a proper respect for its power and for the people that are involved in your sex life. My dear Dad was a very sexual human being, in every sense of those words -- and, in other words -- to put it bluntly -- he was one very horny guy! lol My dear Dad relished sex and eroticism in a very hearty, healthy way. And if he had still been alive and kicking, he would have been tickled so silly at all of my sexual antics today, that I would probably have made him a full-fledged moderator in my Yahoo group!!! hehehe

No matter the nature of anything I ever told him, my dear Dad never once judged me, he never put me down, he really rarely ever criticized me, and I only remember one, lone, single time when he ever let me know that he was disappointed in me. And, believe you me, I deserved way more reprimanding than he gave me that night, for this one really foolish mistake I made a long, long time ago...

My older sister's first of five husbands, Mike, was a real... well, let me just say he was a lazy, ignorant, conceited, stupid prick -- and you will get the gist of what I am trying to say about him! lol He played a pretty lousy rhythm guitar for some half-ass rock group in the Sixties that never quite amounted to anything, except to play in a few dingy clubs and some high school dances. His reasons for playing in a band were not so much for the fame and fortune of what could have been his future, if he had ever even been a second-rate musician. No, Mike played guitar strictly for the benefit of being able to fuck any and all of the low-life groupies that floundered around a million bands just like his, back in those Hippie days.

From the first day he started seeing my sis, Mike had his heart -- along with another one of his body parts -- set on getting into MY panties!!! I always did have good taste in guys, even way back then!!! lol And realizing what a loser Mike was from the get-go, despite his dark Italian good looks, I would not have given him the time of day, no less even bother to bat a single one of my long, dark, curly eyelashes at him. hehehe

So, Mike flirted with me, and he teased me, and he even tried to force himself on me a time or two -- for approximately the next 6 years. I never did give him a piece of me for all that time, even when he tried to kiss me under a blanket on the beach one rainy summer day, while my sis stayed back at the bungalow, bulging a big 9-months pregnant with their only child! And I was damn proud of the fact that I never gave in to that creep Mike -- not a yard, not a foot, not an inch, not even a micro-millimeter!!! lol

Some 20+ years later, when I was in my early 40s -- long after we were all grown up -- and my sis and he had been divorced and out of touch for more than two decades, I ran into Mike at some hole-in-the-wall rock club near my home, where he was still -- you guessed it -- plucking away on the rhythm guitar in some crummy classic rock band! Some people never grow up, let's face it! lol And I had too much to drink, and I was -- for some silly reason -- glad to see him. And there was something else Mike was still doing! Yep, MIKE WAS STILL TRYING TO GET INTO MY PANTIES! And like the soused slob I was that night, I gave in to him that one and only time -- I took him home with me for what turned out to be a really dull, dead FUCK -- just one lamentable example of what the horrors of too much liquor can do, when combined with an older, 'mature' lady's libido! lol

A few days after my one-night-stand with Mike, I went out to dinner with my darling Dad -- just the two of us. After a fine meal at our table, we sat at the bar for a coffee and to sip on an after-dinner Drambui. With my head hanging low to try and hide my shameful tears, I mumbled to him, almost hoping he would not hear me and ignore it, "Dad, I have to tell you something. Last weekend, I ran into Mike at a bar, and I slept with him."

I turned my eyes toward him, to see if my dear Dad was going to get angry with me, and in his oh-so-cool-and-calm, deep, even tone -- never raising his voice from a very low decibel -- as was always his way of speaking to me, my dear Dad locked his baby blues with mine and said, "LEZ."

Only my dear Dad has ever called me by that nickname, always instilling in me a feeling of warmth, comfort, and reassurance at the sound of it coming from his lips. But this time, I cringed with guilt at the dishonor I had inflicted upon my own name. For the one and only real fear I ever had of my beloved father in my entire life was for the one and only thing that I had now done to him -- that is, I had acted so dumb and stupid this time, that my dear Dad was DISAPPOINTED IN ME!

He continued softly, word-for-word, as I will never ever forget: "LEZZZZZZZ," he repeated, slower this time. "Did you have to sleep with Mike? Of all the guys in this world, and you had to sleep with Mike! That bum would fuck anything that had a hole in it!"

And with that his last remark, all the guys and gals at that crowded bar turned to look at the two of us, as we both exploded in a burst of loudly rocking, raucous, jelly-roll laughter! Then my dear Dad reached out to caress my tear-streamed cheek and pulled me tightly into his arms in a warm embrace -- the touch of love and understanding that only the most perfect Dad in the whole wide world could have for his adored daughter!

And he never did say another word about it!

Oh, Dad, you were The Greatest -- The Best of Everything -- and you always will be!!! Merry Christmas, Dad!!!

... and MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!
And may the New Year ahead bring you every good blessing that a year can bring, to all my guys and gals everywhere!!!
Love and kisses,
Leslie

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1 Comments
AngelofsexAngelofsexabout 18 years ago
Tears came to my eyes......

Leslie it was a great story....it started me remembering my Dad, who past away a long time ago on Christmas Eve. Thank you for your beautiful story.

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