The Courtship Road

It's the same thing at the hospital. Working, interacting, and being something of a friend to them is pretty much the same thing to me as with anyone else. You'll get over it too if you let yourself loosen up."

"I could never do that!"

"Wash your grandmother's crotch and ass or be civil to persons who are different from you?"

"Um...like being around those kind of people. Your grandmother...that would be hard too, but I guess I could do it."

"You agree God made them?"

"Of course, I do. I am a Christian. I've taken Jesus as my personal savior!"

"That's nice. So you try to follow his teachings?"

"Of course!"

"So how about the part where, and I may misstate it a bit, 'Whatsoever you did for one of my brothers or sisters, no matter how unimportant they seem, you did for me'? I expect 'those people' would qualify as seeming to be unimportant to you?"

Nothing much was said until we got in my car and I was driving her back to her apartment. She had two roommates so we both knew I wasn't offering sex to her. Or maybe I knew she wasn't offering me any. We were half way to her place when she broke the silence.

"I guess you're right. I was raised a Christian, but it's hard for me to accept them. I don't think I can't not be disgusted by them. God can't expect that of me."

"Acceptance starts with suppressing your negative reactions, which you did tonight. As to Christianity, you've picked a difficult religion if you truly wish to follow his teachings. It's not nearly as simple as most ministers make it out to be.

"Everybody's natural reaction to people with severe problems is revulsion on some level, just because they are visibly different. I think that's why he said we must work to overcome that natural reaction. A Christian life is one of endless effort at self-improvement. We'll work at it all of our days. "

She was silent. I thought our relationship was likely over before it began.

I turned down her street, and she said, "Pull over here...right there under the tree."

I was wondering what was going on. We were half a block from her apartment. I'm so toxic that she doesn't want her roommates to see me? When the car stopped, she released her seat belt giving me a hug and a really hot kiss. I turned into her and she broke the kiss to lay her head on my shoulder.

"John, you've taught me something about myself tonight. I don't say that lightly either. You rightly observed that I'm not comfortable around anybody that's really handicapped. I see somebody, like, you know, all paralyzed in a wheel chair, and want to stare at them to see how bad off they are, but then I can't even look at them.

"But it's silly. I mean, I'm not going to catch something that will make me be like them. And they've got problems like I can't even imagine. But they're really people too. I guess I know that, of course, but I have to...to accept them for what they are, and you taught me that."

"Well, I'm not that far ahead of you, so don't put me on a big pedestal."

Her hand slid into my lap as she said, "We can't go up to my place. My roommates are there, but I want to do this for you if you don't mind?"

She fumbled a minute as she unzipped my fly and pulled out my cock. Soft, it isn't much at all, but put it somewhere warm and wet and it grows! Frankly I was speechless as she dropped her mouth onto the little thing beginning a lovely suck and massage with her tongue. She was good. Someone had done a fine job teaching her to give a great blowjob. She backed off as my dick swelled, achieving a nice bend of sucking and licking.

"How much longer does this monster get?"

"You can't go wrong praising a guy's cock. When the wrinkles are gone, that's about it. Pretty much what you have there. I'm not going to last too much longer though."

"Shoot away. I don't mind."

I tried to hold back because it felt so good, but I still came too quickly. It was a wonderful release, and she took it all without complaint.

"That was lovely, Jane. Let me reciprocate."

"I like that you're willing, but not here. I'll take you up on that the first time you get me near a bed."

I didn't want her to get away, so I asked her to dinner at my place Wednesday. That didn't work for her, so Friday night it would be. She opened the door to leave, and I jumped out of the car.

"Very sexist of you to not let me walk alone."

"Nonsense. Obviously you've walked on this block alone at night many times. If you must know my motive, that last kiss was so good that I wanted to get another one. "

I wrapped my arms around her, but she kept her lips closed. I pressed down on her chin until she got the hint and we had a good French kiss that went on and on. She broke the kiss.

"Stop! I'll take you on the street! Guys don't like to kiss me after..."

"They're fools. The tastes and smells of sex are wonderful."

A week later we were screwing. Boy, did she have some talent at that too. Her sex drive was a match for mine, coming twice each evening, and she was GGG (good, giving and game). A few weeks later I suggested that if she agreed to serial monogamy, the rubbers could come off.

"When I start having sex with someone, neither my partner nor I would date or especially have sex with anyone else during that period of time. Sort of like the old custom of going steady?"

She was thrilled as it was something of a commitment and meant we were a couple. We were back in town, this time for ice cream and coffee. Jane took the ice cream cones outside while I was paying for them and carrying the coffees. As I came out the door, I was alarmed as Igor was talking to her.

As I came up to her, she said to Igor, "Ask him."

Igor was embarrassed, so I encouraged him, "Igor, you know you can ask me anything. I won't get mad."

"Well, Mr. Desmond...you know...know we are helping you?"

"Yes, and things are running very well at the hospital."

"In other ways, Mr. Desmond. Not me...people who go on the floors...up stairs...we look for a wife for you. But maybe you...you found one first?"

Jane was grinning at me.

"Why Igor, how thoughtful. Indeed I am looking for a wife, and I think I can say with all honesty that you need not look any longer on my behalf."

"You mean stop looking?"

"Yes, stop looking. Please. I better eat my ice cream. It's melting onto Jane's fingers."

"Of course, Mr. Desmond, Miss Jane! Good night...God bless...and thank you Mr. ...Desmond for what you do."

He shuffled into the evening. I turned to Jane.

"Not the first time you've had sticky fingers with me. I was worried about your reaction to Igor coming up to you, but you seemed good with it."

"Well, you said Igor is a nice man and he is, isn't he? So thoughtful. And his friends, pimping for you! What devoted employees won't do for their boss! Anything come of their efforts?'

"Their screening process isn't so good. A few people called me and said it was flattering that somebody thought a man 15 years younger than them would be interested! The others thought it was cute. One woman asked me out. We had coffee and dessert, but it didn't work out. "

"Are you ready to settle down?"

"Well, let's say I'm tired of life alone, of casual friends and hookups. So I guess the answer is yes. I'm like a big fly buzzing all around the room. Everybody knows he'll land, but not where or when exactly. Well, maybe you could make a better guess where than others could."

We had great sex that night, a BJ in the car followed by two rounds in bed.

I was therefore surprised when a few weeks later Ernie Schmidt, who works part time for his cousin at the Candle Pin Inn, said he saw Miss Desmond there one night, giving some guy an open mouth, hands roaming kiss before she got into a cab by herself. Jane and I were having dinner at my place, and I brought it up.

"Jane, I'm not dating anyone but you. Of course that doesn't mean we can't spend time with other people, just not romantically. Isn't that the deal we have?"

"Sure. For my part, I'm only dating you."

"Maybe we need to clarify what a date is. Could we agree that it is not a date where we only do things with the other person that would be normal and unremarkable were we to do the same things with our mother."

"So I can dance, kiss, hug, and have dinner with a guy. Isn't that a date?"

"Well, of course it could be a date depending upon intent and the details. If you were to dance with your mother, you wouldn't rub bodies or kiss her with open mouth, would you? And you would mention to me amongst other small talk. Like 'Oh, by the way. Mike Stephens and I had dinner at the Philistine club Monday night, and John said the funniest thing.'

"Is there such a place as the Philistine Club?"

"Not as far as I know. I made it up."

"Sure, I've got no trouble with that."

"Good. So, what was going on at the Candle Pin Inn this week."

"Oh! Well," her expression gave her away. She knew she had been caught.

"Nothing much happened."

I sat expectantly, saying nothing.

"This is weird. I didn't cheat on you! I hope you know that."

"I don't know much of anything because you haven't told me, do I?"

"Yah, well, it was nothing much. It was Billy Kennedy. He had dinner with me at the Candle Pin. I did kiss him, but it was just for goodbye and old time's sake. I'm not interested in him. If I was, it would be too bad for me, 'cause he's gone to Afghanistan for another tour. Left last Thursday. I confess I've got a thing for warriors, but I'm not interested in Billy or anybody else, so don't worry. I'm sorry. I guess I was afraid you'd go orbital if I told you. But you're clearly not. I'll tell you if there is a next time. "

I had the feeling that her agreement was reluctant. I began to think our relationship was a bit unbalanced with me liking her more than she did me.

A few months later, one of Jane's old friends from back home, Siobhan Sullivan was getting married and as Jane now had herself a man, the invitation to the wedding was extended to me. She was going to be a bridesmaid. I had met the couple once when we were back to Jane's old home, and I wasn't particularly impressed with either of them. She had dead white Irish skin covered with a lot of brightly colored tattoos and the Gus the groom looked like he could open beer bottles with his teeth. Now that's just the surface appearance, I know, but casting about for a topic of conversation, I couldn't find anything they knew about or cared about, me included. So I moved off and chatted with others. They seemed like nice enough people.

The wedding was up in coal country, a three hour drive from where we lived. Most of the younger folks at the wedding were people that Jane had gone to school with. Most were local, and otherslwere staying at the motel next door to the pub where the reception would be held, so no one would be tempted to drive drunk. Good idea.

I rarely have more than one or two drinks, and I balked at staying in a motel where a bunch of drunks would be carousing at all hours of the night. I rented a room at a nice three star motel a couple of miles away. We'd have a bit of peace and privacy.

There wasn't a lot of money in either the bride or groom's family so they came to a sensible solution. The wedding party dinner was pot luck with the local pub letting them use their back room. We bought ten pounds of ribs from the pub for our contribution. The money they saved on the meal and the venue was spent on beer and appetizers done by a very good caterer. Very good indeed! They had an open keg from local brewery, a first-rate lager for about an hour, with a DJ. After that, it was buy your own drinks at the bar up front. It was a happy party and I was having a good time!

I suppose it was only to be expected that when keg was empty and the meal was done, the room got quite crowded. Half the people in town knew either Siobhan or Gus, so the distinction between the wedding group and the bar folks quickly evaporated. The only difference was the members of the wedding party were noticeably better dressed, which says more about the bar crowd than the wedding party

Jane and I had been socializing and dancing sort of at random with whomever, but I noticed that one guy was spending a lot of time with her. One glance and anyone could see she was enjoying his company. When he bent down and gave her a long kiss, I could see trouble coming my way.

I cut in, got a sour look from the guy, and as we danced, I suggested that she might not want to monopolize her time with him.

"What are you trying to say, John? Say it straight out. I can't dance with Mike?"

"We've had this talk before. I saw the kiss and the rubbing crotches. It looks to me like you're leading him on and he might be a difficult chap to leave behind. That's all. Don't look for trouble and then hope it won't find you."

"And what if I mean to lead him on? What are you going to do about it?" she said with a big smile.

"Well, you can have him or me, but not both, so it's up to you. I mean, if you don't want to be with me, why the hell would I want anything to do with you? You decide who you want to be with. We've discussed this before."

"John, you're such a nice guy. Don't worry. I can handle Mike."

I've been around enough, so's I didn't think the nice guy remark was much of a compliment. In the space of an hour the old folks left and with them a couple of old timers from the bar that I was hanging out with. It was like the adults left, and the party degraded into a bacchanal. Saw the movie Dirty Dancing? Worse!

Jane, Siobhan and two or three or other women were putting on an exhibition. One was bent over being dry humped in back, with a guy in front holding her tits and pushing his crotch into her face. Jane was rubbing her cunt on Mike's leg while he held her ass, fingers in the crack. Dumping fuel to the fire, a slow dance came up. Mike lifted Jane's dress above her ass, and we all saw she wasn't wearing the underwear that she had on when we left the hotel.

That rolled my stomach and my heart sunk. The crowd saw entertainment and erupted into laughing cheers, I saw my life go to shit! Another guy exposed his partner's skinny ass to more crowd approval.

A dark haired woman was dancing with her back to her partner. Well, not really dancing, they swayed back and forth. She lifted her dress to show her cunt, thinly veiled by red panties while her partner slid one hand inside over her mons. His other hand vigorously played with her tit. The crowd reacted with more cheers. Jane locked eyes with me and I made a sign with walking fingers signaling let's go.

She ignored me as Mike bent down and he kissed her again. Seeing no resistance, he slid his hand between her legs. She responded by laughing, poking her elbow in his gut and struggling a bit to remove his hand. He laughed and released her as the song ended. This was getting out of hand, and I went out to get her out before things got any worse.

She couldn't see me coming over to them, but Mike did and he stared right at me as he visibly fondled her tit. When I came around to face Jane, she telling him something and removing his hand, but I couldn't hear what they were saying.

I tapped Jane's shoulder and said, "I'm leaving now. You coming or staying?"

Mike snarled in a loud voice, "Piss off, asshole."

My emotions were raging, and the noise was deafening, so I raised my voice to be heard.

"I want to hear Jane tell me if she's coming with me now or staying. No call for you to get pissy."

One part of me was urging that as I wasn't trying to impress this bar full of strangers, I probably should just walk away and leave this riff raft to themselves, and I would have except I couldn't be sure what Jane intended here, and she wasn't going to be raped or assaulted on my watch. Well events quickly escalated out of my control.

"I've had enough of your shit for one night! I'm gonna bust your wimpy ass."

The asshole violently flung Jane aside to get at me. She stumbled and would have fallen if someone hadn't caught her. Mike pivoted around, swinging a fist at me. I stepped back, as it harmlessly sailed past me, although with lethal intent.

If my brain contained the least sense of self preservation, I would have gotten the hell out of there as fast as my legs could carry me. No one I cared about or was likely to ever see again was in that room. I'd only be leaving my pride and dignity behind which I could painlessly retrieve at the door. Trouble was I was pissed off!

I said evenly, "Jane, get the bartender. Tell him to bring a bat. Do it! Now!"

I expected she'd scoot away immediately, but I couldn't afford to watch her. I wasn't taking my eyes off of Goofus who lashed out with a kick he probably learned from watching TV movies. I was able to turn to one side grabbing his foot with both hands, shoved and twisted it hard which dumped him with a crash on his ass.

The crowd cheered! Sober, it wouldn't have worked. I would have thought it comical if it wasn't so fucking dangerous. Jane was still there watching. I looked for an opening, but didn't follow up for two reasons. One, there was too much of a chance he would pull me down and second, I had decided to bolt. I could take a punch, but not ten of them while I was on the ground. I spun around to go and faced a tight wall of cheering and jeering spectators. No way out, I turned back around to watch him warily get to his feet.

As long as I was free to move, I was probably okay. I barked again:

"Jane, get the fucking bartender!"

The crowd booed at this threat to end the entertainment. His reflexes were impaired by drink, but Mike had a long reach and big muscles from doing real work. Three or four years ago I could have taken him, drunk as he was, but I had gotten soft. If he got a hold of me, it was all over. I could only hope he would tire and quit or the bartender would break it up.

Fortunately, he had no training in fighting. Sadly, I was his equal in that regard.

The crowd recognized a blood sport as more interesting than sex and like I said had formed a ring, effectively cutting off any escape. They began calling out cheers for Mike, and jeers for me. I was not the home team here.

He settled into a pattern. He would rear back or otherwise telegraph his intent and then lunge forward with a kick or a punch. In response, I would duck, dodge, or occasionally block. I watched for the occasional opening and tagged him with a fist or a kick from time to time, but it had no great effect on him.

The music had stopped and now all eyes were on us. It was clear that nobody was coming to stop the fight. In fact, they were laughing and egging us on. Big fucking joke! The crowd happily cheered, but as Mike failed to connect, both he and the crowd were getting frustrated. He wanted my blood, and they wanted anybody's blood. Everybody loves a fight!

I was aware of the crowd on a superficial level as I was intently focused on the drunk who was attacking me for what seemed to be a long while, but was probably only a few minutes. Him rushing and me weaving and dodging was my world..

"You little fucker, I catch you, you're dead!"

That's exactly what I was afraid of. Would he know the difference between hurting someone and killing them? From the crowd came cries of coward, wimp, and pussy because there was no blood yet. I wasn't getting hurt nor hurting him. Of course, if one of his flails connected on me, they would merrily watch my blood fly while I got beat to shit. I was frantically looking for a way to end it and not seeing one.

He was tiring, face flushed with drink and the exertions, panting and dripping sweat. I was doing a little better, but had been giving ground slowly until I found myself backed into a big potted plant. I had no place to go. For a moment I was gratified to see him backing off. Good, he had had enough! No such luck.