The Real Rita

6. I would occasionally need to travel to a V.A. hospital in a city about 30 miles distant, where I was a consultant. Transportation was no problem during the academic year, since many students commuted daily, and were happy to share a ride. But summers were a problem. Rita offered to provide transportation one summer day, if I would pay for gas and lunch. I did, and gratefully so. It was a sweltering day, 100 degrees plus, and Rita's small car was not A.C. equipped. On the way home, around 3:00 PM, while cruising at high speed on the turnpike, with windows wide open and the wind blasting us, Rita announced that she was still hot, and was going to remove her blouse, to hell with everyone. She did, and tossed it onto my lap to prove it. It seemed unwise to play with a driver's tits while speeding, although I was sorely tempted. But I did confirm that her arms and shoulders were bare except for bra straps, and gave the straps a couple of firm upward tugs of appreciation. She was matter-of-fact as she paid the toll, and so was the toll booth attendant. Well, it's her tits, if she wants to advertise them, why not? I guess anything goes, in 100 degree summer heat.

7. On another hot summer day, I was in my basement study when Rita came by unexpectedly. My wife let her in. I heard Rita say, "Is he down there? I've got tapes for him." and she was sent down to my study. It turns out she really wanted me to admire her new outfit, which she called a "moo moo." It was a very thin, loose fitting, one piece garment, totally shapeless. It hung straight down from the shoulders, hardly touching her body at all. I happily admired it, which of course revealed her body quite clearly to the touch. She seemed to be naked underneath. Impishly grasping the hem, she lifted the entire moo moo up to her armpits, revealing her bra-less, but panty clad body in full glory for my admiration. "See?" she said, "it's just like wearing only this!" and as quickly as the moo moo rose for my enjoyment, it dropped again for propriety. Rita loved to be naughty, and the danger of discovery only enhanced her playful naughtiness.

8. Rita graduated from our university, and began graduate studies at another school a couple of hours distant. She kept her local residence, but during the week lived in a dormitory on her new campus. She would occasionally call or stop by when she was home to take care of household matters. Rita was astonished at the easy sexuality of her fellow students, most of whom were half her age. She admitted to one or two unhappy liaisons with inappropriate people, after which she was resigned to passively witnessing the casual coupling going on all around her.

In the meantime my wife and I had divorced, or rather had separated and would eventually divorce. I lived in a small townhouse a couple of blocks from campus. I was in a new relationship with a woman whom I would eventually marry, but who was out of town for the long Labor Day weekend. I ran into Rita that Saturday afternoon while walking home from the office. The streets were quiet. I heard a car go by and someone said "Hi!" but did not slow down or stop. Instead, the car seemed to turn a corner not too far ahead of me. As I crossed the dead-end side street, Rita called from where she had parked. "Hey, handsome," she said, "want a lift?" I went to her car and got in. We were delighted to see each other. I gave her directions to my house, and she drove me home. She had just come home for the holiday weekend, she said, but had not checked in with the kids yet. They didn't expect her until Sunday. I told Rita about my new love, but admitted that I too was free for the weekend,

So of course I asked Rita to have dinner with me. She agreed. We went downtown for a fine dinner with drinks and all, and then back to my place to chat and listen to music. I decided just to enjoy her company, and not take advantage of our circumstances. But Rita had other ideas. One of the tapes we listened to was a poetry reading. One poem was by a woman poet, describing a rape scene. She exclaimed in great distress, Don't come in me, mister! Please don't come in me! Just don't come in me, okay?" Rita made me stop the tape, she found the rape scene too upsetting. I held her close, and helped her quell her tears. When she had collected herself, she said, simply and directly, It's getting late, please take me to bed? Just for tonight?" All my good intentions vanished in an instant, and I could simply not think of a good reason not to take Rita to bed at once.

We made love for the first and only time that night, and finally enjoyed each other immensely and without reserve. Her 40 year old body was well preserved, her firm breasts a little on the smallish side, a slim waist, generous hips, long dancer's legs, and a completely shaved pussy. That was my first view of a totally hairless pubic area.

I was not a very skilled lover. Neither was Rita, as it turned out. But we fucked with our hearts that night, as much as anything else. I lasted reasonably well, but came inside her before she finished. Following a tip from something she read, or what someone told her, she went down on me, intending to restore my erection. But she was not prepared for the rich combined juices that still coated my member, and gagged in the act. She was greatly embarrassed, and we abandoned any further fucking in favor of simply clinging to each other and indulging our brief opportunity for intimacy.

9. A couple of years passed before I saw Rita again. By then I was remarried, and Rita had completed her graduate work. She returned to town to dissolve her home here, and called to ask if we might store a few valued things for her until she could retrieve them from us. She was about to leave for a new career in the desert southwest. We had the space, and I agreed. Rita brought her things by, and we visited briefly. As she was departing, she stood very close to me, and became silent for a moment. It was the perfect time for an embrace, perhaps a kiss, perhaps a quick rekindling of a former intimacy, but I resisted the temptation. At least I had the good sense not to shake her hand. I squeezed her shoulder instead, and made her promise to keep in touch. She never did. Rita was apparently testing the bond of my new marriage, and believed it to be stronger than our attraction for each other. But it was my cowardice, not my fidelity, that kept me from acknowledging the power and the reality of our love.