tagRomanceThey Say You Can't Go Home Again

They Say You Can't Go Home Again

bymagichandslee©

{This story is a true one, I was there. It was written by my late husband, Ted, about a year or so before his passing. I liked it but I never found a place I thought it might fit until I saw the Earth Day contest. Perhaps readers will enjoy it}

Lee.


We were heading home. It had been far too long since Lee and I had visited the ranch where I grew up as a boy, then became a man.

I basked in the throb of the powerful engine in my z06 Corvette as I drove briskly down the fast lane of the freeway. You would need to drive one to understand, these are special.

Glancing over at Lee, my lovely wife, her eyes were closed and she had her seat tipped back as far as it would go.

The interior design of the machine doesn't allow for reclining the seats much, but they are so comfortable it doesn't matter.

Lee is simply a joy to the eyes, the soft light blue blouse formed and outlined her smallish breasts, her large nipples obvious under the material. She had the hem of her matching skirt pulled up, letting the sunlight in to warm her legs.

Just beautiful.

With only a few smile lines around her eyes, her features are the kind that are ageless. She could be 30, she could be 50, impossible to tell for sure. Her body is slender, and in shape, none of the sagging or slipping that should have been normal for her 48 years.

An always willing lover, even eager, Lee is the kind of woman a man usually finds only in dreams. She seems to always have just one goal, to make me, and us, happy.

Lee willingly shares herself with others, knowing I enjoy it. She also enjoys it. She also delights in watching me with another woman, and has taken steps from time to time to assist in seductions.

We have had many fine times, it is fun being naughty. Lee also is an exhibitionist by nature, she loves the looks she gets when something is exposed by "accident."

My simple glance at her as I drove started a tingling in my loins, it is always that way. I have touched and been with many women in my life, and in my work as a Massage Therapist. Yet very few ever affect me the way she does.

Lee had reacted with joy when I suggested the 200 mile trip to the ranch. We visit normally 3 to 4 times each year, this was one of those spur of the moment trips. She loves the Ranch, 400 acres of wild country, mostly untouched by human hands.

The family ranch is amazing, other than the 4 homes and outbuildings, it stands today the way God intended. I grew up learning to live off that land, my Father taught me to catch or find food that is everywhere if one knows where to look.

Yes, I have a home, but the family ranch is home to me.

My attention came back to the highway as my radar buzzed, I dropped the speed back to a steady 70 until it cleared, then back to normal.

Yes, I drive too fast, but I also can drive very well, very fast if I choose. We covered the 200 mile distance in just over 3 hours.

My 85 year old Mother was on the porch to greet us, her tiny frail frame felt good in my arms. She didn't know about the spots eating away at me in my chest, I never told her. Some things are best left unsaid.

I looked over the family pictures hanging on the wall. The main one is of my Father, gone to his reward at 96. He simply ate his breakfast one morning, went and sat down in his chair and came to a stop. No pain, no Doctors, just stopped. We should all be so blessed when our day comes.

We were barely sat down before Mom started bringing out food, like always. It is the way of Mothers all over, I guess.

As evening approached, I told Lee I was going for a walk. She knows me and understands me, she smiled and went back to her chat with Mom. "Chats" with my Mother are mostly listening, I swear, she saves up conversation until a member of the family arrives. Then all one can do is listen as she tells all the news of everything that happened since the last visit.

Stopping on the porch, I picked up my Dad's light fishing rod, and headed out across the field to the nearby slough.

The entire place is an island. The sloughs surrounding are fresh water, reclaimed by tidegates many years before from the salt water.

I grew up watching the change in the land from a saltwater marsh to acres and acres of Magenta and Gold. Light grazing during the summer keeps the fields in shape, and brings a bit of extra money to help Mom get by.

Gazing across the pasture at the far hills, the fields and hillsides that once grazed cattle, grew trees, with huge fields of hay and corn now sprout homes. I realized I walked in a pinpoint of nature, surrounded by change in every direction.

Only my Father's stubborness and lack of desire for money had saved the place. When the County had many years before sent a notice in the mail telling him the place was to be rezoned into one acre homesites, Dad had hit the roof.

He had appeared at the next Commission meeting, my 3 strapping brothers and I at his side. When it became his turn to speak, I saw my Father, a simple farmer, turn into a politician of eloquence.

"You'll not destroy this land!" he said. Then he went into a long and convincing speech about all the creatures of the soil, and how man could not live unless he kept some things as God intended.

The capper came when he cleverly mentioned the value increase of all the surrounding properties due to the view of our beautiful ranch, with wide fields and a natural water boundry, the hill in the center covered by big natural firs.

I remember the panel starting to nod at his arguments, Dad won his varience, our farm was placed in a nature reserve for all time.

I stared at my Father in awe that day, I had no idea he could speak like that. Our 400 acres was left alone as the areas surrounding lost trees and grew roads. Home became a little like passing through a doorway into another time, another world.

It wasn't a long walk to the water, less than half a mile. I stopped by the edge of the slough and looked out over the surface, black and still in the fast approaching darkness.

Resting on the bank, I just watched. Swallows flitted down, splashing the dark sheen and breaking the stillness briefly in their quest of insects.

A Nutria with several young in tow slid out of it's den and across the surface, small riffles created by it's passing.

The background sounds were the "hrumpf" of Bullfrogs, a cascade mix of birds chirping, and tiny splashes as different creatures fed in the evening calm. I watched as fish nibbled at a tidbits, the tiny swirls of the water the only indication of their passing.

I lay back and closed my eyes, almost dozing at the sounds of the world around me. My thoughts drifted back to other evenings so many years past. As a child I had often sat on this very spot.

I remembered quietly enjoying the sounds of a wild world, when a voice had said, "Hello!".

I sat up, it was Paula. Paula was a shy young girl who was a year junior to me, and lived on a smaller ranch about a mile away on the other side of the slough. We were fast friends all during our youth.

I greeted her and we sat and talked for a long time. She had suddenly piped up with, "Do you want to kiss me?" which took me completely by surprise.

Bashful, I had stammered something, then she leaned forward and put her mouth on mine.

It was my first kiss, it felt odd and wonderful at the same time. I quickly decided I liked that, soon we were kissing a lot.

She then reached down and took my hand and placed it on her breast. I could feel the softness of the tiny swelling through the thin dress she wore, there was nothing underneath. I felt myself stiffen at the touch of her.

I was completely embarrassed by that, and she was now aggressive. Her hand went to my groin, I almost jumped out of my skin.

Her voice took on an odd silky tone I had not heard before, she asked to see my "Thing!" I was mortified and refused. I pushed her urgent hands away, frightened.

Angry, Paula jumped up and ran, yelling over her shoulder, "Well, you can't see mine then either!" and she was gone.

I remember sitting there in complete confusion, then watched as the boat she used to cross the slough slid out from the bank and she rowed back to the other side.

I spent many evenings on the bank after that, waiting. Paula never came. I was too young, I didn't have the sense or the nerve to just ask her to. She never mentioned that day again, I didn't either, we stayed fast friends.

Shaking off the memory, I sat up. I picked up Dad's old fishing rod, and flipped the small spinner out into the water. It was dark enough now that I could barely see the splash the lure made.

Just a couple of turns on the handle and a small Trout grabbed the lure, I reached down and slipped the barbless hook from it's mouth and let it go. Two more casts each brought a repeat, satisfied, I sat back down.

I almost slept, then I realized I could sense more than see motion across the dark water. As it got closer, I realized it was a little boat. Curious, I watched the shadow secure the boat and head my way.

"I saw your car come in, I knew you would be here," the voice said.

It was Paula.

"Hi" I said, reaching for her hand as she plopped down by my side. We just sat quietly holding hands, surrounded by the sounds of our childhood.

I thought about how odd this was, here she sat. More than 40 years since the last time here, on the same bank, same time of year. Almost nothing had really changed, I knew from our silence we both were remembering that day.

I had danced with Paula at a nightclub a year before when Lee and I were down for a visit. Even then it was like we had never been apart somehow.

Just one other time, as young adults, Paula and I had had a brief fling. I would have kept her, taken her for my own that day. But she was married and left with her man.

I turned to give her a hug, pleased to see her. We held each other for a moment, basking in the thoughts of being so very young here in this spot.

She told me that her husband had left a few years before, and after her parents had passed, she had inherited the little ranch. Like ours, it had been included in the preserve along with a couple of other smaller places. With no husband, no family left, Paula had just moved back home.

I brought her up to date on my work, we talked a bit about everything under the sun. Conversation with Paula is always an easy thing, we were friends.

Then she turned to me with a smile and said, "Would you like to kiss me?", leaning forward to place her mouth on mine.

I responded and we kissed, knowing. She reached for my hand and placed it on her breast, now mature and full yet still so wonderfully soft under my touch. Her hands went to my groin, I was already fully erect.

There was no shyness or turning back this time, somehow we were both kids again, tugging at each other's clothing. I buried my face in her breasts as they came into my view in the fast fading light. She turned her body to allow me to slide the dress down and off, she wore nothing else.

We joined in the urgency of youth, I slipped inside her body and we became one, surrounded by all of the sounds and wonder of nature.

Her body orgasmed almost instantly, and I struggled to hold back and take her with me again.

Not a word more was spoken, we both knew. To speak at all would return us to here and now. We needed to be back there at that one moment in our youth, a memory so magic it stayed with us both a lifetime.

I could hold back no more, the sensation and the moment simply took me. I just let my body go as her head went back and her mouth came open.

We lay like that for a very long time, as I softened inside her. She kissed me, I felt the wetness on her face, realized there were tears.

Some of those were mine.

I withdrew, we lay naked side by side on the soft sweet grass of the bank. "Ted, I have always loved you." she told me. I lay there letting that sink in.

In our youth, Paula was always the girl who sat by herself at school dances. I was shy around most girls. Yet I had befriended her, and we were inseperable all through school.

Other than when we were so very young, on this same bank, we had never done anything but be good friends.

Just the one time as an adult I had stolen her briefly from her man, my first time with a woman and it was fine. I regretted not being her first, but that evening years before on this very bank I was too young, not yet ready. Somehow the proper time and moment just never arrived after that until our one brief encounter.

"Yes, I have always loved you too!" I finally told her.

Paula hugged me with a grip so tight I almost couldn't breath, then the softness and touch of her body started me up again.

We made love again, slowly and sweetly, exploring and fun this time. We orgasmed at the same moment, a rare thing in lovemaking but so wonderful when it does happen. Our spasms were in unison and powerful.

We lay back again, the moon was beginning to peek over the hills, I could see the outline of her nude body in the growing light. I felt the beginnings of another erection, she knew and just stroked me gently, giving me sweet sensations.

We dressed, I held her in my arms, her breasts mashed against my chest. Then she let go, and started towards the little boat to cross back to her place.

She stopped and turned, "Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"See you then." and she was gone.

I sat and watched as the outline of the boat slowly vanished in the dim light. I could clearly hear as she beached on the other side, the sounds of the pussywillows rasping against the sides of the boat, then the rattle of the oars.

"I do love you!" drifted across the dark water. "I should have never let you go!"

"I love you too." I said back quietly, trusting the water to carry my words to her.

So little time left now to me, to us. I thought about my wife, Lee. My love for her is different and deep. I know I will end my days with her. Yet my love for Paula never wavered, it is the kind one has with true friends, a rare and beautiful thing in life.

Picking up the fishing pole, I made one last cast. Like nearly always, a Trout grabbed it. I grinned as I slipped the hook and released it, then started the walk back to the house. Some things really do stay the same.

Two nearly 60 year old children, making love on a riverbank in the dark.

Such a sweet thing to experience.

They say one can't go home again.

I did. For just a moment, I did.

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