Helper

From his seated position on the comforters, Terry watched as she slowly continued, as if trying to make the g-string slip to reveal her all, but with her back straight, her breasts were once again doing their own battle with the baby doll's little cups. Lacey had moved her hands to her knees to support herself, so when her boobs slipped, they came out completely, causing her to grin as she raised an eyebrow suggestively. Her nipples were hard little points now tracing their own little route through the air below her, teasing him more and more.

Terry's tipping point, building for so long, suddenly came, and he almost leapt from his seated position, grabbing her hips and effectively putting an end to her temptress dance as he buried his mouth into her, sliding his tongue in beside the back string of the little panty and deep into her slit. Lacey's reply was a triumphant giggle that quickly turned to a moan as Terry started focusing his attention on her clit, with her pushing back against him as she threw off her Valentine's outfit to get it out of the way..

"Please, Terry, keep going! Please," she cried out, but it was unnecessary for he had no intention of stopping. He wanted more than anything to give her all the pleasure possible, to make her feel alive, to feel wonderful, to feel wanted, for wanted she definitely was. Her moans showed that he was on the right path even before she started to quiver, her thighs first, and then her pussy as she let out an uncontrolled moan.

As if exhausted, she fell forward to her hands and knees before sinking down into a ball, her head on her arms and her buttocks atop her heels. "Thank you, Honey," she breathed, "thank you. That was..." Words failed her then and she gave a long, soft moan of contentment.

Terry slipped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. He'd worked his way out of his shirt and undone his belt and pants, but the pants were still mostly in place. Now resting against him, Lacey slid a hand into the front opening and ran her hand over the hardness below his boxer briefs. She stroked lightly a few times as she regained her senses before reaching for his pants.

Terry helped her remove them and his underwear but now Lacey was in control again, pushing him back to lie flat on the comforter in front of the warm glow of the fire. She took his penis in hand and gave him several full strokes to feel him pulse before she leaned in to kiss him again and again and then started lightly licking his sensitive spots. When he gave a low moan of his own and started to move, she took him into her mouth to continue her efforts for a bit before he eventually eased her off and up. "I love that but it's time for the main event," he said.

He started to sit up to ask how she wanted to do it, but Lacey pushed on his chest with one hand as she pushed the flimsy g-string down with the other. "Just stay right there," she said.

Moving up, she flipped the tiny panty away with her foot and swung her leg over him before pressing down against him. Sliding her wetness along his length, she whispered, "Get in me, now. I need you so bad."

Terry positioned himself at her opening and she sank down on him in one slow, smooth motion. She was still for a moment as she leaned forward on him, pressing her breasts against him as they kissed. Terry's rocking movements caused her to break the kiss and raise her upper body up, supporting herself on his chest as he rocked within her. His hands went to her soft breasts, both needing and kneading them before he pinched her nipples lightly.

"Ahh!" she exclaimed before biting her lower lip as she started working her pelvis in rhythm with him. Terry's right hand eventually strayed from her breast, leading her to give him a little pouty expression until she felt his thumb grazing her little nub. This brought a throaty moan from her depths and she leaned back, resting her hands on Terry's knees as he increased the speed of his thumb and his thrusts, which were now hitting her g-spot. He felt himself building and knew that he wouldn't be able to last much longer.

At the same time, Lacey's face contorted as she tried to delay her climax. "Honey, are you there?" she gasped. "Come in me, Terry! Come with me now!"

Perhaps that was all they needed for Lacey moaned and pitched forward to lie against him as Terry exploded into her.

Breathing hard, they held each other as they caught their breath, the fire's flickers casting dancing shadows around them.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetie. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Honey."

***

Having gone upstairs to bed sometime after their evening activities, Terry awoke early the next morning with Lacey next to him, looking at him. He immediately noted tears in her eyes. "What's wrong, Lacey? Are you okay?"

She shook her head as the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks. "Terry, I love you so much, too, more than anything, but...but, that's not enough any more."

Terry was shaking his head. "Why, Lacey? What do we need to do to change that?"

It was the same question he'd asked a number of times before, but Lacey's answer was still the same, too.

"I don't know why, I can't explain it, and I don't know what to do. I hoped last night would be part of the solution and it really was wonderful. I wanted it so much because we've had so many special Valentine's memories over the years; I hoped last night would be another, one we could always remember and cherish—"

"It was, Lacey. It was wonderful and special and any other good adjective we could throw at it—"

"I'm glad, and I felt so, too, Terry, but...but, as great as it was, it's not enough. Terry, I...I hate to admit it but I'm really not okay and it's getting worse by the day. Shhh... this is so hard, let me finish, please? I don't understand it and really can't explain it, no matter how hard I try. I just can't. I'm so, so sorry, my love, but I have to go. I'm leaving today—"

"Lacey, leaving?"

"I have to do it, Terry, or it will never get better—I'll never get better. I'll take what I need now, and will have the rest of my things picked up in a few days after I find someplace to stay and as soon as I can arrange it. I'll call the kids to let them know and then, well, I have to go."

***

Chapter 2

Separated, Terry and Lacey continued looking for answers individually, together, with Mrs. Carmichael, with Lacey's doctors, and even with a psychiatrist she started consulting, but the answers they so desperately needed weren't forthcoming and Lacey, completely defeated, finally gave up a few weeks later. They split as amicably as they could, with the divorce filed on April 1st, leaving Terry feeling like the namesake fool caught in a spotlight and their college-age kids wondering, much like their parents, what the hell had happened between two people who'd always loved each other so much.

It was a while before the divorce was finalized but Lacey reportedly left town to search for whatever it was she was seeking, handling everything on her end from a distance, leaving contact through her lawyers in case of an emergency with Terry or the kids.

Terry waited until school was out and then took the new graduates, their 22-year old twin boys, Ethan and Aidan, and their sister, Ellie, younger by almost two years, on a month-long, nature-oriented, RV vacation to national parks across the western United States.

Their trek was a big hit and brought Terry's remaining family closer together, but it was over far too soon. With the boys having graduated from college, they went their own ways, taking jobs in two widely separated locations in the eastern U.S. When Ellie returned to college in the fall, it left Terry in the curious position of really being alone for the first time in his life.

"Terry, get a dog," advised his big sister, Rose, five years his senior and almost four years past her second divorce. "A dog will be a great companion for you and, if you get a cute one, it'll be a chick magnet when you take it to the park. Or," she added conspiratorially, "maybe get a really ugly one. Some ladies like them, too."

Terry stared at his sister's image on the monitor before shaking his head. "Rose, that might work if I was 30 or maybe even 40, but I'm over 50 now. Most women look at me like I'm last week's leftovers: old and unappetizing."

She laughed at him. "You're silly. Fifty's not old, little brother, it's distinguished. And most women, if they have any sense at all, will soon realize that you're a damn fine catch. I bet I could set you up with a whole passel of women if you'd move up here to Cleveland."

He almost shivered at the thought and politely declined her offer, preferring to stay in the south, but he couldn't get what she'd said off his mind. He'd had his parents and Rose and Patricia, his two sisters, while he grew up, and then there'd been roommates throughout college. He'd met Lacey, a college senior, right at the beginning of grad school. They started living together a few months later and had continued to do so until she walked out. Therefore, he was quite lonely, but his occasional travels for work prevented him from following Rose's advice and getting a dog. That was why Sylvester the Cat came to live with him. He was adopted with his name already attached from one of those Saturday shelter-adopt-a-thons at a local big-box pet supply store.

Sylvester was a Maine Coon, large, dark, and friendly, but like many cats, he really did pretty much whatever he wanted, keeping Terry company whenever he wished and sleeping or minding his own business most of the rest of the time. It wasn't long before Sylvester and Terry settled into a stable and seemingly happy relationship in that year after Lacey left, with occasional visits from the neighbor boys who dropped by to care for Sylvester when Terry was away on business. Terry talked to Rose frequently and Patricia on occasion and he tried to maintain a positive outlook on the future. In addition, he and Carl, his best friend, got together fairly frequently to commiserate on their failed marriages. Carl's wife had bailed out on him about a year before Lacey left Terry.

The months passed and as Valentine's Day, the fulcrum of the anniversary of their split, approached, Terry became more and more apprehensive. He still loved Lacey as much as he had before, but he increasingly began to accept the fact that she wasn't coming back. He relived that wonderful evening over and over in his mind, and spent far too much time, in his mind anyway, thinking of how they might do it again some day. Rose agreed.

"Terry, let it be," she warned. "I love Lacey like a sister—"

"Hey! I remember how you and Tricia loved each other," he laughed. "Lacey wouldn't appreciate that!"

"Okay, maybe that's a bad comparison," she agreed as she joined him with a chuckle. "My point is, Lacey's moved on and I don't think she'd want you trying to entrap her in your fantasies and I don't like the idea for her either, little brother. I'm not saying it will never happen, mind you, but wasting time dreaming about something like that keeps you from investing your time in more worthwhile pursuits. Valentine's Day is in less than a week—you know, new beginnings?—so get a card or buy some flowers and send them to someone new, someone you might have a chance with, okay?"

"Okay, sis. Let me see what I can do," he agreed with his fingers crossed.

"Results, Terry! I expect results."

The video call ended and he shut down the camera and the monitor. There was no one of interest and he didn't want to pick someone out of the blue and be deemed a pervert or an idiot.

Instead, he spent the last few days before the holiday of love thinking of what he might say to Lacey if they were to run into each other unexpectedly. With each passing day, what was in effect his love letter to her grew, but on the evening of Valentine's Day, rather than being out on date or trying to find new love, he sat looking at the computer screen, staring at the words and feeling the hole in his heart. He added a few words, changed others, and cut words, often including some of those he'd just typed. By 8 PM that evening, he'd had it. Deleting all he'd typed before, he wrote:

Dear Lacey,

Happy Valentine's Day. I hope you're doing well and are having success finding whateber you're seeking. Give me a call sometime if you ever want to talk.

Love,

Terry

He hit SEND before he had time to think about changing anything, before he even noticed the typo.

***

The remaining hours and minutes of Valentine's Day crept by as he hoped for a reply, but nothing was forthcoming and the days and weeks that followed seemed to do so with increasing speed.

Rose stayed after him, even guessing that the note he'd 'sent to someone without ever receiving a reply' was sent to Lacey. "Terry! What am I doing to do you with you, little brother?"

When he didn't volunteer any ideas, she told him more about her new boyfriend and how they had been hitting it off (and, he figured, hitting it) since their first date on Valentine's. Terry sat, gritting his teeth while pretending to smile, thinking about how much he hated video calls. If they'd been on their phones rather than the video, he could have at least been playing 'Get the Laser Pointer" with Sylvester. Or, at least, trying to.

By early June, there'd still been no reply from Lacey to his message, and he was frustrated. Therefore, as much as he hated it, he decided to get back into the dating scene.

Looking to try something, anything, he joined the "older singles" group at his church, but after just a few meetings, he found that it was about 80 percent single men and 20 percent women. The women seemed to be in heaven having such a dating pool (and, it seemed, rather frequent sex, despite the group's sponsoring organization), but none of them interested him very much and he didn't like the odds anyway, so by mid August, he'd quit going to any more of their meetings.

He met several women on his own in the months that followed, but there was something about each that was disqualifying in his eyes, including one who seemed too interested.

Rose admonished him as a result. "You're not being fair, Terry, in that you're looking for perfection. I'm telling you, it doesn't exist, particularly when you are measuring one potential date against another, like measuring against Lacey."

"But Lacey was perfect—"

"No! She wasn't, Terry! Your idea of Lacey made her perfect in your eyes, but if you step back and look at her from a distance with your rose-colored glasses—"

"Not the Rose glasses joke again!"

"Okay," she laughed. "You remembered it. Anyway, what I'm saying is that, if you're perfectly honest, you'll admit Lacey wasn't quite as perfect as you hold her up to be. Then, look at those women you're comparing to her. They aren't perfect either, but neither are you. You're all putting yourself out there to meet people and have fun, so don't be so damn nit-picky that you never take a chance to go out with anyone!"

Terry listened to what Rose had to say, but he also listened to his heart. In the end, he decided it was too much, so he put off doing anything else for several months, using the excuse that he'd discovered he wasn't ready. He avoided it until Thanksgiving when his kids came home for a visit.

It was like so many gatherings they'd had in the past except for the second year in a row, their mother wasn't present. They had a nice talk about life and school, but eventually, Lacey's name came up.

"Do you talk to your mother often?" he asked, hoping she was keeping up a good relationship with them, even if she never spoke to him again.

The kids looked at each other, and nodded. Ethan, their usual spokesman when it came to a united front, said, "We talk to her occasionally, Dad, but she always asks about us and what we're doing, but never gives us any details about herself, where she is, or what she's doing."

Terry nodded on learning the situation was about like he expected. It was also unsaid, but from what was, Terry understood that their mother never asked about him either. He was, he realized, only a footnote in her life.

Later that evening as they gathered around for a family game of Monopoly, they had rather frank discussion about life and sex. While the kids didn't give details, he understood that none of them were hurting for companionship.

The boys, now almost 24, told him about something called Tender, where one swiped one way or the other if they were interested in meeting the person.

"It's a dating app, Dad," said Ethan, who set about telling him how it worked while Ellie was gleefully buying up her third railroad.

Aidan was frowning at his brother's explanation.

"What's wrong, Aidan?" asked Terry.

The younger twin, by all of seven minutes, sighed. "It's mostly for sex, Dad. You wouldn't be interested in that."

Both boys laughed and their little sister snickered. "Seriously, Dad, it's okay with us if you want to start dating again," said Ethan. "We love Mom, but she made her choice and you—and we—shouldn't have to suffer for it. Everybody needs somebody to talk to talk to and make out with sometimes."

"To be able to share with and to feel needed," said Aidan, nodding.

"Stress relief, too," said Ellie. "Lisa McCardle in my sorority always says that the right vibrator is a girl's best friend but sex with someone you care about tops that. Well, most of the time, anyway."

Ellie was grinning and the boys were outright guffawing at how red Terry's face was on hearing his daughter's comment. He hid his face behind a hand for a few seconds, recalling that the rule he and Lacey had made when the kids were young was that no subject was off limits so the kids would always feel comfortable speaking with them if they needed to.

"Everything you've said is true," he replied when he could speak with a steady voice, "with the possible exception of Miss McCardle who may have her own personal issues about that." The boys burst out laughing again as Ellie grinned. "I think your mother and I have always told you that sex can be a good thing in the right circumstances; your job is to make sure you understand the circumstances, that you're comfortable with them, and they you're taking the right amount of care to keep from being unpleasantly surprised by the outcome."

All three kids were nodding as he finished, with Ellie reaching out to give him a hug.

Having overcome his initial embarrassment, Terry asked the boys a couple of questions about the Tender app. On receiving replies, he wasn't very comfortable with it, particularly with a name denoting currency and being somewhat reminiscent of an Elvis song. The possible connotations of swiping and being for sex bothered him, too; it sounded like a hooker or escort site to him. He told his children he wasn't interested and they should really stay away from it, too, only to discover when questioned about his reasons that he'd misspelled the name and misunderstood the suggested meaning.

"Oh, like fire-starting tinder?"

"Yeah, Dad. You know, start the love and let it burn bright?"

"I don't know, guys. It still sounds fishy to me and I'd stay far away from it if I were you."

Ellie, who was now 22, also told him about the on-line dating site where she'd filled out her info and been on a few dates before she met her current boyfriend (also through the site). Unfortunately, many of the men who'd shown interest in her were in their 30s or 40s, leading him to almost retch and to tell her he didn't want to hear more or to know the name of the site.

After taking the boys to the airport and seeing Ellie back off to college the next afternoon, Terry wandered and wondered, trying to decide where he was going with his life and who he wanted to do it with. Having no good answers to either, he decided he needed to do some serious soul searching and make some decisions.