"I Can't Stop Loving You," Ch. 04bySusanJillParker©
Please vote. Please give me the support of your vote.
I dedicate this story to Walter, my Daddy.
A devoted husband, 68-year-old Walter, an older man, found love again with 39-year-old Susan, a much younger woman after his beloved Mary died.
Continued from Chapter 03:
Even though those love songs sometimes made her feel sad, those stupid love songs made her feel alive. Even though those love songs sometimes made her feel sad, those stupid love songs were the only things that helped her by making her feel connected to someone, even if that someone is dead. They jogged her memories and inspired her thoughts of William and Patrick. Even though she felt sad when thinking about them, she felt alive when remembering them. Every time she thought of them, she prayed for them.
She had a life once, a good life, when William and Patrick were part of her life. Without hearing those love songs playing over and again, there was nothing but death, dead people, headstones, tombstones, and gravesites. Without love, just a blurb in the obituaries, no one would care that she died. Without having loved someone and someone having loved her, she may as well be dead. If only through those love songs, she was glad that death was interrupted by love.
With love so much part of life, love was so much part of death too. Everywhere she looked were dead people. It's sadly funny how she seemingly felt more comfortable with the dead than she did with the living. Without hearing those love songs playing over and again in her head, she felt just as dead as those who were buried in the cemetery.
Seemingly with him not paying attention to her in the way that she paid attention to him, obviously, he didn't even know that she was listening to and was addicted to hearing those nine, love songs. Sometimes when feeling so lonely and sad, hoping that her mystery man was there visiting Mary, she drove to the cemetery not to visit with William but to pretend she was visiting with Patrick to hear his love songs from afar. With Patrick's grave closer to Mary's grave than William's grave, she used Patrick as her excuse to be there.
Now, with him not paying any attention to her, she felt as ridiculous as she felt pathetic. Obviously, he's not interested in her in the way she's interested in him. Obviously he was still morning over Mary. Obviously, there was no room in his life for another woman, especially with Mary passing around the same time that Patrick had died.
Then, one day, he wasn't there again. So unusual not to see him there, it was odd not to see him there standing guard over Mary's tomb while playing those nine love songs. Yet, even when she wasn't there to hear them and even when he wasn't there to play them, as if he was haunting the cemetery, she heard his love songs playing over and again in her head. Now with her sitting in front of Patrick's headstone while hoping he'd arrive, when he didn't, she felt ridiculously pathetic again.
What was she doing? She felt so lost. She felt so lonely. As if she had just lost another man in her life, a man she never had the pleasure of even meeting, she felt so sad.
Suddenly, as if there was an angel coming up behind her, the air around her changed. She felt the aura and the presence of something or someone. She could feel the stare of someone or something coming up behind her. Suddenly, she was as afraid as she was excited to know that she wasn't alone. Suddenly, as if there was an animal walking through the grass, a squirrel, a cat, or a dog, she heard a shuffling movement behind her.
"Hi," he said keeping his distance from intruding on her in the way she had maintained her distance from intruding on him.
When she turned and looked up at him, as if he was a ghost and she was imagining him standing there, he was standing a few feet behind her. Seeing him up close, he was much better looking than she thought he was and younger than she thought he was.
"Hi," she said giving him a warm smile as if she was greeting someone she already knew.
Looking at her beloved, Patrick's tombstone before looking at her, He gave the headstone she sat in front of a long pensive stare before giving her a nod.
"We have him in common," he said returning her warm smile with his. "He was my attorney and my friend."
As if saying a silent prayer, he bowed his head and stared at the headstone before looking at her.
"No kidding. Small world," she said looking from him to look at the headstone before looking back at him.
Now that she was meeting him especially with him confessing that he knew Patrick, she didn't know what to say and how to respond to that surprising bit of insightful information. Instead of controlling the conversation in the way she had a habit of doing and thought she'd do when if ever meeting him, she figured she'd allow him to lead while she followed. She'd much rather learn more about him than to tell him about herself. He looked like the kind of man who'd want to take control of her. Only, with him knowing Patrick, she didn't know what he knew and how much he knew about the relationship she had with his friend and lawyer.
"I've seen you here a few times before and I apologize for not coming over sooner but I didn't want to intrude. I wanted to give you your space. By the time I thought about introducing myself to you, when I looked up, you were already gone," he said.
She shaded her eyes from the sun to look up at him.
"I've seen you here before too," she admitted with a smile. "I enjoy the music you play, especially Ray Charles' I Can't Stop Loving You. That's my favorite song, especially now with Patrick gone," she confessed.
He nodded in agreement.
"That was Mary's favorite song too and has become my favorite song too," he said.
Not wanting him to leave, she gave him a warm smile.
"Somehow while trying to make sense of it all and while trying make a connection with life through death or vice versa, it's calming to listen to love songs while sitting in the quiet of a cemetery," she said. "Just as I never imagined spending my days sitting in a cemetery instead of a bar, I suppose you never imagined spending your days sitting in a cemetery either but it's so peaceful here."
He stared at her as if trying to recognize her face.
"I remember Patrick had a daughter. I have no idea what she'd look like today. I met her so very long ago when she was just a child. Are you her?"
* * * * *
Not wanting their brief meeting to end, she delayed her response to hopefully delay his departure with some sexy flirting, erotic teasing, and practiced flashing. Ready to flash him her shapely thighs and panties in the way she flashed William and Patrick when first meeting them, she only wished she was wearing her short, sexy skirt instead of her tight jeans. Now or never, with her knowing that all men enjoyed seeing what they shouldn't see of a woman, this was her opportunity to get to know the man she had been watching with romantic interest for so very long.
She turned her body to face him as if she was readying herself to give him unsolicited, oral sex. Wanting to give him an image he'd never forget, she moved from her sitting position to move to her knees. With her hands on her knees and with her leaning a little forward, she was deliberately giving him a down blouse view of her cleavage and bra. As if she was Sister Kathryn from the Holy Order of Virgins getting ready to give a priest oral sex, she knelt before him. Knowing he would, she watched his eyes dart from her pretty face to peek down her low cut blouse that always fell forward with her. No man she knew could ever resist a free peek of her bra clad breasts.
A practiced move she had made in her bedroom mirror, she knew he could see her long, line of revealing cleavage, the top of her meaty breasts, and her sexy, low cut bra. Not shy, ashamed, embarrassed, or modest, just as men, especially older men were all voyeurs, she was an exhibitionist. She loved flashing men, especially, appreciative, older men, her sexy, shapely body. As much as she enjoyed flashing men her panties, she loved flashing men her big tits. As if readying herself to reach out her hand and feel his cock through his pants, before pulling down his zipper and reaching her hand inside to pull out his cock, and suck him, she ran a slow, purposeful tongue over her lips. A move she had done with William and Patrick when first meeting them, as if slowly sliding her tongue across her lips was a secret signal to an unspoken language, she knew he enjoy seeing her tongue too. She knew he was imagining his cock on his cock and his stiff prick in her mouth. Mesmerizing him as if she had just hypnotized him with her sexy smile and naughty look, he looked at her with sexual excitement as if he had her same thought of oral sex on his mind too.
In the way she sucked William and Patrick, she'd suck him too. As much as she loved stroking cock, she loved giving blowjobs. Sucking cock was her favorite sexual thing to do. She loved it when a man put a gentle hand to the back of her head and ejaculated in her mouth while feeling her naked breasts and fingering her erect nipples. Just as she imagined that he was wondering what she was thinking, she wondered what he was thinking too. In the way she perceived him as interesting, desirable, and eligible, she wondered how he perceived her.
* * * * *
Called the blowjob queen in college, while having her breasts felt and her nipples fingered, Susan loved giving hand jobs and blowjobs. She especially loved sucking the cocks of older men who never had their cocks sucked. Seeing the looks on their faces made her as sexually excited as she made them. They were always as sexually excited as they were appreciated that she'd want to suck them.
Sadly, too many women from their generation didn't enjoy oral sex in the way she loved giving and receiving oral sex. She loved it when they showed her their sexual appreciation for a blowjob well done by ejaculating their cum in her mouth. She even enjoyed it when the man she loved gave her a cum bath by splashing their cum all over her face, in her beautiful hair, and all over her D cup breasts. She especially enjoyed their attentiveness when they returned the favor and gave her oral sex too. There was nothing more sexually satisfying than receiving an oral orgasm before giving one too.
With the both of them obviously grieving, needy, and lonely, she wondered if he was thinking what she was thinking. As if getting ready to blow him, no doubt giving him a message and an image he'd never soon forget, she flipped back her long, lush, naturally blonde hair with a practiced backward nod of her beautiful head. Catching the rays of the sun, while arranging itself as if her hair was strings of a harp, her hair slowly cascaded down her back as if she had just sprouted angel wings. As if he was counting every strand of her beautiful, golden hair, he stared at the hair show she gave him.
With her at the right height to give him oral sex before she stood, Susan stood from her seated position on the blanket she brought. She leaned forward to pick up the blanket, shake it out, and carefully fold it before tucking it beneath her arm. When she did the top of her low cut blouse fell all the way forward to show him a sight that she knew he'd love to see. Deliberate in her flashing intent while knowing he'd look down her blouse, she lit him up with her smile and her big, blue eyes.
As if he was a teenaged boy instead of an elderly man, from her leaning forward angle, she couldn't help but notice the bulge that pushed out his pants. She had given him an erection by merely flashing him the tops of her breasts, her cleavage, and the top of her bra. She couldn't imagine what he'd be like if he saw her naked breasts. In the way that William and Patrick stared at her beauty when first meeting her, he stared at her too. In the way that William and Patrick loved her big tits, catching him looking down her low cut top at her long line of sexy cleavage, seemingly he did too.
* * * * *
"No, I'm not his daughter. His daughter lives somewhere in the south of France. She married well," she said with an uncomfortable pause. "With him not invited to attend her wedding and to meet his grandchild, Patrick grew distant from his daughter after she didn't attend her mother's funeral. Somehow she blamed her mother's death on him. Then, the last she had to do with him was when he took up with me," she said with sadness and a shrug. "No daughter should abandon her father."
Feeling as if she had been found out and exposed, seemingly Patrick reached beyond the grave to introduce her to this much older man. She wondered what his name was. She wondered how old he was. With him knowing Patrick, and with the three men seemingly around the same age, she wondered if he knew William too.
Unable to stop herself from wondering, she wondered what else he knew about her and about the special relationship they enjoyed, if he knew anything else at all. She wondered if he knew they had sex. She wondered if he knew she gave Patrick regular blowjobs, as many blowjobs as he wanted, and anytime he wanted one. She wondered if she should identify herself or hold back her identity but with Patrick dead, what did it matter now who knew her and understood the relationship they had and enjoyed with him then.
"Oh," he said looking at her as if wondering who she was as an uncomfortable silence grew between them.
She erected her 5'9" height, 5'11" tall with her wearing her shoes with a 2" heel. When she stood from her blanket, hoping he preferred tall, leggy, blonde women, she wanted to be at the same level as his gaze was when she told him who Patrick was to her. Whether it was good, bad, or indifferent, she wanted to see the look on his face, in his eyes, and to read his reaction. With him 6'1" tall, she was almost as tall as him. Proud of her cleavage and always showing it off, catching him looking down at her big tits more than once, she hoped he preferred a busty woman and seemingly by his stare, he did.
"He was my Daddy," she said.
* * * * *
She pushed out her big chest with pride while pausing in her introduction of herself to look at him.
She looked at him to see how her information was received that Patrick was not her father but her Daddy. He looked at her with a face full of curiosity before suddenly looking at her with a look of insight. Instead of looking at her as if she was a close friend of his friend and lawyer, he looked at her as if she was a gold digging whore. No doubt, the word Daddy was the keyword of him understanding who she was, what she did, and what role she played in Patrick's last years.
Nevertheless the look he gave her, feeling a connection, she still liked him and felt that they could have a friendship and perhaps even have a sexual relationship. No doubt, with the three men all around the same age, just as he had been friends with Patrick, he would have liked William too. When he didn't show any reaction to what she said, other than a look of insight in what she meant that Patrick was her Daddy, and with her feeling safe in his company, she introduced herself.
Then, as if she had squirted him in the face with a water gun, his head bobbed back and his eyes bulged forward. As if he knew her, he looked at her totally differently now.
Reflecting on her name as if he had heard her name before and/or knew who she was, he ran a slow pensive hand over his bald head.
"Yes, Susan," she said again.
He now showed more of a reaction to meeting her than meeting her when he obviously thought that she was just a stranger he met in the cemetery.
"You're the one he never talked to anyone about but always smiled when anyone mentioned your name. You're Susan. You're his Susan, the love of his life."
Flattered that Patrick would proceed her name with that compliment, she gave him an embarrassed smile.
"That's me. I'm Susan," she said with a laugh and a blush. "I don't know about being the love of his life. I'd like to think that I was the love of his life for the short time we were together but the love of his life may have been his deceased wife, Maureen."
He returned her smile with his.
"Maybe in the beginning Maureen was the love of his life. Maybe when they were first married and had their daughter but I can assure you that Patrick was never as happy when you came into his life," he said.
He gave her a big smile.
"Thank you for that information. That's gratifying to know and kind of you to tell me that," said Susan.
He paused as if rethinking what he was going to say next but blurted out what he was obviously thinking anyway.
"I always wondered what you looked like and why he was so smitten with you and now I know. You're so very beautiful," he said talking to her breasts while looking down at her breasts instead of looking up at her face.
Obviously, he thought her big breasts were more beautiful than her pretty face. Then, taking her all in, he stared at her as if he was looking at a model or at the image of a ghostly angel that suddenly appeared from one of the graves in the cemetery. Even though she had been visiting Patrick's gravesite for a long time and he had admitted to seeing her before, he looked at her as if it was his first time seeing her.
"Thank you," said Susan.
She gave him a warm smile and, when he didn't offer her his hand, she stuck out her hand. A curious custom that men not always readily shared with women, men seldom offered their hands to women to shake, especially older men, in the way they readily offered their hands to men to shake their hands. He accepted her hand and shook it while looking at her with curiosity again.
"It's so nice to finally meet you. I only wish I could have met you when Patrick and my Mary were still alive," he said looking at her with sadness while pumping her hand as if priming a well for water.
She laughed at his sudden exuberance.
"It's nice to meet you, too," she said. Only, what's your name?"
Then, when he introduced himself, his sad look turned to joy.
"Sorry. I'm Walter," he said beaming her a wide smile. "Maybe Patrick mentioned me."
Walter? His name is Walter. A strong name and a manly name, she liked his name. In the way she didn't know anyone named William or Patrick, other than Sir Walter Raleigh, the late Walter Mathau, and Walt Disney, of course, she didn't know anyone named Walter. Retrieving her hand from his grip, she smiled a sad smile while looking down at Patrick's grave.
"Due to confidentially of lawyer/client privilege, Patrick never discussed his work or his clients with me. Instead of talking business and legal issues, we had fun together," she said.
She looked up at Walter with her big, blue eyes to give him a wide inviting smile that hinted that they could have fun together too, if he so wanted.
"He was so funny and so witty, he always made me laugh," she said. "If I was anything, I was his muse, his confidant, and his best friend for the time that we were together."
She smiled before looking back down at his grave with a sadness that betrayed the obvious love she still had for him.
"He was a good man, a good attorney, and a good friend," said Walter with sadness.
As if they were both praying they remained respectfully silent while staring down at Patrick's grave.
"He was so wise, so kind, and so generous with his time," she said with a pause.
She didn't want him to know that he was generous with his money too.
"That's Patrick alright," said Walter. "He could never say no to anyone."
She fell silent again while looking at the final resting place of her beloved Patrick.
"He always knew how to fix a problem just as he always knew the right thing to say and the correct thing to do."