Love, A Second Time

Disclaimers: Like nearly all of my stories, each and every character in this tale, is a figment of my overactive imagination, and anyone taking part in any sexual stuff, is over 18 years of age. This story can fit into more than one category, and by the time its finished, I'll find the one that works best, for me. WARNING: I use a very derogatory term for African/Americans, but it is used to advance my story. I never intend to denigrate any race of people.

My name is Paul Glazer, a now 37 year old general contractor. Up until 16 months ago, I was married to my very best friend, Roberta, for just over 15 years.

The tragedy that took my wife away from me and our two children, also tore apart our next door neighbors. You see, my wife was car pooling with our neighbor, Andrew Jones, as his car was in the shop, and his wife Doris, needed her car for their two preschoolers.

Let's back up, just a bit. Roberta and I met at Woodrow Wilson High School, in Tacoma, Washington. I knew the second time we dated, she was something special.

We both knew we had to graduate high school, and maybe, just maybe go to college. I had worked in construction from the time I was 15 years old. I wasn't old enough to do much more than learn all I could, so that's what I did.

My parents encouraged me to learn a good trade, as I wasn't a great student. Oh, I was smart enough, but I just thought if I got a good, running start in the construction game, I would have a jump at being my own boss, some day.

While in high school, Roberta, or Bobbie, as she preferred, and I talked about our future, all through our senior year. Both sets of parents knew of our plans, to get married, after graduation, with me getting ahead with the company I was working for, and Bobbie being accepted into our local community college, where she was going to study accounting.

We had our plans. All through our senior year, we knew we were in love. We had a very hard time keeping our hormones in check, waiting for graduation and for Bobbie to get on the pill.

Our dates usually ended up, with us on either hers or my bed, making out like the love struck teens we were.

We figured at 18, we were physically ready for sex, but, we asked ourselves, were we ready, mentally.

Edging closer to graduation, we were talking with both sets of parents, about our future. I knew I had a job promotion, in just a few weeks, and Bobbie was accepted into the business program, at our local Community College.

Just a week before Senior Prom, we were making out on her bed. Having done this on several occasions, it wasn't new that I had her bra off, and was softly kissing her nice C cups, topped with little, very hard nipples.

I started kissing down her body, stopping to make sure I reached every inch of her entire body. Getting to the edge of her panties, I took a chance, pushing them down over her behind and hips.

As I heard her gasp, quietly, I moved between her thighs, kissing each thigh, as softly as possible. Moving upwards toward her already dripping wet sex. I very tenderly started licking up and down her special area, that I had only dreamed about.

I couldn't believe her reaction. Her scream was so loud, we were both lucky her entire family was out of the house. Her hips were bucking hard enough, I held onto her behind with both hands, with my face buried in her very wet sex.

Within mere minutes, my face was covered in the sweetest nectar I could have ever imagined. Holding her body, as she started to calm down, I moved up, right next to her, with me holding her tightly.

After some very heavy kissing, Bobbie slowly moved down my body, while holding my manhood in one hand. Tentatively, she kissed the head of my cock, then put the first two inches into her mouth. Up and down, while licking all around the head. Up and down. Three inches in her mouth. Four inches, and up and down. My mind was a blaze, never having talked about doing this.

I felt my entire body start shaking, and she felt it, too. Taking her mouth off my sex, and watched as I shot stream after stream all over my chest.

Trying to catch our breath, she took a little towel, and tried cleaning my mess off my chest. We just laid in each other's arms, not saying a word.

After a few minutes, I gently lifted her face, giving her as gentle a kiss as I could. Opening up our mouths, just enough to sneak a little tongue inside, we stayed in our embrace for a few more minutes.

We both felt my manhood starting to grow, again, and without saying a word, I reached under the pillow, and removed a condom hidden, there. Quickly, I unwrapped it, put it on, whispering how much I loved her, then moved between her legs, ran my covered cock up and down its target, and entered the promised land.

With a minimal pinch, she threw her arms around my neck, and locked her legs around my behind. I slowly picked up a little steam, and we really started our very first fucking session.

I'd like to say that I lasted all night, but let's get real, here, folks. Our first time, both just past 18 years of age. We were both very lucky that I lasted nearly ten minutes.

To both of us, trying to catch our breath, it seemed like an hour, or two. My God, neither of us could wipe the smile off our faces.

Lucky for us, her little brother had a sleepover, and her very understanding parents came back to their house, and very quietly disappeared into their bedroom, knowing well enough not to bother us.

The next morning, when my eyes finally opened, I saw her just staring at me with this angelic look on her face. We both said our 'I love you' to each other, agreeing that we wouldn't do anything too daring, with her parents down the hall.

Luckily, Bobbie had her own bathroom, that we used, one at a time, then greeted her parents in the dinning room, for breakfast.

While her mother, Pauline, was cooking breakfast, her dad, Jack, took me into the living room, and started giving me 'the talk' You know what I'm talking about. "Don't you dare get my daughter pregnant." Among other things dads say to protect their daughters.

When we joined 'the girls' back in the dining room, I knew mom and daughter also had 'the talk'

When Senior Prom came around the next week, we thought about just going to the Prom, and one particular after party, and just enjoying each other at her house, by ourselves.

Mother Nature took much of what we might have done, off the table, but we had a fabulous time, despite it all. One of the things we talked about was her mother agreeing to let her go on the pill, seeing as both parents thought we were mature enough to handle that.

Jack did warn me about overdoing our new found sexual relationship. I just nodded, and told him I thought I could control myself.

As Bobbie was starting her college classes, I did get the promotion I was promised, and we continued living like a married couple. Just not on our own, just yet.

I was very busy, helping to build a new subdivision, wondering if Bobbie and I could ever afford something like I was building.

As her first year of classes was coming to an end, and my job flourishing, we started discussing marriage.

We got both families together, and when my parents, Neil and Carol, voiced some hesitation, I reminded them both, we would be in a better financial position than they were, when they got married.

They didn't disagree, but reminded us how much of a struggle they endured. When we finished our discussion, everybody agreed that we had given this much thought and our wedding plans moved forward.

Our wedding would take place right after Bobbie's second year ended, the following June. We started apartment hunting, when I came across a house that had been repossessed, that needed some work, and nearly fit into our budget.

With help from both parents, we actually had a house! Yes, it needed some work, that I could do, and, yes, we managed, with the payments being reasonable.

While my wife to be was finishing her classes, and my job was doing very well, we both spent our weekends doing the odd jobs that our house needed to be done.

Damn, but those two words, "our house" sounded so good. We were living in the house after I did some work on the master bath, and we painted the master bedroom, making it decent to live in. The kitchen needed updating, but we decided that could wait.

Soon, our wedding was here. Bobbie had a very nice bridal shower, which gave us lots of the little things we needed for our new house. Everything was in place for our big day.

Sunshine, family and friends, galore, and Paul and Roberta became Mr. and Mrs. Glazer. We had long since decided to forego a honeymoon, until we were on a better financial footing. We spent one solid week doing work in our house. Oh, don't for a minute think we didn't do what all newlyweds do their first week of marriage.

We made love in every room of the house. Yes, even in the master bath, standing in the shower. We made it work, with me being almost 6' tall, and Bobbie just about 5'4". When you are in love as much as us, anything is possible.

With another promotion for me, and Bobbie getting even a better bookkeeping job, we finally decided to start our family. It took a little while, but after a month or so of trying, we were finally expecting!

We knew we were having a girl, so we had more than a little time to find a name. After much debate we settled on Lauren Anne. Both grandmothers were blended into our daughter, in a few more months.

By the time Lauren Anne made he debut, we were more than ready. Just over 7 pounds and 19 inches long, and just some light brown peach fuzz where her real hair would be, some day.

Her dark eyes were absolutely beautiful. All she had to do us blink a few times, and I was putty in her hands. If she could talk, all she would have to say is "daddy, I want" and I was ready to give.

The only thing I couldn't do is nurse her, due to lack of proper equipment. I just couldn't take my eyes off my two beautiful girls. Within a few weeks, we finally utilized the breast pump, we were given, so I could experience the thrill of feeding our daughter.

Within the first year of parenthood, I finished our house, with the exception of new appliances. I became a supervisor, with a nice bump in pay, so the new appliances were on the horizon.

As Lauren turned a year old, we started working on a sibling for her. Just over 10 months later, Carol Jean joined our family. Looking so much like Lauren it was scary. We were over the moon, happy.

As Lauren was starting second grade, and Carol kindergarten, we started thinking about starting my own company. Our entire area was booming, and we knew it would take some time, but our planning started to take shape.

The best thing we had going for us was the total support of not only both our families, but the company I've been working for, since I was 15 years old.

In just under two years, Glazer Contracting opened its doors. We actually started doing work for the company I'd been working for, as they were in the midst of a 1,500 home project, that they wanted my help on a 100 home, subdivision. What a way to start. If I could show the industry I was capable of building 100 houses, I thought I was on my way.

With a very eager work crew, and the world's best bookkeeper, keeping me on budget, we did get off to a great start.

As our girls were heading to 6th and 4th grades, the older house next door to us went up for sale. Not as big as ours, and in need of most of the repairs I had done to our house, it was quickly sold.

All we had to do is wait to see who our neighbors would be. Within two months, our questions were answered. Here came a moving truck, and a group of four couples, making up the moving crew.

Not that it mattered to us, but all eight helpers were black. Our girls looked on, saying they hoped the couple moving in had kids. They also weren't bothered by the skin color of any prospective neighbors.

Within about four hours, the truck was emptied, with all the boxes in the rooms that were written on each box. I was fixing something, when Bobbie and the girls walked next door, to greet our new neighbors.

There they met Andrew and Doris Jones, plus Trey and David, around three and a half and almost two. Yes, they were black, and as I said, before, that made no difference to us.

Seeing my family next door, I finished what I was doing and joined them. The new couple seemed a bit younger than us, and were very friendly. When I told them that our house was in that same condition, when we moved in, I let them know I could help them, if they were interested.

We did find out, the next day, when they took a break from unpacking, that they had just celebrated their fifth anniversary, and that Andrew was a welder. Doris was still looking to get back into the work force, now that David was nearing two, and ready for day care. She was a nurses assistant, and knew she had a job waiting for her at one of the up and coming clinics within a few miles from where we lived.

It didn't take long for our families to become friendly. I did help Andrew, not Andy, with several projects, when I had the time, and our girls did enjoy interacting with these two adorable little boys.

With Andrew working for himself, I let him know whenever we had a need for welding jobs, he would be told, in advance. Several times, he did work for us, which was always top notch.

With Doris starting back to work, part time to begin with, our girls volunteered to watch the boys, when needed.

We had barbecues in each others backyards, and enjoyed our friendship.

Fast forward to our most fateful day. Bobbie was driving home, with Andrew, as his car was in the shop. Approaching a very green light, they were broadsided by a driver who never even touched his breaks.

That driver's huge SUV hit my wife's side of our car, killing her, instantly, pushing our car into a third car on Andrew's side, killing him, too. They were less than a mile from home.

I got the call from Tacoma Police, that forever changed two family's lives. My Bobbie was pronounced dead at the scene, and Andrew on the way to Tacoma General.

My girls and I just sat in the ER waiting for her body to be picked up for burial, in less than two days, following Jewish traditions. We had a funeral to get ready for. Just as we were getting ready to leave, Doris and the boys, surrounded by grandparents, looked at us, ran to our sides, sharing our grief.

Without one word being spoken, we consoled each other. As we were leaving, I told Doris when the funeral would be, and we left.

Bobbie's funeral was very well attended, and, yes, the Jones family was there.

Just a week later, the Glazer family attended Andrew's funeral, supporting each other, as neighbors do.

Now, all we had left to do was try putting our respective families back together. Not an easy task.

I just happened to have a friend who is a deputy sheriff, with Pierce County. When he told me what took place during the interrogation of the piece of shit who killed my wife, and my neighbor, I nearly blew a gasket.

POLICE INTERROGATION

Police: Didn't you realize there was a red light, ahead of you?

Accused: What's the big deal? Besides, if a 'Nigger' and a Jew are together, they must be fucking, right?

Police: Would you repeat that in court?

Accused's lawyer: This interview is over!

Together, they ran out of the interview room.

I finally decided to bring this conversation to Doris, as she needed to hear this.

While we each planned our own paths to closure, that racist driver was sentenced to 60 days in jail, lost his driver's license, then walked away from jail just 8 days after incarceration.

Separately, we each filed wrongful death lawsuits against this animal.

At my first meeting with him, in front of a Judge, my lawyer let me speak, first.

Your Honor, I want this man's statement during interrogation read into the record.

Objection!!

Overruled!

Thank you, Your Honor. His statement was read, in its entirety.

"Mr. Parker, did you say that?" His lawyer objected, again.

"Mr. Parker, answer me, or you will be held in contempt and go directly to jail!"

"Yes, I did."

"Do you stand by that statement?"

"No, sir, I don't."

As our pretrial meeting ended, I just stood, staring at this poor excuse of humanity. He looked away, knowing he was in a world of shit, with this court.

Three days later. that statement was read into the record in Doris' lawsuit.

We weren't after money, per se, we just wanted some semblance of justice. Personally, I wanted him to suffer, as our criminal justice system failed both Doris and me.

As each of our suits progressed, slowly, through the court system, we let justice take its course.

Not saying that Karma is a bitch, it gave us some semblance of closure, when George Parker, driving very drunk, crashed into a bridge support, causing paralysis from the chest down. While never wishing any person death, even the trash who caused so many to suffer grief, I did relish the idea that he would never do anyone else any harm.

The next courtroom meeting, his lawyer asked the Judge to dismiss my lawsuit, due to his inquiries. Even before my lawyer and I could voice our objections, His Honor looked at the opposing council, and told him his client's injuries were self inflicted, and the lawsuit was to go on.

With our objective not being monetary, we wanted George to suffer. Aside from the self inflicted pain he caused himself, Doris and I decided to leave both of his ex wives alone, as they had already suffered more than enough just being married to him.

In just over six months after our tragedy, we settled both cases. Even after declaring bankruptcy, we made sure he could never harm another family, ever.

As neighbors, we kept each other going. My girls helped by keeping her boys from dwelling on their loss.

Just before we settled, both of our families attended a Friday night service at our family Synagogue.

Our entire congregation made the Jones family feel very comfortable, which made my girls even happier. With Doris sitting next to me, some of the yentas (busybodies) started to whisper. Jesus, we had both lost our spouses, and had never had any feelings for each other, that weren't just friendship.

Two days later, the Glazer family joined the Jones family, at their African Methodist Episcopal church, and got more than a few stares, from the congregation, who weren't aware of our relationship. Yes, even in that setting, there were whispers of the two of us getting together.

On our way back home, both of my girls told me it was OK to ask Aunt Doris, as they had called her for years, out to dinner. It got me thinking, but not asking. Not yet, it was still too early.

A couple of Saturdays from then, we all had a little picnic in our backyard. The two little boys absolutely loved my girls, and the feeling was mutual. Doris and I were watching the four of them, playing, when she looked me in the eye and asked "when are we going out for dinner?"

To say I was stunned was the understatement of the month.

"You know my parents and inlaws have both asked me that very question, Paul."

"Mine have hinted at that very point, too," I replied.

"Next Saturday it is, then. Your girls already told me they would babysit."

"Hey, don't I have any say in this?"

"Nope," she said with a grin a mile wide.

By the following Saturday, I was a nervous wreck. I hadn't been on a 'date' since I was 17 years old. I had two teenaged daughters. I was white. She was black. Did I mention the 7 or 8 year age difference?

With my girls watching over her boys at her house, we returned to my house, after a delicious dinner.

Stopping just inside the front door, I looked her in the eyes and quietly said, "I'm not sure if I can do this."