Missing Marjorie

For the first time in my life, I wanted Robbie to want me.

Robbie and I had grown up together, having befriended one another in the sixth grade. Now we were both in our mid- thirties. Now we were both reflective and fearful of youth passing away, facing that demon over the next hill referred to by some as age forty.

I was going through a divorce. Robbie's wife was two weeks removed from his life. My four-year-old son Kyle was with his father on this weekend. I kept Lauren with me. She was still only three months old and breast-feeding. Keith agreed that she was too young for travel and visitation just yet. I wanted to think him understanding, but in reality, his live-in girlfriend cared nothing for dirty diapers.

I wanted to hate her for that, but when I was nineteen, I didn't care for changing diapers either.

For now, these blues failed to invade my world. It was spring, my favorite time of the year. I looked at the blooms as Robbie pushed Lauren's carriage. We walked arm in arm, traversing the renovated sidewalks of our hometown. My heart melted when he paused to put Lauren's pacifier back into her mouth.

He was- if such exists- the prefect man. Whether such exists or no, Robbie was my best friend and I loved him.

This I knew, as I noticed a hint of a belly on his once perfect body. To hell with it, I thought; he was still perfect. He was six-two with black hair and green eyes. He still had most of the attributes that had made him so popular in high school.

"Do you remember when we were in seventh grade?" I asked him as we continued our walk.

"I barely remember yesterday. Could you be more specific?"

"I told you about starting my period. Remember?"

He laughed. "I remember."

I laughed too. "Do you remember what you said to me?"

"Do we have to discuss this?"

"You hugged me in my parent's basement. You told me not to worry, reassuring me of the fact that everyone has certain periods."

"Okay, so I didn't know what the hell you were talking about."

"You were so cute. You still are."

"Don't flirt with me, Susan," he said. "Flirting leads to sex and you have this way of getting pregnant. I have enough on me right now."

I playfully jerked his arm. "You should be so lucky", I said.

I would be lying if I told anyone that, over the years, I never wanted to sleep with Robbie. In the absence of scientific proof, I knew that he shared the sentiment. However, I owed it to myself to maintain reality. My once hard body had borne two children. My cheerleader thighs were flabby now, as was my belly. My hips seemed to have widened, and my ass bore stretch marks. My once perfect 36-C breasts were now milky giants, contained in a padded nursing bra.

"Do you think we might sleep together?" I asked him, warming the tepid air of the late afternoon.

He rolled his eyes, stopping the baby carriage again. "Cromer's Books", he mumbled.

Suddenly, I saw a haunted look in his eyes. He moved to the huge glass.

"My parents", he continued. "They were buying books here when I was born."

"Let's go in and look around."

"No."

"They've renovated recently."

"I know. They sell CD's and serve coffee now. They took over the adjacent space that used to be...well, it was a clothing store."

"Are you okay?" I asked softly.

"My parents are both dead. My mom passed last year."

"I know", I said, moving to him.

"Everything changes. Why does everything have to change?"

I sensed his sadness. I stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Not everything changes."

Through the window, Robbie stared at a hardback book titled "Dreams and Lighter Times".

"What is it Robbie? I know that Mary left you for another man; but there is more. Talk to me."

Lauren stirred. The pacifier was out again. It was getting late.

Robbie had yet to answer my question; yet I was struck through with his handling of Lauren. My best friend and my baby both acted as though he was Daddy. I saw this in the way he pushed the carriage with pride. I saw it in the way my baby awakened at the car to grin at him before he placed her into the car seat. I saw it in his eyes as he looked at my girl.

We were back to my house shortly before seven that evening. Robbie said he was not hungry, so I drank green tea while I watched him play with Lauren. He changed her diaper. By the nightlight, he sat on the floor as I fed her. He talked of his days in the Marine Corps. He lamented the fact that he had been a failure at everything as Lauren took my milk.

"If I had it to do over again", he said, "I would be an intellectual, like you."

I laughed. "Robbie, teaching English Lit at a community college hardly makes one an intellectual. Besides, you calling yourself a failure...that is not true and you know it."

His silent stoicism drowned out the sucking sound of my baby at my breast.

"Do you consider yourself a failure because Mary left you?"

"To thine own self be true", he whispered.

Several minutes later, I watched his smile as I put the cloth over his shoulder. He burped Lauren like a pro before placing her into the crib.

"I will not ask why you and Mary never had children", I whispered. "I will just tell you that it is her loss."

I was in the bathroom no longer than ten minutes. When I came out, Robbie was near the foyer. He had put his jacket on.

"Where are you going?"

"Home, Susan."

"Why? Are you mad at me for some reason?"

He laughed. "I hate you right now. If I stay, I will tell you the truth."

I moved closer. "To my knowledge, you have never lied to me."

"That is why I have to go. If I stay-"

"John Wilkes Booth was innocent. You shot Lincoln and let him take the fall. Secretly, you caused Katrina. You could tell me anything, and you would still be my friend. I will love you no matter what, Robbie."

A tear glistened down his face then.

"Is this all about Mary leaving?"

He shook his head with a smile and another tear.

"Your respect...it's about all I have left that's worth a damn. I don't want to lose it."

"Please talk to me."

I watched Robbie throw his jacket onto the sofa before sitting in the antique chair. It was bit chilly for my nightshirt, so I placed it over my legs as I sat on the couch. His head went to his hands.

"Robbie..."

"Last weekend was my first without Mary in ten years. I went out. I didn't want to kill myself; but I damn well wanted to die."

"I know. Go on."

He looked up then. "Do you remember that club called the Boardwalk?"

I smiled. "The club where you used to pick up all the hot women? I remember it. We had some good times there."

"I met Marjorie there last weekend."

"Tell me about Marjorie."

"She was tall", he said. "Her hair was blonde and long. Her waist was small. Her tits were perfect. She was perfect."

I tried to forget the fact that I was short, that my hair was dark-brown, that I was flabby, and that my tits were far removed from perfect.

"I danced with her. I kissed her and fondled her on the dance floor. I brought her home with me. On the way, we talked while I rubbed her thighs. Her legs were firm, smooth, and perfect.

"It seemed like we had everything in common. We talked and kissed. Finally, I peeled the top of her dress down."

He laughed.

"If Mary's tits had been that perfect", he continued. "I would have killed myself when she left. I needed to either live or die. I could not stand being trapped in the hell of in-between. But I found out something that- God knows- should have made me stop."

"She was married?"

"I wish it was that simple."

"What? Tell me."

"Her cock was long and thin and...yes, it was beautiful."

"Her cock?"

"We were both sweaty and breathing hard. She wound up on the kitchen table. She was the most beautiful won I have ever seen in every way, except for the cock."

"You fucked her?"

"I started out thinking of nothing aside from myself. I had been thinking of my vulnerability. As I entered her ass....I wish you could have seen her. She was overcome with passion and shame."

"Shame?"

Robbie wiped his eyes quickly before another teardrop fell.

"She sensed my judgment", he continued. "She wanted me to want her for exactly who and what she was. In that moment, I swear, I loved her as much as I hated myself."

I became aroused as I listened to his story. He had so much love to give. He needed to give it somewhere. Through a wall of transparent shame, he told me how good Marjorie's ass felt. He thought of killing himself now, because he even found her cock beautiful. It was long and slender. Her hands had been behind her head on the table; yet she came before Robbie. Her cum oozed at first, then he watched as it flicked in thick jets onto her breasts and her belly. She came too soon. She was embarrassed.

Robbie said that he came harder than he ever had. He said that, when it was over, still inside her. She looked up at him with a smile and more love than he had ever seen. He talked of their eyes being locked and her gentle moan as he removed himself from her wet ass.

He held her through the night and kissed her the next morning. He watched as she put her hair into a ponytail before driving her to someone else's house.

For the second time in seven days, Robbie had said goodbye.

His retelling of the story had caused an erection that was obvious and hungry beneath his khaki pants. I moved to my knees, approaching the wet spots. He leaned back as I rubbed his hard cock.

I listened closely to his face and his closed eyes. He wanted to go no further, afraid that I too would leave.

"You would not let me cook dinner for you", I said. "You must be hungry."

Without a word, he breathed heavily.

I removed my nightshirt first, then my bra. My breasts were leaking. I moved to his lap. I struggled to think of something, anything other than the fact that I was nursing my best friend Robbie. My panties became soaked as he writhed his hard cock against the cotton-blue imprint of my vagina.

His shirt was sopping with my milk as he lifted me into his arms. Everything was silently perfect as he laid me on the bed. Once he was naked, he lay on top of me. I felt his penis slip into me, slowly, desperately, lovingly.

"I love you Robbie", I said before thinking.

"I love you, Susan."

"I will cook for you anytime", I said.

"I love you."

"You can see Lauren any time you want."

He was fucking me harder now.

"We can go for walks."

"I love you Susan."

"We can do anything you want to do."

I ran my fingers through his hair as I felt his cock pushing against the upper walls of my vagina, exploring my pelvis like a curious dolphin.

I waited for his orgasm. I waited for Robbie's cum to be in me.

"Tell me more about Marjorie", I whispered.

In the next instant, I felt his cum jet to the limits of the back of me. I felt a bit of pain as he thrust upward.

My best friend had fucked me. I had let my best friend fuck me, I realized, as he breathed hard and heavy on my shoulder. His weight was pleasant on my milky breasts. It was pleasant on my less than perfect body.

I told Robbie that night that I was here for him as long as he needed me. He seems to need me more frequently now. Our sex is more like holding...more like an expression of friendship and love than it is fantasy sex.

Yet, we share the same fantasy- that someday he will again find his Marjorie. He will again make love to her, watching as the cum squirts to her breasts.

If he does not, he knows that my ass is here.