Of Hope Lost and Found Ch. 06

I let my passion carry me back to his arms and did what I had been longing to do for some time. I sat on his lap and allowed myself to feel small and vulnerable. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me tight as our tongues and lips danced with each other. I put my hand on the back of his head, forbidding him to pull away. I didn't need to worry. He pressed forward, almost violently, kissing me until we both had to stop to breathe. His hands rested on my back and hip, mine on his neck and shoulder. We were almost in position to waltz, except we were seated- me on him and him on the couch.

"Now," he said, calmly, "are there any more deal breakers?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "And I think you've managed to clear away the red flags, too."

Tom smiled and pulled me in for a hug. I felt in him the safety and care of Daddy, the fire of James and the wisdom and goodness of Glen. But he was uniquely Tom, and I saw in him many things that the other men in my life hadn't possessed. Yes, he had indeed cleared away my red flags.

*******

We talked. Often. Over the next 3 weeks, we talked so much that it started to feel like negotiations. We had to start to meet in public places, though, because the couch in my office started to feel too tempting. After our first week, we had to let the staff know, lest rumors start to circulate.

Gina tracked with us- getting the condensed version of our conversations and helping me to process things. She didn't quite understand or agree with my "no sex outside of marriage" stance, but was willing to accept that I wasn't bending on it.

"So what are you waiting for?" she asked me one evening as we locked up.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...what's keeping you two from getting married right now? Obviously, you're both down with the idea. You don't need or seem to want some long, protracted romance or courtship. What are you waiting for?"

I opened my mouth to answer, then stopped in confusion. "I...have no idea."

Gina just laughed and said, "I think I know what your next conversation needs to be about."

*******

I didn't get the chance to bring it up. Late the next morning, I got a call from Tom. I was in my office and wondered why he didn't just stop by to talk.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry," he said frantically as soon as I answered.

"What are you..."

"I had no idea. I mean...I knew that sooner or later, but she totally surprised me, and..."

Just then there was a light knock on my office door. I looked up to see an older, brown-skinned woman with gray hair and large glasses. Tom's voice continued on the phone, but I didn't even hear what he said. She said, "Hello, my name is Regina, and I understand I need to speak to you about my son."

I put the phone back up to my ear and said, "I'll have to call you back later, I have a visitor."

"Good luck!" I heard as I hung up the phone.

I rose and walked to the door. "Please, come in," I said, indicating the couch and wincing at the thought of making out with her son on that same couch.

"Actually, it might be best for us to go out," she said. She clutched her purse with both hands and looked up at me. I was surprised that Tom would have a mother who was barely 5 feet tall.

"Of course, let me grab my bag," I said. I led us down the block to a simple restaurant that I knew didn't do much business during lunch. Regina was silent during our walk, and I tried to fill the silence by pointing out some of the local sites of interest. It was awkward.

Once we were seated and had ordered our lunches, she began. "Obviously, you understand that we're a little concerned. The way Thomas is talking about you...and talking about a future together...it's a little surprising. We trust his judgment, we really do. And he's certainly a grown man. But can you please indulge an old woman and help put a worrying mother's heart at ease?" Her voice was a little shaky- she was at about 15 years older than me- but her mind and her gaze were sharp and unyielding.

"Of course," I said, "anything."

"We've heard a lot about you, but I'd like to hear it from you. Can you just tell me your story?"

I felt like I was being tested. How much had Tom told her? In such cases, I default to total honesty. I told her briefly about Jimmy and about my incarceration. I told her about Glen and my teaching career. I told her about the growth of Hope's Advocate and about how my relationship with Thomas began. She listened silently, and our food arrived just as I finished.

She asked if she could pray over our food, which surprised me. I suddenly felt a little embarrassed that I had always assumed Thomas' family was Hindu. I wisely held my tongue, learning later that they came from an area of southern India that had been Christianized for over a thousand years. Tom had been named after the Apostle to whom they traced their religious heritage.

After we had a chance to eat a little, she said, "Now please tell me what you know about my son." That was a difficult question. I told her the facts that I knew- his educational and professional history, his interests, influential moments from his past. I told her about his character, highlighting the many qualities I admired.

"And his future plans?" she prodded. I recounted to her the gist of our conversation about his hopes and plans for the future. She seemed satisfied with my answers, and the tone of our conversation softened. We talked about Canada and her family in India. She told me some stories about her son, including a few embarrassing ones I would need to remember for later. As we prepared to leave the restaurant, she said, "I'm sure it's no surprise to you that Thomas is speaking of marriage. Please understand that, especially in his case, we want to be very cautious about that, especially since we had never met you."

"I understand. And I hope you see that this isn't something he's being tricked or pressured into. It's taken me almost by surprise."

"Oh, I imagine it has, dear. And that it will continue to surprise you, I have no doubt. A woman your age doesn't often expect such things...but is probably better able to appreciate them. Now, one last thing. Could you please give me a tour of your shelter? I would like to understand what you do. And bring Gina, too, if she's available."

I did as she asked, and Gina was just as surprised as I was by our visitor. We toured the facility, and Regina seemed very interested in it. She asked good questions and even slipped away from us for a minute to go talk to one of the women in the lounge area of the living quarters. She came back teary-eyed and asked us to take her to the clinic for our last stop.

We toured the clinic, and both Kara and Denise were effusive in their praise of Thomas, who was with a patient at the time. He emerged a few minutes later and walked nervously over to our group. Regina put her hand on his arm and said to me, "I wouldn't dream of taking this young man away from his work this afternoon. Is there some place I can go to help out while I wait for him?"

We tried to steer her towards a place to relax after her flight, but Regina insisted on doing something. "Don't underestimate these old hands," she said, holding them up. Gina saved me by offering to take Regina to the volunteer station and help her find some work for the afternoon. Once they were out of sight and the nurses were attending patients, Tom pulled me into his arms and squeezed me.

"I think you did well," he said. "She wouldn't still be here otherwise."

I looked up at him and asked, "You really didn't know she was coming?"

"She showed up in the clinic 3 minutes before I called you. I think she figured she'd get a jump on us and not let us prepare for an interrogation."

"You owe me, big guy," I said.

"All I have is yours," he said with a smile.

*******

Regina asked to have Thomas to herself that evening. They had a lot to talk about, and they had his father on the phone for most of the discussion. She flew out the next morning, and Thomas and I met for breakfast. I asked how the night went.

"I can tell you all about it another time," he said. "But in brief...it was good. Mom likes you, Dad trusts her, and we talked through some of the details that would be involved in getting married."

"And I didn't need to be in on that conversation?" I teased.

"Not that side of it. But...well...Dottie, how do you want this to go? I mean, do you want the whole fancy proposal and rose petals and music and surprises?"

"Oh, goodness no, Tom. That's not my style at all. Besides, I feel like we're engaged already."

"Good. Me too. Then, as for a wedding..."

"Nothing fancy. It would probably be hurtful to our friends here if we didn't have a little something, and I don't know what your family wants..."

"We talked about that. If we could go up there for a big party with my family and their friends, that would be good. But we could do that, I think, as a...honeymoon?"

I laughed, trying not to spit out my English muffin. To think of me, at this age, going on a honeymoon! Once I composed myself, I said, "Well then, how about a simple little ceremony here, then off to the Great White North?"

"How long would it take to plan something like that?" Tom asked. "Because, to be honest, I don't want to prolong this. I...I really want to be with you, Dottie."

"We could probably pull it off in less than a month. And since we're being honest- at my age, you don't want to have to wait any longer than necessary for things!"

*******

Three weeks. It took us three weeks to get everything together. During that time, we consolidated our living quarters, having Tom move his things into my house- the same place Glen and I had lived in for most of our life together. We made arrangements to have a few doctors volunteer time to keep the clinic open 3 days a week for the two weeks Tom and I would be gone. Gina effectively took over my responsibilities for a month (which is what I'd been training her for, anyway), and we were all set.

Tom's parents and a few close friends came to the wedding. There were only about 40-50 people present, mostly our staff and their families. Glen's successor at the church, Pastor Don, officiated. Macy catered another exquisite feast, and I felt silly the whole time. It seemed like we were play-acting. But then I would look up at my husband-to-be and it all felt so real and right.

Was I really getting married? Was I really marrying this younger, handsome, doctor? Was I really going to be having sex again tonight, after 16 years of celibacy? Our physical relationship had been heating up, but we still hadn't done much more than kiss and pet. We would spend the next night in my (soon to be our) house, flying up to Canada the next afternoon. That bed would see some action tonight!

We had planned a late-morning wedding, giving us time to have a reception and not feel hurried to get home before we were too tired to enjoy our wedding night. The reception was fun, including a good amount of jokes at Tom and my expense. The age difference and the racial difference were both sources of some good-natured ribbing. We left mid-afternoon, eyes sparkling and hearts thumping.

As Tom drove us to the house, he asked, "Are you nervous?"

"It's been 16 years, dear. I'm excited and nervous."

"It's been almost that long for me, too," he said softly. We had never talked much about his sexual history- just that he had one serious girlfriend in college but had been very devoted to his work since then.

When we got to the front door, Thomas surprised me by sweeping me up into his arms and carrying me into the house. I whooped in surprise and gripped his neck. He pulled the door shut behind us, locked it and carried me straight up the stairs into the bedroom.

"This way I know you won't change your mind and run off," he said jokingly as he put me on the bed.

"Not a chance, lover-boy," I said, eagerly shifting my legs around. "I may be nervous, but I'm also eager."

"You don't know how good it is to hear that," he said, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Let me," I said, kneeling on the bed and reaching up to his buttons. Tom rubbed his fingers through my hair as I unbuttoned his shirt. I pulled it off him and lifted up his undershirt. His chest was lean and muscular with sparse, dark hair. I put my hands flat against it and moved down to his abs, which were tight and toned.

"I never thought I would have this pleasure again," I mumbled to myself. Tom just sighed loudly, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. I looked up at his face and saw his eyes were closed, his head leaning back. Not wanting to interrupt his peaceful moment, I continued undressing him, pulling open his belt and letting his pants fall to the floor. I could see through his boxer briefs that he was endowed proportionate to his height, and that he was as eager as I was.

Tom stepped out of his pants and slowly reached around to the back of my dress. It was a very simple wedding gown- nothing fancy for my third marriage. He pulled on the small bow between my shoulder blades, then kept pulling as the ribbon unlaced along my back. Once the whole ribbon had been removed, it only took a small shrug of my shoulders for the dress to fall to the bed. Tom slid his hands down to mine, then stepped back, holding my arms out as he admired my body.

To my great surprise, I blushed. Here I was, a blushing bride on her wedding night. Tom had somehow made me feel young and innocent again, and his smile grew as his gaze moved up and down. "Beautiful," he said. I rolled my eyes, unable to contain my natural cynicism.

"Of course you would say that," I said, "you just married me. But you don't need to exaggerate for my sake. I'm a well-preserved older woman, but I'm still an older woman."

"Dottie, we're going to have a difficult time of things if you can't trust me. When I say beautiful, I mean beautiful. You are a delight to my eyes."

I started to respond but then thought better of it. If my new husband believed I was beautiful, then let him go on believing it. I had nothing to gain by divesting him of that illusion. But speaking of divesting...

"I don't know about you, Romeo, but I've had about enough waiting. My long-neglected lady parts are telling me they're ready for some action." I moved backwards, getting out of the pile of cloth that had been my dress, and lay down on the bed. Tom sat down on the edge of the bed and slipped off his socks. He then turned his attention to my panties. Taking them gently by the waistband, he slowly pulled down. My breathing quickened as I lifted my bottom off the bed, allowing him to pull the thin garment past my hips, exposing me fully. He slid them off my feet and tossed them onto the floor.

"We won't be needing those for the rest of the day and night," he said lightly.

"Oh really?" I asked.

"I'll make sure of it," he said, moving his hands to my sides. Reaching behind me, he unclasped my bra and lifted it off, tossing it over next to my panties. "I feel like a kid at Christmas, opening his presents," he said quietly, staring at my hardened nipples.

"Just so long as you don't act like a kid at Christmas and only play with the wrapping paper," I joked. That seemed to snap him out of his trance and he looked up at my face with an eager grin.

"Not a chance!" he shouted, pouncing over me. I instinctively put my hands and knees up to keep from being crushed, but Tom wasn't landing on me. He was crouched over me, his face an inch from mine. Our eyes met, and I allowed myself to get lost in that deep look. Just as my body relaxed, he leaned down and kissed me. Our kiss worked up steam and I pulled away just enough to mumble, "We don't need to stop this time."

"Or ever again," he added, moving one hand across my chest as he resumed our kiss.

"Can't wait any more," I said into his mouth, and grabbed the waistband of his underpants. I started pushing them down, but was limited by how far my arms could reach. Tom rolled onto his back and deftly slipped them off.

"Lady's choice," he said, looking over as he lay next to me. "How do you want our first time?" I thought about it for a few seconds while his hand ran along my breasts and shoulders. I thought back to my other first times and decided to continue the pattern. "Climb aboard, lover. I'm ready," I said playfully, opening my arms and spreading my legs.

"I can already tell you're going to be a fun lover," he said, positioning himself over me. He both took part in lining his shaft up with my entrance, which was better lubricated than it usually was.

"At this point in life, I just can't take sex, or even myself, too seriously," I said as his tip nestled into my entrance.

He paused and put a hand on my cheek. I looked up at him and he said, "That, Dottie, is a part of your irresistible charm."

I smiled, trying to learn to take accept his praise, which seemed never-ending. My smile quickly became a wide-eyed gasp as he began to push in. I didn't know if it was because he was the largest of my three husbands or if my passage was tight from years of disuse, but the sense of fullness pressing into me took my breath away. He pushed halfway in, then paused. I started breathing again and smiled.

"Don't stop now," I chided him, "I can take it!"

"It's not you I'm worried about right now," he said, slightly strained. His eyes were shut and he was breathing quickly. I gently rubbed his chest and arms as he tried to slow his breathing. "Fifteen years is a long time. I'm a bit overwhelmed by the sensations," he said. "You feel perfect. Better than I imagined."

"Are you still young enough to go more than once in a night?" I asked.

"With sufficient motivation, yes. And you, Dottie, are very sufficient motivation."

"Then just do what you need to and I'll catch up on round two. Don't torture yourself over some illusion that we both have to cum every time."

Tom opened his eyes and laughed at that, his arms shaking as they supported his body. "Listen to you, girl! A fun lover and the pragmatic manager." With that, he lowered himself, supporting his weight on his elbows and he wrapped his forearms under me. Pulling back a bit, he pushed the rest of the way into me, eliciting a groan as he stretched out my tunnel.

"OK," I grunted, "Now you should wait."

"Are you OK?" he whispered.

"Yeah, just...full. Gimme a minute to adjust." I squeezed his tool, using muscles I had forgotten I had. I moved my legs around a little, trying to relieve some of that delicious pressure. Taking my leg movement as a sign to go ahead, Tom began pulling back. When he thrust back in, I moaned softly. As he started a rhythm over me, I moaned and gasped with each slow thrust. I don't know how he stayed at such a slow pace, knowing how on edge he was. Once he was moving smoothly in and out, he found my lips again, and we kissed for the first time as lovers.

That kiss seemed to be all he needed to push him over the edge. He moved his head to the side, resting it on the pillow, and gave three or four hard pushes into me. I spread my fingers over his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles going taut as he reached his peak. His muffled voice next to me started to cry out.

Baby...Oh God...Oh God...baby! Yes!! AAAUUUUGHH!

As he came, he pushed even deeper, painfully reaching untouched depths inside me. I winced at first, then felt the soothing throb of his release bathing me. After three pulses, he pulled halfway back and pushed in again. I held on to his strong body, knowing that the best thing I could do for him in that moment was to let him use my body for whatever pleasure he could get out of it.