On My Arm

"Dinner was wonderful and your knowledge of opera is amazing", Agnes said.

"Thank you. I hope you found me to be an enjoyable companion tonight. If you should ever want to see me again, it would be my pleasure to spend another evening with you. You are a wonderful, interesting woman, Agnes."

"Oh, we'll see Thomas. I still feel a little strange 'paying' for a date. But I have to tell you this is not at all what I expected. I mean, you are not what I expected! Wait, that didn't come out right!"

"Perhaps we can simply say that both of us are pleasantly surprised with how delightful an evening we were able to share?"

Agnes simply smiled. "Thomas you are a very charming young man. Thank you so much. I should be going now."

"Good night, Agnes. May I?". Thomas took Agnes' hand and gave it a gentle kiss before returning it to her.

Thomas waited as she stepped out of the car and walked to her front door, and his lights came on only after she stepped inside. Polite, charming, handsome, considerate. Young. Virile.

What's not to like? Nothing. What's good in life is worth waiting for. And in this case, paying for.

In the past few years since she lost her husband Agnes had come a long way. She never had a drivers license and only last month at 52 years of age took her first driving test. She had never been out of the country in her entire life until last summer when she visited South America and took and excursion to Antarctica.

By comparison, paying for a male escort seemed far riskier. And there it was, she had surprised herself yet again and these surprises were going to continue and intensify, and they were going to become decidedly more frequent. The second stanza of Agnes' life was being written before her very eyes and the clock seemed not only to have slowed but reversed. Maybe being with a younger man for a night didn't make her any younger, but it sure as hell didn't make her feel any older. In what came as a pleasant surprise to her, Agnes felt more youthful in Thomas' presence than she had in 25 years, quite the opposite of what she had anticipated. Rather than abide her presence, Thomas was either or an excellent actor or genuinely enjoyed her company and she proudly chose to believe the latter.

And of that feeling, that pride? It was certainly something she was eager to experience again.

She looked at herself in the oval living room mirror, admiring the gentle lines in her face, the slight sag in the skin around her eyes and chin. "I've earned this face", she whispered to herself. "And after three children and Charles, it's my turn to feel good."

As she slipped off her evening dress and hung it in the closet, Agnes caught a slight whiff of Thomas' cologne. Earlier in the evening he had touched her shoulder as they made their way into the theater, leaving behind its clean, masculine scent. She pulled the dress of its hanger and held it to her face, breathing it in, breathing in the experience of being pampered and having someone's undivided attention. Her tummy fluttered as she closed her eyes thinking of how exciting it was having Thomas with her all night long. She smiled as she recalled their delightful conversation, his warmth and kind nature. With her eyes closed she said quietly, but out loud, "I could get used to this."

Agnes turned down all but the nightstand lights. She lay the dress gently on the bed and slowly peeled off all her remaining clothes, feeling the cool sheets touch her body as she got under the covers. And as she drew the dress again close to her nose with her left hand to inhale the remnants of Thomas' scent, her right hand found her moist patch, her clitoris erect and flush with excitement. For the first time in a very, very long time Agnes brought herself to a crushing climax, whimpering and quivering, relaxing, sleeping.

"Good afternoon. On My Arm, Melanie speaking. How can I be of service to you today?"

"Hello Melanie. It's Agnes Parazzo. How are you?"

"Yes, Mz. Parazzo! And how was your evening with Thomas."

"Please call me Agnes. Thomas and I had a simply wonderful time at the opera."

"I am so delighted to hear that. He called me earlier this morning. He speaks very highly of you and thoroughly enjoyed his time with you at the theater. Thomas is one of our most intellectual and cultured employees and I must say you challenged him with your depth of knowledge! He will be so thrilled that you enjoyed spending time with him."

"You're too kind, Melanie. I'm just an old lady with decades of theater experience."

"Please, Mz. Parazzo. Mature and old are two very different things, if I may be so bold. I mean not at all to correct you but, you must know that when a person such as Thomas comments on someone's culture...well, let's just say he's not one to be loose with compliments!"

"Yes, he truly is a wonderful man, Melanie. I was wondering if his schedule is open this weekend. Friday or Saturday?"

"Let me check. Thomas is...not available this Friday but he is available Saturday. Should I make dinner reservations for the two of you?"

"That would be terrific.

"Perfect! Thomas will arrive at 6:00 on Saturday."

After an enchanting meal at a tiny Italian restaurant, Thomas dropped Agnes at her home at 10:45.

Agnes took off her coat and began to look for her cell phone to see if she had a message from her daughter who was due to fly in the next morning. As she felt around her empty coat pocket she immediately remembered leaving it in Thomas' Jaguar which had already pulled away. Embarrassment quickly progressed into opportunity, knowing now she had a perfect excuse to ask him to return. Having been married for so long, even with her pent up desires, Agnes found it impossible to invite Thomas in even though he had made it abundantly clear he would have been receptive to her invitation.

She shook her head, dashing those thoughts and focusing on what needed to be done, which was returning her cell phone. As she reached for her home phone it rang, and the phone number of the caller was of course her cell phone.

'Hello, Thomas. I feel so foolish', Agnes said, laughing.

"Agnes, the fault is all mine. It was right on the passenger's seat. I should have noticed it."

"Oh, but how could have noticed it, Thomas? You opened the car door for me and walked me to my front door. Thomas, I hate to ask you to return it now but my daughter is flying in from Chicago tomorrow morning. Can I meet you to..."

"Oh, please, Agnes. It is no trouble at all. I'll be on my way over in a few minutes, if that is OK with you. It would be my pleasure to return it since I so carelessly failed to notice it was in my car."

"You are a peach, Thomas!"

"I do have one small favour to ask, Agnes"

A favour? What does he want? What kind of favour do men want at this late hour? Her stomach sank. "Yes, of course, Thomas. What is it?"

"Would you allow me the pleasure of continuing our conversation about your trip to South America? I don't mean to be so forward but I've never been, and your experiences were so interesting. I really would like you to share more with me. It's only 11:00. Not your bed time yet is it?"

"No, Thomas. It's not time for bed quite yet."

Agnes quickly freshened up in her powder room hardly believing what was happening and then anxiously awaited Thomas' arrival. She had just invited her male escort back to her home at 11:30, she was still a bit buzzed from the wine at dinner and wickedly imagining randy exchanges with her new friend. Agnes knew that if he came into the house she would have difficulty resisting him if he wanted to seduce her. Difficulty? Resisting? Laughable! She would welcome his advances if he made them! He was charming, intelligent, witty, caring, and attractive. Indeed, Thomas was going to get anything he wanted from Agnes if only he asked, and it was the asking that she collectively anticipated and feared but hardly expected. It had been her husband that was the last man to sweep her off her feet and ravage her, a hotly passionate exchanged they enjoyed reliving for all their years of marriage. From their first intimate encounter they were devoted and faithful to each other, never so much as tendering the thought of straying from their commitment. It gave both of them a quiet comfort and satisfaction that they had so perfectly loved and cherished each other for so long. Losing Charles was by far the most difficult thing Agnes had ever endured and, like many couples, they made a pact that if one lost their life the other would try to move on eventually for their own good and the good of the children. But in his waning days Agnes had promised it only to comfort Charles, to calm his restless spirit that he was leaving his wife all alone. "Yes", she had promised. "Yes, Charles, I will eventually try to move on, my love. No one will ever replace you, but now it is clear that you will be leaving this world and until I join you, you want me to live my life. All I can say is that I will try." It was the first and only lie she had ever told him.

This simple statement seemed to allow him to soften, to relax, to let go and to die in peace. True love, true selfless love that others envy died that day. True love that few find and fewer still are able to enjoy for so long.

The headlights of Thomas' car stabbed the darkness of Agnes' living room, washing it with a pebbled brilliance of hope and uncertainty. Could this be the night, Agnes thought, where I am intimate with a man for the first time in years? "I hope so", she said out loud with a wry smile, sipping a glass of wine she'd poured for herself.

Thomas breezed into her home like he'd done it a thousand times, comfortably milling around, quickly opening one of the bottles of wine he'd brought. Agnes happily watched as he made himself at home like an old friend and poured both of them a glass of deep red wine. "I bought this after my last trip to Napa", Thomas said with a broad smile. "I loved it so much I bought two cases and still have a few bottles left. I hope you enjoy it Agnes. I think you'll find it similar to what you had at dinner, but with a few surprising flavors."

Agnes took a sip and let it bubble over her tongue. "Delicious", she said quietly, "and I love the blueberries and clove. Subtle but there's no mistaking their distinctive taste. It's wonderful, Thomas. Thank you."

"Great, then! So do you mind if we sit down and you can tell me some more about your trip. Antarctica is a place few people have the opportunity to visit and I've wanted to visit. It seems such a raw, unspoiled land."

The conversation turned and before long both bottles were empty. It was impossible to tell who who made the first invitation or hint, only that it happened, and the advance was welcome. Agnes only knew that even in her slightly intoxicated state she was thinking with crystal clarity, her arid mouth tight with anticipation and desire.

Agnes was pleasantly surprised at how quickly and how well her body responded to intimacy. Moments before the ribaldry had begun in earnest she felt dampness, then wetness where it was soon to be needed most. Thomas' oral ministrations were welcome but hardly necessary to ready her body for what she had missed for so long. After she had enjoyed his talented tongue treat for several wonderful minutes she had relaxed on the bed and invited him to make love to her. Charles and Agnes had enjoyed a comfortable, predictable cadence over their many years of marriage. He would please her with the tip of his tongue, giving her a sweet release, then enter her for his own. Sometimes she would climax again but usually she would be coming down as he peaked and splashed down deep inside her.

Thomas' proportions were remarkably similar to Charles and as he kissed her neck and gently plunged into her, she closed her eyes and imagined her dearest on top of her again, holding her, loving her. She laughed to herself, thinking that so many people imagine having a movie star, and all she really thought of was her one true love.

When she opened her eyes again there was no mistaking the man above her, inside her, around her was someone quite different. Thomas was gentle but was encouraging Agnes to explore the bed with him, moving her legs in different ways than Charles ever did, diving down again to taste her salt, entering her again and massaging her back while she was on her tummy. In an hour she had been moved into more positions than she'd been in nearly a quarter century. It was an enjoyable experience but hardly the best of her life. Still, that belonged to Charles. Love is an irreplaceable ingredient in the experience of intimacy, and while Thomas was without question a seasoned lover, she kept reminding herself that he was a paid employee and nothing more. This emotional distance afforded her a certain quid pro quo that would have been not only absurd but patently inappropriate with one's husband. She had no problem rubbing Thomas head, gently encouraging him to engage his oral talents. And that night Agnes got every penny's worth of his effort.

A kiss on the cheek as he departed was Agnes' final contact with Thomas that night.

"Thomas", she called quietly as he walked toward his car, "if you'd like to see me again..."

"Count on it Agnes. Until then."

Agnes went upstairs and on the way caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Maybe it was the lighting, or maybe it was the color she was wearing or maybe it was the wine but there was no mistaking that she looked ten years younger. The glow of a sated woman radiated from her face, her arms, her legs and a few other places.

"I could definitely get used to this", she said with a laugh as she turned down the last remaining flicker of light.