Remembering the Bicycle

"I need a shower after that. Care to join me?"

"Desperately, but I just had one and I need to go to the office. I have a lot of catching up to do." I kept my back to her as I fiddled with clothes in my bureau. I didn't want her to see that I was getting hard again. If I was to join her in the shower there was no way I'd be able to resist entering her, and if I entered her there's no way I'd be able to resist wanting to keep her for myself. I pulled on fresh underpants.

Janet came up behind me, squeezed herself against my back and grabbed my cock. "I want this in me." I continued getting dressed, then went to the kitchen, grabbing as fast a breakfast as I could muster. I heard her start down the stairs, gulped the rest of my coffee and put my dishes in the sink. I kissed her on the forehead, squeezed her bum, then escaped out the front door.

I managed to get a lot done at the office. It was mostly empty on weekends, and there were few distractions. My biggest problem was that my chair was very uncomfortable. I couldn't stop fidgeting or adjusting my pants.

Janet texted me that she was going out with Lester, Leslie and Candace. I declined her invitation to join them. I went to Hooters for supper, but the Sunday evening crowd was a bit much for me. The waitresses were gorgeous, but not enough to distract me. I strolled aimlessly until I was sure Janet had left, then I went home, watched TV, and went to sleep. I eventually heard Janet open my door and peek in, then close it from the outside. I was pleased, but at the same time disappointed with her choice not to climb into bed with me.

Monday

I left the house before Janet got up the next morning. Late in the afternoon Andrea called to advise me that Millie would sign the divorce document if I agreed to change the payout to one hundred forty thousand dollars. She would also sign anything Andrea needed to get an expedited judgement from the courts. I was not inclined to argue, given that I had sold the condo for four hundred thousand. I told Andrea to go for it, provided Millie signed no later than Tuesday at five.

"Phil, I want to know if five o'clock tomorrow will be too late."

"What do you mean? Too late for what?"

"Too late to make you my lover. I know Janet has fallen for you; I can hear it in her voice. If she's already yours I won't interfere, though I don't approve. She needs someone closer to her age."

"You mean like Eric?" Andrea had already made clear her opinion of Janet's old boyfriend. I was digging for the right response.

"God, no. He liked Janet as a trophy. Having a gorgeous woman on his arm was proof of his manhood. He had no real personal interest in her."

"I see. So..."

"Is your son seeing anyone?"

I am such a liar. "I don't know. Are you suggesting Benjamin and Janet getting together?"

"They'd be a cute couple. He's quite handsome and seems fairly intelligent."

"He's pretty much a genius. Awkward with women, though. Janet's no slouch in looks or brains." Andrea didn't respond. "Neither are you," I added. "We would be a cute couple if we got together."

"We would. We can work on it once you've both signed the divorce document. I'll let you know when I've got her signature."

Tuesday

Janet was back at work, biking in the opposite direction now that she was on days. We had settled into a routine at home, which, except for showering together was typical for roommates. We relieved each other's tension from time to time, but we classified those acts as friendship, rather than sex. I'm such a liar, even when talking to myself.

At mid-day I got a text from Andrea: Millie signed. Andrea would receive a hard copy the next day, and we should get together Wednesday evening "to sign and celebrate." I went to the bank and certified a check to Millie. To sign, celebrate and mourn, I thought.

Janet was supposed to go out for dinner and a movie but got home early, around nine. I was on the couch, watching a history of monster truck competition. It was a subject I had no interest in.

She sat down beside me. "You miss her?"

"Yes... no, not really."

"Carl says she's a spacey broad."

" We had a life together. I'm moping."

"Mom told me you'd probably be feeling down. She asked me to skip the movie to make sure you're okay." She put an arm around me. "You okay?"

"You didn't have to do that. You should be with people your own age."

"You didn't have to stop when I fell. You didn't have to look after me afterwards. I want to look after you." She moved closer to me and put a hand on my thigh.

"I'm okay, really."

"Well, let me cheer you up." She slid her hand over my crotch and squeezed lightly.

She didn't get the expected physical response. "Wow, you really are moping."

"I'm just not in the mood."

Janet is very determined young lady and wouldn't accept a "no" from my penis. She opened my pants and put her mouth to the task, not stopping till she got me up, not stopping till she swallowed every drop. "Wait here," she said, running upstairs. She returned two minutes later, stark naked and holding a condom in her hand.

"No!" I said.

"I need this. It's my fertile time of month."

"No, I mean I can't enter you."

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid I'll never want to leave."

"What if I don't want you to?"

"Janet, I love you too much to do that to you."

"If you love me, fuck me."

This was more than I could deal with. I started to cry. At first it was a little sniffle. Then it was a sob. Soon I was bawling, my body shaking. Janet wrapped her arm around me, resting my head against her breast. I didn't know if I was crying for the marriage I no longer had, or this beautiful woman whom I refused to have. I didn't know how long it was till she led me upstairs to her bed.

We lay in a loose embrace, as roommates I thought. I don't know whether it was minutes or hours when I felt her hand on my penis, when my penis responded to her hand, when she rolled the condom onto me. When she pushed me onto my back and sat on top of me, pulling my hands to her breasts, my organ reveling in the hot, liquid firmness of her pussy. It was deep into the night when she collapsed on to the mattress and we resumed our loose embrace.

Wednesday

In the morning she advised her mom that given my mood, a celebration wouldn't be appropriate. We instead arranged that I would go to Andrea's office after work and sign the document there. I spent the hour-long drive over working on my self-pity, concocting bizarre schemes for revenge.

But none of the schemes were personal. Millie wounded my pride, my sense of how life is supposed to be. I didn't really give a shit about her as the object of my affection. Nor was my idea of revenge really that bizarre. Millie could have fought the divorce and come away with a lot more money. She could have caused me a lot more misery. My revenge was a quick divorce. More so, my redress was Janet and Andrea.

I handed Andrea the check for Millie and signed the documents. Andres fed them into her scanner. She pressed a few buttons on the keyboard, looked at the monitor for a minute, then turned to me. "Your divorce is officially filed. It's virtually unstoppable now and should be final in sixty to ninety days." She handed me a printed confirmation of the e-filing.

"Now what do I do?"

"First, you should tell your son. Then you either go home to Janet's townhouse, or better yet, step out of my office into the kitchen, and I'll make you supper."

"I don't want to impose."

"You're not imposing, and my time clock is off. I'll zap us grilled salmon and baked potatoes."

I didn't have much to do that evening, and I figured I should give some Janet time to herself. Andrea had a nice supper on the table in twenty minutes, including a small tossed salad that she whipped up. She put an open beer in front of me: Dogfish Head, the same kind I had bought to keep in Janet's fridge for show. It was hard to find, and damned expensive. She had really gone out of her way for me, and now that it was open, I couldn't refuse to drink it. She had a Bud Light in front of her.

I was halfway finished my supper, more than halfway finished my beer when I remembered. "I have to call Benjamin. I'll invite him to come for the weekend. Do you think Janet will mind?"

"Where will he sleep?"

I had forgotten about this. I lived in the guest bedroom and there was no extra bed in the house. I took a long swig of my beer. "I guess he'll sleep with me. I've got a big mattress."

"Won't that be awkward?"

"I guess, but what's the alternative- he sleeps with Janet?"

"Whoa, fella, what've you been drinking there?" She reached for my beer and scanned the label. Her eyes widened as she read 'twenty percent alcohol by volume.'

I took the bottle and tipped the last of it down my throat.

"You always drink the strong stuff?"

I pointed to her Bud Light. "That's my usual. Who's going to sleep with whom when Ben comes?"

"That's not a question we should answer for other people."

I called Ben. He wasn't pleased his parents were breaking up, but he was happy for me. He agreed to come for the weekend. I advised him we'd spend a lot of time with Janet and Andrea.

"Okay Dad. But I need to talk to you alone."

"Can I trust you to protect my virtue?" I thought that was funny; Ben didn't agree.

"Dad, are you okay? You sound a little weird."

"Yeah, I'm, um, fine. Dumb joke. Maybe I drank too much beer."

"You? Too much beer? That's very weird. I hope you're not driving anywhere later."

"I'm at Andrea's house. I'm going to drive home."

"Geez, dad. First Janet, now Andrea... How many women do you have lined up?"

I shrugged, but he didn't hear it.

"Let me speak to Andrea." I handed her my phone.

"Uh huh... makes sense... okay... okay. You know what? Let's all meet at my place." She gave Ben her address before passing the phone back to me.

"Okay Dad, let Andrea take care of you tonight. Trust her. I've got to go. Love you."

Click.

"Phil, show me your car keys." Andrea held out her hand across the table.

I looked at her face.

"Please?"

Benjamin had instructed me to trust her, so I dug my keys out and placed them in Andrea's hand. She immediately disappeared upstairs with them. She returned a few minutes later wearing a nightgown and robe, carrying a pair of her late husband's pyjamas.

"You're tipsy. I should have given you a Bud Light, but you had Dogfish Head in the fridge at Janet's, so that's what I bought. You're not driving anywhere tonight."

" I had to scare off her boyfriend. The beer was how I staked a claim to my territory."

"You think my daughter is your territory?"

"You both are."

"Put these on." She handed me the pyjamas and I started to undress.

"Hold on, big boy. Follow me." She led me into the den, made sure the shades were down, and left the room. I really should practice my drinking more. One beer shouldn't do this to me, even if the one beer has as much alcohol as four regular beers.

I was in pyjamas when Andrea walked in, sat down on the couch and patted the seat beside her. I handed her the TV remote on the coffee table and sat down beside her.

"Perfect," she said as the screen came to life. It was the next episode of a history of monster truck competition.

I screwed up my face. "You like this?"

"There's usually more depth and human drama at the fringes of the mundane then there is in the center of the deliberately deep."

I tried to respond, but having consumed the equivalent of four beers, I quickly gave up on being able to wrap my mind around that profound declaration.

I flinched when the loud music of a commercial startled me from my very relaxed mood. I was surprised to find my head on Andrea's shoulder. I happily found that the top of her robe had opened. My eyes soon drifted closed as the next episode of monster truck began.

I woke again with the TV off, my head in Andrea's lap, the rest of me stretched flat on the couch. There was one part that wasn't flat; it was reaching upwards. It was contained by my pyjamas but was perilously close to poking through. Andrea's hand was encouraging its rise, as she rested it on my stomach, having pulled the pyjama top up a little. Was I sober enough to get up and go home? I had no idea how much time had passed. I rolled a little sideways, put my hand on her thigh under her nightgown, and continued to relax.

In a manner of speaking. My hand moved slowly upwards, gently inwards. The bulge in my pyjamas rose further. Andrea's hand moved inside my bottoms and stroked the side of my leg. I raised my head, reached for the bottom of her nightgown, and lifted it to her midriff. Her panties looked flimsy, so in a display of manliness I lay her down on the couch and ripped them off. In a display of affection I put my face between her legs and began to lick. She pushed and prodded me into position so she could reciprocate. We were both soon ready and she yelped as I entered her.

It had been little les than a day since I had been inside her daughter. Though I was still slightly drunk, or perhaps because I was still slightly drunk, I was able to hold back for a long time. I don't know how many times Andrea came, but when I finally shot my load she came with a scream.

Her scream shocked me fully awake, drove all the alcoholic sleepiness away. I sat up sharply. "Andrea, I didn't wear a condom."

"I know. Don't worry; I was hoping for this and was prepared. I'm not going to have your baby, at least not from tonight."

I exhaled.

She reached for the remains of her panties, wiped between her legs, and stood. "Let's continue upstairs."

It's strange how a rain-filled pothole turned my life completely around.

I marveled in the hot, liquid firmness of Andrea's pussy, amazed that she was as tight as her daughter. I marveled at my stamina, at my recovery time, at the touching of skin, of tongues, of genitals. I marveled at my happiness. It was well past dawn as we lay facing each other with our eyes open, having slept on and off between bouts of ecstasy.

Thursday

We got up, showered and ate breakfast together. I gathered Andrea in a tight embrace, squeezing her to my body for many minutes. It was difficult, but I eventually forced myself to let go. As I drove towards home I thought about Janet, I thought about Benjamin. Life was too good: I would be with Andrea, and we would set our children up with each other. Janet was already gone by the time I got home. I put on fresh clothes and headed to the office.

Janet and I were roommates, not lovers for the next couple of days. I didn't know if her mother had said anything, or whether she had simply figured the situation out for herself. She went to her job, I went to mine. We did nothing more intimate than sit close to each other on the couch while watching TV.

Friday

Benjamin got to Andrea's place before Janet and me. He greeted me with a hug, but to my surprise, simply shook Janet's hand. Was he pulling back into his shell? He asked me to take a walk with him, alone. We headed off to a nearby park.

We started off talking about me: how was I holding up, did I miss his mother, was I able to sleep, what will happen when she and I are in the same room...

To the latter I replied "I intend for that never to happen."

"What about when I get married?" Benjamin had a nervous smile on his lips.

"I think we have time to figure that one out."

Benjamin stopped walking, grasped my upper arms and turned me towards him. "Dad, I'm going to propose when I get back on Sunday."

Torrents of conflicting emotions crashed through my heart. This was wonderful for him. This was terrible for my plans for him and Janet. I thought he was too shy to deal with women; is someone pulling a fast one on him? Is Ben pulling a fast one on me?

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. "That's wonderful. Who is she?"

"Her name is Faith Wilson. She's a project manager for one of our biggest clients. Wait; I'll show you a picture."

He pulled out his phone and displayed a few photos. I thought she was mousy compared to Janet. "She's very nice looking. Let me know what happens." I mentally kicked myself in the shin for being so crass.

"She's smart, she's kind, and she's somewhat introverted like me. We're very comfortable together. Will you and Mom walk me down the aisle?"

The question deflated me, and I sat down on a nearby bench. "I don't know, Benjamin. I don't know. This is all too much. I don't know what's happening, but it's all happening too fast. Please, don't ask me questions like that now."

We walked silently back to Andrea's. Both women could see the change in mood as Ben and I walked in. Janet took Ben's arm, guiding him towards the kitchen. I followed. "Our job this weekend is to get Phil started on this new phase of his life," she said. "We have to make it cheerful. I know it's difficult for you. The folks who came together with love to make you are now apart."

Benjamin and I blushed.

"But that's not the end of love or happiness. We're going to do everything we can to make it easier for your father."

Ben nodded. "I'm glad you're here for him."

Andrea pointed us all to our seats. "Your father is a wonderful person, Ben. He's gorgeous, smart, and cares for people." She pointed a finger at me. "Don't argue." I held up my hands in mock surrender.

She took Benjamin's hand. "We'll be there for you when you want us." Janet squeezed his other hand in affirmation.

Wow, this could be awkward.

It wasn't.

Andrea had gone all out with supper. We started with my favorite: spicy chicken corn soup, followed by a roast with potatoes and vegetables. She offered wine, but I responded that I'd already consumed my share of alcohol for the week. By the time we got to the lemon cake and tea we were all feeling mellow, but it was the conversation and the people that accomplished that.

More specifically, it was Andrea and Janet who accomplished it. Their casual charm, humor and intelligence had us all chatting, laughing, relaxing. The sheer beauty of both mother and daughter held our attention, had our eyes swiveling when either of them shifted their legs or tilted their heads. Andrea was wearing a modest linen skirt and pale blue blouse; Janet was in a bright sundress. Benjamin had driven straight from work and was still in a business suit. I had a lavender polo shirt and loose, beige Dockers. I didn't want any possible tenting to be obvious in front of my son. It wasn't problem in front of the girls.

Andrea had us all sit on the patio while she cleaned up. I offered to help, leaving the kids on their own. I had been enough of an ass to deliberately sabotage Janet's relation to her boyfriend. Was I such an ass that I would do the same to my son and his girlfriend Faith? Odd coincidence, that was the name of the aggrieved woman whose husband stole my wife. Or my wife stole her husband, I'm not sure which. No, I decided, I wasn't going to interfere, I wasn't going to sabotage. Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be.

Cleaning up from supper didn't give Janet enough time to subvert Benjamin's intentions with Faith. I carried and rinsed the dishes; Andrea loaded the dishwasher. Soon we were out on the patio with the kids. I moved my chair close to Andrea's and held her hand as we chatted. Benjamin looked a little uncomfortable with that, but hey, everyone had come together to comfort me, and her hand was very was very good at that.

We chatted about baseball, we talked about psychology, we wondered whether God made a mistake by creating humanity. Janet argued that the opportunities for joy far outweighed the unhappiness and suffering. It was everyone's task, she said, to increase the joy of their fellow humans.