Rita Remembers Ch. 04

Author's Note: My warmest thanks to Ronnie Wachuka for his help and lending a male perspective to this entire story. My thanks also to my friend Gloria.

In this chapter, there are things that are not viewed as priestly demeanor. I do not apologize for these, but rather say that friends of mine that are Priests have told me that chastity, poverty and obedience are sometimes ignored as the challenges and temptations of life abound. These men are vulnerable in that they are human. They have the same wants, needs and desires that we all have. The difference lies in their strong commitment to the Church and to their vows.

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Frank stood on the porch of the stately old house and looked over the immaculate yard, flowering shrubs, and gardens. He turned as the door was opened and the maid asked, "May I help you, Father?"

He smiled down into the face of the woman and fleetingly thought of Mammy in Gone With the Wind. She was short, almost as broad as she was long, and he could envision a take-charge attitude, but with a keen sense of humor. He could see it in the laugh lines around her dark eyes.

"Yes, please," he said. "I'm Fr. O'Conner, and I would like to see Mrs. Thompson if she is available."

She motioned him in and closing the door, pointed to the room across from the foyer. "You can please wait in there, Father. I'll tell Mrs. Thompson you're here."

The room was sunny and bright with flowers and antiques. The furniture was quality, yet comfortable. Frank thought to himself, yes, this room looks like Rita; classic elegance, yet comfortable. He stood and looked at the picture above the fireplace. A lovely couple on their wedding day. She was in her wedding gown, he in his Air Force dress uniform. Her large bridal bouquet lay on an antique table next to a candle. He was holding her daughter in his arms and anyone could see the love and happiness on Rita's face. It tugged at his heart and he shook his head sadly. Then he looked at the photo more closely – especially at the small girl held in the man's arms. Could it be true? The cold facts over the telephone had only told him when the baby had been born. The dates were burned in his mind.

"Frank," Rita said softly as she walked into the room. "This is such a surprise."

"Is it?" he asked, turning to face her. "I told you I wanted to see you."

Rita was dressed in black as befit her mourning. Frank took in the black dress that covered her demurely, yet hinted of what was underneath.

She sat primly on the sofa as Frank took the chair opposite her. "How did you find me? I didn't tell you where I live or reveal any way for you to find me."

"I have sources," he replied. "I had to see you."

The maid appeared and Rita asked her to bring coffee and scones for them and then leave them alone. They chatted about her parents and the Church until the coffee was poured and the French doors were closed.

Frank looked up at the picture again. "Your wedding portrait is beautiful. Who is the child?"

Rita's hand shook as she set her coffee cup down. "That's my daughter." She didn't elaborate, or even mention her name, but Frank knew.

Suddenly the doors flew open and her children both spoke at once. "Mother, is it okay to invite friends this afternoon to swim for a while? We may go play tennis though if its not."

Rita smiled and looked at her watch. "Of course its all right. Just make sure its ok with their parents. Oh, and children, next time please mind your manners. I have a guest and we were talking. You both know better."

"Yes, ma'am," they both replied. "We're sorry."

"Now," said Rita, turning them to Frank, "this is my daughter Frances Anne and my son, Michael. Children, this is Father O'Conner. He is a friend that I knew years ago in Rome when I lived there with my parents."

"Its nice to meet you, sir," they both said and made a hasty exit.

"Teens!!" Rita chuckled. "No wonder I have gray hair."

Frank eyed Rita carefully. He hoped he wasn't wrong, and if he were, he would apologize profusely. He had seen her hand shake when he mentioned the portrait, and he knew, deep down after seeing the child up close, he was right. He settled deeper into the chair and spoke softly. "Tell me about my daughter, Rita."

Rita looked deeply into his eyes. She couldn't lie to him – not Frank.

"We made love several times without precautions, and one of those times we created our daughter. I found out that I was pregnant when I came back from Florence. But you were gone. No call. No letter. Nothing. I had no other choice but to have our baby. Daddy helped me get back to the United States and I stayed with his only sister in St. Louis.

He could see the tears brimming in her eyes and knew how hard this was for her, but at this moment he didn't give a damn. He was angry that she had kept his daughter from him.

I had our daughter all alone except for Aunt Jeanne. I stayed in St. Louis because the war was beginning and Washington, D. C was not a place for a young woman with a baby. During the war I did a lot of volunteering with the USO and the Red Cross. Aunt Jeanne would watch Frankie and I got out of the house for a few hours. Toward the end of the war I met Mike. He was a liaison with the Army Air Corps based in St. Louis. He stayed with the new Air Force when it was formed. We were married shortly after WWII ended. But then the Korean War started and as a Lieutenant Colonel, he headed up a squadron. He was killed in a raid about two months before I saw you at that reception. It was just over three months ago and I mourn him deeply. He was gone for almost two years except for a few days leave here and there and the ten days leave when I got to fly to Hawaii and we had almost a second honeymoon.

But you want to know about Frankie. What can I say? She looks so much like you, Frank, and she is so smart. The top of her class and just like you, she has an ear for languages. She loves science and math too. I think she will probably go to one of the top colleges –maybe even to Harvard like my father or to Yale like Grandfather Russell. But she has my temper and there are times when she can be a real handful."

Rita dabbed at her eyes with a napkin and gave Frank a shaky smile.

"She has your physical attributes Frank, but she has more of you."

"Oh?" he questioned. "Tell me."

"She has your personality in a lot of ways, and she is patient, kind and compassionate. She loves people and wants to go into some sort of public service after college. She has talked of becoming a nun, but I hope she will change her mind. I would love to have grandchildren before I'm too old to enjoy them."

Frank nodded. "I see." He sat contemplating all she had told him, and on the surface he appeared calm. If she could have seen below, she would have known the depth of the anger and pain he felt.

"I don't understand one thing you told me, Rita. You said you had no choice in having Frankie. Why?"

Rita looked up at him in surprise. "I didn't have a choice, Frank. You know the Church's stand on abortion."

"Bullshit." He stormed. "That's a damned cop out, Rita. Abortions are done every day and the Church doesn't know about it unless the person feels remorse enough to confess it. Then we get involved. Don't hand me bullshit, Rita. Give me truth. Give me facts. Don't lie." His face had darkened and he trembled slightly with rage.

"All right, Frank," she cried as she rose and walked to the window, looking out. "I'll tell you, dammit. I couldn't have an abortion because I wanted her. I wanted your baby, Frank. She was the only part of you I had left."

Rita turned to face him, tears streaming down her face as she choked out, "Don't you understand, Frank? I loved you then. I love you now. Frankie is the only part of you I would ever have, and I'll be damned if I was going to give her up. She is part of you!"

He rose, forgetting his anger, and went to her, wrapping her in his arms; pulling her tight against him as she sobbed.

"I've loved you for so long, Frank. I don't know what its like to not love you. I loved you when I was married to Mike. He was a good husband and father, but he wasn't you. I loved him, but it wasn't the same." Her arms inched around his waist and she clung to him as his arms held her tightly.

"Oh, dear God, Rita." He cried into her hair. "I never knew. I loved you; I still do, but I wasn't sure how you felt. I've hurt you so badly. I'm so sorry." They held each other tightly and sobbed together.

In time he raised her tear streaked face to his and kissed her gently. "We have a beautiful daughter, Rita. Let's celebrate her and let our past failings go. I won't try to take Mike's place in her life, but I can promise to be there for her and for you from now on."

He released her and she groaned softly. "I don't want to be out of your arms," she whispered. Frank chuckled and kissed her gently. "I don't want you out of my arms either, but if you're a good girl and go wash your face, I'll take you to dinner. I'm starved."

"I am too," she giggled. As she opened the French doors she turned to him. "Don't go away. I'll be right back."

He grinned. "I'll be right here."

"I mean it, Frank. Don't you dare pull a disappearing act again, like you did in Rome." She grinned mischievously, and he laughed. "I won't. I promise. Now, scoot." He popped her on her bottom and she squealed softly. "You'll get paid back for that," she laughed, shaking her finger at him.

"I can hardly wait," he whispered as he pulled her against him and she felt his erection. "Ohhh," she whispered. "You really make it difficult to leave you even for a bathroom break."

"Go, woman." He said gruffly. "Time's a wastin!"

As he watched her hurry up the stairs, he adjusted his turgid cock. "Oh yeah, Rita my love, I still want you."

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Rita and Frank sat in the back of the dimly lit restaurant drinking coffee laced with Irish whiskey. They had dined on fresh oysters, Maine lobster, and salad. Now they sat holding hands across the table.

"I want you, Rita," he said simply. "Don't make me take you home. We have this time together and we can't waste even a moment."

She smiled softly. "Take me to your hotel then. I want you too. I'm not going home tonight. Mamie is there with the children so they will be fine."

Frank quickly signaled for the check and leaving a generous tip, they left the restaurant; fortunately they were within walking distance of the hotel. They kept on talking as they walked quickly. Rita was not truly nervous but her heart was filled and they held hands as they walked along the downtown New York City streets. The pulse beat of the vibrant city was reflected in both of them. As they approached Frank's hotel, he hoped he could wait these last few minutes...he felt he was going to explode.

Arriving at his fashionable hotel, they used the side entrance and were soon in Bishop O'Conner's suite. Rita was impressed in spite of her own background, the living room had a large davenport and matching loveseat and several comfortable upholstered chairs. The large French doors led onto a small balcony above the city's lights.

Turning around, Rita looked at Frank with her eyes telling him of her passion. With a deep sigh, he kissed her deeply and then swung her into his arms, just as he had done over 15 years earlier. "Are you surprised? I do work out and you can't weigh much more than you did when we were in Rome". He kissed her lips and then nibbled hungrily down to her ears and neck.

He picked her up, walked into the bedroom and laid her down on the satin bedspread of the king-sized bed. He paused then and slipped his suit coat off. "Wait, Frank, let me please?" Rita sat up and slipped her fingers into the collar at the top of the clerical shirt he was wearing. Very carefully she slipped it out and then flung it over onto the bureau. "I have always liked you better without the damned collar!" He chuckled as she began to work on the small buttons closing his shirt – tickling and tugging on his chest hairs, she finished quickly and reached down to unfasten his cuff links from his right and left wrists. She smiled mischievously saying "Do you remember that time we were in such a hurry that we ripped off almost all of your buttons from one of your few sports shirts? My darling Frank, how things have changed!" she giggled as she slid the shirt off of him and tossed it onto the chair.

"I'll teach you to tease me." he laughed, grabbing her wrists. He pulled her to her feet and unzipped the black silk dress. Soon it was puddled at her feet. Frank bent over and began kissing her soft shoulders. His other hand unhooked her bra and soon it was next to the dress surrounding her ankles and shoes. Frank slipped his hands into the top of her panties and kneeling slowly pulled them down over her hips and then past her knees. "Grab my shoulders," he said. Lifting each foot in turn, he slipped her shoes off and then the panties. Rising in one swift motion which spoke of long decades of practice, he picked her up again and laid her softly onto the pillows. Standing in front of her next to the bed, he unzipped his black pants and with one motion dropped his briefs and pants and tossed them onto the chair too. Lying down next to Rita he gathered her into his arms. She snuggled against his chest, placing feathery kisses until he raised her mouth to his and claimed it with a hunger that made her head spin. Her stomach knotted with desire and she could only focus on his tongue and his hands roaming with no hesitation over her body as if the years they had been apart had never happened.

His fingers found her wet warmth and he smiled as she gasped in pleasure, moaning softly. Her body was a wellspring of passion and she writhed under his hand, seeking more.

"Don't tease me," she begged. "Make me cum." She could feel his hard penis between them, slick with his precum. She held it tightly as she slid it slowly back and forth in her hand. Frank groaned as it throbbed and he moved to set her legs over his shoulders. Her eyes were tightly closed and her mouth formed an O as she moaned her passion.

He pressed forward and slid deeply into her pussy as she raised her hips to take him in. In seconds their rhythm was set and they rode the crest together until he growled deep in his throat, "Cum Rita. Cum for me. I can't hold off any longer."

She felt the mushroom head of his cock swell and it sent her spiraling over the edge into spasms that milked him, drawing out every drop of semen he had to give. She screamed his name as he came hard, grunting and groaning until there was no more and he slid out coated with their mixture.

Frank dripped sweat onto her chest as he rose to kiss her gently. "I love you, Rita," he whispered. "God help me, but I do."

"I love you, too," she smiled, looking into his eyes as she combed her fingers through his hair. "I don't know what we will do, but somehow this will work out."

He nodded as he lay down beside her catching his breath. "We'll work it out."

Rita rolled to her side and gently stroked his chest with her fingers. "It was as if we've always been together, Frank, at least for me."

He chuckled and pulled her closer. "I know. It was like yesterday. All the years of being apart don't exist. We've taken up where we left off."

"Yes," she giggled as she slipped out of bed to go clean up, "and we still don't remember to use the condoms."

Frank lay with his eyes half closed, chuckling. "They're in the right hand pocket of my pants."

Rita laughed and picked up a soft pillow, throwing it at him. "A lot of good they're going to do there!"

She made a run for the bathroom as he caught it and threw it back at her. "You better run, lady," he called after her as she giggled and shut the door.

Laughing, he sat up and swung his feet to the floor and put his briefs on before heading to the living room to fix them something to drink. Frank heard the bathroom door open and called to Rita, "What would you like to drink, sweetheart? They have white wine, vodka, gin, brandy, rum and scotch. They have pop and ginger ale stocked, too."

"Surprise me," she said grabbing his black shirt off the chair, putting it on. Her hair was a bit wet from the shower and hung in curls around her shoulders.

She wandered barefooted into the living room and stood for a moment taking in the tall man fixing drinks at the wet bar. Frank looked up at her and whistled softly. "My shirt looks better on you than it does on me."

He held out a glass of white wine to her and she took it as she ran her fingers lightly over his hand. "Thank you," she whispered, taking a sip. "This is very good."

Together they walked onto the balcony and stood looking over the lights of the city. He stood behind her, his brandy in one hand, his other arm encircled her waist and pulled her back against him.

Rita smiled softly. "New York is so beautiful at night."

"Almost as beautiful as you," he whispered, kissing the side of her neck gently. "I'll never look at a New York night now without thinking of you."

"How long do we have, Frank?" she asked quietly.

"I hadn't planned on being here too long," he answered and felt her body stiffen against him. "Only a couple of days."

He felt a tear on his hand, and turned her to face him, brushing the wetness from her face. "I'll string it out for a few more days, then I have to get back to Stamford. There are things I have to take care of there."

"I understand," she whispered. "I'm so selfish where you're concerned. After more than 15 years we're together again, and once more you're going to leave."

"I know," he said softly, kissing the top of her head as he held her close. "It isn't fair to either of us, but it can't be helped. I have my duties and you have your family. Your kids need you especially at this time."

He tilted her face to his. "But at least this time you know where I'll be. I'm not disappearing without a trace."

Her arms went around his neck as she played in the soft hair there. "Make love to me, Frank. I want to memorize your touch. I want to feel you with me when you're gone." She pressed her hips forward and softly swayed against him. She felt his penis harden.

He could see her eyes shining in the dim light and he wasn't sure if it was passion or reflection. His lips descended to hers as he ran his tongue slowly over her mouth and then just lightly around the inside of her mouth as she opened to him. She tasted of the wine and soon Rita felt as much as tasted the heady spiciness of good brandy. Swaying together they almost danced on the small balcony, Rita's arms holding Frank as if by her strength alone she could keep them together. He held her close and rested his head on top of hers. "Frank...if I asked a favor of you would you grant it?"

"Ask me anything...well almost anything...and I'll do it.

"Do you still travel with a fountain syringe?

"I have it with me, yes," he answered. "Why?"

"I always do," she answered. "It seems either stress or strange food and water cause my whole system to get out of sorts." She was half turned away from Frank and he turned her around so that her curvy fanny was grinding into his steel hard cock.

"Do you want to borrow it? Is that what you want, Rita? Would you like me to fill it full of baking soda and salt and wash you so clean that we both hear you squeak when I slide my cock in your very tight tail. Do you want anal?" He grinned mischievously as she lowered her head.

She nodded, blushing slightly. "Yes," she admitted, "that's exactly what I want. Mike would never do it. He thought it was dirty and he would never consent to making love that way. He said only sluts would do that, and I was his wife; not a slut.

Frank couldn't help a low chuckle. "He didn't know what he missed. He just might have had more woman than he realized if he'd done it and done it right. I remember Rome too and I remember how erotic, sexy, and wonderful making love to you anally was. You're the ONLY woman I have ever had that way...and we can share that special joy again. Come with me, sweetheart. I promise you the most erotic enemas you have enjoyed since our time in Rome!"