Show Me A Good Loser...

Molly was half my age, at 24. She was too young for me and already had a steady boyfriend, but we got along great as friends, and she had spent many a Thursday night listening to my tale of woe. I guess I found it easier to unburden myself to an acquaintance rather than any of my family or close friends.

"Your mom wouldn't happen to be single, by any chance?" I asked, only half-joking.

"Actually, you'd probably really like my mom, but my dad's kind of attached to her," she said with a cute giggle.

Another customer had seated herself at the bar, about four seats down. Molly left to see to that person's needs. Having nothing better to do, I watched Molly interact with the new customer.

The new customer was easy to look at, that was for sure. She was a short woman with shoulder-length blonde hair. Despite the fact that she was dressed like a 50-something, I guessed that she was about 10 years younger than me. She was wearing Mom jeans and a loose-fitting flannel shirt, but as she sat there talking with Molly, I got the impression there was a fairly tight body under the clothes. When I realized that I was checking her out, I admitted to myself that I was pathetic.

"Who's your friend? I don't recall seeing her in here before," I said to Molly as she came back to me with another double bourbon.

Molly looked back and forth from the blonde woman to me several times and her face broke into a smile. I could see the wheels spinning in her head, so I gave her a minute.

"Yeah, that could work," she whispered to herself before turning back to me.

"That's Rocky - Raquel Brignand. She's been coming in here occasionally for the last few weeks now. Divorced several years now from an abusive husband. She was some sort of brainiac nerd in high school. Now she's a math prof at the local college. Married for 15 years. Finally got tired of the animal beating on her," Molly said.

"I guess now she's spooked about any guy. She told me she hasn't had a date since she divorced him. You know... maybe the guy she needs is sitting just a few seats away."

I could see the wheels spinning in Molly's brain. I started shaking my head.

"This isn't 'Sleepless in Seattle' or some other chick flick, Molls. This is real life. Real life isn't pretty, at least for me for the last several years," I said.

"Yeah, but you're a great guy, Tal. You're probably the answer to the question she's afraid to ask," Molly said.

We discussed it for a few minutes. I agreed that Molly could make the introduction.

After fixing a round of drinks for a group at a table, Molly went back and talked to the woman. They looked over at me several times. I felt like I was back in high school. Molly finally crooked a finger at me, beckoning me over.

I walked over feeling like I was back in high school and being set up for a date. I watched her dark blue eyes appraise me head to toe as I approached. I laughed inside, and I know I smiled self-consciously on the outside, because her appraisal was totally a guy thing, especially her openness about doing it.

"You'll do," she said softly, causing me to chuckle.

Molly made the introductions, then walked away to mix some drinks, I suppose. I wasn't sure because I was regretting walking over to this seemingly ridiculous set-up.

"Kind of feels like a blind date, doesn't it?" the blonde said, showing me a full set of beautiful white teeth with a megawatt smile that I wasn't expecting.

She looked directly into my eyes, and I felt like she was searching my eyes for something. I know I would have looked away from that stare when I was a kid, but now I kept my gaze trained on her. We held this mini-staredown for about 15 seconds, then for reasons I still don't understand, I slowly leaned in and planted a soft kiss on her full lips. She never backed up a millimeter when I leaned in, and kissed me back with the same pressure with which I kissed her.

"I see you're the shy and retiring type. That's not the way Molly described you to me," she said softly.

"Uh... I'm not sure why I did that, actually," I stammered. "That's actually the first time I've ever done that."

She looked at me doubtfully. I shrugged, raising my eyebrows. Then I leaned back in and we kissed again, this time a little more forcefully. Ooh. I could get used to this. I knew I needed to say something. She beat me to it.

"So, Molly tells me that you were married a long time. How are you enjoying 'life on the outside?' Seems like you've got your act kind of figured out."

She made air quotes with her fingers as she said that, then gave me another of her bright smiles.

"I've had about half-dozen dates since I divorced, three with the same woman, a co-worker. Remembering back a hundred years or so, dating used to be fun. This, not so much."

"Well, if we're counting this as a date, this is number one for me since my divorce six years ago. If we're not counting it, then my streak is intact," she said. "I'm not sure how much Molly has told you..."

"Just the basics," I interrupted. "But that is enough. Let me state for the record, I have never raised my hand to a woman."

"Good to know. But just in case, I carry a .22 and know how to use it. Just sayin'."

We stayed at the bar talking for a couple of hours. I found out Rocky was 42 years old. According to her, she was never the "it" girl, but was usually around the periphery of the popular kids in her small-town high school, somewhat of a lady-in-waiting. She was studious and organized.

According to Rocky, she didn't date often throughout high school, but when she did it was usually with a friend of one of the boys dating one of the hot chicks in the popular group. She considered herself a good girl, and didn't have her first sex until she was an 18-year-old senior, with her date in the back seat of his car after senior prom. The excitement of the moment overwhelmed the lack of physical satisfaction for her, although her date seemed more than well-pleased with the event.

Rocky went to college to study actuarial science, a discipline that assesses financial risks in the insurance and finance fields using mathematical and statistical methods. She spent a lot of time studying, but did a fair amount of partying and dating, as well. She had sex with about a half-dozen fellow students during her years, but her dating never got to the serious emotional stage.

That stage came about two years after she had graduated. She and a fellow employee at the insurance company where they both worked dated for almost a year before they were married. Her husband was three years older and Rocky enjoyed her first true romance. She also enjoyed the new sexual positions the much more experienced Arthur Martin brought to the bedroom.

The pair appeared to be very much in love when Rocky got pregnant five years into the marriage. After three months, though, she suffered a spontaneous miscarriage, and that seemed to trigger a change in the relationship, Rocky realized when she looked back on it.

Five years later, Rocky was almost sure her husband of 10 years was having an affair. She became sure when she overheard her husband's side of a conversation one evening when she got home early from a meeting that was intended to run longer.

The ensuing argument turned physical when Arthur backhanded Rocky to her knees. That was the last thing she remembered until she woke up in the hospital two days later.

Despite her husband's loud protestations of love for her, the divorce was done quickly. Rocky's feelings of inadequacy and fear lasted a lot longer, however, and six years later she was an associate professor of math "practically living the life of a nun: none today, none tomorrow and none next week."

She wiggled her eyebrows at me suggestively, then cracked up laughing. I grinned back at her, noting how pleased she seemed to be with her joke.

"Nobody ever said you math geeks are big on open mic nights at the comedy club," I said, giving her my most innocent smile.

Rocky glanced at her watch and said she needed to go. I handed her my phone and told her to put her digits in. She only hesitated for a second before taking my phone.

"Wow. You got her number. That's big, considering where she's coming from," Molly said as Rocky left the bar. "I wouldn't wait too long, though. You know, strike while the iron's hot, so to speak."

I took Molly's advice, and called Rocky for a date the next day. She accepted.

Although I had been out on a few dates since my divorce, I still wasn't comfortable with the concept. I knew I was done with Traci, but yet it still didn't feel right seeing another woman. I took our vows very seriously, even if she didn't, and it was going to take more time for me to accept the obvious. Still, I had kissed her... twice, and she had kissed back. I had never done something like that before, even back when I was a single guy. I couldn't explain it, but I definitely wanted to do it again.

In the next few weeks, we did several meals at various ethnic restaurants, attended a rock concert, a Mozart concert and a hockey game. She fit into my life as well as she fit into my side when I put my arm around her. We didn't rush into bed, in fact, we didn't get there until about our 12th date. We had gone back to her apartment after seeing a movie, and she made each of us a cup of coffee with a shot of Bailey's in it. I settled in to a spot in the middle of her sofa, and she sat down alongside of me but sideways, with her legs draped over my lap. I had my hands resting on her slightly bent knees until I started slowly rubbing up and down her thighs.

When I got to the crotch of her jeans, I could feel the heat coming off her. She mewled when I drummed my fingers on top of her sex. I continued that until she started to squirm, then I unbuttoned her jeans, dropped the zipper and worked my hand inside to find her soaked. I gently rubbed my fingers over her clit and she exploded, flopping on her back like a fish out of water for about 30 seconds before her breathing slowed and she lay still.

I pulled my hand out of her panties and slowly licked my fingers dry as she watched wide-eyed.

"You. Now. Right now. Please," she whispered.

"Absolutely," I responded.

I quickly had her naked and thumbed both of her nipples before I shed my clothes. I surprised her when I lifted her legs and pushed them back, her ankles over my shoulders. I pushed inside in two strokes, trying hard not to be too aggressive. I groaned as I slid into her slick, tight pussy, and she moaned in response. We started slow and gradually picked up pace, with Rocky humping back as good as I gave, until she lost rhythm as another orgasm overtook her. She was screaming unintelligibly as she came and I admit to letting out a roar of my own. Another minute later I enjoyed my own orgasm, growling as I filled her.

"Ooh, that was much better than I remember it being," she whispered as she grabbed the afghan off the back of the sofa and pulled it on top of us.

We played kissy-face like teenagers for about 10 minutes before she started drifting off.

"Been a long time for me, Tal. I'm exhausted."

"Not to worry, babe. Take a nap," I said.

She was soon snoring lightly against my chest. I drifted off with her and the nap turned into an all-night sleep. I woke up the next morning with a warm, wet mouth engulfing my morning wood. I was definitely enjoying her mouth, but I had no complaint when she pulled off, straddled my dick and slowly impaled herself on my rod.

She started off slowly rocking back and forth, grinding her pelvis on my hard-on for several minutes before she switched to bouncing up and down and picked up speed. I happily played with her jumping boobs while she bounced, making small grunting noises. The grunting noises then got louder before she shrieked her way to a strong climax, resting her hands on my chest as she finished. I slowed while she finished, then picked up the pace when she re-engaged mentally. We went hard at it for several more minutes before she enjoyed a second orgasm, taking me over the top with her.

We cleaned up and spent the entire day together, first at her apartment and then at mine. That evening we had a nice meal out, then went to The Unicorn for a few drinks. Actually, Rocky insisted we hit The Unicorn, because she wanted to talk to Molly.

The bar was jumping pretty good when we got there, so we both knew Molly wouldn't have a lot of talk time, but Rocky volunteered to get our drinks and went to the bar while I grabbed a table. I saw Rocky lean in close to Molly across the bar, then the two hugged quickly before Rocky came back to the table with a couple of pineapple margueritas.

"Pineapple margs, really?" I questioned.

"Oh, yeah," she answered. "I love pineapple, and I am so going to suck you dry when you take me home. Got a problem with that?"

"No, Ma'am. My momma didn't raise no fool," I said.

Six months later we were talking about moving in together when I lost my head while we were enjoying sex one night. We were getting after it pretty good in doggy for a couple of older people when I gave her ass a good smack with my right hand. No sooner had the smack resounded than I knew I fucked up. Rocky immediately stiffened like a board, stopped moving and disengaged, glaring back at me as she did so.

"That's not happening ever again!" she yelled at me before heading off to the bathroom and locking the door.

I spent the next half-hour trying to calm her down through the locked door. Smacking my woman's ass was something I had done with Traci and women before her just as a matter of course, but I should have remembered about Rocky's history.

I finally got a pissed off and semi-hysterical Rocky out of the bathroom. I apologized left and right for the next two hours.

"I lost my head, babe. It was a heat of the moment smack. I'd never lay a hand on you in anger. You know that," I pleaded.

It took her a long time to calm down and accept my apologies.

"I'm sorry, Tal, but I'll never allow myself to be a victim again. I know you didn't mean to hurt me, but you can't do that ever again... EVER. Got that?"

"Completely, babe," I said softly.

Although Rocky didn't hold it against me, things were just a little off between us for a few weeks. Knowing the story, I didn't push her for anything, and little by little we came back to each other.

We were in a Barnes & Noble milling around separately, both looking for something to read, when I saw him approach her. He was tall and well-built, about mid-30s, fairly good-looking and apparently very confident as he walked up to Rocky, touched her on her forearm and started talking to her. This was no random approach, and from several aisles over I watched in dread. Yes, Rocky and I were a couple, but we had not made any formal commitment to each other, with the exception of our living arrangements. Was I watching the beginning of the end for our relationship?

They talked for just a few minutes. At one point I watched as her face flushed bright red. He then handed Rocky his phone, hoping to get her to put in her number. I watched in terror as she gave him her best dazzling smile, then she hesitated... and handed the phone back. I let out a huge sigh, not realizing I had been holding my breath for some time. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. I realized I couldn't lose this woman.

I slowly made my way back over to Rocky after her would-be suitor walked off.

"You don't look so good," she said as she did the mom thing and put her the back of her hand to my forehead to check my temperature.

"Oh really, Mom?" I snarked at her. "I'm fine, really."

She punched me in the shoulder, putting a little bit of heat into it.

"Mom? Mom? Don't make me turn you over my knee, old man."

I went out and bought the engagement ring the next day.

Lydia was happy for us. She and Rocky had built a nice relationship.

It took a while after Traci's second betrayal for Lydia and I to get back to a good place. She had leaned hard on me to reconcile with her mother after her first affair, and I guess I took out some of my frustration on my daughter after the second betrayal. I also knew she felt guilty for her mother being a slut.

By mutual agreement, Lids and I didn't talk much about her mother. The last I knew, Traci's paramour had stayed in town to get his MBA and they were still fucking during and after the divorce. After he got his second degree, however, he had left town for a job several states away, and Traci apparently wasn't in his future plans. According to Lydia, he had told my ex-wife that she was a great fuck, but he wasn't even considering marrying a woman old enough to be his mother.

"He wanted someone his own age who could give him three children and whom he could show off in public, not someone's slut ex-wife," Lids had said. "Mom cried for weeks."

Two weeks after I got engaged, Lydia got engaged to her boyfriend of two years. When she Facetimed to tell us, she and Rocky did that girl squeal thing with that high pitch that I think only dogs can hear comfortably. They jumped around like 5-year-olds on a sugar buzz. Her fiancé and I just stayed in the background and smiled. Much safer that way.

Rocky and I were having a small, intimate wedding in about two months, but Lydia wanted the full deal and set her wedding for a year off. She asked Rocky if she wanted to help, but warned her Traci would be her main helper as the mother of the bride. My gracious fiancée said she understood and would be available to help as needed.

Although Traci was alone at the rehearsal and dinner, she came to the wedding with a date I guessed to be about the same age as our daughter. My daughter wasn't exactly pleased with that development, and I saw the two exchange sharp words before the ceremony. Her date at least sat in the back of the church at the ceremony, not with her in the parents' row like my Rocky did.

Chuck, a co-worker of Traci's, sat with us at the bride's family table for the reception. For the first half-hour, he smirked at me like he knew a secret that he was barely able to keep to himself.

"It's okay, Chuck. We all get it," smiled Rocky as sweetly as possible. "You're sleeping with Tal's ex-wife. How exciting for you. But if you keep smirking at Tal like that, I'm going to turn him loose and you're going to get your ass whipped right here like the punk you are."

"No problem, ma'am. I didn't mean any harm," Chuck said in his most obsequious tone.

"Oh, Traci. You're really sleeping with this young man? Oh, my," her red-faced mother said.

Traci sat quietly, examining the tablecloth right in front of her. I'll admit to enjoying her discomfort.

The rest of the evening went much better. In addition to dancing with my daughter during the father-daughter dance, I spent a good part of the evening dancing with my wife. I also made sure to dance with my mother and my former mother-in-law. I didn't even ask my ex-wife. In fact, I barely talked to her during the evening.

As the reception was winding down, Traci finally worked up her nerve and asked me to take her out on the dance floor.

"We are the parents of the bride, Tal. We created that child. We can at least take a spin on the dance floor together," she said.

"I've never hit a woman before, Traci. You know that. But you came as close any woman has. No dance. Not now. Not ever."

******

Rocky is an interior decorator, and every now and then she has to work late and also some weekend hours as part of the job. I accept the occasional extra, and never gave it a thought... at least until three years later when the occasional extra hours turned into a regular thing. She gave me all the usual excuses, which all sounded legit, when I first whined about it.

I was in the neighborhood around noon one day, so I decided to take my wife to lunch. I was thwarted in my attempt, though, when the office receptionist, who didn't know who I was, told me Rocky was out on a call, and would be gone the remainder of the afternoon. I didn't leave my name or a number, telling the receptionist I would try back one day soon. Rocky being out was not an unbelievable occurrence, but I thought it strange that she never mentioned she would be out of the office for much of the day. That was the kind of thing we normally would have shared at dinner, but as of late, she seemed to be growing distant from me and communication seemed to be growing sparse.