Special Stations of the Mind

"I wanted your hand on me," she whispered. "On my skin. True intimacy. But knowing how big the hurts can be with-"

Harry held a finger to her lips, "You don't have to say anything. I've understood."

Her eyes shone again as she smiled, "Your understanding has been a surprise. You' haven't pushed me at all. I appreciate that so much." Her eyes were fixed on him as she asked, "How many women have you had, Harry?"

Slightly scared by her question and where it might be heading, Harry tried to keep it light, "Millions," he said.

She laughed, "Many. Am I right?"

Harry nodded, "I have to admit."

Helen's face took on a more serious look, "And was I to be another notc h on your bedpost?" Just as Harry had thought, that fear of being dumped had lived with her, but did it still?

Matching her serious visage, I said," Could you ask that question in a different way? Be more direct."

"How many have you spent weeks with without trying to scr- Whoops, I nearly used a naughty word there. Before bedding them?"

That was the question, and the answer was easy, "None."

Harry could tell she was pleased with his response. Her smile was sweet as she asked, "And why have I slowed you up?"

He drew a deep breath, knowing he was on the verge of making a once in a lifetime commitment, hoping to find the words that would convince her. "Quite a few women have attracted me on first sight, but never, and I mean never, has a face, your face on that lower promenade, been so striking, that it opened something unknown inside me. The wind tossed your raven black, and did it catch my breath? No, it was your eyes, your cheeks, that smile, everything about you has lived with me, wherever I've been these recent weeks. There is a rich purity of character about you." God, where was I finding the words?

Her hands tightened over his, her face was very close, as she asked the same question that Harry was asking himself, "Are these not just the words of a practiced seduction artist?"

Here it was. Time for the finale. "Helen, there is not one woman on earth has heard me talk like that. And they certainly haven't heard me say this-" Now it burst from his lips, "—Helen, I want to marry you."

For a brief moment her jaw dropped, her eyes moistened, before she placed her head on his chest, from where she said in a tearful voice, "Oh, Harry, I can't say yes." As his heart sank, her head rose from his chest, a wide smile on her face, as she went on. "I have to yell YES!"

The following Saturday was massive. They went hand in hand to purchase a ring, which they left to have the size adjusted. Late in the afternoon they collected it, and Helen insisted that Harry slid it onto her finger. Not a massive diamond, but she was thrilled with it, and kept looking at it as they had a celebratory meal in a local restaurant. All day they had hugged close together, as though afraid the other would escape.

As Harry stopped the car outside her house, she said merrily, "Would you like a coffee?" Her grin was near to salacious. and Harry loved it.

"I have been asked that question before. It's a trap, isn't it?"

Holding the promise in her grin, she leaned over him, and her fingers slid up the inside of Harry's thigh. "You bet it is."

"I'm not sure if I'm experienced enough for a fast lady like you."

They were still laughing as she closed the front door behind them. Instantly they were crushed against each other. Their tongues probed and wrapped around each other like a pair of wrestling snakes. He was amazed to find that, somehow, she had already unbuttoned her blouse, and his hand slid around her back to unhook her bra. While she fiddled at the buttons on his shirt.

Helen broke the kiss to gasp, "Do you think we could make it to the bedroom upstairs?"

"It'll will be a struggle," Harry whispered. "But I'm willing to try."

All the way up the stairs they were shedding clothes. She managed to get Harry's shirt off, and her own blouse fell away easily, quickly followed by the already loosened bra. Walking up the stairs backwards, with Helen a couple of steps lower, in the dim light, Harry was able to gaze down on the brown tipped beauty of her uptilted breasts. As if that wasn't excitement enough, her fingers had unbuckled his belt and her hands pulled at his pants, Harry had to stop his backward climb to step out of them.

Helen's eyes were level with his boxer shorts, but she looked up into Harry's eyes as she reached for the waist band. "What have you got tied up in here?" With that she gave a sharp yank down. The boxers tumbled around his ankles, as his erect penis bounced free close to her face. This had happened to others of his female conquests, and fortunately Harry was ready for it, and he bent to grab Helen's shoulders as she, mouth gaping in surprise, would have stumbled back down the stairs.

Harry's action of pulling her to safety also brought his penis briefly against her face. He immediately released his hold and mumbled his apologies.

Helen shrugged, "I suppose I'll have to get used to being attacked by that monster. I haven't seen that many, but I'm not sure whether that will fit into me. Hell, will it fit into our house?" And her cool humour sent a wave of extra affection through him. Laughing together, he drew her up onto the landing beside him.

Helen leaned against him. The satin skin of her back was a pleasure for his hands. "You're lovely when you're naked," she whispered.

"And you are gorgeous even half naked."

She looked down as though just realising she was still wearing her skirt. "Oh, surely you don't want all my clothes off, do you?" she giggled, and pushed her elasticated skirt down, before slipping her hands inside her panties. Prompting Harry to ask, "May I have the honour".

"I know you won't believe this, but I thought I would be shy about this—"She opened her arms in an abandoned gesture, offering herself, "—but I'm not. Feel free."

Harry dropped to his knees, slipping his hands inside her panty waist as he went. Through the thin material he could detect the blackness of her triangle. Then the panties were gone and in front of his face was a mass of lightly curled black hair through which he could just detect the start of her labia. Without even thinking about it he leaned forward and his tongue licked through the tickling hair to touch that lustrous junction.

He felt Helen's body jerk, and not wishing to spoil his intended sequencing, he slowly rose, but stood back to view the full wonder of her. From her jet hair, over her delicate shoulders, the rounded breasts, and the curvaceous thrill of breast to waist to hip, she was perfection. And she was going to be his perfection.

Harry was finding it hard to believe that from all the women he had possessed, this moment, this overpowering moment , had him more entranced, more captivated than he had ever known. And he felt an overwhelming responsibility that everything he did to this wondrous lady had to be aimed at giving her sensations that she had never known.

"Now I do feel shy," she whispered, "just seeing the desire in your eyes when you look at me like that."

Harry drew her close to him, savouring the sensation of skin against skin, luxuriating proudly in feeling his sturdy penis pressed against her flat belly. He wondered how she felt about that as her hands clutched his buttocks.

As though reading his mind she murmured, "You feel so hard, so metallic."

"Warm metallic, I hope."

"Oh, yes, "she replied, and taking his hand she led him into a bedroom where white and peach colours fought for attention. She scrambled across the white bed cover, and pushed a peach cushion to one side. Helen stretched out on her back, as provocative a beauty as Harry could ever imagine.

Moving to join her, he placed his lips on her feet, with his hands on her legs, and kissed his way, from there, his hands always one stage ahead, up her body. Calves, thighs , inner thighs, fingers riffled her pubic hair just before his mouth and tongue nuzzled into that area. Once again her body trembled, but he moved on. How sweet it was to stroll with hand and mouth over that exquisite flat belly, and to reach the foothills of her breasts.

Little grunts and gasps came from her, as Harry sucked at a nipple. "That is pure rapture," she sighed, "but I'd like to be kissed."

Always willing to oblige, Harry moved up, and could have had time freeze, as he looked down at her lovely face, into those dark eyes, and at those slightly parted lips. As he lowered his own lips to hers, her tongue shot forward as though wanting to be sucked into him. Her tongue explored his inner cheeks and deeper, and his mouth was all a-tingle as his own tongue took up the challenge.

Helen's hand reached down and her fingers trailed with tantalising gentility along and around his length, before hefting his testicles in her hand. Mouths still locked in near desperate union, Harry moved his hand over her belly, circling his open palm there, intent on teasing. Then he ran his fingers into the curling hair, which caught at his fingers, before he moved his hand back to her belly.

He reached beyond her pubic area, and sensed her thighs parting, and he was stroking, gently stroking that fantastic smooth skin of her inner thigh, as she began to pull at his erection.

She broke their kiss and gasped, "I want you inside me, Harry. I think I've wanted it for some time."

Harry gave her a loving smile and said, "And you never told me. How cruel you women can be." He would have happily gone ahead with her request. In fact his throbbing penis was longing to lance its way up inside her. But patience would bring its own reward. His hand being on her inner thigh it had only a short journey to stroke the length of her labia. Her breath quickened.

Harry moved his head down to kiss around her breasts, over her belly, until he was licking around her belly button, probing it with his tongue. By spreading two fingers he parted her labia to find her whole sex already soaked. His fingers found her clitoris and it was out and erect, easily located. Harry hoped it would always be that way. He raised his head, as his fingers parted her labia and held them apart.

"God, Harry, what are you doing? Please, hurry." Her choking appeal was almost plaintive.

"I'm just inspecting it— Making sure everything is there."And he was staring into the desirable pinkness of her folds, seeing the mysterious hole, open and waiting for him. Then he swooped his head down into the cream and musk of her, and licked her whole wet valley, his tongue ending up flicking on her clitoris.

He listened to her breathing. It was heavier, and with just a note of panic. Any more and he would be cruel. Gently he suckled her clitoris once more.

"Harry, I'm going to-Oh, Harry-"And her hips began thrusting into his face. Quickly he moved his body and positioned his penis at her vaginal opening intending a slow, deliberate entry. But his judgement had been totally wrong. Helen's head was tossing from side to side, covering her face in strands of her fine black hair, and the heaving and wriggling of her hips made entry difficult.

But entry was made, and Harry found that the passage up into his lovely Helen was so smooth, so vibrant, so mutually exquisite that he hoped the moment would never end, as Helen's keening cry of delight, mingled with his own moaning grunts. With only four major thrusts needed, he had flooded her womb with his eager seed. A triumph.

Regaining her breath as she lay under him, Helen whispered," Oh, Harry, say it will always be like that."

Old Harry felt his eyes moisten. It wasn't always like that. As year followed year, as they came to know each other's body, knew well how to please each other, it just get better, through fifty five years of shared loving.. There was a trembling in his chest as he realised he could not now close down the memories. But most of them were good. Why fear them?

They were married in the August and it was natural for Bill Sanders to be his best man. Bill turned up on the day before the main event, accompanied by a tall, sensuous blonde lady, introduced as Florence. Drinking alone together later, Harry told Bill that she was charming.

"Better be. We're getting married in November. Your bad influence."

"You said you'd never marry," Harry challenged.

"Sometimes you've just got to go with the flow." His pun was not lost on Harry. "I'll be looking for a best man, but, unlike you, I'll be wanting someone who is not as handsome as me. Will you do it?"

Bill never changed.

Harry had easy recall of their honeymoon in Cornwall, where each night they made love as though they would never see each other again.

Their first daughter, Holly, was born the following February, and, both wondered if she might be a product of that very first night together.

A second daughter, Jenny, a year later, was a further joy. Ah, these pleasant memories. Harry could take those full rich years together. If they were in love at the start, those subsequent years , with all the highs and lows, only strengthened their bond. The success of their respective businesses, the marriage of their daughters—and always there was the continuous delight of their physical union.

Harry closed his eyes, and smiled at the time when a sex scene came on TV, and Helen would chuckle and say, "I taught you that."

Right into their seventies they could still make it, but it became more hugs, cuddles with the occasional surprise. Just one year ago having a good night cuddle, Harry had an unexpected erection. As had always been her nature, Helen accepted him into her gladly. Surprised at rising to the occasion, with both reaching an amorous peak, Harry had gasped in the after glow, "I hope I can afford that." To which Helen replied, "Oh, I'm sure you'll keep something in the bank."

. Old Harry felt his insides churn, and his chest ache as the memory he didn't want would not be denied. That evil brain aneurysm, and suddenly cruelly fast , mercifully quick, Helen was no longer there beside him. Not physically anyway, but for Harry she was, and would always be everywhere about him, in his head, in his heart, in his every breath. Wherever he went she would go too. Oh, yes. Oh.

"City terminus. All passengers leave the train please."

A grey haired lady saw the old man, very pale, with his eyes closed. "Mister, excuse me. End of the line."

Harry wasn't hearing, he wasn't moving, he wasn't breathing. The heart that he had given to Helen was no longer beating. He looked so calm. Harry had reached his own end of the line, but one thing was sure, Helen would be making this journey with him.