The Brass Ring

As he turns to walk back done to the car I ask him if he would like a cup of coffee to finish off the evening. He hesitates before he says, "are you concerned about what your neighbors might say?"

I am dumb- struck. I don't know what to say. All I can think is 'Where the fuck is this guy from, another universe or time zone?'

All I can think to say is "no."

"Alright," he responds I would love a cup of coffee and follows you into the house closing the door behind quietly.

I take his coat, hang it in the closet, and when he is sitting on the couch in the living room with remote TV clicker flipping through the channels, I go to the kitchen to make coffee.

It takes longer than I had planned. It doesn't seem appropriate that that I do instant so the perk comes out. The mugs are left in the cupboard and two china cups and sauces come out with the matching cream and sugar dispenser. Some napkins and teaspoons and I’m ready. As I walk back into the living room I are thunderstruck.

There he is, sitting on the chesterfield watching a re-run of the American President, with Annette Benning and Michael Douglas, and crying like a baby.

I set the tray down on the coffee table, take the clicker turn the TV off, and hurl the clicker at the wall, smashing it into a thousand pieces.

My rage has no bounds. I don't care what I say. I am beyond reason. I look at him and, with all the fury I can muster, I scream, "I've had enough. Who, the fuck, are you? I want some answers and I want them now. Why are you sitting in front of my TV crying like a baby? Why do these people call you Doctor and Professor? Why do they fawn all over you as if you represent the next coming of Jesus Christ? Why does the goddamn Governor call you by name? You're just a fucking Burner Service Technician, for Christ sakes? Where are the answers and I want them now."

I stand there fuming. The steam is rising from my ears. If I had High blood pressure I would have just had a stroke. I am ready to hit him and it is almost as if he hasn't heard me. Slowly he reaches for a napkin and wipes his eyes and starts to talk and talk and talk. He can't shut up and I listen in amazement.

You know, he starts, that Movie, American President, is a great movie. Hollywood intended it, as a piece of romantic comedy and they don't even know what they were writing about. The truth that they told escaped them.

The President, the most powerful man in the world, is also the loneliest. He lost his wife to cancer and there he, is running the world, and trying to raise a 12 year old. She is smarter than he is. All he wants to do is think about his dead wife and the twelve-year old has already figured that life goes on, amazing.

Remember the scene when he meets Annette and she is mean mouthing him to Martin Sheen. He was captivated, but he didn't know why. That was the beginning of when he started to finally let go of his dead wife. Remember all his staff around him. All they wanted to do was protect him, like my friends today. Remember when he tried to talk to his daughter about inviting his lady friend to supper and he stumbled and stuttered and finally she took the bull by the horns and said "Dad, it's alright." Imagine out of the mouths of babes. She was smarter than the most important, powerful man in the world. Remember when he was shooting pool in the White House at night with Martin Sheen and he was trying to find out if she liked him. I thought that was priceless. Then him trying for the first time in 40 years to ask her for a date and the phones not working and she didn't believe that it was he on the phone.”

I say nothing, I just listen.

"Best movie I have ever seen, and it is just cheap popular trash. Very meaningful to me."

Then, for the first time, he looks me in the eyes and says, "well today you were Annette Benning and I was Michael Douglas. When I was 19, and in my third year of University, I met Mary who was a seventeen-year-old freshman? We fell in love and married immediately. We worked our way through school and when she graduated with a teaching degree she started teaching grade one and I kept on studying and researching and getting degrees. It was just what we did."

"We had a wonderful life. We lived for each other. It was heaven. Mary always use to take pride in my achievements, the degrees, the honors, she was always by my side. She was always a very clever woman but she always teased me in private saying ‘Donald, you are the brains of the family, there is two things you will never have to fear, me dying of a brain tumor or breast cancer.’ Mary was very sensitive about the small size of her breasts although I could never understand why. It is so ironic that she always said that. Three years ago she passed away of breast cancer. I have been living in the past."

"Today I came to service your furnace and there, in your robe and slippers, was my Annette Benning. Don't ask me to explain it, that is just is the way it is. I asked you to go out."

"I have never looked at another woman since I was 19 years old. Since Mary died it seemed so, unfaithful, to do so, until today. As I sat and talked to you in the kitchen I finally came to the realization that life has to go on and Mary told me that I was to make a new life without her. I just could not accept that. Now I can. Have you ever heard of the 19th Century American philosopher David Thoreau? Remember he is the one who said, ‘You can never go home’. What he meant, in simple terms, is you can never go back to the way things were in the past. The past is dead, cherish the memories, but move on. This morning, in your kitchen, I finally came to grips with that philosophy and made the decision to move on with my life."

"Before I picked you up at noon I resigned my position with the Burner Service Company. When we were first married it was hard to make ends meet and go to school so I worked as a Burner Service Technician. It was great because I was on call at nights and could go to school and research during the day. The nights were mine unless there was a call, but I got paid. When Mary died I took up the old job thinking that somehow in the recesses of my mind that it would keep me close to Mary. Silly, I know, but that is how I thought until today."

"When Mary died I tried to keep up with my teaching at the University but it just wasn't the same. My heart wasn't in it. So I took early retirement to do other things. Those silly people at the University thought so much of me that they named me Professor Emeritus of the History Department of the University of Ohio. So I am now known as Dr. Donald Williams, Ph.D. Professor Emeritus. Silly title really. All it means is that anytime I am bored I can go to the University and go into any history classroom and tell the lecturer to go for coffee and I can teach his class."

"You will recall that the governor stopped me today to enquire about the report. They have me studying higher education in this state.

"Stop." I shout.

Startled he looks at me.

"Are you, the Dr. Donald Williams, the one all over the front pages of the newspapers for the last six weeks. The one that has every politician peeing his pants wondering what you are going to recommend regarding educational reform and how they are going to raise the taxes to pay for it?"

He just looks at me and smiles.

"No wonder the governor didn't make a scene at the restaurant he's worried that you have him by the balls".

Again he just smiles.

"I must apologize for my friends at the University. They meant well. They knew that Mary and I were inseparable. They have never, ever seem me with another woman. They are very protective of me. All the co-eds that I have even taught sense that I am no threat to them and they seem to have adopted me as their local Daddy that they have to take care of in the absence of their mother. I am a diabetic and have to have my snacks and they watch me like a hawk. I can never cheat it’s a real pain in the neck sometimes."

"I don't want to concern you but I can assure you that you are the talk of many a dorm room and dinner table tonight." He grins for the first time. “Who was the professor with?

"Everybody will be checking you out to-morrow I can guarantee you." He lapses into silence. Slowly he looks in the eyes and takes my hand in his.

"Denise, there is something about you that I find irresistible. You have aroused feelings in me today that I thought were dead and buried. This morning, as I sat and talked to you, I realized just how special you were. No mortal man has the right to expect that he could find love a second time around. You do not give yourself enough credit. You are bright and intelligent beyond all book learning. You have a backbone of spring steel. You are determined to take all that life throws at you and defeat it or go down swinging. No quarter asked and none given. No mercy will be shown."

"When I told you the price of the part, you didn't beg or whine, try to wheedle a deal, you bit your tongue and did what had to be done. That is a rare quality in today's day and age."

"Your grasp of the world around you that I perceived this morning is truly remarkable. I don't think you give yourself enough credit, you are a very astute individual."

Gently he raises you hand to his lips and kisses your fingertips.

I notice, for the first time, the wedding ring is gone.

Donald looks at his watch and exclaims "my goodness, look at the time, it's almost 2:00 A.M. If I don't leave the neighbors will think you are a Scarlet lady!"

Scarlet Lady? What kind of name is that I think?

He rises and goes to the door and puts on his heavy clothes. I realize that I do not want this man to leave, he is special in some particular undefined way that I cannot explain, that he is totally unique, unlike anything I have experienced in life is beyond question, but I do not know how to get him to stay. I am totally tongue-tied.

As he turns to open the door I gently rise on my toes to kiss him good bye on the cheek and, unexpectedly, he turns to me to make one last comment, instead of my lips meeting his cheek they meet his lips.

The pleasure of the kiss is all the more because it is totally unexpected by both of us. Startled, neither knows how to react, but neither wants to take the initiative to break it for fear that the special moment may disappear forever, never to be recaptured. If either of us break it, it will show hesitancy to the other, a fear, an uncertainty that neither feels but is afraid that the other does, the hesitancy and the tentativeness of the kiss slowly disappears, and a hunger is introduced. I flow into his arms and he into mine. Our arms snake around each other and a passion begins to smolder, my tongue plays with his lips and soon his tongue and mines are dancing.

Finally neither of us can go on and we break our embrace.

I can't look him in the eyes but slowly, in a quiet but firm voice, with my head lowered and my eyes on the floor I say, "Don't go, I don't want you to go, please don't go."

His response is so totally in character that earlier I would have laughed out loud but now such a response would seem to be like an obscenity shouted in a church.

"I want to stay, but what might the neighbors say?"

I don't answer because there is no appropriate answer. I gently reach past him and turn off the porch light and take him by the hand down the hall to my bedroom turning off the lights as I go.

The bedroom is still a little upset from my quick preparations for my date with him, a century ago. Luckily the bed is made and the clothes are pretty well picked up. The only light is from the ensuite bathroom, which I had left on.

As I go through the door I turn to him and flow into his arms. The passion smoldering under the surface erupts and my hands and his fly. My tongue is down his throat and his hands firmly cup the cheeks of my ass as he draws me to the hardness in his loins.

Unseen hands remove my clothing and we are soon on the bed, naked in the embrace of each other. There is just enough light form the bathroom that each of us can dimly see the other.

Fortunately, I have the presence of mind to say, “Donald, don't forget to put on your condom."

Dead silence follows. The mood is broken. It is as if the governor has just walked through the door and turned on the lights to introduce me to the reporters and photographers who are standing at the entrance to the bedroom.

Quietly Donald says,

"I…. I…I…don't have one."

Without thinking, I blurt, "What do you mean you don't have one, no self respecting man goes out without a condom in his wallet. It is just like putting on your pants and taking your watch when you go out. "

His absolute total embarrassment is evident in his response.

"I am so sorry, when Mary and I wed there was no need to practice safe sex and we wanted children although we were never blessed. The doctors tried but Mary had a problem that could not be corrected, when she died I never looked at another woman it was the last thing on my mind. It would have been so, disloyal. I have never used a condom in my life, you must think I am awful."

All I can think is what a strange and wonderful man. In so many ways he is powerful and has touched so many lives in a positive manner but in so many ways his is totally out of his element in the modern world, It is almost as if he belongs in another age, of chivalry, Of knights on horses and in shining armor, and damsels in distress, not exposed to the barracuda's of modern society.

I reach over to my bedside stand and fumble among the assorted detris collected in the drawer. The unused leftovers from nights of passion that left me totally unsatisfied. I touch on discarded condoms. The "Screamers", the "Slick Willies", the "Climax Plus" and the ribbed ticklers which I encounter seem totally inappropriate. Finally my fingers settle on a plain condom in a silver foil wrapper. Gently, I hand it to him.

As he fumbles to unwrap it and place it on his member it is obvious that he has never done this before.

My heart aches for this man and finally I say, "Here, let me help." I reach for the condom and begin to place it on his member. As I touch it, it springs back to life. It grows, and grows, and grows. I am astonished. I blurt out, "Jesus, Donald, its monstrous. It has to be a full 10 inches. Do you know how well hung you are?”

His response is both charming and naïve. "No, I don't, I never had and opportunity to compare it with anyone else. Mary and I only had each other so she never could compare it to others on the market so to speak. It seemed to satisfy her, she used to refer to it as her 'Mr. Tally Whacker'. "

Smiling shyly, he takes me in his arms and stops any further questions by starting to kiss me. As I close my eyes and drift, my senses begin to take over and I feel myself being lowered on my back on the bed. Tenderly he begins exploring my body an inch at a time. He kisses my eyelids, my eyes, nose and gently nibbles at my ears. Slowly he licks his way down my neck and begins to work on my breasts. My nipples become erect and, as he continues to work, they become hard. I notice that my breathing is starting to become a little more rapid and begin to drift ever so gently on the smooth current of the river.

His tongue is like a gentle breeze caressing my body, so gentle, so light that I barely know it is there, but it is real because my body is responding as I begin to breathe a little faster.

He takes both of my hands in his and holds them by my side as if to tell me "please let me love you, relax, I don't want you to do anything." He kisses and licks his way down my stomach to my bellybutton and reams it until I think I am going insane. Ever so slowly he works his way down over my abdomen and begins to softly blow on the curls of my pubic mound. Almost involuntarily I slowly spread my knees further apart and he releases my hands. He slides his arms under my knees and extends them so that his palms are cupping the cheeks of my ass.

I am totally exposed to his tongue as it begins to slowly probe my vagina. Slowly he nibbles, bites and licks. I reach down and begin to pull and push at his head, trying to direct him but he ignores me, determined to give me pleasure in his way, not mine.

Every so subtly I feel myself caught up in a faster current. The blood in my veins seems to be flowing faster. My head pounds and there is a tingling in my limbs that I have not felt in a long, long time. He incessant tongue keeps probing and probing, it never stops moving.

Soon it discovers that special little leprechaun hiding in his cave at the top of my slit. Slowly the little fellow arises, wiping sleep from his eyes and emerges in the light of day. Ever so slowly he begins to get in the spirit and slowly begins to dance. As my emotions swirl and heighten the little man picks up the pace dancing to the music of the tongue swirling, probing, never stopping. My breathing becomes faster more ragged, the current in the river speeds up. The tingling in my limbs spreads.

Donald gently slides up my body, keeping his hands under my thighs and begins to kiss me on the lips, his tongue begins to probe my mouth and I can taste, for the first time in my life the salty taste of your own juices. I am totally, obscenely exposed to him, my knees raised and splayed apart and then I feel him beginning to slide into me. It is so easy, so smooth, and so gentle, that it seems unreal, but it is real.

As he penetrates me to my very core I appreciate his size. I feel engorged, stuffed, and he continues to penetrate past my cervix and into the mouth of my womb. He penetrates to the very center of my being and he still penetrates into, my soul.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he begins the ageless dance of copulation. The pace begins to quicken and my pulse races. I sense that he is not going to last long but for once in my life it is all right, because I are almost there.

The blood rushes to my head and the current in the river takes me to the falls. As I approach I begin to moan more and more audibly, until I feel that I am shouting. Finally, at the peak of my orgasm I scream, "Donald, Donald, Donald…now…now…NOW…love me NOW."

In that instant Donald pours 3 years of pent-up love into the very core of my being and collapses on top of me.

Slowly he rolls off and laying on his back extending his left arm around my shoulders and drawing me near to him. I cradle my head on his chest and listen as his heart rate slowly returns to normal.

I drift, neither awake or asleep, in that blissful state of contentment that only a woman can feel when she perceives that she has not been screwed but rather has been made love to by a loving caring soulmate.

I reflect on the events of the day and all I have learned about this strange man. "Was it the best fuck you have ever had" I ponder. The answer is no, definitely not the best, although I can't remember who precisely was better, but, also, it was far form the worst. Strangely it was, by far, the most satisfying, and, I wonder why, until it suddenly dawns on me, that it was the most satisfying because this man really cares for me and is interested only in me, not him. What a strange thing!

As I drift I cannot help but do some mental math. She was 17…he was 19…30 years married…3 years dead…

He's 52. I'm 40… only 12 years. He is not old enough to be my father!

As I let my fingertips idly draw patterns on his stomach, my fingers wander farther and farther afield, until they are playing in all the remaining juices on his loins, cock and upper thighs. My awareness awakens a little and my hand snakes down to my lower belly and pussy and I find myself awash in his juices. My eyes open like saucers and in the dim light I look at his cock. All that is left is the latex ring half way up his semi inflated pole!