The Sweet Water of the Fountain

Avery lay on his back. Jolene was dozing on her side next to him. Her head rested in the space between the ball of his shoulder and pectoral muscle, a kind of pillow, improvised years before. He searched under the covers, and found his discarded pajama bottoms. He draped them over his bare groin, lest the final, tardy drops of fluid leak onto the top sheet.

He knew Jolene hated it when he covered himself that way while she stayed completely nude. He could never understand why she thought it important that the remnants of their love-making drain out of him uncontrolled to be smeared on the sheets while they slept. It was most unpleasant. He didn't know how to tell her.

"Perhaps she wants proof in the morning," he thought, "like a golfer leaving a divot."

Ever since they were first a couple, and through marriage—breaking into its third decade—Avery had always laid on his back after love-making with Jolene nestling herself alongside him, her head resting in that space on his chest. They never spoke during the after-time. He felt the familiar softness of her breast nuzzled to his ribcage. He'd felt it every time—hundreds of times. Only little things had changed over the years.

For example, Jolene used to idly tease and pinch his nipple as they lay together sorting their thoughts. He really missed that. He wished he had the courage to tell her that he wished that she would go back to doing it, and perhaps suck the bud between her lips, as he did to hers during foreplay. His maneuver didn't seem to please her very much any more. So, he didn't tell her his secret wish. It wouldn't have been right to tell her—too one-way and there was also a risk of derision.

He did continue with breast play during the arousal phase, just in case...

Another thing that had changed was that in the old days he would have put up with the gooey little mess. Jolene's nipple ploys would get him going again and before long they were thrashing about in the sheets anew—spare semen be damned. In youth, lovers are never ready for sleep.

One thing that hadn't changed much was Jolene. She still wore her chestnut hair long, over her shoulders, like she did when Avery had first seen her walking across the quad on the campus. Most women would have cut their hair into a shorter style by the time they reached Jolene's age. She didn't—she just kept it long.

The years brought a few crevices and creases in her face, but no one seemed to notice that. She was taller than most women, but not as tall as Avery. To most it seemed like she could fit into the same clothes the she wore in college. There were some lumps and extra bumps that most did not see, but Avery knew where they were. He knew them all.

"I love you, Avery," she whispered. He thought she'd fallen asleep.

"I love you, too," Avery answered back. He meant it; Avery knew she did, too.

It was the signal that in a few seconds she would dismount her old makeshift pillow, taking her soft breast with her, and turn over on her other side and drift off to sleep. As always, Avery would lie still for a short while longer, reviewing his recollections as they became thoughts.

He supposed that it truly was love-making after all these years. As it matures, intimacy tames and neither climax nor thrills matter as much as they once did. It had taken decades for the quest to fade to contentment, he told himself as he stared into the darkness. It was only important to achieve intimacy. It was important to do so on a regular, if not frequent, basis.

Sleep was important, too. There was no reason to neglect either need. A check mark on the mental calendar, a good night's rest—no complaints registered by either party.

Avery had, of course, begun their intimate contact in the usual way. He was always quite careful to allow for a full period of arousal. He educated himself on the subject on many and varied websites which, he judged, offered sage advice.

He knew she needed time; he was familiar with the 'plateau'. He reviewed the process just gone by in mental playback.

She was in bed first. The lights were out. He was quiet when he came into the room. If she had `been already asleep he wouldn't have wished to wake her. If not, she would be waiting for him.

He shed his clothes and crept into the master bathroom, brushing his teeth and donning his pajama bottoms. Through the darkness, he could make out the shadow of her motionless form under the covers.

He could sense that Jolene was awake when he slipped into bed beside her. It was the way she was breathing and how she'd moved to the center of the bed to allow just enough room for him. She was lying on her side with her back to him, as always.

He lay on his back for a few seconds, not wishing to appear presumptive. Then he turned on his side, casually touched her hip. If she chose, she could have pretended not to notice him.

She didn't. Jolene moved backwards and spooned herself against him, canceling any doubt. His hand rested on her flank again for a longer stay—a confirmation. She turned to face him.

Avery always worked top to bottom. He began with a kiss. First came kissing, then breast play, a slow and careful route to the vulva. It was the correct way to go about it. He was always careful to be patient with her.

Their lips met in a tender kiss. He let it become more demanding. After a minute or so he pushed his tongue through her lips. She always liked that. She pushed back and the game was on.

At first he spread his hand over a breast, through the fabric of her nightie. He tested the stiffness of the nipple. There it was—very nice. It was important to him to find her nipple hardened. It was, in fact, pleasing to the touch. More than that, it told him that she was in the process of arousing.

He always made sure that her acquiescence was borne of desire, not courtesy. He would never have been able to bear it if she submitted to be polite. He never detected she'd ever done that, but the fear of it never left him.

Her encouragement led to a caress of the soft roundness and then a return to the nipple. She sat up and pulled her nightie over her head. It always surprised Avery how good Jolene looked in those initiating moments. She appeared as a shadow in the darkness. Her feminine form was not very much changed from what so inspired him when they were first married.

He knew that she wasn't the same in full light, of course. It was amazing what darkness could do for a body. It must have been the reason that love-making was saved for the night. Was it cheating to allow the darkness to create the illusion or for him to accept the ruse? He shuttered his mind and reached around and pulled her down to him.

He held her back to his front and wrapped his arms around her. His hands closed over her nude breasts. He knew she wouldn't lie still for very long, but while she did he would do what he might to bring forth the remaining pleasure from the soft, roundness and the hard nipples.

He was gentle, stroking and lightly pinching; doing to them just as he would have had her do unto his own, if he could have asked her. He hoped that she liked it. He knew better than to expect passionate writhing or moans of pleasure. She didn't push him away.

Before too long, as was her custom, she disengaged and turned to face him. Her body was open to him. He debated for a few seconds if he should let his hand venture below. It was hard to be certain that she was ready. He knew that breast-play was over for the night but he kneaded them again for a few moments, just to reassure her that he still liked them. He hoped for a purr of contentment. It was not to be.

He felt her hands. They stroked him through his pajamas. She tugged on the elastic waistband. It was her signal to him to slip out of the sleepwear. She insisted on equality in nakedness. He rose up on his elbow and tugged them over his hip. He shrugged them down, out of the way where he could retrieve them later.

When he was finished taking care of his pajamas he turned back to her and they hugged. He knew she liked that. There was no kissing; no erotic noises. Only silence and two unclothed bodies pressed to one another, and an occasional hand stroking where it could reach—between the shoulder blades or on a thigh.

She was warm. After a while he clutched her bottom and pressed her against him hard. He measured her response. She opened a thigh and then closed it, capturing him between her flesh. It was a pleasant warmness and it seemed to excite her.

When he thought it was the right time he slipped his hand lower; a check her for wetness.

Everything was good. While he was stimulating her with his hand down there Jolene pushed up at his shoulder. He knew what that meant.

"She wants to take me in her mouth."

That part wasn't in his plan, but it happened often enough that Avery knew enough to allow for it. He shifted to his back. She nestled herself between his legs and bent her mouth down to take him in.

It felt nice, but he never let himself go all the way when Jolene did this to him. At his age, after all, a single eruption per night was all he could generate, and he knew Jolene would prefer him not to waste it. It would be alright for her to pleasure him around the edges.

When her jaw tired he would sense it and he would nudge her up his torso. She would straddle him so he could return the oral favor. It was the final phase of preparation. After that it would be a short time until she ripened, and then—entry.

Avery smiled to himself. A few minutes later he was atop her and she was guiding him in. He glanced at the clock. He would try to make it last longer than average this night. He thrust himself up and further into her.

It always took a minute or two of trial and error to find out what pleased Jolene on any single occasion. She usually liked it deep and slow. It was what Avery always tried first. Jolene was not the demonstrative kind of woman, but Avery could always tell if she was being pleased.

It was a sense that he had. Sometimes he wished that she would tell him, or scream out in orgasm or dig her nails into his back in ecstasy. They were far too old for that, he knew. This quiet intimacy was far better, he was sure. And he was certain that Jolene felt that way, too, for she never complained.

************

When they woke it was Saturday morning. They arose early. One of Jolene's nieces was getting married in a town at the far end of the state. It would take most of the morning to drive there. The wedding was set for one in the afternoon. Afterward, there would be a reception dinner. They decided to stay overnight at a nearby motel and drive home on Sunday morning.

Jolene got out of bed first and was already getting dressed when he stepped into the bathroom. He saw himself looking back at him in the mirror. He noted that he was getting rounder in the belly and the hairline was retreating almost day-by-day. Thankfully, he was taller than most men and that helped him with his spread, more or less.

"I'm not the only guy with this problem," he reminded himself.

There was always the co-worker comparison of notes in the coffee room at work. When a man reaches his fifties lies give way to confessions.

Avery was quick to finish his shower. As he toweled off he thought if they stepped on it they could stop for lunch at that place they used to enjoy at one of the lakes that they would pass on the way. He thought it was a nice idea.

"Hey, Jolene," he called out to the bedroom, "what do you think of having lunch at Ford's Landing?"

"What?" she yelled back.

Avery wasn't certain what Jolene meant by her response. It was possible that she didn't hear or understand him. The bathroom fan was running, after all. It could also have been a ploy that she sometimes used. She would feign incredulity to let him know that another of his ideas had come to naught. It was a clever way to say 'no'. It made Avery abandon the plan and that way she didn't have to explain herself. At least, that's the way Avery viewed it.

He was pretty sure that he'd yelled out loud enough for Jolene to hear him. He had to be one hundred percent certain. He put on his robe and walked into the bedroom.

"You know," he explained, "that restaurant on Lost Lake that we used to like."

"Oh, that one," she replied. "I don't think we'll have time. The wedding is at one, and we're not sure where the church is. Besides, I already made some sandwiches to eat on the way."

She gave him one of those 'nice try' looks and he started to turn away toward his own side of the room.

"Wait, don't go quite yet," she said. She turned her back to him. "Help me with the clasp on this necklace."

She lifted her hands to each side of her neck, with an end of the strand held tight by her fingers. Jolene was still in her slip and she smelled of bath powder. Avery stepped behind her to help with the necklace. He paused a second and stole a glance down her cleavage.

The delicate fingers securing the ends of the necklace reminded Avery of how she used to pinch his nipples when they were younger. He thought about that as he struggled for a second with the clasp. It would have been easier with his glasses on. With the clasp done he went to his own side of the room to get dressed.

Avery put on his underwear and then stole a glance at his wife from the other side of the bedroom. He turned just in time as she stretched her arms, and then the rest of her body upward as she let her dress cascade onto her form.

Avery didn't glance long. Jolene might have looked into her mirror at any second and caught him ogling her. That wouldn't do, so he fixed what he'd seen into his mind and went back to getting dressed.

"I always think of how it was," he thought to himself. "Those were good days."

It was true. There had been a time when Avery could make music on that long, slender body like a master. He could stroke it, caress it and draw his bow across her strings. She would sing her sweet, beautiful music.

Before long, her climax bounced into his hand like a tennis ball. At the right moment he tossed it in the air and served an ace. That was when he could please her and make her happy. It was in the days when they were younger and hadn't quite settled down. Avery admitted to himself that he never understood the process. Just as the kids went out on their own, he and Jolene coasted into a more restful existence.

"I'm going downstairs to pack up the sandwiches and wrap the wedding gift," Jolene told him.

She was already dressed. Avery was trying to get the knot in his tie just right.

"I'll be there in a minute or two," Avery called after her as she made her way to the stairs.

He looked at himself in the mirror. An unhappy man looked back at him, unsatisfied by memories.

"What have I got to complain about?" he asked himself. "Most guys don't even get that."

***************

It was going to be a long drive to the little town where the wedding was going to take place. They checked one last time to make certain that they had packed everything and the house was locked, and then they were on their way.

"I'll give you one of the sandwiches after we get on the interstate," she said. "It's early for lunch, but we didn't have breakfast."

Avery nodded. It would help kill the time. Jolene was chatting away about her niece's groom. Avery didn't really care. He'd spotted him at a family picnic, or two. The young man looked alright. Avery didn't know the niece much better, so he didn't consider it much of his business.

He almost sighed as Jolene prattled on. He stifled it just in time. It would have been a signal for her to keep quiet, and Avery hated those hours of silence more than he did her going on about a young man who was none of his business.

"What did you say his job was?" Avery butted in.

Jolene swiveled her head and gave him a look.

"You haven't heard a word I've been telling you," she complained. "He's a Civil Engineer, just like you. He just got his degree from State."

"Oh, yeah," Avery replied. "I did hear you say something about that."

It was a lie and Jolene had been correct. Avery hadn't heard her tell him.

"She probably told me about five miles back when I was trying to change lanes when we were going through that construction zone," he thought.

He knew that was a lie, too, if only to himself. The truth was that he had shut her out. He was thinking about other things. He decided to say no more, for fear of betraying his inattention even more than he had. They drove along in silence. Jolene tilted her seat back. He knew that she would probably drift off to sleep in a short while. He would be alone with his thoughts.

"Where do you think they'll honeymoon?" she asked in that dreamy way that made Avery wonder if she was thinking out loud, or expecting an answer.

"Probably Myrtle Beach or someplace like that," Avery answered. "Someplace warm with a beach."

"Mmmm," Jolene purred, "maybe they'll go to Virginia Beach, like we did."

"Could be," he said. "It's closer—probably less expensive."

He stole a couple of seconds from watching the road and glanced over at her. He thought, but couldn't be certain, that her eyes were closed. He wondered if it was the motion of the car that made her drowsy. Maybe she was remembering their honeymoon, so she could tell her niece of all the things the newlywed couple could do and what they could see see, as if they'd still be there after the passing of over thirty years.

"So, has he got a job?" he asked her.

She jerked her head up, as though she'd been dozing.

"Yes, I think so. My sister told me that he was starting a job at the State Highway Authority," Jolene said and then paused for a second. "Don't you dare corner him and talk shop."

Avery didn't answer. Jolene eased her head back down, hiding behind her sunglasses. He hadn't planned on talking shop at all with the young man. He told himself that he would, if he felt like it. He thought that Jolene should have given him enough credit to know better than to buttonhole a groom at his wedding to talk shop. He didn't see Jolene rouse herself again.

"I'll get you out a sandwich. I brought a napkin along so that you don't get mayonnaise on your dress trousers."

She smoothed a napkin over his right thigh and handed him the sandwich. She popped the top on a soft drink can and set it in the holder in the console between them.

"Are you going to be alright driving with one hand?" she asked.

Avery was already eating and nodded 'okay'. He looked over and saw that she was draping a napkin over her lap, as well. Avery was happy that she was. It was better that she was awake. They wouldn't have much to say while they were busy eating, but he felt less alone.

They were passing the interstate exit for Lost Lake. It reminded Avery that they could be making their way to the restaurant at Ford's Landing, rather than eating tuna sandwiches as they drove. He started to say something to her. He stopped himself. It would only stir up something to no good end. They passed the exit and neither of them mentioned it.

It had startled Avery when Jolene smoothed the napkin on his thigh. He hadn't expected it and he jumped a little. He was sure that she'd meant nothing by it, although he thought he might have seen a trace of a smirk on her face. If he had, it disappeared in an instant.

It was hard to admit. Avery found that he enjoyed Jolene's accidental goose on his leg. He stole a glance at her and saw she was still working on her half-a-sandwich and looking out the window at the hills in the distance. He drew a breath and was about to ask her why she never pinched his nipples when they were in bed anymore. He stopped himself just in time—she would have laughed at him. He asked himself about it, instead, as he drove.