After I turned around and started back down her drive, Barbara waved and blew me a kiss. She’d done this every holiday since that Valentine’s Day back in 2002. It wasn’t the happiest of times back then, but together we’ve made it through that year and the years that followed. Jason probably wouldn’t approve, but Barbara does, and like she says, “that’s all that matters”. It’s a little hard to understand our relationship if one doesn’t know the whole story, so I’ll begin at the beginning.
Jason and I grew up together, well, not together, really. I mean, we weren’t next door neighbors or anything like that. Jason lived with his mother on a small farm in the country. I lived with my foster parents in a house in the city with three other foster kids.
My situation wasn’t of my choosing and once I got old enough to understand what was going on, it wasn’t one I particularly liked. Jeff and Marilyn were nice enough people and they took care of us kids pretty well, but I wasn’t very fond of either. Jeff worked for the city taking care of the roads during the day and worked on his model railroad at night. Marilyn was a stay at home “mom” to us, and was paid by the state for doing that. She did help out with the income by knitting baby sweaters she sold at a local second hand clothing store.
It wasn’t that I hated Jeff and Marilyn because I did like them as people; we just didn’t click, if you know what I mean, so I couldn’t think of them as a mom and dad. We were also very different in personality. I wanted excitement in my life. Jeff was a quiet man who taught me how to make models but never did anything exciting. Marilyn taught us how to be polite and made us study our school lessons every night, but there was never any of the love between us I saw between Jason and his mom.
Jason’s mom, Barbara, was a widow who stayed on their farm after her husband had a heart attack and died. They’d started raising goats and chickens for milk and eggs to sell right after they married, and Barbara kept up that business by herself.
I was always a little jealous of Jason because he had a real mom. Barbara made him toe the line about things, but she was always hugging him and telling him he was a great kid. I never got hugs and because I was a little on the headstrong side, Marilyn usually told me I was wrong and needed to change.
Jason and I met in the first grade and stayed friends through high school. I stayed over at his house on the weekend about once a month and loved those short visits. I’d help him clean out the goat barn or change the straw in the chicken nests, and once we were done, Barbara would check on how we did. Jason knew how to please her, so once she’d inspected our work, she’d give Jason a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then, she’d look at me and say, “Ricky, you deserve a hug too. Come here, Honey”. I’d get the same hug and the same kiss on the cheek.
I turned eighteen a month after we graduated and that meant I’d aged out of the foster care system. I needed to move out of Jeff and Marilyn’s house because the state would no longer pay them to take care of me. I found a job at a local fast food place that paid enough I could buy my own meals and a few clothes, but that was it. After looking for a month for a job that paid enough to pay for my own place, feed me, and let me buy a car, I gave up. There were plenty of good jobs around if you had a college education or some sort of skill, but I didn’t have either. It seemed like going to college would get me out of Jeff and Marilyn’s house and get me the degree I needed at the same time.
I knew this situation was coming because Jeff had explained it to me. He’d also insisted I take the SAT when that time came around. I’m reasonably smart and made a decent score, so getting into a college wasn’t much of a problem. The problem was money. Jeff and Marilyn weren’t obligated to pay for my education and couldn’t afford it even if they’d wanted to.
Jeff did some checking around and found out I could get a Pell grant because I was a foster child. The problem was a Pell grant wasn’t enough to pay all the expenses for a four year college. It would pay for almost everything for Nashville State Community College though, so I applied there and got accepted.
The college helped me fill out the paperwork for the Pell grant and also helped me find a tiny apartment within walking distance of campus. The night job I found washing dishes at a restaurant close to my apartment paid enough for my rent and I could eat at least one meal a day for free. In September I started in the associates degree program for mechanical engineering.
Jason didn’t like the idea of college and Barbara couldn’t afford to pay his way anyway. He also didn’t want to stay on their farm. The US Army recruiter told him the Army needed vehicle repair technicians and said the Army would train him and he’d get paid while learning a skill he could use as a civilian. Jason signed up and left for basic training the same month I left for Nashville State Community College.
Jason and I kept in touch through letters because I couldn’t afford to both eat and have a phone. After basic training at Camp Benning, Georgia, Jason went to track vehicle maintenance school at Fort Belvoir, Virginia. He didn’t like basic much, but really liked the maintenance school. He was looking forward to being assigned to a unit so he could do what he’d been taught.
Jason got that assignment just before Christmas in 2000 and also got a two week leave. He came home on the twenty-third and drove to Nashville to see me and ask if I wanted to spend Christmas with him and Barbara. I really didn’t have anywhere else to go but I did have to work the day after, so I said I’d spend Christmas day with them if he’d come get me and then take me back.
That Christmas day was the best I’d ever had. Jeff and Marilyn had made sure we got to celebrate Christmas. They always had a Christmas tree and they bought us foster kids some presents, but there wasn’t the feeling of really belonging. With Jason and Barbara, it felt like I was one of the family.
Barbara had made a Christmas dinner with enough food to feed a dozen people, and after eating, we sat down in their living room. Jason and Barbara exchanged gifts and after opening hers, Barbara picked up another package from under their tree.
“This one says, ‘To Ricky, From Santa’. That must be you, Ricky.”
I suppose at one time or another I’d written Jason that I wanted a better scientific calculator but couldn’t afford one. Mine was the one I’d used in high school, but it didn’t do some of the things I needed for my college classes so I did some of the math on the calculator and did the rest by hand. That’s what was in the package. It was a used one, but everything still worked. I looked up at Barbara.
“Mrs. Wilton, you didn’t need to do this.”
She just smiled.
“I found it at the thrift store in town. It seemed to work and it didn’t cost that much and Jason said you needed one. Besides, I couldn’t let one of my men have Christmas without a Christmas present.”
I have to tell you that I got sort of choked up then. Marilyn had called me by my name and she had sometimes called me stubborn, but she’d never said anything that might lead me to believe she felt anything for me. Barbara had called me “one of her men”.
I looked up at Barbara.
“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t get you anything.”
“I didn’t expect you to. Just having you here with us is enough, Ricky. It’s like it used to be before both of you grew up and left home. That makes me feel good, and that’s all that matters to me.”
The day after New Year’s Day, Jason went back to his new unit as a track vehicle repairman. His letters told me he was happy with his new job but didn’t like all the regulations. He was happy he had only three more years to go before he could become a civilian again. My letters told him how much I had to study but that I was happy to be learning something useful.
Spring came and went, and since I didn’t have school, I spent the summer working two jobs. Jason spent the summer in another Army school learning more about repairing track vehicles. He wrote that he’d probably try to find a job with a construction equipment dealer when he got out of the Army.
I was sitting in an advanced calculus class on the morning of September 11 when another teacher burst into the classroom gasping for breath.
“Somebody flew an airplane into an office building in New York. It’s all over the television…every station”.
The classroom quickly emptied as the teacher and all the students ran out to find the nearest television set. I ended up in a hallway of the building with a bunch of people huddled around another student with a portable radio. It wasn’t just one plane and one office building. It was both of the twin towers of the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and another plane that crashed into a field.
Some of the girls were crying. Most of us just sat there dumbfounded. How could this have happened? This was The United States, not some backward third-world country where there was fighting all the time.
That night, on the small television I’d bought second hand that summer, I watched the planes flying into the towers and then the buildings collapsing as people ran for their lives through the dust. The news said it was Al-Qaeda terrorists that commandeered four airliners. Three hit their intended targets. The plane that crashed was taken over by the passengers before it could get to its target. Since the crew was dead and nobody else could fly the plane, it crashed in Pennsylvania.
I saw the rubble where the World Trade Center had been. I saw hole in the side of the Pentagon. I saw the President saying the terrorists would be punished. It was a bad time. I didn’t think it could get worse, but it did.
Though he usually wrote me every couple of weeks, it was two months later I got the next letter from Jason. His unit had been mobilized within hours of the attack and had been confined with no outside communication allowed for almost a week. After that, they’d been loaded onto planes and flown to Saudi Arabia and were not allowed any communication of any type for another two weeks. He couldn’t tell me where he went after that, but he said I’d see it on the news.
That was the last letter I got from Jason. It had taken almost two weeks for his letter to get me, and I’d already seen the suicide bomber that crashed the truck through the gate into the Army compound. The truck blew up in the middle of a tank maintenance area. I hoped for the best, but that wasn’t to be.
Barbara came and picked me up for the funeral. She seemed to have come to grips with Jason’s death pretty well. She didn’t say much on the way back to her house, but at least she wasn’t crying or anything like that. I was glad of that because if she’d started crying, I would have too.
Barbara was pretty calm and collected through the funeral. She had tears in her eyes as the soldier in dress uniform handed her the folded flag, then stood at attention and saluted her. Her hand was trembling in mine when she walked to the casket and placed a single white rose on the top. Then, she turned to me, handed me her car keys and said, “Ricky, I don’t think I can drive us home. Would you take us?”
It was when we walked through the door of her house that Barbara fell apart. One minute she was fine. The next, she was hanging on my shoulder and sobbing her heart out. I didn’t know how to comfort her, so I just held her close and let her cry. I’m not ashamed to say I was crying too.
It was about half an hour before she finally stopped. She gently pushed back a little, wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, and looked up at me.
“Ricky, I’m sorry about that, but I didn’t have anybody else I trust enough to let all that out with except you. Thank you for being here for me.”
“Don’t be sorry. I don’t have anybody either so I understand. You can cry on my shoulder any time you want.”
Barbara gently pulled my hands from around her waist and smiled.
“I’m so glad you think that. Up until today, I thought I’d probably be alone in the world. Now, I don’t think I will be.”
I don’t know why I did it, but it seemed like something I should do. I put my arms around Barbara, hugged her and said, “Mrs. Wilton, as long as I’m alive, you’ll never be alone.”
She smiled again.
“I might just hold you to that. Now, I’ll make us something to eat. I can’t send one of my men back to college on an empty stomach.”
She drove me back to Nashville that evening, and just before I got out of the car, she handed me a box.
“I bought myself a cell phone a month ago, and they had a plan where you could get two for the price of one so I got another one for Jason for when he comes home. Since he…well, I want you to have it. You don’t have a phone at all, and you might need to call somebody, like if you get sick or if you just want to talk to somebody about something.”
I tried to resist, but Barbara insisted. I finally relented and took the box. She smiled then.
“I charged it up and everything. I’ll call you when I get home just to make sure it works. Would that be all right?”
“Sure. You can call me anytime.”
I was sitting down with my calculus book when she called. I wasn’t really up to solving equations involving complex integrals, so we talked for about half an hour. Barbara thanked me again about fifteen times, and I kept saying she didn't need to thank me for helping out a friend. Just before she hung up, she asked if I had any plans for Thanksgiving.
“I always fixed Thanksgiving dinner for Jason and myself. It’ll be just me this year and that will just remind me of him. Won’t you come and have dinner with me?”
I couldn’t tell her no, so I said I’d be happy to. Once she hung up, I realized I was happy. Just like the Christmas before, Barbara wanted me to be in her life and that felt really good. It felt so good I went back to my calculus book and finished my homework.
Barbara started calling me on Sunday afternoons after that. She’d always ask how I was doing in school and if I needed anything. I didn’t realize just how isolated from everything and everybody I’d kept myself until she started those calls. I didn’t really have any friends at school or at work. I just went to class or to work and then came home and studied. Weekends were just more study and an extra shift at the restaurant if I could get it. I started looking forward to her phone calls.
She called the Sunday before Thanksgiving to ask if I’d mind if she picked me up on Wednesday afternoon instead of Thanksgiving morning.
“I usually start my turkey roasting about six so it’ll be done by about two. If I pick you up on Thursday morning, it’ll be after five before we can eat. I’ll make up Jason’s bed for you to sleep in.”
I glanced at my work schedule on the wall beside the table I used as a desk. I was scheduled to work Wednesday night, but I thought I could probably talk my way out of that.
“Sure, Wednesday afternoon will be fine. What time?”
I was waiting at the curb at two on Wednesday afternoon when Barbara drove up. I tossed my duffelbag with a change of clothes and shaving kit into her back seat and then got in the front.
Barbara didn’t say much until we got out of the Nashville traffic, but once we did, she started telling me about what we were having for dinner.
“We’ll have turkey, of course, and I hope you like corn bread dressing. That’s what I always fix, oh, and sweet potatoes and creamed peas. I got some rolls at the grocery store that I’ll stick in the oven to finish baking, and I made a pumpkin pie this morning. How does that sound?”
I said it sounded like I was going to eat myself into a coma and she laughed.
“I know, but holidays are special and should make you happy. That means eating too much is a good thing because it does make you feel happy. Being happy is all that matters.”
It felt a little odd to put my things in Jason’s room. Barbara hadn’t changed anything about it that I could see, so it was sort of like I was visiting again except Jason wasn’t there. It did make me smile to see the pictures of us both she kept in the hall.
After the dinner she fixed for us, we watched a movie on TV. When it was over, Barbara said she was going to get ready for bed and she’d tell me when she was done in the bathroom. I sat on the couch while she did whatever it was she did and started watching the re-run of an old cop show. About half way through that show, Barbara came into the living room to tell me she was done. I took a leak and then went to Jason’s old room. It wasn’t easy to fall asleep. All the things Jason and I had done when I came to visit kept coming back to me.
I woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee and frying bacon. After dressing, I went into the kitchen and found Barbara in her usual jeans and shirt standing over the stove. She smiled.
“How do you like your eggs, over easy or sunny side up? I always want my men to have a good breakfast on Thanksgiving since we’ll be eating dinner late.”
I grinned back at her. She’d called me “one of her men” again, just like I was really one of the family. Unless you grew up like I did, you can’t imagine how great that feels.
I helped Barbara with the farm chores that had to be done so she could finish up early. When we finished, she said we’d better get ready for dinner. I changed into the best clothes I had which meant a clean pair of jeans and a well-worn white shirt. Barbara changed into a dress that hugged her curves and reminded me that she was a woman instead of just Jason’s mom. It felt a little odd to think of her that way, but I did. I also decided she was pretty when she fixed her hair and put on some makeup. That day was the first time I’d ever seen her do that.
Thanksgiving dinner was all Barbara had promised and then some. The turkey was great, the dressing fabulous, the creamed peas smooth and tender, and the sweet potatoes were smothered in brown sugar and butter. By the time she brought out her pumpkin pie, I was already stuffed. It would have been rude to refuse that pie and also my loss. She served me a wide wedge drowning in a mountain of whipped cream that I couldn’t resist.
All day, I’d been waiting for Barbara to say something about Jason, but that didn’t come until we were sitting on the couch after dinner. She asked if I was full enough. I just laughed and said if I moved too fast, I’d probably explode. Barbara laughed back, but then her face turned first serious, then sad.
“I just wish Jason could have been here.”
“I know. I miss him too.”
“Sometimes, late at night, I think I hear him in his room. I always go to check, but of course he’s not there. Does that make me crazy?”
“No. You just miss him like I do. I had a hard time falling asleep last night because I kept remembering all the things we used to do here.”
Barbara smiled a little.
“Yes, for a city boy, you took to country life pretty fast. My Bobby, he was my husband, my Bobby was like that. He grew up in the city but thought he wanted to be a farmer. I was raised on a farm, so I knew how things should be done. Bobby was pretty hardheaded about doing things his way, but once I showed him how my way was better, he started listening. By the time Jason was born, it was like he’d been a farmer all his life.
“Bobby hoped Jason would like living on the farm and continue to run it when he couldn’t. Jason seemed to like raising goats and chickens. I don’t know what possessed him to join the Army because there was enough income here for us both. If he’d just stayed home he wouldn’t have…wouldn’t have…Oh, Ricky, I miss him so much.”
With that, Barbara reached out for me. When I moved to sit beside her, she sagged into my arms and began to cry.
Her tears weren’t the anguished wails I’d heard after the funeral. They were tears of sadness, but of sadness over what she’d finally accepted. After a few minutes, Barbara stopped crying, looked up at me, and then kissed me on the cheek.
“At least I have one of my men still with me.”
“I do have to go back”, I said as gently as I could.
“I know, but you’re here now when I need you. That’s all that matters.”
Barbara drove me back to Nashville the next morning, and surprised me by giving me a hug and another kiss on the cheek as we stood at the door to my little apartment. She then stroked my cheek and said she’d love to have me come for Christmas dinner if I could make it. I was still feeling her soft kiss on my cheek when she drove away.
Christmas was about the same as Thanksgiving. That Christmas I did buy her a present. It wasn’t much because I couldn’t afford much, but she said she loved the necklace. I really liked the backpack she gave me. She’d asked why all the students had them when she took me back after Thanksgiving. I said I’d have one too if I could afford one because it was an easy way to carry books and other stuff to classes.
Barbara didn’t cry on my shoulder that Christmas, and she didn’t on New Year’s Eve either. She just said she missed Jason, but was happy I was there. I figured she had come to grips with her loss and was getting on with her life. I was happy for her to be able to do that. I couldn’t imagine what losing your only child must feel like.
It’s a long time between holidays after New Year’s Eve, so I didn’t see Barbara for a while. We continued our Sunday evening phone calls though. I think Barbara just liked having somebody to talk to. I really liked talking to her as well. I didn’t have the time or the money for a girlfriend, so I’d never tried to meet any of the girls on campus. Barbara sort of became the girlfriend I didn’t have. We just talked about what we’d done during the week and how we were feeling, but talking with Barbara was a welcome break from work and study.
During our call the Sunday before Valentine’s Day, Barbara asked if I was going to have to work on Valentine’s Day. As it happened, I didn’t, so I said I was off. She sounded as if she was almost pleading when she asked if I’d come visit her.
“I know it isn’t a real holiday, but I’d like to have you come anyway. Please say you will.”
Barbara picked me up after my classes the day before Valentine’s day. She seemed a little different somehow. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but she talked a lot more than on our drives in the past. She chattered away about the three baby goats she had already and how cute they were and about how she’d baked a special cake for us. She talked about how she was going to start putting “organically grown” on her egg cartons so they’d sell at a higher price. She talked so much I had the feeling she was nervous about something though I couldn’t tell what that might be.
The afternoon was pretty normal for my visits. I helped Barbara do the chores she had to do and then we sat down to the dinner she made. After eating, she cleared the table and then asked if I’d like to watch a movie on TV. We ended up on her couch watching an old western.
The movie ended at almost nine, and Barbara said she was going to get ready for bed. Always before, she had waited until ten to do that, but I just figured she was tired. I stayed on the couch and watched the news while she was in the bathroom. She came out during the weather report, but I didn’t watch the weather. I couldn’t.
Up until that point in my life, Barbara had just been Mrs. Wilton, Jason’s mother. She usually dressed in loose jeans and a loose shirt, or in a nice dress when I visited during the holidays. I’d noticed that she looked really nice when she dressed up, but hadn’t thought much more about it.
That night, she had on a short robe that hugged some really nice curves and was open enough in the front I could see a little cleavage. I couldn’t tell what she wore under that robe, but it must not have been much because her legs were bare. They were really nice legs too. She laughed when she saw me staring.
“Ricky, what’s wrong. You look like you’ve never seen me before.”
“Well I…I’ve seen you, but…well…I haven’t seen you like this.”
“It’s just a robe. Is there something wrong with that?”
“No, it’s just that I didn’t expect it.”
“Well, now you can say you’ve seen an old woman in her bathrobe.”
I knew it wasn’t the right thing to say, but it just came out of my mouth.
“You don’t look old.”
“Ricky, I’m forty-seven. You must think that’s old.”
“No, forty-seven isn’t old.”
“Well, if I don’t look old, how do I look?”
“I don’t think it would be right for me to tell you that.”
She crossed the room and sat down on the couch beside me.
“Ricky, you can tell me anything and I won’t be offended. If you think I’m fat or ugly, you can tell me.”
“You’re not fat and you’re not ugly. You’re…”
I had to pause then because Barbara had crossed her legs and her robe had fallen open a little. I was looking at a very smooth inner thigh just then and that sort of took away my ability to do anything else. Her voice brought me back to what I was going to say.
“Go ahead. What am I?”
“Well, you’re…you’re pretty sexy.”
She reached out, put her hand on mine, and squeezed it gently.
“Ricky, that’s about the nicest thing you could ever say to me. It makes me feel like I’m young again. I haven’t felt that way for a long, long time, not since my Bobby passed away.”
She’d touched me before, but that touch was different, and between that and the way her robe fell open when she leaned over was giving me thoughts I shouldn’t have been having. After dragging my eyes away from the deep, soft cleavage she’d accidentally revealed, I said she probably had heard that from a lot of men. She stroked her hand up my arm and then back down. Her voice got a little lower and a lot softer.
“No, Ricky, I haven’t. A widow with a child is a woman no man wants. I spent the first two years after Bobbie died finding that out. I’d meet a man I liked and who seemed to like me, but as soon as I told him about Jason, he’d just drift away from me. After that two years, I stopped looking. I still had Jason to take care of, and that helped. Jason always said I was pretty, but that’s not the same. A woman needs to feel like she’s someone a man would want…you know…that way. I need to feel that way again. That’s why I dressed this way.”
I’d never given a thought to a woman needing to think men found her desirable. Since Barbara was Jason’s mom, I’d never looked at her that way, but after the way she was dressed and the way she’d touched my hand, I realized she was a very desirable woman. I didn’t know if it would be right to tell her that, but it’s what she seemed to want to hear and I wanted to make her feel good about herself.
“Mrs. Wilton, I think those men missed out on something when they didn’t stay around. If I’d been one of them, I'd sure have stayed.”
Barbara got a strange look on her face, like she was thinking about something. A few seconds later, she smiled.
“You’re the only man I have left, Ricky. What if I said I wanted you to show me that you really mean that?”
“I’m not sure how I’d do that, Mrs. Wilton. It’s just something I think.”
Barbara scooted closer to me and put her hands on my shoulders.
“You could start by kissing me.”
Well, to say I was pretty shocked would be an understatement. I’d known Barbara for years and she’d never done anything like this before. I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything.
“I guess that means you don’t want to. I should have known better and I’m sorry. It’s just that I need to feel wanted and after you went away to college and then came back for Christmas, I saw you as a man instead of a boy. Jason would never have understood, so I didn’t do anything about it. Now that he’s…I just thought…I guess I thought wrong.”
I couldn’t let her feel this way, so I tried to console her.
“Mrs. Wilton, it isn’t that I don’t want to. I just never have before and you might be disappointed.”
“Is that all? Kissing isn’t hard. Let me show you.”
For the first couple of seconds after her lips touched mine, I couldn’t move. Well, most of me couldn’t move. My cock moved a lot. It moved enough it was starting to push out the front of my jeans.
Barbara’s lips were so soft and so…I still can’t find the right words to describe it for the life of me. She softly mouthed my lips and then licked the bottom one. She pulled away then and whispered, “Ricky, just do what I just did”.
The second time she put her lips to mine, I tried, and my cock grew some more. Barbara’s mouth opened a little and I felt her tongue on my upper lip this time, so I did the same thing. The only thing was, instead of touching her upper lip, my tongue touched hers. Barbara made a little moaning sound and then pushed her tongue inside my mouth. I thought my cock was going to rip out the zipper of my jeans.
Barbara pulled away from me then and smiled.
“See, that’s all there is to kissing. Did you like it?”
All I could say was, “I didn’t know it could be like that.”
Barbara smiled, and her voice got a little lower and softer..
“I thought it was wonderful. I’m going to do it again.”
In trying to do what Barbara was doing, our tongues sort of got tangled up. She moaned again and I felt her hand move from my shoulder to my chest, then to my belly, and then to the front of my jeans. She was in the process of unbuckling my belt when I stopped her.
“Mrs. Wilton, I’m not sure we should be doing this.”
“Why? I want to. Ricky, I want to do this more than anything I’ve wanted for a long time.”
“Well, you’re Jason’s mother and…”
“And I’m also a woman and you’re a man.”
She stroked my rigid cock through my jeans.
“This part of you wants to, I think.”
I was getting ready to get up and go to Jason’s bedroom when she finished unbuckling my belt. I was still deciding how to do that without making Barbara sad again when she unzipped the zipper and pushed her hand inside. When she touched my cock, I forgot all about doing anything.
Barbara leaned forward and started kissing me again. This time, I just let things happen and did my best to kiss her back. I think it was when she put her hand inside my underwear and circled my cock with her hand I decided I wanted her as much as she wanted me.
Barbara pulled back and smiled.
“That’s better. Now, it’s your turn. Do you know what to do?”
“I think so, but I’ve never-“
Barbara put her finger to my lips.
“Just do what I show you.”
She let my cock go long enough to untie the belt of her robe and take it off. I hadn’t realized it, but that robe was the only thing Barbara had on. Her breasts swayed a little when she slipped the robe from her shoulders. Once it was draped over the arm of the couch, she took my hand and put it on her right breast.
“I didn’t put on anything but my robe. I hope you don’t mind. Just stroke softly for a while. I’ll show you what to do next.”
“A while” meant several minutes of Barbara kissing me again, several minutes of my hands feeling the softest and most erotic thing I’d ever felt, and several minutes of Barbara teasing my cock until it was standing straight and swollen tight. When I lurched into her hand after one little squeeze, she whispered, “Now, my nipples, Ricky…gently at first…yes…just like that.”
Barbara was starting to moan a lot after a little of that, and I felt like moaning too. She nibbled from my mouth to my ear and whispered, “Let’s get into my bed now.”
I didn’t undress Barbara because she was already naked, but she undressed me. Once she had my clothes off, she pulled the spread, blankets, and sheet down to the foot of her bed and then eased down on her back and patted the mattress beside her.
“Come here, Ricky, and I’ll show you what comes next.”
As soon as I was beside her, Barbara put her thigh over mine, started stroking my cock again, and whispered, “Kiss my nipples, Ricky. I like that a lot.”
Both her nipples were stiff and covered with little ridges, and when I kissed the left one, Barbara shuddered a little.
“Oh, Ricky. It feels so good to feel that again. Use your tongue and then suck them a little.”
Licking her nipple caused Barbara to shudder again. Sucking it gently caused her to thrust her hips at me and moan. I felt soft hair against my thigh and then the movement of Barbara’s hips as she rubbed herself against my leg. After a few moments, she gently took my hand and pulled it between us.
“Just stroke lightly, Ricky. It’ll make me ready for you.”
I’d thought her breasts were soft, but the lips under that hair were softer. I stroked up and down a few times before Barbara opened her thighs a little. My fingertip slipped between her lips and into a rippled, slippery wetness. She moaned, “Oh yes…down a little more and then inside me.”
It took a little feeling around and some guiding on Barbara’s part, but finally, my finger slipped inside her entrance. Barbara moaned and started stroking my cock a little faster.
“In and out now, Bobby. In and out.”
Now, I wasn’t completely ignorant about sex. Jeff had explained things to me, but what he told me wasn’t at all what was happening. He just told me the mechanics and said I’d know when the time was right because the woman would feel slippery. She was supposed to be lying on her back then and I was supposed to kneel between her legs and then insert my cock and stroke away.
Barbara was already slippery. The problem was she was almost on top of me. I tried to push her onto her back, but she wouldn’t let me. She kissed me and took my breath away, then whispered, “Let me do this Ricky.”.
When Barbara straddled me, her breasts hung down just over my face so I kissed the nearest nipple. Barbara moaned and shuddered, then reached between us and grabbed my cock. She moved it around between her slippery lips for a few seconds and then I felt it slipping inside her.
I’d always jacked off when I felt the need and that felt great. Barbara’s hand stroking my cock had felt a lot better. Feeling my cock sliding inside her slippery passage was incredible. She didn’t do it quickly and she didn’t do it all at once. She pushed down and I felt my cock slide inside her a little. Then she raised back up, took a breath, and pushed down again. When my cock pushed against a tight spot, she raised back up, took a deep breath, and then pushed down harder while moving her hips around. I felt my cock head get squeezed a little and then swell back up as Barbara pushed her body down even further. After one more push, she was sitting on my thighs with my cock buried inside her, and she had her eyes closed.
After a little moan and another breath, Barbara began lifting and then lowering her body over my cock. Her rhythm was slow and regular, and I was feeling every little ripple inside her massaging my cock. After a while, she bent down enough her right nipple brushed my lips. I opened my mouth and sucked the stiff nub in, then licked the tip. Barbara’s hips jerked and drove my cock inside her a little deeper, and the moan she made was a lot louder than before.
The feeling of Barbara’s passage massaging my cock and her nipples against my face were so intense I couldn’t stop what was happening to me. I was starting to lose control and tried to slow her down.
“Mrs. Wilton, I can’t stop.”
“Then don’t”, she panted as she sped up her strokes a little.
In seconds, I felt the surge building in my belly, and a few seconds later, I groaned as seed raced up through my cock and inside Barbara. I instinctively rammed my cock up into her stroke three times before I was done. Barbara moaned each time.
I expected her to stop then, but she didn’t. She kept riding my cock just as if nothing had happened. At that time of my life, I could recover pretty quickly, and my cock never did really get soft. Barbara leaned down and kissed me, then whispered, “It’s my turn now. Just let me take us there.” That kiss, those words, and the massaging of my cock had it stiff and swollen again in just a few minutes.
Barbara didn’t change what she was doing for a while, but I thought she felt a little slipperier inside. Then, she slipped her fingers between us again and I felt her rubbing at the top of her lips. A little while after that, she started to pant, and she pushed her breasts into my face again.
“Suck my nipples, Ricky…hard. I’m almost there.”
It’s odd how doing that got me almost there too, but it did. As I sucked her nipples as hard as I could, Barbara sped up her strokes and I felt the hand between us moving faster too. As for me, I’d given up any thoughts of control and was meeting her strokes half way.
It didn’t take long after that before Barbara started to rock her hips rapidly over my cock. She gasped, then moaned, then gasped again.
“Oh, Ricky, now Honey, now.”
I sort of lost track of what happened next because we were both having an orgasm at the same time. I remember ramming my cock up inside Barbara as fast as I could to keep up with her rocking hips and then her cry as she ground her lips into the base of my cock and started to shake. I remember the feeling of cumming again. I remember Barbara collapsing on my chest a little later. I remember lying there with her on top of me until my cock slipped out of her. I remember her kissing me and whispering, “Thank you Ricky”, just before she rolled to the side, put her arms around me and pulled me up tight against her.
I woke up the next morning with Barbara looking at me and smiling.
“Good morning, Ricky. Did you sleep well?”
I yawned and stretched, and touched Barbara’s bare hip in the process. She giggled.
“What would you like for breakfast…ham and eggs…”, she stroked my cock a few times, “or me?”
I had both, Barbara first and then the ham and eggs she fixed while humming to herself. She was happier than I’d ever seen her, and I was pretty happy too. We both continued to be happy all day long. Barbara fixed lunch and then we made love again. This time, she just laid back and said “Just do what you did this morning”. I have to admit she did help some. I didn’t know a woman’s fingernails digging into my ass cheeks could make me cum harder, but they did. We were both gasping for breath after that. We both did a lot of gasping that night too.
Barbara drove me back to Nashville the next morning. I had to work days that day, so we didn’t have time to do anything except dress, eat, and make the drive. She stopped her car about a block from my apartment, turned to me and smiled.
“Ricky, you can’t imagine how I feel right now. I found something I thought I’d never feel again. I know it’s being selfish, but I need to keep feeling that. I need to keep feeling that with you. I hope you feel the same way, but if you don’t, I’ll understand.”
What do you say to a woman who says something like that? I didn’t know either, but I tried.
“Mrs. Wilton I-“
“I think you should call me Barbara now.”
“Barbara, I want to, but where would it lead?”
“It doesn’t have to lead anywhere, Ricky. It just has to make us both feel good. You do feel good, don’t you?”
“Well, yes. I feel great.”
“Then that’s all that matters right now. I know you’ll probably find a girl one of these days and fall in love and I’ll lose you, but for right now, I need to have you make me feel like this as often as we can get together.”
Well, getting together meant about once a month until school was out. I couldn’t miss work or school so we had to plan things around both schedules. Once school was out, all we had to plan around was work, and that problem was solved when I found a different job. It was still night work, but it was forty hours a week and paid enough to let me save enough for tuition and books at MTSU the next semester. It also let me have weekends to do what I wanted, and that meant I could stay at Barbara’s three nights a week.
For the next two years, I saw Barbara every weekend. After the first couple of months, we didn’t make love quite as much. It was great just being with her. The times we did end up writhing out our orgasms on her bed and then laying there gasping until we could breathe normally again were fantastic.
I graduated from MTSU in June of 2004 and got a job with an engineering firm in Nashville. I also met Beverly, another engineer at the firm. As Barbara had predicted, we fell in love and were married a year later. I didn’t think it was right to keep Barbara a secret, so when I proposed, I told everything to Beverly before I let her say yes or no. She listened without saying anything until I finished, then asked the question I’d prepared to answer.
“So, are you going to keep seeing Barbara?”
“Not if you say you’ll marry me.”
“That sounds a little cruel to me. You sleep with the woman for three years and then just stop?”
“Well, I don’t think it would be right to do anything else.”
“I need to meet her before I give you an answer.”
To this day, I don’t know what they talked about because neither one will tell me. All I know is Beverly came out of Barbara’s house smiling. She didn’t say anything until I parked in front of her apartment. Then she turned to me and touched my hand.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, but with one condition. Barbara is a wonderful woman and after today, I think we’re going to be great friends. She loves you, Ricky, not like I love you, but she loves you. I can’t be the one who breaks her heart, so I want you to keep seeing her when she needs you. Before you say no, I can’t be jealous of a woman who just needs to be loved, and she’d old enough she’s not a threat to me. She doesn’t have anybody else except you and I can’t change that so I won’t try.”
“You want me to keep seeing Barbara?”
“Not every weekend, but yes.”
“And you won’t be jealous.”
“If you’re as easily aroused as she hinted, I’ll welcome the rest.”
I didn’t see Barbara again for a few months after the wedding. She did come to the wedding, wished us both well, and gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She also whispered something to Beverly that Beverly won’t tell me. After that, Beverly and I were pretty busy with a honeymoon and then getting to know each other. Then one day when we were driving home from work, Beverly said she’d gotten a call from Barbara.
“She just wanted to know how we’re doing and if we needed anything.”
“What did you tell her?”
“I said we were doing fine and the only thing we needed was for you to visit her next week.”
“Next week? Isn’t that the week you have to fly to Orlando?”
“Yep, so you have Barbara all to yourself for five days.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“As long as you save something for me when I get home I am.”
That was a lot of years and three kids ago. Barbara is sort of their grandmother because I don’t have a real mother, and she loves baby sitting them if Beverly and I both have to go somewhere. The kids love going to the farm and Barbara tells me my oldest son seems to really like the goats. She’s already planning on him spending next summer with her.
Beverly loves Barbara like a sister even though there’s a big difference in their ages. I suppose that’s because Beverly never had a sister. They tell each other everything and talk a lot on the phone. They won’t tell me what they talk about, but given what I’ve experienced with them both, I think they’re talking about me at least some of the time.
Barbara and I still see each other from time to time, not as often now as before, but we still do. Barbara is sixty-three now, but she’s still a wonderful lover. She’s never asked for more than to be loved. She says that being loved is all that matters. Beverly is happy that she can make Barbara happy.
As for me, I’m the happiest guy in the world. I grew up in a household with no love and dreamed of what it would be like to have a loving mother. I didn’t get that loving mother, but I ended up loving and being loved by two wonderful and understanding women. Some might call that relationship weird. Some might call it abnormal. We just think it brings us all closer together and makes us happy. After all, as Barbara says, that’s all that matters.