Second Shift Night Guard

Info silverhawk
20 Aug. '22

I graduated from high school without much of a plan for the rest of my life.  It was enough for me that I was done with teachers, some of them only four or five years older than me, telling me what to do and how to do it.  I was tired of writing papers about things I didn’t care about and I was tired of calculating how long the third side of a triangle was.

It wasn’t that the schoolwork was more than I could handle because I’d made good grades in all of my classes.  I just couldn’t see how knowing how to do those things would help me through life.  I didn’t know what I was going to be, but I knew I wasn’t going to be an engineer or a scientist and I sure as hell wasn’t going to be a writer.

My parents weren’t the type to keep supporting me financially.  They made that very clear the day after my graduation party.  Dad walked up to me when I was lying on the couch and watching TV.  

“Marty, you need to make some decisions now.  Your mother and I will let you keep living here, but we’re not going to support you like we have in the past.  You said you don’t have any interest in any more school, so you need to find a job.”

I started looking the next day and I found out there were a lot of places looking for people.  The only problem was they all wanted either a couple years experience doing a similar job or some sort of higher education like either an associate’s degree from a junior college or a four year degree from an actual college.

I did find a job washing dishes and pots and pans for a restaurant.  It paid minimum wage and they’d only let me work about thirty hours a week.  That way they didn’t have to give me any benefits.  I did work forty hours a few times when somebody called in sick, but never more than that so I didn’t get paid overtime.

The other problem with my job was the schedule changed every week.  One week I’d work Monday from noon through Wednesday and the next it would be Saturday through Monday.  The week after that might be Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday.  There was no way I could plan because the next week’s schedule wasn’t posted until Wednesday of the week before.

I was watching television one afternoon when I was off and a recruitment ad for the US Army came on.  I hadn’t thought about the Army because Dad had been in the Army and said it wasn’t much fun.  When I thought about it that day, I could understand why.  Dad was an insurance agent who sat at a desk all day long.  He didn’t do any more outside than he absolutely had to.

I was pretty much the opposite.  I liked camping and hiking.  When I thought about it some more, that’s exactly what the Army guys did in the commercial except they were carrying guns.  The only shooting I’d ever done was at Boy Scout Camp, but I liked it and had always wanted to do more.

The next day I was off, I drove down to the Army Recruiting Office to see what they had to say.

What the recruiting sergeant said sounded great to me.  I’d go through eight weeks of basic training and then another eleven weeks of training specific to the infantry.  After that, I’d be assigned to an existing infantry unit.

He didn’t say anything about any other type of military job, so I asked him if there weren’t other jobs.  He nodded.

“Sure, but if you want to be real Army, the real Army that defends our country and way of life, you want to go infantry.  When the shit hits the fan, the President of the United States doesn’t call up the cooks or the motor pool or the clerks.  He calls up the infantry because he knows they’ll get the job done.

“You’ll be promoted faster in the infantry than in any other job and you’ll see more of the world.  Those other guys, the cooks and motor pool, their job is to keep the infantry fed and to give them vehicles to carry them around.  I’ll tell you, I went infantry and got my buck sergeant stripes after a year and eight months.  Two years later, I was a staff sergeant and leading a combat platoon.  The guys in the mess hall and motor pool are lucky if they make buck sergeant by the time their four-year enlistment is up.

“The infantry also trains you to be a leader, and when you get out, who will companies want to hire – some guy who knows how to peel potatoes, change a tire, or type out a letter, or a man who has demonstrated his ability to lead other men and accomplish the goal?”

Well, all that sounded good to me, or at least it wouldn’t be as bad as washing dishes for minimum wage.  I signed up right then and there.  Two weeks later, I’d passed the physical and was on a bus from the airport in Philadelphia to Fort Dix, New Jersey with a bunch of other guys.

That bus trip was the start of my twenty-year career in the US Army.  I did think about getting out several times.  My first tour in Vietnam would have been enough all by itself if it hadn’t been for two things.  

I’d been promoted to Buck Sergeant while I was in Vietnam, and when I left Vietnam I went to Fort Bliss to go through the Advanced Leader Course.  Once I finished the course, I’d be on the promotion list for Staff Sergeant and that would mean an increase in pay that I couldn’t ignore.  I wouldn’t be making a lot of money but the Army furnished me a place to live and three meals a day.  When I compared my pay of about thirty-eight hundred a year to the average US wages of a little over six thousand, I figured I was about breaking even.

The second was that the world seemed to have calmed down as far as needing the regular infantry was concerned.  Vietnam was winding down so it was unlikely I’d be assigned there for a second tour.  Once I graduated, the Army would send me wherever it wanted and the Army had a lot of duty stations that didn’t seem like they’d be all that great.  If I re-enlisted, I’d have some choice in where I went.  Germany, Okinawa, and Hawaii seemed like great places to spend my normal Monday through Saturday morning workweek and then have the rest of the weekend to do whatever I wanted.

The result was that I re-enlisted for four more years and specified that I wanted duty in Germany.

The year my second enlistment was up, I’d spent two years in Germany, a year at Fort Dix as a drill instructor, and was currently in Okinawa.  It was then I had to make another decision.

By then, I was starting to have some thoughts about what I’d do if I got out, and when I talked to our recruiting sergeant, he didn’t paint a very pretty picture.

“Marty, you’re on the promotion list for E-7 so if you stay in the Army, you’ll be in charge of the enlisted men in a company through a sergeant or staff sergeant in each platoon.  That’s a great job to have because you’re more administrator than anything else.  You’re young enough you still have a good chance of making E-8 before you get out and that’s an even better job.  You won’t go to formations or drill.  You’ll be in an orderly room telling a few clerks and lieutenants what they should be doing.

“I’m not telling you this to get a box checked on my evaluation.  We’ve known each other for quite a while and I wouldn’t do that to a friend.  What I’m telling you is what made me decide to stay in.

“The prospects if you get out are pretty good if you can find the right job, but that’s the problem, finding the right job.  Most companies like people who’ve been in command positions like you and I, but they want some other skills to go along with that ability.  Twenty years in the infantry won’t get you anything.  What you’ll have to do is start at the bottom and work your way up.  What the department of labor says is that will take you another ten years or so.

“The real situation is you’ve spent eight years and worked yourself up to a pretty nice job in the Army.  You make about half as much as a civilian, but you don’t pay for housing or meals, and any healthcare you need is free.  Those expenses quickly wipe away the difference in income, plus, you have a pretty nice retirement coming if you stay in.  If you stay in for twenty years, you’ll retire at forty percent of your last monthly pay for life plus Social Security and you’ll keep your free health care.”

Well what he said made sense to me, so I re-enlisted and kept re-enlisting until I’d put in my twenty years.  I was an E-8 by then and though the retirement calculations had changed some, I’d still retire at a rate of almost nineteen hundred dollars a month.  That meant I probably wouldn’t have to find much of a job to live pretty comfortably.  I’d also drawn combat pay during a few assignments and I’d put most of it in savings.

I turned thirty-nine a month before I signed the final papers and formally retired.  After I packed up everything in my car, I drove back home.  I intended to retire there because Mom and Dad were getting old enough they needed some help sometimes.  I stayed with them until I found a job, and then got my own apartment.

Before I retired, I had to go through some training that was supposed to prepare me for civilian life.  During that training, we learned about what types of jobs we should look for.  The instructor said senior NCO’s might find work as guards at a US Embassy somewhere, but I already knew that.  It was a practice called “double-dipping” because once you got one of those jobs, you started earning a second retirement.  You could actually retire twice, your social security benefits would be higher and you’d still have free healthcare.

I’d thought about that, but since my parents were getting on in years, I figured I’d just stay in the town where I grew up.  I applied at every factory within a half-hour’s drive and got an interview with about half of them.

It was like the recruiter had said.  They’d hire me at an entry-level position, but assured me that I’d likely rise quickly because of my military experience.  When I looked at the jobs I’d likely be doing though, they didn’t appeal to me.  I couldn’t see myself driving the same three screws into the same two parts at a rate of one assembly a minute for eight solid hours minus breaks and lunch.

When I was walking out of one plant, I passed by the guard station and the idea struck me that maybe being a guard was something I’d like.  After all, I’d done a lot of guarding in the Army.  I stopped and asked the man behind the window if his company was hiring.  He just laughed.

“They’re hiring all the time.  Young guys take the job but they don’t like wearing a uniform every day and just sitting and waiting for something to happen that never happens.  It only takes a couple months before they get bored enough to quit.”

The next day I put in applications at four different guard services, and two days later I got an interview with one.  The interview lasted all of five minutes.  All the guy wanted to know was what I’d done in the Army and two references he could call.  A week after that, I was a bonded guard for Security Systems, Inc.  I worked the second shift from three to eleven thirty at Wendel Industries, a company that made wiring harnesses for several major appliance makers.

The guard I’d talked to was right about the job of being a security guard.  Mostly it was just sitting there in a chair, watching the display of some video cameras in the warehouse, parking lot, and entrances on a split screen display, and asking for identification for anyone who didn’t have a badge to swipe to open the door into the plant.  

Every hour I had to make a walk around the plant and swipe my own badge in badge readers distributed around the plant.  When I swiped my badge, the reader sent my badge number and the time to a central data system.  I had a specific window of time in which to make each check.  

The reason for the checks was twofold.  The first was obviously so the company would know I was there and doing my job.  The second reason was to establish a time frame should something happen like a fire or a break-in.  Some of the areas didn’t have many people in them, so I was also checking for people who were there when they shouldn’t have been.

As I’d found in the Army though, any job is what you make of it, and I found there were some pretty good things about being a security guard.

Most of the jobs in the plant involved stringing different colored wires over and around pegs on boards to make up a wire harness, wrapping the wires with tape or a plastic cover, and then staking on terminals or adding connectors on each end of the wires.  None of those jobs required much in the way of strength, but did require a lot of manual dexterity.

Industry had found out during World War II that female employees were faster than male employees at jobs requiring manual dexterity.  For that reason, a lot of the employees of Wendel Industries were women.  A lot of those women were single as well, and since I wasn’t married, it was like being at a woman buffet.  There were a lot of women to chose from and I tried to get to know them all.

My shift was a great time to do that.  I started work at three in the afternoon, and was in the guard office when the first shift clocked out.  That wasn’t all that great because the first shift tended to be the people who had worked there the longest and were therefore the oldest.  There were a few younger women who looked like they’d be fun, but they were all wearing wedding rings.

The second shift and third shift crews were a different story.  Third shift started at eleven and ran until seven the next morning.  The people who worked third shift were there because they wanted that shift.  Most of the women were married and they wanted that shift for a variety of reasons, but most had to do with the fact that they still had kids still living at home.  The husband would get the kids up for school and then leave for work as soon as his wife got home.  She’d get them to school and then go to bed.  By the time the kids came home from school, she was up.  When her husband got home from his first shift job, they’d have dinner as a family.  The husband would put the kids to bed when she left for work.  With that system, they didn’t need a babysitter.

Second shift was considered the worst shift to work, and that was because if you worked second shift, you basically had no social life.  You started work at three in the afternoon and clocked out at eleven, so going out on Friday night was pretty much out of the question.  If the plant had to work on Saturday, that killed Saturday night too.

For that reason, most second shift employees were the youngest seniority people in the plant.  The ages ranged from just out of high school to what I guessed was maybe forty.

There was another difference between first shift and the other two shifts as well.  First shift was when all the managers were in the plant so people came to work, did their jobs, and then went home.  There were also a lot of politics involved because most of the supervisors were hired from the ranks of the most senior hourly employees and there was a lot of lobbying for the next supervisor’s job going on.

On the second and third shifts, there were no mangers in the plant to check on anybody, so the employees did their jobs in the way they considered most efficient and the least tiring.  They also didn’t have to be concerned about anybody looking over their shoulder to see if anything was going on that shouldn’t have been.  The supervisors were the same way.  If their employees were making their production goals, they didn’t interfere much.

Of the three shifts, there were more single women on second, and since I was there for the entire shift, I got to know them pretty well.  Some, I got to know through the video camera that watched the parking lot.  

Suzie Murrel was a really nice looking girl about twenty-five who had all the guys in the plant walking around with their tongues hanging out.  It was easy to see why.  

Suzie was taller than most women because she had really long, slender legs.  She also had pretty nice breasts, not huge, but pretty perky looking.  She seemed to know that because her work clothes consisted of a tank top that was cut so low if she bent over you could see her bra, and jeans that I didn’t know how she got on unless she greased her legs and ass first.  

The first night I was on the job, Suzie was one of the last employees out of the plant and with nothing else to do, I followed her with the parking lot camera as she left the plant.  It was the only camera that had remote control for positioning and zooming in.

She’d parked her car at the far end of the lot and that wasn’t unusual because the first shift usually took up all the spaces closest to the plant.  What wasn’t usual to me at the time was there was a guy waiting beside her car when she got there.  I recognized the guy as one of the maintenance men.

When Suzie walked up to him, she put her arms around his neck and they kissed.  Then, they got into the back seat of Suzie’s car.  

The windshield was reflecting the lights in the parking lot so I couldn’t see through it, but it wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on.  Suzie’s car started rocking about five minutes after they got in, and it rocked for about ten more minutes before it stopped.

When they both got out of the back seat, Suzie gave the guy a big kiss then, and he walked off to his pickup truck.  Suzie got into the driver’s seat of her car and followed him out of the parking lot.  I watched Suzie every night after that and it was always the same guy standing beside her car when she left the building and the same thing always happened.  

Beth Andrews was different in that she seemed to like me.  I’d been there a month when she started stopping at the guard desk when she left for the night.  She’d always smile and tell me she’d see me the next night.  After a while, I started looking for her every night because she was pretty nice to look at.

Beth looked a little older than me and had a figure that wouldn’t quit.  Like most of the women, she dressed pretty casually for work.  Usually she wore a tank top and jeans.  The jeans did a good job of showing off her wide, sensuous hips, but it was the tank tops that showed me Beth was doing a little advertising.

Beth had really big breasts, and by really big, I mean they looked like they’d each be a double handful.  I knew she always wore a bra to hold them up because I could see the bra straps under the straps of the tank top.   She evidently liked to be comfortable though, because other than keeping her big breasts in about the same general location, her bras didn’t keep them from moving around and they swayed or bobbed every time she did anything.

She also liked tank tops with things written on them.  One of my favorites was the one with “I’m Magically Delicious” written across where her nipples probably were.  Another one that made me smile was, “I’m Forty and I Feel Fabulous”, with little letters just under her big breasts that said, “Wanna feel for yourself?”.  Then there was, “You’ll never Know Unless You Ask?, “I Can’t Help It That I’m Made This Way”, and “Yes, They’re Real”.

Well, to say I was interested would be an understatement.  I’d had my share of women over the years, none that I’d have considered settling down with, but they’d mostly been pretty good.  It’s not all that hard to find a willing woman around any Army base anywhere.  All you have to do is hit a bar or two on a Friday or Saturday night.  

There were a lot of single women in those bars and I dated a few, but what they were looking for was marriage and some kids.  What did appeal to me were the more mature women I’d see come in with another woman or two about the same age.  Most were married women, and what they were looking for was a guy to sub for their military husband who happened to be assigned somewhere else in the world.  You could always tell because they weren’t wearing a ring on their left hand, but the ring finger on that hand had a little shiny spot where the ring had been.

They weren’t looking for anything long term.  They were just looking to get laid once in a while, and that suited me just fine.  I’d strike up a conversation with them and figure out which one I liked.  After a drink or two, I’d ask her to dance a slow dance.  It was really neat to feel her press her breasts into my chest and sigh when I let my hand slip from her back down to the swell of her hips.  

After a couple dances, she’d whisper that she’d meet me outside.  Then, she’d go tell whoever she was with that she’d gotten a headache and had called a cab to take her home.  That was wife-code for, “I found a man to screw me tonight, so don’t wait on me to come back.”

Those women were pretty great.  They were experienced enough to know what turns a man on, still had bodies that could do that, and were horny enough they let loose with everything they had.  Most importantly, there were no strings attached.  All they wanted was a cock in them to make them cum.  That was fine with me because I wasn’t interested in getting involved with a woman on any kind of basis other than casual.  I’d known too many guys who got married only to find out that their wife didn’t like living by herself for a year while he was off in some foreign country and had found a man with a regular job who wasn’t gone all the time.

Once I got out and back home, that source of bed partners dried up so I was looking around.  Beth seemed to be looking too, but I was pretty leery of getting involved with someone from work.  Part of my orientation at the guard service was a section about involvement with the employees of the company where I was working as a security guard.

According to the training film, there had been multiple instances across the US where a contracted guard had become involved with a company employee and had looked the other way when that employee violated company rules.  Often that was something as simple as adjusting the employee’s clock time to reflect the employee was at work when in reality the employee was late or left early.  In more than a few cases, the guard had been implicated in a theft of company property or money.  

If I got involved with any employee and that involvement included helping that employee do something illegal or against the company rules, I’d be terminated immediately, even if I didn’t face any criminal charges.  

Still, Beth seemed like a nice woman in spite of the way she dressed, so I was interested in getting to know her better.  I started out by talking to her more when she left the plant.  When she’d tell me her standard, “I’ll see you tomorrow”, I’d grin and say “Not if I see you first”.  Yeah, it was an old line, but it did make her smile.

The third night I said that, she stopped and leaned on the little shelf on the window of the guard office.  She wasn’t very tall, so when she leaned over, her big breasts were sitting on that shelf.  That caused the open neck of her T-shirt to fall open enough I was looking at the top of the cups of the black mesh bra she was wearing.  She let me stare for a couple seconds before she grinned.

“So, how do you plan on seeing me first?  I never see you anywhere except here.”

I shrugged.

“I don’t know.  Maybe I’ll see you in the grocery store on Saturday or maybe in a bar some night.”

Beth smiled a coy little smile.

“I buy my groceries on Tuesday morning, and the only bar I go to is the bar in my den.  You’d have to be on one of those places to see me outside of the plant.”

I grinned then.

“What kind of bar is it?  Do you have a dance floor and live music?  I might consider it if you do.”

Beth just stood up and grinned.

“I’m not going to tell you.  You’ll have to see for yourself.”

“Oh, and when would I do that?”

Beth turned as she was talking.

“Maybe one of these days I’ll invite you over.”

With that, she walked out the door.

After Beth left, I smiled to myself.  I figured she was just teasing me about inviting me over.  I’d known women like that in the past.  They try hard to look like they’d be great in bed and they talk like it’s something they’re ready for, but if you try, they back off fast.  I suppose it makes them feel good that they can still entice a man.

The next night, Beth walked out to the entry during her lunch break and parked her big breasts on my shelf again.  I’d seen her when I was making my key rounds but never close enough to see her tank top.  It was cut low in the front and the words said, “Not Unless You’re Nice”.

Her bra was different, or at least what I could see of it was different.  It was still mesh, but instead of black it was the same color as skin.  I was looking through pale mesh that didn’t hide much of anything.  What I was seeing had to be the tops of her darker nipple beds showing through the flesh-colored mesh.

Beth smiled then.

“I thought I’d come see what you do during the shift.  Doesn’t look like you do much of anything.”

I chuckled.

“Well, mostly I’m here to make my fire checks every hour.  Other that that I don’t do much except watch what the cameras are picking up.”

Beth frowned.

“You watch what we’re doing when we work?

I shook my head.

“No, the cameras are at the entrances, in the warehouse, and in the parking lot, places where there aren’t a lot of people at night.”

“So you can see me when I walk to my car after my shift?”

“Yeah, if I was to look I could.  I never do though.”

She chuckled.

“Maybe you should.  You might be surprised at what goes on in that parking lot every night.”

The buzzer that signaled the end of the lunch break went off then.  Beth frowned.

“Damn, that was short.  Catch you again on my way out.”

Well that night when Beth left, she was later than usual.  She left just before Suzie, and when she went past, she grinned and asked if I was going to watch her.

I used the joystick to swing the parking lot camera around to look at the door and found Beth walking up the walk to the parking lot.  I kept following her until she got to her car.  When she did, she looked around to see if anyone was close, and then pulled up her tank top for about three seconds.  Then she got in her car and drove away.

The parking lot lights were those lights that look yellow and change the color of every thing, so I really couldn’t see much detail.  I felt pretty good that Beth would try to show me her breasts.  I’d never had a woman ask me if I wanted to get involved with her, let alone have her show me her breasts.  It was always the opposite.  I had to play nice, buy them a drink, and then do some convincing on the dance floor before they told me what they wanted.

The guard service had only warned me about becoming involved with an employee of the company where I worked.  Their policy and rules didn’t say I couldn’t.  I decided to see how far Beth would go.  I was sure I’d know if she was trying to hook me into anything that would get us both into trouble.

The next night at lunchtime, Beth walked out to the guard office, perched her breasts on my shelf again, and asked if I’d watched her walk to her car the night before.

I smiled.

“Yeah, I did.”

She grinned.

“So, what did you think?”

“Well, I’m not sure you want me to think.  I liked what I saw if that’s what you’re asking.”

Beth was still grinning.

“I hoped you would.  I’ve never done anything that for anybody before.”

I asked Beth why she had, and she looked at her hands instead of at me.

“I was hoping you might want to get to know me better, and that was all I could think of to make you want to.”

That made me chuckle.

“Beth, you didn’t have to go that far.  All you had to do was tell me.  Just so you know, I was interested before your little show.”

She looked up then.

“You are?  You don’t think I’m too old?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t know how old you are, but age never mattered to me much, well, unless you were seventy.  I’d probably have a problem with that.”

The buzzer sounded then, and Beth grinned.

“I’ll be back tonight after everybody leaves so we can talk some more.”

Beth was the last of her shift to leave that night, and she stood by the guard office while I finished up my log and turned everything over to Wilbur, a guy of sixty-six who was working as a guard to supplement his social security.  He’d watched Beth standing there and waiting, and when I handed him the clipboard, he grinned.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do if I still could.”

I walked Beth to her car that night, and when we got there, she unlocked the door but then turned around.

“Marty, are you really interested in me?”

I said I was and she put her hand on my arm.

“Interested in just getting me into bed with you or interested in knowing who I am and why I did what I did?”

“Well, I have the same question about you.  Women don’t usually flash me like you did.  I haven’t figured that one out yet.”

She stroked her hand up my arm.

“That’s why we need to talk, or at least why I do.  Do you have time for a cup of coffee?  Denny’s won’t have many people in the place now, so we’ll be almost alone.”

Once the waitress brought our coffee, Beth added creamer and sugar to hers, took a sip, and then looked up at me.

“You probably think I’m pretty bold what with how I dress and what I did last night, but when a woman is my age, she has to be if she wants to find a man.  Guys want girls like Suzie with her perky boobs and little tight butt.  They won’t pay any attention to a woman who’s forty with saggy boobs and a big butt.  That hurts, especially when you’ve been married and lost your husband.”

“You’re a widow?”

Beth nodded.

“Blaine had a heart attack two years ago.  The doctor said it was fast so he didn’t suffer.  I was thankful for that, but it didn’t help me to not suffer.”

I said I was sorry for her, but Beth said that was part of the problem.

“I still miss Blaine, but he’s more of a memory now than anything else.  What’s done is done and I can’t change it.  I have to go on and live my life.  I just wish it wasn’t such a lonely life.

“If I was divorced, some guys would be beating down my door because they figure divorced women miss having sex and will do anything to have sex again.  I’d never stay with a man if that was the only reason he wanted to be with me, but it would be a start.  If you’re a widow, they figure you’re still grieving so they stay away.

“I’ve tried everything I can think of, but not even my tank tops worked.  Men look at them and smile, but that’s as far as they’re willing to go.  I’m not looking for some guy to sleep with me.  I’m looking for a man who can accept who I am and stay with me.  I don’t even care if we get married or not.  I just want a friend I can talk to and do things with.”

Well, that was about as different from what I figured Beth would be as you could get.  She wasn’t a closet exhibitionist or a slut.  She was just a lonely woman doing what she thought would find her a friend and maybe a lover.  I was willing to find out which.

“Well, if you want a friend, how about me?”

Beth looked at me like she was trying to see if I was serious or not.  Then she frowned.

“You’d settle for just doing some things with me and talking with me.”

I shrugged.

“That’s what we seem to be doing now, and I sort of like it.”

“You don’t want to have sex with me?  You’re not gay, are you?  I don’t know if I’d like running around with a gay guy.  He’d probably dump me for another guy.”

I grinned.

“I about as far away from gay as a man can be, Beth, and it’s not that I’m not interested.  I’ve just never tried to talk a woman into anything like that, and I’m not going to start now.”

She grinned back then.

“So, what do you like to do when you’re not being a guard?”

That conversation ended up with me saying I’d pick Beth up at noon on Saturday and we’d go to a local flea market.  Beth said she loved going to flea markets, and since I’d never been to one, I said that would work for me too.

My first impression was that a flea market was a place where people brought their junk in hopes of selling it instead of just throwing it in the trash.  Beth set me straight about that.

“Well, some of it is just stuff nobody wants, like this painting on velvet you used to find being sold out of the back of a van or that one of dogs playing poker.  Some though are things people collect, like these covered glass dishes shaped like a hen on a nest.  I started collecting them after my mother died and I got the one she had.  They were made from about 1935 up until 1999.  Mom bought hers in 1936.  Most were made by the Indiana Glass Company, but Hocking made some too.  I have probably fifty now.”

She picked up the hen dish thing and then grinned.

“I already have one like this, but I will never have too many hen dishes.”
When we walked past a display of little porcelain figurines, Beth stopped and pointed to them.

“Some people collect Precious Moments too, but these are way overpriced.  They came out in 1979 and there were twenty-one in that first set.  They were a big deal back then because the company advertised them as being collectible.   The company made one set a year and never repeated it, so people figured they would be worth some money some day and they bought a lot of them.  

That might have been the case if the company had limited how many of a year’s models they made, but they didn’t.  They kept producing more and more as the demand grew.

“The original twenty one pieces are worth a lot of money and so are some of the special edition releases, but the rest aren’t worth much more than their original price if you take into account inflation.”

I chuckled and said she knew a lot about collecting stuff.  Beth just smiled.

“Well, I had to have something to do after Blaine passed away, and I’d always liked collecting things.  I didn’t have to worry about money because of his life insurance, so I started collecting again.  You should see my whiskey bottles I’ve been collecting since I was ten.”

I said some day I’d love to see her whiskey bottle collection and Beth grinned.

“You just want to see my bar, get me drunk, and take advantage of me.”

I shook my head and grinned back at her.

“No, drunk women fall down a lot and you have to pick them up, and they go to sleep as soon as you get them in bed.”

Beth giggled then.

“And you know this how?”

I grinned at Beth again.

“Well, when I was young and dumb, I tried it a couple times.  Always ended up with me going home by myself.  After that, I stayed away from girls who’d had too much to drink.”

Beth smiled.

“So, you only hit on women who don’t drink?  Well, that lets me out.  I like a glass of bourbon at night.  Got that from my daddy.  He always had a glass before bed, and once in a while, he’d give me a taste.  When I turned twenty-one and told him one night that I couldn’t sleep, he just smiled and told me “Old Jim” could fix that.  It did too.

“That’s all he ever drank, Jim Beam, and he’d only have one small glass every night.  He lived to be ninety-six, so I guess it didn’t hurt him any.  I hope not, because for almost a year after Blaine died that glass of Jim Beam was the only way I could sleep.  After that, it just became a habit, I suppose, because I still do it.”

I said I didn’t mind if a woman had a drink as long as she wasn’t an alcoholic.

“The way I see it there’s a difference between being relaxed and being drunk all the time.  I couldn’t live with a woman who stayed drunk.”

Beth smiled a funny smile.

“So, you’d buy me a drink, but you’d only buy me one?  That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

She was mentally fencing with me and I had the feeling I was losing so I tried changing the subject.

“What about all these glasses and stuff with little nubs all over them?  Are they any good?”

Beth pointed.

“Those white glasses and bowls over there?”

When I nodded, Beth said, “That’s hobnail milk glass.  I don’t collect it because I don’t know enough about it.  If it’s old, like from the 1950’s, it’s collectible, but it’s still being made today and some people try to pass of the new stuff as being old.  There are ways to tell, but from what I’ve read, the differences are pretty subtle.

“By the way, you didn’t answer my question.  Would you buy me more than one drink?”

I said I’d have to see what one drink did to her first.  Beth smiled.

“The only way you’ll find out is if you buy me that first drink.  You wanted to see my bar.  You got anything planned for the rest of the day?  If you don’t, we could find out.  I bought a frozen pizza when I went shopping.  You do like pizza, don’t you?”

Well, it seemed like Beth was moving pretty fast considering this was the first time we’d done anything together, but I was more interested in her than before so I said I’d like having pizza with her.

Beth left me in her living room while she went to put the pizza in the oven.  I walked around her living room just for something to do, and I was struck by how many pictures she had on the walls.  They were mostly of her with a guy I figured was her husband.  

I was looking at one that had to be Beth when she was about twenty or so.  She was standing next to a man in a Navy uniform and he had his arm around her.  I was concentrating so I didn’t hear her walk up until she spoke.

“That’s Blaine and I before he went on his first cruise.  I didn’t want him to leave, but I was so proud of being the wife of a Navy sailor.”

Beth chuckled then.

“It was a six month cruise and Blaine didn’t know I was pregnant when he left.   He got back in November and I met him at the pier in Charleston.  I was wearing a heavy coat so I didn’t show much.  He went to hug me and when he felt my belly, he got the strangest look on his face.  He asked why I hadn’t told him and I said I didn’t want him to worry.”

I chuckled too.

“I’ll bet he wasn’t happy about that.  I sure wouldn’t have been.”

Beth smiled.

“He was happy that he was going to be a father.  He said that’s all that mattered.  He proved that too.  We raised two kids together.  Jimmy is in the Navy right now, but I don’t think he’ll make a career out of it.  Judy is married and moved away to Indiana, but she calls me at least once every week.

“The girls at the plant told me I should put all the pictures with Blaine in them in a box in my closet so I could forget about him and get on with my life.  I didn’t do that because I couldn’t.  I wanted to remember the times Blaine and I had together, not forget them.  Do you think that makes me weird?

I didn’t quite know how to answer that because I didn’t have a frame of reference.  I’d never lost anybody I cared for, and that’s what I told Beth.

“You don’t seem weird to me, but I’ve never been in your position so I really can’t judge.  I don’t know how I’d feel if I was.”

Beth started to say something, but her kitchen timer dinged then.

“Ahh, pizza’s done.  Let’s eat in the kitchen.”

I’d completely misjudged Beth’s intentions that night.  After dinner she took me into a spare bedroom and showed me all her hen candy bowls and then took me to her den and showed me her collection of whiskey bottles.  The hen candy bowls were interesting because I’d never seen them before.  

The whiskey bottles were pretty interesting too.  She had one that dated back to 1880 that was labeled, “Old Tub”, but Beth said it was from the original Jim Beam distillery.  She had bottles from then on until Prohibition shut down the distillery.  The next bottle she had was still labeled “Old Tub” and she said that bottle was from 1934 after the Beam family rebuilt the distillery.  The first bottle with the Jim Beam label she said was from 1943 when the Beam family changed the name.

She’d poured us both a small glass of Jim Beam as soon as we got in the den, and when she’d finished explaining her Jim Beam bottle collection, Beth tipped up her glass and then asked if I thought she was too drunk to have another drink.

Well, she didn’t look drunk to me, so I said I thought she probably could.  Beth just smiled.

“That was the right answer.  I had fun today.  We should do this again sometime.  I hate to chase you off, but I’m pretty relaxed right now and I need to get my big butt in bed.  Are you OK to drive?  If you aren’t, I have another spare bedroom you can use.”

As I drove home that night, I was wondering whether Beth really wanted what her tank tops were hinting at or if she just wanted a friend.  I decided it was probably just the latter, and I was good with that.  I'd found Beth to be a very interesting woman, the kind of woman I though I’d be happy doing about anything with.

All the next week, Beth stopped by the guardroom during her lunch breaks and after her shift ended.  On her lunch breaks, she’d bring her sandwich with her and eat while we talked.  Those conversations were pretty short because her lunch break was only twenty minutes.  Usually they were about something that was happening at work, like when Lois, a young woman who was maybe twenty or so, came to work without a bra.

“It’s not like she probably needs a bra because my boobs were bigger than hers when I was fourteen, but…well, you look at her when she leaves and you’ll see what I mean.”

I did watch for Lois when she left and Beth was right.  Lois’ breasts were barely big enough to push out her T-shirt.  It was her nipples that were the issue Beth was talking about.  They were big enough they made these two strawberry sized bumps in her T-shirt.  I wondered if she was cold or what.  If that was just how big they normally were, it would have been a real treat to see them all stiff.

When Beth stopped at the guardroom that night, she grinned.

“Did you see Lois?”

When I nodded, Beth chuckled.

“Lois is a little different, so I thought they were probably fake.  She’d do something like that and her boobs aren’t the only things she has that are little.  I know for a fact that she wears panties with butt pads in them so her butt sticks out more.  I saw her in the restroom one night and one of those pads was sticking up out of the waistband of her jeans.  When I told her about it she pulled down her jeans and stuffed the pad back down.

“Well, they aren’t fake.  She dropped a connector on the floor and when she bent over to pick it up, I saw down the front of her shirt.  I told that to Sandy and she giggled and said she’d have to tell her husband.  Sandy’s boobs aren’t very big either and she says her husband always tells her that more than a mouthful is a waste.  She’s gonna tell him that Lois would be more than a mouthful.”

There were phones in each department so they could call maintenance if something broke or if they needed a stockman, but none of those phones could call out of the building or receive incoming calls.  Part of my job was to take incoming calls and then leave a note on a corkboard for the employee to call back.

One night, I’d just gotten in and the first shift guard was on the phone.  When he hung up, he handed me the phone call form.  I looked at it and it was for Grace Williams to call Dean.  I took the note out and pinned it to the corkboard.  When Beth came out on her lunch break, I asked her if she’d make sure Grace got the message.

“Somebody named Dean wants Grace to call him.  If you see her, would you tell her to check the call board?”

Beth almost choked on her sandwich.  After she swallowed, she grinned.

“That Dean is Vernadine, the woman Grace lives with.  Grace likes girls.  Didn’t you know that?”

Well, I didn’t but some things made sense once I did.  Grace was a sort of hard looking woman who, unlike some of the women on second shift, seemed to be very in touch with her masculine side.  She always wore what looked like a man’s work shirt and her pants never fit tight.  To top that off, she wore work boots instead of running shoes like most of the other women wore.

I grinned then.

“Well that explains why she dresses like she does.”

Beth smiled.

“I overheard her talking to Tammy in the restroom one night, and you wouldn’t believe what she said.  Tammy likes girls too, by the way.  Anyway, Grace said she made Dean have three orgasms one night…well…she said she made Dean cum, but I knew what she was talking about.

“Maybe I should give girls a try.  I’d just like to have one once in a while.  No, that wouldn’t work.  Girls don’t have…well, there are some things that you just can’t substitute for.”

When I raised my eyebrows, Beth grinned.

“Yes, that’s what I’m talking about, but don’t go getting any ideas.  We’re just friends, aren’t we?  Oh, there’s another flea market I go to sometimes.  Wanna go with me on Saturday?  I’ll buy another pizza.”

Well, I did consider myself to be friends with Beth, at least for now.  I sort of hoped it would go further than that, but if it didn’t, I still liked her.  I said I’d pick her up at one.

The first flea market had been full of women’s stuff like Beth’s hen dishes, costume jewelry, kitchen stuff, and some clothing.  The second one was different because it was bigger and in addition to the women’s stuff, it had some men’s stuff too like tools and fishing equipment.  Beth said she hadn’t been to this one since her husband died.

“Blaine and I used to come to this one a lot.  Blaine was a wood-worker.  He built all those shelves in the den and the spare bedroom and he built the bar.  He’d come here to find the old hand tools he liked to use like chisels and planes and saws and stuff like that.  I still have all of them out in the garage.  I’ll have to show you tonight.”

After we finished the pizza that night, Beth smiled.

“Wanna see my tools?”

Then she giggled.

“That’s what you guys say to girls when you try to pick them up, isn’t it?  Well, my tools aren’t that kind of tools.”

I was pretty surprised when she led me through the kitchen and into the garage.  It was full of work benches and tool racks and racks full of lumber.  Beth pointed to an odd looking workbench.  It was about eight feet long and three feet wide, but in the middle there was a section that was a few inches lower than the other two sections.  On the left side there was what had to be a vise although I’d never seen a vise that looked like that before, and there was another one on the right end.

“That bench is where Blaine did most of his work.  He built that himself too, right after we bought the house.  All his hand tools are in the rack behind the bench.  There’s a table saw and a jointer and a planer out here too, but he only used them to get his lumber cut down to close to the right size.  He always said he liked to feel and hear the hand tools cutting through the wood and with power equipment all he could feel and hear was vibration and noise.

“He’d come out her after dinner sometimes, but Saturday and Sunday was when he did most of his work.  I’d usually come out and watch.  It was pretty fascinating to see how he did things.  I once told him he was so gentle it looked like he was making love to the wood.  

“He smiled and said in some ways what he did was a lot like making love to a woman.   He said because of how the tree grows, the wood has a certain way it wants to be cut, and if he didn’t do it that way, what he was making wouldn’t turn out very good.  I guess he knew what he was talking about because everything Blaine made was a lot nicer than anything you can buy in a store.”

Beth sighed then.

“I still miss being out here when he was working on something.  There were more than a few times when…you’ll think I’m weird if I tell you.”

I shook my head.

“No I wouldn’t.  I think I know you well enough by now to know you’re pretty normal.”

Beth smiled.

“Well, sometimes he’d take a break from whatever he was doing and we’d…”

Beth walked over to a workbench and pulled a pair of steps from under it, and then used the steps to climb up and sit on the bench top.

“Blaine made these steps so he didn’t have to lift me up here.  Then he’d stand on the bottom step because that put him at the right height to…”

Beth looked at the hands in her lap then.

“The first time it was a little scary.  I was afraid I’d fall off, but Blaine held me up.  When I had the orgasm it was like I was just floating because the only part of me touching anything besides Blaine was my butt.  The times after that were like that too, except I wasn’t afraid of falling off.”

I chuckled.

“You had sex on this workbench?”

Beth’s voice got soft them.

“No, we didn’t have sex.  We made love.  I miss that too. God do I ever miss it.”

I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything.  

Beth looked up and her little smile looked hopeful.

“Marty, would you want to…I mean, we’re just friends, but sometimes friends can be more than friends, can’t they?”

I thought I knew where Beth was going with this and I was more than willing.  I just wasn’t sure if she really wanted this or if she was just feeling that way because of the memories and I was conveniently there.

“Beth, yes, friends can be more than friends, but I don’t think it works if it’s just once.  I think it has to be a longer term commitment than just when the mood strikes.”

Beth smiled.

“I didn’t say I wanted a one time thing, Marty.  It can be as long as you want it to be, and I was hoping you’d want it to be a really long time…like for always.”

I wasn’t sure she realized what she’d just said.  I took her hands in mine and smiled.

“Beth, it sounds like you just proposed to me.  Are you really sure that’s what you meant to do?  You don’t really know me yet.”

She gently pulled her hands from mine, put her arms around my neck, and smiled.

“I’m not suggesting anything permanent even though I’d like it to be that way.  I know enough about you to know you’re not like a lot of guys I’ve met.  You’re a good man, not some wimp or some guy who thinks he’s God’s gift to women like Willard in Maintenance.  That’s why Suzie does it in the parking lot with him every night.  He’s got her convinced he’s something special.  You’ve never tried to convince me that you are.

“I know I like you a lot and you must like me because you’ve been playing like you’re interested in my whiskey bottles and my hen dishes and you haven’t tried anything.  That’s enough for me right now.  We can learn more about each other as we go.  If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out, but I’m hoping it will.”

Well, what could I say?  I admit to thinking about it a lot, and since Beth seemed to be serious, I couldn’t just tell her no and then leave.

“The only thing that worries me is this bench thing.  I don’t know where to start.”

Beth grinned.

“I do.”

When she unbuttoned the blouse she was wearing she didn’t just unbutton the buttons and then take it off.  She unbuttoned the buttons and let it fall open, then took my hands and put them under her breasts.  Her bra was pretty soft, so when I gently squeezed them they sort of moved out of my hands.

Beth murmured, “I like that”, then slipped her arms out of the sleeves and let the blouse drop behind her.  She looked up and smiled then.

“I have to turn it around to undo the hooks.  Give me a second.”

She slipped her bra straps down her arms and pulled her arms out, then turned her bra around.  When her breasts slipped out of the cups they looked absolutely fantastic, two round, heavy breasts with darker nipple beds and nipples that pointed out and up a little.

When Beth unhooked the band and then tossed the bra behind her, she looked up.

“I hope you don’t think I’m too big.”

I grinned and stroked a fingertip over Beth’s nipples.

“Nope, you’re just about perfect”.  

I bent over then, kissed Beth’s nipples, and then smiled when she shuddered.

“Now that makes them perfect.”

I wasn’t kidding Beth about that.  I’ve liked all the breasts I’ve ever fondled, large, small, or in between, but Beth’s were beautiful and she seemed to love having them stroked and gently squeezed.  Her nipples weren’t as big as Lois’, but they still grew longer and taut when I kissed them and then sucked gently.  Beth moaned a little when I kissed her right nipple, but when I sucked it in, she jerked a little and the moan was louder.  Her voice was still soft though.

“Marty, I need to take off my pants now.  Can you make sure I don’t fall off?”

While Beth undid her button and zipper, I held her with my hands under her arm pits.  She leaned back enough she could slip them out from under her ass and then started working them down her legs.

I knew Beth wouldn’t look like a twenty year old woman and she didn’t, but her body looked a lot closer to thirty than forty.  Like most women who’ve had children, her stomach had a few stretch marks, but I never minded those.  The rest of her was pretty tight, including her ass.  It was wide, but not flabby like some of the wives I’d had in the Army.

When Beth let her pants slip down her legs, she kicked off her running shoes and let them fall on the steps.  Then she grinned.

“Blaine always liked this part the best.”

I could see why he would have.  Beth leaned back again and rolled her red panties down over her ass cheeks and then lifted her ass enough she slipped the back down to her thighs.  She kept her mound covered though.  She looked up at me then.

“Blaine never wanted me to shave so I never did.  I hope you like me like I am.”

Beth slowly raised her legs until I was holding her up and then started slowly working her panties down her thighs.  The first thing I saw was some crinkley hair on her mound, but once she had her panties half-way down her thighs, I was looking a some really soft looking, really puffy outer lips with some slender and long inner lips peeking out from between them.  

When Beth got her panties to her knees, she let them slip down her legs and then sat back up.  She grinned.

“I showed you mine.  Aren’t you gonna show me yours?”

I wasn’t as seductive as Beth when I took off my clothes.  I just unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it on the bench, then unbuckled my belt and undid the button and zipper on my jeans.  After I kicked of my shoes, I let my pants fall down and stepped out of them, then pulled off my underwear.

Beth was smiling as she watched me, and when I finished, she held out her arms.

“You won’t need the step for this part.  Come here, Marty.”

I’d kissed a lot of women in my day.  Those Army wives seemed to like kissing, but they didn’t kiss like Beth.  I don’t know if it was the way she put her arms around my neck and pulled her big breasts into my chest or if it was the way her tongue tried to find mine as soon as our lips met.  All I know is this tingle ran all the way down my back and then into my already stiff cock.  It probably helped a lot when Beth moaned into my mouth.

She moaned again when I lightly pinched her left nipple, and a second later she slipped her right hand down my chest, and then over my belly until she found my cock.  Her fingers were soft and warm, her stroking motions slow, and when she stroked her fingertip over my cock head, I had to groan.

Beth shivered a little when I slipped my right hand up her satin-smooth thigh, and when I touched hair, she spread her thighs wide.  I couldn’t see because she was still trying to tie our tongues into a knot, but I could feel the softness of her outer lips and the delicate little ripples and folds of her inner lips.  

She wasn’t very wet, so I probed with a fingertip until I found her entrance.  When I slipped that finger inside Beth, she broke our kiss and whispered, “Oh God, Marty. I want you so much.”

Well, between kissing her, fondling her big breasts and nipples, and stroking first one finger and then two in and out of Beth’s entrance, she was starting to get there.  I kept feeling more and more wet warmth on my fingers.  

I was starting to get there too.  Beth wasn’t jacking my cock.  All she was doing was softly moving her hand up and down, but feeling that was getting me there too.  To help Beth along, I slipped out my two fingers and stroked them up and over her inner lips until I found her clit.  When I put a finger on each side of her little button and then rubbed up and down, Beth gasped again and her hips rocked enough if I hadn’t grabbed her, she’d have slipped of the workbench.  

I’d decided it was about time and so had Beth.  She put my hands on her hip bones, whispered, “hold me here”, and then hooked her heels over my shoulders.

I saw right away why there was a first step.  My cock was too low to reach Beth.  I stepped up on that step and my cock head bumped into her soft, wet lips.  After that, all I had to do was ease my cock head between Beth’s soft, wet lips until I found her entrance and then push in.

Well, that’s what I thought I was going to do.  I stepped up on the step and moved forward enough my cock head brushed Beth’s lips, but she reached down then and guided my cock for me.  I felt my cock head slip into her a little and started to push.

That’s when I realized why Beth had hooked her knees over my shoulders.  I’d just started my cock head inside her when Beth put her hands on my shoulders  and used her legs to swing herself into me.  I got in about half a stroke.  Beth did the rest by impaling herself.

I held my cock inside her for a few seconds just to feel what she was like inside, and then started to pull out.  That’s when I understood why Beth had put my hands on her hipbones.  I couldn’t pull out because Beth just moved with me.  My hands were on her hipbones to keep her in one place so I could pull out.

Once I figured that out, it was pure heaven.  Well, it really wasn’t much different from the other women I’d had as far as what I was feeling in my cock, but what was going through my mind was a lot different.  My cock was sending those sensations to my brain, but my brain was mixing them up with something I’d never felt before.  

It was a feeling that this was somehow right, like it was meant to be or that for some reason I felt like I didn’t want it to end.  With those Army wives, I’d always made sure they came before I did, but that was a conscious effort on my part.  If they were having trouble getting there, I’d always start rubbing their clit until they did.  It was great to cum at the same time they were cumming.

With Beth, it wasn’t something I was consciously doing.  It was more like I was pacing myself with her by hearing her little moans and the way she sometimes gasped and dug her nails into my shoulders.  I was just enjoying being one with her and feeling how she was responding.  I wasn’t in a hurry, but I didn’t try to slow down.  It was just happening all by itself.

Well, it kept happening all by itself until Beth sucked in a deep breath and then held that breath.  I felt her start to get tense and try to push herself over my cock.  That lasted for a couple seconds.  Then, Beth let out that breath, gasped, “Oh God”, sucked in another breath, and then held it again.

I felt her passage start to contract around my cock just before Beth’s thighs started to shake.  That was enough to get me there and there was no stopping it.  I groaned and rammed my cock as deep inside Beth as it would go, and then the first spurt raced up my cock and inside Beth.  Right after that happened, Beth cried out, “Oh God, Marty, don’t stop.”

I don’t really remember what happened after that, at least until Beth pulled her self up and kissed me.  It was all just a blur of Beth shaking and making little cries and me cumming inside her and feeling her nails digging into my shoulders while she bucked herself into me.

Beth didn’t kiss me for very long because she was breathing too hard and too fast and so was I.  It took a couple minutes before we were almost back to normal.  That kiss was longer and it was different.  It was like we were just coasting on some wave that didn’t seem to end so we didn’t have to do more than just hold each other and press our lips together to feel great.

That wave did end though.  My cock softened enough that no matter how hard she tried, Beth couldn’t keep it inside her.  When it finally slipped out, Beth giggled.

“Damn…I suppose it won’t go back in now for a while, will it?”

I grinned.

“Nope, not for about an hour if I remember right.”

Beth stroked my cheek.

“I’m not gonna let you go until it does at least one more time, so you’ll just have to spend the night, won’t you?”

I did finally go back to my apartment on Sunday night, but it was tough to do that.  The workbench was interesting, but also pretty athletic.  Beth in bed was just as erotic and arousing, but once she straddled me and impaled herself on my cock, it was fantastic to be able to play with her big breasts and hear her moan and to cup her hips when I pushed my cock up inside her when she came.

It was tough to leave her because of that, but also for another reason.  Somehow, on that workbench that Saturday night, I decided I couldn’t live without Beth.  She wasn’t a beautiful woman although she was pretty when she wanted to be.  She wasn’t every man’s wet dream.  All she was was mine, the woman I’d never found before, and a woman I couldn’t give up.

For another six months, we spent the weekends at her house and I stayed at my apartment during the week.  As soon as my lease expired, I packed everything in my car and moved in with Beth.  It was about that time I figured I was playing with disaster if I kept working where Beth did.  Everybody knew about us and if anything wrong happened, we’d both get our asses fired.

A job came up in my guard service company for a supervisor.  I applied for it and got it.  Now, I’m the one who sends young guys out to various places we service, and I’m the one who gives them the standard company policy that fraternization with the businesses employees is something they should avoid.  I’m careful not to say “never” though.

Since I have a day job now and Beth still works second shift, I figured it would be good to have a hobby for the evenings.  Beth said she couldn’t bring herself to sell all Blaine’s tools so I’ve been trying woodworking.  I’m not very good yet, but I’ve bought some books and watched a ton of youtube videos, and it’s starting to make sense.

Beth and I don’t do much when she comes home from work.  She’s tired and I have to get up earlier than she does.  She keeps me filled in on what’s going on at Wendel Industries though.

“You remember, Suzie, the girl who had sex with Willard in the parking lot every night?  Well, he got her pregnant and then quit as soon as she told him.  She doesn’t know where he went.  Jason, the packaging foreman seems to like her and they’ve been seen together so maybe he’ll take care of her.  I always thought Jason was gay, but apparently not.

“Oh, and Lois, the girl with no boobs and big nipples, well, she decided she’s not a lesbian anymore.  She’s dating Eddie, that weird little guy who works in the stockroom.  The funny thing is she keeps talking about this other woman named Randy like they’re still together.  The other girls think they’re all living together and having sex together too.  I think they’re still just friends.  Lois seems to be a lot happier now.  I think all she ever needed was a man.”

About a week after I moved in, I noticed all the pictures of Beth and Blaine were gone.  I asked Beth what happened to them and she said she put them in a box in the closet.

“I don’t need to remember Blaine now that I have you, so I put them away.  I’ll always love Blaine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love you too.”

Beth put her arms around my neck then and smiled.

“I do, you know.”

It’s on Saturdays and Sundays we show each other how much we love each other.  Sometimes it’s that same workbench and I’ve gotten pretty good at that.  Other times it’s the bed, though last Saturday Beth walked into the den naked, hopped up on the bar, and grinned.  

“I was talking to Eleanor last night and she said her husband read this book about how to do something that will make a woman have a really strong orgasm.  She said she didn’t think he’d do it, but he did and she almost passed out.  Wanna try it?”

Well, I didn’t have a clue about what Beth was talking about until she reached under the bar and brought out a can of whipped cream.  Then she spread her legs, pulled her puffy lips apart, and squirted a big glob of whipped cream from her entrance up to her clit.  She put the can back behind her and then scooted her ass down to the end of the bar.

“She said we play like I’m an ice cream cone and you lick me.  Come show me how you lick an ice cream cone.”

Well, it wasn’t a first for me like it was for Beth, but it was still great.  I had to hold her down so she wouldn’t fall off the bar when she came.  When she stopped shaking she grinned.

“Well that was different, but like I told you once before, there are some things you just can’t substitute for.  I’m ready for the real thing now.  Meet you in the bedroom.”

 








 

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