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Connected Podcast
Hosted by Dawkins Blog · EN
A podcast of romantic connections.
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Cast-aways At College: part 2
Feb 25Tap to summarizeCast-aways At College: part 2Survivors savor the joy of living, and their bravery turns to romantic discovery.By SilverFoxMullet.Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.Luckily for me, my room was on the ground floor, as my building has no elevators. I had my key on a lanyard around my neck, and I unlocked the door. I let her precede me inside, and I shut the door once I got in. She looked around the room, which I usually keep fairly neat, but lately it’s been immaculate. I am not as active with crutches, so I’ve stayed in a fair bit the last couple of weeks. And I clean when I get bored.“Your room is so neat. I expected, um, sorry, a pigsty. You know, ‘guy’?”“It’s not usually this nice, but I’ve been staying in a lot recently." Tapping my cast for emphasis.She looked at my leg, then asked "Can I sign your cast?”“Only if I can sign yours." I negotiated."Deal. Got a pen?” She inquired.“Desk, top drawer." I responded, and suddenly thought. Oh No. "Uh, I’ll get one for you.”She was too quick, you know, having moveable feet and all, and she pulled the drawer open. First thing she sees is the unopened box of condoms my dorm buddies gave me for Christmas. Her eyebrows rose, and she put a finger on the still-sealed box. Then she turned bright red, and picked up a sharpie.“Your cast is covered up, I can’t get at it.” she said in a slightly quavering voice. She looked nervous and fidgety. I knew I was nervous as all hell. That box of condoms was meant as a joke, as I was notorious for not getting anywhere with the ladies. I’d kissed a couple of girls, but that was as far as I’d ever gotten. I just wasn’t able to pursue them the way other guys did. I always backed off. Just couldn’t put myself forward like that.I looked down at my leg, covered by the sweatpants. It took every ounce of bravery I could muster to open my mouth and say the words. “I’ll have to uncover it I guess.”She knelt in front of me. I could see how nervous she was. Hell, I could feel how nervous I was. “Suzanne? I, uh, I never-”“Me too." She affirmed.I looked in her eyes and asked; "Are you sure?”“Yes.” she said, and she reached for my waistband.“Wait.” I interrupted.She stopped, and had a fearful expression on her face, like I’d just said something that hurt her. Damn, that hurts me, to see her look of feeling rejected.“Let me get on the bed first, this chair is so uncomfortable.”“Oh, Okay. Can I help you?”“Yeah, just hold the chair still?”She got behind it, and I heard her say “Hey there’s brakes.” Once the brakes were set, it was easy to get out of the chair and sat the bed. She unset the brakes and slipped the chair into the corner, then knelt down before me again. This time I leaned back on my elbows & she reached out to pull down my sweats with a little more confidence. She got them to my knees, and stopped to pull off the shoe on my good leg.The sweats slipped off my legs, leaving me semi-reclined in my polo shirt and briefs. The briefs were definitely bulging now. She stared at my crotch for long enough that I became self-conscious, and I blushed almost as red as she was.Grinning big, she picked up the sharpie, then wrote a note on my cast.“To Robert, I saved myself for the one who saved my life, Suzanne”It was difficult to read from my angle, so she read it out loud to me. My heart started to race, and I felt a little dizzy. "Really?“ I said.She blushed harder, as if that were even possible, and looked at the floor."I think I’ve been saving myself for someone like you, too.” I said.She looked up at me, with what I thought was panic at first, but the smile that grew from that look was anything but panicked. I held out my hand for the pen. She sat to my left and held out her arm. It was covered by her blouse, so I said “Uh, It’s covered”.“Then you’ll have to uncover it I guess,” she beamed.She shifted up over me and I reached up with trembling fingers to work the front buttons on her silky long sleeved top. It felt like I had never operated a button in my life, I was so uncoordinated. But I finally got the job done, and her blouse fell open. I slid it off her far shoulder, and she pulled her left arm free. I stared in wonder at her tits. She didn’t have a bra on, probably because she needed both hands to get it on and off. Oh My Fucking God.I absently drew her blouse off her right shoulder, and slid the puffy long sleeve down & off her right arm and it's cast. Only then did I take in the veritable wonder of an actual pair of real live tits in front of my eyes. “Wow” I said with bright eyes. Her tits were a smaller B cup, with areolas a shade darker than her skin tone, and stiff little nipples poking out.“They’re not too small?” she timidly asked.“God no, wow! You’re beautiful!” I said with a giddiness I couldn t suppress.She blushed and looked away shyly for a second. I remembered the pen in my hand, so I had her lay on her back so I could write on her cast.“To Suzanne, saving each other, saved for each other, Robert”As I was capping the pen her left hand pulled me down against her, and her lips rushed to meet mine. I had thought she had nice lips when I kissed her earlier, but that was mostly one-sided. This was phenomenal. I dropped the pen somewhere, and wrapped my arms around her. We kissed like this for minutes, or maybe it was days, I dunno, I didn’t care. She lay half across my lap, and I bent over her, our lips and tongues entwined for such a glorious time.It was never like this. I was always so nervous trying to kiss a girl before, but this was passion and perfection. We finally had to come up for air, and she smiled sweetly at me as she lay back on my bed. I guess that’s when she felt my erection pressing into her hip. Her eyes went wide, then she grinned up at me.“Am I as fetching as you thought?”“Yeah, fetching is not the half of it. Arousing, beautiful, and literally stunning. I have no more words.”“Shall I get the, um, the box, from your desk?” she offered.“Not yet.” I replied, hobbling up off the bed, then guiding her to her feet. I undid the zipper on her slacks, and slipped them down to pile up around her ankles. She kicked her shoes off and stepped out of her slacks. “Damn” I said. She was so pale and delicate. Not a small girl, probably the same height as me, but she was certainly slimmer than I was, overall.Her hands seemed to want to cover her boobs, but she fought that urge, standing before me as a lover, not a recently met stranger. I was drawn to her, & I could feel the pull, like gravity between us. She tentatively reached toward me, and I realized she wanted me as naked as she was, so we peeled off my polo shirt.She gasped, looked me up and down, her gaze settling on the sharply defined summit in my underwear. She reached out again, and clumsily pulled down the front of my briefs with her left hand. I hooked my thumb into the waistband behind me and it made her mission move along quickly. But as she leaned down to complete the descent, she nearly got poked in the eye.“Oh dear” she said as my stiff cock sprang free of its confinement and pointed upward toward her. “That’s so… different. Bigger.” Her eyes were wide now as she took in what was apparently her first sight of a full erection.I reached for her, and she started to back away, so I laid back down and waited. She fidgeted some more, some kind of internal debate, and then she knelt and leaned right up to me, nodding. “Okay” she said.I reached down again, and ...
Transcribe →Cast-aways At College: part 1
Feb 24Tap to summarizeAn April Fools Prank Goes Awry.By SilverFoxMullet.Listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.Spring break was just that, a break. My leg, actually.When I went home to Ottawa for spring break, I met up with a few of my old high school buds, and we took a day trip to the Quebec side for some skiing at one of the nearby hills, north of Ottawa. Mid-gafternoon, I hit a patch of ice and went down hard. It was quite a day for falls, as the hills were pretty icy this late in the season. I tried to get up, but my right ankle hurt like a bitch. None of my friends had stopped, as we were all falling a lot today, they just assumed I would get up and follow them.“Aw fuck!” I groaned. I lay there in the snow for a few minutes, until someone slid to a stop next to me.“Hey, are you all right?” the guy asks.“No, I hurt my ankle. Fuck.”“Don’t move it, I’ll find the ski patrol. Hang on.” He skied away to get help.30 seconds later another guy stopped. Same question. "Hey are you all right?“"I think I sprained my ankle. There was a guy here a minute ago, he said he’d send the ski patrol.”The guy turned and looked around, then waved and yelled “Ici! Over here! Vien! Here they are.”Two guys in red jackets stopped and asked what’s wrong. This other guy said “Good luck!” to me, and skied away, as I recounted the fall and my symptoms. The ski patrol guys were great, they radioed for a stretcher and 20 minutes later they’re loading me into an ambulance. The rest of the day was a lot of waiting, x-rays, and paperwork. The local hospital had a seasonal trauma unit for all the ski injuries, and they’re used to dealing with the inter-provincial healthcare.I called my Dad, who said he’d fetch me from the hospital, then called my buddies who were still in the chalet . He told them to go home without me. They commiserated and said they’d drop by my house tomorrow and see how I was doing.I eventually got a cast on my right leg. It spanned from my toes to my mid-thigh. I was issued a pair of crutches, and a whole ream of instructions (in both French and English of course) about what to do and what not to do. My Dad showed up somewhere during this tedious process and reassured me everything would be fine.We got home really late, after stopping at a pharmacy for pain meds, and stopping for takeout, damn I was hungry by then. I was asleep in minutes after I took one of those pills after getting home.Next morning, I had to take another pill, damn leg was throbbing like mad. I had to learn how to negotiate using the toilet with crutches, fuck, that’s pain in the arse. Then I had to figure out how to shower. They gave me a shower bag for the cast but I couldn’t get the damn thing on by myself. Mom was trying to be motherly (naturally) but I was way too embarrassed to be seen naked in front of her. My Dad was a trooper, he helped me with all the bathroom stuff, and I got my shower Okay.I wasn’t going to be able to drive for a while, so my folks said they’d drive me back to school in Toronto. I could come home by bus and get my car once I was able to drive. Great.“Actually, if I could have my car on campus, one of my buddies could drive me around. None of the other guys have a car.” Not that my rattly old car was much of a ride, but it got us from A to B.“Okay” my Dad says, “Your mother can drive you there, and I’ll follow in your car, then we’ll drive back together.”“Awesome, sounds like a plan!”The rest of the day my parents helped me work out how to deal with the cast and crutches and take care of personal stuff by myself, like getting dressed, showering, shaving (yeah, ever try to balance on one foot to shave? fuckin hell), and using the toilet. My mom went shopping and bought me a bunch of baggy sweat pants, something that would go over my cast.My old friends dropped by with some hard coolers the next day, thinking it would cheer me up; but I had to pass on those due to the meds I was on. They laughed at me and drank it all, themselves. We all had a good laugh about my predicament, and they wished me luck at college. Gonna need it, eh?Then it was time to head back to school. I’d been texting and calling my buddies at school, told them the whole idiot story of my misadventures. They laughed at me big time, and of course they worried about their ride, what was gonna happen to my car? I told them about the arrangements and they were happy that it would still be available.The drive to school was really tedious, seemed to last forever, because it was so fricking uncomfortable to sit there with that stiff cast on. They got me and my stuff into my room in the dorm, and said their good-byes. I was so happy that I was on the first floor! No stairs here but there were stairs all over campus. Sure, there’s elevators everywhere but I didn’t know where most of them were.First order of business, I gotta pee after that road trip. I used the big accessible stall in the bathroom, that was great. Grab bars, lots of room, it really was made for this kind of thing. Easier than the bathroom at home, that’s for sure.I was the butt of a lot of jokes and shit for the first few days, but otherwise it was fine. Down in the dining hall I spotted someone else who’d had a fun spring break. There was a girl with her whole arm in a cast, like from shoulder to wrist, with the elbow bent at 90 degrees. I wondered what happened to her. Skiing too I supposed. My buddies said we’d make a great couple and told me to go ask her out. No way, dudes, not gonna happen. I can’t talk to girls, I always get freaked out and clam up.The end of March rolled around, and I still had weeks to go before getting my cast off. There was a party on Saturday night, and I was weaning off the strong meds by now so I could have a few drinks. My floor mates were getting me drinks, too; so I ended up having a few more than I would normally have. I was feeling buzzed by the end of the night.One of the guys suddenly showed up with a wheelchair. "Robbo! we got you some wheels, man!“"Where’d you steal that from?” I asked, a little dubious about the idea of them scamming someone’s chair.“No-No, totally not stolen, we got it for you from the Red Cross. It’s legit, dude!”“All right! Let’s check out my new ride then!” I hopped over and settled into the chair. They adjusted the footrest out for me and one of them took my crutches, and they started wheeling me away. "Where we goin?“ I asked."It’s a surprise.” says one of them, and then pull a pillowcase down over my head so I can’t see where we’re going. When I try to pull the covering off, they stopped me, and then the started grabbing my arms & duct taping them to the chair’s armrests. We were outside by now, and I started yelling, until they taped the pillowcase tight against my mouth, to muff my yelling. Now I was getting pissed, but there’s not much I could do, except literally ride this out.They laughed and giggled and make goofy jokes as they wheeled me around campus. Eventually, I had no idea where I am, and it suddenly strikes me that it was now April 1st. The alcoholic buzz is wearing off fast under the rush of my adrenaline and anger, and I wondered what kind of demented nightmare game they’ve come up with.I heard more laughing, girls this time, and they make whispered comments back and forth with the guys. I m now in a building, but I had no clue where. My chair was pushed around some more, bumping into stuff, and then a body is dumped in my lap, then they yanked the duct tape off the pillowcase and I can again my mouth. The room is pitch black. The giggling and laughing is cut off by the slamming of a door, and...
Transcribe →Bunny and the Slopes: Part 1
Jan 12Tap to summarizeBunny and the Slopes: Part 1. Bunny chaperons the senior ski trip. Based on a post by Lubrican. Listen to the Podcast at My First Time. Bunny thought it would be fun to be a sponsor for the senior ski trip, especially since Jack, a handsome teacher she'd always wanted to get to know better was going to be her co-sponsor. The trip was everything she could have dreamed of; and that included a couple of nightmares. Chapter One. Bunny's crush. Bunny Johnson was looking forward to the ski trip she had agreed to co-sponsor for the High School Seniors in the travel club at Smoky Hill High School in Buckwell a county seat, just an hour north of Oklahoma City. She'd never been skiing herself, but it didn't look too hard and she loved snow and cold weather. Her position as History teacher and Drama coach for the school kept her very busy, and this was one of the only ways she was able to get away and have some fun. Besides that, she figured that chaperoning kids who would be graduating in just a few months, and who could be expected to be more responsible than younger kids, might not be that much work either. The fact that her co-sponsor was Jack Kelly didn't hurt either. He was a hunk and she'd been wanting to meet him under circumstances that might let them get better acquainted. Now she was on her way to meet him, to work out the final plans for the trip. There were eight senior kids going, three boys and five girls, with only one boyfriend and girlfriend pair to have to keep a closer eye on. A parent had donated use of a huge motor home for the trip, but it was only going to be used for transportation. There were plenty of places in the monster vehicle for everyone to be comfortable on the drive out to, and back from; Silver Spring, Colorado. Bunny arrived at Jack's house right on time and parked in the driveway. A huge dog ran from around the house and started dancing and barking loudly right beside her car door. The dog didn't look vicious, but it was big and it was barking. She didn't know what to do, so she just sat there. In just a few seconds Jack came to the front door and yelled "Twinkle toes, knock it off!" The dog immediately went quiet and sat down, wagging his tail. She got out carefully. "Twinkle toes?" she said, and Jack laughed as the dog bounded up and ran around and around barking madly. He obviously knew his name and loved the fact that this stranger knew it too. Jack smiled and called the dog, this time saying "Twink; here!" in a commanding voice. The dog went to the porch and sat quietly beside him. Bunny went up, they greeted, and then he ushered her into the house. She made immediate friends with Jack's dog. They got down to business right away, talking about rules for the trip, ways to ensure that the boys and girls didn't get Too close to each other. They had two suites in the hotel, so all the females could stay in one, and all the males in the other. They didn't think there'd be too much trouble. Bunny found herself looking at Jack's lips, again and again. They looked full and soft. Jack, for his part, tried not to stare at Bunny's chest. Her tits were truly magnificent, though she wasn't all that aware of the fact. She'd had them for years, and pretty much took them for granted. She was a 36D on most days of the month, and today it looked like she was having trouble getting her knockers into that size bra. It wasn't because she was fat. She worked out regularly and there wasn't an ounce of fat on her, but all the push-ups and weights developed her pecks really well. That made her tits stick out and up proudly, over a flat stomach and swelling hips. The fact that she was short, just 5 foot 2; just made her tits seem larger. In high school, she was plump and pimply, and hadn't dated much. That insecurity had carried over into college. She spent a lot of time doing parts in plays and musicals, and didn't date anybody seriously. She also spent a lot of time in the gym, working out, transformed her body into what was politely referred to as a "masonry outhouse." She was much too busy in her first two years as a teacher to spend the amount of time it took to build a real relationship with a man. She owned two very authentic dildos and they were well used, but her pussy had never felt a real live cock in it. Jack was handsome, and he was also a geek. He'd finished first in his class at Cal Tech, but he'd never figured out how to approach women. Women had approached him more than once, and, to his amazement, his uncut cock had spewed its load into several foxy women. But the bald fact was that they were the pursuers, and not Jack. He never believed those women really found him attractive, and had always assumed that the guys they really wanted to go out with were busy, so they came after him, rather than stay home on a weekend night. One nice thing about women who approached you was that they weren't shy about telling you how to please them. As a result, Jack was a consummate lover, and he knew all the tricks of the trade to getting a woman off. Still, he was painfully shy. The women in the school he ended up teaching science in weren't the kind to eye him up and down and suggest a quick fuck to take the edge off. Consequently, he'd been without sex for most of the three years he'd been teaching at Smoky Hill. As a result of That, Jack had a wonderfully developed fantasy world. It included, among others, quite a few of the Junior and Senior girls; and Bunny Johnson. He'd spent literally hours spurting thick wads of semen all over his apartment while thinking about Bunny. And he was very strict about stopping what he liked to call "fraternization" between boys and girls in the school. This wasn't from some high moral stand. He just felt like if he couldn't stick his cock in the girls, nobody else should be allowed to either. As long as they were talking about the logistics of the trip, their conversation flowed smoothly. But when that was done, and they had nothing definite to talk about, both got uncomfortable. Each wished they could say witty things, and neither knew that the other felt exactly the same. With a sad glance at his lips, Bunny left, while Jack gave one last longing look at her tits. Both of them masturbated that night, thinking of each other. To The Mountains. The day of the trip came. All the kids stowed their stuff on the big coach and each found a place to sit for the trip. Jack was driving. Bunny spent some time sitting in the other front seat beside him, and some time patrolling the vehicle. She was at a loss of how to act, really. She was a teacher, but this wasn't teaching. She had seen all the kids, but only two had ever been in one of her classes. As a result, she had no relationship with them upon which to build; as a starting point from which respect for her as an adult might develop. The first problem she had was with Jerry, the co-captain of the football team; and one of the cheerleaders, named Tiffany. They had figured out how to pull out one of the beds, and were lying side by side on it, talking. Bunny didn't think that was appropriate, even though they weren't actually doing anything with each other. After a loud argument, she ruled that they had to share the space with others, and that anyone using that space had to sit up. She saw some longing looks between boys and girls, but nothing that made her suspicious. All in all, the kids were actually well behaved. They got to the ski resort that evening and got checked in. Jack had to park the big motor home some distance from the lodge, in the part of the lot reserved for RVs. By the time he found the set of suites they had been assigned, the kids had dispersed to the indoor pool, game room, and who knows where else? Only Bunny was left in the room. They explored the suites and discovered there was a connecting door between them. That made Bunny feel better because she could contact Jack without having to go outside the rooms. It was too late in the day to start skiing, but the kids lined up and got lift tickets for the next day. Then they all had dinner together in the restaurant at the lodge. After that the kids wanted to explore some more. Bunny and Jack put their heads together and decided the place was so small that they couldn't get lost, or in too much trouble. It was Jack's idea to let the kids go in a group, without adult supervision. He thought that would get the sponsors on the good side of the kids. Bunny turned to the eight expectant faces. "Okay, here's the deal. You guys can go explore, but you all have to stay together, and you all have to be back in the rooms by eleven. Deal?" "Deal!" shouted eight adolescent voices. Bunny and Jack went to the hotel's night club, where the lighting was dim and they could talk quietly. Both of them were excited about getting to spend some time with each other. As they talked, they became a little more at ease with each other. Bunny remembered from a speech class she had taken; that the best way to get a man to talk was to ask him about himself. So she did. Jack talked about all kinds of things Bunny didn't fully understand, but she sat gazing a...
Transcribe →Touching Toni: Part 2
Jan 10Tap to summarizeTouching Toni: Part 2 Best friends make the most of an arrangement. Based on a post by L Kilkenny. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. A Week To Come. "Good morning, Jake," his mother said when he came downstairs for breakfast. "Morning Mom," he smiled at her. "Something smells good." "Scrambled eggs and bacon," she smiled. It was still his favorite. Jake just smiled, made a plate for himself, and his mother, and sat down at the table while she was taking the last of the eggs out of the pan and putting them into the bowl that he had just half emptied to make their plates. Jake was already through his first serving when Diane sat down and started on hers. "Where's Dad?" Jake asked, noting his absence. "He's golfing today. I told him he could golf this weekend if he would come on my work retreat with me this coming week," she replied while continuing to eat. "Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that. Aren't Toni's folks going to that too?" "Yes, since Charlotte and I work together we kind of have to go, but luckily your Dad and Henry have agreed to go with us so it should be a good time." "Sounds like fun. A whole week in cabins on the lake," Jake said. "Yeah, as long as the events don't get too corny," she smirked. "Last year they had some motivational group come in and we had to do all these trust exercises and stuff. I think it's going to be a little more relaxed and free flowing this year. There are some set agenda items, but much of the time is supposed to be devoted to really relaxing and decompressing. That's one reason they're allowing spouses to come this year, to make it kind of a seminar and a vacation." "Well, I hope y'all have a good time," Jake said, "y'all deserve it." "Well thank you Jake," she smiled at him. "I expect you'll look after Toni while we're all away. I think this is the longest either of you have been alone so we expect you to look out for one another," his mother said. "Yes ma'am," Jake said, keeping his head down, looking at his empty plate, "I won't let anything happen to her," he promised. Work Retreat. It was a warm and sunny Texas afternoon and Jake had seen his parents off to their week-long retreat. He had just finished his workout in the home gym his family had in the basement and was coming up to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water when he heard the front door open and close. No one had rung the doorbell so that left two options. Either he was getting burglarized, or .... "Jake?" He heard Toni's voice call out. "Yeah," he said coming to the top of the basement stairs. Toni came from the den into the kitchen as he came in from the other side. "Been working out I see," Toni said, looking at his sweaty body dressed in a tank top and gym shorts, and feeling a warmth starting to spread from her center outward. "He looks yummy!" she thought to herself. "Yeah, a little bit," he said looking at her in her jean shorts, wearing a snug fitting tank top. Texas summers were no joke, even in Northern Texas, so clothing was usually chosen more for its cooling properties than style. Her hair was braided in a long braid, reaching to her waistline. "Cool, I just thought I'd come hang out over here since everybody's gone. I don't really like being completely alone," she confessed. "Sure, no problem," Jake said, "Let me run take a shower and then we'll hang out." "Sounds good to me," she said, going back into the den and turning on the TV. Jake ran upstairs, got some clean clothes and jumped in the shower. He showered quickly, threw on his clothes, hung up his towel, and headed back downstairs. Toni was sitting on the couch with her shoes in the floor and her long legs pulled up under her. His heart skipped a beat as he saw her sitting there. She looked up and saw him standing in the door way and smiled her little half smile which made her green eyes sparkle. "So what's on the agenda for today?" Jake asked. "Well," Toni said, "Kaylee is having a get together at her pool this evening and invited us." "Sounds good," Jake said. He really didn't care much for crowds, but he knew Toni wanted to go so.... "Really?" Toni asked, her eyebrows slightly raised. "Sure," Jake said. "I don't have anything else to do, and I did promise my mom that I'd keep an eye on you." "Okay, go grab what you need and then we'll run over to my house and I'll get my stuff," she said, leaning down to put her sandals back on. Jake went up to his room, put on his socks and shoes and grabbed a pair of swim trunks and an extra tee shirt, his sun glasses and a UT ball cap. Throwing everything in a gym bag, he headed back down stairs where Toni was waiting. They went out, locking the front door behind them. Jake tossed his bag into the truck before following Toni over to her house. "Come on up," she said, heading up the stairs. "I just need to grab a few things." Jake followed along behind. He looked around her room as he stood in the doorway. It was a typical teenage girl's room he assumed. He had only seen two teenage girls' rooms and they were pretty much the same. Posters of the latest celebrity heart throb, soft pastel colors, white bedroom furniture, a queen sized bed with a floral print comforter. She had a shelf, built like a pyramid, so each successive level had a shorter shelf. On the bottom, she had five sea shells she and Jake had collected when their families had vacationed together at the beach a couple of summers ago. The next shelf had 4 snow globes that her Dad had gotten from his company travels over the years. Next were 3 plastic horses that Jake had given her over the years. One white, one black, and one a buckskin. Toni loved horses. Above that were 2 pictures. One was her and Jake, not long after he'd moved in next door, and the other was her and Jake at their high school graduation. The first picture had always been there, the second she changed every so often with a new one, and the replaced one went into an album she kept in her book shelf. The top row was a single small shelf, and on it sat a pitiful little toy car with most of the paint missing and only three wheels. It had held the top spot on the shelf since she got it. It was her most prized possession. "Hold this open," Toni said, handing him her bag. Jake dutifully held the bag while she went around the room, digging things out of dresser drawers, closets, and clothes baskets. She reached in, grabbing an extra pair of panties and a bra which she threw toward the bag, but overshot slightly, hitting Jake right in the face with them. The bra bounced off and landed on his arm, the panties however hung there precariously from the bill of his hat, the light cotton fabric not having enough weight or gravity to fall. "Oops," Toni giggled, "sorry about that." Jake blew on the panties and they dislodged and fell into the bag. "Uh, no worries," he said, his face now flaming red. Toni grabbed the rest of her stuff, tossed it in the bag, and grabbing the bra still laying across his arm, put it in the bag as well. "Ready to go," she announced. Jake zipped the bag up and following Toni, headed back down stairs. Kaylee’s House. A dozen or so people were already at Kaylee's house when they arrived. It was about a half and half mix of guys and girls. Everyone was laughing, splashing and having a good time. Jake and Toni went into the pool house to change into their swim suits. Toni went into the changing room and Jake went in the bathroom where he changed into his swim trunks and a navy blue sleeveless tee shirt. They came back out at about the same time. Toni had on the turquoise bikini with a white wrap around her waist that went almost all the way to the floor. Jake's pulse tripled in an instant and he could feel himself beginning to get erect at the sight of her. He picked up a beach ball that was sitting in the corner and held it in front of himself, hoping she wouldn't realize what he was doing. He was scared to think of what Toni would say if she knew he was having these thoughts about her. He was her best friend, and was supposed to protect her, but lately he felt like it was him she needed protection from. They went out of the pool house and Jake jumped immediately into the pool, hoping the cool water would help cool him off, both literately and figuratively. He watched as Toni went over to say hi to Kaylee and Steve who were sitting on the covered swinging chair. "Hey Toni," Kaylee said as Toni walked up to her. "You remember Steve," she said, patting him on the leg. "Yes, hey Steve," Toni said. "Hey Toni," Steve replied. "Hey, I wanted to apologize about ...
Transcribe →Touching Toni: Part 1
Jan 8Tap to summarizeTouching Toni: Part 1 Best friends find they both want something more. Based on a post by L Kilkenny. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Jake awoke from what was apparently a very good dream since he could feel his erection straining against his boxers. Lying on his side, facing the wall, he was still in that transition between sleep and wakefulness. Taking a deep breath and stretching he noticed a distinct and familiar smell. It was floral and fresh with a hint of strawberry. He started to roll over but something was pressed against his back. Craning his head around the first thing he saw were bare feet with red painted toe nails, ankles crossed with one foot lightly bouncing. Turning his head further, he saw bare legs, smooth, shapely, tan, and athletic. He next saw blue-jean shorts over narrow hips, a tucked in white tee shirt concealing firm, proud tits, one of which was covered by a cascade of blue-black hair which came almost to the waist, a long slender neck, clean jawline, supple lips, narrow nose, and deep emerald green eyes. The eyes, and the lips, held a smile as Jake looked at his unexpected visitor. "Morning sleepy head," Toni said pertly. "Hey Toni," Jake said sleepily, in his deep soft voice. "What's up?" "Uh, not you," she joked. "I was beginning to wonder if you were going to wake up today. I started to wake you once, but you sounded like you were having a really good dream so I just got comfortable and waited for you to wake up." "What time is it? How long have you been here?" Jake asked, still keeping his back to her because his erection was still raging. Toni looked down at her phone. "It's 9:30 in the morning and I've been here about an hour or so." "So what are you doing here so early on a Saturday morning?" "Will you go with me to the mall today?" Toni asked. "Uh, yeah, sure. I just need to take a shower," Jake said. "Okay," she said looking at him with her trademark half-smile. She waited a full five seconds to see if he would move. He didn't. "I'm going to get some orange juice," she said getting up off the bed. "You want some?" "Uh, sure," he said, still looking back over his shoulder. Toni left her sandals on the floor next to his bed and padded barefoot out the door, headed to the kitchen. Jake jumped out of bed with tented boxers. He grabbed some clean underwear, a pair of khaki shorts and a tee shirt and headed down the hall to the bathroom, but only after looking both ways at the door to make sure no one would see him. Turning on the shower as soon as he got inside the bathroom, he stripped his boxers off and threw them in the hamper. Feeling the water before stepping into the shower, he put both hands on the wall and let the water flow over his head and down his back. At 6'3" he had to bend slightly at the waist to get his head below the shower head. His broad back was pale compared to his face, neck and arms which were nicely tanned. Jake had the classic farmer's tan, meaning he was rarely out in the sun without a shirt on. The reason for that was evident in the raised red scars crisscrossing his back. Fostered. Jake had grown up in the foster care system. His mother had abandoned him on the steps of a church in Cleveland, Ohio when he was a day old. He was handed over to social services and placed with a family that made a living out of gaming the foster care system. Child care was not on their list of priorities. He was barely fed, never loved, and when the man of the house had a little too much to drink, the boy became the target of his evil inclinations. When he was 6 years old, and after a particularly harsh beating, he had waited until his foster parents had finally passed out from drink, took the only thing he owned, a small metal car with one wheel missing, and he left. It was raining and cold. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he wasn't staying here anymore. He walked down the dimly lit sidewalk, passed street corners where hookers and drug dealers plied their trades, past darkened alleyways where junkies snorted and injected drugs, some of them for the last time. He felt invisible, as he had so often in his home. Unseen and unheard until fate or just plain bad luck seemed to shine a spotlight upon him, making him the most visible thing in the room. A target. On this night though, thankfully, he remained invisible. Cold and wet, but invisible to those around him. Suddenly he smelled something that smelled like heaven. Someone was cooking and his stomach was growling. Driven by hunger, he followed his nose down an alley until he found a door propped open and the smells coming out where too much to resist. He went inside and found a pan of fresh bread rolls. He grabbed one and started eating. He didn't hear the large man that walked up behind him. "Would you like a glass of milk with that?" a voice behind him asked. He spun around like a cornered animal, looking for an escape. The man could see the fear in the boy's eyes. He backed up so that he wasn't too imposing and knelt down on one knee. "It's okay son, I'm not going to hurt you," he said holding his empty hands, palms out, toward him. "Would you like some eggs and bacon?" he asked. "What's bacon?" the boy asked quietly. "What's bacon?" the man asked stunned. "Well son, it's only the best dang breakfast food on the planet. It's practically its own food group." "I've never had any bacon," he said, unable to meet the man's eyes. "What's your name son?" The boy stood, not answering, looking down at the floor. "It's okay son, you're not in trouble. My name's Mike." He held out his large hand. The boy automatically flinched back, away from his hand. "Hey, hey, hey; it's okay. No one's going to hurt you, I promise," Mike said soothingly. "You do have a name don't you?" The boy shook his head slowly, side to side. "Well, how about we call you, uh, Jake?" "Jake," the boy whispered. It was the first time in memory that he had an actual name, other than kid, brat, bastard, or any of a hundred names of the type. He nodded his head and said again, "Jake." "Okay Jake, how about those eggs and bacon?" "Okay," Jake said, his head slowly nodded. Scrambled eggs and bacon soon became Jake's favorite food in the world. It was so good. He had eaten two scrambled eggs and was on his 6th piece of bacon when he heard someone knocking on the back door of the diner. "Jake, this is John." Mike said, introducing the man who came in. "John is a policeman and he helps people." "Hey Jake," John said. Mike had already warned him about trying to touch the boy. "Like Mike said, I'm a police detective. My job is to help people. Do you need help, Jake?" Jake sat, looking at Mike and John for a few moments before very slowly nodding his head. "Okay, finish your breakfast, and we'll get Mike to make you a sack lunch to take with us, and we'll go for a ride in my car, okay?" "Okay," Jake whispered. "Hey Mike, would you have any of MJ's clothes here? He's about Jake's size isn't he?" John asked. MJ was Mike Jr., Mike's 5 year old son. "You know, I think I do. I keep a change of clothes for him here because whenever he comes by to visit he invariably gets something on his shirt or his pants so I keep a couple sets of clothes here." Mike left the room and soon came back with a shirt, pair of pants, and even a pair of sneakers. "Hey Jake, would you like to change into some dry clothes?" "Okay," Jake said. "All right, come on back here where you can have some privacy." Mike took Jake to his office and gave him the clothes, "Here you go bud, put these on." Mike closed the door, but walked around the side of the office where there was a window. He just wanted to make sure Jake could get changed okay. When he looked through the window, the blood drained from his face. "John," he hissed. John came over and looked through the window. He saw Jake gingerly removing his old, wet tee shirt. The red lashes across his back were angry, swollen, and fresh. "My God," Mike said in an emotional whisper. John simply shook his head. In his line of work, he had seen this type of thing far too often, and he never got used to it. When he was changed, Jake was taken to the police department where he was able to give the names of his foster parents. They were arrested, charged, and would be in prison for many years to come. John called his sister, Diane, in Texas, because he knew that she and her husband had recently found out that they would never be able to have children and had been talking about adopting. He arranged with the social services representative to meet with Diane and Bob...
Transcribe →Love Endures War: Part 2
Jan 6Tap to summarizeLove Endures War: Part 2 Tender love in a Wounded Seventies America. Based on a post by want some fun 1951. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The five of us, Joey’s parents and mine; flew to California to meet the ship that brought Joey home. We didn't get to see him at the dock. He was whisked into an ambulance that we tried to follow in our rental car. At the hospital, his doctor took us to his office. Joey had been shot and captured. His injuries weren't life-threatening, and they stopped the bleeding at a Viet Cong field hospital. He was taken to a prison camp for debriefing. "We're all adults here, and I believe in telling the truth, so I'll be blunt," the army doc said. "To the Viet Cong running that camp, 'debriefing' meant torture until they decided if a prisoner knew something useful, followed by long periods of confinement. Joey was a rank-and-file infantryman, so he wasn't very useful to them, but they kept him alive as a bargaining chip. "American soldiers came to take the camp, and there was a fire-fight. Our guys were prepared, and the Cong ran out of ammo. They apparently tried to beat their captives to death when they knew the camp would to be taken. Private Ramsey sustained a severe skull fracture. When he was liberated from the camp, he was in a coma, nearly dead of starvation and exposure. He's much better now. Recovering nicely. With hard work, he should make further improvements. We're keeping him sedated, but you may see him for a minute each." I was allowed to go first. A nurse led me to a window that looked into his room. I could hardly recognize him through the bandages on his head. Tubes, wire, bottles, and bags were everywhere. He had a cast on one leg, where surgeons had repaired the badly-healed fractures from his initial wound. His other leg had scars from long-healed sores. Skinny arms extended from his hospital gown, tubes in both of them between old cigarette burns. Always so big and strong, my darling looked like he was half his old size. He had a tube down his nose, and he was out cold. We walked into his room. "Talk to him, honey," the nurse said. "He's in deep sedation, but some patients say they remember things when they wake up." "Joey? Joey, it's Sue." His chest rose and fell slowly. "Joey? You're home now. Well, not home. You're in a hospital in California. We came to visit, me, my folks and your parents." "Time's almost up, honey," the nurse whispered. "I love you, Joey," I said as I backed out of room. We stayed for a week, visiting him for a minute apiece each morning, afternoon, and evening. The day before our flight home, the doctor met us in the waiting room outside Intensive Care. "I have good news. Private Ramsey is showing excellent improvement. He's doing well enough that we've lowered his medication. He's in a "twilight" sleep now. He hasn't opened his eyes or spoken, but I believe that's coming. We'll be able to make arrangements to transfer him to a Veterans Administration hospital near your home soon." That day, it was Marge's turn to go in first. She spent her full minute in his room holding his hand and crying. When Joe went in, he sat close to his son's head, telling him he would be home soon. Then it was my turn. "He's asleep, Sue, but talk to him," Joe said when I passed him in the doorway. "Joey, it's me, Sue. I'll be with you a lot more soon, when you're in a hospital near home. I've missed you so much, Joey." I laid my hand on his outstretched one and held it, like I had every time we visited. This time, he made a noise. "Nurse, he's talking!" "He's been doing that ever since last night. He's probably feeling some discomfort from his latest surgery now, so there's a little moaning." "Oh," Joey whispered. "Oh. Oh." "What's that, honey? Are you in pain?" I asked. "Oh. Oh. Ess." He worked his tongue around in his mouth. " Saw, Sue." "Yes, Joey, it's me. It's Sue!" His hand twitched, like he was trying to squeeze mine the way I was squeezing his. He whispered "Sue" again. Then he slept. By the time he was transferred to the local VA hospital two weeks later, Joey was awake a lot of the time. He didn't talk much, and when he did, he seemed confused. The staff said rehabilitation would take a long time. Because of his head injuries and the deplorable conditions in which he had been imprisoned for so long, we should be prepared for only a partial recovery. The first day I went to see him, he was propped up in bed, asleep, but facing the TV. I pulled up a chair and sat next to his head. "Joey, can you wake up?" His eyes flickered for a moment, and when they opened, I saw fear. "It's me, Sue. I came to see you." "Sue. Sue. Why am I here?" "You were injured in the war. You were in a prison camp, but now you're in the VA hospital near home." "Oh. Why are you here?" "I came to see you. Do you want me to go?" "No. Stay. Don't leave me." Every day after I was done with student teaching, I went to the hospital to be with him. Every day, he was better, until one night about a week before my birthday. He was agitated that evening. "What's wrong, honey? You seem upset," I said. "Your birthday is next week. I can't go buy you a present," he said. "That's okay. Getting you back is the best present in the world." "You don't understand. I can't go get you a present because I can't walk. I haven't walked in years. That cage they kept me in was too small to let me stand up, even if my leg had healed right. I went to physical therapy today. My legs are so weak I can't stand on my own. How can I ever get a job and go to a store to buy things for you if I'm like that?" "It doesn't matter. You're alive, and you're with me again. I don't need anything else." "No. I'm no good to you now. I'm a broken-down wreck. You need a man." "I have a man." "I'm not a man. I'm an invalid." "You're a patient. You were shot. They tortured you and kept you in a tiny bamboo cage for years. You were near death from starvation. The bastards fractured your skull. It's going to take time for you to recover." "You shouldn't have waited for me. I don't know why you're here. Why aren't you married and having babies?" "I don't want to be married to anyone but you. I don't want any babies but yours." When visiting hours were over, I kissed him, like always. Joey really kissed me back for the first time. The next day, he was sitting in a chair. "I have to pee," was the first thing he said. "Do you want me to help you to the bathroom?" "No, you can't do that." "They tell me you can bear some weight on your good leg. We can probably get you there." "No, Sue, I can't let you do that. Find an orderly." "Joey, I'm strong enough if you'll help me." "Don't you get it? I have to pee! I need someone to help me onto the toilet. I can't let you do that," Joey protested. "Now please, go find a man to help me." I came back into the room with a burly orderly, but Joey was adamant that I wait in the hallway while they took care of things. "I can't hold onto him and the railing and still keep my gown closed. Please, Sue, respect my privacy." When the orderly left the room, I went back in. "I didn't mean to embarrass you," I said. "It's okay. It just wouldn't have been proper for you to see me with my skinny butt hanging out of this stupid gown." "I understand, Joey, but someday, I'll see that skinny butt in bed next to me." "What?" "When we're married, silly." "You don't want to marry me, Sue. I'm not the man you fell in love with." "I didn't fall in love with a man. I fell in love with a boy who once let me beat him arm-wrestling. I fell in love with the boy who danced with me to "Moon River." I fell in love with the guy who gave me this," I said, pulling my precious locket out from where it was hidden by my sweater. "I'm in love with a man now. You, Joey." "But I'm not the same man." "Yes you are. Whatever you can or can't do, I love you." I leaned down and kissed him. Joey kissed me back pretty hard, the way he did a couple of times the night before he left for the war. When we let go, tears rolled down his cheeks. "I'm going down to physical therapy tomorrow, and I'll work until I'm healthy enough to take care of you, if you still want me." On Easter Sunday morning, Mom, Dad, and I piled into the back of Joe and Marge's car to meet Joey for services at the hospital chapel. He...
Transcribe →Love Endures War: Part 1
Jan 4Tap to summarizeLove Endures War: Part 1 Tender love in a turbulent Sixties America. Based on a post by want some fun 1951. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. It was the summer of '69. It was the summer of despair. "The heat waves shimmered in the distance, rising off the sand in an unmerciful display of mother nature's authority. We lay where we had been for hours, in the only good cover around. Off to the left, we heard enemy snipers, the gunfire signaling the start of another day in Hell." That was part of a letter Joey wrote after his unit fought its way back to base camp. He wrote as often as he could. Sometimes, I'd find a stack of his letters in the mailbox when I got home from work, and then, I wouldn't hear from him for a while. Whenever his family got any news, they would call me or visit to share the letter. I did the same for them. I always let my folks and Joey's read what we wrote, including the parts where Joey and I talked about getting married when he got home. It was the summer of '59. That's when I met him. Joey and I always liked each other. We were too young to think of each other as boyfriend and girlfriend at first. His family moved into a new house down the block the summer after third grade. I was a tomboy. I loved to ride my bike to the schoolyard to play on the swings, seesaws, and sliding board with the neighborhood boys. Sometimes, we'd play cowboys and Indians on the vacant lots in our development. Nobody thought anything of it a; me, a girl, playing with a bunch of boys. We were kids. I didn't care about the differences between a boy's body and mine. I knew they could stand up to pee, and I knew why. Big deal. That's the way it was. The boys knew I was different from them between the legs. They knew that made me a girl, but otherwise, I was one of them. Until Joey moved in. He was different, maybe a little quieter than the others, more serious, more grown up. He was horrified the first time one of the boys took a leak where I could see him. "Don't look, Sue! Harold, what do you think you're doing? There's a GIRL here!" "Yeah?" Fat Dennis sneered. "So what?" "So what? So what? You can't let her see that! That's what!" Fat Dennis stood up. He always bullied new kids at first. He towered over everyone, even Joey, and Joey was big, in a strong-looking way. "Joey, you moved in two days ago, didn't you?" "Yeah." "That means you don't tell us what to do. If I need to pee when I'm out here with Sue, I'll walk to the nearest tree or wall or something and do it. We all do. So does she. She has to sit down or squat to pee, though." "That's wrong." "No, she does." "Not that part! I meant doing it in front of a girl," Joey stated. "Why?" "Because it is." "Says who? You?" Dennis taunted. Joey stood up and looked at me. "It's also wrong to fight, and it would be real wrong to let Sue see if anything happens." "You gonna fight me, new kid?" "I don't want to," Joey said. "You chicken to lose in front of a girl?" Fat Dennis strutted around, flapping his wings and clucking. "No." "You know I'd beat you up, don't you, new kid?" "That's not how it would go," Joey chuckled. "Big talk," Dennis threatened. "Come here and fight me." "No." Dennis was pretty worked up by that point, so everyone knew he was going to lunge at Joey. Poor Fat Dennis. Joey side-stepped, ducked Dennis' punch, and flipped him over so he landed on his back. It knocked the wind out of him for a couple seconds. Joey knelt next to him. "I didn't want to do that. Are you okay?" Dennis wiped his eyes with his t-shirt, refusing to cry. "What did you do?" "Stopped the fight. I want to be your friend, Dennis. I know you're the leader here, so I'm telling you; no peeing in front of her, and if she needs to go, we walk away." Fat Dennis struggled to his feet, shaking off Joey's offer to help. "Fine, but why?" "Do you pee in front of your mother?" "No! Boys don't do that!" "Right, but why not?" "You just don't. Nobody pees in front of their mother. Heck, that stops when you're old enough to aim it. I mean, it's your mother!" "You have a big sister, don't you, Dennis?" "Yeah." "Do you pee in front of her?" "No!" Dennis sputtered. He looked like he was working himself up to a second round. "Why not?" "Are you trying to start something, Joey? Boys don't pee in front of their sisters. That's wrong." "Exactly. We don't do it in front of our mothers and sisters because it's wrong. You know why? They're girls." "Yeah," Dennis said. Then, "Oh." They shook hands, and with the new rule in place, Dennis suggested a game of tackle-tag. It was his favorite game. To tag someone, you had to knock them down. Tripping or shoving often were enough, but we usually went home scuffed and dirty. Dennis approached the game with brute force. The rest of us responded with agility and speed, so we were fairly matched. Maybe Joey tried to treat me like a girl. It was easy to get away from him when he was "It." He'd tackle the guys if he had to, just the way they taught him, but not me. When it was my turn to be "It," Joey was closest to me. He ran, dodging me, until I grabbed his arm and threw myself at him. He landed on his belly with me on his back. "Holy cow, Sue! You hit hard!" "Yup. You're "It." I scampered away from him. A few turns later, he was "It" again and came after me. He caught my one leg as I was climbing a tree and pulled me down. I landed on top of him, breaking my fall. Lying on his back, he laughed and picked me up by my waist to hold over him like a trophy. "Tag. No tag-backs. You're 'It.'" "I'm not on the ground. To tag someone, they have to land on the ground." He pulled me against himself and rolled us over, pinning me under his body. "Now you're tagged." He rose up on his arms and looked into my eyes for a moment on top of me, smiling. Then he stood up, helped me to my feet, and ran away. Joey fit in well enough, but sometimes he'd wander off. I was curious about those times, so I watched him, to see where he went. I followed him after a while and found him sitting on a big rock in the shade, staring down the hillside at the surveyors figuring out where new streets would go. "Penny for your thoughts, Joey." "Oh!" He jumped like I had appeared by magic. "Hi, Sue." "What are you doing?" "Sitting on this rock." "May I sit with you?" That was how it started. Joey and I became friends. We spent the whole afternoon sitting in the shade on that rock, swapping stories and getting to know each other. The entire gang of us "Daisy Drive Devils," as our parents called us, were friends. At least a few of us were always together. The day after Joey and I talked, the Devils played as a group like we always did. One morning we woke up to a steady, soaking rain. No one ever called each other on rainy days, since none of us was allowed outside because we would catch our death. None of our mothers understood that we would get wet walking to the bus stop that fall, too. We sat alone in our living rooms and watched Looney Tunes, The Three Stooges, and game shows on television. My parents had a big, top-of-the-line, blond oak cabinet best and an antenna on the chimney, but after Joey moved in, I didn't spend much time in the living room, except when "Lassie" was on, Sunday nights. I was helping Mommy with the breakfast dishes, watching the rain through the kitchen window, when the big black telephone on the table next to the refrigerator rang. Since I was drying, Mommy told me to answer. "Hello, Brown residence." "Is that you, Sue? This is Joey. Do you want to come play at my house? My mother says it's okay." "It's raining." "I can come over with a big umbrella to get you." "Do you want to watch television?" "We could, or we could play in the basement or my room. Maybe we could trade baseball cards or something." "Let me ask Mommy." In ten minutes, Joey knocked on our door. With my shoebox of baseball cards safe and dry under my yellow rain slicker, I splashed down the sidewalk, protected by him. That first day at Joey's house was an eye-opener. I had never been in a boy's room, but I thought all they did was play with toy trucks and soldiers and Lincoln Logs. Joey did stuff the other boys didn't do. He played the piano. He read books. He dre...
Transcribe →Survivor Benefits
Jan 1Tap to summarizeSurvivor Benefits. Three retirees discover a new way to live. Based on a post by Milo_Grigsby. Listen to the Podcast at Connected. "Jim, you remember my friend Patti right?" I lowered my morning paper and peered over my reading glasses to look across the breakfast table at Brenda, my wife of 14 years. The Arizona sunrise, shining in through tour kitchen windows. "The one who lives in Iowa?" "Idaho." "That's what I meant. Of course I remember Patti, hun. Is this a senility test?" "No, I do those in the evenings." "What?" "Don't change the subject. Would you mind terribly if Patti came out for a visit? February is rough in the Mountains." I sighed a little inside. Ever since Brenda and I had retired to Arizona, it wasn't uncommon for friends from colder climates to come for a visit during the winter months. We had a nice sized home with a small guest house, so it wasn't too intrusive. But my cousin from Indiana and his wife had just been with us for a month-long visit and I wanted our privacy back. "Um; when?" Brenda sipped her morning coffee and appeared thoughtful. "In a couple of weeks; maybe? Would that be okay?" Brenda's bright blue eyes had a hopeful look in them and her smile was warm. I had never really been able to refuse that smile or those eyes anything. She knew I would say yes, and so did I. But the game must be played, so I put on a grumpy air, made a show of snapping the paper back up to the sports page and harrumphed a little. "I suppose." I couldn't see it, but I was pretty sure Brenda was still smiling. "I'll call her later to work it all out. Thank you, Jim. I love you." "Umm hmm, that's nice." I said in return. A piece of breakfast roll hit the back of my paper. I chuckled and said, "Love you too hun." Two weeks later, Brenda and I were driving into Sky Harbor airport, to pick up Patti. It was a picture-perfect February day in the Valley of the Sun, low 70's and the cloudless sky was a bright blue dome from horizon to horizon. Brenda reached over and squeezed my hand. "Oh I'm so excited to see Patti! It's been too long!" I glanced over at her. The low afternoon sun was shining off my Brenda's silvered hair, which she was wearing in a very becoming pixie cut these days. It framed her heart shaped face and wide set eyes beautifully, which at the moment, were sparkling with excitement. Brenda was a classic beauty, and at 68 her looks have aged like fine wine. Sure, there were a few wrinkles, but they gave her character. And I loved her and her wrinkles, with every ounce of my being. Brenda and I met back in Chicago, 16 years earlier; at a support group for people who had lost their spouses. We struck up a casual acquaintanceship, but neither of us was ready for any kind of a relationship at the time. So I was surprised when she called me out of the blue, about a year after we met; and asked if I would like to meet her for dinner. That first dinner became a weekly thing. We enjoyed each other's company. We had a lot in common and never seemed to run out of conversation. I was normally somewhat taciturn in social situations, but Brenda had a way of drawing me out like no one ever had. Weekend breakfasts at our favorite coffee shops and diners were soon added to the weekly dinners at restaurants, and shortly thereafter we were alternating dinners and evenings at our homes. Naturally, and seemingly inevitably, we found ourselves in bed together and sharing breakfasts the next morning at home. We were married within a year. We had a comfortable and easy marriage. My marriage had been childless. Brenda only had one adult son when we met. We both enjoyed our careers, were financially comfortable, and had our own individual hobbies; and some we shared. 12 years after we married, we wrapped up our careers and left frigid Chicago winters behind, to enjoy our retirement in the Arizona sunshine. And that's where we have been for the last two years. The summers are a little brutal, but it’s worth it, for the warm winter months. We waited by the baggage claim and Brenda was giddy, watching keenly for Patti’s face to emerge in the crowds coming down the arrivals. Brenda and Patti ran to each other, laughing and hugging each other warmly, when we met her outside of Security. In her late 60s, Patti has the tan and wiry fit body of the outdoorswoman she always has been, with long dark hair, lightly streaked with silver, that she often wears in a braid, down her back. She and her husband Earl; who had passed away 3 years ago, had been outfitters and guides on the Snake River in Idaho, for many years. After Brenda and Patti had finished hugging and kissing cheeks, they walked over to me, arm in arm. I held out my hand "Patti, good to see you again." She took my hand and pulled me into a hug with the strength of someone who had been rowing rafts on a river for decades. "How are you, you old cuddle bear?" she said. Patti had been at our wedding, and we had visited her and her husband a couple of times in Idaho for rafting. After seeing me shirtless on the river, she tagged me with her own personal nickname for me, "Cuddle Bear." It's not a completely inaccurate description. I'm a little over 6 feet tall, and at present I'm a bit heavier than maybe I should be, at 240. And thanks to some Semitic heritage on my mother's side, I'm what you might call "fuzzy". "Oh" I grunted. "Hi, Patti." I returned the hug, which involved me bending over a bit to reach Patti's 5 foot 6 inch frame. We stopped on the way home from the airport, for brunch. "Oh my god Jim how can you Eat that?" Patti exclaimed as the waitress brought my huevos rancheros with chorizo sausage. I frowned a little, down at my plate, and then looked up at Patti. "What's wrong with it?" Brenda responded. "Don't even try Patti. I've been trying to get him to ease up since we got here, but once he discovered southwestern food, there's been no stopping him." Brenda was probably right. But damn this food is good. So I liberally dosed the whole thing with tapatio hot sauce and dug in, while the two of them ate their more sensible meals. I ate quietly while the two of them caught up. Over the last several years, their contact had been limited to tracking each other's Facebook and the occasional note or phone call, especially during the last couple years of Earl's battle with cancer and eventual passing. Brenda bragged about her son's achievements and Patti shared pictures of her grandchildren that hadn't been posted on Facebook. Patti had spent the last two years selling off their rafting company to a couple of her senior guides, and wrapping up her affairs with the intent of selling the remote property she and Earl had lived on. Her plan was to move somewhere more sensible. She was wistful about this, and Patti offered the appropriate condolences and words of encouragement. Our brunch complete, we drove home to the "active living" retirement community Patti and I had bought into. Our home wasn't large or particularly fancy, but it was comfortable and came with the added bonus of the small guest house. bought it with the intention of moving Brenda’s mother in, but sadly she had passed before we could get that done. Nonetheless Patti gushed over the house. She said it was a palace, compared to the cozy but rustic double-wide manufactured home that she and Earl had lived in. We got her settled in the guest house, and then all decided to take a well-earned siesta, before meeting back up for dinner. Sedated by the huevos rancheros, I dozed lazily on our bed with Brenda's warmth snuggled up to me, her head on my shoulder. She played with my chest hair under my shirt, dozing herself, but roused me with a startling statement. "I hope I go before you do." she said softly. "Huh?" She sighed. "I don't want to be alone Jim, not at our age. And I don't think I could stand losing another husband." "Is this about the huevos rancheros?" She pinched one of my nipples. "Jerk." she said, with a small laugh. "But no, not really. Patti looks and sounds lost, unmoored. I don't think I could live like that." “So, you want me to go through losing my second spouse, so you don’t have to? Got it!” I yawned a little. “Okay, You got me there, Jim,” she chuckled. “But back to Patti; I just feel her empty sadness. She tries hard to move past it.” "She should go move in with one of her kids, be around her grandchildren. That would perk her up, give her some purpose." "Maybe." Brenda said. We both yawned and drafted into sleep. Patti padded into our kitchen in bare feet, through the open sliding door, as Brenda and I were doing some early prep for dinner. "You do know, you two are living in heaven, right? It's the middle of Februa...
Transcribe →Charity Begins Next Door: Part 2
Dec 30Tap to summarizeCan Two Broken people make something whole, again?In 2 parts, Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the ► Podcast at Connected. Neighborhood PartyCathy and John were holding a Christmas Eve open-house next door; and expecting half of the neighborhood over that evening. They were a high standard in generosity, for the rest of us neighbors to try to emulate.I made my appearance, around 8:30 , and stoically accepted the offered condolences which were definitely putting me in the wrong state of mind. After only half-an-hour I knew I had to get out of there, even if it did piss off Cathy.John seemed to catch my mood, and dragged me outdoors to enjoy a cigar in semi-peace. With a heavily spiked eggnog in hand, and a more than decent Rocky Patel Decade burning nicely, I was willing to stick it out a little longer when he headed back indoors.“I should skin you alive for that little stunt, you know.”I heard a voice coming from poolside, and headed that way to face the music. Sandy was sitting there alone, a large, mostly empty glass of wine at her side.“I know. I was bad. But I’m done now.”“What the hell were you thinking?” she snapped.“I just wanted Erica to have a decent Christmas, and wanted to help you out a little in your effort to sell your house.”She cackled, and it wasn’t a pretty sound. “You too? You just barely met me and you’re so damn eager to get me out of the neighborhood.”<p class="MsoNormal" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: Calibri, "sans-serif"; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in 0in 10pt; orphans: 2; text-alig...
Transcribe →Charity Begins Next Door: Part 1
Dec 28Tap to summarizeLife isn’t fair. So when you fight back, fight dirty.In 2 parts, Based on the post from Tx Tall Tales. Listen to the ► Podcast at Steamy Stories. Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. I married young, and had two perfect daughters, but my marriage was far from perfect. We had been young and in love. I was entering the community college and Denise was starting her senior year when we decided to tie the knot. Her family’s ready acceptance of me was a huge factor - the family I’d never had, making me feel like a real member of theirs. I can admit it now; I probably loved being a part of the family as much as I loved Denise.Our split up was inevitable, two teenagers who knew nothing about life thinking their infatuation with each other would make everything else workout. I wasn’t an all-star, super jock, Rhodes Scholar with a 12" swinging cock. I was just your average student, A and B grades, spending some bench time on the football team to get my letter, and losing my virginity at 18 to the girl I’d eventually marry.When times got rough, we didn’t know how to handle it, and struck out at each other. Her family often stepped in and helped out when they could, but time after time, the great sex wasn’t enough to make up for the difference in our wants, needs and ambitions.In the end, we gave up. Sometimes I think it’s a miracle we made it through 5 years. Our devotion to our children allowed us to finally see past our own issues, and work out a remarkably amiable truce, with our girls at the center. Even though Denise and I couldn’t live together, it turned out we got along a lot better divorced. We shared our daughters’ time, lived only one neighborhood apart, and worked together as a team to make our personal differences have as little impact on our girls as possible.I had initially shared an apartment uptown, but eventually bought one of the smallest houses in the same school district, just to make things easier. It was a lot more than I needed most of the time, but when the girls stayed with me it felt like a home. And we only lived a couple of miles apart.The neighborhood was nice, predominantly younger families, in older, smallish homes. Most of the people were cordial, kept up their property, and after a few years I knew many by name and would exchange greetings at the grocery store, or when out shopping. I had become suburbanized.This was our fourth Christmas since the divorce. Denise was living with Eric, who I wish I could despise, but he was a decent guy with a great job and lousy taste in sports teams. He doted on my girls without trying to take my place. It had taken a while, but we’d developed a friendship, which wasn’t a bad thing.My child support was pegged at just over $1500, with the kids on my health insurance. Even though we weren’t married long enough for alimony to kick in, I was paying another $500 a month just to make the kids’ lives better. And for me, that was all that really mattered.<p cla...
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