Chapter 2

I pulled on a pair of her shorts and a blouse, turned, and modeled for her.

Betty clapped her hands together. “Like we were twins.” She pulled on some clean clothes, not quite matching the ones I had on.

“Heavens no. One of my wicked little pleasures.” For a moment, she touched the fabric between the legs.

I picked up her hand. “Lots of choices around here.” I smiled. “Chili’s or Applebee’s?”

“Welcome to Chili’s.” The bubbling young woman announced. As if she couldn’t count that high, “For 2?” She looked a second time as we stood holding hands.

I sat across from Betty so I could stare at the woman that had been a total stranger not so many hours ago and now was becoming …

“What’cha thinking about?” She rested her hand on mine, letting her fingers slide back and forth between mine.

“Just how you never know what the day …”

“I know. I feel that way too. Sure brought unexpected joy.”

“Can I start you with something to drink?”

The sever left before we could order any food.

“Nice. I’ve always loved the taste of a Cuba Libre.”

“You decadent lady. A Cuba Libre!” I smiled.

“Yeah. A real slut.”

We were still laughing when she returned with our drinks.

I stood looking at her by the door to her place, both of our hands held by the other, swinging back and forth a little to the sides.

“Alice … I had a wonderful time today.”

“Me too.” Feeling a little like I’d been on the porch after a date, I repeated myself, not really knowing what else to say. “Me too.”

“Would you like to stay with me tonight?” She leaned forward and kissed me once. “We don’t have to do anything. I’d just like your company.”

“It would feel nice to have you against me.”

I woke up in the morning, a little disoriented, feeling a warm breath on my neck, a hand resting against my back, a thigh pressed against mine. I rolled over trying not to wake her. Her eyes opened, a smile formed on her face.

“Alice … so glad you stayed. That was delicious.”

“Yes Betty, yes it was.”

“Kind of different not waking up with a cock jammed against the crack in my ass.”

I kissed her, this time with much more passion than before, a hand rested over her bare breast, a finger rubbing back and forth over the nipple. Her hand reached down and a finger rested against my naked clit. She pulled back a moment. I nodded my head. We resumed our kiss. Mouths and lips replacing fingers, kissing where we had never been before. Enjoying sharing our moisture with another, having only tasted ourselves, having only tasted between a man’s legs. Now we knew what they might have enjoyed about us. The softness, the wetness, the folds of skin guarding the opening. The hours passing with no sense of time. Our hearts racing like never in a long time, our breathing labored at times.

That was my first time making love with a woman. It wasn’t the last.

Betty and I had become inseparable. We pooled our small monthly paychecks and moved to a nicer place. We even tossed out the crappier pieces of furniture.

She would come home from her job as a secretary at a large insurance company. I worked at a university as a department secretary. I had a PhD in Philosophy, but a combination of bad timing, lack of drive after working so hard on my thesis, a demanding husband, I never did much with it. After the divorce, I was happy just to find the secretary job. How I hated the looks of the other women who saw me as a nothing woman … just a secretary. They didn’t know and I wasn’t going to thump my chest about being ‘Dr. Franks’. I just knew someday they would find out about the facts of life when some jock they’d married because of his rippled abs, ran off with someone half their age.

We would get home about the same time, fix a salad, a baked potato. A nice steak when we could scrape together a few extra coins. Other nights a quick TV dinner or a cold sandwich. Always just nice to stand next to her, act a little crazy, swing my hip to the side and bump against her, slap her butt, you know, just act a little crazy. Sometimes she’d take her dripping wet hands out of the sink, drag them across my blouse, and yell ‘oh gee. it’s wet. have to take it off.’ then pull up on it. How I loved to stand behind her and let my hands roam all over her body. Touching her was like me touching myself, only better. I’d never ever felt so good about my life. It was all something I’d never known, something more wonderful than words could describe.

One day she came home in tears. “What’s wrong darling?” I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me.

“Got laid off! Fuckers. All these years. Fired. Put out to pasture. Shit on them.” Tears poured down her face and the rage screamed out. She looked at me and I wiped at the tears with my finger. They were coming faster than I could wipe.

I pulled on her hand, lead her to the bedroom, and pushed her backwards onto the bed. I flopped down next to her.

“Fuck me my goddess! Fuck me hard like only you can do to me.”

She lay on top of me, her hands on either side of my head, and looking down into my face. She smiled. Kissed me. “My silly sexy slut. You always know just what to say.”

That evening, still naked, sitting at the dinning room table, we looked through the want-ads. I found one at a smaller college in town for a part time instructor, probably paying more than I was making as a secretary. Betty found a few promising ads. Over the coming weeks, we tightened our belts a few notches and went on interviews.

As our last dollars disappeared from the checking account, we both received good news, new jobs. A small savings account held us over until we could start and the first paychecks appeared.

“Thanks for sticking this out with me.”

“Betty you crazy woman. Don’t you know I love you. Broke or not, I love you. I’ll never leave you. You silly sex starved …”

“Yeah. Slut. Spread them wide and let me at you.”

The next spring, we celebrated our first anniversary and her birthday. A cake, cut in half, with candles on one side, a single candle on the other. In the background played ‘Lay Lady Lay’.

“Got a fire extinguisher? I can’t be that old!”

“Nah. I only put half of them on it.”

Betty gave me a slap across the butt. “Don’t be mean to an old lady.”

“Careful, I may not lick the frosting from between your legs.”

“Oh … you are mean.”

Many years later, now a full professor, I gave a lecture on ‘Growing Older and Loving’. I closed by introducing Betty as my love, as the inspiration for the lecture, and had her join me on stage. I held her hand as we bowed to the audience, our long white pony tails falling over our tie-dyed t-shirts. Everyone in the huge packed auditorium stood and applauded for the longest time. I don’t think she had ever stood in front of a crowed this large. I could feel her hand quiver a little as we stood back up, our arms reaching up over our heads.

During the reception, a woman, late 20’s maybe, approached us, and shook our hands.

“That was so moving. I just hope that I can find the kind of love you have found in each other.”

I looked at her, my eyes scanning from her feet to head. ‘Jo’ was what the name tag had on it. “Jo, are you in a relationship now?”

“Married. No kids thank God. He’s only interested in his dick and basketball. Always wondered if I should just be with a woman.”

“It’s not about gender. It’s about heart, caring, compassion, sharing, … that’s what love is all about.”

Betty squeezed my hand. “And helping you unpack.”

Jo just stood and looked puzzled. No answer seemed forthcoming, and she walked away.

We made love all that night like it was our last night together, like we’d done so many nights before. We yelled, shrieked, moaned, and carried on like hormone enraged teenagers. Pussy juices all over our faces, down our thighs, all over our hands, all in our mouths. It was the night of all nights for both of us. Always living life to the fullest.

The next morning, I held her lifeless body. Tears washing down my face like Niagara Falls and across hers. I’d lost the only part of me I had ever cared about.