Jacob's Ladder

Kate's face went back to radiant. I said, "So, if it's acceptable to you. Can we try to get it ALL back?"

She jumped to her feet and said, "YES," and dragged me to MY feet for a tight embrace. I'm sure everybody on the terrace thought I'd just proposed. In some ways, I guess I had. Then she proceeded to lay a smoking hot instance of PDA on me that the Kate I used to know would have never even considered. I could see that I had a lot to learn about the grown-up version.

I moved Kate lock-stock-and-barrel onto the boat. Surprisingly, she didn't travel with much gear, at least by female standards. I got the impression she was so rich that she didn't need to pack much. She had the money to just live off the land, so-to-speak.

Late that afternoon, we docked at the Tamarind Reef Marina and Resort near Christiansted on St. Croix. St Croix is the party island in the USVI, and Christiansted has the upscale atmosphere that I've always sought-out when I'm in a happy mood. The boat was better appointed than any of the rooms we could rent, so we decided to just stay there. We ate ashore.

That first night we were sitting at the Galleon, which is part of the marina. We were drinking Mojitos while watching the tropical sky turn from azure, to purple, to a flaming red and gold. Kate was oriented so she could watch the sunset, while I was looking at the green shores of Buck Island.

Kate was stunning. I realize that I was seeing her through the eyes of a man in love. We were both fifty-nine years old, but little Kate had aged well. She had a golden tan and her thick chestnut hair was hanging loose like it did when she was a girl. The white streaks only added to her beauty. She was wearing a tasteful spaghetti strap sun-dress that looked like it had cost her a mere thousand bucks. And of course, there was that trim figure and those big heavy breasts.

I kept reminding myself that the beautiful woman sitting opposite me was a highly reputable doctor, not my little childhood buddy. It was the same with me. My company was a major defense contractor. Forty years had passed. We had done our best. Now it was time to settle down to just being Jake and Kate again.

There was one very large pachyderm still left in the room. I had told Kate that I no longer felt constrained by Evie's memory, so there was no roadblock to recapturing the profound personal closeness that we once had. Still, the thing that nurtures spiritual intimacy is the physical bond between a man and a woman. That also had to be rebuilt for our union to be absolute.

If you are experienced in life you know that sex can lead to all kinds of irrational behaviors, needless moralizing, thoughtless judgements and irrational jealousies. Kate and I had a personal history that extended back a half century, and god-only-knows what had happened in the interim, so our sexual history might entail some nasty landmines.

First, we had been lovers. Then she had left me for someone else; as much as she regretted it later. After that, she had spent years in the dating scene. She had acquired a lover who had become her husband, and that husband had a decided kink. Then she had lived another decade in the wild.

Meanwhile, I had carried-on a twenty-three year deeply committed relationship with a woman who was arguably the hottest female on the planet. In that respect, Evie had taught me more about women and sex, than any normal man should ever be allowed to know.

Hence, Kate and I were indeed dragging a lot of baggage, and that was the last hurdle we had to overcome before we could begin to build a life together. It was nighttime when we got back to the boat. We stepped into the cabin. Buster looked up from where he was sleeping in the cockpit.

I said, "We're home, buddy."

He said, "That's good, boss," and went back to sleep; ever vigilant.

I sat on the big sectional. Kate came over and sat next to me. She curled those gorgeous muscular legs under her round little butt and I put my arm around her. She turned her face up to me, her lips only a few inches from mine. I gazed into her beloved face with its striking hazel eyes. Those eyes were filled with arousal. It was time.

I lowered my lips to hers and her mouth opened like a flower. Her lips worked frantically on mine while our tongues slid back and forth. She moaned and threw herself sideways on the couch in a way that plastered her massive boobs against my chest.

I slipped one hand down her body and began to massage her beautiful round ass. She moaned loudly, her hips began to buck and it felt like she had some kind of mini-orgasm. She broke the kiss, took my hand and led me to the cabin.

I drew her to me and looked into those powerfully intelligent eyes. The feeling of her ripe totally round little body, the fullness of her breasts and the flat muscular flanks of her hips took my breath away. She was panting. I hugged her. Her huge tits bunched up between us, as I flattened them against my chest. She was looking very hungry.

She said with deep emotion, "We are not the same people that we were forty years ago. There is no doubt that we have a lot to relearn about each other. But, I give myself to you without reservation, as I should have done in the beginning."

Then she drew back, unzipped, stepped out of her dress and pulled me toward the king-sized bunk. When she got to it she turned, grabbed my hips, fell to her knees and dropped my pants. She did it like a seasoned professional. My little pal had clearly learned a few things over forty years.

She took my cock and surveyed it. She said, "Ahhh, just like I remembered it." It was as if she was reminiscing about the Eiffel Tower, and at that point, the instrument she was holding resembled it.

In the short time before she left for school, we had never done anything more than fuck missionary style. Kate had obviously expanded her repertoire in the interim. Her lips showed me just how much a smart woman can learn over a lifetime. She quickly had me begging for mercy. She stopped the torture, gave me a satisfied smile and unstrapped her bra, while idly pumping me with her other hand.

She stood; I saw those remarkable boobs for the first time in four decades. They were still high, proud and as heavy as ever. Her big brown nipples were succulent and inviting. I led her toward the bed by taking the hand that was NOT holding my cock.

There was a short interlude while we got completely undressed. I had anticipated that this would be awkward and stressful, but it was as if we had never been apart; the body understands things a lot better than the mind. We eased back on the bed, me between her widely spread legs. Her pheromones were blowing my senses away.

Kate had learned a lot. She was as graceful and receptive as Evie. Her eyes were insanely eager. Her hips were already slowly humping at me, and she was quietly moaning. I saw her hip structure, round and womanly to the maximum, and yet incredibly powerful. The heat and lubrication indicated that she was fully aroused.

I pushed into her and she gave a loud sustained groan. That was the last rational thought we both had. She began to moan loudly, legs raised and spread wide, with her arms stretched out directly over her head and her hands frantically gripping the brass bars of the headboard.

I began to fuck her with long purposeful strokes and she was crying out and bucking frantically. Then she just yelled, and I do mean yelled, "Oh Jesus. I'm coooooming sooooo, soooonn, Ahhhh! Fuck me!"

Then she muttered desperately, "Don't stop! Fuck me hard!" I was pumping like a madman and she kept bucking and yelling "Ohhhhh Fuccckkk!"

Then her legs came down, and she began to kick the bed like she was swimming the backstroke. Her arms were still straight over her head and her fingers were clenched, knuckles white, on the bars of the headboard. I couldn't take my eyes off her perfect red finger nails.

Then her hips shot straight up, stopped and she began to push herself hysterically against me trying to get every inch into her. She was screaming now, "Fuck-me, Fuck-me, Fuck-me, Fuck-me, Fuck-me, Fuck-meeee!" She went limp. It was almost like she passed out from the sheer force of her orgasm.

I had not come yet, and although I wanted to be a considerate lover, I had reached the point where the only conceivable option was fucking her dead body., so I pounded her limp form for another few seconds. Her subconscious must have been wide awake. Because, she suddenly woke up screaming, "OHHHH MYYYYY GODDDD!" Her eyes shot wide open, rolled completely up in her head, and she went into quivers and convulsions of pleasure. At that point the frantic twitching of that hard, little body took me so far over the line I didn't expect to ever come back.

I came so hard I thought my balls would fall off. We were both totally out of control. She was still writhing underneath me as I pumped into her and literally screaming her delight. That was probably the most intense fuck of my life.

I collapsed on her, still slowly bucking form and her hips finally stopped moving, but they didn't halt until I had shrunk out of her. I rolled to my right, just to keep from smothering her. She lay there, not moving for an uncomfortably long time. Then she turned her head toward me.

We looked at each other with wonder. She said, "If we ever have a bout more intense than that you will have officially killed me."

I said, "We'll go together," and I meant it.

That made us a complete couple. When we were together as kids, we had always had an easy-going, comfortable vibe. Of course, we were the odd ones back then, together because both of us were painfully shy and introverted.

We were in our golden years now, able to look back over a lifetime of accomplishment. It gave us perspective, and we now understood how important we were to each other. When we were young, burdened with the impetuousness and simple-minded assurance of youth, we just knew things would work out. That idea blew up when we had to face reality.

We lost each other then, and the ensuing forty-years of trench warfare were full of moments of utter joy and total crushing defeat, but that was behind us now. Shaw was right; youth is indeed wasted on the young, but wisdom is wasted on the old, unless you approach your life youthfully.

We had as many years left as we were granted. We had both made mistakes and we both paid the price that life demanded, but we were together now and we understood the true meaning of, "Until death do you part." In the meantime, there was one official chore that I wanted to get out of the way.

We stayed in St. Croix for a couple of months, just living the lazy island life. We snorkeled the reefs around Buck Island. Like every other female on the Main Line, Kate's an expert rider. So, we frequently did the horseback tour; me holding onto their oldest and gentlest mare for dear life. Yet, the sight of Kate's magnificent buns in tight riding pants was worth the frequent near-death experiences I endured, trying to stay on top of the beast; I mean the horse, not Kate. We even went deep sea fishing, where I learned that I was definitely NOT Hemingway. We laid around on the beaches with my old pal Buster, and we got wholly reacquainted.

There was still some of the old Kate in there, quiet, cheerful and loving, but the overlay of forty years of medical practice had created a strong and confident woman with the deep humanity of the healer. This Kate was like the difference between a pop song and a piece of classical music. Same idea, but dignified, intensely profound, more elegant and substantial.

Whatever trials she had faced in her life, she had overcome them and aged with grace and beauty. I loved her with the same intensity as my love for Evie.

I didn't feel like I was dishonoring Evie's memory, by falling deeply in love with Kate. First and foremost, Evie was a pragmatist. Evie loved life. She knew that you only have one shot. She was gone; and she would have been royally pissed if I spent the rest of my life pointlessly mourning her. I was certain about that. And if I was wrong; we would sort it out at the Pearly Gates. That was how much I loved both the women in my life.

We had toured down the Leeward Chain all the way to Guadeloupe, and I was in the open ocean, on the rhumb line back to St. Croix. Kate was sitting with me, staring at the panoply of stars. It was late enough, and we were far enough from any land that the heavens were shining with almost sacramental grandeur.

I had a package. I had picked it up in Pointe-à-Pitre. But, I had commissioned it in Amsterdam. I eased it out of the locker next to my seat. I said, "Kate." She turned to look at me, wonder in her eyes. I said, "I've loved you since the third grade. I lost you, but you came back to me. I always intended to die in your arms, but there is one serious problem."

Her eyes blasted their alarm. Things had been so perfect. I said gently, "The problem is that you aren't my wife. We should have done this forty-one years ago, when we were eighteen. But, it's never too late to rectify things. So, would you marry me?" I produced the five-caret diamond ring, with a couple of big blue sapphires flanking it.

Okay, I admit it; the sapphires were the color of Evie's eyes. They were my tribute to her. There was no disrespect to Kate; and yes, I'm a sentimental slob. But, I was the only person on the boat who knew what they meant, besides Buster, and of course Buster would never talk.

Kate looked at me genuinely wonderingly. It was like every part of her life from eight, to sixty flashed in front of her eyes, and then she began to cry. I said distressed, "God! I'm so sorry! I thought this was what you wanted."

She looked at me, her eyes filled with sorrow and said, "Of course I want it, you big goof. That's all I've EVER wanted. I'm crying over all those wasted years. Now, one thing I promise you is that we will make up for it."

I slipped it on her finger and she spent the night trying to squeeze forty years of making up for it, into one eight-hour period. It was exhausting.

We married in the Lutheran Church, on Charlotte Amalie. Kate was a practicing Catholic, and at the time, I was advocating Druidism. But, we both thought it was cool to be married in a historical footnote. The Lutherans didn't object; especially after my generous donation to the building fund. We had a wedding feast back at the boat, just Kate, me and Buster. It had always been just her and me, and that was good enough for both of us.

So, as we transition into the winter of our lives, and the cold winds began to blow us toward our inevitable destiny. We both know that our last journey will be eased by the hope and comfort of our love for each other. And the skinny little girl and the big geeky guy will be together for eternity.