The Extended Family Ch. 01

"What about work?" I asked.

"I called Art Gosling, my boss, on the drive down. He knew I'd get whacked now and again because cosmetics only hide so many bruises. He'd seen them before. I told him I needed to leave and start over. He's always been very supportive, and this was no exception. He said to use him as a reference, and to know I had a job with the company if I ever came back to Ohio. I hated to leave my friends there, but I have to."

Her tone and demeanor indicated she was sad at the thought of leaving her life behind. She had tears in her eyes as well as a look of defiance -- an interesting combination.

We paused in our conversation, and then I offered some steaks for dinner. In a move of evident self-bravado, Marilyn gave me a big grin, "Let me help someway. Yes, let's eat here."

Fifteen minutes later, I'd produced a steak dinner with all the trimmings. Marilyn just sat and watched as I wrestled up the things I'd prepared in the afternoon. "You prepared all this for me," she said suddenly after figuring out that this was not a normal meal for a single, middle fifties gentleman.

"I had an important guest coming from Ohio," I laughed. "Now I'm especially glad I did after hearing your story. I really am glad to help, and to let you know I'm here for you."

Marilyn got me telling my life story over dinner. I could do it for the first time without getting maudlin and without tears coming to my eyes. She seemed understanding and sympathetic about my loss less than a year before.

After dinner, we both made fast work of the clean up and then took what was left of our wine and went and sat on the patio to watch the last vestiges of sunset disappear. We entertained each other further with events and stories from our lives. We weren't dwelling on our problems or losses, but rather on the happy times we'd had with our families and friends. We laughed a lot; something I realized I hadn't done too much of for a couple of years.

When the wine was gone, I offered her some Grand Marnier or other liqueur. She took the orange sweet liquid fire in a small glass from me a moment later. I had some Kahluah. We sipped and got quiet, just enjoying the night sounds from the neighborhood, the stars, and the reflecting lights on the bay.

Suddenly, Marilyn said, "Oh, heavens. I've enjoyed myself too much and over stayed my welcome. I must leave." She jumped up and started to gather her things.

"Where are you going?" I asked without getting up.

"Oh, I'll find a room nearby and see you tomorrow."

I caught her anxious look and put my hand up. "You were going to sleep in your car somewhere, right?"

She nodded slowly and looked like a kid who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Yes, but it won't be a problem for me. I've done it before -- lots."

"Well, it's sort of a problem for me," I said. She looked puzzled. "You see I promised myself I would go out of my way to help you -- way out of my way. I also have this very empty guest room that hasn't been used in a long time. I need someone to live there for a while and bring it back to life. So you see, if you stay you'll be helping me and making me feel that I have honored a promise to myself -- to the universe."

She looked uncertain about whether to accept.

I tried to make the point stronger and make her feel safer if that was her problem, "I'll be over on that side of the house. You'll have your own bedroom, bath, and phone -- the door even locks. You can check-in with your daughter if you want. Try it for a night or two. If you've found a place by them you can move, if not please accept my invitation to stay for as long as it takes until you get on your feet."

I paused and then asked her, "How much money do you have?"

She blanched then answered in a low voice, "About two-hundred dollars."

I said, "Look, save that for a rainy day or for part of your job hunt. If you stay here, it's free room and board. No strings, no obligations. Just pay it forward some day."

She thought about it for another ten seconds. "Yes, I'll stay." Her eyes teared up, and she turned and hugged me. It wasn't a passionate 'come on' hug; it was just a warm, hug of gratitude.

I helped her bring a few more things in from her car and then straightened up the kitchen so I could head for bed.

As I started to go off to my part of the house, I said to her, "Oh, by the way, you might hear me going out for a bit around six a.m. I go down to the beach about that time to ... umm, to think and clear my head."

She nodded in somewhat puzzled understanding of what I'd just said.

I slept well that night undisturbed by so many of the demons that had haunted me over the past months.

*****

At the beach the next morning I seemed to center myself more easily than usual. My mind drifted, and I let it drift instead of trying to force an unnatural solitude into my head. After the sunrise, I became aware of two important things that I should do: "Help someone other than yourself" and "Give love unconditionally." I didn't question either; I was learning not to judge as much. A few minutes later I picked up my mat and went to the car.

As I drove home I picked up two coffees and a newspaper for Marilyn but when I arrived home a little after seven o'clock, she was still asleep.

I puttered quietly in the kitchen, eating a light breakfast, and reading the paper. About half-past seven she padded into the kitchen from the guest room. Her hair was beautifully tousled with a lock of her golden blond hair hanging over one squinted eye. She looked amazingly sexy in a white t-shirt that hung down just past her hips and teased as to whether it would reveal anything further. She had beautiful and shapely legs, the kind you'd see in an advertisement for fine stockings or perfume.

She came up to me as I held the cup of coffee out to her with a weak smile on her face. She took a sip of the coffee then came and kissed me on the cheek.

"Oh, you are going to spoil me so while I am here. This is marvelous service I could get used to," she said in a slightly hoarse morning voice.

"My pleasure, m'lady."

She slid onto a high stool next to me, unintentionally flashing me a microsecond view of a pink thong and the very top of her shapely legs. She caught me looking and smiled.

"I bought you a morning paper so you can check out the Help Wanted section. Sunday's paper has the better ads though." I pushed the paper open to the Classifieds section to her.

She nodded groggily and drank some more coffee. Her eyes were opening slowly to the bright morning light coming in from the patio.

I fixed her some cereal and juice that she devoured.

After breakfast, she went back to her part of the house and freshened up and dressed in shorts and a light top. She was more alert when she came back out; she also looked as though she was ready to start the changes in her life.

Since I'd done a lot of recruiting and hiring I volunteered to help her get her thoughts organized. We sat for a while and discussed her previous work, her skills and her earning history. She'd been earning $55,000 at the steel company she'd just left and usually got a ten-percent bonus too. I homed in on her computer skills since these were usually the tipping point in today's job market. Overall I was impressed with her background.

Instead of just opening the paper and looking at the ads (which I doubted would provide any real insight into the local job market), we outlined her skills, objectives and background and put together a good resume and cover letter.

As we did this I could see her confidence filling into a void she'd apparently been left with by her husband. When I commented on this, she kissed me on the cheek again and said, "I know whom to thank for THAT." I think I blushed.

We had a quick lunch and looked in the newspaper at which companies were advertising for jobs; however, the ads were not slanted to Marilyn's skills or salary level. I brought out another computer, and we sat at my dining room table, went on the Internet and looked up the larger companies in the Sarasota area. We sorted them favoring manufacturing operations or those likely to have some sort of sales and supply chain management issues. When we were finished, we had a list seventy companies likely to hire someone like Marilyn. We'd also expanded our search to Bradenton, the town just north of Sarasota, because they had some good industrial companies in the area.

She accepted some gentle recommendations I made to put the real estate industry and their construction suppliers low on her list and to elevate straight manufacturing companies that shipped their products more globally. Further, we looked for companies close to the same size as the one she'd just left. We researched our top tier of companies and talked about the pros and cons of working for each.

By the time we stopped, it was four o'clock. I knew that calling for job information or inquiries on a Friday afternoon would not be productive, so I talked Marilyn into putting on a swimsuit and joining me for a walk down the beach. She was excited at the idea and scampered off to change. She'd never seen the Gulf of Mexico.

Marilyn in a two-piece swimsuit was a heavenly vision of long beautiful legs, and angles, curves and bumps topped by a long blond hair and a pretty smile. I grabbed some beach towels from the closet after I'd changed to my suit and we headed out to Lido Beach.

We walked the entire beach from Big Pass and the State Park all the way up to New Pass and back. We gathered dozens of shells she thought worth saving in a net bag I'd brought and often waded in the cool water, although neither of us went swimming all the way. We walked close to each other, and I basked in the closeness I had to this beautiful creature. We bumped and brushed against each other frequently as we walked north. On our return trip, we held hands the whole way back. I was as nervous and excited as I'd been when I was thirteen and went on my first real date. I was also aware of the obvious bruise on her left side that she'd brought with her from Ohio.

We drove back to the house to clean up and change for dinner. I'd suggested we eat out so I could drive her around a few areas of Sarasota. I must admit, however, I was not rushing to see Marilyn cover up her body. It was SO easy on the eyes.

I'd dressed and was pouring some wine when Marilyn appeared from the guest room in a lovely light summer frock. She had on spike heels too, my favorite, and had pulled her hair back in a gorgeous French twist. She'd applied a subtle bit of make up to add some further tone to the sun she'd picked up during our walk. She had a sweater over her arm. I held out a glass of Chardonnay to her and she accepted it with a smile.

"Oh, I will be so in your debt when I get a job and leave," she said with a laugh. She came close and hugged me as she held the glass away so it wouldn't spill. I kissed her forehead as it went by. I felt two things in quick succession too: first, Marilyn was not wearing a bra and I felt her erect nipples as they grazed my chest during our hug; second, I felt more than just a twinge in my groin telling me I was excited at that fact as well as at Marilyn overall.

I wanted to pull her to me again, but decided I'd let her set the pace for any kind of relationship we might develop. I was still not sure how she was feeling given her decision to leave her husband in Ohio and escape to Florida. Was she healing rapidly? Were there still open mental wounds?

Then, my mind wrestled with my own situation. Here I am a mid-fifties man, graying hair, pretty good shape, but old enough to be her father. Surely, I started out to be her mentor and guide. She wouldn't be interested in me and after the months I've just been through I need to do penance perhaps. I got down on myself and convinced myself I wasn't worthy of any serious attention by Marilyn or any other woman at this stage.

I snapped myself back from my thoughts and returned to being the perfect host and guide. After a glass of wine we drove downtown and headed to one of my favorite places, the Selva Grill on Main Street. I'd called and gotten us a table by the sidewalk so we could watch people stroll by. The food was superb. After dinner, we walked around part of the City ending at a bookstore. She held my arm tightly all during our walk. I bought Marilyn a local business paper, and a couple of magazines she'd looked interested in. She never left my side as we browsed.

At home, I hated to call it a night and so did she. I suggested an aperitif on the patio after we'd changed for bed, and she accepted. I was pleased yet again when those long legs appeared beneath the t-shirt she was using as a nightshirt. I poured our drinks and carried them outside; Marilyn followed.

I set the small goblets on the table and sat in one of the comfortable chairs around the table. Instead of sitting next to me, Marilyn came and sat in my lap. She put her arm around my neck, gave me a megawatt kiss, and said, "Thank you for today. I've never had anyone so on my side as you are." The next kiss was even hotter.

She cuddled into my chest. I couldn't help but feel her almost naked body against mine and so I hardened. She had to be able to feel me. Oh well.

After a while, she turned to take her drink but I stopped her. Instead, I sipped her drink and then moved to kiss her again. She put her mouth on mine, and I injected the small amount of the smooth sweet liqueur I'd sipped into her mouth, followed by my tongue. She moaned and hummed in happiness at the event and acceptance of the fluid and my tongue. It was a very sensual moment for both of us. We kissed again, and the sparks were flying.

"Oh please do that again," she whispered.

I again took a generous sip of her Grand Marnier, and we French kissed again, with me injecting the fluid into her mouth. The sparks flew, and the French kiss became several dozen. She was moaning and squirming in my lap too, actions that were getting me more aroused than ever.

"And again," she repeated in a sexy whisper.

We repeated the process several more times. Marilyn pulled up her t-shirt slightly and took one of my hands and placed it on her exposed full breast. I started rubbing and kneading her mounds feeling their fullness, weight, texture, and soon enough their sensitivity and responsiveness to my touch. With a sense of passion, she brought her lips back to mine and gave me another soulful kiss. She then sipped my liqueur and returned the favor of being my new favorite delivery mechanism for the drink. We continued in that way for many minutes.

After being active under her shirt during this time, I moved to push it up and even off her body. She peeled the shirt up over her head without hesitation. I immediately moved to tongue her nearest breast and nipple. Neither of us was disappointed with her response to my move. Her moans and excitement were evident as I roamed with my lips from her lips to her breasts. She squirmed in my lap obviously aware of the effect she was having on me.

At one point I sipped my liqueur and then slavered it over one breast, letting the liquid seep from my mouth onto her globe. This generated some extra excitement from her as she watched me do this. She clutched my head to her breast at the little mess I had made and groaned in a sexy and inviting way as I used my tongue to clean it up.

She was wearing a thong. After many minutes of focusing on her face, neck, and breasts, I ran my hand down her flat stomach and along the edge of her thong. Her whole body vibrated with the move; a shudder went through her but I attributed it to the cool night air and my light touch. Later I was to learn that she'd had a small orgasm at that instant.

I played along the edge of her thong with my fingers as my tongue romanced her nipples and the curves of her breasts. She cradled my head and encouraged my every move. Occasionally we'd repeat the liqueur kisses I'd started with.

Finally, we looked at our empty glasses, Marilyn said in a low sexy voice, "There's no excuse now I guess. We need a new activity. How about you make love to me?"

"I can think of nothing in the world I'd rather do," I responded quietly.

Marilyn rose and turned to me in her near nakedness. She pressed her body against mine, ground her hips into my groin, and kissed me with another deep kiss that had to be lighting up the nearby sky. I had my eyes closed but could still see the fireworks.

She started to lead me to her room, but I pulled her with me to the master suite. "Come this way. Bigger bed. More room."

As we reached the bed, Marilyn stooped and removed her thong and tossed it aside. I shed my clothing in a millisecond, and we stood and rubbed out bodies together, relishing the skin-to-skin contact we were making with our nude bodies. We lavished kisses over one another.

My cock was standing out at almost a ninety-degree angle from my body. Marilyn captured it between her legs and lightly pumped her hips back and forth to massage my rod with the small amount of fluffy blond hair she had left around her pussy. She was almost clean-shaven.

I pulled her to the bed and then pulled her over me. We embraced, and then she rose, grasped my cock, and rubbed the end against her pussy. She was moist almost to the point of dripping like a faucet onto my body. Only one swipe along her slit and I was fully lubricated.

"Oh God, I want you so," she panted to me. "I've never been this wet before."

"I think you can tell the feeling is mutual," I whispered back as I leaned up and kissed her.

She sank her body down on mine in one slow but effective stroke. She had her head back in ecstasy as my cock penetrated her body. At the end of that stroke the head of my cock was pushed against her cervix, our pelvic bones were pushed together, and we ready for serious lovemaking.

Marilyn came forward and rubbed her erect nipples across my chest several times. I, of course, reached up tentatively to fondle her breasts and pinch her nipples; I noted the positive effect the move had on her. I could feel her slow moving pussy clench my cock each time I pinched her; she was moaning, "More, more."

We started moving in a beautiful slow synchronous rhythm with one another. I was meeting her down strokes with an upstroke of my own. We started to generate the sound of our moist bodies slapping together -- moist as her body fluids leaked more girl juice onto me that was spread by our contact and motions.

I clearly had an urgency to this union. It had been almost two years since I'd been close to a woman like this; somehow my hand was in a far inferior league to an event such as this.

Marilyn also appeared to have an urgency to merge and reach a climax. We sensed each other and increased our tempo. I was holding her hips and yanking her down into to me, thereby maximizing the penetration I was making into her body. I couldn't recall ever being harder or longer than I was with her.

She started making little squeaking sounds of joy and passion on each stroke. They were getting closer and closer together as we now pounded into each other. I was getting sweaty and panting with the effort and pleasure that washed over me.

I reached up and pinched both of her nipples simultaneously and hard. The effect was electric. I could feel her vaginal muscles ripple around my cock as her orgasm began. This was all it took for me to climax as well. We went into our love spasms simultaneously; both of us arching our backs and then moaning to announce our arrival at heaven's door.

I knew she felt me worthy; the insecurities I had hours before about myself were groundless. She had resurrected me and justified my existence in this single wave of pleasure as I jetted my cum into her body.