What a Long, Strange Trip It's Been

There was a moment of silence. Just one. Almost immeasurable, really, but it passed, then she answered, "No."

"Yes!" I said in response to the expected answer, then my senses processed what she had actually said. I was dumbfounded. Stupefied. The clamshell containing the ring dropped from my hand as I asked a very feeble, "What?"

"I will not marry you," she said.

"W ... Why not?"

"You're kidding me, right?" she asked. It was rhetorical, but I wanted answers.

"What ...? Why? I thought ..." I couldn't even put together enough words to form a complete sentence.

"It just wouldn't work," she finally said. "In fact, this thing between us has probably run its course, anyway."

"But ... You love me."

She yawned. "I think you need to go."

"Lillian, don't. Please. Whatever I've done, I'll fix it. I promise."

"Good-bye, Alan. It was nice while it lasted."

I was too hurt to cry. With my head bowed, I slowly made my way to the door. I opened it, took one step out, then turned and said, "You told me you would never hurt me. You said you loved me too much to do that to me."

She walked to the door and pushed it closed. I heard the latch of the deadbolt swing into place. I went home. I finished that week and the next with both work and school, and then I was Pennsylvania bound. I made up a lie as to why Lillian didn't come, and I put up a brave front the whole time I was there. Mom gave me plenty of leftovers to bring back with me and Dad sneaked a bottle of twenty-year-old scotch into my suitcase. He said it was for moments of contemplation and reflection with Lillian. I almost laughed.

I was back home, back at school, and back at work. I finished the semester with a solid 4.0 and was waiting out the additional two weeks before I would return home to Mom and Dad's for Christmas.

On the last day of class, I decided to pay an old debt. The email I sent read

Mrs. Sherman,

It has been a while. I know I still have a debt to pay you, and I would like to meet to discuss the terms. I do not wish to meet at school, though. Would you be willing to allow me to come by your house so I can pay that debt in full?

Alan Maldonado

PS: I am willing to pay any accrued interest you deem necessary on this outstanding debt.

The almost immediate reply I received read

Dear Alan,

I must admit that this is a most welcome surprise. Yes, dear. You may come by this evening any time after seven. I reside at 2112 Hampton Circle NW, just off Country Club Road.

Edna

I sent one final email. I figured if I was going to do this, she could do something for me in return.

Dear Edna,

I have one simple request: Will you please shave between your legs?

Alan

Again, immediately, I received

Dear Alan,

Yes. That will be no problem.

Anxiously Waiting,

Edna

With that little stigma out of the way, I could concentrate on the matter at hand. The truth is that me contacting Mrs. Sherman wasn't so much about paying the debt as it was about me being lonely. I needed to be in a woman's arms. I needed to hear her say that she appreciated me. I needed to feel something akin to love, regardless of how remote and fleeting it may be. Yeah, I could have probably gotten a woman my own age pretty easily, but deep down I was hoping that Mrs. Sherman would spill the beans to Lillian. That would give her the same kick in the balls that she gave me, and I wasn't averse to that idea in the least.

I had really let myself go over the course of the past few weeks, like I gave a fuck. I cleaned myself up, though, and at seven sharp I was knocking on her door. She opened it and I was a bit surprised by her appearance. She had always worn her hair in a bun, but now it streamed past her shoulders to the small of her back. She was wearing make-up, too, and the dress she wore was bright and colorful as opposed to those drab grays and blues she wore at school. "Wow, don't you look nice?" I said as I entered her home.

"I did it for you," she said with a smile.

I took her right hand and kissed it. "Thank you."

She blushed, then ushered me into the parlor where a bottle of wine awaited us. I poured, and we enjoyed a couple of glasses as we talked over my reason for being there. I knew how long she had been using students to get herself off. Lillian had told me that much. I just wanted to know why, and she forthrightly provided the answer.

"My husband died ten years ago this coming January, but his sex drive died twenty years before that. I tried everything I knew of to get him to make love to me, but he said he just wasn't interested in sex anymore. He even told me that I had his permission to have an affair, but I didn't want to do that.

"One day, I was reading an article in the paper about a nun at an all-girl Catholic school who had been arrested for molestation. It seems the punishments the good sister would mete out were to have the girls perform oral sex on her until she orgasmed. This fascinated me, and I wondered how she got away with it for so long just as I wondered how good it must have felt to receive oral gratification on a continuous basis. I wondered if I could ever do such a thing, if I would even dare, knowing that I, too, could get caught, but it seemed that the universe answered that question that very morning by delivering to me the young man who would become my first.

"It was end of semester, and the young man almost in tears came to my office. He told me that he didn't have time to study for the final because he had been working tirelessly, twelve hours a day to help pay off family debt because his alcoholic father squandered all their money. He begged me to allow him just one day to study because with this test being thirty per cent of his grade, if he didn't pass it then he would not be able to graduate. I truly sympathized with him, but I also saw my golden opportunity.

"I told him that if he would perform oral sex on me then I would allow him the extra day, and he readily agreed. I had him lock my door as I removed my panties. I then slouched in my chair, and he did as I asked him to do. In fact, he made me orgasm twice. When he stood, I saw that he had an erection. It pressed tightly against his jeans. I reached out and touched it, and then I asked him if he would like to earn some extra credit points. Without hesitation, he removed his pants and made love to me.

"That experience emboldened me to the point that over the past thirty years I have had at least one student per semester to whom I have relegated this task. I retire in a few weeks, and I am still yet to get caught."

"So, was I your last?" I asked her.

"You were," she replied. She smiled. "I think it only fitting that we ended up here, away from school, to conduct our unfinished business." She sipped at her wine, then added, "Your email mentioned accrued interest. What, exactly—"

"I want to make love to you, if you will allow it," I quickly interjected.

"Well ..." she said as a broad smile came upon her face. "I would ... Yes, Alan. I would like that very much."

I stood and held a hand out to her, "Then, shall we?"

She led me to her bedroom and I watched her as she undressed. Her body was similar to Lillian's in that she was heavy set, maybe carrying thirty more pounds. As she made to remove her bra, I kicked my shoes off, threw my shirt to the floor, and had come out of my khakis just in time for her to reveal her breasts to me. They sagged. Of course, they did. She was seventy-something years old. They were large, though, and I wanted very much to nestle my head on them. She finally removed her panties, and I saw that she had shaved like she told me she would.

I took her in my arms and said, "May I kiss you, Edna?"

"Oooh, yes," she answered.

I leaned in and softly placed my lips against hers. She was one of those tight-lipped kissers. "Relax your mouth," I told her, and she did. Not completely at first, but she soon matched my softness. I guided her to her bed. She lay down, and I slid in next to her. We continued to kiss, then I began my slow trek to her billowy breasts. She reached down and held them up for me, and when my mouth found her left nipple, she gave a soft moan. I gently sucked it for a few minutes before moving to her right, and I gave it the same attention.

I kissed my way down her belly to her freshly shorn pubis. She cocked her legs wide. Her clit was already hard and at full attention. I stuck my tongue inside her hot slit and French kissed it. She moaned loudly. I left my tongue in her as I continued to kiss her down there, then I began to slowly lick her. I still had not touched her clit. I wanted to see if I could get her off without doing so, and after a couple of minutes, I did. She moaned loudly as her legs quivered, that familiar "Pah-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p" not far behind. I took my time lapping up her juices, then I moved to her clit.

I sucked it as gingerly as I could. I was intent on making this whole experience last as long as possible. I needed that. I also needed what Edna deemed fit to give me. "Oh, Alan. I can't begin to tell you how much you being here means to me." I showed her my appreciation for that by bringing her to another orgasm. I counted thirteen in all before she called me off, and when she did, I seamlessly moved from oral to penetration.

I remained in front of her. I lifted her legs, moved closer, and eased my cock into her. "Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh! Ohhhhh!" she cried as she came again, and another "Pah-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-p," quickly followed. I began going in and out of her as slowly as I could. Her pussy was extremely tight from thirty years of disuse and I didn't want to hurt her. I continued on, and she continued to cum. I finally announced my own, and she quickly said, "Wait!"

I pulled out of her and asked, "Is something wrong?"

"It's just ... I'd like to be the one to bring you to orgasm, if you don't mind."

I smiled. "Sure." I lay beside her. She positioned herself across my lower belly, then took my dick into her mouth. It was exceptionally hot and thick with saliva. She slowly moved up and down, relishing every inch of my cock, relishing the feel of it in her mouth as she treated it like a holy artifact. I was already on edge, so it took just three minutes before, "Here it comes." She continued on at her slow pace, even as I erupted into her mouth. I felt a slight pause, a slight tightening of her mouth as she swallowed my semen, then she began to suck me again. "Oh, Edna. You don't know how badly I needed that. Thank you."

She came off me and smiled, then it faltered a bit as she said, "It's just too bad it has to end."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"You did what you said you'd do," she said. "You paid your debt to me. With interest. I can't ask for anything more than that."

She looked so sad, and probably felt just as lonely as I did, which is why I said, "I think you made a miscalculation." I took her right hand and placed it on my still-rigid cock as I added, "You forgot to account for the variable." She smiled. "Climb on up here and give me some more of your loving," and she did.

She sat on my cock and gyrated her hips at a moderate speed. I just lay there, her breasts in my hands, me moving from one nipple to the other, back and forth again and again. She seemed to be having the time of her life. She popped off seven or eight more orgasms in the twenty minutes she was atop me, and this time when I told her I was going to cum she rode me till I did. She leaned forward, kissed me, and said, "Thank you, Alan."

"No-no-no-no-no," I quickly said. "Thank you. You don't know what this has meant to me."

"Well, unless you're up for a third time, I guess this time it really is the end."

I kissed her again, then said, "I have the weekend off. If you haven't made any plans, I can stay here with you."

"You'd do that?" she asked, surprised.

"I would," I answered, "but it has to be with the understanding that once this weekend is over, that truly will be the end."

"It's more than I could ever hope for," Edna said, "So yes. I'd like it very much if you stayed."

I had to set that boundary. I knew that with my current emotional state and hers as well, an affinity could easily develop that would have me view her as Lillian's surrogate and me as a young lover who would tend to all her wildest desires, neither of which would have been good for either of us.

I did stay, though, and everything in total, I fucked her twelve times and went down on her an additional seven. I was shit for work on Monday, but a small part of me felt relieved, like I had exorcised a couple of demons.

On the 13^th I received a call. I didn't recognize the number, but I was in just enough of a pissy mood that I wanted to fuck with a telemarketer, so I answered, "Yeah?"

"Alan?"

I recognized her voice immediately. The reason I didn't recognize the number was because I had deleted her from my life, yet here she was again, and for what reason? To rain down more misery on me? "Not interested." Then I killed the connection.

A few minutes later and my phone rang again. It was her. I opened the line, and through a heavy sigh said, "What do you want?"

"I need to speak with you, Alan."

"Seems to me the time for talking is over."

"Please, Alan." I said nothing. "I never asked anything from you, Alan. Ever. Please, grant me this one request. I really need to see you." More silence on my part. "Will you meet me at Trippingers at seven, Alan? My treat?"

I looked at the time. It was six. "Yeah, sure."

"Thank you, Alan. I'll see you then. Bye for now." She sounded a little too ... buoyant, maybe? I

didn't know, and I didn't care.

I turned the TV on and listened more than watched. I kept a close eye on the time as I did, though. 6:35. 6:46. 6:57. 7:05. That was good enough. I checked my look in the mirror. I was wearing a white cotton tank top, sweat pants that had been cut into shorts, flip-flops, my hair looked like I had just rolled out of bed, and I had a six-day shadow. Perfect.

I walked into the restaurant, which wasn't fine dining but should require finer dress than I currently sported, and I spotted Lillian immediately. I walked past the maître d and went to her table. The smile on her face faltered when she recognized me. "Couldn't you have at least tried?" she asked.

"I did, but then I said, 'Fuck it.'" She shook her head in derision. "So, what is so important that you just had to see me?"

"I just want to explain myself, Alan. Will you allow me to do that?"

"What's to explain?" I asked. "I asked you to marry me, you said no, end of story."

"There's much more to it than that," Lillian said. "The reality of it is that I was looking out for your best interests."

"That's bullshit!" I said as I slammed a fist onto the table. All the patrons turned and stared.

"Please, Alan. Don't make a scene." A waiter arrived and asked what the problem was. Lillian said, "Oh, he sneezed. Sorry if it seemed like anything else."

He eyed me, then asked, "Ready to order?"

"I'll take the sixteen-ounce Porterhouse, rare to medium rare, baked potato, extra butter and sour cream, tossed salad with extra bleu cheese dressing, and a sweet tea."

"And for madame?"

I wanted so badly to say, "Her correct title is 'Mistress,'" but I left it alone.

"Actually, that sounds really good," Lillian said. "Make it two." He walked off. Lillian said, "Can we at least pretend to be civil?"

"I'm sorry," I said, "but you will have to forgive me if I still harbor any anger toward you."

"Fair enough," she said. "Oh, I saw your transcript for last semester. 4.0. Congratulations."

"Thank you. You've lost weight."

"Twenty-three pounds."

"New man in your life?"

"I've lost it because I've been so worried about you, Alan, and because of the guilt I have carried since ... you know; the incident."

"Is that what it has been relegated to? 'The incident?'"

"When you asked me to marry you, in that instant the future flashed before my eyes," Lillian began. "I saw us together, and I saw you wishing we could have a family. Yes, I could spend four thousand dollars reversing the procedure, and maybe I should have understood that because I loved you as much as I did then that was a viable option for us, but I didn't even think of it at the moment, Alan. All I could think of was that you deserved to be with someone who could give you what you want."

"At what point did we ever discuss having kids?" I asked her. "Never, and if the conversation ever came up, there were plenty of other options we could have entertained. Finding a surrogate? Adoption?" I sighed. "By deciding this on your own, you took that choice away from me, Lillian. From us."

"I know," she said, and she began to cry. The tears ran silent, but they ran deep. She looked up at me. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Alan. In the world of shit that has been my life, you and you alone were the one person I knew I could always count on. I love you now more than I ever have." She pulled her purse onto the table, rummaged through it, and produced the engagement ring. "If you ask me again, right now, I will say yes, and I promise that I will spend the rest of our lives together showing you just how thankful I am to have you in my life."

I felt a tear fall down my face. I bowed my head and lightly shook it, for I didn't know if I could give her the opportunity to hurt me again. I looked up to see she had placed the ring on the table. Her right hand covered her face as she wept. Her left lay askew next to the ring. I picked it up and looked at it. I remembered the true meaning it held the day I purchased it. It wasn't about Mistress Ibanex, and it wasn't about Tinkerbell or green apple scented oils. It wasn't about the great sex we shared or the sex we shared with others. It was about all the love I held in my heart for her, and as much as I might hate her right now, I knew I loved her that much more. I leaned forward and placed the ring on her finger.

Lillian immediately looked at me, then the ring, then me again. "A-Alan?"

I burst into tears as I said, "Will you marry me?"

"Oh God, yes," she said as she flew to my side. I took her into my arms and we kissed. "I love you so much, baby. Please forgive me. I'll never hurt you again. I promise." We stayed in that position, me sitting in my chair with her kneeling before me, and our arms wrapped around each other. The waiter happened by with our drinks. "Can we get that to go? We have some celebrating to do."

We ended up at her place. She wanted to jump straight into bed, but I took the time to shave and shower. I even brushed my teeth with the spare toothbrush I had left there. Afterward, though, we did make love. We lay together, side by side, still breathing heavily as she lit two cigarettes and passed one to me. She turned to face me and said, "The first thing I want to concentrate on is you moving in here."

"Really?"

"Oh, I'm not letting you out of my sight again."

"So, when do you want to do it?"

"Valentine's day," she quickly responded, "and do you want to do traditional vows, or write our own?"

"Why not both?" I offered.

"Yeah, why not?" She crushed out her cigarette, then asked, "Any idea what you're going to say?"

"Oh, it's already written," I said as I lightly tapped my head. "I've got it memorized."

Silence.

"How's this for a theme?" I said. "All the ushers can be dominatrixes who whip our guests to their seats?"

She burst out laughing. "Yeah, and I can dress as Mistress Ibanex and you can wear a gimp outfit. Real classy."

"We can even have ladyboys dropping from the ceiling like ninjas for some unknown reason."