What If

"Only...this..." she sighed pleasurably, a warning, a reminder to me perhaps, though I persisted. Still rubbing, angling, rubbing, but now bumping the head of my cock at the sweet opening before me.

"Rick, no! You know we can't, that I won't!" She finally admonished me worriedly.

"But I love you Teresa," I spoke. Words I had of course said before, but I meant them, as I meant them now too. But perhaps placing a cost on the worth of them as I hungrily pursued my own selfish desire. But even as I did, I saw images, felt the renewed flame of lustful guilt engulfing me, even to the extent that the image of Teresa's mother now filled my head. I pushed, heard Teresa's cry of alarm. Her hands coming up to forcefully push me off and away from her. I'm not sure I even realized that I had in fact attempted to impale her, but her eyes told me otherwise of course.

"Take me home," she said simply. "Now!"

**Anguish and remorse**

I of course tried several times to call her the following day. But she refused to answer any of my calls. Finally her mother answered.

"Please Darlene, I need to speak to her."

"She doesn't want to talk to you right now," she told me, her tone of voice telling me in an instant that she too was upset with me. "What the hell did you do to her anyway?" She asked. Which told me at least, that Teresa hadn't said much, but the implication of that said enough.

"I...I didn't do anything. She...she stopped me," I finally admitted. "And she had every right to do so...I was stupid!" I blurted out.

"Yes...you were," she said and then hung up the phone on me.

I kept trying to call her for several days, but she repeatedly refused to speak with me. Eventually, all I received was a busy tone, telling me then that either she or her mother had taken the phone off the hook rather than sit there and listen to its insistent ringing. I finally gave up, figuring that perhaps when she cooled down, she'd maybe, hopefully contact me.

It was a full week before she finally did.

Seeing her actually standing there at the door was both a shock as well as relief. "Teresa!" I said pleasantly surprised, grateful, joyful, until I saw the stoned expression on her face. She held out her hand to me.

"Here," she said dropping my high school ring back into the palm of my hand. "I think we need to be a part for a while," she informed me. "I need time to think about us, about any possible future," she then said. "And I can't do that...being with you, not now...not for a while yet, if at all," she then added. "Don't contact me again, or try to reach me. Just leave me alone...give me time. I need time to think about all this." With that, she turned and effectively disappeared from my life.

It was a weird period of time for all of us. The Vietnam conflict was at its height, and though I had in fact gone back to school, I was only doing so part time. And though Teresa even then was still very much in my thoughts, I had since heard through mutual friends, she was in fact seeing, and dating someone. My heart ached, my hopes died...and with that, any hope whatsoever that the two of us would ever be together again.

And then they announced the draft. I remember sitting in front of the TV, watching and listening as they drew out numbers based on a person's birthday. I sat in a state of shock as my number was very early on called. Number 12. I remember mom crying, almost hysterically. Dad on the other hand, encouraging me to enlist, to create my own fate and circumstance rather than having it dictated to me. It seemed like the lesser of two evils at the time. So I did, the very next day, signing up...enlisting in the Navy. I had ninety days before I was expected to report for boot camp. My life and future was once again about to change.

Just two weeks before actually leaving, I received a phone call late one night from Darlene of all people.

"I heard you enlisted," she told me. I felt a sliver of excitement upon hearing that. Obviously Teresa must have heard it from someone as well, had told and informed her mother. I wondered if this might be a bridge to our meeting, seeing one another again. But it wasn't. "Can we meet someplace?" She asked.

Still hopeful, I agreed of course, agreeing to meet her at a local nearby restaurant in a hotel. She was waiting for me in the bar when I came in. Ironically not old enough to drink legally, but old enough to fight and die for my country. She stepped from the bar, taking my hand in hers.

"I have a room," she said simply. "Thought it would be easier to talk there than here in the lobby." I thought nothing of it, following her upstairs to her room. She sat down on the edge of the bed even though there were chairs nearby we could sit on. She patted a spot on the bed with her hand, inviting me over to sit next to her. Though cautious now, I remained curious, even optimistic in a way.

"How's...how's Teresa?" I ventured, though sitting down next to her, not too close, wanting to keep and maintain some distance, now feeling a bit awkward and uncomfortable at being here.

"You need to let her go," she said responding to that. "She's seeing someone else now. She's happy, and content, so you need to let her go."

"Yeah, I heard that," I said feeling sick to my stomach at hearing the words, but then asking, once again curious. "Why did you want to see me then?"

"Mainly, because I heard you'd be leaving soon," she said. "I wanted to see you, I wanted...to be with you."

I sat looking at her, the turmoil in my mind, my heart doing summersaults. "What do you mean?" I asked, already knowing the answer perhaps, but nevertheless, still wanting to hear it, to hear it clarified.

"I want to make love with you. I want you...to fuck me."

And god help me, that's what we did. After everything I had just been told, had confirmed, in my mind...if I couldn't be with Teresa, then I would accept the next best thing. In a way then, in a very bizarre, stupid way...I would finally be with her, in a sense perhaps. Or so I thought. And so it was, I lost MY virginity that night, not to Teresa, but to her mother. Was it good? Yes. Admittedly it was. We enjoyed and pleasured one another throughout the night. I lost track of the number of orgasms we both had and shared with one another. And though the mystery and wonder of it all had finally been revealed to me, I left early on in the morning with an emptiness that I knew would never be filled.

I never saw Darlene again. But I did see Teresa, the day before I actually flew out to finally attend boot camp.

I had been invited to a going away party in my honor by a group of friends, many of which Teresa and I had both palled around with. Midway through the evening, and after several illegal drinks where I was just then starting to put on a pretty nice buzz, one of my buddies approached me.

"Hey buddy, someone wants to speak to you."

"Oh yeah? Who?" I asked.

"Teresa. She's out back...waiting for you."

"Teresa? Here?"

"Yeah, she's waiting for you, said it was important."

Once again with my heart suddenly beating wildly, I half dashed outside, spotting her immediately as she turned towards me. And yeah, you guessed it...she was wearing my favorite, magical sweater again too. She looked beautiful, a feast for sore eyes. Whatever had happened between us, whatever she'd done, the things I'd done...I knew could be worked through, forgiven, amended. Someway, somehow.

"Teresa," I half prayed just standing there looking at her. She walked slowly towards me, eyes sad, remorseful, or so it seemed. She stood briefly in front of me for a moment longer, looking into my eyes. And then she slapped me harder than I've ever been slapped before...or since.

"You stupid, stupid bastard!" She cried out. "You actually went out and fucked my own mother! How could you?"

I couldn't say anything. The fact she even knew was bewildering enough. Obviously...for whatever reason or purpose, Darlene had told her we had.

"You couldn't wait. Couldn't give me the time I asked for, the time I told you I needed to see where I was, see how I truly felt about you...about us. My mistake, in telling my mother that I was thinking about it...thinking about us again. And what do you go and do? You seduce my own mother instead, you sleep with her...you fuck her, because you couldn't have me. Well...so be it, I hope you can live with that."

"Teresa, it's not like that..." I tried. "You don't understand..."

"Don't even bother trying to explain it Rick. The bottom line is...you fucked her didn't you. I know you did, because she told me specific things, things only she could know if you actually had. Don't ever try calling me, or seeing me again. I don't want anything to ever do with you again...not now, or ever! Understood?"

And with that, she left. All the years we had known one another, all the times spent, good and bad, had suddenly and dramatically come to a complete and final finish.

**Forty years later**

I had only gone to one high school reunion. My tenth. And though I was actually hopeful I might see her there, she didn't attend. I had of course lost complete track of her shortly after entering the service, and then four years later returning. A mutual friend of ours filled in a few of the missing pieces, which ironically enough, made me both sad and angry with myself all over again.

Shortly after our final breakup, the guy she'd been seeing and dating actually ran around telling everyone, that he'd finally "nailed her". The two of them broke up shortly after that. Teresa had likewise moved out of the house, now living on her own, though I heard nothing more of her relationship with her mother, nor where she actually disappeared to after that.

Like I said, the years went by. I myself now married to a beautiful and loving woman. A woman who now knew my past, and my history, which included Teresa of course.

When word reached me that there was actually going to be a forty year class reunion, my wife convinced me to go, though I hadn't gone to any others since the tenth. I briefly, honestly wondered if Teresa might herself actually be there. Something my darling wife was obviously aware that I might be thinking about.

"We should go," she said finally convincing me. "Might be interesting to see if she's even there, finally put the ghosts to bed as it were."

I finally agreed, and so we did. And yes, she was there, the two of us spotting one another almost immediately. I of course introduced my wife to her. Teresa herself currently single again, though the whys behind that we didn't get into. I was surprised when she asked if she could sit with us at our table. Another mutual female friend of ours likewise joining us. So now, there I sat, Teresa on one side, my wife on the other as we sat through, and laughed at old photos of our formal selves, and sat listening to embarrassing moments and stories. Even one picture of Teresa and I standing at the side of my car together, "High School Sweethearts", the caption read.

I felt Teresa's hand come up taking mine in hers. My other held in my wife's hand. Sitting there sandwiched between the past and the present.

"Makes you wonder, what if... doesn't it?" She said only then turning towards me, though then looking over towards my wife. "Though I daresay, things probably worked out for the best either way."

I leaned over then and kissed her, on the cheek. Giving her hand a final affectionate little squeeze before letting it go again.

-End-