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[The people in this story have somehow solved the problems others see about unprotected sex (they don’t have and won’t get STD’s or AIDS) They also have decided that certain other beliefs of “normal” society don’t work well for them. There are sexual acts like coitus, oral and manual genital manipulation, hickies, more than two people sharing sexual activities, and watching. Oh, and incest too. You are invited to vote and comment on the story. Typically less than 5% of readers vote and less than 10% of those who vote leave a comment. Be unique, do both!]
She left. She left her job, her home, her friends, her church, her credit cards, her car and she left me.
That last one is the one that was toughest to take. I was stunned. Let me back up just a little. Sandi and I had been together since our freshman year at UCLA. She and I met at a track meet. We were watching. When it was over we bought food and sat on the grass for a picnic with a hundred other people and somehow she sat by me.
We hit it off and before we graduated we were man and wife. We were married in a small ceremony at a park with some friends. Everything was great, I thought. She didn’t want kids and I wasn’t all that big on them either. We worked hard, played hard and loved a lot.
Our careers allowed us to live at the beach, enjoy lots of activities and great vacations. We had friends. We enjoyed every moment we were together.
Twice a year I flew back to Boston for a week of meetings at the company head office. The last one was six months ago. Sandi took me to LAX and kissed me good-bye at the curb. It was a good enough kiss a passer by said, “Get a room!” We laughed and she drove off.
Whenever I went to Boston, I called home every night. On the last trip we had phone sex the first night I was gone. The second night I called at a little after eight her time. No answer. I thought of five good reasons she might not be there. At nine-thirty I called again. No answer. Then it hit me, no answer and no answering machine! I set my alarm and at two in the morning, L.A. time I called again. No answer.
At nine that morning I called her work. Her assistant Karen answered. “Karen, this is Nick. Where is Sandi?”
The pause was full of everything except information.
“You don’t know?”
“No. Where is she?”
“Her last day was last Friday. She’s gone. Took her last check with her. I don’t know where she is.”
I called friends and the pastor of our church. No one knew or no one was talking. I left the meeting two days early and flew home. When I got home her car was parked behind mine. The house looked fine, except all the little things that were hers were gone. The bathroom was almost empty. No blow dryer, curling iron, lipsticks, perfume, pink razors. Her closet was empty and clean. Her chest of drawers, empty and fresh paper on the bottoms of the drawers.
In the kitchen I opened the fridge and saw an envelope with my name typed on it.
I opened it and read her note. “I left you. It is cruel to do this but it’s done. I needed you and I used you. I am sorry. We were not legally married. The guy who performed the ceremony was an acting student. You can’t get a divorce and you don’t need one. I will never be back in L.A. For your own sake don’t contact me. Thank you for the best years. I will cherish them. It was good and now it’s over. Sandi”
I sat on the floor of the kitchen and did nothing for hours. Some time during those hours I did manage to close the fridge. Over the next few days I discovered she had prepared to leave and then, just left. Her car was in my name and she left it. She even paid the lease on our place for three months ahead.
A week later I was back at work. A week after that I went to church and the pastor asked about Sandi. I showed him the note. We talked. I was going through the motions of being alive. Her words kept ringing in my ears. “We were not legally married.” Maybe according to the state of California but my head and my heart were married! I checked and she was correct, California had no record of our marriage.
Over the next few months I got into a cold routine. I became a robot. My programming got me out of bed, dressed, to work, back home, and kept me alive so the next morning I could do it again. I made it through an entire NFL season without watching a single game. I didn’t walk along the beach once. I didn’t take my car or hers to a car wash.
One day I noticed a moving van in front of the house next door. I briefly wondered if the people were moving in or out. I didn’t see anyone and I couldn’t remember what the people looked like who lived next door.
When I came home from work a few days later, I noticed Sandi’s car was shining and clean. The ground around it was wet. Someone had washed her car. I had the sudden thought that Sandi was back. The door almost came off its hinges as I burst into the house.
She wasn’t there.
I sat down in the living room and cried. I hadn’t cried in months. Seeing the car had brought back all the pain anime porno and missing. Eventually, I fell asleep right there in the living room.
In the morning my programming took over and I showered, dressed and headed to work. When I stepped out of the house I stopped. My car was as clean and shiny as Sandi’s.
At work I forgot about the cars and focused on getting through the day. When I went back out to my car at four that afternoon I wondered about who might have washed it.
The deck behind my house is about ten feet above the beach. There were many days when we sat out on the deck naked and no one walking by saw us. Not only was the deck ten feet high but it had a three foot high wooden fence along the sides. I hadn’t been out on the deck once since Sandi left.
My car stopped two feet from Sandi’s and I wondered if it would even start. I walked past it and around to the back door. When I climbed the stairs I saw the deck had been swept and the chairs and chaise lounges cleaned. Then I noticed a woman on one of the chaise lounges. I cleared my throat and she sat up, covering her breasts in the process.
“You’re on my deck.”
“You don’t act like it’s your deck.”
“It is attached to my house.”
“Oh? Does someone live here? When I moved in next door I saw a yard with dead plants, two filthy cars, and a deck with a year’s dirt on it. I assumed no one lived here.”
“You’re right. I quit living a long time ago. You want to use the deck? Go ahead.” I opened the back door and went inside. Later, while I heated something in the microwave for dinner I noticed she was still sitting on the deck.
The next night when I came home I noticed new plants by the house next door. A few nights later I saw three pots of flowers on my deck. On Friday as I drove home from work, I realized I hadn’t changed the oil in my car in a year. I stopped at the station not too far from my house and left it. I told the mechanic at the gas station I’d walk back for it in the morning.
I broke my own programming by stopping for a small pizza on the way home. I walked in the sand from the pizza place home, carrying my shoes. I slept really well that night and woke late. When I looked out the bedroom window at the beach I noticed my neighbor on the chaise lounge. She had on a g-string bikini bottom and a baseball cap. It said, “Cubs.”
I couldn’t stop looking at her body. The last tits I had seen were Sandi’s the morning she took me to LAX. My neighbor didn’t look like Sandi. Sandi had DD cup breasts with elongated areola and smallish nipples. Her breasts had always stayed white. She only went topless on the deck when she couldn’t get burned. My new neighbor was brown all over. Her breasts were maybe a B cup. The areola were puffy and toped by nipples the size of blueberries. The right breast had a scar on it, out near her arm pit. The scar was round, and red like it was still healing.
I pulled myself away from the window and got dressed for my walk to the station. I figured to get some breakfast after I got my car. I opened the back door and my neighbor sat up, hands over her tits.
“I didn’t think you were home! I’m sorry.”
“I left my car down at the station for an oil change last night. If you’d like to go for a walk, I’ll buy you breakfast after I get my car back.”
“I’m not dressed.”
“I’ll wait. I’m not in a hurry. I’ll even go back inside so you can have privacy while you go for clothes.” I went inside and closed the door. I didn’t look. I didn’t need to.
Three minutes later she knocked on the back door and I went out. She wore white shorts and a white bikini top with a thin, flowered print blouse over the bikini top.
Half way to the station she asked, “Why did you invite me along?”
“I honestly don’t know. I’ve been a hermit for months.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“Did you ever ask your parents why they named you Peter?”
“You changed your name to Peter?”
“No. Pete. When I was in high school there were five boys in my class with the same name. My last name is Peterson so the coach started calling me Pete. I’ve been Pete ever since.”
“Oh. That makes more sense than someone naming their son the slang term.”
“I knew a guy named Richard and his family called him Dick.”
“How horrible for him.”
“Worse. His Dad was also called Dick. I called his house once and when a female answered, I asked to speak to Dick. She said, “Big Dick or Little Dick?” I said I didn’t know either one well enough to answer the question.”
She laughed and for the first time in months, so did I.
“I’m Cass. I know, my parents loved the Mommas and the Poppas. I do too.”
“Can you sing?”
“Not like her!”
We arrived at the station and the guy told me what I owed and I paid him. We got in the car and automatically I drove us to a place where Sandi and I used to eat. We walked in and I saw two people I knew. They waved and we joined them.
I made the introductions asyalı porno and we all ordered. Cass ordered French Toast and I ordered blueberry pancakes. After I ordered I wondered if her nipples influenced my choice of blueberries.
“You’re smiling. What about?” Cass asked.
“I cannot tell you here. Ask me later, Ok?”
The breakfast banter was about the neighborhood, the upcoming volleyball contest and the latest word in new restaurants. I had been out of it so long Mark and Kath had decided I moved away. No mention of Sandi was made.
Cass and I left them in the restaurant and headed home. “Can I ask questions?” I asked.
“I guess so. I can always tell you it’s none of your business if I don’t want to answer.”
“You live alone. You’re beautiful. What’s up with that?”
“Up until six months ago I didn’t live alone. I was married. We were in love. One night we went out for dinner and a movie. When we came out of the movie I heard three shots. Two of them hit my husband. He was dead before he hit the ground.”
She cried. I pulled to the curb and shut off the motor. I held her and she sobbed for a long time. I knew where the third round landed. I’d seen the scar.
She stopped crying and wiped her wet face with a tissue I gave her. “I’m sorry.”
“I still cry too. I was married and I loved her too. One day she left. No warning. No legal battles. She just left. Some days I feel like someone ripped my insides out. Other days, I’m numb.”
The car got us home and Cass looked at Sandi’s car. “Hers?”
I nodded. “Can I buy it?”
“You don’t have a car?”
“It died just before I got here. I let them bury it out in the dessert.”
“Come with me, please.”
We went inside and I found the keys, hanging right where Sandi put them. I handed them to Cass. “Go see if it will even start. If it starts it’s yours. If it doesn’t I’ll call the auto club and we’ll get it fixed.”
She took the keys and went out to the car. It didn’t want to start, but it did. I went out and told her to let it run for a while to let the battery charge. I sat in the car with her. It was hard on me. She could tell, and she wanted me to stay.
We talked about her needing a job. About how the house belonged to her uncle but his wife hated the beach so she was going to rent it from them as soon as she got a job. We talked about how nights were the worst. We spent a lot of our time together not talking at all.
After the car had run for half an hour I moved my car and she moved the Malibu to her driveway. She came back to me and started taking the house key off the keychain.
“Leave it there, please. We’re neighbors. Where I grew up most of the houses didn’t even have locks. You need a cup of sugar, come get it. Mi casa es su casa.”
“My house is your house.”
“We haven’t talked price for the car.”
“I want ten percent of your first twelve paychecks. Ten percent of the gross.”
“I’m not going to make very much at first. You sure?”
“I’m sure. It will be happier with you driving it that it was sitting dead in my driveway reminding me she left.”
“Ok. Can I make dinner for you?”
“Any evening you want. I have become a gormet of microwave cooking.”
“Isn’t that pronounced gourmet?”
“Only when the food is good.” She smiled and said, “Come over at seven. I promise nothing will come out of the microwave.”
“I would like hot food. If you don’t use a microwave how can you make it hot?”
“I use magic.”
“Seven. I’ll be there.”
“Don’t get dressed up.”
We went inside our respective homes and I sat down and turned on the TV. At five minutes of seven I walked out my back door and took the thirty steps to her door. It was open. The smells coming out of the door were from heaven.
“Come in. A little wine?”
“If you’re having some.”
“I hope you like Cajun food.”
“It depends. If it’s so hot it cooked itself, I won’t like it. If they’d serve it in an old folks home, I won’t like it. In between, I think I’ll like it.”
She turned from the stove with a spoon full, aimed at me. I opened and she inserted. It was perfection.
“Jambalaya. Oh, my, I like having you for a neighbor.”
“I promised nothing from a microwave.”
“Wow! Can I tell you something? I feel good. I haven’t felt good in a long time. Thank you.”
“Thank you. I felt better since we went for a walk than I’ve felt since…” Her voice trailed off. She served two bowls of jambalaya and we ate. We didn’t run out of things to talk about. At nearly ten I realized I needed to go to work the next day. I thanked Cass for a wonderful day and evening and went home. She stood by the door as I left and I wondered if she expected or wanted a kiss.
I was headed for work a little early the next day. When I got home the car wasn’t in the driveway next door. I wondered where she was.
When she came home she bounced up my back stairs and knocked. I answered and she gave me the backroom casting porno good news. She landed a job. Office manager for a branch office of a utility company.
I invited her to dinner to celebrate. She asked which Stoffer’s meal I was making. We went to a Chinese restaurant. I had her home before ten. We parted in the driveway. No kisses.
I was asleep before ten-thirty. At about one I was awaken by the sound of gun fire. Three shots. Then the sound of a helicopter and a police car. The helicopter moved away after a couple minutes and I started to go back to sleep.
I heard the sound of a key in my back door. Then I heard the door open and then close. I waited. The sound of bare feet approached my bed and she slid under the covers with me.
“I heard shots!” She whispered. I wrapped her in my arms and said, “You’re safe. Stay right here.”
She was shaking and I felt drops fall from her face onto my chest. I held on.
I woke up first. The sun was up and by glancing at my clock I knew I had half an hour before my alarm would sound. Cass had turned and I was spooned against her back and butt. She was naked. My arm was over her body and she held my hand in hers.
I breathed in her smell and it stirred my libido into life. When I poked her in the butt she woke up and said, “Good Morning. Are you serious?”
“Serious? Yes. And I’m an adult man. Just because I’m hard doesn’t mean you’re in danger. I don’t rape.”
“How about pillage and plunder?”
“We can discuss those options.”
“If I turn and face you, how do you feel about morning breath kisses?”
“It depends. If the kiss is a good morning kiss I like them. If it’s a see you later kiss, I don’t like them. If it’s a promise for later and I still need to go kiss, I like that kind too.”
She turned and said, “How about a I don’t have to go anywhere today and I want to feel you inside me kiss?”
“Haven’t had one of those in recent memory. Let’s see how it goes.”
She molded her body against mine and her tongue invaded my mouth. Her exploration was through. Her hands and mine explored the available skin.
She opened up for me and we joined slowly and carefully. I avoided her scared breast and slowly followed her signals on how to please her body. She cried a little. She held on tight and she wrapped her legs around me as well as her arms.
As her climax started she whispered, “Good-bye Mark.” Then she surrendered and sobbed as her body shook beneath me. We stayed in bed for a long time.
We kissed and stayed touching for a long time. Finally, she said, “Mark was my husband.”
“I thought so.”
“You are the first man I’ve been with since he…”
“I guessed. Thank you. I’m making it mean something that you feel safe enough to trust me.”
“You haven’t been hitting on me. You’ve been a friend. I could feel your pain and I could tell you felt mine.”
“Remember when we went to breakfast?”
“Yes. You didn’t want to tell me why you were smiling.”
“I was smiling because I realized I ordered blueberry pancakes because your nipples reminded me of blueberries.”
“You spied on me?”
“Guilty. When I saw you on the deck I looked. You are beautiful.”
“There is an ugly scar.”
“I saw it. I didn’t touch it last night or this morning.”
“You are considerate, too.” We were quiet for a time. “Why do you think she left?”
“I don’t have a clue. I have thought of many reasons but none of them make sense. There should have been a hint. Some upset, a fight an admission that she fell for someone else. I have no idea.”
“Can I come back tonight?”
“Yes. When you crawled into bed with me I realized I missed sleeping with someone, someone I care about. It helps that I like you, know you a little and there seems to be something between us.”
My alarm went off and our days began. She wrapped in her robe and went home. I did my ritual and went to work. When I came home she was out on the deck. The g-string was the same color as her skin. She wasn’t naked, but she looked like she was. When I climbed the stairs she didn’t cover herself. I sat next to her on the chaise lounge. She sat up and we kissed.
“It feels weird, kissing you with a shirt and tie on, when I’m almost naked.”
“Then I should get undressed. Covering your body ought to be illegal.”
“Then, may I help you get undressed?”
“Sure.” We got me undressed and I sat next to her, enjoying the sunshine and the intimacy with her.
Over the next three weeks we spent lots of time sharing my deck, my bedroom and her kitchen. When she got her second pay check she brought me a check. “My first ever car payment.”
“If I can be nosey, how are you doing financially?”
“It’s tight. I’ll make it, but it’s tight.”
“Does your Uncle charge you rent?”
“Yes. He gave me a good deal but it’s still a lot of rent.”
“Consider this, you could rent the house out and charge your Uncle to manage the place.”
“If I rent the house where will I live?”
“How about here with me?”
“You mean live with you, like we were married?”
“Yes. Sandi and I lived together and we acted like we were married, and we weren’t. Now you and I can live like that, and both know we aren’t married, we just like being together.”
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