Mature Man & Maiden Maureen

Mature Man & Maiden Maureen, Ch. 21

Maureen's ghostly spirit returns to Mark for one final good-bye.

Continued from Chapter 20: Mature Man & Maiden Maureen

When Carol removed my cock from her mouth, I pulled her up to me. Unable to get enough of her, I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to French kiss her. I wanted to make out with her again while feeling her through her clothes before stripping her naked. I wanted to see her tits again. I wanted to suck her nipples.

I felt her huge breasts through her blouse and bra. Then, I unbuttoned her blouse. Once her blouse was unbuttoned, I pushed open her blouse. I felt the weight of her tits through her bra. My fingers found the impressions that her nipples made through her bra. I took each one of them in my fingers through the fabric of the satin material and gently pulled them out to full erection.

"I need to suck your nipples," I whispered in her ear.

With that, immediately, sexually obliging me, she lifted her bra. As if they were two, huge, melons, I watched her breasts slowly fall in view. I loved fondling her naked breasts while sucking her erect nipples. She had such wonderful tits, so firm and so shapely, with big nipples.

I wanted to talk dirty to her, again. I wanted her to talk dirty to me, again. Yet, not going overboard with the dirty talk, with her a woman my age instead of a young slut, I didn't want to offend her or insult her. I verbalized my thoughts while hoping that she'd respond in kind.

"I love feeling you through your clothes while making out with you. I love undressing you and stripping you naked. I love your tits, Carol. I love sucking your erect nipples," I said.

Yet, with her not playing my sexy game, I could tell by her silence that my talking dirty did nothing for her now in the way that it had sexually aroused her before.

# # #

Even though she had just gotten dressed, I was surprised that she allowed me to undress her again. I hoped she'd allow me to remove her panties, but not her garter belt. Unhooking her garters from her stockings, I took my time easing down and removing her white, bikini panties. As if seeing her naked pussy for the first time, I stared at her exposed, blonde, trimmed, pubic hair and the sides of her naked ass.

Then, as if I was a magician on stage pulling out a tablecloth from a set table, with a quick wave of my hand, I removed her panties. Immediately, I mounted her and when I did, she reached her hand down and inserted me inside of her. She was wet, but not sopping wet like Colleen, Gwen, or Maureen. Still, she was plenty wet enough for me to enter her with ease.

Perhaps, because having given birth to two children she was bigger than was Colleen, Gwen, and Maureen. Still, those young women were quite, sexually experienced for their young age. Yet, I never thought of Maureen as being sexually experienced, just gently used, that is, until I came along.

Then, it hit me that I was fucking Maureen and Gwen's mother. Suddenly, I felt like the degenerate that I am. I felt that I was taking sexual advantage of her. Yet, she was so very attractive even if she was my age instead of half my age. Moreover, giving me her consensual permission to undress her and strip her naked, with her making the first, sexual moves, she willing had sex with me.

She had a few stretch marks and more wrinkles than both her daughters combined, but she could still make love. She was still very, erotically desirable. Sexually and sensually, she was still hot. I loved fucking her. I loved giving her multiple, sexual orgasms with my fingers, my tongue, and my cock.

Not a slouch in bed, she still knew how to screw. She moved her hips to the rhythm of my humping. She humped me as fast and as hard as I humped her. Definitely, for a mature woman, she was as sexually aggressive as she was sexy.

# # #

Besides, even though we haven't had coffee and breakfast, yet, horny for her body, I needed her now. I needed her more than I needed food. Making love to her and fucking her was more than just sex. This was companionship, someone to talk to, and someone to pass the time with, but even with that, it was still more than that. Carol was not just anyone, she was Maureen's mother. Still, more than that, she was my latest and, perhaps, my last lover.

If their girlfriend's looked anything like Carol, I wondered how many men wished that they could make out with their girlfriend's mother while feeling her through her clothes. I wondered how many men wished that they could slowly undress their girlfriend's mother and strip her naked. I wondered how many men wished they could have sex with their girlfriend's mother.

After having sex Colleen, Maureen's best friend, I had sex with Gwen, Maureen's sister. Now, as shocking as it was sexually exciting, I had sex with Carol, Maureen's, and Gwen's mother. Surprisingly, after having had sex with Maureen's mother, I felt closer to her than I ever before.

Truly, albeit too late, I felt as if I knew Maureen better than I did before she died. Obviously, as my grieving process, I needed to have sex with Maureen's best friend, her sister, and her mother to get me through the death of her. And now after being intimate with Carol, I dreaded her leaving me alone with my grief over her daughter.

# # #

Mature Man & Maiden Maureen, Chapter 21:

Still grieving over the loss of her, I still missed Maureen. She was gone, gone forever, and never to return. I'd never see her again. Death is so final. Or is it? Who's to know?

No one dead has ever returned to tell us what it's like to die and/or to be dead. Or have they? Are the dead here, now, living among us in a parallel dimension or universe and we just don't know it? Do the dead walk beside us and we just can't see them, hear them, and touch them? Has Maureen been watching me having sex with her best friend, her sister, and now her mother?

There are some who claim that the dead walk among us and that the dead can not only see us but also hear us. There are some who claim they can feel them. There are some who claim they can see them. There are some who claim that they talk to the dead. What's the deal with that? Can they really feel, see, and talk to the dead or are they scamming us just to make money while promoting their books, their television programs, and/or their movies.

"I see dead people," said Haley Joel Osment in The Sixth Sense.

# # #

Do you believe in life after death? Do you believe in reincarnation? Is it true that we don't die, we never die, but we return to the universe to live among the stars in distant galaxies? I don't know. No one knows.

Now, that Maureen is among the dead, just as I'd like to feel her, see her, and talk to her again, I'd like to believe that she's out there somewhere waiting for me to join her when I die. It would give me great comfort to know that I could meet up with her again in death, one day. It would be worth my dying to see her and talk to her again. Unfortunately, we may not have a body, just an essence, a spirit, and/or a soul.

'I wonder if we could still have sex,' I thought. 'Yet, if we no longer have a body, how can we have sex?'

If the dead are here among us, do they protect us? Are they our angels? Are my grandfather, grandmother, mother, father, and every relative and everyone who I ever knew and who has died, here with me now looking over my shoulder as I type this story? Are they my welcoming committee to ease me from life to death? Are they happier being dead than they were being alive?

And what happens to those who have lived a bad life and an evil existence on Earth? Is there no one to help them make the transition from Earth to Hell? Dante Alighieri in his Divine Comedy wrote that there are nine circles of Hell. The nineth circle is a special place saved for Catholic Popes along with the worst of the worst who lived to evoke their evil on Earth.

Do we die alone? If we go to Hell, do we really spend an eternity in horrific pain? How awful is that? Maybe, we all die alone. Maybe, in the way that we don't remember anything before we were born, as if we're sleeping, there's just nothing but a vast emptiness when we die.

Too good and too kind not to rest in peace, I know my Maureen is in Heaven. She was a good person. I know she's surrounded by angels and visiting with relatives, friends, and acquaintances and all those who have passed before her. Only, I wish she'd give me a sign, anything to make me know that she's okay.

With me banned from her funeral, I'd love to see her again for one, last time. Giving me a semblance of peace after her death, I'd love to talk to her. How wonderful would that be to have her hanging around in the way that Cosmo Topper had Marion Kerby talking to him and warning him of things before they happened? In the way that I imagined that others have helped their friends and relatives ease their way through death, I wish Maureen was here to navigate me through life.

# # #

Suddenly, as if on cue, there was a huge crash in the living room. The dogs barked wildly. It sounded like someone had broken a window to break in the house.

With me still naked, without even throwing on my robe or grabbing a towel, I left Carol alone to check on what made the noise. The picture that I had taken of Maureen with Missy, had blown up, and framed fell from the wall. Asked and answered, there was my sign. My beloved was here with me now.

Sensing her presence, I believed that Maureen was here. Perhaps, she was unhappy with me for having sexual relations with her best friend, her sister, and now her mother, too. Although, since, we both had sex with Colleen, I figured she wouldn't be angry over that. Without a doubt, I suspected that it upset her that I had sex with not only her sister but also with her mother, too.

Who knows? Maybe, she's jealous. I don't know. Suddenly, I felt as if I had been cheating on her, even though she was dead. Suddenly, I felt that I had stained our love and sullied her image of me by having had sex with not only her best friend but also her sister, too, and now her mother. I felt that I had disappointed her. I figured the dropped picture was my wakeup call to stop my perversely perverted, sexual ways.

Yet, as my excuse and my justification for having had sex with them, I wouldn't have slept with her sister and/or her mother, and Colleen for that matter, had we all not been grieving. I wouldn't have slept with any of them had I not hated being alone and lonely. Besides, we all found life more bearable when we sexually comforted one another. Sure, we could have hugged one another and talked, but being sexually intimate with one another was what helped us to forget, if only for an hour or two.

Considering that I couldn't think about anything else when in the throes of making love and about to cum, having sex with those close to her made me feel better. With Gwen and her mother looking so much like her, they made me feel that I was with Maureen and having sex with her again. Maybe, it was just my poorly contrived excuse, but I'd like to think that I had sex with Colleen, Gwen, and Carol because I missed having sex with Maureen.

Making love while having sex is one of the few times that I forget the past and live in the present. Making love while having sex is one of the few times where life suddenly becomes bearable to make me want to continue living it. Making love while having sex gives me hope by exchanging my sadness for happiness. Never have I been sad or unhappy when making love and while having sex.

# # #

As soon as I entered the living room, as if I was suddenly psychically possessed, I felt it. Filled with her spirit, the house was energized with her electricity. The dogs were wildly unsettled. They wouldn't stop pacing and whining. They wouldn't settle down. A bit unnerving, as if Maureen's spirit was in the living room with them, they continued staring up at the wall and at the ceiling while wagging their tails.

'A good sign,' I thought. 'If the dogs are staring up at the ceiling, that may mean that she's in Heaven instead of in Hell.'

A first for me, I've never experienced anything like this before. I could sense her. I could feel her. It was surreal. It was magical. It was mystical. I felt as if I was at a séance, only I didn't have to summon the dead. Arriving on her own volition, she was already here.

The hair on my arms stood up and I had goose bumps everywhere. I put the dogs out. They didn't want to stay in the house and I couldn't calm them down. When they weren't whining, they were cowering and shaking. Within the confines of the fenced backyard, they were happy to go outside, and go as far away from the house and from the Maureen's ghost, as their four legs would take them.

Unlike us insensitive humans, animals know when something paranormal happens. They have a sixth sense of such things better than humans do. Animals listen to their instincts, whereas we dumb humans ignore them and suffer the consequences of not depending on and listening to our inherent natural, warning system when danger presents itself.

Sometimes, in that regard, an animal, especially a dog, is smarter than we are. Whereas, we'll remain to confront a stranger or an unknown danger, an animal, with a stronger senses of self-preservation, will flee rather than fight. Most times, unless they're trained to attack, dogs won't attack someone until cornered.

What we believe is our protector, most dogs would rather greet a stranger who suddenly broke in their house than bite them. Yet, there are some breeds of dogs that will immediately attack, and protect their owners to their death. Those dogs may not make the best pets for children.

# # #

I debated telling Carol about her daughter's ghostly presence that I suddenly felt again. She might think me odd and/or crazy. Besides, I didn't want to unduly upset her. I didn't want to make her feel guilty for allowing herself to let down her inhibitions and find comfort from her grief and sadness while in my arms for sex. We both benefited from that unexpected, sexual union.

Definitely, I thought better of telling her that Gwen found the same comfort with me, too. Nor would I tell her that I not only had sex with Colleen but also, I had threesome sex with Maureen and Colleen, as well as having threesome sex with Colleen and Gwen. Being a mother, Gwen's mother, and knowing her daughter as only a mother does, I figured she knew, suspected, or felt Maureen's ghostly presence, too.

Again, not wanting to unduly alarm her, I picked up the picture and placed it behind the sofa. Then, I picked up all the broken glass. I figured that if Carol felt her daughter's presence, I'd have her tell me. I figured that would save me from thinking that I had lost my mind over losing Maureen. I figured that if Carol sensed the presence of Maureen, then we'd discuss our thoughts. If she said nothing, then I'd keep quiet about what happened, about what I felt, and what I sensed.

Some people believe that the spirit of the dead returns to visit the living. Some people believe in everything paranormal and in ghosts. Some people believe in reincarnation. Some people want to believe and find comfort in the hope that their loved one is not dead but still alive somewhere in space, in time, and in another dimension in a parallel universe.

Perhaps, they find solace in the fact that, even though they can't see or touch the dead, if they feel they are here with them, then just talking to he or she gives them a sense of peace and comfort. Some people don't believe, don't want to believe, and would rather face the finality of the death of their loved ones now. They prefer to grieve, forget, and continue forward with their lives without them. Whichever way is not the wrong way, it's just their way to deal with their loss.

Meaningless words, in the way that everyone says to someone in the military, 'Thank you for your service,' they say, 'Sorry for your loss,' when someone had died.

Then, there are those who go through life oblivious. They feel nothing. They sense nothing. They believe in the here and the now and not in life hereafter. They believe that once they're gone, they're gone.

Those are the non-believers, the people who don't necessarily believe that there's a God. They don't necessarily believe that Heaven and Hell exists. Who's to say who and which is right? What does it matter? It doesn't matter. When we die, we die. Whichever way you believe or don't believe is what gives us comfort when a loved one dies.

# # #

Many who face death and who have the time before they die, suddenly, switch their beliefs. Suddenly, hoping there is a God, they suddenly believe in God, in Heaven, and in Hell. Hoping to save themselves from going to Hell, they pray to God. Suddenly, they don't want to die with the knowledge that this is it, and once they're gone they're gone. Too final to believe that, it's more comforting to think that when we die we fly up to Heaven to live in eternity bliss.

I'm not one of those nonbelievers. I believe in God, and in Heaven. I believe in the Devil and in Hell. I'm not oblivious to Maureen's spirit. I can feel her. I can sense her presence. I know she's here with me, now. Yet, for how long is she here is the question? I read somewhere that the dead are with you for the first year.

More importantly, why is she here? Why did she return? Why now? Did she return to see if I was okay?

Did she return because she was looking for her mother and not me? Did she return because her mother is here with me, now? Did she return when Gwen visited me or when Colleen returned for the second time? I don't know. Even though I sense her, I didn't feel her then in the way that I feel her now.

Now, I wondered, did Colleen bring her here the first time that I felt her, the night of her death? Did Gwen and Colleen bring her here, again, with them? Did her mother deliver her to me, yet, again? Did she linger here, once they came and after they left? I don't know.

Is she stuck here with me forever or until she gets her wings? I just don't know. What I do know is that I feel her. I sense her presence. I know that she's here with me, now.

Silently, I prayed for her soul to be lifted to Heaven. As troubling as all this supposition is, I'd rather have the sense of her here than to have nothing and no feeling of her presence, as I did before. As disturbing as it is to have a picture fly off the wall and have the dogs go wild, I'd rather have them here with me to let me know that they sense her, too.

Otherwise, without the picture falling from the wall and the dogs barking, whining, cowering, and shivering, I may have not sensed her and missed the feeling of her. I may have not realized that she is here with me now. Thank goodness for the dogs. Seemingly, the dogs are my early warning detection between the worlds of the living and the dead.

As horrible was her death with the sudden and final loss of her, I'm glad she's here now for whatever the reason. Maybe, I can influence her to stay. Maybe, we can come to some arrangement where she'll stay here with me and wait here with me, until it's my time to go off with her. Maybe, she's meant to be with me forever throughout life and death. Maybe, we're eternal soulmates, spirits who transcend life and death, and who travel in worlds that we don't even know exist.

# # #

"Maureen, if you're here. I love you," I said.

I listened while waiting for a response and hoping for a sign that she was here. I wished she would talk to me.

"I'm sorry that I slept with Gwen. Truly, I'm sorry that I had sex with your sister," I said.

Again, I listened, while waiting for a response from her and hoping for a sign of her presence.

"I'm sorry that I slept with Colleen. Only, you must understand that having sex with Colleen and Gwen didn't matter. It was just sex. It was just the three of us finding comfort in whatever way we could to feel closer to you," I said.