A Lonely Heart

It was hard raising a teen aged girl without a husband around Marsha Winters thought as she showered. Tom, her husband had been gone much of the past two years, first to Afghanistan, and now to Iraq, the damn State Department, she cursed. Stepping out of the warm shower onto a plush towel, Marsha lifted her thick honey-colored hair from her long delicately arching neck and looked at her youthful reflection in the full length bathroom mirror with an involuntary self-satisfaction.

It was hard not to be proud of the wide-spaced green eyes gazing back at her, slanted slightly above high cheekbones, blinking back at her with a growing amusement; it was exhilarating to be such a beautiful woman and beneath her quiet and modest temperament she enjoyed it. Though she would celebrate her thirty-sixth birthday this very summer, her fully curving voluptuous body was every bit as firm and taut as a teenager's-high-set round breasts curving down over a slender girlish waist to round luscious hips; a flat smooth stomach and full-swelling thighs; breathtakingly curved calves tapering down to small well-formed ankles.

But a look of pained bewilderment clouded the green eyes and she let the long slightly damp hair fall to her shoulders with an air of weary discouragement. She stepped closer to the mirror, gazing searchingly at the picture of perfection, and almost wished she were not so lovely; in that context she might be able to withstand Tom's long deployments away from home. It had been over a year now since they had made love and she was willing to accept that as natural after all the years of marriage. But even when he did approach her nowadays, she sensed a certain lack of fire. It was almost as though he were performing a duty.

A high feminine squeal of laughter from the patio interrupted this depressing chain of thought. Marsha wrapped a soft towel around her naked torso and lifted one of the slats in the venetian blinds with a long perfectly manicured fingernail, peeking out at her eighteen year old daughter, Candy, and her new boyfriend who had arrived from out of town just that morning. Her eyes narrowed and focused more sharply on the strange picture confronting her: Jim's lean and muscular body was spread out on the chaise lounge in white swim trunks that contrasted with his deep tan and set off his silvery blonde hair while the petite dark-haired Candy, in a snug black bikini that was at least two sizes too small for her, was trying to sit in Jim's lap. Her lushly curving buttocks slid down onto his pelvis and his arms swooped out to grab her by the elbows and cast her off. But she laughed and bounced right back onto the thickly bulging protuberance now fully apparent straining against his swim trunks.

Marsha blushed and stepped away from the window, exiting quickly for the adjoining master bedroom. This wouldn't do at all her mind raced while she pulled on her slacks and shuffled her feet into sandals. Not in front of their new neighbors! Still zipping up her tight slacks, she hurried to the kitchen for the coffee she had left percolating on the counter.

Another squeal of laughter erupted from the backyard as Marsha set the coffee pot onto the kitchen table. She turned and faced the window, running her fingers nervously through a stray strand of soft blonde hair. She didn't have the faintest idea how to handle the situation and in a moment she would have to say something! If only Tom was here, she thought.

Although they lived in a secluded area, their nearest neighbors might see the goings-on across the well-trimmed hedges that separated the long spacious back lawns from each other. She had nothing against a little innocent love-play, God knows she and Tom had once done it-but there was something lurid and very unsettling about the way Candy and Jim were pawing each other right out in public.

Candy and Jim had come to stay a few days ago and were planning to move into a place on the other side of town as soon as the apartment was furnished and redecorated. Meanwhile, Marsha was beginning to wonder what she would have to put up with, and she sighed to herself and leaned out the window.

"Hey, Beautiful," Jim's low voice echoed across the lawn before she could speak. "C'mon out and join the party!"

Marsha filled her coffee cup, set it in the saucer, and quickly pushed open the screened kitchen door. The late afternoon light cast long cool shadows across the grey flagstone patio, but the sun was still bright enough to be dazzling as it reflected in the kidney-shaped swimming pool behind Jim and Candy.

"Nothing stronger than coffee for you, Marsha?" Jim remarked as she approached the couple.

"I think I'll wait 'til just before dinner, thanks," she smiled and relaxed her lithely curving back into a lounge chair in front of them.

Jim smiled at Marsha and raised his Scotch to his lips. "It's really wonderful to be treated so warmly, Marsha. I almost feel like I was part of the family."

"God, honey, you almost are," Candy said, and leaned over to Jim and gave him a soft, brushing kiss. "You have already been introduced, I presume?" She chortled.

Jim was running his fingers under the straps of Candy's bathing suit that cupped her large smooth up-tilting breasts in little more than a thin strip of black cloth.

Candy swatted him away, but Marsha felt herself blush as she had earlier when watching the couple's sex play through the window, and forced a laugh to conceal her embarrassment. "I thought we'd put some steaks on the grill tonight. How does that sound?"

Jim stared into his drink for a moment, then lifted his eyes and studied the snug apple-curve of Marsha's full firm breasts that protruded tightly against her blouse. "I think that sounds delicious. What do you think about that, baby?" he said, turning to Candy. As he did, his leg moved to the side just enough so that Marsha caught a glimpse of his penis as it lay against his leg, exposed from the movement and the position of his swim trunks.

Marsha stiffened in her chair, unable to cope with the sight of his male member. Unable to take her eyes away from his crotch, she blushed, and then felt a faint queasy feeling rush over her. She stood up from her chair on wobbly knees and, looking down at the two of them, smoothed her blouse into the waistline of her tight-fitting slacks.

She excused herself and returned to the house. Lord, he had unsettled her so that she did need a drink, she thought, picking the newspaper off the front porch. She fixed herself a Scotch and soda and sat in the living room, sipping on it and scanning headlines. Later, she noticed that it was getting dark, and she set the steaks out on the backyard grill and rejoined Jim and Candy on the patio.

"I guess it's time for that drink we were talking about," she smiled, having regained her composure.

"Now that sounds more like it," Jim grinned back, and poured a tumbler of Scotch into an ice filled glass. "And while you're enjoying yourself with it, I'll keep an eye on the steaks."

Jim shifted off the chair and strode to the sizzling grill at the edge of the patio. Marsha couldn't help admiring the sight of Jim's long sinuous legs and the boyish roundness of his buttocks as he turned his back to Candy and Marsha seated in lounge chairs across from each other. She was just nervous because of Tom not being home. As she sipped from her Scotch, she felt more warmly disposed towards Candy; even though the girl was something of a sex-kitten, she had a rambunctious liveliness to her that she would find quite charming in less tense moments.

"Worried about Dad?" Candy asked in a sure sounding voice.

Marsha laughed and sipped from her drink again. "Was that a statement of fact or a question?"

Candy lifted one delicately curving ankle onto the low-setting cast iron table that separated the two women. Despite herself, Marsha felt slightly astounded at the girl's brazenness; her tightly fitting bikini panties just covered the sensuous vee of her crotch and the gentle curve of her genital area was clearly evident from beneath the tight press of the cotton material.

"Probably both," Candy laughed at the question.

"I know how it is when I miss Jim ... when he's been off on a business trip, for example."

"You kids have been together for less than six months," Marsha said, her voice rising somewhat. "But I'll confess that I never get used to it either."

Candy gave Marsha a warm-eyed smile, and drew her chair up closer to her and leaned across the coffee table. She ran one of her fingers in an almost conscious gesture across the large smoothly uplifting rise of her breasts, finally settling her hand on the tanned flatness of her belly.

"Speaking woman to woman, Mom" Candy said with a candid look. "There are ways of satisfying yourself without hurting yourself or Dad."

"I - I don't know what you mean," Marsha blurted out, feeling herself blush openly for the third time that day. "Tom is a very attentive husband-when he's home-and I really am quite satisfied with our relationship."

The conversation was taking an intimate turn that made Marsha uncomfortable again. She took a large gulp from her Scotch and discovered to her surprise that she had finished all of it. Candy must be trying to appear liberal and modern, she concluded, and it rather irritated her to be lectured about sex by her daughter.

Still, she thought she knew what Candy was talking about, and was frankly quite interested in hearing more. Before she had been married, she had given way to her sensual urges by massaging her nipples and touching herself down between her legs, but she had always felt terribly guilty afterwards.

She had never heard any other woman openly admit that she had done it-either before or after marriage, and her own problems with Tom and the needs of her body that she had been made acutely aware of during the last few years were too great for her to deny Candy the opportunity to talk more about it.

"Doesn't it bother Jim, that you, uh, try to satisfy yourself that way?" she asked obliquely, surprised to find her gaze cast at the crotch of Jim's swim suit and the bulge next to the muscular stretch of his thighs as he bent over the grill behind Candy.

"Not at all," Candy said brightly. "As a matter of fact, it's quite the opposite."

"Well, I'm glad," Marsha laughed, almost giddily. "I think I'll make myself another drink. It looks like Jim will be working over those steaks for a few minutes."

The sun had set below the gentle rise of hills behind the house by the time the steaks and green salad and potatoes that had been cooked in aluminum foil over the charcoal sat before the three at the dinner table. After her three drinks, Marsha felt considerably more relaxed. It seemed that she had been needlessly uneasy with Jim and Candy earlier, and now that Jim had shown himself quite helpful as chef and Candy had demonstrated a genuine interest in her relationship with Tom, she felt a tingle of warmth for the two lovers. Perhaps their open show of sensual appetite that afternoon merely demonstrated their love. It was dark by the time they had finished eating and the plates had been cleared from the patio. The sky was lit with a sparkling of stars that vaguely illuminated the three faces that were occasionally brightened by the ember of a cigarette.

"Jim," Candy's soft voice interrupted a long silence. "I think I've got an absolutely gorgeous Mom. You two would make a beautiful couple with your matching blonde hair."

Through the shadows Marsha could make out Jim pushing forward in his chair. His hand darted to the plane of Candy's knee, and then his darkened face turned toward Marsha. "No need to break us up, honey. I could handle the both of you," he chuckled dreamily and sank back in his chair. "A blonde and a brunette, one on each side!"

Then he was silent again. This is so odd, Marsha shivered with fear as she had done earlier. I have known with Jim for six hours and my feelings have already changed towards him twice. She tried to force the next thought out of her mind, fearing that she had let her confidence in Candy go too far; had she put too much trust in her daughter, and had she been wise to express her true feelings about her loneliness honestly? In her preoccupation she hadn't noticed Candy's hand move from the upper part of his thigh and play over the again slightly rising bulge of his bathing trunks. Had she seen correctly?

Then she saw the hand move again. Candy shifted her leg slightly and the man's hand slid across the girl's hip that was barely visible lying outstretched to the side of the lounge chair. At first, Marsha had thought the hand on Jim's loins might have been a casual slip, but it remained there, and as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness she could see the fingers squeezing lightly at the bulge as though to provoke him into further hardness.

Marsha lit a cigarette and pulled back in her chair. She could see a repeat of the afternoon's lewdly playful performance coming on, only this time it looked like the couple were far more serious in their intentions. If she got up now and went into the living room it would be only too obvious why she had left, so she decided to stay for a moment and finish her cigarette. If she could only keep her eyes off the couple who sat just a few feet away from her! Their bodies were like magnets, drawing themselves closer and closer and pulling her eyes to the movement of their thighs and hands as they touched each other.

Despite her resolve, she discovered her own nipples hardening beneath the tightly stretching nylon of the bra that pressed down on her full smoothly rounded breasts. She shifted in her seat, hoping the warming sensation would stop, but a softly tingling quiver of lust rippled lightly through her groin, and she sensed a dampness there that made her increasingly uncomfortable. God, it had to stop! The couple was completely oblivious to anything but themselves, and in a moment, she knew they would be engaged in something far more serious than petting in front of her.

"I think I'll go inside and make some coffee," she said lightly and stood up, fluffing back her honey-blonde hair that had fallen loosely across her breasts. "I'll let you love-birds stay out here until it gets too chilly. The coffee will be perking on the stove when you come in."

She looked down at Jim and Candy still embraced, their hands continuing to wander in sensuous little circles across one another's bodies. Their indifference to her seemed total, and she experienced the odd feeling of being a complete stranger in her own backyard. As she turned to leave, she glimpsed Jim press his face against Candy's cheek. The moon had risen over the trees that rose up behind the swimming pool and a bright arc of light flowed across the gleaming flagstone patio.

Jim's mouth moved closer to Candy's moist full lips, and suddenly he kissed her. The wetly sucking sound of the girl receiving his tongue seemed to reverberate across the yard. A kiss, innocent enough between two, Marsha thought to herself as she reentered the kitchen, but somehow it had a deeper significance. What was happening to her? Why did such trivial things make such an impression on her consciousness?

She set the electric coffee percolator on the counter and lit another cigarette. Then she went to the pantry and lifted a cup and saucer from a cupboard. She paused; her mind abstracted again, and set the crockery back on the closet shelf. What she needed now was another drink. Her nerves were on edge, and maybe another glass of Scotch would be helpful. Tom wouldn't be home for months, and she had to have something to dampen that insatiable burning that seemed to erupt inside her belly from time to time.

During the early years of their marriage Tom had been a tender and attentive lover despite the fact that she had been far from the responsive woman in bed she knew she should have been. But during the last few years he had grown increasingly distracted with his job. At least, she thought it had been his growing responsibilities with the State Department that had forced him to away so.

"Oh, stop it, Jim, not out here," she heard Candy's voice ring out from the backyard. "Don't touch me like that! It drives me crazy."

She rose from the table again, this time not merely irritated with Jim and Candy, but plainly angry. She could hear the faint creak of lounge chairs as their bodies must have been shifting onto one another. The sound came floating through the thick shrubbery and echoed with astounding clarity in the kitchen. What was he doing to her that she should make such an obviously half-hearted protest?"

"Oh, not again, ooooh, that tickles," she heard Candy's voice cry out, deep panting groans accompanying her low guttural cries of pleasure. "Don't be such an anxious boy ... Oh, oh, no, not again!"

Marsha stood up at the window and pulled open the blinds. The oblong light from the kitchen shone out across a line of low trimmed bushes backing the patio and reflected off the coffee table in front of the couple. She could see Candy seated on Jim's lap and in the half-darkness it looked as though the girl had her bikini top pulled partially down. Yes, there was no doubt about the fact that two white melon shaped mounds of her breasts were exposed, and she could see Jim's hands running across them, his fingers circling the wide pink aureoles and the stiffly pointing nipples. She pulled away from the window and her shadow cut across the rectangle of light. They were still now. They certainly had seen her and would stop this disgusting exhibition.

"Ohhhhh, God, Jim," the low groan of pleasure coming from a soft feminine voice continued louder than ever, interrupted by a scraping of the lounge chair against the stones of the patio. "There you go again. Oh, now stop it! We can't do anything about it 'til after dinner!"

And then the girl broke out into a peal of teasing laughter that sent shivers of revulsion at their brazen actions and, strangely enough, quivers of sympathetic pleasure racing through Marsha's abdomen and into the soft-downed "V" of her vaginal area. She thought for a moment about how Candy had spoken of the way she satisfied herself when she got into a state similar to the one Marsha was in now. But her anger at the couple for making such a spectacle of themselves squelched any desire to indulge herself in such a way-her guilt would be too great. God, even now she felt ashamed of herself for getting excited over the young couple's love-play. She heard the clink of glasses and the splash of liquor being carelessly poured; then Jim's voice rang out: "Marsha, we need a real woman to liven things up. Candy here doesn't want to put out for me!"

"That's your problem," Marsha called out gaily through the back windows but inside she was shuddering. Thank God it was too dark now for the neighbors to see anything, and she doubted if the voice would carry that far.

She pulled down the blinds, shut off the kitchen light and went into the living room. Her uneasiness with the young in-laws had returned, and her fear of them gave her strength in resisting their overly-familiar teasing of her that she didn't have before. She flicked on the lamp next to the couch and sat down. At least, she had the benefits of Tom's job which brought in a considerable sum of money, and even though she knew she was being a bit selfish, she felt a sense of pride in the belongings they had acquired through the last few years. The HDTV plasma screen facing her from the dark walnut paneling across the room testified to this, as did the gaily-designed Persian rug, and precious Steuben glass ornaments that adorned their imposing mantle-piece. Some of these things were symbols of their prosperity, such as the swimming pool and the collection of paintings they were beginning to collect-she especially like some of the modern ones-and yet they were comforts, not really to be thought of as luxuries when you came down to it.