This is a story written by Hcstuds for Ken Richards. This is the second part of a two-part story. Part one is under Loving Wives. Each part is stand alone except the reason for my condition is in chapter 1.
One Saturday afternoon I heard a vehicle on the side of my trailer where J. C. and Kathy used to live.
I looked out of the window and saw a striking redhead come around the truck and open the back doors. She immediately began to remove lamps and such from the truck. From my angle I could not see if there was anyone else in the truck. I decided to go out and offer my assistance. When I passed the truck, I saw that there was no one else.
"Hi, my name is Ken," I introduced myself. "Do you need any help?"
"Hi yourself, I'm Sara," She replied with a welcoming smile. I had help but after loading the truck, he suddenly had to be somewhere else. If you are volunteering, I can use help on two or three pieces."
Sara was about five feet six or seven and had flaming red hair. Her breasts were outstanding. I would have guessed them was about at about thirty-six in a D cup. To go with her red hair, she had a sprinkling of freckles on her face and arms. She may have been ten to fifteen pounds overweight but on her frame, the weight just softened her curves. As attractive as this woman was, I couldn't understand why any number of men wouldn't be clamoring to help her.
We set to unloading the truck. The only large items were a sofa that was a bitch to get through the trailer door, a chair, and the awkward-to-carry mattress and box springs. All of the rest were accessories that personalized the trailer into Sara's home. We made short work of the unloading but worked up a sweat all the same.
"Well, all done," I announced. "Could I interest you in a cold beer or a drink?"
"A cold beer sounds wonderful," she accepted, "and a chance to sit down for a minute before taking the truck back."
I invited her to my trailer because it was cool and that would allow us to relax. The conversation between us was casual as we got to know one another. I told her my tale of woe finally able to make light of some of worst times. She too was divorced but the worst part of her life was that she had a daughter in the hospital with leukemia. She had made the sacrifices necessary to be with her daughter during her life-threatening illness. She had used her vacation time, sick leave, and personal business time but still wracked a string of absences from her job at the Kennedy Space Center. Even though the absences were excused, she understood that any company that doesn't need for an employee to come to work, doesn't need the position. She was just hanging on. She was saving the Family Leave Act as a last resort.
She didn't sound bitter or depressed. She was matter-of-fact when she talked about it. She had sold her home under duress to avoid foreclosure. As in my case, someone had suggested that she look at trailer parks. Not just any park but this one in particular. The party had lived here at some time in the past and recommended it because it was well kept and the people were nice. She said that if I was an example, it would be a great place to live. I, of course accepted the compliment
I suggested dinner but she said that before her ex-helper had left, they had plans to go to the Cocoa Beach Pier, have drinks, and listen to jazz. She admitted that he had been upset because he wanted a relationship with her. She said he was a great guy but at this time, she could not put what it takes into a relationship to make it successful because she was so committed to her daughter's care and well-being. She said the pier date was off but if I liked jazz, we could go. Since the band was on the pier itself, it was casual and we would not have to dress. My thought was that she might be short selling herself about the relationship but I did take her up on the offer to go to the Pier.
We took the truck back to Budget and took her car to the Pier. Even though there are restaurants and a large lounge on the Pier, tables were set up out on the pier itself. The setting was perfect. We were overlooking the ocean with a warm tropical breeze gently flowing across us. I made a mental note that this would be a great place to bring a date. We ordered beers and at Sara's suggestion, an appetizer tray which consisted of jalapeno poppers, potato skins, and mushrooms stuffed with crab meat.
Sara was an unusual woman in her upper thirties. She was articulate, funny with a great sense of humor, and an infectious laugh. She was easy to talk to and to listen to. I could see why any man would want a relationship with her. We were deep in conversation when I noticed that the band had started. The band consisted of a sax, trumpet, trombone, and drums. They were good and non-intrusive. They were easy to listen to but did not demand your attention. The snacks were above average especially the mushrooms; the band was excellent and Sara was intriguing. I had not had so much fun with my clothes on in a very long time.
We left about ten thirty so that Sara could be at the hospital early the next morning. After we were on our way back to Titusville, She told me that her ex-helper had been at the Pier tonight. She had not told me earlier because she did not want me to be uncomfortable. Add considerate of other peoples' feelings to her list of virtues. We continued our conversation all the way home. I walked her to the door and as she put one foot on her front stairs, she turned to me.
"I had a great time tonight," I said not wanting the night to end so early. "Maybe we can go out again sometimes."
"I think that would be nice," she replied. "I don't know when that'll be; however. I stay at the hospital for weeks at a time. I got the trailer because I need some place to crash when I can get away for a day or so."
"I understand your predicament," I said. "I meant it when I said that I was not looking for a committed relationship either. It's not because I don't have the time. It's that I don't have the energy. If you happen to be in town and see my car here, knock and maybe we'll have a drink."
I turned to leave but she stopped me, "Ken, this might be a mistake but what I need and really want tonight is a good, old-fashioned casual fuck. Are you up for it?"
I laughed and took her hand and said, "Come with me. I think that can be arranged."
We went to my trailer and to be more specific my bedroom. I started to take her clothes off.
"Don't think that I'm always this easy," she said as if it mattered.
"Of course not," I said as I removed her bra. "You have beautiful breasts."