"Baby, you aren't sharing it and never will! It's yours!"
"No, Joe. I have been sharing it since we started all of this. That love you had for her is still alive as much as you try to hide it. I know it. I can see it and you can make yourself really happy once you admit it. But what this trip showed me is that you can never give me the love that I want. The love I deserve. The love you have for her deep inside, locked away. I can't go on like that...hoping that one day you will love me like that."
I hung my head. I did still love her and she's right. All I did was try to lock her away from me. I never really got over her, did I? Father, why isn't there a little switch inside us that turns feelings like this off, It would make things a lot easier, wouldn't it? But you never said life would be easy, did you?
"So, I think we need to stop this before things get more complicated than they already are. I will be your friend and I will always treasure you, but I need to move on and hopefully find my true love."
I sadly looked at her and nodded in agreement. She deserved to be happy and I know she will make someone a terrific wife. I certainly loved her enough to let her go and pursue her own happiness.
We hugged each other and finally I had to let her go. She took her things and said she would see me in class if I still wanted to, but I knew that wouldn't happen anymore either. How could it?
When she left, I got up and grabbed a bottle of Jim Beam and took a big swig. Then another. I went and sat in my chair next to the couch where Trisha and I made love so many times and I started crying. I was a mutt full of emotions. Sadness. Grief. Guilt. Anger. Love. Hatred. I felt the buzz coming on and I continued pouring the bottle down my throat. I craved a cigarette. So, I walked down to the gas station around the corner of my apartment and bought a pack and returned home. I sat back in my chair and took in some more Jim Beam and lit a cigarette and anger took hold. I looked up at the ceiling.
"Is this some kind of sick fucking joke to you? You are an asshole, did you know that? Ya having fun? Huh? Pulling peoples strings like some twisted puppeteer? Huh? What did I ever do to deserve this? You brought love to my life twice and robbed me of both of them!" I growled. Then thought for a second.
"Ok, touché! I fucked up, too on the first one. Thank you for allowing her to stomp my heart to pieces, you sorry motherfucker! 'What the Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away.' Well, that's what you are good at, isn't it? Take! Take! Take! First Lisa! Then my spirit! Then I figured 'cool! You gave me Trisha!' then you take my dad, then if that wasn't enough, you take Trisha from me. What the fuck did I ever do to you? I try do be good and lead a positive life but you treat me like some redheaded stepchild. Why didn't you go ahead and take my life too? What am I, your fucking experiment? Well you know what, God? To hell with it all. I'll do it without you!"
I got up and went to bed, seething.
The next few days I did a lot of thinking. What Dad had said about no regrets, be happy, and live my life. He also said to think about Lisa. "Sorry, Dad! That shit ain't happening!" I also spent more time in the gym now that I had 2 days free again. I am going to miss Trisha's company, but I hope she finds what she deserves. She is a phenomenal lady. Did I get what I deserve? Joe, don't even go there!
One thing is for certain. I am done with this love thing. Now, it's going to be about me. I am going to have fun. Maybe be 'bad' for a change. Who knows?
Well, soon it came easy to find something else to do. For a few months I was in the gym everyday for a few hours a day. My body was getting ripped! Not quite Sly Stallone in 'The Specialist', more like 'Stone Cold Steve Austin' without that much mass. I loved being able to look good while flexing in the mirror. But that came to a halt one afternoon while pushing myself on squats. My hamstring pulled and the sports doctor said to lay off of it for at least six weeks. That sucked. Now what was I going to do? That means I can't fly either. The boss isn't going to be happy about that. Oh, well. It's just a job.
I checked the mail a week later and noticed an advertisement for a motorcycle rider course. A two-day event that would use up one Saturday and Sunday and take the state required test for a motorcycle endorsement. Sounded ok to me. What else did I have to do? I signed up, took the course and passed. Then I went shopping for a bike.
I went at first looking at choppers. I have always loved those. I found a Big Dawg shop and fell in love with those sleek styles; those big fat tires, that deafening rumble. I swear my dick got hard! Then I saw the price tag for a new one. OK, lets go somewhere else.
That's when I met Matt. He was a rugged looking salesman for Harley-Davidson. I told him what I was looking for and he sat me on a Softtail Classic. As stock, it looked kind of bland but the possibilities were endless and it was much cheaper, to me, than those Big Dawgs. Plus, what if I wanted to have some 'squeeze' ride with me? I'm sure it's better on a Harley than the Dawgs I seen. I agreed and bought it with certain accessories chromed out, engine guards (Hey, I'm a beginning rider, gotta protect this beautiful machine.), saddlebags, short sissy bar, and legal 'ape hangers'. It cost a few thousand extra but man was it worth it! When they rode it out of the garage an hour later I was in awe! My bike! My 'scooter'! I was psyched. I spent the rest of the week just riding around, enjoying the freedom. The feeling was incredible.
I met up with Matt a month later to go riding. He had commented on me not really personalizing my bike yet. "The bike should be a unique reflection of you, Brudder!" I thought about that as we rode. Who am I? When I look in the mirror now I hardly recognize myself. My hair is longer than it always has been, coming down below my neck. I had to keep it decent for work, but it was different that the typical navy haircuts I have always had until Trisha left. I was shocked to see that I added about 30 pounds of muscle and had to by new clothes. I grew out my goatee and mustache. Who the hell am I? I'm a stranger now to everybody I ever knew and a stranger to myself, but only familiar to Matt and his little clique. Is this who I really am? I don't know, but I like it so far.
And to be honest? I was still everything I was before. I realized I am still a jet pilot, a veteran, and ex-husband, a son, and a prideful man. Now I enjoy my new biker friends. I don't consider myself a biker in the usual sense of the word, but I enjoy riding with my new 'brudders'. Then I had an idea about what to do with my bike. I waved bye to Matt and took it down to the office.
I got up with some acquaintances on the floor. You'll be surprised what a couple of hundred bucks can get you! I decided to have my engine guards, a carburetor cover and a few small accessories gold plated. Then, I had the paint shop paint the tank and fenders gloss black and put a bald eagle on the tank and Navy wings on the fenders. I took the naval officers' crest of my old uniform hat and had it fixed to the gas cap. Not necessarily the most 'bitchin' look, but it was me. 100%
I continued to ride with Matt and his gang. We had a blast, making runs for charity, raiding small bars, rallies. We did Sturgis, Daytona, Myrtle Beach, etc. And not to mention the pussy thrown at us. It was like a dream come true. Freedom, baby! I even had a few women offer pussy just for a ride around the block in Daytona. It was crazy! What do you think? Did I turn them down?
Anyway, the E/F program was in its final stages of the prototype and my duties were dwindling and slowly diverting to a new army helicopter program. My role in this one would of course be administrative, as I was not a helicopter pilot. That was fine with me. It didn't matter anymore. My life wasn't about flying anymore. The last year and some odd months that I had been riding with the fella's, I felt a change in myself. I didn't think about the past anymore. I lived in the here and now. I still worked out 3 times a week but not so much for bulk as it was to just maintain.
As far as living in the moment goes, the women coming in and out of my apartment was amazing. The night I remember most was last week when I brought Debbie and Beth home for a romp. They sat me down on the couch and started giving me a lap dance. They put on some Skynard and went to town. They tore my shirt off me and Debbie rubbed her body up and down my chest while Beth lip-locked me. All of a sudden I felt teeth squeeze my hard cock through my jeans. Now I knew that they wanted it rough and wild. That's what I'm talking about! Debbie and Beth both worked my jeans off of me and they took turns sucking my cock with vigor. They may not be good at anything else but they could give head.
I had a really strong attraction to Beth so I pulled her up and had her stand on the couch and squat down so I could lick her ass and pussy. The most delicious looking ass I ever seen. I held her hips to support her as my tongue attacked her holes. She smelled so good, her juice smeared into my face. I darted my tongue into her and she started slamming her pussy into my face. I soon had to stop her because she was suffocating me. I felt good, though. Making her cum before she got off my face.
When she moved, Debbie sat down on my cock and ground her hips into mine. My cock tickled her cervix and caused her to grind faster and start screaming. Beth sat on the chair and went to work pinching her nipples in one hand and slamming 3 fingers into her snatch. These broads are something else. I held on to Debbie's hips and pushed her down onto my cock harder to try and get deeper. Her cunt clamped down on my cock and I could feel her cum spray my cock and balls. I never felt that before. It was pretty cool having a squirter for once.
She slowed down to ease her senses and Beth said it was her turn. I lifted her off and went over to Beth. She had draped her legs over the arms of the chair and I lowered myself between her legs. This bitch was hot!
