The Veronica Story

--Part Ten - The Letter --

Following the day trip with Jonah, I limited my visits to once or maybe twice a week. On two occasions, Jonah was home. I no longer needed to bring coffee because little did I know; one of the items found in our box of garage sale leftovers was a coffee pot that worked. This little fact caused me a lot of internal conflict. For the amount of money I had spent on coffee at Love's over these last six months, I could have easily bought Veronica a new coffee maker and 6 months worth of coffee. Yet, here I was happy to sit in a small apartment, having pleasant conversations and occasionally enjoying the view of a new color of panties or the latest pictures she was now eager to share with me.

On both occasions when Jonah was present, he pushed the conversation toward an encounter. In short, he wanted for me to strip down and get busy with Veronica, then leave so he could finish. Both Veronica and I pushed back. Her desire was for more of an arranged scene, particularly one that didn't involve a sleeping 2-year-old in the next room. "Maybe we could go to a bar, then James would come and be the seducer, picking me up while you watch. Doesn't that sound exciting?" Veronica offered.

I had a much different reason for pushing back. I cared for these two and didn't want to screw things up by, well, screwing. That seems honorable, I suppose, but I was also a little nervous about performing well, and about how Veronica might be put off by the sight of my 50 year-old body and all the flaws that come with it.

"No matter what happens," Jonah told me more than once, "I will never be upset. Whether I get to be present or not, you have my complete approval to do whatever Veronica wants to."

You can't look at an incredibly beautiful lady with a beautiful body who has a warm and engaging personality and not have at least some urges, and certainly, I never stopped having sexual thoughts about Veronica, but now that I knew her and Jonah and the child, it seemed like my fatherly instincts had taken over. My inputs into the conversation involved guiding the couple toward a better life. Don't get me wrong, kudos to Jonah. The young man was going to school full time and doing well, while maintaining a job that was well above minimum wage.

Veronica was a stay at home mom, caring for her daughter and preparing her for early success in education in a near home-school situation without the need to spend the family income on daycare. But I talked to her about the idea of Section 8 housing. A program where they offer qualified low-income families with subsidized rent in better neighborhoods. I simply did not understand why, given the opportunity, Jonah and Veronica stayed in this apartment compound, as I always referred to it, when potentially, they could move to the north side of San Antonio and live in a newer, nicer home in a neighborhood full of successful people.

"We'll be fine." Veronica continually assured me. "This place isn't as bad as you make it out to be, and honestly, I like the neighbors." We both laughed, thinking of Mrs Kravitz.

I received a call from Veronica on a Tuesday afternoon. My last visit had been the previous Thursday and she asked if I would please stop by the next morning. She missed me and wanted to make me breakfast. How could I refuse?

I showed up just at seven AM on Wednesday and as usual, Veronica greeted me at the door. She had on Jonah's Texas A&M shirt and white cotton panties with little blue and yellow polka-dots. When we walked in I followed her to the kitchen and she served me a cup of coffee. When she leaned into the refrigerator for some half & half, I stared like a pervert at her ass. "You know, those panties don't even match that shirt." I said.

She spun around handing me the creamer and said, "Don't worry, they won't be on long."

She then walked to the table with our plates. Breakfast was toast with melted longhorn cheese, or as we call it in San Antonio, Government cheese.

I fixed my coffee and joined her. "How's Jonah doing?" I asked politely.

"He wonders if your dick is bigger than his." I nearly choked on my cheese toast. She told me that Jonah had talked about showing me his dick but that I never reciprocated that day down by the Medina River.

"I thought he would be freaked out if I did." I defended my inaction. "When I loosened my tie, he thought I was making some sort of gay come on to him."

Veronica laughed. As we finished our toast, she wouldn't let the subject move elsewhere. "So, would you say you are 8 inches, 9?"

"Do you know how big a 9 inch dick would be? I mean, I think that only happens in movies and on the Internet."

"Well, you are a big guy, I just assumed you had a big one. Finish your toast. I need to see your dick and I'm taking a picture of it for Jonah." She ordered.

"Look," I said, "I'm not embarrassed to show off. I'll dance naked if that's what you want but I just need to tell you, my dick is maybe average at best."

I was suddenly doing everything in my mind to force an erection on myself. Not unlike cold mornings or standing at a urinal, my dick was experiencing a serious case of shrinky-dink. There is a phrase, he's a grower, not a show'er. Well, that's me.

Veronica took a last sip of her coffee then stood up and once again grabbed me by the tie. I stood and followed her to the couch where she promptly began unbuckling my belt.

"Are we really doing this? I mean, can I just whip it out and you can take your little picture and have a laugh with Jonah?" I pleaded, obviously showing reluctance.

"Quit being a big baby and undo your slacks. You can't sit down until your trousers are around your ankles."

I dropped my pants and quickly sat down on the couch.

"That means your chonies, too, mister." She demanded.

By this time, thankfully I was showing signs of arousal. I scooted my underwear down to my slacks gathered at the ankles. My still soft but at least growing penis was laid out before Veronica for the first time with my balls on full display. I was embarrassed by a skin tag that had grown between my thighs and I was going to do everything possible to avoid sharing that little punishment from God.

Veronica knelt down in front of me and without hesitation began to inspect my balls. "Your balls are way bigger than Jonah's. Doesn't your wife make you trim up down here more often?"

"Oh my god. You're killin' me." I whispered. "Please don't make any pronouncements on the penis comparison until I get a boner. I want this to be a fair showing."

Without hesitation or discussion, Veronica took my semi-erect dick into her mouth and suddenly, I was the benefactor of all the training she and Stephanie had gone through. In fifteen seconds, I was completely hard and I wanted to be nowhere else on earth. Veronica stopped, looked up at me and smiled. "Don't you move!"

She went back to the table and grabbed her cell phone, took two or three pictures of my dick and then took several more of her face posing next to my cock, including, two or three with it in various positions in her mouth. "I think that will make Jonah happy." Then she got up and said, "See, that wasn't so hard."

As Veronica walked back to the table to put the cell phone down I quietly whisper-yelled, "Hey! Are you serious?"

She walked back grinning and as she dropped back to her knees she said, "I was just fucking with you."

For the next three or four minutes, maybe more, Veronica gave me an incredible blow-job, forcing her hand between my thighs and the dreaded skin tag so she could fondle my balls, play with my taint, and even probe my ass with her finger. Aside from occasional moaning she whispered a few things that I couldn't make out.

At some point she pulled on my legs, pushing and prodding me to lay on the couch. I felt really awkward laying there with my pants around my ankles, shoes on and a shirt and tie. But I sure as hell had no intention of stopping to get undressed. My mind was lost in the moment and as Veronica could feel me making obvious signs of climax, she pulled off. I laid there with my eyes shut and didn't realize she had stripped completely, tossing her shirt and panties on the ground next to the couch. Veronica climbed on top of me and lowered her soaked pussy onto my throbbing, ready to explode dick.

There is that feeling of the very first time you enter a new lover. You know immediately, I think, that this is right or not. And Veronica felt so silky smooth and wonderful. I opened my eyes and she was smiling at me. We kissed passionately until she broke away and said, "Play with these." looking down at her incredible tits.

I did very little work; Veronica was on a mission. In less than five more minutes I whispered that I was about to cum and she simply responded, "Yes."

When I unloaded inside she kissed me again passionately, then eased herself up off of me. She reached down to the ground and grabbed her shirt and panties. "Here." she said, handing me the blue and yellow polka-dot bikini, "Use this. I think Jonah will enjoy it later."

I inspected the panties then took a long inhale and said, "I'll enjoy them now." with a chuckle before using them to wipe myself of our combined juices.

Veronica walked nude to the bathroom and as I swung myself up from the couch to get dressed, I admired that beautiful ass.

When she returned, dressed in shorts and the same shirt, she pushed me toward the door. "You are late, mister. What are they going to think of you at work just rolling in all willy nilly." She laughed.

I stood blocking the door. "I don't want to leave. Can I stay here with you and Emma today? I can read to her and take you shopping if you want."

"You are a good man, James. Your wife snagged a winner. I feel like I won the lottery the day you came into our lives." She told me.

I opened the door and look toward the window of Mrs. Kravitz. She stared with a scowl on her face, not moving one bit as I looked at her and smiled. "I guess I gotta go." I said.

Veronica reached up and grabbed my face, kissing me and then hugging me firmly. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them away saying, "I love you, James. You know that I will always have a special place in my heart for you."

"Hey." I said, "Are you okay? Are we good here? I need to know that we are good."

Veronica sniffed and wiped more tears from her face. "Yes, silly, we're good. It's all good."

I kissed her on the forehead and said, "Kiss the baby for me."

An hour later my co-worker was in my office with the door shut asking me why I was late and why I looked like I just had sex. "I need details, you sick bastard." he demanded.

"I don't look like I just had sex. I look like I just spent fifteen minutes locked in the men's room washing my dick and balls and ass." I said.

"Oh my God!" he said. "You had sex with a man?"

"No." I said. "I just want to make sure I'm clean before I go home."

That night, Sandra and I had a nice quiet evening involving dinner, several of the shows on our DVR list followed by twenty to thirty minutes of passionate lovemaking while the 10 PM newscast played on the TV in our room. "Whatever has gotten into you, I like." Sandra said with a giggle.

I was able to hold off until she rode herself to completion. As I felt her release, I came with a sense of relief and exhaustion. "I love it when that happens." she said, happy that we had cum together.

The following morning I called Veronica from work. She answered the phone in what seemed like an over-cheery voice. I didn't say anything, knowing that caller ID made it clear who I was. She then choked a bit, obviously having been crying. "Veronica, is everything okay?" I pleaded.

"James, you are such a good friend to me." She said, continuing to sob lightly.

"Was Jonah upset about..."

"No, no! Jonah is great. Everything is okay, I promise. I know you are busy at work, thank you for checking up on me." Veronica cut the conversation short.

"Okay." I said. "If you are good, then I'm good."

"James. Goodbye, James. I love you." She hung up.

I only realized on Monday just how much lack of intuition I have, and basically, what a complete idiot I am.

After spending the weekend enjoying life with my family, I had this need to see Veronica in person just to make sure that we had not made a huge mistake, going over the line with the unexpected encounter. I pulled into the apartment compound and I immediately noticed Veronica and Jonah's old couch standing upright next to the community dumpster. There was no mistaking the couch.

"Holy shit!" I thought to myself. "Was Jonah so upset that he needed to buy a new couch to eliminate the thought of Veronica and I doing the deed there?" But when I pulled further up to Apartment 3A, it was clear, the place was empty. No lights were on, the car was obviously gone, and the mini blinds were completely lifted open, showing the apartment to be empty.

I sat there in my truck, staring at the apartment, confused as to what was going on.

I was startled when Mrs. Kravitz knocked on my truck window. I lowered the window and she looked at me. She still had the same scowl but it seemed to soften a bit when she saw the distraught look on my face. She handed me an envelope and said nothing.

The envelope had been sealed, but it was clear that Mrs. Kravitz had opened it. There was no effort to even steam the envelope open, it was just torn into like a water bill or some magazine renewal notice.

I took it and thanked her, assuming she would walk back to her position in the window, but she stood there, apparently waiting for me to read it. I turned the truck off, pulled my reading glasses from a case on the console and took the letter from the envelope. It was written in beautiful cursive on a nice piece of writing paper.

My Dearest James,

I will never be able to repay you for the random act of kindness on a stormy day that brought you into our lives. You have provided our family with friendship and love, kindness and encouragement, and we cannot ever thank you enough for being there when we needed you.

I could not bring myself to tell you in person about what I know you will agree is positive news. That's what I get for being so naughty.

Two weeks ago, my grandmother contacted us and told me that my grandfather wanted us in his life. James, he is selling us one of his houses one street over from where my grandparents live. My grandmother and hopefully Kathy are going to help me out with Emma. I'm going back to school as soon as I can get back into St Mary's.

Our morning coffee has been such an important part of my life over that last six months, I don't know how I will make it without our conversations, and other things. We aren't moving far, but I'm smart enough to understand that you won't be able to stop by on your way to work. And of course, Jonah doesn't mind but I'm not sure how my grandfather would feel about you visiting me all the time. James, I will never stop loving you.

Your friends and partners in crime,

Veronica, Jonah and Emma

It was hard to avoid the tears that began to slowly stream down my face. I placed the letter back in the envelope and turned the truck on. Mrs. Kravitz looked at me and actually seemed to offer a sympathetic smile. She reached out and placed her hand on my forearm. "Ay cabrón. She is just a little girl and she is married."

She moved her hand to mine, holding my large hand in her small palm, rubbing my wedding band with the other. "You are married. Ay dios mio."

She smiled at me. "Supongo que su corazón tiene espacio para los dos."

She made the sign of the cross, said "Vaya con dios" and walked back to her apartment and the window she occupies.

--OOOOOO--

I drove up Military to Highway 90 and headed west toward Castroville and the Medina River. I called the office and said I wouldn't be in for the day, then stopped in a convenience store and picked up a 6-pack of Shiner Bock. I parked in that spot under the large oak tree, loosened my tie and ran my fingers through my hair a few times. I turned on K-BUC, a classic country station out of Devine, TX. I cracked open a beer as an old Mickey Gilly song, True Love Ways played in the background while I contemplated my mid-life crisis.

--The End -

Epilogue

This kind of thing never happens in real life, not to me anyway.

The very first line of The Veronica Story was my only real indication that what followed was a work of fiction. I never really wanted to confess that it wasn't real because I figured that if readers were anything like me, they would lose interest. Within the first set of comments on the blog however, a reader mentioned that I had used this same line in a previous story, and that story was true. Shit!

While Veronica, Jonah and Emma were characters created in my mind, a great deal of the fictional story is based on real people, places and emotions. I've been blogging since 2007, and I think I revealed more about myself in The Veronica Story than I have the entire time I've blogged.

A reader in San Antonio e-mailed me to tell how adding actual locations really helped in his appreciation of the story. The interesting thing to me was that, as I drove around the area where this story is primarily based, I could imagine everything unfolding.

There really is an "apartment compound" where, years ago I did some work for a friend to help bring several of the units up to code. There really was an old lady who would stare out her window and scowl at me. Some of the units were occupied by young mothers with babies, and honestly, it was a truly sad thing. I never felt any urge to flirt with these young ladies; as bad as this sounds, I think any of the three different young girls I met would have been available if the price were right. I have too much of a fatherly instinct to even consider it. And this is one of the main reasons the Veronica story is purely a work of fiction. I simply am not that guy - with a 24 year old.

When I first contemplated writing this story, my ideal Veronica would have been at least 30 if not older but as I thought about it, none of the other elements seemed to work. I wanted her to be married because Jonah was so important to the story, and I wanted her to have a child, but young enough to sleep in. So in the end, I came up with an age that was old enough not to make me appear overly creepy but young enough to believe that she and Jonah would still be struggling with finances and school, etc.

To begin writing, I had to have two things. First, I did some research on Tumblr and found several images of what Veronica would look like to me. I won't share the image because I feel like readers make up their own minds of what she looks like. The other thing I needed was a voice. At first, I imagined a rough chola voice common on San Antonio's south and west sides. But by chance, I met a new colleague at work and as soon as we were introduced, I knew she was Veronica. The snappy "Don't be a big baby" and "No hugs for you, Mister Boner" are things that I know this women would say. Though she is nothing like Veronica aside from being Hispanic and beautiful, this woman is a professional, has a professional husband and four kids all living in a beautiful home on San Antonio's north side. Over the last few weeks while obsessing about this story, I found myself in conversations with this woman where I had to remind myself that she was not really Veronica.

Veronica and her mother Kathy are also based on a family I know. My wife grew up with neighbors, a family of 4 girls, all stunningly beautiful The oldest now is in her late 50's, the youngest in her mid-40s. Two of these sisters danced for years because they had the bodies and the moves, and because the money helped support drug habits. The daughter of one of these sisters started dancing at age 19 and by 21 had a huge set of fake tits installed. I've never gone to see her perform because, frankly, I have fond memories of her as a 2 year old. The mother of this girl is who I fashioned Kathy after. She danced on and off well into her 30's and to be honest, I suspect she could still pull it off at 50. The woman is just naturally beautiful and gifted with a body that remains perfect into middle age.