Bizarre!
That's what my friends and family thought about my relationship with Amber.
For the past 30 months or so, we have been friends. Perhaps I've been a better friend to her than she to me but that has yet to be seen.
For about five months before that we weren't friendly at all, at least I certainly wasn't.
For 23 years before that we were married to each other!
What's bizarre to me is that yesterday I got a call from Sam (Samantha) to say that she is headed back home from her weekend across the state in St. Louis but that our discussion and our decision would have to be put on hold for a while as she was bringing someone back with her and she felt it was important.
That "someone" was Amber!
What in hell was Amber doing in St. Louis and more important, why was Sam bringing her home and why did we have to put our decision on hold?
Sam and I aren't married but we have been living together for most of the past two years. The decision she referred to is that we planned to make a significant change in our "live-in" relationship and to have my ex-wife coming to interrupt that, is bizarre.
***
I grew up in foster homes and group homes and learned to deal with life the hard way. Those years made me as physically tough as I needed to be to fight for and maintain a starting position on both my high school and college football teams and that, combined with enough intelligence, at least to get by, helped me achieve the financial success I currently have, . . . that is, with a whole lot of help from a friend.
It has also helped me tough out the emotional problems in my life.
As I said, I was in a number of foster homes since birth, but the one that had the most effect on me was the last one I was in, with old Charlie Evanston. I had been placed with him and his wife Edith, with whom he lived at the time.
It was, as I recall, a wonderful loving and caring home and, overall, continued to be afterwards, but he caught Edith having sex with a neighbor one night after, both Charlie and she, along with the rest of their neighbors, had had a wild night of drinking and dancing at a street party.
He insisted she leave and over the next few weeks bought out her share of their home. Because there was no other place immediately available for a teenage boy, the powers that be at the Children's Protection Service, let me stay with Charlie and I spent almost 3 more years there, visiting Edith on alternate weekends in her one bedroom apartment.
Edith never recovered.
Often, going there was a chore as she was usually very morose when she wasn't outright crying, often for the whole weekend. She went on and on about what an awful mistake she had made and how much it must have hurt Charlie to lead him to throw her out and not even consider letting her return.
Sometimes she cheered up a little on the weekends when I was there, but her overall depression made it impossible for her to hold a job for long, yet she somehow got the rent paid and there was always enough food in the refrigerator.
Charlie didn't show it, not at all, but I'm pretty sure he was hurting too.
In a rare moment of intimacy between us one day, a year later, I asked him why he didn't forgive Edith. His face saddened visibly, he looked right at me and said, "This is between you and me and no one else, right?"
I nodded.
I could see tears coming to his eyes as he said, "I've already forgiven her. I loved her for too long and far too much not to forgive her."
"Then why doesn't she come back to live with us?"
"Because as much as I love her, it isn't enough for both of us and I don't believe she loves me enough. If she did, she wouldn't have fucked that son-of-a-bitch no matter how drunk she was. I miss her terribly but I can stand this hurt better than the hurt that comes from being with someone you know doesn't love you enough to remain true."
That confused me at least a little as, every second weekend, I listened to Edith pour her heart out about how much she had hurt Charlie and how, knowing that she had hurt him, she had hurt herself too. Because of Charlie's refusal to let her return, her regret over her transgression and most of all her pain from hurting Charlie so badly, seemed obvious to me and although still very young at the time, I remember feeling that there was no way Edith would ever hurt him again but before I could say anything to him, he added,
"Life is like a poker game, if you let them see how you are feeling, you lose! No matter how much you hurt inside, don't let anyone see it. Try to show that in spite of what has happened, you are getting on just fine. It will help you do exactly that. It will also help you avoid the embarrassment of foolish emotional behavior because the embarrassment and humiliation from your own stupidity, if you handle it badly, will last a lot longer than the emotional hurt of betrayal."
***
Charlie would let me play ball all night if I wanted, provided that; first, my homework was done and second, I played as well as I could.
Charlie said, "If you're not putting your best into it, you shouldn't be doing it."
I practiced more than I played and when I played, I did it well! I won a full ride at State and, with additional alumni support, actually had a decent income from a part-time sinecure as well, as long as my grades were good and I was a starter.
There were no end to the girls and women who were available, given my status as a school "jock", and as well as a reputation for being a top athlete, I also had a reputation for fucking and drinking my way through the school.
***
For most of my high school years, I didn't date and of course remained a virgin but my cherry was taken just after I turned eighteen, by Marci James.
I was 5' 11'' and 195 lbs of muscle and co-ordination and her boyfriend at the time, although he was bigger than me, tried to beat on me for accidentally bumping in to her one day. I beat him to a pulp right in front of her and Marci, screwed up as she was, was so turned on by it all that later that day she seduced me in the park underneath the bleachers.
There wasn't much foreplay.
Once under the seats, she took me in her arms and kissed me, forcing her tongue into my mouth. I had been jerking off regularly for years by then and had a pretty good idea what this was all about.
My cock was hard as hell.
After the kiss, she stepped back, opened her blouse, unhooked her bra in front, letting the first tits I had ever seen in the flesh fall free and then she told me to suck on them.
I wasn't at all slow on the uptake and I soon had my lips locked on a nipple.
It seemed to me that I was only at it for a few moments when she pushed me back, fell to her knees, unbuckled my pants, pulled down the zipper and pulled my jeans and boxers down to my knees, freeing my erect cock.
In moments I went from a guy who had never seen tits in the flesh, to a guy getting his first blowjob!
The feeling was incredible and I came quickly, too quickly, but she kept sucking, trying, I guess, to keep it hard. After a while, she stopped and told me to lie down on my back. When I did, she knelt beside me and got back to the blowjob.
When I was hard again, she stood up, lifted her skirt and pulled off her panties. She straddled me and sat down on my cock, taking it in, in one stroke and I was being fucked for the first time.
Even after having just cum in her mouth, I knew I was ready to cum again as she bounced up and down on me.
It's amusing now, but it was serious then. After only a minute or so (or so I remember it) she gasped as if in pain and I momentarily panicked thinking I had hurt her, but as she recovered from what I now know to be an orgasm, she looked down at me with the same look I had seen in a number of porn photos that I jerked off on and I came for the second time as she lifted off me.
On disengaging, she grabbed my cock and jerked me until I was spent.
She told me I was a good fuck and she might just call me sometime, then she left.
Afterwards I took her panties home with me. I don't remember what I was thinking at the time, perhaps a souvenir or a trophy, but that turned out to be the best thing that could have happened.
I didn't hide them very well and when Charlie was picking up clothes for the laundry one day, he found them.
When he asked, I told him the whole story. He smiled a bit and asked me if we had used a "rubber". When I asked what he meant, he explained it, then told me we were going to see the doctor.
Dr. Granet and Charlie told me about STD's and that the exam showed I wasn't infected . . . this time. They taught me about condoms and Charlie insisted that I keep one with me and that I use one every time, without exception, until I was ready to assume the responsibilities of a parent or I was ready to let myself possibly catch AIDS or any number of other STD's.
For my senior year, with my status as a starter for both our football and basketball teams, I was buying condoms by the dozen and later I used even more when I got to college.
***
Shortly before my high school graduation, Edith died quite suddenly. About a month later, Charlie told me he was going to retire after I graduated and move back to New Mexico, where he was born and raised, to live with his brother and sister-in-law. He sold the house we lived in and invested half the money, about $85,000, in a portfolio that he gave me, telling me that upon graduation I was on my own.
I missed him terribly but knew he wouldn't like me saying so. We kept in touch by telephone now and then, but I still felt alone.
To cope, during my first college year, I buried myself in studies, sports and getting laid, not necessarily in that order.
We had a winning record in my first year and some of the local papers listed me as the main reason.