At the End of the Day

This is a follow-up to

A Roaring Craving (Mature -- 12/19/2020)

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When a guy has the sort of night that Wade Kimball just had with Melinda Everette, he looks forward to many more. Wade knew that Melinda wanted to see more of him as well. And she would, too, but she refused to share him with another woman, in this case Susan Radebaugh, the Susan Dey lookalike that Wade had been seeing for a few months. Melinda didn't give him an ultimatum. No, it was nothing like that. She just didn't feel comfortable cavorting in bed with a man who was doing the same thing with someone else. Susan wouldn't much like it either, Melinda had told him, and he knew she was right. Of course, he could keep his affair from Susan while telling Melinda that Susan was history. Wade knew guys like that, guys who cheat and lie and deceive and not lose five minutes sleep over it. However, that wasn't Wade's MO.

So, what was he going to do? The choice should be "obvious," as Melinda had told him. Melinda, besides being a couple decades older, was mom to Brian Everette, one of Wade's close friends, while Susan was in his generational ballpark. She was a 'nice kid,' as Wade had told Melinda. There was a possible "future" with her.

As upright a guy as Wade might have been, he also subscribed to the notion that ignorance is bliss. Or, put another way, what someone doesn't know won't hurt them. By "ignorant," he meant Susan in this case because he knew, as Melinda did, that a carnal-heavy liaison between a guy and a woman old enough to be his mom, had a relatively short shelf life. Ultimately, it was a "dead-end" as Melinda herself had acknowledged. Wade saw nothing wrong with "getting a little extra on the side." He was still in his twenties, still eager to sow wild oats and prescient enough to know that one day, the older woman he coveted today would be the younger woman of tomorrow. In other words, in a few decades, women such as the forty-something Melinda Everette would seem young to him. Carpe diem.

Sex with Melinda had been electrifying, more gratifying on a purely carnal level than what he had going with Susan. Susan was sensuous in her own way, but there was something about older, attractive women a la' Melinda that ramped up Wade's libido to stratospheric heights. Sex with Susan, while still satisfying, had become somewhat pedestrian. Susan was young and very pretty but she lacked the exciting sexuality he found in the older, incredibly sensuous Melinda. Was it wrong to possess the best of two worlds? In his mind, no, though he knew he'd have his work cut out for him in trying to convince Melinda of that.

Except...

Except, he didn't have to because Melinda's roaring craving for an encore with Wade had forced her to reconsider. Holding oneself to moral principles might work in a perfect world lived in by perfect people. But Melinda, like the world she lived in, was far from perfect, and she had needs and desires crying out for fulfillment. But what did she want, exactly? She denied thinking of Wade as her gigolo because it wasn't just about the sex. Yes, sex was a big part of it; she'd be kidding herself by denying it. He had ravished her three times, shot her to the moon and back. Those warm waves of sensation that washed over her after her initial climax were to die for, not to mention the affectionate way he had cuddled with her afterward. A woman, particularly a middle-age woman who's had that kind of joyful experience after a long sexual/romantic drought, was likely to want more of it, and Melinda was no exception.

She liked Wade Kimball, his hard, athletic body and what he could do with it, on the athletic field, as she knew, and in bed as she had recently found out. He had a quirky, offbeat sense of humor and he was smarter than she had given him credit for—his fund of knowledge exceeded hers in certain categories, exceeded even her brilliant son's in the same way. In sum, she could see herself having fun with Wade Kimball out of bed as well as in it.

She still wasn't comfortable being the Other Woman, sharing Wade with Susan Radebaugh. Melinda was well aware that Susan had entered his life first, which made herself the intruder. She also knew, or at least sensed, that Wade was okay with seeing two women at the same time. The whole dilemma left her confused and frustrated, yet not so confused that a week after she last saw Wade, at close to eleven at night, she found herself sitting up in bed, knees bent, her back against her headboard, with nothing on except a sheer blue nightgown. Her room was dark save for the bluish glow of her portable TV, its sound turned down.

"Hi Wade. Hope I didn't wake you."

"Melinda! No, I'm wide awake, waiting for the news to come on. I didn't expect to hear from you anytime soon."

"Disappointed?"

"Ha ha. You know that can't be true."

"I miss you, Wade."

"Enough to change your mind? Because I miss you, too. A lot, actually."

Even the sound of his baritone voice could produce arousal. "A lot, yes, well, me too." She braced herself for this question. "Still seeing Susan?"

"Yes. Is that still a problem?"

"With you, apparently not. With me, kind of. However..." She paused to gather her thoughts. "Look, I miss you too much to be hung up over you seeing someone you met long before we got together. So I'd like to make plans."

"Sure. I'll be over in twenty minutes."

She laughed. "Can you make it in five?"

"I left my jet pack in the office."

After more laughter, she said, "Seriously, this might sound weird to you, but I've always loved ice skating. Wanna go?"

"Absolutely. In fact, I went a couple weeks ago at Meadowbrook."

"With Susan?" She slapped her pillow, mad at herself for asking.

"Ah, yeah. I wasn't going to say anything but—"

"No, that's okay, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business."

"No problem, skating sounds great. I bet you'd look incredibly sexy in those outfits the pros wear."

"Thanks, but I haven't worn that kind of outfit since my mom took me as a little girl. You'll just have to settle for wool slacks."

"Darn. Well, speaking of outfits, what are you wearing now?"

"Something I'd think you'd find far sexier than a skating outfit."

"Do tell."

"A see-though nightie, no panties or bra."

"Oh man! If I was there, my head would be between your beautiful legs, giving you a serious tongue lashing. And I think you know where."

She began touching herself, twirling her fingers around her nipples and then sinking an index finger into the moistness. "You should know that I'm getting seriously turned on. Are you sure you left that jet pack at the office?"

*****

On the way over to Melinda's condo to pick her up on a typically cold January Saturday afternoon, it dawned on Wade that this was their first real date, an escalation of something that began right after New Year's. It wasn't just about the sex and in wouldn't be just about the sex. He still hadn't said a word to Susan, nor did he plan to, not unless things got "serious" with Melinda. Serious in his mind would mean he'd want to see just her and no one else, including the strikingly pretty, Susan Radebaugh. Melinda had picked an outdoor rink to go skating. She didn't explain why, though Wade felt she was avoiding Meadowood, the rink where Wade had just been with Susan.

Striking would be the right adjective to describe Melinda, Wade thought, when she greeted him at the door wearing plaid wool pants and a black sweater. Her hair, parted in the middle, curled at the ends, and her bangs made her look as if she could almost pass for an early wave baby boomer instead of a woman born during the Roosevelt administration. Striking, as in strikingly cute.

She greeted him with a warm kiss and then grabbed her skates, a red wool cap and a short tan coat. "So nice to see you," she said. She locked her arm with his as they headed down the sidewalk to the parking lot.

When they got to his car, an '82 blue Camaro, he leaned over and kissed her. "Great seeing you."

"Are you sure you'll be warm enough?" she asked.

Wade opened his leather jacket. "I've got a sweater underneath. Plus, I'm warm-blooded." He winked.

She nodded. "No argument here." As he drove off the lot, she gawked at the outline of his muscular thighs under his tight corduroys, thighs that reminded her of Eric Heiden, the great speed skater who six years before had captured five gold medals at the winter Olympics. "Warm-blooded with thighs of steel."

He reached over and squeezed her knee. "If I've got thighs of steel, you've got thighs of velvet. At least that's how they felt to me." He chuckled. "If I keep talking like this, I won't be able to skate very well."

"Now you know how I felt on the phone the other night," she said. "You drive me wild, Wade Kimball."

Wade looked forward to feeling those velvety thighs wrapped around him as he drove to the rink. It was on the grounds of Memorial Stadium, home of the Baltimore Orioles and once the Colts until their recent departure to Indianapolis. Wade rented his skates, and figured that if Melinda still owned a pair, she was probably a better skater than he, a notion she proved only moments after they hit the ice. "It's like riding a bike," she said, "you never forget."

Wade didn't glide as effortlessly as she, but he did okay. He enjoyed speed, sprinting down the straights, weaving around other skaters, while Melinda was content to keep her smooth form and her speed down to a cruise. "Hey, Eric Heiden," she shouted, "next time around, maybe you can slow down and hold my hand so we can skate as a couple."

He looked back, pumped his thumb in the air and then, when he circled back, he glided up and slid his gloved hand into her gloved hand. He thought she looked adorable in that red wool cap. He began to wish that he had also brought something to wear over his ears. His Greek sailor's cap kept his head warm but his earlobe-length hair wasn't enough to warm his ears.

Now in sync, they glided around the rink holding hands, watching the other skaters and gazing into each other's eyes. After they circled the rink a few times, she put the brakes on and then, as other skaters glided by, she said, "Kiss me."

They smooched in the middle of the rink, oblivious to the people, most of whom were oblivious to them. "I can't wait to get close to you," Wade said.

She shook the bangs out of her eyes in that erotic way that Wade loved. "I was just about to suggest that. It's freezing out here and I can't think of anything I'd like better than your warm body next to mine. Anyway, your ears are turning red." She reached up and cupped her hands over them. "Not to be a Jewish mother, but next time wear muffs."

After Wade turned in his skates, they left the rink, just missing the newly arrived couple who had seen their little kiss-fest on the ice. The guy was Jay Helman, another former neighbor and still a friend of Brian's. Jay was of average height, a bit chubby as he had been all his life, and he looked even chubbier in his blue, down-lined ski jacket. His body type matched that of Tyra Davidson, his girlfriend who didn't know either Wade or Melinda. She had long dark hair, was slightly freckled, and her fair, Irish complexion stood in sharp contrast to her bright red ski sweater. They were seated in the bleachers that overlooked the rink, tying up their skates. Jay turned to Tyra and said, "If I didn't see that with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. I still don't. Bad boy Wade Kimball doing kissy face with Melinda Everette, Brian's mom? What the hell is going on with them?! From what I remember, Mrs. Everette couldn't stand Wade Kimball. Not to mention that she's at least twenty years older. Not to mention that Wade and Brian were best buds. This could be the biggest thaw in human relations since Reagan and Gorbachev got together."

Tyra grinned. "Maybe he's her gigolo." Jay rolled his eyes. "Hey, you never know."

"No, but I feel compelled to call Brian in California to find out. That's if he even knows."

Tyra finished tying her skates and stood up. "Well, you don't want to freak-out the guy."

"We'll see." Jay then headed out to the ice with Tyra.

*****

An hour later, Wade and Melinda were doing more than just kissy face. Only moments after arriving back at Melinda's condo, their naked bodies came together in her king-sized bed. "I can't think of anything I'd rather be doing on a cold January afternoon than this," she said.

They were both on their knees, feet tucked under them, facing and holding each other. She arched back as Wade leaned forward, licking her tummy and her hardened nipples. Slowly, she leaned back further and further until her back landed on the mattress—at least the top part of her back, because Wade had her feet dangling over his shoulders, his head between her legs and his tongue slashing its way over, around and inside her freshly-shaved pussy. This position afforded ideal leverage for maximum oral penetration, something he knew and something that Melinda obviously knew; her loud vocal reaction said it all. She gripped the sheets, squirmed and moaned under Wade's deft touch, his tongue going at it as if he exercised the right muscles just to give maximum pleasure to women who liked this sort of thing.

No doubt, Melinda liked this sort of thing. In fact, she craved it, because Wade obviously knew what he was doing. She wanted him inside her, but she was in no hurry, not with Wade's tongue going a million miles an hour and the fire inside her burning at a million degrees, making her so hot, she'd either melt or pass out. In any case, she didn't protest when he changed direction, entered her rock-hard as usual and then, seemingly out of nowhere, told her she was the hottest, most beautiful woman he'd ever been with. She didn't ask how many, because she didn't care, didn't care if it was just one other, presumably Susan Radebaugh. She didn't care because it didn't matter. He was now with HER, totally with her, pleasuring her more than she'd been pleasured in many a year—if in fact she'd ever in her life been pleasured like this.

Her climax came, as it always did with Wade, and then, after they "came down," her thoughts turned to her children, Brian and Lisa. She still intended to keep her liaison with Wade secret. But if things continued to progress, she might have to let them know. Better for them to find out through her than getting it through some rumor mill.

"You look kind of pensive," Wade said. He kissed her shoulder. "You can tell me."

She did a half-turn from her back to face him. "Oh, just thinking about Brian and Lisa. I'd still like to keep them in the dark about us."

"Yep, me too. Especially Brian because we're still friends."

"Okay, but..." She sighed. "Look, Wade, I don't know about you, but I see potential here for us. No, not marriage, so don't get scared. What I'm thinking is something long-term enough for people close to us, my kids and your family, to know that I mean more to you than simply Brian's mom. Of course, my concerns are just so much ado about nothing if we're on different pages."

"Melinda, if what we did today is any indication, we're on the same page. Same page, same story. I love being with you, making love to you, doing overnights with you."

"And skating with me, I hope. That is, when you're not tearing down the rink like a maniac."

He chuckled at her gentle tease. "Yes, and skating with you. And, come summer, I hope we can add sun bathing and body surfing to our itinerary."

Body surfing and sun bathing. That told her right there that he was thinking ahead. "I'd love to," she said, then kissed him on the mouth. "But right now, could you settle for making love to me again?"

"I could settle for that anytime."

*****

Melinda always welcomed a call from her son Brian. But when he called a couple nights later, she sensed there was something amiss the moment she heard his voice. His tone had a cautious urgency about it. "Everything okay, son? You sound, I don't know, like you're about to tell me some bad news. You okay?"

"I was fine until I got a call from Jay Helman."

"Jay Helman, your friend who lived across the street from us?"

"Yes."

"I haven't seen Jay in years. Is he okay?"

"He's doing fine, involved with the emerging personal computer industry. Anyway, he said he and his girlfriend saw you and Wade Kimball ice skating together at the stadium rink. True?"

She felt something drop in her stomach, something akin to a lead ball. "Um, well, yes, I was there with Wade. You said to give him a chance, remember?"

"Right, I did. But, from what Jay told me, you apparently took things way beyond what I meant."

Letting out a deep breath, she could feel beads of sweat collecting on her forehead. "What did Jay tell you, exactly?"

"He said you two were making out in the middle of the rink like, quote unquote, 'two love-struck teenagers.' You must be talking about someone else, I told him, but he said no, insisted it was you and Wade. Care to explain?"

Should she lie? No, that would only make things worse. "Honey, I wasn't ready to tell you and Lisa, at least not this soon, but I guess it no longer matters. So yes, as implausible as it sounds—and it still sounds that way even to me—Wade and I have been seeing each other. I had been so wrong about him, so unfair the way I treated him in years past. He's a great guy."

"MOM, HE'S A GOOD FRIEND OF MINE AND HE'S YOUNG ENOUGH TO BE YOUR SON!"

She jerked the receiver away from her ear. "You don't have to shout, son, I can hear you. Look, you're outraged and I don't blame you. Explain it? I can't. Things just happened."

"WHAT—sorry. What things?"

"What things? The things that typically happen when men and women are attracted to one another, when they have needs and find someone to fill those needs. It's really not all that complicated." Please don't ask if we're having sex, she thought.

"So, are you like, sleeping together?"

Oh boy. "Brian, there are some things that moms don't discuss with their sons. I'll leave it at that."

"I'll take that as a yes. Ohmygod..."

"You shouldn't be embarrassed."

"I shouldn't?"

"Look, you're in California and your sister's in Colorado. Just live your life and let me live mine. Right now, I'm a very happy woman and a lot of the credit goes to Wade Kimball. If you're uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I hope this doesn't hurt your friendship with Wade."

"Not at all. I mean, why should a good friend of mine—now ex-good friend, I should say—who's schtupping my mom compromise a friendship? Geez, mom, get real."

Her emotions were coming to the surface, and the last thing she wanted was to cry on the phone. "Brian, I've gotta go. We'll talk later. Love you."

She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. Suddenly she burned with rage toward Jay Helman. If that fat nerd had kept his gossipy mouth shut, she could have broken the news in her own good time. She wasted no time in calling Wade. "So now he knows, and I suspect he'll be telling Lisa in short order," Melinda said after telling him about Brian's call. "He might or might not call you. He's pretty angry."

"Thanks for the head's-up," Wade said. "You sound upset."

"I am upset. If I ever run into that Jay Helman..."

"It'll be okay, you'll see. People adjust to novel circumstances that maybe they thought they couldn't."

"I hope you're right. You sound...rushed. Are you busy?"

"Ah, no, not really. Just watching Cheers."

"One of the better sitcoms. Okay, I'll let you get back."

*****

He WAS watching Cheers. What he didn't say was that he was watching it with company, a one Susan Radebaugh, who was sitting next to him on his heavy wood sofa from Cargo wearing shorts, house slippers and a loose-fitting top sans bra. She had an overnight bag sitting in Wade's bedroom and for good reason: she planned to stay the night.