The following story is based on true events. The names have been changed for obvious reasons. You may want to read my "Go Ahead part 1" to get a little background information about me. This is going to be more 'informative than erotic' as you need more information which leads to events that happened later on. My name is Steve.
Looking back at my life, I guess I was rather naive. I had a lot of common sense, but sometimes the obvious things were the clues I missed time after time. Nonetheless, life has a way of working out in the end, one way or another.
I was a freshman attending college on a full scholarship when I received the call about my mom. She had obviously been in worse shape than I had ever imagined. She had a heart condition and was undergoing an out-patient procedure when something went wrong and she was gone. I immediately rushed home to be with my dad and take care of the arrangements. To this day, I find it hard to believe that I stepped-up and took control of the situation as my dad was an unraveled bag of emotion. I always figured I would lose him quickly if anything happened to mom. Mom and Dad seemed so perfect together; I really did expect him to grieve himself to death.
After the funeral, I spent as much time as I could with him. I lived on campus about 100 miles away, so I drove home almost every weekend and sometimes during the week to be with him. As strong of a man as he was, I saw the frailty of his heart. In his eyes, he had lost everything. I comforted him as I felt necessary and admonished him when I felt he needed it. I (for once) was the grown-up, trying to help Dad through these trying times.
About a year or so later, during my sophomore year, he came to the campus and I was shocked to see him when I answered my dormitory door. He had taken early retirement since he had enough years at work and met the age requirements. (I was a late child). He asked if we could talk. Dad had never come to visit. Now, I was totally scared and confused. I invited him in and I sat at my desk as he sat on the edge of my bed. We did the 'small-talk' thing until I finally realized he did not come here to talk about my schooling or the weather. I finally said, "Dad, what's up?"
He explained about how he still loved my mother, missed her dearly and she could never be replaced by anyone, but she was gone and he was wondering if it was time to move on. I (again naive) had no idea where he was going with this when he informed me that he had decided to eat dinner at Donna's (one of the neighborhood widows) house on Friday night. I had known Donna and her husband all my life. They lived a few houses down and had no children. I even went to his visitation when he died, and she had also attended my mom's funeral. I was still wondering where this was going.
It was around dinner time, so I suggested we run downtown and grab bite to eat and we could talk. He readily accepted and we went to the local diner. I was happy to see my dad and the opportunity to have a nice dinner instead of school cafeteria food was more than a student could ask for. Especially since he was buying! We ate and I asked how all this came about.
This was back in the late 70's/early 80's and being on campus had opened my eyes to the wonderful world of women. Obviously, my time with Margie had been educational because I was going through the student body of the college like wildfire.
Now, before you get the wrong impression, I was not trying to 'put notches in my bedpost' or anything like that, but girls outnumbered the guys by 3 to 1, so finding a date was the least of your problems. On several occasions, a girl would call and ask me to take her somewhere. So unless the girl was steady with another guy, you could pretty much count on a date if you asked. So I asked girls out; and I asked A LOT of girls out. Dating was a pastime. I honestly preferred not to be intimate with girls on campus. It was too much of a risk for me to chance my scholarship on a quick romp. Before her passing, I heard mom tell someone who asked about how I was getting along in college and she replied, "Oh, he's majoring in 'social life'. He has a different date every night."
Anyway, back to the story. It was almost a year since mom had died and he explained to me that his phone was suddenly ringing off the hook. It was like his phone number had been re-listed in the Yellow Pages under 'eligible bachelors' or something. I laughed at that and told him that women were plentiful there at campus also. He 'arched' his brow at me, smiled and simply said, "Be careful".
I got the gist of that statement and said "You too!"
He sort of blushed and said "You don't have to worry about that." I later found out that he had underwent a vasectomy years ago, so he was "shooting blanks" as he liked to call it.
As I said, I had known Donna all my life. She was 12 years younger than my mom, which made her 14 years younger than dad. She was a nice looking woman but totally opposite of my mother. Mom was a petite woman. Around 5'2", 115 pounds soaking wet and when I was younger, I had checked her bra and it was a 32B. (Remember from my other story, I was a very curious child.) Anyway, Donna was probably 5'8". I would guess her to weigh somewhere around 150 or 160. If she were living today, Donna would have been described as voluptuous.
The first thing you ever noticed about Donna (other than she NEVER had a hair out of place) was her chest. It entered the room long before she did. She was huge. I later found out she wore a 44DD. I remember her hugging me at her husband's funeral (heart attack at 46, she was 45) and feeling her tits press into me and while I noticed, I really tried to not think much about it. I had thought about her tits before and will have to admit, I think about them still.
If you remember, in my earlier years, Charles had a variety of magazines. Most were Playboy or Penthouse, but occasionally he had what I would call 'specialty magazines'. I actually enjoyed those more as I found them to be more realistic. Pictures of real women helped fan the excitement needed to aid in masturbation. Some of my favorite fantasies were of full-figure women, so I had actually used those and 'pictured in my mind' Donna and other real women that I actually knew. Yes, she was older, but I have always had a thing for older women.
Anyway, he was there to talk to me about getting on with his life and making sure I was going to be okay with him dating. I assured him that his 'mourning' while natural was unhealthy and he did need to get on with his life. I even said, "Mom would kick your ass if she was still alive. She would have wanted you to go on with your life even if it was without her." He almost started to cry which almost started me crying.
I asked him if he needed any advice about woman and dating and he was kind of 'taken back'. I explained that he had only dated one girl before dating and marrying mom and I had WAY MORE experience than he did. He gave me a 'yeah, right' kind of look when I asked him, "So who called who?"
He stared at me and asked, "What?"
