All you "normal thinking" conservative women leave this story alone. First of all it is about what an exceptional woman did for me and second of all it is true. She is gone now. Writing about her helps me keep our thirty years together alive in my memory.
Roselyn was a talented, intelligent beautiful woman through her twenties, thirties and forties. She remained beautiful through her fifties and into her sixties in my eyes. Then she died. At fifty Parkinson's and degenerative bone disease attacked her sexy, tasty enticing body. She was racked by more pain, endured more operations and struggled for clarity through more drugs than any person should ever have to. Still, most days she smiled, thought of others and tried to live.
God teased her and me with flashes of improvement and hope. Three operations got her out of a wheelchair and gave her back control of her body functions. But then within a year, her voice was almost gone, she stumbled a lot, her body twisted and she lived with many constant cramps in her lovely back. Our wonderful sex life vanished forever. Her model body found some solace in food. I did not mind the extra forty pounds but she did. At least her taste buds worked.
When she was fifty-six, Roselyn began urging me to find sex outside our marriage. I flirted wildly, probably cheating in most women's eyes, by kissing and touching strippers. But, I never dated outside the bar, never went to a prostitute and never had sex with another woman. Roselyn had a horrible jealous streak in her younger days. I knew it would hurt her, if I ever did what she was giving me permission to do. Besides, I had been around in my early days and never found any sex that was half as good as it was with Roselyn. My memories were good. She was inventive, willing, naughty and wild. Even in our early years together, every time she passed out I was thankful that she had not killed me first.
We finally reached a point that we needed help during the day. I was a healthy, active athletic sixty-year old. After years of being her daily care giver, I was starting to get stir crazy. Roselyn needed a female companion to talk to, to take her shopping, to watch TV with, to keep her on her medications and to be her friend when I wasn't home. Officially, I had retired to take care of her. For my own sanity I would sometime escape to remodel a house or work with one of our sons. I often felt guilty when she would get lonely, have one of our boys take her to medical appointments, forget her medications or just need daily help. The day she finally agreed to have a paid companion, she further surprised me by wanting to do all the interviewing and make the hiring decision.
After a couple of weeks, I was pretty sure that Roselyn wasn't serious. She had resisted the companion idea for years. Each night, She talked my ear off about how bad each candidate was. How some could not understand her and how others could not look at her twitches and ticks. At least she was staying busy. Having fun as best she could.
One evening, Roselyn announced that I would be meeting a woman named Rita the next morning. It would be a month long trial. All I was told was that Rita was a forty-two year old divorcee with grown children and money problems. What I saw was entirely different.
Rita arrived promptly at ten. Roselyn always slept late. Because of all the drugs, even ten was pushing it. She liked a slow start; usually, she could be ready to go shopping by one p.m.
I definitely have a weakness for tall redheads, with good posture, bright green eyes and a confident air. Roselyn must have had all this in mind when she found Rita. I'm sure I did a foolish double take and held my breath when I saw her. I recovered quickly and wiped my mouth, hoping I had not drooled on my shirt. We exchanged all the niceties and I excused myself, claiming some work to do. Going to jack off would have been a good idea. Roselyn gave me a knowing smile as I gave her a quick goodbye kiss.
I kept my distance during the day for the next few days. Over the weekend, Roselyn was tired. She had pushed too hard, going places and doing things with Rita. Rita in turn had enjoyed the freedom of money, eating out, shopping, driving a Jag, etc. Roselyn had never met a stranger and was universally liked by everyone who met her before she got sick. It was the same now for those who took the time to see past her disease.
The following Wednesday was hot. I knocked off work early and was home by three. Rita was cleaning up the kitchen. She told me Roselyn was sleeping and offered me a glass of iced tea. I accepted on the grounds that she would take a break and have one with me on the patio. Conversation was easy. We had a lot of the same interests. During a few pauses we both felt a lot of sexual tension. We had talked for about an hour when she said that Roselyn had told her a lot about me.
I was instantly aware of what my lovely wife was doing. I became very quiet and the quietness made Rita uneasy. After a minute or two she lowered her eyes, stood, gathered the glasses and said softly, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say anything out of line or offend you."
I reached out and caught her hand. "Rita, please sit back down." I'm sure my eyes were watery. "It just dawned on me, one of the things that Roselyn has done. First of all she has told me how much she likes your company and how much fun you are. Don't let what I say shock you, be a problem for you or affect your job or friendship with her."
She nodded as if to say, "Go on, I won't."
"Rita, my wife knows me very well. I don't know you very well, but physically, if I were to describe my fantasy woman, you would be it. You seemed to be active, fit, interested in art, travel, food, flowers, etc. Roselyn knows all that. She has urged me to find a female friend for years. It really bothers her that I have given up so many things to take care of her. She barely understands that it is what I wanted to give her."
"Jim, that explains a lot. I have suspected as much. She has even had me read some of your erotic stories."
For the first time in years, I think I blushed.
She continued, "She has pegged me too, you know. I do fantasize about having an older, successful, playful, naughty, sensitive man in my life."
Her voice had dropped in pitch. It was husky. My legs were spread comfortably but my cock was swelling and I had to open them a little wider. Rita's eyes dropped to my crotch. I did not try to cover my excitement.
She stood, leaned forward and lightly kissed my cheek. "I feel the same way, but right now I need a breather." She walked back to the kitchen with our empty tea glasses.
Over the next weeks Rita and Roselyn bonded nicely. I was enjoying the freedom and pleased that Roselyn was so happy. I definitely was at a disadvantage. Rita read many of my stories, knew my work history, our family background and whatever else Roselyn told her. I just knew Rita had great pheromones; I wanted her every time she got within six feet of me. Although it was not part of her job as originally discussed, I often saw that she had done a little of the wash, cleaning and cooking. Those were my jobs. I thanked her. We were still struggling about how to act around each other.
One evening, well after Rita's usual going home time, she was busy making the taco salad for dinner. Roselyn was supervising. She loved to tell me what to do also. Roselyn was clearly having a bad time, lots of jerking movements and cramps.
