I walked up the sidewalk in the rain towards the lighted porch. The weather matched my mood. I had come home from my office on campus and found a note. "Sorry, I don't think this is going to work our. I've gone back to Tennessee. Karen." I guessed that she had gone back to stay with her aunt.
She had left me and I was stunned and angry and depressed and sad-and somehow lighter and freer. But I needed to talk to somebody and that's why I was walking up to Greg and Rosemary's door. They owned a bookstore in town and I had spoken to them once or twice when browsing. They were also the teachers of the young adults class at the local church and they had told me when I visited the class a few weeks ago that they were always available if I needed anything. At the time I hadn't really paid attention, but now I did need someone-someone who would just listen - and Greg and Rosemary had seemed like that sort of people.
I rang the bell and stood close to the door to get out of the rain. I heard a movement within and then the door opened as far as the security chain would let it. There was silence for a moment and then Rosemary said," Oh, it's you-I didn't know who would be calling tonight." The door closed and then re-opened a second later as she put the chain back up on its holder.
"Come in out of the rain--- miserable night. I don't usually keep the door on the chain, but Greg's away at a bookseller's convention and I feel a little safer with it on."
I stepped inside and suddenly I felt foolish. I didn't know these people and here it was already past nine on a rainy night and I was bringing my problems to them. Or her rather. With Greg gone I was even less sure that I should be there.
"What can I do for you?" she asked "Come in, sit down."
"I-I just wanted someone to talk to and you said... No, it's stupid, I'm sorry I bothered you, I'll just be gong."
"Nonsense," she said. "Sit down on the sofa and tell me about it."
I took off my soaked jacket and hung it up and went into living room and sat on the end of the sofa. I had never really looked too closely at Rosemary before. She had a kind face-late 40's or early 50's I guessed. She was wearing a modest, dark blue dress which buttoned down the front and dark blue hose and high heels. Is this how she always dressed at home, I wondered? She was about 5'4"-average height I guess with a comfortable looking rounded body. She had curves in all the right places, but they were soft curves-she definitely wasn't a "hardbody."
"What is it you wanted to talk about?" she said with a sympathetic voice. She could see that I was upset. I was sitting rather stiffly and twisting my hands together while I wondered how to start the conversation. I decided that the only way was to be direct. I had found out that anticipation saying something difficult is almost always harder than actually saying the words. Once you say something you often find a sense of relief.
"My girlfriend left me."
"Oh." She said this softly and very quickly. She didn't say anything else, so I went on.
"She wasn't there when I came home this evening from my class and she left a note-" and I went on to explain what the note had said, how I was completely taken by surprise, how I felt-angry and sad, but free, and scared to be alone. I must have talked no-stop for 10 or 15 minutes. Rosemary nodded and made sympathetic noises until I stopped.
"Do you feel better now, having said all that to me?"
I nodded in agreement.
"Let me go put some water on, -- I'll make us a cup of tea or coffee if you prefer."
"Tea is fine," I said as I watched her walk into the kitchen.
She came back a moment later. "It will be ready in a few minutes," she said. She sat down on the other end of the sofa. "You must be really feeling low. I'm glad you felt you trusted me enough to tell me about this-something really personal. I've seen your girlfriend and she was gorgeous and seemed very vibrant and outgoing. It must be hard to lose someone like that."
"It is" I would miss all the fun we had together, all the serious talks we had, all the shared work of cooking and cleaning-and the sex, which frankly had been exceptional. Karen had been a screamer and I had never known such tremendous orgasms before-- either from a woman or for my self.
"I don't mean to compare myself with you," began Rosemary, "but I have an idea of how you feel. You see-well, I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but since you trusted me I guess I can trust you-- I feel the same way."
I paused for a moment, digesting what she had told me. " Greg's left you?" I asked tentatively.
""No, no, it's not quite like that-it's just-well, I suppose you could say that he has. He's emotionally absent and, well, there hasn't been anything physical between u for more than a year. When I try and discuss it with him he just insists there's nothing wrong. I feel abandoned and... "
I saw her lip quiver and her eyes were glistening. "I better go check the water," she said. She walked into the kitchen again. I didn't know what to think. I hadn't expected a personal revelation form her. But I sympathized with her-- as she did with me.
She came back carrying the tea on a tray. She set it down on the coffee table and began pouring. I noticed that the top button of her dress-as well as the bottom one were undone. This didn't really reveal very much-just a bit more of her chest, not a sign of cleavage and her nylon covered knee when she crossed her legs.
"I'm sorry, I don't mean to burden you with my problems, it's just that..." She was obviously trying to contain her emotions and her lips started to quiver again.
I didn't want her to cry-because if she started I would probably start too. "I think he's having an affair," she said quietly.
"I can't believe that," I said. "You're an attractive woman and..."
"That's not what men look for when they look for a sex partner," she interrupted. "You should know that-don't take this wrong, but you're a man. They want something new, something different, something forbidden. Oh, I don't know, he's just bored with me and he's at that convention and I suspect doing things to some other woman. I hate the thought."
"I know what you mean-I can't stand the thought that my girlfriend-ex-girlfriend-may be sleeping with someone else. But I still can't believe that Greg would cheat on someone like you." She looked like the tears were about to start falling and I put my hand on her shoulder, quite innocently.
She was sitting quite close to me on the couch and when I put my hand on her, she leaned her head forward and rested her forehead on my shoulder. Her shoulders were shaking and she was still trying not to cry. I moved my arm over her shoulder and patted her on the back. After a minute she looked up. Her face was just inches from mine. I could see the fine soft hairs on her upper lip, something which I found strangely exciting. leaned forward slightly and kissed me quickly and gently. She "Thank you," she whispered.
I didn't' know what she was thanking me for, so I just nodded. She stood up suddenly saying, "I've got to go make sure I turned the stove off."
That was odd, I thought, but that thought was short-lived because I was thinking about her kiss and how it made me feel. In a word, horny. The kiss had been innocent enough, but I remembered the warm feel of her body under my hand as I had patted her back and how soft and even inviting her lips had been when she pressed them to mine for just those couple of seconds. I felt my cock stir slightly.
About a minute later she came back into the room. I thought she had been gone a long time to just be checking the stove. I also noticed that now the top
two
buttons of her dress were undone, as well as the bottom two. She walked back over to the couch and sat very close to me. I smelled perfume-quite nice smell, but something that she hadn't been wearing before. Now I could see her cleavage,; and when she crossed her legs this time I could see a lot more of her leg as her skirt fell to either side. My cock stirred again.
"David, I've been thinking. I think we could help each other to - to-to feel better." She leaned close and looked me in the eye. She put her hand on my knee and left it there. "What do you think?"
"I'm not sure what you mean, Rosemary." But I did. Because she had slid her hand up onto my thigh.