Author's Foreword: By design I don't have many readers while I teach myself to write on Literotica. Moreover, I fully express my socially and politically incorrect PoV along with the 'correct' ones. Responding to comments and private emails suggesting a continuation of this tale I had a few hours and here it is. The usual caveats apply: precise language is the norm, lots of psychology, no exciting sex scenes and I don't read correspondence from Anons. Read the story at your risk or choose someone else's submission. One needs to review or re-read or read the first time my first volume of this story for the story below to make sense. Hope you enjoy this submission and thanks again to Literotica for the opportunity. I hope readers enjoy the finale of Caldwell family saga.
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Martin Caldwell was on Lufthansa flight 972 making his way across the Atlantic to DFW. The Stockholm trade show had been an unqualified success, as these things go, and made some sales calls afterward and booked several purchase orders. He smiled when he read a text from the CEO of his company - "you are in! The board voted 100 percent when the proposed VP of Sales vote came up. Congratulations."
But there was no jubilation in Martin's heart as he wiled away the hours over the water musing to himself, "My ex- wife, Helen, will meet me at DFW airport, and not Dimple, my take-me-to-heaven lover for the past 13 months. So, I grew to care too much for the 20-year-old Dimple to saddle her with a 56 YO man by asking her to extend our relationship - even though I loved her madly. But aging and thrill-seeking at the same time don't go well for the middle-aged. It was time to say 'good-bye' to my paid lover. Also, when Helen told me, 'I never got over you, Martin, in spite of what happened once I began having an affair. My youth is fleeting, and a new line appears on my face every day. I will make up for the pain I caused both of us if you will give me one more chance so we can become senior citizens together holding hands. Our two children and grandchildren will bring us much happiness together as well.'"
The steward served Martin a snack and chatted for a moment. Then the bone-tired traveler continued musing to himself, "Helen knows, now, that even though she still attracts the 20-something studs, experience has taught that fucking stud 'boys' is no more than a fleeting and cheap thrill. She even learned that all important lesson that sexual bliss is 99 percent in the brain - not the bed. That recent college graduate, who was a crackerjack real estate salesman, taught my ex-wife that lesson well. Helen, with her classically beautiful face, tells me that she now knows she shot herself in the foot by having an affair with him. But, seriously Martin, had she and I sat down and agreed on some mutual changes in our work days, would I have cut back on my hours - would she have? It seems Dimple for me and the salesman for her was a wake-up call for both of us. Our hard lesson of life learned is that an initially cheap thrill is never worth the final price."
After the landing approach to DFW announcement had come over the speaker, Martin continued his private soliloquy, "The hard question is, did I ever begin to really, really love my purchased lover, Dimple, for the past 13 months? No! But, why do I continue to ache for her intermittently? My rational thinking process tells me that she is gone forever so move on..., but there she is in my mind - youth, energy, focused, and two or three times quicker on the uptake of new complex information than me. And, Oh Mercy! Mercy! How passionate. Stop this, Martin," as the aircraft wheels smoothly made contact with the DFW runway.
After the frustrating experience in Immigration of having his samples and display panels examined by goons, who had no idea what they were examining, the control officer stamped his passport and screamed, "Next!"
The weary traveler staggered through the door into the public waiting room pulling his loaded luggage cart. There stood his lovely ex-wife smiling warmly, dressed to the nines, and more beautiful than he had remembered her in their 27 years of marriage.
!!
The day after Martin Caldwell landed in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area, Martin's son, Marcus (Mark) Caldwell, was also meeting an airplane. He paced the floor six hundred miles West of Dallas in the baggage claim of Midland Airport.
Glancing at the clock, Mark visualized Dimple Washington's face and Greek-statue body. Although Mark was now a seasoned and capable and well-paid salesman who radiated self-confidence when making sales and maintenance calls, he kept pestering himself with romantic questions? "Will Dimple and I learn to love each other? Will she find happiness with me? Does she ever miss my Dad after him being her sugar-daddy for 13 months? Does she constantly think about him - or does she think about me, since she pointedly asked to bunk with me? She will be treated and complemented like a virtual, 'Helen of Troy' in the oil field. Will she become attracted to the capable, fit, and horny men who will lust after her day in and day out in that environment? Should I be jealous?"
Later, her flight number began flashing and suddenly, Mark reverted to his 'old' self and started visualizing his Dad and Dimple fucking passionately. He jerked himself to attention and said, "No! Their relationship is a done deal - what they did was not unlike my fucking the dozen or so women in my environment since high school. Don't go there, Mark! Their relationship is over and play your cards right, and yours and Dimple's relationship is just starting. Oh to be in love with each other so that no more fucking around is necessary or even desired."
Dimple walked into baggage pickup area dressed for success. She spotted Mark and smiled broadly, and felt pride that the smile returned her was warm and genuine. The first thing Mark saw was her dazzling white teeth and short hair in a page boy cut as her picturesque smile seemed to light up the entire baggage claim area. Even with small boobs and a country-looking face, several eyes turned to study her perfect Greek-Statuesque body. Dimple was unusual in that she radiated good mental and physical health, that complemented her constant presence of mind. And did I say, she graduated after completing the toughest degree plan in Texas at just under 4.0.
She only proffered her hand and said, "Thank you for meeting me, Marcus."
He then hugged Dimple's neck and kissed her cheek family-style, careful not to press his body to hers. Looking directly into her eyes, he said, "Thank you, Dimple, for opting to bunk with me - and your standing here is proof that dreams do come true! My only goal now is to make you enjoy life with me for as long as you wish. In fact, your arrival has made today into the biggest social event of my life in the oil field, Ms. Washington."
The traveler thought, "Mark knows I hate lies and liars, and he wouldn't deliberately lie by overstating his excitement, so he is probably sincere. He has so far decided to stop squandering his youth and has already made a very BIG step in that direction in the past year. But, is his transformation completed?" She smiled warmly and replied, "Thank you, Marcus. While packing I had trepidation about renting a room from you, but based on its description and the good things your sister told me about the major re-hab you performed on yourself, I thought, 'why not?' Your father's being my former sugar-daddy was another factor that I questioned because I have no use for anyone who has thoughts of an incest connection and finds it exciting. That sort of thing is a complete turn-off for me. But, none of these fleeting observations and questions were deal-killers. Also, I have got to live somewhere, and I concluded,' Mark would be a good roommate.' Besides that, I can still kick your ass if you accost me. Ha ha. From then on I looked forward to our adventure which begins as of right now."
Noticing the star-struck look in his eyes, she squeezed the silent young man's bicep and continued, "Wow, you are doing some physical labor - is it all gym work or are is some of your firmness from your field job?"
He smiled, suddenly relaxed, and said, "About 50-50 - you know I didn't tell you at the company Christmas party, but the tailor took my Tux in an inch in the waist and let out an inch in the vest so I could button it. Yes, I handle heavy equipment and get my hands dirty working - and all the while my mind must remain focused for the type of analysis I must do - more on that later. I will explain the whole process in time so that when you are running Royal Dutch Shell, maybe you will give me a purchase order to equip ever pump-jack the company owns. Heh heh."
Dimple replied, "I like that attitude. You sound like your Mom - ever the salesman - and you are, so far, a dream-come-true to me, Mark. Would you help me get all my luggage and move into our new home?"
Architecturally the apartment complex itself was just a cookie-cutter, a semi-luxury type that is popular among professionals in energy towns - access to each unit was via an external steel mesh stairway. The furnished units had satisfactory furniture for Dimple - it wasn't the high-dollar pieces like those that decorated Mark's father's Condo, but it was functional and comfortable. Mark had opted to rent a three BR unit so that initially, visiting techs from his company could sleep there.
Later he was in the process of sizing down to a one-bedroom unit after the rollout of the new controller proved stable and dependable and sales were picking up.