The Beginning of Stupid

A Study in Stupid--3

New Ways to be a Dumbass

"I don't want to see you any more. Please don't call."

The click of the receiver in my ear pretty well told me there wasn't any sense in carrying on a communication. I knew the score anyway, Ann just broke it off before anything happened. Not just the score, I knew all the statistics that went with it as well.

Ann, another of the women who'd taken my field trip to Amish country class through the university. That had been four months before. She'd had such a good time she'd signed up her parents, her brothers, her in-laws, their families and just about everybody she knew for trips since. All that and still found time to go out with me.

Three times out with me, even if I was thinking she was a little young at 24, me the old veteran of 34 at the time. Twice it was lunch out, the third time back at my place. Tuna sandwiches and making out on the couch just the day before this magical phone call. That's as far as it went though, I didn't even get to second base. That other statistic of the game came into play when I tried to get the top button open, the fact she had a husband. Maybe she hadn't been a good girl before she married Tom but she was now, that's all that mattered. Oh well, so it goes, at least for an hour.

It was that hour later when the phone rang, Ann's mother on the line. Very cool, very reserved, wondering if we might meet the next day to talk. Having no desire to be murdered without witnesses around, I suggested Wendy's for lunch. Fine, click and oh well all over again.

At least I wasn't wearing a bullet-proof vest when Marsha's mile-long Buick pulled into the Wendy's lot. I thought about it, at least until a burst of sunshine opened her car door and grinned at the sight of me. An angry mother doesn't come happy, nor does she look that good. It's been a sweatshirt and jeans when she took the field trip. Now it was sleeveless red blouse, black slacks and checkerboard shoes. Then there was that matter of a greeting.

We'd shaken hands at the end of the trip, nice and polite. She'd been polite on the phone but very cool. Now, in a Wendy's parking lot, she was hugging me and giving me a kiss. Something was telling me I'd never figure out women but I wasn't listening to that voice. I'd rather be listening to Marsha.

For an hour I was totally captivated, intrigued by a most fascinating beauty. I didn't want to talk about me, I wanted to hear about her, no matter how much she flattered. How much she almost flirted, not that I would admit that. She was so incredibly active, I didn't want to keep her from all the things she wanted to do. We would definitely have to do this again though, and soon. A fun hour, pleasant memories as I drove back to my place savoring a new friendship, pulled in the drive and realized a mile-long Buick was in my rear-view mirror.

Maybe I was all talked out was why nothing was said there in the drive. No words as we went up the steps and I unlocked the door. Not a sound in the entire universe but the opening of the door, Marsha stepping in, the door closing, locking and two bodies locked together.

For nearly twenty minutes the ultimate French kiss went on, neither one of us willing to break the moment. I'm a man though, though not that much of one. I can only take so much. I pressed my tongue deep into Marsha's mouth and moved my hands to unbutton her blouse. I'd tried it with her daughter and got shut down. I expected shut down even as the first button opened. The second. Third. Fourth and I pulled the fabric back. I glanced down and got even harder. The black push up bra was almost as erotic as she was.

"Old ladies need help," she whispered, our lips finally separated. "Been a long time. Gravity is an evil force to 34D's, baby boy."

"We'd better free them from their captivity."

I've got no idea where that came from but she seemed to like the concept. Two hooks undone, the shirt fell off, bra went with it and I was on my knees. God, she was magnificent, big pink nipples so hard and so begging to feed me I just couldn't resist an old lady's sweetness.

"Not here, babe," Marsha gasped, her hands on my shoulders to steady herself as I mouthed each beautiful breast. "Don't upright me first time. Bed, baby. Love me in bed, please."

She didn't need to worry about upright, I was still clueless on that at the time. I didn't need to worry about anything, a willing woman asking to go to bed, Paradise for at least the next few hours. Linda had popped my cherry, Deb had blown me silly but this magnificent Marsha was about to make me a man.

Once again I knew the score this time too. She's married, she's fifteen years old than I was and I was as hard as I was ever going to be. Most of all she was letting me, letting me take her to the bedroom, letting me lay her on the bed, letting me strip her to nothing, letting me get naked and letting me back to mouth her breasts. Letting me go all the way into absolute bliss. So this was what pussy was supposed to be like..

On and on I pushed into that velvet wetness, Marsha moaning in pure joy and actually singing my praises as a man. Coming all over me as my chest crushed her breasts, pounding away in total happiness. Feeling that glorious climax explode in her, listening to her growls of lust pleasure and knowing she was more than willing to take me on again. Take me on four times in a single afternoon. Me, getting four and about to get it all.

For one solid month I had no life other than to stand at stud for Marsha. It had been a long time, seven years since husband made her feel pretty. Longer since she'd been with this much man, a sure way to keep me coming. We banged in my bed and on my living room floor. Her guest bed and then into the master bedroom. Across her kitchen table and she taught me upright in the laundry room. Thirty straight days of pure missionary sex, even including a couple of late night wham bams when she was headed home from meetings at church. Thirty beautiful days and then the phone rang.

"I don't want to see you any more. Please don't call."

The receiver clicked and one more time I suddenly knew the score. More than I'd ever know before. I dialed her back, waited for Marsha to answer and told her I'd be there in twenty minutes.

Marsha swung the front door open slowly, standing there in her terrycloth robe. I nodded at her saying she had an appointment in an hour she couldn't miss. She had to dress. I nodded again and stepped inside, closing the door behind me. We had something we had to confirm first before she took care of business.

I could read her every emotion as she looked up at me and knew I'd been right in what I suspected. With one motion I ripped her robe down to the tie at her waist, her breasts heaving once, the nipples hardening. I caught her around the neck and walked her down the hall to the master bedroom. I pressed Marsha on the covers, tore the robe off completely and then ripped open my shirt and pants. I was not going to be denied.

My mouth covered hers, Marsha locking into an embrace as her kisses covered my throat. I moved down, hungrily mouthing each breast as she moaned. I caught her scent, quickly mounted her and slid in, our bodies tight against each other. Marsha's legs wrapped around me and she shuddered as the orgasms poured out of her soul. She came all over me, moaning words of love and devotion until I finally went rigid and poured my lust back into her.

I collapsed and rolled off the beauty, Marsha clinging to me, her hands running over my chest as I caught my breath. She moved in close and whispered, "How did you know?"

"That you're pregnant?"

She nodded, fought a tear and said, "You know I have to abort. That's where I'm going. He'd never believe it's his, you know that."

I nodded, actually approving of her discretion.

"You can't come back, you know that too. Babe, I can't resist you. Don't tempt."

I nodded but I was lying. I knew I'd be back some day. A woman who said I was good, I was great, wasn't getting away but that was years in the future it turned out. At that moment, all that mattered was the moment.

I got somebody pregnant, thinking with my penis, my unwrapped penis, and I'd knocked one up. Dumb, irresponsible and it felt pretty good, especially as she let me pay for the mistake. That was only fair. I'd have to be careful though, getting married out of necessity was still going on in those days and I wasn't into that. I'd have to be really careful if this ever happened again.

Not that it would, not for a dumbass like me. I'd just been lucky, I knew that as I drove home that day. Crap like this never going to happen again and I believed it. For about two weeks. How little I knew I was about to find out even a dumbass can get a lot more than he bargained for, but Holly is a story for another time.