Maybe Later
A tale of three fantasies:
- a rewarding life can be lived without a partner,
- a satisfying life can be lived without sex, and
- deserved rewards always await those who are patient.
Part 1, Louann
Linda called her sister, Louann, with a suggestion. "Brett's going to a business conference in San Jose next week. Why don't the two of you get together while he's there? You could show off your new home, show him the sights around Monterrey." Then after a second, she added with a giggle, "Consider him my birthday present to you."
Humph,
Louann thought, now a month later,
is she trying to get rid of him?
But she was indeed proud of her new home in Moss Landing. Barely three weeks earlier, she had selected this, her first real house (after a succession of apartments around LA, and most recently, a condo in Torrance) for its hillside location in the fir trees and in sight of the sea. Then, as fate would have it, she was laid off from her stress-filled job in Los Angeles. Though the initial panic had worn off, a couple days with her brother-in-law would provide a welcome relief from the pressure of finding a new employer.
Louann enjoyed a long and successful career in Los Angeles, far away from her sister in Connecticut. Hers was a challenging job, and she responded to the challenge with innovative hard work and imagination. Through much of her career, her achievements were rewarded with a progression of increasingly important leadership positions. But business conditions and changes in technology had slowed her advancement, and a new owner determined her function was no longer needed. Not needing any further hints, she quickly accepted a generous severance package.
By her mid-twenties Louann had slimmed down and was indeed a most attractive young woman. She drew the attention of many suitors, but none could measure up to her standards. Besides, her commitment to her career led her to frequent long days at work and little time for social amenities.
Now nearing fifty, she was pleased with her achievements and what she had accomplished thus far. She had managed, from time to time, to return to her Connecticut roots to visit Linda and Brett and their growing family, and Linda and Brett had named her the Godmother of their children. Well compensated during her career, she had been able to travel on several excursions to Europe to view and experience its wealth of art treasures.
Louann considered the many keepsakes of those trips which adorned her new home. With the strains of Beethoven's Sixth Symphony in the background, she took stock of her modest collection of treasures.
Romance, apart from the novels Louann devoured, had not really been a part of her life. There had been flings,
episodes,
she called them. A young tour guide, long ago, in Madrid had captured her imagination and perhaps more. She had delicious dreams about Antonio for many years afterwards.
Not so long ago, there was that time when Brett picked her up at the hospital after her 'lumpectomy.' There was a dream-like quality to that 'episode,' and now she wasn't sure it actually happened or if it was a delectable figment of her still active imagination. It was something she dearly wanted to talk with Brett about, but when the opportunity was there, she was unsure how to broach the subject.
After all, she thought, you don't just come out and ask,
Hey, where were your fingers that day?
She giggled at what she thought she remembered. But wistfully in her loneliness she realized that you can't hug a memory...
There was a time when she was proud still to be a virgin. Yes, perhaps she lost her claim that night in Madrid, but by now she had convinced herself it didn't really happen. Louann once took pride in "saving herself for her husband," as her mother had drilled into her head for as long as she could remember.
But nature, she told her sister one night in their weekly phone calls not too many months ago, appeared to have taken away any hopes of children. In her present loneliness Louann wondered if she even would ever know the excitement of torrid and passionate sex.
Quietly, nearly imperceptibly, she began to realize that now it was just her, the long-dead Herr Beethoven, and her many mute artifacts.
For the first time in her many years she felt lonely.
>>>>> 0 <<<<<
In the time since Linda's phone call, Louann had thought often about her sister. Louann and Linda had been close, barely a year apart in age, and there were few confidences they hadn't shared. As teens, Louann had listened late one night as Linda shared the exuberance of a budding relationship, her first, with the dashing young sailor from Groton, and the despair of their separation.
"His kisses are like fire," Linda had raved after her second date, "and his hands are all over my boobs! Don't tell Mom, but my panties are still wet in front."
Louann had listened eagerly, trying to imagine what her late-teen sister had felt. She had never been kissed in passion like that, though once a cousin had groped her boobs at a family party. Louann didn't think that was the kind of thing Linda was talking about.
Louann was there for the depths when Linda broke up with her sailor, too. "Oh Louann," Linda had wailed, "we were kissing and hugging, and he was touching my boobs and everything, and then he touched me
down there
!
"I told him, 'No, no, that's off limits! Stop, please!'"
"I could feel his
thing
against my tummy," she sobbed. "It was so scary. He was trying to pull off my panties. And he wouldn't stop!"
"Did he actually have his, you know,
thing
out? You could actually see it?" Louann asked, wide-eyed.
"No, I just could feel it through our clothes. It felt like it was really big."
Louann tried to imagine what something very big would feel like against her tummy. What she did feel was a very real warmth way down in her own tummy.
"Oh, Linda, that must have been awful," Louann cooed. At length, Linda's sobs subsided. "So, what happened? Did he stop? What did you do next?" Louann tried to sound soothing and caring, but she was eager to learn more.
"I told him a hundred times to stop, but he didn't, and the more he tried, the harder I fought! Finally I kneed him in the nuts," Linda reported.
"Oh, my God!" Louann exclaimed. "Did that stop him?"
"Oh yeah," Linda replied, almost smugly. "He lay there doubled up and groaning with his hands in his crotch for quite a while. I guess I got him pretty good. He called me a tease and a bitch, and he even used 'The F Word'!"
"No!" Louann was shocked. Neither girl had much to do with anyone who used The F Word. It was the ultimate blasphemy.
>>>>> 0 <<<<<
Louann was also there for her sister when Linda met and romanced Brett. Brett seemed to be all the things in a man that Louann had dreamed of as a child. Brett, with the flashing sense of humor and the dazzling smile, he was Brett, the actor; Brett, the adventurer and traveler; Brett, the unabashed flirt.
Not only that, but Brett's and Louann's birthdays were just days apart, a genuine big deal for the teenagers. Later they would joke that they were likely the result of their parents' Christmas presents to one another. However, Linda's boyfriend was also Brett the gentleman, Brett the sincere, Brett the committed. And for Louann, he was Brett the unattainable.
She listened eagerly each evening as Linda excitedly detailed romantic evenings with Brett. Louann was pleased for her little sister, and she tried to imagine what it might be like to be kissed with the ardor that Linda had described -- and with what passion she would return such a kiss.
One late night, Linda came to the bedroom they shared, starry-eyed from a date with Brett. "Oh, Louann," she gushed, "What a glorious evening we had!"
"Oh, hi Sis," Louann groggily replied. "Where did you go? What did you do?" She knew Linda would probably tell her anyway.
"You gotta
promise
not to tell
anybody
," Linda said, then without waiting for Louann's response, she continued, "but tonight Brett kissed my belly-button!"
Shocked now and suddenly fully awake, Louann blurted, "But how did he, um, get to your belly button? Where was your blouse?" she gasped.
