ROAD TO REDEMPTION
Part Two of Two
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REDEMPTION
Author’s note: I previously submitted and published this story in a different category by mistake, and it is resubmitted here under ‘Romance’ as it should have been.
I. HOW BIG IS YOUR DAD?
The next morning, I was awakened by the smell of bacon frying and the soulful voice of Etta James. I looked at my bedside clock. It was already nine-thirty. I quickly roused up and slipped on a t-shirt to go with my sleeping shorts and peeked in the kitchen.
Celia was busy making breakfast and was wearing one of the bathrobes I kept for company. Her long hair was gathered up in a towel on her head in a manner that all women have apparently mastered, and which seems to defy gravity.
I cleared my throat and Celia turned, “Good morning sleepyhead. I was about to come wake you. I hope this is okay. I was hungry and couldn’t wait any longer. Oh, and I borrowed your washer, which stopped a minute ago. Be a doll and put my clothes in the dryer.”
“Sure. Um, do I have time for a quick shower?”
“If you make it fast. Breakfast will be ready in about 15 minutes.”
“I can shower, dress and mow the lawn in 15 minutes.”
I beat it down the hall to the laundry room and put her clothes in the dryer, then hit the shower. When I made it back to the kitchen, she was putting breakfast on the table – toast, eggs, bacon, fried apples and coffee.
“I couldn’t find any potatoes, so I hope this is okay, and I hope you like fried apples. I love them and saw you had some apples, so…”
“Love ’em, too, and I guess I missed buying potatoes. You really didn’t have to go to this trouble, but I’m glad you did. I’m starving.”
“Oh, you’ll have to excuse me,” she said, “I didn’t bring any make-up with me, so you get me au naturelle.”
“You look better au naturelle than most women do after two hours in front of a mirror,” I said sincerely.
“You’re sweet, and right back at ya,” she joked.
“Yeah, well no amount of make-up can improve this mug,” I replied.
“You are always putting yourself down, Nick. Why do you do that?”
“I’m just a self-deprecating kind of guy. What can I say?”
“Well, deprecate yourself down in a chair and let’s eat.”
After breakfast, Celia said she wanted to go home and change, then if I didn’t have anything planned, she would like to show me her shop. Oh boy, women’s clothes – how could I refuse.
We drove to Celia’s home; well, she drove, in my car. I had a feeling if we ended up together, I would never get to drive it again. We arrived at one of the newer gated developments on the edge of the city, and her home was a very nice, Victorian-style, two-story, with immaculate grounds. After she changed, we headed to old town.
Celia’s boutique was in an exclusive area of high-end shops in a revitalized section, surrounded by other shops aimed specifically at SRW’s (Silly Rich Women). I couldn’t imagine what her lease cost, and didn’t ask; but after looking at the name brands and price tags of her merchandise, I surmised that was not an issue. The shop was extremely well laid out, merchandise precisely and effectively displayed, with a natural traffic flow that optimized the opportunities to sell the most product. Her staff was professional and obviously selected for their abilities to charm and attend to the SRW’s, of which there were several at the moment. I was impressed and told her so.
After the tour, we went to a posh coffee shop and had a delicious, if expensive lunch. Celia sprung the question. No, not that one.
“Nick, my mom and dad would like to meet you. I’ve told them about you, and my dad, especially, is eager to meet you. No pressure, and I want you to know, they both gave me a very positive vibe. Are you up for that?”
“Sure. I’m used to being thrown out of girlfriends’ parents’ homes, so I can handle it.”
She laughed, “You’re terrible…and do you realize you called me your girlfriend, if indirectly.”
“I didn’t mean…”
“Nick, it’s okay. I liked the sound of it. I don’t think we have to be coy at this point. We are dating, and we do like each other.”
“Celia, I’m flattered that you would think of me as your boyfriend; and honestly, I look forward to meeting your parents. We haven’t talked much about your mom yet, but I’m very interested in meeting them both, but especially your dad. He sounds like a pretty amazing man…and I want to tell him man to man, to keep his damn hands off my car.”
She cackled, “That may not be such a good idea. I haven’t told you how big my dad is, and I guarantee you he won’t go down as easy as my no-account ex did.”
“Hey, between you and me, I got lucky with your ex. If he’d got the first punch in, it would have probably turned out very different…Just how big is your dad, and how does he feel about a short, semi-couth, semi-educated, pasty-white guy dating his daughter?”
“Stop it,” she replied, “you’re not short, you’re at least three-quarters couth, you’re much smarter than you let on, and my dad is not remotely racist; and I dated a white guy before I got tangled up with Tom; and David, they actually liked.”
“So, what happened to ‘David’? You haven’t included him in your bio, yet.”
“David was my first love. We met my freshman year in college. He was a terrific guy, but long story short, his parents ‘were’ racists, sooo, that didn’t go well.”
“Sorry to hear that. But now that I think about it, I’m glad it didn’t work out; or I wouldn’t be sitting here with you right now.”
“Thank you, Nick. That’s the nicest compliment. And I am looking forward to you meeting my parents. And speaking of not being in the bio, you still haven’t said anything about your parents.”
“Um, they’re not really in the picture,” I replied evasively, then asked, “When did you want to get together?”
Celia looked at me, hesitated, then diplomatically moved on, “Well, I’ll be out of town for two weeks on a buying trip, and was hopeful we could do it as soon as I return. With your work schedule, I figured Saturday, two weeks from today.”
“That’ll work, and I am looking forward to it…So, just how big is your dad?”
She laughed again, “You’ll find out.”
We called it an afternoon and she went to prepare for her trip. I called it a day and returned home to go over some construction plans and prepare for the week.
When I got home, I went into the study and diligently set about reviewing plans. That lasted about 15 minutes. My conscience was nagging at me, interrupting my concentration. “Shelley, what about Shelley? What are you going to do about Shelley, you low-life, piece of crap?”
Damn. Nothing’s ever easy or simple. So, I did nothing and put it off. I still had another weekend while Celia was out of town, and I really did need to work on those jobs before Monday.
II. THE SHELLEY SITUATION
The week was a blur, and I did everything but deal with Shelley. Saturday, there was a break in the weather. It was a sunny day, so I busied myself in the yard. Around two in the afternoon, I starved out and went in the house to make a snack. I thought of Shelley. I’d said I would call her. Crap. The way things were going with Celia, I was wishing I’d never got tangled up with Shelley. But I had, and it wouldn’t be right to leave her hanging. She was a sweet lady.
I picked up my cell and called.
“Hi, Nick. I’m so glad you called. How are you? Still real busy?”
“Yeah, they’re working me like a dog. I’m fine, though, and just wanted to touch base with you. I think we should get together and…”
“I’d love to, Nick. Whenever works for you.”
I was going to say, “we need to talk,” but I didn’t get that out fast enough. I knew what she was expecting and I knew what we would do if we got together, but I had to deal with this one way or the other.
“I’m free later this evening, or tomorrow, anytime,” I replied.
“I could make you dinner. I have everything to make spaghetti.”
I should have said tomorrow. I wasn’t ready to deal with this, but spaghetti sounded awfully good, “Great, what time should I come?”
“The sauce needs to simmer at least two hours, and it will take me…” she paused, then finished, “Is 7:30 too late? I can have everything ready by then.”
“Let’s make it eight o’clock, then you don’t have to rush and I can finish my chores and get ready.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you at eight.”
After hanging up, I was feeling apprehensive about the evening. I didn’t want to lead Shelley on. I had to break it to her that I couldn’t see her anymore. But I didn’t want to hurt her, either. I know she said “no strings,” but I don’t think she foresaw me kicking her to the curb so soon. Shit, this was going to suck.
Man up, you little weasel.
After a sandwich, I returned to my yard work and mulled over how I was going to deal with Shelley. Six o’clock came too soon, and I had to get ready. I wasn’t feeling any better about it now than I did earlier, and I didn’t know how I was going to handle it.
As it turned out, I handled it just about as poorly as I could have.
I arrived at Shelley’s house about ten minutes early but didn’t pull in, and just kept driving. I was still rehearsing how I was going to do this. Every possible scenario I came up with had one of two outcomes – either I made a clean break and hurt Shelley badly, or I let her down easy, slept with her, and still hurt her badly; and in the process, proved what a man-whore I am by cheating on Celia before I even got out of the gate. I pulled in her drive at ten after, still with no POA (plan of action).
“Hi Nick, come on in, everything is ready,” Shelley greeted me from the front porch as soon as I exited the car. She had obviously been watching for me.
As soon as I entered the house, my mouth started watering. It smelled like an Italian kitchen – fabulous. She made a baked spaghetti casserole that was even better than her stew, and she served a decent Lambrusco Grasparossa with it. Afterwards, she served a scratch-made lemon ricotta cake that was heavenly and the perfect dessert to complement our meal. During dinner, we engaged in small talk, discussing my work and what she had been up to. I can’t tell you how much I was dreading after dinner. Fortunately, she had plenty of Lambrusco on hand, and I needed the fortifying effect of the alcohol. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.
Before I could get into what I didn’t want to talk about, but had to, Shelley informed me that she purchased something she wanted to show me. She headed upstairs and I emptied the remaining contents of the second bottle of wine into my glass and slugged it down.
Shelley came into the living room wearing a sheer negligee that did nothing to hide her voluptuous body. She was blushing down to her decolletage, and was obviously feeling uncomfortable, but had chosen to make, what was for her, a bold move.
What could I do, but compliment her and respond appropriately – as in get an erection, forget about my speech and bed her, immediately. Pathetic!
“I hope you like it. I debated on wearing it, and chickened out several times before deciding I was being silly…”
“Shelley, you look stunning, sexy as hell,” I exclaimed as I rose off the couch and embraced her.
She melted into me and began kissing me before I could say anything else. I could feel the heat emanating off her body. I hugged her to me, enjoying the feel of her, the scent of her, and the passion with which she was kissing me.
It was hopeless.
Shelley snaked a hand down and rubbed my erection through my pants and murmured, “Take me.”
We separated and walked hand in hand up the stairs. I was in high heat, anxious to bed this lovely creature; and at the same time, my emotions were all over the place. Of course, the little head was in control and any protests coming from the big head were summarily overruled.
Unlike our first time, Shelley wasn’t timid at all. As soon as we entered the bedroom, she started unbuttoning my shirt, undoing my belt and pretty insistently stripping me. I resisted in every way I could manage, which is to say, not at all. When she got to my boxers, she dropped to her knees, pulled them down, and grasped my burgeoning erection. She looked at it, looked up at me, then back at my erection.
“I’ve never done this, so you have to tell me if I’m doing it right.” With that she proceeded to slip the head of my cock in her mouth. She took it in until it hit the back of her throat and promptly gagged.
“You don’t have to do that. It’s not how far you take it in but how you work it. Suck gently and move it in and out slowly, keeping your teeth from scraping it. Use your lips and tongue to work it,” I instructed.
Hey, I’m no expert at cocksucking, but I know what feels good.
She proved to be a quick learner, and after a minute, her ministrations had the desired effect – I was rock hard. I lifted her up and kissed her then moved her to the bed.
“That was lovely, Shelley, but now I want to make love to you.”
“Would you like to do anything different, this time?” she asked shyly. “I’m open to whatever you want. I haven’t had a lot of experience with different things.”
“Sure. I have a position I think you will enjoy. Lie down on your back with your legs straight but parted slightly.” She complied, and I straddled her legs and wet two fingers to moisten her vagina. I needn’t have bothered. She was already very moist. I levered my cock down to enter her, then pushed into her snug, warm vaginal tunnel until I was all the way in. I rocked forward till the shaft of my cock was pressed against her clit, then instructed her to squeeze her legs together. I started stroking slowly and Shelley reacted immediately.
“Oh gosh, that feels so good.”
“Play with your breasts; wet your fingers and play with your nipples.”
“Oh, oh, you can go faster…Oh, yes! Yes, that, oh is, ungh, going to…make me cum.”
I started stroking with fast controlled thrusts, relishing the feel of her hot, slippery tunnel. She was now squeezing, rolling and pinching her fat nipples and nodding her head as she approached her climax. I leaned forward over her so I could ratchet my hips faster.
“Oh, oh, oh, fuck, Nick! Oh, yes, fuck me, make me cum, baby…”
She released her breasts and grabbed my back, curling up till her breasts pressed into my chest, and hungrily attacked my mouth. Then she dropped back on the bed and started shuddering as her climax surged through her.
“OH, NOW, CUMMING!”
That was all I could take, and I unloaded, cumming hard, thrusting rapid-fire, my own orgasm blasting through me. When I stopped thrusting, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me down, kissing me with urgency and intensity. It was all I could do to breathe, trying to recover from the exertion.
When she broke the kiss, she grinned, “I like that position!”
I slowly pulled out and rolled onto my back, continuing to catch my breath.
She rolled on her side, and asked, “Are there any other positions you want to show me?”
“You’ll have to give me some time to recover. I’m not 18 anymore,” I joked.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Ice water would be nice.”
Shelley got up, and naked, walked out of the bedroom, her big, firm ass gyrating. She was quickly losing her shyness. I admired her ass as she walked away.
From the hall I heard, “Oh crap!” and she came back into the bedroom, headed to the bathroom with a hand between her legs.
“You must have cum a lot,” she laughed as she made a beeline for the toilet.
“I’ll get the water,” I volunteered.
After refreshing ourselves and some pillow talk, we began taking turns orally stimulating each other until I was game for another round. We made love in as many positions as I could manage before I had no game left.
Afterwards, we showered and dressed, then headed downstairs. I asked if she had any more wine and told her we needed to talk. Thankfully, she had plenty of wine, just not enough to make this easy. I hadn’t felt this shitty in a long time.
We went out on the back patio to cool off and enjoy the night air. Once we were settled, I found my voice and my balls, and did what I came to do.
“Shelley, I have to tell you something I don’t want to tell you and I don’t know how to…”
“Nick, it’s okay. You can’t see me again, can you?”
I was floored.
“Shelley, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but that person I was telling you about, well it’s the woman from that night. And we’ve gotten very close. And I can’t in good conscience continue to…”
“Nick, I understand. I meant it when I said no strings. I want to thank you for your kindness and for a wonderful time. I know now what lovemaking can be like, and I hope I find someone else…like you. And I know if I do, I’ll have the confidence to…make the best of it.”
“Shelley, you are making this way too easy on me, and taking it too well. I can’t tell you how much I was dreading this. I’ve come to care for you very much, and I didn’t want to hurt you, but I just couldn’t continue…”
“Nick, you’re a good man. I appreciate your honesty, and your lady friend is a lucky woman.”
“Thank you, Shelley. And I think that any man who is fortunate enough to end up with you is a damn, lucky bastard. I really do wish you the very best. And, you are a wonderful person and a wonderful lover.
“But…?”
“In all fairness, I did begin a relationship with her first, but I didn’t know it was going to go anywhere when I met you and we got together. But I hoped it was, and then it was too late. I had messed up and got together with you when I shouldn’t have, convincing myself it was no big deal. But you turned out to be sweet and so much more than I expected. But in my heart, I was already committed to Celia, I just kind of denied it, which led to this situation. That’s the ‘but’ and I’m at fault for it.”
“Nick, I’m a big girl. Honest. I’ll miss you, but I don’t regret what we did, what we had. Have another glass of wine with me, then kiss me goodnight.”
We sat and talked and had two more glasses of wine. She walked me to my car and I kissed her and held her.
“Nick, if things don’t work out…”
“I’ll be on your doorstep in a heartbeat; that is, if someone hasn’t snatched you up, already.”
She smiled and kissed me on the cheek.
I got in my car and very carefully drove home. Truth of the matter, I had no business behind the wheel. When I arrived home, I went in, uncorked a bottle of Beaujolais and proceeded to finish getting plastered so I would feel as shitty physically as I did emotionally.
III. TRUTH AND CONSEQUENCES.
All week, I mulled over what I had done with Shelley and to Shelley, but more importantly, what I had done to Celia. And I kept asking myself, “Do I confess or never mention it?” Saturday was going to come way too soon. But I didn’t get to wait for Saturday. Celia called me Friday morning and asked me to pick her up at the airport at nine that night if I could.
When she cleared security, I was waiting, and I have to tell you, she was more beautiful than my memory of her. And all that did was remind me of what a shit heel I was for basically cheating on this beautiful woman. At that moment, I knew I had to tell her – when, was the question.
She greeted me with a big hug and a kiss, and it felt natural and wonderful.
“Good to be back,” she said breathily, when she broke the kiss.
“Good to have you back.”
“Thanks for picking me up. I could have called my dad, but I wanted to see you right away.”
“I’m glad you did. I have to shag the car and I’ll pick you up out front,” I explained.
“I’ll walk with you. We can catch up. Oh, and I’m starving. The airplane food was typically unfulfilling.”
“There’s a diner fairly convenient to your place that we can hit on the way,” I offered as I pulled her luggage in tow.
“Let’s go to your place. I have a surprise I want to show you.”
“Then, we can hit Lance’s. It’s open late.”
“Sounds good.”
As we walked to the car, she told me about her buying trip. She was pretty excited with the results. She had been on an all-Italy trip, hitting Milan, Florence/Prato, Genoa and Vicenza, among others, and it had gone well.
After dinner, and more chatting about her trip, we drove to my place and pulled in the drive. I asked if she needed to take anything in, remembering she wanted to show me something.
“If you would, just the small suitcase and the overnight case.”
We went in and I offered drinks.
“I’d love a glass of wine, if you have any.”
“I stocked up. I have a couple Beaujolais’, a…”
“Beaujolais is perfect.”
“Coming up.”
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” she informed me as she grabbed her small suitcase and headed down the hall.
I poured the wine and went to the divan in the living room. I sat and waited several minutes.
Celia called to me from the hallway, “Close your eyes and no peaking.”
“Eyes closed,” I replied, wondering what she wanted to show me.
“Okay, you can open them,” she said.
I did. I almost spilled my wine.
Celia had on a dusty, pale-blue negligee outfit with a sheer robe that draped almost to the floor. The negligee itself just came to the top of the thighs and her long, tawny legs were on display. The gauzy material was see-through and I could make out her dark aureoles, pert nipples and the shape and curve of her breasts.
I couldn’t find my voice, but I found my feet. I stood and closed the distance between us.
“You like? I got it in Milan.”
“You look amazing, beautiful, stunning,” I replied, all the while thinking about the similar situation with Shelley.
“Exactly what I was aiming for,” she said in a sweet, sultry voice, and wrapped her arms around me and pulled me to her.
I kissed her with all the passion I could muster, and felt her warm, firm body through the sheer material, running my hands up and down her long, sleek back. She pulled me to her tightly, pressing a thigh between my legs, intentionally feeling my hardening cock with her leg.
She spoke in my ear in a husky voice, “I’ve been thinking about us since I’ve been away, and I think I’m ready for this. How about you?”
I almost said yes, but caught myself.
“We have to talk first,” I said, still holding her tight.
She pulled her head back, looking me in the eyes, “Is something wrong?”
“I hope not, but I have to tell you something first. Let’s sit. And I need a drink.” I guided us to the couch and sat us down, then picked up a glass of wine and handed her one. She had a questioning look on her face. My stomach was in knots, and for a moment, I almost chickened out. After all, she was going to take me to bed; but after she heard what I had to say, not only would that not happen, I might lose her altogether.
I emptied my glass and poured another. Then I told her about Shelley, from beginning to end, including about my last night with her. She listened without interrupting, without comment, without changing her expression. When I finished, she took a drink of her wine, set the glass down, took my hands in hers, and looked me in the eyes.
“Nick…I…I can’t say I’m not upset. I am. But I appreciate you telling me about her. I know you could have chosen to say nothing, and I would have never known. I even wish…you hadn’t…in a way…but I’m glad you did, that you were honest with me. I know you said you didn’t have feelings for Shelley, other than caring for her, but what I need to know is how you feel about me? And I need you to be just as honest.”
“Celia, I believe that meeting you was destiny. I believe I was there that night in the bar for a reason, aside from coming to your aid. I believe I was there at that moment for me; that I was meant to meet you; that with you, I had an opportunity, perhaps my last one, to finally find someone I could share my life with, someone that would give me an opportunity to redeem myself. And I know that I made a mistake right out of the gate. But I hope you won’t give up on me. You matter too much to me, and nothing or nobody has mattered to me for a long time. I want a chance to prove myself to you, to earn your trust and to show you I can be for you what you are for me.”
She squeezed my hands, hard, looking down at them, then looked back up. She had tears on her cheeks. I felt worse than I had since Andrea, and sick to my stomach. I knew I had just lost my best chance at happiness, again.
“I’ll take you home,” I said.
“No, it’s late. I’m tired. If it’s okay, I’ll use your guest room. I just want to go lie down.”
We stood and she walked away. I just stood there, watching her beautiful body as she left. My heart sank. I picked up our glasses and walked to the kitchen. I pulled out a bottle of tequila, grabbed a glass, and headed to the patio. It was cool out and there was a breeze, making it chilly, but I didn’t care. I sat and poured a stiff shot and knocked it down, then another, and sat and thought. The more I thought, the more I realized I should have listened to my own instincts and not gotten involved with Shelley. But I couldn’t undo what I had done.
Sometime around two in the morning, I realized I was out of tequila and had finished off half a bottle. I headed in and hit the shower. I stood and let the hot water run over me, taking off the chill and sobering me up a little. How was I going to face Celia in the morning? I was dreading that.
I couldn’t get to sleep, but at some point, in the early hours of the morning, I dozed off. I awoke to light coming in through the window and sounds drifting in through the crack in my door. Groggy, I reached for my 9 mil before remembering Celia was here. I quickly threw on a pair of pants and headed down the hall. Celia was in the kitchen, pulling out dishes and cookware. She was wearing a simple nightgown. My heart almost stopped at the sight of her. I had hurt this beautiful, amazing woman. But she was obviously making breakfast. I didn’t understand that.
I cleared my throat, “Um, good morning.”
“Oh, good morning. I was hungry and thought you might be.”
“Uh, sure. Celia…”
“Yes?”
“I’m just a little surprised to see you making breakfast. I thought I would just be taking you home this morning.”
“I figured we could eat and then leave from here. We’re meeting my parents for lunch, or did you forget?”
“No, I didn’t forget. I just figured that was off. I…”
She set the dishes down she was working with and came over to me.
“Nick, I had a lot of time to think last night. And I can tell you, it was a long night. I didn’t sleep much. But I did come to a decision…I think we should…I should try to get past this…see if I can get past it. I didn’t say it last night; I was too upset; but Nick, I also feel like we were meant to meet. In general, I don’t believe in destiny, but I do believe that life presents us with opportunities, but it’s up to us to recognize them and act on them. I once told you I wanted to see where this relationship could go. I still do. I don’t want to throw that away. And I want you to meet my parents, if you’re still willing.”
“Of course.”
“Then, let’s have breakfast. We can talk about this another time. For now, I just need time to work through it. I can’t promise anything, but…Nick, I had my heart broken before, and I know you have too, but I don’t want to have that happen again. I want to give us a chance.”
“Celia, I want that more than anything. I cannot possibly express how much I want that. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I got involved with Shelley…”
“Nick, Let’s just have an enjoyable breakfast. You have French bread and I thought I would make French toast.”
“I love French toast. Would you like some bacon or sausage with it?” I asked.
“Bacon sounds good.”
I got busy with the bacon and Celia began preparing the toast. As we worked together in the kitchen, it felt natural, and like nothing bad had happened between us. But that wasn’t the case. However, I felt some of the darkness lift from me as we worked. There was still hope.
We prepared breakfast in silence and ate in silence, then cleaned up, together. I had poured orange juice, and following Celia’s lead, we took the pitcher and glasses of ice to the living room and sat. I went to my chair and she sat on the divan.
She crossed her legs when she sat, and I noticed her feet for the first time. She had small feet for a tall woman, and perfectly formed. And not to belabor the point, but everything about this woman was perfect.
And I still had a problem with that. I used to have great self-confidence, and honestly, was a little egotistical, but my failure as a husband, divorce, and losing my business had gone a long way to eroding that self-confidence, and my ego was not what it once was. I questioned whether I was worthy of this woman, worthy of her love. But of course, we also had to deal with my mistake before any other questions mattered.
Celia sat and sipped her orange juice and looked around the living room. I mostly sat and looked at my feet, which were also bare, and not so pretty, and certainly not small and perfectly shaped. My size 12’s are nothing to look at.
“Nick, you said you could see spending your life with me, but I need to know that nothing like Shelley will happen again.”
“Okay…Well, first of all, I didn’t want to sleep with Shelley that last time. I didn’t. I knew I probably would. I didn’t know how I could avoid it when I went to break things off with her, not without seeming like a real cad. But at the same time, I knew if I slept with her, I was being a real cad. And, honestly, it’s not an excuse, but I really was trying not to hurt Shelley’s feelings. I gathered that her husband divorced her. She is a sweet woman who has been through her own bad situation. I didn’t want to add to that. That said, I wished I hadn’t. But I can’t wish it away.”
“No, I understand that, and I understand what happened. I do,” she replied.
I continued, “You know, I’ve been feeling like I wasn’t worthy of you, and that may have had something to do with why I…did what I did with Shelley, because I doubted that you could possibly see me as someone you really wanted to be with. But I was wrong. And I believe I am worthy of you, and I want the chance to prove that.”
I sat my glass down, stood and walked around the coffee table to Celia; took the glass from her hand, sat it on the table and pulled her to her feet. I pulled her to me and kissed her. She melted into me, and kissed me in a warm, deeply emotional way that she hadn’t before.
IV. MOM AND DAD
We drove to her parents’ home in the country. It was an estate with stately elms lining the long drive up to the large Colonial-style house. When we arrived, her parents came out to meet us, her father in front. That was my first surprise. He was about my size, maybe an inch taller, and a little beefier, but no more than 210. I looked at Celia; she just grinned. My second surprise was her mother. She was almost a carbon copy of Celia, except lighter-skinned. She hardly looked older.
We exited the car and met them at the base of the steps. Celia introduced us.
“Mom, Dad, this is Nicholas. Nick, this is my mother, Gabriela, and my father, Louis.”
“Pleased to meet you, Gabriela, Louis,” I said offering my hand to her mother first.
“So nice to meet you, Nicholas,” she replied.
“Nick, please. Sir, pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Same here, Nick. I’m glad to meet you, and I’ve heard a lot about you. Come in, come in. Lunch is almost ready,” he said as he turned to hug his daughter.
We went in and entered the kitchen and went to a bay nook with a four-seat table.
Gabriela explained, “I hope you don’t mind. We usually eat in here. The dining room is so big and formal. We find this cozier.”
“I think it’s great, and it puts us closer to that great-smelling food,” I answered.
Louis laughed, “A man after my own heart. You know, I married Gabriela because she’s the only one I ever met that I thought was a better cook than me!”
“Oh, he’s full of beans. Nobody is better in the kitchen than Lou. And you always told me it was because I was so pretty,” she said, smacking Louis on the arm.
“Well, that had a little to do with it, too,” he laughed his hearty laugh again.
Gabriela turned to me, “Have a seat, Nick. I hope you like paella. I’m sorry, you may not know what paella is…”
“It’s a Spanish rice dish, usually made with chicken, or with shrimp and chicken, but I’ve had it with chorizo, also. And I love paella.”
“I’m impressed, Nick,” Gabriela remarked
“He does that a lot, Mom,” Celia said, grinning.
“Yes, Celia said you continue to surprise her. How do you know about paella?”
“Between semesters in college, I vacationed in Spain and Portugal, and was fortunate enough to spend a week with a Spanish family who did their best to fatten me up while I was there.”
“Wonderful. I’m from Spain. I was raised in Valencia, which is where paella comes from.”
“Enough talk, let’s eat,” Louis playfully groused.
The paella was fabulous, better than what I remembered having in Spain. We chatted as we ate and I learned that Gabriela had come to America with her parents when she was 15 and that she and Louis met when they were both working at a restaurant in Chicago, both helping to support their families, which were large and struggling to make ends meet. So, they were a true “rags-to-riches” story, but completely unpretentious. I liked them, immediately.
After lunch, Louis wanted to see my car.
“That’s a gem, son. Is that phantom blue?”
“Yes sir. It was a red metallic color when I acquired it, but I wanted it in an original color and I like the blues.”
He quickly responded, “I like the blues, too.”
I laughed, “Well, yes, those too. I am especially fond of the blues.”
“Really? Who are your favorites?”
“Hmm, I guess the top of my list would include Etta James, B.B. King, Janis Joplin and Ray Charles, but there are several more I like.”
“Good choices. Hey, how would you like to see some of my cars?”
“Love too, Sir.”
“Lou, please.”
“Certainly, Lou.”
I won’t bore you with the list, but he had 10 magnificent specimens in a large garage and told me he had a warehouse with another 12. My favorite of the ones I saw was a 1939 Packard 120 Touring Sedan – not the most prized of the Packard collectibles, but this one was restored immaculately and was absolutely beautiful.
After the tour, he invited me to the back veranda for a glass of Courvoisier. We sat and talked cars, construction and the ‘restaurateur racket’ as he called it. In the middle of it he surprised me.
“Nick, what are your intentions with Celia?”
Caught off guard, I took a few seconds to respond, “Well, Sir, Lou, I intend to do everything I can to make Celia as happy as she has made me, whatever that may be, whatever that may take.”
“Okay, I can accept that. You understand, I had to ask. Celia’s been through a lot. I don’t want to see that happen again. But enough about that. I want to talk to you about something else. I bought some property outside Missoula, Montana to build a vacation home on, possibly as a retirement home. I would be interested in hiring you as a consultant on the plans and construction, in a way that wouldn’t interfere with your present employment. Would you be interested?”
“Certainly, but you wouldn’t have to hire me. I would be happy to do it, say, as a favor…”
“No, no. I gather you are quite the expert and you deserve to get paid for your expertise, okay?”
“Very well. I’d love to.”
“Good, settled. Another brandy?”
“I could stand one more.”
“Good man.”
It was easy to like Louis. But you could see in his mannerisms and in his eyes, that when it came to business or serious matters, he was probably a formidable force; one more reason for me not to disappoint Celia.
The ladies joined us shortly. The weather was reasonably warm this afternoon, and Gabriela brought out iced tea. We sat and talked for a couple hours. Gabriela was warm and engaging, witty and sweet. I could see a lot of Gabriela in Celia, not only in appearance, but in her sincere, soulful manner. It was truly the best afternoon I’d had in a long time. Kind of felt like home – a home I’d never actually had.
After saying our goodbyes, we headed out. I started to exit the interstate to take Celia home, but she said she needed to return to my place, that she’d left her things there.
V. UNFINISHED BUSINESS
When we got to my house, Celia asked if I could make margaritas and said she had to use the bathroom. I got busy mixing. It was late afternoon but still warm, so I decided to move us to the patio. I called to Celia and informed her.
“Umm, okay,” she answered, sounding a little hesitant.
“Is that alright?”
“Sure, it’s fine, Nick.”
I was sitting looking out on the backyard, when I heard Celia in the living room. I’d left the door open for her.
“Nick, can your neighbors see into your yard?”
“No, not unless they climb up on a fence,” I answered over my shoulder.
Celia came out in the negligee she had on the day before, sans robe. I was in the middle of taking a drink and almost missed my mouth. She walked around and paused before sitting, letting me take in the sight of her, then gracefully sat in the chair opposite me. I could see the sheer panties underneath the gossamer nightie, and the dark triangle at the juncture of her long legs. What a beautiful creature. She had also loosened her ponytail and let down her wavy, dark hair, which fell around her shoulders almost to her elbows. Did I mention how beautiful she is?
She casually picked up her drink and took a sip, “This is absolutely divine, Nick.”
“Thank you. And you’re absolutely divine,” I choked out, finding my voice.
“Oh, you smooth talker, you,” she replied with a playful smile.
Her expression turned more serious, “Nick, I said we would talk later about…well, you know what about. But I don’t want to talk about it anymore. What’s past is past. I want to focus on the present, and look forward to what the future can hold for us.”
“I am relieved to hear that, Celia; and I won’t let you down. That is not a promise; that is a solemn vow. Here’s to the most wonderful, understanding, and beautiful woman I have ever known,” I said, raising my glass.
She countered, “Here’s to us, to new beginnings.”
“New beginnings!” I repeated, feeling truly elated.
With her announcement, I felt great relief, and more than hope – I felt expectation and anticipation for what the future could hold.
We sat and talked about our visit with her parents, and she asked how things went with her dad. I told her about him offering me a job. She grinned and recounted how she had told her dad all about me. I disclosed my amazement at how beautiful and young her mother looked and my curiosity about her age.
“Mom is almost 62. Her birthday is next month.”
“Not possible!” I exclaimed.
“How old did you think she was?”
“At the outside, 50, but honestly, I only thought that because, otherwise she would be too young to have had you.”
“Well, how old do you think I am?”
“That’s never a fair question to ask a guy, but again, honestly, I figure between 30 and 34, based on the time you would need to finish college and have had a couple business, then establish a successful one.”
“Well, before I tell you my age, let me ask how old you are. I’ll tell you up front, I figured you had to be at least 34, because of your history, and I think you look early thirties,” she countered.
“I’m 38 pushing 39.”
“I’m happy to hear that, Nick…”
“What? You’re happy that I’m older?”
“Yes. I was kind of worried about how much younger than me you might be. I’m 41, Nick.”
I was gob smacked. “I don’t know what to say, except, I think it’s pretty hot that I’m dating an older woman.”
She laughed, leaned forward and slapped my knee, “I’m not that much older!”
I leaned forward, grabbed her and pulled her into my lap, then kissed her fiercely. She returned the kiss with equal passion and snaked her hand down to my partial erection, outlining it through my jeans with her long, delicate fingers.
She broke the kiss and gazed into my eyes with a smoldering look, “I think we need to table this discussion, and go to that bed you’ve never shared with anyone…You haven’t, have you?”
“It’s a virgin, but I’m not,” I joked.
“Mmm, well, no virgins here, but maybe this will be a first time for both of us.”
“How’s that?” I questioned.
“I’m hoping this is the first time of many times to come, and that is the first time either of us have made love to someone we can consider our soulmate. I can tell you it will be for me, but I have to ask about you and Andrea.”
“Andrea and I never made love. And as strongly as I felt about Andrea, I never felt about her like I feel about you.”
“Take me to bed, Nicholas. Make love to me.”
I stood, picking her up as I did. She felt light as a feather. When I got to the door, she pushed it open and we headed to the bedroom. I set her down next to the bed and she immediately engaged me in a soulful kiss. Separating, she began undressing me, slowly unbuttoning my shirt, then pulling my t-shirt over my head. She unbuckled my belt, unbuttoned and slowly unzipped my jeans, and dropping to her knees, pulled my pants down. She helped me step out of them, then grasped my boxers, smiled up at me and pulled them down. My semi-erect cock sprung out and she grabbed it, slowly ran her hand the length of it.
“Nicholas, again you don’t disappoint.”
I would have blushed, but I was already flushed with excitement. She slowly slipped the head between her lips then sucked my cock in to her warm, deep mouth, taking in over half of it. I quickly started to harden to a full erection.
“I can’t wait. I want you on the bed,” I informed her.
As she removed my cock from her mouth, she countered, “I didn’t want to rush our first time.”
“I don’t either, but I can’t wait to taste you,” I replied in a husky voice.
“Oh, in that case…” She stood and held her arms up, inviting me to remove her negligee.
I slipped it off, then stood for a moment taking in her beautiful torso, her lovely breasts, firm and perfectly shaped. Her dark, smooth aureoles sported long, very suckable-looking nipples, and I couldn’t resist. I took hold of the sides of her chest and bent down, taking first one nipple, then the other into my mouth and gently sucking and nibbling, enjoying the feel of them. She wrapped her hands behind my head and pressed my face firmly into her breast as I sucked. As lovely as that was, I was anxious to move lower, which I did, slowly kissing my way down till I reached her navel. It was vertical and long, which I love, and I buried my tongue in it for a moment as I squatted down.
I gently grasped her panties and slowly pulled them down, revealing her vulva. As I pulled them over her hips, I leaned in and took in the scent of her. My cock lurched in response. Her vulva was covered in a neatly groomed triangle of dense, curly dark hair.
“I want you on the bed. Prop yourself up so you can watch.”
She smiled and complied, turning and crawling on the bed, her muscular, curvy ass and long, shapely legs flexing as she crawled to the center and fluffed two pillows, before lying back. The sight of her was reward enough if I died in the next few seconds, but I really hoped I didn’t.
“Nick, in 13 years of marriage, Tom never once did this for me.”
“His loss,” I mused as I crawled in position between her spread legs. “Grab another pillow and I’ll put it under your hips,” I added.
She handed me a pillow and lifted her hips. As she did, I observed how her taut muscles rippled on her flat stomach. After positioning the pillow, I sprawled out between her legs and tucked my hands under her firm buttocks. Her labia were clean shaven, smooth and narrow, not beefy at all, delicate. Her inner labia were slender and delicate, with the slightest ripple to the folds of skin – in a word, gorgeous. I lifted slightly on her pelvis and pressed my whole mouth over her vagina, then using the tip of my tongue, I traced the length of her lips from her taint to just short of her clit, and back down again. I repeated this several times, doing an exploratory swipe of her pucker the last time.
“Oh, Nick, that’s…naughty…and nice.”
“Just like Santa’s list,” I quipped.
I continued licking and began poking my tongue into her sweet vagina as I went, encouraged by her cooing and her hands in my hair, gently pressing my face into her mound.
“Mmm, yes, oh, oh, sweet, so sweet…” she continued to murmur as I worked.
As she physically responded more and more, shuddering slightly and jinking her hips occasionally, I began to engage her clitoris, which was just barely showing beneath its hood. Instantly, she shuddered and jerked.
“Too soon?” I asked.
“No, just caught me by surprise, but felt good; just go slowly.”
I continued my slow manipulation of her vagina and gradually got more aggressive with my tongue, probing deeper into her vaginal opening and her pucker, responding to her physical and verbal cues. As her excitement built, I started engaging her clit more, lightly sucking and tonguing it, while I slipped a finger, then two into her vagina, gently working them around.
“Oh, baby, you could make me cum that way…mmm, uh huh, ohhh, keep…faster…the clit, you can go…oh yes, like that…”
I began thrusting my fingers faster, and when she arched her hips up more, I removed my fingers and pressed one against her pucker and slipped my thumb in her vagina, while I used my other hand to help hold her up in place. I started licking and sucking her clit more vigorously as she started a litany of moans and exclamations in response to her gradually building climax. As she relaxed her anus, I slipped a finger in, then pushed my thumb in her vagina and started lightly but quickly jacking them in and out.
Her legs and hips started shaking, and she grabbed my hair, pulling hard as she approached her climax.
“Oh, Nick, Nick, yes, keep…ungh, keep going, don’t stop, yes, yes, OH, OH, OH, going to cum, AH, AH, OH FUCK!” she yelped as her orgasm slammed into her.
I locked onto her clit and sucked firmly on it as I tapped it with my tongue, then as her climax receded, I released it and let her come down.
“Kiss me, kiss me,” she urged.
I wiped my face in her dense bush, then crawled up her long torso and kissed her. She wrapped her legs around me attacked my mouth, kissing me fiercely.
She broke the kiss, “I love you, Nick, and I’m not just saying that because you just made me cum like crazy, but…” she laughed, “that was pretty damn nice.”
“The pleasure was all mine; and I love you too. Have for a while, but was afraid to say it; afraid to believe it and have it come to nothing…I’m not afraid anymore.”
“Thank you, Nick…Now, shut up and fuck me!”
“With pleasure.”
I moved down into position, removed the pillow from under her hips and started to guide my cock into her vagina, but she took over.
“Let me. I want to feel your cock in my hands and feel it slip into me,” she opined in a sultry, husky voice that sent chills through me. With both hands on my cock, she pressed the head against her vaginal opening and pushed until the head popped in, all the while with her head tilted forward, watching.
“Okay Nick, take me, fuck me,” she growled, “Fuck me, baby. I want to feel your cock buried in me.”
Her ribald banter surprised me, and inflamed me. I pushed forward, relishing the feel of her warm, wet, snug tunnel as I slipped in further and further. As our groins met, I felt my cockhead press against her cervix – perfect fit. I began slow stroking, coming to the edge of her vagina before pressing back in. She wrapped her long legs up around my back, her heals almost on my neck, tilting her pelvis and giving me a more direct path to begin thrusting harder. I started ratcheting my hips faster and faster as she urged me on with her hands cupping my ass cheeks. I got a smooth, brisk rhythm going, and she was nodding into my shoulder and moaning into my ear, encouraging me.
“Yes, yes, like that, just like that, mmm, mmm, yes, baby, you fill me so nice…I’m close, I’m close, faster, baby, faster.”
I started thrusting harder and faster, smacking against her ass and the backs of her thighs in response to her urgings, and feeling my own climax building.
“Gonna cum, baby, gonna cum. Give it to me, ungh, ungh, oh, oh, oh…CUMMING, NNGHHH, FUCK…OH FUCK-CUMMMINGGG!” she screamed as her climax plowed through her.
I pounded her and felt my cock swell to it’s fullest and the cum boiling up from my balls, then the semen blasted out in one of the strongest orgasms I’ve had. Her body shook beneath me in orgasmic release. She dropped her legs down to the small of my back and wrapped her arms around me, hugging her trembling body tight against me.
“Oh, Nick, baby, that was wonderful, so wonderful…” she murmured.
I almost didn’t hear her from the loud sound of my breathing and the blood pounding in my ears. We stayed like that, our sweaty body glued to each other, till we calmed down. Gradually, Celia released me and dropped her legs to the bed. I let my softening cock slip from her still grasping vagina and rolled onto my side. She turned to me, smiling and tenderly kissed me.
I mumbled, “I’m thirsty. That was hard work.”
“But I hope it wasn’t a chore,” she chided.
“Never.”
Went spent the next several hours making love, resting, recovering (for me), cuddling, and making love again, until we were exhausted.
“We’ve made a mess of your bed,” she laughed.
“I have a washer…I’m hungry,” I stated, flatly.
“Breakfast sounds great. What time is it?” she asked, in response.
“Um, almost four. But it’s eight o’clock somewhere.”
“Pancakes. I want pancakes,” she remarked.
“Pancakes it is.”
Our first time was more than memorable, but it was just the beginning, the beginning of a future I had given up on. Celia and I are engaged, and I have started working on plans for Lou and Gabriella’s vacation home with the promise of going out on my own again, in the future.
So, in spite of my past, my failures and mistakes, I have arrived at a present that promises a future where I can redeem myself from that past.
I must add, that as idyllic as our relationship is, there are some things we’ve had to work out. In fact, when it came to my car, I had to put my foot down with Celia – the GTO is my car and I drive it…and sometimes, she let’s me.
The End of
ROAD TO REDEMPTION