Life in a Small N.H. Town Part 2: The Wedding and Beyond.
****
Here’s the normal disclaimer that all participants who engage in any sort of sexual activity are over 18 when it occurs. Lake County, NH, its towns and inhabitants, and all activities portrayed in this story only exist in my imagination.
This story picks up where ‘Life in a Small NH Town’ ends. It can be read as a standalone story, but the reader may get a fuller appreciation of the characters if they read ‘Life’ first. It advances the lives of four of the main characters from ‘Life’ and introduces some new ones.
In response to comments from ‘Life’ readers, there is a commitment to plot and character development as well as vignettes that offer additional glimpses of small-town life. Thus, the first part of the narrative slowly builds towards the climax. If you are looking for graphic sex in the first 100 words, this is probably not for you. Anticipating some readers may suggest there is too much background detail, I would reply that my goal is to provide multidimensional characters with enough history so readers not from a rural small town, or not from the U.S., would better understand and appreciate life here.
These stories are in the Romance section. Romance builds over time. I sincerely hope you enjoy it for what it is: A place to relax and escape for a little while, away from all the turmoil in our world today. If you enjoy the trip as much as arriving at the destination, you will find romance, drama, interesting new characters, plot twists, a bit of humor, and of course, sex.
My gratitude and thanks to my anonymous friend, for their editing and perceptive suggestions. Any and all errors are mine and mine alone
Enjoy!
Guy
P.S. This is my work alone and I maintain all international rights. No republishing anywhere without the express written permission from the author.
****
Saturday, September 8 th, 2018.
Derrick
As usual, Olivia and I woke up early, but today was hardly going to be a usual day. At 5:00 PM we were going to be married here in Appleton, NH. Our normal Saturday morning ritual, seasons and weather permitting, was to have our first coffee on the back porch. Today, the weather was cooperating, giving us a classic mid-September New Hampshire day. It was still brisk this early but was supposed to warm up to the mid-seventies (24oC) by afternoon.
While sipping our coffee, we looked out over Olivia’s backyard. Yesterday the tent company had set up a tent large enough to accommodate seating for the 50 guests we were expecting and a small dance floor. Tables and chairs were in place. To the side was a smaller tent for the caterers. They were Phil and Sherry Morgan, the owners of the restaurant where Olivia had worked for the last several years. In typical small-town fashion, they showed their appreciation of Olivia’s long-term relationship by offering to cater her wedding for the cost of the food. Small towns are so nice to live in.
The foliage of the hardwoods in the hills beyond the tent was well on its way towards peak color with reds, oranges, yellow and green blending in beautifully. Such a perfect backdrop for a wedding. We finished our coffee and went inside to make breakfast. Since we believed the likelihood to find time for lunch may be nonexistent, we enjoyed a full breakfast back on the porch. Most likely, this was our last peaceful moment together today, at least until after all the wedding guests had departed.
“Do you mind doing the dishes while I take a quick shower? Who knows when people may show up and I want to be ready.”
“Sure thing, Olivia.”
I was just finishing putting things away when Olivia’s daughter, Beth, walked in, followed by a young man I hadn’t met. Beth and her twin brother, Tom, had graduated from the University of New Hampshire, UNH, two years earlier. She lived and worked in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Tom worked in Portland, Maine
“This is Michael, my ‘plus one’ for the wedding.”
“Pleased to meet you, Michael. Beth, your mom’s taking a shower. I’ll let her know you’re here.”
Olivia’s husband, Greg, died when his Humvee hit an IED, leaving her widowed with the one-year-old twins. She struggled but managed to hold the family together and to see Beth and Tom graduate. Beth and Olivia had always had a close relationship. At our first meeting, it was apparent that Beth was concerned about my intentions towards her mom. Over time, she realized that there was mutual respect and warmth in our relationship. Beth is now comfortable with me.
Olivia was just emerging from the shower when I entered the bathroom. It’s a vision I never get tired of, bringing back fond memories of our first shower together. ‘Best not go down that road right now,’ I thought.
“Beth and Michael just arrived.”
“Michael? I wasn’t aware.”
“Her ‘plus one’.”
“Tell her I’ll be right out.”
“Your mom just got out of the shower and will be with us shortly. Do you guys want some coffee?”
“Always.”
“There’s enough for the three of us. Let me put on another pot for Olivia and whoever shows up next.”
They went out on the porch; I started another pot and joined them.
“Derrick, I admit that I had reservations about you when we first met. It’s clear that you and mom have a great relationship. I’m sincerely happy for both of you.”
“Thanks, Beth. Hearing that means a lot to me.”
Olivia soon joined us, carrying her cup of coffee. She gave Beth a warm, welcoming hug.
“So good to see you, Beth.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s not often I’m invited to a wedding, and this one is so special to me. Mom, this is my friend Michael. We’ve been working on the same project for the past year. Turns out, we have many similar interests outside of work.”
Olivia caught Derrick’s eye and the knowledge of the unsaid passed between them. Beth blushed slightly.
“Michael, very happy to meet you. I’m afraid that today may get hectic. Perhaps you two can visit after we return from Hawaii and we can get to know each other better.”
“Sure, mom. We’d like that.”
Another car pulled into the yard and Tom got out, coming over to join them.
“Mom, so good to see you,” he said as he gave her a hug.
“Beth, you’re not too old to get one too,” he said as he embraced his sister.
“Glad to see you, Tom. Coffee?”
“Sure thing, Derrick. Black with sugar.”
Unlike Beth, Tom and I had always had a friendly relationship. I gave him his coffee. Since he didn’t bring a ‘plus one” Olivia asked, “What happened with Anita?”
“It just didn’t work out. We had different values. But that’s not the important news. I’ve just been offered a job in Greensboro with a small biomedical firm, which I accepted. Some headhunter found my Linkedin profile, saw I was from the area, that I was a software engineer and contacted me. I interviewed yesterday and was offered the job on the spot, with a hefty raise. I’m not sure, but I don’t think they had many qualified applicants that wanted to move to small town New Hampshire. My lease in Portland is up at the end of the month, so the timing is perfect. I’ll give notice on Monday. Portland’s been nice, but I’ve always liked this area.”
“Tom, it will be so good to have you living closer.”
“Thanks, Mom, I’m looking forward to it.”
“If it helps, you can borrow one of my trucks to move with.”
“Thanks, Derrick. I was planning on renting a small U-Haul. In the meantime, I need to use the bathroom.”
After he left, Beth said, “Mom, you should know that Anita cheated on him. It wasn’t a good break-up. No one should have to put up with that.” Everyone was acutely aware of her glance to Michael and the unequivocal message Beth was sending him. “I think that may have influenced his choice to leave Portland.”
Saturday mid-afternoon.
Phil, Sherry and three servers arrived and began preparations. Tables were set, flowers placed. A limited bar was set-up. The wedding was going to be fairly informal, so, other than the head table, there was no assigned seating. The DJ arrived and started connecting his equipment. Derrick and Olivia excused themselves to freshen-up and change.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll take the first shower. I’ll need more time to dress than you.”
“Of course, dear.” I couldn’t help but admire her as she undressed. I still get a thrill every time I see her. Forty-four looked very good on her. I undressed as she finished her shower. As she passed me, she flashed a smile and cupped me. “That’s not fair, Olivia.”
“Later. I promise.”
She was busy drying her hair as I emerged from the shower. Olivia had taken a trip down to Manchester with my bookkeeper, neighbor, and good friend, Susan, to buy a dress. While it was not to be a traditional bride’s dress, she wouldn’t let me see it ahead of the wedding. I dressed in a new suit and made myself scarce. Olivia had picked out my shirt and tie to coordinate with her dress. Susan and Beth converged on our bedroom to assist Olivia. Frances, the woman who owns the Appleton Beauty Salon arrived and also disappeared into the bedroom.
Mark Christianson, aptly named for his profession, is a semi-retired minister from Appleton; he was officiating the ceremony. He arrived and joined me on the back porch. Neither Olivia nor I are particularly religious, but felt that a minister was more fitting than a justice of the peace. Mark had keyed in on our desire to have a wedding reflective of sharing our love and devotion, but not overly religious. The three of us had refined the script for our vows over the previous couple of weeks.
At around 4:15, guests started arriving. One of them was Chris, my recently hired employee. She had previously discussed with Olivia that she knew a very good, but amateur, photographer, who agreed to document our wedding for us. I didn’t pay much attention to the photographer arriving with Chris, unloading her equipment and setting up off in one corner of the tent. It wasn’t until there was a lull in my conversation with Mark that I realized the photographer was Shiloh.
Shiloh operated an organic vegetable farm and also raised chickens for eggs and bees for honey, selling at several local stores, two farmers’ markets and at the farm. My first interaction with her was to offer a ride home when she was stranded, which she had grudgingly accepted. My second was to take Chris for a part time job interview at her farm. She only hired female workers, was a very private person, and her reputation in town was someone who intensely disliked males. My two times meeting her seemed to affirm that reputation. Therefore, I was shocked to see her at my wedding.
Several weeks earlier.
Chris
I grew up on a dairy farm in southern New Hampshire. At 22, I was ready to move on as my two older brothers wanted to continue farming together. My Aunt Susan knew I was looking, called, and told me about a possible job working for her neighbor, Derrick. He runs a property maintenance business and was expanding. The short story is he hired me, probably three quarters time at first, but I wouldn’t start for a week or two until he closed a deal to expand his business. I was staying with my Aunt Susan and Uncle Joe until I could afford a place of my own. Through his contacts, Derrick found that Shiloh was looking for help. He took me to her farm, we hit it off and I started the next day. I’d work full time until I started for Derrick, then as much part-time as I could fit.
The next few weeks.
Shiloh had several high school age girls working for her. She paid well and expected them to work hard. She led by example and, surprisingly for their age, most of them were productive workers. I was the oldest employee. I guess after high school, most people either go on to college or look for less physical work. Me, after a lifetime on a dairy farm, I found this work much easier and really enjoyable.
Shiloh had a daughter, Sierra, who looked to be about 2. Rachel, a neighbor’s daughter, babysat most of the time. Rachael was home schooled, so her schedule was generally flexible. If she wasn’t available, one of the other girls would fill in.
Once I started working for Derrick, my schedule with him was full days Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, half a day Thursday and off Friday. Basically, I worked all my off time for Shiloh, including after work if I finished Derrick’s jobs early. Anyone who’s grown up farming knows, more often than not, it’s a seven-day work week. Cows still need to be milked twice a day. When haying and harvesting season rolls around, the days can get pretty long. So, while I did work long days and weeks, it was not new to me.
A Monday after work.
Shiloh approached me with a proposition.
“Chris, you were a god send to me, and I appreciate everything you do. I’ve always wanted to expand into farmers’ markets, but as you may have gathered, I’m not a people person, I especially don’t deal well with men. Thus, I’ve concentrated on supplying local stores. I’ve found out there are openings in the market in Appleton Friday afternoons and Saturday mornings in Long Lake. Long lake is somewhat upscale, so we should do well there. Would you be interested in being the front person, dealing with the customers? I’d always be there, but in the background?”
It didn’t take much thinking for me to agree.
“When do you want to start?”
“I’ve found a 12 by 12-foot canopy, the type so common at farmer’s markets, and some folding tables that I can pick up tomorrow. We can start on Friday. Unfortunately, this week we’ll have to be cash only until I can get accounts set up to process sales electronically. I’m told we can have that by next week.”
Friday.
We arrived quite early to allow adequate set-up time. It went smoothly and by closing, we had sold out most of what we brought. Shiloh was definitely pleased.
Saturday.
Again, we had a very good response. Long Lake definitely had a more upscale crowd. Despite a sign stating this week was cash only, there was some grumbling about it. I assured people that next week we would be able to process electronic transactions. Again, we sold out of practically everything. After we got back to Shiloh’s and had stored the unsold product in her walk-in cooler, Shiloh asked, “Care for a beer?”
“Actually, that sounds perfect.”
We went into the house, sent Rachel home and sat out on the front porch with Sierra asleep in one of those rocking carriers.
“I’m going to start looking for an apartment next week. I’ve saved up enough for rent, deposits, etc. I’m sure that my aunt and uncle would be glad to not have me sleeping on their pull-out sofa bed.”
“You know, you could stay here if you wanted. This house is way too big for Sierra and I. I like you, Chris, and I would enjoy the adult company. I love Sierra, but conversations with a two-year-old are not exactly stimulating.”
“I’m not sure that….”
“I suspect I know what you’re going to say. Hear me out please.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve overheard the girls talk about me. I’ve seen the looks on some of the town’s people’s faces. My reputation seems to be a man-hating, lesbian, hippie, bitch. I’m not a man-hater as much as man-distruster, with good reason. I’m definitely not a lesbian, although I can understand why people may think that. I do hire only females, but it’s only because they’re not males. No one who’s worked here could ever say I made anything resembling a lesbian advance on them. I guess I could be classified as asexual, if anything, at this point in my life. I can plead guilty to hippy leanings. It’s genetic. And I don’t even actually know what a bitch is. Really.”
“I don’t know what to say. Do you want to explain…”
“No. Not now at least. I have my reasons.”
“Let me think about it.” We finished our beers and I prepared to leave. “See you tomorrow.”
Sunday
I did think about it. After work, Shiloh invited me to the house again. Rachel left, but today Sierra was in a very active phase, alternating between crawling and sort of walking while holding on to whatever was convenient: couch, chair, table. Shiloh grabbed a couple of beers and we sat on the couch.
“What exactly were you offering yesterday?”
“Simply a place to stay that isn’t your relative’s couch. No strings attached. Sierra and I sleep in the master bedroom, in the ell on this floor. There’re five rooms upstairs, two are set up as bedrooms, one with its own bathroom. You’d have your privacy; you can come and go as you wish. Yesterday, I said I’d enjoy some adult company. Afterwards, I realized that I should have been explicit that I don’t expect you to sit here every night, but an occasional evening with adult conversation would be nice. We could share meals or not. I’m actually a pretty good cook.”
Sierra started to cry.
“Excuse me for a couple of minutes. Dirty diaper time.”
While she was gone, I looked around the room. Lots of photos on the walls. I took a quick exploration of the kitchen. Shiloh maintained a neat, clean, well-organized house. I returned to the living room and was admiring a photo of the moon low in the sky over a field of grain. Striking.
“That’s in Montana.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“I used to do a lot of photography. Not much time for that recently.”
“These photos are all yours?”
“Yes.”
“You should try to make at least a little time. You clearly have an eye for your subject matter. I think I may be interested in your proposal. Details?”
“Simple. You can stay here, almost rent free. It’s not going to cost me much, except for maybe a bit more for hot water and electricity. Call it $50.00 a month. I get to enjoy your company, at least occasionally. You get a decent place at almost no cost. If we share meals, we share expenses for purchased items. If it didn’t work out for you, you could leave at any time with no hard feelings. There is one condition and one possible downside for you. No male company, at least not inside the house. What you do elsewhere is none of my business. You also need to consider what staying here would do to your reputation. After all, you would be staying with a man-hating, lesbian, hippy, bitch, and everyone who cares about that sort of thing knows that being in close proximity such evil things would immediately contaminate you.”
I had to laugh at that last comment, which started Shiloh laughing. It was probably the first time I’d heard that.
“I think I’m interested. Despite the possibility of contamination that you present.”
We both laughed again.
“There is minor consideration for you. Derrick has us bring our trucks and trailers home every night.”
“There’s plenty of room in front of the barn.”
“When do you want to start this?”
“Anytime you can get packed up.”
“Not much to pack. Tomorrow, after work? I can leave the truck here, but I’ll need you to drive me to Susan’s place in Vienna, since my car is there.”
“Swing by when you’re done work.”
“I should get going. See you tomorrow.”
I arrived home and set about packing what little I had. After dinner, I told Susan and Joe that I had found a place and would be out of their hair.
“You can have your family room back.”
“That’s good news, but we’ll miss you. Where’s your new place?”
“I’m going to be staying at Shiloh’s. Her place is big and I’ll have space on the second floor that she doesn’t use.”
I could see Susan and Joe exchange glances.
“She’s not anything like the rumors you’ve probably heard. She’s really very nice.”
Monday.
After work, I left my work truck at Shiloh’s. She dropped me off at Susan and Joe’s. Since I moved all of my belongings from the farm in my car, they all fit back into it. As I was carrying the last suitcase, Susan approached me. The concern on her face was noticeable.
“Are you sure this is the right step for you?”
“First, you get to use your whole house. I really appreciate your finding me this job and letting me stay here. We both knew it was a temporary solution and the time has come for me to move on.”
“But…”
“I think I know your objection. Shiloh’s reputation might rub off on me. We’ve talked about it, and I can deal with it. To be very direct, Shiloh is not a lesbian and will not turn me into one. She is currently asexual. It’s pretty clear she was assaulted by a male sometime in her past, but she won’t discuss it. In private, she’s really a warm person and is a very good mother to Sierra.”
Susan visibly relaxed.
“You can share this with Uncle Joe, but it’s probably best to keep it to yourselves. If people knew she was denying being a lesbian, that would confirm she was to certain people. She knows who she is, I know who I am. It’s nobody else’s business.”
“You’re right. You’re always welcome back if it doesn’t work out.”
With that, I left.
Tuesday, the following week.
Life at Shiloh’s was pleasant, but uneventful. We’d finish up what was necessary outside, clean-up, then have dinner. She was an excellent cook, drawing on and mixing many recipes from different ethnicities. Once Sierra was in bed, we’d often have a beer, a glass of wine, or iced tea; on the porch if the weather was nice. Today it started raining just as we finished cleaning up after dinner, so we were inside. I was admiring some of her photos.
“These really are quite good. Have you ever thought about selling prints?”
Shiloh looked thoughtful, almost pensive.
“I’ll tell you a little about them, which really means I’ll be sharing some of my life’s history. This has to be strictly between us. As you have already figured out, I’m very protective of my privacy.”
“Of course, Shiloh. I understand confidentiality. I hope I’ve never given you any reason to think otherwise.”
Shiloh
“My grandparents lived on a commune in Guilford, Vermont, Total Loss Farm at Packer Corners, which was settled by some hippies in the late 1960’s. It has never been exactly clear when they arrived, but my mother, Willow, was born there in 1970. She spent the first 12 years of her life in the rather untamed hippie culture of that era. By then, my mom had two younger siblings and my grandparents moved to Brattleboro to get ‘real jobs and a more stable environment for the three kids. Mom, however, was always intrigued by the hippie culture and attended Marlboro College. At that time Marlboro could best be described as a hippie haven. She graduated with a degree in forestry, probably picked her degree to reflect her name.
I was born in ’93. I have no idea who my dad is, nor do I think my mom knows. We moved multiple times while I was growing up. We eventually settled in St. Johnsbury, Vermont. My mom met a guy named Bob Fuller. They eventually moved in together, and in fact are still together. For all intents and purposes, Bob was my dad. He had a good job and provided well for the three of us. I attended and graduated from St. Johnsbury Academy. While there, I took a photography class, and was hooked. Bob bought me a Nikon DSLR and a couple of lenses. Photography has brought me great joy.
Like many 18-year old’s, I wanted to get away from home. I went to college at Montana State in Bozeman. The tuition was affordable, and eventually I graduated with a degree in Environmental Horticultural Science, with a minor in Sustainability. You can probably figure out that many of these photos are from Montana. I came back east after graduation and settled here.”
Chris
“Why New Hampshire?”
“I needed a change.”
“There has to be more than that.”
Silence on her part. Must be a touchy subject. We moved on to small talk, eventually retiring.
Thursday
Typical Thursday. I finished up lawn care at noonish, worked in the fields until supper time and went to my room to take a shower. That done, I returned downstairs. Rachel had already left; Sierra was in an active phase and Shiloh hadn’t yet cleaned up.
“Would you mind watching her while I take a shower?”
“Not at all.”
Shiloh left for her room. Sierra was learning to walk by holding on to the coffee table. Somehow, she stumbled, fell, and hit her forehead on the edge of the table. Loud wailing ensued. Shiloh came flying out of her bedroom, dripping wet, with a towel wrapped around her. She picked up Sierra, cradling her to her chest.
“What happened?”
I explained the fall.
“I think she was more frightened than hurt.”
Shiloh sat on the chair opposite me, still holding Sierra tightly.
“It’s okay little one. Mama’s here.”
She started singing ‘Hush, Little Baby’ and Sierra quieted right down listening to her mother’s sing-song voice. Shiloh moved her away a bit and looked at her forehead.
“Do you want me to get some ice or anything?”
“No. I don’t think there’s even going to be a bruise.”
Evidently, Sierra wanted to be back closer to her mom. She reached out for her mother, grabbing onto the towel instead, and pulling it off, leaving Shiloh’s front completely exposed. I gasped at what I saw. There was a huge scar on the outside of her left breast, another that started above her belly button and ended in her pubic hair. A third scar started just below her hair and ran down the inside of her right thigh, almost to her knee. The fourth was on the inside of her right calf.
“Will you cuddle her while I finish my shower and get dressed?” she asked. She didn’t wait for an answer, quickly handed me Sierra, and hurried out of the room.
Somehow, I remembered most of the words to ‘Hush Little Baby’ and sang it to her. She fell asleep in my arms. When Shiloh finished, she took her from me and put her in her bed. We went into the kitchen where the only conversation was specific to food prep and cooking. We ate and cleaned up in silence, studiously avoiding the elephant in the room.
Shiloh grabbed a bottle of red, two glasses, and headed for the living room. I followed. She sat on the couch, I on the chair opposite. She twisted off the screw top, poured both of us a drink. Again, silence reigned supreme. Shiloh looked like she was going to talk a couple of times, but hesitated. Nothing. It seemed best for me to remain quiet.
Finally: “Well, now you know why I always wear either pants or a long dress. It has nothing to do with being a hippie.”
“Shiloh, you don’t have say anything. I’m sorry I reacted like that. I… was surprised, shocked actually.”
“I…I…I…was…raped… in Montana, the summer after my junior year. It was brutal. You’ve seen the scars, the physical ones.”
I moved over, sat on the couch beside her, and hugged her. Tears were running down her face in a steady stream. I went to the kitchen, returning with a box of tissues. I hugged her again.
“I don’t actually hate men, just one, and he’s in jail for 25 to life, may he rot in hell. And I’m not even religious. The man hating is an act of self-protection. I’m afraid anyone who saw me naked would have your reaction. I couldn’t deal with that, so I’ve made sure everyone knows I’m not available.
I was a summer intern at an environmental company near Bozeman. The guy who raped me was Richard Seaman, forever known to me as Dick Semen.”
She laughed, but there was no mirth in it.
“He was 26 to my 21, and the CEO’s son. Four of us, three men and I, were doing a remote assessment that required 4 nights in tents. Separate tents. This was my first assignment with him and he seemed nice enough until the last night. He started drinking heavily at supper. Around 11:00, he crept into my tent. I resisted, but he was both bigger and determined. After he finished, I managed to kick him in the balls, which enraged him. He pulled out a knife. You saw the result. My yelling woke the other two guys, who subdued him, restrained him, stopped my bleeding the best they could and rushed me to the hospital, 20 miles away. Fortunately, the cuts were mostly superficial. No major organs were damaged, and he didn’t cut my face.
“He was arrested and convicted. The jury took less than an hour. His family was very wealthy, and I believe, were genuinely aghast by his behavior. They offered a very generous settlement, which I quickly accepted, in order to put the rape behind me. They are also paying child support and have already funded Sierra’s college expenses.”
I was stunned by this whole conversation, but the last bit completely shook me.
“You mean…”
“Yes. I wasn’t very sexually active, used condoms when I was, so not on any birth control. Obviously, not a concern for Dick Semen. Initially I was so traumatized, that I didn’t realize I was pregnant. The really weird thing is I truly love Sierra.”
“That’s obvious to anyone who has seen you together. Oh, Shiloh, I’m so, so sorry. Is there anything I can do for you? Are you seeing a counselor of any kind?”
“I did, weekly, throughout my senior year. The school insisted on it, as they had arranged the internship. Senior year was hell. I was the girl who was raped and became pregnant, who kept the baby. Everybody knew. Some were supportive, some avoided me, like my bad luck would contaminate them.”
“Are you seeing any therapist here?”
“No. I came here to be where nobody knew me. I don’t know who I could trust. Therefore, I haven’t.”
“I’m just a farm girl who didn’t go to college, but I’m pretty sure holding all of that anger inside is not good for you. I could discretely ask my aunt for a reference. I’d probably have to tell her it was for you, but not why.”
Shiloh didn’t respond for several minutes.
I finally heard in a meek voice, “Okay.”
“Chris, I have a huge favor to ask of you.”
“Go ahead…”
“This has been really draining for me. Can you stay with me tonight? Please? I need someone to hold me.”
“I like to think of you as a friend. Friends help friends in need. Of course, I will. If it helps you to relax, I can give your back, shoulders, neck and scalp a massage. I’m not a professional, but have had some training in massage therapy.”
“I’d like that.”
For the first time all evening I could see Shiloh relaxing. We did our normal bathroom routine, shut off the light, stripped down to our panties and got into bed together. Her back muscles were tight and knotty. I used all the techniques I knew and could feel the tightness ebb as she relaxed. Eventually, her breathing changed as she slipped into a peaceful sleep. I rolled over. I was both physically and emotionally exhausted. Sleep came quickly.
Friday
I woke up first, put on some coffee and went up to my room to dress. The day started pretty much like any other. But something was different between us, a new bond. I told Shiloh I needed a couple of hours off, but would be back in time to get ready for the Friday market.
I headed to Vienna to see Susan. After small talk, I explained what I needed for Shiloh. She referred me to Dr. Kate O’Sullivan. I called and actually got to speak to Dr. O’Sullivan. I said that I was calling to make an appointment for a friend who was a rape victim who had finally agreed that she needed help, mentioning Susan had referred me to her. I requested a Thursday afternoon or Friday morning appointment and told her I would be providing taxi service.
“This is a highly unusual way to do this, but rape cases demand special handling. I’ll see your friend at 2:00 next Thursday.”
Her tone and wording suggested she may believe I was the ‘friend’ needing help.
Wednesday
After dinner we sat out on the porch, enjoying some iced tea and the sunset.
“Tomorrow, you have an appointment at 2:00 with Dr. Kate O’Sullivan. I’ll pick you up at 1:30. Chris’s taxi service.”
Initially, her face hardened as her defenses went up. Silence for a few minutes.
“That’s why you needed time off on Friday.”
“Yep. But you did agree, however reluctantly. We both know you need to face down and defeat these demons that haunt you. I’ll support you however I can, even if I’m only your transportation facilitator.”
“Transportation facilitator?”
“We both know this is a huge step for you, and how hard that first step will be. I’m only going to make sure you take the first one. The rest is up to you. I waited ’til tonight to tell you, so you’d have the shortest time to stress over it. In the meantime, if it helps you relax, I can give you another massage.”
“I never thanked you for the last one. I needed someone with me that night. The massage was a bonus. Thanks.”
We retired to her room. Events unfolded as they did last Thursday. Her tight muscles responded to the massage, her breathing slowed, she fell asleep as did I. Again, nothing sexual happened.
Thursday
I picked up a very nervous Shiloh, we arrived at Dr. O’Sullivan’s office, and she filled out the inevitable paperwork. The door to the waiting room opened. An older woman, maybe late fifty’s, with the look and demeanor of everyone’s favorite grandmother, entered. If she was surprised to see two of us, she didn’t show it. I rose.
“I’m Chris, the one who called you. This is my friend, Shiloh Roberts. Shiloh, I’ll be outside when you’re finished.”
“Shiloh, I’m Kate. I’m so happy you decided to visit with me today. Please join me in my sitting room.”
I went to the restaurant across the street to get a coffee.
“Hi, Olivia. I’d like a coffee to-go.”
“Chris! Sure thing. What brings you to town?”
“Some personal business to attend to on my afternoon off.”
I paid for the coffee and enjoyed sipping it while luxuriating in one of the rocking chairs on Kate’s front porch. Shiloh’s session lasted close to two hours. Surprisingly, she didn’t appear stressed out. Rather than engage in small talk, she turned on the radio and found one the New Hampshire Public Radio Classical stations. No conversation on the ride home, just music.
Later that evening.
Olivia
“Derrick, Chris came in this afternoon to get a to-go coffee.”
“We all like our coffee.”
“She said she had some ‘personal business’ to attend to. She went over and sat on Dr. Kate’s front porch. Just as I was getting ready to leave, Shiloh came out and they left together.”
“Strange. But it’s probably best not to speculate too much. Not our business.”
“Agreed. But unusual.”
A few weeks later.
Chris
Shiloh had twice a week session with Dr. Kate. Initially, I provided taxi service. It involved a bit of schedule juggling on Tuesdays, but I made it work. Eventually, Shiloh said she was okay to drive herself. Progress.
As it was raining, we were sitting in the living room. Sierra was asleep.
“Kate wants me to get out in public a little, interact with people on a limited basis.”
This was the first time she had brought up anything about her therapy sessions.
“You could do some of the counter work at the markets. I’d be right there beside you. By now I’m familiar with all the regulars. Most are quite nice. I’ll take over if you’re tired, if I recognize a difficult customer, or a new one.”
“You’re as good for me as Kate. Thanks. She also wants me to pick up my photography again. She’s encouraging me to do something I’ve enjoyed in the past.”
The next day.
I again stopped for coffee.
“Olivia, do you have a photographer for your wedding?”
“No. Derrick and I discussed it, but decided at our age and the expense involved, we’d forego it. Besides, everyone has their smartphones. I’m sure we’ll have plenty.”
“I have a friend, not a professional, who has a natural eye for composition, who’s getting back into photography. My friend might be interested in shooting your wedding just for the cost of the prints.”
“I’m sure Derrick would agree.”
I hoped Shiloh would.
That evening.
“I have a proposition for you that incorporates the two things we discussed last night, that Kate suggested you engage in.”
“Do tell.”
“Olivia and Derrick’s wedding is coming up. I spoke with her today. No photographer. She was receptive to you, identified as a friend, being theirs.”
“That’s too much, too soon.”
“Think about it. First, if it wasn’t for Derrick, I never would have met you and you wouldn’t be on the road to recovery.” I know, guilt tripping on my part. “And, unlike Dickhead, Derrick is a genuinely nice person. He treats Olivia with respect and love; me, I just get the respect treatment. Second, we have a few weeks of farmers markets for you to get used to interacting with people before the wedding. Third, wedding photographers, by their very nature, blend into the background. No one’s going to approach you while you are working. Fourth, I’ll be there. Since I won’t have a ‘plus one”, I’ll be available to run interference for you if necessary. You know that I’m well-muscled and I have had some self-defense training. I haven’t had to use it, but will if the situation presents itself. Knowing Olivia, Derrick and their friends, I think there is a very low probability to need those skills”
“Let me discuss this with Kate.”
She did. Kate was in favor. Shiloh slowly gained confidence interacting with market customers over the weeks prior to the wedding. Thus, Shiloh became the official photographer for the wedding.
Back to the wedding.
Derrick
Five o’clock arrived. Guests were all seated. Mark signaled me to come up front. He nodded to Susan, who opened the door for Olivia’s entrance. The DJ played the Wedding March. I was stunned. I’ve seen Olivia in her waitress’s uniform, in jeans, in shorts, in dresses, but never as beautiful as today. Her dress was pale green, patterned with forest green leaves and white flowers. It was long, flowing nearly to her ankles. Three quarter length sleeves flared out a bit mid forearm, slightly puffy shoulders with a surprisingly low-cut front. It was appropriately tight in all the right places and flared out enough at the hem to facilitate easy walking or dancing.
Frances had highlighted her hair earlier in the week. I’m a guy, and won’t even attempt to describe her style. I later learned that it is called a ‘voluminous twisted chignon”. The effect was perfect. Olivia generally didn’t wear make-up. When we’d go out, she applied only enough to enhance her natural beauty. Today, she was stunning. Words are simply inadequate to describe my soon to be wife.
The ceremony proceeded fairly quickly, we spoke our vows, Mark pronounced us man and wife.
“You may kiss the bride.”
I stepped closer to Olivia and leaned towards her when multiple alarms went off at the same time. Pandemonium broke out as a dozen or so people ran towards their cars and trucks. I saw Phil exchange words with John as John headed for his truck. Flashing red lights came on and sirens were activated as the vehicles hit the town road.
Fire protection in small rural towns is typically provided by volunteer fire departments. Each firefighter carries a radio, 24/7, that goes off when calls come in. Everyone drops what they’re doing and scrambles. There are certain things that strengthen the fabric that is a small-town community. Certainly, the volunteer fire department is one of the important ones.
I noticed that Shiloh had been busy taking pictures as the firefighters left.
Phil approached me and said, “John’s going to update me when they know what they’re up against. If you agree, Sherry and I will pause dinner until they return, if it’s not a major event.”
“Thanks, Phil.”
I turned to Olivia. “You heard?”
“Yes. In the meantime, you still owe me a kiss. Gently. My make-up needs to last the evening.”
“You are so beautiful. You remind me of that old Joe Cocker song.”
Author’s note: For readers too young to remember, it’s “You are so Beautiful” performed by Joe Cocker.
She knew the one I meant and smiled. I did kiss her. Very carefully. Shiloh was right there with her camera, clicking away. I was glad we had her documenting our wedding. ‘Our wedding’ sounded so good to me.
“Excuse me a minute.” I approached the DJ. “Please make an announcement that we’re going to hold the dinner until we have a status update from the fire department. In the meantime, let the dancing commence. And, please, start with a slow one.”
He made the announcement, which triggered a wave of applause from the rest of the guests. Everyone appreciates our volunteers. The DJ cued up “When a Man Loves a Woman”.
“Olivia, may I have this dance?”
“You need to ask?” she commented with a beautiful smile.
After the song finished, Phil came over.
“John called. It was just a small grass fire. They’ll wrap it up quickly.”
I passed the word on to the DJ, who relayed it to the crowd. Dancing continued.
Tom
I was getting a beer when Samantha joined me and ordered a beer for Brian and a glass of red wine for herself.
“Tom, I haven’t seen you for a while. How’s life? How’s Portland?”
“Actually, I just accepted a job offer in Greensboro. I’m moving at the end of the month. Right now, I need to find a place to live.”
“Would you consider Appleton.”
“Sure, but not with mom. As much as I love her, I’m old enough to want more privacy than my childhood bedroom offers.”
She laughed.
“Brian and I moved out of the apartment above the store a couple of years ago. If people ran out of something they ‘needed’ after the store closed, and saw the apartment lights on, they’d come knocking. Once the word got around that we’d answer the door, the frequency of knocking got out of hand. We moved a mile out of town. Much better for us. Our tenant just advised us he has taken a job in Massachusetts and the apartment will be available on the first.”
“I have to be back to work in Portland Monday. Any chance I could see it tomorrow morning?”
“I don’t see a problem. I’ll talk with them in the morning and give you a call with a time.”
We exchanged numbers and Samantha left. I stayed near the end of the bar sipping my beer.
Chris
I had been keeping my eye on Shiloh, who was constantly taking photos. I walked over and asked, “How are you doing?”
“Surprisingly well. You were right, I blend into the background, just one of the support staff.”
“Great! I’ll be close by if you need anything.”
With that, I headed for the bar and ordered a beer. While waiting for it, I noticed the good-looking guy, about my age, standing near the bar. I approached him and said, “Hi, I’m Chris.”
“Tom. Olivia’s son.”
“Derrick’s employee.” No ring on his left hand. “You seem to be here alone.”
“I am. Recently out of a long-term relationship. I’ve Just accepted a position in Greensboro and I’m moving back to the area at the end of the month. Are you here alone?”
“Sort of.”
“That’s rather vague.”
“I came with Shiloh, the photographer. I also work for her, part-time, when not working for Derrick. Also, I live at her house. We drove over here together, but are not ‘together’ otherwise. Since we’re both unattached, and there’s not many others our age, would you like to share a table with me. Shiloh may or may not join us.’
“I’d like that.”
The firefighters began trickling back and the DJ kept the tunes flowing.
“Care to dance, at least until the meal service starts?”
“Yes. It’s been a while for me.”
“It’s like riding a bike. It doesn’t take long to get back in the groove.”
We tipped our chairs to save the table, including one for Shiloh if she wanted to join us. A fast song was just finishing as we hit the dancefloor. Elvis’s “Can’t help falling in love” started. Very slow, very romantic song. Tom held me tightly as we danced. We were very compatible dancers. When it ended, I couldn’t believe how good I felt. How excited. The DJ announced that dinner was being served. We returned to our table as the servers were bringing out food. I caught Shiloh’s eye and nodded towards the seat we saved. She shook her head ‘no’. I gave her a thumbs-up which she returned.
“What was that all about?”
“Shiloh’s real business is an organic farm she owns. That’s where I work part-time. She’s just getting back into photography and this is her first gig. I asked if she was going to eat. ‘Not now’. Was everything going okay? ‘Yes.'”
Tom seemed satisfied with my answers. Sometimes you can be truthful while also while also being discrete. Our conversation returned to what newly made acquaintances cover when they are learning about each other. When dinner was over, the cake was served. In keeping with their desire for informality, there were no speeches. Weddings would be so much more palatable if others followed suit.
The DJ started up again, some couples hit the dancefloor while a few approached the newlyweds to offer their congratulations and made their departure. Tom and I danced several numbers until we needed to rest. I had periodically kept my eye out for Shiloh, who was currently approaching the head table.
Shiloh
‘You’ve gotten through today. You can do this.’ she thought.
“Olivia, Derrick, congratulations. This was a lovely wedding. It seemed to go well, other than having that fire interrupting it. At least that happened after your vows.” They both laughed. “I’ll have a PowerPoint slide show organized for you to look through after you return from Hawaii. You can pick and choose whatever you want printed and I’ll do that.”
“Thank you, Shiloh. We look forward to seeing them.” This from Olivia.
Olivia
An older couple approached our table.
“Jack, Mary, I’m so glad you came. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel.”
“Olivia, you deserve a little joy in your life. Earlier tonight, we caught up with both Beth and Tom. They’ve turned out to be remarkable young folk. You should be so proud of what you did for them.”
“Derrick, these are Jack and Mary Tyndall, Greg’s parents.”
“Pleased to meet you.”
“So, how are you two?”
“Slowing down. We’re thinking about selling the farm. When we started farming, there were a couple of dozen active dairy farms in the area. Now there’s just two of us left. Not much profit in farming now-a-days. Used to be, all you needed was a strong back and a good work ethic to farm. Now, you practically need a college education to fill out the paperwork and decide which advice will do you the least harm.”
“Now, Jack. It’s not that bad. You’ve always loved it. My brother’s heart attack was a bit of a wake-up call for us. We need to slow down, enjoy our golden years.”
“Uncle Sam? I’d lost track of him. Is he…?”
“Okay. Retired now. Actually, Derrick, you know him. Sam Davidson. You bought his lawn care business. Small world, isn’t it.
“Small indeed.”
After some more catching up, they moved on.
“Derrick, I hadn’t thought about Uncle Sam in years. I never made the connection.”
Shiloh
I turned and left. Many more guests were leaving. I could see the caterers picking up. I went over and retrieved the meal I had asked them to save for me. I packed my equipment in Chris’s car. Near me, the DJ was also packing up. He approached me. ‘Don’t panic. Deep breaths. He’s not going to hurt you.’
“Hi! I’m Erik Dexter. I do a lot of weddings and other events where the client often desires a photographer. My best and most reliable one just moved to Boston. Greener pastures and all that. You moved through the crowd well, discretely positioning yourself for good shots. Would you be interested in possibly working with me?”
‘Not what I was expecting.’ I relaxed, but only a little. ‘Be brave. Respond.’
“I’m just an amateur. I have a full-time job. This was a one off, just a favor for Olivia and Derrick.” I surprised myself. Not so bad. Interacting at the farmers markets helped. I used to be able to do this.
“That was a hell of a favor. You had me fooled that you weren’t a professional. May I give you my card, in case you change your mind?”
“Sure.”
He dug one out and handed it to me, finished packing his equipment in his van, and left, giving me a wave as he passed by.
Chris
I saw Shiloh packing her equipment in my car, saw the DJ approach her and engage in a conversation. I was ready to run over if necessary. That didn’t seem to be the case.
“I see Shiloh is all packed. She worked the whole time and hasn’t eaten yet. I should probably get going.”
“Can we exchange numbers?”
“I’d like that. Maybe we can get together after you get settled here.”
We did, I walked over to my car and we headed home.
“I saw you talking with the DJ. He didn’t seem threatening, so I kept my distance.”
“He wasn’t. He asked if I was interested in working gigs with him. I told him I had a full-time job. He did give me his card, so the door is still open. A little.”
‘What progress she is making.’
Derrick
Evidently both Tom and Beth had booked rooms at the same motel. Whether a conscious decision on their part, or not, it gave us privacy as the only occupants of the house tonight. Olivia and I headed inside.
“I need to use the bathroom. I didn’t want to use the port-a-potty in this dress.”
“Can you hold it for another minute? I’d like to get a couple of photos with my phone.”
“I’ll be right back. I’ll keep the dress on for you.”
While she was in the bathroom, I saw Phil, Sherry and crew depart, the last to leave. I turned off the outside lights, including all the temporary ones. Olivia returned with a smile on her face.
“Much more comfortable. Where do you want to do this?”
We found a suitable neutral background and I fired off several shots.
“Thanks. You look spectacularly elegant. The image is seared on my brain., but I wanted something on my phone. When I’m eating lunch, I can pull them up and be reminded at how truly lucky I am to have met you.”
“I’m not ready for bed yet. How would you like to change into something more comfortable and unwind a bit?”
We headed into the bedroom.
“Would you unzip me please?”
We both undressed. Olivia let her hair down. She hadn’t worn a bra under her dress. Her panties were the same shade of green as her dress, but much more provocative than she normally wore. We hung up our clothes, pulled on sweatpants and tees and returned to the living room, sitting on the couch.
Because the first leg of our flights left Manchester airport at 6:00 AM, we booked it for Monday, giving us all day Sunday to recover, drive to Manchester and stay at the airport hotel. Thus, we could stretch out this evening with no ill effects. Neither of us had had much to drink at the reception.
“I happen to know there’s a bottle of Champagne chilling in the refrigerator. Are you interested in sharing some bubbly?”
“That sounds perfect.”
I grabbed two glasses and the bottle, popped the cork and poured the Champagne.
“Can we toast ourselves? Here’s to us, Mrs. Powers.”
“To us, Mr. Powers.”
We each sipped some, placed the glasses on the coffee table and moved together for a kiss. Or two. Make that three. We started reminiscing about our day.
“Who would have predicted a fire interrupting our wedding? That’s what everybody is going to remember about today.”
“They’re going to remember you in that dress. I sure am.”
“Fortunately, it was just a grass fire. Life in Appleton.”
“I noticed Tom spent most of the evening with Chris.”
“Yes, they were inseparable. It’s going to be nice having him living closer.”
“Did you know that the photographer was going to be Shiloh?”
“No. Chris described her as a friend. I’ve seen her as a frequent visitor to Dr. Kate.”
“Today, she was an entirely different person from the first time I met her.”
We engaged in some more small talk and finished our glasses of champagne.
“I expect we may have breakfast guests. Probably we should head to bed.”
We both attended to the nighttime bathroom necessities, Olivia first. When I returned, she was lying on the bed, in just her panties. Several candles provided the right romantic atmosphere. Following her lead, I removed my sweats and tee, but left my boxers on and got in beside her.
We rolled on to our sides, facing each other, inching together until we had maximum contact from chest to toes. I traced my fingers around her face, softly caressing her cheeks, her upper lip, her chin, her neck. I moved my fingers to her hair, gently massaging her scalp. I moved up a bit, showering her forehead with kisses, nibbled on her exposed earlobe, kissed the exposed side of her neck below her ear. Moving inward and upward, my mouth approached hers. I caressed her lips with the tip of my tongue, just barely touching them. I lowered myself to give her a full-on kiss, holding it for several seconds. Gradually my tongue teased her lips apart, engaging in that time honored tradition of tongues dancing with each other. By this time, she couldn’t miss my erection pressing against her. She pressed back. I backed off so we could breathe, then moved in again. More teasing, followed by a second round of French kissing, equally as intense as the first. Then a third.
We had been together long enough for Olivia to know what to expect next. She rolled onto her back, while I moved into the missionary position. Now, I know that some people are always looking for something ‘new’, always looking for that perfect ‘something’. I would argue the counterpoint: if you found something that works for you, and works well, it’s worth repeating, refining, enjoying. Everyone is a product of their own experience. This is Olivia’s and mine. It works for us. Very well, I might add.
I started kissing Olivia’s neck, slowly moving down, covering her upper chest with kisses. I nibbled around her left breast with lip-covered teeth, avoiding touching her nipples. I lowered my open mouth to just above her nipple, exhaling a long, warm breath. Backing off, I traced around her areola with my finger, avoiding her prominently engorged nipples, but lightly touching the bumps on it. Moving on, I flattened my palm and teased the very tip of her nipple by slowly circling it with my palm, barely touching it. Olivia was beginning to squirm.
Repositioning myself, I teased her nipple with the tip of my tongue. After a bit, I again covered my teeth with my lips and trapped the base of her nipple as I squeezed it fairly hard, while simultaneously alternating sucking on the nipple and teasing it with my tongue. While I was concentrating on her nipple, I was also circling my belly against her vulva. All of this stimulation nearly always produces a small orgasm for Olivia, as it did tonight. I moved off to her side to let her recover. After a suitable time, I continued lying off to her right, giving her right breast similar attention, while squeezing her lips, her clitoral hood, and gently massaging her mons. Orgasm number two, slightly more powerful.
We lay side by side until her breathing returned to normal. I started moving down to expose the charms those sexy new panties were hiding.
Olivia
“Not now, big guy. My turn. Why don’t you prop yourself up against the headboard.”
He moved up into position. Like, I suppose, most guys, Derrick enjoys a good blowjob. Sometimes, he closes his eyes and seems to delight in the stimulation I’m giving, not knowing what’s coming next. Other times, he watches intently. I make sure to make lots of eye contact during those times.
I had no experience with oral sex before I met Derrick. Now I enjoy giving blowjobs as much as he enjoys receiving them. The thing about Derrick is that he’s an incredibly un-selfish person and lover. He’ll take his time to make sure I’m satisfied without any expectations of my returning the favor. Of course, with a guy like that, that’s all the motivation in the world I need to make him feel as good as he makes me feel. It’s a mutual satisfaction relationship.
Tonight, I slide his boxers off, lay down between his legs, his erection hard and pointing at the ceiling, right in front of me, and look directly at his eyes as I lower my head towards his little one. I close my lips and gently suck in all of his pre-come. I swirl my tongue around his glans, maintaining a slight sucking action. I open my mouth a little and let some accumulated saliva slide down his shaft, followed by closing my left hand around his base, using the saliva as lube while gliding my hand up and down him, incorporating a gentle twisting motion. Meanwhile, my tongue has continued swirling around his glans, moving from corona to the tip and back. While still making eye contact, I lower my mouth and start bobbing my head with increasing speed, adding more suction, moving my right hand to cup and message his balls. I pick up the pace of everything until…
“I’m almost there.”
Derrick always warns me when he’s close, always gives me the option of how to finish. Another thing to love about him. I think, like many women, I don’t particularly like the taste of semen. On the other hand, he always tries to satisfy me, succeeding virtually every time. A couple of seconds of semen in the mouth is not a big deal.
I cupped his balls, feeling them begin to retract towards his body. I increased my hand action on his shaft, taking as much of his penis into my mouth as I’m comfortable with, and felt the throbbing start. Several pulses later, he began to soften and I let him fall out of my mouth. We never lost eye contact.
He started moving down the bed., while I moved up towards him. We rolled onto our sides and embraced. We kissed. Derrick never had any qualms about kissing me after I give him a blowjob. Another trait I love about him.
“I really want to make love on our wedding night. If you do that, I’ll probably fall asleep. I’m pretty sure Beth, Michael and Tom will be over in the morning, just not sure what time they’ll get here. I’d much rather be showered and dressed when they arrive.”
“Well, we have two problems. You still have your sexy panties on and I need to recover.”
“You take care of the panties and I’ll take care of you. You’re still young and I know for a fact that you have a quick recovery capability, especially with a little help from me. In case you were wondering, I left them on because I thought my new husband might like to remove them.”
I could feel they were wet, sticking to me. Derrick slowly moved them down, exposing me. I heard him inhale deeply, followed by a couple of quick licks from bottom to top. He moved back up and lay down beside me.
“You were too tempting. I couldn’t resist your enticing scent.”
I snickered as I moved down the bed and took his penis back into my mouth, sucking fairly hard. Mimicking him, I licked his penis from base to tip. He began to respond, I kept at it and soon he was pointing to the ceiling. Again. I smiled at him.
“Told you so.”
Swinging one leg over him and lowering myself until his glans was touching my lips, I rubbed him along them until they parted and he slipped in. Pushing down, I fully engulfed him. We slowly started the age-old dance that millions of lovers have engaged in. He cupped and massaged my breasts, tweaking my nipples as I moved up and down. Our pace increased. Derrick was thrusting up more. I felt myself approaching release.
“I’m getting close. How about you?”
“Right with you.”
I reached down, scooped up some of my moisture, and fingered my clitoris, accelerating my rush to the finish. My vagina began its rhythmic contractions. I could feel Derrick’s throbbing pulses as he orgasmed. I continued for what felt like a full minute after he stopped. Talk about experiencing The Big ‘O’.
Derrick is such an altruistic person, which extends to our lovemaking. It’s nearly always a transcending experience for me. I love succumbing to the afterglow, always enhanced by our cuddling in our post-orgasmic bliss.
Tonight, my emotions were supercharged by all the positive feelings the day had unleashed in me. I could almost feel the oxytocin, my orgasm had induced, charging through my body. Never had I felt this high, physically and emotionally. The last thing I remembered was falling forward on to his chest.
Sunday
I have no recollection of how Derrick got me under the covers. I awoke to him spooning me, his morning erection tucked against my cheeks. Unfortunately, my full bladder took priority. When I returned, he was up, his erection was down. By the time he came back, the moment had passed.
By unspoken agreement I headed to the shower while Derrick made coffee and changed the linens on our bed. I started breakfast while he showered. He grabbed the dirty linens and towels and started the washer. One of the many things I love about Derrick is how thoughtful he is, even about small things. We’ll have clean sheets when we return from Hawaii. He joined me for breakfast. We finished just as Beth and Michael arrived, followed shortly thereafter by Tom. I made breakfast for them. It was another pleasant day, with the sun raising the outside temperature enough to be comfortable, so after they ate, we adjourned to the porch for more coffee and conversation.
Beth and Michael said their goodbye’s and left for Portsmouth. Samantha called and Tom left to look at the apartment. Derrick and I cleaned up the kitchen, threw the laundry into the dryer, finished packing, and headed for the Manchester airport. We took my old truck as Derrick wasn’t comfortable leaving his pride and joy, his ’67 Mustang GT convertible, at the airport parking garage. I wholeheartedly agreed.
Tom
I met Samantha at 11:30. Brian covered the register while we went upstairs. The place was already empty.
“Our tenant was able to move into his new place early, so they loaded the U-Haul yesterday afternoon and left for Boston.”
The apartment was bigger than I needed, but quite nice. We discussed price. Much less than I was paying in Portland.
“I’ll take it. How much should I write the check for?”
“Just the first month’s rent.”
“Really?”
“Tom, I’ve known you since practically the day you were born. I went to school with your dad. Just the rent.”
I gave her the check and headed for Portland.
Monday
I arrived for work a few minutes early and went into my boss’s office to give my two weeks’ notice. He flew into a rage. Phrases such as “kid’s these day’s’, ‘no work ethic’, ‘no allegiance’ filled the air, culminating in:
“You’re fired. Get out of here right now.”
I guess he forgot how I saved his ass earlier this year and never got credit for it. I went down to H.R.
“I heard everything. We all did. Technically, since he fired you, you’re eligible for unemployment compensation, But, since I know how smart you are, I’m guessing you already have a job lined up.”
“Yup. I do. It pays more than this and I won’t have to put up with his tirades anymore. I was just trying to give him two weeks’ notice.”
“I’ll make sure you get paid for the two weeks plus any accrued vacation time. Also, since you’ve been here over two years, your 401K is fully vested. Where should I send the checks?”
“I don’t actually have an address yet. Probably safest to send it to my mom’s address.”
I gave it to her.
“Best of luck, Tom.”
“Thanks, Cindy.”
I picked up the personal items from my desk, stopped to buy some packing boxes and headed home. With a few phone calls, I had a U-Haul reserved for Tuesday afternoon, a flatbed trailer to tow my car and a couple of buddies coming over to help load the heavy items after work. A promise of beer is always a good bribe when you need help. I called Samantha, explained my situation and she said they’d have the place ready for me Wednesday. She also arranged for her 18-year-old son, Seth to help carry the heavy items, after he got home from school.
Wednesday
Other than the sleeping bag I used last night, everything else was loaded. I hit the road and arrived in Appleton by late morning. By the time Seth got home from school, I had everything besides the heavy furniture moved in. As a single 24-year-old, I haven’t accumulated a lot of furniture yet. When we finished, I gave him $50, which made his day.
Thursday
The day was spent unpacking and setting up the apartment. Because Samantha and family had lived here for several years, one bonus was the place had a washer and dryer. No more weekly trips to the laundromat. Since my departure from Portland was unplanned and hurried, the laundry got a good workout while I was doing other things. By evening, I was pretty well settled in, including stocking up on food and other necessities. Nice to have the store downstairs.
Friday
I called my new boss and explained what happened in Portland and that I was already relocated.
“I wondered if you might like me to start early? Otherwise, I have nothing to do between now and our agreed-on start date.”
“Tom, that’s music to my ears. When were you thinking of?”
“Monday?”
“Great!”
“I’ll be there.”
By afternoon I was running out of busy work, so I decided to wander around town. A few blocks from home (I’m calling it home already) I stumbled on to the farmer’s market. In the second row of stalls, I immediately recognized Chris. Remembering that she worked on an organic farm, it made sense to see her at a farmer’s market. After her customer left, I approached her table.
“Tom! What a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here? I thought you were in Portland for a couple more weeks.”
“Circumstances changed. I start work in Greensboro Monday. Chris, I enjoyed meeting you at the wedding. Would you be interested in getting together sometime? Dinner maybe?”
“Sure. Look, customers are backing up. I’ll call you tonight.”
Shiloh
The market was busy today. Good weather brings out the crowds. Chris had handled a steady stream of customers. I noticed her talking with one of the wedding guests. I handled the overflow. The more I did this the easier it got. The next customer stepped up to the table. The DJ from the wedding.
“Hi Erik.”
He looked up from his purchases.
“Hey, photographer lady. I never did get your name the other day.”
“Shiloh.”
“So, this is your other job. I can see how it would keep you busy. I’m still looking for a photographer if you find yourself with some available time.”
“I’ll think about it.”
I rang up his purchases. He grabbed one of our brochures as he left.
Chris
I noticed Shiloh talking with the DJ. The first time it was quiet, I asked her about it.
“That was Erik. He’s still looking for someone to work gigs with him.”
“And?”
“And, I said I’d think about it.”
It got busy again, cutting off further conversation. Erik? First name basis? Thinking about it? Oh, Shiloh, you have come so far.
***
“Tom. Sorry I couldn’t talk more at the market. What did you have in mind?”
“Dinner. Is tomorrow too soon?”
“We have a market in the morning, so tomorrow evening is good. Do you like Thai? There’s a restaurant in Greensboro that’s supposed to be good.”
“Thai’s perfect. What time should I pick you up?”
“Easier if we meet at your place.”
“I did rent the apartment over the Appleton Store. Meet me here at 7:00? I’ll make reservations for 7:45.”
“Sounds good. See you then.”
Saturday
Tom
Chris arrived right at seven, wearing new black jeans and a long sleeved, three button polo in deep burgundy. Only the top button was undone. Very attractive. I gave her the nickel tour of my apartment and we departed for Greensboro.
“Time for Thai” was relatively small, maybe 50 seats. As it was a Saturday night, it was nearly full. After we were seated, we both ordered a Singha beer and Shrimp Tempura to share as a starter. Chris selected the Pad Thai, while I chose a bowl of Tom Kar soup. We sipped our beer while waiting for the food to arrive.
“So, how did you end up back in New Hampshire, Tom? It seems like Portland is a great place to live, especially for someone our age.”
“Three reasons. Portland really is great. Under different circumstances, I’d still be there. My girlfriend was cheating on me. A friend saw her and another guy coming out of the local ‘no tell, motel’. If she wanted to break-up, fine, but be honest about it. Sneaking off to screw someone behind my back was a deal breaker.
Second, my boss. He was the classic manager who took credit for subordinate’s accomplishments, but never took responsibility for any problems. He was great at self-promotion and somehow had the ear of management. Bugs universally show up in any new release. Howard would write a ‘fix’ that created other problems. Invariably, one of us would pull up the prior version, fix the original bug, and move on. Howard, of course, would get the credit for the release.”
I related my experiences on Monday.
“It was my first job after graduation. Initially I was enamored by contributing my input to the company. It took a while for me to realize Howard was the reason there was such a high turnover in the engineering department.
Last week I was contacted by a headhunter about the job in Greensboro. I was receptive to moving on. Since I already had arranged to take Friday off, to drive here for mom’s wedding, I made arrangements to interview there. I immediately liked the people. I’ve always liked Lake County and this area. Appleton has decent high-speed internet so I can always work from home if we get snowed in. Besides, I got to meet you. Mom’s may turn out to be the best wedding I’ve been to.”
That brought a small blush to Chris’s face. Food arrived. Conversation lapsed while we ate. More small talk while we enjoyed a cup of green tea. We were both quiet on the way home.
“Would you like to come up?”
Hesitation on her part.
“You can say no. Always.”
More hesitation, after which:
“I’d like to. Please, no expectations for tonight. I’m not ready… yet.”
Intriguing response. We went up, headed into the living room and sat on the couch., she to my right. Space between us.
“In other circumstances, I’d offer to sit and relax with a beer or glass of wine. Tonight, I think alcohol may be an inappropriate option. I always keep green tea on hand. Interested?”
Chris
“Yes, please.”
While he was in the kitchen, I pondered the best approach to take to the conversation that needed to happen. He returned with two steaming mugs with teabags steeping, saucers and spoons, napkins.
“Cream, sugar, honey? I have them all.”
“Unadulterated is fine with me. Tom, may I ask you a very personal question? If it’s too personal, say so.”
He clearly didn’t know where this was going, but replied immediately:
“Ask away.”
“Were you and your girlfriend living together?”
“Anita. Yes. I thought I was in love. Maybe I was, but she wasn’t. My turn. Why?”
Here comes the cliché that nobody wants to hear, but it fits the situation. My situation.
“We need to talk.”
“Chris, if you want to…”
“I want to… I need to talk. This is hard to admit to. I’m 22, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never had sex.”
I had never admitted that to anyone else. I wasn’t sure what Tom’s reaction would be. He slid closer to me and pulled me into a hug. A comforting hug.
“I don’t know how to respond to that. I like you, Chris. Sex can be wonderful part of a relationship, but a relationship can’t be based only on sex. I’ll not hurt you or push you to do anything you don’t want.”
This was all said in a near whisper. He released me and we both reached for our tea. Somehow, a sip of green tea was the perfect neutralizer for the moment. How best to explain this to him?
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I’m a healthy 22-year-old. I have desires, needs. It’s been a lack of opportunity. Growing up on the farm, my sex education started early. We had cows, we had a bull, at times we used A.I.”
A puzzled look crossed his face.
“Not what you’re thinking. Artificial Insemination, not Artificial Intelligence. Farmers used the term long before the tech world co-opted it.”
He laughed.
“We had the normal complement of dogs and their puppies, cats and their kittens and I raised rabbits for 4-H. I was observant. There’s a reason for all the rabbit jokes. I had the knowledge, but not the opportunity. I can’t speak to others’ experience, but I really had no time for a social life. There were chores before school, after school, seven days a week. I don’t regret my upbringing, but it was time to move on. I didn’t get a chance to go to college, so no opportunity there. Since I’ve been here, I’ve worked 7 days a week, so again no time.”
“You could still go to college you know.”
“At my age? Get real.”
“UNH assigns freshmen their roommates. Charlie spent 4 years in the Air Force prior to starting college. Therefore, he was about your age. We stayed roomies for all four years. He lent a maturity that benefitted me. Four years age difference between, say, 12 and 16, is significant. Not so much between 18 and 22. You should not dismiss it out of hand.”
“We can have that discussion another time, that is if we’re still talking after tonight.”
“We will be, if I have anything to do with it.”
That gave me a little confidence to keep going.
“I wasn’t totally without opportunities, just not many. I did give a couple of hand jobs, two to be precise, in a car. Same guy both times. He groped my breasts, but nothing else. Nobody has been inside me. I’ve never given a blow job, not really sure about them.
When I saw you at the wedding, I was immediately attracted to you. Slow dancing with you got me all tingly. You’re so easy to talk with. You’re smart, handsome. I don’t have any religious reason for saving myself for marriage. I hope….. you’ll want to fuck me. Tonight.”
Tom
Whoa. This is not anything that I expected when the evening commenced.
“First, I don’t want to fuck you, not tonight, not ever.”
She started to rise and it looked like she was going to cry.
Angrily, she said, “I need to leave. I thought you liked me.”
I reached out and pulled her into a hug. She resisted.
“Let go of me. Now, Tom.”
I held on.
“Please listen. I promise I’ll let you go in a minute. Promise.”
“Opening up to you was not easy. I know you’ve had sex with Anita. What’s wrong with me? Am I not good enough for you, what?”
Loudly I said, “Chris! Stop! Let me explain.”
She stopped struggling, but the tears were flowing.
One of my professors used the technique of lowering his voice when he wanted to make an important point. I was still holding her tightly.
I whispered, “I don’t like the term ‘fuck’ and don’t use it regarding sex. If you’re around me long enough, particularly if something goes unexpectedly wrong, you’ll hear me using it as an expletive. In that context, it’s only a spontaneous expression of surprise. I like you, Chris. Our attraction is mutual.”
I released her, grabbed one of the napkins and dabbed at the tears still running down her cheeks. I leaned in and kissed her forehead, causing her to shudder. I picked up her tea, handed it to her, picked up my own and took a sip. She visibly relaxed.
“But you said…”
I held up my hand in the classic ‘Stop’ position. It worked.
“I said I didn’t want to ‘fuck’ you. Still don’t. That doesn’t mean I don’t desire you, want to make love with you.”
Her tears had stopped, but their tracks were still wet. I used the napkin to dry them again. She turned her head so I could reach her right cheek. I kissed her forehead, lowered down a few inches and kissed her on the lips, gently, briefly. I sat back, more upright, but still close. I took her left hand in mine and squeezed gently.
“You’re confusing me.”
“I think of ‘fucking’ as just a pair of genitals, doesn’t really matter whose or where or how, very often with the sole purpose of the guy ejaculating. Sometimes driven by lust, sometimes it’s a financial transaction, sometimes it’s a one-night stand, sometimes the result of too much alcohol, sometimes it’s revenge on a partner. Lots of possibilities, but the commonality is that it doesn’t involve commitment. The whole experience is genital centered.
Having sex moves everything up a couple of feet, to the brain. The participants have more desire for each other. It involves someone you like, have common interests with, wish to be around besides in the bedroom. It’s an activity involving the genitals, but a lot more.
Making love moves the center down to the heart. You’ve bonded with your partner, there’s passion, desire, intimacy. The relationship is whole. You accept each other, flaws and all. I’m sure some would point out the heart doesn’t function independently, and is controlled by the brain. I’d just say, this is my opinion, it works for me. They can live with their own.”
“Wow, Tom. Are you sure you’re an engineer? That sounds like a philosopher.”
Now it was my turn to blush a little.
“Yeah…well…”
Time for more tea. Unfortunately, it had cooled down.
“Do you want yours reheated?
I headed for the microwave and returned with two steaming cups.
Chris
What a night. My emotions had been on a roller coaster since I walked in the door.
“Tom, I like you. I’d like to get together again, if I haven’t scared you off.”
“Hardly.”
“It’s getting late. I should probably leave.”
“Are you sure you want to drive? You’re welcome to stay tonight. No strings attached. The sofa pulls out to make a bed.”
“I’m okay to drive. Now. Thank you. I do need your bathroom. Beer, two cups of tea.”
“You can use it if you paid attention on the tour and can find it.”
I lightly punched him on the shoulder.
“Ow!”
“Wimp.”
He was holding my jacket for me, helped me into it. Hugged me. Kissed me. Kissed me again. Again, this time with his tongue separating my lips. I could feel him hardening against me, evidence that he was seriously getting interested.
“My strings are fast becoming un-attached. I should go. Now.”
I left. I could feel how wet my panties were as I walked down the stairs. Tom followed me down and stayed there until I was in the car and headed home.
Thursday
Susan had called last night to let me know that Derrick and Olivia were back. They had a red-eye flight that got them to Newark Wednesday morning. With the wait for their connecting flight and the drive from Manchester, it wasn’t until late afternoon before they reached Appleton.
Thursday was a normal day for me. We had cleaned up after dinner. While Shiloh was putting Sierra to bed the land line, the business number, rang.
“Would you grab that?”
I did.
To the phone, “Just a minute. She’ll be right back.”
To Shiloh, “It’s for you. Erik Dexter, the DJ.”
She took the phone and I went up to my room.
Shiloh
“Hello, Erik.”
“Shiloh, I wasn’t sure if I could reach you. I got this number from your brochure. I’m in a real jam and hope I can beg a huge favor.”
“Go ahead.”
“I need a photographer Saturday morning. I told you my primary one moved to Boston. My second choice is out of state at her cousin’s wedding. My other photographer was all set until a few minutes ago. Her parents were t-boned by a red-light runner and were airlifted to Dartmouth-Hitchcock. She’s on her way to the hospital. I don’t have any other back-up.”
“We have the market in Long Lake Saturday mornings. Let me put you on hold while I see if Chris can handle it alone.”