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My Life Between Virginity and Celibacy - Part one

A simple photo on a friend's page opens a floodgate of memories spanning back fifty years.

Dear Reader,

What follows is an accounting of fifty years of my life as far as my lovemaking and sex life is concerned. I’ve tried to recall this in an honest manner with recollections of the good, not-so-good, and the painful missteps along the way. What started this was seeing a photo on a new friend’s profile page. Sadly, she has disappeared from my friends list. That photo so reminded me of the girl I first loved and wedded, and started me on this journey back through time. The floodgates of emotions and feelings were opened with a simple photo.

I frequently will start a note or comment with a ‘You Wrote,’ and this is no different. What my friend did in a subtle way was to encourage me to really line out my story with some of my philosophy on love, life, and relationships woven into the story. Because of my age and tendency to be long winded, it may get rather long. I’ll do this in two parts to keep it somewhat reasonable in length.

My friend had written, “For some insane reason I have this undying desire to document my sex life and bring it to light for others to enjoy.”

I had responded, “I’m really sure I’ll enjoy seeing your stories brought to light and especially so if I know the ‘back story’ and that it is true.” I told her also how much one of her photos reminded me of my first wife. It got me to thinking about my sex life starting five decades ago. She encouraged me to write this.

This is my story for what it is worth. It is my life between virginity and celibacy and is a journey through time for me through the last fifty years up to the present time. Names have been changed for obvious reasons, but otherwise this is a true story.


Part one:

I guess the best place to begin a story is at the beginning. I didn’t date much as a teenager but I did have some female friends and occasionally would go out with one or the other on a movie date, church function, or school ball game. They were not what you would call girlfriends per se. There was nothing sexual about these few dates back in high school. I don’t know how honest the sex talk was with my few male friends, but I tend to think there was a lot of braggadocio there.

I met my first wife, Fran, while I was in my freshman year at college and she was a pretty girl that was tall and blonde with a tall hairstyle typical of the day in the early to mid l960’s. We dated for over a year before marriage and fell in love. The temptation and desire for ‘completing’ our love was very strong indeed. But somehow or other, we managed to always have one of us keep our underwear on when we would be making out and loving on one another. It was our mutual desire to ‘save it’ for when we were married whether it be to each other or someone else.

If kissing was anything more than just a polite peck on the lips was first base, we advanced to second base after about the fourth date. We were sitting in my car in her driveway and I just had to feel her breasts, and carefully moved my hand up her side and onto her breast. Yeah, I was a horny guy, wasn’t I? They were so firm and yet so soft even through her sweater and blouse. It would be another couple dates before I could slip my hand under her danged bra and feel her nipple harden to my finger touch.

As you might guess, when I eventually did get to see those beautiful breasts was when I also kissed and tasted them for the first time. That happened in her living room on a Sunday afternoon when her parents were both out for the afternoon. It took a lot of restraint on my part to keep from vigorously devouring them and to keep from making a mess inside my briefs and pants. Oh my god, they were beautiful to see, gently caress and to kiss, and especially so as she began to push them out for me after she began to get hot. I knew that Fran was special and that I should treat her with all tenderness and a lot of respect.

Part of my poem, “Finally You Cum,” is reflective of my thoughts and feelings when I first slid my hands down inside the front of her panties and felt that crinkly bit of pubic hair. Fran had her hands on me too, through my pants. WOW! That alone almost made me lose it. We were at a drive-in theater and my car had bench seats front and back.

That was the beginning of some long sessions of me feeling and playing with her sexual center. Other times after she finally got brave enough, she would get my cock out to fondle and feel it and squeeze and stroke me until I had some release. We would oftentimes bring each other to an orgasm two or three times a night.

One other specific memory I have of Fran was when I was home sick in bed one weekend and she came over to visit with me. We had been dating for quite some time and my parents liked her and kind of suspected that we would eventually be married. She came upstairs and sat on the edge of the bed and talked and eventually laid down beside me. We talked and I began to gently rub her arm and just caress her. After a bit, I had pulled her loose dress up enough to get my hand down to her warm sex and she seemed to me to actually feel hot down there. She seemed to me to be much warmer to the touch than usual. I convinced her to let me place my cock between her legs as she still had her panties on. Oh FUCK! This was as close as we had ever gotten my cock and her pussy together in any sort of physical contact. I somehow managed to reach down and pull her panties to one side and let my cock rest against her bared pussy. I can close my eyes and still feel her pubic hair tickling my cock head. As much as we wanted to go ‘all the way’, we refrained from actual penetration, but the heat and the feeling of her pussy and pubic hair on my hard cock was just too much. I ‘lost it’ , and she got a pretty good dose of my cum on her leg and on her pussy lips and pubic hair. We were a bit scared about an accidental pregnancy until she had her next period about a week later. I swear I can close my eyes and feel that sensation to this day over fifty years later.

The opening line to the song “Jackson” describes in a way just how we finally got married. We were hot for each other and full of lust and love. We eloped. She didn’t realize that was going to happen when she came with me to my last week of summer school. I got her a room in a B & B that catered to single girls who came to town to visit with their boyfriends.

When I suggested we get married I had to do some tall talking to convince her, but she consented and we were married on Friday in a Justice of Peace office with a few friends we had called in as witnesses. We did not tell our parents, but we were of age and in love.

I had plans to visit a few other colleges in the eastern part of the state and this would be our honeymoon. That evening after we had a nice meal on a very limited budget, we retired to our motel room. We were both nervous and yet anxious to be able to finally not worry about keeping her panties or my briefs on while courting and playing with each others sex. Believe it or not, even though we both knew what was going to happen and were anxious for it to finally happen, we were both a bit shy and timid with each other on our wedding night.

I took a quick shower and pulled on a clean pair of briefs and wrestled down my painfully hard cock. While she took a bath, I crawled in bed under the cover and started reading a magazine to get my self back under control. She finally unlocked the bathroom door and asked me to turn out the lights. I turned out the overhead light but left the bedside light on low. She had on a nice, thin negligee and crawled in under the cover beside me. We were nervous and still a bit scared. After some “I love you” type comments were exchanged, we began to kiss, to cuddle, to caress, to feel, to stroke, and I tasted her nipples, and we finally got to the point where we were going to ‘share’ our virginity with each other. Yes, we would ‘share’ as we were both virgins and the giving and sharing of our virginity was the sweetest, most loving thing we could do for each other.

I had my two slim, slender fingers in her and guessed she was suitably ready when I finally got to put my cock head against her portal and know it would not have to stop there. I well remember easing in until I felt some resistance and stopping until she said she was ready, and then pushing on in slowly past that point of resistance.

To this day, I can still feel that sensation on my cock head as her hymen stretched and then gave way to my erect and very hard cock. It took a bit of getting used to it, but she finally let me get it all the way in. Today, I would say I was in ‘balls deep.’ The feeling and sensation on my cock was beyond belief. I had no idea that such feelings could be transmitted to the brain through one's cock being inside a hot, wet pussy. Our first session ended all too quickly as I emptied myself in her while we both were crying and laughing with real tears of love and joy. She was so pleased to see a bit of blood on me and on the bed. This was her blood gift to me from sharing our virginity on our wedding night.

We were two kids in love and lust when we married and began the journey on our own to learn of the mysteries of love and sex. I was twenty and she was just shy of nineteen when we married.

It was after a couple years or so when we decided to start a family that things got to be much more sexual and fun. It took several months to get her pregnant. We tried many different positions and she made sure to ‘not’ immediately go to the bathroom after our lovemaking just so things would stay juicy inside a bit longer and she hopefully would get pregnant. Those long legs sure felt good wrapped around my back. They were not just opened wide, but wrapped around me tightly. I sometimes had difficulty thrusting as she had me held so tightly. I well remember we went through a spell of her turning around on her back and putting some pillows under her ass so that she could prop her feet on the top of the headboard. Yes, those were fun times full of great memories and she ‘learned’ how to be more orgasmic and I was full of juice and loved giving it to her at the same time as she orgasmed!

After the baby came, our sex life predictably slowed down some, but was still nice. I learned that eating pussy was more than just a cursory kiss on those lips. She had continued to give her version of blow jobs, but they were never really to completion. For whatever reason, oral sex just wasn’t that important to us and we didn’t often do it.

We moved from our hometown area for me to go back to school. I did the housekeeping and most of the daily cooking in addition to my school work. She had gone home the weekend of Valentine's Day while I stayed behind and did some painting. When she returned, she told me she wanted me to leave and my heart was beyond just being broken. It was shattered into a gazillion pieces. I literally worshiped the ground she walked on and had never given a thought of leaving our marriage or even so much as looking at another woman.

She was a good woman and I just know to this day, over forty years later, that she was faithful to me and I had been faithful to her. And to this day, I really don’t have a real satisfactory answer to “why?” My immediate concern was her happiness and what was best for our baby. I spent the next day cleaning the apartment. I also put on a slow crock pot meal and washed and dried the dishes. I made time to get her car serviced, and then withdrew from school. I went home to my parents.

She had been by to see them over the weekend and told my Dad the marriage was breaking up. That entire experience left scars and wounds on me that have never completely gone away even to this day. That was five and a half years of what I thought was a good marriage and I truly loved and cherished her and never treated her with anything but respect and tenderness. I went to some counseling on my own, searching for answers as to what I might have done wrong. She never said anything to me about counseling for herself. She just needed me gone! I learned the hard way that young, grown men can go beyond crying and weep … often unconsolably.

This was 1971 and during the early summer of that year, my oldest brother who was eighteen years older than me, invited me to come visit with him in Virginia. This turned into a suggestion that I look for work in that area and stay with him and his family. I really needed to get away from my parents even though I knew they were concerned about me. I consented and eventually found a decent job and a place to live on my own.

Also, I met a young woman who was the daughter of one of my brother’s friends. She was about four or so years younger than me. Doll was divorced and had a son about the same age as my daughter. Her marriage had broken up because of mental abuse. I think there was some physical abuse also. We started seeing each other and sharing our background stories.

As might be expected, over the course of several weeks we became physical and did some rather serious kissing and touching. I think we both were lonely and desired some intimacy, but were a bit reserved to just jump into bed. I’ll say this though, she certainly enjoyed giving oral attention to me and she tasted like a sweet, juicy watermelon to me. I truly learned that eating pussy was nice and especially so when it was as sweet tasting as this one. However, for the longest time we refrained from consummating our growing attraction and having sexual intercourse. In the back corner of my mind, I was still hoping that my wife would want me back and I wanted to be able to say to her that I had not slept with any other woman in the meantime.

That changed one evening when she came over to my place early prior to our going out. I had to take a shower after work and when I walked into the bedroom to dress, Doll was lying on the bed in just her bra and panties. By this time in our relationship, we were both familiar with what the other looked like in a semi-nude condition. She had certainly seen my cock many times while giving me some oral attention and I had seen her breasts and pussy more than just a few times also. We were certainly not just total strangers. I dropped my towel and laid down on the bed beside her for some cuddling and kissing, and eventually pulled her bra and panties off so we could totally enjoy our oral love making uninhibited.

I had no idea it was possible for a woman to produce such copious amounts of juices from her pussy. Her pussy flowed and I labored to keep up with drinking her down. As you might guess, we got carried away and once again my cock head was about to slowly slide into a willing and juicy, wet pussy. This was just the second woman I had ever made love with. The surprising thing to me was that my cock didn’t fall off cause I was having sweet, slow, tender sex with a woman that was not my wife.

Another surprising thing to me was that Doll somehow felt different inside. I wondered if every woman’s pussy would feel a bit different inside? It seemed like I could feel the subtle differences inside her pussy with the ridge on my cock head. We managed to have a simultaneous orgasm for our first time together, and we left a big wet spot on the bed spread after a repeat performance! Did I say she was juicy and did I say she tasted good on my tongue? Did I?

After that first time of lovemaking, we continued to enjoy one another’s body with having intercourse and neither of us hesitated to initiate lovemaking. Doll would often give me BJ’s on her own when it was possible and I could at least sneak a good feel of her warm and wet sex. We even had sex in the front bucket seats of my car across the center console. That was awkward, but fun.

Summer turned into fall and I was given a transfer to another city about two and a half hours away. I had mixed emotions about it because of this young woman, but I think we both knew that what we had together was as much a convenience to us as anything. Doll also knew that I just could not make any commitments to a permanent arrangement because of my separated marital status and my responsibilities to my daughter. I certainly didn’t want to run the risk of being hurt again and I just was not sure of being able to remain in a committed relationship with her if Fran should change her mind and wanted to continue our marriage.

I moved the weekend after Thanksgiving and left with an aching turmoil in my heart. Unfortunately, Doll had also dropped the “L” word on me as I was saying goodbye and I bolted. I was scared for myself and scared for her getting tangled up in another marriage that might not work. In hindsight, and using today’s jargon, we had perhaps become what is called fuck buddies. I think now that I was on the edge of depression then and I was certainly confused. I never saw or talked with her again and I’ve often wondered, “Did I love Doll, or was it just lust?”

I found a Howard Johnson motel that was fairly near my new workplace. I was working for a nationally / internationally known chain of tire and automotive care stores. After a couple weeks of special on-the-job training at my previous store, I had been promoted and was now the office and credit manager at this new location and I started work on Monday morning. I really threw myself into my work and getting to know my store manager and the guys out in the shop. However, I had no place to call home except a motel room, so apartment hunting occupied some of my time also.

At the end of that first week, a young lady came into the store and said her father had told her to buy some tires for her camper. I looked at her vehicle, made some recommendations and wrote up the ticket. During the write up, she said she had a blank check her Dad had given her to pay for the tires. The check was drawn on a large bank in a large city from three states away. I got all the pertinent local information from her in terms of her name, local address, phone number, place of employment and the telephone number there. I also found out that she was a “Miss” and not a “Mrs.” or even a “Ms.” I even got her parents phone number from three states away. I certainly didn’t want to get into trouble accepting a bad check from an out of state bank during my first week in this new position. She sat down to wait for service and I went on about my business, which included checking on things in the shop.

The shop was having a lot of trouble getting the rims off her camper and I was keeping her informed of that also. Each time I walked by her, she would look up and smile and I would smile back at her. The shop finally got through with installing new tires on her camper and she filled out the check and started to leave. I’m not exactly sure what prompted me to do so, but since there was a lull in the store activity, I walked her to her car.

My mind was on the fact that here I was in a new city, living in a motel room, and didn’t know a soul other than the four other people working in the store and shop. I certainly was not looking for sex, as I could always get back to Doll. You can see that I had some problems with that scenario. I quickly thought that the worst thing that could happen if I asked this girl for a date would be a resounding “NO!” and a slap across the face.

With my courage screwed up real tight, I quickly explained that I was new in town and this was the end of my first week. She looked at me with wide eyes and said that she was new in town herself and had been at her job for only a few weeks and didn’t really know that many people. Getting braver, I then posed the question if I might “call her” sometime. Remember, I had her phone number(s) recorded on the check she had given me as well as on the sales ticket.

Bless her heart, her reply was, “I like to cook.”

I assumed that meant a ‘yes’ answer. I then squeezed up the very last drop of moral courage I had and quickly told her that she needed to know up front that I was ‘legally separated’ from my wife in North Carolina and that we had a two year old daughter. This girl then stood there in the parking lot for a long minute with a very neutral expression on her face and finally said yes. I could call her.

Less than a week later, she invited me to her place for a home cooked meal after I got off work. She worked night duty in her work and I of course worked in the daytime. This work schedule would actually prove to be very nice for both of us in the future.

Carla and I started seeing each other on an almost daily evening basis and she did indeed enjoy cooking! I enjoyed good meals that I didn’t have to prepare and then eat alone in my new place. Our work schedules actually worked out for both of us as she would be sleeping during the daytime and we would spend the evening together before she had to go to work and I went home at a decent hour.

One evening we were sitting on her couch and got to openly talking about why my marriage had failed, about my daughter, and how I felt about myself, etc. I well remember just sitting there talking calmly and answering her questions as honestly as I could when she leaned over and shushed me with a kiss. This kiss was different from the typical, usual goodnight kisses we had come to share each evening. This kiss had a special something in it almost like a hunger or a need for something.

After a bit of that, Carla stood and took my hand and led me down the hall to her bedroom. I hesitated a bit as I inquired just how safe this was and was she sure she wanted to do this. I was thinking of the risk of an unwanted pregnancy. I realized that she was trying to seduce me and I probably was not going to resist. We ended up predictably on the bed as we continued to kiss. We kissed even more passionately as I began to feel her breasts, her hips, and slowly felt my way up to her pussy. OH MY! Those kisses were hot and I could tell that her flesh was willing and it was no secret to either of us by now that my flesh was more than just ready. I began to actually hurt and it hurt so good.

In the process of this foreplay, I managed to get her undressed. There was something uniquely special to me to be the one to unfasten and then remove her bra instead of her doing it. I have always enjoyed doing that. It was fastened in the back. Here were a pair of nice, rather full breasts with small, stiffening nipples for me to love on. I loved the taste and texture on my lips and against my tongue as my mouth began to suckle on them. She was inhaling deeper breaths as she involuntarily began sticking them out for my attention. I didn’t tire of this and she didn’t push me away from her breasts.

I then began kissing her stomach and on down further to her thighs. My fingers told me she was wet, as I had first one and then two pressed inside her. I was feeling the uniqueness of this that was the deep seated center of her womanhood. My light nibbles on her inner thighs soon turned more hungrily to kissing and tasting her wet pussy and clit. I was so glad that I had truly come to appreciate the act of eating pussy. I had Doll to thank for that newly acquired taste. I have no idea or remembrance of how I got naked or turned so that she could kiss and suckle on my cock, but I do remember that I rather suddenly felt a rapidly rising urgency to bury my cock inside this woman as deeply as I could and as quickly as I could. My cock head then passed through the third pair of pussy lips it had ever seen and met, and I quickly emptied and relieved myself of a pressure and tormented passion that was deep seated in my core. It seemed like my balls even thanked me.

Later on that memorable evening, I began to question myself about why I had crawled into bed and made love with her. Sure, I was lonely for some female companionship and she had been wonderful company for the past few weeks and I was beginning to gain a little weight from the good meals she prepared each evening. I had been raised to be guarded with my comments about others, but this girl was so different and it had felt so right to talk with her openly and honestly about my broken marriage and even what sort of love life I had had with my wife. I had also explained how I was just not the one to go from one hot bedded woman to another on a casual whim. I just wasn’t that sort of individual and yet I had crawled into bed with this gal and flushed out my balls twice in that one evening with her. Why?

We continued to see each other on a daily and nightly basis and more or less became a couple. We spent some time with my store manager and his new wife on occasions. Our lovemaking got to be better and better and she would not get out of bed in the evening when I arrived. I would let myself in and quietly make my way back to her bedroom and crawl into her bed, naked with a raging hard on pointing the way. Barely arousing from her sleep, she would open her legs and I would just slide on into the bed and into that hot, willing, and waiting pussy of hers that would take me to nirvana.

She had explained to me about Kegel exercises that women can do to “keep it tight” and sometimes I would stop what I was doing and let her literally massage and squeeze my cock with her pussy. That sure felt good! We tried a variety of sexual positions just for fun and games, but it seemed like we came back to the old missionary position most often. I so enjoyed seeing her face as we orgasmed together. Our lovemaking was tender, passionate, and occasionally really vigorous. Sometimes she would take the more active role while other times I would become almost aggressive on my part.

I well remember one particularly passionate night of lovemaking where we orgasmed together twice in fairly quick succession. I was lying between her legs and she had her knees up with her feet flat on the bed. I was lying on top of her and supporting my upper body weight on my elbows. My cock was still in her after emptying myself in an unusually hard orgasm for me. Her pussy was still giving off some mini after-shocks from her orgasm and she was also doing some Kegel stuff too. I got hard again from that sensation and began to slowly stroke inside her, heading for another orgasm. That would be my third for the evening without ever withdrawing. This time I really had to work hard to keep it up and going and her comment about “… what a MAN!” just sealed the deal and I let loose again. This time, I was tired and felt like I had been drained dry. But, believe it or not, in another twenty minutes or so, I was back inside her for the fourth time in one evening and trying desperately to keep going. I was able to stimulate myself with our lovemaking enough to finally drain the last few drops of my juice. Four times in one day or evening had never happened to me before nor since that I recalled. I was really just totally ‘fucked out.’ That evening I stayed in her bed after she went to work because I was too drained of juice and energy to get up and go home. I went to sleep with a smile on my face and wondering just how much more of this could I stand? She went to work all juicy like!

I continued to occasionally have recurring hopes and dreams of my wife and daughter and I becoming a whole family again. But those thoughts were fading some as the conversations with Fran were never encouraging and always just right on the edge of being hurtful. I was determined to at least remain civil for the sake of my daughter and hope for more.

My new love life with Carla was good and bad at the same time. It was good in that here was a young, attractive woman that had made me feel like a man again and apparently truly desired me. It was bad in that it left me with some guilty feelings of not being quite true to my wife. It was almost like I was cheating. Legally, I was a free man to do whatever I wanted except get married before my separation and divorce time period was up. I felt some inner conflicts, but I was also twenty-six years old and enjoying an active sex life and my cock hadn’t fallen off yet because I wasn’t married to this woman. Oh my, but the sex was hot and juicy! Did I say I was enjoying myself in the arms of a loving and caring woman? Did I?

Christmas season came around and presented a bit of a problem for me. I wanted to see my daughter and spend a bit of time with her at my parents home, and I also wanted to spend as much time as I could with this new lover in my life. I got her a beautiful book of love poems and she made me a hand painted plaque with a beautiful sentiment about friends by Gibran. She was not going to go to her home in Pennsylvania, as her work schedule just didn’t allow it. That was about a six and a half hour drive one way. We exchanged gifts, had a wonderful meal she prepared and made soft, tender love with some background music playing. I was as happy as I could be under the circumstances and she certainly encouraged me to have a good holiday with my daughter and folks and assured me she would be waiting on me when I returned.

After the holiday, I began to truly realize that my marriage was broken and that I needed to go on with my life as best I could. Of course I was not going to say or do anything that might prevent me from seeing my daughter. Where was life dragging me? Did I have a future with this girl I was sleeping with? Did I really, truly love her, or was it just a bad case of lust?

Most importantly I wondered if I could ever give of myself completely of my heart and soul and also come to cherish her like I had done with my soon-to-be ex-wife? I had just met her a few weeks ago and yet it seemed I had known her forever. It seemed that I continually pondered the question of “Is it love or just lust?” Was I even capable of truly loving another woman? Would I ever allow myself to be in a position to be hurt again?

One evening soon after the holidays were over, Carla and I were together in bed and having an especially passionate time of it. It seemed I was harder than usual and she was perhaps wetter than usual. We were having a slow going time, but getting maximum sensations on her clit and my cock head. She was squeezing me with her Kegel exercises. We were talking and I was expressing my love and appreciation to her for helping me regain some self confidence and esteem about myself. I just realized that I wanted this woman in my life forever. However, I did not ask her if she would marry me. Not stopping the slow, full depth stroking of my cock in her snug pussy, I asked her if she would be the mother to my children just as I began to empty my balls. We had yet another coordinated orgasm.

At first she didn’t realize what I was asking, but then she kissed me with extra passion and squeezed my cock tightly with her pussy and said, “Yes.”

Hot dang! I was gonna get married again, but it would be some time yet as my separation and divorce time was not over. We celebrated with another round of lovemaking and a larger orgasm. Damn, but my cock and balls sure ‘hurt good,’ and I stayed in her bed again that night instead of going back to my place.

We discussed what to do next as to what kind of wedding, how big or small, and when and where to have the ceremony. And, we needed to tell our parents. She had gone home with me one weekend and had met my folks and they seemed quite pleased to see me happy and they certainly liked her. I had not met her parents yet and here I was asking for her hand in marriage and I was not even divorced yet?

The only real criteria I had about a wedding ceremony was quite simple: (1) a church wedding, as I had eloped the first time and wanted this one in a church, (2) I wanted my Dad as Best Man, (3) I wanted my minister brother to ‘participate’ in the ceremony, and (4) NO TUXEDO! I wanted to wear my own suit! We agreed to a small wedding in her parents church and some tentative dates after my divorce was to be finalized etc. We called my folks and told them our news. They were happy for us and seemed pleased to be getting her as a daughter. My folks have always considered their sons’ wives to be their daughters.

I let her handle her folks, as I had not even met them. Was I apprehensive because her Dad was a truck driver and would I even survive meeting them? Would they even be civil to me? We made plans to go to her home a few weekends later for me to meet her folks and them to meet this ole country boy from North Carolina that wanted to marry their daughter. This would surely be a cultural shock in the making!

Her mom was home when we got there and I had a pleasant visit and even got to use a bit of my Southern charm on her while she was preparing dinner. Her dad was not home yet, as he had been on a long run trucking, but was due in a bit later that day. I was nervous about meeting him since he was a truck driver and all the usual stereo-typical cliches about truckers were floating through my mind. He finally got home and had a funny story to tell about having been stopped for speeding on the turnpike. He told the officer that he was on the way home to meet his future son-in-law and really didn’t realize his speed had crept up. The officer had made some kindly, friendly remark back to him and sent him on his way with no ticket!

Dinner that evening was good and the conversation was light and friendly. It was after dinner … and over desert … that the inquisition began with me. I was asked about a dozen questions some seventeen different ways from Sunday about my background, my marriage, my daughter, my financial obligation(s) towards her, why my marriage had failed, the status of my separation, my anticipated relationship with my daughter and ex-wife in the future, plans for the future with their daughter, and on and on it went. I sat there at the dining room table and answered each question as calmly and honestly as I possibly could. I think I must have passed their test as the conversation finally drifted into the ‘nuts and bolts’ of a wedding. We told them of what we had agreed on and really didn’t want or need anything more. These few things they readily agreed with.

When we left the next day to return to Virginia, I got a warm handshake from “Dad” and a big hug from “Mom” and from her we both got the evil eye look and admonishment to “… be careful.” You don’t suppose they suspected we were sleeping together or having sex, do you?

We soon made another trip to North Carolina to visit with my preacher brother and to try to finalize a date that would meet his schedule and decided on the last weekend in May. My other brother, who initially got me to come to Virginia, was out of the country on a military assignment, but the rest of his family could come. I was going to get married again just as soon as I could after the divorce was final.

Very shortly after the divorce decree was finalized, we made yet another trip to North Carolina so that she could at last meet the little girl in my life who was my daughter. We felt it best that I not just walk in on my first wife and say “… surprise, I’m getting married,“ so I took Carla to an old friend’s house to wait while I went to get the baby. The afternoon was fun and when I returned the baby, I lingered a bit to visit. It was during this visit that I revealed my news, and that was met with shock, and some tears of regret from the woman I had dearly cherished just one year earlier. She hugged me and wished me well. I did not stay long after telling her my news. This time I felt sorry for her, but I just could not offer her any sympathy for her pain. I had a life ahead of me and I was determined to do the best I could with it. But why did I still hurt? Would it ever completely go away?

We started moving Carla from her place into mine, as I had the harder lease to get out of. But we also wanted to keep her place until after the marriage for a place to have my parents stay overnight when they came through on the way to Pennsylvania for our wedding. This was only a single month of double rent to pay. The apartment complex where I lived was also more socially oriented to young adults. We could be happy there.

One night, we were at my place and having a hot session of lovemaking when the phone rang just as I was about to unload again for the first time in several days due to her cycle. It was my Dad calling to see how I was doing, how Carla was doing, what was latest with Fran and the little one, telling me what was going on at home, etc. By now, I had held the phone down so that Carla could hear both sides of the conversation. As much as I loved talking with my Dad, this was certainly not a good time for him to be calling, but we both saw the humor in the situation and worked hard to keep from laughing. Carla was using this time to practice her Kegals to keep me from going completely soft. I had a really difficult time trying to carry on a phone conversation with my Dad and keeping my cock up and hard and stroking inside Carla’s hot pussy.

Finally Dad posed the comment and question of, “You’re not alone, are you?”

I answered, “No, Carla is here and is about to go.”

He said good night, and with that, one more stroke of my cock inside her and I could finally ‘go’ and ‘go’ with Carla on her orgasmic trip. We both had a serious bout of the giggles as we were orgasming and thinking of what had just happened with the phone call. Damn, but that WAS funny! She had indeed been “about to go!”

Our wedding was to be a small affair with mostly friends of her family in attendance and a few of my family. I had my brother who would help perform the ceremony, two sisters-in-law, six or seven nieces and nephews, my parents, and my store manager and his new bride!

Plans were finalized and my parents were coming up from North Carolina on Thursday and would follow Carla and me on up to Pennsylvania on Friday for the wedding ceremony on Saturday. Carla had a nice simple meal prepared at my place and all of us had a good, comfortable visit. She later led the way for them to follow her back to her place for the night. I didn’t get any loving that night, but I figured I might survive!

As a side note here, in my mail box on Thursday was a nice letter from my first wife expressing her best wishes and love for me and wishing us the very best. It was also a letter of apology for having caused our divorce and a lot of pain for me. She admitted that she hadn’t tried enough in our relationship. Had that letter arrived ninety, sixty, or perhaps even thirty days sooner, the outcome might have been different?

I met them the next morning and we caravanned on up the interstate, stopping occasionally for rest breaks, etc. It was late afternoon when we reached our destination and got Mom, Dad and me checked into a motel. Then we went to see Carla’s parents and had a nice dinner and pleasant evening getting better acquainted all around. I did have just about two minutes alone with Carla that evening and could only sneak a feel long enough to dampen my finger tip in her pussy and to lightly squeeze her breast through her clothing.

Damn it all, but I was getting anxious for some loving after having done without on Thursday night and wouldn’t have an opportunity until after the wedding on Saturday afternoon. Horny old guy - that would be me!

All the rest of my family had come in at various times on Friday and gotten themselves settled in the motel, and had a good time catching up on themselves.

Saturday finally arrived and it was a beautiful day. It was a beautiful day to have a wedding. My family and I had a late breakfast or early lunch to kill some time before dressing and going to the church. My brother met the local minister and they quickly hashed out what role each would have in the ceremony. I didn’t really have any input in this conversation as I wasn’t sure of the protocol, but I just was so happy to have my brother be a part of it all along with my Dad.

At the appointed hour, the two ministers, my dad and I assembled at the front of the sanctuary and the music started. I have no clue what was being played, but it sure sounded “weddingly” to me. Finally, the grand musical chord was struck on the organ and I turned to face back up the aisle way to watch as this vision of loveliness came towards me on her father’s arm to the musical notes of the Wedding March.

The ceremony itself was simple and we exchanged our vows. Then one of the ministers made the pronouncement of “… husband and wife, and you may kiss your bride.” Needless to say, I had a heart bursting with joy as I turned to face my wife. Never losing my smile and never blinking my eyes nor losing eye contact with her, I very carefully lifted her veil and folded it back over her head. Still maintaining that eye contact, I tenderly placed my hands on her cheeks and cradled her face as I slowly lifted her face towards mine. I murmured to her that I loved her and that she had made my dreams come true by marrying me. I kissed her with as much softness and tenderness as I could and we both knew and felt our mutual passion for each other at that moment. There were tears of joy on her cheeks running down and I caught them with my thumb. I remember well quickly tasting those tears from my thumb as we turned to march out of the church sanctuary.

The reception was nice and I got to meet some of “Mom and Dad’s” friends. As a sign of the affection I held for Carla’s parents, I had started calling them Mom and Dad before the wedding. Carla, by now, was referring to my parents as Mom and Dad as well. I realize it was kind of confusing, but that’s the way it was.

Our honeymoon was to be a long weekend taken getting back to Virginia. We planned on some touring along the way. We both had to be back at our jobs on Tuesday.

That first night of our married life was in a Holiday Inn about two hours away. After a nice meal, we retired to our room. I picked her up in my arms and crossed the threshold before setting her down on the bed. I kind of remember undressing her in the midst of our rising passion, but I don’t really remember getting myself undressed. I think I had making love on my mind! 

This would also be a night I did something that just had never happened before. I got off the bed and knelt beside it while I took in the sight, sweet smell and taste of her pussy. I don’t believe a thirsty dog would have drank from a pail of fresh water as ready and wantonly as I drank in the taste of this woman. I knew as horny as I was, and as sex deprived as I was because the past two nights I hadn’t made love to her, that it would not take much for my cock to erupt. I wanted to gain a modicum of control first and I wanted to be deep inside her when I did finally let myself go. I wanted to be as balls deep as was humanly possible for me to be and it seemed like that could best be accomplished at the edge of the bed. Did I say I was horny?

Let's just say that for the next couple years or so, it was difficult for me to put on any additional weight. Carla was a good cook and I was a hearty eater. It wasn’t really a problem, it was just that I worked hard and we then made love often and vigorously. I seldom had a night off unless it was for her cycles or sickness or some other legitimate reason. We had fun. We made love and we even ‘fucked’ some too. There is a difference between making love and fucking.

She even went with me to the store one night when I had some paperwork that just had to be done. I don’t remember exactly how it came about, but we ended up in the back room and I had my way with her while she sat on a stack of new car tires. We wanted to do it in the store front on the padded bench where she first sat, but there were just a few too many stragglers passing by to offer us the privacy needed.

I also well remember one Sunday afternoon when we were making love and I was between her thighs and feasting on her juicy bits that I sucked on her clit area a bit too hard and the darn thing kind of popped into my mouth like a ‘hickey.’ We stopped for a bit and I felt bad that my hunger for her had actually caused her some pain and discomfort. Not to worry, though, as she got me off with hands and mouth. Now that sure pleased me.

I got promoted and we had to move sometime during that first year of marriage. That job didn’t work out and we moved back to where we started and I went to work for a ‘dealer’ and not a company store.

Around the two year mark of marriage, we finally started having serious talks about having a baby and I had some real mixed emotions. I had a child that I supported and was reluctant to go that same route again so soon and yet I really wanted more children.

The pills were not renewed for the next month. Oh boy! Could I sire another child? Was my spunk even potent enough considering how often we made love? But I knew that it would be fun trying to get pregnant. I could well recall from a few years previous, some of the antics my first wife and I went through to get her pregnant. I was determined to hold up my end of the process.

After another couple months or so of trying, she got pregnant. We slowed down some on our lovemaking due to morning sickness, etcetera, from the pregnancy. By the time our baby was born, we were now making love only a couple times a week at most. It was good I suppose and we could still get off together some of the time. Life was comfortable for both of us.

It was such a satisfying feeling to have a wife that loved me and to see my two children together for that first Christmas holiday after the baby was born. My parents had brought my daughter up from North Carolina for a visit between the Christmas and New Year holiday to see and meet her baby sister and their tenth grandchild.

When the baby was around two years of age, we decided to buy a home and get out from under paying rent. We found a cute ‘fixer upper’ that we could afford, but the house required a lot of work before we could move in. I learned a lot by doing stuff myself and with the help of one of my bosses to show me what to do. That house project took several months to complete by working on it just a couple or so hours each night.

One night towards the end of this project, we were both out at the house working and I was back in the bathroom doing some painting. Carla came back to check on me and got real cozy with me by giving me a big hug and kiss.

“Honey, you are SO smart,” she had cooed in my ear.

I felt my cock give a little twitch in my jeans as I said, “Thank you.”

“You are so talented with your hands,” she continued. “And you can make and do most anything.” She had a twinkle in her eye and something teasing in her voice as she said this.

“Well, thank you again and I surely do try,” I responded while wondering where this was going.

My cock had pretty well quit twitching and was well on the way by now to being fully hard. ( “Are we going to christen this house early with some lovemaking? Well, what is going to be our bedroom is not cluttered and it does have carpet on the floor,” were the thoughts beginning to race through my mind and caused my cock to sure enough get a hard erection.) I was really going to get laid here and I was getting a big head just thinking about it. A little ego never hurt anybody, right?

“… but you can’t paint worth a damn!” she said.

That quickly deflated my ego and my cock. It made me have second and thirds thoughts about how this evening was gonna end. I put my brush down and haven’t picked one up while inside since then. In fact, “paint” and “Rick” do not go in the same spoken sentence even to this day. I must say that we did get into a little loving after we got home and had had showers, etc.

Life sure enough settled down after we moved in. Yes, we did properly christen the house with some love making but even that gradually declined and was probably due to the familiarity of it all coupled with the day to day humdrum of life and having a baby in the house. There was never much fuss made if one or the other of us was tired or had the proverbial headache. We were down to the once-a-week or so schedule and even at that, it had pretty much become a humdrum thing. IF she had an orgasm by the time I was finished with mine, that was great and if not, there was always the next time. There were no real complaints either way. We would snuggle a bit in bed and do some kissing and I would maybe do the quick body scan with my hands to feel her breasts and pussy, etc. and do a quick taste test of the same parts and pieces. Then it was time to plug in and ride it until I came. Often times I was not really hard, but would be just firm enough to get it in. Neither of us really complained. Was not life supposed to be this way?

To be continued in Part TWO …

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