It is early Saturday morning, and I am sitting in my home office. I have just finished answering all of my email, and am thinking a little about my life. My wife passed away many years ago, but my life has not been lonely. Our children are grown and have successful careers of their own now. My oldest son, Brad Jr., is successful in the mid-west. His latest email included some anecdotes about my grandson, and I had to remind my son about the times he had done the very same things when he was that age. My youngest boy, Jeff, has finally realized his dream to become a Major League ball player. He plays left field for one of the west-coast teams, and is becoming a star of the diamond. Chris, my daughter and middle child, has become successful as a financial consultant. She even helped her old dad to become financially independent. Following her suggestions I was able to retire early, and now at 55 I no longer have to punch a clock. I also don’t have to worry about money, and I can spend my time acquiring, maintaining, and re-building unique cars. Some I sell to other enthusiasts and some I add to my own collection. I have become an accomplished restorer and collector.
I stand on his doorstep wondering what am I doing here. Why have I chosen Brad to be the first one I re-connect with? I almost turn to leave, but I realize that I have to start someplace, and it’s ridiculous to be afraid of this man. I push the button and wait.
“What will he look like after all these years,” I wonder?
The doorbell rings interrupting my thoughts. I wonder, “Who can be calling this early on a Saturday morning?”
I don’t look to see who is at the door, but when I open it my heart stops and my breath catches. Katrina, a young woman I thought I would never see again. Her hair, still like fine-spun gold, is cut short making a golden helmet. The crystal blue eyes I remember so well for their laughter, impishness, and intelligence. But there is something more in the eyes. There is an adult awareness as well as a slight sadness. The face is still beautiful with high cheekbones, soft and unblemished skin, but a few tiny lines about the eyes are now visible. A lovely mouth and full lips that I know are oh so kissable. Her clothes are like those I remember from when she was the teenager from down the block a bulky sweatshirt over baggy jeans. The clothes prevent an update on her figure, but that is not important. Katrina is here.
Brad stands before me with the doorknob in his hand and a stunned look on his face. At first I think I’ve made a mistake coming here. Then I realize the look on his face is one of surprise and amazement, not anger. He hasn’t changed that much. The rich brown hair has a little more gray in it, but not that much. The tanned face is the same the lines just a little deeper. The brown eyes, wide with surprise at the moment, are the same. I know they are very expressive of his emotions I’ve seen it. The body is still strong and lean. All together still a very handsome man. I decide to bring him back to reality.
“Hello, Brad.” Her voice jolts me.
I realize that I’ve been holding my breath. I gulp air and reply, “Katrina, what a wonderful surprise.”
“Can I come in, Brad?” she asks with a smile that warms my heart.
I’ve been gawking like a teenager and completely forgotten my manners. “I’m sorry,” I reply, “Please, come in. I was going for coffee. Would you like some?” I step aside for her to pass and close the door.
“I would love some coffee,” she says as if she is desperate for some.
I let Katrina lead the way to the kitchen she knows my house as well as a member of the family. She and my kids spent most of their childhood going between our house and hers. I pour the coffee while Katrina settles at the table. As I sit across from her she sips her coffee. Her eyes light up and she smiles as she says, “You remember how I like my coffee.”
“That’s one of my best skills. I remember how people like their coffee,” I reply.
For the next two hours we catch up on each other’s lives. My side dwells mostly on my kids, my retirement, and my cars. Katrina’s side is much more poignant. I know some of it because Katrina and Chris have kept in touch over the years, as friends will. She fills in the blanks and the details. ” I studied for, and became, a computer engineer, and met my husband at my first job after graduation. We had two children, Matthew and Sarah, and I started my own consulting business at home to be with the kids. We were a happy family for 5 years. Then I lost my husband to a traffic accident. I stayed there a while working and taking care of the kids. Unfortunately, I worked at home and my life had revolved around the family. The only friends I had were John’s from work, and none had become close. I decided to move back home to start over. I’ve been back about 18 months, which have been filled with finding a home and re-establishing my business in a new place. That part of my life is finally on an even keel, and I decided that I had to re-connect with the people I once knew. You were the first on my list.
I find that I can still tell this man anything, and I unburden my heart of many of the izmir escort bayan weights I carry there. Some of these details I have told to no one else. I find that telling them is cathartic for my spirit.
While Katrina brings things up to date I try to concentrate on her words, but my mind keeps wandering back in time. I remembered the 18-year-old young woman that came to me looking for her sexual identity. That led to a relationship that lasted for about 4 months. The relationship was intensely physical, but an emotional attachment had also formed. It had been my idea to end the relationship when she left for college. I had often thought of her over the years with great fondness and even love in a way. To have her back in my house and sitting across from me dumps a set of emotions on me I would never have dreamed of. I suddenly feel complete and content for the first time in a long time. These emotions take me by surprise since I didn’t know they were missing. I also feel that this is no way for me to be thinking. I’m not sure what Katrina’s presence here is about, but I’m certain she is not interested in a 55-year-old lover.
I find my mind slipping to some of the memories of my previous times with this man. I also find my body tingling with the memories of the pleasure we had given one another. It’s hard keeping focused on what I have to say, but I manage to tell the whole story.
When Katrina is up-to-date she sighs and looks at her empty coffee cup. I rise to refill both our cups, and turn back to her. “Katrina, I’m glad you’ve come to see me. I would like to continue getting re-acquainted, and if you’re still in a mood to talk we can continue out in the garage. Is that ok?”
“Sure,” she replies as she stands up.
Katrina knows I like to work on cars. She turns and heads to the garage attached to the house carrying her coffee.
“No sweetie,” I say. “This way.”
I lead the way through the sliding glass door that lead to the rear deck, then across the deck and down into the yard. As we cross lawn to the rear of my property Katrina sees the large barn-like structure I had built there.
“What’s this,” she asks? “You didn’t say anything about keeping horses here.”
“Well, I guess they are horses in a way.” I reply. “I told you that I am in to full time car collecting and restoration didn’t I?”
“Sure,” she said. “But I thought you meant in the other garage.”
“No, I out grew the garage several years ago.” I say this as I unlock and open the large doors that lead into my display area and workshop.
I flip on the lights and hear a gasp from behind me. Katrina begins walking slowly down the center lane of the display area. Her eyes are large and her mouth slightly open as her head goes from side to side taking in all the gleaming paintwork before her. I walk beside her, and she is like a child walking through the best toy store in the world. My personal collection has risen to 20 in number. All are classics and from several different eras. She stops at a low-slung blue and white number and points. “This one I know,” she says.
“I should think so.” She is pointing to the Shelby Cobra GT that had carried us on our first date. We had also shared each other’s bodies on its hood one night while on a nearby mountain watching the stars. I quickly banish that thought to the back of my mind.
I remember that night long ago when I shared my body with him. The tingles return and I shiver with the memory. An old fire is kindled in my belly that I thought was lost to me forever. I force myself to continue my inspection of the beautiful cars.
The last two cars on either side are two of my favorites. The one to the left is a Jaguar sedan in British racing green. The one on the right is a Ferrari GT 350 in Ferrari racing red.
“Do they all run?” she asks.
“Of course they all run,” I reply a little indignantly. “Quite well in fact.”
“What are you working on now, Brad?”
“Come on. I’ll show you.” I go to the garage door in the wall at the back of the barn and lift it. Inside is my large workshop. When we walk inside I flip the light on. There in the center is my current project. It is a 1968 Shelby Cobra Mustang.
“Brad, it’s beautiful.” She says.
The car is dark green with light brown leather interior. I’ve been putting the finishing touches on it for the past few days. It’s just about finished.
“Is this the latest addition to your collection,” she asks?
“I wish it were,” I reply. “It’s a commission from another collector. When he found her, she was in sad shape. He asked me to have a look to see if it was restorable. I told him it was, and he asked if I would restore it for him. The rest is history.”
“I’m fine tuning the engine. You can help if you like,” I say. “Can you still tell the difference between a box-end wrench and a crescent wrench?”
“Try me,” she says.
For the next couple of hours Katrina passes tools and reads meters while I do the hands on work. She hasn’t lost what I taught her years ago, and is still a good assistant. We work well together.
I enjoy working with Brad again. I marvel at his expertise escort izmir as he works the tools and the engine. This time together is re-establishing the bond we once shared, and I wonder where that will lead.
I’m washing my hands after we put everything away when Katrina says, “Brad, I need a favor.”
I realize that I want this man in my life again. I have been searching for a way to do that when I have an inspiration.
I suddenly realized that after all these years I still can’t deny her anything. “You only have to ask, Katrina.”
“As I said before, I’m trying to re-establish a life here. Trying to see the people I knew and fit in again.”
“I can understand that, Katrina. What can I do to help you?”
“Well,” she looks away like a teenager unsure of herself, ” my high school class reunion is in two weeks. I thought that would be a way to see some of the people I used to know. I had resigned myself to going alone, but I think I would prefer to go with someone.”
I was totally unprepared for what came next but said, “Is there something I can do to help?”
I summoned all my courage to ask the next question. “Brad, would you take me?”
Once before, a long time ago, this same young woman asked me a favor that stopped me in my tracks. I see that she is still capable of doing it. That experience long ago, and those that followed immediately after made this time easier, but it still takes a moment before I can answer.
“Katrina, I would be honored to escort you to your class reunion.”
My heart leaps, as it hasn’t in a very long time. I can hardly contain myself, and I know my face is glowing.
I watch Katrina’s face light up with a beautiful smile. The next thing I know she has her arms around my neck giving me a big hug. I wrap my arms around her and hug her back. I also feel her body next to mine and realize that her body hasn’t changed much either, and the sweatshirt and baggy jeans are hiding a treasure trove of beauty.
After our hug Katrina backs away and happens to look at the clock on the workshop wall. “Is that the right time,” she asks?
“Yeah, sweetie. It is,” I reply.
“Oh God. I’m late. I was supposed to meet momma 15 minutes ago. I have to run.”
“Go ahead. I have some things to finish here. You know your way out. Get going.”
She reaches up and kisses me on the cheek, then runs from the building saying, “I’ll call you in a couple of days with details.” And she is gone. My day suddenly feels less than it was a few seconds ago. I go back to my business.
I felt light of heart and light of spirit as I ran for my car. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. Not since before my husband died. That seems like such a long time ago all of a sudden. I put the car in gear and speed out of the neighborhood.
The next two days are very busy for me. My business is still in the bud stage, and I’m trying to get it to grow again. There are staff meetings, and meetings with clients. I’m able to keep my mind on business most of the time, but there are times, especially when I’m at home, that thoughts of Brad creep into my mind. Thoughts of what he had meant to me, and what I had meant to him at one time play on my mind. The strength of those feelings and the strength of the passion we shared keep coming to haunt my thoughts. Since the death of my husband I haven’t thought of another man in this way, even though some have tried to make me feel that way.
Two days after my visit to Brad I received the details for my class reunion in two weeks. The usual get re-acquainted to-do, the home coming game, and the dinner dance. I decide to handle the first two by myself, but I need Brad for the dinner dance. The phone is in my hand before I realize it. His phone rings 6 times before he answers.
I have not been able to get Katrina out of my mind. Ever since her visit she has totally occupied my thoughts. It’s only been 3 days but already I’ve begun to think I only imagined her visit, and am desperate to hear from her again. I’m under the hood of one of my cars as the phone rings. I reach it on the 6th ring.
“Hi Brad, it’s Katrina,” she says.
“Hi sweetie. How’re things going,” I ask?
“Everything’s fine Brad. And you?”
“Just waiting for you to call.”
“Oh, I just found out today. The reunion dinner is 2 weeks from Friday. Is that ok?”
“Let me check my calendar,” I say mischievously. “Gee, it looks like I’m free that night, but I seem to remember a date for that night.”
“You better remember Mr.” She replies just as mischievous.
“Well then, what time would you like to be picked up?”
“I’ll be ready at 7:00.”
“I will be there at 7:02. Does that meet with your approval, mam?”
“Yes. That will do nicely. I’ll see you then.” She gives me her address and hangs up.
I whistle as I finish up in the garage. Later I realize that it will be over two weeks before I see her again. I hope I’ll be able to last that long.
The next two weeks are very busy for me. I have not told Brad, but I’mspending most of it out of town on business. There are out of town clients I need to meet to izmir escort discuss projects my firm is working on. The business is too small for a large staff, so I have to handle meetings like this myself. On the second trip I find the dress I’ll wear for the reunion dinner. I like it, and I hope Brad will too.
My daughter Chris and her husband have come to town on business and brought the kids. I am busy being a grand father for a good part of the time Katrina is gone. I’m always glad to see my grand kids, but this time they occupy me so I’m not a nervous wreck by the day of the dinner date.
The morning of the date with Katrina dawns a bright and clear early fall day. There is crispness in the air as I walk to the barn. Once inside with the lights on I walk down the center aisle. I stop in front of the Ferrari and walk slowly around it. The decision is made before I finish the circuit. Nothing but the Ferrari will do for transportation tonight. I spend the rest of the day cleaning and tuning. By 4:00 PM I’m satisfied, and go in to get ready for the evening ahead.
I’m at my desk early this morning and working like a demon. I clear my desk by 3:00 PM, and check with my secretary to see if there is anything else that needs my attention. There isn’t. I tell my secretary I’m leaving early, and anything that comes up can wait until Monday. My mother is picking up the kids at school, and keeping them for the weekend. I make it home by 4:00 and start preparing for the evening.
I’ve felt the anticipation for this day building for some time. After I undress for my bath I take a minute to look at myself in the full-length mirror. I look at myself with a critical eye. My face is still very pretty, while my figure has changed a little I decide it’s not half bad either. My breasts are a little fuller than they used to be, but they don’t sag and are quite shapely. My hips are a little fuller and the tummy not as flat as it once was. That is a result of bearing two kids. But I’ve seen teenage girls at the beach with tummies not as flat as mine, so I guess it’s not so bad after all. My thighs are still firm and well shaped with soft smooth skin. All in all I’m satisfied with what I see.
I step into the warm water of my bath scented with honeysuckle bath salts. The warm water feels wonderful as it slowly covers my body. I lay back and luxuriate for a while letting the bath relax me. My mind wanders a little, and I find myself thinking about Brad. The memories of our previous relationship begin to pass through my mind. I seem to be fixating on the more physical memories, and I begin to feel the sensations of arousal in my body. I have repressed these sensations since my husband’s death, but now they are flooding back. Suddenly I feel hands caressing my body. They are touching me in ways that are familiar yet distant. My body begins to respond to a touch that becomes more familiar each second. I see Brad’s face and his hands are caressing my body, just like they used to. My arousal builds and my body responds by moving toward his hands as they pass allowing for maximum contact. I know that I am building to an orgasm and just as I know that I’m getting close I suddenly come back to reality. I find that the hands I feel are my own, and one is caressing and massaging my breast while the other is between my thighs stroking my vagina and clitoris and it feels wonderful.
I stop for a moment wondering what I’m doing. I haven’t brought myself to orgasm since my college days, then I remember that Brad was the one who taught me how to pleasure myself. That thought makes it seem ok. I lie back in the water and replace my hands. My skin is wet and slick from the bath salts. It feels like satin to my hands. One hand returns to my breast and continues to stimulate the sensitive tissue, the other slides down my tummy through the nest of curls and back to my mons. Fingers find my clitoris and vagina, and resume the motion that will complete my orgasm. One finger caresses my clitoris and causes shivers to tingle my body. It plays around then begins to stroke the nubbin in earnest raising my level of arousal to new heights. I hear my breath quicken as my hips begin to move increasing the stimulation of my hand. The stimulation becomes too much to bear and an orgasm washes over me with such force that I scream out in pleasure. My hips are thrashing beneath the water as my body tries to continue the pleasure just released, and now both hands are between my thighs as I hump against them in the final throes of climax. My body seems to vibrate with the intensity of my orgasm.
Out of breath I collapsed back against the tub, and continue to stroke my body as I calm from the intense orgasm I just experienced. My breathing finally returns to normal, and with it rational thinking. I realize that tonight will be very important, and the reason hits me like a truck. I’m still in love with Brad James. The love I shared with my husband was everything I wanted in life. I know I would’ve been completely happy spending the rest of my life with him. Fate, however, had different plans, and my husband has been taken away from me. Now, the only other man I have ever loved is taking me to dinner, and I know that I still love him. Though I’ve not seen anything definite, I’m pretty sure Brad still loves me. Tonight I will let Brad know, in no uncertain terms, that I love him and my door is open for him and only him.