The Trojan Lasagna

This is the second part of The Trojan Lasagna, picking up at the point where the original left off. It involves older women and a younger man. I suggest you read the first part to get an understanding of the characters.

Fun fact 1: As of this writing, French President Emmanuel Macron is married to Brigitte Macron, who happens to be 24 years older — and a former high school teacher of his. They met when he was 15 and she was 39.

Fun fact 2: English actor Aaron Taylor-Johnson (Quicksilver in Age of Ultron) is 24 years younger than his wife Samantha, and they have two children. They met when he was 18 and she was 42.

Thanks as always to RiverMaya for being my Muse and the writing angel on my shoulder. Thanks also to AzureAsh for being my ‘editor with a thousand eyes’, and to MBR (Mystery Beta Reader) for his oversight and input. As I continually revise right up to publication, any errors are mine.

Full disclosure for all you drag racing historians: Yes, the US 30 Drag Strip closed in 1984; for the purposes of this story I’m invoking poetic license to keep it open two years later.

All sex between 18+ people.

+++++

 

So baby, don’t you worry about growin’ older

 

 

Those young girls ain’t got nothin’ on you

 

 

‘Cause it takes some livin’, to get good at givin’

 

 

And givin’ love is just where you could teach them a thing or two

 

 

– Ronnie McDowell

 

+++++

Fairburn, Indiana — July, 1986

Heading down the road to Terry’s apartment, I tuned in WLS on my car radio to hear an oldie playing from REO Speedwagon, Find My Fortune:

“A restless nature fed my crazy dreams, so I packed my bags in a big limousine

Laughed at the people who were laughin’ at me, laughed and said I’m gonna be what I be

And I’m gone, gone away to find my fortune…”

This was exactly what I was doing. I’d saved up my money and made my college plans. I was on my way.

When Terry heard I’d had a falling out with our parents, being the cool brother that he was, he invited me to stay with him in his one-bedroom apartment and sleep on his foldaway couch. He told me I could stay until I went away to college, or until things cooled off at home, whichever came first.

Since living at home would mean not only would I have to live under my parent’s roof, but also that I’d be seeing Rosalie and her husband coming and going, so no way did I want to stay home. Watching the woman I’d loved so much and the kids who adored me, but banned from being with them was like a knife in the heart. Packing up as much of my stuff as I could under my Dad’s disapproving glare, I loaded up the Galaxie’s massive trunk and moved to Terry’s to start my new life.

While walking away from both Rosalie and my parents had crushed me, the phone number Donna had written on the back of my hand gave me hope. The following Saturday night found me picking her up at her place to take her to a local favorite, The Roundup Steakhouse. Her house was beautiful, a two-story colonial style with big pillars in the front and a circular driveway that curled around a decorative fountain.

I rang the doorbell, and the door opened almost instantly, like she’d been waiting just on the other side. She looked very youthful, dressed in jeans, sneakers, a plain blue blouse and a jean jacket. After giving me a light hello kiss, she said, “Let’s take your car.”

I was shocked that a fancy West-sider like her would want to get in my old beater. I asked her, “Are you sure? My Ford is a hunk of junk compared to your Mercedes.”

As I held the passenger door open for her, she patted my arm. “It may not be as fancy, but it’s got a front bench seat, so I can slide over next to you.” Well, now. It had taken me preparing several meals and reading The Tawny Scrawny Lion a bunch of times to the kids to reach the point where Rosalie began to warm up to me. That was definitely not the case with Donna. She’d made it clear that I wouldn’t need Trojan lasagna to breach the walls of her heart – the gates were wide open! After having my soul crushed by Rosalie’s rejection, to say my spirits were lifted was putting it mildly.

After getting in the car, as I buckled up, she slid onto the center of the bench seat and buckled up next to me. As I shifted the transmission to ‘D’, my arm snaked around the seatback and onto her shoulders, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The warmth of her body pressed against mine, combined with the faint scent of her perfume, almost put me in a trance.

I asked Donna to turn on the radio and when she did, Bananarama’s Venus poured out of the car stereo speakers:

“The goddess on the mountain top was burning like a silver flame

The summit of beauty and love, and Venus was her name”

I quickly glanced at the goddess in the seat next to me, and lo and behold she was looking back! I felt her unbutton the top button of the chambray shirt I was wearing as I reverted my eyes forward, making sure the car stayed to the right of the double white line. As Donna ran her finger along my collarbone she whispered, “I hope I’m not distracting you.”

I swallowed hard and answered, “Let’s just say I’m glad this isn’t my driver’s test. If you were a Bureau of Motor Vehicles examiner, I’d never pass.”

She took her hand away from my chest and laid her head on my shoulder, “You have a wonderful knack for compliments, you know that?”

My brain was so overloaded, it was all I could do to concentrate on keeping 3500 pounds of Detroit metal on the road. I managed to squeak out, “Glad to hear it!”

Once we got inside the steakhouse, we ordered and then had an actual conversation.

Donna kicked things off. “So, seriously Josh, you’ve had a tough couple of weeks. How are you feeling?”

I shrugged. “Still kind of down, but better.” Then I put my hand on hers, and told her, “Actually, being here with you makes me feel a whole lot better.”

Hearing that, she smiled and asked, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you’ve always treated me with respect, like a real man and not a high-school kid. I mean, we’ve always had a positive relationship, and I really enjoy being with you.” Then, remembering more, I chuckled, “Oh, and I’ll be honest, your attention gave me quite a confidence boost that time you accidentally grabbed my butt putting money in my back pocket. Of course, when you snuck a kiss from me on prom night, that was an even nicer surprise.”

She reached up and ran her finger down my jaw line. “I have a confession. I hope I don’t offend you, but the time I grabbed your butt was no accident. I didn’t mean to objectify you, but I’ve always found you to be a delicious bit of man candy. If that wasn’t enough, I watched you cook for Rosalie and read stories to my grandchildren. Not a lot of men would do that. Let me tell you, Josh Lujack, you are one hot number.”

I felt my face flush. “Thanks, Donna. Honestly, I feel the same about you. You’re gorgeous and confident, and any sane man would want you as arm candy.” I didn’t add, ‘me included’ because I didn’t want to seem too forward, but it was the truth.

She patted my cheek, but with affection, not condescension. “You’re a sweetheart for saying so, but I’m afraid you’re wrong. Men my age might initially find me amusing, but they’re usually set in their ways, and decide I’m too independent and adventuresome for their tastes. Plus, my husband Nick’s passing left me independently wealthy. They don’t like that. They prefer women who need their money and will tolerate their patriarchal bullshit to get it. Once they realize I won’t put up with being bossed around, they lose interest and go for young sugar babies who’ll cater to their oversized egos.”

Having said that, she took both of my hands in hers and asked, “So, do you want to talk about Rosalie?”

The rational side of my mind didn’t want to hear anything, but the emotional side sure did, and I blurted out, “How could she take that asshole back after he cheated on her!”

“Only Rosalie can answer that,” she answered grimly. “Since Shithead is the father of her children, I expect that has a lot to do with it. He’s managed to convince her that he’s sincere. To earn back her trust, she’s given Shithead boundaries about where he can go and who he can be with, as well as making him agree to couples therapy twice a week. He’s agreed to everything, and done it practically begging on his knees.”

Experiencing a moment of self-pity, I asked, “So what about me? Am I nothing to her now?”

Donna gave me a straightforward-but-stinging answer: “You and Rosalie have some nice memories, I’m sure, but you have to accept she’s moved on with her life. Shithead may have cheated on her, but now that she’s decided to give him another chance, she’ll never cheat on him. If you’re thinking about getting her back, give it up because you honestly don’t have a prayer. You’re history to her Josh, a museum piece in her mind.”

I took a sip of water to help me swallow the big lump of pride that seemed to be stuck in my throat. Damn it, I thought I’d convinced myself I was done hurting about being dumped. Turns out I was full of shit.

It was only when Donna took my chin in her hand to get my attention that I realized I’d zoned out. “You in there, Josh?”

I shook my head to clear it. “I’m sorry, Donna, for a second there I was…”

“Yes, I know where you ‘was’,” she said softly. “I’m sorry if I was too blunt and hurt your feelings.”

I shook my head, “No, I’m fine, I needed a dose of reality, thanks. Hanging on to memories of her doesn’t do me any good. It’s over and done, and I need to keep moving forward.”

“Now you’re sounding like a motivational speaker. Are you going to start charging me a hundred bucks to hear you speak?” I looked at her, and she was smirking. Despite myself, I started to laugh as well. She’d gotten me good, punching a hole in my maudlin mood by making fun of me.

Still laughing I told her, “You’re terrible,” then leaned over, pressed my lips to hers and kissed her. It felt good at first, then felt even better when her arm went around my neck, holding me to her as I felt her tongue slide back and forth on my lips. I could feel my passion building, until I heard another woman’s reprimanding voice.

“Excuse me, but if you guys keep doing that, your food will get cold.” We broke our kiss off as a scowling waitress put our plates in front of us. We avoided serious talk the rest of the meal, focusing instead on our steaks — done to perfection, I might add. Once we’d finished our main course, we ordered coffee and shared a slice of cheesecake. After I paid the bill, we were off.

With Donna once again seated next to me and my arm around her, it was a quiet ride on the way home. Both of us seemed to be savoring the moment, but each deep in our own thoughts.

The radio was playing the song from the film Rocky IV, Burning Heart by Survivor:

“In the burning heart, just about to burst, there’s a quest for answers, an unquenchable thirst

In the darkest night, rising like a spire, in the burning heart, the unmistakable fire…”

I was no boxer, but somehow this song about being on a quest for answers really got to me. No longer the lonely high school loser, I was now burning inside, thirsting for things I’d never had before. Maybe Donna – this woman who’d encouraged me, boosted my confidence, even made me laugh at myself — was just what I was looking for.

As we pulled into her driveway, after turning the motor off I turned towards her, and broke the silence. “I’ve really enjoyed this, it’s been a really nice night.”

She smirked. “You actually enjoyed getting scolded and judged by a waitress?”

“Actually, I did. I’ve been good all my damned life, and it’s gotten me exactly nowhere. I liked being the bad boy for once, taking advantage of a defenseless widow. If I could afford it, I’d go out and buy a black leather jacket.”

She teased, “Ooooh, yeah, you’d look good in one. And don’t forget the tattoo on your chest. That’ll complete the look!”

Unbuckling both of our seat belts, and took Donna in my arms. “I meant what I said. I liked being a bad boy, and I like being with you. I’d like to do it again if you’ll let me. Can we go out again soon?”

Instead of answering, she wrapped her arms around me and kissed me passionately. I responded in kind, and before long we’d undone the buttons of each other’s shirts as we continued our impromptu make-out session. My dick was so hard by this point a cat couldn’t scratch it. The pictures in my Dad’s Penthouse magazines couldn’t hold a candle to the woman that was right here in my arms.

But when I reached around to undo her bra, she said, “Josh, please don’t.”

I understood that ‘no’ means ‘no’, so of course I stopped. That didn’t do much to ease the throbbing between my legs, but what can a man do? “Have I done something wrong?”

“Heavens no. You’ve made me feel like a damned schoolgirl, but I don’t feel comfortable with you seeing my body.”

Inwardly, I groaned. I felt like a 1500’s Spanish conquistador discovering El Dorado, only to be denied the chance to touch any of the gold! “But you’re beautiful!”

“Thank you, but I have the body of a middle-aged woman. I go to the gym three times a week, but it only makes me healthy, not younger. Every part of me is soft, wrinkled, or both.”

She took my hands and held them to her lips, kissing them. “Believe me, Josh, it’s not you, you’re as delicious as a fresh-baked pie. There’s nothing I’d like better than to run wild over that slim hard body of yours, but I’m ashamed. I absolutely adore you, but there’s no way you could be turned on by what I have to offer.”

“Isn’t that for me to decide?”

“No, I’m making the decision for you. I have to stop this now, before I make a damned fool of myself any further.” She slid towards the passenger side door, buttoning up her blouse. “I’m sorry, Josh, I really am. I only want what’s best for you.”

Saddened, I drove away with Donna’s words echoing in my ears. “I only want what’s best for you,” she’d said. But the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. This was bullshit. I wasn’t a kid living at home any more, I was a man, damn it! I was the one who decided what was best for me. Not my parents, not my high school counselor, and not Donna damned Landecker! From now on, the only person who decided what was best for Joshua Alexander Lujack was Joshua Alexander Lujack, by god!

I turned the car around, and drove back to Donna’s place. I was a man on a mission, and I would not be denied. My heart pumping, I rang the doorbell. After 30 seconds there was no answer, so I rang it again and again, and again. Finally, the porch light went on, and the peephole darked for a moment as Donna looked out.

She opened the door, clad now in a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. “Josh! What are you – ” She got no further. I pushed my way in, then pressed her against the wall with my body and I kissed her. When I stopped, as she caught her breath as reached back and I slammed the door shut.

“You may be older, but I’m still a man, Donna,” I growled, “I decide what’s best for me, not you or anyone else. Me. And like it or not, I’ve decided what’s best for me is being with you. I refuse to just walk away.” To reinforce my point, I kissed her again.

“Josh, this isn’t right, I’m too old for you,” she protested, but I noticed her arms were now encircling my neck. Emboldened, I put my hands on her hips, and pulled them into me as we continued kissing. Leaning down, I began kissing her neck.

“That’s not your decision to make, it’s mine,” I murmured, “and my mind’s already made up. The only decision you get to make is, where do we go from here.” My hands slipped down and caressed her ass. “Am I really so awful?”

Up until now, Donna’s voice had always brimmed with confidence; for the first time, I heard hesitancy. “You’re not awful at all, and you know that. Why won’t you accept the fact I’m too old for you?”

The knot on her bathrobe belt had come loose. I gave it one quick tug, and the robe slid open. She didn’t try to fasten it again. Taking that as an invitation, I moved my hands inside it and caressed the soft skin above her hip bones, and she involuntarily shivered. “Don’t talk to me about age,” I told her, “because what I’m feeling now is the body of a real woman, and I like it.”

I gazed down with wonder at the curve of her breasts revealed by her open robe, but now wasn’t the time to touch them. I didn’t just want sex, I wanted her heart, and based on our discussions I knew while getting the former might be easy, getting the latter would not.

I told her, “Donna, my brother got to where he is by pure luck and personal charm. Everything came easy for him. Everything I achieved — great grades, my academic scholarships, hell, even cooking lasagna — I got through hard work and determination. I set my goals, and achieved them. I busted my ass for Rosalie, but I realize now she showed me who she truly was and how little she actually cared. But since I’ve known you, I’ve seen not just your outward beauty, but your kindness and respect for me.”

I stopped talking and kissed my white-haired fox again, because what I was about to say might make it the last time.

“I don’t want to hear any more bullshit about age difference. You’re the one I want to be with, and I’ll bust my ass to make it work. That’s the way I do things. But as you saw, I made a mistake with your daughter; I went all-in with my heart without her being committed, and she ended up crushing me. I refuse to get hurt like that again. Now that you know exactly how I feel about you, it’s your turn to decide how you feel about me.”

Reluctantly, I pulled her bathrobe closed, gently tying the knot to resecure the belt. Kissing her forehead, I whispered, “When you make up your mind, you know where to find me,” then opened the door and walked out of her house, and maybe her life.

As I fired up the Galaxie and backed out of her driveway, WLS was playing Asia’s Heat Of The Moment, and damned if hearing it wasn’t a sucker-punch to my emotions:

“…what were the things you wanted for yourself, teenage ambitions you remember well?

It was the heat of the moment, telling you what your heart meant; the heat of the moment showed in your eyes.”

I realized I’d lied when I told Donna that I refused to get hurt again. If she decided she didn’t want me, it would feel like being dumped all over again.

+++++

The next morning found my brother and I sitting at his kitchen table and eating breakfast as he gave me the third degree “So what’s the deal, man? Why are you mad at Mom and Dad? It’s not like they sabotaged your relationship with Rosalie.”

“No, but they were opposed to it from the start. They didn’t think Rosalie and I were right for each other. They accused me of being too serious and acting older than I am. I got the distinct impression they were secretly overjoyed when she dumped me.”

“Come on, man, I don’t think they were actually happy about it. That’s not who they are.”

“Come on yourself, Terry,” I snapped, “you don’t know shit, you weren’t there. I appreciate you taking me in, but let’s not kid ourselves. You’ve always been the golden child and had it easy, and you damned well know it. Whenever you fucked up the car, or your grades sucked, or you got in trouble with the Principal, they’d intervene, and you’d come out smelling like a damned rose. Yours is hardly an unbiased opinion.”

I took a bite of toast and sipped my coffee, then added, “You were always the shining star, I was the fucking muddy rock. I was so low-maintenance that our parents didn’t even notice that I worked my ass off to get the best GPA in my class, or that I was valedictorian, or that my SAT scores were the highest in the school’s history, oh no. Instead they complained that I should be going out and getting drunk and be more like you! I suppose if I’d gone out, gotten drunk and knocked a girl up, they would have been perfectly fine with it! But me dating a single mom, oh no, they just hated the idea.”

Terry sat back, a little stunned by my vitriol. Being the easy-going guy he was, he just said, “Well that was certainly intense.” Then he thought for a moment, and asked, “Was she your first?”

“Yes,” I grudgingly answered, “my first kiss, my first…everything.”

“Ouch, dude, that would explain why you’re so upset.” We stopped talking for a while and focused on our scrambled eggs, eggs that I made, by the way. My brother couldn’t crack an egg if it bit him in the ass. Simply making toast was pushing the limits of his culinary abilities, yet another reason why me staying with him was to our mutual advantage.

Finally, he tried to change the subject. “So, who was your date last night, and how did it go? You going to see her again?”

“I’d rather not tell you who she is at this point, because I don’t know if there’ll be another date; that’s her decision entirely. I will say that our parents won’t approve of her. Lately I’ve gotten really good at earning their disapproval.”

Terry said nothing, instead just shook his head in disappointment. Then the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it, that’s probably Janine,” he said, “she’s supposed to come over this morning to show me chair cover options for the reception or something.”

He walked out of the kitchen and a moment later I heard him call out, “Hey, Josh, you have a visitor.”

I walked out into the living room, and there she was, wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a pair of red Converse All-Stars. Despite her white hair being tied up in a loose bun and without makeup to disguise her red-rimmed eyes, she still looked like a million dollars to me. Our eyes locked, and for a moment I forgot how to breathe.

“Promise me that it wasn’t all lies, that you meant every word you said.”

Hearing her say that enabled me to breathe again. I took her in my arms and answered, “I meant every damned word.” I don’t know who started first, but we kissed, long and lovingly. The rest of the world could go pound sand. All that mattered was my dream girl was in my arms, and I wasn’t going to let go.

I’d forgotten Terry was even there until I heard him mumble, “Oh, man, Mom and Dad are gonna lose their shit!”

+++++

In the Mercedes on the way back to Donna’s I admitted, “When I left, I was afraid it was over. What happened to change your mind?”

“It took me all night and a lot of tears to come to my senses and realize the issue was my own fears and insecurities. I got scared thinking if things got too serious, you’d lose interest in me because of my age. I was afraid you just wanted me as a mother figure. After thinking over what you said, I realized I was wrong.”

She shook her head, chagrined by her misjudgment. “You’re an incredibly independent man who needs a partner, not a mother, and I was an idiot for not seeing that. You’re a good man, Josh, a young man with an old soul and a sense of duty, one who’s not afraid of commitment.” I could sense this wasn’t easy for her to say; her hands had a death-grip on the steering wheel.

“I called my best friend Adeline Parker this morning, and we talked for an hour. She told me I was about to make the same mistake Rosalie did. Rosalie at least had an excuse because of the kids, but I have none. Addy reminded me that what I needed — what I deserved – was a good man, one who’ll be impressed by my achievements, not threatened by them.”

“Sounds like I owe your friend Adeline big time.” As far as I was concerned, Donna’s best friend was now my best friend as well. I didn’t know how I’d ever repay Ms. Parker, but at that moment I swore an oath that I’d find a way.

“After my tears ran dry, I came to tell you how wrong I was. I don’t want you to be the one that got away. You said you weren’t going to just walk away, well guess what, Mister Lujack. Neither am I. If a younger woman thinks she can take you from me, she can try, but I’m sure as hell not going to make it easy.”

I gently removed her right hand from the steering wheel, held it to my lips and kissed it. “Never going to happen. You’re never going to need to worry about competing with younger women. I promise I’ll love your body — every curve, age spot, wrinkle, and stretch mark, all of it. But I’ll also love who you are, and how you’ve made me more confident. I hope you realize there is no competition, Donna, you’ve already won the damned race.”

After pulling the Mercedes into her garage and turning off the motor, Donna leaned over, gave me a quick kiss, and gave me instructions: “Wait here in the car 10 minutes, then come into the house.”

I nodded, and promptly focused my attention on the dashboard clock. The little red second hand seemed to be going in slow-motion; every nerve in my body was screaming with excitement, which turned those 10 minutes to hours. I was very anxious but also very amorous, and you’d better believe that when the second hand struck the 601st second, I raced through the door.

On the floor were items of clothing strategically placed like breadcrumbs from the Hansel and Gretel fairy tale. First a right Converse All-Star, then the left; then a white sock, and another, leading to the stairway. Further up the stairway I saw her white t-shirt, and a few feet beyond lay a pair of black jeans. OK, this was getting interesting!

At the top of the stairs I saw a bra hanging on the knob of the first bedroom door. Anticipating the beauty awaiting me on the other side, I turned the knob, gently opened the door, then stepped inside the darkened room. A pair of lacy panties caught me full in the face, while simultaneously I heard her gentle laugh. She quietly called out, “Close the door.” I did; all light vanished, and I was now basically blind. I could hear her moving under the sheets and caught the light scent of her perfume, so I used those my guideposts.

I softly called out, “Where are you?” Then, I heard her playfully sing a couple of lines of the duet You’re the One That I Want from the Grease movie:

“If you’re filled with affection you’re too shy to convey, meditate my direction…feel your way…”

There was only one thing to do, and that was sing the response right back at her:

“I better shape up, cause you need a man who can keep you satisfied

I better shape up if I’m gonna prove that your faith is justified

You’re the one I want! Ooo, ooo, ooo honey, the one that I want..”

Both of us began laughing, and whatever anxiety I felt simply vanished. Somewhere in the confines of this dark room was the woman I desired. My wait was over, and my time was NOW.

I heard Donna moving the sheets followed by the squeak of the bedsprings, and the next thing I knew I was being embraced and kissed by a completely naked woman. I embraced her back, running my fingers down the muscular ridges on either side of her spine until my hands found her ass cheeks. Rather than squeezing said cheeks, I moved my hands further down and cupped them, pulling her nakedness into my still-clothed body.

I only remained clothed for a minute, until Donna broke off the kiss and began removing my clothing. Quickly unbuttoning my shirt, she plucked off me like a leaf in the wind. I felt my belt and zipper being undone, then my pants and shorts pulled down. My erection proved a barrier for a moment, but a quick tug and it sprang free as my trousers hit the floor.

I could feel Donna was now kneeling in front of me, and suddenly my erection was enveloped by a wonderful wetness as my lover took me in her mouth. Although my brain was 95 percent focused on the pleasure she was giving me, the remaining 5 percent took note that while Rosalie had also taken me in her mouth, her oral skills paled in comparison to her mother’s. This was made especially obvious when Donna’s nose buried itself in my pubic hair; she’d taken my cock all the way into her throat! I groaned as my brain’s pleasure center exploded.

I managed to regain my composure long enough to whisper “Donna, I’ve never felt anything like this…”

“I’m just getting warmed up, lover,” she murmured, pushing me backwards onto the bed, then up towards the headboard. I felt her straddle me guiding my hardness into her. “Oh, damn, Josh, you feel so good,” she moaned.

I raised my hands and felt for her breasts. Unable to avoid comparison, I noticed that while they weren’t as large as Rosalie’s, her nipples felt like gumdrops pressing into my palms. Taking each one in between my thumbs and forefingers, I rotated them back and forth like a dial on a safe. This seemed to stoke her internal fires even more, and her hips moved faster as I felt her pelvic muscles squeeze me even more firmly. At this rate I wasn’t going to last much longer. I could sense my balls preparing to release.

“Donna,” I gasped, “I’m so close, you have to slow down!” My words did not have the desired effect; instead, this magnificent woman thrust herself on me harder.

“NO,” she cried out, “I’ve made you wait too damned long, I want to satisfy you!” Leaning forward, she clamped her mouth on mine, our tongues dancing and I couldn’t hold back any longer. Moaning into her mouth, an orgasm ripped through me unlike anything I’d experienced with Rosalie. My mind went blank while I stiffened and shuddered, jetting of my seed into my lover.

Donna dismounted and slipped down next to me, pulling one of my arms over her like a protective blanket. When I’d recovered enough to speak again, I leaned down, gently kissed her and confessed, “Donna, that was the most wonderful, fantastic, amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

She gave a little giggle. “Not bad for an old broad, huh?”

“Not BAD? Oh, far from it! That tattoo we talked about at dinner? I’m definitely getting it now.”

Then, reaching over to the night stand, she turned on the lamp and I finally saw my Donna naked for the first time. I couldn’t help but admire how her pubic hair was the same shade of white as the hair on her head, but surprisingly wispy. Her entire body was feminine and sexy as hell, of course; mindful of my own skinny body, I told her so. “My god, Donna, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined. Do I really deserve you?”

“Josh, sweetie, there’s not a damned thing wrong with you,” she reassured me, “you’re whip-thin, not an ounce of fat on you, and that 7″ you’re packing between your legs is quite satisfying, believe me.”

She traced a finger down my softening member, causing it to stir again. I silently thanked nature for my 18-year-old recuperative energy. Trust me, it’s hard to listen to a naked woman when she’s stroking your manhood, but I was doing my best as she continued, “As for me, though, I feel like a manatee. With all my bulges and wrinkles, I’m just a big white sea cow. The question is, do I really deserve you?”

Unable to resist, I reached down and cupped her left breast in my hand. I remembered Rosalie’s breasts being full and round, with pink areolae and nipples like the tip of a AAA battery. While not as large or as round, Donna’s teardrop shape breasts were full at the top but slightly fuller at the bottom with light brown areolae about 2″ in diameter. My eyes now confirmed what my hands first felt; her nipples were bite-sized bumps like the tip of an AA battery, perfect for putting my lips around. I silently vowed to henceforth do that every chance I got.

I spotted a red bite mark over the left one, and leaned over to kiss it. “Your friend Addy was right. You do deserve a good man, and I want to be him.” My lips gravitating downward, I gently took Donna’s enticing nipple in between them, and teased it with my tongue. She gasped, then took my face in her hands and kissed me passionately, releasing the lust I’d been trying to contain. My cock fully erect again, I quickly pushed my lover into the missionary position and begin thrusting, using long slow strokes.

Since I’d already had my release, I was determined to reciprocate with the divine being now writhing beneath me. “I want you to come for me, lover, please, baby, do it for me. I don’t want to be the only one having fun.” Her eyes were closed, but she responded to my urging by groaning in pleasure.

I slowed down my pace, teasing her now by sliding into her a few inches at a time, then pulling out just as slowly. I felt her shudder at this carnal torture, then she grab my hips to pull me in. “Augggghhhhhh! Don’t tease me, you bastard! Fuck me NOW!” she hissed.

Hearing Donna beg for me really got me going, and I proceeded to plow her like a field. Our lips met, and we kissed deeply as we coupled. I pulled back and asked her, “Do you like this, lover? You’re so hot I can do this all night, is that what you want?”

“Yes — yes — yes,” she gasped, “I want you all night!” Suddenly she went rigid, staying that way as she gasped for breath while her climax ripped through her. After it had passed, she went limp, and I rolled us onto our sides, facing each other.

I stroked her sweaty forehead, gently pushing aside the wild hair hanging over her eyes. I kissed her nose and asked, “Did I make you happy, baby?”

Eyes still closed, she smiled and simply answered, “Yes, very.” I pulled her close in, our two damp bodies now pressed together. My happiness was off the charts, and a rush of new emotions flooded through me. It made me realize Rosalie had just been a shallow crush, while Donna was a lover and my guiding star.

As a teenager, I’d always felt like a piece of me was missing. Donna made me feel whole. Impulsively, I asked, “This may be a little premature, but do you think we could get married after I graduate?”

She didn’t answer at first, instead just laid with me for a few minutes, contemplating her answer. Finally, after taking a deep breath she responded quietly, “Josh, the woman who marries you will be the luckiest girl in the world. I’d love to be that girl, but my OBGYN told me my ovaries were closing up shop. I saw how you were with Etta and Jayden. Knowing how much you love kids, it’d be wrong of me to tie you down and deny you that.”

I’d gotten upset before about Donna making life decisions for me, and now she seemed like she was doing it again. But I realized that this time she really wasn’t saying no, it was her just raising a concern. I asked her feelings and she told me, so I said, “Fair enough, it’s a few years until graduation, so we have time to think it over. In the meantime, I’ll keep loving you, OK?”

“That sounds good.” We exchanged a goodnight kiss, and fell asleep in each other’s embrace. I woke up at 4:23am, according to the glowing red numbers on her bedside alarm clock. I got up and went to the toilet, then came back to bed. The reality that Donna and I had actually made love was sinking in, rendering me unable to sleep.

Overjoyed that a flesh-and-blood angel was lying next to me, I began to caress her wonderful ass while sucking softly on her left nipple. That did the trick. She woke up, and after a barrage of passionate kisses it wasn’t long before we were, in the words of Shakespeare, ‘making the beast with two backs’ once more. Lest you think me a poor lover, I assure you this time I was a complete gentleman, making sure that my lady came first.

+++++

At breakfast, we talked about my leaving for school. After Rosalie dumped me I accepted the scholarship at Chicago University, 90 miles away, scratching the nearby colleges off my list. Not a particularly long drive, but long enough to get me the hell away from Fairburn and keep me from running into Rosalie and the kids.

Now that my relationship with Donna was warming up, I expressed regret at not attending a college that was closer. She wisely pointed out that living on-campus during the week would be best, so I could really focus on my academic performance. She promised she’d drive up on the weekends to make sure I didn’t get lonely. To ensure I wouldn’t forget her – yeah, like THAT was going to happen – she even gave me a copy of a popular illustrated sex manual, The Joy of Sex, to sharpen my skills.

During the summer I’d taken several College-Level Examination Program subject exams at the school. I aced all of them, with the result being credit-wise, I’d be a sophomore when I started. Basically I’d be graduating in three years instead of four. I shared the news with Donna and Terry, but felt a twinge of regret because I couldn’t share it with my parents too. I guess this made us even; they and I were equally disappointed in each other.

It was late afternoon when I walked back into Terry’s apartment, my legs a little shaky but none the worse for wear. My brother looked me up and down, and I can only assume that seeing my giddy expression was what piqued his curiosity and sparked his interrogation.

“So that was her, huh? What’s her name?”

“Donna Landecker. She’s a widow. She’s also Rosalie’s mother.”

Terry slammed his palms down on the table in shock. “No SHIT? Bro, she must be 25 years older than you, are you crazy?”

“It’s 27 years, actually,” I corrected him, “and no, I’m not crazy. She’s beautiful, funny, and makes me feel good about myself. Also, while I may be younger she’s never talked down to me, and always treats me like an man.”

“So what are you, one of her boy toys she spoils with her money?”

“No, I’m her boyfriend – her only boyfriend I might add – and if I ever hear you say that again, you’ll be missing a few teeth in your wedding pictures.” To show Terry I meant business I flicked a punch at his face, pulling it at the last inch so it didn’t make contact.

He flinched, and got the message. “OK, OK, sorry! Speaking of my wedding, since Mom and Dad will be there, will you even be coming?”

“I may be pissed at them, but you’re still my brother. If you want me there, I’m there. I will ask that I not be in the wedding party, though, no speeches or anything. I’d rather be seated in the back and keep a low profile. But I intend to bring Donna with me as my plus-one. We’re together now, I refuse to hide that fact.”

Shaking his head, my brother moaned, “Oh, man, if you bring her, our parents will probably have a shit fit. Did I ever tell you what a stubborn little fucker you are?”

“Yeah, more than once. Being stubborn is what got me my damned scholarships, so tough luck. Why don’t you ask Janine about it? She’s the bride and it’s her big day after all. No way I want to ruin it. If she’s not cool with us being there together, no problem, Donna and I will sit it out.”

What sounded like an easy and straightforward decision actually wasn’t. I’d struggled with this wedding ‘what if’ from the minute I kissed Donna after our first date. Now that we’d come this far in our relationship it was no longer about just me, it was about both of us. I loved my brother and his fiancée, but no way was I going to their wedding without her.

The next day Donna and I were at her place watching a baseball game on television when the phone rang. Donna got up and answered, “Hello? Yes, this is she,” after which I could only hear her side of the conversation.

“Yes, very much so. No, I won’t be offended if he attends by himself.”

“He said what? Oh, my.”

“It will be your day, I wouldn’t dream of making a scene.”

“Thank you, Janine. It will be a wonderful wedding. Josh speaks very highly of you, and says you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Terry.”

With that, she hung up, came over to the sofa and plopped herself in my lap, giving me a kiss that made me completely stop caring about the baseball game. “You really told your brother that you’d skip his wedding if I wasn’t invited?”

“We’re a couple, and I love you. No way would I go to something so important and not have you with me.”

She began unbuttoning my shirt and teased, “Are you sure? You’ll miss out on dancing with the drunken hot bridesmaids at the reception.”

I slipped my hand under her sweatshirt, caressing the naked mounds of her breasts. I began to get hard; since we’d instituted a ‘no-bra’ rule at home, I loved conducting inspections to make sure she was complying.

Nuzzling her neck, I scoffed, “Drunk girls in slutty dresses are not my type, my preference is intelligent beauty, and that’s you.” My lust overcoming me, I added, “I can show you proof right now.”

She challenged me as she unzipped my jeans and nipped at the skin on my chest. “And how will you do that, exactly?” My dick was so hard now, it was like having a lamppost 6 inches below my navel.

I scooted her onto her back and quickly pulled off her jeans. “By using my tongue.” I pushed her thighs apart, exposing the blue silk panties I’d bought for her to commemorate the two-week anniversary of our first time together. I planted kisses directly on the warm silk-covered crotch, my fingers teasing her by reaching under the leg hole trim and stroking her womanly bits, taking care to be gentle with her clitoris. (In order to polish my technique and give Donna more pleasure, I’d read The Joy Of Sex about 57 times by now, practicing as often as I could to her delight.)

I teased her this way for a few minutes, then pulled the silk aside and mapped out the topography of her vagina using the tip of my tongue as my surveyor’s compass. Honestly, oral sex had become my favorite thing to do because of the way it made Donna lose control. My skills had improved to the point that I was able to make her climax twice before my cock came into play.

The added bonus was hearing her cries of pleasure and feeling her orgasmic shudders, which only stoked my own sexual urges, making me orally plunder her like the pirate Blackbeard plundered Caribbean merchant ships. Today I was in rare form, my tongue teasing her mercilessly, tracing around her labia as the tip coated each little crevasse. Donna’s body was wracked with convulsions as I kept her hips firmly in my grasp, bringing her off in a chain of climaxes. She cried out, “No more, please, Josh,” and struggled to get free, but held her hips tightly in my grip. I felt powerful and in control.

She gasped and breathed a sigh of relief as I let up on my efforts – I wasn’t being merciful, I had to ease up because my jaw was beginning to ache – and said, “You’ve tried to teach me to be a good lover, have I been a good student?”

“Oh, god, Josh, yes,” she said, her breathing still slowing, “I’ve never come so many times in a row!”

My head still between her legs, I chuckled and told her, “You know you motivate me, right?”

I moved around now, climbing on top of her and position my stiffness atop her wet labia. I took all I had to restrain myself from immediately thrusting right in; instead, I inched my cock tip into her and asked my second question.

“Do you really think I want some bubble-headed bridesmaid instead of you?” Although the urge to plunge in was nearly overwhelming, I had a point to prove, so I only slid in an inch more. “Answer the question,” I teased, now sliding an inch out again.

I felt her hands pushing gently at the small of my back, urging me to enter, but I only pulled slightly back and demanded, “Tell me, Donna, do you think I would do this with anyone else?” For emphasis and a little stimulation, I wiggled my hips, and the teasing motion of my tip had the desired effect.

“No, Josh, only me, now please…” With my question now answered, I buried myself deep into Donna and she gave out a satisfying cry of pleasure. I’d held back long enough, now my lust was unleashed; I bent my head down, kissing and nipping the skin on her shoulders and neck as I jack-hammered into my lover.

As I ravaged her, I kept repeating how beautiful she was, how no other woman compared with her, and how she was the only one I ever wanted. She didn’t respond verbally, but my words seemed to elevate her pleasure; her final climax was as intense as I’d ever felt or seen; it then triggered an earth-shattering spasm of my own, filling her with baby batter before collapsing. We lay together in happy silence, two piles of sweaty, satiated nakedness.

When our breathing had returned to normal, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to remind her I hadn’t changed my mind; I took the opportunity to mention, “In case you were wondering, I still want to marry you.”

Donna gave me no reply, choosing instead to snuggle up closer to me. I reasoned that since she hadn’t told me no, I still had a shot at matrimony. I’d take that for now.

The next two weeks flew by quickly. Inspired by the things I learned from studying The Joy of Sex, Donna and I made love every night. Some positions worked great, others left one or both of us in pain, but with a lot of love and a little lube, overall the sex was incredible. Since her fertility wasn’t an issue and we were safe, there was no need for condoms, and it was glorious!

+++++

It was the Saturday before I was leaving for Chicago University, and also the day of Terry and Janine’s wedding. Waiting in the apartment, Terry was as nervous as a bumblebee trapped in a bug zapper. I tried to calm him down by alternately telling him awful jokes and talking about how great Janine was. Finally, Ben, his college roommate and best man, showed up to take my brother to the church.

Not long after, Donna came to pick me up. Thinking my parents would spot my Galaxie immediately, we drove in Donna’s car. Since my best clothes were at my parents’ house, the week before Donna took me out and bought me a new suit for the wedding. “Your brother only gets married once, so I want you to look your best,” she told me.

It was navy-blue silk, and combined with a lighter blue cotton shirt and sunflower yellow tie; I had to admit my girlfriend had excellent taste. The dress she wore was a floor-length off-the-shoulder sleeveless blue dress, in a shade that really set off her white hair. She was breathtaking.

Upon seeing her, the first words that came out of my mouth were, “Whoa! I wish you and I were the ones getting married.” She just smiled, patting my cheek in response.

Once at the church, Donna and I sat in the rear corner, away from the central aisle. Hopefully, that way we wouldn’t be spotted by my parents at the end of the recessional since their eyes would be looking straight ahead, focusing on the two newlyweds’ exit.

During the ceremony, I impulsively picked up Donna’s hand and kissed it, and whispered, “Someday…” She looked straight ahead, but I think she’d heard me and knew what I intended, as a tear rolled down her cheek. I wished I knew what she was feeling.

After the ceremony, we snuck out of the church via a side door, and took our time driving to the hall where the reception was being held. Thankfully, Janine had told us ahead of time where we’d be sitting, so after things had settled down we slipped in the back and quietly took our place at table 19, furthest from the wedding party’s table.

The reception started with Janine’s father Roger Simmons giving the welcome speech; another East-sider and an electrician by trade, the man’s joy was evident. His welcome speech was loud and ebullient; from what Terry had told me that was pretty much described his personality all the time.

The servers came around with our dinners as the maid of honor and best man gave their heartfelt speeches, Janine alternately crying and kissing Terry as they listened to beautiful words being spoken about them. My mind kept drifting off, imagining the things they’d be saying about Donna and I if it were us.

Then the newlyweds got on the dance floor to enjoy their first dance, followed by the father and daughter/mother and son dance. This was the first time I’d seen Mom since the night I moved out, and I felt a pang of regret from missing her.

Right after that came the bouquet toss and garter throw. To maintain our low profile we didn’t participate, but I would have loved to catch that garter. Then the cake was cut, and the dancing began.

During the slow songs I danced with Donna on the darkened periphery of the dance floor, and even went so far as to kiss her a few times. Weddings do have a way of stirring emotions, and with her in my arms I was not immune to it. While over the summer my love for Donna had deepened, being at my brother’s wedding had really plunged me into the precipice. I hoped she felt the same.

During a break in the slow songs, Donna excused herself to go to the ladies room, and I went to get us a couple of glasses of punch. My head was so firmly ensconced in the clouds that I’d unfortunately let my guard down. When I turned back to the table with a glass of punch in each hand, I came face-to-face with my Mom, my Dad standing directly behind her. Shit!

She wasted no time. “Joshua, you were able to make it! I’ve missed you.” She nodded towards my scowling Dad, and added, “We both have.”

Trying to maintain civility and keep our promise to Janine that there would be no drama, I replied simply, “You’re both looking good. It’s been a wonderful wedding, I’m sure you’re proud of Terry. Janine is a real sweetheart.”

Looking at the two glasses I was holding, Mom said, “It looks like you’re not alone. We’re so happy to see you, we’d love to meet your date as well.”

With no way around this, I sighed. “Given your track record of disappointment in my partner choices, I don’t think your happiness is going to last long.” At that moment, Donna walked up next to me and slipped her arm into mine. At least now I wasn’t facing this alone.

“Mom, Dad, this is my partner (it seemed stupid to call he my girlfriend) Donna Landecker. Donna, these are my parents David and Maria Lujack.”

Ever the diplomat, Donna said, “Hello, it’s good to finally meet you. Your son is a wonderful man.” She held out her hand, but both my parents ignored her until she finally lowered it.

Mom’s eyes were wide. “Josh, is this your idea of a joke? You can’t be serious. This woman is my age!” Uh oh. Here we go.

As gently as I could, I fired back, “Like they say, age is just a number. Donna’s everything a man can ask for: pretty, intelligent and kind. On top of that, she treats me like a real man, not a boy.” While staying calm, I couldn’t resist getting in a subtle dig at my parents with that last bit.

Dad ended his silence with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. “A woman her age isn’t interested in you, son, she’s just manipulating you!”

I chuckled, “Manipulating me to what end? To steal my non-existent fortune? To get the deed on my non-existent house? To get her name on the title of my ’68 Ford because her ’86 Mercedes isn’t good enough?” I shook my head in disbelief. “Honestly, listen to yourself, Dad!”

Internally I was getting angry, but I kept my exterior calm. No way would I engage in a family fight at my brother’s reception!

Frustrated, my mother blurted out, “Maybe she’s just trying to trick you into her bed!”

I held up my hands, palms out. Still trying to keep things cool, I spoke in a low voice. “Whoa, Mom, that’s just crazy talk. I mean, just look at her! She’s gorgeous! She doesn’t need to trick me into anything, any more than you needed to trick Dad into getting you pregnant after your prom!”

Reminding my mother about the circumstances of my brother’s conception may have been a low blow, but I’d had just about enough of my parents’ hypocrisy.

I could see my remark had hit home. Mom’s eyes got wide with anger; she stopped talking and walked away, grabbing my Dad’s arm to take him in tow. The crisis had been quietly averted, and the reception continued uninterrupted. Donna, who had been silent through the whole exchange, suggested we give our best wishes to the bride and groom and take our leave, which we did.

Despite my best efforts, I had not escaped unfazed. Once we were back in the car, Donna began crying. “I’m sorry, Josh. It’s all my fault. I’m keeping you and your family apart.”

“Donna, no! This is not about you at all! The only thing keeping my family apart is my parents’ refusal to accept that I’m not a kid anymore, that it’s me who decides who I love and who I don’t, not THEM! They don’t get to judge who’s an acceptable partner for me, I do, and I choose YOU, OK?”

Leaning over the center console, I pulled her to me and gave her the most passionate kiss I could muster, and repeated, “I choose you.” That seemed to do the trick. She dried her eyes, and we went back to her place.

As soon as the door slammed, I pressed her against the wall, kissing her bare shoulders as my fingers searched for and found the zipper of that beautiful sleeveless blue dress. I told her between kisses, “The only place that dress will look better than on your sexy body is on the floor,” then proved it by unzipping it, then helping her step out of it.

I nodded approvingly. “Ah yes, much better!” She was now standing in front of me wearing a pair of sheer blue lace panties and white thigh-high stockings. Stepping back and gazing at her, I took off my tie and shirt, so we were now both topless. I leaned my head down and gave each of her nipples the kisses and suckles they deserved, then continued my worship of her body by moving my lips across her abdomen. My fingers caressing the blue silk of her undergarments over her mound, and I heard her moaning enjoyment. After the emotions I’d experienced at the wedding, I was ready to give Donna 110% of my love.

Before I could get much further in my adoration, however, I felt her hands on my shoulders, holding me back. “Josh, can we hold off for tonight? I’m not in the mood, I just need you to hold me.”

While inwardly I groaned, I replied, “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you want is fine by me.” My fully-loaded nuts disagreed, of course but this was my Donna, and I was determined to do whatever was necessary to make her happy. She went into the bathroom and changed into a granny-style nightdress with all the sexiness of medieval knight’s armor. I got into bed naked as I usually did, hoping she might be tempted to change her mind in the middle of the night, but no luck. She quickly fell asleep, while I lay wide awake for another hour, wondering what was going on in her mind. Finally, I surrendered to sleep as well.

The next night was my last before I was to leave for college, so Donna and I drove to the nearby town of Durkee, Indiana for my farewell dinner. We went to the House of Prime Rib, out on State Road 231 near the Kentucky border.

The food was awesome; it was the best prime rib I’d ever had, and the football-shaped baked potato with butter and sour cream could have been a meal by itself. Donna was wearing a yellow sleeveless summer dress with red flowers on it, gorgeous as always. Driving up to Chicago tomorrow, I’d be remembering Donna, and what a wonderful evening this was. It was perfection. Well, almost.

As we gazed into each other’s eyes, a man’s voice interrupted our reverie. “Hello, Donna. Nice to see you.” I looked up, and standing next to our table was a rather large man who looked to be over 6 feet and around 240 pounds, most of which seemed to be located around his gut. He wore a bright yellow Lacoste designer golf shirt and tan khakis, with a Rolex on his wrist and what appeared to be expensive Italian leather loafers on his oversized feet.

A blonde girl not much older than me, in a tight dress and wearing 5″ hooker heels no less, was hanging on his arm. I disliked both of them immediately.

Donna looked up. “Hello, Ashton. What brings you here?”

“After golfing today, I was in the mood for a steak, and this is one of Mindy’s favorite places. Right, babe?”

“Sure Ashy, whatever you say.” It only took five words out of her mouth to confirm my suspicions that Mindy’s personality was as vacuous as her appearance. I was glad we’d finished our meal, because just the sound of her voice would have killed my appetite.

Donna introduced us. “Ashton Hayes, this is Joshua Lujack. Josh, Ashton Hayes. Ashton and I went out a few times last year.” I didn’t bother to extend my hand; the guy seemed so slimy, if we shook hands I’d probably need a shower afterwards. He didn’t bother extending his either, so it appeared our disdain was mutual.

His eyes still on me as if I were some kind of zoo exhibit, Hayes asked Donna, “Is Josh your nephew or something?”

I couldn’t believe the arrogance of this asshole, insulting my age while he stood there with a girl at least 20 years younger than him. Before Donna could answer, I shot back, “Donna is my date.” Taking a snarky shot at this pompous oaf, I added, “I’m an upgrade from the usual losers she’s been seeing.” I pushed back my chair and stood, holding out my arm. “We were just leaving, actually. Right, dear?”

Donna, looking bemused, got up and looped her hand through my arm. “Yes, exactly. Nice to see you again, Ashley.” “Nice meeting you, too, Mindy,” she added, being polite although I doubt she meant it.

We started to leave, and Hayes looked at his watch and cracked, “If you’re going to the movies, it’s early enough for your senior discount and for Josh to get a child’s ticket.”

Hearing that, I really wanted to punch the smug look off the bastard’s face, but opted instead to quickly snipe back, “Enjoy your meal, but make sure you ask the waitress for the kid’s menu and crayons for Mindy.”

As we exited the restaurant, still fuming I asked Donna, “Don’t tell me, let me guess. That asshole was one of the men who lost interest in you, right?”

“You guessed it. Three dates and he was done with me.”

We reached the car door, and I opened it for her. “Fuck him. He didn’t deserve you. You’re way out of his league.” As I went around to my side and got in the Ford, somewhere deep inside me the green-eyed monster known as envy raised its head. “Wait, did you actually sleep with that jerk?”

Donna was very quiet for a couple of minutes. As she looked out the window into the darkness, she finally answered, “We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, Josh. I was a widow, lonely and isolated for many years, and desperate for a man’s attention. I was weak and made a mistake, OK? I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

It was plain I’d struck a nerve, and now I felt like a shitheel. We drove the rest of the way home in silence. Once back home, when we walked up to her door she turned to me, and I could see she’d been holding back tears. As I moved to embrace her, she put her hand on my chest and blocked me. “I think it’s best if you go now,” she sniffed, “you’ll have to leave early tomorrow if you want to avoid Chicago rush hour traffic.”

This was my last night in Fairburn, and there was no way I wanted to spend it apart from her. “Listen, Donna, I’m really sorry I hurt you,” I pleaded, “I love you, I didn’t mean to judge. You’re right, I have no idea what it’s like to be in your position. What’s past is past, I was just being a jealous shithead. We haven’t agreed to being exclusive while I’m at school, but I want us to be.”

Donna didn’t respond, her face expressionless, as if in serious contemplation. A feeling of dread came over me. Terry had a saying, ‘you really put your dick in the dirt with that move’.

In this case, he’d have been right, because I certainly had. Donna response was flat and cold. “Thank you for that apology, but let me ask you, have you thought about how I feel, knowing you slept with my daughter? Do you think I don’t feel jealous, knowing how hard you worked just to win her over? Part of it is my fault; maybe I made it too easy for you. Now after spending the last few weeks having you all to myself, you’re about to go away to a university where you’ll be surrounded by dozens of attractive college-age women. I could lose you. You think that doesn’t scare the shit out of me?”

Wow, that was mind-boggling. Donna Landecker, the super-confident woman who I always viewed as accomplished, independent, and fearless, was, in fact, sensitive and insecure, much like me. What she said next, though, really shocked me.

“The more I’ve thought about it, for you and I to be exclusive while you’re at school isn’t fair to you. You may very well find someone closer to your age, a girl who can give you the children that I can’t.”

She paused, took a calming breath, then dropped a bomb on me, saying. “It very well may mean losing you, but if you find someone else, I’ll completely understand.” Oh no! This couldn’t be happening! I felt my body growing numb.

“As far as my situation, I won’t be wasting my time with any more arrogant middle-aged Lotharios like Ashton Hayes,” she assured me, “I know now that I deserve better, and I have you to thank for that knowledge.” She leaned in and softly pressed her lips to mine. “I do love you, Josh, but I don’t want to hold you back.”

Before I could react, she was inside, and her door was closed. For five minutes I stood there like a statue, paralyzed while my brain attempted to comprehend what the fuck had just happened. Rosalie dropping me had felt like a knife in my heart, but Donna telling me I was a free man was more like a howitzer shell to the chest.

Somehow, I managed to make it back to Terry’s apartment, empty now except for the few things I had. The rent was paid through the end of the month, but he’d already moved out. After the honeymoon he and Janine would be living in her place. For the rest of the night, I just laid there in my sleeping bag, looking at the empty walls and trying to deal with the loss of another love. I felt like King Midas, except in reverse; everything I touched turned to shit. Eventually I fell asleep, even as I tried to make sense of it all.

+++++

Chicago, Illinois — October, 1986

The next two months were certainly exciting — living on-campus in Chicago was very different from living in quiet little Fairburn – but also a little rough. The few times I tried to called Donna, she never answered. I’d also written her several letters, telling her how much I loved her, missed her, and insisting had no interest in seeing anyone but her. There was, surprise surprise, no reply.

Not wanting to pressure Donna, I didn’t specifically come out and put in writing that I still wanted to marry her, but if I didn’t heavily imply it, I deserved to flunk my Advanced English course.

My heartfelt letters having gone unanswered, I’d be lying if I told you the silence didn’t hurt. In the last few months, heartache and I had somehow become old friends, which sucked.

Honestly, even if I wanted to date other people — which I didn’t – I didn’t have time for it. While my scholarship took care of basic tuition/housing and I had money saved for books, I still needed pocket money for food and incidentals. To that end, I took a job washing dishes at the University Food Center; when I wasn’t in class or studying, I was washing cups, trays, and silverware.

I was averaging about four or five hours of sleep a night, but thanks to my job I was allowed free coffee at the Food Center. Powered by sheer determination and caffeine, I somehow managed to keep my head academically above water most days.

My dormitory was a 13-story building called Chichester Hall, where I roomed on floor 11. It was a two-person room, but my roommate Alex seldom slept in his bed. He’d recently fallen in love with a local bartender, (an older woman in her 40s — hell of a coincidence, right?) so most nights he slept in her apartment. One night I came home from the library, and as I was about to unlock the door I heard music coming from inside.

At first I thought it was just Alex, but then I remembered he didn’t have a radio in our room. I did, a lightly-used 1985 JVC PC-200W model AM/FM radio boom-box with cassette player that my brother Terry had given me during his moving out of the apartment. Then I recognized the song and heard the lyrics; it was Cyndi Lauper singing Time After Time:

“If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me,

Time after time

If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting,

Time after time

If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me,

Time after time

If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting,

Time after time.”

For some reason the song made me think of Donna. Although I never stopped hoping she’d wait for me, after two months of no contact I was sure she’d found someone else. Squeezing my eyes shut to endure the emotional twinge that memories of her brought out in me, I put my room key in the lock.

The song faded out as I opened the door, followed by an overexcited WLS announcer reading ad copy:

“SUNDAY-SUNDAY-SUNDAY! at smokin’ US 30 Drag Strip, see Roger Lindamood driving his ‘Color Me Gone’ Charger going head-to-head down the quarter mile against Bob Glidden in his Pro-Stock Thunderbird! Free admission for 15 and under! SUNDAY-SUNDAY-SUNDAY! BE THERE!!!!”

Drag racing was the last thing on my mind, however, especially when I saw who was sitting in my dorm room desk chair: Donna! My jaw literally dropped, my mouth gaping in surprise as she stood to explain. I got the impression she was happy to see me, her words just spilled out.

“Hello, darling. I’m sorry about not calling, but I didn’t have your phone number here in the dorm. The Resident Assistant at the front desk was kind enough to give me your room number and a key when I mentioned I was a close friend of yours. The way he was ogling me, though, I probably could have told him I was a serial killer, and it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

She walked towards me, looking fantastic as always in tight Ralph Lauren jeans, a Chicago University sweatshirt, and red Converse All-Star high-tops. Her white hair, shoulder-length now, was tied back in a ponytail, and seeing her again it was difficult to hold back my tears.

I managed the wherewithal to turn and close the door, only to turn back and find myself wrapped in Donna’s arms, her lips passionately pressed to mine. My textbooks, highlighters and study guides fell from my hands as I returned her kiss with equal fervor. We stood there for at least a minute exchanging kisses until we had to stop for air. Taking a breather from our reunification, we sat down on the edge on my bed, and she began to pour her heart out to me.

“I read and re-read your letters so often that I lost count. All of them. You really love me, don’t you?”

I should have been angry at that question, I mean, I’d said it enough times in the damned letters, but this was my Donna; I just couldn’t. “I told you that before I left for school. I was the one who wanted us to be exclusive, remember?”

“Yes, you said that, but I felt like agreeing would be denying you a life of your own.”

I paused for a moment; dark thoughts began creeping in. “You never answered my letters. I know I have no right to ask you this, but have you been seeing anyone since I’ve been here?”

“No, no one,” she quickly assured me, and internally relief swept over me. “I didn’t answer your letters only because I felt going no-contact would be the best way for you to forget about me.”

Incredulous, I laughed. “You’re kidding, right? What part about me loving you would make you think that would ever work?”

“When I told Addy yesterday, she became quite upset and asked me the same thing. She forced me to face the fact that how I treated you was incredibly stupid.”

Adeline Parker again? Although I’d never actually met Addy, this statement pretty much gained her permanent ‘friend for life’ status with me. “So is that what got you to finally come visit me?”

“Unfortunately, no. I mean, if I hadn’t already planned to, that would have motivated me, but something else has come up. I haven’t been keeping well lately.”

Before she could continue, my caffeine-fueled brain panicked and immediately started a list of possible things that might be wrong: breast cancer, heart disease, kidney disease, leukemia, what could possibly be afflicting my lover?

Struggling to maintain a calm demeanor, I took her hand and asked, “What exactly is bothering you?”

“I’ve been feeling nauseous and achy a lot, so I went to the doctor. He ordered some bloodwork and an ultrasound to see if my kidneys were functioning properly.” Just the thought of Donna having a kidney problem filled me with dread. Would she need a transplant, or maybe dialysis?

“If you need a transplant, I want to be the first one they test for a donor match,” I volunteered.

“Josh, thank you, that’s very sweet, but I don’t need a donor, my kidneys are fine. This is rather awkward, but what I needed to tell you is the ultrasound they gave me showed I’m 10 weeks pregnant.”

I was so stunned by this news that I would have crumpled to the ground if I hadn’t already been sitting down. I managed to stammer out, “How is that possible? You told me your doctor said your baby-making days were over.”

“Yes, well, at the time my gynecologist told me my reproduction days were about to end, but that was based on my being a widow and not in a relationship. I’d told her I was done having sex. You, however, upset that particular apple cart.” Stunned, I quickly flashed back on all the times we’d had unprotected sex — some days multiple times.

Donna took my hand and squeezed it gently. “I realize this is not something you ever signed up for, I’m only telling you because you deserve to know. You’re young and bright, with a great life ahead of you. I love you very much, enough that I don’t want to tie you down and keep you from doing great things.”

My head still spinning, I managed to stammer, “What about you and your choices?”

“That depends on what you decide to do.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Money’s not an issue, but my age is. This is a high-risk pregnancy, so I’ll be on bed rest and quite limited as to how much I can do. The bottom line is, I can’t physically go through having this baby by myself, Josh.”

Now that Donna had put it out there, the emotion she’d been holding in so well broke loose; she began crying. Taking her in my arms to comfort her, my brain started processing things at a hundred miles an hour. There were a lot of uncertainties in my mind, questions about where I was going with my studies and what I wanted to do after graduation.

One thing for sure, though: I loved Donna, loved her so much that I really wanted to marry her. That hadn’t changed.

After Donna’s flow of tears slowed, I wiped her wet cheeks, dabbing at her eyes with a facial tissue. “Did I not make it clear that I loved you even before I left for school?” Slightly sniffling, she nodded. “And you knew I wanted to marry you, right?” Smiling, she nodded again. I gave her a soft, slow kiss to emphasize my point. Damn, she smelled good.

Then I gave her my answer. “Just because a baby wasn’t planned doesn’t mean it’s unwanted. My own prom-conceived brother is living proof of that. Donna, I really want this baby, and I really, really want to be married to you.”

“What about your degree?”

“I can transfer my credits to Indiana College so we can live in Fairburn at your place. That way we’ll be together and I can take care of you while I’m finishing my degree.”

Donna sat quiet for a few moments, then quietly asked, “Do you plan on proposing?”

I thought about it for a moment, then said, “No.”

The surprise on her face demonstrated she was expecting me to automatically say yes, but I realized I’d made it too easy for her, as I had with her daughter. With Rosalie, I worked my ass off to gain her attention and affection, only to be cold-heartedly dumped. Donna wasn’t cold-hearted, but I was done with being her uncertainty about our relationship.

“I’m not going to propose to you, I want you to propose to me,” I told her. “Remember how you shut me out at the end of our first date, after deciding that you weren’t right for me? If I hadn’t pushed back and told you that wasn’t your decision to make, that would have ended things. And then, once again deciding on your own what was best for me, when I left for college you tried to make me forget about you for two agonizing months. If not for our baby, you still wouldn’t be in contact!”

I was inadvertently raising my voice as I became increasingly agitated.

“You’re right.” Donna said it so softly I could barely hear her. But I wasn’t done yet, now I was on a roll.

“If the only reason you’re here is that you’re pregnant, that’s just not good enough. You know I love you, but I don’t want to go through another episode where you decide what’s best for me and shut me out. I have to know for sure that you really love and want me, that you’re not going to change your mind again. Damn it, Donna, I absolutely adore you, but I’m tired of your indecision. I need to be convinced you feel the same way! Just like it says in that Cheap Trick song, ‘I want YOU to want ME’!”

Breathing hard now, I paused my diatribe for a moment to calm myself and gather my wits.

Disentangling myself from her arms, I stood up. I was surprised at how emotional I’d become, my vision blurred; I could no longer hold back my tears. It was a powerful thing, me realizing I was now done being a fucking doormat. Calmer now, I tried to be gentler in making my point, as if back on my high school debate team.

“You’ve always acted like you respected me, and treated me like a man — except when denying my feelings about you. I really want to be this baby’s father, but I won’t marry you without assurances that you really love me. Stop vacillating and make up your mind, Donna Landecker. Do you really love me enough to marry me, or will you change your mind for a 3rd damned time?”

I took two steps towards the door and put my hand on the doorknob. My anger had somewhat diminished, but I was still upset enough to entertain the possibility of throwing Donna out.

My anger dissipated entirely, however, when she put her face in her hands and began sobbing again. Sitting back down next to her and cradling her in my arms, I did the only thing I could think of, which was to simply hold her.

Being a caregiver at heart, I initially wanted to apologize to Donna for upsetting her, but my rational mind insisted I had nothing to apologize for. For once, I was asking for love instead of just blindly giving it, not an unreasonable request in the current scenario.

When her sobs finally receded, Donna spoke quietly. “Josh, I’m so sorry. They say the most deluded people are those who choose to ignore what they already know, and I fell squarely into that category. I’ve had such a hard time accepting the fact that you don’t see my flaws, but I know now that you’re not blind to them; you’re choosing to accept them because you love me.”

Before I could react to her revelation, Donna shocked me by placing her hand in the center of my chest and pushing me onto my back, throwing herself on top of me so her face was right above mine.

“Let me tell you something, Joshua Alexander Lujack. You think YOU’VE been in agony for the last two months? Try being a woman so crazy in love that out of fear or ruining his life, she risked losing her man to some college tramp. Try being a lonely woman who ached for her lover’s touch every night, yet every day forbade herself from running to him. Try being a woman frightened that her lover might reject her after she revealed he’d put a baby in her when it was allegedly impossible. THAT’S agony.”

Wow. Now that Donna explained what she’d put herself through for me, I had a better grasp of what she had been trying to accomplish. Each of us wanted what was best for the other, but we’d both done a poor job of communicating our fears and caused each other unnecessary heartache. Donna wasn’t done, though.

“You’re right about me changing my mind. I promise not to ever make that mistake again.” Things then took an interesting turn as Donna began to unbutton my shirt. “Will you marry me, Josh? Age difference be damned, I want you as my husband. I want your mouth and hands on me in our bed every night, I want you kissing me good morning when we wake up, and kissing me goodbye when you leave for school or work every day.”

My shirt now open, she was fumbling with undoing my belt and lowering the zipper on my jeans. My stiffening cock sprung free, and she wrapped her warm fingers around it. “I want to be your wife, Josh. Tell me this is all mine, tell me you belong to me forever.” Then she planted her lips on mine, and kissed me with the heat of a homecoming bonfire.

I reached down and grasped the bottom of her sweatshirt and pulled it off, exposing her sexy shoulders and the deep cleavage of her bosom, seemingly trapped in an undersized bra. As I reached around to undo the clasps and free her swollen breasts, I gave her my answer.

“Yes, I’ll marry you and be all yours forever.” Her bra now undone, I lowered my lips to her nipples and began to catch them up on the 2 months of attention they’d been denied.

+++++

Chicago, Illinois — December, 1986

Since I was finishing up my semester, we decided to get married in a small wedding at the campus chapel the last day before winter break. I’d asked Terry to be my best man, while Donna had asked her best friend Adeline to be her maid of honor.

Having no fancy clothes of my own I was going to just rent a tuxedo, but Donna insisted on buying me a custom-tailored navy-blue suit as a wedding gift. (I guess I looked good enough because she did end up saying “I do.”)

I wasn’t allowed to see Donna’s dress before the wedding – for all I cared it could have been a plain Amish dress so long as Donna was in it – but Adeline had described it to me as a floor-length A-line dress, form-fitted in the bosom and flared out at the waistline to accent her 5-month baby bump.

Not being fluent in dress styles I had a hard time imagining it, but I damn near fell over when Donna walked up the aisle on our wedding day. As she took her place next to me I leaned towards her and asked, “Of the three million women in state of Indiana, how did I get so lucky as to marry the prettiest one?”

The Reverend Thomas began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here…” and 20 minutes later ended with “Honored guests, I am proud to present Joshua and Donna Lujack.” It was now official; I had a lawfully-wedded wife, with a baby on the way. What had been my dream since high school was now reality.

The reception was in a small ballroom of the hotel in downtown Chicago, with just some of Donna’s friends, a few of my teachers and classmates at Chicago University, and a few family members in attendance: Terry, Janine, and Donna’s unmarried older sister Dorothy Winston.

We changed the traditional father and daughter/mother and son dance to a family dance, so Terry danced with Donna, while I danced with Dorothy. Dorothy was 8 years older than Donna, but she still looked fantastic. I have to say, the two Winston family women were both easy on the eyes.

That’s when Dorothy thanked me for marrying her sister, and shared, “When Nicolas passed, Donna lost her spark. After you two got together, it came back. My advice to you is ignore anybody who criticizes your age difference. You make my baby sister happy, that’s all that should matter.” As the song ended, she kissed my cheek and whispered, “Welcome to the family, handsome.”

Donna’s daughter and my parents were, sadly, not in attendance. Since Donna hated Robert, Rosalie feared her mother would sabotage their reconciliation, and my ex had gone totally no-contact not long after she’d dumped me, even forbidding Etta and Jayden from seeing their grandmother. Deeply hurt by this, Donna hadn’t even bothered to invite Rosalie. As for me, I’d sent my parents a wedding invitation as an olive branch but got no response, not even the standard RSVP ‘regrets’. I guess my folks didn’t like olives.