Chapter 19: Coming Home

I welcomed Donny and Charli home about six, and Lisbeth came running through the door a few seconds later. I got everything out of the fridge, put it on the table and we began to eat.

Donny had that satisfied look about him, and Charli was wearing her best 'freshly loved and lovin' it' look. Lisbeth was chewing and smiling, shoveling in the food as only growing kids can. The meal was almost over when Lisbeth spoke.

"Mom, can — oops! — may I have a coke?"

Charli's light olive complexion turned almost white; her mouth opened but no words came out. Her eyes were like saucers, I swear.

Charli cringed, slumped in her chair, and softly asked, "Who told you?"

Lisbeth pointed at me and said, "She did."

Almost simultaneously, I said, "It was me."

Charli looked like she was going to throw up and hurriedly left the table. I told Lisbeth to stay where she was and ran after her.

In the bathroom, Charli was indeed bent over the porcelain goddess, but nothing had surfaced ... yet.

She turned to me and glared. "How could you?"

I related the events of the afternoon, including Lisbeth's reaction and how she'd given me the opening to divulge what she needed to know. Charli calmed somewhat and stood up, smoothing her skirt.

"I guess you did okay."

"I think so. She needs you right now. Running out of the room might not have been the best thing to do."

Charli shrugged and opened the door; Lisbeth stood there with fear in her eyes, quietly crying. I could see the tears running down her cheeks, and she made no effort to wipe them away.

Lisbeth, in a very small, child's voice, asked, "Are you mad?"

Charli bent down a little and said, "No, Sweetie, I'm not mad. I'm scared."

Have you ever seen two people grab at each other and hug, madly and energetically? They kiss, they cry, they hiccup and they laugh. Then they do it all over again.

I walked back into the kitchen and told Donny, "Everything's okay now."

Donny looked at me and said, "That's Charli's daughter?"

I nodded and asked, "Did she wear you out this afternoon?"

He chuckled and said, "Almost, but not quite."

I said, "Lets go to your place and let mother and daughter get reacquainted."

He smiled, took my arm and walked me to his car.

Donny and I enjoyed an athletic evening of sexual fun and games that was very satisfying for both of us. I had timed this one almost perfectly and was only two days away from my period. What's that got to do with it, you ask? I got to ride him bareback; no condom, so nothing was in the way of our enjoyment. And it was good, I assure you!

I might have given the impression in an earlier chapter that Donny was oversize, or larger than a normal man. He's not. Charli took him without complaint because she is built differently from me. I had — and still have — trouble with anything larger than, say, a 'C' cell battery. Something the size of a 'C' cell almost slides right in; anything bigger, no. Despite my big butt I have slim hips, and my vagina is not the biggest in the world. I can't complain; I inherited it.

If men would remember that a pussy is a potential space, not a gaping hole that needs filling, they'd be much better off in their dealings with women.

For instance: a cock enters the general area of the cunt and begs admission; the owner of the cunt nods and agrees. From that point, the cock is pushing aside skin, muscles and tender inner folds, and the head is opening the cunt. Everything needs time to stretch, especially the muscles. The walls of a vagina are comprised of slick — sometimes — folds of skin that will stretch to allow something the size of a baby's head out; they don't always separate in time to avoid pinching or jamming against each other when something is inbound, which hurts. My advice is: go slow, be gentle, ask her what she likes and do what she says. If you males out there want to see what it feels like, have your wife — or girlfriend — stick her largest vibrator up your ass without the KY.

Okay, end of sermon and back to the story.

I had painted my toenails earlier that week, and Donny noticed. They were bright orange, which goes well with my fair skin. There is nothing like an orgasm from a gentle man who is sucking your toes and fiddling with your clit at the same time. Be adventurous, ladies! It's worth it! Okay, okay. I'll stop.

It was after midnight when Donny drove me back: I kissed him, thoroughly and wetly, in thanks for a wonderful evening. His gait as he walked back to his car was a little unsteady.

Inside, the house was so quiet I could hear the refrigerator running. I tiptoed to our room and peeked in; it was empty. I got my sleep T out and put it on as quietly as I could, then tiptoed to Lisbeth's room.

The two were asleep in Lisbeth's bed, with Lisbeth sprawled about halfway on top of Charli. Charli had her sleep T on, and Lisbeth was dressed in nothing but skin. Her cute little bare butt shone like a lighthouse beacon in the dark. Lisbeth's left arm was draped across Charli's middle, and Charli's left arm was curled around Lisbeth's back. I went back to our room and hit the sack, smiling.

The alarm went off the next morning on time, and I got out of bed to make coffee. I called in sick for Charli, left a note to that effect on the kitchen table, and after eating a hurried breakfast drove to work.

I asked Roberta if I could take some time off soon; she said it would be fine, but to let her know when. I needed time alone to think. Charli had deceived me, about her age and her child. I wasn't angry, just concerned. Lisbeth was a welcome addition to the house; her play and antics were a delight to us both. I don't know what I would have done had I been in Charli's shoes, living in the same house as my daughter and having to treat her like a sister. It must have been very difficult for her.

Nevertheless, omitting to mention the fact of her daughter's existence to someone she loved was a bit much for me to handle all at one time. Don't get me wrong; I loved Lisbeth, I loved Charli, and I was ecstatic over their newfound relationship, but I needed time to process it. It wasn't an out and out lie, but a lie of omission; it brought up an issue of trust. I wanted to talk to my mom.

I called Mom and made arrangements for a visit. She said the second week of August would be perfect, so I planned accordingly. I told Charli what I was planning of course, in private and after a particularly satisfying session in bed. She cried and hugged me, and she also tried to talk me out of going. I cried too, but I held firm. I wanted advice from an objective source.

A few days before I was scheduled to leave, I was in the bedroom packing a suitcase with warm weather stuff, swimsuits and skimpy clothing. (There isn't much need for that sort of thing in North Dakota, even in the summer. I think it's the coldest place on earth in the winter. It isn't, but it sure feels like it.)

Lisbeth knocked on the doorframe and asked, "May I come in?"

I hadn't been avoiding Lisbeth or Charli in the past days, but I had been uncommunicative and surly.

Lisbeth asked, "Are you leaving 'cuz of me? Mom's awful sad."

"Did she send you in here?" I asked.

Lisbeth shook her head.

I sat down on the bed and motioned Lisbeth closer. "I need some time to think, and I need someone that is outside the situation to talk to. I'm going to go see my mom and dad. My mom has always been the best friend a girl could have, and I need her advice."

Lisbeth had shiny eyes when she asked timidly, "Will you come back?"

I hugged her and let her bawl. "Of course I will," I said. "This isn't about your mom or you; this is about me. What is it the kids say now? 'I need to wrap my head around the idea'?"

"You sure?" she asked.

"Positive," I replied.

Two days later, I drove away after Charli left for work. It was Monday, the sun was shining, the cooler was full of ice and soft drinks, and I had a long journey ahead of me. I went west on I-94, past New Salem and toward Beach. I hoped to take that until I hit I-15 and then go south through Salt Lake City all the way to Phoenix.

I stopped in Billings for the night, and after a shower and a nice steak I went into the motel bar for a nightcap. Country and Western music was playing softly from the jukebox, and there were about ten other people in the bar. I ordered a Heineken from a very cute female bartender, and sat back to sip and listen.

I must have closed my eyes — driving is tiring for me — because the next thing I knew, a man in a cowboy hat was tapping me on the shoulder. He was tall, sunburned and handsome; I politely declined his offer of a dance. He shrugged and walked away. I finished my beer and went to my room. The bed was very comfortable.

Interstate highways are extremely boring; the only thing that I enjoyed was the scenery. The mountains in the background through Montana were pretty, but the ones that surround Salt Lake City were gorgeous. I stayed on the road two more nights, and Thursday about noon I pulled into my folks' driveway.

Mom came running out of the house and hugged me. She was almost crying and trying not to let it show, but I let loose with a full flood. God, it was good to see her again!

After the emotional reunion in the driveway, I asked, "Where's Dad?"

Mom shook her head and frowned. "You'll see. Get your bags and come in the house."

Mom showed me where I was going to sleep and let me drop off my bags, then led me to the kitchen. I looked around inquisitively and held up my hands as if to say, 'Well, where is he?'. Mom pointed to the door, took me by the hand and slowly walked toward it.

Dad was on a screened in porch in a wheelchair; I gasped and stared at Mom. He seemed shrunken, a mere shell of the man he'd once been. His hair was shot through with gray, and he looked small.