Bagging Lauren - Again

"You are a bad influence on me," she told him. "So why is it I can't stop thinking about you? How is it you have this...power over me? I hope you know I hate you for that," she said as took another, longer drink.

"Is there anything else you hate me for?" he asked her. "I mean, we should probably clear the air before we go any further. What else have I done to make you hate me?"

"I was born and raised in the Mormon Church. It's all I've ever known. And like you, I was a late bloomer. I had braces on my teeth all through high school, and I only had one date. I went to Brigham Young University the next year and met Reed my first semester. He was just back from his mission in Uruguay and he asked me out. One date become two, two became three, and three turned into a proposal. He can't have children, but we always clung to the belief we would have 'children without number' in the celestial kingdom. My life was simple. I never wanted for anything materially speaking and I never even looked at another man...before you. You made me question everything I ever believed or believed in. You turned my whole world upside down. I lusted for you, I committed adultery with you, and even though you left me, I can't stop thinking about you."

Lauren sat up straight and looked directly at him. "Before you came into my life, I didn't realize I'd never really been alive. I just...existed. The days were a blur of trying to fill the time by staying busy. Reed was gone a lot establishing himself in his career; gone a lot more than he needed to be. I suspected something around the time you and I met, but I couldn't believe an elder in the church—my husband—could ever be unfaithful. How could I not be enough for him? And then I met you. When I started to have feelings for you...I understood. After we talked...I felt alive for the first time in my life. After we made love, I had something to live for. I had something and someone to live for. I didn't care that I was 40-year old woman acting like she was 19 and single. I was...in love. For the first time, I had hope. And then...it was gone. I was so angry at you. I was so hurt. It was back to my dull, boring life in a beautiful home with a man I barely knew anymore and the man I loved had left me. I felt hollow. So I went back to doing what I'd always done. I stayed busy and found things to fill my days. I gave up on ever feeling happy again. So that's what you gave me...and took from me."

Petersen listened carefully then said, "So what is it you most want, Lauren? And what is it you're most afraid of?"

She took another drink of her beer and said, "I want to feel alive again. I want to care about something. I want to feel...loved. So i guess the thing I'm most afraid of is never having any of that again and dying never having felt what I felt for those few days four years ago."

"Do you think I'm really the answer or is it possible Reed is the problem and you just need to get away from him? What would happen if you divorced him, stayed in your church, and found another man who's...well, closer to your age? Is that something you've considered?"

"I have," she said rather forlornly. "But where the Church is concerned, I just go through the motions now. It's all for show. I mean, I don't know how else to act or live. It's been the central theme of my life. So while I might find another man who makes me feel more alive, I'm not sure I want him to be LDS. You may think that's no big deal, but for me, it's absolutely huge."

"I hope you don't mind me being direct, but I have to ask. I'll ask gently, but I do have to ask. Why are you here, Lauren? Do you honestly see us getting married and living happily ever after? Is that a part of your dream—your dream of being happy?"

"I have no illusions that you would ever marry me, Cal. I'm almost 45 and I know I couldn't hold your attention for very long let alone the rest of my life. But you are the first and last person who made me feel the way I want to feel and...I want that feeling back more than I want anything else." A tear fell from her eye as she looked at him. She was now very much the little child looking for an answer. An answer to make her feel better; to make her feel the way she wanted to feel.

Petersen set down his bottle and stood up. He stepped around the tiny table between them and pointed to the spot next to her on the oversized chair. "May I?" he asked.

As Lauren looked up, another tear fell. "Sure," she said.

"First let me say there's nothing more I want than to kiss you right now. But because I do live by a moral code—my moral—code, I have to completely honest with you, Lauren. You're right about marriage. It has nothing to do with you or your age and everything to do with me. Maybe it comes from being the most hideous-looking kid in school for so many years then finally having a lot of opportunity with women that makes me feel this way. Perhaps that created a trust issue for me with women. Maybe it's just my age. In another ten years, who knows? Maybe I'll want to get married. Perhaps it's me. But I'm definitely not the marrying kind—at least not now. And I would never say I'd marry you or anyone else, for that matter, to have the chance to sleep with you, no matter how wonderful you are. And you are wonderful." As he said that, he took her small hand in his and she laid her head on his shoulder.

"I guess in my heart of hearts I wanted to hear you say you did want to marry me. That you love me so much nothing could stand in our way. Because...I'd leave my husband tomorrow if you did...love me that much. And I'd live anywhere with you if you did. But deep down, I knew that wasn't a possibility."

He put his arm around her and pulled her close. "What you have to do is decide what's most important to you, Lauren. Is it a safe, comfortable, boring marriage where you exist but never feel alive? Is it always having money—a lot of money—to have new clothes, new cars, and the finest things in life? Is it having the illusion of some ultimate safety net in the form of your religious beliefs when no such safety net exists?"

"You can't prove the Church isn't true, Cal," she said defensively.

"And I would never try. I can't prove God doesn't exist, either, and I don't spend time trying to do so. The bottom line for me is there is absolutely no evidence whatsoever that any god exists. There are only stories and assertions that one does. If he wants to talk to me personally, I'm ready to listen and obey. But I'm not listening to two 19-year olds wearing white shirts and black ties tell me stories they memorized verbatim. I'm not open to having some pastor, priest, or rabbi tell me what they believe some ancient text means, either. And while we're on this subject, if you're honest with yourself, you know your prayers don't get answered. You can try and deceive yourself and claim they do, but you know they don't. If they did, you wouldn't be so miserable and you definitely wouldn't be here with me. So you have to choose. Either pick relative safety and comfort without feeling, or admit there's no real love there and no eternal safety net and admit we're all free falling and enjoy the ride the best you can. But you can't have both, Lauren."

Lauren sighed then said, "Once again, you make me feel like a little girl listening to her wiser, older teacher. It's funny, but I've had four years to think this through and all I've done is think—in a circle. I've never made a decision. I just keep imagining what I want, but I've been unwilling to go after it. It's just so scary, you know? Giving up my husband, my marriage, my faith. In essence—my life. And I'm trading it in for something largely unknown. It almost feels like I won a solo trip to Europe on Let's Make a Deal, but now I have to decide whether to trade it for what's behind the curtain where Carol Merrill is standing. Will it be something better or a 'zonk'. The thought of getting zonked scares me, Cal. It scares the hell out of me." She laughed at her use of 'foul' language.

He reached around with his other arm and brushed back her pretty hair. "I'm not going to pressure you, Lauren. I'm here with you right now and if you choose me, I'll still be here for you. I just can't promise you a lifetime commitment. I can only promise I'll love you and care for you for the foreseeable future. You won't have the finer things in life, but you'll have me and my love. I know that may not be enough for you, but it's all I have to offer. If you want it, it's yours. What I'm offering is what's behind the curtain. Only you can assess whether or not it beats the trip to Europe or looks like a zonk."

"It feels like I really am free falling," she said as she snuggled up close. "I came here wearing this very inappropriate dress and I even took my temple garments off. I drank tea and beer and I'm lusting for you in the worst way imaginable. I'm wondering where it all might end."

"That's the beauty of an independent life, Lauren. You decide where it ends. Not some group of older, white males from Salt Lake City who claim to talk to God. You make those choices. Let's say you decided to leave your husband and cut ties with the Mormon Church. Would you run out and kill someone?"

"Of course not. That's absurd," she told him.

"Would you steal from other people?"

"No."

"Would you start lying and cheating and hurt others?"

"No."

"Then there's your answer. You would still be a decent, moral person. As to these other things you're so concerned about, I can assure you there's nothing wrong with doing something that hurts no one else. Drinking a beer harms no one. Same with coffee and tea. In fact, there's research to show that two cups of coffee a day can help ward off diseases like Parkinson's. So trust me. You will not fall off the end of the moral earth. You'll still be you with the same moral standards you've always had, but with the understanding that doing what harms no one else isn't immoral or wrong. It's actually very liberating."

"You make everything seem so simple and so clear," she said wistfully. She looked up at him and said, "So, oh great wise one, what should I do?"

"Not even the Great and Powerful Oracle of Auburn can answer that, my child," he teased. She hit him playfully before he continued. "As I see it, you have three choices. One, you go back home, put on your garments, pray for forgiveness, and live the rest of your life with Reed. You forget about me and make the best of what you've had for all these many years. Two, you tell him you're leaving, cut ties with the Church, and move in with me."

Lauren moaned softly and ran her hand up and down his arm. "And my third choice?" she asked.

"You stay here with me tonight, make love with me, and then go back home and take some time to decide."

"Cal, I want to be with you so bad I can't stand it. I want you so bad it hurts. But you and I both agreed you'll never marry me so I see no..."

He sat up and waited for her to look up at him. "Another question for you. Why does your decision depend on being married—to me or anyone else? Why can't you follow your heart and move in with me and give yourself some time to figure what more you might want out of life? Why is being married so important?"

"Because that's so...scary to me. Leaving is one thing, living...in sin...is quite another," she told him.

"Well, there you go. You have yet another choice. You can either live in fear or you can live freely. I don't see you ever being happy in your current life, Lauren. Maybe I'm wrong, but you've been trying for four years now and you clearly aren't happy. So how is going back to what doesn't make you happy going to suddenly make you happy? Isn't that the definition of insanity? By the way, I have no interest in your money. I say that because you'd get half of everything you two have and that will be your money. All of it. I don't want one dime. But remember, you won't be destitute, and you'll have someone who loves you more than anything for as long as you want him."

Lauren sighed loudly again. "How can a woman my age fall for someone as young as you are? And can she hope that that guy who is so handsome will want her for any real length of time? What's wrong with her? With...me?"

"There you go again. The word 'wrong' just like the word 'sin', has religious implications. We love who we love, Lauren. The other person may be black, white, Latino, or Asian. They might be male or female. Tall or short. Fit or fat. But we can't not love someone we love. I love you, too, by the way, and your age makes no difference at all to me. None. Now if you got fat..."

She hit him again and said, "I just might get fat if I move in with you and start drinking beer all the time. Then what would you do?"

"Well, I'd either send you off to the gym more often or tell you to hit the road."

"Ugh! Did I tell you I hate you?" she said with feigned anger.

"Yes, but I also told you I'll never lie to you," he told her.

"Do you really love me, Cal?" she asked imploringly. Her eyes told him she desperately needed to know.

"My moral code is simple. I picked it up in the Marine Corps. Marines don't like, cheat, or steal or tolerate those who do. So when I tell you something, I mean it. I just told you I love you Lauren, so you do the math."

She stared into his eyes. Her need to know he was being honest was imperative. "I believe you," she finally said. She kept staring then said quietly, "And I love you, too. So now what do we do?"

"Again, you can either go home and wait to tell your husband you're leaving him them come...home...here...to me, or you can stay with me tonight and I'll go with you when you're ready to tell him."

"No, I have to do that alone—by myself. I appreciate you offering to go with me, but I can't put that on you or anyone else. No pun intended but it's my cross to bear." She looked at him the way she had that night four years ago. "But I don't want to go home tonight. I want to stay with you. I'm just so afraid. Can me make not feel afraid?"

"No, sweetheart. I can't. No one can do that but you. But I can hold you and I can love you. The rest is up to you." He put his arms around her and held her close.

Without looking up she said, "Will you make love to me the way you did before?"

Petersen didn't answer. He just lifted her chin and kissed her softly on the lips.

She was so hungry for him she started tearing at his clothes. "I've wanted you every day for four years. I can't wait another minute," she said as she ripped and pulled.

He naked within moments and she slid between his knees and took his already-hard cock her hands. "I've dreamed of this, too. Every day," she said as she opened her mouth to take him in. She pressed hard with her tongue as her mouth took him deep. After several repetitions she came up for air and said, "I remember to never take my eyes off of you, too. You are so beautiful to me." She sucked several more times then said, "And so is...your cock. I've missed this so much, sweetheart. God, I love you!"

She cupped his balls and took him in her warm mouth until he was ready to explode. He pulled her shoulders to let her know he was ready. She slid out of her panties and pulled her knit dress up over her soft, round ass and prepared to mount his cock. He ran his hand along her slit several times making she was ready for him. Her pussy was wetter than any he'd ever touched. "I haven't had sex in four years so be easy at first, okay, my love?" she purred.

She lowered herself onto to him. Slowly she took his entire length until he was completely inside her. She stayed that way and held him. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She nodded but didn't speak. He felt a hot tear fall on his shoulder. "What's wrong, honey?" he asked.

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. Everything is...right. I am SO happy and I love you SO much!"

Lauren began to rock grinding her clit against his huge hard on. As she did, she whimpered and hissed and moaned. "Oh, my God...oh, that feels SO good!"

She raised up almost until he came out then slowly lowered herself back down. "I'm ready to be...fucked, honey," she told him. "I want you so...bad."

He lifted her and himself up and carried her the few steps to the bed and laid her on it never leaving her pussy. "Take me hard, please!" she begged him.

Petersen kissed her and took her tongue in his mouth and tried to suck it out of hers as he slammed his enormous cock in and out of her soft, sweet pussy. He hammered her as hard as he possibly could until he made her scream. "Say it for me," he said. "I know you haven't forgotten what I like."

Four years ago he'd made her say things that were so awful she couldn't believe she'd done it. But she was out of her mind with passion then and she'd have done anything that 18-year old boy wanted. And she was totally in love with this handsome 24-year old man who was finally fucking her the way she'd dreamed of being fucked again. "I haven't forgotten. I've said those things a thousand times in my dreams."

"Then say it for me, baby," he demanded.

Lauren was very close to cumming. "Oh, my God!" she screamed. "Fuck me! Jesus fucking Christ—fuck my goddamn pussy!"

He felt like if he pounded her any harder both of them might bore a hole in the thin wall separating his apartment from the neighbor lady who was always so nice to him. "Yes, yes, fucking goddamn it! YES!!" she screamed.

Petersen withdrew and told Lauren to touch herself as he used his hand to cum all over her very expensive dress. "Yes! Fucking cum all over me. My God I love you so fucking much!" she screamed as her body shuddered and shook.

Both of them were gasping for breath as he collapsed on top of her. "You okay?" he asked again. This time he was concerned about guilt setting in quickly after the deed was done.

"Yes! I am so okay. I am SO happy. Everything is so clear now. I want...you. I want...this. I choose...you."

They held one another for several minutes when Lauren got up to take off her cum-soaked dress. "That was a $300 dress," she said as she dropped it in the trash can. "And I don't give a shit!" she said proudly.

"Oh, my! Aren't you just the little potty mouth tonight," he teased.

She jumped on top of him and said, "You know you love it."

After making love two more times that night, both of them fell asleep in one another's arms. The next morning, Lauren made breakfast for them before they fucked one last time before she needed to leave.

"Reed gets home late tonight so I may not call until tomorrow. Is that okay?" she asked as he held her.

"It's just fine. Do this on your timetable and call when you can. Hey, you look pretty hot in my sweats and your heels. This is a real look for you!"

"I don't care what I'm wearing as long as I'm with you," she told him as she kissed him. "That doesn't mean I won't be wearing pretty sweaters for you most of the time, of course." She smiled as she teased him back about his fetish for sexy knit tops.

"I love you, Lauren," he told him as he let her go.

"I love you too, Cal. I love you so very much." They kissed goodbye and he watched her drive away to end her old life so she could start her one.

Petersen didn't spend time worrying about things out of his control, but this was different. He checked his phone 3-4 times an hour looking for a text or missed call even though his ringer was on high. Finally, around midnight he got a text.

"It's over. Things went very well. I want to tell you everything in person. Can you come here tomorrow evening around 6pm? Oh, Reed is moving out so you won't run into him. I love you so much! L"

He wasn't sure what to think or feel as he drove back up the long driveway and parked next the BMW. Before he even made it to the door, Lauren flung the door open and ran outside to meet him. She literally jumped into his arms.