Finding Himself Ch. 03

OK, OK, it turns out I lied, or rather, I gave you fake info... My editor/readers and I decided that Part 4 was too long (almost twice as many words) and consequently, I have divided it in two, and the conclusion will be Part 5.

~~~ 11 ~~~

The Saturday morning after his rather inglorious debut returning to the singles world, Joe awoke with a start until he remembered why he wasn't in his own bed, in his own house. And that he also woke up alone in direct contrast to his hopes and expectations.

At home on a Saturday morning he would have smelled breakfast cooking, but without Susan he was left on his own. He tried to stay in bed for a while, luxuriating in the notion that he was now in control of his own life and could sleep in if he wanted. That didn't work and the habits of a lifetime forced him up about 5 minutes after he woke up. For one thing, he had to pee.

After he showered and dressed, Joe decided to go out to breakfast instead of making it for himself. There was an IHOP or Denny's, he didn't remember which, right around the corner from his rented condo. He walked there and not being a member of the computer age, he bought a newspaper to read while he had breakfast.

At least he felt a little better after having coffee and a solid breakfast. But now he had the entire day to fill up doing something. No matter what one might say about Joe, he was a hard worker who couldn't stand to just be sitting idly by. As he walked back to his condo he figured that he would go home and check on Susan.

The notion that maybe he could convince Susan to have some conjugal relations occurred to him and put a little extra hop in his step.

Alas, that was not to be either.

He arrived home only to find that Susan wasn't there. He let himself in and there on the kitchen table was a note:

Joe,

I decided to go out of town for the weekend. There are a couple of bills you need to pay in the mail pile on the table.

.

Don't bother trying to call — my phone will be off. Talk to you next week.

Susan

Joe read it through a couple of times. Man oh man, she was sounding pretty cold. He wondered where she would have gone for the weekend? Probably her mom's house in San Diego or maybe her sister picked her up and took her back to her place in Simi.

Joe wasn't going to call either of them — it would just piss Susan off if she thought that he was checking up on her. After all, he was the one who moved out because he needed some space.

Joe picked up the mail that was sitting next to the note and went through it, picking out the bills that Susan had mentioned in her note.

When he'd come in the house Joe had noticed that the lawn could use a little mowing and trimming. He figured that at least if he took care of that, Susan would be a little less pissed off when she was back in town. She would see that he wasn't just abandoning her and was still taking his responsibilities seriously. He went out to his outdoor shed in the back and began getting the equipment ready.

It took Joe pretty much the rest of the afternoon to do the yard work that the house needed, so it was a sweaty but content Joe by that afternoon. He took a shower in the master bath and changed clothes from outfits he'd left there at the house.

That Susan might be spending the weekend with another man never occurred to Joe. He had an image of her that was based in the past — a past that he had caused her to abandon.

When her returned to his condo that evening Joe heated an instant dinner in the microwave and settled down in front of the TV and spent the evening watching sports.

~~~ 12 ~~~

In all honesty, Susan and I had just had a glorious day. It was sunny, the temperature was sublime — a perfect day for a little sightseeing. We didn't eat breakfast at the motel — we found a place down the street where no one (as far as we knew) had heard us the night before.

I had read that the Elephant Seal bulls were back on the local beaches for their annual molting or mating, or whatever it was they were doing — maybe both. So we stopped at the State Park right off the highway where you can walk along the top of the beach, safely behind fences, and look down on the huge seals with their oversized proboscis as they tussled and fought and rested on the sand. They would periodically wriggle on down the beach into the water looking for food and it was a kick to see their heads popping up and down in the surf. And there were hundreds of them.

Later in the morning, we went to Hearst's Castle State Park, William Randolph's somewhat tacky monument to himself. There are still herds of Zebras, Aoudads and other wild animals roaming the hills of the old estate, although it is the herds of cattle that pay for the upkeep on the land. The 'castle' itself has always been a bit disappointing to me. Made of poured concrete to imitate the look of the old castles of Europe, even the main halls of the estate seem like a pale imitation of the real things. I suppose that comparing Hearst's Castle to Versailles or Windsor castle is unfair, but it is how I see the thing. Don't get me going on W.R. Hearst, I never found him to be a particularly admirable character. Nevertheless, Susan and I had a great time there.

Then we popped over the mountains to Paso Robles and made it as far as Vineyard Street with its 20 something wineries along its length. We had lunch outdoors at one of the wineries that also served food, and stopped to taste at four different wineries. Paso is remarkable for the wide variety of wines and styles of wines that they produce. Paso is inland and a quite a bit warmer, so the local grape varieties tend to be the heavier reds — Zinfandels, Cabernets, Merlots, Sangiovese and the like. But some of the wineries also bring in grapes from distant cooler areas, like San Luis Obispo (Something of a joke that: SLO isn't far from Paso, but it does have its own different micro-climate.)

We also had to stop and try one of the new 'in' things — an olive oil tasting room. They grew 13 different varieties of olives on their properties and had an interesting selection of olive oils and infused olive oils — my favorites being the Lemon infused, and Basil infused, although somehow a bacon infused oil made its way into my shopping bag as well.

By late in the afternoon when Susan and I trekked back over the mountains from Paso to Cambria we weren't drunk, but we were happy.

Back in the room (thankfully cleaned and aired out) we broke open the bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and toasted each other and to having a great day.

I think it was then that Susan looked at me and asked, "What should we do for the rest of the day?"

We both broke out laughing at THAT.

I suggested that after our fairly active day that we should take a shower. Susan then asked the foolish question of the week: 'Who should go first?'

"Susan, this room has an oversized shower, if you didn't notice. That is because I have every intention of taking a shower with you."

"Oh," she replied. "Under those circumstances, last one in is a rotten egg!"

It was cheating, because she was already rising out of her chair when she used our childhood challenge. But that was all right, I was right behind her.

Thank goodness for the recent rains that had mitigated the years of drought in Central California. We could take a reasonably long shower together. It was something that Pam and I had done at every chance we had and I thought it would be a great way for Susan and I to explore each other's bodies.

It is sensuous to wash your partner; to soap them up, the whole time running your hands all over their naked bodies. Susan's breasts (somehow calling them 'tits' or 'boobs' just didn't seem to properly honor the reality — these were Breasts, with a capital 'B') and were a joy to take in hand and wash, the soap making them slippery so that my hands moved over them easily before landing on her nipples. Somehow her nipples were hard again, especially after I had played with them a bit.

I had brought real 'soap' (made from fats) not detergent bars (made from petroleum) that pass for bar soaps these days. Real soap is softer and gentler on the skin. When I did her back, I grabbed a special exfoliant cream that had little beads in it that rubbed off the dead skin, but eventually just dissolved when they had finished their work. Susan really liked that; I guess Joe wasn't in the habit of treating her like a queen in the shower.

I am serious about washing my partner. Every damn square inch of her lovely body was going to be covered. I had Susan raise her arms so that I could wash her armpits (she liked that, but if I pressed too hard, it got too tickly for her) and she was surprised when I had her sit down on the built in seat at the back of the shower and I washed both of her feet, including between her toes.

When I leaned over and took her big toe in my mouth and began to suck on it there was another one of those 'neighbor alerts' emitted. Shock, I think more than anything. I repeated what I'd told her the night before — there no part of her body that was too dirty for me to lick, suck and kiss.

Finally, I had her stand up and spread her legs to give me access to her little pussy and I made sure that I gave her a quality washing that included some definite stimulation. I turned her around after several minutes of that and soaped up my hand and slipped it back into her butt crack. I applied the soap up and down from backbone to vagina and then my fingers began their search for her nether regions.

"My oh my, watcha doing back there, Ted?"

"Making sure that you are clean as a whistle," I replied, as I moved my soapy fingers up into her anus perhaps an inch and began washing with a circular motion.

"Do you have some sort of nasty business planned for back there, by any chance?" she queried.

"Yup."

"What?"

"Just wait and see..."

We got out of the shower and were drying off when Susan seemed to be, well, examining me is the right phrase. I looked at her with a 'whassamatta' expression.

"You know Ted, you're lucky that you have a lot less hair on your body than Joe." She seemed to be looking directly at my exposed equipment.

I just laughed at her observation.

"Dear heart, I am probably just as hairy as Joe. But I trim my hair all over my body. On my head, my eyebrows, my nose, my ears, and yes, Virginia, the rest of my body as well. Otherwise, I would have hair sticking out of my clothes everywhere. But around my cock I keep it trimmed fairly close so that should I find a woman who is inspired to suck on me,"

I leered at her when I mentioned that and she blushed, "she won't have my pubic hairs tickling her nose or face and the hairs are less likely to get into her mouth. Offsetting that is that some women complain that the hairs are more 'prickly'."

"So should I trim my hair down there?" she asked, quite sincerely.

"If you want to. I'm fairly indifferent myself, but sometimes it's a nice change for a couple just to spice things up. Some women like a natural bush, others trim it down where there is only a small part left on the mound. Some shave it off completely, or even get a 'brazilian'."

"A what?" she asked. Sometimes I think that Susan must have existed on a different planet as far as her sex life was concerned.

"That's where they use hot wax and pull the hairs out by their roots. It leaves it smoother than shaving and I'm told it lasts longer before it grows back in."

Susan was sitting there shaking her head. "Oh, I've heard of that. Doesn't that hurt — a LOT?"

"I don't know. I think that varies from person to person. But tell you what, when we get back home I know of a place that does it and if you are brave enough to try it, I'll pay for it. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"That when it's done, I get to see it in all its bare naked glory!"

"I suspected that might be what you were expecting..." then she laughed.

"If I do that I will definitely have to make sure that Joe sees it too. Show him how adventurous his fat old wife has gotten."

"It will definitely rattle his image of you," I added.

~~~ 13 ~~~

I had moved the mirror again so that Susan could enjoy watching herself while she felated me.

"OK," I told her, "You'll do the same thing as you did last night, but this afternoon, I am going to cum in your mouth. I have tissues within arms reach, because when I cum you are going to keep my semen in your mouth long enough to taste it. If you find it really objectionable (as some women do) then you can spit it out into a tissue. But if it doesn't bother you, you can just swallow it. I think that most men prefer that you swallow, just because spitting it out implies there is something 'wrong' with their semen."

Susan just nodded and then she began. I was surprised at how much of my cock she took in her mouth. She clearly didn't have a huge 'gag reflex' problem. And it was a real plus that she liked have a cock in her mouth. She wasn't just doing this to get me off in place of real sex. It was a turn-on for her.

"Now," I told her, starting to tutor her a little more, "you are going to have to stop playing with your nipples because you have something else to do with that hand. Yes, you can keep playing with your pussy and clit.

"What I'm asking you to do is something that I like and I think that most men would like, but you have to see how someone else responds. Yes, oh yes, you are doing just fine. Take you hand and gently put it behind my scrotum behind my balls and use your nails to lightly caress the area back there. Yes, that's good.

"Now go ahead and move your finger back to my anus and massage it like I did to you last night. Oh yes, that feels great. This time I'm not going to have you do this, but if your finger is lubed up, you can put it up a man's butt and find his prostate gland and massage it and that is almost guaranteed to make him explode.

"You are going to finish me off now. Take your fingers and hold my cock as if you were jerking me off. You've at least done that with Joe haven't you? Sure. Start moving your hand back and forth as you put my cock in and out of your mouth."

I was going to let go pretty quickly and cum because for her first time, I wasn't going to force Susan to work on making me cum for an extended time.

"Susan, be prepared, I'm about to cum. Ah...there. Are you getting it? Yes? Good. Keep your mouth there until I've finished cumming. OK, now take your mouth off."

Susan pulled back and grinned at me and made a big production of swallowing my semen in her mouth. She licked her lips and said, "That wasn't bad at all. You don't have much taste at all, but it didn't make me want to wretch or anything."

I looked at her, "Oddly enough, that's what Pam told me too. But I guess that different men's semen taste different as well. I understand that there are things that a man can eat or change in his diet that will effect the taste."

"So, Ted, now what?"

"What would you enjoy, my sweet?"

"Hmmmm..." she smiled shyly at me. "Could you play with my ass again like you did last night?"

"You wish is my command, sweetheart. Actually, I was hoping that you might want to explore that a little more," I told her with a grin.

I began with oral sex on her while she was lying on her back, but when she was starting to get excited enough to orgasm, I suddenly had her get up on her hands and knees with her ass back towards the edge of the bed. Once again I reached into my bag of tricks and pulled out a vibrator that could go into her pussy as well as vibrating and putting pressure on her clitoris.

I knew that Susan's pussy was plenty wet to take the vibrator and presented it to her mouth to get it moist for its initial entry. Then I slowly started moving it in and out, deeper in each time until it was going in all its length so that her clitoris was feeling the pressure and vibration as well. Once there, I held it in and moved up close behind her.

I began to blow a gentle stream of air up and down her anal area. She jerked as soon as I started that, but that was hardly anything compared to what I had in store. Because I followed up by giving her a good rimming, my tongue circling her anus but not actually touching there yet.

She seemed fairly enthused, as her entreaties of "PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE," started to pick up in volume.

She was already getting VERY close to orgasming again so I knew it was now, or it would be too late. So I moved my tongue to her anus and began to lick her up and down and pushing my tongue in, putting pressure that she could feel my tongue entering her ass. That, of course, kicked off her orgasm and she started her bucking bronco routine from the night before again.

Did I mention that Susan could be a tad on the loud side? At that point my main hope was that no one would be in their rooms in the afternoon before dinner time. At least the things she was broadcasting to the world were all quite flattering to me.

A thought struck me, that it certainly seemed like it would be impossible for Susan to fake an orgasm. I don't think that you can voluntarily vibrate your body like a tuning fork. Susan claimed that she didn't normally cum hard enough to cause her body to lose control that way.

That, though, was the high point of the day. We took a short nap before showering (again — this time fairly quickly,) dressing and going out for dinner. We actually just slept together that night without making love again. Get serious: we are both in our mid-50's for god's sake, not a couple of teenagers. We need recovery time.

~~~ 14 ~~~

Anyone who has driven back south towards L.A. on the 101 freeway from central California on a Sunday afternoon will completely understand our dilemma. In a word, traffic. It starts in earnest south of Santa Barbara, in the vicinity of Montecito at about 4:00 in the afternoon; once past that one drives right along the ocean (its absolutely beautiful on a clear day) until at the southern end of Ventura where it once again slows to a crawl.

It can be bad through Camarillo and up the Camarillo grade as well, but once one is in Thousand Oaks — well, from there to L.A. there is no redemption. Slow. Too many cars. Oh my blood pressure!

So Susan and I decided to dawdle and wend our way ever so slowly back to the great metropolis.

We slept in and took a leisurely shower together. We walked down Moonstone Beach holding hands like of couple of newlyweds and bought breakfast at one of the restaurants lining the beachfront road (I was still unable to face our neighbors who might eat the free breakfast at our hotel.) We got back, packed and barely checked out before the 11:00 AM deadline. I was prepared to explain that my girlfriend was an aspiring opera singer who had been practicing scales in our room, but other than a slight smirk from the desk clerk, we checked out unscathed.

By the time that we passed Morro rock, THE landmark in Morro Bay, the early morning overcast had completely burned away. We didn't stop in SLO, but continued our drive south until we reached the exit for Solvang. We went to one of the restaurants that had outdoor seating where we ordered beers and ate Danish style sausage with red cabbage and potatoes for lunch.

Solvang is a touristy sort of place, but it's still a lot of fun. We stopped in some of the unique shops — for example, there is one place that specializes in Christmas decorations and paraphernalia all year long — and I stopped and picked up some fresh bread from a well-known bakery in town. Confession time: we also bought some really decadent Danish pastries that we ate there and a couple more to take home as well. Honestly, it was a disastrous weekend for diets!

For the sake of culture, we even visited the Mission Santa Ynez, which is on the east end of Solvang. It is one of the California missions founded in the 1700's by the Franciscan fathers along the Camino Real (the King's Highway) from San Diego to north of San Francisco. Santa Ynez was actually one of the last of the California missions to be established — in 1769. On a Sunday afternoon it was a quiet and peaceful. It always reminds me just how 'new' we are on the West Coast — there is almost nothing older than the missions here. Go to Europe and you find castles and cathedrals that were built 800 years earlier than our missions. And don't even bring up places like Egypt!