I was with a woman whom I had been seeing frequently. She was very pretty and slender; she had long brown hair. I was around 28 years old; the woman was only about 20. Due to the age difference, I felt much older than she and I was clearly the dominant personality of the pair. Other people had commented disapprovingly about our age difference. Their comments didn't really perturb me, but my own personal feelings did bother me. I simply felt I was too old for the woman and that I should terminate the relationship.
I hadn't had sex with the woman, although I felt she was willing, indeed that she was simply waiting for me to make the overture. I did want to have sex with her. However, I felt I would only be taking advantage of her youth if I gave into my feelings; with reluctance I decided I was going to have to terminate the relationship even before having sex.
I told the woman of my decision. She didn't seem to believe her ears; she stared at me in a state of shock. I drew no pleasure from hurting her; but I didn't feel terribly bad about it because I felt she would soon heal and everything would work out for the best. In the past I had experienced the same kind of feelings myself and I had been able to recuperate. I felt satisfied about my decision to not have sex with her; sex would have caused both of us much more pain when we separated.
I left the woman and found my mother. No one else knew it, but my mother and I had been having sex together for quite a while. The sex had begun rather innocently, but had developed into a routine event. However, I had recently put an end to our activity and had informed my mother of such. This day, however, when I saw my mother, I could tell she wanted to have sex; I felt as if I might indeed have sex with her one more time. I pressed close to her and in no time we were nude together. I lay on top of her and began trying to insert my penis into her vagina. My penis seemed to have been cut off so that only about two or three centimeters were left. Nevertheless, I managed to insert the stub into my mother and began having intercourse with her.
When we had finished, I felt bad. I again informed my mother of my decision to cease our activity. She didn't seem to care one way or the other; but I began to realize she actually was undergoing some severe emotional difficulty due to our relationship. Indeed, it occurred to me that I likewise was suffering mentally because of our having sex together. I seemed to have discussed the matter with someone, but I could not discern exactly what had been concluded. I did however think it would be wise at this point to talk with someone capable of dealing with such problems about what had been going on; Rembert crossed my mind.
My mother and I parted. I went to a high-class and, I thought, expensive bar. Many round tables were sitting in a spacious room. I sat down at a table with the woman with whom I had earlier broken up. However, she no longer looked like the same woman. She was much older; indeed, she seemed to be my age; she was still pretty, although she looked different. I realized the woman looked like Caryl (a former high school classmate) and indeed thought she was Caryl.
A number of people were in the bar; some seemed to be gathered around our table at times. I thought I noticed my sister there. I hadn't been seated long when Waddell walked up. He immediately went to the woman seated with me; it became clear that they were now together. I talked with Waddell and learned that he indeed was in love with the woman. He knew I had seen her before; but he also knew I hadn't been intimately involved with her. I was surprised to see the two together and commented, "You never know how things are going to turn out."
I detected a bit of animosity on Waddell's part; the animosity seemed to stem from jealousy. I told Waddell I would be leaving the area soon; he told me he already knew I was leaving and he wasn't sorry to hear it. I good-naturedly informed him I would be back. I told him I had a cabin I had built in the area and I was sure to return to it. However, I said it would probably be two years before I returned.
It seemed as if I needed to be away for a couple of years. The relationships and affairs I had been involved in were going to need some time to heal.
The woman had drunk one alcoholic drink while we had been here; I had also had an alcoholic drink. When Waddell sat down he had two quick alcoholic drinks and said he would pick up the checks for everyone. Before I knew it, however, Waddell and the woman had left and the checks were still lying on the table. Since I was ready to leave, I picked up the checks and walked with them to the bar.
The woman's alcohol had cost $12 and mine had cost $12. Waddell's two alcoholic drinks had cost $24. I reflected how the woman had just seemed to have assumed that someone would pay for her alcohol. She apparently thought that was simply the price of being able to be seen with an attractive woman in a public place like this. I thought that was probably the way Louise used to think. Indeed I knew Louise, as pretty and desirable as she was, wouldn't have any problem having men flock around her to be seen with her and pay for her alcohol.
It seemed rather peculiar that I had actually spent so much time with Louise. She was so different from me. It didn't seem I would have been the kind of person she would have wanted to have been with since she could have obviously had her pick among so many.
Someone stepped up to me from behind the counter; I began explaining that only one of the alcoholic drinks on the checks was mine, for which I would pay. The others belonged to someone else. Suddenly Haim walked up; I thought it was he instead of Waddell who had earlier offered to pay for the checks. I handed them to him and told him he had left and forgotten to pay. He looked at the amounts and seemed disconcerted because they were so high. I noticed his displeasure and told him not to worry about my alcohol because I would pay for it myself. He quietly acquiesced to my request.
Dream Epics Home Page
Copyright 2003 by firstname.lastname@example.org