GON#9: Day One; Together 4
Getting Old Now
Chicago, Illinois
10/19/98
9:05 PM
Licking a bit more salt from the rim of the empty Margarita glass. “In our hundreds of Emails, you never mentioned a ‘nudist park’.”
“It was almost eleven years ago and most people don't understand the way things really are at a place like Elysium.”
“I sure as hell don’t.”
“I never mentioned Elysium because I knew you wouldn’t understand, most people don’t, and most guys think that they’ll walk around with a hard-on all day but it isn’t like that.
“ ‘Mostly young people there?”
“No, actually older people..At least most of those I met, and all those that I was friendly with were older than you are now."
“This girl you met..”
“ ‘Woman’. Sandy was fifty at the time.”
“Six years older than me…” a hint of jealousy coloring her tone of voice “… you have a ‘thing’ for older women?”
“Barbara…” taking her hand “… Sandy wasn’t an ‘older woman’ to me back then because I was fifty-two at the time , and now the only woman I have a ‘thing’ for is you.”
“Yes!”
“ ‘Yes’ what?”
“I would like desert!”
“Me, too. They say…”
“Who say?”
Glad to see humor returning to our conversation, that throughout the course of dinner had turned too serious.
“ Who say? ‘Television’ say! Television says ‘Ruth’s Chris’ has ‘wonderful’, home-made cheese cake. You like cheese cake?”
“Mitchie, I’d ‘love’ to share a slice of that ‘wonderful’ home-made cheese cake with you!”
Looking about the large dining room for our waiter – Good waiters seemingly can sense when a customer wants to order desert because…
Noting me looking about, motioning to a young man wearing a white smock; both making their way about the tables of other diners, coming to our table…
“Would you care for desert?” The water politely asked as the young ma in the white smock began his chore of placing our used and no longer needed dishes and silverware onto the large tray he’d carried.
“Yes, pleas…” remembering that Barbara had referred to me as her ‘husband’ when checking into the hotel “...my wife and I…” watching Barbara’s reaction “... would like to share a slice of cheese cake and…” still looking across the table – reminding me of ‘Elizabeth Herzon’ all those (quick calculation) thirty-six years ago, on that morning when she tried to make me breakfast and fried the one egg in salad oil was when I realized we rally knew so little about each other – and now I don’t even know if “...coffee?” I asked Barbara.
“Yes, Please.”
Notation:
During our months of Emailing, when we spoke of our lives and shortly our mutual love, I learned of Barbara’s lock-down life and of her uncaring, unfeeling, more than slightly controlling husband:
beachbaby.global.com
As far as Charles goes, it’s not too difficult to explain him.
We’ve been together for a number of years and guess we loved each other. But we are two different people and always have been.
We probably should not have gotten married, but did when I was very young, just 21. No one knows what they are doing at 21. Naturally we thought we knew it all.
Lippy1.fatboy.net
When we got married, Marsha was nineteen and I was twenty-one, so I understand what you mean because her and me didn’t know shit.
beachbaby.global.com
Chuck’s not a bad man in any way It’s just that he is very different from me and we have no common interests or likes and usually are in disagreement over everything from what movie to watch. Whether to have Chinese or Pizza. Who should be elected president and the death penalty. You name it and if there’s a disagreement to be had, Chuck and I have it.
Lippy1.fatboy.net
Sounds familiar, baby.
beachbaby.global.com
I do take my vows seriously though. If I didn’t, I would have been gone many years ago I imagine. But I’ve tried to stick it out but it has gotten much more difficult as I want so much more in my life than I have had or probably will ever have.
I don’t speak of material things either, Mitch. I am not easily impressed with wealth or having “things”.
I am driven by emotion and never seem to have my emotional needs
fulfilled in any way, including sex.
I’m sure if you asked my husband if he was happy, he’d say, it’s ok” and leave it at that.
Chuck’s main interest, most likely his only interest, is cars. He’s a car nut. Lives, eats and breathes cars.
He and a couple of his buddies own a souped up stock e car with all the shiny ‘bells and whistles’ that they used to, but no longer race, but drag it to car shows all the time. It is his pride and joy and I have given it the nickname “The Bitch” as I think of if as the “other woman” in his life.
I think everyone should have something they enjoy, like my writing is to me. I love to write. But Chuck has no interest in anything else, including spending any time at all with me. And even if he spent time with me, we wouldn’t enjoy each other or any time we spent together.
So it is what it is and I am generally very sad when I allow myself to think about it.
So I think I’ve covered everything you’ve asked about, right? You’re probably shaking your head saying “sheesh, I didn’t need all that!” lol.
So whatcha think Mitchie?”
Lippy1.fatboy.net
‘What I think’, Barb?
Know what I think? I think you lead a
terrible and terribly lonely life with ‘Chuck’.
It sounds like you’re usually ignored by your
husband. When he’s home, does he expect
you to be with him or him with you?
Being a partner in a stock car with all the shiny ‘bells and whistles’ that your husband and his pals own, but no longer race, but do show at car shoes, has to be quite an expensive hobby.
If you don't mind, what does he do for a living?
beachbaby.global.com
My husband doesn't spend time with me, but when he is home he loves to interrupt me every two minutes (it seems) for nonsense or to tell mes something about what he wants or something he needs, or something to complain about like money, etc., That type of thing.
There is no joy or light moments between us and I really need joy in my life. I also need laughter. I love to laugh and be light but Charles seems like really doesn't.
Seeing as you asked, he’s an auto mechanic and works in a local Ford dealership.
Lippy1.fatboy.net
I hope to think that our knowing each other, at least as much and in the way we know each other , helps to brings something more than the sadness you’re telling me about.
Barb, I’d love to be able to spend some happy, personal time with you!
Notation:
Seemingly Barbara had ‘so’ much she wanted and needed to get off her chest...
beachbaby.global.com
He doesn't “expect” me to be with him, he only “expects” me to always be here and loves to check on what I'm doing but really couldn’t care less. In truth, in my opinion Charles doesn’t care so long as I'm here and he’s very controlling.
And yes, his car hobby is very expensive, but that’s just fine with him, even though all he does is complain about money and how broke we are. But he can spend whatever he wants on the “bitch”.
Notation:
These personal Email descriptions of the sad, lonely life Barbara leads with her husband, of course became our rational… Our excuse for this weekend. For Barbara and my weekend together. For Barbara and me making love together. For Barbara and me ‘Fucking’ together and ‘especially’ showing our love for each other.
Except, of course, I am a single man.
At that time, not wanting compare or to compete with Barbara’s sad marriage with my own sad marriage through Emails, I never wrote of the hard to believe details of Marsha’s hatred of me and my own marital problems.
As for ‘Elysium’?
As for my escape to Elysium and attempt to find a new and more exciting life ? Attempting to explain my emotions while naked with other naked people, both men and women, were not details I wanted to try to explain at this time – when Barbara and my ‘true ’ time together is so limited.
****
Cups of steaming black coffee before us. A decorative plate containing a fairly large slice of strawberry topped cheese cake on the table between us, Barbara and me cutting into and forking small chunks of cheese cake from plate to mouth.
Taking another careful sip of hot coffee, “Tell me...” I said
“...so often your poetry... So often I had the feeling that you were writing to me and only to me.”
Closing her eyes, savoring the rich taste of ‘Ruth’s Chris’ home-made cheese cake.
“You’re right, baby, I was – A lot of what I wrote, I wrote just for you.”
You did you job good, then, honey, because I really felt it. Reading ‘you’! Reading what you wrote, sometimes I actually imagined myself with you.”
Taking sip of coffee. “Mitchie, that’s what I want! I want you to feel it... I want you to feel me as you read each line I write. I want you to feel my mouth…”
Her eyes intent, staring into my eyes.
“I want you to feel each kiss traveling down your body...” she said softly, passionately “...I want you to hear your name being whispered between the kisses. I want your skin becoming wet from my tongue.”
Stopping, blinking her eyes a number of times and taking another drink of coffee.
“That is what I write! I write for you as if it is happening right then, at that very moment and, baby...” squeezing my hand “...I actually feel it myself, I actually feel my lips touching your bare skin, I actually hear myself whispering your name and tasting your skin and, ‘oh, God’! In my mind I’m actually holding…” leaning froward, bringing her head closer to me, whispering “...and kissing your cock.”
Knowing this to be a reality. Knowing that Barbara and I would be in this position, whit my mouth onto and my tongue into her pussy… Knowing this as ‘a soon to happen actuality’, I felt the pressure on my upper thigh as my dick swelled alongside my trouser thigh.
Forcing her passion and emotion down – but not mine, Barbara’s eyes fixed on my face, “That’s what I always try to put into whatever and whenever I write about us.”
Hesitating… Speaking softly. Barbara’s eyes closed, the sound of her voice as though within a tightly sealed sphere of light containing only her and me:
“My lips render promises
in a path of kisses
from the Nirvana
of your neck
to the vale
of your navel
as I whisper your name
with each breath
my tongue
breaking your silence
as you sigh
into the night.”
Trying not to think of how short our time together will be.
Then what for Barbara, for me. ?
Tears coming now from Barbara, from me...
Softly, softly spoken: “I love you!” Bringing her hand to my
lips, I kissed it, turning her hand palm up, kissing it again, “I love you!”
Placing her hand flat upon the side of my face, “I love you, Mitchell.”
In a large public restaurant, after all. Glancing about to see if anyone might be watching us… If anyone was, they were discreetly, and I did not see.
One bite size piece of cheese cake remaining on the decorative plate,
“You!”
“No…” shaking her head“...you!”
Spearing the one renaming piece of cheese cake, holding the fork to her mouth, Barbara accepted.
“Anything else you want, Baby?”
“Yeah.”
“ ‘Yeah’, what?”
“Just you, Mitch, just you.”
I motioned to our waiter.
Next GON # 10:Day one;Together 5
