GON #12: Day 2 Together 1

Getting Old Now

Chicago, Illinois

Saturday, October 20, 1998

Early Morning

“Mmmm. Come back, baby...” Barbara muttered, wiggling her fingers in a ‘come on’ motion. “...lay...” she fell asleep.

The blanket slipping from her shoulder and, looking at Barbara’s large, sleep creased breast, purposely helping the blanket along, I slipped back into bed.

However feeling the motion, her arm draping over my hip, snuggling against me, cuddling against me with her head beneath my chin...

“Mmmm, you’re cool.”

Bringing her sleep-warmed body closely against my shower cooled body. Feeling the softness of her breasts and the length of her body against mine. My face now in her hair, my hand over her hip holding a so warm, so soft dimpled cheek while thinking: this is all I want for whatever time we have left together, to be close to this woman.

Turning from me, becoming ‘spoon number one’ as remaining beneath the blanket as “Mmmm…” reaching behind, putting her hand onto my bare hip as wiggling her chubby, but to me, beautiful behind tightly into the arch of my body.

All I want for whatever time I have left of this life is be close to this woman.

Sex not even a thought at this moment… Sex, ‘maybe’ not even a thought at this moment. “You feel so warm ans so good.” I said.

Moving her hand from my hipt, reaching between our arched bodies… Covering it completely, Barbara’s hand closed over my still sleeping, still shriveled dick.

Then, a few seconds later...

“Oh...” she said “...that’s sooo cute!”

Though knowing, moving my head alongside hers so as to see her face. “What’s ‘so cute’?” I asked in a good natured way.

When a committed man and woman are together, in time a part of their– usually friendly, usually humorous repartee will turn to good natured bantering.

However, when a lifetime must be lived in three days, the good nattered bantering might show up a bit sooner then ‘in time’.

Thinking I knew what Barbara meant, moving my head alongside hers to so as to see her face. “What’s so cute?”

Turning her head so I might better see her face. “Your teeny weenie.”

“ ‘My teeny weenie’, huh!” Playfully pushing Barbara onto her back, I attempted to kiss her, but...

Covering her mouth with her hand, “Oh, baby, let me brush my teeth first!”

“No!” I said, attempting to slip my mouth beneath her hand. “ ‘I want to kiss you’!” I said in a very authoritative voice. “ ‘Now’!”

“No, I’m too stinky.”

“Okay, then, I agree, ‘you are stinky’!”

Pushing me back, “What do you mean ‘I are stinky’?”

Barbara’s hands off her mouth, I kissed her lightly on the lips. “Yeah, you’re right! You really are stinky!” Although, actually she wasn't.

“And you’re a teeny weenie!”

Kissing me on the nose then rolling over me, I watched the movement of her backside as she went into the bathroom.

Hearing tinkling of urine, and a few seconds later…

“What time’s it?”

Walking to the bathroom, “Five-fifty-five.” And again standing at the open door, watching the reflection of Barbara’s jiggling breasts in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. No sooner did she spit the foam into the sink, no sooner did she rinse her mouth than my mouth was onto her mouth.

Breast to chest, belly to belly, thighs to thighs, hugging tightly, her hands clutching me, my hands clutching her, nude, we stood tightly together in the bathroom.

“Hey, baby...” poking her on the thigh “...see...” I said, “...it ain’t no ‘teeny weenie’ anymore.”

Reaching down, “Yeah...” holding me “...I see! Wanna hop in the shower with me?”

“I just took a shower.”

“So...” she said friendly/sternly “...what’s your point?”

Adjusting the hot and cold water. Stepping into the tub first then holding her hand, I helped Barbara into the tub.

“Here…” pouring liquid soap onto the washcloth “...turn around.”

Scrubbing my back… My ass. Rubbing the soapy cloth around my thighs… Oh, God, this feels good!

The last time my back had been scrubbed was thirty-five years ago, when Elizabeth Herzon dd the scrubbing.

“Your turn.”

Lightly rubbing the cloth over her back and ass and between her thighs… And over her tummy and over chest… Watching as the circumference of Barbara’s light pink nipples darkened and tightened.

Hot water streaming onto me, onto her. Kissing, our bodies now tightly encircled by her arms, by my arms.

Kissing...

Our lips parting and our eyes opening, both of us looked into the eyes of the other as, reaching to me...

“Uh…?” Glancing downward. “Mitchie, where’d it go?”

“Honey, making love to...fucking you in this shower would be great and you ‘know’ I’d love to do it, but…” Seeing concern on her face. “Honey, I’m a sixty-four year old guy and to screw in a shower, standing up, a guy would either have to be some kind of a contortionist or have much more than...”

Looking downward, Barbara’s eyes following mine.

“...a teeny weenie.” I said in mock sadness.

Catching the jocular tone, looking up, she smiled.

“Maybe, baby, forty years ago it would’ve worked, but now?” I shrugged my shoulders.

“That’s okay, honey, just being here with you is all I really want.”

“Me, too, baby. Just being here with you like this is a dream to me. But I ‘really’ wanted to.”

“I know, and we’ll try again later, honey. But anyway, I’m really nervous about today.”

Truly disappointed in myself, at this time wanting nothing more than to fuck Barbara in the shower: Oh, well... I thought … there’s always tonight, and a little blue pill.

Stepping from the tub, handing Barbara one of the two bath towels hanging from a bar over the toiler.

“You’re going to do great today, baby!”

“Glad you think so, honey.”

Knowing today’s poetry contest, and the reason Barbara and I were here in Chicago, had to be weighing on her mind.

Scrubbing the towel across my back, drying my back. “And remember, I’m going to be right there cheering you on.”

Barbara’s foot onto the toilet cover, drying one leg, “I know, honey...” then the other. “…and you have no idea how glad I am that you are here with me.”

6:45 AM

Waiting for Barbara to finish doing what women do, sitting on one of the leather sofas in the Allerton lobby looking outside through one of the large windows facing frigid looking, sleet blown, Michigan Avenue .

Mitchell Lipensky had been away from Chicago for better than forty years, yet the remembrance of walking Michigan and Wabash Avenues on many days such as this – and ‘far’ worse days than this day while canvasing advertising agencys for his father’s commercial photography business hitting a bitter, cold nerve.

Coming from one of the two banks of three elevators, “There you are!”

“Hi, baby!” Standing as Barbara approached.

“Looks really shitty out there today, mind if we eat…” nodding his head towards a hallway beyond the elevators “…breakfast at the coffee shop here today?”

“You’re right, does look really shitty out there. No. The coffee shop’l be fine.”

6:55 AM

Addressing the waitress in the ‘Allerton Hotel Coffee Shop’.

“Orange juice...” Barbara said “...eggs over easy, bacon, soft, whole wheat toast and coffee.”

“Yes, Ma’am... You, Sir?”

“I’ll have eggs over medium...” looking at the waitress “...I don’t like them hard or runny.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Sausage, hash-browns fried crispy, a toasted bagel and coffee.”

Waiting until the waitress left. Well knowing Barbara’s answer, asking anyway, “You nervous?”

“Yes I am, ‘very’! I told you I was really shy!”

Smiling. “You sure couldn’t tell it by me.”

Thinking she knew what I was referring to, which in fact I was: The scene in the Airport yesterday… was it ‘only’ yesterday … when she came to me and gave me a big kiss, without knowing if it was really me.

Turning a bit red, Barbara blushed.

As though loath to be further than within a hands reach, sitting closely side by side in the booth. Squeezing her thigh, “Yesterday at the airport...” I said, teasing her, “...that kiss you gave a perfect stranger...”

“You weren’t a a perfect stranger.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know that when you planted that big fat juicy kiss on what may have been a perfect stranger.”

“I saw pictures of you, remember?”

“Yeah, sure! And then last night...”

“...I want you to know, Mitchie, I’ve ‘never’ done that before, not even close to it! Not even with my husband.”

“I know, honey.” lifting her hand, I kissed it.

“No matter what, I want you to know, I’ll never forget last night, Mitchie.”

“Yeah, me, too.” Quiet a moment, remembering the promise I made to myself to not to allow myself to think of tomorrow. Forcing my mind elsewhere... “Uh, so what are you going to recite?”

“You’ll see.”

Glancing at my watch, “When are we supposed to be there?”

“It starts at nine, but they want us there at least a half hour earlier so we can find our group.”

“Who are you going to introduce me as?”

“Who would you like me to introduce you as?”

My hand still on her thigh, squeezing it lightly, “Your husband.” I said softly.

“Oh, Mitchie...” Barbara’s eyes becoming glassy “...I only wish.”

“Yeah, Barb, me, too.”

Waiting the minute until my own glassy eyes returned to normal.. Motioning to the waitress, then to my near empty coffee cup.

Refilling my cup, the waitress refilled Barbara’s also.

Afraid to speak. Unwilling to allow the thought of ‘tomorrow’ to chock us up, the rest of breakfast remained in silence.

8:42 AM

The convention hall of the Allerton Hotel moderately crowded.

“Welcome, ladies and gentleman...” standing upon the stage, the contest moderator said “...this competition; our second annual ‘International, Internet Poetry Competition’ is, ‘first,’to meet our fellow poets and ‘second’ to hear the thoughts and writings of our wonderful, previously commercially unpublished poets. Then to offer the prize of publishing, in a hard back edition, the writings of the winner of this year’s competition, along with the guaranteed placement in at least one major book marketing chain.”

After searching the large room for a few minutes, we found the ‘TheWritersPlace.com’ representative, who’s name I cannot remember, along with the other two semi-contestants: one male and one female, who’s names I also cannot remember.

Next Gon #13: Day 2; Together 2 (The contest)