Return Engagement

Everybody calls me Larry. That's not as a short form of Lawrence either. It's for Laramie. You see, the naming concept my parents used was to name us kids after the city where we were conceived. Mostly they knew, we moved a lot but not that much. Dad was a construction iron worker who chased the big jobs -- what people in the trade call a boomer. I attended five different primary schools and two different high schools. I'm not going to mention the names of my two sisters and brother because they still go by their conception-city names.

I was in the Corte Madera Village Right Aid store when I heard a faintly-familiar female voice calling, "Laramie, Laramie Shifter, wait!"

Turning, the first thing that caught my eye was a head of short cropped silvery blonde hair that somehow looked just as familiar as the voice sounded. Damn, but I really wanted to recall the name that went with it because at medium height, perfect body mass, reasonable tits and pretty face, she wasn't one I wanted to pass up.

I was too slow. "It's me! Jeanne, Jeanne Gladstone! From San Anselmo!"

Then it started coming back. "Oh yeah, sorry." And out popped the first lie I could dream up. "My mind was wrapped up trying not to forget the stuff I need to pick up." Then switching back to the truth, I told her how glad I was to see her and began to show I cared. "Gee it's great to see you. How are you Jeanne?"

"Oh fine, really fine. Well you know of course that Joe and I remarried."

(When she said 'Joe,' lots of stuff came back. Like her affected pronunciation, for example pronouncing 'Joe' with two syllables instead of one, 'Jeh-oh.' Like 'Joe' was too short and it'd get more elegant if she drug it out. Or maybe she thought making his name longer would make his dick longer. But I really shouldn't have held it against her because lots of American's -- especially women - do that. Maybe they think it sounds sophisticated. The other explanation is that Americans don't give a flying fuck about English, after all the 21st century was not even a fifth over and they'd already elected two presidents who couldn't speak two consecutive sentences of grammatically correct and coherent English.)

Of course I knew that she and Joe had remarried. A half a year or so after I'd drifted away from her, I was stuck in a dry spell and decided to try and go back. When I rang, a man answered and I reacted too slow; instead of hanging up, I'd asked for her. Surprisingly, he'd put her on. That's when she'd told me that she and Joe had remarried. I'd wished her luck and got off the line as quickly as I could.

Dare I hope that they were splitting again? My mind flashed back to her very pretty pussy, blonde pubic hair with a rare silver tone. When we'd met, her silver blonde hair struck me as being so rare that I figured she toned it. I found out different when her panties came off.

"Jeanne, that's a phone call I won't forget. Talk about a tense situation; your husband picking up the phone." I couldn't very well ask if the marriage was going better the second time around so I asked by making a statement. "Well, you seem happy so things must be going well. Like the second time is a charm."

"We had lots of issues to work out but we managed to cover a lot of that while we were still dating -- before we remarried. Like we shoulda done before we got married the first time. Say, Larry. You still don't go by Laramie do you? I called 'Laramie' before so I'd be sure it was you. There's nobody else in the world named Laramie. Anyway, if you got time, how about we go to Boudin's for a coffee and catch up on things?"

Disappointed that we wouldn't be catching up on what I would have liked to catch up on, I almost told her a lie about being in a hurry. Well maybe she'd tell me some juicy gossip about common friends or better yet, herself -- so I told her another lie. "Say that'd be great. Boy what a pleasant surprise running into you here."

After we sat down and ordered, she didn't waste any time asking if I was seeing anyone, like serious seeing someone. I decided to tell the truth and when she learned that I was unattached, she said she was sorry I hadn't found someone. Her face told me she wasn't all that deeply sorry.

I was having trouble thinking of what to say but Jeanne filled in nicely, beginning with reminisces of when we met and dated. "Remember where we met? That bar on Caledonia in Sausalito. What's it called anyway? Fred's or Ray's or something like that. My divorce with Joe had just become final. I was really relieved to be single again. Anyway I never forget how you ambled up and started talking. I was there with my sister Nadia. On the way home she kept telling me I'd really fallen for you." Then with a caring look, she asked if I minded the reminiscing.

I did but I wasn't about to tell her because if she continued and got into details, she'd get to the part about our first and subsequent dates and I'd get a nice hard-on. So I just smiled and shook my head that I didn't mind.

"Our first date, remember how you took me for a bike ride. I'd taken Rick and Carrie over to Nadia's. Remember that apartment in Greenbrae where I was living then? We rode to Fairfax and got a pizza at some place on Broadway. I felt like I was finally living again. I think I told you then that when we married, Joe and I were barely 21 and both virgins. It was like I went from parents to husband."

I decided to chip in and maybe get her in a mood that would be to my benefit. "Yeah, I remember you told me that on your first night, neither you or Joe knew quite what to do. Lot's of fumbling, false starts, things not working."

"Oh God, when I think of all I told you on our first date! Well, that part is better now. That first night with him was really a disaster. Imagine, first he couldn't get hard. Then when he finally got it up, I was too dry for him to get it in. I jacked him off and he came all over my belly. Then of course he couldn't get it up anymore so we decided we sleep and try again in the morning. Except we didn't sleep, just tossed and turned. In the morning we were too tired and he still couldn't get it up. I think it was a few days before a penetration finally worked and then it was a big disappointment, which would have been okay except the disappointments didn't stop."

"Well Jeanne, it sure wasn't that way with us."

"It sure wasn't. You sure knew what to do. I was sopping wet before you even got my bra off. And the way you seemed to know I was ready."

"Come on Jeanne, what made you think I seemed to know you were ready?"

"Simple. Right there in the living room of that Greenbrae apartment, you took down your jeans and shorts and showed me your hard penis. You know Larry, aside from Joe, you were the first guy I ever fucked."

"Aside from Joe's, mine was the first adult penis you'd ever seen." This was my idea of reminiscing and I was going to push it as far as it would go. "You were really curious about my being circumcised. "

"Well I should have been. Joe wasn't." Then after a little giggle, she continued. "Still isn't."

"Bother you any -- I mean going back to dealing with a hood?"

"Not with Joe. Look Larry, you showed me how things can be. After you drifted away, not all the guys who fulfilled my needs were cut. First couple were, but then there was Wayne - woodworking teacher from Novato. When his shorts came off and I saw the skin over the head, he noticed the look on my face. Real considerate guy. Went easy with me. Showed me how he washed it, let me play with it for a while. Showed me all the special ways to give head to a natural."

"So now Joe's benefitting from Wayne's considerate ways?"

"Oh you bet. But I had to work with Joe for a while. See, I never sucked him off the first time we were married. Never kissed it, never had it in my mouth. Now I've got him in my mouth every time -- well not every time, but sure, pretty often anyways."

"And you Jeanne. Look I don't want to probe, but does Joe go down on you?"

"Oh yeah. When we'd dated a few times and things got intimate, that was the first thing he did. Before we fucked. Licked me from top to bottom. That first time, I thought he was gonna wear out my clit with his tongue."

"Joe ever ask if you'd fucked anybody while you were single between the marriages?"

"He did but he didn't actually need to. He'd asked friends, did a little spying, the kids mentioned guys who stayed overnight."

"And he got past that okay?"

"At first he said he didn't wanna hear about it. Then it changed. He couldn't help noticing how I was better, more adventurous. Wasn't long, he asked."

"You mean like who, stuff that happened?"

"Joe wanted to know everything. Names, first names anyway; last names I wouldn't give him. How big they were, whether they were cut or not, how many times they could get it up a night. I started wishing I'd had a ruler and tape recorder in the bedroom. Wanted to know how we did it. Missionary, doggie style, standing, on the couch -- all stuff like that. I shoulda had a camera."

"So if I understand you right Jeanne, Joe knows all about me, size, circumcision, virility, hair on my chest, etc. Right?"

"Well yeah, right. That you like to get it out first, before you took my panties off. But not your last name. That I kept back. Like with all the others too."

"So Joe would have a hard time tracing me? By the way does he hunt? Own a gun?"

"Larry, really! Joe's not the vengeful type! And he's not bitter at you, or any of the others. Actually, just the opposite. He sees that it's better for him now. Like he's benefitting from all you guys who fucked me between our marriages."

Both of us were quiet for a bit. I broke the silence. "So all's well that ends well." I told her I was really happy it all worked out for her, and by extension for Joe as well. This time I wasn't lying.

Before we parted, she told me how much she appreciated our conversation and hoped we'd meet again sometime. I gave her an open ended invitation answer by telling her where I worked and that she could reach me there if ever she needed to.

When she got up to leave, I reached over to shake hands but didn't get up all the way. Jeanne may not be the brightest girl in town, but she knew some practical stuff. "Larry, it's okay if you don't get up all the way. Difference between boys and girls. I'm a little worked up too but my wet doesn't make a bulge like your swelling does." With that she turned and left. Sure that that was the last I'd see of Jeanne, I sat down and had another cappuccino while my erection subsided.

Not long afterwards, I met Carly, a girl working in the county assessor's office. We got along well and started dating on a more or less regular basis. She liked outdoor stuff like me and we made bike trips and weekend backpacks together; even talked about skiing together come winter. Sex with Carly was decent and reliable if not mind blowing.

As the months went by, memory of the chance meeting with Jeanne slipped further and further to the back of my mind and I became more and more convinced it had been a one-of and I'd never see her again. The truth was that I couldn't care less. Sure, sex with her had been great, she had a good sense of humor, and was easy to be around, but there was one big problem with Jeanne: Intellectually she was boring as hell, so boring that sometimes it really got me pissed off. If I'd learned something interesting and told her, she'd listen all ears. But if it was something I doubted or questioned and asked her what she thought, I'd get this blank look as she was trying to think up an answer that would sound good. Often as not her answers would show she hadn't a clue as to what I'd been talking about.

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Then one Tuesday afternoon I returned from a meeting and the whole business with Jeanne resurfaced. As I entered our office, Dianne, our group administrative assistant handed me a note. "Lady called for you. Here's the name and number." Then with a smile and wink, she went on. "Didn't wanna tell me what the problem was."

Back at my desk, I looked at the note and then at the ceiling trying to decide whether to ring the number or pitch the note in the waste basket. I sure didn't want a repeat of her husband answering the phone. On the other hand, maybe she got fed up with Joe again and would be available for a wild ride in the sack.

"Hello, Gladstone residence."

"Hi Jeanne."

"Oh Larry, I'm so glad you called. Great hearing your voice again. How are you?"

I wondered what her 'How are you' referred to. My health or my romantic status? "Oh I'm fine. Job get's frustrating at times but still interesting." Then I remembered that she didn't have a clue what the county planning department did and couldn't care less. "Been to the Sierra the last few weekends. Backpacking, peak climbing."

That didn't interest her in the least. "Larry wasn't that a coincidence? Us meeting that afternoon in Corte Madera. It was such fun talking about old times. I really expected you to give me a call sometime."

"Jeanne, the last time I gave you a call, your husband answered. I just didn't want to put you in a bad spot."

I expected her to tell me that they had re-divorced. Wrong! "Oh no, not at all. I told him about running in to you that day and that you might call."

"Isn't that asking for trouble? I don't want to see your marriage go to hell again. For Christ's sake Jeanne, imagine how Joe would feel answering the phone and it's an ex-lover on the other end."

"I imagine he'd feel honored if you called. Matter of fact, he wants me to invite you for dinner."

I had to laugh. One of her strong points was a loony sense of humor so I made a try at the same thing. "Oh, and he's going to cook while we make out on the couch?"

"No, I'm gonna cook. I took some courses and got a lot better at cooking." Her lousy cooking hadn't been the reason I'd drifted away, but I might otherwise have stayed longer.

"You're serious?"

"Of course. I wouldn't have called you otherwise."

We ended up arranging for me to come to dinner on a Friday evening and she said she'd send the two kids to her sister Paulene that evening. (Another reason for me drifting away was that her two kids were real pains in the ass -- impolite, loud, always wanting attention, etc., etc.)

The rest of the week, all my idle-time thoughts were on how that dinner was going to turn out. At one point it even occurred to me that it could be a trap and Joe might shoot me. After all Jeanne hadn't asked if I had a girlfriend to bring along. I seriously considered cancelling before assuring myself that something like that only happened to other people and then mostly on TV. Anyway, I was just too curious to miss meeting the husband I'd replaced and been replaced by.

Joe turned out to be very cordial and upon meeting me at the door, shook hands and said he was really glad I could come. The surprise was his size. A few inches shy of 6 feet, he must have weighed at least 250 pounds. It always interests me when I see mismatched couples and my dirty mind can't help but picture them together naked and trying to fuck.

I handed him the bottle of Mondavi I'd carefully picked out.

"Larry, Jeanne's busy with dinner, how about we have an aperitif before dinner?"

Naturally I didn't turn him down but I sort of wished I had when he said we'd have it in his basement bar -- where he might have a gun stashed. But I was committed and saw no gracious way to get out of the situation. Jeanne must have overheard my hesitancy because she came out of the kitchen to tell me how proud Joe was of the basement bar that he'd DIYed. I wondered how a guy with so much blubber could DIY anything.

Downstairs, Joe took the position of the proud bar proprietor and beckoned me to take a seat at one of the four bar stools. "Larry, how about dry sherry? We got a really nice one from Woods Hollow."

After cheers and a few sips I started relaxing. At first Joe and I chatted over mundane stuff like weather, traffic, our jobs and such. Then he broke the ice. "Look Larry, considering the whole situation of your having had a relationship with Jeanne, it couldn't have been easy for you to come here this evening. I really admire you for being able to overcome what for lots of men would have been impossible."

I more than returned the compliment and it was an honest one. "Joe, I think you're the one who really had to overcome something. I mean, here you are in your own home having a drink with me, a guy who had an affair with your wife. Okay you two were divorced at the time but all this happened inside of the past year. I can't think of any man I know who could be as big about this as you are. I know guys who can't stand the mention of the husband before them or after them."

"It was tough for a while after the divorce. I knew Jeannie was banging guys. I gather you were the first. I even stalked her, saw who was going in, what kind of car they drove, such stuff. Wondered what they were doing. Course I knew there was sex, just not how, how long and how often. Always wondering if they had a bigger one than me. All kinds of jealous shit like that."

"Sounds like you got over it though. I have to admire that. Some guys just kill themselves with jealousy."

"I had therapy. The shrink, a woman, got me to see that my jealousy was one of the reasons Jeannie left me. Once she got me to see that I had a jealousy problem, she tried using acceptance therapy to cure me. Like I just had to accept the fact that Jeannie was fucking other guys. In a way it's comparable to the need people have for funerals. It brings closure and with closure, going on with life is easier. Or like when survivors wanna see the body. When this lady shrink started relating closure-with-death to my situation, I couldn't figure out what she was getting at."

I said I couldn't figure that one out either.

"Once a survivor sees the body, there's no hope that the loved one is alive and they have to accept it. That's closure. Her explanation of what was driving me nuts was that subconsciously, I was harboring hope that Jeannie wasn't fucking anybody. But on a conscious level, I knew damn well that she was fucking guys. She said my hope that Jeannie wasn't fucking guys was like when survivors keep up hope that their lost loved one is out there somewhere."

"Joe, that sounds to me like some pretty deep shit. But did she give you a recipe to get closure?"

"Oh that she did. I was supposed to picture the scene of Jeannie getting fucked and the more detail the better. That lent purpose to my stalking. I'd see the guys she was dating and then I could imagine the fuck scene better. I'd picture the scene of the guy with Jeannie, both naked in bed, rolling around, her playing with his dick, him with a couple fingers in her pussy, sweating, moaning, and finally she turns on her back, spreads her legs apart, raises her knees, and he plunges in. Having seen the guy's face, I could picture him groaning out 'OMG' when he'd cum. Pretty graphic, huh?"

Realizing that he'd imagined me fucking Jeanne, I got a little uncomfortable -- sweaty armpits, damp face. I hesitated asking the question but finally did. "These imaginings of your wife's fuck scenes, they include me?"

"Of course. But with you, like with most of the others, I got some details wrong. I'd imagined her tugging your foreskin back and licking the head of your dick. But of course you're circumcised so that couldn't have happened."

The question escaped my mouth before I remembered Jeanne telling me she'd related lots of details to Joe. "She told you all about ........?"

"Sure, but you know that. That day you had coffee in Corte Madera, she told you, didn't she? That I wanted to know all about stuff she'd done with other guys."