When One Door Closes 6

When my lovely wife Pam was still alive, we rarely, if ever, let one another begin the day starving for some action, regardless of how much we went at it the night before. She always said it was a waste of the dawn's early light and clean sheets to leave the marital bed wanting for affection when the love of your life was laying right next to you. That was one of two rules we'd promised to keep sacred ever since our wedding day. So, we never threw the covers back until we were both satisfied.

After our first major argument and the ensuing two days of not speaking to one another was settled, Pam more or less made me a promise that she kept for the rest of her life. "Look," she began. " I know you love me, though you won't always like me. But you can always fuck me, no matter what."

It seemed selfish to me at first that Pam should still get sex even though she'd pissed me off, but the more I thought about it, I realized it was for both of us, and it wasn't about just getting sex. It was about being able to set aside our differences to show our love for one another until cooler heads prevailed, which sex always seemed to bring about.

It touched me that she was still ready and willing to take a roll in the hay with me no matter how much I'd pissed her off, so I made her the same promise. From then on, we worked hard at allowing ourselves the time to still make love through the rough patches in our marriage.

I loved Pam with every fiber of my being, and her philosophies much the same. She's been gone almost four years now, and I miss them both dearly.

******

I got up that morning, hornier than usual, and thought it would be a perfect day to watch some amateur internet porn while I sipped my coffee and waited for my blood to flow again. I'd always had a thing for mom-son and uncle-niece videos. Real or not, I couldn't tell? I just had a thing for the taboo premise. Pam used to chastise me for watching 'such filth', but before long, she'd cuddle up to me, staring at the computer screen with one hand groping my crotch and the other inside her top, toying with her nipples. Deep down, she liked the videos too, but one of us had to be the voice of conscience and it certainly wasn't me.

I was on my second cup of coffee and third or fourth video, working up to the point of taking things in hand, when the mood was ruined by a knock on my front door. I wasn't very happy. Horny, but not happy. I answered the knock anyway, just in case it was something important.

"Good morning, Sir. My name is Leslie and I'm from blah, blah-blah, blah blahddy blah. Today our members are out and about, spreading word to the community about blahddy blah blah and we're hoping to get more people interested in learning about blah dee blah, blah-blah, bluh-blah-blah, and we'd like everyone to join us in our celebration this coming Sunday. Won't you join us?"

I hadn't a clue of what she was saying to me because the moment I saw the two-inch stack of pamphlets in her hand and the pretend smile pasted across her face, my attention level dropped to zero as my eyes glazed over in disinterest. Leslie was standing on the third step down from my door, putting her at eye level with my crotch, which she seemed to have focused on about halfway through her pitch. Her intrusion annoyed me and didn't care what she was selling, I just knew she had ruined a perfectly good and much needed spank session.

Apparently, my sullen stare gave away my disinterest, causing Leslie to shove the pamphlets back into her large shoulder bag and turn around with a loud humph. She marched back down to the sidewalk below, clicking her black block heels sharply with each step. Before I could close the door, Leslie did an about-face, climbing her way back to the third step with a much friendlier smile across her ruby lips.

I swung the door back open where she stood squinting at me, trying to block the bright morning sun with her hand trembling in the air, high above her face. She looked as though she were struggling to put the right words together, which I assumed would be a piece of her mind for me not having the courtesy to listen to her well-rehearsed speech. However, what came out of her mouth next, flabbergasted me.

"I could take care of that for you; if you would like, that is."

Leslie tilted her head downward, nodding at my crotch, then resumed squinting up at me. She stood shifting her weight from one foot to the other like a strong urge to pee was bearing down on her.

"I'm sorry? You could take care of what; for me.?"

"That fading bulge in the front of your shorts. I... I could help ease the swelling in a more enjoyable manner than just letting it shrink away unsatisfied."

"I, um... Uh, do you... I uh..." I was speechless.

Seeing the stunned look on my face, Leslie began backpedaling as

her's

turned a bright shade of red.

"Oh, Jesus, I'm sorry. I don't... I mean...," Leslie stammered. "I don't know what I'm... I'm so sorry, I've never done anything like this..."

She was quite distressed and surprised by what had just come out of her own mouth. Leslie's sudden state of upset spoke volumes, telling me it was true that she'd

never

done anything of the like. Something compelled her to make that astonishing offer, and not only was I curious, but I couldn't just let her walk away feeling so awful. I was now feeling bad as well for trying to blow her off, and attempted to engage her in conversation to see if I could help somehow.

"So what made you do it today?" I asked.

"Shit, shit, shit," she sputtered. "It doesn't matter, please, just forget it."

"I'm sorry, but I can't turn anyone away being in the state you're in. What made you say that?"

Seeing I was trying to help, Leslie took a deep breath, settling herself, then looked me in the eye, unflinching.

"Frankly, loneliness and desperation. Happy now?"

"Miss, I'm anything but happy. But I'd like to help if I can."

"Never mind. I'm sorry. Please, just forget I said anything. It's nothing."

"Well, there's obviously something making you feel lonely and desperate. Something made you say; well, what you said. We can talk awhile if you like. It's up to you."

Leslie stood there, mumbling to herself as she looked up the street, then down, then back at me with a sigh. I don't know what kept her standing there on my steps. The level of humiliation she showed would have sent most running to hide in shame, but not Leslie. She remained frozen in place, looking as though she wanted to talk, but didn't know where to begin. Maybe I did have the kind face Pam always claimed. Maybe Leslie was at her breaking point and just needed someone, anyone, to talk to.

"Okay, okay. It's... Shit, I can't believe I'm telling this to a complete stranger. It's just that; my husband hasn't touched me in over two years and I woke up much hornier than usual this morning. Which, I didn't think was possible, and it's only getting worse as the day wears on. So much so, I've apparently taken to offering sexual favors to a total stranger because I am so fucking starved for some thin resemblance of affection. Pathetic, I know."

Leslie stared at the hard concrete steps beneath her feet, shaking her head in disbelief at what an unsatisfying and neglectful marriage had driven her to do, realizing how ridiculously slutty she must have sounded in doing so.

"Really, I am sorry. It's just that I saw your, um, the bulge in your shorts and I couldn't take my eyes off of it. The misery of craving affection just took over, I suppose. I'm so sorry for bothering you and any offence I've caused. Please; just forget anything I've said or, better yet, that I was even here. Have a good day. I'm going to go now. Maybe find a dumpster to curl up behind so I can die of embarrassment in peace. I'm very sorry."

I felt terrible for Leslie as she walked away, red-faced, and quite mortified. Her shoulders drooped as she trudged down the steps like she'd been told her welcome on planet Earth had worn thin. She'd been driven by desperation to do things that her profuse apologies convinced me were not in her normal character. A desperation fueled by a neglectful and emotionally intolerable situation at home.

I knew I needed to say or do something because I was in a near identical state myself. Not driven by neglect, but by grief and an unrelenting desire for the intimacy and physical contact I hadn't experienced since before Pam's passing. I couldn't let this woman leave feeling so awful for trying to satisfy the basic human needs we all have.

"Does this mean you're taking back your offer?" I called out.

At the bottom step Leslie paused for a moment, glancing around the neighborhood before turning to answer.

"Not necessarily. Are you considering it?"

"Well, Leslie, you and your rather frank offer have caught me on a rare morning."

"Meaning?"

"Well, a 'yes' isn't yet definite, but then again, neither is a 'no'. I have not been with anyone in a long time either. And I too climbed out of bed quite horny as well."

"So, what are you saying?"

Step by step, Leslie made her way back up to the third one as we discussed the chances of something happening to ease our mutual anguish.

"I'm saying, maybe. Normally, I would never consider something like this, but like you, my circumstances are a bit overbearing at the moment. You mentioned a husband. I'd rather not mess with married or otherwise attached women, and I especially don't want to get in the middle of anything that's going to stir up a lot of shit for either of us. My life is quiet and ordinary and I would like to keep it that way for the most part."

"I don't think there'd be any problems. My husband works on the other side of town, and if he's up to his current tricks, he's already parked his cruiser somewhere out of the way, playing hide-the-baton with his partner, Officer Whoremeat. I mean, Horvath."

"Cruiser? Officer? He's a cop? Oh I don't know, eh... Those guys tend to stick together and I don't need a bunch of cops..."

"Look; I understand your reservations, but he's lost all concern for me other than wanting his clothes washed and his meals on time. I seriously don't think he'd care one way or the other if he

did

find out. Honestly, the only thing that remains of our marriage is the license."

"Um, I uh..."

"You won't be sorry, Mister..."

"Don. My name's Don."

"You won't be sorry, Don. I promise. I just; I just need some physical contact and a little human kindness. And despite your indifference to my little spiel, you seem to be the first decent man I've come across this morning. Everyone else has bitten my head off as soon as they opened the door. You've got a nice face, Don, perhaps a shadow of sadness to it, but a good one just the same, and I'm a pretty good judge of faces. Yours has a rugged handsomeness to it."

"That's what my wife always said."

"Oh, so you

are

married? But you said you hadn't been with anyone. Never mind, I wasn't thinking. I'll just go."

"Wait! It's alright, she... passed; some time ago."

"I'm so sorry. How long?"

"Not quite four years."

"And you've been alone ever since?"

"'Fraid so."

"I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm guessing she was a good woman to you. That's the sadness I see in your face, isn't it? It's obvious you loved her very much."

Leslie was right on all counts, but I couldn't respond to her condolence. The words choked in my throat as I fought back tears.

Leslie moved up a step, taking hold of my hand until I regained my composure and could look at her again. She was an attractive woman. Younger than myself, about ten years, maybe more, and quite petite. More so than Pam by a small measure. Her short, black, pixie cut hair framed her round face perfectly. I couldn't imagine longer locks doing her any better justice.

We chatted a little more, easing both our nerves enough for Leslie to reiterate her offer, which I was definitely considering by then. I spat and sputtered, looking for the best way to accept and not make either of us feel like a pro and her john. Even though she wasn't looking for any compensation other than a return of affection, I had no experience with such propositions from strangers, only from Pam. She propositioned me all the time, knowing I'd be more than happy to do her anytime, anywhere she wanted.

Like Leslie, I was starved for affection, and couldn't imagine the lonesome randiness coursing through our souls would wane any time soon. If anything, the prospect of a random hookup made things worse.

"Who knows," I thought. "It might just be enjoyable, and surely the highlight of my week."

Before I could step back and let her onto the porch, Leslie advanced to the top step giving the surroundings a quick glance before sliding the palm of her tiny hand down the front of my shorts, pausing on the way back up to assess the moderate bulge still lurking inside with a quick squeeze.

"It feels like this guy is considering my offer. How about you? What do

you

say? We seem like nice people to me, Don. It could be fun."

"Okay, why not?" I said, letting her in. "My only other choice was pounding one off to porn again, and I really wasn't looking forward to yet another solo flight. Ehh, seeing as how this was your..."

"Proposition?" she joked.

"Sorry, I didn't want to say that and sound insulting. What I was meaning to say is, seeing how we're both in no-man's-land as far as something like this, I'll let you decide how you want to begin since you made the approach. I'm sure you're just as nervous as I am."

"Yeah, you're right, and I'm not sure either, but as my momma always said, 'If you're not sure how to start something, just jump right in and tackle it head-on'. No pun intended," she laughed.

We didn't move beyond the screened-in porch, and in the tension of the moment, neither of us gave the neighborhood's view of us a second thought. Later, I was grateful for my laziness about cleaning the screens regularly, hoping they'd obscured us.

"Please, sit down if you like," I offered.

Leslie took a seat on the edge of my old wicker sofa, Pam's favorite place to sit in the evening, watching the colors of the setting sun shift and fade. Leslie's hands fidgeted, wringing her fingers together, waiting for an opening to make good on her offer.

"I'm not sure what you want me to do, Leslie. I don't think either of us is very good at casual or random sex, at least not with strangers. Are you sure you want to do this?"

She smiled, giving me the globally recognized come-hither finger curl, inviting me to stand in front of her. "Yes, I'm sure," she replied. "My frustration over being alone in a sexless and loveless marriage will be nothing compared to what I'll feel if I come this far and then back out. I need to touch a man, and the touch

of

a man, to feel his warmth against my skin. I need to know if I've still got what it takes to make his pulse race. And I need a man to want me as well."

"Are

you

sure?"

"Yes. Same needs, different reasons. Except with a woman, of course."

"I knew what you meant."

I stood close to her, my crotch mere inches from Leslie's face as she placed her hands on the outsides of my legs, sliding them up and down from calves to thighs, smoothing away the jitters of having a woman so close and touching me again. As her hands drifted up one last time, she let them continue up the backs of my thighs, reaching inside the cuff of my shorts until she had my ass in her grip.

"Wow! These are nice and firm."

"My legs or my buns?"

"Both, you obviously stay in shape. How old

are

you, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I'll be fifty-eight next month, and thank you for noticing."

"I'm fifty-one in case you're wondering. I'm proud of my age and maturity, and I don't buy into all that hiding your age bullshit some women still seem to live by."

"You should be proud. You're older than I thought, though. I was thinking maybe forty-five, tops."

"Oh, well thank

you,

kind sir."

Leslie closed her eyes as she leaned into me, brushing her face across my pelvis with her lips parted, tracing the growing swell in my shorts with the tip of her tongue. Her fingernails bit into my ass, pulling me even closer as she inhaled. A hearty sigh escaped her lips as the headiness of male musk flooded her sinus.

"God, you smell wonderful. I do miss having my mind dizzied and juices stirred by the scent of man," she professed.

"Well, I just... took a shower."

Leslie pinched my ass, smiling up at me. "You know what I mean."

For us being total strangers and nervous as hell, Leslie was becoming quite playful, which I think eased the tension somewhat for both of us.

"Sorry, just nervous."

"Well, let's see if we can't do something about that. Hopefully, I can still make a man tremble and shake for reasons other than nerves."

Leslie opened her lips further, trailing her open mouth and tongue over my confined erection, forcing it to harden like no solo session could ever do. Opening her jaw, she gently nipped and bit at me through the thin material, as if testing the ripeness of the fruit inside. Her hot breath turned ragged. Its heat pouring through the thin fabric, scorching my taut flesh.

With them still inside the legs, Leslie worked her hands around to the front of my shorts until she found her quarry. Her fingers wrapped around the spine of my cock, pushing it upright, and popped the head out above the elastic waistband.

"Well hello there, you sexy beast, aren't you a handsome one?" Leslie teased. "You see Don, I told you he was still eager to play."

"I had no doubts about his eagerness, and it appears he's quite pleased to make your acquaintance. I think I was boring the shit out of him."

"Well, let's see how good of a first impression I can make."

Leslie pursed her lips, pressing them to the underside of my glans, softly kissing and tickling the sensitive spot just below with the tip of her tongue. She then licked along the ridge, flicking her tongue like a hummingbird's wing as she stretched the elastic, making her way around the entire head.

While Leslie renewed her confidence in the ways of pleasuring a man, my gaze drifted toward the ceiling. My eyes closing to mere slits while flashbacks of the similar things Pam used to do played in my head. I was lost in the pleasure of Leslie's touch when I felt my shorts being inched towards the floor and the moist heat of her mouth kissing and licking a fiery path along the length of my hardness. She wasted no time jumping right in, as her mother taught her to do, making quite the first impression.

Confident that she had teased my cock to the deepest possible shade of violet, Leslie took it between her soft lips, sucking and swirling her hot tongue over the smooth, taut head, teasing thick beads of pre-cum into her lusty mouth. With little warning she lowered her mouth, engulfing me completely, turning her sighs of growing arousal into deep guttural moans as she took me into her throat.

"Damn, Don! This is a nice dick you've got here. Nice and fat, and quite lovely to suck. Nothing like a fat cock in the mouth to turn a girl's day around."

Leslie's demeanor had changed completely in an instant. She was no longer the distraught shell of a woman who stood at my door, beaten down by her home life and mortified by the proposition for random sex it forced her to make. It appeared she was now well within her element.

She suddenly hit full throttle, sucking me with abandon. Her head bobbed and twisted while her hands gently tugged at my sack, cupping and rolling my balls in her palm like they were her favorite marbles.

"Leslie, I wouldn't be too concerned about your abilities if I were you. I'd say you most definitely still have them. May I touch you?"