The Veronica Story

                                                         —— Part One – Rain ——

This kind of thing never happens in real life, not to me anyway.

An unexpected storm, an unplanned meeting away from work, and a split second decision to perform an act of kindness led to a friendship, and that friendship led to something more.  I’m an idiot for even considering writing about it, but I can’t seem to stop reliving the details in my mind.  So, here it goes.

As part of my job, I routinely have meetings that require me to leave my office on the base and drive to other locations on San Antonio’s south side.  If you are familiar with most bases around our country, you’ll know that people don’t build million dollar homes and fancy neighborhoods just outside the base.  Instead, you have a lot of industrial places, run down neighborhoods and very often, the poorest of people.  It is sad really, and to be honest, where I work is one of those places that, once off the base, you probably don’t want to go at night if you don’t belong there.

Over the years, I have had cause to drive up and down most of the streets on the south side.  From driving to junk yards looking for parts when I used to work on cars with my father in-law, to wasting a Saturday drinking beer in shady bars with my brother-in-law.  I don’t fear the south side like a lot of my co-workers do, but there are few places I’d park my truck and leave the doors unlocked.

To say that the most folks living there are at or below the poverty line is an understatement.  San Antonio has a lot of really rich areas, and as far as a city of minorities making it, it’s true.  It is a multicultural city where in the newer, middle and upper middle class areas, you can have just as many Hispanics and blacks as whites on a given street.  I’m not sure why I point it out, but I guess I don’t want anyone reading this to get the idea that San Antonio is some slum.   Yes, there are pockets of run-down areas, and the area I am talking about is one of those, but we aren’t talking ghetto, just a little seedy.

We are in a constant state of drought in south-central Texas, so anytime it rains, I’m pretty damn happy.  When I left my office and walked to my truck, I could see the sky was looking a little crazy, and all I could think was, bring it on.  I drove off the base and down the road where, almost like a light-switch you make the connection you have just crossed into a different area.  I drove through an area with a few convenience stores, tire shops, houses with makeshift repair shops operating out of the garages, and an equal number of Mexican restaurants and hole-in-the-wall bars, one right after another every few streets until I was back out on the the small stretch of road leading into Port San Antonio, an industrial complex where I had an unplanned meeting to urgently discuss a work related issue.

Just as I was leaving my meeting and climbing into my truck, the sky just opened up and beautiful rain came pounding down on my windshield.  Of course, this meant I’d have to walk back into the office and get wet.  Even with the umbrella I always keep in the truck, my slacks end up soaked.

I drove again toward the little path through the “barrio” as everyone who takes the shortcut around the base calls it, and the rain was doing one of those things where it is really coming down, then just lets up for 10 seconds, then starts coming down again.  Just as I was coming around the curve, I noticed a figure up ahead walking up on the curb (there are no sidewalks) and some asshole hit a small puddle and splashed the person.  I have to admit, I laughed at first, but then saw that it was a lady carrying a baby.   The puddle wasn’t that big, and the splash wasn’t that bad, but still, jerk move.

For some reason, when I saw that there was a baby involved, I guess my fatherly instincts kicked in and even though there is no shoulder, I put on my flashers and stopped the truck when I got to the young lady.  I rolled the window down just as the rain let up for another few seconds and semi-yelled, “Are you okay?”

The young lady looked up at me, caught off guard of course, and just shook her head.  I looked in my rear view mirror, worried someone would rear-end me and then pulled out my security badge and showed it to her. “I work at the base, I’m not a serial killer.” And then I chuckled.

She looked at me and smiled and said, “No, we’re okay.  It isn’t far.”

I reached down in the side door pocket and grabbed my umbrella and said,  “Here.  At least take this, I don’t need it.”  Just then a huge lightning bolt and accompanying thunder cracked down and without another word she opened the truck door, handed me her child and jumped in.

She put on her seat belt, then grabbed the little girl and held her in her lap.  I turned off the flashers and drove ahead, hoping we weren’t going far.  The last thing I needed was a ticket for having a kid without a car seat. “Thank you, sir.  That lightning scared the shit out of me!” she said, then started to laugh.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

She pointed straight ahead and said, “We’re just on the other side of Military.” (the name of the road).

It was actually another mile or two up the street, and I was thinking to myself, why doesn’t this lady have a car?  It continued to storm and when I pulled into the gravel driveway of the house, I could see that it was really three houses on one property, and each of the houses had been divided into apartments. She said hers was number 3A, which equated to the house in the back, first apartment.

I drove up to the building and said, “I don’t mind waiting if you want to sit here until this rain lets up.”

She smiled again and thanked me for being so kind to her.  In the few minutes that it took for the rain to let up, we introduced ourselves, her name was Veronica, and her daughter was Emma.  I asked about the father, and she said he (Jonah) was at work with their only car.  She said he would be pissed to find out that she had walked so far with the baby in the rain, but she had decided to meet a friend of hers for a late breakfast.  The friend had picked her up, but a sudden phone call while they ate caused “the stupid bitch” to leave her stuck with the bill and having to walk home 2 and a half miles – in the rain.

“I’m just glad you rescued us.  Thank you, sir.”  She put out her hand and we shook hands, and then she told Emma to tell me thank you, and Emma offered a little baby-talk version.

I pulled out one of my business cards and handed it to her and said, “Look, I can’t promise I can leave at a moments notice, but if you find yourself in trouble, please don’t hesitate to call me.  I’m just up the road on the base.”  

As they climbed out of the truck, Veronica grabbed her baby bag then apologized for getting the seat all wet.  “Don’t worry about it – it’s a truck.” I said, and I watched her open the door and walk inside, waving goodbye.

It was at least three weeks later when, in all honesty, I had forgotten about my small act of kindness, and then there was a message on my voice mail.  “Sir, I don’t know if you will remember me, but this is Veronica.  You gave us a ride.  I need your help, could you please call me?  My number is [555-1234].” 

I waited until I had a spare few minutes and then called the number.  She must have had caller ID because, when she answered she said, “Thank you so much for calling me back, and thank you for not being a serial killer that day.”

She went on to explain the dilemma and it was something about needing to get to the grocery store, but that her husband was not getting off until late, and by then, she wouldn’t be able to make dinner, and if I could just help her this one time.  I thought it seemed really odd.  I said, “I’ll tell you what, I’d be happy to help you out, but to be honest, I’m really uncomfortable driving the baby around without a car seat.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I have a car seat here.” she promised.

This all seemed really convenient. I mean, if you only have one car, don’t you just normally keep the car seat in the car?  Either way, I thought what the heck.  I cannot lie.  I am a pervert and a dirty old man.  The truth is, there was no way to get a really good look at Veronica when she was drenched sitting in my truck holding her baby.  Yes, she had the Hispanic features I love, and long black hair, but because it was wet, there was no way of determining her style.  I never really got a sense of boob size and to be honest, this little trip would give me a chance to see what she looked like normally.  “I get off in an hour.  I’ll come by, but please be ready to go, I don’t want my wife chasing us down thinking we are lovers!”

She gave a hearty laugh then said, “Hey, you never know.” then laughed even harder.

Holy shit!  I immediately wanted to be friends with Veronica.  Yes, because I am a pervert but also because I loved her laugh and her quick wit.

When I pulled into the driveway, at about 4:30, I noticed a few other cars parked near the different apartments.  My immediate thought was, can’t one of these people giver her a ride?  Whatever.  I got out and went up to the door.  Before I could knock, Veronica opened the door with a big smile.  “You made it!” and then she hugged me like an old friend.  This caught me off guard a bit since I’m not the huggy type.

Since the first time we met she was soaked from rain, I hadn’t really gotten a good enough look or an appreciation of just how cute Veronica was.  Casually dressed in Levis, a San Antonio Spurs T-shirt and some well worn New Balance running shoes, her dark hair was longer than I remembered, parted to one side and hanging over her shoulders.  If she was wearing make-up, it wasn’t obvious or overdone anyway, but she had a very nice complexion and was naturally pretty.

Before I could really take her all in, she turned back inside and handed me the car seat and said, “Here.  If you can put this in, I’ll grab Emma and you’ll be home in time for dinner.”

As I worked to put the car seat in the truck, I noticed a neighbor from one of the other apartments looking out her window at me.  A lady probably in her mid 60’s with a scowl on her face.  When she noticed me noticing her, she didn’t stop staring at all, but just continued the “Mrs. Kravitz” routine.

Veronica tucked Emma into the car seat and we drove out of the small property and onto the main street.  As we passed by Mrs. Kravitz, I asked if her neighbor was always so nosy.  Veronica asked which neighbor and I said, “You know, that older lady with the scowl on her face, the one in the second building.”  

She laughed, “Scowl? That’s Miss Toni, she is the defacto neighborhood watch.  When we first moved in, I saw her watching us so I went and knocked on her door to introduce myself.  She wouldn’t answer.  Another girl who used to live here, the one I went to meet for lunch that day…” 

I interrupted, “The stupid bitch?” 

Veronica laughed. “Yea, the stupid bitch, that’s her. Anyway, she told me that Miss Toni was a little touched in the head.  We’ve been here close to a year and I have never spoken to her.  Jonah will make funny faces at her but she never changes her expression.” 

I loved that Veronica felt so comfortable with me, after all, we really didn’t know each other and only three weeks ago, she still wasn’t sure if I was a serial killer or not!

During the short drive she asked me about my family, my wife and all the pertinent questions you go through when trying to get to know someone new.  I asked her where Jonah worked and she told me he had just started a new job at a car dealership, not as a salesman but doing something in the office a part time basis.  He was actually going to school full time using the GI Bill.  I didn’t want to sound insensitive, but asked if he would be paid enough to move them into a nicer place.

That’s the plan.” she told me.  But there were some bills that had to get paid before they could do any moving.  I didn’t press the issue.   She told me that the crappy place they were living was a step or two above the even shittier trailer they were in before.

I also asked about her parents.  “That’s a longer story.” she said.  “My mom is here in town.  I have a younger sister who lives in Austin, going to UT, and my dad, well, he has been in and out of our lives from the start.  I haven’t seen him in at least two years – he has never even met Emma.”

I asked if she had a good relationship with her mother but she didn’t answer.  Instead, she said, “You are so nice to do this for me.  I promise, I won’t take advantage of our friendship.”

It didn’t take us long to get to the large HEB Plus grocery store on the corner of South West Military and Zarzamora Street.  The few times I had been into this place, it was a madhouse, filled with senior citizens in those little scooter baskets, and young, 15 year-olds with kids, and their 30 year old grand-mothers all shopping with their Lone Star cards.  In Texas, the Lone Star card is the polite and convenient way to use food stamps.  We parked and While Veronica grabbed her shopping bags, I grabbed Emma and we went in for a quick shopping trip.

Emma is a cheerful little girl, never once hesitated to let me pick her up and put her in a shopping cart that some jerk left in the middle of the parking lot.  I strapped her in and Veronica put her canvas shopping bags in the cart.  I pushed the cart and gladly let Veronica lead the way.  Between making faces for the baby and talking to her, I kept a pretty good eye and Veronica’s tight ass and slight muffin top.

I’m not even going to lie, I was very happy to imagine what type of panties she was wearing, what type of sex she and Jonah got into, and any number of dirty ideas about what I might do if given the chance.  But during the trip up and down the aisles looking for things on her list, she would often ask about my wife and whether or not she was a good cook, or if she used a particular generic brand and such.  It made it hard to have perverted thoughts about her, but it didn’t stop me from taking in the views when she would bend over to get something from a lower shelf, or reach up to grab something on a higher one.

We finished up in the cosmetics and pharmacy section where Veronica had no embarrassment in buying tampons and some KY Yours & Mine lube.  Well, she isn’t pregnant and they are definitely having sex!  She didn’t make any more or less emotional look tossing these things in the basket than she did the bananas or yogurt.  No hang-ups.

We made our way to the registers and she said, “You pick a line, I always end up behind some asshole with an issue.”

I had to laugh, because I always say the same thing.  If there were 5 lines and 4 of them were long and one was empty, I’d end up getting the slowest cashier in the store and still be there longer than everyone in the longer lines.

When it came time to pay, Veronica pulled out a Lone Star card and swiped it, and then pulled out her regular bank card to pay the remaining balance of $14.26.  For some reason, her card wasn’t working and she just looked at me and said, “Great, now I’m the asshole with issues.”

I said, “Let me try.” and quickly pulled out my own card and paid the bill.

As we walked out of the store, Veronica told me I didn’t need to do that, she could have just put a few things back, but I wasn’t hearing any of it.  I said, “Let’s get this little baby home so I can get myself home before my wife starts thinking they are overworking me again.”

On the ride back to the apartment compound, or whatever it is, I asked Veronica about her sister in Austin. “How is it she is in school but you aren’t?”  

Veronica told me that her sister, Mari, was on a full scholarship for one, and for two, she would be done with college already if she had stayed in but quit two years ago before the start of her junior year at St Mary’s.  I asked, “Why’d you quit, the baby?”

“Oh, no.  Emma came after I left school.  Emma and Jonah both.  I was involved in a pretty bad accident, I was a passenger and when I woke up in the hospital, they told me the girl I had been partying with, the one driving, was dead.  There was also a person in another car who was killed.  I have no memory of any of it.”

I didn’t bother to ask anymore detail, but figured that if she started college at 18 or 19, went two years and it has been another two years, it made her about 22 or 23 at the most.

We got to the apartment and Veronica took Emma from the car seat and I grabbed the bags.  We walked in the apartment and I headed straight for the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter.  The place was clean, not that I expected it to be dirty, but you could tell it was one of these slumlord places where they put in the cheapest peel & press tiles, the cheapest paint, the cheapest appliances and so on.

“Watch Emma.” Veronica instructed me as she went back out to the truck to grab the car seat.  Emma sat quietly on the carpeted floor in front of the small couch.  When she came back in, she set the car seat by the door, then said, “I’d give you a tour of the place, but this is it.”

It was a living room dining room combination, a small kitchenette, and there were three more doors, one for the only bedroom and one each for a bathroom and a small linen closet.

“Listen, I gotta run, but I also gotta pee.  Do you mind?”

Veronica laughed.  “Please be careful.  I have my husband trained pretty well, so aim good and lower the seat when you’re done.”  

I figured if she had no qualms about buying tampons and sex lotion in front of me, she wouldn’t be embarrassed by a guy needing to take a leak.  The bathroom was small, same tile as the kitchen and also clean.  I seriously was hoping to find a pair of discarded panties on the floor, but no such luck.  I didn’t dare open the vanity or look in any cabinets, and when I finished peeing, washed my hands and wiped them on a towel.  Yay!  Next to the towel on the rack was a fairly well used bra hanging there, a faded 34C on the label gave me a slight stir.

I walked back into the living room and saw Emma still quietly sitting on the carpet, now playing with a small book.  Veronica was putting up her groceries and I said, “I gotta run, but this was a real hoot.  I hope we can do it again sometime.”

“You are so nice to me, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t helped us out today.” she said. 

I waived to the baby and started to open the door.  “Not so fast, mister!” Veronica pretend yelled.  She came to the door and gave me another tight hug and planted a fresh kiss on my cheek.

“Careful.” I said, “my wife will think I’ve been on a date!  

She playfully slapped me, thanked me again and said goodbye.

When I drove out of the apartment compound thing, I didn’t see Mrs Kravitz but I did see a young girl, maybe younger than Veronica peering out the window of another apartment.  She didn’t smile or frown or make any faces, but when she saw me look back at her, she closed the curtain.  “Don’t these people have TV?”  I thought to myself, and drove home.

—— Part Two – Coffee ——

On the drive home, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I enjoyed the short visit with Veronica.  Running a quick errand with her and Emma hadn’t taken more than an hour, and I rolled into my driveway not noticeably later than I do on some days.

I should point out now that I have a job where the normal work hours are Monday through Friday.  I would say it is a standard 9 to 5, but people really don’t punch a time clock. The military guys have some standard days they meet up for PT in the morning, but for the most part, people are on the honor system to do their forty hours.  For many of us, forty hours is a short week.  I routinely work ten hour days, rarely go to lunch unless it is part of an official function, and it is not uncommon for me to be the first one in my section in in the morning, and the last one out in the evening.

More than a few people over the years have asked me why I work so much, but the truth is, I do enjoy my job, and I feel like as long as there is work needing to be done,  I should do it.  And let’s be honest, I’ve also had my fair share of goof-off time during the work day.  I’m not some shining example of productivity, though anytime you can get your work done and have fun with your co-workers, I’d say it is a positive thing.

My wife is one of the people who insists that I put in too many hours. She has a policy where she will wait until 6 PM before she eats alone.  I’m usually at the house by 5:30, quarter of six, but sometimes I surprise her by getting home by 4.  The point of all this is, I realized that I could, if I wanted, put in an eight-hour day, and stop by to visit Veronica on my way home, and not really create a noticeable stir.  The fact that I was even gaming all this out was a little shocking to me.  What was I thinking of, a secret friendship with a married girl and her little baby?  Why is this something I would hide?  There was nothing illicit about it.  I mean, outwardly anyway.

That evening, my wife was out watering some plants outside and I pulled the checkbook from her purse and marked $15 into the register and wrote “Lunch”.  Later, I lied and said I had to meet a co-worker for lunch but I had already annotated it in the checkbook.

I guess another point I should reveal about myself and my relationship with my wife is that, for as long as we have been married, she has handled all the bills.  I make the money and she spends it is one of her favorite things to say.  When we were younger and expenses were a lot tighter (like having $4.00 in the account until payday – a week from now), she had a very tight fist on the account.  I’ve always been one of those, “but there were checks left, I can’t be out of money” type of guys.  I’m not irresponsible, but since I haven’t had to balance the books, I’ve just bought what I needed and then confessed my sins when I got home.   Now days, $15 for lunch (or helping out a lady in need) isn’t going to break the bank.   But, if I ever thought about having an affair, something like paying for a hotel room would be a huge flag and pretty much, an easy way for me to get busted.

On the Monday following our grocery trip, I had decided that I wanted to call Veronica and just check in on her and Emma.  I had written her number down in my office, and like some sort of ESP, she called me.  “Hi, this is Veronica – I hope I’m not bothering you.” 

I was almost speechless.  “No, in fact I was honestly getting ready to call you and see how you were.  How are you, is everything okay?”

I hate talking on the phone, but for the next 20 minutes we chatted about her and Jonah and Emma, she told me that when she met Jonah, he was still Active Duty Air Force and had just returned from a deployment.  He had already made the decision to get out and go to school full time and not long after they met, she was pregnant. She was working at the time, but when she had the baby, it didn’t make sense for her to work if they would have to pay so much in childcare, and between the two of them, they could share her car.  Jonah had sold his old clunker before he deployed, and just never got around to buying a new one when he returned from his deployment.

I asked how it was he met her if he didn’t have a car.  Veronica waited a little bit then said, “I’ll tell you the whole story the next time we see each other.”

I said, “Hey, would you be open to having coffee with me in the morning?  Maybe I could get out of the office for a bit and swing by?”

Veronica said she gets up when Jonah does and makes him breakfast, and he has to leave the house by 7, so I could stop by on my way int work if I wanted.   I wondered what Mrs. Kravitz would think of seeing the husband leave and the older guy pull up moments later, but what the hell.

Tuesday morning, I left the house a few minutes early, stopped at the Love’s on Fischer Road and I-35 South, grabbed two large coffees and since I had no idea how Veronica took hers, I grabbed an assortment of creamers, sugar packets, sweeteners and the like.  It was about five of seven when I pulled into the apartment compound and a young guy in an older Honda Accord smiled at me and gave a friendly Texas nod as he pulled out.

I pulled up in front of Apartment 3A, and grabbed the coffee carrier.  Before I could knock, Veronica opened the door and invited me in.  “Hey, you just missed Jonah.” she said with a smile.

I almost stopped in my tracks when I saw that Veronica was wearing just a t-shirt and panties.  Okay, that’s an understatement.  I nearly lost the entire tray of coffee and sweeteners and creams when I saw the bottom portion of her panties below the t-shirt that was clearly not an extra large!  She looked at me like I was nuts.
I said, “I’m sorry, am I too early?”

She motioned for me to put the coffee on the small table, “No, you’re fine – I told you I get up with Jonah.  Can I make you an egg or some toast?”

Jesus, why am I such a pervert. I thought to myself. “No, thanks.  I’m fine. So, you were going to tell me about how you met Jonah.”

“Oh, speaking of Jonah,” she said, “here is the money I owe you.” and she reached for a ten and a five sitting on the table and handed it to me.

I told her it wasn’t necessary but she insisted.  “We pay our bills.  Jonah was just glad you helped us out.  It turns out that my card had been cancelled because of some fraud detection thing.  Some asshole in Germany was trying to buy plane tickets with my account.  Little did they know, I don’t have enough money to buy  a bus ticket much less plane tickets!” She laughed at herself and said, she should be getting a new ATM card in the mail within a few days.

“So Jonah knows about me?”  I asked.

“Of course.  I told him about how you saved us that day when Liz left me stranded at the restaurant.”

“Oh.” I said, “Is Liz the stupid bitch?”

“Yes.” Veronica laughed, “The stupid bitch.  She really is a good friend.  Anyway, she came back to bring me the car seat and apologized over and over again.  Jonah was just coming home from his last class when Liz was leaving.  So I explained what happened and that was that.”

I noticed that the car seat was sitting in the same spot it was by the door, and it all started to be less suspicious than it had been that day Veronica conveniently had it available.  I felt like a jerk for thinking it was strange, and I felt like more of a jerk when it was obvious I was staring at Veronica’s slightly erect nipples under her t-shirt.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” She asked, taking me out of my stare. “How old are you?”  

“How old do I look?” I asked a little defensively.  

“I’m going to guess fifty, but to be honest, I’m not a really good guesser of ages.”  

“Well, you’re close.” I said.  “I’ll actually be fifty this year.  How old are you?”

“I just turned twenty-four last week.  Jonah is twenty-five.”

Veronica turned the questioning back to me.  “What is married life at fifty like?”

Instead of answering, I quietly asked, “Is it okay that you and I are sitting here, I mean, one of us in panties?  I mean, is Jonah good with all this?”

Veronica laughed, though tried to keep it quiet since the baby was asleep in the bedroom.  “Are you some sort of prude?  I mean, if you are uncomfortable, I’ll go put on a flannel nightgown or some sweats.  I don’t feel threatened by you and certainly, my husband would not be jealous.”  She paused for a moment and said, “I mean, I don’t mean to say you’re some creepy old troll, but you are as old as my father.”

I smiled, a little embarrassed, and then said, I was sorry.  “I’m no prude.  I could tell you stories you wouldn’t believe but I just wanted to make sure that I wasn’t causing any sort of situation by just trying to get to know you and be your friend. You have one weird old-lady neighbor that stares at everyone, then some awkward looking girl in another apartment looking at me the other day.  I come in here and, well, I’m not even going to tell you how smoking hot you are, and I’m just worried that Jonah might get the wrong idea.  Hey, I’m a hip guy.  If he is cool, I’m cool.”

Veronica reached out and covered my left hand with hers and patted it a few times.  “You really make me laugh.  Tell me a story I wouldn’t believe.  I’m the priestess – you confess.”

I took a long sip of my coffee and looked over at the TV in the living room.  It was on the CBS morning news, but the sound was muted.  The clock on the bottom of the screen showed it was already 7:20.

“Okay, I’ll tell you three things and you have to decide which ones are true or not.”

She giggled, “Okay, get to confessing!”

“Okay, one.  When we were younger, my wife and I were sort of like swingers.  Two. I have let a guy put his penis in my mouth – more than once.  And three, I don’t have any tattoos  but I am totally turned on by other people’s tattoos.”  I grabbed my coffee and took another long sip, finishing the cup.

“You are a freak, mister.  Okay, I’m going to show you my one tattoo, but you better be a gentleman.”  With that, Veronica stood up from her chair, moved to me and turned around, lifting the back of her shirt to reveal your standard, college girl tramp-stamp.

“I hope you’re looking at my tattoo and not my ass!” she pretended to admonish.

“What tattoo?” I laughed.

Veronica lowered her shirt, spun around and pointed at me with a big grin.  “You are a nut!”

“I really have to go to work.  I want to do this again sometime, is that okay?”  

“Your coffee is always welcome here, my friend.”  

I got up from the table, cautiously avoiding any glance toward the embarrassing semi-erection in my slacks and we walked to the door.  I was suddenly all to aware that Veronica would want to hug me goodbye and I just wanted to avoid being the creepy guy that just took in the view of her ass (and tattoo) and was now too erect to drive!

“You know, I have a pretty good Gaydar, and you don’t really put off that vibe to me.  Was that one true?  Are you gay?” Veronica asked

“I am certainly not gay,” as I looked down at the bulge in my slacks causing Veronica to cover her mouth laughing, “but yes, everything I confessed was true.”

She reached up and put her hand on my face.  “No hugs for you, Mister Boner.” And continued with her giggle as I stepped out the door.   “I’ll be up tomorrow morning if you need to share your coffee with someone nice.”

When I left, I didn’t see any sign of Mrs Kravitz or any of the other apartment compound dwellers. I had every intent of returning the next day, but more importantly, I needed to get to work, shut the door to my office and jack myself while the vision of beauty was still fresh in my mind.  And I did. 

—— Part Three – History ——

Over the next two months, I made morning coffee visits two and mostly three times a week, and we met for lunch more than a few times.  I found myself padding all of my purchases, giving my wife inflated numbers each time I’d put gas in my truck or make a purchase at the hardware store.  It wasn’t a significant amount of money, but my intent was to stay under the radar, and for the most part, things were seamless.  There was one slip up when my wife logged into the checking account online and noticed that I had given her an amount of $85 for gas but the actual amount was $78.  I just looked at her and said, Oh, I thought it was $85 and that was the end of it.

During our morning visits, there was no particular pattern to how I would find Veronica dressed.  Usually, it was the same panties and t-shirt thing, but other times, she had on shorts or yoga pants – thank God for yoga pants – and even other times she was fully dressed in jeans and tennis shoes.  I preferred the panties look, but who wouldn’t?

Our conversations seemed to become these intense, twenty to thirty minute therapy sessions, one day me revealing my deepest, most intimate secrets, the next time, her confessing the sins she had committed in her youth.  There is an intensity to sharing so honestly with someone, opening up and being willing to accept that they might look at you oddly when you admit to something.  There was a lot of talk about sex, but it wasn’t with the intention of moving things to the bedroom.  It could be sex related one visit and the very next visit I was learning about Veronica’s childhood, living in a house her grandfather owned on the West side, because her mother was never consistent enough with rent to live anywhere else.  These conversations often included tears, and at least once, I felt compelled to hold her and let her get it all out.

I learned that the mother and father were fairly immature, incredibly irresponsible assholes, as can be the case when people put their party before their kids.  Veronica’s father was a white guy, had never really worked in a steady job situation but rather went where the wind blew him.  He had done construction, worked on an oil platform for a while, driven a truck and as far as she knew, he was now working in the rich Eagle-Ford Shale in south Texas, making good money and occasionally sending a nice check to the grandparents so the mother wouldn’t spend it all.

Veronica showed me a small photo album with pictures that ranged from her childhood to fairly recent. The mother was stunningly beautiful, Hispanic, tall and lean, with the same beautiful hair as Veronica.  She referred to her as her mother, but called her by her name, Kathy.  In truth, they had grown up almost as siblings, given the constant need for intervention by the grandparents who lived just up the street.  The grandfather had purchased several houses in their neighborhood over the years, turning them into rental properties and used them as retirement income.  The father, Ken, transferred to Kennedy High School from out of state, immediately fell in love with Kathy, and before they were both sixteen, they were parents.  Even though Ken continued to live with his parents until he graduated high school, there was another baby girl resulting in an insistence by Veronica’s grandmother that the marriage be made official.

Her and her sister were mostly raised by the grandparents, but by the time she was about four, Ken, Kathy and the two girls had moved into the small house up the street, an effort by the grandfather to force some responsibility on his hard partying daughter and son-in-law.  It wasn’t much later that Ken began taking this odyssey of jobs requiring him to be away from home more often than not.  And it wasn’t long after that Kathy began using what the good lord gave her to earn money.  “My mom danced for a really long time, but she also did house cleaning and other personal services.  While we were still little, she would have us stay with the grandparents, but eventually, I’d say when my sister turned six or seven, she would give us dinner, sit us in front of the TV and she’d go to work.” 

“So, what do you mean by personal services?” I asked.  “Is that like picking up people’s laundry, walking the dog or taking dictation?”

“Yea, I think taking dictation pretty much covers it.”  She laughed in a sad sort of way.

“It was kind of funny.  My mom would always introduce us to Uncle this guy or Uncle that guy.  I would say shit like, well, if this is our uncle, why doesn’t grandpa know him?” She said by the time she was in the 7th or 8th grade, she was really running the household, writing checks and sending the electric bill, making dinners and helping her sister with homework.  When the father would show up for a week at a time, there would be lots of action going on in the room but equally lots of fighting about finances, or some other guy’s underwear being found in a drawer.  She loved her dad when he was around, but it just wasn’t that often.

“I’m curious. In that environment, how did you pull off high school and college?”  I asked.

“Oh, that was all my grandparents.  My grandfather knew where this was all headed by the time my mom was slutting around in high school.  Ken may be the one who got her pregnant, but apparently, and my mom has even told me this, there were quite a few guys before him. She was an early starter.”
“Who has these conversations with their kids?” I asked incredulously.  

“Oh c’mon, you have to understand that by the time I left the house, I was more of an adult than my mom was.  She would come home all drunk and cry about some guy treating her badly.  She pointed out a guy in a store once who she said had the biggest cock in San Antonio and then she held her hands out like this (showing me about a foot worth of space between her hands).  My mom started teaching me her dance moves when I showed interest in being a cheerleader in high school.  Yea, how many fifteen year-olds do you know who can give a proper lap dance?”  

“Well, I can honestly say that I have not met such a 15 year-old, but I’ll keep my eye out.” We both laughed.  

“Do you know that one night, my mom told me and Mari how much she loved tossed salad.”

I snorted coffee through my nose.   “She what?”

“Yea. We had no idea what she was talking about – thinking she was hungry or something.  Then she just flat out told us that was when you licked a man’s asshole.  We were all screaming eeew and gross, but Kathy just said, don’t knock it until you try it.”

“That’s child abuse!” I exclaimed.

“No, child abuse would have been if she showed us what she was talking about.  Information is information.  There is nothing inherently abusive about learning about sex.  The information is not bad.  Granted, I think I could have waited to see that one on the Internet rather than have my mom describe it.”  Veronica laughed.

I just shook my head and smiled.  “So anyway, the grandfather and the college?”

Veronica picked up before we took the trip down memory lane and the dancing mother.  “Yea, so basically, when I was in high school, grandpa told me that if I stayed in school and worked on getting any sort of scholarships or grants, he would do his part to help me get through college.  And he did the same for Mari.  In fact, Mari got so much in scholarship money that Grandpa is helping to pay her living expenses in Austin.”  

“I got the usual grants, I spent an entire year writing essays and applying for every $50 and $100 grant I could find and sure enough, when I graduated, I was headed for UT.  Then I kinda screwed up a bit.  I had this idea that instead I would go in the military.  I didn’t start school the first semester and I actually lost quite a bit of money from that mistake.  But, grandpa kicked my ass and I dropped the military thing and started at St Mary’s with this idea that maybe I could be a lawyer or some sort of engineer. I just knew that I wanted to be something.”

“So you never said whether or not you were a cheerleader.” I said.

“Oh, hell no!  That idea lasted about as long as the first twenty minutes of the first meeting before try-outs.” She explained that, even though she had a bangin’ body and could do some standard cheer moves (and the aforementioned lap dancing skills), the girls who would end up being cheerleaders had all been involved in paid cheer camps and such.  “There was no way I could compete with those bitches, so I just went with the dance team with all the other incompetent ones like me.  It was fun though, and we had a great time.”  

Veronica went on to tell me that she continued to live at home while her sister was still in high school.  “Somebody had to supervise.”  

She also worked part time or as much as she could between classes making great tips at a few different restaurants.  It wasn’t until she turned 21 when she started working as a bartender and that was also when she met Stephanie, the girl who would be killed in the car accident.  She would end up moving in with Stephanie, and for the first time, she began to drink a little and live a lot.

“Let me put it this way,  I had a boyfriend in high school and all that, I mean, I lost my virginity at sixteen so it wasn’t like I was little Miss Innocent.  But when I moved away from the house – not worrying about my grandparents or looking bad in front of my sister, I fucked more than a few guys.”
“Stephanie was out of control but I just didn’t realize it.  She came into the bar and told me that if I wanted to increase my tips, I needed to be a little more skanky. She convinced me to stop wearing jeans to work and instead, show up in tight shorts or mini-skirts.  Basically, she told me that most of the men sitting at the bar were just miserable married guys trying to drown the fact that the bitch they married wouldn’t put out anymore.  She said, “You don’t have to fuck ’em, just give ’em a little show.” “

Veronica went on to tell me how on a dare, she went to work with her panties in her purse, wearing a short mini.  That night, after just doing a little extra bending over from time to time, she raked in more tips than she had in the previous week.  She also realized she could get the same reaction if she just wore a thong.  She was wearing more revealing shirts to let the girls show, and even though she never went home with the guys giving her the big tips, she did hook up with more than a few of the younger studs.

“Jonah had only been with one other girl before he met me, some skanky girl from Cotulla he met while staying the summer with an uncle down there.  You could say, I’ve given him his sexual education!  I was never really a prude – it was hard to be ashamed of sex when my mom was so blatant and open about it – but I hadn’t done it a lot until Stephanie and I started hanging out and then, I was open to anything she would throw at me.”  

Without any embarrassment or shyness, Veronica explained how Stephanie came home one night with a guy, woke her up and proceeded to give an hour long lesson on how to give a proper blow job.  

“Hold on.” I said.  “She let you just watch her blow some guy?”  

Veronica laughed.  “Watch and practice.  It was all very innocent.  She would show me what to do, and then I would go down and repeat it.  The funny thing was, this poor guy, Mark, was in agony by the time Steph finally let him cum.”  She continued to laugh.  

“Jesus Christ!  After an hour, I would have already been in bed asleep and dreaming about it.” I laughed with her. 

The revelations went on during our continued conversations over the weeks. There were more than a few parties where Stephanie and Veronica had sex with guys, then switched.  Suddenly, my little experiences of sharing my wife with other guys seemed less than exotic.  Everything I asked her about, she had done it.

Anal? “Yep.  Jonah takes my ass all the time.” she said.

Sex with another girl?  “I’m not gay, but yes – several times just for the show.  Stephanie and I put on this little show for a couple of guys, almost like something you’d see at a club, but there was no sheet in front of us.  I enjoyed it, but I prefer guys.”

It was impossible for me not to be so turned on, and I was constantly masturbating at work re-living our conversations in my mind.

Every morning visit wasn’t about revealing our sexual histories or trying to one-up one another – she had me beat.  We talked about everyday things, about Emma, about my family.  Current events and the news. She asked me about my job and how I got to where I was in life, how I met my wife and all that.  Some mornings, Emma would be up and I got to where I would bring books for her and read to her while Veronica took her shower and such.  It was like I was some sort of morning assistant.  The times we went out for lunch, it was like I was some sort of doting grandfather helping feed Emma and paying the check, though Veronica always offered to pay.

I asked her about her finances, trying to understand what the situation was, given the less than spectacular apartment compound they were living in.  I asked about her grandfather’s houses, and why she didn’t move into one like her mom.

“The thing is, after the wreck, my grandparents found out I had been working with Stephanie as an entertainer.  My grandpa lost his shit.”

“Wait a second.  You were a stripper?” I asked, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” Letting out a smile and a laugh.

“It wasn’t like that.  Stephanie convinced me to give it a try.  It wasn’t like I’m ashamed of my body, and frankly, I had already been making tips by showing off my tits and ass to people at the bar I worked at.  I mean, you have to work it to make it.  Anyway, she wanted me to come watch her dance one night when I was off.  I went, and then I started going and watching her a lot.  We’d get drunk in our apartment and she’d teach me all these moves. Finally, I got up the nerve, she talked to her boss and the next thing you know I was working an afternoon shift several days a week.”

“What about school?” I asked.

“Oh, this all happened during the break between my sophomore and junior year. It was only a month at most before the wreck.” she said. “I was juggling between my regular job as a bartender and dancing during the day when I could.  After the wreck my grandfather literally freaked out when he learned that I was dancing and the relationship has been a little touchy.”

“Why haven’t you just gone and talked to him, explain that you don’t dance anymore, that you are married and a mother now?”  I asked.

“Oh, he knows.  But he feels like he raised Kathy to be a stripper and now, his granddaughter is one too. It will all blow over.  We are slowly working things out. Eventually, Jonah and I will be in a position to move into something a lot nicer.”

Every time I talked to Veronica, I got the sense that she was one of the most well-adjusted, mature young ladies, given the circumstances.  When I would tell her that, she would just look at me and say, “You’re an idiot.  This is just life.  I know a lot of girls from high school and college who had much worse upbringings and they are fine.  You make it like I escaped some sort of vicious cycle of sex work and abuse.”  

I guess I couldn’t explain how she seemed so perfectly normal to me, yet, she had this free-spirit, she was completely unencumbered by the guilt around sex that so many of us suffer.

One morning I had stopped to grab coffee and when I got to the apartment, Veronica greeted me at the door and immediately took both our coffees and set them on the table.  Once again she was dressed only in a t-shirt and some panties.  They were black and tiny, but that was about all I could see without really staring.  The TV was on but muted as usual and Emma was still in bed asleep.

I started to talk, “Hey, I wonder if you would…” 

Veronica immediately cut me off. Before I could take a seat at the table, she pulled me by my tie and led me to the small kitchen.  “I need you to take this off and I need you to unbutton your shirt. Please.”

“Veronica, what is going on?” I asked.

“Can you just do what I want you to do?  Here, let me help you.” she insisted.

I quickly took my tie off as she began to unbutton my shirt.  I set the tie on the counter and when she had pulled the top of my shirt open, she realized I had an undershirt on beneath.  “Oh, this will have to go.” 

So she helped my remove my entire shirt and once off she neatly placed it on the back of a chair, then walked back in front of me and said, “Off!”

I removed the wife-beater undershirt and set it in a ball on the counter with my tie.  I was a little embarrassed standing there in front of Veronica without a shirt.  I’m nearly 50, and, well, gravity has its effects on men as well as women.

The kitchen light was off but there was a light above the stove that made the hair on my chest visible.  Some black, most of it gray like my mustache and goatee.  I started to talk again, “Veronica, what are we doing?”

“Shhh.”  She put her finger to her lips to quiet me.  “I need you to please close your eyes, and I am trusting you not to open them.  Please.”

I looked at her in her beautiful eyes and then closed mineThe next thing I felt was Veronica placing her hand on my chest and running her fingers through the hair, tracing my nipples with her fingers, and then eventually, pinching my right nipple.  I let out a slight moan only to have her shush me!

She then took my left hand, lifted her shirt and placed it on her right breast and held it there, using my own hand to rub her breast.  “Are you sure?” I whispered.

Once again, “Shhh.  It’s okay.”

When Veronica removed her hand from mine, I continued to fondle her nipple.  I realized that she was pierced with one of those small barbells.  Her nipple was thick and protruded out very much like my wife’s.  I was so happy to finally get to touch  and  wanted to explore the other one but when I went to raise my other hand, Veronica intercepted it and placed my arm around her back.

As I fondled her breast, she continued to explore my chest.  This all happened in about a minute or so when, eyes still closed, I realized Veronica was masturbating with her other hand.  My erection was immediate and I squeezed her nipple.  I could feel her breathing intensify.  In another 30 or 40 seconds, Veronica stopped playing with my chest but took her free arm and hugged me,  She placed her head on my chest and kissed and at one point licked my nipple, then she just left her head on my chest and continued what she needed to do.  I could hear her exhale and let out a soft moan, masking what would probably be a loud orgasm if there were not a child in the next room.

I removed my hand from her breast and then hugged her with both arms, pressing my erection into her stomach.  The entire episode lasted just minutes and when Veronica let go of the embrace, I opened my eyes and looked down at her.  She smiled with a huge grin, grabbed my undershirt from the counter and handed it to me, and said “Get dressed, mister!”

She turned and went to the bathroom, leaving me standing in the kitchen with an intense boner in my slacks.  I put on the undershirt, then walked over to the table and took a long sip of coffee.  My head was spinning.  By the time Veronica returned from the restroom, I was dressed but trying to put on my tie without a mirror.  She came out with a yellow Dollar General bag tied, and I knew for sure she was giving me her panties, especially since she was now wearing running shorts under her t-shirt.  She saw me struggling with the tie, and said, “Here, sit down and let me help you with that.”

I sat on the chair and Veronica straddled me and with this incredible grin on her face tied my tie perfectly.  There was no gyrating of the hips or grinding my still erect dick, she just tied my tie and got up.  She handed me my coffee then handed me the yellow bag and said, “These are for you, but I have to have them back.  Do whatever you need to do, but I need them back.  Now get to work!”  

It was only 7:20 – I still had ten minutes.  “I feel used!” I laughed.

At the door, she hugged me again and kissed me on the cheek.  “Go!”

I sat in the truck and after starting it, putting on my seat belt and adjusting the volume of the radio, I undid the knot in the bag to take in the scent of Veronica’s panties.  An old Frankie and the Knockouts hit was playing:

Ya know, not too long ago 
You used to close your eyes 
And say real low, uh-huh 
Baby I’m satisfied 
Oh, I remember like it was yesterday 
So stop pretendin, ooh baby, didn’t ya hear me say 
Not another lonely night, no more lonely days 
Cause I don’t want to be without you 
No, not another lonely night, cause it aint feelin right 
And it just aint the same for me 
Without you 

I felt an adrenaline rush come over me.  I wanted to pull my dick out and jack furiously, but I heard a sound behind me.  I looked in the rear view mirror and it was a vehicle pulling out from the apartment compound.  And then I looked over and saw Mrs. Kravitz staring out her window at me.  I calmly put the bag down, smiled at her and drove to work.

——Part Four – Silky ——

The drive from the apartment compound to the parking lot at work was less than 10 minutes.  Any number of thoughts and emotions raced through my mind, and frankly, I couldn’t even tell you how many cars I passed, which intersections I stopped at or got a green light through by the time I made it there.  My mind was trying to comprehend what had just happened and what was sitting in the Dollar General bag in my passenger seat.

This was not by any stretch my first encounter with a woman.  It certainly was not the first time I had done something that I think most people would equate to infidelity.  Hell, my wife would consider the entire friendship without the panties, without the coffee and without the heartfelt confessions to be at least some form of cheating.

There was that entire line of thinking, but then there was something totally different.  My wife had been in a similar situation.  She had surrendered her panties to another guy, not too many years ago.  As the husband, I was aware of and completely supportive of the entire event.  In the end, for her it was a lark.  Put some panties in the mail and send them to a friend; then look at pictures of the friend wearing them.  “Did Veronica expect me to wear these?”  I questioned myself.

I had to wonder what Jonah knew; was he a willing participant or had he even instigated all of this?  What if history was repeating itself and this young couple was now living their own version of the naughty reindeer games my wife and I used to play, but now, I had won the Lottery and I was the lucky guy to be invited in.  But I had to ask myself, “why me?”

When I parked, I looked around to be sure nobody was sitting in any of the vehicles parked around my truck.  I cautiously opened the bag and took a long drawl of the mild scent.  I looked around again, then lifted the panties from the bag and placed them beside me on the center console in the truck.  I laid them out flat, first inspecting the front.  They were black made of mostly a silky material, but the very top front had a lacy design in a V shape.  The panties were small, but not a thong or French cut, just tasteful bikini briefs.  I turned them over.  Other than the lace around the top waistband, they were the same silky material.  I imagined Veronica wearing them. Her ass, the tattoo, her legs and thighs.  I quickly tucked the panties back into the Dollar General bag, and tucked that bag into my lunch container.  I had to calm myself before walking into the building.

When I got into the office, I casually placed the bag in the bottom drawer of my desk.  I keep instant coffee, disposable shoeshine sponges and other personal crap in there.  From time to time, a gay co-worker of mine comes in my office and opens the drawer as we talk and uses my shoe shine.  But I had no need to worry about that this morning.  I checked my messages and got a cup of coffee, fired up the e-mail and said hi to a few colleagues before shutting my door.  I needed to finish quickly so I could get on with the day.

I first eased my dick out of the zipper of my pants and gave a few slight tugs.  Next, I opened the bottom drawer and pulled the panties out, careful to keep them out of the view of anyone who might come in (no locks on the office door).  I turned them inside out and for the first time, I wiped the gusset on the head of my penis which was all I needed to become fully erect.  My heart pounded and then I quickly placed them on my mouth and nose, inhaling deeply, then opening my mouth to taste what I could of what Veronica had made only half an hour earlier.

I was simply too afraid to continue this in my office, but I needed to smell her and I needed to cum.  I stood up with my dick poking out of my slacks and Veronica’s panties in my hand and walked to the closed door.  I placed my heel against the door insuring that nobody would be able to simply open it.  I took in her scent again, then stroked myself for what could not have been even a minute.  Before I could even feel myself cum, a watery spritz of pre-cum sprayed the panties, followed immediately by the release I needed.  I covered the inside of Veronica’s black panties with several white ropes of cum then used them to wipe off the remaining spunk on my dick.

There was such a sense of relief but immediately, relief was filled with both guilt and a sense of panic.  I tossed the panties on some papers on my desk, then quickly shoved my dick back in my slacks and tried to straighten myself up.  Once I had the panties turned right side out, I placed them in the Dollar General bag and put it back in the drawer.  I opened my office door, walked to the men’s room to wash my hands and then stopped and chatted with a few different people in the office before finally making my way back to my desk.

I called Veronica by 8:30 and told her I needed to swing by her house in a little while.

“Are you okay?”  She asked.

“I’m just fine, thanks.  How are you?”

“Oh, never been better.”

I got a break in what I was doing a few hours later and as people were starting to trickle out for lunch, I slipped out with the yellow bag as if it was some trash I was taking outside.  I got in my truck and moments later, I was back at Apartment 3A, and apparently, Mrs. Kravitz had never left her post.

Veronica heard me pull up onto the gravel drive and met me at the door.  When I walked in with the bag, she had a shit eating grin on her face.  “You are one dirty old-man.” she joked.

She took the bag from me and walked to the kitchen and said, “Emma, look who’s here.”  

The baby reached out for me to pick her up and said, “Book.”  

I sat down with her on the couch and grabbed the Doc McStuffin’s book she was looking at and began to read to her.

In the kitchen, I could see that Veronica had thrown the yellow bag in the trash and was placing the panties into a gallon Zip-lock bag, which she took immediately to the bedroom.  Now it was more apparent than ever, Jonah was going to know exactly what took place here this morning.  I continued to read to Emma, and Veronica returned and sat down on the other side of her daughter until I had finished the book.

—Part Five – He is Me —

Over the next month I found that I was leaving my house a few minutes earlier each day that I stopped in for coffee just so I could have a few extra minutes in discussions.  I didn’t want to arrive too early because I knew that Jonah didn’t leave until about seven.  I was thinking, if I could get to the apartment within a few minutes of Jonah leaving, there would be more time to chat and enjoy the coffee.
One morning, I pulled in and Jonah was pulling out.  He smiled and waved at me, certainly not in a snarky way, but genuinely friendly. Obviously, he wasn’t pissed off that I had cum in his wife’s panties.   I thought he was running late or maybe, I needed to adjust my timing but when I mentioned this to Veronica, she laughed and told me I was a baby.  “Why are you so afraid of Jonah? She asked.  “He likes you, he isn’t going bite.”

“How can he like me, all we’ve done is pass each other in the driveway.” I questioned.

“He likes you because I talk about you.  We talk about you.  He knows how you make my day every time we have coffee or you take Emma and me to lunch.  Why wouldn’t he like you if I like you?”
I stood there somewhat puzzled.  I was invested in this private friendship; revealing, confessing, and admitting to personal private things, and I thought, acting as that sounding board for Veronica.  “Did you tell him I have done gay things?  Does he know about the panties?”

Veronica reached out and held my forearm.  “Jonah doesn’t care about that.”  She paused and then continued.  “Did you think that what we are having is an affair? Do you think that all this being nice and helping me and buying things for Emma ends up with you leaving your family and me leaving mine so we can be together? Have I led you on because I’m not some prude who has to wear a long skirt or stand at an arm’s length when you visit?”
“Veronica, no.  I’m not saying that.  I guess I just had this weird idea that what we talked about, at least the private stuff, stayed private.”  

“James, I need you to understand that Jonah and I have an incredibly mature relationship. He doesn’t get jealous or spy on me because he trusts me and we really don’t judge one another in a way that would cause us to hide things.  I mean, I have opened up to you in ways that I never had with Jonah, but once we talked, I shared my feelings and your advice and opinions with Jonah, and that’s all the more reason for him to appreciate you.”  

I looked at my watch, it was only ten after seven and I had suddenly wished it was seven-thirty I needed to confront my own feelings and Veronica was the only person I felt completely honest with. But it is my nature to try to fix things and avoid confrontation.  “You’re right.”  I said.  “You know I love my wife and I have no intention of leaving her, no matter what I may say about her.  But Veronica, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’m pretty sure I have fallen in love with you.”  

“It’s not crazy.”  Veronica responded.  “I fell in love with you months ago, but it isn’t anything bad.  Jonah knows I love you because we share these things.  Hell, Jonah thinks I should have sex with you, but he is sort of weird that way.”

Suddenly I liked this Jonah guy.  “Uh, can you explain this to me?”  

“C’mon,” she started.  “You have to know that I gave the panties to Jonah.  Right?” 

I smiled but didn’t say anything.

“He wanted every single detail and as I rode his dick and told him how I let you play with my nipple, he kept sniffing those panties.  I swear, it was like a new drug.  He said he could taste your cum mixed with mine.  All he could talk about was wanting you to fuck me.”

“Is this for real?” I asked.  It wasn’t like I was unfamiliar with these feelings.  I mean, how many times in my own life have I asked my wife to describe every detail she could remember about a sexual encounter with another guy.  I’ve seen the Internet, I’m sure as hell not the only man to ever have this particular kink.  Yet, I never saw myself as one of the guys you choose to be your “special friend”.  “Veronica, I keep just having to ask myself, why me?”

“Look,” she began,  “When Jonah met me, I was working across the street from the base at The Rainbow Lounge.”  She paused for a few seconds. “Don’t even say it!” she demanded. 

The Rainbow Lounge is one of those hole-in-the-wall strip clubs that has been around for decades.  It is a dive, catering to military guys who can’t make it any further off base than across the street and dirty old men and creeps from the run down neighborhood nearby.  I’ve been to a few dives in my day, but The Rainbow is really bad.  By way of example, I once went in (20 years ago) with my brother-in-law.  We had a beer and the featured dancer was a pregnant lady.  Not in a Demi Moore cover of Vanity Fair beautiful way, but in a, “the dancer happens to be pregnant but needs the money” sort of way. It was not a sexy sight.   I can’t say I have been in there in years, but the place remains a punch line with the guys at work.  You know, a guy will ask, “Where can I take my wife for a really nice night out?”
Someone will say, “Take her to The Rainbow Lounge.”
“After the wreck, my world just fell apart.  I felt guilty, my grandfather was pissed at me, obviously, I couldn’t go back to the club. Without Stephanie, I couldn’t pay the rent and the lease wasn’t even in my name.  After about three weeks, shit just started to fall apart.  It seemed like the network of friends I had from St Mary’s evaporated.  I had packed all my clothes into my car and basically was going to go move back in with Kathy when out of the blue, Liz showed up.”  

“Did you know Liz from the club or the bar?”  I asked.

“No, I knew her in high school.” Veronica began to sob. “She moved me in with her and her boyfriend in 3B right next door.”  

Liz had read about the car accident in the local paper.  The story was highly controversial because, aside from the fact that two people were killed, there was some question about  the EMS responsiveness.  A very intoxicated and confused Veronica was able to call 911 on her cell phone, and even able to get herself from Stephanie’s totaled Mustang and into the equally damaged mini-van she had collided with.  The newspaper reported that according to 911 recordings, Veronica was attempting to revive the van’s driver.  Moans could be heard on the tape, indicating that the victim was still alive.  Yet, for a number of never fully explained reasons, the EMS did not make it to the scene for over 25 minutes, in spite of the fact that there was a station less than 5 minutes away.  By then, Veronica was found passed out, suffering from multiple injuries herself, and both Stephanie and the other driver were dead.  When Liz saw Veronica’s name and picture, she knew she had to reach out to her old friend.
“How does this get you to the Rainbow Lounge?”  I asked.
“I started hitting all these places looking for a new job.  The memories at the bar were just too much.  I figured I could get a gig as a bartender somewhere on this side of town.  It turned out that I was still a bit too fragile to be having job interviews.  The bars want you to be upbeat.  I was sort of out of it.”
“We’re you on drugs?” I asked.
“No.  Not at all.  In fact, since that night, I haven’t had as much as a glass of wine.  I wasn’t the one with a drinking problem, but I just lost interest in alcohol, and never did want to do drugs.” Veronica assured me.
“After about two weeks, I went to my grandfather and he wouldn’t even see me.  My grandmother told me he needed time.  My mom somehow got on the bandwagon as if she was some morale superior to me. Fuckin’ bitch.  My sister was supportive of course, but she had to start school in Austin, so Liz basically supported me.  It turns out that she had a friend of a friend who danced at Rainbow, and they knew from the paper that I had danced before.  I know it sounds sick, but they thought I might be some sort of local celebrity, a draw to the lounge.  I had no interest in dancing anymore, but at that point, I needed a job.  I was still trying to figure out how I would pay doctor bills that I owe, so I said fuck it!”

Veronica told me that she had been there for a few weeks, making very little money in tips compared to what she was making at the old place.  She wasn’t making any accusations, but it seemed like a lot of the girls made their money after they left the stage.  “Lap dances?” I asked?  

“Yea, you could say that.  And more.” she said.  “I’ll fuck anyone I want, but I won’t do it for money.”
When she wasn’t working, she spent the days trying to find a new job, but she wasn’t willing to take a minimum wage job when, in spite of its shortcomings, she was at least making more than that at the lounge.
“So where does Jonah come in?” I asked.

“Jonah comes in like a knight in fucking shining armor.” She said with a visible weight off her shoulders.
Jonah had come in with a guy Veronica had seen before, turned out to be a friend from the dorms on base.  It was clear that the guy had brought him in to see me.  This was on a weekday night so they didn’t stay really late, but every set I played, Jonah spent at least $20 or $30.  “Suffice it to say, I made more off of Jonah alone that first night than I had any other night at Rainbow.  And he kept coming in.  I don’t want it to sound like he bought me, but he sure as hell got my attention.”
Over the next two weeks, Jonah was able to secure Veronica’s number and a date.  “I told him my whole fucked up story and he never lost interest.  James, he was just like you, he wanted to know more about me and my feelings.  He was genuinely interested in me.  God, I love this man.” 

“So he wasn’t looking for a piece of ass from a dancer, he was really into you?” I asked.
“That’s the thing.  Jonah was not pushy about sex.  Oh, he wanted me, that was obvious, and frankly, I wanted him too.  But what I fully expected was for him to want me to stop dancing before he would officially date me.  I was prepared for that kind of discussion, but he said the idea of seeing me dance actually turned him on, even when other guys were stuffing dollars in my g-string. Weird, huh?”

Suddenly, things were falling into place.  I could see so much of Jonah’s mental make-up in myself.  In my own life, there had been countless efforts by me to get my wife to participate in an amateur night situation at a strip club.  The idea of her topless on a stage with other men admiring her, fueled so many of my sexual fantasies when I was younger, and now, this guy Jonah was living the dream.
“So how long before you and Jonah are together and you leave the lounge?” I asked.
“Within a month, Jonah was getting out of the military and he had a plan to go straight into school with the GI Bill.  When he met me, the school part got pushed for a semester.  We got a trailer at Vail’s down on Military a few blocks over from here.  If you think this place is bad…  Anyway, Jonah’s plan was to spend as little money as possible until we knew what we were going to do.  I danced for at least another 2 weeks, and he came with me every shift.  He would sit back at a table and watch me, and he definitely got off on watching other men watch me.  He couldn’t wait to get home and fuck my brains out.” 
“Veronica, I know this guy – he is me.” I laughed.  
“Yea, I know.  Just a younger version.”  she continued to giggle.  “So after a few weeks, I called it quits and he got on at Lowe’s.  before long, in spite of the fact that we were pretty religious about condoms, I was pregnant with Emma.  James, Does it seem strange to you that I could love Jonah so much, yet still have feelings for you?”  
“Well, I…”
She interrupted.  “Well it doesn’t matter, I do.”

——Part Six – Dancing With My Wife ——

Given the details I now understood about Jonah, and the fact that clearly, Veronica had shared with him everything she knew about me, there was no excuse for me to not meet him and at least shake hands with the guy who was allowing me to have the friendship I had with his wife.  I could have easily arrived ten minutes early, brought a third coffee from Love’s and just talked to the guy, and at least, then, we would all have this shared common thing, this bond of sorts.  But, for whatever reason, I never made the effort.
On a Saturday morning, my wife Sandra and I had a garage sale at our house, twenty-five miles from the apartment compound.  I had mentioned in passing to Veronica that usually, when we were done with garage sales, I would pack up everything that had not sold and take it to Goodwill or some other donation place so we wouldn’t have to hang on to everything.  I suggested that perhaps I could bring it by and let her pick through and take anything she wanted.  I had no idea that she would look on Craig’s List, find the address for our yard sale and show up with Jonah and Emma in tow
I was standing in the driveway talking with a man about an old grill I was trying to get rid of when my wife exclaimed, “Oh good, more customers!”
We had had a steady stream of people all morning, so I barely gave notice until Emma ran up to me with her arms outreached for me to pick her up.  In spite of the fact that I nearly shit my pants with fear, I instinctively asked Emma how she was and what she was doing here.
I told the man looking at the grill to think about it and walked with Emma toward Veronica and Jonah as they walked toward us.  My wife, a woman who has never met a stranger, didn’t even give it a second thought that this “strange” little girl ran up to me and jumped in my arms as if she knew me.  “All the kids love him.” she said in the general direction of the young couple.  “She is so precious, what’s her name?”

“This is Emma.” Veronica responded.  “She really likes him.” She chuckled while looking up at me.

I said, “She is very pretty, just like her mommy.”  I walked past Veronica to Jonah and handed him Emma saying, “I think this little girl belongs to you!”  Jonah took her and smiled at me, again, not in a mean spirited way, but a courteous smile of a fellow father.
Everyone was playing it cool but I could feel myself literally shaking with fear.  I had no idea if this was to be some confrontation.  Was Jonah here to out me to my wife?  It didn’t seem like it, but I was still completely caught off guard by this intrusion.
Sandra’s actions were not unexpected or really, much different from any of the other people who came by the house to look at our old crap.  She has a history of engaging in conversations with total strangers at the store, befriending stray husbands in the aisles at Target to show them where the cleaning products are and joking with people waiting in line for a table at restaurants.  Unlike my normally introverted personality, she is the life of the party wherever we go.  I mention this only to make the point that, in spite of how unlikely this may sound, this is not unlike my wife at all.
As Jonah and Veronica looked through our stuff, casually picking up nick-knacks, chatting with one another about mugs and small appliances on the tables set up in our driveway, Sandra moved in to offer helpful tips on the history of various things.  “My sister found that table cloth at a thrift shop in Fredericksburg but it didn’t match any of her stuff.  She thought it might match my dining room but James doesn’t think so.  So, you can have it for a quarter if you like it.”

She continued, “So are you new to the neighborhood?  We’ve been here a couple of years now and love it.”
“Actually,” Jonah offered, “we just happened to be driving around and saw your signs.  We live in south San Antonio.”
“Oh, well I’m glad you found us. I can recommend a few places in town to eat if you’d like.”
At some point between a slow stream of customers, my wife had moved to other people and I walked up to Jonah and shook his hand.  I said, “Well done, sir.” And chuckled, finally feeling a little less stressed.
Jonah said quietly, “I am so happy to meet you in person.  I want you to know that this is all good.  I’m okay with you and Veronica being friends.  I get it about your need to be on the DL, but your wife seems very nice to me.”

“Thank you, Jonah.” I said.  “I’m sorry I haven’t stopped by to meet you before this little visit. I take it Veronica instigated this little trip?”

“Of course.” We both laughed.

A customer was looking at a small boom box that was being sold for $2.00.  He asked if he could turn it on to check out the sound.  I kidded with the guy and said I would have to charge him an extra $1.00 for electricity.  He laughed and plugged the box into an extension cord that was hanging off the back of the table.  The man messed with the knobs, then tuned into KONO, a popular oldies station in San Antonio.  There was a song playing by Prince and when the man turned up the volume a little higher than expected, everyone turned and looked.
Am I the weaker man
Because I understand
That love must be the master plan (Love is the master plan)

If I gave u diamonds and pearls
Would u be a happy boy or a girl
If I could I would give u the world
But all I can do is just offer u my love
I noticed that now, my wife was carrying Emma.  Veronica, standing next to her began moving rhythmically to the tune, as if she was just following the beat, oblivious to everyone else.
D to the I to the A to the M
O to the N to the D to the pearls of love
D to the I to the A to the M (To the M)
O to the N to the D to the pearls of love
Sandra picked up the beat and the two of them bobbed heads as if they were two old friends playing records together.  The man unplugged the small boom box and said he would give me the $2.00, but wanted to know if the dancers came with it.  We all laughed together.
I was looking at Jonah but saying in general to everyone, “That’s what I’m talking about.”
My wife laughed and looked at me sternly, admonishing, “Don’t even think it, mister.”
Before I could come up with some witty response, Veronica looked at my wife and said, “Oh, it’s fun to let them think about it, even if we don’t always let them have it.”
“I like this girl.” Sandra responded, then quickly changed the subject.  “Come inside and let’s get the baby a snack.”  
The next thing I know, Jonah and I are standing outside alone and Veronica is getting a tour of my house, led by Sandra.
We walked back down the driveway away from a few people still looking at the tables of junk and then I asked him if there was anything that he wanted to ask me – basically, giving me the opportunity to come clean with him if there was any reason to.  Once I realized that this little visit wasn’t going to lead to gun-play, I had this intense urge to be as honest with Jonah as I had been with his wife.
“What made you stop?” He asked.  “What made you pull over and help my family out when nobody else seemed to give a shit?”
“You know this.” I responded.  “It’s the military.  We take care of our own, and when I saw a lady and her baby in the rain, it just wasn’t in my nature to pass them up, I guess.”
“Thank you.”  He said.  “And thank you for helping out that time someone screwed with Veronica’s credit card.”

“So let me ask you something.” I looked Jonah in the eyes.  “Do you really get off on the idea of me having sex with her?”

Jonah blushed a bit and swallowed.  “It’s really hard to explain.  Sometimes I hate myself for even contemplating all of this, but the idea of other guys, of you, being with her just sends me over the edge.  I can’t explain how I could be so turned on by it, but, ever since the first time I met Veronica, and then not long after saw another guy basically drooling over her, it was this weird turn-on that I was not only ashamed of, but couldn’t seem to get enough of.   I didn’t say anything to her about it at first.  I thought it was just some weird way of my mind trying to convince myself NOT to be with her.”

“You don’t have to explain anything.  I think I get it.” I said.  “Do you think Veronica wants this, or is this some sort of Dom/sub kinda thing?  I mean, I think she likes me as a friend  I just don’t see how she could be physically, sexually attracted to someone like me when she has someone like you at home.  I have to be honest, as much as it may turn you on, I just don’t think her and I having sex is ever going to happen for real.”

“James, I’m not forcing her to do anything.  I will admit that when she told me the story a nice older gentleman rescuing her and Emma, I turned it into a little fantasy thing.  And even though there had been nothing remotely sexual about that day in the rain, Veronica certainly turned it into quite a story.  She kept your business card on the nightstand and I suddenly had this thought that maybe she was calling you.  When I confronted her about it, I was hoping it was true, just because we had been fucking each other’s brains out with all these different scenarios involving you.  When I asked her, she told me yes, that you and her had been having phone sex.  Of course, once we fucked, she confessed that she just made it up.”

We were interrupted by another middle-aged couple walking up the driveway to visit the garage sale.  “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll be right here.” I said to them.

“But she kept the card anyway.” I said.

“That day she called you to go to the HEB, that was all her.  I had nothing to do with it.”  Jonah said.  “And I can tell you, it wasn’t an emergency.  She told me later that she just had to see you again, she needed to get the fuzzy image of you out of her system.  You were just some lucky guy who, through a random act of kindness became the focus of my wife’s, and really both of our fantasies. I know it sounds ridiculous.”

“Jonah, I can’t have sex with her.” I said.

“I don’t know.”  He responded looking back up toward the house as the ladies came walking out of the house with Emma.  “I’d like to be there when it happens.” He looked back at me and smiled.
“I don’t think you are hearing me, man.”  I said in a near whisper, worried about my wife.  “I can’t do this, especially now that her and my wife are BFF’s!  The two of them are probably planning vacations together by now.”  

Jonah let out a laugh and looked toward the girls.  “Wow!  It looks like you hit the jackpot.”  My wife had loaded Veronica up with several bags of odds & ends from the house, not unlike what she does when our own kids come by.  There were several kids books for Emma and a few kitchen items I recognized.
“This is why we never make any money at garage sales.”  I said.  “Sandra gives away the store to the first cute baby she sees.”

We walked Jonah and Veronica out to their car parked on the street.  After tucking Emma in to the car seat, Veronica hugged Sandra, repeatedly thanking her for everything.  Jonah reached out and gave me a firm handshake and said it was a pleasure meeting and speaking with me.  He then hugged my wife as if they had known one another forever.  I looked at Veronica, used to the usual hug and kiss on the cheek and I quickly reached my hand out to shake hands.  She looked at me, then looked at Sandra and said, “Your husband is a very nice man.”  She immediately came forward and hugged me, a little longer than complete strangers probably should.  “Thank you both for being so kind to us.  We’ll never forget it.”
When they pulled away, we all waved.  Sandra grabbed my hand and we walked down the driveway back to the couple picking through our junk.
——Part Seven – On Your Knees——

By late Saturday afternoon, the garage sale had run its course and the steady stream of eager pickers had dwindled down to nothing.  It was impossible for me to focus on anything but the visit that had taken place earlier.  Usually, I am the one to begin packing things into boxes for a trip to the donation center, but this time, it was my wife, Sandra who began to pack things up.

As I sat comfortably in a lawn chair, seeming to just watch my wife work, I had a million different questions going through my mind.  Had the visit been exactly as it turned out to be, just an opportunity for Veronica to push me into meeting Jonah since I had not made it happen on my own, or was there some little message behind it?  Was there some implied threat that I missed, such as, I can reach out to Sandra at any time I choose, that Veronica was trying to make?  Was she trying to expand the friendship?  Did they want my wife to be part of all this?

“Are you going to help me at all?”  Sandra interrupted my thoughts.

“Oh, are we done?” I asked, attempting to not realize the garage sale was over.

“I need most of this junk to go to Goodwill, but I’m putting everything on this table over here separately so you can take it to those people we met today.” She directed.

And once again, I felt like my blood was draining out of my body.  “Which couple do you mean?” I asked pretending to be ignorant.

“You know, the couple with the cute little girl.”

“Oh, John and Victoria?” I offered.

“You are an asshole!” Sandra play shouted.  “You couldn’t keep your eyes off Veronica’s firm boobs and little ass, but you can’t take the time to remember her name?  What a jerk.”

“Oh, yes, that couple. John and Veronica.” I responded.

“The guy’s name is Jonah.  You know, one day after she squeezes out a few kids, she’s going to be fat like me.    Do you need help with the little girls name?  Was it Cindy, was it Sally?  Guess, jerk.”

I laughed, “Yes, that was it, Sally was the cute little girl.  And you’re not fat.  You have curves in all the right places.” I continued.

Sandra said,   “I told her that I would have you run some things out to them and if they didn’t want anything, they could either share with their neighbors or have their own garage sale.  Do you know they live not far from the base?  She told me it wasn’t necessary, but I told her you would be glad to help.  I hope you don’t mind.”

“And just when am I supposed to do this?”  I protested.  “I guess I could take a lunch break if it isn’t far.” 

“Oh don’t be a baby. She gave me the address.  You can stop by on Monday.” Sandra was done discussing the matter and continued to select items the young family might want or need.

The rest of the weekend went by without further discussion of the visit, which in one way convinced me that it was all perfectly innocent, at least, nothing alarming had been reveled to my wife.  I imagined Veronica walking through the house being given the grand tour by my wife.  I felt a tinge of guilt. You’d think about having this young girl I’ve lusted over, who I’ve confided in, and who’s panties I had sniffed and masturbated into, being befriended by my wife. In reality, my guilt was that I seemed to have so much in material things compared to this beautiful young couple and their child.  And then, to add insult to injury, I’d be bringing the left over throw-away items I couldn’t get rid of for quarters and dollars at a garage sale, to this young couple barely making ends meet.  I know it wasn’t that way, but I just felt bad about it all.

On Monday morning, I grabbed coffees from Love’s and headed to Veronica’s apartment.  I fully expected that somehow, Jonah would be there waiting for me, but his car was gone and so was he.  My truck was loaded with items from the garage sale, but I had no intention of unloading them until later.

Veronica was waiting for me at the door.  “I’m sorry if we caught you off guard, she said with a little grin, but it was the only way we would ever get to see what you are like away from here.  I’m so used to seeing you dressed like this (slacks, shirt and tie), I almost didn’t recognize you in shorts and a t-shirt.”

I didn’t even comprehend what she was saying.  Veronica was wearing one of my shirts. It was actually a brand new t-shirt that I had only worn once and tucked into a drawer never to make the rotation again because of the color.  Maroon.  I knew it was mine because it was a high school t-shirt I bought while visiting my home town two years ago. “Where’d you get that?” I asked, walking into the apartment and shutting the door behind me.

“Where do you think?  I bought it at the garage sale, Mr. Cranky Pants.”

I set our coffees on the table and noticed that one of the chairs from the dining room table was sitting by itself in the middle of the living room.  Before I could ask, Veronica grabbed my tie and pulled me to the chair.  “What’s going on now?” I asked.

“I need you to do something for me.” she said.

She had me sit in the chair, and then she walked toward the bedroom.  I immediately looked at her panties, wondering if this was another situation like last time where we would both provide a souvenir for Jonah.  They weren’t the same black ones, but rather a pair of silky pink bikini bottoms.  I smiled, pleased with the thought.  My mind quickly turned to the idea of a lap dance.

Veronica was going to perform a lap dance for me.  That had to be it.  She came out of the bedroom and quietly shut the door so Emma wouldn’t hear.  She was carrying a pillow from the bed and suddenly I imagined that she was going to kneel before me and give me a blow job.  Oh my god! This was going to happen I had convinced myself.

Veronica set the pillow down in front of the chair and said, “I don’t know what you are thinking, but that isn’t it.  I need you to shut your eyes, please.”

“What?” I asked?

“Just do it you big baby.” She said.

I shut my eyes and sat there.  I could hear Veronica moving, hoping that I would next feel her unbuckling my pants.  Instead, she said,  “Open your eyes.”

I opened my eyes and was staring into the maroon t-shirt with my high school mascot, an eagle head similar to the Philadelphia Eagles logo.  I looked lower and for the first time, I realized the panties were on the floor and I was seeing Veronica’s most private parts.

The pubic hair was not shaved but very closely trimmed, not a five o’clock shadow, but a definite buzz cut.  I gasped with surprise and desire as I quietly inspected what I had imagined in my mind for months.  The dark brown coloring combined with black pubic hair was similar to my own wife’s.  Very often in Hispanic women, if you were to only view the lower body focusing in on the vagina, you might think you are looking at a Black woman.  Veronica was not as dark, yet she obviously had the Hispanic features I loved about my own wife.  What was very much different was the outer lips.  They were much larger than my wife’s, and I loved the idea of taking them, taking all of her into my mouth.  I pressed my nose to her stomach and Veronica asked me to close my eyes again.  I did as she asked and then asked her, “Are you okay with this?”

She said, “I’m about to video tape you, are you okay with that?”

I let out a quiet laugh, then inhaled her scent and whispered, “yes.”

It was clear to me that Veronica had had sex.  That musk of the female combined with the obvious smell of a man’s cum.  My mind raced.  This is happening, this is really, really, actually happening was all I could think to myself.

Veronica said, “Off the chair and on your knees, please. And please keep your eyes closed.   Say whatever you want, but know that Jonah is who you are talking to. And don’t wake up Emma.”

I slowly reached out to Veronica to stabilize myself then knelt on the pillow.  I reached behind her and placed both my hands on her firm, beautiful ass, and began to kiss her pubic area.  I asked her to please lift the shirt and she did.  I placed my nose in her belly button and felt a small metal naval ring and got the inkling to see if her other nipple was also pierced.  I removed my right hand from her ass and began to navigate up her shirt but she stopped me.

“No.”  She said quietly but firmly.  “Taste me.  Taste Jonah and me.”

My hand returned to her ass and I pulled her body into my face.  It had been months, at least four months since I had gone down on my own wife, and that was as we played in the Jacuzzi.  There was literally no other taste than the bromine solution used to keep the tub clean.  Now, my tongue was lapping at a delicious young woman and the sex created by her and her young and virile husband.

Most men would find the concept revolting. The idea of performing oral sex on a woman who has just engaged in sexual relations with another man is for the average guy, the last possible sexual act he’d want to engage in (okay, maybe just before being penetrated in the ass).  But for a small percentage of men, this is the Holy Grail.  For years, I had fantasies of going down on my wife after another guy had been there, and technically, I had done this on many occasions.  Believe me.  But in this case, unlike our own engagements, this other man had left his deposit, so to speak, and now, Veronica and Jonah were giving this gift to me, though in a way I never expected it.

Between the eager licking, tonguing, kissing and sucking, I was starting to find a spot where I could feel Veronica pushing her body into me with a determined rhythm.  I wanted badly to look up and see her face, but Veronica trusted me to keep my eyes closed, and I did.

My mustache and beard, really my whole face was soaked in my own saliva and Veronica’s juices.  In the same way that she had cum so quickly masturbating that day, in only minutes she was letting out that soft moan I was so happy to hear.  For myself, I genuinely feared that I would be forced to leave my briefs with Veronica so they could be washed and dried before I went home that evening after work.  It was more than just an erection; I felt like a 7th grader seeing cheerleaders practice the splits for the first time. I seriously thought I was about to cum, and if she as much as brushed up against my slacks, I would.

“Open your eyes.”  Veronica said firmly.  I stopped my assault on her pussy and took another quick look at her beautiful, soaked and matted pubic area.  I could see she was still holding the phone, recording me.

Veronica knelt down with me on the pillow and immediately kissed me with tongue, sharing everything I had just experienced in her.  She broke the kiss entirely too quickly and said, “I love you, James.”  She then looked into the camera with a smile and said, “Jonah, I love you more than life itself.”

After the camera was switched off, she told me to wash up.  When I returned from the bathroom, the chair was back at the table and the pillow was sitting on the couch.  Veronica had her panties on and in fact had slipped on some shorts and some slippers.  She said we should go get the boxes from my truck.  I asked if she was kicking me out and she said, “Yes, James, I’m forcing you to go to work with an erection, once again.”

We placed the boxes on the front porch then I got in my truck and started to pull out of the drive.  I saw Mrs. Kravits staring and I waved to her and smiled. No reaction.

I pulled onto the road and realized I never even finished my coffee.  I turned up the radio and  KJ97, a country station was playing a song by Sara Evans.

Lying here with you
Listening to the rain
Smiling just to see the smile upon your face
These are the moments I thank God that I’m alive
These are the moments I’ll remember all my life
I’ve found all I’ve waited for
And I could not ask for more

When I got home from work I was worried that Sandra would smell the result of me briskly washing my face at least four or five times during the course of the day.  I actually went to one of my trusted co-workers and demanded that he smell my face for any remaining evidence. He’s gay and told me that if he were to throw-up, I would know there was still a hint of pussy on my beard.  He didn’t.  And when I kissed my wife, there was no reaction or slap to the face, so all was good.

We ate dinner and as we were cleaning up Sandra got an IM on her phone.  :It’s your little girlfriend, Victoria.” she laughed.  My legs went wobbly.  “Oh, she sent me a video.”

I walked out of the kitchen and just crumpled onto the recliner.  “Jesus,” I said, “do you give out your e-mail address and phone number to every person that comes to our garage sales?” 

I was starting to panic but tried to remain as calm as possible.  I sat in the chair and could hear faint sounds coming from Sandra’s phone in the kitchen.  I was literally shaking with fear, and my stomach was doing somersaults.

“Oh, this is so precious!” my wife exclaimed.

I was physically unable to move.

“Check this out.”  She came over to where I was sitting and it was a video of the kitchen table with two tall coffees still sitting there untouched.  And then there was Emma sitting with a Dr. Seuss book, one that Sandra had given her during the garage sale.  With some prompting from Veronica, Emma says, “Thank you Miss Sandra.”  

Veronica says, “What about Mr. James?” 

Emma looks into the camera, “I love you, James.”

“Isn’t that just precious?”  Sandra started the video again and watched it a few more times before texting Veronica back to thank her for making her day.

——Part Eight – Breakfast  ——

Sandra did not bring up the video of Emma again, and by the time we headed off to bed, I had decided that perhaps Veronica was just being friendly and simply did not realize how the timing of things caused me a near heart attack.  But even then, I decided that I needed to try to cool things down.  As much as I was turned on by the sexual shenanigans taking place, what I really enjoyed about Veronica was our conversations.  I felt like I needed to taper off on the visits.  And then morning came.

On the drive into work, I found myself making a stop for coffee and that all but sealed the deal that I would be stopping by to explain how both the unexpected visit and the sending of the video came across as both stalkish and inconsiderate.  I needed to make her understand the need to think these things out before just acting on what seems like an innocent thing.

When I pulled into the driveway at the apartment compound, the Honda was there.  I looked at the clock on the radio and it was already a little after seven, Jonah should have been gone by then.  I was stopped in the driveway contemplating the idea of turning around and leaving but then I noticed the light of the TV on in Veronica’s apartment.  What sort of jerk would I look like if I chickened out?

I pulled forward and parked next to the Honda, then grabbed the coffees and walked to the door.  Jonah opened the door, standing there in gym shorts and a muscle shirt. I started to mumble, “I, uh, good morning, is Veronica…”

Jonah interrupted me, “Come on in, James.” putting me out of my misery and embarrassment.

Veronica was standing in the kitchen frying some eggs and looked at me with a cheery smile and asked how I like mine.  This entire scene was just so unbelievably unnatural. I’m greeted by the husband who watched a video of me eating his wife just 24 hours earlier, and she is standing there in her panties asking me how I would like my eggs.  It was like I was on another planet.

“Over easy, if you don’t mind.” I quietly responded.

Jonah offered me a seat, my usual place at the table, and said, “I have the day off today and I don’t have a class until two-thirty.”

“Wow, I’m surprised you guys don’t sleep in when you can.” 

“Well, Veronica wanted to be up in case you came by this morning, so, here we are.” Jonah said as he looked over at Veronica bringing plates to the table.

“Jonah, are you cool with all this, I mean, yesterday, the, well, you know.” I tried to make sense.

“Seriously, man, we’re good.” He began to eat his eggs.

Veronica did not have the slightest bit of embarrassment at all about our little encounter.  “Last night, Jonah made me describe how good you were at going down on me.  I swear, he watched that video ten times if he watched it once.”  She lifted her fried egg onto a piece of toast, then took a bite, looking up at Jonah with love in her eyes.

There was a video taken one night in the mid 1990’s.  Our kids were spending the night with cousins and we had invited a buddy over.  Somehow, the stars aligned and we were playing a game where, Sandra sat topless on the couch, blindfolded and my buddy and I took turns fondling and kissing and licking her nipples.  She had to guess who was who.  I had pulled out our huge VHS video camera and was recording the game, handing our buddy the camera when it was my turn at my wife’s still very firm and perky tits.  Eventually, the game changed rules, and I have video of my buddy going down on my wife.  She grabbed the back of his head and the idea that he would stop to let me have a turn was soon forgotten.  After several minutes, my focus is less on the back of my friend’s head expertly moving to the rhythm of Sandra’s gyrations, and more to the look on her face.  Her incredible tits are bouncing only slightly with the movement of her lower body.  The blindfold, no longer effective at concealing the identity of her lover is only barely hanging on covering one eye.  Sandra looks up at me and mouths, “I love you,” before cumming all over my friend’s face.

“Pass the salt, please.” Veronica interrupts my thought.

“Jonah, what do you have going on today?” I asked, handing the salt shaker to Veronica.

“We have to do some grocery shopping and I need to get a haircut, but other than that, nothing until my class at two-thirty. Why, what do you have going besides work?” He responded.

“I think you and I need some time alone without all the women-folk.  How ’bout I pick you up in an hour or so, we can get haircuts and we’ll worry about groceries later.”

Jonah looked at Veronica and she gave him a shrugged shoulders response.  She then looked at me and sarcastically asked, “Why don’t you ever take me out on a fun date?”

I quickly responded, “I’m going to take you and Emma on a fun date to the HEB later this afternoon.  How’s that?”

We all finished our breakfast, Jonah and Veronica shared one of the coffees, and before long, Jonah was clearing the table, placing the dishes in the sink.  I liked that he didn’t see this as a strictly wife duty.  Veronica and I walked to the door and I opened it.  It still cracked me up that she had no issue at all with standing in her doorway or on her porch for that matter in her panties.  As Jonah washed the plates, Veronica asked, “What do you plan on doing with my husband, and what about work?”

“I want to get to know Jonah, and B, you let me worry about work.  And 3, do you realize you nearly gave me a heart attack when you sent the video to Sandra?”

Veronica looked up at me puzzled, “Why would that give you a heart attack?”  

She genuinely had no concept of a jealous or suspicious wife. “Don’t you think that, if you and I made a sex-video yesterday, then you send my wife a video, I might somehow think that you were sending my wife the video of me eating your delicious pussy?”  I couldn’t even be mad now, given that Veronica clearly had meant nothing with the timing.

“James, I’d never do anything to hurt you or you wonderful wife.” she said.  Jonah walked up behind her as we said our goodbyes.

“I gotta run, but I’ll be back in an hour or so.” I said, starting to turn away.

Veronica grabbed me by the arm and when I turned back to her, she lifted her shirt and flashed her tits at me for just a second.  Jonah laughed.  She then reached up and pulled on my neck to bring me down to her level, and with Jonah watching, kissed me on the lips.  “I’m about to get a good fucking.” she laughed, and shut the door.

——Part Nine – Just us Guys ——

I walked into my office and checked e-mail and phone messages, then looked at my calendar.  Aside from one message, a co-worker calling me to say she had to take her kid to a dental appointment in the morning and wouldn’t be in until noon, there was nothing pressing.  I made a few calls, sent a few e-mails, talked to a few people then went upstairs and talked to my co-worker to tell him I was playing hooky for a few hours.  If anything important came up, he should call me on my cell phone.
I rarely take time off, never call in sick, and stay at work long after most of my co-workers leave for the day.  Even on the mornings that I would visit Veronica, I was still in the office before most of the others.  In short, skipping out for a few hours was nothing for me to feel guilty about.
When I got back to the apartment compound, I found Mrs. Kravitz at her post, looking at me, looking at her.  I smiled with no response from her.  Jonah walked out the front door to come to the truck and Veronica, holding Emma waved good bye.
Jonah was wearing jeans with well worn boots and a Texas A&M t-shirt.  He smelled freshly showered and I recognized the Axe body wash my son uses.  He seemed enthusiastic about our little adventure and asked where we were off to.  I drove out of the compound up to Military then headed west toward Highway 90.  I told him I wanted to go someplace we could talk and get to know each other a little better.   We stopped in at a Barbecue place and got some ice teas for our trip.  We had a little chit chat and small talk as I drove.
 I had the idea of going to an old fishing hole I took my kids when they were younger, and before long, we were on Highway 90 headed west toward the town of Castroville.  I had the radio playing fairly low so we could talk but I asked Jonah what stations he listened to.  What really surprised me about both Veronica and Jonah was the fact that they seemed so mature.  Granted, at 25, I felt mature too, but in retrospect, I was just a little kid.  Jonah shared a wide interest in musical tastes like me, saying, “Anything but hip hop.”

He started punching the pre-sets to get an idea about the stations I listen to and with each new station, he would say, “That’s cool” or “I can get into that.
He hit the last button, a station called Tejano 107.5, and Jimmy Gonzales and Grupo Mazz were belting out one of their hits.

Pero tengo que aceptar
Nada gano con llorar
Como pudo esto pasar
Me pregunto

Que manera de perder
Mas y mas; me acuerdo mas
Pero nada se compara amor
Como te quiero

Once you get beyond Loop 1604 anywhere south of Highway 90 in San Antonio, you suddenly find yourself in the middle of farms and ranch land.  Texas is huge, and you can find yourself feeling the freedom of space just 15 or 20 minutes from the metropolis.  We listened to the music with very little discussion and then I turned south onto Melcher Lane, directly between two cornfields.  At the end of the road we turned east onto Gross Lane and I pulled the truck off the road into a clearing at a bridge where the Medina River crosses, maybe 40 to 50 feet at the most.  The water is low enough that you could easily walk across most the way, and maybe get wet up to your waist at the deepest.  Of course, wearing slacks and a shirt with tie, I had no intention of swimming.
I had not been to this place in years.  I had these memories of taking my kids with small fishing poles and letting them fish, with absolutely no expectation of catching anything.  We could spend an hour or two with maybe one other car passing by the whole time.  If nothing had changed, I expected Jonah and I could kick back, drink tea and get to know one another with little interruption.  And that’s what we did.
I had the windows on the truck rolled down and I pulled the keys out of the ignition so I could open the door without the irritating bing bing bing.  I began to loosen my tie and Jonah looked over at me, a bit alarmed and said, “Hey, I’m totally cool with you and your whole Bi thing, but I need you to know that I’m not that way.”
I laughed out loud, “Relax.  I’m not here to convert you.”  
There is an assumption that the men into “this thing” have latent homosexual feelings and they utilize their wives as a way of secretly fulfilling the need for contact with other men.  While in a way, I can see how that might be true in some men, I have known too many guys that simply had no interest whatsoever in any form of male to male contact, yet, were extremely flexible if the activity involved the wife.  I know that Veronica would have told me if Jonah was bi, or if she even suspected that he had hidden feelings about it.  The idea that he could get off on the panties with my load so elegantly painted on them, did not surprise me in the least, given what I have learned over the years.
I took my tie off and placed it on the dash then rolled up my sleeves and made myself a little more comfortable. We were parked beneath a very large oak that provided a huge canopy of shade, but without much of a breeze, it wouldn’t be long before the temperature would rise and things would be uncomfortable without the benefit of air conditioning.  I repeated myself, “I’m not here to convert you, but if you feel the urge to show me your dick, I won’t complain.” 
We both laughed and Jonah responded, “I think I’m good.”
With that little ice breaker, our conversation flowed for more than an hour.  Jonah told me about his time in the military, his tour in the war zone, and probably a little more detail than he should have shared.  He told me about his family, growing up and in particular, the story about losing his virginity while visiting his uncle in Cotulla.  There was definitely more to the story than Veronica had told me.
It turned out that his uncle Steven was actually not much older than him.  Jonah’s dad was the oldest of the family and Steven was the youngest, just about six or seven years older than Jonah.  That year, the uncle had been seeing this younger gal.  I hesitate to use the words Statutory Rape, but given the fact that the uncle was over twenty-one and the young lady was sixteen or so (I’m not sure of the exact details here) I think it would be safe to assume.  Right or wrong, I get the feeling this type of relationship probably happens in many smaller towns in Texas, and elsewhere.  Plus, defending his uncle, Jonah said, “Look how old you are compared to Veronica.”
I quickly responded, “We’re not here to talk about Veronica.  Tell me about your first time!”
Turns out Jonah got quite the education.  Steven had been with the teenage town pump on numerous occasions, as had apparently many of the boys and young men in Cotulla.  With the promise of enough Jack Daniels for everyone, the girl, Tabitha, agreed to a threesome.  The three had an ice chest of Mexican Cokes, a fifth of Jack and plastic cups with them when they headed onto the family hunting lease.  There was fairly rustic travel trailer used as a hunting camp, and the boys knew it was not being used that weekend.
When they arrived, Jonah cranked on the air conditioner, they turned on some music and the party commenced.  For Jonah, his role was mostly as observer.  He sipped his drink and watched voyeuristically as his uncle engaged the teen.  She was easily the more experienced which Jonah told me he found both exciting, but sad.  “How could this girl who was the same age as me know so much?”
When Uncle Steven finished his turn, he pulled up his pants and walked to the kitchen part of the trailer to refill his cup.  Jonah sat frozen, realizing that he was now required to take action.  He had no idea that when Tabitha suggested he go down on her, that he was being made the butt of a joke.  Jonah thought nothing of the used condition of his first sexual partner and did as instructed.  Several years before he was even aware of the term, Jonah experienced his first cream pie.
Steven came back and busted out laughing at the sight of Jonah with his face buried in used pussy. Instead of being embarrassed, Jonah happily continued, then promptly stood up, dropped his pants and proceeded to do what came natural, “for a full forty-five seconds.”
He said that he and the uncle took turns twice, before they both passed out drunk.  He has no idea whatever became of Tabitha but he hoped the best for her.
Jonah described how he came to meet Veronica at the lounge and how it took him a while to convince her, not only to go out with him (that was an expensive endeavor) but how he was actually cool with the fact that she danced for other men.  This is where I felt like we were getting to the point in the conversation where I wanted to be.   I really wanted to understand this mindset that obviously, was somewhat similar to my own.
Jonah’s first encounter with a woman was certainly unconventional and it would turn out, when he was in the military he had met a guy, Tom, who was a few years older, married and apparently, a swinger.  The stories Tom would tell Jonah in private were certainly titillating.  Tom and his wife would attend swing parties, and they had even gone on a trip to Jamaica where Tom and his adventurous wife spent four days and three nights of non-stop sex with others.  The trip culminated with his wife picking up a local who spent the evening in their villa ravaging her while her husband watched and furiously masturbated.  When he described for Jonah the ensuing cream pie and his consumption thereof, Jonah casually told him that he too had experienced that, though not with a well endowed Jamaican man, but rather his uncle and a sixteen year old girl.
I was seeing that with just these limited experiences; Jonah had a completely different point of view.  I had always been guarded with the idea, the fantasy of it.  On the other hand, for Jonah, this was simply another item on the menu of sexual encounters.  Though he had no interest in sucking a dick, the idea of eating his own or someone else’s cum from a vagina was neither gay, nor gross.  “Name a woman who hasn’t sucked a dick after it has been inside her own pussy.  Why is it any different?” he asked.
Jonah asked me how it started for me and my wife.  When did I realize that I had this turn-on, and how did I get her to join in the fun.  
A Polaroid camera.” I said. “That was the real start for us.”
“I’m not sure I understand.” Jonah replied, opening the truck door on his side to get out.  “Hang on a second, I gotta pee.”  
Jonah walked to the large oak near the truck and stood there without an attempt to block himself from the view of the street, though facing away from me for privacy.  I turned away from where he was peeing on the tree and focused my eyes in the rear view mirror looking back at the road.
“Hey!” he called out to me.  When I turned to look, I found Jonah was flashing his dick at me.  He laughed and said, “There’s your free show.” He quickly zipped up and returned to the truck.  “So what about the Polaroid camera?” 
I explained the earliest years of my marriage and how my wife found a soft spot for a co-worker of mine who, after meeting and marrying the hottest girl in his squadron suddenly found himself in a sexless marriage only a year or two into it.  I was turned on by the fact that this guy would confess the details of his private life to my wife, and more turned on when she agreed to let me show him some of the nude pictures I had taken of her using a Polaroid instant camera, the pre-cursor of sending nude digital pictures via phones.  
Though I never fully understood the depths of my personal voyeuristic interests until much later in life, the picture sharing was a first step in becoming sexually aroused by watching another man’s arousal at my wife.
As we continued to talk, Jonah pulled out his phone and began messing with it.  I realized, he had  dozens and dozens of images of Veronica in various poses and stages of undress.  He handed me the phone and said, “I think I have the same turn-on.”
The first time I saw both of Veronica’s tits was when she briefly flashed me, now I could zoom in and learn that only one nipple had been pierced.  “Yea,” Jonah chuckled, “the first one hurt so bad, she refused to get the second one done.”  
There were pictures in lingerie, pictures of her totally nude, fully clothed, several close-ups of her vagina, shots of her looking up at the camera as she sucked Jonah, and one that I fell in love with immediately, just her from the chest up with her hair fully done and make-up applied, almost like one of those old Glamour Shot photos.  “Wow!  What was going on here?”  I asked.
Her friend Liz was working at Macy’s for a while and one of the ladies gave them both a free make-up session as part of some event.  “We couldn’t afford to buy all that make-up, and frankly, Veronica looks great without it, but yea, I love that picture too.”
I didn’t want to appear overly creepy staring at the pictures, but it was obvious that Jonah enjoyed watching me look at them.  “I’ve shown a few other guys before,” he said.  “But Veronica has never felt the urge to do anything with any of them.”   
“Do you really think she has an urge to do something with me?”  I asked.
“It’s kinda weird, but she knows I have this interest and since she genuinely likes you, I think she feels like you are a safe person for her to make both of us happy.”  

“So what your saying is, Veronica is not just into older guys, this is all for you?” 

“She tells me everything.  I totally get that she loves spending time with you and loves what you talk about and have to say, but I also know that I asked her to masturbate for you and I also asked her to video tape you the other day.  And this morning when she flashed you, that was her on her own, but as soon as you left, I did give her a good fucking.”

None of this came as a shock to me, though admittedly, it was a little painful to hear.  I handed Jonah the phone and said, “I love those pictures.  You realize I would never get any work done if I had them on my phone.”  We both chuckled.
“Veronica would let you have them if you asked.”  He told me.  “You’ve just never asked her.”

“Are there any sort of limits?” I asked Jonah.  “You know, these all seem tame in terms of where they were taken.  I’ve figured out that Veronica is not ashamed of her body or nudity, but have you asked her to do stuff that she won’t?”

Jonah sighed a little with a slight chuckle.  “I guess I’ve learned not to push the envelope, but I would say she is open to most things.”
“What pushed the envelope?” I asked.
“When we first talked about the whole thing of me watching and she said she’d be willing to give it a try, I wanted to just jump right into it.  We were at some friend’s house; it was like a little cook out.  I suggested she seduce one of the guys, maybe a little make out session away from others but where I could watch.  She wasn’t excited about that at all.  In fact, she got upset.”
“Yea, I guess that does seem a little abrupt to start things off.” I offered.
“I tried to get her to explain to me what the difference was between that and things she had done while dancing or when she would tend bar and put on a show for tips.  That just made it worse.”
“Just digging the hole deeper, weren’t you?” I laughed.
“She told me that things had to feel right.  It’s one thing to flash boobs at a concert, it’s another thing to walk up to your friend’s husband and shove your tits in his face, she told me.  On the other hand, one night, she did exactly that and she was cool about it.”
“Okay, now you have to tell me about that.” I asked.
“Yea, so we were at this cook out, a different one, when this guy we know kept drinking beer and the more he would drink, the more obvious it was that he was staring at Veronica’s boobs.  I mean, they are nice, but they aren’t like these huge melons.” Jonah laughed.  

“Anyway, Veronica went to the guys wife and said, I hope you don’t mind, but I just need to do this.  The wife was in on the whole thing, and as it turned out, all the wives were in on it.  Long story short, my buddy Mike got caught staring and Veronica says “Are you sure you can see?” And she lifts up her shirt and sticks her tits right in Mike’s face.  The first thing that happens is, Mike trips over a lawn chair and falls backwards on his ass, then his wife who, like I say is in on the whole thing comes over and starts giving him a huge rash of shit about being a pervert and all that.  Everyone just busted out laughing and Veronica just gave me a wink knowing I was cool with it all.”

“Yea, she’s a good sport.”  We both continued to chuckle over it.
“Have you ever taken any sort of daring public pictures, you know, the sneaky boob shot at McDonald’s or bent over at Home Depot?” I was obviously hoping for more detail.
“Hang on a sec.”  Jonah took his phone and logged into an e-mail account then opened up a picture.  It was Veronica posing topless in front of a San Antonio Police sub-station.  “Daring enough?” Jonah asked.
“Unbelievable!” I said.  “I hope you won’t be offended, but I absolutely love your wife.”
“Yea, I get that.” He laughed.
There were a few more pictures of her posing in public places.  One of those ATM enclosures with the lights fully shining on her, she is facing the parking lot, and Jonah obviously took the picture from outside the little glass building.  There are several taken inside The Adult Video Megaplex where she has lifted her skirt to reveal she is not wearing panties.  One lifting the front, and two or three of her bending over.   “The manager asked us to please leave, but everybody was cool about it. They didn’t make a scene and we just thanked them and left.  I mean, really, this is amateur hour when you consider the stuff she did at the bar.”
I asked Jonah about the bar.  Had he ever thought it would be nice to pretend to be just a regular customer and sit through her shift as she put on the show getting tips from creepy guys like me?  He said he has, a lot.
“I know it sounds demeaning and all, but the idea of it, it just gives me such a rush.  I don’t think of her as a piece of meat.  I love her and she knows I love her, but this little thing, it’s really like some sort of drug addiction I have.  If she wasn’t so cool about it all, I’m not sure what I would do.”
“You’d think about it all the time and then you’d probably look at a lot of porn.”  I laughed.
“Yea, well I do that anyway.” He laughed with me.

As we chatted, two Medina County Sheriff cruisers sped over the bridge in front of us.  They didn’t have sirens on, but they had their lights on and were going quite fast.  I looked at Jonah and said, “I think we ought to take this as a sign.  Plus, there is something I want to show you.”  

I started the truck and we headed back up to Highway 90 and back into San Antonio.  The conversation continued as we drove with more details about how my wife and I finally had our first threesome after years of talking about it, and details of my wife being unfaithful – if that was what you call it – and how turned on I was by her sneaking around.  When we made our way back into town I took the Old Hiway 90 cut-off and drove a mile down before turning into Rodriguez Park.  At 11 in the morning, the park was fairly empty.  We parked in a parking lot near a pavilion with a sprinkling of other cars spaced out for obvious privacy.  I was eager to show Jonah one of the entertaining secrets I learned years ago about this place.
Every few minutes, a car would pull up next to one of the vehicles already parked.  Your first reaction would be that this was some sort of drug deal or maybe even a place for closeted homosexual men to engage in quick, anonymous sex.  Instead what it most certainly was, was a place for sanchas and sanchos to meet while their kids were in school.  I told Jonah, “These people are here to cheat on their spouses.”

Jonah didn’t find the same thrill from all this that I did, and then it became obvious to me how we were so much the same yet so different.  Here we were, two guys sitting in the same vehicle.  We’ve looked at pictures of his wife and told stories about our sex lives.  In Jonah’s case, everything he was doing was perfectly acceptable to his wife, and there was nothing about his day that he would hesitate to share with her.  I had been in the same truck, same conversations, and yet, the fact that I was here was a secret.  I could never reveal to my wife that I had even spent the morning drinking tea and driving around with Jonah, much less looked at nude images of his wife.  It isn’t that my wife is a prude, but clearly, something went wrong in our relationship years ago that caused our communication to cease.
Jonah asked me, “Don’t you think it is sad that so many people come here?”  
“I don’t.  That’s my problem.” I said, “I am totally turned on by everyone of these couples.  I want to know the details, I want to understand what went wrong in their marriage and how they ended up meeting someone in a park just to talk, maybe make-out a little.  I mean, look around.  None of these people are fucking; they’re just spending time together like Veronica and I do.  We just do it over coffee in your apartment.” 

Two more cars slowly pulled in a respectable distance from the truck.  We casually watched a woman in her late 40’s, very pretty with nicely frosted hair wearing Capri’s and a sleeveless shirt get out of her car then climb into the passenger seat of the car that had parked next to her. The man, at least 10 years younger looked to be wearing a uniform shirt, similar to the type the utility company issues.  They embraced immediately, but settled down to talk.  

“Can you help me with something?” Jonah asked.  “What is this whole Bi thing about?  I mean, I know several gay dudes from when I was in the military.  But what’s your story?”

“What’s to know?”  I responded.  “I’ve known since I was very young that I loved girls but for some explainable reason, I am sexually attracted to certain aspects of men.  Namely, their dicks.”

Jonah laughed. “So if you weren’t married to your wife, would you marry a man?”

“No, not at all.  It is a sex thing.”  I said.  “At least at this point in my life.  I never had the urge to develop emotional feelings to a guy the way that I do with a woman.  I mean, look at Veronica.  It took me a very short time to realize that I had formed an emotional attachment with her.  In another life, I could see her an I together – though I would surely allow you to join us from time to time.”

We both laughed more.  “But with guys, I could be friends, but I don’t see myself walking along the beach, holding hands and making wishes on shooting stars.  But I will suck his dick.”

“I did try it once.” Jonah looked down a little sad.  “It happened with Steven and Tabitha at the camp.”

“Oh, man.  You don’t have to talk about it.” I offered.

“It wasn’t a big deal, really.  But it wasn’t for me.  We were all really wasted and Tabitha dared me to do it.  She taunted me, saying, “We already know you like the taste”.  Steven pulled out his dick and stuck it in mt face, and said, “Yea faggot, we already know you want it”.”

“Tabitha laughed and kept telling me to suck it.  So I just did, for all of one second.  I put it in my mouth, then pushed it out and that was it.  I’m absolutely sure I’m not gay.”  He laughed a little but I just smiled at him.

“I suppose not.” I said.

My phone rang and it was work.  I was going to have to get back in the office and Jonah needed to get home anyway.  When we pulled out of the park we drove slowly past a mini-van parked next to a pick-up truck.  Nobody was visible through the tinted windows but the van was rocking way more than a parked car should.  

“I guess some people do come here to fuck.” I said, and Jonah laughed with me. 

——Part Ten – The Letter ——

Following  the day trip with Jonah, I limited my visits to once or  maybe twice a week.  On two occasions, Jonah was home.  I no longer needed to bring coffee because little did I know; one of the items found in our box of garage sale leftovers was a coffee pot that worked.  This little fact caused me a lot of internal conflict.  For the amount of money I had spent on coffee at Love’s over these last six months, I could have easily bought Veronica a new coffee maker and 6 months worth of coffee.  Yet, here I was happy to sit in a small apartment, having pleasant conversations and occasionally enjoying the view of a new color of panties or the latest pictures she was now eager to share with me.
On both occasions when Jonah was present, he pushed the conversation toward an encounter.  In short, he wanted for me to strip down and get busy with Veronica, then leave so he could finish.  Both Veronica and I pushed back.  Her desire was for more of an arranged scene, particularly one that didn’t involve a sleeping 2-year-old in the next room. “Maybe we could go to a bar, then James would come and be the seducer, picking me up while you watch.  Doesn’t that sound exciting?” Veronica offered.
I had a much different reason for pushing back.  I cared for these two and didn’t want to screw things up by, well, screwing.  That seems honorable, I suppose, but I was also a little nervous about performing well, and about how Veronica might be put off by the sight of my 50 year-old body and all the flaws that come with it.

“No matter what happens,” Jonah told me more than once, “I will never be upset.  Whether I get to be present or not, you have my complete approval to do whatever Veronica wants to.”
You can’t look at an incredibly beautiful lady with a beautiful body who has a warm and engaging personality and not have at least some urges, and certainly, I never stopped having sexual thoughts about Veronica, but now that I knew her and Jonah and the child, it seemed like my fatherly instincts had taken over.  My inputs into the conversation involved guiding the couple toward a better life.  Don’t get me wrong, kudos to Jonah.  The young man was going to school full time and doing well, while maintaining a job that was well above minimum wage.
Veronica was a stay at home mom, caring for her daughter and preparing her for early success in education in a near home-school situation without the need to spend the family income on daycare.  But I talked to her about the idea of Section 8 housing.  A program where they offer qualified low-income families with subsidized rent in better neighborhoods.  I simply did not understand why, given the opportunity, Jonah and Veronica stayed in this apartment compound, as I always referred to it, when potentially, they could move to the north side of San Antonio and live in a newer, nicer home in a neighborhood full of successful people.
“We’ll be fine.” Veronica continually assured me.  “This place isn’t as bad as you make it out to be, and honestly, I like the neighbors.”  We both laughed, thinking of Mrs Kravitz.
I received a call from Veronica on a Tuesday afternoon.  My last visit had been the previous Thursday and she asked if I would please stop by the next morning.  She missed me and wanted to make me breakfast.  How could I refuse?
I showed up just at seven AM on Wednesday and as usual, Veronica greeted me at the door.  She had on Jonah’s Texas A&M shirt and white cotton panties with little blue and yellow polka-dots.  When we walked in I followed her to the kitchen and she served me a cup of coffee.  When she leaned into the refrigerator for some half & half, I stared like a pervert at her ass.  “You know, those panties don’t even match that shirt.” I said.
She spun around handing me the creamer and said, “Don’t worry, they won’t be on long.”
She then walked to the table with our plates.  Breakfast was toast with melted longhorn cheese, or as we call it in San Antonio, Government cheese.
I fixed my coffee and joined her.  “How’s Jonah doing?” I asked politely.
“He wonders if your dick is bigger than his.”  I nearly choked on my cheese toast.  She told me that Jonah had talked about showing me his dick but that I never reciprocated that day down by the Medina River.
“I thought he would be freaked out if I did.” I defended my inaction.  “When I loosened my tie, he thought I was making some sort of gay come on to him.”

Veronica laughed.  As we finished our toast, she wouldn’t let the subject move elsewhere. “So, would you say you are 8 inches, 9?” 

“Do you know how big a 9 inch dick would be? I mean, I think that only happens in movies and on the Internet.” 

“Well, you are a big guy, I just assumed you had a big one.  Finish your toast.  I need to see your dick and I’m taking a picture of it for Jonah.” She ordered.

“Look,” I said, “I’m not embarrassed to show off.  I’ll dance naked if that’s what you want but I just need to tell you, my dick is maybe average at best.” 
I was suddenly doing everything in my mind to force an erection on myself.  Not unlike cold mornings or standing at a urinal, my dick was experiencing a serious case of shrinky-dink.  There is a phrase, he’s a grower, not a show’er. Well, that’s me.  

Veronica took a last sip of her coffee then stood up and once again grabbed me by the tie.  I stood and followed her to the couch where she promptly began unbuckling my belt.

“Are we really doing this?  I mean, can I just whip it out and you can take your little picture and have a laugh with Jonah?” I pleaded, obviously showing reluctance.

“Quit being a big baby and undo your slacks.  You can’t sit down until your trousers are around your ankles.”  
I dropped my pants and quickly sat down on the couch.
“That means your chonies, too, mister.”  She demanded.
By this time, thankfully I was showing signs of arousal.  I scooted my underwear down to my slacks gathered at the ankles.   My still soft but at least growing penis was laid out before Veronica for the first time with my balls on full display.  I was embarrassed by a skin tag that had grown between my thighs and I was going to do everything possible to avoid sharing that little punishment from God.
Veronica knelt down in front of me and without hesitation began to inspect my balls.  “Your balls are way bigger than Jonah’s.  Doesn’t your wife make you trim up down here more often?”
“Oh my god.  You’re killin’ me.” I whispered.  “Please don’t make any pronouncements on the penis comparison until I get a boner.  I want this to be a fair showing.”
Without hesitation or discussion, Veronica took my semi-erect dick into her mouth and suddenly, I was the benefactor of all the training she and Stephanie had gone through.  In fifteen seconds, I was completely hard and I wanted to be nowhere else on earth.  Veronica stopped, looked up at me and smiled.  “Don’t you move!”

She went back to the table and grabbed her cell phone, took two or three pictures of my dick and then took several more of her face posing next to my cock, including, two or three with it in various positions in her mouth.  “I think that will make Jonah happy.” Then she got up and said, “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

As Veronica walked back to the table to put the cell phone down I quietly whisper-yelled, “Hey!  Are you serious?”

She walked back grinning and as she dropped back to her knees she said, “I was just fucking with you.”
For the next three or four minutes, maybe more, Veronica gave me an incredible blow-job, forcing her hand between my thighs and the dreaded skin tag so she could fondle my balls, play with my taint, and even probe my ass with her finger.  Aside from occasional moaning she whispered a few things that I couldn’t make out.
At some point she pulled on my legs, pushing and prodding me to lay on the couch.  I felt really awkward laying there with my pants around my ankles, shoes on and a shirt and tie.  But I sure as hell had no intention of stopping to get undressed.  My mind was lost in the moment and as Veronica could feel me making obvious signs of climax, she pulled off.  I laid there with my eyes shut and didn’t realize she had stripped completely, tossing her shirt and panties on the ground next to the couch.  Veronica climbed on top of me and  lowered her soaked pussy onto my throbbing, ready to explode dick.
There is that feeling of the very first time you enter a new lover.  You know immediately, I think, that this is right or not.  And Veronica felt so silky smooth and wonderful.  I opened my eyes and she was smiling at me.  We kissed passionately until she broke away and said, “Play with these.” looking down at her incredible tits.
I did very little work; Veronica was on a mission.  In less than five more minutes I whispered that I was about to cum and she simply responded, “Yes.”
When I unloaded inside she kissed me again passionately, then eased herself up off of me.  She reached down to the ground and grabbed her shirt and panties. “Here.” she said, handing me the blue and yellow polka-dot bikini, “Use this.  I think Jonah will enjoy it later.”
I inspected the panties then took a long inhale and said, “I’ll enjoy them now.” with a chuckle before using them to wipe myself of our combined juices.
Veronica walked nude to the bathroom and as I swung myself up from the couch to get dressed, I admired that beautiful ass.
When she returned, dressed in shorts and the same shirt, she pushed me toward the door. “You are late, mister.  What are they going to think of you at work just rolling in all willy nilly.”  She laughed.
I stood blocking the door. “I don’t want to leave.  Can I stay here with you and Emma today? I can read to her and take you shopping if you want.”

“You are a good man, James.  Your wife snagged a winner.  I feel like I won the lottery the day you came into our lives.” She told me.

I opened the door and look toward the window of Mrs. Kravitz.  She stared with a scowl on her face, not moving one bit as I looked at her and smiled.  “I guess I gotta go.” I said.
Veronica reached up and grabbed my face, kissing me and then hugging me firmly.  Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them away saying, “I love you, James.  You know that I will always have a special place in my heart for you.”

“Hey.” I said, “Are you okay?  Are we good here? I need to know that we are good.”

Veronica sniffed and wiped more tears from her face.  “Yes, silly, we’re good. It’s all good.”
I kissed her on the forehead and said, “Kiss the baby for me.”
An hour later my co-worker was in my office with the door shut asking me why I was late and why I looked like I just had sex.  “I need details, you sick bastard.” he demanded.
“I don’t look like I just had sex.  I look like I just spent fifteen minutes locked in the men’s room washing my dick and balls and ass.” I said.
“Oh my God!” he said.  “You had sex with a man?”
“No.” I said.  “I just want to make sure I’m clean before I go home.”
That night, Sandra and I had a nice quiet evening involving dinner, several of the shows on our DVR list followed by twenty to thirty minutes of passionate lovemaking while the 10 PM newscast played on the TV in our room.  “Whatever has gotten into you, I like.” Sandra said with a giggle.
 I was able to hold off until she rode herself to completion.  As I felt her release, I came with a sense of relief and exhaustion.  “I love it when that happens.” she said, happy that we had cum together.
The following morning I called Veronica from work.  She answered the phone in what seemed like an over-cheery voice.  I didn’t say anything, knowing that caller ID made it clear who I was.  She then choked a bit, obviously having been crying.  “Veronica, is everything okay?” I pleaded.
“James, you are such a good friend to me.” She said, continuing to sob lightly.
“Was Jonah upset about…”
“No, no! Jonah is great.  Everything is okay, I promise.  I know you are busy at work, thank you for checking up on me.” Veronica cut the conversation short.
“Okay.” I said.  “If you are good, then I’m good.”
“James.  Goodbye, James.  I love you.” She hung up.
I only realized on Monday just how much lack of intuition I have, and basically, what a complete idiot I am.
After spending the weekend enjoying life with my family, I had this need to see Veronica in person just to make sure that we had not made a huge mistake, going over the line with the unexpected encounter.  I pulled into the apartment compound and I immediately noticed Veronica and Jonah’s old couch standing upright next to the community dumpster.  There was no mistaking the couch.
“Holy shit!” I thought to myself.  “Was Jonah so upset that he needed to buy a new couch to eliminate the thought of Veronica and I doing the deed there?”  But when I pulled further up to Apartment 3A, it was clear, the place was empty.  No lights were on, the car was obviously gone, and the mini blinds were completely lifted open, showing the apartment to be empty.
I sat there in my truck, staring at the apartment, confused as to what was going on.
I was startled when Mrs. Kravitz knocked on my truck window.  I lowered the window and she looked at me.  She still had the same scowl but it seemed to soften a bit when she saw the distraught look on my face.  She handed me an envelope and said nothing.
The envelope had been sealed, but it was clear that Mrs. Kravitz had opened it.  There was no effort to even steam the envelope open, it was just torn into like a water bill or some magazine renewal notice.
I took it and thanked her, assuming she would walk back to her position in the window, but she stood there, apparently waiting for me to read it.  I turned the truck off, pulled my reading glasses from a case on the console and took the letter from the envelope.  It was written in beautiful cursive on a nice piece of writing paper.
My Dearest James, 
I will never be able to repay you for the random act of kindness on a stormy day that brought you into our lives.  You have provided our family with friendship and love, kindness and encouragement, and we cannot ever thank you enough for being there when we needed you.
I could not bring myself to tell you in person about what I know you will agree is positive news.  That’s what I get for being so naughty.

Two weeks ago, my grandmother contacted us and told me that my grandfather wanted us in his life.  James, he is selling us one of his houses one street over from where my grandparents live.  My grandmother and hopefully Kathy are going to help me out with Emma.  I’m going back to school as soon as I can get back into St Mary’s.

Our morning coffee has been such an important part of my life over that last six months, I don’t know how I will make it without our conversations, and other things.  We aren’t moving far, but I’m smart enough to understand that you won’t be able to stop by on your way to work.  And of course, Jonah doesn’t mind but I’m not sure how my grandfather would feel about you visiting me all the time. James, I will never stop loving you.

Your friends and partners in crime,

Veronica, Jonah and Emma

It was hard to avoid the tears that began to slowly stream down my face.  I placed the letter back in the envelope and turned the truck on.  Mrs. Kravitz looked at me and actually seemed to offer a sympathetic smile.  She reached out and placed her hand on my forearm.  “Ay cabrón. She is just a little girl and she is married.”  
She moved her hand to mine, holding my large hand in her small palm, rubbing my wedding band with the other. “You are married.  Ay dios mio.”
She smiled at me. “Supongo que su corazón tiene espacio para los dos.”
She made the sign of the cross, said “Vaya con dios” and walked back to her apartment and the window she occupies.
I drove up Military to Highway 90 and headed west toward Castroville and the Medina River.  I called the office and said I wouldn’t be in for the day, then stopped in a convenience store and picked up a 6-pack of Shiner Bock.  I parked in that spot under the large oak tree, loosened my tie and ran my fingers through my hair a few times.  I turned on K-BUC, a classic country station out of Devine, TX.  I cracked open a beer as an old Mickey Gilly song, True Love Ways played in the background while I contemplated my mid-life crisis.
——The End – For Now——


This kind of thing never happens in real life, not to me anyway.

The very first line of The Veronica Story was my only real indication that what followed was a work of fiction.  I never really wanted to confess that it wasn’t real because I figured that if readers were anything like me, they would lose interest.  Within the first set of comments on the blog however, a reader mentioned that I had used this same line in a previous story, and that story was true.  Shit!

While Veronica, Jonah and Emma were characters created in my mind, a great deal of the fictional story is based on real people, places and emotions.  I’ve been blogging since 2007, and I think I revealed more about myself in The Veronica Story than I have the entire time I’ve blogged.
A reader in San Antonio e-mailed me to tell how adding actual locations really helped in his appreciation of the story.  The interesting thing to me was that, as I drove around the area where this story is primarily based, I could imagine everything unfolding.
There really is an “apartment compound” where, years ago I did some work for a friend to help bring several of the units up to code.  There really was an old lady who would stare out her window and scowl at me.  Some of the units were occupied by young mothers with babies, and honestly, it was a truly sad thing.  I never felt any urge to flirt with these young ladies; as bad as this sounds, I think any of the three different young girls I met would have been available if the price were right.  I have too much of a fatherly instinct to even consider it.  And this is one of the main reasons the Veronica story is purely a work of fiction.  I simply am not that guy – with a 24 year old. 
When I first contemplated writing this story, my ideal Veronica would have been at least 30 if not older but as I thought about it, none of the other elements seemed to work.  I wanted her to be married because Jonah was so important to the story, and I wanted her to have a child, but young enough to sleep in.  So in the end, I came up with an age that was old enough not to make me appear overly creepy but young enough to believe that she and Jonah would still be struggling with finances and school, etc.
To begin writing, I had to have two things.  First, I did some research on Tumblr and found several images of what Veronica would look like to me.  I won’t share the image because I feel like readers make up their own minds of what she looks like.  The other thing I needed was a voice.  At first, I imagined a rough chola voice common on San Antonio’s south and west sides.  But by chance, I met a new colleague at work and as soon as we were introduced, I knew she was Veronica.  The snappy “Don’t be a big baby” and “No hugs for you, Mister Boner” are things that I know this women would say.    Though she is nothing like Veronica aside from being Hispanic and beautiful, this woman is a professional, has a professional husband and four kids all living in a beautiful home on San Antonio’s north side.  Over the last few weeks while obsessing about this story, I found myself in conversations with this woman where I had to remind myself that she was not really Veronica.
Veronica and her mother Kathy are also based on a family I know.  My wife grew up with neighbors, a family of 4 girls, all stunningly beautiful  The oldest now is in her late 50’s, the youngest in her mid-40s.  Two of these sisters danced for years because they had the bodies and the moves, and because the money helped support drug habits.  The daughter of one of these sisters started dancing at age 19 and by 21 had a huge set of fake tits installed.  I’ve never gone to see her perform because, frankly, I have fond memories of her as a 2 year old.  The mother of this girl is who I fashioned Kathy after.  She danced on and off well into her 30’s and to be honest, I suspect she could still pull it off at 50.  The woman is just naturally beautiful and gifted with a body that remains perfect into middle age.
This story wrote itself, over and over in my head for weeks.  The issues of married men who get off on watching their wives with others is obviously a topic I am very familiar with.  What Jonah represented to me was a new generation of men with this particular kink, but are not nearly as uptight about the feelings they have about it.  They don’t associate male cum with automatically making you gay.  They recognize that a wife isn’t ruined just because another man has fucked her.   For men my age with this kink, those conflicts forced upon us by society in our youth create guilt and self shame in what we so very much find enjoyable.  I wanted to show that Jonah had none of that shame.  When, as a 15 year-old, he gladly went down on Tabitha after his uncle had just cum inside of her, he was well on his way to a life of sexuality without fear or guilt or labels.  I admire that about Jonah.  
Jonah also has the maturity to recognize that people can love a primary partner but have crushes on others without forcing a decision of one or the other.  For men my age who experience this urge to see their wife with another, there is this assumption that the woman will strictly engage in no-feelings, NSA sex.  When they find that the wife is reluctant to just fuck any random guy, there is a since of frustration.  And then, when the woman does agree to sleep with a guy, the husband is jealous to learn that she may grow attached.  As sex columnist Dan Savage says, this is varsity level sex.  Of curse, some wives can also engage in no-feelings sex, but it hasn’t been my experience.  I liked that Jonah was not threatened by Veronica’s friendship and ultimately, her feelings of love.
I made several references to songs during the story.  In fact, these were songs that came up on my playlist that happen to come up as I was thinking about the story.  I’ll never be able to hear Diamonds & Pearls without thinking of Veronica.
Logistically, writing this story was a nightmare.  I write in the mornings before work, about 45 minutes at the most.  Meanwhile, my mind was working non-stop.  I lost so many conversations because I couldn’t get them written down.  In fact, I could have written this story for another 20 chapters, but I had to end it to give my mind a rest.  Pressing the publish button on the final part was a huge relief, though sad for sure.  I now understand how professional writers can get in a zone and lock themselves away for 20 hours.  
The other problem with limited time to write was editing.  There are so many edits that I will now go back and make.  Now I know why writers have editors.
Thanks to all of you who followed this story and made comments.  I really do appreciate it.

                        —————————Afternoon Outings———————————–

Afternoon Outings is a follow-on to The Veronica Story which can be found here.

——Part One – Home——

Afternoon Outings is a follow-on to The Veronica Story which can be found here.

It wasn’t even a week before I got the call from Veronica.  I was sitting in my office with a colleague going over some work issues when she called.  James, it’s me. I melted when I heard her voice.  It is not uncommon for me to take calls when people are in my office, but obviously, this was not going to work.
Hey, I need to call you back, is that okay?  I asked.  Same number?

Yes.  Same number.  I’ll be waiting. She said and hung up the phone.

It took me forever to wrap-up the discussion in the office but eventually my colleague left and I shut my door part way so people just walking by wouldn’t feel the urge to walk in unless it was really important.
Over the course of our relationship, even though Veronica had my wife Sandra’s cell phone number and continued to send her occasional texts about Emma, I never gave her my cell number.  It sounds terrible, but I simply didn’t want to take the chance of my wife going through my phone (which she does, not so much snooping, but to look at pictures or find a number) and seeing that Veronica had sent me a text with a picture of her fabulous perky 24 year old tits.  She had my work number and frankly, that was the only time we could really talk anyway, so she never pressed for the cell number.  I also never gave her my e-mail address, even a new disposable one.  And I didn’t have hers.  I think this was also a good move.  I may have found myself writing her long love letters, and I don’t think that would have been good for either of us.
When I called her number, she immediately answered.  I’ve missed you James, I want to see you.
How have you been?  Have you guys gotten all settled in the new house?  How is Emma? I peppered her with questions never allowing her to respond.
It turned out that a previous renter had left a lot of furniture, a lot of which was an upgrade from what Veronica and Jonah had in 3A at the Apartment Compound.  Jonah was worried that the people who bailed on the rent and vacated might attempt to come back for their stuff, but the grandfather assured him that it was not likely, given what he had heard from others.  The people had moved south for work in the Eagle-Ford.
Until such a time that the could work out a mortgage to purchase the home outright – if they chose, Veronica and Jonah would pay a reasonable amount of rent and help with upkeep of the other rental properties.  Jonah especially liked this idea because he felt like he was not as beholden to the grandfather.  Certainly appreciative of the opportunity,  but he didn’t want to feel as though he would constantly have to be a yes man for fear that they would be put out on the street.  Veronica laughed at Jonah and told him that now that they were back “in the family” all was good and he did not need to worry about her grandfather.
When will you come visit? Veronica asked.
Aren’t you worried about people seeing me come over? I was a bit concerned.
Veronica told me that most of the neighbors were renters or the adult children of the homeowners and very few even knew her grandparents.  Fuck em, she said.  As long as you don’t come when my grandmother is picking up Emma, I don’t think we have to worry.

What do you have in mind?  Coffee?  Sex? I joked.

James, you know we’re going to have sex again, I mean, eventually, I’m sure.  That is if you want.  But I just need to spend some time with you.  I miss us and our conversations.  Plus, I’m hoping that we could go shopping together, just you and me.  Jonah told me you were particularly turned on by some of my antics on camera. she giggled.

Easy now.  You know I’m prone to getting boners.  Listen, let me see what I can work out.  Give me some idea of when you would be able to do this. 

We could get together Wednesday or Thursday of next week. she said.  You tell me.  

I’ll call you.  I can’t wait to see the house. I said.  I know it has only been a week, but I’ve missed you.

Me too, James.  I’ll talk to you soon.

Just north of Highway 90 on San Antonio’s west side is an area that is mostly Hispanic.  You will still find many families where the older members, the grandparents and older aunts and uncles somehow survive without any real grasp of the English language.  There are entire neighborhoods where city code does not apply; you can see the old pier and beam two room homes that have had multiple additions built around them, determined on how the family grew and could afford to build.  And on these same streets, you can see a sprinkling of properties where someone came in and either bulldozed completely the existing house to build a new home, or the foundation was leveled, new siding and a roof went on and the insides were completely remodeled to reflect energy efficiency and modern amenities.

Smart investors often watch properties, waiting for someone to die so the family can be approached and an offer n the property made.  If a lot is large enough, a duplex or quad can be built.  In the case of Veronica’s grandfather, Armando, he started with a boost from his own father.  The family has lived in the area bounded by Highway 90 on the south, 36th Street on the west, Cupples on the east and Commercial on the north for years.  The map is dotted with cousins, sometimes actual blood relatives, other times, the distinction is not so clear.
When Armando Longoria married Gloria Hernandez, Veronica’s grandmother, there was actually some scandal associated with the small gathering for the wedding held in a back yard.  It turns out that Armando’s father, John Longoria had a roving eye and it was rumored that he had actually had a brief fling with Gloria’s mother and another, not so much later, with her aunt.
For the sake of the young couple, there was no gun play or fisticuffs, but the ceremony was brief, the reception even briefer.  Throughout that area on San Antonio’s west side, you could find many of the older relatives who had chosen one side or another, sometimes neighbors who had not said a nice word in decades because of the smooth actions of Veronica’s great-grandfather so many years ago.
That hadn’t stopped Mr. Longoria from wheeling and dealing in every commodity in the Edgewood community.  He bought and sold cars, goats, chickens and alcohol.  Veronica was not sure of a particular day job, but her grandfather and told her many entertaining stories, and her grandfather only slightly sugarcoated the occasional run-in with a husband who caught him slithering out a bedroom window upon returning home early.
It was a stroke of good luck when a neighbor, one of the families that Mr. Longoria had yet to piss off, found an opportunity to move north to Chicago, and desperate for cash, sold their shack of a house for “near pocket change” as Veronica’s grandfather recounted to her.  And from this lucky start, Mr. Longoria, and later, Veronica’s grandfather Armando would start the family side-business of buying properties and renting them for income, or in some cases, selling them for a good profit.  When Mr. Longoria died at an early age, he had already amassed six properties including his own in the area, and these would all go to Armando, his only legitimate son, where he would build upon the holdings.
When I pulled onto Veronica and Jonah’s street, I was actually familiar with the neighborhood since my wife has family from the area.  I recognized a man in his 40’s riding a bicycle, no doubt one of the many local characters who does odd jobs and petty theft to keep the beer coming in. The lots are all at least double the size of those in the newer sub-divisions built on San Antonio’s north side where McMansions pop up like mushrooms.  Where the newer homes are built on clear-cut wastelands with some sod and a small tree planted in the center of each front yard, these older homes have character with plenty of oaks and large pecan trees that produce beautiful and delicious treats.  A drunk guy could spend the afternoon in a stranger’s front yard snacking on pecans, sipping from an 89 cent quart of Jax beer wrapped in a brown bag, and nobody would even call a cop, though, a lady might hose the man off and shoo him onto the next yard with a nice pecan tree.
On Veronica’s street, at least 60 percent of the properties looked as though they had been remodeled in recent years.  Government programs to help make houses more energy efficient helped a little, but mostly, it was the children or sometimes grandchildren of the original homeowners who, in lieu of taking on a mortgage for a newer home in a nice neighborhood had come in and paid to update and upgrade the old shacks.  When this neighborhood, just north of the old Kelly Field first started, most of these homes consisted of a kitchen and a living area, maybe a single bedroom.  Now, all the homes had at least one indoor restroom, bedrooms and modern things like cable TV.
Veronica’s house was certainly not the finest structure on the street, but it was easily a middle class upgrade from where she had been. The single story home looked to be at least fifty years old but had clearly been renovated to add central air, vinyl siding and newer windows.  I mention this because I had come up with a plan for appearing to be a salesman of some sort so any nosy neighbors might not get the wrong idea (or technically, exactly so they would get the wrong idea) about my visit.  When I left my office at lunch time, I grabbed a clipboard from the office supply cabinet and took several sheets of blank paper from one of the printers.  I figure, a man in slacks, button down shirt and a tie in this neighborhood is either a cop or a salesman.
I parked on the street in the sort of neutral zone between her house and a the next door neighbor, that way, anyone driving by that knew her might not immediately suspect she had a strange visitor.  I’m not sure why I was being so paranoid, but I didn’t want to create any problems for her and Jonah with the grandparents.  Like most of the other houses on the street, the front yard was surrounded by a chain link fence.  I opened the unlocked gate and walked up the sidewalk pretending to scribble notes on my clipboard.  I paused to look up at the roof for the benefit of any onlookers, then made my way to the front porch.  Like ESP, there was no need to ring the doorbell, because Veronica opened the door, and said, Get in here, you nutcase.

Hey, I’m just trying to look like I belong here.  I defended my poor acting.

You do belong here, you’re my friend. Veronica continued to laugh at my clipboard.

Veronica was wearing a very light sundress.  It was yellow flower print strapless sundress,  fashionably casual, but something you could wear to a restaurant if needed, or to an outing at the park.  Her boobs easily held up the top which caused the length of the dress t fall mid way between her knees and the area I really wanted to see again.  How do I look? she asked.
You are a vision of beauty. I said, almost a little too much like a creepy old guy trying to hit on a younger woman.
Wait until you see what I’m wearing underneath. Veronica giggled and invited me to follow her.  Let me show you my beautiful home.
We walked from room to room, her showing me the kitchen, small eat in breakfast area, and a dining room.  She had the same table from the old apartment compound, but there was a new couch in the living room with some end tables I did not recognize.  The TV was different, slightly larger than the one before.  I asked and she said her grandfather had bought this one from a guy at a bar, and that their old TV was now in the bedroom.  The house had three bedrooms, and now, Emma had her own little nursery.  The third bedroom was an office of sorts with a small desk and chair, a laptop, printer and a few books.  There was an older treadmill in the room that had been left by the previous owners.
We walked out onto the back patio which was covered by an aluminum roof.  There were a few mismatched lawn chairs and out in the yard under an huge pecan tree was a heavy duty picnic table and one of those grills people make out of old 55 gallon drums.
Veronica, this is wonderful. I said.
Yea, this really is home for us.  I grew up just on the next street over.  My grandparents house is just over there (pointing five or six houses up toward the roof of a house) and my parents house is another four or five houses down on the other side of the street.  I know these streets and I know the people, though there has been a lot of change in the last few years.  She paused and looked off into the yard.  For the better, I mean.

I love it, I said.  You have a beautiful home.  We started to walk back in the house and I asked, So what’s the plan?

Veronica stopped short in front of me and lifted the back of her sundress to reveal her bare ass.  This is the plan, my friend.  You are my camera man, and I am the model.

I quickly swatted her ass and she ran ahead laughing.  Let me grab my purse and we can go.

— Part Two – Show-Off —
Veronica and I walked down her sidewalk to my truck and she quickly climbed in with little notice from neighbors.  I drove up the street to Costroville Road, then east to Gen McMullen.  From there, we got onto Highway 90 and exited onto Zarzamora Street, south to Military Drive.  It only took us about 15 minutes to get to our first stop at a Home Depot not far from Veronica and Jonah’s old apartment.
We should park in here and practice a little bit.  She informed me, an apparent expert at this sort of game.
The first thing that concerned me was, this particular Home Depot is a working man’s store.  The guys who come here are mostly contractors and professionals, not your do it yourself variety.  My wife hates this particular store because she says it is impossible not to have some creep stare at you like a piece of meat.  This was probably why Veronica thought of it as warm-up.
She told me to just follow her at a distance and keep the camera ready.  Don’t come rescue me unless I actually call you by name. 

For the next ten minutes, Veronica paraded up and down the aisles, turning heads and causing more than a few guys to forget what the hell they were shopping for.  This was nothing more than the effect of a pretty lady wearing a nice dress.  There was no flashing needed, these men were fish and she was bait.  Completely unnoticed, I took several pictures of guys ogling her as she would pause to bend down and look at an item on a lower shelf, or reach up to grab something, thereby causing the dress to reveal just a little more thigh.  It occurred to me that on that first trip to HEB over six months ago, Veronica was giving me a show and I had no idea she knew I was admiring her every move.

When she had had enough warm-up, Veronica was being somewhat followed by a guy in his mid 30’s.  He was good looking in a rugged, construction worker sort of way, but had terrible teeth and needed a shower.  I was standing at the end of an aisle watching as the man tried to talk to Veronica in Spanish.  She smiled politely and said something I couldn’t hear. She then turned direction and immediately started walking toward me.  The man followed.  I began to walk toward her thinking I might have to intervene, but she smiled at me and as we met about half way down the aisle, she said, Oh James, there you are. and planted a big wet kiss on my lips.  The construction worker grunted something and moved along.  We held hands and quickly walked out the exit and I stared walking toward the truck, but Veronica tugged on me to turn toward some stores in Alison’s Shopping Center.  We should leave the truck over here, she told me.
As we walked across the Home Depot parking lot and toward the small strip of stores, Veronica told me to take as many pictures as I could while being discreet enough not to make a scene.  She said if anything bad happened, to simply quietly and quickly leave the store and take a long meandering path back to the truck where we could meet.  I felt like I was walking hand in hand with some sort of international spy!
We walked into Shoe Carnival, one of these discount shoe stores and we were greeted by a very cute young lesbian, clearly out and proud, with short hair, several tattoos visible on the arms and incredibly piercing green eyes that I couldn’t help noticing.  Welcome to Shoe Carnival, let me know if I can help you find anything, she said before regaining her focus on the iPhone she had laying on the counter.  We smiled politely and moved into the store where I immediately began looking for security cameras.
Veronica dropped my hand and walked toward a side wall where another employee was standing.  He was a normal looking guy, probably 30 who looked at me suspiciously but greeted Veronica as if they were old friends.  I walked away from them still looking up at the ceiling and along the walls, thinking that I could isolate an area without security coverage.
Veronica somehow ended up walking up an aisle I was standing in and said, Don’t worry about the cameras, just worry about taking pictures and watching out for any customers.  With that, she walked past me and headed for an aisle containing tall racks of ladies heels.
The store only had one or two other customers, people looking to grab a quick deal on buying one pair of shoes and getting the next pair for half price.  Our timing was actually perfect.  Even though Home Depot had been fairly busy, Shoe Carnival was basically dead.  Since it’s one of those self-help stores, there were only the two employees that I could see.  The young girl at the register and the guy Veronica seemed to know, restocking the shelves.  This isn’t the kind of place you go if you need the specific assistance of a shoe professional who can size your feet; you are basically on your own.  On the other hand, if a pretty lady walks in and needs some help, it turns out the guy stocking shelves is happy to assist.
The action began as soon as I had made it to the same aisle Veronica was in.  I lifted the camera from my pocket and began to nervously aim in her direction while occasionally looking back at the cash register and the remaining customer in the store.  He was in the men’s section, so no issue there.  Veronica had removed her flats and shocked the living shit out of me when she dropped her sundress completely on the ground.  I snapped pictures while trying to whisper to her to put her dress back on.  She posed holding up shoes and as I become more nervous, she lifted the dress from the ground and started sliding back into it.  Jesus, this isn’t your first rodeo, is it? I asked.
She giggled and when her friend came into the aisle, he was carrying one of those little stools they use to have you try on shoes.  It has a seat where your Al Bundy type sits and is connected to a slanted bench where the customer places the foot.  Veronica grabbed a pair of heels her size then sat down on a bench in the aisle.  The problem was, I was positioned where I could only see the side view.  She looked up at me and said, Get a few pictures then go around and come back up the other side of the aisle.

From where I was standing I knelt down so my pictures would be taken at the same level as Veronica was sitting.  I realized almost immediately that the shoe guy was not as excited about the flashing or the chance that he was going to stare at Veronica’s bare pussy, but clearly, this guy had a foot fetish.  No wonder he worked at Shoe Carnival.

I began taking pictures of this guy touching and rubbing Veronica’s feet and calves.  He lovingly placed a set of heels on her left foot and at the moment Veronica lifted her skirt up to reveal herself to him, he was only slightly distracted.  The man was all about the feet.  I took a hilarious picture of her scolding him,  Are you fucking serious?

I turned back, took another inspection of the store, no new customers and only one disinterested lesbian still glued to Facebook or Candy Crush at the register.  When I approached from the other side of the aisle, Veronica had her skirt pulled up around her waist. As the man continued to play with her feet, her pussy was visible literally a foot from his face.  I whispered, Get closer to her.

Shoe guy looked up at me with a sour look on his face, Do I know you? He sounded like that cranky Maitre de on Ferris Beuller’s Day Off.  I snapped several more pictures as he literally kissed Veronica’s foot and the shoe she was wearing.  Finally, he reached up and casually petted her pubic area.  Veronica took her foot and placed it in Thomas, the shoe guy’s crotch and used softly rubbed the area causing him some erotic discomfort.  His eyes closed for a moment and any thoughts he had about possibly fingering her had ceased.  Thomas’ hands returned to her calves and ankles, almost as if he was using Veronica’s leg as a masturbation device.

I looked around some more yet tried to do my assigned task and take pictures.  I would not have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.  Veronica removed the foot with the high heel shoe on it from Thomas’ crotch and used her bare foot to essentially rub him through his slacks to completion.  Thomas clearly came in his pants causing Veronica to giggle.  He took her foot into his hands and quickly smelled, licked, and fondled her for a few more seconds then got up and said, See ya, Kid.  You need to wrap this up. Then took his shoe salesmen stool and walked back toward the stock room.
We were somewhat started by the sound of the bell on the door when another couple walked into the store. The cute girl at the register made her greeting and the couple headed to the Men’s aisle.  Veronica calmly looked at me and said, Let’s have some fun.

She headed straight for the aisle where the couple were looking at shoes for the husband.  I had a bad feeling but Veronica seemed to know what she was doing.  As we walked over, she told me to try to stay where I could get pictures without being seen.

The man basically sat in the bench on the aisle as his wife picked out several boxes with shoes for him to try on.  He seemed completely disinterested in the shopping until Veronica walked past him.  I stood at the very end of the aisle end cap pretending to look at some dress shoes but with my eye on Veronica, the seated husband and the lady picking out shoes.   The wife handed the husband two boxes and ordered him to try the shoes on.  As she looked at him, I noticed him looking further down the aisle at Veronica.  The first picture I took was of this scene, showing how the wife was interested in the shoes, but the husband was clearly interested in Veronica.  Knowing myself, I knew Jonah would appreciate this detail.
Veronica looked back to be sure the wife was not paying attention and she quickly bent all the way over to a box of shoes on the very bottom shelf.  With her legs completely straight, her skirt lifted up in the back high enough to reveal the bottom of her ass.  I quietly snapped pictures of her and zoomed out quickly enough to get the couple in the same picture with Veronica’s bottom showing.  Veronica was an expert at this.  She then walked back toward the couple and as the man hardheartedly tried on the second pair of shoes, she stopped in front of his wife basically, giving the man a close view while his wife’s back was turned to Veronica.  Veronica looked at him and smiled.  I got a great shot of that, too.
The wife began henpecking the man about taking the paper filler out of the shoe before trying it on and as he fiddled with that veronica did the bend over trick again.  Her bare ass was visible and from three feet away, her bare pussy was clearly exposed to the husband who would no doubt offer to go shoe shopping with his wife anytime she insisted, this day forward. Veronica turned again and smiled at the man, his wife completely oblivious to the entire scene that had just taken place behind her back and she walked down the aisle and headed for the door.
As we walked out, I looked back and saw Thomas smile and wave.  The girl at the register looked up and asked if there wasn’t anything she could help us find, but I told her we’d have to come back another time.
When we got out into the parking lot, I couldn’t help from busting out laughing.  Veronica, laughed to.  Did you like that?

Oh my god.  You are the queen of flashers! I said.  

Okay, quick. She said.  Get the sign in the picture.  I pulled out the camera thinking I would get a picture of the Shoe Carnival sign with Veronica posing in front of it for Jonah.  Ready? 

As soon as I started to take the picture, Veronica dropped the top of her sundress to let her tits hang out.  Jesus, I said, You’re a maniac!  A truck driving by with two guys honked as she quickly lifted her dress back up and we could hear the guys hooting and cat calling.

We quickly walked through the rows of cars and made our way back to my truck parked int he Home Depot lot.  Once inside, she asked for the camera and started going through the almost 75 pictures I had taken.  Not bad, she said. but I’m sure you’ll get better at this.

So who was the guy n the store? I asked.

That’s Thomas.  I met him through Stephanie.  The guy is a real foot freak.  When he would pay for lap dances all she would do is sit in a chair across from him and use her feet to entertain him.  There are rules about touching and that sort of thing, but she would make this guy cum in his pants all the time.  One night before I started dancing, Steph introduced us and he actually propositioned me, like he wanted to pay me to come to his apartment and let him jack-off on my feet.  I never did it but I thought it was hilarious that he worked at a shoe store.  About a year ago, Jonah and I were in the store and saw him, and he gave me his card.  

So have you and Jonah done this before?  I asked.

We have once.  I called Thomas and asked him if it would be okay if we took some naughty pictures and he said he would turn off the security cameras but was not involved if we got caught.  That was not long after we saw him working here.  But we haven’t done it since.

Did you make him cum that time?

Oh no.  Thomas didn’t even get involved. We came in, Jonah took a dozen pictures or so and we left.  She told me.  When I called him to set today up, I asked him if he wanted an in-store foot show, and he was all over it.  I think it worked out for all of us, right?

I just can’t believe how you flashed that poor guy with the cranky wife. I offered.

Veronica laughed.  Yea, I suspect that lady is getting some tonight!
We drove to a Starbucks on the corner and went through the drive-thru, grabbed some coffees and headed back to Veronica’s neighborhood.
You know, something tells me my wife is getting lucky tonight, too.  I said.
—— To Be Continued —–