Story... Call Me Pandora... Part 5  

Frnds4Play 54M/64F
2686 posts
9/14/2005 10:16 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

Story... Call Me Pandora... Part 5

I developed a routine of contacting the next person on the list, arranging a meeting, and handing them the package of pictures without too much explanation. The first three encounters took place without incident and I began to feel more comfortable.

The thing I found hardest to comprehend was the fact that these people seemed so normal. If I’d passed them on the street I’d never have guessed that they’d be capable of the antics I’d seen in the photographs. I couldn’t help glancing at them surreptitiously, looking for signs of their sensuality.

And I began looking at everyone around me with the same intent. The world burgeoned with sexual possibilities I’d never imagined before.

The fourth person I contacted was different. To begin with she wasn’t satisfied with my mumbled euphemisms.

“They’re pictures of you having sex, Denise,” I said at last.

She roared with laughter. “I’d forgotten all about those,” she said. “I can’t wait to see them.” She gave me directions to her house and we agreed on a time.

I felt very nervous as I parked in her driveway. I suspected this wouldn’t be a matter of simply handing her the envelope of photos and leaving.

“Oh yes,” she said as she answered the door, “you’ve got your mother’s eyes.” She held the door open in an obvious invitation and I walked through. “In here,” she said, directing me into the living room. “Now let’s see ‘em,” she said as we settled side by side on the sofa.

I passed her the photos. She immediately opened the envelope and pulled them out. I didn’t know where to look. My eyes focused on several shelves across the room filled with carved figurines, mostly unicorns.

“Mmmm,” she said, flipping through the photos. “Oh yes.” A moment later she sighed. “I loved your mother,” she said after several very long minutes, putting the pictures on the coffee table. “She was a very special person.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I looked at her and saw she was smiling. Our eyes met. She put her hand on my knee.

“This must have been very hard for you,” she said. “You seem really tense.”

I started crying. I hadn’t cried at all following my mom’s death and now I was gushing. I felt stupid. Denise put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me against her breasts. My grief poured out of me.

Finally I managed to pull myself together and sat up. We began to talk. She told me about the side of my mom that she’d known and I told her about mine. In many ways they were the same.

Somewhere in the middle of our conversation her husband Robert came home. Denise handed him the stack of photos and he sat in an armchair going through them as we talked. I marveled at how open they were with each other. I didn’t have any sense of furtiveness or anxiety.

“I don’t know if this will interest you at all,” Denise said as she walked me to the door, “but we’re having a party the weekend after next. There’ll be people your age too. It won’t be all old farts.” Once more I heard her full bodied laugh.

I knew what kind of party she was talking about. I felt myself blushing.

“It’s up to you,” she said, watching my face. “You might be able to return some more of those photos you’ve got.”

I waved to her as I backed my car out of the driveway. My thoughts and feelings were in a hopeless tangle. The idea of attending a party like that was very exciting. But it would never have crossed my mind a few short weeks ago. Now I was giving it serious consideration. And I wasn’t sure about how I felt about Denise. I knew I liked her but she scared me too. She seemed so wild.

I arrived home with a sense of relief. I made myself something to eat and then settled into bed with a thick novel. Needing to forget everything that had happened recently I studiously ignored the bulky chest crouching nearby.

--- To Be Continued

Comments are welcome.

Become a member to create a blog