I'm not ashamed

Dear T,

We haven't done anything that we should be ashamed of. I'm not ashamed. If you wanted to make love I would have. I know that there will be a day. I do feel a little bit guilty in that other people wouldn't understand. It was late and we were alone I was so horny that I had to do something. You were obviously wanting something as well so I don't feel bad at all.It scared the hell out of me when my mom yelled "What are you two doing down there". We had just finished and I was throwing the towel in the wash. I thought she was asleep.

I had only done that with one other guy before and we were in the shower. He didn't respond at all. He was too drunk.

When you threw me on my back what you did wasn't exactly what I wanted. I know how you feel about going all the way, and as antsy as I was I was more than happy to return the favor.

Love
F

Looking Ahead

Dear F

Life is a difficult road. I remember when I was little in Catechism they used to try and get us to see life as a road strewn with rocks. There was another road That was totally smooth. The problem with looking at life this way was that heaven was at the end of the rocky road. Non-catholic Christians believe that you can believe once and you are saved. They like to point to the parable of the workers getting paid the same at the end of the day despite the number of hours worked. I don't know if I believe that because life to me is a tempering furnace. As you learn you become more and more the person you were meant to be. Hopefully you learn to avoid the rocks.

Two people go through a process together They learn from mistakes of being with another person and use those mistakes to get a clearer and clearer vision of that special someone. When I think about the girls I knew before, about how they were different and how they were the same I can see that refinement occurring. I've been out of high school seven years and I think I've learned the qualities I like in women. I'd like to believe that I've come to the final moment and that I've found that someone in you. I'm tired of window shopping.

It makes me so sad when I get among a group of divorced people. All they want to talk about is their ex. Remember Mary Anne? It seemed she always wanted to talk about all the bad things Michael did, like she was trying to remind herself. When she went out with someone else the comparison was almost immediately there. I don't like the idea of living under someone else's shadow. I don't think people should just hang together and if something goes wrong just trash the other person. I certainly don't believe that divorce is just an excuse to get another partner: In my mind that's still polygamy.

When I think about growing old I don't want to be alone. My life with another person is an investment. I want to be able to put something into that relationship on a daily basis. I'd like to think I could sit down with my partner and plan things out. I don't want my life to be disorganized but I don't want to be so structured that all spontaneity is lost. I don't want to be a failure at fifty, and so far my life has kind of gone as planned. I don't know if I'm going to fit into the two-and-a-half kids driving an SUV earning eighty-thousand a year or not. I want my partner to stay with me. The future is scary and thirty years from now the world won't be anything like it is now.

I don't want my partner to feel useless and like a minor player. I don't know how Archie Bunker could stand Edith. She didn't have a clue about what was going on. She wasn't a part of any decisions but when she died Archie was lost. I can't see you staying at home all the time, so I suppose you'll just have to drive to work everyday. Perhaps that time a couple spends apart is a forge that helps them work things through. I see my dad not having a clue about what bills are due or what my mom does at work as someone I don't want to be. I want out son and daughter to know both of us and twenty-years from now when they bring our grandchildren to the house for a visit I want them to know us too. I want to be a part of their lives not just someone who visits once or twice a week, or however often the court might allow or require.

Love
T

A Penny

Take a penny and look at it. It has two sides. Which side is the predominant one,the head or the tail? If you flip it in the air both come up just as often. If you remove what is on the other side, Is it still a penny?

How many people go through life with just one side. They would argue that they are whole, but like the penny they can not truly exist without the other side.

Consider that the the sides of the penny are in diametric apposition. They are equal but opposite and since they are on opposite sides can never be the same or really know each other.

Flip the coin and as it spins the two cling together indistinguishable. This is the true nature of man and woman.

Alone

After a week of intense relations he returned to school. As he drove back there was a gnawing emptiness in the pit of his stomach. There would be no real friend to welcome him back. It wasn't like before at all when all he had was school and nothing at home, now he had nothing at school. A few hockey games, maybe some dorm functions but never any mail in his mailbox. There came a time when he even forgot the combination because it was always empty.

All the magazines were illusions. Girls on the stage were shadows. He didn't feel strange when they came into the crowd and pointed bard breasts his way, he only felt that they weren't his. He felt pity for them. The money was good, but most had a genuine hated for the men in the audience. They danced for the money and that was all.

He thought about living in the porno sound room. Strange moans defied the idea that nobody knew what went on behind closed doors. Nobody cared and he thought about the millions of couples having sex right at that very moment. There were so many women out there, but his mind focused on her.

In his dreams Olga no longer came. The girls of fantasy no longer came to him at his bidding. His lover had a face. and the dreams took on a sense of reality. He could smell her feel her hair and the warm caress of her touch. It was still a dream shimmering in the depth of his subconscious.

He had to be sure. What she had done wasn't enough. He wanted all of her. A moment of her time couldn't be compared to a lifetime. He thought about his home, his welcoming committee at school, about the wall of detachment that existed and knew it couldn't stand he had to tear it down in all of its finality something that hadn't happened. He had to claim her as his and only his forever.

Babysitter

There was so little time. All she wanted to do was be with him be with him despite work,despite her parents always seeming to be home. He came and took her to work in the morning and brought her home at night staying late. It wasn't enough. Many times she tried to get her sisters to go out for the evening, when young children still found their beds early.

He surprised her the day he arrived catching her still at work. Although she had suggested it only a short time ago a full beard was stirring on his face. It made him look distinguished. She didn't care if anyone else liked it for his face was too thin. She imagined his older with gray throughout his beard and temples, and saw them together.

When he produced the small box her first thought was that it wasn't small enough. The wooden oval with the word wang on it was a good joke. Everyone else was getting a pet rock. She didn't think she would be taking it out for a walk very often. It was more like a present she would keep secret one that was only for her.

They stood at the door one night watching one of the sisters go out for the evening when he gave the womb broom a test run. He threw her on her back and ran it up her thigh and down her belly. The feeling was delightful sweeping back and forth with a tantalizing softness. She countered with a dynamo hum of her own, and she had him.

It didn't matter what they did after that. She wanted to feel him against her, wanted it all. She wasn't afraid of anything, though when she thought about getting caught in the act held out for a cautious approach.

Driving and Driven

Everyone was booking out. There wasn't reason enough to drive to class every day, it to longer to find a parking spot at each school than it did to walk. The car sat in the lot for fifteen days and had to be dug out. The ice had to be chipped off the doors and windows.
It was a good thing that he was leaving early, everyone was leaving and the lot would be empty soon. A good Samaritan provided a quick jump necessary to start the engine.

There was only a little traffic. It was close to Christmas and back home the street would be filled bumper to bumper with last minute shoppers, but this far north the streets were empty. He threw the last few packed items into the trunk. It was only two-thirty. She was working until five-thirty, Would she still be at work or already home?

Beside him was a small box. It contained a small wooden oval with the word “Wang” in adhesive metallic sign letters. There was a long list of care-and-feeding instructions included. All the stores were promoting pet rocks, it wasn't exactly a pet rock though. He wondered how she would explain it if someone caught a glimpse of it in her dresser drawer.

The drive was long and as the freeway turned towards home, hurried idiots wouldn't let him change lanes. He got pushed into the exit ramp heading towards Toledo. He cursed and circled around the error costing him another fifteen minutes.

He walked in the door of his parents home and went straight to the phone. It was already six. Would she still be there? Nobody said anything and ten minutes later he was gone again. He was a man on a mission. Every minute they were apart was an eternity and the end was in sight for the driving and driven.

Homecoming

Dear T.,

I wanted to write you one last time before you left. Do you have any classes today? What time will you be leaving and when can I expect you, because I have to work until 5:30. It supposed to be nice today, so I hope the roads are in good shape for the drive.

We had a little party for the lab staff yesterday. It wasn't anything big just donuts and bagels. I didn't really expect much but we had Secret Santa and exchanged gifts.

I was curious about what you got me for Christmas. I was going to give you something wrapped in cellophane, but I couldn't figure out how to put it under the tree at your folks.

If you get home early enough can we go out to dinner. Both of my folks will be home and I would rather just be with you for a while. Maybe we can visit the jungle room or go to th buggy. I doesn't matter.

Have a nice trip and call me when you get in.

Love,

F

Blushing

Sweetheart,

I guess when you think about beards there's two kinds of people: lovers and haters. I've never really tried to grow a full beard, but you might have a good idea there. Beards keep your neck warm; that would be a definite plus up here. I suppose having a soft fuzzy beard tickling the inside of your thigh would be kind of erotic. I'd like to be the guy who tests your reactions as I work my way either down your belly or up your leg, or back and form across your womb like a broom: a womb broom. (Hey that sounds like fun) There are some people that shouldn't grow bears that's true, I don't think your dad would look good in a beard either. Grow a beard, I think you might have stumbled on to something. I wonder if people would treat me differently.

If I were laying naked next to you, I can't think of any smell worse than that of a ripe fart coming from beneath the blankets. You can't tell me that girls don't rip really nasty ones. I like the smell of your hair. I suppose there was an intelligent reason for putting that smell far away from the action scene, especially on a windy night (wheeew boy). If you get right down to it, pheromones are the remember me smell, the musk that we generate is the only real aphrodisiac: that do-me chemical. I think it was a stroke of genius, one of God's brilliant design ideas, to put the musk glands in the armpits and the utter pits: You have to be really close friends to be putting your nose there.

I suppose, when I get older, then I'll be fat and bald. I'll have a hairy chest and grow a beard; that'll make me irresistible to women. Since I'll also be rich, they'll also flock to my side and I'll give autographs. I don't know if living that dream will make me happy. I'll be surrounded by people who won't care about me. They'll just care about my money and I'll be alone.

When I lay next to you in the dark, and I feel the warm curves and recesses so close, I think about the old fat man surrounded by people who don't care. The urge to seize the night and pull down the underwear to get to the real girl underneath is pretty strong. Any other guy in my position would go for it I'm sure, if I get started I won't want to stop. The idea of getting up and suddenly running into the bathroom won't be happening either. I've thought about getting into your genes, I mean that always has to be a consideration, I don't think I'm ready for a live shot and the first time with you will be. I just ask myself if you were only allowed to have sex once during your entire life, would this be that time?

I'm glad the week is almost over. I really want to be with you. I'll be home soon.

Love

T

Crossing the Line

Dear T,

I suppose this time apart has me fantasying too. (Girls are just like boys that way) I have dreams where a faceless mystery lover starts undressing me. He smothers me with kisses and pulls me down to an unseen bed. I reach for his face, and it fades away. I usually wake up, nothing happens. I have this overwhelming feeling of guilt, like I did something wrong. I'm twenty-one and I haven't done anything to feel guilt but I was always taught not to preoccupy my mind with sex. I'm not preoccupied: I'm asleep.

I feel so comfortable when you're laying next to me. I like the feeling of your chest against my back while I listen to you breathing. I can feel everything especially that, I know when you're not really asleep. We're cramped together side-by-side on a couch, trying to get close enough so we don't have to worry about falling off, and there it is poking me in the butt or in the back. You don't move, or maybe your hand will make little circles on my belly, so I can tell what you're thinking about.

There's one thing that I never thought would make a difference but it does: smell. Everyone has their own unique smell. It's very personal. I'm not talking of the stinky sweaty, bo kind of smell; but the smell that a body has when you just got out of the shower and haven't put any deodorant on. You almost have to put your nose tight on a person's skin to smell it. I like the way you smell. How could anyone be offended by that? It's you that they're offended by not the smell. Anyways I like that scent its kind of sweet.

Do you want to know another thing that I like? Hair. I think a beard trimmed to just the right length is so sexy. I know all men shouldn't grow beards, my father or dzia-dz for example. Beards can't be too long, because they get all kinds of crap in them. They can't be too short either, too scratchy. Did you ever think of growing one?

I like body hair too. I love the idea of twirling a man's chest hair around in my fingers. I know that you don't have a lot of chest hair right now, but I think I can fertilize it. I understand that just being around you it a good stimulant for it to grow.

Love

F

Man on the Other Side

Sweetheart,

You want to know if I want to dance; the question is am I willing to pay. When a man makes love to a woman the first time it colors her feelings about sex in general. I can't see using a condom, at least not the first time. You'll feel latex or sheepskin. I want you to feel me. This sounds like gambling because it is. I don't think people should do it unless they're in it for the long run. Think of the possibilities when a couple hundred million sperm are all going after one little egg. It's more than just getting off. I can't think of anything more erotic.

Everyone has to pay for sex. I don't mean forking over the money. I can't see reducing the woman I love to being a prostitute; women who think in terms of “What's in it for me” lower themselves to that. The woman has to be willing to pay just as much as the man. I mean take the pill: The woman isn't willing to pay. I want to know that she is allowing that chance for life. I guess that's one belief that I'm pretty strong on. I want to know that I'm more than just a penis. The greatest thing I can offer a woman is my life. I only hope that that's payment enough for both.

Do I want to be a father? I suppose every man would like to have a son to carry on after him. I'm no different. I kind of like the idea of being able to prove that the gun has bullets in it. It is an awful lot of responsibility though. A woman has to be willing to carry that fetus within her for nine months. A man has to be willing to carry that child for at least eighteen years maybe more. To me the proof of one's manhood is in accepting that responsibility.

My dad wasn't out of work very often. Most of the time he worked ten hours-a-day, fifty-five hours-a week. He didn't really want to know about household things like bills and such, so mu mom ran the house. He just expected dinner to be on the table when he came home and still managed to coach Little League.

I don't know if I'd like to be like him exactly. I'm willing to work hard and keep my lifestyle clean and simple to get ahead, but I want more than just that. I'll probably be more a part of my kids lives than he was. I can't see being totally in the dark when it comes to who we owe and how much. I wouldn't want you to be an Edith Bunker and just dummy up about everything. I can't see you just staying home all the time and, and kids make one parent stay home. You can't always depend on a sitter: It's not their kid.

Love

T

Growing Up

Dear T,

Did you remember Career Day in high school? Most of the companies that came were concerned with the auto industry. There were a lot of colleges too trying to recruit people. I couldn't see myself going to school for another four years to get a profession. I also wasn't really interested in the kinds of jobs being offered by the auto companies. As part of the days activities students had to take a profile that was supposed to help them decide on a career. I really wasn't interested in the kinds of jobs being offered by the auto companies and couldn't see myself going to school for four years to gain a profession. The profile said that I should be an interior decorator or chef but I'm not really artsy fartsy. I hate when someone doesn't like my work.

I haven't really thought about a career even after graduating. I worked in the kitchen of a nursing home washing dishes. I went to work in a tool and die factory and that only lasted about six weeks. I started working in the lab a year ago. I got that job because my cousin Mary works at the pediatric clinic and my mom works for one of the doctors. I worked in records for a week and when a spot in the lab opened up I took the job. I didn't like the boss in records. Locke said he was a Christian and he seemed like he'd be better to work for.

When I think about the future it's easier to think about the things I don't want to do. I know I don't want to work in a kitchen. It's hot and people really don't appreciate the amount of work you have to do. I think I'd rather work with deaf people if I had a choice of jobs. It might take me a while to learn sign language but at least I'd be willing to try.

The problem is things are changing so fast. I can't imagine working at any job for thirty years and then not having that job. I'd like a job where people see me as a person, as a valued team member. In the lab we're so far away from the administration that nobody there even knows who is here, administration is just at the end of the hallway too. Where does a person find real lasting satisfaction?

I come from a big family. I've always wanted to be a mommy. When I think about giving birth the idea of going through the pains of labor has always been scary. You have to think about the man who you're with at a time like that. I wouldn't want to go through having a child alone. It's a scary prospect. When I think of you being there, I'm no longer afraid.

Love

F