There you were in a memory

My memorys page on Facebook had a like and response from the truck driver. "Good morning "
I responded to the old post like it was today. "Good morning "

He was a good place to stop on those dark days. He drifted in, random places. It kept me going another day.

Three weeks ago we had a iffy plan to meet up.
The earthquake hit that morning. 

I felt controlled by it

https://www.facebook.com/29092950651/posts/10160696328680652/

Having thoughts

While having lunch with a friend I brought up her sex life. Knowing she has never been married, and has an open relationship with a married man. For over 40 years I might add.

Why would I do at lunch in a public place?

I have been feeling a lack of confidence. Like I have been away from the game to too lone and I can't remember how to play.
Also, I have a body image crisis. Plus, What if I can't give as good as I get?

She opened up about it not being as frequent as when she was younger. And things do change.

She has the advantage of a long term lover. I have heard it said you are not as agile.
Something I remember from the truck drive. We could make use of every surface.

At least I am thinking about it.

Same time next year

It is so like a death.  My death, every move  is a reminder of loss. The clothing, art, garden, my music, my library, photos. All things that define my being. dust, and cinders.

we made a trip up, I took my own car as I really didn't want the long drive with the husband. Not did I want to spend the night.

I just went to collect plants from the surrounding buildings. In the high tunnel there were raspberries. I took my time reminiscing of dropping to my knees after unbuckling his belt. The truck diver's large thick cock dripping slightly to encourage me.  his soft moans growing deeper till he gasps " I need to be in you". Turning me around my skirt is lifted up to enter me. Carelessly fucking with no regard of being caught. He finishes, dizzy and sleepy he talked as though we had time to cuddle, that we were more.

The memories I cherish.

I take a quick picture with my phone, and text him " I will miss you here in my garden"

The husband is busy with his own tasks.

A truck pulls in. It is two older men. I don't at recognize them. As he hops out he comes to me and asks for a hugs. It is the fisherman. He holds me sweetly in his arms and speaks " I am so sorry for your loss". it is then that I comfort him as I have for all others like him that have lost this place. Meaning so much to so many, I suck it up, with grace and strength I say words of reassurance.
He turns to the husband and introduces himself and his friend. We chat about fishing and joke about the cost of my polls "I never tell my husband what I spend on fishing gear" he laughs and say the same of his wife. With an angst I have never heard regarding her.

Then we walk about to the river. He excitedly reminds where we sat in the swing, and fished....our first kiss. so bitter sweet. Walking past the ruins of the fireplace were we spent the night fucking....

He says goodbye, and another deep hug. He climbs in the truck , dreamily looking, starts to open the door, closes it and drives off.

They did come back later when I was gone. "Camped" the husband said. "Stayed mostly to themselves, funny bunch". He had never met them.

It's been a while

Getting a like on a post from the truck driver has been our only contact. Writing things that could possibly get him to ask if he could come out to the new house ....finely get a response and ask him for his phone number.
we haven't hooked up yep, but sexted once.
then, I got a horrific cold/ear infection. Couldn't even hear anything. Spent most of four weeks in bed coughing.
In the mean time I bought a new house, replace the floors with oak, had an enormous deck put on. The hot tub was delivered. A fireplace was put in the man cave.

After all I have been through I seem to have lost my sexual power. I feel like I had great props in the lodge. It had a darkness, secrets could be made and keep there.

A fire place, hideaways, intrigue. I had a personality that was mystery, bold, and off the cuff. men wanted to fuck me. I was happy to create an illusion.

It helped me through a very hard life. So totally hated it there. the sex got through it, gave me power, comfort in a time, sixteen years, of complete isolation from normal.

I wonder what is left of me, what needs to be passed on. I don't want to live in what once served me.