Variations in the Seasons

I wouldn’t have known anything now. Though she had a bit of a gimp as she walked, it was barely noticeable. But I found myself staring at her still shapely ass as she moved off into the kitchen, the smell of pasta cooking immediately assailing my senses.

No, Rose was no longer the sixteen year old teenage girl I had first been in love with. She wore her hair a lot shorter now, though shoulder length, and had done very little to hide the few strands of gray that had begun to highlight her dark hair. Like any woman her age, she had matured,

put on a few more pounds than she would have liked perhaps, sagged in a few more places as well, but then again, hadn’t we all? The fact was, she might have been fifty-six, but she still looked like that same young girl in my eyes as I stood there sampling a spoonful of sauce which she held up for me to taste.

“How’s that?”

“It’s good!” I said licking my lips, because it was. I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually had home cooked spaghetti. But what surprised me the most, was standing here with Rose again after all these years and feeling like hardly any time had even passed since we’d last been together.

“Why don’t you open the wine?” She told me to take off her apron and come around the counter to join me back in the living room. “Figure another half hour or so for the sauce to cook, and then we can eat,” she informed me. I poured us both a wine, and then sat down across from her in the living room.

“So…tell me what you’ve been doing all these years,” she asked. “But give me the Reader’s Digest condensed version, and I’ll do the same. No sense boring one another with trivial facts. As long as we fill in a few pieces in catching up, I think that should take us until dinner is ready. After that, what’s say we make a pact and just deal with the now, how’s that sound?”

“It sounds perfect,” I told her, and then we did just that, filling in just enough details to fit all the pieces together of our respective lives before sitting down to eat. After helping her clear away the table, though she refused my help in doing the dishes which she said she’d save for later, we ventured back out into the living room.

“Go ahead Thomas, ask me. I know you’ve been wanting to do it all evening.”

“Ask you what?” I said curiously, though there was one thing I was interested in asking her about, though I’d purposely refrained from doing so.

“Why I never got married again.”

“Probably for the same reason I won’t either,” I responded. “Too set in my ways for one thing, and not enough energy, or inclination to break someone new in,” I said, making her laugh. “But you’re younger than I am, and obviously living alone and single for a lot longer too…how come you never did?”

She slapped her leg, startling me a little. “Believe it or not Thomas, part of it had to do with this. You’d be surprised at the number of men that this turned off. Though some found it a curious “kink” too. But those I usually managed to weed out before it ever got to that point. After a while, I gave up trying to find someone else. And besides, I discovered I wasn’t in all that big of a hurry to find anyone either. No different than what you’re thinking at the moment, am I right?”

I smiled at that, nodding my head. A committed relationship with anyone else was about the furthest thing from my mind at the moment. Let alone anything else. I’d even managed to let my earlier erection wither away on the vine so to speak without giving it another thought. A brief momentary aberration that no longer had a place in my life at the moment. Or so I thought anyway.

“Do you miss it?” I now asked. “Being with someone I mean.”

“Do I miss not being with a man? Yes…I suppose I do, but I still have my battery-operated friend to keep me company when I need it. So as far as sex goes, I’m satisfied for the moment at least with things being the way they are. How about you?”

That wasn’t exactly what I had meant when I asked the question, but I didn’t make any attempt to clarify that either, then answering hers.

I missed Stella, and told her so, though I didn’t elaborate further on any sexual desires. Truth was, I didn’t have any, not counting the very brief moment driving home from the store and the quick trip down memory lane. That was, and had been the extent of my entire sex-life up until this very moment.

We chatted briefly for a while longer until it became evident she was in a bit of discomfort. “Would you mind terribly if I made myself a little more comfortable?” she asked. “I know what that sounds like,” she giggled, “but the truth is, after having this on all day, it does start to get a little sore,” she told me.

“No, go right ahead,” I responded, and then sat back watching her as she headed back down the small hallway to where her bedroom obviously was. Once again, I was taken back in time briefly, sitting there watching her head off back to her bedroom and had to smile at that. Unlike the previous time however, she soon reappeared, though I heard her coming a mile away as she was hopping as she did so.

I was surprised she was just as agile and nimble on one foot, as she had been on two, or rather one and her prosthesis. But what I wasn’t prepared for was seeing her hop, and reemerge back into the living room. She had indeed changed, taking off her artificial leg, now wearing what appeared to be a pair of cut off sweatpants,

her one good, still shapely leg now bare. But what caught my immediate eye was the bounce of her still very full breasts as she came into the room. God forgive me for thinking it, but damn that looked sexy. And I was surprised, amazed, even ashamed at myself for sitting there thinking that. It was only too obvious she had removed her bra.