So, how did things end with Zelma? Well sadly. Once when I was over to her apartment I noticed a table portrait, like the kind you get at Sears, of Zelma and a much younger guy. Dark hair, a trimmed beard, and rather decent looking. I asked her about him and she said “Oh, he’s my finance’ ”. As we all know, the title finance’ is code for friend-with-benefits. A little conversation and it became apparent this guy was, indeed, in love with her. You don’t get one of those formal portraits if you are just dropping by for sex as I was. From that point on, I began to make sure he and I never met up at Zelma’s at the same time as I did not want to screw up whatever relationship she had with him. What this did do was bring on some fast quickies when he was due to visit. She’d sit in her favorite sucking chair, I’d put just the end of my hard cock in her mouth and while she nursed that puffy head, I would jerk off the exposed shaft. Just to heighten my view, I would have her cup those saggy tits and hold them up for me. Between those titties jiggling with my jerk off motion and those wrinkled lips locked around the head and her tongue action inside her mouth, I blew my nuts very quickly.
The last time I saw her, she asked me to go to a convenience store for some cigarettes and now it was my turn to scold. I hate cigarette smoking and smell and I did not want that in her bedroom or breath. She gave some limp excuse about it killing her appetite and she wanted to lose weight. She also previously had told me of some chest pains she had been having over the last few weeks and I begged her to go see a doctor. Now I really turned on the lecture but she was one of those people who did not want to hear bad news and she refused to go in case it was. There was nothing I could do to get her to go.
About 3 weeks later, I called to get together for our usual afternoon delight and the phone was disconnected. Fearing the worst, I wrote a very brief note to her PO box saying I had not heard from her and please give a call. I got a letter back from the guy in the photo saying Zelma had died from a heart attack a couple weeks ago and it was obvious from the tone of the letter the guy was grieving. He wanted to get together and share some experiences and reminisces of Zelma and how exactly did I become a friend of Zelma’s? I replied with a sympathetic letter with some bullshit over how we met through some friends and being an amateur writer, I enjoyed hearing her life experiences to put into a long term novel I was writing. Zelma and I met a few times, and I was so sorry for his loss and I understood his grief. I know, it was barely believable bullshit but I was not about to tell this guy that his elderly love had been swallowing my dick and squeezing my balls for year. It was plausible deniability as the CIA says.
I do miss Zelma.
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