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Story Name:  Miriam
Author's Alias:  The Star
Author's E-mail Address:  extar@pnn.com
When Written:  December 1996
Authors Note (max 10 lines):  I wrote this just to see if I could.
Story/Poem Description (max ten lines):  Middle-aged widower finds a soul-mate--and 
peril--in a woman literally young enough to be his daughter.

Miriam


Lonely.
I couldn't believe how lonely I was.  How alone I felt.
The only other time in my life I'd felt that way, I had let it lead me into the biggest mistake 
of my life+my first wife!  So I set my jaw, wrestled my need for people to a draw, and continued 
on.
I must confess, my heart wasn't in it.  After all, what's the use in pulling off a big deal in 
my business; or being chairman of a committee for a successful community event; if there's no one 
to share the victory?
Surrounded by natural beauty, I couldn't enjoy it, alone.
And the nights . . . .  The nights were the worst!  More than once, I finally fell into an 
alcoholic stupor, unable to find rest any other way.  My pain was real and enormous.  For my 
wife+not the first woman I'd married, but the love of my life+had left me.

A little vessel in her brain couldn't handle its designed pressure, and killed her.  One 
moment she was there, my Brenda, a warm fire at whose hearth I warmed my spirit.  The next, 
she was gone.  My anger and despair were enormous.  My grief endless.  
And my loneliness was a bottomless chasm which I didn't know how to bridge.

Although I continued to work, my heart wasn't in it.
My daughter stepped up and did what she could for me.  Her reward was that I treated her 
like dirt.  Bless her!  She still drove the three hours each way to come see me every week, and 
later every month.  Her husband-a very nice guy, really-wasn't thrilled about being left with the 
kids so much, but he understood.  Kris had always been really close to me, and could feel my hurt.  
She said she had to do whatever she could to help.

Three years after my wife's death, I was finally able to come to terms with it.  I even 
forgave God for taking her, and asked forgiveness in turn for my selfishness and lack of faith in 
His plan for me.  Kris saw the changes taking shape in me, and started hinting-strongly-that I 
needed to get back into life.  By that, she meant I needed to start dating, and find some female 
companionship besides her.  I just didn't know how somebody my age went about it.  It had been 
an awfully long time. . . .
"But Kris, there aren't any women around here as good looking as you.  Why would I 
settle for less?" I teased her.
"I know I'm the most gorgeous creature in this part of the state," she teased back-even 
though her words were true-"but Mike is getting a bit concerned about you, and about the 
amount of time I'm taking away from him and the boys."
Actually, I was more healed than I had thought.  Unconsciously, I'd been checking out the 
'available' ladies in our town, and wasn't impressed with the crop.  While we had an unusually high 
percentage of beautiful women for a small town, the good ones were all married, or had 
something seriously wrong with them, like a drug problem, or room temperature I.Q.  The most 
interesting single women in town were college girls.  WAY too young for me.
In our banter, my bright daughter brought me to a process I should have considered long 
before, if I'd been conscious of the need.  Basically, after hearing my litany of what was wrong 
with the available women in town, she asked me what I wanted in a woman.  And by teasing and 
refusing to leave it alone until I'd thought it through, she led me through the initial stages of 
solving any problem:  Define the problem and identify solutions.
She made me list, over a period of a few months, all the characteristics I felt were 
necessary in a woman I could be interested in.  The end result was fascinating.  This 'Dream 
Woman' had to have these traits and characteristics:

* While it wasn't necessary for her to be as drop dead gorgeous as Kris, she had to be 
substantially above average in looks, both face and figure.
* She had to be of superior intelligence.
* She had to have class and be a lady.
* It would be nice if she had some talent, some areas of expertise.
* She had to be fun to be around, witty, energetic, a leader, yet not 'pushy.'
* She could not be 'whiny.'
* She had to be a woman of integrity.
* Yet she had to be free of prudish hangups.
* She had to be capable of loving deeply and forever.
* She had to be committed to an exclusive relationship.

By the time we'd gotten this far, Kris was impressed that I knew what I needed so well.  
"Well, Honey, your mom was a disaster, as you know.  And Brenda was the love of my life.  
You're all I have left.  Although you're my ideal woman in terms of beauty-appearance-we'd be a 
disaster as a couple, even if you weren't my daughter and already happily married.
"I really love you for your willingness to take the time with me you have.  Even when I've 
been a total crab, I've enjoyed having you around.  And I love you more than anything."
"Thanks, Dad," Kris replied with tears in her eyes.  "I love you too, and wish I could do 
more for you.  Being with you like this is a joy for me, because I'm able to repay a bit of the love 
and care you've given me all my life.  But I know you need more.  You need your own woman, as 
I've said time and again."
"Yes, Kris," I said in a resigned tone.  She had indeed said this before.  "But how is a fifty-
something guy like me going to find a superwoman like we've described?  If such a woman exists 
in this town, she's been married for years.  Or she's way too young and would only cause more 
problems."
"Have you looked around at church, Dad?" Kris asked.
"Yes.  I have.  We have some remarkably attractive ladies+all married.  And some 
knockout high school and college girls, who are too young to even think about.  The only single 
ladies otherwise are either too militant feminist for consideration or are widows older than I am.
"That's pretty much true of the whole town.  There are some knockout ladies, but they're 
disqualified on other counts+age or marital status"
"Don't give up, Dad.  Now that we know what we need to do, we can start working on 
how to get from here to there.
"And Dad; remember what you taught me?  Don't forget to pray!"

The truth was, I didn't seriously consider finding another women at that point.  I could live 
with the loneliness.  And the things I'd said about a shortage of suitable ladies in our town were all 
true.  If one came along, wonderful.  If not, I'd survive.

2

Kris, of course, had other ideas.  If it weren't for Mike, I think she'd have moved in with 
me-including into my bed-just to ease my pain and loneliness.  She knows I consider her to be the 
ideal girl, in terms of basic package.  And we love each other a lot.
But what she really had in mind, all along, was her college roommate and best friend, 
Miriam.
She and Miriam had gone through a similar exercise.  Miriam had endured a brief but 
disastrous marriage with an ex-jock she'd met after she graduated from college.  When she finally 
kicked the bum out, she'd gone to Kris for a shoulder to cry on.  At one point in her grieving and 
healing process, Miriam had cried, "All I want is to be married to a good man who will love me!  
Why is that too much to ask?"
>From that point, Kris led her through the process, like she had me do later, of listing just 
what she wanted in a man, and what she couldn't tolerate.
Much later, Kris told me that the profile of Miriam's ideal man fit me like a $3,000 suit.  
So Kris, being Kris, decided to see what she could do as a matchmaker with her dad and her best 
friend+is that kinky or what?  I think, for Kris, it was the game as much as the idea of helping two 
people she was so very close to.

Over the next few months, when Kris talked me into visiting them, Miriam often dropped 
by sometime during my visit.  And twice, Kris brought her along when she visited me.  I treated 
her like another daughter, and respected her as Kris' closest friend, after Mike.

Kris and I had both gone to Pac-10 schools.  I was disappointed when she chose not to 
follow me to Stanford, and went instead to Washington.  But she had a great time in college, and 
completed her degree successfully, so I couldn't complain.  And of course, we'd had some fun 
over the years about the relative merits of our schools' football programs.  She'd had more fun 
than I, <darn> but it had been interesting.
So when Stanford was playing in Seattle, she insisted that I join them for the game.  
Playing the role, I wore my letter jacket.  (Yes, I can get into the letter jacket.  Just don't ask me 
to button it.)  When she and Mike swung by to pick me up, I was surprised to see Miriam in the 
coach; but it wasn't a big deal as I knew she'd gone to Washington, too, of course.
Our plan was to drive to Seattle on Friday, stay overnight, see the game Saturday, then 
stay over another night and come home on Sunday.  Mike had a nice motorhome, and we'd 
planned to use it as our motel on wheels.  The addition of Miriam complicated arrangements, but 
didn't throw a stick in the spokes.  Kris just said we'd make up the dinette into a bed for Miriam, 
I'd sleep in the bunk over the cockpit, and they would have their room in the back.

On the trip north, Miriam and I got better acquainted.  I'd known her casually, as Kris' 
friend.  But I began to appreciate why she was her best friend.  While her face wasn't that of a 
fashion model, she was more than just attractive.  And her slender but spectacular figure was set 
off by full, flowing dark brown hair which moved saucily with her like a fringe.  
She had an established career marketing music and musical instruments for a national 
company:  She had outside sales for the Pacific Northwest, and did quite well with it.  Of course, 
she was an accomplished musician, though not often a concert performer.
And I soon found that she was as wacky and witty as she'd been in college, though in a 
slightly more mature way.
I found myself drawn to this elfin girl, and was, without being aware of it, doing and 
saying anything I could think of to keep her attention.  (Kris and Mike were sitting up front, 
smirking as they saw their plans starting to work.)
We made our way to the campground just as dusk fell.  While Mike and I were outside, 
hooking up the water, power and sewer, and leveling the rig, the girls started dinner.
When we were done with the 'man's work', we each popped a beer and settled into chairs 
to watch the ladies work. 
After our meal, I was ready to crash, but the others wanted to visit a nightspot just across 
the road from the campground.  Letting myself be persuaded to go 'just for an hour or so', I went 
along.
The place, I found, wasn't just a saloon, but had a band and good sized dance floor.  It 
was also cleaner and more pleasant than I had expected from the outside.  Right after we got a 
table, and had ordered a round of drinks, Mike and Kris hit the floor.  Miriam waited until the 
next song, then when she saw that I wasn't going to ask her, asked me if I would dance with her.
"Miriam," I said with a look of panic, "I don't know how to dance like this!  If they do any 
slow dancing, I'd be delighted."
"Nonsense!" she said.  "Any idiot can do this.  You just get out there and move to the 
music.  You don't even have to have a partner."
"But," I rejoined, "I always thought the idea was to get your hands on each other, without 
getting slapped."
"That's what the slow dances are for," she laughed.  And, grabbing my hand, she yanked 
me to my feet and propelled me to the floor.
I just kind of shuffled and undulated to the beat.  I was entranced.  Miriam on a dance 
floor is a spectacle.  Guys all over the room were soon watching her, and not paying much 
attention to their own partners.  At the end of the song, Miriam just looked at my face, and 
laughed.  
"Bill, you look like you ate a bug!" she said, giggling in her enchanting way.
Snapping out of it, I took her hand and said, "No, but I wouldn't know if I had." Which set 
off more giggles.
The band went into a slow dance set then, and I took her into my arms.  This is the kind of 
dancing I know about. She moved like a professional dancer and anticipated me perfectly. 
Slender, but with marvelous breasts, Miriam seemed so light in my arms I almost couldn't tell she 
was there.  If it were not for the girl shape pressed against me, I'd have wondered what I was 
doing.
After a couple of minutes dancing like friends, she gave a little sigh, and kind of relaxed 
against me, her mouth coming to rest where my neck joins the collarbone and the rest of her just 
sort of pasted onto the front of me.
Naturally, this produced an almost instant reaction from the primary indicator of my 
gender.  I tried to pull away from her, in embarrassment, but Miriam would have none of it.  
"Don't you dare back away!" she whispered, running a hand behind my head and clutching me 
tight.  "I'd have been checking out my equipment if that hadn't happened.  Please?  Hold me?"
Of course I was more than happy to, though our dancing turned to shuffling and swaying 
to the music while my body started to learn the feel of the marvelous shape pressed against it.
When the set ended, and the band returned to hip hop, we returned to our table.  Kris later 
told me we both had sappy, dreamy expressions on our faces.  A little more conversation, a short 
spin on the floor by Mike and Kris, and we finished our drinks and left.

Getting ready for bed was 'interesting'.  On the ride north, I had suggested that maybe I 
should get a motel room, but Mike wouldn't hear of it.  "This expensive machine is supposed to 
sleep six, and there are only four of us.  With a little consideration for each other, we'll be fine."
The problem was that there was no privacy curtain between my bunk, which just swung 
down, and the dinette where Miriam was to sleep.  In the end, I took off my trousers after I was 
in bed.  Miriam, though, had no way to avoid giving me quite a nice show of her short, semi-
opaque nightie.  Spectacular!

Breakfast was preceded by another great show of  spectacular bodies-Kris' as well as 
Miriam's.  Kris decided not to dress for the day until after we'd eaten, and saw no need to change 
out of her nightie in front of her father, her husband, and her college roommate who had all seen 
her in less many times.  Miriam did change while Kris was cooking, but not until Mike and I both 
had an eyeful.
We all had a great time at the game-Stanford won for a change!-and of course, I had to 
remind everyone-often-who won the day's game, which finally led Kris to threaten to have me 
wear dinner rather than eat it.  We had rented a car to get to the game, and went out to dinner, 
followed by a short visit to the night club again.  
I can get used to dancing with Miriam!

During our ride home from Seattle, Miriam and I were again forced into a 'twosome' by 
the configuration of Mike's coach.  As we chatted, she brought up the subject of her ex-husband, 
Greg.  It seems that although they were only together for a few months, and have been divorced 
for several years, he is still obsessive about her.  Even though her social life is pretty tame and 
mostly limited to events with close friends like this weekend, he has threatened her, and even 
found out about her infrequent dates and sometimes threatened the men who date her.
In spite of a restraining order, she has been forced to install elaborate security systems in 
her apartment, and has called the police on more than one occasion when he's been watching her 
place, or even at her door.
When I asked why she didn't just move away, she replied, "Because I don't want to give 
him the satisfaction.  I grew up in that town, and I won't let him run me out!"  Then, with what I 
was coming to see as her irrepressible giggle, "Besides, it is only a little hassle for me, but it's a lot 
of hassle for him.  Think:  He's eating himself up over nothing!"
I can't help but admire her spunk, and attitude, but the situation disturbed me greatly.  This 
guy sounded dangerous to me.  And Kris and her family were at risk, too.
When we talked about work, she described what she did, and how she really enjoyed 
traveling around the northwest.  In fact, she would be in Portland most of next week, so we 
arranged that I would meet her on Saturday, and we would go out.  She'd even get me a room in 
the Red Lion, so I wouldn't face a long late night drive home.  We exchanged business cards, and 
I got her cell phone number, so we could tie up loose ends later.
By the time we arrived at my house, we had become friends in our own right, and were 
both really looking forward to the next weekend.  As I got off the motorhome, Miriam gave me a 
little kiss, and thanked me for being such good company.  "Believe me, the pleasure is mine!" I 
assured her.  Thanking Mike and Kris, I waved them out of sight, and went into my home to see 
what I'd missed while I'd been gone.

3

My house, which I'd built for Brenda, was a lovely home atop a ridge overlooking the 
west valley and coast range of Oregon.  Larger than we had really needed, we had loved the 
place, since it was a good house for entertaining and had room for overnight guests.  And the 
ground floor had space for a large office suite for me.
With Brenda's death, entertaining had come to a halt.  Other than my secretary, and a 
housekeeper who came in one day a week, I seldom saw outsiders in my home anymore.  Besides 
Kris, of course.  My work was done by phone and FAX, and visits to customers' sites.
Friends and neighbors respected my grief, and seldom came by.  And I'd withdrawn from 
most of the church and civic activities I'd been in before.
So that Sunday afternoon, I entered a large, cold, empty house.  My loneliness hit me 
hard.  After checking for messages in the office, I nuked a TV dinner, poured a beer, and dressed 
for bed.  I'd watch football on the bedroom tube, and go to sleep.
That short weekend in good company, and little bit of warmth from Miriam made my 
lonely existence harder to bear than ever.

During the week, I found myself working harder to catch up all the details on clients' 
projects.  When I caught myself doing it, I realized that I was "clearing the decks" for the coming 
weekend, when I'd see Miriam again.  I could hardly believe it.  I was acting like a high school 
kid, going on a date with a cheerleader, or something.  After all, we were just friends.  She was 
my daughter's best friend, after all.  Come off it, Bill!
At any rate, on Thursday, Miriam called to say she was at the Hilton, downtown, instead 
of the Red Lion.  And she had reserved a room for me for Saturday night, as we'd planned.  We 
agreed that I'd come on in to town when I finished my other chores on Saturday, and call or leave 
a message for her as soon as I was checked in.
Friday, I worked myself and my secretary into the ground.  Then I mowed some grass, had 
dinner, a shower and to bed.

Saturday morning I woke rested and eager.  'Bill, you're a basket case.  This is a girl, you 
idiot!  Just barely older than jail bait.' I thought. 'You're really making an ass of yourself, if you 
can't straighten yourself out.'
Didn't help.
Since Portland is only a couple of hours away, and I didn't want to arrive too early, I fixed 
myself a bacon and egg breakfast, then cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen.  Then another 
shower and a shave, pack a small bag for overnight, and away I went.  I still got there well before 
lunch.  Idiot!

When I checked into the hotel, I was surprised to find that I was already checked in, and 
prepaid.  By now I was starting to get a bit confused.  Then, in the room, I found a sheet of paper 
on the bed.  The note on it said, "Welcome.  I'm so very glad you could come.  Please knock on 
the door to your left, once you've put up your bags.  Miriam."
Glancing to my left, I saw a connecting door to the room next to mine.  So I put my bag 
on the stand, my coat in the closet, and ran a comb through my hair.
Stepping to the door, I knocked.  Miriam opened it immediately, and followed with a big 
hug.  I was really getting confused.  I couldn't tell if the signals I was getting were from Miriam, 
my libido or just wishful thinking.  I hadn't expected adjoining rooms.  And I hadn't expected 
Miriam to even be around until sometime in the late afternoon.  Instead, she seemed to have 
plotted in advance to have me next to her, and was just awaiting my arrival, whenever that might 
be.
Why?
I mean, I was flattered, but this girl is almost 25 years younger than I am.  I'm not a 
business associate or potential customer.  Why so much attention for a simple evening out with a  
friend?
Meanwhile, she was saying, "I'm so glad you came early.  I hoped you would.  Do you 
have anything you have to do today?  Or can we spend the whole day together?"
With a bemused look on my face+and I guess in my voice, I said, "Oh, I'm at your disposal 
today.  I didn't expect to see you until late afternoon, but if you're free, of course I'd like to spend 
the day with you."  
And what man wouldn't?  While she wasn't dressed in 'business clothes,' she wasn't into 
the 'college girl' look of the prior weekend, either.  Rather, she was a classy lady+relaxed and 
informal+but classy.
After a moment when we both just looked at the other, and decided we were content to be 
with each other, we simultaneously asked, "What would you like to do?", then burst into laughter.  
Or that delightful giggle, in Miriam's case.
Miriam truly didn't have any preferences.  So I said I'd really like to look at boats-or 
yachts.  Brenda had hated the water, so we'd never had a boat.  I wasn't sure I really wanted one, 
either, but thought it might be fun to look.  Miriam enjoyed water-swimming and water skiing-and 
thought looking at boats would be fun.  So we did.  Since it was a lovely Saturday in the fall, a lot 
of boat people were out on their boats.  They are really an interesting lot.  We chatted non-stop 
about boats and 'land yachts', as I call the bigger motorhomes.  About her business and mine.  And 
about what she enjoys, and what I like.  Just fun, 'get acquainted' stuff.
For the evening, I'd made a reservation at one of my favorite restaurants.  It's gone now, 
but it had an unusual atmosphere, and great food.  The owner was the son of one of my college 
classmates, so I was always treated well there.  This night was no exception, and we both had 
steak and scampi, prepared to perfection.  The food was great, the conversation sparkled, and the 
company was outstanding.  I hadn't had so much fun in years.
When we left, I asked Miriam what she wanted to do now.  She wanted to dance, so we 
made our way to her favorite nightclub.  The place was packed, but she knew the maitre-d, and 
got us a tiny table near the dance floor.
Once again, I found myself attempting modern dancing with Miriam.  I think I was the 
oldest guy in the place.  But I was having fun.  Watching Miriam dance is always fun.  Being her 
partner is even more fun.  She looked at me with a mock-concerned expression.  "Poor baby.  All 
of this bouncing must be hard on you.  Cheer up.  They play slow dances here, too."
I wasn't unhappy, but that made me more cheerful.  Sure enough, the next set was slow, 
and I once again held this marvelous woman in my arms.
This time, she just came right up against me, with both arms around my neck, leaving me 
to put both arms around her.  WOW!!!  I think I was the envy of every guy in the joint.  I know I 
wasn't interested in changing partners with anybody.  In the back of my head a tiny voice was 
saying, 'Why me?  Why is she doing this?'  But the rest of me was just enjoying the moment.
When the first song in the set ended, I turned to look at her face, and found her eyes about 
two inches from mine.  What else could I do?  I kissed her-softly, gently, without passion but with 
more than friendship+discovery, maybe?  When the music resumed, her mouth returned to its 
place below my ear, and her body was even more relaxed against mine.

We danced and talked for another couple of hours.  When we'd both had enough of the 
club, we returned, happy, to the Hilton.  Going up in the elevator, Miriam said, "I'm having such a 
good time, I really don't want this to end.  Would you join me for a nightcap?"
"Sure," I answered.  "Do you want to go to the bar?"
"No.  I have a bottle in my room.  Give me five minutes, then knock on the door?"
Things were moving awfully fast, yet I didn't know just what she was offering.  So I 
decided to just take it as it came.  This was not a passive thing.  I really enjoyed this woman, and 
really wanted to develop a relationship with her.  She was, after all, Kris' best and closest friend.  
That, in itself, was as high a recommendation as anyone could have.  She wasn't playing games 
with me.  I could be sure of that.  And I could be sure that I wouldn't play games with her+for 
Kris' sake as well as hers.  So I'd give positive responses to any signals, and hope for the best.
I spent the five minutes washing my face, hanging up my jacket and tie, and changing 
shoes for loafers.  About the time I figured five minutes were up, there was a knock on the door.  
When I opened it, Miriam gave me a big grin and giggled that she didn't want me to be late.  As if 
a minute mattered.
She'd shed the really cute cocktail dress she'd been wearing, let her hair down, and was in 
a nice dressing gown.  Opaque, but definitely not street wear.  Seating me on the sofa in her 
room, she said, "I'm having white wine.  But there's whisky if you'd prefer?"
"Wine will be great."  It was just an excuse to spend more time with her, anyway, and I 
didn't want to get blasted.
Giving me a glass, she put hers on the coffee table, and sat beside me.  I could see she had 
shed her nylons, too.  Is this a seduction, or is she just that comfortable with me?
As if reading my mind, Miriam snuggled up to me, causing my arm to go around her 
automatically.  Looking me in the eyes, she said, "Bill, I know I'm coming on to you pretty strong.  
I like you a lot.  And I think it may turn into a serious relationship. -What a crappy term: 'serious 
relationship.' This is already serious!-  I'm very attracted to you.  So at this point, the choice is 
yours.  We can drink our wine and chat a bit before you go back through that door to sleep.  Or 
you can kiss me, and we'll see where it goes from there."
Running through my mind at warpspeed was the thought that the constraints on her 
because of her relationship with Kris were equally valid on me.  She was my only child's best 
friend.  And that not only made her a lot younger than I am, but if I messed it up too bad, I might 
mess up my relationship with Kris, too.
I'm not into casual sex.  She needed to know that, because if she just wanted to get laid, I 
wasn't her guy.
"Miriam, I'm impressed and immensely flattered.  You need to know something though:  
I'm not interested in a one-night affair.  If we start something, I will want it to continue.  And I 
have trouble picturing you being really interested in an on-going thing with a guy as old as I am+
"So where does that leave us?" I asked.
Her reply, breathed into my mouth was, "Right where I hoped.  Here in each other's 
arms."  And my mouth was attacked with the most passionate kiss I'd experienced in a long time.  
Too long.  'Kris was right,' my little hind-brain said.  'You've been needing this.'  Then it all shut 
down as I concentrated on making love to this dream creature in my arms.
While my arms tightened around her, pulling her upper body to me, our tongues dueled as 
our kiss became more demanding.  Breaking off, I began to kiss her eyes, nose, forehead, while 
her hands caressed my ears, and ran through my hair.  My hands were shaping the back of her 
body, tracing the marvelous curves from shoulder to waist to hip.  Little whimpering sounds came 
from her just before she kissed me again hard, almost savagely.
Pulling back slightly, she attacked the buttons on my shirt almost in a frenzy.  "Bill, oh 
Bill!  How I want you!" she panted.  "I've wanted you for weeks."  My shirt came undone, and 
was ripped from my waistband.  As the T-shirt was pulled up, she continued, in a low, rapid 
voice, "I talked Kris into bringing me along last weekend, so we could be together.  And the 
motorhome was my idea, too."  My shirt was gone over my head and tossed into a corner.  Now 
she was working on my belt. "Kris mentioned a month or so ago that the only man she knew who 
met my criteria was you+but you were too old!"  The belt was gone and the button about to 
surrender.  "I thought about it, and decided you weren't too old as far as I was concerned!"  The 
fly was down, and she was tugging hard to get pants and shorts off of me.  "Are you too old for 
me?" she asked.
"I devoutly hope not." I answered, holding her slightly away from me by putting my hands 
on her shoulders and pushing gently.  "If we're going to do this, let's do it in comfort and style.  
There's a nice big bed, right there, instead of this cramped couch.  And I'm anxious to unwrap 
you, too.  Shall we?"  I stood, and my trousers promptly fell around my ankles and were kicked 
off, with the loafers.
When I gave her my hand, she rose gracefully, allowing her wrap to fall open. (I don't 
remember how its belt came undone or who did it.)  Underneath was just Miriam.  With a groan, I 
took her in my arms again, my hands around her waist under the gown, her arms around my neck.  
We kissed again with growing passion as I reveled in the sensation of her skin against mine.
Breaking away, she let the gown fall from her arms, then pulled the covers off the bed.  
With her elfin giggle, she plopped onto it, held out her arms and said, "Join me?"
I paused only a second, while my brain registered the sight before me.  This girl was an 
incredible picture.  Slender and molded, sleek, not voluptuous-except her breasts which are large, 
firm mounds of delight rising from her chest even when she's on her back.  Her skin is slightly 
tanned, smooth as a baby's, with a perfectly clear complexion.  Her body would not disgrace any 
men's magazine centerfold.  And her face, while not that of a fashion model, was attractive and 
displayed character.  Her use of makeup was always subtle and enhanced her look without 
seeming 'made up.'  A gorgeous, classy package, indeed!
As I scrambled beside her, into her embrace, I thought of my own appearance.  My 'body 
image' is of a slender young man with broad shoulders, but a distance runner's physique, lanky, 
not muscular.  Unfortunately, the mirror told me I was a good 20 pounds heavier than that, 
mostly in belly and butt.  The hair on my head is thinner and grayer, with the gray even invading 
the hair on my chest.  'What does this marvelous woman see in me?' that hind-brain gibbered.
Then I had no time to worry about it.  Miriam seemed to devour me!  It was as if she 
needed to kiss, touch, caress everything at once, almost in a frenzy.  My shorts were torn off, and 
my equipment examined, handled, kissed, before her tour of my body took her briefly down my 
legs and back up my chest to my face again, where she kissed me frantically.
She gave me little tugs and pushes, whimpering in her need, as I moved above her.  This 
was not going to be any artistic, protracted, gentle lovemaking.  This was NEED and HUNGER 
from both of us.  She steered the equipment to the right place, as women always do.  
Just before I entered her, I looked into her eyes.  
And saw welcome.

I found myself enveloped in a warm, moist grasp, so sensuous I gasped in pleasure. 
Miriam embraced me with her feet up around my butt, pulling me in as deeply as we could get, 
her arms around my shoulders, crushing those marvelous breasts into two firm pillows beneath my 
chest.  Kissing my face, neck, chin, ears with fast kisses, still in her frenzy, she started shaking and 
went into orgasmic convulsions.
Gasping, "Kiss me!" her mouth latched onto mine, and I kissed her deeply as her spasms 
continued.  Unable to hold out against such passion, I felt my own release start.  As I stiffened, 
and pumped my seed into her depths, she screamed out her joy and climax.

When I'd recovered my breath, I tried to pull away, to take my weight off of her.  She 
wouldn't have it.  With a little whimper, she held me to her.  Then after another couple of minutes, 
wrapped her legs around mine to keep us joined, and rolled to the side.  Miraculously, I was still 
half-erect, and able to remain in her.  (That's not often the case.  Oh, for the resilience of youth!)
After kissing me, thoroughly, but without the urgency of a few moments ago, Miriam 
smiled at me and said, "Bill, that was not just good, it was better than I had even dreamed!  I hope 
you're keeping healthy, because I'm going to be keeping you busy trying to top that."
I smiled back, and said, "Girl, you're pretty fantastic yourself.  I'm really glad you were on 
a hair-trigger, 'cause I'd been without so long, I couldn't have held out any longer."
"I'd expected that, Bill.  I thought we'd have to wait until the second time for it to be any 
good.  Boy was I surprised!  And delighted!" she said with a couple more kisses.
"Miriam, we both, obviously, needed this.  And I'm not at all concerned that 'we shouldn't 
be doing this.'  We're adults, and neither of us sleep around.  What I'm leading up to is:  Why me?  
You're much younger, very attractive, and could have most any man you want.  Why an old 
broken-down guy like me, old enough to be your dad?  NOT complaining, mind you!  But I really 
would like to know."
With that enchanting giggle, she replied, "I probably shouldn't tell you this+at least not so 
soon.  You know that exercise Kris made you do?  Where she made you list all the traits you 
wanted in a woman?"  I nodded.  "Well, she showed it to me, with a comment that it's too bad I 
wasn't older, since it seemed you wanted me; except that I'm too young for you."  I nodded again, 
understanding.
"Then a week later, she kind of dropped a comment that, except for age, you were the 
match for the list I'd made, after similar prodding and coercion from her.  Naturally, that got me 
to thinking about the age issue.  I'd always liked and admired you-as Kris' dad.  You'd always 
treated me like a real person, not a kid.  Finally I thought, 'What the heck, he's an interesting guy, 
anyway.  Let's get acquainted, and see.'  So I took every opportunity so see you, and demanded 
that Kris take me along to Seattle.
"When I forgot about age, and just interacted with you as an adult, I found that you were 
the most interesting-no, exciting-guy I've met in a long time.  Had you been closer to my age, I'd 
have jumped you weeks ago.  I just had to get my head straight.  Are you uncomfortable about 
that?"
"No, Miriam, I'm not.  I'm flattered, and awed.  I guess I was afraid that this was a 'mercy 
fuck', or something.  Although it was fantastic, I really don't want that.  So I'm happy."
This time, I kissed her, and smiled at her lovely face.  "So where do we go from here?" I 
asked.  "Can I court you?  Could you be interested in anything more than an older friend who's 
good in bed?"
Her reply was without hesitation. "Of course, silly.  I'd be hurt if you didn't.  I'm looking 
forward to spending a LOT of time with you.  In bed and out.  I'll find out everything you like and 
do it for you.  I'll find out what you don't like, and keep it away from you.  I'll see you living 
again!"
With that, I tightened my arms, pulling her against me for a long kiss of exploration and 
commitment.  After a moment, the kiss turned passionate, and Miriam rolled on top of me.  Still 
joined, she tightened her vaginal muscles around me, resulting in immediate readiness.
This time, we were able to take our time, and taste each other.  The frenzy was over, and 
we enjoyed being mated, and discovering the secrets of the other's body.  We kissed and stroked, 
and petted and loved.  Finally unable to restrain our arousal, the pace quickened, and we were 
again able to bring each other to the ecstatic release we craved.

I awoke to the smell of fresh coffee, from the brewer in the room, and the sound of the 
shower from the bath.  And I heard the sweet sound of Miriam singing in the shower+a song of 
love and joy.
In a moment the water stopped, and she stepped into the room, unselfconsciously naked, 
toweling her hair.  Seeing my eyes on her, she smiled, dropped the towel, and rushed to pour me a 
cup of coffee.
"Good morning, darling," she said, as she handed me the cup.
"Who told you I need coffee first thing in the morning?" I demanded, but with a smile at 
the corner of my mouth.
"Nobody.  I just paid attention in that motorhome.  I saw that you were a complete bear 
until Kris gave you coffee.  Then you became a pussycat.  Women notice those things.  Especially 
when they intend to pamper someone."
"Oh?  And who are you pampering today?" I grinned.
With a mock scowl, but unable to keep the corners of her mouth from twitching, Miriam 
replied, "Men!  Don't understand anything!  Today I'm the one who gets pampered."
"Hmmm," I teased.  "I thought women got pampered on their birthdays, Mother's Day, 
things like that.  The rest of the time, their function is to pamper their men."
"Shows all you know, you old fossil," she retorted with a big grin and a finger in my 
kidneys.  "I happen to be a modern woman.  We can be pampered anytime at all, without hurting 
us a bit."
"Kids these days!" I muttered, still teasing.  "Think they know it all.  Surest way to spoil a 
woman is to give her attention.  Pamper one more than a day or two a year, and first thing you 
know, they're following you around, jumping into your bed at night when you need your rest, 
fixing your favorite dinners, and all kinds of stuff."
With that, Miriam whacked me on the shoulder, and give me a big kiss.  "Yeah!  Ain't it 
great?" she said.  
Before she could climb back in bed with me, I jumped out to take care of severe bladder 
pressure.  Heading for my own room, I said, "I'll be back as soon as I clean up a bit."
Miriam stopped me with, "Darling, I moved your things into this bathroom."  With a 
Cheshire cat grin she added, "and your bag is on the stand, there."  Her face changed to an 
exaggerated pout.  "I wanted you here, so you couldn't get away."
I just looked at her in amazement.  "How long have you been up?" I asked.
"Well, I was too excited to sleep much.  I cuddled for awhile, then got up and moved you 
in.  Then I cuddled some more.  It was soooo delicious!  Finally I napped a bit, and got up for 
good about an hour ago.  Go shave and shower.  I'll be here," she waved me to the bathroom.
Taking care of my immediate problem, and then brushing my teeth, I decided I'd shave in 
the shower.  I hadn't done that for awhile, normally using my electric razor.  But a fresh blade 
shave is so much nicer for a woman . . . .
Just as I was finishing the shave, I was joined in the shower by a wood nymph.  Or a 
sprite, or elf or some other supernatural female.  How else explain that sleek figure with the 
voluptuous yet firm breasts?  How else describe the flowing black hair, the dainty ears, the slightly 
tilted eyes, or the pixie nose?  How else account for the unearthly eroticism of her body as she 
took the shampoo, and proceeded to wash my hair, then with soap and cloth, the rest of my 
middle-aged body.
When I tried to caress or fondle her, she gently took my hands away and told me to be 
patient.  
After I was bathed to her satisfaction, we dried each other with the large towels the hotel 
provides, and put on the terry bathrobes I'd found hanging in the room.  Emerging, I discovered a 
large room-service breakfast set out on the table.
I'd expected to sample some other delights in bed, then go out to breakfast.  Miriam had 
other ideas.  "Sit.  Eat," she said.  "I have a feeling you need to build up your energy after such 
marvelous exertion last night."
"Dear girl, you amaze me."  I said, sitting.  "I came here expecting a pleasant evening with 
a young friend.  And I've found instead an enchanted lover who surprises and amazes me at every 
turn.  I'm afraid I'll wake up.  This is too wonderful a dream to end."
Sitting by me at the table, Miriam smiled and said, "Who says it has to end?"
Really surprised, I answered, "How can it not?  We both have to get back to work bright 
and early in the morning.  You travel most of the time.  I travel some, but am really tied to my 
phone and FAX.  When we're not on the road, we live three hours apart.  How can it not end 
when I go home today?"
"Well, darling," she said, "why do you have to go home today?  Can't you wait until 
tomorrow morning?  So we could share another night?"
"Sure - I suppose so," I agreed.
"And as soon as I finish this trip, would you be offended if I asked to be a houseguest?"
I paused a moment to think through what I was hearing.  My hesitation didn't go 
unnoticed, and Miriam thought I wasn't thrilled with the prospect.  Seeing her face change from 
its innocent enthusiasm to concern, I quickly said, "Oh, I'd love to have you.  I'm just trying to 
visualize where this is all going."
With that, she propelled herself onto my lap and kissed me quite soundly.  Then she got up 
and required me to eat my breakfast, saying with a sly grin I was going to need my strength.

As we ate, Miriam asked what I'd like to do that day.  When my eyes involuntarily flicked 
to the bed, she grinned, "Besides that?"  Answering her own question, "I'd kind of like to go to 
church this morning, and do a little shopping this afternoon.  Would you mind?"
"Church is a great idea.  But what are you shopping for?" I asked, warily.
The sly grin was back.  "I need some country clothes, if I'm going to be your guest.  Other 
than clothes for work, everything I have is either evening wear, or suitable for my apartment.  I 
don't have anything I could wear at your place.  No jeans, for example.  Or proper shoes."
To avoid the subject of shopping, I suggested we'd best move out if we were going to 
church that morning.
So we quickly got ready to go, took a spin around 'my' room to ensure nothing was left 
there, checked out of 'my' room at the desk, and headed for the church about a mile away, where  
we agreed we'd to go.  Miriam was dressed in a suit, complete with hat and gloves.  A very classy 
package.  I was proud to be with her!
The service was well presented, and the sermon excellent.  The people were very friendly, 
and we received three invitations to lunch.  If we hadn't just had a big breakfast, we'd have 
accepted one.
On the way back to the Hilton, I suggested that Miriam would do better getting country 
clothing at the farm co-op in my town, rather than paying big city prices.  Obviously, a mere man 
like me doesn't understand anything.  She loves to shop.  And she was testing to see how much of 
it I would tolerate.
Seeing my expression, she decided not to press her luck.  She suggested instead that we 
check with the hotel.  Perhaps we could take an afternoon river cruise?  There was one available 
on a sternwheeler, so we did it.  Very peaceful and relaxing, to cruise the river and see the city 
from the water.  We pointed out favorite sights, chatted, held hands, and worked on the delightful 
bonding process.
When the afternoon trip was over, I asked where she would prefer to have dinner.  "How 
about pizza in bed?" she asked with a big grin.
"Best offer I've had all day!" I agreed.
Returning to the hotel, I called room service while Miriam was doing some cleaning up in 
the bathroom.  Yes, they'd be happy to make us a pizza.  What did we want on it?  Miriam just 
wanted three cheeses, while I wanted sausage, mushroom, olive, pepperoni and extra jack cheese.  
With our order, I asked for three bottles of Henry's and a bottle of chilled cabernet sauvignon.
Assured it was not problem, and that the pizza would be ready within a half hour, I turned 
on CNN, watching with half my attention while I considered the events of the past two weekends, 
and wondered where I would be going from here.
Although I had initiated our 'date' for this weekend, I was becoming aware that I had done 
it because Kris and Miriam had conspired to put me in a position where I would want to.  And I 
had been pretty much a passive participant this weekend, in the sense of accepting Miriam's plans.  
I needed to decide for myself what I wanted.  What would be my 'best case' result?  How could I 
get from here to there?  I made myself a note to work on it as if it were a problem for one of my 
clients.  I'd start on my own case on Monday.
Miriam came out of the bathroom scrubbed clean and with her hair back in a kind of 
ponytail.  She was wearing the hotel bathrobe and, I suspected, nothing else.  My, she was 
beautiful!
Giving me a little smile, she said, "Aren't you uncomfortable in all those clothes?  Why 
don't you freshen up, and get into a robe, too?"
Grinning I replied, "The room service waiter will be here with our pizza in about half an 
hour.  I wouldn't want to shock him by making him think we were doing lewd things in this room.  
Besides, I need someplace for my billfold to get his tip.  I'll change after dinner."
I'd pay for that.
Miriam decided to spend the time until the food was delivered in my lap.  In theory, she 
was watching the news with me.  Actually, she was seeing how turned on she could get me, and if 
she could get me undressed before our dinner arrived.
She was indeed covered by the robe and skin.  She made sure that, when she sat on me, 
she was not sitting on robe.  Then she wiggled her bare bottom over the bulge in my trousers 
regularly.  Just maintaining my interest, you understand.
Turning to kiss me, she also made sure the robe gaped open, putting her marvelous breasts 
on display.  (The nipple against my chest felt like it was boring a hole through my shirt!)  Kissing 
me wetly, arms around my neck and hands in my hair, I had no place to put my free hand but on 
her other nipple.  Moving my palm over her hard nub caused a delay in her kissing, while she 
gasped, then moaned into my mouth.  "Darling, I hope you don't know just how much you turn 
me on!" she whispered, before her mouth devoured mine again.
Grinning inwardly+I still had clothes on, after all+I put all the passion I could into the kiss, 
while continuing to caress and pull the nipple on her breast.  
In minutes, her hips were pumping, and she started her little whimpers.  She needed help.  
So I put an arm under her legs and stood up, then placed her on the edge of the bed.  Laying her 
back, I knelt between her legs, and kissed her inner thighs, quickly working my way up to her 
center.  When I licked from bottom to top, parting her lovely lips as I went, she went crazy!
"Ooooh, YES!  Like that!  There! OOOHHH!!"  She bucked so hard I was afraid she 
would hurt herself against a tooth, or my chin, so I grabbed her hips, just to hold on and ride it 
with her.  I wanted to keep with her through her climax.  
I did that, OK, but her climax didn't end, but kept building until, finally, she pushed me 
away, saying, weakly, "Oh, darling, please stop.  I can't take any more!"
Wow! I'd given pleasure to a woman before, but had never seen one go into multi-
orgasmic spasms like that!  It was a tremendous boost to my middle-aged ego to know that I 
could ring her chimes so well-and so thoroughly.
When she let go of my hair, and sort of collapsed on the bed, I kissed her briefly, and went 
to the bathroom to wash my face.  Getting a clean washcloth, I moistened it with warm water, 
then returned to her and gently cleaned her face, then wiped her legs and between them.  She 
murmured her pleasure at my ministrations, and smiled a little.  
I had just finished when the room service waiter knocked on the door.  What timing!
Giving her a hand, I helped her to her feet and steered her to the bathroom.  Then I 
opened the door and allowed the waiter to set our table for our dinner.  When he was gone, 
Miriam came prancing out into the room, full of energy as if rejuvenated.
And naked as the day she was born.

Going to the table, she poured two glasses of the wine, then took them to the bed, along 
with the bottle.
"Grab a couple slices for each of us, and the napkins, and get over here!" she commanded.
By the time I'd done that, she had a wine glass on each nightstand, and was watching me 
critically.
"How are we going to watch TV, make love, and eat pizza in bed if you're still dressed?" 
she asked, reasonably.
"Easily remedied," I replied.  "Just give me a minute to arrange dinner a little more 
conveniently, and I'll be with you."  While I was talking, I put the beer in the minuscule 
refrigerator in the room, and moved the table over near the bed.  Then I shed my clothes in record 
time, and jumped in with her.
While this was going on, Miriam had been flipping channels.  She found football, which I 
applauded, but kept going.  No pause at all on the X-rated channels.  We didn't need that+we had 
each other to look at.  Finally she found a movie which looked interesting to her.  I didn't care.
Grabbing naked girl in one hand, and the wine glass in the other, I proposed a toast.  
"Here's to a solid relationship; based on love, trust, caring, and faith.  May it last."
Miriam responded, "God grant that we will always put each other first, after only Him."
We clicked our glasses together, and sipped the excellent Oregon vintage.  While we were 
doing this, I replayed what I had just heard.  Was Miriam proposing?
Putting my glass down, and picking up the plate with pizza, I paused, looked intently at 
her.  She sat with her eyes shadowed by her long lashes.  I put the pizza back down and said, 
"Miriam, we seem to agree that we'll see a lot more of each other.  Are you looking for a long-
range relationship?  What is it you're asking for?"
That was really clumsy.  But I had to know where she was coming from.
I guess Miriam sensed I was serious.  She looked up at me, without any trace of her usual 
mocking grin, or sly mischievousness.  "Bill.  I'm a simple girl, really.  I just want whatever I can 
get.  I love you.  I want your love.  Whatever you're willing to give me, I'll accept with gratitude.
"All I ask is that you don't hurt me spitefully.  If you feel we need to break it off, please do 
it cleanly and like a gentleman+which I know you are."
Was I surprised!?  I took a moment to think about it, and be sure of my own feelings.  
"Miriam, 'love' can be a slippery word.  What do you mean when you say you 'love' me.  Does 
that mean what we've done in bed?  Or spending a little time together on a date?  Or something 
more?"
"Bill, we mentioned that Kris had coerced me into listing what I want in a man, before she 
did the same to you.  And I think I told you she showed me your list a little while back.  +I see 
her fine Irish hand in all of this.  I think she and Mike are trying to get us together.  But because 
they love us and think it might work.+ Anyway, the most important thing I told Kris is that I want 
a man who will love me.  And I asked if that wasn't too much to ask from life.
"If you will just love me, that's all I'll ask of you.  I don't need more.  In return, I offer my 
love, my loyalty, my body, my time+whatever you will take.  For as long as you want it."
Meanwhile, I still had one arm full of delightful, naked girl, while my free hand tried to 
deal with a slice of pizza.  Lots of guys would kill to take my place right now.
Finally-more than the one big bite of pizza later-Miriam turned to face me directly again.  
"Bill, please understand that I love you.  Completely.  Exclusively.  Passionately.  For life if that's 
what you want.  I want to be with you."
"Can you do that?" I asked, thinking of her job, and the amount of time she spent on the 
road.  
"You mean Carl, my "ex"?" she asked, misunderstanding my question.
"Well, no.  I was thinking about your job.  But how much of a concern is your "ex"?  
Carl?"
"I can manage the job.  I don't really need to spend much time 'at the shop'.  Carl is a 
problem, though."
"I'm not afraid of him!" I said.
"I know you aren't.  Frankly I wish you were.  He's not sane.  He's completely obsessive 
about me.  I told you a little about him.  He's an ex-SEAL.  The Navy gave him a Bad Conduct 
Discharge after he beat a prostitute within an inch of her life.  Because she'd entertained another 
customer after she was with him.
"The restraining order just makes him be careful when he watches me.  He keeps his 
distance-mostly-now.  Except when he's drunk, and then all bets are off.  When I'm on trips, he 
usually doesn't worry about me.  He knows I'm not a slut, and don't 'put out' for customers or 
people I meet on sales trips.  But when I'm at home, he knows everything I do, and everyone I 
see.  I suspect my apartment and phones are bugged.  I've had a service in, but he's better than 
most commercial services.
"He slapped me around pretty bad when we were married.  And threatened me, often.  
One thing he's said, several times, is that he'd kill any man who I let into my bed.  I believe he 
meant it."
"So he won't accept the reality that it is over between you?" I asked.
"No.  That's what I'm saying.  He's completely obsessive-irrational-about this.  He just 
won't let it go.  One guy I just dated a couple of times+all he got was a good night kiss when he 
brought me home+got beat up pretty good.  The guy says he couldn't tell who did it.  But he 
never called me again, either.  Of course, the police couldn't do anything."
"Miriam, I refuse to live in fear of a scumbag like that.  My life isn't worth it if I have to 
worry about his like.  I'm willing to take reasonable precautions.  And I thank you for letting me 
know what we're involved with.  I'll think of something.  We'll be OK."
Carefully putting my pizza on the nightstand, I reached for her.  She wasn't quite as 
careful, and we ended up with cheese in some interesting places.  No harm done.  I got to lick it 
off.
Our lovemaking that night was passionate, but not frantic.  Miriam's body seemed to flow 
under my hands.  And she gave as good as she got.
When we had spent our first passion, and were just holding each other, neither of us were 
willing to sleep.  We'd turned off the TV, and talked.
"Darling, can you imagine how happy you've made me?" Miriam asked.
"Sure I can.  I'm a pretty cheerful guy myself, right now.  In fact, I'm really amazed that a 
lovely young woman like you would want to live with someone as old and worn out as I am.  I 
sure hope you really know what that means, 'cause I don't think either of us needs any nasty 
surprises+or disappointments."
"Bill, how could you disappoint me?  You've already given me much more than I ever 
expected.  And you've given me the satisfaction of watching the saddest eyes I've ever seen come 
alive."  With a bashful smile, "I like the way you look at me, my darling.  It makes me feel warm 
and secure-loved and wanted."
That prompted a tender kiss, which I followed with, "But Miriam, what you don't realize 
is that my body is starting to wear out.  There are many physical activities I can't do any more, 
which were easy only a few years ago.  I'm taking pills every day now+and will for the rest of my 
life."
This surprised her, and she asked why, when I seem so healthy.
"It's a matter of prevention and maintenance.  I never took pills before.  But the doctors 
have convinced me that I will live a healthier, longer, more satisfying life if I take these pills daily.  
The way it was put to me:  If the chemicals can keep me healthy longer, by replacing what the 
body no longer produces, why not?  My response was, 'Why not? Indeed!'"
"I guess I understand.  I was surprised, is all," she said.
"There's at least one other 'surprise' you need to know about," I said.  "Sometimes I can't 
get it up-can't achieve or maintain an erection.  We've been lucky so far.  In fact, I'm a bit amazed 
that I've been able to do nearly as well as I have this weekend.  The last year with Brenda I had to 
use the shots."
"Shots?!" Miriam asked, not understanding at all.
"Yeah, shots.  There is a safe compound which is injected into the penile tissue, which 
results in erection.  I prefer to avoid them, but believe me, the shots are better than going 
without!"
"Without...?"
"Without sex."
"Oh.  I can see that." Miriam agreed.  "Any other skeletons in your closet?"
"Occasional insomnia.  I normally only sleep about six hours a night now.  Melatonin 
helps, but it's not a cure.  And that's all I can think of, love."
"Well good.  I'm glad you shared that with me, although I'm not concerned or frightened 
by any of it.  Now, since we're both still awake, and naked, here in this bed, do you suppose we 
can think of something really interesting to do?"
With a big grin, I turned to her as if I were going to kiss her.  But instead I latched my 
mouth onto one of her spectacular breasts.  This resulted in Miriam's head being tossed back, with 
a gasp.  Then her hands were in my hair, holding my mouth to her needy breast.  While my tongue 
massaged one nipple, my palm was working its magic on the other.
Soon, she was whimpering again, so I moved my free hand from a breast to her vagina, 
where it stroked and petted for a bit.  This didn't last long, though, for she was soon thrusting 
herself at my hand, to increase the friction.  So I parted her lips, and stroked up and down, 
spreading her wetness over the area.  I finally touched her button, and her whimpers changed to a 
groan.  She was still holding my head tightly to a breast, so I knew she was enjoying that 
attention.  But I felt she needed some penetration, and inserted one, then two fingers into her love 
canal.  Immediately, I could feel her vaginal sphincter start to clench on those fingers.  I guess that 
was what she wanted all right.  With the thumb, I started to gently touch her clit, and she went 
right over the top and kept climbing!  Her whimpers became screams, and her whole body 
vibrated, then convulsed as she screamed my name, over and over.
Have I mentioned I really enjoy turning this woman on?!!
After a few minutes, her eyes focused again, and she saw me gazing at her.  She looked 
back, then her face split into a big grin.  You know what kind.  She dove for my crotch and 
swallowed my cock+only until it was hard again.  Then she pivoted around and swung a leg over 
me so she could impale herself. 
Every time was better than the time before.  She was so hot, so tight, I had to think about 
interest rates and internal rates of return to keep from blowing my load right then.  When she 
started to slide up and down, with her back arched, and those marvelous breasts I'd just been 
sucking jutting out for my inspection, I was transfixed.  I didn't move.  I just laid there and 
watched, and felt and enjoyed.  I won't compare making love with Miriam to Brenda.  But Brenda 
is gone, and Miriam loved me!  She was marvelous!  Soon her tempo increased, and she started 
'milking' me with her sphincters.  I'd never experienced that before, but it is an incredible thing to 
feel.  As she sped up, she leaned towards me, her hands on the bed by my shoulders, her breasts 
abrading my chest with those hard, hard nipples.  Then, suddenly, she went from whimper to 
scream, and, in mid-scream, kissed me frantically.  Again I could feel her start to convulse.  First 
in the flat muscles of her shapely tummy, then her legs, then her entire body was involved.  Her 
mouth left mine as her head whipped around, and her screams again echoed in the room.
With that stimulation, I just couldn't hold back any longer, and shot load after load of 
creamy seed into her greedy belly.
Falling forward again, Miriam kissed me deeply, then collapsed on top of me.  Still joined, 
with the curviest 'comforter' I've ever had, I pulled a blanket over her and we fell asleep.
I woke a couple of times, but each time I would have moved from under her, she 
whimpered in her sleep, so I stayed in place.  Her vaginal sphincter was so tight it clung to me, 
even though I was almost limp.  The occasional twitch was enough to keep me semi-erect most of 
the night, even while asleep.  If you've never tried this, dreams are something else when you're 
plugged in!
Bladder pressure finally did me in.  I gently moved her aside and went into the bathroom.  
Once I had emptied the tank, I looked at my watch and decided I needed to get up and get 
moving anyway.  I had a moderately busy week ahead, and needed to get on with it.  And I faced 
a two-hour drive yet.  Not complaining mind you!  Just planning what had to be done.  I brushed 
my teeth and started the shower when Miriam came into the bath.  With a big grin, I offered to 
share the shower with her.  She eyed the toilet and said she'd join me in a minute.  
There was no modesty about me watching her, but watching someone pee didn't do 
anything for me when I was a kid, and it still doesn't.  Watching Miriam, naked, do anything, 
however . . . .
I stepped into the big shower stall, and in a couple of minutes, Miriam joined me, with a 
big, sloppy, 'good morning' kiss.  We were both still pretty sated after the wonderful lovemaking 
the night before, so other than a little friendly groping, our play in the shower was just that+ play.  
We were sensual, not sexual.  And we shampooed each other's hair.  That was a really neat, 
caring experience.  We'd found our mates and were caring for them.
Next a quick cup of coffee, dress, pack, and I was ready to 'get outta there.'  Miriam 
insisted I have breakfast with her+not that I took much persuading+so we did, in the coffee shop.  
"When will I see you again?" I asked over the waffles.
"I have two more days' work here, then I'm home for a week.  Could you stand it if I come 
to your place Tuesday evening?"
Grinning, I said, "Only if you can't come Monday!  Seriously, I'd be happy if you just 
move in."
"Oh, Bill.  That sounds like heaven!  I wish it were that easy.  But I have no doubt we'll 
work it out.  And we'll work out more details after Tuesday."  The rest of our conversation was 
just the drivel you'd expect from two people in love.  Good drivel, but not worth repeating.
All too soon, I was in my car heading home for another week of work, and Miriam was 
headed for the first of her appointments for the day, as she reminded her customers why her 
employer's instruments and sheet music were better than anyone else's.

Section Two

Monday I spent the whole day on the phone.  I couldn't get off of it to get any real work 
done.  On Tuesday I was really under pressure.  I had a lot of work to catch up, and I had this 
niggling idea in my head that I'd better start preparing for Miriam's 'ex'.  Finally, I couldn't stand it, 
and called the sheriff requesting an appointment.  Since we knew each other socially, and I'd 
hosted a campaign meeting for him, he granted me some time that afternoon.  In fact, he even 
drove over to our town to see me-said he needed to check on his deputies in this end of the 
county anyway.  It was very gracious of him, and I thanked him for it.
What I wanted was advice.  And an ally.  I knew that until Carl did something, the sheriff's 
hands were tied.  But I was afraid that if he did something it could be very final.  I wanted to 
prevent that if I could.
I'm familiar with many security measures.  Some are common sense, others involve  
avoiding patterns.  But I was tied to a place, most of the time.  I lived and worked at the end of a 
long driveway at the top of a dead-end county road.  I could move, but he could find me 
elsewhere, if he could find me at all.  And I didn't have any notion that I'd be hard to find.  
Besides, I didn't want to move.  I just wanted to make things so hard, he'd give up and leave us 
alone.
Miriam was the link.  I had to arrange it so he'd have to physically follow her to find her 
and me.  That would take some doing.  Miriam's boss, for example, could give her away in a 
second, without having any idea he'd done it.  So could the receptionist, or any of a dozen other 
people at her work.  Somehow, I had to arrange things so that Miriam could just 'disappear' yet be 
available by phone.  And the phone not traceable either.
As Norm, the sheriff, and I kicked ideas around, he said he could work a deal with the 
phone company to get me a Salem line.  We could get Miriam a Salem address, and use a Salem 
phone number.  Just tell everybody she got tired of the crap from Carl, and the extra driving, and 
moved to Salem.  Her paychecks could be deposited directly into her account, which she would 
move to a Salem branch of her bank. 
That would make her hard to find, assuming Carl had no link to me.  Would he be likely to 
come after Kris?  Hard to say.  Probably not, since that would tip us off, and would give the law a 
reason to come after him..
At one point, Norm asked me if this woman was worth all of this.  "Seriously, Bill, don't 
you think you could find a safer girl than this one?"
"Not likely, Norm," I replied.  He dropped it.  "A question I had for you:  I'd like to start 
carrying a weapon again, at least in the car.  Can I get concealed weapons permits for more than 
one weapon?  That is, a permit for me, without specifying a particular weapon?"
"Sure.  We do that all the time.  You'll have to come to the courthouse, though."
We batted around a few more ideas, including installing an alarm system tied in to his 
substation in town, then Norm went back to check on his deputies, with my thanks and gratitude.
Next I called the security company Norm had recommended, and made an appointment for 
someone to see me the following day.
Just as I was making my list of tasks for the next day, Miriam drove in.

2

Bouncing out of her car and over to give me a big hug, she kissed me wetly, and said, "Hi, 
lover.  What's for dinner?"
I lost it.  When I stopped laughing, I said, "What do you mean, what's for dinner, woman?  
What do you think I keep you around for?  Get to cookin'!" with a faked smack on her butt.
"Insensitive brute!" she said, falling into the game and faking an accent.  "I've been out 
slaving in the hot sun in the fields all day, while all you've done is tend that still.  And you want 
me to fix dinner too?"
Happy.  Together.  This is how it's supposed to be.
I grabbed her bags, and carried them into my room.  Although Miriam had been to the 
house a couple of times with Kris, she'd never seen that room.  To my relief, she liked it.
There was plenty of space.  I pointed to the walk-in closet which had been Brenda's.  
"That's yours, love.  And if you need more drawer space, you can use some of the dresser there," 
I said, putting her bags in the closet.  I wanted her to feel 'at home' from the start.  I felt, and she 
confirmed, that she had moved in as of that moment, even though it would be a few weeks before 
we arranged to move things from her apartment.
In the kitchen, I quickly laid out the 'fixin's' for dinner.  I'd thought small steaks and fresh 
salad, with baked potato would do.  Low fat, high in protein and carbohydrate.  It's what you put 
on the salad and potato that add fat and calories.
Miriam kicked off her shoes, and tossed her jacket over a dinette chair.  "I'm not normally 
this messy," she declared, "but I want to be with you more than I want to put things away."  
Looking appreciatively around the light and spacious kitchen, she added, "A girl can get real 
spoiled real fast in a place like this.  And such a handsome cook, too!  I don't know how I'll 
handle such prosperity."
"You'll handle it often, I hope," I joked back at her.  My goodness, I was glad to see her-
to have her here!
In minutes, the potatoes were in the oven, the salad prepared and in the refrigerator, and 
the charcoal was lighted.  Selecting a bottle of a good local white wine, I poured two glasses.
"Here's welcome home.  May you find love, joy and peace here."  Miriam beamed as she 
touched her glass to mine, then sipped.
Obviously tired, she was too keyed up to be able to just relax.  After a few minutes, she 
got up and announced she was going to put her things away.  Fifteen minutes later, she returned 
in casual clothing with her face scrubbed free of makeup and her hair in a ponytail.  Seeing the 
look of appreciation on my face, she stopped and struck a pose in the kitchen door.  It was a 
different look than that of the sophisticated business chick she had been when she arrived, but I 
found her just as lovely without the makeup and tailored clothing.
"We have another 20 minutes or so before I can do anything more about dinner.  Would 
you like me to give you the $3 tour, or would you rather just rest?"
"The tour, by all means!" she said.  "I've only been in the living room and Kris's room 
before, and I'm curious, naturally, about the rest.  Show me.  Show me!"  I'd forgotten about her 
incredible energy level.  Can I keep up with this girl?  This woman?
To my great satisfaction, she was delighted with the place.  It's bigger than she's used to, 
but not overwhelming.  And she didn't seem to be looking for things she could change, but rather 
just getting acquainted with her new home and what it contained.  
She was impressed with my office suite, and asked if there would be room for a desk for 
her.  I hadn't really thought that through, but we'll surely make room for her to have her own 
work space.  I suspect I'll convert a guest room for her.
In the kitchen again, Miriam found a comfortable seat while I put the steaks on the fire, 
and refilled our wine glasses.
[Maybe you're wondering why we weren't already in bed, or at least 'making out' all of this 
time.  Remember:  Neither of us are teenagers.  We were constantly touching each other.  Our 
attention was focused on the other.  We'd get to bed.  And we knew it.]
After a comfortable pause, where neither of us felt a need to speak, but rather just enjoyed 
the other's presence, Miriam said, "I feel I'm 'letting down the side' somehow, making you do all 
the work fixing dinner.  But you can't believe how good it feels to come here, after the stress of a 
trip, and have you here.  I'm more relaxed than I think I've been in a year.  Normally I come home, 
cautiously, to a cold, empty apartment.  Here I'm not worried about my safety, and I'm not 
returning alone, to a lonely place."
I kissed her, went to turn the steaks, and while checking the potatoes, said, "I'm glad you 
feel that way.  I'm going to do all I can to keep this place a haven for you.  But you know it isn't 
just a one-way street.  I'm really blessed.  Otherwise, I'd be nuking a TV dinner, and watching 
hockey on satellite TV, then going to a lonely bed in this big house.  Having you here is, literally, 
an answer to prayer."
"You know, Bill+in spite of the fact that I set out to snare you-if I could+I still have to 
pinch myself to convince myself I'm really here.  And that you really love me.  I'm so much 
younger.  Why me, instead of a woman who has your level of experience and accomplishment?"
"It's no secret, dear.  One of the important criteria I listed was that my woman had to be 
physically attractive.  Not spectacular, necessarily+not a 'trophy wife'+but substantially above 
average.  The reason is that I'm stimulated visually.  And I need a woman who turns me on, 
because sex is such an important part of a relationship.
"The other stuff, intelligence, ability, and so on is still vital, but I felt sexual attraction was 
a key.
"There aren't all that many women my age who have maintained their appearance well 
enough to excite me.  And those who have are either happily married or are tramps."
At that point I broke off to see if the steaks were done, as they were.  So we set the food 
on the table, and dug in.  When we'd beat down the dogs of hunger a bit [don't you just hate those 
overblown metaphors?], we returned to the subject.
"Bill, don't I run a high risk of turning out to be immature, childish even, in your eyes after 
you've lived with me awhile?  Or even worse, do you expect me to think like a middle-aged 
woman?"
"That's a risk we're both taking, love.  I just don't know.  I do know we'll have to have 
extraordinary patience and tolerance to make this succeed.  On the other hand, we mustn't 
discount the hand of God.  You are what I prayed for.  Since he answered my prayers with you, I 
must assume that you are the woman God intended for me.  And from a comment or two Kris has 
let slip, the same applies to you-true?"
"Yes, I suppose it is true," she said.  "I set out to get you only after I'd really studied the 
list Kris conned me into generating+and she had said you're the only man she knew who met my 
criterea.  That got me thinking about you, which got me interested in you, which got me turned 
on just thinking about you, and so on.  And prayer was definitely a part of it."
"Love, it seems to me that our concerns about each other are mirror images.  Let's 
promise, right here, between ourselves, that either of us can remind the other that we're needing 
some help in any area.  If we can do that, I think we're sensitive enough to be able to meet the 
other's needs of the moment?"
"Sure, Bill," Miriam agreed with a grin, "I can do that.  I'm a woman.  But can you?"
"With the help of God and a good woman, I can!" I replied.
That was enough of the 'deep' stuff for the evening.  Offered dessert, Miriam declined.  
"What I'd really like, darling, is to try out that hot tub I saw outside the bedroom.  Is it ready to 
go?  Or do you need to set it up?"
"Your wish is my command, love.  It's ready to go as soon as you're ready to get into it.  
Do you want pure relaxation, or do you want company?"
The delightful giggle again:  "Of course I want company.  Would m'lord do me the honor 
of accompanying me to the bath?"  Taking her hand, I helped her to her feet, and led the way to 
our room where we shed clothes and I gathered two large towels before opening the doors to the 
deck and the tub.  
Removing the cover, I checked the water temperature by hand.  It seemed just right to 
me+less than boiling, more than a bath.  Turning on the jet pumps, I offered my hand to Miriam, 
to help her step in.  Then I froze.  She was flat-out gorgeous, in the light of the half-moon and the 
lamps from the bedroom.  Her giggle-my reaction was noticed and appreciated-broke the spell, 
and I helped her in.  
Oops!  Seems not everyone likes water as hot as I do.  With comments that she is neither 
Japanese nor lobster, she eased herself into the water inch by slow inch.  It was fun to watch, even 
knowing that she was uncomfortable.  My tub contains a sort of contoured couch, as well as 
several seats, and the usual assortment of bubbling water jets.  I tried to steer Miriam to the 
couch, knowing that she was tired, and thinking this would be the most relaxing to her.
"Bill, if you don't take me in your lap, and hold me and cuddle me and soothe me, right 
now, I'll scream!"
Well, if this isn't every boy's wet dream, I don't know what is!  With arms wide, I invited 
her onto my lap, where she came like she fit.  We were sitting with just our shoulders out of the 
water, her legs stretched to my right, my left arm around her back and waist, her right arm around 
my neck.  Once she was settled, I got a very wet kiss, and a pair of hard nipples pressed into my 
chest.
Then she broke the kiss, so we both could breathe, and let me get a hand on her breast.  
Of course, she had to move a bit, to get us both comfortable.  Of course she did.  And, of course, 
her bare bottom on my bare lap was cause for a gallant response.
Feeling my erection, she squealed in delight, reached between her legs to grasp the 
intruder, and made sure it intruded where it could do some good!
It had only been two days, but she was hotter and tighter than I remembered.  And, 
though I had built the house years before, and lived in it ever since, I felt I'd come home, when I 
was joined with Miriam.
"Oh, my love, what you do to me!" I panted.
She gave me a smirk, and a little giggle, proud of her ability to turn me on.  
I couldn't let her think she was in control.  So I flexed my crotch muscles, causing 
additional penetration.  Her eyes snapped shut as she gasped.
"Darling, you give as good as you get, believe me!" she panted.
I kissed her, my tongue trying to penetrate her mouth as deeply as my cock had her 
vagina.  When she went limp in my arms, I broke the kiss, and asked, quietly, if she'd had enough 
of the tub, and was ready for bed.
"Absolutely.  Except that I think I'm going to need you to carry me.  I've come twice 
already!"
"No problem!" I said, standing with her in my arms-unfortunately coming unplugged in the 
process.  I carried her out of the tub and over to the sliding doors, where she opened one.  
Proceeding inside, I gently deposited her on the bed and assured her I'd be right back.  
I covered the pool, shut off the pumps and lights and got back into the bedroom in record 
time, to discover that she had turned down the bed and was in it, covered to her chin in my down 
comforter.
"Cold, love?" I asked.  It wasn't as warm as the hot tub, certainly.  I normally like to cool 
down fast when I've been in the tub, but maybe she felt chilled.
"No, I'm just waiting for my lover.  I don't want to expose myself to any strange man who 
might come along."
That was all I needed.  I flipped the cover off her, then gazed rapturously at her fantastic 
body.  Naturally, I was hard as a rod.  Eventually, Miriam got tired of my just looking, and sat up 
to grab that rod and pull it down to where it could do something useful.  Feeling myself sinking 
into her heat and softness, I couldn't help but pity the man I was a mere week ago.  Then my spirit 
soared!  This woman had committed herself to me for as long as I would have her!  I would 
experience this whenever I wanted.  
Or she wanted.
Thank you, Lord!

3

In the morning, I awoke feeling 'watched'.  Then I remembered.  
Miriam was here!
Opening my eyes, I found her propped up on her pillows, and an elbow, gazing at me with 
a sappy expression on her face.  
"Good morning, darling," she said, when she saw my eyes open.
"Morning, love," I mumbled, but with a smile.  (I'm NOT a 'morning person'!)  Then I 
staggered into the bathroom, and having emptied the tank, remembered I wasn't alone, and 
brushed my teeth.
Stumbling back into bed, I smiled again+Miriam hadn't moved, as far as I could tell+and 
asked what her schedule was.  With a BIG grin, (she is, God help me! a morning person) she 
asked, "Do you mean my menstrual cycle, my work requirements, or my plan for today?"
"Don't be a wise ass.  Nobody likes a wise ass in skirts!" I grumbled, but with a smile.  
"I'm most interested in what you need to do today+and the rest of the week, I guess."
"I told my boss I was taking today off.  I wanted to find out what and how much 'moving 
in' you wanted me to do, and plan how to go about it.  Then I thought I'd organize my life a bit.  
Tomorrow, I need to tell my boss where I am and how to reach me."
"Great!" I affirmed.  "I have about three hours I have to get in today, but it will keep for a 
bit.  How can I help?"
"Bill, this has all been really fast. Do you really want me to move in with you?  That wasn't 
just something generated by the passion of the moment?"
"Miriam.  Put your mind at rest.  I really want you to move in!  The sooner the better. 
OK?"
"Darling, Bill, thank you!" she said, and planted a kiss full on my mouth.  "That does 
remove some confusion, doesn't it?
"About moving:  Should I just call a moving company and have everything packed and 
delivered here?"
Without hesitation, I said, "Absolutely not!"  THEN I noticed the effect this outburst had 
on Miriam.
"Love, I'm not having second thoughts!  But I want to do the best I can to avoid problems 
from your ex.  I don't think Carl knows about me.  I'd like to keep it that way.  So what I think we 
should do is move your things to a storage site in Salem about a month from now.  Meanwhile, is 
there any reason you need to go back to your apartment right away?"
"Sure is.  I need my clothes, and need to water the plants.  I need to check phone 
messages and check in with my boss.  I thought I'd do those things tomorrow.  Why?"

"That should be OK.  I have some security concerns and ideas.  We'll go into detail later, 
but your plan for tomorrow should be all right.  If anyone asks why you're taking more clothes, 
just say you're going on an extended swing through your territory, and need clothes.
"Don't give your boss, or anybody, this phone number, address, or even my name, OK?  
We don't want anybody to link you with me for as long as possible.
"Do you have any friends, other than Kris, who could water the plants, and so on for you?  
Kris is a link to me.  Not that that is so important, except that it's a link to where you will be, so 
we need someone else who's discreet and reliable."
"Mary, in the apartment next door is nice, and would look after things for me."
"Great!" I said.  "Now let's talk about your job.  You'll tell them you're moving to Salem.  
When they ask why, you can hint about a boyfriend, but tell them that it's more central to your 
territory.  As soon as you have a new phone number, you'll give it to them.  Meanwhile, you'll 
check the machine in your apartment at least daily for messages.
"Does all this, so far, make sense?"
"Yes, Darling.  And even if it didn't, I'll do whatever you say."
"Marvelous.  But it's better if you understand and agree with the reasoning."
"Yes, Darling.  I think I do," she said.
"OK.  Here's what I plan to do.  We'll put most of your things in storage in Salem.  We'll 
get you a mailing address at one of those private mail box places.  We'll have to arrange for 
somebody to pick up that mail regularly, but that shouldn't be a problem.  Have your pay 
deposited directly to your bank account.  There's no need to transfer your account to any other 
bank or branch, so that's not a problem.
"What we're trying to do here is create as many 'dead ends' as possible.  A determined 
investigator could get through all of this.  But I'm hoping an amateur can't.  So we'll 'move' you to 
Salem, as far as the world is concerned.  But Salem will be a dead end.  Your furniture and things 
will disappear there.  Your address will be there, but a dead end.  We'll get you a Salem phone 
line, into here.  But the sheriff assures me he can get your address and number completely buried, 
so no one can get to them.  If your boss or a customer calls you, all they will be able to find out is 
that it is a Salem number.  They'll never be able to connect the number to an address.  Of course, 
Carl, your ex, is the real target of all this.
"So go ahead.  Get whatever you need tomorrow.  But count on buying everything else 
for at least the short term.  Set your answering machine so that you can access it remotely.  Give 
your neighbor a key.  And say goodbye to the place."
"Wow!  You have been thinking about this, haven't you?" she said, impressed.
"Of course I have.  Now that I've found you, I'm not about to lose you to some obsessive 
maniac.  I want to look forward to spending the next twenty or thirty years+however long I'm 
given+with my cock buried in your cunt!  And I want to be looking at you, not over my shoulder, 
while I'm doing it."
Laughing, Miriam agreed.

My shower isn't as big as the one in the hotel.  But we found that two could use it at the 
same time if they wanted to.  We wanted to.  Fun.

While I got some essential work out of the way, Miriam called Norm, the sheriff, to enlist 
his help in getting a completely unlisted Salem phone line installed at my house.  It won't be 
cheap, but well worth its cost.  Then she called her landlord and gave notice for six weeks in the 
future.  And tomorrow the private security guy will call on me here.
Miriam spent the rest of the morning looking around the house; opening cupboards and 
closets, checking supplies and groceries, making notes about silver and china for entertaining, and 
all the other things a woman must do when taking over a new house.
After a light lunch, I suggested we go to Salem for a quick shopping trip.  I think I 
goofed.  I meant to go to Costco to stock up on food and printer paper.  Miriam heard 'shopping' 
and envisioned Meier & Frank, Nordstrom's, Bullocks, I. Magnin, and so forth.  In the end we 
compromised.  We went to the farm co-op store in Dallas and bought 'country' clothes for 
Miriam.  My, does she make a fine country girl!  Half a dozen shirts, three dresses, 4 pair of jeans 
(size 6!), boots, two pair of shoes, hat, belt, socks, and she still needed new underwear!  She 
found that at Penney's .
I hate shopping!  But you know?  I enjoyed the day.  I was providing for my woman.  I 
needed to do that.

When we returned home, and her loot was stowed, Miriam insisted she would fix dinner.  
"Didn't Brenda cook for you, Bill?" she asked, when I would have gone ahead and cooked.
"Well, sure.  But ..."
"But, nothing!  I'm cooking.  If you can't find anything more interesting on TV, you can sit 
over there and keep me company.   <mumble, grumble>  The day I can't cook for my man, I'll 
turn in my  <mumble, grumble> . . . ."
The girl obviously felt strongly about it.
Dinner was very nice, although simple.  But then, she didn't have a feel for the kitchen yet, 
and hadn't laid in her own stock of groceries.  What I had leaned heavily towards frozen, nukable 
dinners, and things in cans.
Miriam was vivacious.  She seemed energized by the efforts of the day.  And she was a 
funny, witty, charming, entertaining sprite at night.
She was really impressed with the house and the property.  She wanted to know 'why' a 
lot of things were as they were.  In the house, the answer was, mostly, 'Brenda wanted it that 
way.'  And outdoors it was mostly, 'That's all I've had time to do.'  I suppose she'll make some 
changes, but she was quite satisfied with what she found here, and was merely curious for the 
most part.
When we'd finished dinner, she shooed me out saying, "I'll handle it.  You go watch the 
news.  And call me when the weather forecast comes on!  Scoot!"
Ten minutes later the dishwasher was running, and a lovely female joined me to watch the 
news.  But she said she couldn't see properly from anywhere in the room, except in my lap.  I 
thought I could handle that.  And I did.  I handled that, and that, and that.  Most fun I've had 
while watching Dan Rather in years.  The kisses were very nice, too.
Soon we were ready for bed, though far from sleepy.  That was nice, too.

The next day, Miriam drove to her apartment, and packed, as planned.  Bringing clothing 
and items she felt she needed immediately, she pretty well filled her car.  It would be hard to 
maintain that she was just going on another sales trip.  But she ran her errands first, and told a 
convincing tale to her boss.  Then she hit the road again, coming home.
It was late when she arrived, so I had fixed a simple dinner.  I helped unload her car, 
which we parked in the garage alongside my Chrysler, my little pickup being relegated to the cold 
and wet.  The garment bags, I could just hang in her closet.  And the bags could go there too, 
until she could unpack them.  There were a few boxes of things which found an overnight home 
on the floor of my closet.  Then I fed my mate, and took her to bed.
Making love was spectacular that night.  It wasn't very energetic+Miriam was tired+but it 
was an expression of love and commitment, now that she had moved in to stay.


Section 3


During the next week the Salem line was installed, and Miriam arranged for her address, 
too.  Meanwhile, I had the house wired with the best alarm system I could buy, including portable 
'panic buttons,' all wired straight to the sheriff's station in town.
And that was all I was willing to do.  I would not turn my home into a fortress, nor live in 
fear of a crazy man.  Miriam seemed more relaxed, and content than I'd seen her since her college 
days.  And I was ecstatic.

Shortly after we had the Salem line installed, and an answering machine attached, Miriam 
gave her boss her new address and phone number.  Customers could still call her old number:  
Miriam would check that recorder daily and return calls.
One thing I insisted on:  Miriam would not answer the phone directly.  She would let the 
answering machine 'screen' her incoming calls.
Sure enough, about three weeks later, her ex was on the line, wanting to know where she 
was.  I made a copy of the tape, and gave it, along with a copy of the restraining order, to Norm, 
who passed it to the Marion County Sheriff.  Since we were trying to let the world think Miriam 
was in Salem, it had to come from there.  From Marion County, a complaint went to the D.A. in 
Lake County.  Carl, her ex, would be cited for violation of the restraining order, and, we hoped, 
be placed on probation.  Our goal was to cause him to back off some  And that when he thought 
the coast was clear again, Miriam's trail would be too cold for him to follow to us.

I did not want to live in fear of this jerk.  Problem was, he was not only a homicidal 
maniac; he was a smart, well-trained homicidal maniac.  A very good old friend was closely 
connected with a retired Marine Corps Commandant.  I called Paul, and laid my problem out for 
him, requesting that he call General O'Reilly and ask for a name and phone number of someone I 
could talk to.
Two days later, I had the name of the commander of the Seal detachment in Coronado, 
along with General O'Reilly's permission to use his name, and to ask him for any additional help 
he could give.  Paul said, "The General read this guy's jacket-don't ask how he got it.  Retired 
Commandants can get anything!-and decided no ex-Marine should have to put up with this 
scumbag!  He'll do whatever he can to help."
When I called Commander Kochenskii, he knew who I was, and the basics of what I 
wanted.  General O'Reilly had already called him!  We arranged to meet in San Francisco in three 
days.

The Commander was a compact, muscular guy.  Just what I expected a SEAL to look 
like.  I gave him all the details I could about Miriam's ex, Carl, including a copy of the restraining 
order, some pictures, and everything I could remember about what she'd told me regarding his 
past and present activities.
I was moderately surprised to learn that the Commander had not only read his complete 
record jacket, but had seen the files regarding his discharge.  Then he had interviewed a half 
dozen SEALs who remembered the guy.
"This is the kind of turkey we try to weed out long before they become a SEAL," he said.  
"Somehow, this jerk slipped through a crack + happens.  We can't catch them all. + Anyway, we'll 
do what we can to help.  I can help right away, by detailing a team for 'training' in southern 
Oregon.  We're a lot more sophisticated now than when he was with us.  We'll tap his phones.  
We'll watch him.  The first time he even looks like he's trying to contact you or Miriam, we'll put 
some fear into him!
"If this guy is really insane, though, I don't think that will end it.  Probably, he'll just get 
more cautious.  We'll be ready for that, and nail him again+with some physical incentive to let it 
go.  
"If there is a third time, we'll have to arrange a non-fatal-unfortunately-'accident' for him.  
While he's still in the hospital, we'll make sure he knows that he's had his three strikes and he's 
out.  He'll need to move to Florida right away if he doesn't want to be back in the hospital."
This guy was serious!  And he was saying just what I wanted to hear.  "Do you think that 
will really do it?" I asked.
"Not over the long haul," he answered, candidly.  "But it will get you free and clear for a 
year or two.  May I offer some suggestions?"
"Please do!" I replied.
"As soon as we have him out of circulation for a bit, Miriam needs to 'disappear'.  By that, 
I mean, she needs to quit her job and vanish."
"I have no problem with that.  I can certainly support her OK," I said.  "I'm not sure how 
she would take it, though.  She's proud of what she's accomplished in her career, and seems 
reluctant to give it up."
"Well, it's a suggestion.  But a strong one.  Think about it.
"Another thing:" he continued, "Your daughter is a link.  Even if we're successful, he 
could always come to her for information about Miriam's whereabouts.  And no matter what, that 
can't be entirely prevented."
"Yeah, I see that.  And I don't see any solution, either.  If you come up with any ideas, I'd 
sure like to hear them." 
We had to leave it at that.  Commander Kochenskii promised to keep me posted with 
progress reports, and I promised to do the same.

I called Paul with an update and my thanks before I left San Francisco.  I don't think I'm at 
risk at all yet, but why take chances when I can call from a line I know isn't tapped?


2


Back home, I waited a couple of days for Miriam to return from her latest sales trip.  This 
one was to Cour 'd Elene, Idaho.
When she'd returned, unpacked, put the dirty clothes in the laundry, eaten the dinner I'd 
prepared, and we were sitting in the hot tub, I asked, "Miriam?"
"Yes?"
"How hard would it be for you to give up your job?"
Her eyes narrowed.  "Why?"
I smiled and pulled her to me.  "Two reasons.  First, I miss you a lot when you're on a trip.  
Second, I think you need to 'disappear' soon after we move your things out of your apartment."
"That doesn't happen for a week yet," she mused, relaxing in my arms.  "But I can give my 
30-day notice tomorrow."
"No.  Don't do that.  Just disappear."
"Bill!  I can't do that!  They've been good to me there.  I can't just not show up."
"OK.  I can see that.  I'll tell you what we'll do.  I'll get Norm to call the sheriff in your old 
town.  He'll tell him the situation-but not where you are-and get him to arrange to see your boss 
discreetly.  Your boss already knows all about Carl, you said.  If he's told by the sheriff why you 
had to take off, I think he'll understand.  Once you disappear, you can pack up everything you 
need to return to your employer, and ship it from the mail place in Salem.  A couple of weeks 
later, you can write him a letter, outlining any business things you need to. You can tell him you 
were afraid for your life, being constantly stalked, and just had to leave.  And you can ask him not 
to say anything to anybody."
"Do you think that will work?" she asked optimistically.
"No.  But it will buy us some time."  I looked at her, turning to mush inside as I did.  
"Most of all, it will make me a lot more comfortable, having you here where I can protect you.  
You don't 'disappear' until Commander Kochenskii says to.  He plans to put Carl out of business 
for a bit.  You'll fade then."
"When will all this happen?  Will I go on another trip first?"
"I think as soon as your things are moved, Carl will act.  When that happens, Commander 
Kochenskii will act, too.  As soon as he says Carl's out of the way, you'll disappear-here.
"Having studied his records, and listened to those who knew him, Commander Kochenskii 
believes this is a guy who thinks only with his fists or his prick.  Since he's so physical, the plan is 
to have him so busy on the receiving end of physical he'll finally decide he's better off to go 
somewhere else, and find someone easier to pick on."
Giving us both a moment to digest what I'd said, I continued, "It seems the SEALs feel 
badly about giving all that dangerous training to someone without enough conscience and self-
discipline to only use it under direction.  They really don't want to turn trained homicidal maniacs 
loose on the civilian population.
"They will do all they can to make it up to you."
"But, Bill.  How can they insure my safety unless they kill him?" Miriam asked, with more 
insight than I had given her credit for.
"They can't, but they have to try," I answered.  "They'll take it in escalating steps-didn't I 
explain this?-each one doing more damage.  If Carl ends up on a slab, no one will lose any sleep 
over it.  But they'll try to convince him to move across the country and leave you be, first."

The next day I arranged to speak with Norm again.  He agreed with the plan we'd worked 
out, and would talk with the Lake County sheriff.  He knew the guy well, and didn't see a need to 
use the Marion County sheriff as a 'cutout.'  Miriam wouldn't make any more trips.  And in two or 
three weeks, she'd 'disappear'.

Soon after the van arrived to pick up the things from Miriam's apartment, Carl showed up, 
wondering where his 'girl friend's' things were going.  The next morning, the local police picked 
him up in an alley and briefly jailed him for public drunkenness and vagrancy, until he convinced 
them that he had a place to live and had been 'mugged.'  He didn't tell anyone about the bruises 
around his ribs and thighs.
The next day, there was another message from him on the recorder, almost incoherent 
with raving and threats.  This time, copies were not only sent to the Lake County D.A. for 
probation violation, but to the SEAL team.
Two days later, Carl was pulled from the wreckage of his car, which had apparently 
skidded off the road and rolled down a steep embankment.  Carl had a broken arm and leg, and 
several ribs were broken-as well as his nose.  Both eyes were black, and an ear was torn, too.
He'd be in the hospital for a week, with heavy casts immobilizing him-then he'd be in the 
county jail on the probation violation.
It was time for Miriam to 'disappear'.


3


At first, she had a very hard time coping with all the free time-not having work 
responsibilities.  And we both felt that we had been forced into this situation, which rankled, to 
say the least.
Miriam busied herself with 'homemaker' tasks-cleaning, buying groceries, cooking, 
laundry.  Even sewing.  (She repaired some clothes of mine I didn't think I'd ever be able to use 
again.)  But after two weeks, it was obvious to us both that she needed something more.  She 
had, after all, successfully built a career in outside sales over a large territory.  She was used to 
being busy, and to travel.  To seeing new faces, and to the requirement to use her considerable 
powers of persuasion to sell her product line.
Our growing and deepening love for each other, while becoming more important to us 
both daily, could not fill that need.
But it was hard for us to plan for her future-or our future-with Carl still lurking in the 
background.  While Commander Kochenskii and his people had put Carl out of the picture for a 
couple of months, none of us had any misconceptions that we'd heard the last of him.  He would 
find us.  And he would try to do something about it.

After a couple of weeks, Miriam asked me to put her to work.  So I did.  I took her out 
with me on a couple of short trips to interview prospective consulting clients.  As soon as she had 
a good idea of what I was trying to do, I let her handle the selling of the service.  Turned out, 
she's a lot better at it than I am, anyway.  No surprise there.  
And I enlisted her expertise in the marketing and sales parts of the consulting work I was 
doing.  It also turned out she's a very good consultant.  So I built a low partition, and made her a 
cubicle of her own in my office.

In the evenings, we fixed elaborate meals-high in flavor, low in calories-for each other.  
And at night, we loved each other.  Sometimes elaborately, with warm oil massage, candles, and 
the whole nine yards.  Other times simply, with simple love, trust and passion.

All too soon, I hard from Commander Kochenskii again.  Carl was 'on the prowl' again.  
His team would do their best, but I needed to be prepared, too.  From that time, I went armed 
constantly.
We hated this time.  Our simple joy with each other, and our growing love, had this big 
dark cloud hanging over it.  We just wanted to be left alone, to live our lives in peace.  We were 
forced to live with constant vigilance, always concerned about security-always checking behind, 
for what might be lurking.
Then I had to visit a client in Bend for a few days.  I tried to get Miriam to go with me.  
It's lovely country, after all.  But she said she'd stay home.  The client didn't have any sales 
problem, and she had work in plenty to do at home.  She'd be fine.
This was the first time we'd been separated by my work.
The first two nights, I called from my motel, chatting about the events of the day.  
Nothing much, really, from either of us, except that we wanted to talk with each other.  I'd head 
home the third morning, and arranged to call just before I left Bend, so Miriam would have as 
idea of when to expect me.
But when I called, there was no answer.  We habitually disabled the answering machine on 
"my" line when we were at home, but were also punctilious about turning them on when we left.  
I called again 10 minutes later, still with no answer.  I was getting quietly panicked.  So I called 
the sheriff, and asked for Norm, the sheriff, himself.  
He finally came on the line, and I told him the situation.  We both hoped it was a simple 
oversight, but Norm understood the problem, and said he'd have my place checked out.  I told 
him I'd see about getting the SEALs there, too.
Then I called Commander Kochenskii in Coronado.  He'd have his team alerted, and send 
somebody, but it would take at least three hours for the nearest SEAL to get there.  He hadn't 
heard anything from the team which was keeping an eye on Carl, but it would have been easy for 
him to slip the leash, since they weren't keeping a tight surveillance on him.
My next move was to start burning up the highway on my way home.  I was over two 
hours away, but determined to find out what was wrong with my woman.
An hour down the road, I stopped for gas and nature.  While stopped, I called home again.  
Still no answer.  Did Norm's deputies get there?  What is going on?  Why doesn't anybody answer 
the phone?  The questions buzzed around in my head, sending me down the road faster and faster.
Just outside Salem, I saw a police car, lights flashing, with a pulled-over motorist.  That 
gave me a little sanity check, and slowed me down.
Finally, I neared home.  First stopping in town, I tried once more to call.  Still no 
response!  Didn't the sheriff's people find her yet? I wondered.  Driving up the county road, I 
decided caution was probably advisable, so I parked in a neighbor's driveway, a half mile from my 
house, then decided to walk to the top of the hill and approach through the trees from above.  
Take the high ground! my Marine Corps tactics instructors used to preach.  I had two pistols, the 
snub barreled .38 I carried, and the long barrel .357 from the car.
Passing my driveway, I saw a sheriff's car, but no sign of any deputies.  Then, from above 
the house, I saw a still body, in uniform, on my back deck.  This indicated that Carl was, indeed, 
there and had either rendered the deputy unconscious or killed him.  
My house was a trap-for me.

Very slowly, very carefully, I worked my way closer.  I'm really too old for this! I thought.  
It also occurred to me that SEAL reinforcements should be showing up any time now.  About 20 
yards from the house, I stopped, and studied everything.  I finally saw a figure sitting in a dining 
room chair.  Looking again through small binoculars I carry in the car, I could see that it was 
Miriam.  From time to time her head moved, and she was sitting upright.  So it seemed she was 
awake.  But then I saw that she was tied to the chair, and gagged.
Where was Carl?
I had to remain still for over half an hour, but he finally moved.  He'd been on a sofa in the 
living room.  He got up to make a 'patrol' of the house, giving me a chance to slip to the side of 
the house and reach the disguised, buried alarm box.  I was able to trip the silent 'panic button', 
and also to disable the house alarm system.  Now I could be an intruder in my own home, without 
advertising the fact to the intruder within.
While Carl was in the bedrooms, I entered the kitchen.  As soon as he came out of the 
hall, I shot him.  
Even with both hands on the pistol, leaning against the kitchen door jamb, I'm ashamed to 
admit I almost missed.  But it was good enough.  I just skinned his head, knocking him out for a 
minute-all I needed to truss him up like a turkey.
Let those who've been raised on 'Ivanhoe' and other tales of cowboy heroes who shoot 
pistols out of bad guys' hands try chivalry.  For those of us who've been shot at, the priority is 
getting the opponent DOWN!  If he survives, that's his good luck.  My own survival, and 
Miriam's, was my only concern.  I'd meant to nail him right through the chest.

Freeing Miriam, the gag came off first.  "Are you OK?" was my first, breathless, question.  
Assured she was, I asked as I freed her hands, "Did he bring anyone with him?"
"Not that I know of," Miriam answered, understanding the question.  "How's the guy on 
the back patio?"
"Dunno.  I haven't had time to check.  You can do that in a minute.  We have a couple of 
decisions to make.  First, do we let him live?"
Miriam couldn't believe I'd asked that, but it was a pertinent question.  OK, he'll survive 
us.
"OK, love.  But I want to make sure he doesn't feel real eager to come back.  I intend to 
break him a little.  Will you forgive me that?"
"What do you have in mind?" she asked.  I misunderstood.  I thought she was going to 
object.  The female is the more dangerous of the species.
"I had in mind both knees, and the right hand and wrist," I said.  "If I do a good job, he'll 
recover eventually, but not without a lot of pain, and not completely."
"I agree!" Miriam answered.  "But those three areas need to be shattered, not just 
broken!"
Dragging him outside, we propped him on a built-in bench.  I went to get a heavy piece of 
pipe, while Miriam checked the deputy.  "He's breathing, Bill!" she called, just as I swung the pipe 
like I was going to hit one out of the park.
The pain of his right knee being broken woke Carl back to consciousness.  But when the 
left one was also broken, he went right back out.  I hit each a couple of more heavy swats, to 
make sure the damage would be complete.  Then we untied him carefully, and laid the right arm 
over the back of the bench.  
At her request, I let Miriam do the honors.  After all, he had terrorized her for most of ten 
years.  She was due.  After beating the right wrist, hand, and forearm repeatedly, she shoved him 
off the bench, so he was lying on the patio.  Miriam asked me to stomp the wrist and fingers, to 
make it look more like the results of a fight.  I was happy to.  And added a few good kicks to the 
ribs and kidneys.  I wanted to break bones.  I wanted to hurt him so much he'd change his way of 
thinking about me and about Miriam.  I succeeded.
Then my quick-thinking lover scraped my hands on the bricks of a planter to skin the 
knuckles, and artistically mussed my hair and rubbed some dirt into my face.  Ripping a knee of 
my trousers, she dirtied that up, too, and demanded my shirt.  "We'll tell anyone who comes 
you've already changed into a new t-shirt," she said.  And sure enough, in a minute a young man I 
recognized as one of the SEALs stepped onto the patio from the same trees I'd used to approach. 
"Very artistic," he said.  "I like your style, Ma'am.  Sir.
"I saw it all from the trees, where I stayed as a backup if you needed one.  You 
overpowered him, after taking a couple of hits, and giving out some good ones.  You stomped his 
hand when he wouldn't let go of the .357 he'd stolen from your bedroom.
"There's a couple of deputy sheriffs about 50 yards downslope, closing fast.  You tripped 
the silent alarm, so they didn't use sirens.  But they won't waste around with one of their own 
already here and not reporting."
"No problem," I replied.  "We'll just move very slowly, with our hands visible, until they 
settle down.  Their other deputy is probably OK.  That'll help."
Almost at once, we heard, "Freeze!  Hands straight out to your sides!  Everybody turn and 
face me-slowly!"  We complied, as one deputy came around each corner of the house, weapons 
drawn, scanning the area in the approved manner.
"Deputies, I'm Bill.  The owner of this house.  The lady is Miriam, my fiancee.  The other 
gentleman on his feet is a SEAL.  I think your other deputy is OK.  He's just inside the house.  
The bad guy is the one on the seat there.  He's out, but you'll want to cuff him before he comes 
around.  He's a really bad one!"
While the deputy behind us cuffed Carl, muttering an exclamation under his breath when 
he saw his right hand, the other, never wavering from his stance with his weapon 'covering' us, 
said, "May we see some identification please?  You first, Bill.  Slowly, with your left hand, 
please."
"No problem, deputy.  But you need to know I'm armed.  There is a pistol at the small of 
my back.  I'll turn around so you can watch it, and your partner can watch me in front.  I don't 
want anybody else hurt here."
"Yes, sir!" the deputy responded.  "Just stand still and my partner will take the weapon.  
He'll also get your wallet-right hip?"
"Sure," I said, glad things were calming down.  And once he'd compared my driver's 
license picture, he put his weapon away, and suggested we all have a seat.  Carl, on the ground, 
wasn't going anywhere, and we were OK.
Just as the deputy who seemed to be in charge started to ask just what was going on, the 
first deputy came staggering out of the house, supported by the other.  Rubbing the back of his 
head, he looked really sheepish and said, "I never even saw him.  I got the call from Norm, and 
was checking the place out when I felt a blow to the side of my head.  That's all I remember."
"OK, Chuck.  If you feel up to it, drive back to the station.  Otherwise, you can have the 
medic check you over.  In fact, I think you'd better do that, and ride back with Andy."
"Sounds good to me.  I'll just sit down over here."
"Now.  What happened here?" the senior deputy asked.
All three of us filled him in on Carl's sorry history of violence and intimidation.  And that 
he was more dangerous than most because of his SEAL training and experience.  We also assured 
him that Carl was not sane, by most standards, and was capable of extreme violence.  "Your 
deputy-Chuck?-was real lucky!" the SEAL said.  "Carl could have killed him easy by hitting him 
just a tiny bit harder.  Maybe he's got an especially think skull.  Anyway, I'll light a couple of 
candles in thanks for him.  He should spring for a whole novena, if he's Catholic, or be real 
grateful if he's not."
Miriam confirmed that.  She felt the only reason she hadn't been mistreated much more 
than she was (her eye was turning black, and she had some nasty bruises on face, chest, arms and 
legs; where Carl had pummeled her in his frustration), was that he, somehow, felt he needed to 
win her back by eliminating anyone who showed any interest in her.  "Bill was determined and 
lucky.  He slowed Carl early with a lucky kick to a knee, then was able to damage him with more 
blows to the knees.  And when he went to free me, Carl got a gun.  That's when the arm 
happened.  It was all pretty fast, and really scary!"
The SEAL, (Chief Hanrahan, we learned later) confirmed everything we said.
I could tell that the deputy wasn't convinced, but he wasn't going to push his luck, either.  
After all, a very dangerous guy, who had just missed killing one of his fellow deputies, was out of 
commission and under arrest.  The citizens had defended their home.  Everybody seemed happy.  
All he had to do was wait for the ambulance to fetch Carl, go home and write up his reports.  
Andy, he decided, could book the prisoner in.  He'd take Chuck back to the station if the 
paramedic said he was OK.
Chief Hanrahan politely asked if he could accompany Andy in the ambulance, "Just to 
make sure the prisoner gets where he needs to go.  I'm more familiar with his training, and maybe 
could prevent something upsetting from happening."  Quite happy for the help, the deputy agreed.
"Would it be all right if we go clean up?" I asked.  "We've had a lot of wear and tear this 
morning.  I need a shower and clean clothes.  Miriam needs a stint in the hot tub, ice packs, and 
some time in bed.  Could I leave you to handle things out here, or will we be needed some more 
today?"
After a brief moment to consider, the deputy said, "Go ahead.  Please call Norm as soon 
as you can.  He'll be in touch, or I will, if we need anything more."
Miriam and I went gingerly to our room, where we collapsed into each other's arms.

Clutching me as strongly as I was her, Miriam put her head to my neck and let go.  I'd 
never seen her cry like that.  She wasn't hysterical.  But she wasn't just sitting with tears in her 
eyes, either.  Strong sobs shook her frame.  Her tears poured from her, as she poured out years of 
tension, fear, and frustration.
When she finally stopped sobbing, she stood, took my hand, and pulled me up.  Without a 
word, she undressed us both, then led me into the shower, where we tenderly washed each other's 
hurts.  When we were dried, we treated our abrasions with antiseptic cream-after I'd taken several 
polaroid shots of her bruises.  
"What's your pleasure, love?  Ice packs or hot tub?" I asked.
"Hot tub-no contest," she replied.
After telling the deputy where I'd be if he needed me, and to knock before he came out 
there, we retreated to the hot tub at the corner of our deck.  The tub has a marvelous view, but is 
not visible except from our bedroom or the upper deck.
Holding each other in the soothing hot water, feeling my aches melt away as the heat and 
water jets did their work, I could see Miriam relaxing, too.
"Is that the end of him?" she asked.
"I think so.  I hope so.  The Chief says they'll do a little conditioning on him before he gets 
to prison.  I don't think, personally, that he'll survive prison.  If he does, he's in no shape to come 
after us again.  His right hand will never recover, and may have to be amputated.  Both knees will 
always be crippled, even if he gets artificial joints. . . .
"I need to call Norm.  Do you mind?"  When she signaled OK, I picked up the outside 
phone and made the call on the speakerphone, so Miriam could listen.

"Bill!  I'm very glad to hear your voice," Norm said.
"I'll bet you are!" I replied.  "Have you heard from your people?"
"Just a preliminary from the dispatcher.  How about filling me in?"
"Glad to, Norm, although the senior deputy out here seems to have his stuff together.  
You'll want to hear from him, too."  I proceeded to give Norm the 'official' version of events.  
When I finished, I asked, "Norm, how can we be sure this guy doesn't get off-or out in two years 
courtesy of our wonderful parole board-and come after us again?"
Norm laughed!  (I didn't think any of this was a laughing matter!)  "I don't think you'll 
need to worry about that.  That SEAL commander -"
"Commander Kochenskii?"
"Yeah, him.  Anyway, he and I were talking half an hour ago.  Seems the Feds want him 
for investigation of criminal violation of national security.  So while he's still in casts-that Chief 
thinks you do good work, by the way.  He's been on the horn to the Commander.  They're 
impressed.  For an old jarhead, they think you're OK.  High praise indeed, Bill-anyway, the Feds 
will borrow him for a couple of weeks.  While they're 'investigating' him, he'll receive some pretty 
powerful conditioning.  I think he'll be scared spitless of you and Miriam when they're done with 
him.
"Then we'll get him back and try him for attempted murder, and anything else we can think 
of.  I've spoken with the D.A.  We'll throw the book at him.  The judges can't do anything about 
the sentencing guidelines, and the parole board is a law unto themselves.  But he'll be in for a 
good while.  I think when he finally gets out-if he ever does-he'll get as far away from Oregon as 
he can."
"OK.  Thanks again, Norm.  And we're glad your deputy is going to be all right."  And 
with that, we hung up.
"We'd better get out of this tub, dear.  We've been in here too long already.  And I want to 
get an ice pack on your eye."
Steering Miriam towards bed, even though it was only about supper time, I put on shorts 
and slippers and made a tour of the place.  Everyone was gone, and someone had even brought 
my car up to the garage.  I locked up, and crushed ice for an ice bag for Esther's eye.  
She didn't like the cold, but knew it would help.  Her shiner would be pretty spectacular 
for the next week!

Lying there, cuddling, both of us too beat up to even pet each other-or welcome the 
petting-we were lost in our own thoughts for a long while, as we watched the sun set over the 
valley.  (At least it hadn't rained!  A bit unusual, though very welcome, for that time of year.)
Although my body was beat up, my mind was in bliss.  What a miracle!  This woman not 
only met every criteria on my list, she was more than I had dreamed possible.  One tough lady, 
she'd done what needed to be done with Carl without whining or pussyfooting.  And she'd 
contributed her share.  Some pieces clicked together in my head.  And in my heart.
"Miriam?"
"Yes, Bill."
"Would you marry me?"
I saw an expression on her face I've never seen.  Her lips began to quiver, and her eyes 
filled with tears.  She had a look of incredible yearning, and love, and joy+and deep sadness.
After kissing me slowly, tenderly, she sat back and said, "No, Bill.  I can't do that.  Ask 
anything else, and I will, gladly."
"Miriam, I'm confused.  I love you.  You love me.   You've offered yourself without 
reservation.  This is what I want more than anything.  Why?  Is it because I'm too old?"
"Darling Bill.  I'm a slut who let a worthless jerk push me around.  I put you in danger.  I 
put my best friend, your daughter, in danger, and your grandchildren.  Just love me as long as you 
can.  Let me live with you-for as long as you can.  Then let me go, when you don't want me 
around any more.  That's all I need.  That's all I ask."
 "What crap!  I repeat:  Miriam, will you marry me?"
Tears streaming from her eyes, she answered, "You fool, Bill!  If you really want me that 
much, of course I will.  I'll be proud to be your wife!"

We were married two weeks later.


Two years later, our son was baptized.  Miriam wanted at least one child of her own.  I 
was more than happy to indulge her.
We heard that Carl had suffered additional injuries in prison-the state had sent him to a 
prison in Ohio under a prisoner exchange program where states help each other out on 'problem' 
prisoners-which resulted in a shattered ankle.  He'd never get out of a wheelchair.
Then he had a massive stroke, which caused severe and permanent paralysis.  Carl is out 
of our lives forever.

Miriam works on sales projects on a commission basis, and is bringing in more money than 
I've ever made. 
I've reduced my workload drastically, taking only projects which have a special 
fascination.  Everything else which comes to us is referred to a group which can handle the 
projects competently, and pays us a fee for the referral.  My days are spend about one-fourth on 
work, one-fourth on community events, and the rest raising my son and enjoying my wife.
Miriam works harder than I do now, but still has plenty of time for the men in her life, and 
the other activities she wants to do.
We are content.


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