Bad News Becomes Good NewsChapter 5
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Bad News Becomes Good NewsChapter 4 free porn video
A few nights after my tryst with Carrie-Ann I met Chelsea for dinner. Taking the elevator up to get her at University Plaza, Suite E on Floor P, like she had me memorize, I was surprised I wasn't nervous for a first date, but we had been together so often in school I felt like I was dating my sister. I panicked a bit when the elevator stopped at the K Floor (the 11th) and the door opened to a doorman.
"Who are you seeing?"
"Suite E on Floor P."
"Who would that be?" He asked.
"Chelsea Katzenbaum, Chelly Katz." I said as he picked up a phone to call for verification.
Now even if I stepped off the elevator I had no access until he let me through a security door leaving me to assume that the people who lived on the Suite floors were celebrities and private people. After finishing his call he came through the security door and put a key in the elevator and took me to the top floor, Floor P, the 16th. He walked me to Suite E and knocked and simply said, "Enjoy your evening."
I had no idea we had such a place in our area where people sheltered themselves from the public for one reason or the other. Chelsea answered and looked beautiful, much different than in her "news" look.
She hugged and kissed me on the cheek and invited me in to the swanky suite.
"I didn't think I would "hide" like this, but a network news anchor I talked to about taking the job in this market urged me to be as private as possible after working so much overseas in places where Americans aren't exactly revered. The station agreed to it to get me to take it." She said proudly.
"You shocked us all when you joined the Navy and passed up your scholarship." I mentioned, shaking my head.
"I was sorry it hurt Matt so much, but people I trusted convinced me it was the best way to get into what I wanted to do. Overseas I spent much of my time in "safe" zones, but it was still pretty scary, but I got to act as a liaison with the embedded news people in my "year in the field" after radio school." She said as she put on a wrap and led me to the door and out to the parking garage.
"Can I tell you that you look just as pretty as high school Chelsea?" I said noticing how striking she looked.
"I play it down a little for TV. I want to be taken seriously. Plus for people who think you're on TV means you're special, they look at me and aren't quite sure if it's me or not. Network may be glamour, but in a just Top 50 market, there's no glamour and the money is really just OK, but my condo is a great perk. But no numbers means I won't be here long. Luckily the first ratings have been good. They've sold me pretty well." She said sighing as we pulled into the restaurant lot and she waved off the valet.
As soon as we stopped I jumped out and ran around to get her door.
"Oh, you are so sweet. I forgot what it's like to be treated like a woman."
"Those guys over in Iraq and those places aren't so happy to see a pretty woman, they don't fall over you?" I wondered aloud, not kidding, as I took her arm.
"First of all, a military uniform is hardly sexy. I had an extra stripe as a Lieutenant, even though I knew I just got it for access when I was with embedded media, so Juniors and Ensigns were green and wanted to stay away, and Officers either expected sex, or expected to be accused of asking for sex. I was pretty much thought of as a lesbian because I stayed out of any of the clubs and never was with a man. Even embedded media were always women. Even when I worked AS embedded media after my stint, they always gave me a woman." She said as she made sure her car was locked.
I reserved comment as we walked in and the maître D recognized her and took her right to a table.
"Well," I said, "I've let it hang in the air long enough, are you?"
"What?" She asked tipping her head in wonderment.
"A lesbian." I whispered.
She sighed and looked at me quizzingly. "Would it make a difference to you?"
"Well, YES, if I thought we might be able to start a relationship beyond just being friends, but no, otherwise. You should be happy and comfortable with who you are. I just know you told me there was no man in your life." I said, hoping she knew I was sincere.
Chelsea teared up a bit and took out a tissue. "No, I'm not, but I have thought of it, but it just doesn't seem to interest me, so I guess even experimenting has been out of the question. I know how guys talk, and Matt wasn't like that, but you two were so close, he probably told you about our sex life." She said blushing deeply, only to be matched by my own blush as her words.
"Yes, he did."
"I wasn't..." she started to say before leaning up to be sure only I heard her words, "I wasn't going to be known as the blowjob queen of the green zone just to get my jollies. I was happy to protect my career."
Happy we were in a corner where we could really talk easily, the waiter came and took our drink order and I said in a low voice. "It's still a problem? You know ... sex? You couldn't fix it?"
"Wow, the gloves are off aren't they? I guess through Matt we just got closer than I thought we were. Where do you see it's your business? I think you're expecting too much in the way of a relationship." She said, miffed, as she should have been.
"Chelsea, you're all I have from the happiest time in my life. My pitching arm is dead, Matt is dead, Megan is someone else, only you remain as, ... well, YOU! A gorgeous woman like you should be having a great time meeting men and looking for the love you had in Matt. I can tell you that I enjoy sex and it's one of the most rewarding things when I get the chance at it. To think of you missing that makes me sad. That may sound stupid, but if only for Matt's sake, I only want the best for you. Seeing you as an old maid someday would be sad."
Chelsea put her head down and she dabbed tears and looked around like she wished she or I weren't there. With pursed lips she said "Drop it, OK? It's upsetting."
I was embarrassed I had brought it up. I guess I knew a very personal detail about her and just wondered about it. She was such a good looking woman and it seemed a shame she was foregoing a relationship part of her life, and the possibility of marriage and family for something she might be able to correct.
We finished our drinks and she ordered another round while we ordered dinner, and then I waited for her to break the icy air, and I do mean icy!
"Okay, I'm over it now. I realize you're concern over me, and you want the best for me, but I've learned to get by taking care of myself. So, can we just drop it?" She said with a stern look.
"Afford me a couple more words, please." I begged.
She leaned in close to me and asked, "Do you want to fuck me that bad?"
"That's not it at all Chelsea and you know it, you're like my sister in so many ways. It's that kind of love that makes me want you to enjoy life and do the things a vibrant woman should. Why can't you ask your doctor about it?"
"I guess this isn't going to die, is it? I know you're just trying to be my big brother. Matt wanted me to go to my doctor, but what was I going to tell him and then have him explain to my mother that her supposed virgin daughter had too much pain during sex?" She asked me in frustration.
"Well, since then?"
"Navy doctors don't need to know I'm sexually active. They might talk, most of them are officers, and officers talk." She said curtly.
"Chelsea, everybody has sex. I promise I'll never bring it up again if you at least go to a doctor, and don't worry, they HAVE to be discreet. Promise me?" I told her, hoping we could change the subject quickly.
"Okay, I'll do that, I promise you, but don't ever ask me about it. This is kind of private. Jeez, KIND of private! I'm, I guess... , flattered that you worry about me so. Here I was thinking you were going to try and hook up with me and I was going to let you down easy. We should just be friends, and you too are the only one left from MY happiest time in my life, UNTIL I get that network job." She said smiling.
From that point the conversation changed to normal talk and I spent the rest of the night wondering HOW I got to that subject in the first place. I think she steered us that way, or maybe it was me assuming she had an affair or two in the service, lonely in a foreign country.
By the end of the night if she had any discomfort over the talk earlier it was gone. We had a ball talking about old times and remembering Matt. She drove me to my car and stopped to put it in park beside it.
"Well Rance, I had a great time reminiscing and picking up where we left off I guess. You know half the school thought I was cheating on Matt with you. Matt even asked me once in our senior year if we ever hooked up. I was so pissed at him."
"If I tried, how would I have done?" I asked kiddingly.
She fell back into her seat a bit and sighed. "I wasn't screwing Matt then, so I wasn't going to screw you. But, I did know that Megan wasn't going down on you. Once when I was pissed at Matt I thought of doing you, but I didn't have the balls."
"Just to show how naïve I was, when somebody asked me if I was "doing you" they had to explain what they meant and go over the reasons, you know me driving you to games and all. It never crossed my mind, that's how much I loved Megan."
"I thought she was that over the top for you too until the day she was accepted at UCLA, she told me she couldn't wait to fuck a blond surfer, lots of them. When I asked about you, she laughed and said it was only a high school crush. I thought she was either being crass or kidding. I couldn't tell you. You were so sweet then." She said with a chuckle.
"I'm not sweet now?" I asked, pouting a little, for show.
"You ARE!" She said leaning up and over to kiss me.
Our lips met and it was a magical kiss, it felt so good, maybe because I always wanted to kiss her after Matt passed, just to show her that I hurt and cared as much as she did. On the other hand, maybe it was because I really did want her. I had such a good time that night and suddenly I didn't want it to end. It was 1995 again.
Our kiss broke, but neither of us backed away, I moved a bit towards her and she pasted her mouth to mine for a long kiss as I slipped my arm around her. When that kiss broke she rested her head on my shoulder for a minute and I heard her sigh.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
She answered by putting her mouth to mine and kissing me deeply again, putting her tongue in my mouth and then suddenly backing away quickly.
"Matt, I mean Rance, it's been so nice, I don't want this to end, but it has to. I haven't been kissed like that in forever. Look at us thirty-something's like teenagers in a car. Good night." She said sitting back signaling that the kiss was over.
I grabbed the door handle and pull it to open and got one leg out and I felt her hand on my shoulder.
"Rance, I promise I'll see that doctor, just like I told you." She said and gave me a cute little wave, holding her open palm up and flapping her fingers.
I didn't know what to think of our goodbye that night, but I did call Chelsea during the week only to get her answering machine that directed me to her secretary at the station. They couldn't connect me with her saying she was on assignment and that she would get messages. I watched the news that night and she was at some hurricane disaster site doing reports on local college students there. I left her a message but she never got back to me. I was pretty much immersed in my work again and found little time for much else, although I did see Carrie-Ann 4 or 5 times over the next 2 ensuing months. Carrie-Ann had truly become my check-valve of life.
Carrie-Ann truly enjoyed, as did I, or sexual liaisons from time to time. I let her seek me out, as she wished, and at the time I don't think she was seeing any of her other male concubines. I found she was writing a book of her strife as a woman trying to make it in a man's world. I just envisioned her reaching a point of sexual need she could not satisfy herself and calling on me, usually at the plant, by asking me out for a drink, or over to her apartment. After the first time we never met at my place, always hers, or the one weekend we spent on a lake in the Adirondacks with friends of hers. There was never a call the next day, or was one expected. Goodbye kisses were as they were after our first session, like a mom dropping her son off for school, a quick smack and goodbye. When I once described this relationship to a friend he asked if I was insulted that after I served my purpose she threw me away. I answered "No, I just did the same thing with her. She was my gratis hooker, and I her gratis male escort."
After leaving many messages over months with no response, I gave up. If there were a reason she didn't want to see me, I only hoped she would have given me the courtesy of a call. Then on a Saturday night when I was just getting in from seeing Carrie-Ann I saw my message light flashing on my home phone. Only 2 people had my home phone number, my Mom, Mahoney, Jenkins and Smith Construction, and Chelsea. I took all my other calls on my cell. The home phone was there so I kept it as a back-up for those who couldn't get me on the cell, but I used my cell for everything else. My cell was still off from the time I met Carrie-Ann that night.
The message was a little abrupt and without emotion from Chelsea. "Hi Rance, I was hoping you could come over tomorrow, Sunday afternoon, anytime after one o'clock. I'll throw together a nice dinner and we can spend the afternoon talking, watching some football maybe. If you can't make it, call me in the morning, otherwise, just show up. I know you're in town, I saw you at the light at Silver Pines Mall today."
It was 2 in the morning and I was sure I was going to sleep until noon on Sunday after a marathon at Carrie's. I set my alarm for 11 to be sure I was up and around to go see Chelsea. I wanted to know why she had ignored me so long. After setting my alarm I sat on the bed exhausted and began to undress. My shirt smelled of Carrie-Ann's cologne, and when I stood to let my pants fall all I smelled was pussy. I sat and smiled at myself for 2 hard cums that night and the sound of Carrie's squeals and grunts. I peeled my socks down and lay back on the sheets for a second. Then next thing I knew was my alarm going off. Nine hours went by in the matter of an eye-blink and the smell of pussy still lingered on me. I was beginning to get hard smelling and thinking of the night before, but my shower and looking forward to seeing Chelsea distracted me enough to let it die.
When I got off the elevator with the bellman he didn't have to walk me to her door, it was open and she was standing waiting for me. She nearly jumped in my arms to hug me and quickly retreated.
"I know I owe you about 10 apologies for non-communication. I've just been so busy, and I procrastinated a lot, wanting to see something through before I got back to you." She said while suddenly acting in whirlwind going to her kitchen to check the oven and then showing me to the sofa and turning on her TV and giving me the remote.
"I'll be right back." She claimed and went off again and came back with a hors d'oeuvre platter and 2 bottles of the same beer I drank on our dinner out.
"Dinner will be ready in about an hour, I'm doing a prime rib with roasted root veggies." She said as she settled in the chair kitty-corner to me.
We blabbed and chattered, while drinking a few beers apiece talking about everything except work for 45 minutes occasionally turning our attention to the game I had put on. She just seemed so happy to see me and have me there to talk. We talked of favorite vacation spots, some current events, restaurants and people we had went to school with. The only dour moment was when she told me that she had helped get Matt's mother into a nursing home. She had kept up with her over the years and the last time she saw her it was apparent she couldn't take care of herself anymore, forgetful and frail. She called a relative and put the wheels in motion.
Suddenly she bounced up and proclaimed we would eat in 10 minutes and for me not to move, she had everything taken care of. Chelsea was obviously very happy about her life, seeing me, and making dinner for us.
Dinner was in a word, fantastic! Truly a meal you could not get in any restaurant, Prime rib about 2 inches think and medium rare for the juiciest piece of meat I ever had, prepared with roasted onion and the veggies were perfect. After dinner she brought out a home-made raspberry apple pie that was a true winner in every regard. I insisted on helping her pick up the table and get stuff in the dishwasher. Then she shooed me from the kitchen and said she would be out with digestifs in a minute. She came from the kitchen with two shooters and a bottle of Sambuca a few minutes later. I was in heaven. Nothing tops a meal or a great day like Sambuca. You just have to be careful, it 42% alcohol.
We sipped our drink and the first football game had ended and the pre-game came on for the second game and she took the remote and turned the set off.
"I have some things to tell you and I need your undivided attention. I loved making dinner for you and spending the afternoon with you, but now the real reason I wanted you here." She said with an apprehensive smile as she adjusted her legs under herself and got comfortable.
"No questions, at least yet, until I finish saying all this, OK?" She asked to my nod.
"Two months ago I went to a gynecologist in Alabama while I was on assignment. He was the first doctor that I told that intercourse was so painful, I hadn't had it in almost 20 years or so. He asked me a million questions about sex, about the size of my lovers, whether I could orgasm or not, what positions I had tried, just a lot of really personal embarrassing questions that I found easy to answer. The doctor was like 60 or 70 years old and seemed very wise and fatherly, he really made me comfortable. I found him while perusing the internet one night and a woman was asking questions about painful sex. She had seen him and loved his manner, so I made a note of where he was and decided if I ever got in the area I would go. Anyway, he asked the last time I had an internal exam, and I told him just my yearly exam and smears, all that lady stuff."
"He questioned if I ever told anyone else about the problem and I cried and told him about my paranoia. He understood and comforted me with stories of other girls with the same fears, I was not alone. Then he asked if he could do an internal and I consented. He looked as other doctors did but he used a few other probes, and then reproduced the same pain I had when we tried sex. He wheeled a little machine over telling me it was an ultrasound. He put goo all over my belly and moved a slippery probe all over my abdomen and showed me a growth, probably on my ovary. He called another office in the building and sent me for an MRI. When I came the next day he told me I had an ovarian cyst about the size of a grapefruit, and it had obviously been there a long time, and for some reason it had not grown for such a long time, it was probably hard and obviously benign. I panicked at the word cyst, thinking cancer or something. He chuckled like a wise old grandpa and said, "My dear, cancer is a vile disease that would have developed and made itself a home and taken your life long ago. I'll bet you've had this since you became a woman, since maybe 13 years old or so. He thought it grew and instead of resolving itself it grew hard and probably grew all during my developing years. It's size should have made it obvious and caused me pain at a lot of times, but the location was odd that it couldn't be seen from an internal and only hurt during sex. Two days later they did a laparotomy to open me and remove it. They did it like I was having a c-section so the scar would be on my bikini line. It was as big as they thought and had just a lot of firsts for this old doc over his years looking and tending at female parts. So, I want to thank you, Rance, for encouraging me go and finally doing something about this. You, apparently, cared more for my own well being and happiness than me." She said finishing with a big smile on her face.
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