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Apparently, I did not have the only ‘Mr. Bear’ and it would seem me and my proxy wife (I honestly had no idea what that meant) had the same viewpoint on breasts. “Tell me she doesn’t have the most incredible tits lover.” The massive melons of Mary, (that’s a pub song or a porn series) filled my screen.
“What the hell is going on Cathy?” Like I didn’t know.
“Just answer the question.”
When a woman says that to you, especially when she’s your better half, you know what she’s really wanting as far as an answer.
“Yes, they’re awesome, built for fucking and creaming on. But there is a house full of boobs here tonight that each have a drooling attribute all their own,” She started to interrupt me but I kicked in first. “None of them however have the firmness, lift, nipples, AND under curve you have. And that’s my whole-hearted belief.”
Giggle.
“You’re getting good at this baby.”
I didn’t have time to respond. On my monitor mom had misty by the hand leading her to a setup made for some serious girl-on-girl. Pillows were everywhere, I can’t count the vibrators and dildos strewn about, there was also enough lube to grease the treads of every tank that ever saw action. And candles. When that scent worked its way upstairs under my door my brain kicked in, people were missing.
“Where the hell is sob and Popoff?”
This time I did look at my monitor, the screen had split. Cathy on one side, the show of a lifetime on the other. The singular side had a sheepish face. “Er, I believe misty may have given a little ‘sleep help’ you know?”
“WHAT! That’s not a one-man, er, woman deal. Mary went along with it..? Holy hell man, what haven’t you five been in on? Shit!”
I think most people would have expected a ‘welll’ at least. I got, “Go check your closet.”
“No. No way. Not till you answer.”
Death eyes. “GO!!”
Yosemite Sam (you’ve heard the name before) is a hero of mine. The dude could go on for ten minutes, not saying a word they could bleep, but still, make you feel like you heard the pope swear. I beat him. But I also did something that would prove to be a life saver during my marriage, I finally learned how to shut up and just stew.
I did however almost lose it when I opened my closet. In my closet? A microwave. Cathy, what the fuck? Over my shoulder, I heard her start to sing, badly, the Bugs Bunny theme, and it clicked. Show time, or to my perv aunt movie night. “You need help wife. And what, by the way, is proxy?”
Three minutes of silence on both our parts and I got chastised. “I need help? You got that oven up AND popping pretty fast? Maybe want to watch it too, maybe? Her demeanor softened. “And proxy my love means I, or you, don’t have to be in the same place. Just our hearts and I do’s.” That sunk in fast, and considering what was starting to go down (yeah I said it) on my screen, was sort of amazing I actually didn’t falter at the fact I was going to be married soon. “That is the best thing I could have ever thought of. I love you there, here, over there,” Grin. “Over yabancı gaziantep escort the table, in the car, at a hockey game.” That got an ‘oh really’.
“So tell me. Exactly how do plan on having me when you’re on the ice?”
“Didn’t say my game. Okay, imagine if you will, an outdoor rink. Were wrapped in a blanket and not enough seating. You get my lap, but my zippers un-done and you have a very convenient hole in your yoga’s. Sit on my lap and hope for a high-scoring game you can bounce to.” The screen was starting to heat up and I found myself having zero interest in it. “AH, you know what? This extra butter? No way I’m jacking that into my cock, greasy salt? Not.”
Cathy made a soft sound. Was a lame attempt at an excuse and she knew it “Lover? Look at me.” I didn’t really have to, I knew she’d read my face when the downstairs bear went dead…along with her half of the screen. “What is wrong?”
“It has nothing to do with sex right. The proxy thing I mean.”
“It has a lot to do with sex and absolutely nothing. I miss your touch in every way you could possibly imagine, but that isn’t anything without it being from you. I love you and miss you and…baby it’s okay.” Coach is wrong about me, I’d make a horrible soldier, everything just hit me and I started silently crying.
“You can stop wife. I miss you horribly too. Details on proxy please?” I got what Id dealt out before. Not till you tell me what’s wrong? BOO-YEAH.
“Damn. You can be a real pain sometimes you know that woman? I got a snicker, snort reply.
Wait till you get one of my death nuggies. That effectively stemmed the tear duck flow. Now out with it.
Something had been burning in my head since I’d gone into the attic for mom. I wanted something out of there. “Can you hold on for a few? I want to go get something and I can’t carry you (phone) and the stuff simultaneously.” Cathy nodded a wary yes. “Be right back.”
Whatever was going down in the living room was noisy. Was either a kitten fest, bumble bee convention, (toys), or (read as moans) seance. Either way, they all got ignored, I wanted my growth charts, all of them. As it was nobody got disturbed and I got my sticks and the photos down without a call up from downstairs.
“What is all that lover.”
“Stuff I need to get on top of. That game’s looming. Want to see something?”
“What?”
The rink sat outside my window, the lights were off but we had a security light that shone on it so you could make out the silvery shine of the ice intersected by the fresh lines. “Might not look like much, but.”
I got told to shut up, emphatically.
“Your team will own that game. Now, show what you got.” Giggle. “And I’ll show mine, WHICH..by the way, you haven’t seen.”
That half-heartily got ignored, (yeah had my curiosity up) but the sticks all came out one by one, from the almost three-foot one, (plastic shaft and all) to the first of the laminated wood, of which there were many, to the aluminum gaziantep yabancı escort shaft that was my first real semi-pro stick. I knew when that first stick came out I was going to hear it.
“OH MY GOD WERE REALLY THAT SHORT!?”
“You should know you bought it for me!!”
(Insert awkward silence)
Giggle. “Yeah, okay, um..so whys that one golden?”
I was going to tell why when the box of pics caught my eye. “Here check it out.” Didn’t take a lot of digging, mom was anal (sorry, no pun intended) about keeping photos in groups. “Dad painted it for me when I got my first hat trick.” I pulled out a picture of pop with his arm around a gap-toothed, overly proud, ear-to-ear grinned son. Was kind of hard not to get mad considering electric, but Cathy as usual lightened things up.
“You look like a pumpkin.” Giggle.
“Oh, thank you, dear.”
“Your welcome Linus, just call me Sally.”
That made me giggle (shut up, guys do it too) “You alone with me in a pumpkin patch? That would give the great pumpkin a lot to think about.”
Oh ho, so the pumpkin king is a perv huh? Like’s to watch?” She lost it. “LMAO, can’t wait to see a creamed pie!! I cracked at that one.
“You are nuts you know that, and besides, anyone that saw you riding reverse cowgirl, and in a melon patch of all places, not only earns it but deserves that title. And look who’s talking miss voyeur”
There was a soft ‘mmm-huh’ “Next stick please.” The next one was the wood.
I can’t remember how many of these I went through. You know the planters around the back and front porches?
Yeah.
Their all made of old hockey sticks I broke. We sanded them down, glued them into planks, and made the boxes. Didn’t even have to weather-proof them since they were laminated. Man, that’s a lot of sticks.
I guess I got overly reflective because a genteel next drifted out of my phone. The last of them was the aluminum shaft. There wasn’t a picture to go with this one, I’d bought it on my own, and it had paid off dividends. Turns out a heavy lean can turn into a wicked shot paired with the right bend.
“This sticks like the one on the wall, they are good to me, sounds funny but it’s true. My game got a lot better when I found these sticks.” The thought came back into my head, one that had been eating at me since the new ‘C’ had been given to me. And she saw it.
“Okay lover, what’s wrong, and don’t even try bullshitting me.”
Downstairs a very loud, either appreciated or shocked yelp went out. “Man, Mom’s electric bill is going to be sky high.” Cathy didn’t bite.
“What. Is. Wrong?”
I didn’t want to talk about it, bad luck and all, but my wife was asking and it’s not a good thing to hide your thoughts from the one you vow to spend your life with.
“Something bad is going to happen.”
“Okay. When? Two minutes from now, three years…?”
“In the game. Something bad is going to happen in the game. And I’m scared to the point of telling escort gaziantep yabancı coach I don’t want the captain position. It might be my decision that causes it.” In that box of mom’s well-storied photos was a pack that had zip to do with hockey, but I wanted to see and share with Cathy. “Check these.”
One was of me and dad covered head to toe in shitter goop. “We got flooded. The whole basement overflowed and we couldn’t use electricity to use the sump pump. Man what a stink.” Another was mom dyed purple from squishing blueberries for jam. “Dad ribbed her for days calling her an ompaloompette.” That last one was us at grandpas funeral. “He taught me a ton of shit. Changed me from a skinny boy into an athlete by toting me along to sling hay bails and feed sacks. I didn’t even know he had cancer, just died one day.
What does this have to do with hockey lover?
Nothing, just..all of this happened in the blink of an eye.”
Cathy knew exactly what I was getting at. “Oh god, lover listen…”
I didn’t.
“Why do you think love dies? What causes people to just forget lifetimes together, or leave without so much as a warning? Why can one inconsequential decision turn into a disaster? Huh? What if something happens and you never get the chance to tell them? Why say I DO and just blow it off years later?”
Cathy was very calm and slow in her reply.
“Turn your screen back on. I noticed my bear turn on. I want you to sleep with me tonight.” Sleeping with my Cathy sounded like the only thing that made sense, but…
“How do you propose to do that? Got a transporter?” I was totally reluctant, but, my monitor lit up again. Truthfully I fully expected to see the girl on girl ‘do me’ show, but It wasn’t even close.
Cathy was stretched out on her side covered from her underarms to just above her hip in a flannel blanket. Shed propped herself up on one elbow, the blanket letting one long leg show.
“You listen to me. I don’t know why things go sour, all I know is right now I love you and can’t imagine anyone replacing you. You are my fantasy and reality, you make me smile and take the heat when we fight, then come back still in love. Now put the sticks and photos away and lie down.”
The sticks didn’t get put up or the pics either. I just striped falling onto the bed. Then the music started… “Your gonna make me pass out Cathy.”
“GOOD! Listen.”
My aunt, when she’s not goofing around, has a siren’s voice, whether she’s talking, cooing, or softly singing. “Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight.” She giggled.
“Okay so your not a music man, but I am yours faithfully. You hear what I’m saying?”
Seeing her on my screen. Hearing her sing and talk. And most importantly, knowing she knew exactly what song would fit into this warped situation caused a croaked, tear-sucking back reply, “Don’t ever go away. You’re my air. Okay my turn, Can’t sing though.”
‘I don’t wanna sleep, I just want to keep on loving you.’
Somehow my screen did turn into a transporter. “You need sleep. I fully expect a picture with my man and his trophy.” She got that sly ass smile on her face again. “Tomorrow check your e-mail, I and the ladies have our own uniform to wear to your game.” Started to ask what and got hushed. “Shhh. Sleep with me. Hold me, touch me, wake up with me. I love you, my man.”
I didn’t hear the last giggle she made over me.
Was too busy sawing dream logs.
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