Chapter 1

 

I came from an average family, in an average neighborhood in average middle America. Nothing special or unusual about me or about my childhood. Maybe I was given some opportunities that some other kids didn't get, but most of my growing up period was just average.

I have always been considered a wild-child. Of course nothing sexual happened before I turned eighteen. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. I was the girl in the neighborhood that showed all the boys what an "eighteen" year old's pussy looked like and what it was all about. In high school I was considered by some to be the mother of all sluts. Looking back on it I suppose I was. If not the mother than at least the sister of all sluts. By the way, my name is Toni Atkins.

Whatever I was told not to do, I did. My mother, being hot natured herself, got me on birth control as soon as I turned eighteen. She went into great detail about sex, which was good because I hadn't known very much, and most of what I "knew" was incorrect.

In high school I never went without a date if I wanted one, because the word was out on me. Most of the boys knew I was easy. If I liked the boy, if he was nice to me, and he was clean, I gave him head or even some pussy. Most of the sex was in parked cars or some other inexpensive place because most of the boys didn't have the money to spring for a motel room.

When I went away to college things were somewhat different. There we had rooms to have sex in. It was in college that I was first introduced to group sex. I liked it a lot, and made myself available for it at every opportunity.

While in college I met Edward, my husband-to-be. We fell in love, got married after graduation, and had children. I took the wedding vows seriously, and I resolved to be faithful to my husband which I did until death parted us. Edward literally worked himself to death. Sitting at his desk, he had a massive heart attack and died before anyone even knew he was in trouble.

Our two children, Lisa and Eddie, were both grown and away at college. Suddenly I found myself without any of the family I had dedicated myself to. I was all alone. Stinking rich, but oh so alone. I had spent the past twenty years caring for a family that now didn't exist any longer.

I said rich, but it dawns on me that the term rich is subjective. Edward owned his own company, and he wasn't even cold before I had offers to buy it. All the offers were good, as in five million plus good. In addition to that, Edward had a very large insurance policy of two point five million.

They say money can't buy happiness. I can testify that it is a true saying. I was, as I said, rich, but alone and very unhappy. Forty-three years old, and alone with no idea what to do with myself.

I spent the first six months after Edward died feeling sorry for myself and managing to gain over twenty-five pounds of ugly fat. Somehow I managed to shake off the grief and get myself back into some semblance of good shape. I went to the gym every day for over three months. I mean every day. At first it was hard going. I was soft and flabby, and it took a while to just get in good enough shape to drag myself back to the gym. Soon, however, it got easier, and I did what I had set out to do. After six more months I was in great shape for a woman of any age, let alone mine.

It didn't take long for the buzzards to start gathering. Word was out that I was a middle-age, rich widow, and here they came. Tall, short, lean and fat they came with one obvious agenda. Land the rich widow.

I had no trouble fending them off. I wasn't ready for any romance from anyone. I suppose I was still grieving. It was almost a year after Edward died that I met him. Him being David Thorn. It may have been his unusual name that caught my attention, but more than likely it was his looks.

David was nearly six feet tall with a lean fit body. I know that because it was at the gym I met him, and he was wearing a pair of ragged shorts and a raggedy sleeveless shirt. In that up-scale place, most of the men seemed to carefully choose and coordinate their workout attire. David didn't seem to care what he looked like.

I covertly watched him work the machines and admitted to myself that he looked good...damned good. I guessed his age at thirty-five, but found out later he was actually a few months older than I. We only smiled and nodded during that first encounter, and also the second one. It was on the third meeting that he spoke to me.

"Hi," he said, taking the treadmill beside mine. "How's it going?"

"Fine," I answered smiling and wiping the sweat from my face. When I'm working out I sweat like a horse. "How's it going for you?"

"If it was any better I'd be required to run an ad in the paper." He laughed, "okay, maybe not that good, but not too shabby either. You're Toni Atkins, aren't you?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"I met you about five years ago at a Christmas party. The party was at the Miller's. I thought I recognized you, but I asked around to make sure."

"I'm sorry, but I don't remember you...oh, you were with..." I didn't know where to go from there. He had been with Sally Norton, the soap opera star. I read where she had died a few years earlier.

"Yeah, that one. Sally and I were married. Norton was her stage name."

"I'm so sorry," I said. "I heard she had died. Auto accident wasn't it?"

"Yeah, a drunk driver hit her...she was on her way home. We lived in Westchester then. After Sally died, I moved back here. I'm sorry about your husband. I didn't know him, but the people who did thought he was a good man. I guess it's true that the good die young."

That was about it for that meeting. I saw him several times after that from across the gym or in passing. He always smiled and waved, or if we happened to be close enough we exchanged greetings.

I went into my three nights a week phase at the gym, and I didn't see him very often after that. It was nearly five months after our only real conversation that I ran into him in the gym parking lot.

"Hi there, Toni Atkins," he said. I was getting into my car, and he was parked two spaces down.

"Hello right back at you, David Thorn," I said. I threw my equipment into the back seat of my old car. It was funny in a way. I could afford any car on the market, yet I still drove that ten year old Toyota. His hair was still wet from a recent shower so I assumed he had finished his work-out also. "I didn't see you inside."

"Nope, I finished up early on the machines. I spent the last half hour in the pool and the hot tub. I was lazy today."

"I've been giving some thought about getting my own hot tub," I said. I don't know why I said that. I hadn't given it a moment's thought.

"You'll love it," he said. He had strolled closer and was leaning against my old and dirty car. "There's nothing quiet as relaxing as a soak in a hot tub with a glass of wine." He suddenly laughed, "That was just for your mental image. Actually, I hardly ever drink wine while in the tub. Usually I pop the top on a cold beer."

"That would be more like me. I like beer better than wine also." I told the truth about that. I developed a taste for beer in college. I spent a lot of time and money trying to develop a taste for wine, but it never happened.

"Since we both like beer," David said. "Why don't we go somewhere, and I'll buy you one. There's a nice little pub right up the street."

"I'd like that," I responded. "Lead on McDuff. I'll follow you."