By: katie rose and Michael Lee

"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep" - John Keats

The second martini had barely taken effect on his nerves when the announcement was made to prepare for landing. Jake Parker hated flying. He loved to travel but could do without the traveling. As he tightened the belt around his lap, he sensed the aircraft slow and begin a gradual banking descent, the large silver wing dipping slightly below the horizon. Suddenly, the white, barren landscape of Minnesota was visible beneath him. He had come a long way in search of answers, covering great distances with his body as well as his soul. And to imagine this had all begun only three days ago. Three days in which his perception of his father had been radically altered.

Pull it together, Jake, he thought. Come on, you can do this. Although he flew often, he could never quite sit at ease in the cramped seats. Too many people coupled with his complete loss of control kept his stomach in tight knots. Jake was a man who believed in control. He lived by the principle that you reap what you sow, and "luck" was merely a direct result of the amount of work you put into your goal. Fate was a product of opportunities seized or lost. He had seen his share of both over his twenty-eight years. And until that Thursday evening three days ago, he didn't believe in destiny. But now, as the plane flared out just before touching down, he doubted his belief in control. He felt like a child again, watching as his father made the choices that decided his fate. Just as surely as his father controlled his every move as a towheaded eight-year old, he now controlled Jake twenty years later. Even though his father had been dead for two months.

It all began with a simple phone call. Jake had just sat down in the wicker swing on the screen porch of his South Florida home. The mosquitoes remained at bay as the chorus of crickets and singing frogs serenaded the moon and stars. Jake was exhausted after a grueling eleven-hour day at the plant. The new production line had finally been put into service, and he was looking forward to the three- day mini-vacation he had planned. The grass stood high and weedy in his neglected yard, and he knew he should cut the lawn before some nosy neighbor called with a not so subtle hint to pay closer attention to the neighborhood covenants. After all, they would say with a condescending air, we only have our mutual benefits in mind. Yeah right. His mind snapped back as the phone rang. He answered on the first ring to a soft, feminine voice he did not recognize.

"May I speak with Jake Parker please?" He detected a slight trace of an accent. She was not a native of the South, that much was certain.

"This is Jake."

"Mr. Parker, hi. You don't know me, but I would like to talk with you about your father."

"My father died two months ago." Jake answered, slightly irritated by her directness. He suspected that this pleasant girl was actually a bill collector looking to collect on an old debt. He was already tired of the struggle to settle his father's estate. Would it ever end?

"Yes, I know, and I am truly sorry. Please hear me out a second."

Jake thought about it for a second before answering. "Sure. I'm sorry for being impatient, but you have no idea how difficult this has been since he died."

"I'm afraid I do, Mr. Parker. I lost my own mother two weeks ago."

"Look, I'm sorry for that Miss . . ."

"O'Brien. Kathleen O'Brien."

"Miss O'Brien. I really am sorry. But how can I help you?"

"Please, call me Kathleen."

"All right Kathleen. I'm sorry I don't understand what this is about . . . " he trailed off, wondering exactly that. Something in her voice intrigued him, and he waited as she gathered herself and finally spoke.

"Did your father ever mention someone named Grace Adkins?"

"Not that I recall. Why?"

Jake heard her take a deep breath on the other end of the line. "Well, I think that your father and my mother were once lovers. A long time ago. And . . . well I found some letters . . . and I was just curious about . . . God, I'm so embarrassed. Look, please forgive me for bothering you. This was stupid."

"No, wait Kathleen, please. How do you know it was my father?"

"Well, I found some letters that she had saved. A man named Ray Parker wrote them to her. The return address was 402 Twin Lakes Drive, St. Paul, Minnesota. They were written thirty years ago. I hired a private detective to track down the man who wrote the letters. He traced him through public records to an account of his death, two months ago. I believe Ray Parker was your father. Is that correct?"

Jake didn't know what to say. He knew he should be suspicious of this stranger's motivations, but for some reason, he trusted her warm, soothing voice. "Yes, I believe my father once lived in St. Paul. And Ray was his name. Just what is this about Kathleen?"

"Love, Mr. Parker. This is about love. I have a story to tell you, Mr. Parker. But I need your help in understanding it."

"Jake."

"I'm sorry, what was that?" she asked, slightly flustered.

"Please, call me Jake."

Kathleen hung up the phone, relieved that she had finally gone through with it. The restless nights that had been following her for the past two weeks were finally easing. Her hunch had paid off, and she believed she had found the man she was looking for. But what could the son of a dead man possibly do to help her? Admittedly, she was bitterly disappointed to learn that her mother's lover had died. Her disappointment was compounded by the realization that Jake had never heard of her mother. Perhaps she was wrong. Maybe her mother had held on to a dream that had been severed on the other end years ago. She hated to think of her mother loving a man who had forgotten about her, a man who had apparently abandoned her at her greatest time of need.

As she stretched out on her couch, she thought back on the events of the past few weeks. Strange how you can be walking in one direction, things seemingly going great, and then suddenly be thrust facedown in the cold mud. Her mother's death had come as a complete and total shock.

That afternoon, Kathleen had decided to work late, and had phoned her mother to break the dinner date they had planned. Her mother told her not to worry. She would stop by the local deli for a plate of turkey salad. Ten minutes later, Grace O'Brien was killed instantly as her car was hit broadside by a man too busy changing cassette tapes to notice the red light in front of him.

It was over in the blink of an eye. Kathleen had loved her mother dearly, and her sudden departure left Kathleen crying and heartbroken. She was her mother's only child; her father had run off eighteen years ago. Her mother was the only family Kathleen had. Grace was buried in a private service, and

Kathleen busied herself with tying the loose ends of her mother's estate. As she sorted through her mother's belongings, searching for things to keep and things to throw out, she came upon an old, tattered shoebox. The lid was neatly tied with a red ribbon, the type worn by young girls many years ago. As she removed the lid, she stared in fascination at the contents lying before her. Although she did not know it, she had stumbled upon the answers to questions her heart had only hinted at before. And within minutes, the great mystery of her young life began to unravel before her. Kathleen hesitated, then opened the first letter.

She was standing at the end of the ramp, holding a sign that read "Parker".

"I'm Jake Parker," he said, noticing with a slight surprise how attractive she was. She stood tall and straight, her auburn hair pulled off her face. A slight scattering of faint freckles were sprinkled across her turned up nose, and her rosy cheeks spoke of the cold wind blowing across the snow covered parking lot.

"Hi, Jake. I'm Kathleen. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice."

"No, I really should be thanking you. I never would have been here if it weren't for you."

She smiled and dropped her eyes, appreciating his sincerity. He was cute, she thought, sensing the growing blush on her cheeks. "Come on. You can get your stuff over here."

They walked together and stood in silence as the carrousel brought his bags to him. She led him across the terminal, and they caught the shuttle to her car parked in the lot. Although they sat in silence, neither felt uncomfortable with the other. As Kathleen drove out of the parking lot, Jake noticed for the first time that her left hand was free of any rings. Searching for rings on the hands of attractive ladies was a habit he had acquired after his twenty-seventh birthday. And it seemed that more often than not, his inspection revealed a golden band topped with a shimmering stone upon the third finger. For some reason, he was pleasantly surprised that a woman as attractive as Kathleen could still be single.

They made small talk all the way to her house, carefully avoiding the subject that had brought them together. As she parked the car in her drive, Jake reached into the seat behind him and removed the scrapbook from his carry-on bag. Kathleen had stopped and was staring at him and the yellowed scrapbook in his hands.

"Is that it?" she said, almost whispering.

"Yes. This is it." Jake looked at the scrapbook, feeling the weight of the years that were invested on its sheet. Inside were his father's most private possessions. Possessions no one had ever seen, not even his mother. His fathers' secrets were now held in his lap, looking exactly the same upon his discovery of the scrapbook three days earlier.

Jake had been in the attic for two hours now. Sweat was rolling off his forehead, stinging his eyes and making his sight blur. He didn't even know why he was looking up here. The girl who called seemed so sure that he would find something that he assured her he would at least look. So, instead of enjoying the start of his vacation, here he was, sweating and grumbling to himself. As he opened the umpteenth box of his father's belongings, he saw something. Something that he had never seen before. It appeared to be an old scrapbook, but it was not one he recognized. The edges of the pages were torn and yellowed by time, but the book's thickness assured him that the contents were still inside. He pulled the book from the box and sat on the plywood flooring.

Inside were pictures and news clippings from his father's past. He could see nothing referring to him or his mother inside. Primarily, the clippings were from his father's youth. Baby pictures, a few grade school pictures, merit ribbons and certificates. Then, as he turned another page, his throat tightened and his heart seemed to skip a beat. There, in the harsh light from the bulb hanging above, he saw a letter. It had been pasted to the page, and was written in the curvaceous script of a feminine hand. The date at the top of the letter was December 15, 1969. He looked to the end to find the salutation. Suddenly, the blurring of his vision seemed to result from something other than sweat. A small tear ran down his cheeks as he read the last line.

"I can't wait to see you again. Love, Grace Adkins"

She had been right after all. His hands shook as he closed the book and placed it gently on the floor. What would he do now? All at once, he felt his life had suddenly taken a new direction, one that was driven by the currents and vortices of a force he had never admitted to himself even existed. As he scooped the book into his hands, he suddenly knew what he had to do. The answers to a stranger's question were in his hands, but somehow he also knew that both of their destinies were tied within the bonds their parents had obviously shared.

Jake sat down, and called the number she had given him. She answered on the first ring.

"Hello."

"Kathleen, its Jake. It's here. I found what you were looking for."

They were sitting on the floor of her living room, holding their parents letters. Kathleen had given Jake his father's letters to read, just as he had handed the scrapbook of Grace's letters to her. They had decided on the phone to meet, and read the letters at the same time. And now the time had come.

Kathleen had made them each a drink, and the room was lit with a soft glow from the fireplace. She had a lovely home, built in the early twenties in the architectural styles of the time. The woodworking was splendid, and the interior decor was tastefully done with an eclectic blend of antiques. The home exuded a warmth and character not unlike its owner.

Kathleen spoke first. "The first letter was written by Mom. It is dated December 15, 1969. Mom was only 18 years old at the time."

She took a deep breath, and began to read. Jake immediately loved the soothing tone of her voice, and it seemed her mother was alive again as her words, written so long ago, were heard again.

Dear Ray,

I hope you don't think me too forward by writing you, but sometimes I have to go with my heart.

I was really glad that you came to the party with your cousin Jan. I was equally delighted to hear that you are joining them for the holidays.

While I'm reluctant to bring this up, I feel I need to explain a few things. I know you are aware that I have been dating Bill. Truth is we've been together for 2 years now, and even though it has not been announced as official, we have talked seriously about getting married after I graduate in June. We seem to have our lives planned out. Even though he'll still be going to college, I think that we've worked out most of our future.

But those plans were all made before I met you. I know I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but when Jan introduced us, and we shook hands, I could feel a special connection to you. For the remainder of the evening I couldn't keep my eyes off you as you moved around the room joking and meeting everyone. All the while I kept telling myself that I had no reason to feel this way, that I shouldn't have been thinking about the way your warm hand engulfed mine and how your thumb caressed the back of my hand.

I don't know whose idea it had been to play that kissing game, but I will never be able to thank them enough. You can only image my delight when you and I were paired together. Without it I never would have been given the excuse for getting that obscenely close to you, and to be given the opportunity to openly kiss you. Could you feel my heart pounding? As I placed my hand on your chest I could feel your heart echo mine. I hope I didn't make a spectacle of myself in front of everyone. But it was such a turn-on, feeling your tongue trace over my lips until the kiss was completed.

I realize that I have no right to say this, and I hope this is well taken, but that kiss we shared was one of the most moving experiences of my entire life. Was it only one sided? I have never been kissed so tenderly, with such passion, and something else, I'm just not sure what it was, or how to put it into words. For that one moment in time I felt cherished. I just wanted to thank you for that.

Bill will be returning home for the Christmas weekend and leaving on Sunday afternoon. I hope that sometime over the weekend I will see you.

I don't know what it is that draws me to you. I realize I shouldn't, but even if it's just to talk with you a little while and get to know you better. I want to be near you. I want to know everything about you. Things you like; things you don't. Your most private hopes and dreams.

I better go now. If I'm wrong here, just let me know. Believe me I'll understand.

I can't wait to see you again.

Love,

Grace Adkins

Kathleen paused, and looked at Jake. Jake then looked down at the letter written so long ago, when his father was hardly more than a child himself. His heart was pounding in his chest. He momentarily considered the situation, weighing the implications of the course that had now been set. He had been debating with himself for the past three days, and the decision seemed less sound than ever. He was violating his father's privacy. He knew that now. But the currents of destiny pulled him along, and he was as powerless to stop as he was to halt the incoming tide. He took a deep breath and held the letter before his eyes.

"Here goes," he said resigned now to the decision that had been made. "The next letter is from Dad. It is dated December 19th.

Dearest Grace,

Thank you so much for writing. I can't tell you how thrilled I was to receive your letter. You were the highlight of my trip. Usually, my weekend visits to Uncle Walt's don't end with such a nice surprise. That kiss we shared made the rest of the weekend fade from my memory. All I can think of was the feel of your lips on mine, and the taste of your sweet tongue. I can't get you out of my mind, Grace. In fact, I am sitting at my desk writing you this letter barely five minutes after reading yours. Now I know that I will be seeing you in person long before you read this letter, but I felt compelled to tell you how excited I am about this weekend. I only hope that my anticipation is not misguided.

Did I accurately read the signs you sent? Were the glances you cast my way, as you talked with your friends, intended to express what I hope they were? My pulse is racing as I think of you sitting on the couch, moving your lips to mine. Was I dreaming, or did you slightly open your lips, secretly inviting my tongue inside for a quick taste, all in the guise of a friendly kissing game? Of course, I think I know the answer to those questions. The signs were unmistakable, weren't they?

In any event, thank you Grace for a lovely evening. By now you know that I am indeed coming to Uncle Walt's for the holiday, and that I plan on visiting there a couple of times a month to help him with the remodeling. While I enjoy the carpentry work, I have to admit that these trips are usually pretty boring. But, God bless Jan for introducing us. I now look forward to my trips with excitement. I will see you soon.

Sincerely but with tremendous anticipation,

Ray

Jake looked up at Kathleen's smiling face. "Forward little guy, wasn't he?"

The tension of the day finally broke, and each broke into hysterical laughter. Their laughter greatly exceeded the humor, but both were relieved by the release. After the giggles had subsided, Kathleen nudged Jake's arm, saying, "Your turn again, Ray."

Jake opened the next letter and began to read again. "Now it is December 27.

Dearest Grace,

What can I possibly say to express what happened to us at your house Sunday night? How can I tell you how you made me feel? To think that just a few days ago, we were total strangers, strangers who met through a chance meeting. But this was a meeting orchestrated by the hand of destiny. How else could so much have happened so quickly? How do you explain moving from a simple walk and good night kiss at your door, to the passionate coupling as we made love on your parent's couch less than thirty minutes later?

My mind is spinning so fast as I write this, my hand can barely keep up. Forgive me if I sound lovesick, but I am afraid that it is exactly the way I feel. Sick that I am here, that I had to leave less than two hours from the time we shared our love. I could see the hurt in your eyes as I left you and drove away. I, too, had tears. But stay by me, Grace. I will make it work. Somehow. We can do this, if we try. I will return in two weeks and the time apart will only serve to strengthen our bond. Trust me. I won't let you down.

Grace, I have to tell you this. I know that I have strong feelings for you. Feelings that I can only describe as love. And I have complete confidence that one day soon, you will feel the same towards me. I could see that love in your eyes, even if it wasn't expressed on your lips. Would you have made love to me the way you did Sunday night if you didn't share those feelings? I don't think of you as a sex-on-the-first-date kind of girl. Am I wrong?

Don't be frightened by the speed with which things have heated up. And I hope this letter isn't disconcerting to you, as my only intention in writing this is to be completely honest with you. No secrets, right? That was our pledge to each other as I drove away.

Please accept my confessions, and be kind to my heart. But should you have to choose between honesty and kindness, let the truth be the light to your path. My heart can survive, as long as we hold fast to our pledge.

So good night Grace. And until next time, I am

Yours,

Ray

"Wow." Kathleen was stunned by the intensity of the words Jake had just read. As she looked at the next letter in her hand, she felt the power of Ray's words move through her. God, she thought. Will I ever be loved like that? She reflected back on her disastrous love life. Several sorry boyfriends, and one failed engagement. Her track record in love saddened her, especially in light of the connection her mom obviously felt for this man. But what had happened to them? The anticipation was gnawing at her, and yet she knew the answers were in her hands. Hers, and the hands of a stranger.

She looked up at Jake, and slightly smiled. Somehow, she was moved not only by his father's words, but also by the way he had spoken them. They were uttered in complete confidence. Faith that his father's words of so long ago would again be heard, and understood. She caught Jake's eyes and for a brief instant, they remained focused on each other. She could feel a spark between them, an attraction of souls. Or was it just her imagination? She struggled to pull her eyes away and again glanced on the next letter held in her lap. As she scanned the pages, she immediately noticed something.

"Uh, Jake."

"Yes?"

"Look, I have to say something. I'm afraid I can't read the next letter."

Jake looked at her in shock and disappointment. "What? You can't read it? Why?"

"It seems to be, rather, . . . I don't know exactly how to say this."

"What, Kathleen?"

"Well, it's rather . . .personal."

"Personal? How?"

"It seems to be rather . . . explicit, if you know what I mean."

Jake looked at her and smiled. "Oh, I get it. You mean it is sexy."

"Not just sexy, Jake. Really sexy. Like Penthouse letters sexy."

Jake laughed at her, teasing her with his eyes. "And you read those, eh? I always thought women believed that to be pure smut. I'm tickled you owned up to that."

"Come on, Jake," Kathleen replied, a blush of embarrassment now growing on her cheeks. "I don't read that crap. I . . . well I have seen them . . . occasionally."

"Kathleen, I thought we had an agreement. We have to know what happened to them. I don't know about you, but I am dying to know why it ended, aren't you?"

"Yes, I admit it. I am too."

"Look if you want, give it to me, and I'll read it myself."

"No. We agreed to do this, and that's what we will do. I'll read it. Just don't laugh at me, please?"

"Okay, Kathleen. I swear. Scout's honor, see?"

He held up his hand in the gesture from years ago, and Kathleen smiled again. The embarrassment she felt faded, although it didn't quite go away. She took a deep breath and began to read again.

"The next letter is from Mom. It is dated January 1, 1970. New Year's Day.

Dear Ray,

There are so many things I want to say, but first I want to say, thank you. The time that we spent together meant so much to me.

I feel guilty for feeling the way I do, but last weekend I couldn't wait for Bill to leave so that I could spend some time with you.

Because we've talked about it a little you knew I wasn't a virgin. But I have a lack of experience that was obvious when I was with you. I know neither one of us planned it, but I can't get it out of my mind. Believe me, it's true because right now it's 4:15 AM and I can't sleep. All I can think about are the vivid memories of our lovemaking. I close my eyes and I can see it all happening again.

The two of us telling my parents goodnight as we sat so innocently in front of the TV. I remember the minute they were out the door you reached for my hand. My heart skipped a beat knowing that you were as eager for them to go as I was.

I couldn't keep my eyes or my hands to myself. I had to let my fingers investigate the different parts of your body. I wanted to feel the rough hair of your chest tangle through my fingers. I hope you weren't put off by my forwardness. But I felt like I couldn't help myself.

As we sat there, I argued with myself. I knew you shouldn't have been there. The temptation was too great. I had just said good-bye to my steady boyfriend hours before and now I was totally enjoying my time with you. Why do I feel like we connect so well? And not just in a sexual sense. We are both so different yet so similar. You seem to know just what I need to talk about and you understand me.

I will always feel guilty about cheating on Bill, but I can't yet bring myself to break off what we have. There is too much history and future planned there. But I also cannot deny the feelings I have for you and the excitement and thrill I feel every time I am with you. I hope you can understand that for now, this is the way it has to be.

You have left me imprinted. Forever I will feel the way that your hands so lovingly caressed me. Exploring every inch of me in the blue reflective light of the television. Oh, how I wish we could have been somewhere else. Some place we wouldn't have to worry about being discovered by my parents. I so wanted to feel your entire naked body against mine, but I was too afraid to take the risk of getting caught. Instead I had to settle for you removing my panties from under my skirt. I couldn't believe we went that far. How did things get so out of control, so fast? But, with you tracing lazy circles along my neck with your tongue, and your hand up my shirt, teasing and pinching the tips of my breasts, I couldn't think straight.

I knew I had lost my fight when you slipped your fingers between my legs. I felt you caressing my most inner hidden area. The moisture slick between us. All I knew for sure was that you were bringing me great pleasure and that I didn't want you to stop.

When my hand slid over your hardness, and I felt you shudder, I knew there would be no turning back. I had to have you inside of me. I wanted to return the pleasure. I still remember the look of surprise on your face when I told you so. I could see an almost animalistic lust in your eyes. I felt like I was out of control, that I had to feel you inside me. I watched in wonder as you removed your pants. You have a beautiful body, but of course my attention was drawn to your penis, which stood hard, anticipating our union. I couldn't help myself, but the perfect shape of it entranced me. I had to stroke my hand up and down the smoothness of your skin creating a heated friction and a rise in your passions and desire for me. I couldn't believe I was causing you to react this way. I alone held that power. It was an intoxicating feeling. Even in the low light I could see the veins throbbing, the shaft lengthening and thickening with each of my strokes. Remember when a small drop of wetness appeared and I spread it over the head with my thumb? I loved the groan and shudder it produced.

I wanted to feel your hardness inside of me. I could see the desire in your eyes. As you slowly pressed into me, I could feel you filling me. What a wonderful sensation it was. I felt you sinking deeper into me, causing me to hold my breath until you finally had your entire length inside. I could feel your muscles tighten in restraint as you let my body become accustomed to your invasion, but I needed to feel you moving. The intense attraction we felt had to be answered.

When you looked into my eyes, I knew you felt more than just lust for the slut that I was being. At that moment I was yours. Yours to make love to. And then we began to move. I can still feel it. It will forever be imprinted in my mind. That wonderful friction created as our two bodies moved as one. Our combined moans of joy were stifled by our kisses. Our movements became more and more frantic until we could hold out no longer. I felt my waves of pleasures reaching new heights, to a place that I've never been before. I never knew being loved could feel like this. Your final thrusts brought you to the edge and you buried yourself in me as far as you could. When you came I could feel you spilling your seed into me. In hindsight, that wasn't the smartest thing for us to do, but it was what I wanted and needed. I needed to feel your cum coating the inside of my walls. I was in heaven, and even now the thought of it excites me.

I don't know where we're going with this, but I can't wait until you return to me.

Love,

Grace

Jake whistled. A long, low whistle that instantly expressed how he felt. This was unbelievable. He was slightly embarrassed, knowing that the words were meant only for his father's eyes, and yet, he was also excited. After all, a lovely young lady had just read them aloud, and the words hadn't lost any effect in the translation. If anything, the room seemed to be alive with sexual tension. Suddenly, he felt very warm, and the room seemed too small. Jake couldn't look at Kathleen for some reason, and he stood, making a lame excuse. He had to get some air, that was certain.

"Uh, I think a need another drink," Jake said, standing and straightening his slacks. "Can I get you something?"

"Yes, please. Another glass of wine, okay?"

"Sure thing. Be right back."

Kathleen was also glad for the time alone. She too needed time to think. And, she admitted, to compose herself. The last letter had gotten to her. The explicit sexuality of her mother's letter had aroused her in ways she was hesitant to consider. Despite her conservative approach to matters regarding sex, she was a highly sexual woman. The words she had just read, along with the handsome man she had just read them to, were taking their toll on her body. She could feel the blood rushing to her pussy, and she sensed the moisture already forming. She couldn't help but notice Jake's tight rear as he walked to the kitchen, and her mind wondered how it would feel in her hands. Stop it, Kathleen, she thought. For God's sake get a hold of yourself. You are not some horny teenager reading Penthouse with your friends. But that was exactly how she felt.

As Jake entered the room, he noticed Kathleen sitting primly on the couch, and he again noticed how pretty she was. She seemed to be slightly distracted, and her legs were rubbing together. Of course. She is aroused, he thought. His notion seemed to be confirmed by the flush on her neck and chest, and by the faint outline of her erect nipples peeking through her shirt. Well, at least I'm not alone then.

Jake handed Kathleen her glass, and sat down.

"Well, looks like it's my turn again," he said. "Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"The next letter was written on January 7, 1970.

Dear Grace,

Once again, here I am. Back in my lonely world, lost without you. God, I feel so empty tonight. It appears that my only salvation, the only remedy I can find for my state of mind is through the pen in my hand. I have never been a letter writer, Grace. But the simple act of writing my thoughts gives me great comfort. And this comfort can only be sustained by continuing to tell you everything. No secrets, right? So, before I lose my nerve, let me confess yet another detail of my past.

Do you remember our discussion that first night? We talked of our past loves, and our past lovers. You told me that you had only been with Bill until me. And I told you about Linda. As we talked, I became more and more aroused. Just listening to you describe making love to Bill was embarrassingly exciting to me. Did you wonder why I was asking you so many questions? Did it make you uncomfortable? I still can't believe that you told me all those things. I loved hearing how he makes you come with just his fingers. The way he caresses your pussy. And especially the way you like to be eaten. So now, it's confession time.

Grace, I lied about Linda. Sure, we dated for a while. She was my first love, and I was hers. But she never allowed me to make love to her. We dated exclusively for almost three years. And when she broke up with me last summer, I thought the world would end. All of that is behind me now, but I tell you this for a reason. I was completely faithful to Linda. As a result, until we made love that Sunday night on your parent's couch, I was a virgin. I am sorry for telling you now, instead of then, but I was so embarrassed by it. I wanted you to think of me as this hot, experienced guy. I suspect you knew something was amiss after I came so quickly that first time. But the way you responded to my inexperienced touch amazed me. And the sheer bliss on your face as we made love, even as quick as it was, was the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. Thank you Grace, for bestowing the gift of your love on me.

Can you see now why I asked you so many questions? Grace, I wanted to know how to please you. And you told me exactly how. And judging by your response this weekend, I think I have it figured out. Oh, Grace, you are so sexy. And your talents are beyond belief. Not only are you a wonderful lover, but you can also write the hottest sex scene I have ever read. I would have never guessed that beneath your wholesome demeanor beats the heart of a lioness. The letter you wrote describing our first time had me instantly aroused. Your descriptions rang so true that I relived the moment again and again, as I read and reread your letter. You certainly make it difficult on me, here all alone. Now what can I do?

So, tell me dear Grace, did I satisfy you? Am I as good as Bill? God, this is so crazy. To think I have completely fallen in love with you, even as you belong to another. And I couldn't care less. I will take anything you give me. As much as I hate seeing the words as I write them, I am yours Grace, to do as you please. I don't care if you fuck Bill every day, as long as I get the nights. But this isn't about sex darling. This is about so much more. This is about me, loving you. Hoping against hope that you will learn to love me as well. That one day, you won't need Bill. That one day, all you will need is my hand in yours.

After all, I am,

Ray, who loves you

Jake put the letter in his lap, thinking about all he had learned. He couldn't quite keep up. There seemed to be something missing. Many of the pieces were sliding into place, but he still had questions. He looked at Kathleen, and decided it was time to ask his questions. Perhaps she had some of the answers.

"This is quite the soap opera, isn't it?" he asked, opening the door slightly.

Kathleen put the scrapbook in her lap for a moment, and looked at him.

"Yes, I suppose that it is."

"Look, I'm a little lost here. Who is Bill? Do you know?"

"Of course." She stopped, not offering any more information, but refusing to drop her gaze either.

"And?"

"He is my father." Kathleen dropped her eyes as she said this, and her voice seemed to waver. "At least, he once was. My parents divorced when I was ten. Actually, divorce is too nice a word for what happened."

Jake could sense the pain in Kathleen's eyes, and for a moment he was sorry he had asked the question. But she looked up at him and attempted a brave smile. One that more closely resembled a grimace than any smile he had ever seen.

"Kathleen, look I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"No. That's okay. You need to know what happened. When you are ten years old, you don't know your real parents. All you see is Mommy and Daddy. I was an only child, and I thought I was the princess everyone said I was. Looking back, I knew my parents argued, and I knew that Daddy was gone quite a bit. But this was my life. I thought everyone lived this way. And then, early one morning, Mom woke me with tears streaming down her face. It was a Saturday morning, in late August. I still remember it like it was yesterday.

"All she could say between her sobs was 'Daddy's gone, baby. He's gone.' I thought he had died. It never occurred to me that he could just walk out the door and never come back. My Daddy, the Daddy that was supposed to love me, had left me. So when Mom explained that he had moved out, I couldn't understand. I kept asking when he was coming home. She just shook her head."

Kathleen wiped the small tear from her eyes. "Oh, God. Look at me. Crying like a child over something that happened eighteen years ago. You know, on my sixteenth birthday, I finally vowed that I would never cry over my father again. That was the second year in a row that he didn't call on my birthday. No present, no card, nothing. That night, as I lay in bed, I vowed that I would never shed a tear again. I pushed him out of my heart, just as he had locked me out of his life. And I kept that vow until just now."

Jake moved over beside her, and tentatively put his arm around her. She lowered her head until it rested on his shoulder, and together they stayed still. The embrace took on an air of friendship as the minutes ticked by. Kathleen's soft sobs eventually receded, but Jake found himself hesitant to let her go. She felt so warm in his arms, and his fondness of her increased as he pulled her closer. Kathleen felt the pressure, and turned her wet face to his. They locked eyes, neither able to look away. And then it happened.

Kathleen tilted her chin slightly, inviting the kiss that she suddenly craved. Jake could sense the change, and he lowered his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and tender. However, in light of the tearful moment that had barely passed, the kiss was infused with sadness. It had the distinct feel of a goodbye kiss between doomed lovers. But it was a kiss that changed something inside of him. Jake felt his heart literally ache for her. He didn't think it was possible to feel his heart break, even as they shared their first kiss, but somehow that was exactly how he felt. When the kiss ended, Kathleen smiled up at him, and this time, the smile was genuine.

"Thank you, Jake. I . . . I don't know what else to say."

"Then don't speak. We still have some letters to read you know. Are you ready to continue now?"

"Yes. I think so. Are you?"

"Yes. Where were we?"

Kathleen looked at the scrapbook, and announced that it was her turn again. "All right then. It is now January 15. Grace has written another letter.

Dearest Ray,

I think I must be going out of my mind. I've only known you for such a short time, yet here we are at another weekend, and I'm missing you terribly. You have no idea how many times I've read your letter over and over again. I remember our promise of no secrets. But with that promise comes trust. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me the truth. It took a lot for me to admit to you that I wasn't a virgin. I didn't want you to think that I was some slut or someone who slept around. I see that you do understand. But honestly, your being a virgin doesn't make me look at you in a bad light. Now that you've told me, I feel all the more special. For you to have chosen to share this means more than you will ever know.

I didn't even put two and two together when you were asking me questions. No, it didn't make me feel uncomfortable answering your questions and I suppose that was for a couple of reasons. The first is that I feel totally comfortable with you. I feel like I can tell you anything, and you'd understand. The second reason was because by asking the questions I felt that you really cared about what I wanted, what I needed sexually. And the third reason I'm almost ashamed to admit. I was becoming more aroused telling you about how I like to be touched.

Even though we were able to make love again last weekend, I never did get to ask some questions of my own. Such as, what is it that makes you feel good? I want to know all the ways that I can please you. Where is it that you would love to feel my mouth, tracing a wet path along your body? Just what spot, touched and caressed by my fingers would cause you to moan in ecstasy? I think I found a few of those places this weekend as we watched that special sunset, lying together naked, flesh to flesh. Do you like it when I talk sexy to you? Do you want to hear me telling you quietly in your ear just how you're making me feel, how your fingers drive me to insanity, and every pinch of my nipples sends a shiver down my spine?

Did you notice something about my letters Ray? There is a method to my madness. In these letters I talk about our making love, the bringing together of our two bodies and souls. I want you to always remember it, and to always want to come back to me. Ray, I don't think you need to ever ask if you have satisfied me. If for some reason I didn't make that clear this weekend, I hope that by now, after reading this letter you have your answer.

Boy, you don't beat around the bush sometimes. Were you as good as Bill? A gentleman should never ask that. I'm only kidding dear. I say that like I'm all knowing in the world of sex, but honestly Bill and I have only gone all the way a few times, so to some extent I'm almost as inexperienced as you are. I don't mind though, because together we can learn. I think you've learned quite a bit about me already. That thought alone has the power to give me gooseflesh.

I don't think that you have to wait for me to realize I love you. I may not have been able to say it, or at least I wasn't willing to put it into words, but for some reason, from that first day, that first kiss, I have loved you. I feel so guilty saying it, but it's true. I do love you Ray but I feel I must carry on this charade with Bill a little longer. I don't feel right telling him in a letter that I love another man. I want to wait until he comes home on spring break. It's only a few weeks away. And while I'd like to shout from the rooftops and tell the world that I love you, I think it's best that in front of everyone we maintain just a friendship. I want to continue to see you whenever I can, but I don't want to hurt Bill by having it get back to him that I'm cheating on him.

Cheating on him. I can't believe that I've admitted to that. The shame and humiliation I feel about it is overwhelming, but I can't stop now. You mean too much to me.

There is one other thing that I think we need to talk about. I want you to know that I thoroughly enjoyed our unprotected lovemaking. I remember the feel of your come dripping from my pussy after we finished, and how you stroked your fingers through the stickiness of our lovemaking, lightly feeling my swollen lips. But I thank you for bringing protection. I know we were not prepared the first time, and knowing you remembered means so much to me. As I say that, I guess you might have figured out that what I'm trying to say is we were lucky during our lapse in judgment, but I don't think we want to take that chance again.

I'm going to close now, but remember, my Ray, that I do love you so very much. I know that this has been a strange thing to have happen to us. I'm almost frightened by how quickly this has heated up. Not only physically, but emotionally also. Do you think that we can make a relationship like ours last dear? I can't wait until I get to see you again. Until then dream of me Ray, as I will be dreaming of you.

Love,

Grace

Kathleen again placed the scrapbook in her lap. As she read more and more of her mother's letters, she began to see her Mom as a young, passionate girl, madly in love. The highly sexual tone of the letters should have made her feel uncomfortable, but somehow, they allowed her to see her mother in a new light. She was less a mother now, but more of a friend, and Kathleen was completely entranced by the tale of love and lust unfolding before her. Her body continued to respond to the words, and her arousal was intense. But there were still details she needed to know. She too wanted to know more about Ray, and to a greater extent, Jake.

She looked at Jake, and asked, "Jake, how did your Dad die?"

"He died of colon cancer," he said. "He was only 47 years old. They found the polyps in a routine screening, and removed them the same day. But it was too late, and when they operated on him six months later, they recognized the extent of it. They sewed him up, and he died two months later. I guess the modern miracles of medicine took a day off."

"Oh, Jake, I am so sorry."

"Thanks, but what can you do? At least he was able to see it coming, and was allowed time to say his good byes. Although I miss him terribly, I'm glad we had the last few months together. Dad and I were always very close, and we became even closer at the end. But in spite of all that, he still never mentioned Grace. I guess some things are too personal to share, even with your closest friends."

Again they fell into a reflective silence. They seemed to be mourning the loss of their parents, and in some ways each was saying a silent goodbye. Kathleen stood and changed CD's on the stereo, allowing Jake time to gather his thoughts.

"Hey, Kathleen, you ready to continue?"

"Yes, I am. Are you?"

"We'll know in a minute." Jake took the next letter, and with a deep breath began to read his father's words once again. "The next letter was written on January 24, 1970.

Dear Gracie,

And still the music plays,
as the dancers move and sway.
Their bodies step in time,
to a love so divine.
Will the heart know the cost,
when the music is finally lost?

In the true spirit of romanticism, I have written you my first poem. Corny, right? Obviously, it is inspired by our last night together, at the dance. Spending the evening with you, holding you in my arms, feeling your body beneath your dress, was the most sensual night of my life. The promise of love spoken as you moved in my arms made me weak with desire. It almost seemed as if we were locked in a sexual embrace. The heat from your body fueled my passion for your love. Could you feel my hardness pressing against you as we danced? Do you think your friends noticed? I hope not, but how could they have missed the way we held each other? God, the way you were rubbing my cock as we danced was so naughty! And all of your friends there in the same room. That kind of thing is hard to hide, and even harder to explain once someone sees it. Don't get me wrong, baby, I loved it. You don't know how wonderful that made me feel. Knowing you couldn't stop yourself from holding me that way made me dizzy with lust.

Honestly, I don't know how much more I could have withstood, if you hadn't taken my hand and led me to the car. I don't mean to rush you, but you have to tell Bill. I don't think it can wait much longer. Someone is going to notice how much time we spend together, and the word will get to him. I'm sorry that I am getting impatient, I just want to be with you completely. I don't want to have to hide my feelings, and I don't like the idea of him holding you, kissing you, or loving you. I know I told you it didn't bother me but it does. God, I'm sorry for that. I didn't intend to turn this letter into this discussion. So let me change the subject, and see if I can change the mood as well.

Do you remember what you asked in your last letter? You wanted me to tell you what I wanted, what made me feel good. I think you have figured out most of that already, don't you? How, you ask? Then let me tell you what I like, and how you have already fulfilled my every wish. Where was I? Oh yes, the dance.

As we hopped into the car, and I started the engine, you reached over to me to try to warm us up. God, it was so cold. But your breath was like fire, and your touch left flames as your hand moved to my lap. As our breath steamed from our mouths, I felt you fumbling with my buckle. I wanted it so much, but I dared not wish for it. But you continued your explorations, and suddenly I felt your cold hand wrap around my exposed cock. Your tongue danced with mine as I felt the rush of blood, hardening my cock as your hand moved slowly up and down, up and down. The fact that we remained in the dance hall parking lot, under the streetlights, in front of everyone, was long forgotten. The minutes passed by, agonizingly slow as your stroking reached a fevered pitch. I could hear my wetness in your hand, the slippery sound of your fist on my shaft creating a lovely rhythm to our kisses. And then, you stopped. God I was so close to cumming right then, I couldn't have lasted another minute. That could have been embarrassing, my cum coating us both. But you had other plans. And I couldn't have been more pleased.

One thing I love - cold hands on my warm cock, followed by your hot lips and tongue. God, Grace, I have never felt anything like that before. As you moved back in your seat, you also removed your hand. The cold hit my wet cock with a shock. But the cold was quickly replaced as you lowered your lovely head into my lap and took my cock in your mouth. I have never endured such exquisite torture. The coldness wrapped around my shaft as your lips rose from the base to kiss just the wet tip. And then, just as quickly, the frozen air was replaced by the tropical warmth of your mouth as my cock was engulfed yet again. The feelings drove me crazy with desire, and that is why I said the things I did. I'm glad that you enjoyed my rough talk, but honestly I had never done that before and it just happened. I was embarrassed at first, but you seemed to enjoy it and even stopped once to tell me how much you loved sucking my cock. So from there, it just felt right. Our short time together has produced many firsts for both of us, hasn't it?

Just as you were my first, I know now that I was the first cock you had tasted. I do admit that fact surprised me. You and Bill had been together a long time. But in some ways, that is better than taking your virginity. Taking a cock into your mouth is such a deeply personal and giving act. And then, to finish the way you did was truly inspiring. When I warned you to stop, that I was going to come, you answered by sucking even harder. I didn't know if you understood what was about to happen, but I was too far gone to care. I just grabbed your hair and thrust myself at you until I exploded. And explode I did. Have you ever seen such a mess? I still get the giggles thinking about it. But you were such a trooper. I know the taste and feel of it in your mouth must have been surprising, but you kept at me the whole time. You probably shouldn't have pulled off quite that fast, though. Although I admit that the sight of your pretty face and hair, with strands of my sperm everywhere was the most erotic sight I have ever seen. And then the shock of Jan knocking on your window, just as you sat up laughing at me! Do you think she could see the mess on your face? God I hope it was too dark for her to see. Thankfully, we had those old towels to clean up with. Next time, you have to swallow all that, you silly girl! It sure would make clean up a lot easier. Just kidding. You know I loved it just the same, if not more somehow.

So, feeling better now? I hope so. I know I do. Just thinking about that again, and then of the things we did later that night gets me all worked up. I still can't get over how much you enjoyed it. I never imagined a girl could react that way. Remember when I licked your pussy, and you put your hand down there too? I loved the sight of your fingers playing with yourself. I especially loved watching you push your fingers inside you, right before my eyes. I never knew that girls played with themselves. I mean, I knew that guys do, hell I do too, but I always thought girls weren't that way. Thank God for you Grace. You have taught me so much.

But this is so much more than just sex, right? I know you love making love just as much, if not more, than I do, but still this is about us, right? I have never hurt the way I do here, when I am all alone. All I can see is your eyes; all I can hear is your voice. I can't sleep. I can't eat. My work is slipping, and my friends ask me what is wrong. But then the night comes. I close my eyes, and take the slip you gave me, and place it over my face, inhaling your scent, and remembering your face. And then, you are there with me. Each of your scented letters, sprayed with a touch of your perfume, provides me another taste of you. I hunger so for you Grace. And I can barely stand the daylight as the breaking dawn erases my vision of your loveliness.

But then I have the weekends. Then, I can hold you, touch you, and taste you. Then I can love you. Till then, I will remain,

Yours,

Ray

As he finished the letter, he turned to Kathleen and asked, "Are you okay with this stuff?"

"Jake," she said, chuckling slightly. "I know that I try to act like Miss Proper over here, but I have read stuff like this before. And believe it or not, I have even seen the occasional dirty movie. But hey, thanks for looking out for me."

Jake blushed, embarrassed by her candid reply. "Like I said, I knew you used to read those Penthouse letters."

"Okay, Inch-High Private Eye, you got me. Guilty as charged."

"Inch-High?" Jake said, acting hurt. "Boy you sure know how to make a guy feel good."

Kathleen laughed at him, and nudged his arm. "Come on lover boy," she teased. "Time for the next chapter."

She took a deep breath, and began to read the next letter. "Well, Mom's next letter was written on January 29, 1970.

Thank you Ray,

That poem is the sweetest thing anyone has ever written for me, and I don't think it is corny, I think it is very romantic. I promise you that I will always keep your letters because each one is special to me.

I was really nervous about taking you into my mouth. That was something that Bill had always wanted me to do. For some reason I just couldn't. The other night, when we were in the car, I don't know what came over me. I knew it would be something you wanted, and because of that I was willing to at least try. I admit, I was pleasantly surprised. I expected to be turned off by the feel or taste of it, but it was quite the opposite. The more I slid you in and out of my mouth, the more it turned me on. Especially when you said you were about to come.

I know I shouldn't have pulled off when I did, but I had a selfish reason for doing it. I wanted to see your cum as it erupted from your cock. Each pump of my hand brought forth more. It was all I could do to keep myself from squealing in delight. It's a good thing I didn't, because I'm sure Jan would have heard me. It was bad enough all the windows were steamed up, but it's a good thing they were. That way she couldn't really see how bad I looked nor the fact that you were still totally exposed. I never laughed so hard in my entire life. You should have seen the look on her face when I told her we were just "talking and stuff". I know she's curious about the 'and stuff' part, but as much as I wanted to blurt out the whole thing to her, I just left her hanging.

Which leads me to another thing you brought up in your letter. Bill. You know you are entirely right when you say I need to tell him. I really don't want to hurt him. But by not telling him, I'm hurting our possible future together.

There was a time, not too long ago, that I thought I knew just exactly what I wanted for my life. Bill and I had everything planned out. Now, in his absence I've done something that he would never forgive me for. Honestly it has nothing to do with the sex you and I have shared, and everything to do with the trust I am betraying, by become emotionally involved with you. I think that if I were to tell him I had sex with someone, he'd understand. After all, distance can make a person realize they have certain urges. It's possible that Bill himself has had sex with some girl. While I can't say that the possibility doesn't bother me, I know the other girl would mean nothing to him, and that it is me he loves. He would still come back to me. But if I were to tell him that I think I've fallen in love with another, I will have broken a trust, a bond between us. For that reason I will tell him in a few weeks when he'll be home again. I need to tell him this in person. Can you understand and forgive me for that? I know you're eager for us to be together totally and not have to hide, but it's just the way it has to be.

Damn, this is so hard being away from you. I can't push you away. I want you too much. I lie awake at night replaying our lovemaking. The night that you started licking my pussy, it felt so good. It was endearing to watch you so tentatively place your head between my legs. The way your tongue traced a wet trail along my thigh working your way to my center. I wanted your mouth on me so badly. Your fingers slowly sliding in and out of me. I could see the wetness on them every time you pulled them out. I had never tasted myself but when you brought your fingers to my lips, I found I wasn't as repulsed by the idea as I thought I was going to be. You tempted and teased me beyond my limits. The licking up and down and the sucking on my clit had me frantic. You are right when you say we've both had some firsts. It was a first for me to play with myself in front of another person. But somehow it felt right. Maybe it was your encouraging words, telling me you wanted to see me doing it, and the hunger I saw in your eyes fueled my excitement. When you told me to finish myself off because you wanted to watch I was about at the end of my rope. I would have done anything you had asked me to. I felt so slutty touching myself, but in a way that only helped to excite me more.

I have to stop writing about it. I'm only making things worse. Thank you for letting me keep your shirt. At night before I go to bed I slip it on. It smells like you, with a slight hint of your aftershave, and for some reason it's comforting. In another week you'll be here with me again. I can't wait. Until then, I'll be dreaming about us.

All my love,

Grace

"Oh my." Kathleen could sense the blush on her face, and felt the warmth from her arousal as well as her embarrassment. She hoped Jake couldn't tell how turned on she was, even though she felt her nipples standing tight with excitement. But her arousal wasn't just from the letters. Oh no. There was something else, wasn't there? She admitted that Jake's presence in her home had more effect on her than the letters. She couldn't stop from glancing his way, admiring the line of his profile, the strength of his shoulders, and yes even the slight bulge in his pants. Her mind began to wander even as Jake took out the next letter and began to read.

But as Ray's words of long ago were heard again, she was suddenly pulled back. Her thoughts of Jake were pushed aside as the implications of the letter were realized. It was time. Time for the truth to come out. Time to know why Grace and Ray ended.

Jake began by reading the date. "It is now February 7, 1970.

Dear Grace,

I don't know if I can finish this. Even now, just starting to write you this letter has me in tears. I cannot come to terms with what has happened to us, and honestly I don't know if I ever will. But that won't make this go away. I tried to run away from you, I tried so hard to end it right then, but here I am again. Somehow, I have to find the strength to tell you how I felt then, and how I feel now. No secrets, right? I hate the sound of that now. In many ways, I wish there were still secrets between us. Maybe then I could still believe in your love. Maybe then, I wouldn't feel the pain that I suffer with now. But the truth cannot be hidden, and the truth must see the light, else we risk losing the good and pure pieces of our love to the forces that have led us here. Maybe our love is worth saving. Maybe.

I have to start at the end. The words I said must be softened, explained some how. I was so stunned, Gracie. And I was utterly crushed. I don't know why exactly. I always knew that you and Bill were together, and I should have understood that you and he were still sleeping together. But I believed in you Grace. I believed that you loved me. Only me. Even though I was the other man, I felt you would be faithful to me. Or maybe I just wished that. I am so confused right now, that I don't know anything. Except this. I still love you, Grace. I didn't mean what I said, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Grace, when you told me you were pregnant, I went crazy. My first thoughts were of complete shock. I couldn't believe it. After all, we only made love that one time without the rubber. I remember you getting your period after that, but somehow I still believed the baby was mine. And as the shock wore off, part of me was happy. I love you so much that it just seemed right. We could be a family. And so, I accepted that. And then you told me the truth, and even though I should have known it all along, I couldn't accept it. When you told me the baby was Bill's, my heart died.

I am so sorry for what I said. Please Grace, can you ever forgive me? You are the farthest thing from a whore that has ever lived. I guess I was so hurt, that I wanted you to hurt too. I was so stupid for not seeing just how much you were already hurting. I refused to see how this pregnancy was your cross to bear, not mine. And like the coward that I am, I just left. Yelling like a madman, and acting so sanctimoniously. But you were the one with honor, Grace. I see that so clearly now.

What do we do now, Grace? Where do we go from here? I have thought about nothing else for days now. I now realize the truth, and the truth is our ticket to paradise. Grace, will you marry me?

I still want you, and I still love you. Nothing has really changed. And I still want us to be a family. Let me be the father, Grace. That child is a part of you, and I can love it just as I love you. We can make it work, I know that we can. We have something special, something that you didn't share with Bill. You know that, and if you stay with him, you will only delay the inevitable. Eventually, your heart will tell you what I am telling you now. That I was the one. The one made especially for you. The baby doesn't change that. Don't make the mistake of staying with him. Don't throw away your chance at true love. God, I would do anything for you, can't you see that? Look at the connection we have. You and your baby deserve a loving man, one who will stand by you always. I am that man, Grace. Bill is not.

Oh, Gracie, how did we end up this way? We started with such promise. The flames of our love grew strong and bright, and they consumed us both. But the flames of love can scar, just as certainly as they warm. And the change can happen so fast. Only last Friday we were making love on your living room floor. Do you remember that night? I never guessed it could be our last time together. The beauty of our union was untouched by our somewhat clumsy movements. Our pleasure was so complete, and yet our future so obscure. And when we came together, I assumed it to be a wonderful omen, a sign of things to come. And then, this. We were so close, so inseparable, and now we have been ripped apart by the currents of destiny.

But we can change them Grace. Life has tossed us in the rapids. It is up to us to decide whether we will succumb to the pull of the eddies, or move to escape them. Take my hand, and move with me, Grace. Please, don't give up. Don't settle for the easy way out. Take my hand.

Yours,

Ray

No words were spoken as Jake finished the letter. Kathleen wiped the tears from her eyes, and began to read Grace's final letter.

"February 10, 1970

Dearest Ray,

This is the hardest thing I've ever had to write. My emotions are turning in so many directions that I'm almost dizzy. As I read your letter I realized that there are still some things I need to try to explain to you. So this will be my final attempt at it.

God, Ray this is so hard to put into words. I guess the best thing to do is to start with the baby. I still can't believe that I'm going to be a mother. How will I ever do this Ray? How can I be expected to be a mother, teaching my child right from wrong, when I can't even make those decisions myself? Especially since the decisions I have made have been so wrong.

You had every right to call me every name you used, and a few I've thought of myself. Whore and slut somehow seem too tame. I am so ashamed Ray. How you can even consider forgiving me is beyond my comprehension. I have to explain what happened. Maybe it will help you to understand why I cannot accept your forgiveness.

Bill came home a few weeks back. It was on a weekend you couldn't be here. I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd be hurt. You have to try to understand. You and I had only known each other for a few weeks; Bill and I have been together for 2 years. I do have deep feelings for him. Until recently I thought what I felt was love. But now I know better. Anyway, Bill came home and we spent some time together. He was all excited about my graduation coming up in a few months, and was talking about all the plans we had made. I should have told him about us right then, but he was so excited and then one thing lead to another. Yes, Ray we did end up having sex. Now I regret it more than anything. It was so strange being with Bill, while I was thinking about you. It was like I was just going through the motions, and I was distracted enough that I didn't initially realize that we were about to have unprotected sex. Bill had always wanted to do it without the rubber and when I didn't speak up just before he entered me, he took it as being what I wanted.

When he finally came inside me, I was crying. He thought it was because I felt a wonderful thing had just happened. Actually I was crying because I knew I was cheating on you. And, admitting the true source of my tears would have meant I would have had to tell him about us. At the time, I wasn't up to fighting that battle.

After he left, I wrote a letter to you, saying I loved you. I had to make that clear to you. I knew the hurt you would feel if you ever found out. So that was the one secret I kept to myself. I hoped that you never would have to find out. I wanted to spare you this pain. But instead of keeping us together this lie I've lived has brought about another life. One that someday soon will be a living, breathing child.

I've thought about it and I've come to a decision, one I'm sure you're not going to like, but one that I have to live with. Abortion is not an option for me. I agree it would make all our lives easier, but I can't do it. It wasn't the baby's fault that I'm in this mess. I've brought it on myself, and now I have to try to make the best of it. This is the part that hurts me the most to say. I can't marry you Ray. Bill is this baby's father. It is his right to help raise and to love this child, our child. I will be marrying Bill as soon as we can arrange it. He loves me and will provide for the baby and I.

I know you think I'm making the wrong decision. You may be correct. God knows I've made wrong one's before. But this time I'm going to try to do what is right. To not think of me and my wants, but to think of this baby and its needs. I'm going to do what my family expects me to do. In time, I may come to love Bill as much as he loves me. I owe him that much after what I've done. I have to make an attempt.

I'm not worthy of you, Ray. As much as I do love you, I still don't merit your love or forgiveness.

It's almost ironic that you'll probably receive this letter on Valentine's Day. The one day reserved for lovers. I only have one request of you. Please forget about me. Leave the pain behind, and find someone who is worthy of your love. Someone you can trust. Someone you can love with your entire heart and soul, and someone who can return that love triple fold. I wish only the best for you, Ray. God knows, you deserve it. You are a wonderful, giving man. I cherish these few weeks we've had together. I will always love you.

Grace

The story was almost complete. Jake's thoughts were in a million directions as he weighed the consequences of the last letter. How could fate be so cruel? Just as they had found each other, the wheels of destiny had turned once again, crushing them both as it continued its journey.

"Is that it?" he asked.

Kathleen cleared her throat. "Yes, I think so." As she turned the page, an envelope dropped to the floor. She reached down and picked it up, examining the postmark and the address printed on the front.

"Jake, look at this." She handed him the letter. It was addressed to Mrs. Grace O'Brien, and the words "Return to Sender" had been stamped across the front. The letter was still sealed. Jake held it to the light, and looked at Kathleen.

"It's another letter. But this one was never opened. Should we . . . read it?"

Kathleen hesitated, frightened by what could be inside. Again, she felt guilty, imagining she was betraying a sacred trust. But they had come too far to stop now.

"Yes," she said. "I think we should."

"All right." Jake took his finger and slid it under the flap, opening the letter for the first time in twenty-eight years.

"It's from Dad, and it is dated July 22, 1970. I guess Grace never saw this."

For the last time, Jake began to read. The words weighed on his soul as the letter's contents were told.

Dear Grace,

I hope that this letter finds you in good health and spirits, with your pregnancy continuing uneventfully. I have been thinking about you lately, and decided to write. This is the only way I know how to find you. I know you don't want to see me again, and I can't say I blame you for that. After all, you are a married woman now. And it just wouldn't be proper to be seen with an old lover. Still, I have to try one more time to make you see the light. This will be my last attempt. Please, at least consider it.

Despite the way we ended, Grace, I know the truth. When I saw you in town last weekend, I could see the truth in your eyes. The truth that you still love me. As you walked in the store with Bill at your side, you caught me staring from across the street. The look in your eyes was heartbreaking. But then, for a brief instant, your face brightened, and I could see your lovely smile. Your eyes spoke to me. They assured me that despite the different paths we have chosen, your heart still walks with mine. Isn't that the truth, Grace? If not, why weren't you smiling that way with Bill? Why doesn't your face light up when you hold his hand? I know why. You love me, that's why. Just as I love you, my sweet Gracie.

Grace, we can still make this work. You can have the marriage annulled. We could move far away from Minnesota and start again. You, me, and your child. I can give you so much, Grace. I can give you the home you long for and the love you crave. I can be the father you want for your baby. Anything you want me to be, I am ready to be.

Please come see me, Grace. I am leaving in a month, and I don't know if I will return. There are just too many memories of you. I need a change in scenery, and I wish you would come with me. Together, we can dance again, before the music ends. Please don't let the music end. I can't bear the thought of dancing alone.

Just me, your lonely Valentine,

Ray

Jake set the letter on the neat stack at his side. "Well, that's it," he said, with an obvious look of disbelief. "What do you think? Is this what you expected?"

Kathleen had been crying again, as the terrible story reached its heartbreaking conclusion. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she spoke. "You know Jake, I have known the circumstances of my parents marriage for a long time now. Even the part about her unplanned pregnancy with me. After all, it doesn't take a genius to figure it out when your birthday is a mere seven months from your parent's anniversary. But until I discovered the letters, I didn't know anything about this other man."

Jake took her hand as she continued. "I have always suspected that my parents had some huge terrible secret that kept them apart. And now, I think I know what it was. Mother never really loved my Dad. I guess I knew that all along, but I never knew why."

Still looking at her intertwined fingers she continued. "I had only read your father's first two letters until today. It just didn't feel right, so I'm as surprised by the turn of events as you. But as we got to the part about my mother's pregnancy and read Ray's final letter, I couldn't imagine why she wouldn't have gone with him. They were so much in love. I assumed he must have changed his mind. I almost hated him for that. Now that I've heard her reply, I'm stunned. Think about it. I could have been raised in a loving family, instead of one that only went through the motions."

She met Jake's eyes with softened concern. "What about your family Jake? What about your mother? Do you think she knew all this?"

"My parents were divorced the year I turned eighteen. You know I'm an only child. There were signs of unhappiness between them as long as I can remember. Dad and I talked about it a little near the end. He admitted they had stayed together because of me. They felt it was best to remain a family for my sake. But I always knew things weren't right.

"The strange thing is that Dad confessed on several occasions that he didn't love my mother, although she had been a good wife. I was so confused. I wondered why they didn't divorce, but I didn't feel it was something to dwell on near the end. I assumed he would tell me if he wanted me to know. The other thing that surprises me is he kept these letters even when he knew he was dying. He had to know that I would eventually find them. I wonder why he didn't get rid of them. You know, it's almost like he knew this would happen. Like he was leaving clues to help me understand his past."

Again, Kathleen moved to Jake's side, and said in a whisper, "But now we know the whole story, even more than my mother ever knew. Oh God, Jake, . . . it is just too much . . ."

She buried her face in his chest, and began to sob again, her body shaking as the sadness broke her resolve. Jake held her tightly, stroking her back and whispering to her.

"Oh Kathleen, it's okay. I know exactly what you are feeling. But, they at least knew the love they shared. They couldn't fulfill that love, but they recognized it as true, and they obviously held on to that love all their lives. You see, they were lucky. At least they had that much. Some people never get the chance to know true love. Look at me, for instance."

Kathleen lifted her head, wiping her eyes as she looked at Jake. "What do you mean?"

"Isn't it obvious? Here I am, almost thirty years old, with no kids or a wife. And the sad part is, I've never been in love. Not once. I've had girlfriends, but never anything close to what my Dad and your Mom shared. So who is the one that hasn't lived?"

Kathleen put her hand on top of his and squeezed. "Don't say that. It's not too late, Jake," she said. "You just haven't met . . . you know . . . the right girl yet. But she's out there, and one day, you will find her. Just as your Dad found her. I only wish I could be someone's girl. You know, you aren't alone. They say a girl has a better chance of getting struck by lightning than finding a husband after age thirty."

Jake couldn't help himself. Despite her drying tears, and her sincere wishes, the old struck by lightning analogy was just too much. He started to giggle, and tried to hide his laughter by coughing and clearing his throat. Kathleen noticed this, and was also struck with a untimely case of the giggles. Within seconds, both were laughing. Their melancholy lifted and they found the familiar comfort once again.

After a few minutes, the laughter faded, but the silence that followed wasn't the least bit uncomfortable. Once again, Jake found himself drawn to her quiet beauty, her strength of character, and her unyielding resolve. He had only known her for a few hours, and yet he felt he had known her all his life. And suddenly, a familiar feeling emerged. He remembered the flight earlier that day, and once again he felt the comforting pull of destiny. He could see his control fade, replaced by a knowledge that destiny was right. Despite his better instincts, the ones that had served him faithfully for all these years, he acted on the impulse that now consumed him. He took Kathleen's chin, and turned her mouth to his. In that one instant, as they kissed again, he abandoned the careful, thoughtful man that had walked in Kathleen's door, in favor of a new one. A man not afraid to take a chance, or to act on a whim. A man not afraid to take destiny's hand. A man not afraid to love.

This time the kiss tasted not of sadness, but of passion. They kissed with the hunger of old lovers, reuniting after years apart. And, as the heat between them grew, Jake realized what he had found. He could sense the willingness in Kathleen's urgent movements as she darted her tongue in his mouth, daring him to taste her. The emotions of the day spilled over, and turned in a new and exciting direction. Jake knew the moment couldn't end until they were complete. As Jake pushed her down on the couch, he looked into her eyes. She smiled, slightly nodding her head in a gesture of surrender. No words were needed to express her desire. She needed him, right then. She needed to be taken.

Kathleen pulled him to her, gently removing his shirt as she kissed his powerful shoulders. Once his shirt had been removed, they continued the kiss as she ran her nails lightly across his back. Jake could feel her need as she opened her legs to him, slowly grinding her hips as she lifted them from the couch. He could feel her mound as she pushed against his hardening cock. He raised up to look at her, as she lifted her shirt over her head. Her breasts pushed against the thin material of her bra, and he reached down to release the center snap. Once freed from the tight confines, her lovely mounds spilled out, her twin points of excitement screaming for attention. Immediately, he placed a hand on her, caressing the soft flesh in his hand. As he kneaded her, he lowered his lips to the hard little nub, kissing the tip ever so gently. His lips encircled her delicate point, and Kathleen moaned her approval.

Jake continued the loving appraisal of her magnificent chest, pausing now and then to take in the sight of her loveliness. Her hair was spilled across the cushions, and she continued the suggestive movements of her hips. He could barely contain his lust, and soon he gave in completely as he reached down to unsnap her jeans. Kathleen was also losing the battle to contain her passions, assisting him by grabbing the waistband of her jeans and pulling them from her hips, along with the white cotton panties. She was now completely naked and exposed to him, and the final battle was lost as he placed his hand on her knee and spread her legs apart. There was no resistance to his advances as her legs were opened, exposing her glistening core to his piercing gaze. Jake's eyes took in the beauty of her hips, and the secret place at the tops of her thighs. The fine red hair surrounding her pussy was already damp from her excitement, and she felt the kiss of cool air as her labia were parted with the opening of her thighs.

Immediately, his hands moved in a slow journey upwards, sending shivers through her body as they approached her center. She couldn't wait, and a single word escaped her lips, "Please."

Jake felt the warmth, before he sensed the touch. As his finger grazed her open cunt, he stroked the length of her slit, wetting his touch, and easing his descent into her depths. He pushed in one, then two fingers, marveling at how smooth and soft she felt as the fingers parted the soft flesh. He pushed inside until he could no longer advance, and then he held still. Kathleen assured him his presence was welcome by rhythmically contracting her muscles around him. He rubbed her clit with his thumb, searching for the touch that would ignite her inner fire. And suddenly, she was there. Impossibly fast it seemed, and yet, it served to strengthen his passion for her. As she cried out her orgasm, he lowered his face to her twitching pussy.

Jake felt her contractions with his tongue tip, as he tasted her. Finally, he knew her. As he consumed her secretions, he couldn't get enough of her. All that mattered was this pussy, and all he wanted was to please her. She surrounded him completely. Her scent was everywhere, and she tasted as sweet as she smelled. He now lapped at her in a frenzy, wanting to drink her fluids as she arched her back and encouraged his assault.

As he drove his tongue into her steaming depths, she cried out once again, announcing her pleasure as her orgasm spilled from her. Then, as her contractions subsided, Jake raised his face from her pussy, and moved up to look at her. Her eyes were tightly closed, and her breathing was beginning to slow from the rapid pants of her climax. He couldn't resist her and softly pressed his lips to hers. Immediately they embraced, sharing the taste of her love as their tongues met once again. Her hands moved to his belt, and as the kiss continued, she removed it, while opening the snap and zipper of his pants. Her hands continued their work, pulling the trousers from his hips. Jake shuddered as her small hands finally reached his cock, squeezing the shaft through his cotton underwear. Finally, she broke their kiss, allowing Jake to rise from the couch and stand before her.

Kathleen moved off the couch, and sat on her knees in front of him. She leaned forward, gently kissing and nipping at the inside of his thighs. Her hands resumed their playful squeezes, and within minutes, she pulled off his shorts, freeing the object of her attention. His cock stood tall and full, the tip pointing at her nose. She leaned forward, kissing the tip lightly, lingering over him for several seconds. As she kissed his cock, she opened her mouth, allowing just the head to slip inside. As her lips circled the crown, she paused, flicking her tongue across the thick head now captured in her mouth.

Jake could barely stand the exquisite torture of her slow and deliberate movements. He longed to thrust his member down her throat, and he ached for the firm, rapid movements he loved. But, Kathleen had other plans. She intended to tease him, to drive him to the very edge, yet not allowing him the release he sought. She continued to hold just the head with her lips, coating the head with her delicate licks. Then, she added her hands to the action, cupping his balls with one while slowly jacking his shaft with the other. Jake took her head in his hands, and tried to push himself inside, but Kathleen moved with him, keeping only the head in her mouth.

"Please, Kathleen," Jake said, panting with desire. "Please, I can't stand it. Come on, baby, take it. Suck it hard. Come on."

Kathleen smiled, knowing she had done exactly what she had wanted. He was on the brink of a total loss of control. All that mattered, was to come. He would have done anything to obtain his release, and Kathleen was now ready to give it to him. Suddenly, she attacked his cock with a passion. She pulled her mouth from him, and began to jack his shaft with long steady strokes. She pulled on him, coaxing fluid from the tiny opening, and licking the glistening drops as they emerged. Jake felt the familiar sensation rise from his belly. The urgent need of release. He reached the point of no return, and held back as long as possible. By now, she was pounding his cock, working at a ferocious pace. She felt his balls tighten in her hands, and opened her mouth in anticipation of the impending flood. And then it was upon her.

With a short cry, Jake exploded. His cum streamed from his cock, the forceful spurts launching through the air, coating her lovely face and tongue in a creamy bath of love. His knees buckled, and he almost fell against her as his orgasm continued. She immediately took his twitching cock in her mouth again, consuming the last remnants of his cum as she bobbed on him. Jake looked on in awe as she continued to play with him. Even after he had softened, she continued to play, coaxing him back to life with her eager attentions. In a matter of minutes, Jake felt his shaft begin to thicken again, his long cock straightening out in her warm mouth. As the swelling continued, his cock was forced from her mouth, until he was solid again. Only then did she move from her knees.

Kathleen turned around, electing to remain on her knees. She presented her backside to him, wiggling it slightly, inviting his attention. Jake knew what to do, and moved into position behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, taking her breasts in his hands as she reached down to guide his cock to her dripping pussy. As she placed the head to her opening, she leaned back, forcing the invader inside. Jake felt her heat wrap around him as her pussy surrounded him. The soft walls caressed him as he moved inside her. Faster, then faster still, they moved. Jake fucked her with long, forceful strokes, causing her to moan in sheer delight. He sensed her need for more, and began to roughly pull and twist on her stiff nipples. As he continued the barrage with his cock and fingers, she added her own special touch to the mix. Her hand snaked to join in their union, and Jake could feel her caress his shaft as it plunged in and out of her steaming core. The sensations were incredible, but the part he enjoyed the most was the vision of loveliness before him.

She was receiving his thrusts with her shapely hips, and he could see the glistening shaft between her cheeks. Her smoothly muscled back was arched, allowing a straight penetration to a depth that drove them both to the brink. Her soft moans had evolved into the strangled cries of unbearable pleasure as her fingers brought her to another climax. Jake could feel her clamp around him, unbelievably tight, and the force to open her cunt provided the final stimulation that he needed. He lunged at her, ramming his stiff flesh into her as she screamed her approval. Within seconds, he arrived. His cock expanded as he shot a hot, creamy load of cum deep inside her tortured pussy. On and on it went, filling her completely, until he finally collapsed on her back. Together, they rolled to the floor, his cum leaking from her as his cock slipped out. He could feel its warmth on his thigh as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

They remained locked in the tender embrace, as they regained their composure. Jake tenderly kissed the top of her head, as she gently held his soft cock in her hand. She didn't move, electing only to hold him, cradling his cock in her small hand.

"Oh, God, Jake. That was beautiful. Thank you so much."

Jake smiled at her. "Anytime. I'm glad I could help"

She giggled at his teasing comment. "Yes, you certainly did help. I don't think I could have done that myself, do you?"

"Not unless you are very flexible."

"Just wait. I may have a few surprises yet."

Again they fell into a comfortable silence. As Jake held her, the events of the past three days rolled through his mind. How far he had come to be here, with her. He had, in a strange sense, been reborn. Everything had changed, and he knew the reason. But he couldn't sit still with the knowledge in his head. He had to tell her. He had to know if, she too, felt the connection.

"No secrets, right?" he whispered.

Kathleen turned her head to look at him. "What?"

"That was their pledge. No secrets. It was a pledge of love, but it was also a pledge destined to doom their love," Jake explained. "Tell me, Kathleen, how do you feel? Right now, this very second."

She considered his question, then replied, "I feel . . . contented. I feel . . . happy, I guess."

"Yes, that's exactly it. I feel the same way. Do you know why I feel that way?"

"No. Tell me."

"Their love wasn't doomed. Their love wasn't in vain. Although they never knew the result of the pledge, they also promised to keep their letters, and to never forget. The love they shared still breathes. It breathes even now, as I inhale your scent. They wrapped their hearts in paper, and together we opened the gift they left behind. It was the gift of love, Kathleen. No secrets, right?"

"All right then, no secrets. Tell me, Jake. Tell me what I long to hear."

"The love they left behind lives again. It lives through us. I love you, Kathleen. I know that it can't be possible, but I do. I have only known you for a few hours, but I know this without a doubt. You are the girl I have always wanted. The girl of my dreams. You are the one."

Kathleen began to cry again, and for a moment Jake was confused. But his confusion faded as she spoke.

"Oh, God Jake. This is so crazy, but I love you too. Somehow, I have loved you since I saw you this morning. But how can we possibly make this work? You live so far away and . . ."

Jake silenced her with a kiss. As their passions rose once again, Kathleen climbed on top, sinking his hardness deep inside once again. This time, neither moved. They touched each other all over, their hands gliding across one another as their eyes confirmed the love of their hearts. And, as they began to move, Jake felt a satisfaction he had never known. Somehow, he knew his father was smiling down at him. Somewhere, he was certain that his father was dancing. Dancing with a lovely young girl he had once called "Gracie".

As Kathleen took him in her arms, he whispered in her ear, "I love you Grace."

Her reply seemed to rise from the decades past, as the paper hearts made long ago were finally opened.

"I love you too, Ray"

THE END

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