Loosing Cindy

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I’m not sure why I went into the Adult Book and Toy store on Jefferson boulevard. I had only been there once before. It was with a couple of buddies the summer after graduation, a long time ago. The place back then thrived as half sex shop half head shop tended by both male and female clerks. We were young and wild in the shop. A rich selection of colorfully lit exotic and erotic merchandise was arranged on shelves and cabinets. Danny kept turning on the battery operated dildo demonstrator models hanging in a row on beaded chains. “Hey Jack,” Danny would say, “Look at this one,” and, Feel this one!” “No, I’m not gonna…” “Seriously Jack, feel this thing, it moves!” There were a few viewing booths in the back. Frank and Danny and me crammed into one and dropped two quarters into the slot to begin watching a not-so-pretty blonde being spit roasted by one white and one black guy. It was beyond anything we imagined. We were laughing and whistling at the screen for only a few moments before a skinny ferret of a guy with stringy mullet hair came over, pointing out the ‘One to a booth ‘ sign on each door. Things were different now for both me and the Jefferson boulevard store. Everything had changed for me, and for a store ravaged by the Internet the priorities of space had been completely reversed. Two display counters near the front door held a small electronic cash register. An obese middle aged woman wearing what appeared to be a wig, Doris Day blonde, sat on a stool behind the counters smoking a cigarette and talking on the phone. Haphazardly displayed behind the glass was a small collection of dildos. Two self-standing condom displays were close by. Plastic sex toys in blister packaging and zip-lock bags lined one wall. A couple of low cabinets held DVDs for sale on one side and rentals on the other. The rest of the place had given way to private viewing booths lining both sides of two narrow aisles like large gymnasium lockers. The only other person I saw was a skinny middle aged guy leaning up against the first locker on the far left cleaning his fingernails with a small Erenköy escort pocket knife. A sign above each aisle said, “Pay Before Entering”. “How much for a booth?” I asked the fat lady. “Hold on,” she said into the phone before putting it down. “Straight or Gay?” “Straight, does it matter?” “Nah handsome, it don’t matter,” she said, throwing a subtle smile, “Just curious. Fifteen for ten minutes, a half hour is thirty. Time starts when you close the door. Straight movies to the right, gay one’s down the left.” “Jesus, must be some pretty good movies.” “You can get movies on your phone.” “Yeah, I know.” I put thirty dollars on the counter. “I think you’ll like the second to last booth on the left side of that right aisle.” —-—————- After two years of community college I just couldn’t go on. I had felt just as lost as when I finished high school. I enlisted hoping to find something substantial. I married Cindy, a girl from the neighborhood, before I left for basic. She just graduated two years behind me, suddenly beautiful. Cindy had grown up a tom-boy and as she became a woman, developed a self-conscious habit of drawing her long yellow hair forward of her shoulders to drape over her still unaccustomed to breasts. It was a hopeless gesture. She remained radiantly on display, all skinny legs and arms barely covered in cut-offs and tube tops or damn, those cropped-tees she knew I liked. Her soft round boobs were delightfully misplaced on such a thin girl. Even her thick yellow hair couldn’t hide them. There was a graduation party in someone’s back yard for a couple of the graduating kids. By the end of it Cindy had picked me, there was no denying it. Maybe it was because I was going away or maybe because I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I walked her home. Along the way she kissed me with an open and passionate intensity I have never experienced before or since. Beginning the next day we did everything together. She already knew about sex but we both learned more. We watched a lot of porn together that summer. She bought new DVDs all içerenköy escort bayan the time, calling them our “How-to vids”. Sex was like her shiny new toy. Cindy would look at me like I was some sort of prince. That she didn’t know how beautiful and sexy she was made it hard for me not to fall deeply in love with her. We got married in late August with two weeks to spare. She postponed going to college. I was more excited than scared about the military, but if something happened to me I wanted her to get my pension. Images of her from that summer carried me all the way through basic. She wrote me every day. Usually it was everyday stuff about our friends and the neighborhood. Sometimes though she’d describe in detail something she promised we’d do the next time we were together again. She’d always end those letters with: “Gave you a boner didn’t I? XXOO :)” I’d take my change to the commissary and call her as often as I could. I wrote back every now and then but mostly I needed to hear her voice even if only for a few minutes. After basic I had some time home before deployment. Cindy and I slept together in her parents basement. We talked about her going to college. She could get student loans for whatever tuition we couldn’t afford, which was most of it. She wanted to become an elementary school teacher. Her parents promised to help as much as they could. If they knew how we tore the skin off each other down in the basement they might have thought her unfit. Even after falling asleep in exhaustion I’d often awake a few hours later with Cindy working my limp dick with her mouth until I was ready to go again. She did amazing things with her mouth but what she loved most was to straddle me like a cowgirl, to feel the full length of me up inside her as she ground down hard against me one minute and cantered the next with her gorgeous tits gyrating. After all the sex we had earlier, she knew that she could relax into orgasm after orgasm without concern about me blowing my load before she got her fill. Becoming an Army Ranger changed Escort Tuzla everything. The training was intense, the assignments even more so. Days would pass without a thought of Cindy. I was B-team most of my first tour, A-team all of my second. The intensity kept increasing. It was intoxicating and addicting. I re-enlisted. Home after my second enlistment, Cindy begged me not to return for a third. She was a teacher. I didn’t have to go. She pleaded, “So why?” “Because I need to go,” I insisted, “The country needs me, my team needs me.” My head was messed up. “I need you!” We argued. Cindy said she would not, could not wait anymore. She wanted a divorce. The worry was torture. “Not till I get back,” I said, “In case something happens.” If she still wanted a divorce when I got back I promised I’d give her the damn divorce, thinking it would never come to that. I went for my third enlistment. Things did not go well. I’ve been home for over two years now. Cindy didn’t wait. She had made up her mind the day I left. The first time I saw her upon my return took my breath away. Filled in but still fit and trim her skin glowed beautifully. She was poised and confident. Her hair, more golden than yellow, stopped at her neck. Cindy dated a number of men while I was gone. Eventually she settled down with Frank, my childhood friend. My former friend. He was a science teacher. She reminded me that she had warned me she couldn’t wait. She told me Frank had a kid but the little girl lived with her mother. Cindy lived with Frank. All this I had known, Danny kept me informed. Within six months of my return she filed for divorce. I dragged my feet, but before the year was up it went through. I wanted to go back to Afghanistan, but that door had been closed too. At least I received an honorable discharge. I was back to feeling lost. I dated a number of women and mistreated all of them. I felt disdain for the ones that liked it and nothing for the women who didn’t. I wanted the sex but none of the attachment. Soon dating was just too much of a bother. I started hanging out at bars, usually with Danny but sometimes I’d pick up one night stands. That too wore thin so I often pushed away from the bar after a couple of beers, said goodnight to Danny and headed home alone. One night while still on our first beer Danny said from out of the blue, “She’s not happy.” “She made her choice,” I said.

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