  Excerpt from:  "Thursday Tea"  by kwilli

Edna

Edna looked around the room at the other ladies, each lost in thought.  She was no different, she thought of her own life, a life filled with adversity, pain, longing, and an illicit love affair.

She held the cup to her lips and smelled the sweet aroma of the tea she was drinking.  No wonder they say that tea is more soothing than coffee.  Today she was drinking a raspberry flavored tea.  The cinnamon scone enhanced the flavor, leaving a wonderful experience of savory delight on her pallet. 

Returning to her thoughts, she had married a man who was much older, and she was now widowed and had been for many years.

In her day, you just didn’t lay down with a man, he courted you, brought you flowers and candy, you went to a movie house, restaurants on Friday and Saturday for a fish dinner with home fries, or sweet potato pie that made your mouth water, rides to the park or in the country. 

She fell in love, in his presence, her heart beat out a rhythm she never knew. She became warm and felt faint whenever he would touch her hand. His kisses, which were sometimes rough, sent a pleasant sensation down her spine.  Little did she know then that she had nothing to compare his kisses to. “Does this feeling lead to more,” she wondered. She wanted the experience of being with Les.  She wanted to please him as he had pleased her with gifts of chocolate turtles, and other treats. Mostly, she wanted happiness like she saw in the movies or in the magazines.  She wanted a husband who would love her and give her children, and a nice home.  She would have dinner ready for him when he returned home from the steel mill, his house slippers at the ready and his pipe filled with tobacco.  She would make his home life perfect. She would always be ready to serve her man, whatever he wanted, she would provide.

The years passed and the love waned, Les drank more and more, and he paid less attention to her,  and in retrospect, she now knew that it wasn’t love at all.  It had never been love on his part.  He needed a maid, someone to do his bidding, and he was willing to pay for what he needed.  When she realized this, her heart began to turn cold toward him.

It was during her marriage to Les that she actually fell in love.  It was unexpected, and he was her husband’s friend.  His name was Carter. He worked with Les at the mill. They were Lodge brothers and attended the same church, and he would visit with them, just dropping in from time to time.  He would come around dinner time having been invited by Les.  Though she was not prepared for a guest, she didn’t mind Carter.  He was friendly, clean, and upright, he always smelled like Old Spice, and he didn’t drink or smoke, his manners were admirable, unlike Les, and she began to take more and more notice of him, and he noticed her.

Carter would watch her as she moved around the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal.  Nothing fancy, but to Carter, a bachelor, it was a gourmet meal. With his soft spoken voice, he would comment on the meal, always praising her and thanking her for her hospitality. He would offer to help with the dishes, or clean up the table, while Les walked away into the living room to watch the evening news and to doze after eating a heavy meal.  Les was either unaware of the attraction between the two of them, or, he didn’t care.

Les was 58 when they married, and she was barely 21.  She didn’t know about sex, she was a good Christian girl and wanted to save herself for marriage.  She had fought off many a young man’s advances, their hands like octopus tentacles, seeking regions of her body that not even she had explored. 

Les seemed patient and kind, and he courted her. She mistook all of his attentions as love, but she would not know this until after they were married, and they settled into everyday life. She was never bored taking care of her home and put a lot of effort into maintaining a peaceful retreat.  She turned his plain house into an oasis of comfort.  He never complained and he never complemented or thanked her for her efforts. The pretty curtains and pillows she sewed didn’t mean anything to him. It was the same with her cooking.  She would try various recipes in an attempt to change things up, she added new dishes often, he would suck them down without any thought.

Time passed and it came to be expected that Carter would share many meals with them.  She anticipated his visits, touching his hands in the warm dishwater sent a chill up her spine and he stroked her soapy hands, she would stand stock still while he worked his magic.  She didn’t protest. He would sometimes stand behind her pressing into her body and she would move as if they were dancing, no words were spoken, just his hot breath on her neck or nibbling on her ear.  He wanted her and she could feel it in his body as she leaned back into him. The sometimes daily love dance became more and more heated as her body responded to his every move.  She looked forward to this part of the evening without shame.

Les was totally oblivious to the carryings on in the kitchen, his snoring alerted them that he was dead to the world. While he slept, her world began to change in a most wonderful way. The kitchen was the place where Carter would finally take her.

Standing behind her as was their usual position, he began rubbing her behind and raised her skirt.  She was without panties hoping that the day would come when they would join together, he was mildly surprised and gently turned her around, smiled down into her face, and lifted her to him.

She could hear the loud snoring of Les in the next room as she softly moaned in Carter’s ear, her hands stroking and touching him.  He held her tightly like he never wanted to let her go. She could feel his body shiver in delight as they began to move in unison. Their soft moans were the music that they moved to.

Their affair continued for years, with stolen moments when they could lie together when Les worked overtime at the mill.  Carter was her husband.  Les had stopped touching her as he aged, sex was less frequent, two, maybe three times a year, but with Carter, it only increased.

When Les died many years later, she and Carter maintained their habit of sharing dinner and washing the dishes.  They shared her bed in the evenings, their loving remained passionate all these years, and he would always leave before daylight.  They never married, but to this day, he is her man. 

She looked over the rim of the tea cup and a smile crossed her lips as she looked at the ladies talking.  No one knew her secret love, and they never would.