Innocent Milf

Epilogue: 2025

Epilogue: 2025

I stretched and leaned back and forth in my office chair, sick to death of grading essays. The slanting light of the late afternoon tinted my study a ruddy gold where the dusty sunbeams struck. The strings of multiple mandolins, banjos, and even a 12-string guitar scintillated in a wire-wrapped glitter from their hooks on the wall. I had promised myself that I would get to take one down and play it once I had gotten through half of these papers.

Cary stepped lightly through the door. "How's it going, love?"

I smiled at her. "Suddenly better."

I spun my chair and pulled her into my lap. She giggled as I ran my hand through her hair--a single pale lock had grown through her beautiful auburn cascade over the years. I twiddled it between my fingers and she frowned playfully. "Don't pay attention to those hairs. They're rebels."

I brushed her cheek and kissed her. "If it really bothers you that much, you could color it. But I think it looks fetching."

She sighed. "I'dknow it was there underneath." She wriggled her bottom against me lap. "As long as it doesn't bother you." She put her hands in my hair. "And look at you, my handsome guy. That silver in there really makes you look distinguished."

"It makes me look fifty," I grunted. "Anyway, next time I say that I miss teaching and I'm sick of Chair meetings, remind me that it involves grading English 101 essays by kids who think that emojis are punctuation and have rarely read a book that doesn't have a power switch."

"Listen to you, grumpy!" Cary flicked her tongue across the tip of my nose. "Thinking of going back to journalism?"

I snorted. "These days? No thanks. A few solid years was good enough for me. I'd rather do grad school again."

"Sounds like somebody could use some stress relief," Cary suggested, wobbling her shoulders back and forth a little.

I grinned. Our son was planning to come visit in a few days, but we still had the house to ourselves for a bit. Every room and piece of furniture in it had long since been Christened by us since moving here in 2021, but we had some favorites. I snaked a hand around Cary's waist, letting my fingers probe under her green silk blouse. "I'm soooo super stressed right now. You have no idea. I coulddefinitelyuse some relief."

"Don't get metoodisreputable-looking," she admonished, with very little steel in her voice. "We still have dinner with Jack and Eun-Ju later."

Jack had surprised everybody by moving back to Korea for five years after he graduated. There he met and married Gim Eun-Ju. We Three Musketeers kept in touch via email when he was over there. They'd been back in the States for years, and we saw them almost every year now. Jack still speaks phenomenal Korean (although his in-laws will never admit it), and he still loves knives. He's added Korean BBQ to his list of cuisine that he is ridiculously adept at making. I always pretend to love it when he makes it.

I languidly tugged at the ties closing the front of Cary's blouse. "No Ken?" Jack's irrepressible son turned twenty this year--a really important birthday for Jack's wife Eun-Ju.

Cary smirked at my transparent fiddling and stood up. "Not this time. All right, come on, you." She turned and started to saunter down the hall towards our bedroom, shedding little bits of clothing as she went. I watched her move with delighted appreciation. By the time she had turned forty-five, I teased her about being a sorceress, since she showed no apparent signs of aging. Even now people often mistook us for the same age--and I wasn't aging badly.

I kicked my shoes off, careful not to let them thump against the wall where my mandolins hung. By the time I reached our bedroom, Cary was already stretched out on the bed in her favorite purple satin bra and panties. I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, ho. Looks likesomebodywas planning to get into trouble tonight, anyway," I smiled.

Cary slowly ran the toes of one foot up her other calf and pointed at me with her foot. "You, sir, are still wearing far too much clothing. Big important professor or not, you won't be needing any of that in here."

I stripped down and moved over towards her, kissing and licking whatever presented itself to me as I made my way up towards her giggling mouth. She sighed happily as we kissed, and I pulled her close to me. Secure in my arms, she pushed herself as close as she could to me.

"This is my favorite place to be," she purred. "I'm so happy to be married to you."

I toyed with her gold bracelet--still on her wrist thirty years after I had given it to her. Rather than answer her, I covered her mouth with another kiss and started unfastening her bra. She smiled into my kiss and wriggled out of her underwear. All these years later, she still makes cute mewling hiccups when she orgasms--at least our house is big enough that we aren't worried about disturbing the neighbors.

Relaxing afterwards into each other's embrace, I stroked Cary's back. She murmured contentedly into my chest. I frowned. "What?"

"I said, now we'll have to shower again."

"Worth it," I proclaimed. "Now I'm relaxed, and I don't even remember what I was annoyed about to begin with."

Cary stood and walked naked towards the bathroom. "Come on, love." She grinned teasingly. "And it was student papers."

I rolled my eyes. "I know. I just don't care. Get in there, sexy."

Getting dressed and laughing at each other felt the same in 2025 as it had in 1994. I occasionally marvel at how much in love we both still are; Jenna, Sascha, and Ty have all been married and divorced multiple times. And the divorce rate of my former colleagues at theSunset Gazettehad made me seriously wonder whether they all suffered from some sort of collective personality disorder. Even at the college where I've worked since my thirties, Cary and I have one of the longest-lasting marriages amongst the staff.

Cary picked up her phone and glanced at a message on it. "Oh! Annie got the job!"

"Great news," I answered happily. Annie had ended up with a fractured radius and ulna after Eric had destroyed my old car with her in it. She had to wear a cast for a month and a half, learning to do things with her left hand very quickly. She still shows off her ambidextrous skills at every chance she can. Her therapist had a lot to work with for some years, but she got through it.

"She also saysalasenyanna," Cary read from her phone with a frown. "Is this more of her Elvish?"

I tugged my shirt on, racking my brain. "I think it means 'happy.'" Annie had gotten really into theLord of the Ringswhen the movies were released years ago. During college she had decided to learn Quenya--one of the many languages from that whole universe. It was hard for me to make too much fun of it for as much as I lovedDuneandWizard of Earthsea.

Our dalliance together had set us a little behind, so Cary and I had to hustle out the door as soon as we were dressed. The Arizona heat made jackets unnecessary, even on an October evening. I held the door for her as always and closed it behind her as she got into the car. As we drove, my phone pinged, bringing up a message from Aaron on the dash display. Cary smiled. "Ah, it must be that time of month again," she teased.

Aaron and I still keep up pretty regularly--we have a sort of standing engagement to call and chat for an hour each month to see how the other is doing. He teaches Japanese History at a University, so we also joke about how he teaches at a 'real' college while I teach at a two-year college. He took upkendo, and reached fourthdanbefore settling back into a fairly relaxed, philosophical attitude about the sport. By bizarre coincidence, his wife Tara is involved in the history re-creation group that got me interested in lutes when I was little kid. We still recommend movies to each other all the time, and agree that the 2021 adaptation ofDunewas pretty good.

The restaurant was one of those trendy spots that artistically tries to challenge your preconceptions of what constitutes "food." Its main chef was on one of those cooking competition shows a few years ago--I think it wasTop Chef. Cary and I had both agreed that it would be fun to meet Jack and Eun-Ju there--mostly to see Jack's annoyance. Their Kia was already in the parking lot, so we knew we were in for mild censure at being "late" (i.e., only slightly early.)

The waiter showed us to our table. If you compared Jack to his high school yearbook pictures, you might not be able to place him except by his eyes. Always a little taller and more muscular than me, he now looks like a beefy wrestler that has gone a little soft around the middle. He went grey a little faster than me; my ash-brown hair is now more ash than brown, but his dark hair shows off the grey than mine. He still has the same dark eyes that seem to both laugh with you and at you simultaneously.

"Heya, Musketeers!" he called from across the restaurant as he spotted us.

His wife Eun-Ju's expression soured only slightly as he drew attention to them. She is an intensely practical woman whose nursing career has not left her a great deal of tolerance for nonsense. She and Jack somehow have an incredibly solid, loving relationship despite his frequently gregarious nature. Cary and I always just shrug and remind each other than nobody expected our marriage to succeed, either.

After hugs and greetings, we got down to the serious business of chatting about what was new, the old days, and where our friends were now.

"Sash is still rangering it up, right?" Jack asked after a sip of something clear and bitter that purported to bring out the taste of the cheese plate.

I nodded. Sascha became a park ranger out of college. She remains a fiddle-playing, neo-pagan, cryptid-enthusiast goth hacker. But she also became a tireless campaigner for the downtrodden--always ready to go argue in the city hall of whichever city she lived closest to on behalf of the underdog. Cary and I still see her once every few years--she's one of our dearest and oldest friends.

"She's seeing somebody right now," Cary added. "A nice guy from the city--I think he's a veterinarian." Cary colored just a little. "She reminded us that Solstice is coming up in a couple of months."

Jack rolled his eyes. "Jeez. You two are a little old to be having pagan hippy sex in the woods, aren't you?"

Eun-Ju swatted Jack lightly in the arm. "Don't embarrass them. What they do is their own business."

I nodded with mock-seriousness. "Listen to your wife, you barbarian." I touched Cary's hand. "We only do thatsometimes."

Cary grinned mischievously and touched my wedding ring--white gold, like the hematite ring she had first given me years ago. "Aren'tyoua little old to be such a stick-in-the-mud, Mister Porthos?" she replied. "You should try it some time."

Eun-Ju shook her head firmly. "Going on your Rendezvous adventures was enough outside-sleeping for me, thank you." She fixed Jack with a level gaze. "Ticks," she added.

We all chuckled and exchanged a little more news. Jenna's Facebook said that she was now a head instructor for a series of trendy fitness classes running out in South Carolina, where she had moved in 2002. She had married her personal trainer at the time, but divorced after their son was born. Last Cary heard, she was remarried, had moved to Charlotte, and had a little daughter as well.

"How's Ty?" Jack asked.

I shrugged. "Still rich. Still a little odd--not that any of us has a right to talk. Still runs a few little charities and spends most of his time between Chicago, Los Angeles, and Madrid. I talked to him in February."

Jack grunted. "Still buying politicians?"

"Hecontributesto local politicians' campaigns whose causes he believes in," Cary corrected primly. "He's hardly trying to buy his way into politics. I think he's a nice man."

"A 'nice man' who buys his way out of trouble for possession of marijuana a lot," Jack muttered.

I grinned. "Well, I guess it still pays to be rich. At least he's not coasting on his dad's coattails. And these days, it seems rare enough to encounter a rich person with even a semblance of a heart."

"Is he still having crazy blowout sex parties that get leaked on the internet?" Jack asked.

Cary cleared her throat. "Now, now. One might think you're jealous. You know we only ever heard about those from Carla. And not even from her, now that she's got Craig."

"You'renotjealous, are you?" Eun-Jun turned dark eyes to Jack with an expectant raise of her eyebrows.

Jack snorted. "No way. Even as a teenager, I always thought that was a little beyond the pale."

Cary and I exchanged a look and repressed laughter; as a teenager, Jack hadabsolutelybeen jealous. But instead of pointing that out, I simply picked up a cube of cheese with a toothpick. "If he's still doing that, he's keeping his mouth shut. Like a gentleman."

"Hunh." Jack shrugged. "Well, I hope Carla's doing well. Haven't seen her in a while."

Cary nodded. "She's doing great! 'Living the life' is how she always puts it."

Carla became an unexpectedly consistent presence in our lives. We never had sex again, although she gave us an open invitation to any of her lifestyle parties for years. She became comfortably well-off with some good advice from Ty, and bought a few houses across the country. When the internet became ubiquitous, she immediately jumped on the bandwagon and made another small fortune doing adult modelling. She told Cary and I that some of the scenarios she chose were inspired by our adventures together--including Ty's party where we all met. None of that mattered to her eventual husband.

"That's the blonde lady, right?" Eun-Ju screwed up her face in thought. "The one who helped you catch the guy who was following you around?"

I nodded. "Yep. Interesting character. Craig has no idea how lucky he is."

Jack laughed. "We all say that aboutyou," he remarked.

Cary snuggled against me. "I think we'rebothlucky," she said happily.

"Oh!" I started. "That reminds me. I got a call from one of my old coworkers at theSunset Gazetteearlier in the year. They finally found out what happened to that guy--the private eye who had been making Cary and I miserable."

Jack munched unenthusiastically on something composed mainly of celery. "Oh yeah?"

I nodded. "They found some human remains under a coffee shop around thirteen or fourteen years ago. It was one of those pop-up places out east. When they demolished it, they found some bones and teeth. Augusta PD did some DNA testing back in 2011, but it never occurred to them to share their results with the FBI."

Jack put down his fork. "Jesus. No kidding! How long had they been there?"

Cary looked uncomfortable. "The coffee shop was built in 1997. So he must have been--must have died pretty soon after we chased him away."

"Life lesson," I said. "Don't get involved with the Russian mob. The paperwork said that one of the backers for the original coffee shop was listed as 'M. Gordeev.' I almost feel sorry for the guy; he really seemed more like a sneaky slimeball who had gotten in over his head than anything else."

"Nobody deserves to be killed by Russian mobsters," Cary said.

I feigned thinking. "I can think ofoneperson."

She smirked. "Okay, maybe one." Her phone buzzed and she pulled it out of her purse. "Oh, shoot. Sorry, one minute. That's Patrick!"

She stood and walked to an alcove off to the side of the dining room. Jack sighed and rolled his shoulders back. "Huh. I forget sometimes what a soap opera your life was when you were young and irresponsible."

I smiled in what I hoped was a devilish manner. "Now that I'm older and irresponsible, I'm much more circumspect. I haven't been followed by a private eye for years." I turned to Eun-Ju. "Don't let this fellow mislead you--he was very nearly as reckless as me. Knocked at least a few folks' teeth out on my graduation party night, as I recall."

Jack looked embarrassed and concentrated on his food. "So, is Patrick still doing okay?"

"Yeah, he's good." I made a point of eating one of the celery-things. It was exactly as appetizing as Jack's facial expression had suggested. "You know Cary: she's always worried a little about him since the wreck." That was how we usually described it now--the wreck. When Eric had drunkenly shot himself in the foot and stolen my car, crashing it.

Patrick had gotten a concussion--alarming, but not enough to make him miss more than a week of school. More damaging by far was his sense of stability in the world. No kid should have had to deal with almost getting accidentally killed in a car crash by their drunk dad. Patrick always had a little bit of a cynical edge to him after the incident. It made his eventual interest in industrial music and screaming punk a really apt fit.

I shot a glance towards Cary, who was smiling as she spoke. Good news this time, then. Patrick had passed forty years old last year--an unbelievable benchmark for both of us. "You know, we both tried to give him as much love and stability as we could to make up for things. Having a new baby brother actually seemed to help."

Cary returned to the table. "Sorry about that. Patrick just wanted to let me know that he and Amanda are going to Europe for vacation. He was so excited, he wanted to tell us first." She squeezed my hand. "What did I miss?"

"Reminiscing about bar brawls," Eun-Ju answered. Cary chuckled ruefully.

The rest of our dinner was pleasant--Cary and I always loved meeting up with Jack.

As we rose to say our goodbyes, we promised to get in touch before Christmas.

"Take care, buddy," I said, in parting. "One for all."

"All for one!" Cary and Jack automatically replied, smiling fondly.

Cary and I watched our friends get into their car, bickering good-naturedly about some minor quibble. I shook my head slowly. "Man. I just don't get it. But they seem happy."

Cary kissed me. "I'm glad they are. They deserve to be happy." She leaned against me, pushing her breasts into my arm. "Hey, handsome. That dessert was pretty... conceptual."

I kissed the top of her forehead. "Sounds like somebody wants to get ice cream before we head home."

"Sounds likesomebodymay need to prepare for twice in one day," Cary chuckled. "You are a very smart man. Take your beloved wife for coffee and ice cream, would you?"

"My treat," I joked. My salary as English Chair at the local two-year college would never have put us in the lap of luxury. Luckily, Cary made enough on her own that we were always comfortable, no matter what my job was. Her gallery did so well that she was able to functionally retire and paint when she wanted, and what she wanted. Her paintings appeared on the covers of a few national magazines back when magazines were still common. She even painted one of the alternate versions of a movie poster that was up in theaters all over the country. But since Annie went to college, her main love now was illustrating children's books. When she takes a commission--which is rare--she puts her whole heart into it.

"Want to ask one of the Sams to meet us?" I asked, "Or Lori?"

Cary thought. "Samantha is on a book-signing tour," she answered.

"I hope she's not selling our sexual adventures as her own ideas again," I muttered.

Cary sighed. "You know she apologized for that. And besides, Carla did that for some of her... hervideos. And you didn't seem to have a problem with that."

I shrugged. "I guess not. How about Sami? Even if shewasat a demonstration today, it's late enough that it's probably over."