Literotic asexstories – Amy – Day 01 Pt. 01-03 by d1rty0ldMan74,d1rty0ldMan74
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to ANYONE is completely coincidental. Anyone who engages in any “activity” is well over the age of 18.
Amy
“Amy, what you wanna do?
I think I could stay with you
For a while, maybe longer if I do”
–From “Amy” by Pure Prairie League
Part One:
I was never close to my family. I never knew why but I just wasn’t. I was a “change of life” kid born when my parents were in their 40s. My brothers are both well more than a decade older than I am and for a lot of my life I was treated like I was a huge burden to my brothers.
I can say that yes, my parents loved me and I loved them but there was always a coldness. Even so, as the youngest I could do no wrong in my mother’s eyes. Which isn’t to say I did no wrong. I just knew how to not get caught. Having a pair of brothers who made a lot of mistakes made it easy for me to learn how to get away with shit. My dad was pretty hands off when I was a kid. Anything that I did do “wrong” was met with a “Don’t get caught and embarrass me” by my father. He was a politician and image was everything.
I didn’t do anything really bad. Never broke the law or the like. But what I did do I got away with because I knew how to keep my mouth shut.
When I was eight the school figured out there was something different about me. Two psychologists later they figured out I had a genius level IQ. That level of intelligence combined with the average American school system led to a lot of boredom. Boredom led to some antics but as I said: I knew how to keep my mouth shut.
There is no question I grew up privileged. My grandfather was in energy and extremely influential in the northeast. I won’t name him, but you can figure it out if you think about it. He passed when I was five and my father parlayed his wealth into an outright fortune.
I’m not trying to brag but I want o be clear on how I grew up. Nothing tragic or out of the ordinary, but there always seemed to be something missing. My friends’ families always seemed closer; happier.
Going through elementary school I always was told that high school was harder and nothing like it. Going through high school I was told that college was harder and nothing like high school. I was told right; it was easier! Once I was able to move at my own pace I excelled in ways I never expected.
By the time I hit 18 I was out the door. The first of us since Dad to go to college. He and I became closer as a result. Of the three boys I even looked like Dad. He encouraged me to make my life my own and that’s what I focused on.
I walked out of a major university with a Bachelors in Computer Science with a minoring in world history in just over two years. I didn’t believe in wasting time.
I went into computer game design right as the market took off in the 90s. I wrote and coded the bestselling “Blade and Bolt” RPG series. Even when the market crashed I had enough in investments that I was always comfortable.
In ’93 I met Grace at school. She was an accounting major and destined for a MBA. We fell in love pretty hard and thank God for me. Remember those investments I said I had? All that was set up by Grace. I was awful with money and if it wasn’t for her I would have pissed away ever cent I made from “Blade & Bolt.”
Grace and I married shortly after my graduation in 1994. We were both 20. Though I was done school she kept going while I went to work. Yeah, we were young. We both took a lot of grief from our families but it didn’t matter. I simply answered both families that I knew what I wanted and I wanted as much time with Grace as possible. I simply knew we’d make it work. I had her parents and mine as examples of marriages that worked and we were going to beat the odds and do it!
I am happy to say I was right. As my brothers’ marriages soured and died our was rock solid.
By 29 we had two amazing daughters. By 30 my father passed from colon cancer. Yeah..fuck. His passing was a nightmare; none of us were ready. It left a hole that nobody could find a way to patch.
All through my life I had an angry streak. When dad died it threatened to go out of control. My brothers fought over everything, and my mom became strange. She retreated to Florida and rarely, if ever, came home to New York. For the first few years I felt abandoned by her; we all did. Toward the end I felt like she died at the same time Dad did.
We all still loved each other but something was missing. It was around this time I realized I felt that way my entire life. Something was just missing.
In the end life went on and Grace and my girls kept my anger from ever going critical mass. In the end, though, the universe has a nasty way of making sure we know who’s boss.
For the next 17 years shit was good. Our daughter grew up. The oldest went to med school and the youngest became a history teacher. Grace & I were empty-nesters by our mid 40s. I had my goal of having as much time with Grace as I possibly could.
American Dream won.
Then came 2020. COVID took my mom in May. Living over 1000 miles away and unable to even see her at the end crippled my brothers. I was numb, though. I had, as I said, felt like she died 17 years earlier when Dad died.
Three months later on August 22, 2020 COVID took Grace from me. Instantly I went from being a happy empty-nester to being alone in a big home.
It wasn’t a good time. I took up my mom’s family hobby. I started drinking. A lot. The next six months were-well I don’t know what they were. I don’t remember them at all. If I was sober I was angry. If I was drunk I was angry but I was numb and angry so I went with drunk. From August 2020 to February 2021 was one, long bender.
Spring 2021 my oldest, now an intern, moved home. She and her girlfriend spent months drying me out, taking me to therapy, sitting up with me well into the dark hours of the night. I don’t know how I survived. I don’t know how they put up with me. But here I am.
Two Years Later:
Here I am sober, working, and carefully following Grace’s rules so I don’t piss away our hard earned money. In addition to my two daughters I now have a daughter-in-law and a soon to be son-in-law. My youngest is pregnant with my first grandson.
My oldest, Sophie, and her wife Lys stayed with me; I did mention that my home was big, right? I am holding on. A short time ago I developed an interest in genealogy and I even sent my DNA off to one of those websites. My parents always said we were related to George Washington and now I could get proof!
The Friday before Memorial Day found me on a train heading home after a meeting in New York City. The train as hot and uncomfortable. You know: The usual. The more I sweat the more uncomfortable the train became. Hard seats. Body Odor. The works.
I was never so relieved to get to my station and get in my Jeep. I pumped the air as high as it went and sat there for a minute trying to push down my growing irritation I had since leaving Penn Station.
Pulling out of the local station I was immediately lost in the afternoon rush hour traffic. By the time I was out of my little town and on the lane to my house I could feel my pulse in my temples and hear it in my ears. One more stressor and I felt likely that I was going to crack.
For almost thirty years Grace was my release valve. She always knew just what to say and what to do to keep me from losing my shit. Therapy helped but there were days.
“Finally,” I said as I pulled into my driveway. I was looking very much forward to sitting in my favorite chair and relaxing. Just a few more feet and into the garage. The universe decided I needed a reminder who was in charge.
There was a car in front of my garage door. A little Chevy Volt that I had never seen before. I figured it was probably one of Sophie’s colleagues or friends so I pushed down my irritation. I wasn’t going to embarrass the kiddo so I willed myself to remain calm and I parked in the fucking guest spot.
Going inside, preparing myself to be pleasant I entered the living room to see a young woman speaking to Sophie. She was sitting in my chair. My fucking chair. “Well,” I thought, “If I burst a blood vessel at least I have a live-in doctor.”
“Hi Daddy,” my daughter said. She stood up and gave me a hug. Something was bothering her. I could tell; I was her dad.
Mustering my best smile I turned to the young woman and introduced myself. “David Drake. It is nice to meet you.”
The young woman stood up and I got my first good look at her. Holy. Shit.
Physically I am no slouch. Yeah, I’ve put on some weight but even nearing 50 I looked good. Sophie didn’t let me slow down. Also the fun of having a doctor living with you. My hair was still thick and dark black even though there was some gray streaks. But let’s be clear: I looked good. I could pass for a man in my late 30s. Nobody ever believes I had adult children in their 20s. Nobody ever believed I was about to be a grandfather. But damn, this woman was amazing.
She had hazel eyes that were incredibly expressive. Her nervous smile made her face lok sad, happy, and warm all at same time. I wondered what a real smile would look like. I wanted to see it. Just standing there she looked like a magazine photograph.
The dress she wore hugged a body that can only be described as divine. I was and always will be a breast man and my assessment of hers as B border on C cups. Just perfect.
I know I stared for a few seconds longer than I should have. I shifted my eyes from her breasts to her face as fast as possible. It wouldn’t do to be perving on my daughter’s friend but damn I felt some stirring down below.
“Daddy,” Sophie said, “this is Amy Fries.”
“It is very nice to meet you, Amy,” I said, falling into the old patters of meeting a kid’s friend.
She timidly held out her hand for me to shake which I did as warmly as possible. I have have held her hand a moment too long. Boy was I going to catch hell from Sophie later.
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