PFK1 (49 page)

because the wedding invitation was for two guests, not one. Very

thoughtful of The Schenz and his bride, seeing as how they know I am

serious about Megan.

The wedding was at this teeny tiny little church under the Sellwood

Bridge in Portland. At the reception, we danced, drank champagne,

and ate the delicious spread that was set out for the guests. Megan

wore this dark, wine-colored dress and matching jacket that looked

very chic. I wore my new tan sport coat, dark slacks, blue shirt, and

fashionably wide yellow-blue tie.

The bride wore a high-necked floor length white gown with long

sleeves and a lace veil. She carried a bouquet of violets, baby’s breath

and gardenias. Yes, I’m quoting directly from the newspaper

announcement. No doubt about it – Jean was exceptionally radiant

and looked very beautiful.

The groom also looked sharp in his silver-gray tux, white shirt,

black bow tie and slate-gray cummerbund. I don’t know that I’ve

ever seen The Schenz look quite so dashing.

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Lloyd’s mom and dad were both there, along with a lot of his old

high school friends. Chesley attended as well but Nurse Shirley

pointedly did not appear.

Say what you will about Lloyd’s past misdeeds, stunts, deceptions,

and shenanigans. In the really important things he has always been a

solid citizen. And in Jean, Lloyd knows a good thing when he sees it.

She is very beautiful, sweet, smart, funny, and truly seems to love

him. That girl is a gem and he’s a lucky guy.

I also did not fail to notice that Jean and Megan hit it off quite well.

No doubt they compared notes on the two idiots they have stuck

themselves with. Uh huh.

* * * *

November 24, 1979

Megan will be moving up to Portland early in December. We

talked about housekeeping and how it should be arranged. Unlike

most domestic issues, I had actually given this one some thought

beforehand. I told her I am good about picking up after myself but

will generally ignore the more basic vacuuming, dusting, and

decorating chores. Also I said that I hate to do laundry and would

appreciate it if she undertook that task.

On the other hand, I promised to do most of the cooking and all of

the cleaning up afterwards. Yes, all of it. Megan seemed a little

surprised when I told her I would do all of the dishes. Uh huh. Every

fucking one of them, from glass casserole pans with caked-on

potatoes au gratin to the tiniest shrimp fork.

I promised I will do them three meals per day, seven days per week,

month after month, 365 days per year. Ad infinitum.

The thing is, I can work out a lot of word problems when I am

doing a mindless chore like the dishes. While I wash, my mind can

free associate. So doing the dishes allows me to accomplish two

things at once. As long as you are with me, I said, you will never

have to do another dish. I made a solemn pledge.

In addition, I promised to look after the vehicles and deal with auto

mechanics whenever necessary. And I will take out the trash and be

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responsible for fixing things that break. Beyond that, however, I am

not too fastidious in my habits.

"Well," Megan said, "I suppose that should be enough."

"One other thing," I said, "if at any time you think we need to re-

examine the division of labor, just let me know and we can discuss it.

But don’t flick me shit about it otherwise."

"What about vacuuming?"

"I’ll get you a nice Hoover. I’ll sweep, but I won’t vacuum."

"Okay. What if we get a house with a yard?"

"I see a 50-50 split of the yard work there, with me taking

responsibility for the vegetable garden, and you handling the flowers.

But we can decide those details later."

"Okay," Megan said. She leaned over and kissed me, slipping her

tongue inside and then slowly backing it out.

"I am so glad I found you, Patrick," Megan said. She lightly placed

her hand between my legs, her signal to proceed to you-know-what.

"Before finding you," I said, "I was very unhappy."

"I wasn’t happy, either," she said.

"I love you, Megan."

"I love you, Patrick."

So we are all set. Looks like the big day will be December 9, 1979.

Unless we get married sometime later, it will serve as our anniversary

of sorts. The day we joined forces.

* * * *

November 25, 1979

Thanksgiving is over. Took mushrooms with Ginny, Chuck, and

Megan while we played cards and drank wine. Had a lot of good old

fashioned fun. Ginny and Chuck are such a kick. We watched Denny

Terrio on Dance Fever and laughed ourselves sick. But it was also

kind of interesting.

They had this couple on who did a country western swing dance.

Man, oh man. The woman wore a ruffled white mini-skirt and these

great looking white cowboy boots. She had a body just like Megan’s,

slender and very sensual. I really enjoyed looking at her. And could

she ever dance.

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About fifteen people came to Ginny and Chuck’s beach house for

the colossal Thanksgiving meal. Afterwards, Megan and I washed the

dishes and did the clean up while Ginny napped and Chuck ran

errands. We stayed in their spare bedroom. Late that night, there was

this heavy rainstorm that woke us both up.

What a downpour.

While it thundered on the roof, Megan kissed me and slipped her

hand between my legs. We made love, then fell back asleep. Megan

got up at dawn and drank coffee with Ginny until about 9:00 AM. I

stayed in the sack until noon. Needed to recharge my batteries.

I want to get my political campaign up and running.

First things first means getting my brochure ready for the

canvassing. Megan says she can take some photos but says I really

ought to have the Voter’s Pamphlet photograph done professionally. I

think she’s right.

* * * *

December 10, 1979

Megan’s here. Moved in yesterday. We are now partners in living

for as long as it goes. If I have my way, it will be until death do us

part. I have not lived with a woman in more than six years. We are

facing many challenges in the upcoming months and this will be a real

test. We shall see very soon whether this is true love or something

less.

Home, back home. In SE Portland.

* * * *

December 29, 1979 Heceta Beach

This may be our last long stay at the beach for a while. It was

really gorgeous here today. The sun came out and the air was warm

and clear. Megan and I went out to the South Jetty and hiked up the

dunes to our special spot, the hilltop where you can see for miles in

every direction. We each carried a bowling ball. Harry had given us

a couple of old nicked balls from this bankrupt bowling alley he is

liquidating. We lugged them to the top of the dunes.

The day was so beautiful that we just had to get naked and dance

around in the sunshine. What a blast. I’m so happy to be with

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Megan, at long last. She is so delightful and beautiful it damn near

brings tears to my eyes.

Of course, we also had to make love up there, in the grove of wind-

twisted pines. It was like something out of a Japanese art movie.

Warm winds and long limbs. Me and my babe. Woman in the dunes.

Wild and kinda eerie at the same time.

I couldn’t get over the beauty of the setting, or the loveliness of

Megan as she took my cock in her mouth and then, as soon as I was

good and hard, spread her legs on the blanket we had brought along.

The moment was like nothing either of us had ever experienced

before.

Megan is so sensual, so beautiful, and so much fun to be with. Her

body seems to know just what to do with mine. Up on the dunes there

was sunshine on her lovely skin, and sea breeze in her long, flowing

blond hair.

I took this one shot of her kneeling in the sand between the two

bowling balls, completely nude, looking at me with a sweet smile on

her face. Like Venus. Like Helen of Troy. Sure hope it turns out.

Megan was so gorgeous in that red light I could have died, I tell you,

right then and there.

In ceremonial fashion, we pledged our love to one another. Then

we let the bowling balls roll down the hill into the lake. You should

have seen them go KER-SPLASH!

When we got back to the house, Ginny wanted Megan to go with

her to the post office and stop for a snack at the pie shop. The

cocktail hour was nearly at hand, so I stayed behind with Chuck while

the girls took off. Chuck made pina coladas while he hummed that

song "Do You Like Pina Coladas"? It plays on the radio about every

five minutes.

We saw Houston beat the Chargers, 17-14. Dan Fouts played tough

but he couldn’t get it past Oiler cornerback Vernon Perry, who read

him like a book, nabbing at least three interceptions.

Nick came by later to invite us to his New Year’s champagne

brunch. Eleanor is going to serve as his co-host.

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She seems to have latched on to him and doesn’t intend to let him

slip. We also agreed to meet for drinks at the Whistler tonight at 9:00

PM. Eleanor has never seen the photos Megan took of the poetry bash

and wants to check them out.

Toasty warm fire at my feet.

A pattering rain on the roof right now. Darkness softly falls. I hear

the sounds of the sea. I am in love with a beautiful woman and I am

getting ready to run for the state legislature, something I have long

dreamed of doing.

I won’t say that life is perfect because I don’t wanna jinx it.

Happiness goeth before disaster, after all. Therefore, I refuse to take

chances by saying everything is wonderful.

But it’s hard to see how I can make very many improvements on

this moment.

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M. J. Rennie is a bestselling author of offbeat, humorous, unique,

and sophisticated erotica with a feminist awareness. Among Rennie's

works are the following titles, published by Renaissance E Books:

Absolute Submission

Femdom Forever – Volume 1

Femdom Forever – Volume 2

Hold Nothing Back

How to Manage a Man

Male Chastity

Menage a Troll

Permission

Plus Size Signe

Slit Pantie Honeymoon (Stories)

Submit, My Lovely

The Alien Aphrodisiac (Stories)

The Perfect Wife

Worshipped Wives

For more information on the erotic stories and novels of M. J.

Rennie, view the author’s frequently updated website at:

http://mjrennie2.zoomshare.com

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