The Long Absence: Angie's Story

Author's Note: This story takes place before the story "Dahlia and Darren." Feel free to read that story after this one. The bulk of this story ends in October, which is right when Dahlia and Darren's story begins. These two stories share a character or two. 😉

Angie was Ulysses' first affair with a married woman. His second, several years later, can be read about in "Emily's Story."

Edited by Todger65.

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Chapter 1

Angie was dreaming again. A dream she's had countless times in the past six years. She was dreaming of the one of the most pleasure filled nights of her life. It was also the worst night of her life.

The room was hazy. She saw herself on the bed, slightly blurred, and dimly lit by a faint orange glow. He was on top of her again, slowly, gently guiding his cock in and out of her. He was so young, just out of college, but so good in bed.

His name was Ulysses. They met in his senior year at college. Angie was a career counselor that worked for the university. He was very polite when he came to her, seeking advice and guidance. There was something about his smile, his bright white teeth against the backdrop of his dark brown skin that made her weak. They maintained a friendship after he graduated. Deep down, Angie knew it was only a matter of time.

Back in her dream, Angie let out a soft moan as Ulysses kissed along her neck, pinning her down with her hands entwined in his. Moaning again, she closed her eyes, wrapping her legs around his toned, muscular butt. She didn't want the dream to end, but knew it would, and knew when and how it would.

Ulysses released her hands, staring into her brown eyes, running his fingers through her long red hair. Resuming his slow and steady thrusts, sending tingles through her body, she began cumming. He sat back on his knees, bringing Angie up with him, her legs locked behind him, be began bouncing her. Slamming upward into her over and over, she gripped him tightly, her fingernails trailing across his dark chocolate colored skin, the orgasm exploding and coursing through her.

"Yes! Yes!" She cried out, her closed eyes not initially seeing her bedroom door open. Ulysses stopped, she opened her eyes, her husband was standing in the door way; the bright light from the hallway, magnified by the dream, behind him, creating a clinched fist silhouette. That night, six years ago, was the night her own actions brought about her demise.

Angie's eyes shot open after a loud gasp. It was over, she was awake, and the dream had ended. She slid out of bed and walked to the bedroom window. Sliding the drapes open to let in moonlight, she stood there looking up to a full moon, her naked body silhouetted by its light. She shook the images of the dream from her head and sighed.

The frown turned to a slight smile when she felt a warm hand slide around her body and rest on her bare, flat tummy. She closed her eyes when she felt her shoulder being peppered with kisses.

"You ok sweety?" Sandee asked. Angie must have woken her.

"Yeah, just the same bad dream again." Angie explained.

Sandee moved next to Angie, smiling at her while she moved her long red locks behind Angie's ears. Sandee held Angie's face and placed a soft kiss on her pouty lips, Sandee's own full lips interlocking with Angie's.

"It's just a dream. Come back to bed," Sandee said, taking Angie by the hand, leading her back to the small bed in Sandee's bedroom.

Angie rested in Sandee's arms, her head using her breasts like a pillow, trailing her hand over Sandee's tight 35 year old stomach. The two women didn't have to work tomorrow. It was the Fourth of July weekend. Sandee invited Angie over to spend it together in bed.

Thoughts of that horrible night ran through her mind as Angie tried to go back to sleep. She had many affairs over the years during her marriage. She initially blamed her controlling, domineering, uncaring, workaholic husband on them. There were a few of his coworkers at the law firm he was a partner at, several of his clients – a couple of them big, nasty, linebackers for the Oakland Raiders – there were men she met at the gym, their neighbors on each side their house, their neighbor's sons, and finally Ulysses – the college senior that needed her help with career guidance.

In his arms, she was in another world; a world of constant orgasmic bliss. Then it ended that fateful night she got caught. What followed was a systematic destruction of her life as she knew it. Over the course of a few months, she lost her marriage, her home, a great deal of her funds, and the one thing that gave her joy besides the occasional extramarital sex, her son.

In the back of Angie's mind she knew she'd get caught sooner or later. She knew her addiction to cheating would ruin her. After every bra removal, after every ass grab, after every swallow of semen, after every thrust, pump, grind, spank, and orgasm brought about by another man, she knew eventually it would all come crashing down on her. She knew she'd be punished and made to suffer for neglecting her family and the person she loved most, her son, all so she could sleep with someone.

Her husband, Don, consulted with another bloodsucking lawyer friend of his named Wayne, built a case against her, and took everything. Don took their son, John, and fled across the country to build a new life in Miami; coincidentally where Don's partner in crime, Wayne, was living.

Angie screamed in heartbreak as she watched her then 12 year old baby being rushed into the taxi by his father. John was crying too, reaching out to his mother for one last hug; not knowing when they'd ever see each other again. He was so small, so innocent in all this, and so precious. She brought this nightmare upon herself.

Left with nothing but her job at the University, the clothes she owned along with a few other personal items, Angie got an apartment and tried to go on. Don wouldn't return her calls, she never heard from John, and no one in his family would speak to her or help in anyway. Don had full custody and kept John away from her in every way. She got a call at Thanksgiving and Christmas from John. It was awkward; both wanted to talk longer, but Don intervened. Angie received birthday cards from John too. Nothing else though. No pictures were sent with the cards, no emails exchanged. Don was making her suffer.

In the months that followed, she convinced herself she deserved it. She should be punished. She failed as a mother. She went into a deep depression and didn't interact with anyone. Two years after she lost her son, she was able to find a new job at a job placement agency helping folks find employment. The temporary boost in happiness quickly faded. She enjoyed helping folks down on their luck or needing a change, find one. But she still missed her son, so bad it hurt. She'd often have chest pains. The doctor saw no heart issues, but prescribed her anti-anxiety pills.

Months and months passed, then years. A holiday phone call and a birthday card was her only communication with her son. She listened to his voice get deeper and deeper as time passed. She imagined what he might look like. When she last saw him he had dark hair like his father, styled in a messy and unkempt way, he had blue eyes like Angie's father, covered with a pair of glasses. She wondered how tall he was. Angie herself was 5'10" and Don was a little over six feet, surely he would've gained some decent height. She daydreamed about seeing him, hugging him, laughing with him. He told her he played football. She would daydream about going to his games to watch him. It was heartbreaking for her. Each phone call ended with her holding back tears.

She never touched another man since that fateful night five years ago. She never went on dates, never made friends with men, and had nearly zero interaction with the opposite sex save for the clients of the employment agency she worked for. Angie really had no friends at all. Don was punishing her by taking away the person she loved most; and she was punishing herself by denying herself a social life, or a chance at new love.

She rarely contacted her own family. This could've made her more depressed, but she was never close with them to begin with. Her three older sisters tormented her relentlessly as youngsters. Her oldest sister, Darla, continued into adulthood; her condescending attitude and biting remarks were indicative of a woman who was jealous of Angie's elegant beauty. Angie was happy to move with her husband to Los Angeles on the other side of the country. She rarely spoke to or saw her sisters again. She did have a niece named Leanna that was sent out to LA to live with her father and step mother. Her brief and infrequent chats with Leanna's mother, her sister, over the years contained fake promises of visiting the teen girl. Angie knew she never would and she honestly didn't care.

Angie instead spent her time at home reading, baking cookies pretending they were for her son, cleaning her apartment, and exercising. Every once in a while she would masturbate. She would rub herself to climax while in a nice bath, or in the shower. She would sometimes lay in bed and stimulate her clitoris with her fingers until she was ready to sleep. She wouldn't think about any man in particular – just the overall sensation.

This was her life. The now 43 year old, assumed this is how it would always be and knew it would be because of her own unfaithful actions. Then in May, she met Sandee.

Chapter 2

Sandee was a recently turned 35 year old stripper that was looking for a change in life. She wanted a job that didn't involve taking her clothes off. She came to the agency where Angie worked and was paired with her. There as something about Sandee that Angie couldn't forget. She was incredibly sweet, cheerful, and always smiling. She was also gorgeous. She was so gorgeous that straight women would look at her in admiration or possibly jealousy. Angie went the admiration route. Her light brown eyes and matching hair along with those thick lips made an impression on Angie. Sandee was like a vampire that fed off Angie's depression, sucking it out of her and removing it temporarily – until Angie was alone at home again.

Angie couldn't help but let this woman into her life. How could she not? She was a caring, lovable ball of energy. Sandee would cook for Angie; she would invite her to movies or dinner and she would take her out shopping. Angie felt alive again. Then one night, in mid-June, Sandee kissed her. It was awkward and Sandee apologized profusely, fearing that she offended or grossed out her friend. It was actually the opposite though. Angie had never been kissed by a woman before, but something deep inside her was brought out by that simple, quick kiss on the lips. Perhaps it was the loneliness, the depression, the anxiety, or the thought that she didn't deserve a man touching her or loving her again that made her kiss Sandee back in an equally hurried and awkward way.

Angie apologized to Sandee for the return kiss, blushing, looking downward. Sandee, bringing Angie's chin up to meet her gaze, kissed her again. It was a long, slow kiss on the lips. The next thing Angie knew her hands were on Sandee's waist and the two women were walking backward towards Sandee's bedroom, continuously kissing, and then collapsing on her bed in a flurry of kisses and flying clothes.

The first time Angie had an orgasm from another person in six years was like a dam breaking. That night in June, Angie's vagina was filled with unending barrage of tongue and fingers. It culminated in the wee hours of the morning with the two women collapsing on the mattress in a heaving, sweaty mess after what seemed like hours of grinding their pussies together.

Angie shook, still in shock over what she had done. She only knew it was amazing and she would welcome the opportunity to experience it again.

Sandee was never demanding or selfish. She knew Angie was new to lesbian sex and never once pressured her into doing anything wasn't ready for. During the next couple weeks they saw each other a few more times – sharing nights of passion. Sandee was the one who initiated all interaction between the two. Angie was too shy to do so herself. She didn't want to be a bother to Sandee. Angie was included in Sandee's circle of friends as well. She learned that most of them were also bi-sexual. It made Angie wonder how many people Sandee slept with.

Angie also met Sandee's long-time friend, a big breasted beauty named Dahlia. Dahlia was loud, outgoing, and always up for fun. She had a fairly creepy boyfriend though. Angie was bothered by Dahlia, but it wasn't for any of those reasons. It was because the relationship Dahlia had with her 20 year old son made Angie miss John. They were very close, more like friends than mother and child, and it made Angie cry to think that could've been her and John.

The morning light crept into Sandee's bed room, shining on the nude women, laying in each other's arms. Angie spent the last two nights with Sandee. Finally getting the courage to taste another woman, Angie did her best to make Sandee's toes curl as her tongue slid all around the inner walls of Sandee's pussy. Angie actually thought it tasted good. Ignoring questions of how many men and women had shared Sandee's bed and had been in between her legs, slurping up her vaginal juices, she enjoyed herself, savoring the woman's taste.

The two women woke and showered together, bringing about mutual orgasms to one another with their fingers while standing and letting the hot steam rise.

"You sure you don't want to come with me tonight to see fireworks?" Sandee asked Angie as she was putting her clothes back on to leave. Angie smiled softly shaking her head.

"Is it because Dahlia will be there?" Sandee asked. Angie pulled her pants up and nodded yes.

Sandee smiled, "I'm sorry, I know it must be rough to see her and her son so close whilst you miss yours so bad." Sandee stood, still naked, and gave Angie a goodbye hug. "I'll call you later, maybe we can go out to dinner next week on my day off."

"Ok," Angie said, hugging her friend in return. She could already feel the sadness creeping back in.

The rest of the month passed. Angie's typical routine continued; working, cooking, reading, taking walks alone, occasionally meeting Sandee for dinner, and spending the night at her house once more.

**********

Angie's hand gripped her bed sheets. It was the last week of July; she was on all fours on her bed, with one hand in between her legs, furiously rubbing her clit. It had been two weeks since she last spent the night at Sandee's and the itch was returning, desiring to be scratched. She had the day off tomorrow, and two hours after arriving home at 6pm, she was busy bringing herself the first of many climaxes she had planned for that night.

Her eyes closed, she was biting her bottom lip, when she was distracted by her ringing cell phone. She wondered who could be calling her at this hour. Sandee was the only person she ever spoke to on the phone and she was working that night.

Angie decided she should answer. Picking up her cell phone next to the bed, her heart nearly stopped, it was Don's number, which meant it was mostly like John using his father's phone to call her.

Chapter 3

"Hi Angie, it's Don." Don greeted Angie when she said hello, her voice slightly trembling.

"Hi," She said flatly, her bubble was busted.

"Hey look, John has been applying to colleges around the country. Alright? I suggested why not one out there closer to you. To make this quick, he's been accepted to UCLA." Don explained to Angie, she had to stand and pace around her room, still naked from her earlier self pleasuring.

"Ok," Was all she could get out, as if expecting there to be more amazing news.

"I suggested it might be nice if he stayed with you instead of the dorm on campus. It could save me a few bucks too. I figured it'd be nice for you to see him again." Don said.

Angie cleared her tightening throat, "Yes."

"Right, so anyway, I ran that idea by him and he was fine with that if you are. Is your place large enough for a guest to stay there? It's a one bedroom apartment right?"

"It's two," She quickly said, picking up on his condescension. What Don also didn't know is that the spare bedroom was used as storage. She started thinking about cleaning it up so John would have room to live in there – to live with her. Her heart rate got faster with each passing second.

"Even better. We had to finalize a few things with the school, otherwise I would've called you sooner, but the semester starts in mid-august. I was planning on sending him out there next week. Is that ok?" Don asked. Angie shook her head, not understanding how Don could be so calm about this, not getting that Angie considered this a miracle.

"Mmhmm, that'd be great," She replied, trying to maintain her composure, but was exploding on the inside.

"Great, great. We'll chat more about his flight arrival time and all that next week." Don said, still nonchalantly like this was no biggie. It was as though he didn't realize he took her child from her, and that event would have had an impact on her.

The phone call ended and Angie fell to the floor in a crying, shaking mess. She had no words and doubted if this was even real. She wondered if this was another dream teasing her and tormenting her from her subconscious while she slept. She curled into a fetal position and was able to convince herself this was real. The first thing she decided to do, when she was able to speak, was to call Sandee. She left a message for her to call when she was able.

"He's coming out here!" She practically screamed into the phone. It was 3am and Sandee just got off work. She was returning Angie's call after listening to her frantic voicemail. Angie was still wide awake. After crying for what seemed like hours, she was able to stand and put some clothes on, sitting back down on her bed with her mind racing. She couldn't believe what was happening.

"Who? Who is coming out here?" Sandee asked her voice calm.

"My son! John!" Angie replied, catching her breath. She went on to explain the phone call with Don. She wondered if Don had developed guilt for all that happened and that's why he planted a seed for their son to go to college where Angie lived. She didn't know and, deep down, didn't care. All she knew is that her child would be there soon. Sandee was happy for her friend and offered to come over. Angie declined the offer and spent the next 3 hours cleaning the spare room. At 6 am she finally collapsed on her bed and passed out.

The next day was more of the same. She cleaned and moved stuff around. She packed a few items and clothes she didn't need and took them to Goodwill. At the end of the day the room looked much better. The only thing missing was a bed. That was remedied quickly and easy enough. While not having any idea of what size to get, her excitement took over, rushing out the next day after work, buying a queen size bed, she figured that would be a decent size for an 18 year old.

Admiring her work, Angie stood at the door way of the guest room. It looked like someone could live there. Someone would be living there: the boy that was taken from her six years ago. Now, after a long absence, they would be reunited.

Chapter 4

For the first time in six years Angie felt alive. She smiled more. She hummed to herself at work. She felt like going outside more. She counted down the days until John arrived. She was no longer a walking husk of a human, someone with no purpose or joy – she no longer felt like a zombie.

Her heart was pounding and her stomach was in knots. Angie checked herself in the women's restroom at the airport near the baggage claim area. Reapplying a small amount lip gloss and checking her eye shadow, she ran her hands through her long, thick red hair, pleased with her appearance. She didn't know what to wear, so she was just wearing blue jeans and a white, spaghetti-strapped, tank top. She thought about wearing a dress, but hadn't bought one in years, and figured what she currently had was frumpy and out of style. She paced nervously in the bathroom for a few moments before exiting to wait for John to arrive. This would be the first real interaction with a man in years. This man happened to be her son, but he was a man now nonetheless.

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