I eventually excused myself and went to the kitchen to get a stiff drink with a stiff dick all too obviously showing down my pant leg. Apart from giving me some exquisite wanking material I became determined to find some company of my own age. The solution was in the lonely hearts section of the local newspaper which I scoured and after making a few dead-end runs which resulted in no more than a dinner and a handshake I found a very unusual advert which was asking for a man with good table manners to escort a lady to formal functions. The phone call seemed to go very well and we decided to meet at a local restaurant of my choice that turned out to be only a couple of miles from this lady’s house. This was the point where I was heavily quizzed about my social standing, upbringing and so on. I must have passed the test as I was invited to have dinner with her at her house the following Saturday with her doing the cooking. Her two somewhat grown up k**s were to be present for dinner and. ‘She never meant to hurt you,’ she said, quietly. ‘You were the love of her life. You know that.’ ‘I don’t know anything anymore!’ he shouted. ‘It was all a lie! Our entire marriage was a lie!’ ‘No it wasn’t!’ Marilyn yelled, standing to her feet. ‘She loved you, dammit! And yeah, it was a mistake. Humans make mistakes, Bill. She had too much to drink, she wasn’t thinking clearly, and she made a mistake. That one mistake doesn’t mean your entire marriage was a sham, and it doesn’t mean she never loved you.’ ‘Yeah, well, to me, it does.’ Marilyn stared at him, but he refused to look at her. She looked around the room, and saw empty shelves and tables where f****y photos once stood. She shook her head and sighed. ‘Bill, I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen.’ At last, he looked at her. His eyes welled with tears, and he swallowed hard. ‘Forgiveness isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength. It isn’t about the person who wronged you, it’s about you. It isn’t.
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