Dawn came and Reilly licked my face to be let out. I arose from the couch, opened the screen porch door and out he ran. I noticed that Allaire had already begun the ritual of prayer and coffee. I joined her, giving thanks for another day and prayed for guidance and discernment in my own life and of course, a safe trip home.

Allaire was oddly quiet and mysterious, methodically collecting her belongings and stripping her bed. I peeped in. Her hair was tied back, a gauzy pink and purple shirt swung loosely as she folded the bedclothes. “Hey, are you okay?” I asked with consideration. “Yes, yes, I am good. You know how it is, a brief vacation and then it’s back to work. Cannot delay the inevitable.” She was too matter-of-fact. There seemed to be a bit of enviousness in her voice. I couldn’t tell. She looked directly at me with those cat eyes of hers. “And you? What about YOU?” The “Oh God, here we go” sensation hit me and I knew it was trouble.

I sat on the boudoir chair and propped my bare feet onto the bed. “Another night from hell, I’m afraid.” Her eyebrow arched, her arms holding the folded velux blanket close to her. “Proceed.”

“I just don’t know what to do now.” “It’s been six years. He left me when I went to detox and then rehab. I’ve recovered and my maintenance is the spiritual well-being and knowing that everyday I have to make a decision that NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS I can’t drink. “ “The bdsm thing, well, part of it is the cleansing of old guilt, you know shit like abortion, adultery, ruining my children’s lives and alcoholism, just little things,” I snipped. The pain heightens my sensations – since I have to go through the rest of my life FEELING EVERYTHING.

I am a submissive in a very real sense, always desiring to give pleasure, even if it means being whalloped with the riding crop or pierced till my nipples bleed; yet I don’t take orders well – you know that.” “I don’t love those people and I’m not in love with anyone - only HIM.” Allaire looked like she was going to cry. I went to her and put my arms around her. She would not return the embrace. “Allaire, God, I’m sorry. Please understand. Damn! I love you as my friend. We’ve been through so much together and you stuck by me when everyone took off.” “But, you know how I feel. You always have.” “Max is the man I dreamt of all my life. I recognized his soul the day we met. He is in my blood, my soul, my mind, and my torturous dreams.” “I can’t love you the way you want.” She began to cry a bit and I just held onto her as best I could. I could hear her sobbing quietly her breasts heaving against mine.”

I pulled away and looked at her quite seriously. “Allaire, my pain is like a heavy coat I wear.” “I am separate from the one I love; I have come to realize we shall never have a union; especially now that the cloth stands between us.” “Rageane, you knew that a long time ago,” she sniffed. “You were never by his side in public; never went on vacations with him; never was invited to any of his birthdays or met his family.”

“You were the hump in the northern part of the state” “You and I both believed that in every sense of the word, his friend Alyssa was “his wife”. “She did all the decorating, the intimate parts of his very soul, she knew. Vacations galore, his traveling companion.” “You could not compete with that lady if you were the Queen of Sheba!, she said with regret. “I didn’t quit him because I wanted to prove my worth and I loved him – remained loyal.” “But until I got well, I wasn’t worth a sheet of toilet paper.” “I wouldn’t have had anything to do with me either,” I countered. Allaire interrupted, “Look, I gotta get out of here. You still have a day left – why don’t you call me after your pity-party is over.” “I’m disgusted with you.” “You are the best kind of wife and the best kind of girlfriend, someone else will recognize that and you’ll move on – until then – stay stuck as long as you want. I can’t watch this destruction of all you worked for.” “Let it be a lesson to you; you really are a pain slut!” “Go on, wallow in your pain for this man who doesn’t love you, will never love you, can never be committed to you.” “His cancer is YOUR CANCER!” “At least he had the balls to cut the cancer OUT!” “You sick, pathetic martyr,” she slammed the words at my face.

“All previous considerations rescinded; crew expendable,” I cried. “Heard it before, Allaire.” “Yes, you should leave; our words are tearing each other apart. “ “I needed to hear the truth from you and you gave it to me loud and clear. Now, let me deal with it.” I stormed out of the bedroom and tossed my head toward her. “By the way, “thanks for sharing”!”

I whistled for Reilly and he loped along side me to the beach. I hoped that when I came back, Allaire would be gone and I could make some sense of everything. It killed me inside that our words were so harsh. As usual, she was right. I had to get on with my life and stop living with a phantom lover. It was pure delusion to think it could be anything in this lifetime. Perhaps in the next I would get it right.

I looked to the rockpile and further to the lighthouse. No one to be seen. Empty. “Well, Reills, just you and me, buddy.”

Allaire packed her things carefully and left the small travel bag on Rageane’s bedside table. She knew that with one more day left, and no love lost between she and Max, she was in the way. Now, it was up to Rageane to just do it and it would either bind them together for all of eternity or seal their loveless and doomed hearts. She hated to be so brash with Rageane, but that’s the only thing she understood – someone getting in her face and taking her inventory.

Allaire passed through every room and recited a blessing and cleansing prayer. “Dispel all the rage and misunderstanding. Restore the tranquility and love that built this home.” “Thank you for the refuge.” Her fingertips wisped at the mantle. “You and you”, she pointed at the wolf and the monk – Come to her with love – see for yourself how much she loves you.”

Allaire left a note for Rageane on the dining table. “I am sorry we had words. Trust your heart – stop guarding it – I’ll be there when you return.” A.

She took one last look around the cottage, picked up her bags, a piece of fruit and her mug of coffee. She gently closed the door behind her. Her car started without hesitation and she was back on the road and heading north.

When I got back from my walk, I read the note on the table, smiled briefly and went to my bedroom to just flop and think. Interestingly, Allaire used to say the opposite. “Guard your heart – never trust!” “Holy shit, what’s this?” I swore, as I saw her “tool kit” lying on the bedside table. “Oh God, she left it here for me – this is no accident.” “Three’s a crowd – guess she got a message.” “I can’t do this alone – can I?” I spoke aloud. I rummaged through it – gauze, needles, ampules of anesthesia, perfectly measured for each area, muscle relaxers, betadine solution, banders, clamps, scalpels, scissors, sutures, tape, gloves, clear glass jar with preservative, and “Mr. Nasty” the elastrator.

With that, I heard Reilly scoot and “haroooo” at the screen door. My heart thumped right up to my throat. “Anyone home?” his familiar voice was soft and gentle.

I pulled my hair behind me in a clip and walked to face Max. Brother Max. He was alone. “Where is Sirach?” I asked. “He is out by the shed waiting.” “He does not travel well in the daylight,” was his reply. “Feeling better?” he asked, noticeably taking in my retched appearance. “Uh, yeah, rough night, you know?” I stuttered. “Are you ready?” he asked slyly. “Ready for what?” my tone was indignant. “To, talk, to talk. There is much to share and very little time,” he cooed and patted the chintz sofa.

“You know, I heard your prayers, you begged me to find you – took a while – but I’m here now. “ “You look lovely – the gray hair is beautiful.” “Sobriety serves you well, dear, you are positively glowing,” he continued.

I interrupted. “Please tell me what happened. We haven’t spoken since that dreadful July day.”

“Your family called me and said you were being taken to detox, that you had tried to kill yourself and they asked for my help.” “They told me to stay away from you – all the lies and betrayal. You hurt me, you know,” he conceded. “Yes, I did and for that I’m truly sorry,” I said tearfully. “I got your letters and some were forwarded to me. They made me cry, little one,” he offered simply.

He stood up and looked at the mantle. “My life has been so different since we spoke. The cancer, well, it’s fibrosarcoma; no known cure. I gave into the surgery and hence my mangled neck and jaw. I have traveled the world to seek healing. The Brothers in Hickory invited me to live with them, live a prayerful life, comfort others in their spiritual dilemmas and so I figured, “What profit a man if he has the world, but sells his soul… well, you know the quote, my Catholic one.” So, I sold the business, the houses, set everyone up for life, and now I have truly retreated from the world I knew and walked through.” “But there is that gnawing, that chewing at my innermost place.” “I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.”

“And you, what have you found?” he asked with a smile. I put my feet underneath me and wiggled a bit. “First of all, there is a peace I’ve never knew existed in my sobriety. I promised never to be boring, and I sought out the things I loved to do best and tried things I never dreamed of, but sadly, all throughout, I was missing you, dying to tell you things, trying to talk to you in my dreams. To tell you I was good and as whole as I could be, but without you, it was not quite complete.” “I fucked it up with you – from the beginning.” “I should have never dreamed that we would be anything more than casual lovers.” “That’s where I went wrong, Max, terribly wrong.” He walked to me and lifted my chin. “I told you and you knew there were to be no promises, no commitments, no white-picket fence.” I caressed his manicured fingertips. “Yes, but I had to dream myself out of that dreadful marriage.” “I had hopes like a young schoolgirl. Now, here I am in love with “my priest”! “Care to be forgiven?” he offered. “Yes, with everything in me, I desire your forgiveness.” “And what is my penance, Brother Max?” I asked with suspicion. “First I make love with you for this whole day and evening, and then, eat sparingly, make love again and then, you must do what I ask.”

In that instant I knew what lay ahead. It would be what it was. The finality of it all felt like a crushing yet exhilarating blow to my chest. I could not say “No” to this man. Ever. It were as if I were chained to him with heavy mail with no release, and I didn’t seek it.

He gathered me up and we strode to the bedroom. I hadn’t showered and I knew I must have looked like hell, but neither of us cared. We stripped and lay on the bed. Just touching. Were we both real? Our hands instantly went to each other’s chest – to feel the breath and energy that was passing. Nothing else existed in those moments as eye met eye and breath countered breath. He caressed my hip with his other hand. “You’ve filled out quite nicely – no more little boy look.” “You are a beautiful woman, Rageane.” “Oh, God,” I gasped. Your touch is as it always was – sacred, burning, fulfilling!” “Yessssss,” he whispered. “Touch me more everywhere,” I begged. His hardness was against my thigh and I felt the wetness drip out of me. “I must taste you, all of you, deep inside you,” he continued, moving down to put his face between my legs. “Good girl, trimmed but not full yet.” “Ah, yes, it is only September.” He licked and flicked and found that huge clit of mine like it had been yesterday. He lapped and caressed it with his tongue. I was falling over a crevice. “Oh, God, Oh Max, ahhhhhhhhh.” My body squirted cum all over him in a deluge. “Yes, give it to me. Give it all to me, now.” He licked me and fingered me at the same time, making me moan. My nails were embedded in his hair and his back, pulling his face to me. “Fuck my face, Rageane, that’s it.”

We turned over and we 69’d until I thought I’d die. He came in my mouth so hard I couldn’t swallow all of it. We were covered in sweat and cum and luscious phermones. He allowed me to tie up his balls with my hair twist and he put them inside of me while I stroked him with frenzied abandon. I came over and over again with joy and determination that this memory would las a lifetime. His cum was all over my belly and I rubbed it into my skin, as if that would forever act as a balm to my broken heart.

Finally, we made love missionary style. His thrusting was devastatingly desperate. Our eyes and nostrils were flaring and focused. I threw myself away and bucked with him while the old bed creaked and moaned, just like my own bones. For an old woman, I had never fucked like this in my life. There was a point where he stopped. “All these years, you’ve begged me to cum inside you, and I wouldn’t – I held back because to me that meant commitment. Tonight you are my whore and my lover, my tormenter and savior altogether.” “So, dear one, get ready for your wish.” “But you’re a…” he hushed me with his finger. With that, we bucked and fucked until I felt for the first time in 16 years a man’s cum inside me. The rush was incredible – like a virgin meeting her beloved for the first time. In unison we came. I felt myself floating out of my body and cried and moaned his name. “Max, my love, Oh God, Max!” I felt the shudder of his body as he relaxed. We fell together to the bed and held one another and stroked each other until we drifted off to a short, brief nap. The sunlight was fading and soon the night ahead awaited us.

And so, we ate a lite supper and feasted on each other’s naked bodies. I let him build a fire and watched him as he too touched the mantle he had created. It was so perfect, too perfect. These were moments that one captures in your heart forever. All the loneliness, rage and fear fades away and it’s nothing but this magic piece of history.

We walked to the bedroom and I turned on the lamps. They were suitable. I drew a bath for both of us and we steeped, scrubbed, and threw bubbles at each other. Kissing and kissing so deeply that I felt like I was being devoured and poured into him.

We rubbed one another dry and walked hand in hand to “our bed.” “It’s time, Rageane.” “Your penance will now be complete.” “Have faith. What you will do will give me great joy, and I will be able to live the rest of my days reliving this beautiful moment we have shared.” “You, my dear, will go on and do great things.” “You have an amazing heart – one that is seldom found and appreciated. You are cherished and you are loved.” “Remember, before you are half way through you will be amazed!” I could feel the tears falling down my cheeks.

I knelt in front of him. “Max, you are sacred to me. I would do anything you ask of me.” “Please, now that you’ve found me, don’t leave again.” He quieted me with a hug. “Where I go from here, trust me, you will feel my presence. I will always be a part of you.” “Come, now, let’s finish this.”

I layed heavy towels on the bed. There were rubber sheets on top of the mattress. We had them from our nephews coming down and visiting. I sat between his spread legs. “I love you. I always have. Once I begin I can’t stop, you know.” “So, this is it, no backsliding.” “I’m ready, are you?”

I nodded and opened the large bag. I carefully put a dinner tray on the table and laid out methodically all that I would need and also a cell phone in case of 911 emergency. “Help me, I’m castrating a priest and he’s bleeding!” Like someone’s really going to believe that one! My bizarre sense of humor hits at the oddest moments.

With gloved hands, I gently swabbed the testicle area, his anus and his penis, which was hard and swollen already. He took a Darvocet to relax him. With the tape I wrapped his cock upward toward the bellybutton, allowing the tip to show, just for my enjoyment. The anesthesia was injected into each testicle, into the groin and muscle.

While we waited, I sang to him, songs of the sea that he loved so much. He giggled when he couldn’t quite remember the lyrics to “On the Way to Cape May.” It was simply beautiful. “The rythym of my heart is beating like a drum, with the words, I love you rolling off tongue. Never will I roam, for I know my place is home Where the ocean meets the sky, I’ll be sailin’.” We sang together and smiled. After all these years, our harmony was pure and solid.

Time now. It is time. I looked deeply into his eyes for what might now be the last time. I tugged at his balls. “Are these MINE?” I asked. “Yes, they are,” he answered breezily. “Just making sure,” I said. “Okay, darling, it’s time for the first cut.” “Let me know if you are uncomfortable and I’ll try something else.”

Steadily I took the scalpel in hand. I had tilted the old fashioned mirror so he could see what I was doing. “I love you, Max.” I sliced gently into the right testicle, feeling the slight twinge as he moved. A bit of blood spit at my tee shirt. I tried to joke “I love tye-dye, don’t you?” “I’m going around the outside layer, now.” “Can you see allright?” “Yes,” he replied, amazed at his own body. “I’m going to pull at it a bit and hopefully it’ll pop out. “ This was unbelievable. Inside I was praying I wouldn’t butcher this for him. I remembered technique from Allaire and I wasn’t quite sure. I took a breather to try to remember what to do next.

I sliced more and I could now see the sac tearing away and showing me the little nut inside. “Do you see it?” “There it is,” I pointed with my other gloved hand. “You’re doing so well, Max.” He was growing excited and his penis was swelling and juicing. “When you pull it out, suck me off, please,” he begged.

With that I pulled it away from the skin casing. It was veiny and looked like a small piece of chicken. Quickly I went to suck his cock. “Ah mamma, you love me, don’t you?” he moaned. “Yes, darling, you are mamma’s good boy, now.” He lurched and came in my mouth like a torpedo. I swallowed and kissed his mouth. “Taste your seed, my lover.” Again I went back to the task at hand and severed the cord and tied it off quite expertly, thank you very much. I clamped the bleeders and began to stitch. I placed his testicle onto the lid of the jar and put it in his hand. As I stitched, he marveled at it. I did not speak and let him revel in his own spiritual orgasm.

The left testicle gave me problems. He was so swollen down there. The sac itself was tough like rhino skin. It took me forever to cut it away. I took the lid from Max and put it at the ready for the last piece of life-giving orb. I felt a warm glow as I positioned myself to take it, and take it I did. “Darling, you are now a eunuch.” I placed it with the other on the top of the lid. I tied up the cord and stopped a lot of the bleeding. Before I could again painstakingly stitch, I handed it to him.

“My penance. God forgive me,” I teared up. He held it to his lips, and kissed them both. “Thank you Rageane. You are forgiven.” “We can now go in peace to love and serve others.”

I finished the stitching and placed a packing around the area. I took the jar lid from him and put them on the bedside table. “You need to sleep now, Max.” I wrapped the heavy down comforter around him and kissed him slightly on the cheek. The endorphins must have kicked in because his face was placid as a gentle sea. “I’ll check in on you in an hour.”

I washed up in the bathroom and disposed of the tray of tools and syringes carefully double bagging them for disposal at a waste facility.

I must have dozed off in the chair, as I awoke to the howling of Sirach outside. I was not going to let that creature in this house. He stood watch outside the bedroom window – waiting for his master and just paced and intermittently putting his paws on the windowsill.

Each hour I checked on Max, feeling his pulse, looking at the stitches and generally admiring the sleeping figure in my bed. At 2:00 a.m. I gave him some brewed green tea and another Darvocet. He was uncomfortable, so I untapped his penis and let him pee in a jelly jar. His head was woozy. I held him to my breast and soothed him softly back to sleep.

I curled up next to him trying not to disturb his tenuous slumber. Tomorrow would be a new day – and his life would begin again and mine would be a road trip home to what I knew was familiar and sound. "Max, grow old with me," I whispered.

Our paths would probably never cross again and I was resigned to that. But, I had fulfilled his wish and he had fulfilled mine. If I weren’t so old, perhaps his seed would have grown a baby. But that was not to be. Thus, his name will not carry on in this generation or the next.

The next day, we inspected my handiwork and he was pleased. It would take days before he could feel less pressure on his bladder and start any kind of real recovery. He asked me to take him and Sirach to the cottage a few blocks over where his truck was stored.

“Hey, you! Smile, would you?” “Show me those pearls!” I smiled half-heartedly and felt this sinking pain in my gut.

I packed Sirach and Max into the Volvo and drove three minutes to his cottage. When he got out, I knew it was over. The magic and the mystery had come to an end. He leaned into me. “You have restored me. You have restored yourself. I’m really proud of you!” I didn’t know how to handle the finality of this “goodbye.” The tears were coming down my cheeks. He wiped them away and held his hand to my face.

I had to ask. “Will you find me again, Max?” He looked at me with those dazzling blue eyes. “You found yourself, love. You don’t need me.” “That’s all I ever wanted for you – to find yourself.” “I was the rung on the ladder to your inner peace.” “What is freely given is freely received.”

“Take care of yourself, Max!” “I love you. If you ever change your….” And I stopped there. I put the car into gear and drove back to Cottage Avenue. Allaire’s car was in the driveway. I ran into her arms. “It’s done.” “Yes, I know.” “I wanted to give you time.” “I just wanna go home, now,” I sighed. “Yes, Rageane – you need to go home.” “Will I ever see….” I began. She shook her head sadly at me. “No, I’m afraid not.” “But you will recognize his soul in the next life, trust me!”

She helped me pack and close up the house. Reilly bounded into the Volvo. We embraced one final time and I was on my way. Home.

*Author's Note: Nothing is ever final or over - it's always a beginning. The saga continues. Perhaps these three will find love and each other. If there is hope for the flowers..... Thanks for reading.