I knew that I was always welcome at mom's table or over at John, and Beth's house, but it was kind of late to just show up. If I sat at home, I'd just...get mopey. So I finally thought that if I left the country that I wouldn't have Thanksgiving in my face because other countries don't celebrate Thanksgiving, and if they do, it's on a different day.The next question was where did I want to go? It was cold, and nasty, so I could go to either Europe or Canada to ski, or I could head south across. I had not made peanut butter in a long time but someone had solved this problem by purchasing a large jar of Peter Pan peanut butter. I eyed it. Lavi pointed a butter knife at me. “If you tell me I can make my own peanut butter in five minutes I’m not making you a sandwich.”I really struggled in that moment, because it does only take a few minutes to make good peanut butter, not that I had peanuts on hand. But even I learn from my mistakes so instead, I said, “I was thinking I’m glad you got. The bruises on her cheek had changed to that horrid yellow color that, in spite of how bad it looks, signifies healing. I wanted to kiss that cheek, but settled for letting my fingers glide softly across her skin.She fluttered her eyelids open and smiled at me. She reached for my hand and held the palm against her cheek and closed her eyes gently again. We stayed that way for several minutes.All night I’d had dreams filled with memories. Simon and Brenda and me in college. My marriage and her. In retrospect, I ought to have lubricated her pussy, but then this was my first time. Any lingering doubts about what I was doing were removed as Beena took control. She started riding me in a swaying, somewhat circular motion. There was an immense pressure to release almost immediately, but I just told myself that I have to make this moment last. And so it continued, Beena riding me, moaning occasionally, sometimes looking down at me and smiling as I continued to enjoy the most pleasurable.