Forever, Blue Eyes

by Daisy Dexter Dobbs

  “I…don’t…care,” Betsy just about growled, “if it kills me.”

  Clearly restraining himself, Johnny’s cock remained where it had been but he added his thumb to her rapturous torture as it flicked over her clit. The triple delight had Betsy heaving deep, ragged breaths and her mind spinning somewhere it had never been before. The raw commotion building at her clit was so extreme it felt as if every fiber in her being had ignited. As the first surge of her orgasm rocked her, Betsy’s body jerked. Johnny gasped her ass cheeks firmly, keeping her in place as she succumbed to the violent roll and crash of each sensuous wave.

  She was minimally aware of Johnny roaring out his climax while the last vestiges of hers still vibrated deep within. Ecstasy. Bliss. Sheer and utter elation such as she’d never known before.

  Not more than ten minutes later they were wrapped in each other’s arms and they stayed that way, sleeping until the clatter of the alarm clock rudely intruded on their happiness.

  Chapter Six

  Betsy held onto to Johnny for dear life at the train station, digging her fingers into the scratchy olive-drab wool of his uniform and praying for a miracle that would somehow keep him from getting on that train. The station was filled with GIs and their girls, hugging, kissing and weeping together as they expressed their farewells.

  “I’ll write you as soon as we get wherever they’re sending us,” Johnny said. Stroking her hair, her face and her neck, he studied her as if he were trying to commit her features to memory.

  “I promise I’ll write to you everyday,” Betsy said, choking back a sob as she sprinkled his face with kisses. “Every single day, Johnny.” The night air was frigid and she could see her breath as she spoke. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake off the winter coldness that chilled her to the bone. Logically she knew it was because the chill had nothing whatsoever to with the temperature, and had everything to do with icy, gut-wrenching fear.

  She wanted—needed—to be naked with him again. To feel the comforting warmth of Johnny’s skin against hers. To feel his muscles flexing as he crushed her to his chest. To taste the sweet nectar of his kisses whenever she damn well pleased. If only she could somehow wrap herself around him, intertwining limbs until they became all but inseparable. She’d capture his beautiful cock with her pussy and keep him there inside her, safe and warm and secure. That’s where Johnny was meant to be, with her, not in some godforsaken corner of nowhere ducking bombs and bayonets and gunfire. She shuddered at the thought.

  How in God’s name could she let her beloved soldier boy go after he’d opened a whole new world to her? How could she survive without experiencing more of the blissful, heartfelt passion and intimacy they’d shared? The sexy sound of his voice, the merriment of his ready laughter, had become a part of her. It wasn’t fair to ask her to give that all up—to give Johnny up. She wanted, she deserved, more than memories to keep her warm. She wanted her Johnny, her husband, holding her close each night as they drifted off to sleep.

  Betsy didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to make it any harder for Johnny, but at the harsh, shrill pitch of the train whistle demanding Johnny’s departure, her breath caught and she openly wept.

  She and Johnny kissed. Oh, God, how they kissed. So much more was said with that single goodbye kiss than some couples convey to each other in a year’s time. As their tongues tangled he yanked her so hard against him she went breathless.

  “I have to go now, baby,” Johnny whispered. He broke their embrace, tearing himself from her arms and leaving them cold and vacant.

  “Promise me,” Betsy called out as Johnny walked backwards toward the train. “Promise me you’ll come back to me, Johnny.”

  “I’ll be back.” Winking, Johnny was clearly doing his best to give her a reassuring smile, but Betsy could still see the concern in his eyes. “I promise,” he said, climbing the stairs of the train as it started to move. “I love you, Betsy. Always.” He blew her a kiss. “Forever, blue eyes.”

  “I love you too, Johnny. I love you too!” The train picked up speed and Betsy ran alongside it as Johnny disappeared into the train car. “Always and forever, my darling Johnny,” she sobbed.

  And then he was gone.

  ———

  While the Chicago summer had been typically hot and muggy, Betsy was chilled to her very soul that sweltering day in August when she answered the door to find a delivery boy, telegram in hand.

  Betsy drew in a long, hesitant breath as she took the paper from the messenger, fearing the contents held the most heinous news possible. Her fingers trembled as she read the stark words aloud.

  “John Lakeside has been cited for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty…” As she continued to read, her head rocked from left to right in disbelief while a deep shuddering breath gripped her being.

  It had to be a mistake. Yes, mistakes like that happened all the time, didn’t they? Betsy’s thoughts raced as she fought to concentrate on their wedding day. With all her might she struggled to remember every last detail in the hopes that the power of her love could somehow bring Johnny back again. She remembered his hands on her, in her. His lips, teeth and tongue doing the most magical, marvelous things to her. And she remembered the unwavering expression of love in his eyes as he drove that sweet cock of his deep into her depths…

  A cry tore from her heart, shattering her thoughts. “No…no, Johnny, you can’t be dead! I can’t go through life without you, without ever feeling your touch again. Without ever hearing your voice… I kept my promise. I wrote and I wrote and I waited and I waited.” A wailing sob rose from the depths of her soul, flooding the room with heartache. “But you never came back, Johnny…you never came back…”

  Chapter Seven

  Christmas Eve, Present Day

  The sound of Christmas carolers outside Betsy Lakeside’s apartment at the assisted living center wafted on the cold night air. Betsy sang along with their merry warbling of “Good King Wenceslas” as she lit the last of the pillar candles lining the mantel. She fussed with the evergreen garland a while before drawing a small framed photograph from her pocket and placing it at the center. Gazing at it for a long moment, she smiled. “Merry Christmas, soldier boy.” She rimmed the silver scrollwork frame with the tip of her finger. “How handsome you were in your military uniform. I believe the term they’d use today would be hunk.” She chuckled a bit. “Oh yes, you were most definitely a hunk, Johnny.”

  The glint from the sparkling Christmas tree lights caught her attention. She loved the look of her heavily adorned tree because each ornament afforded a special memory. Most of the dangling trinkets were music-related, having come from her music students over the years. Her favorite though was the small photo of a smiling soldier and his happy young bride on the steps of City Hall. Encased behind glass in a small lightweight frame, it hung from the branch on a loop of red velvet ribbon.

  “I remember the exact moment that picture was taken, Johnny. It’s the only photo I have of us together.” As memories of their quick City Hall wedding came flooding back, Betsy sighed. That Christmas Eve more so many years ago had been the happiest day of her life, leading to the most memorable, passionate night she would ever share with a man.

  “We’d known each for just a couple of days,” she whispered, fingering the ornament and gazing at the faded image. “And I was your wife for less than twenty-four hours before you shipped out.” She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until a fat tear plopped onto her hand.

  “Oh no, that won’t do at all,” Betsy said, swiping away the tears with her fingers and sucking in a deep breath. “Our Christmas Eve’s together are a time for happy memories and celebration, Johnny, not for grieving.” She paused, listening to the carolers again. This time they sang “Deck the Halls”. Determined to keep her mood light, Betsy joined in, belting out the words with gusto. “I have so many splendid memories to keep me company,” she said, giving the old, worn photo
of Johnny on the mantle another glimpse as the carol ended. “There’s absolutely no reason for me to be bawling like a baby.”

  Rubbing her hands together in an anticipatory gesture, Betsy continued, “I’m planning to throw all my dietary restrictions out the window, Johnny. The hell with what all those damn know-it-all doctors say.” Laughing, she tottered over to sofa, plumping the pillows. “I’m going to treat myself to a decadent cup of rum-spiked eggnog and gobble up the entire plateful of home-baked Christmas cookies those nice volunteers brought by while I listen to Bing and Frankie.” She stilled, looking far off into the distance. “Remember the fun we had making those chocolate chip cookies together, Johnny?” She waited a moment, as if expecting for him to respond. “After that,” she went on with her jabbering, “maybe I’ll watch some old holiday movies and nod off in front of the TV. That’s about all the excitement I can manage for one holiday.” She laughed again.

  Betsy turned on the CD player, slipping in a disc and setting the machine to play and repeat “White Christmas”, the new Bing Crosby hit single she and Johnny had listened to on the radio that Christmas Eve. She closed her eyes and breathed in slowly, swaying softly to the crooner’s song.

  “When I close my eyes like this,” Betsy said, sashaying left and right, “I can almost believe I’m young again, Johnny. With peachy-soft skin, clear blue eyes, long brown, shoulder-length hair and plenty of pep to my step.” She opened her eyes, catching sight of her wrinkled hand gently waving through the air and sighed.

  “Reality can be such a bitch,” she groused, picturing herself the way she looked now. “I’m still a looker though,” she added with conviction. “I’ve seen the way some of those old codgers here give me the eye. And why not? I look a hell of a lot better than some of those crotchety old broads with their surly etched expressions. You know what, Johnny? If you look hard you can still see the youthful sparkle behind these aged eyes of mine.” She smiled at that. “You always liked my eyes, remember? I loved the way you always called me blue eyes.”

  She swayed to the music again, jerking to a sudden stop. “Damn!” She winced in discomfort. “I moved the wrong way again.” Arthritis and other ailments had taken a toll on Betsy’s frail, slender body, but she got around fairly well without the use of a cane or walker. The thought of meandering around with a cane made her shudder. “I may be eighty-something but I’m still a vain woman,” she said, rubbing her hip joint.

  She’d scoffed at her doctor’s recommendation to use a cane, although she realized she wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. She noticed she’d been having more trouble maintaining her balance lately. All things considered, Betsy had to admit, begrudgingly, that she was glad she’d finally listened to reason and moved into an assisted living facility with medical technicians on the premises.

  As her fingers smoothed over the bony protrusions of her hip she chuckled at the thought of being slender now. It’s a state she’d strived to attain for decades. Now it had come naturally, without any struggle on her part, simply because she rarely had an appetite, most likely due to all the medication she had to take.

  “So here I am, finally skinny at last and…well, who the hell really cares?” Betsy snickered. She thought of her former excess poundage more like a lost old friend now rather than an adversary. “Strangest of all, Johnny, is that I actually miss that soft, womanly layer of extra padding on my body. That’s something else you said you liked about me, remember?”

  She danced around for another moment, gingerly so she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall, breaking another hip. “See what’s become of me, Johnny? Somewhere along the line God decided to play a dirty, rotten trick and turn me into an old bag. But at least I can finally wear small-sized clothes.” She chuckled a bit at the irony.

  Funny, sometimes Betsy had problems recalling what she’d been doing an hour earlier and yet right now she could so clearly remember what had happened decades ago—the night she met Johnny at the USO. Tonight for some reason it was all flooding back with crystal clarity, the wartime slang, the sights, smells, sounds, what she’d been wearing and, most of all, the first time her eyes connected with Johnny’s. She trilled a dreamy sigh.

  “Remember the night we met, Johnny? Remember?”

  I remember, blue eyes.

  With a sharp intake of breath at the sound of Johnny’s voice, Betsy stilled. She’d been talking aloud to him for years and lately, over the last few weeks, there were times when she could almost swear he was talking to her too. Oh, sure, she’d always heard his voice inside her head, but this was different. Almost as if…

  It was the USO holiday dance a week before Christmas. You came with your two girlfriends. You were all decked out in a blue dress that almost matched your beautiful eyes. Our eyes met and our fingers touched as you passed me that cuppa Joe.

  “Yes…yes, that’s right,” Betsy said, envisioning the way she’d dressed that night. “Oh, and you looked so handsome and dashing in your army uniform.”

  A truer case of love at first sight I’ve never come across.

  Delighting in the seeming exchange with the long-lost man of her dreams, Betsy wondered if she’d become so senile her mind was playing tricks on her. It wasn’t exactly clear who was talking. Was it just the voices in her mind getting louder, or was it…could it possibly be…

  Yes…it’s me, blue eyes. I’m here. I’ve been with you always, tucked deep inside your heart, and now I’m here standing right beside you, Betsy. If you concentrate you can feel my arms around you.

  She filled her lungs, breathing in a deep whiff of Johnny’s aftershave, a scent she’d never forgotten even after all these years. As she felt his arms encircle her a sob spilled forth from Betsy’s throat. “No…no, not now. It’s not fair. Not when I’m old. Don’t look at me, Johnny. I’m not the same. I’m like a dried up old prune now.” Betsy hid her face in her hands.

  You’ll never be old to me, my sweet. Beneath that cloak of years I still see the same, breathtakingly beautiful young woman I fell in love with. My soul mate…my heart…my darling Betsy…

  As Bing Crosby warbled on, Betsy took a seat on the sofa, resting her head back against the high-backed cushion. “We only had those few days together, Johnny. Just a few perfect days of bliss.” The first time they’d made love was the first time Betsy had ever had an orgasm. Times were different then. She hadn’t even known such marvelous things as orgasms for women existed until Johnny had enlightened her by sending her clear over the rainbow.

  “Love, romance, passion…” she sighed on a whisper. “It doesn’t matter how old people get. It’s all still there, Johnny. Young people don’t understand that. They don’t realize that we’re still the same inside, with the same yearnings and desires. Maybe it’s a little slower to get things started, but the feelings and sensations are the same. I’ve never forgotten the way it was with us, Johnny…never…” Her eyelids fluttered shut.

  The most dreadful of all memories pricked at her consciousness as Betsy recalled the bold lettering of the telegram. She rubbed the goose bumps that suddenly rose on her arms.

  “The last words you ever said to me, Johnny, were—”

  “Forever, blue eyes.”

  Johnny’s voice was so clear Betsy could have sworn he was standing a mere few inches from her. “Yes…yes, that’s what you said…” Her eyelids cracked open and she did her best to focus. The first thing she saw was her hand resting on the sofa. It was old and wrinkly. And then she looked up, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp.

  “Come on, blue eyes,” Johnny said, holding his hand out to her. “We’ve got an appointment with eternity.”

  “What? Oh dear, I-I must be losing my mind,” she said under her breath. “Yes, yes, I remember the doctor said something about dementia the last time I saw him.” Betsy blinked a few times. The more she blinked the more solid Johnny became. “Johnny? Johnny is it really you?” If she was going crazy, then this was the best damn hallucination she could possib
ly hope to have.

  “You betcha.” He winked and gave her that gorgeous smile of his. “In the flesh. Well,” he clapped his chest, “not exactly.”

  “I’m not dreaming?” She put both hands in front of her face, wincing. “No, I can’t be dreaming because I’m old. In my dreams I’m always young.” Betsy looked up into Johnny’s eyes, a flood of emotions churning within her. Had he really come back to her at last—after all these years? She didn’t understand. It didn’t make any sense. How could he possibly still be alive—and still so young when she’d grown old?

  “It’s not the age or the outward appearance that matters,” he said in answer to her thoughts. “It’s what’s in here.” Johnny tapped his fingers against his heart a few times. “True love is ageless, just like inner beauty.” He took her hand in his, smiling warmly at Betsy. “Your worn, tired body has served you well, Betsy, but now it’s time to leave it behind. Just let go of those weary old bones, all the aches and the pain and discomfort. Don’t be afraid, Betsy. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

  “Oh, my God. Johnny! My Johnny!” Betsy held his hand against her cheek, savoring the feel of his skin against hers. “My dear, sweet, handsome soldier. It is you! You’ve really come back to me.” Excited beyond all reason, Betsy struggled to rise from her seat. A sudden overwhelming heaviness prevented her from getting up. Her eyes widened and she clutched her chest. As “White Christmas” began to play again, Betsy fell back against the sofa cushion, wiping tears of frustration from her eyes as her breath became labored. “I can’t do it. I’m tired, Johnny. I’m old and feeble and so very tired. And, oh dear God, how I miss you. How I long to be with you again.”

  “Come, sweetheart.” Johnny easily drew Betsy up into his arms, holding her close as he rocked her back and forth. “There, there, blue eyes. Everything is all right now.”

  Betsy looked into his eyes. She reached up to caress his face, stopping short when she spied her hand. With a sharp intake of breath she turned her hand front and back and then lifted her other hand, studying it too. Then she touched her face, smoothing her fingers across silky, unlined cheeks.