At this rate it would be half an hour before I could get a drink. Not that I particularly wanted to start drinking at two o’clock in the afternoon. ...But the choices in Terminal C were limited, McDonalds, Starbucks or the Wine Bar. I had already consumed two espressos. The wine bar was the only acceptable option left. It didn’t look like any of the customers would be leaving soon. The storm had come in sooner than expected and the departure board was covered with news of delayed and cancelled. Cathy, the woman that lived on the other side of me, came over for coffee one morning not long after he moved in and went on and on about how nice he was. I didn't understand her. She was a good southern girl just like me! I wanted to say something to her but for some reason I felt uncomfortable and I just let her go on until I could change the subject.Paul and I thought our perfect world had been turned on its side. Our charmed life had begun to lose some of its luster. We couldn't sit around. ...........As we adjust our pants, Fr. Joe takes the portable cd player and thenwe head downstairs to the old chapel, which has been out of use for manyyears. Stripped of statues, the old chapel is still basically intact. I sitin an old creaking pew as Fr. Joe lights a number of candles. A few of theold overhead lights are on, but many bulbs are burned out, so the light issomewhat dim. Fr. Joe positions a footstool by the old altar. As my cockpounds again in my pants, Fr. Joe slips off his. I mean, I had thought about it - what it would be like and would I find it weird or gross, and I determined that I would never go there. Never had a gay fling growing up, got married in my mid-twenties and was always attracted to women. I never stepped out on my wife and never acted out on any sexual fantasies.But then I got divorced and flung myself into a sexual reawakening in my mid-forties. I started dating a lot of women, and had the odd hooker when I was in a different city. I loved my.