The Fifty List

The Fifty List series:

The Fifty List (Book 1)

The Other Side of Fifty (Book 2)

Fifty More (Book 3)

The Innocent Flame of Seduction – A Tale of Love and Loyalty in Medieval Ireland

www.darlenehesley.com

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I owe great thanks to all those who assisted me in the production of The Fifty List.

Your help and support was invaluable.

Bruce, Crystal, Elaine, Heather, Kristin,

Lee, Mark, Nathan, Pat, Vicki

And last, but certainly not least…

Mulder and Scully

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Books by Darlene Hesley

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Chapter sixteen

Chapter seventeen

Chapter eighteen

Chapter nineteen

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty-one

Chapter twenty-two

Chapter twenty-three

Chapter twenty-four

Chapter twenty-five

Chapter twenty six

Chapter twenty-seven

Chapter twenty-eight

Chapter twenty-nine

Chapter thirty

Chapter thirty-one

Read the Sequel

About the Author

Chapter one

I’ll always be younger than you…just remember that, she typed.

Thanks for reminding me, her friend replied seconds later. Pam laughed at the emoticon with the tongue sticking out.

It had become a Saturday night ritual for them to check Facebook and see if the other one was online for a girl-to-girl chat. Most often, Pam would have an enormous glass of red wine not far from her computer mouse, while Hannah would never be without her rice chips and hummus dip. Pam had checked twice earlier but didn’t see Hannah on chat, so she went back to writing yet another steamy chapter of her latest X-Files fanfiction. Mulder had Scully pinned up against the wall in their basement office and things were about to get hot and juicy.

It was Hockey Night in Canada and Pam’s husband was at the other end of the rec room, engrossed in witnessing the Leafs heading into their fourth straight loss. He was quietly relaxing with a can of Pilsner Urquell balanced on his knee. Pam was happy he wasn’t one of those guys who yelled at the TV screen while watching sports. She heard him let out a spontaneous whoop every now and then when the Leafs scored. Of course, it was the Leafs, so the whoops were – thankfully – few and far between.

She glanced at the TV screen...4-2 in favour of the other guys. Dave would either be in the mood for nothing later on, or he’d want some consolation. Pam grinned inwardly at the thought and turned her attention back to the computer.

Hannah had typed a message while Pam had been contemplating Canadians’ baffling attraction to hockey.

C’mon, you know I don’t believe in stuff like chronological age. It doesn’t mean anything. There are some cultures that don’t even believe in the passage of time. Besides, I’m pretty sure there has been an error.

The message stopped there. Pam decided to wait her out for a moment, but the chat box remained silent. What the hell does she mean by that? Hannah could be cryptic – and they enjoyed playing little mind games with each other on chat. Pam let another full minute pass – an absolute eternity for the two of them not to respond to each other.

Finally, she typed a full colon and a number 3 to create her signature mustachioed emoticon and typed, ERROR?????? Hannah’s response was immediate. She must have already typed something and had her finger hovering over the ‘enter’ key.

Yes, an error. There must have been an error somewhere along the way. Someone obviously miscalculated by 10 or 20 years. A mathematical error must have occurred. They happen all the time, you know. There’s simply no way I could possibly be 50!

Hannah had ended her message with an emoticon expressing alarm, its mouth gaping wide in a perfect circle. Pam barely skipped a beat as her fingers flew across the keyboard again.

Hmmmm…..yes, my friend, mathematical errors are indeed common. But as you already hit the big five-oh three months ago, I think it is too far late to check the accounting. I, on the other hand, have almost five months to correct any bookkeeping errors.

Pam and Hannah bantered back and forth for another hour, lobbing humorous insults, bitching about work, discussing recent books they’d read and making suggestive comments about each other’s husbands.

A few years ago, Pam couldn’t have imagined having a conversation like this on a computer, but Hannah was enthusiastic about the technology and encouraged her to try it. Pam had since come to appreciate the rhythm of the written tête-à-tête and the fact that she had time to think about what she would say without the perception of Hannah staring directly into her soul – as she did when they were face-to-face. She had a perfect image in her head of Hannah sitting in her house in London in her customary peasant costumes, waist-length wild blond hair pulled back into braids with colourful ribbons. Hannah, she thought, was the very epitome of the word quirky.

Pam’s butt was getting sore from sitting in the chair so long and she made up an excuse to exit chat. She really did love Hannah, but her friend was intense, even on a long-distance computer conversation. She also wasn’t used to being so adored. Hannah was very open about her feelings and often expressed her affection for her in their chats. It made Pam feel good, but it also made her uncomfortable. There was only so much ‘Hannah’ she could handle.

I have three art classes to teach tomorrow, so I guess I’d better get some shut-eye too. That is, if Raj lets me – heehee! Hannah had met Raj not too long after her marriage broke up five years ago. She refused to get married again but they lived together and she was deeply in love with him. Her opinion was that marriage was a one-time commitment and anything else was a gift the universe delivers to you. Regardless, she always referred to Raj as my husband.

Have a good night. Love you, babe. Kisses, Hannah signed off.

Pam looked at that last line and sighed. I really enjoyed our talk tonight. Take care. Reluctantly, she added, Kisses, before exiting.

Pam backed her chair away from the computer, stretched and glanced at the TV. Don Cherry was shouting something about body armour on hockey players. His partner, Ron McLean, was scowling. After more than 40 years of witnessing other people watch hockey, Pam still had no clue about the rules and no desire to learn them. That Cherry guy, though, he was a character. He always seemed to be screaming about something and letting his mouth get him in trouble. Dave never missed watching his Saturday night rant.

Pam walked over behind Dave’s chair. She placed her hands on his shoulders, nuzzled her nose into his curly, reddish-blond hair and kissed the bald spot on the top of his head. Dave reached up with his left hand and absently stroked her fingers. He let that hand drop to his knee and lifted his tall beer can with the other, taking a long swig. Pam patted his shoulders, left the rec room and headed upstairs.

Pam puttered around in the kitchen for a while, unloading the dishwasher and making a shopping list for Sunday. She looked in the fridge and decided to buy plenty of groceries to keep the kids from driving her crazy all week. Since they’d become teenagers, Samantha and Dylan had developed a keen sense of what they did and did not like. The problem was, they were so different. Dylan was an impeccably healthy eater, while Samantha craved carbs and sweets. They had both started out so alike. Pam often wondered how they could be so different now.

She worried what it would be like for them to be off on their own. Samantha was in Grade 12 and the school year was soon drawing to a close. She’d applied to five universities and was accepted to every last one. Pam had to admit her daughter was one of the brightest young women she had ever met. Must be all those carbs. Pam added potatoes and pasta to her shopping list.

Despite her carb cravings, Samantha was tall and willowy. She had strong, bold features and Dave’s ice-blue eyes and curly hair – although hers was blonder than his. Dylan, on the other hand, had his father’s tall, burly frame, but his mother’s straight dark hair and dark eyes. Her children couldn’t have looked much different.

The kids were both off with friends tonight, mooching food from other moms, but they’d expect the fridge to be full tomorrow. She’d get what she could in town. The shopping was a bit limited in Stouffville, so she’d have to get whatever else she needed in the city during the work week. Their town was just a 45-minute drive from the office, but sometimes it felt like a world away. Actually, that was the primary reason why they had chosen to buy outside of the city – that and the outrageous real estate prices in Toronto. They had a split level house with a nice backyard. It probably would have cost double in the city. Pam also liked to dabble in gardening, and the city lots were so tiny, it was hardly like having a backyard at all.

Samantha and Dylan were only one grade apart in school. Dylan had been something of an ooops baby, as Pam had become pregnant while still breastfeeding Samantha. She thought breastfeeding was an effective form of contraception – but was proven wrong. Dylan was born late in the year and was always one of the youngest kids in his class. Maybe that’s what makes him so different.

Dylan had always been challenging. He too was a very bright child, but had developed a confrontational streak at the age of two. He was 17 and that streak hadn’t let up yet. Everything was a battle. He often trashed his room, but since he became a teenager, Pam often didn’t know whether the mess was from a thorough trashing, or just everyday slothdom.

His moods swung from dark and venomous to overly energetic and cheerful. He never argued with his father, but seemed to delight in tormenting his mother. He acted a bit immature for his age and was often loud and unreasonable. Pam found his ever-changing moods exasperating. I never know from day to day which way things are going to go with him. Pam added mixed salad greens to her shopping list for her health-conscious son.

Pam had long suspected Dylan was bi-polar. She had discussed it many times with Dave, but he would never agree to have Dylan tested. Dave had always been the type of person who walked through life with ‘rose-coloured glasses.’ If a subject was negative or even remotely unpleasant, he would rather pretend it didn’t exist than discuss it. He preferred to stay on an extremely even keel emotionally and never seemed to get either too thrilled or too worried about anything. Pam found that frustrating. She also thought it completely ironic that Dave sold life insurance for a living. He could acknowledge that death happened, but he couldn’t deal with the thought that anything distressing or painful could happen in the period between birth and death.

Pam tucked her grocery list into the notepad holder hanging beside the fridge. It had gotten quiet downstairs. That meant the hockey game was over. Dave trudged upstairs, empty beer can in hand. He came into the kitchen and tossed it into the recycling bin.

So, what happened with your team tonight?

Dave shrugged. They lost in a shoot-out.

Pam had a vague idea what a shoot-out was. Does that mean they still get a point?

Dave smiled and came over to where she was standing, wrapping his arms around her. You’re learning. That’s my girl, he said, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

That’s because I have such a good teacher. I’ve learned a lot of things over the past 21 years, wouldn’t you say?

Dave cocked his head to one side and wiggled his eyebrows. Care to show me what you’ve learned, hon?

 Only if you’re good. Pam shoved him away. See you in a few minutes.

Dave smiled, nodded and headed to the bedroom. At least there was one thing that Dave got excited about – sex. Pam completed tidying the kitchen before going to the bathroom. She studied her face in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. She had wrinkles around her dark brown eyes, but her skin was healthy looking with rosy undertones. Pam figured her full cheeks were probably saving her from too many wrinkles. She’d noticed that really skinny women had far more wrinkles than her. She leaned closer to the mirror and scanned her face. Is this what a 50-year-old broad looks like?

Dave had turned 50 three years ago, and he didn’t see what all the fuss was about. Pam didn’t really mind turning 50, but she refused to get her hair cut short or let it go grey like a lot of other women she knew who had hit that particular milestone. Her dark brown hair (which her stylist called ‘burnt nutmeg’) was cut in long, shaggy layers that reached just past her shoulders. After she finished with her teeth, she took a brush and swept her hair back. It was parted on the side and had a tendency to fall over one eye, but she kind of liked that. Pam loved classic movies and thought the drooping hair made her look a bit like Veronica Lake, an actress and pin-up girl from the 1940s.

Dave was already in bed by the time Pam came into their room. He was wearing the bright yellow Homer Simpson boxer shorts she had given him for a giggle last Christmas. She headed for the closet, disrobing slowly and throwing everything into the laundry basket. She was aware Dave was watching – but pretending not to.

Don’t cover up, she heard from behind her.

She turned her head. What?

Skip the nightshirt, okay? Dave was ogling her. You don’t need to cover up. I’ll keep you warm, he said, patting the bed beside him. He was horny and in a playful mood – after all – the Leafs had scored a point.

Pam closed the closet door, locked the door to their bedroom and walked to the bed naked. She crawled onto it extremely slowly and stopped on all fours in front of her husband, leering down at him. She fixed her eyes on his Homer shorts and saw the immediate effect she was having on him. Pam loved that she could still influence him this way. As for her, sex was better the past few years than it had ever been. She delighted in the way her body was so quick to respond and chalked it up to raging mid-life hormones.

Dave felt the stirring in his shorts, which quickly morphed to a throbbing as Pam leaned down and pushed her lips onto his. Feeling her mouth open slightly, Dave swept his tongue across her lower lip. Reaching up, he felt her body shiver. Dave had always loved the way his wife shivered when he kissed her. It made kissing something special – almost worth missing a hockey game for.

Her tongue travelled across his lips, the tip of it lapping at the edges of his mouth, making him want to devour her. Dave marveled that after 21 years of marriage, she still knew how to ignite him.

Dave made his way to Pam’s ear again and whispered, Are you toying with me, or do you really mean this? He received the answer he was hoping for when Pam swiftly crawled on top. She rubbed her torso across him lightly, tickling herself with his soft, full, fuzzy belly. Dave’s head started spinning as Pam pressed herself into his groin.

Hey, take it easy, he said. I’m not 15 anymore. They both snickered. Pam dismounted her husband and rolled onto her side, facing him and pushing firmly into him. Dave pushed a hand in between them and caressed her breasts, feeling her grow hard beneath his fingertips.

Pam’s breasts were ample and soft. Age had made them less firm but no less lovely. Pam secretly loved her D-cup breasts, which were round and generous with small pink nipples. She’d always had a ‘full figure,’ complete with wide hips (Dave called them breeder’s hips), but her waist was small and created great curves in clingy clothing. At five-foot-seven, her curvy shape fit her frame well. She was never one to hide her attributes and loved the admiring eye of her husband both in and out of bed.

Dave kissed and nibbled the warm flesh at the top and sides of Pam’s breasts, stroking her nipples with his thumbs. She gasped as he placed his mouth fully over her left nipple, alternately sucking and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. Her breasts grew hot as he worked his way from right to left and back again. Pam’s breathing was already becoming ragged. She grasped his hand and gently pushed it down.

Dave let his fingers graze her pubic hair. As he heard Pam moan, Dave let his fingers roam, finding her crease and running them up and down the silky, moist flesh. He reached further with his fingers, finding her wettest spot, and explored inside.

Pam whimpered as Dave worked his fingers in and out and up and down. He sucked on her right nipple at the same time and she started to move her hips, thrusting them up to meet the rhythm of his hand. He continued to play with her for several minutes, relishing the noises he heard. Her breath was coming out in short bursts. Dave pushed his body into her, his hardness reaching her thigh for some much-desired contact.

Keeping his hand between her legs, Dave kissed his way up to Pam’s collarbone and along the side of her neck. She was starting to squirm. His cock, which was rubbing itself into Pam’s hip, was still throbbing.

Pam’s eyes opened wide. Dave nodded almost unconsciously, pushed his shorts off and climbed onto her. Once again he toyed with her moistness, then withdrew his hand and wiped her slickness onto his tip and shaft, entering her slowly.

Dave felt like exploding, but he held himself still and enjoyed the moment for as long as he could before his body started to take over. He thrusted slowly and deliberately, pressing and holding himself to her mound each time to pleasure her most sensitive area. He kissed her gently and Pam began to move her hips upward to meet his thrusts, her breath escaping in little pants.

Harder, she pleaded. I need you to fuck me harder. Her hands trailed up and down his sides as he moved. At one point, she stopped stroking with her hands and started digging into his sides with her fingers. Dave was happy she didn’t have long nails, but nonetheless, it hurt.

Dave felt something change beneath him. Pam was quivering and her cheeks had that familiar flush. She was writhing under him. Her hands had stopped digging in, but they tightened on the sides of his body. With one deliberate movement, Pam thrust her hips upward and held them there. She shut her eyes tightly. Her head and shoulders arched back. An animated groan escaped her throat. It hit Dave as much as it did her – like a shock wave going through his body as he felt her tighten beneath him and grip his cock, pulsating over and over around it.

Dave was so close, but knew from experience that Pam always wanted him to keep thrusting at this point. A full minute passed before Pam opened her eyes again and gazed up at her husband. Her mouth was closed, but her lips were turned upwards and her eyes were fiery. Dave’s body was screaming for release.

Pam instinctively wrapped her legs and arms around Dave’s back as he moved in and out of her. He kept his thrusting slow, teasing himself to the point of near madness. Dave tried to stop altogether but that didn’t last long. Within seconds he was moving again and felt a thrill start low in his belly.

He willed himself not to close his eyes, looking down at Pam and seeing her encouragement. She looked as excited as he felt and that threw him right over the edge. He looked her into her eyes as he came, the muscles in his arms shaking as he filled her.

The couple kissed each other’s necks, but weariness soon took over. Dave withdrew and they fell away from each other. Both lay spread eagle and drenched. It took a few minutes for either of them to move or speak. Pam turned her head toward Dave and found him already looking at her. They joined hands, but otherwise could not yet move.

God – you’re a wild woman tonight! Dave exclaimed.

See what having the kids out of the house does?

We gotta kick those kids out more often, Dave chuckled.

As usual, Dave fell asleep quickly, but Pam felt wide awake. She lay there nude, caressing her own body. Orgasms always left her feeling slightly hyper, but it was a feeling she savoured. She reached down and felt the stickiness Dave had left there. She’d want to go into the bathroom and sop up with a nice hot cloth before she went to sleep, or she’d wake up feeling gooey between the legs. For now, though, she enjoyed toying with the slickness that coated her still-engorged flesh. She ran slippery fingers over her clit and marveled at how sensitive it was. Pam thought for a moment about continuing to rub herself to go for a second O but decided against it, as she’d take forever trying to fall asleep afterward. She figured sleep was a pretty good option.

Finally starting to feel some weariness, Pam went to the bathroom to tidy up and have one last pee for the night. She came back to bed, slipped on a short nightshirt, and climbed in. Despite concerns about lying awake, she fell asleep with ease.

Sunday morning was lazy. Dave got up at 8 a.m., but Pam stayed in bed for a couple of hours longer. She savoured the feeling of complete luxury, cocooned in warmth with every muscle relaxed. As much as she liked having Dave sleeping beside her, it felt wonderful on the occasions when she had the king-sized bed to herself, drinking in the solitude and quiet. Even after she was awake and alert, she continued to snuggle into the bedding, eyes closed. If I didn’t have a stomach or a bladder, I think I’d be happy to lay here forever.

But she did have a stomach and she did have a bladder and they both eventually started to complain. Pam grudgingly pushed off the duvet at 10:15 a.m. and headed to the bathroom. Her stomach growled on the way there.

She heard stirrings elsewhere in the house. Samantha and Dylan had both come home just past 1 a.m., but in her exhausted slumber, Pam never heard them enter the house. Deciding to shower later in the day, she dressed and headed downstairs for some breakfast – and some strong, black coffee.

Sunday rolled along like most others. The kids raided the fridge. Pam went shopping and filled it. The kids raided the fridge again. She put some healthy food items on the top shelf that she hoped they would take to school for lunch tomorrow. Dave was in the garage trying to get the lawn mower in shape. It was the first week of April and it was the warmest spring she could remember in years. The grass was already growing long.

Pam sat at the computer for a couple of hours in the afternoon. She was busy adding another couple of chapters to her X-Files fanfiction. This one was hotter than ever and she found herself aroused and squirming just writing it. This one will probably get me arrested! The X-Files was her favourite show, even though it had ended a decade ago. There was something about the relationship between the two FBI agents, Scully and Mulder, which tugged at her heart like no other.

She’d discovered fanfiction a couple of years ago while surfing the Internet for nothing in particular. At first, she thought it was bizarre, but soon became fascinated with the possibilities. Before starting at the public relations firm, she’d worked for years as a reporter and had a way with words, but never saw herself as a fiction writer. But here were characters she already loved, fully developed – and she could make them do anything she wanted! It was the perfect escape into a fantasy world.

Pam’s first few stories allowed her to fill in gaps left out of the show by writers and producers who teased the audience with the flirtatious dance between Mulder and Scully. She immediately got the pair exactly where the real fans always wanted to see them – between the sheets. To her utter shock, the stories were devoured. She had thousands of hits from around the world upon publishing her first two stories. Many added her to their ‘favourite authors’ list. Pam squeaked with delight when she received reviews of her fiction. It was addictive and she was soon writing novella-length stories.

Pam glanced over her latest story and mused at the sheer silliness of it all. Sometimes she wondered if she wasn’t a bit bonkers. Mulder and Scully weren’t real, but they somehow felt real to her. She thought about them all the time – what they’d do, what they’d say, how their personal story could have ended differently.

Is that nuts? Oh well, there are people all over the world who belong to Sherlock Holmes societies and he’s not real. They dress up in costumes and spend thousands of dollars to go to England and everything. All I do is sit at a computer and let my over-active imagination go wild.

That evening, she sat and watched a Michael Palin travel documentary with Dave. They both hoped to travel extensively throughout the world once the kids were out of the house for good. This series was about the Pacific Rim, but most of the places were so crowded, it didn’t really inspire her to want to visit them. Regardless, some of the natural landscapes were spectacular and it did make her dream of jetting away to someplace exotic.

When the show was over, she and Dave talked about the week ahead. Dave had some new clients he was trying to get on board. At Pam’s office, a new guy was starting – something to do with social media. Dave sneered at that. Twitter guy, huh? Pam shrugged.

The couple was far too weary for sex on Sunday night and Dave needed some extra sleep time. Pam had a 45-minute drive to work, but Dave’s could be almost 90 minutes some mornings, driving clear across the city to the west end of Mississauga. At least Dave’s workplace paid for him to take the Highway 407 toll route. Dave said the insurance firm’s traffic fatality stats indicated the main road across the top of Toronto, Highway 401, had a higher than average risk ratio. The firm discouraged employees from travelling on it.

Pam snuggled up behind him in bed, lifting her nightshirt so her breasts made contact with his back. Dave’s body was like a human blast furnace and the warmth radiating off him soon made her sleepy. He was making small snoring noises by the time Pam rolled over to her side of the bed. She pulled her nightshirt back over her breasts and tucked her down pillow under her neck. That night, she fell asleep almost instantly.

CHAPTER TWO

On Monday morning, Pam took the elevator to the fourth floor office and it opened to the usual morning hubbub at Pinches Public Relations. Clarence Pinches had purchased the entire fourth floor of the office building near Kingston and Brimley Road in Toronto for his new firm 10 years ago. Pinches worked in public relations firms all across Canada during his early career, but at the age of 52, he decided it was time to open his own business. He only had a dozen employees when the company first opened its doors, but envisioned it growing and needing the extra space. His vision had come true – as these days the fourth floor was populated by 40 employees.

Pam had worked there for six years. She had loved her former career as a newspaper reporter, but the odd hours and commitments it took to do the job put extra stress on her family life. The PR business was more of a 9-to-5 gig, with the occasional bit of night and weekend work, so it offered her more stability and routine. Granted, being a reporter had been much more exciting, but she had become comfortable with her job and got along well with most of her co-workers.

Pinches had a penchant for hiring people from a wide variety of backgrounds. He said it made the firm more balanced and brought in a lot of fresh ideas. His 15 PR consultants came from media, advertising, retail, entertainment, transportation – and even a few who had graduated from public relations at college! Pinches always liked to throw in that last part with a chuckle when describing his company. He was a man of great humour and liked to hear laughter in the office.

Regardless, Pinches was an astute businessman and always on the lookout for people who could keep his firm growing and thriving. While many PR firms specialized in one area, Pinches felt that strategy would put up too many barriers for business and make his employees feel stagnant. He also didn’t mind straying into the realms of marketing and communications. Pinches took on clients in a variety of sectors and had a reputation for coming up with fresh and innovative ideas for them.

Pam was currently working on a branding campaign for a new company trying to get a leg up in the niche world of mature women’s athletic wear. She was certainly no athlete and never had been, but she had come up with some good ideas for marketing Empowera Athletic to the over-30 set. Pam thought many women’s athletic wear companies had sent out an overall message about