from Never Promise Forever

“I’m breathless. You’re beautiful.”

“While you take off your clothes, I’ll put in the diaphragm.” She turned around and rested one foot on a chair. A moment later, she turned back and said, “There. All safe. May I leave the lights on?”

They lay beside each other and whispered compliments between kisses.

“How did your husband ever let you go?”

“There’s more to marriage than sex. The sex was good but he was a poor excuse for a husband and father. He was married to his golf game.”

“I’m not a golfer.” He slipped lower on her smooth body, planting kisses on her ample breasts, lapping gently at her skin until he reached her vulva.

She relaxed for him, spreading her legs a bit.

He licked at her trimmed pubic hairs—blonde, all blonde—and then entered the walls of the chamber, his face buried against her warm flesh. Moist and shiny, pink, so pink. He drove his tongue deeper. It had been such a long time.

She was luscious, she was delicious. He set her moaning. He thought of that first time with Meg. Ten years had passed and he never imagined he could recapture the thrill of that first time. He was wrong.

Rodney used his fingers to excite sensations Jeanine felt inside her labia. He needed to get deeper. He replaced his fingers with his rigid erection and she moved to accommodate his entrance. She was gasping and clinging tightly as he exploded almost at once.

Resting his lips against her ear, he panted in a whisper, “I’m so sorry. It’s been too long. You had no time to come.”

“Oh, I came. For me it’s many little orgasms. I can come twenty, thirty times to your one. Tiny fireworks. Almost continuous.”

“Would you like me to go on?”

“Can you do that?”

“I stay hard after climax.”

“Really? Keep going, then.”

As he moved, Jeanine sobbed. This time he listened carefully and discerned tiny vibrations when she came. After ten more minutes, she was writhing beneath him and biting her lower lip to keep from crying out.

For an hour, they lay beside each other and stared at the ceiling, holding hands in relaxed bliss. “That’s remarkable. I’m so used to men satisfying themselves and putting on their clothes.”

“I’m weird that way; I’ve always been weird. I get harder after orgasm than during.”

“Well, that’s what I call weird in a good way. This can only get better.”

He saw Jeanine again two nights later, and again the next night. He only needed to walk down the street after dinner, fall asleep in her bed after sex, and rouse himself between two and four a.m. to dress and walk home. He considered it mandatory to be in his own bed when his daughters awoke in the morning. It was only fair, and certainly no difficulty.

How simple life is. No fears, no worries. Just sexual happiness and fulfillment. It clearly depends on the partner. Jeanine makes it easy. She’s so welcoming, so… so natural.

Sunday again. The gasoline mower roared in the yard outside Rodney’s bedroom. Ray always mowed his lawn Sunday mornings before he played golf.

Still sensing the warmth of Jeanine’s body, her moist breath on his face, the pressure of her lips on his, Rodney leaned on the windowsill and gazed at the perfection of Ray’s compact form. He just wanted to touch it, feel the hardness of his musculature, and know what it was like to stroke another man’s body.

I wish I understood me. I’m supposed to be the guy with hardly any sex drive; now I fuck like a rabbit. How can I enjoy Jeanine and still be interested in Ray? Are other men this way?