Nervous

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Nervous! He asks me if I’m nervous. Of course I’m nervous! Wouldn’t you be?

“A little, Kevin,” I tell my husband.

“But you’re going to go through with it, right?”

“Probably,” I admit. If he only knew. I can’t wait for this, for the past two weeks I’ve thought of little else. Affairs are one thing, this will be something altogether different, it seems to me.

Sex has always been an important part of my life, since the moment I first kissed a boy, over forty years ago. I let a classmate have me when I was a Junior, and from then to the time I got married in my twenty-seventh year a week rarely went by when I didn’t get some. Oh, I wasn’t a slut. Except for a couple of times, I was ‘faithful’ to the guy I was dating. And it wasn’t weird stuff, no bondage or group sex or anything like that, just the simple pleasure of me and one guy, hopefully in a nice soft bed or couch or maybe the floor, I’m sort of a vanilla girl when it comes to that. But only once did I get to a point where I didn’t crave the feeling of a man’s chest on mine, my legs surrounding him.

“I told Lou you liked vodka and tonic,” Kevin says.

“That’s nice, I could use a drink.”

Boy, can I use a drink. I’m a wreck inside. Thinking about what’s going to happen has my heart pounding, my mouth’s got a cottony coating. I remember the old feelings, what it’s like to be aroused by a stranger. And I haven’t even met this man yet!

When I first met Kevin I was in a relationship, and he understood when he first asked me out on a date that I just couldn’t. But a couple of weeks later I found out my boyfriend was dating another girl, and since he wasn’t the end all to me, I phoned Kevin and told him he could take me to dinner. I was coy, that first night, I let him into my apartment and we made out, but I didn’t let him past second base. The next two dates, either, but the fourth date, wow! What really impressed me was that he didn’t try to get up in the middle of the night and sneak out, in fact he took me to breakfast the next morning. And that was that. We were engaged in three months, we moved in together, the wedding a year and seven months later was a blast, the honeymoon in the Virgin Islands was everything you could hope for, we didn’t even get sunburned.

“Are you still looking forward to this, honey?” I ask.

“I think it’ll be a lot of fun.”

We went through all the vexations of marriage. The first couple of years were great, buying a house, worrying about money, finding out we were pregnant. The decisions about sex went from let’s-do-it-now! to i-could-be-up-for-it to are-you-too-tired, but once we got in the sack it almost always went up to fantastic. Then we had little Elizabeth, and I got postpartum depression, and for the first time in my life I didn’t really crave sex. After I got over the pain – both physical and emotional – I’d let Kevin make love to me, but my head wasn’t in it. Orgasms were non-existent, Kevin never complained, but he was surly sometimes. Maybe that’s when he had his first affair, I’m not sure. In fairness, I’m not positive that he’s ever had an affair, I’ve never ‘caught’ him, not that I ever tried to. But if he did have a girl on the side, I wouldn’t have blamed him. Perhaps he’s had more affairs since.

But we got out of that cycle when I met John. He was single, in his mid-twenties, ray-bans and a t-shirt under a sports coat, he played saxophone in a band on the weekends. We met while I was browsing in this little second-hand shop, less than an hour later I was in his bed, having a great orgasm. I knew John had other women, but I really didn’t care. Whenever I could get away, he gave me exactly what I wanted, which was mainly a firm penis. It was never more than sex, and I never wanted to stay longer than an hour or two, but those ninety minutes were heavenly.

This helped in bed with Kevin, not surprisingly. He recognized my renewed interest in the ancient sport, he got his mother to baby sit one weekend, we headed for a hotel, didn’t come out of the room except to eat. A couple of years later, after I had little Steve, I never let it get to the problems we had after Elizabeth, if sex wasn’t the main goal in life it was at least an important part. A few months after it started, my affair with John was pretty much over, although we got together three or four times in the next year.

“You look very nice,” Kevin compliments.

‘I do,’ I thought. My shoulder length blond hair had been cut and colored that very morning, along with a manicure and pedicure. I spent nearly forty minutes on my makeup. I’m wearing a v-neck sheath in black and white, hem to my knees, black heels, stockings, silver earrings and bracelet and my signature rings, five including my engagement and wedding ring.

“Thank you,” I respond. “You think Lou will like me?”

“I’m sure he will. When I sent him a picture of you, he couldn’t say enough about it.”

After Steve was born, we became the perfect nuclear family, mom, dad, two kids, dog, cat, soccer practice, piano lessons, high school sports, we got them both through a bachelor’s degree. maltepe şişman escort

Then it got boring. I had a nice career, so did Kevin, we had friends and hobbies and a beautiful house, but my life was devoid without the kids.

‘What would Gabe think,’ I wonder to myself, ‘if he could see me right now, if he knew what I was planning on doing tonight. Would he be pleased for me, or would he be upset?’

I’m not the first empty-nester to try to fix my doldrums with an affair, won’t be the last. Gabe is a man who works in my building, we met in the elevator. The attraction was immediate, but with both of us being married, we resisted for the longest time. Lunches, after-work cocktails, we understood what we wanted, and then, one week when Kevin was out of town, I suggested we head to a hotel. That first time was amazing, for the next few months we couldn’t wait to get at each other. Of course we discussed how nice it would be if we could get rid of our spouses, live together, but neither of us were really unsatisfied with our lives, and so we just continued seeing each other as opportunities arose. Our relationship has been going on for four years, sometimes we see each other three or four times a month, sometimes we go months at a time without any sexual contact, it depends on the opportunities. One time, we’d both lied to our spouses, took off for a weekend, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.

I feel no guilt about my affair. If Kevin has figured it out, he’s never mentioned it. And there’s been plenty of opportunity for his own trysts, if he tells me he wants to go on a fishing trip I encourage him, if he comes home late at night I don’t pry too much if the explanation is less than candid.

But Gabe is another kink in the back of my mind. If I told him, would he be possessive, or encouraging? I don’t know.

“If you decide you don’t want me to do this,” I offer, “I’ll be happy to stop. Just say the word.”

A few months back, while we were coming home from a party, Kevin asked me about some of the men there, if I found them interesting. I gave a bland answer, although one of them was very attractive; I wasn’t about to let Kevin know that, though. And then he said, ‘I wouldn’t mind if you had an affair.’

‘Oh, I could never do that,’ I remember answering, a pure lie. And then I said, ‘Do you want to have an affair?’

‘Not really. But I think about you being with another man.’ This started a long discussion, I admitted that sometimes I fantasized about having sex with someone else, since we were in bed at the time I knew he was encouraged by that. The conversation that night ended in a non-decision, I remained cautious, and that only brought up other nights, more bed-time chats.

In my heart, I loved the idea. I’d heard about swinging, and hotwifes, and I knew that if Kevin gave me the okay, Gabe wouldn’t be the last guy I was ever in bed with. In fact, I fantasized a future of threesomes and foursomes and orgies. But I knew I had to handle it gently, if Kevin found out I wanted to become a wench in my mid-fifties, he might not be as joyful as if it remained a fantasy.

I, of course, asked him if he wanted a woman, told him it wouldn’t bother me if he did, his reaction was that down the line, maybe, but his first thought was to see me in the sack with somebody else. And, it turned out, he really meant ‘see.’ His dream is to actually be there in the room, watch me as I get naked with another man, do what comes naturally.

This request threw me. I like porn as much as the next woman, I enjoy a good sexy movie, I’m not a prude when it comes to nude scenes, particularly when the man’s genitals are displayed. But do I want to be the star in an explicit film? Do I want someone, Kevin or anyone else, to watch me as I perform erotic acts? I’m still unsure, but in the end my decision is to try it, see if I like it.

Even after I reluctantly (at least I hope Kevin saw it that way,) agreed to help him fulfill his fantasy, I still wasn’t absolutely sure. I worried, of course, what would happen to our marriage if Kevin really knew I was making love to somebody else. Talk is one thing, action is another, you don’t know how some things are going to go until after you do it, and then it’s too late. Kevin kept reassuring me, kept telling me he’d still love me, and so after five or six months, I finally threw the ball back at him. I told him that, yes, I’d have a one-night stand and yes, he could watch me, but only if he found the guy. I told him I needed to see a picture, and then I left him to his pursuit. I figured if I called his bluff, maybe nothing would happen and we’d go back to whatever we were, or maybe I’d wind up getting laid, but either way, Kevin could never say I didn’t give him the chance, or blame me for the result.

“No,” Kevin tells me, “I’m ready for this. I want you to do it!”

About ten days after I threw the gauntlet down, Kevin came back to me with information on the man he proposed was going to be my new lover. His name is Lou, he’s our age, handsome with short grey hair, blue eyes. pendik escort A naked picture of him showed a couple of extra pounds, but nothing obscene, the genitals were erect, of sufficient length. Kevin asked me if I wanted to talk to him on the phone, I told him it wasn’t necessary, and we set up a Saturday night, since Lou is divorced it’s going to be at his house.

“Is there anything in particular you want me to do?” I ask.

“Anything you want will be fine. Enjoy yourself, don’t worry about me.” I wonder what that means. If I become aggressive, will Kevin be upset, or will he think it’s neat? I’m finding there’s a fine line I need to walk, between enjoying myself, making sure that Lou has a good time, and making sure that Kevin’s satisfied and not overly jealous.

After fifteen minutes in the car, Kevin pulls into the parking lot of a townhouse complex, neat rows of brick co-ops, nice landscaping. “That’s it, there,” Kevin points to a door. I’m still a little wary of the fact that Kevin has decided we don’t need to bring a bottle of wine or a dessert, but I giggle when I remember his response, ‘I’m bringing you for him, isn’t that enough?’

We walk to the door, I ring the bell. After a couple of moments we hear footsteps and then the door opens, I see Lou for the first time. He’s even better looking than the picture, three inches taller than I, even in my heels, an unspoken air of authority about him, tailored slacks, button down shirt. He gazes at me, first into my face, which I appreciate, then down to my cleavage. I watch him take in the exposed skin popping out of my dress, then down to my legs, wrapped in nylon. I wonder if he’ll like the pattern at the top when he sees it.

“You must be Lisbeth and Kevin, right?”

“We are,” Kevin answers.

“Well, come in.” Kevin motions me in first, and Lou and I have our first awkward moment. Do we shake hands? I decide to go one better, I lean into him, place a hand behind his collar, caress his cheek with my lips. “It’s nice to meet you,” I softly say into his ear. I feel a rush of warmth as my bosom meets his chest, wonder that soon, hopefully, we’ll be this way without the hindrance of clothing. I find I want to be bold, I’m impatient now that I’m in the lair. As the cliche goes, I want it bad.

I move in, and while the men are shaking hands, I scan the environs. We’re in a foyer, off-white and sterile. Lou says, “Go on up,” and I traipse up the half flight of stairs, I bet Lou’s watching my ass. I lead into the living area, beige carpet, grey traditional sofa, matching armchair, large flat-screen. The end tables and a couple of bookcases are inexpensive dark painted wood. There’s a couple of awards on the shelves, some contemporary art on the walls, pictures of two young men, probably his sons. In the dusky light outside, I spy a patio, woods.

“Welcome,” Lou says, “can I get you guys a drink?”

“Do you have wine?” I ask.

“Sure. White or red?”

“White, if it’s open.”

“It will be soon.” Kevin requests a beer.

While Lou goes into the kitchen, I talk to him through the breakfast bar window. “Have you been here long?”

“Just a couple of months, I moved here right after we agreed to divorce. It’s not final, yet, but everything’s decided. We’re just waiting for the lawyers to do their slight of hand. I guess you can tell, huh? I needed some furniture, don’t know how long I’m going to be here, decided not to spend a fortune.”

“It could use some color,” I remark.

“A woman’s touch, ‘eh? Something that’s sadly lacking.”

I accept my wine, our fingers linger, he gazes intently into my eyes. “If you don’t mind my asking,” I query, “why did you divorce?”

“It was a long time coming. We stayed together for the kids, until finally the guys told us we were so unhappy that we should just split up. I’m trying to do right by her, she’s staying in the house, it shouldn’t be too bad on the finances. We both had a couple of affairs in the last few years, but that wasn’t what caused the problems, they were just a symptom. We just don’t much like each other anymore.”

“I’m sorry.”

He came back into the living room, Kevin and I sat on the sofa, Lou took the easy chair. “Thanks. How long have you two been together?”

I let Kevin take this one, try to make him feel a part of the group.

“It’ll be thirty next year.”

“I don’t believe it,” Lou remarks, staring at my body. “What did you do, get married in high school?” I know the compliment is a sham, but I feel enlivened by it nonetheless. I can tell Lou is interested in me, in what I’ve got for him, and the feeling is shared. “Any kids?”

“Two,” Kevin goes on, “A girl who’s married to a lawyer in Louisville, a son that’s got a job in tech on the west coast. You?”

“Two boys, Jake’s at Ohio State, Jim’s a senior in high school.”

The conversation continues, Lou is a logistics manager at a hospital, he likes golf and tennis, is thinking about joining a gym. “That’s a good place to meet girls,” I prod.

“I’m nowhere close to being in a place where pendik eskort bayanlar I could be fair to a girlfriend,” he denies, and yet from the way he is mentally undressing me, I can tell that if he doesn’t want a girlfriend, he still wants a girl.

We give him our vital statistics, how we’ve taken a few classes from Arthur Murray and want to get into it more, that I like to garden, we both enjoy jazz. The conversation begins to drag, we all know why we we’re here, but it isn’t clear how to move the action along.

“So, Lou,” I say, “I wasn’t much of a part of this, how did you find out we were looking?”

“Oh, hasn’t Kevin told you? I put up a profile on Adult Friend Finder a couple of months ago. I didn’t get much action, of course, an old fart like me can’t expect much. Some pros, of course, trolling. The messages and IMs I sent out were mostly ignored, the ones that responded were pretty weird. When I saw you guys get online, I sent out a message, and I guess it was you, Kevin, that responded.”

“We went back and forth a little bit,” Kevin continued, “and Lou seemed like a nice guy. So I showed you his info, and then I told him we were interested, and he invited us over.”

“How did you get involved in this?” Lou asks, “How long have you been active?”

“Don’t you know?” I giggle at the absurdity of the situation. Apparently, Lou thinks we’re old hands at this. “This is our first time, Lou.”

“Really! Well I feel very lucky then.” My glass is empty, Lou says, “Let me get you a refill.”

While he heads for the kitchen, I whisper to Kevin, “Why don’t you move over to the chair, honey, let Lou sit next to me?” Kevin gets the message, and while I wait for Lou to come back, I start feeling it.

Lou sits down, leaving a polite gap between our bodies, I lean across Lou, pick a piece of cheese from a plate on the end table. My hair is in his face, I make sure my breast brushes his arm. When I sit back, our hips are only inches apart.

“So, Lou, do you find me attractive?” I fish.

A blush rises to his cheek, a gleam enters his eye. “Quite a bit,” he replies. “I like your hair.”

“You should feel how soft it is then.” It takes him a couple of beats to figure out it’s okay, and then his hand is at the back of my neck, the first time he touches me. I half turn towards him, offering myself. He places his fingers on my cheek. I feel the urge rise in me, my heart seems to be jumping out of my chest, my mouth is suddenly dusty, I feel heat in my panties.

He bends to me, I raise my lips, our mouths meet. At first he’s indecisive, our lips are closed. Then I feel a change in the current, as if he’d decided whatever it is we’re doing is okay, his tongue edges between my lips, touches my teeth, and I open to him. We test each other orally, our tongues advance then retreat, there’s a little nibble on my lower lip. I recline a bit backwards, he follows, his torso approaches mine. His lips go to my neck, I open my eyes and gaze at Kevin, who’s watching us intently. I smile to him, he catches my expression and gives me the thumbs up gesture.

I go back to caring about Lou. I place a palm on his head, pull it down, his lips are at the exposed fleshy tops of my breasts, I suddenly feel his right hand at my rib cage, with my free hand I bring it up, we hit second base. I let him feel me up, he finds my nipple through the dress and bra, I sense those little jolts. My hand finds his knee, I head for his thigh. How far do I want to go, I wonder, and stop inches from the focal point. I feel his hand at my back, the zipper is tugged, it needs a hand to steady it.

“Would we be more comfortable,” I ask, loud enough for Kevin to hear, “in the bedroom?”

“That’s a good idea,” Lou assents, and a glance at Kevin lets me know he’s in agreement as well. “It’s upstairs.”

We rise, I take Lou’s hand and lead the way, Kevin’s footsteps give away the fact that he’s following us to the conjugal chamber. The upstairs hall has three doors, I can see the master bedroom straight ahead, a queen size mattress enclosed in sheets, no bedspread. Like the first floor, this room could use embellishment, but I’m not here to be an interior decorator, I’ve got much more intimate ambitions. I stop just before the bed, plea, “Unzip me, would you please?” and I feel a tug, the sound of a zipper. I turn to my new man, wriggle and the fabric falls from my shoulders to the floor. I’m in black bra and panties, lace covering the tops of my breasts and hips, nothing but sheer nylon to the sides of my torso and rear. I step back, let Lou take a good look at my outfit then approach him, undo each button of his shirt lazily, and when he’s unfettered, I whisk the garment away.

I press myself into him and we kiss, his hand at my back and after a few seconds on my ass, pulling my stomach to his groin. There’s a straight chair that Lou obviously uses to dress himself, Kevin sits upon it. I back up, pulling Lou with me, and I sit on the bed. My head is at the height of Lou’s chest, pleasantly covered with just enough fur, and while my tongue plays with his nipple, my hands are unclasping his pants and pulling them down. He takes a moment to kick them off, and then I spy a lump beneath the stark white boxers. My hand investigates the bulge, it’s the consistency of a soft rubber ball, yielding to my massage, a promise that with encouragement, it will solidify.

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