Later I led HIM to my bedroom. We lay down on the bed as he kissed me again. Esme jumped up on the bed and I officially introduced them.
‘She deaf and she’s pregnant,’ I told HIM.
‘She’s beautiful, like her owner.’
I kissed HIM. I felt like purring like Esme.
‘I know my busy schedule is hard on you,’ he said, sounding conciliatory. ‘If it’s any consolation I think about you all the time.’
‘If we are to start up again, I want to meet your children, see your place.’
‘My divorce was so hard on the kids. I try to keep my personal life separate from them.’
‘Can’t I at least see where you live?’
‘Haven’t I ever invited you there?’
‘No!’
‘Sure. Sure. I can get you down there. Everything in good time,’ he said. ‘Listen, I think about fucking you night and day.’
This time he made love to me sweetly, all kisses and embraces. He fucked me missionary style so he could look at me while he thrust his cock inside me. Sometimes he’d stop to kiss me, a big broad kiss of great passion.
‘Do you know how much I love your come?’ I asked.
‘Yes. I know that.’
And then he came inside me, and the warmth of his semen made me feel so very, very loved.
‘No woman has ever let me go this far. Most women stop me. They’ll only go so far. You are the most sensuous woman I have ever been with.’
I knew what he meant. I thanked HIM in kisses.
We lay on my bed as he told me he could spend the night. I kissed HIM some more, happy kisses splayed over his chest and then one passionate kiss on his mouth. When we came up for air he suggested we have Chinese food delivered.
After we’d eaten dinner, I looked at HIM expectantly.
He told me he wanted to draw me a bath. ‘Hydrotherapy,’ he said. He asked me to tell HIM where he could find candles. I showed HIM a drawer full of little tealights. He suggested I relax on the sofa while he prepared the bath.
I could hear HIM turning on the water for the bathtub. Several minutes later he came into the living room. He reached out a hand and lifted me up from the couch. He brought me towards HIM and pulled my bathrobe off me so that I was standing naked in front of HIM. I could feel his hard-on. He led me into the bathroom, which was ablaze with the tealights. He got into the bathtub first, then turned around to lead me into it. He told me he wanted to lie down first then have me lie down against HIM. It took some manoeuvring but eventually we lay there, his back to the side of the bathtub and mine against his chest.
He found a bar of soap and lathered my breasts with it, his hands sliding over them as if they were covered in silk. I closed my eyes and let HIM explore my body. He made gentle love to me with his hands. Brought his hands back up to my breasts then flicked my nipples. His fingers became more urgent, my nipples completely erect, and then I came so hard.
That night he fell asleep before me. I lay in my bed. It had been such an intense evening – I wanted to relive it. I thought about how he had fucked me when he first arrived. He’d been angry with me and he was asserting his dominance over me. But once that had been established he’d become gentle and loving. I didn’t quite understand what he wanted from me. Who was this man? How could he give me all these gifts and take me to nice hotels and fuck me the way he did, only to disappear for long intervals? And tonight he had shown up to take me without mercy, but then made love to me in the bath. I did not know who this man was at all. Again, I was becoming removed from my own life and drawn into the ill-defined one I had with HIM. Yet I also knew I’d continue to see HIM, no matter what. I wanted so desperately to know who he was, where he was from. I got out of bed, put on my robe. I decided I would do some sleuthing.
I found his clothes thrown over a rocking chair in my bedroom. I took them (pants, jacket and shirt) out to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator so that there was just a small sliver of light. I didn’t want to wake HIM. Then I did what I had wanted to do since I met HIM. Esme had followed me. ‘Be quiet,’ I told her. I was convinced she looked at me with a disapproving glance, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. I found his cellphone in an interior pocket of his jacket. It felt like a cliché but I had to do it. I checked the other pockets. I was relieved I found no hidden wedding ring. I quickly scrolled through the contact numbers until I found his ex-wife’s phone number and address. To my relief, her address was not the same as his. I used the fridge light to locate a piece of paper and pencil in one of the kitchen drawers. I quickly jotted down HIM’s and his ex-wife’s info. Then I carefully put his belongings back where I’d found them.
I thought about getting back into bed but still felt wide awake. I spent the next hour huddled in a ball on the living-room couch. I replayed the day’s events. How had I just stood by as THE BOY left? THE BOY wasn’t ultimately right for me and he’d come with a time-limited warranty, but he was a far better choice than HIM. But the department head had given me a straightforward warning. My job was on the line if I dated THE BOY, or stayed with HIM.
Why did I need HIM so badly? Or was it just a matter of my wanting some resolution from HIM? He’d left me so badly before. Perhaps, if we had one more chance, he’d become the kind of man who would fully respect me.
Was I a masochist? Well, duh.
I once read an article by a psychotherapist who had said that all intelligent sensitive women ‘would hit the wall sooner or later’. This didn’t mean the end of one’s life. It was actually a beginning. From being paralysed by what was not working, the woman could replenish herself, rise from the ashes anew. Perhaps I would do this. Perhaps I could talk HIM into being a more thoughtful man.
I fell asleep on the couch. In the morning he woke me up. He was already dressed and had brewed some coffee. He handed me a mug and sat down next to me.
From his jacket pocket he took out his wallet. He rummaged through its contents until he found a blank cheque. He found a pen lying on the coffee table. I watched as he wrote my name on the cheque. He handed it to me. It was for $10,000.
I looked at HIM aghast.
‘And this is for?’
‘You’ve earned yourself a vacation,’ he said. ‘Take medical leave from your job. I have several business trips lined up and I’d like to take you with me. How many more weeks are there anyway until the end of the school semester?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Seven or eight. Five or six. Who’s counting?’
‘Well, ask for medical leave. I am sure your doctor will sign the papers without questioning it. While you’re not working you can go to the spa, the health club, get a massage. You know what I mean. Renew yourself. We’ll have some good times together and I can make it up to you.’
‘You already have,’ I replied.
‘I believe you should take this medical leave but, if things work out the way I am hoping they will, we can begin the process of you moving closer to me. You can meet my children. We can have a life together. I’ll support you. You haven’t been happy at the college for a very long time.’
I was aware he was asking me to become his mistress. I would be his geisha girl living only to pleasure HIM. HIM.
‘I love the idea of our really trying to make this work,’ I said. ‘I know I’ve put a lot of pressure on you. It’s just been so hard with your work and your children.’
‘No,’ he countered as he opened my bathrobe and began caressing my breasts. ‘I’ve never been fair to you. I owe you so much. You’ve always been so good to me. I’ve taken advantage of your kindness. When I saw you with THE BOY I realised how much I cared for you.’
‘THE BOY,’ I murmured. It felt like years since THE BOY had been in my life.
‘I plan to make it up to you. I do.’ He bent over and began sucking one nipple then the other.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
‘What did you think about my taking you up the as
s last night?’ He stopped kissing my breasts and looked up at me. Our eyes met.
‘I loved it.’ I began to cry. It had been so personal, so stunningly intimate, and my body had felt fully alive. ‘You can do whatever you want to do to me. I want you that badly.’
‘Was that your first time?’
‘Yes.’
‘I loved it too,’ he said as he once again began greedily sucking my breasts. ‘Can I do it to you again?’
‘And again and again,’ I said.
And then he did.
‘Take off your robe.’
I took it off. He turned me around until I was lying on the couch on my stomach. I waited and heard HIM taking off his clothes.
‘Wait, let me get some lubricant,’ he murmured and ran back into my bedroom. He returned moments later, climbed on top of me and carefully poured the lubricant over my ass. It felt cold and a little bit sticky.
‘Oh, baby,’ he whispered in my ear. ‘I got to fuck you in your ass. I got to. Oh, my God. You have no idea’. His cock was in my ass. He started riding me. ‘Oh, baby, just let me do this all the time. I have to have it. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, oh, oh,’ and then he moaned so intensely as he came.
I lay perfectly still, feeling the full weight of his body. This was all new to me, a place of such secret pleasure, and the fact that he wanted it so much made me excited beyond words. I would have done anything for HIM.
Later he left me. I felt so saturated by HIM. HIM. HIM.
As I listened to the sound of his tyres on my driveway, I looked at the cheque and thought, ‘Good. I won’t have to see THE BOY.’
18
Letting go of THE BOY, the beautiful, beautiful BOY …
Love to faults is always blind;
Always is to joy inclin’d,
Lawless, wing’d and unconfin’d,
And breaks all chains from every mind.
William Blake
I called my primary physician’s office and told her I needed to go on stress leave from my job. I said I was not eating, was crying constantly and could not sleep. She gave me a referral to a psychiatrist. I called the shrink and thanked my lucky stars I was able to get a same-day appointment. Apparently she’d had a cancellation.
Dr Stern’s office was located in a nondescript medical building on the third floor looking out at a busy city street. While I sat in the waiting room I composed what I would say to her. I certainly wasn’t going to tell her the truth. I doubted she would understand why I had chosen to get involved with one of my college students or want to hear that I’d been in such a troubled relationship with HIM. She certainly would question my taking the $10,000 cheque from HIM or his suggestion that I go on medical leave from my job. But I was exhausted. I had had two verbal warnings from the department head. It would only be a matter of time before the college would start an investigation into my involvement with THE BOY. Bottom line, I would have had to break it off with THE BOY regardless of HIM.
The door opened. Dr Stern was a petite woman, most likely in her forties, beautifully dressed in a grey tailored suit. She had short blonde hair and a pretty All-American look. It was hard to imagine that she had ever suffered emotionally. I wondered how anyone could be an effective psychiatrist unless they understood emotional pain, but what did I know? She called my name. I followed her to a small windowless office, which had several nature prints on the wall. She sat at her desk but turned the swivelling chair to face me. I sat on a black leather couch. ‘How can I help you?’ she asked.
And I burst into tears. I had planned to tell her nothing; I told her everything. I didn’t expect her to understand, yet she was sympathetic and told me I was brave. Brave?
‘Well, you went out on a limb for both of these guys,’ she said. ‘You could either spend a lot of time blaming yourself for getting involved with either one of them or you can just give yourself credit for pulling it off in the first place.’
I laughed. I didn’t expect Dr Stern to be so diplomatic. I had thought she would be judgemental. I certainly was. But she was giving me permission to look at my relationships with HIM and THE BOY in a more positive light. Certainly Dr Stern must understand the implications of my sleeping with one of my students, but she was not pointing a finger at me.
‘I’m not so sure you trust HIM that much,’ she offered.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘I don’t. He says he’s going to be more available but I think his catching me with THE BOY could have inspired that promise.’
‘It makes sense that you became involved with THE BOY,’ she said. ‘After HIM he sounds like a breath of fresh air.’
I began crying softly. THE BOY. THE BOY.
‘But what about your parents?’ she asked.
I sobbed. I was so lost without my mother. That was the truth about everything. These men didn’t matter. My mother did. And she was gone. I cried non-stop for the rest of the hour.
She gave me a prescription for an anti-depressant and a referral to a psychotherapist.
‘I think it would be a good idea if you took some time off,’ she said. ‘I can’t help you make up your mind about the men in your life, but I can certainly recommend that you give yourself a little break. From what you have told me, you never worked through your mom’s illness and death. You haven’t stopped since then. Take some yoga classes, walks. Just practise self-care.’
‘Thank you,’ I said quietly.
‘You’re lovely. You still have your whole life in front of you. You will get past all of this. You will. I think the medication will help.’
‘OK,’ I said as I stood up.
‘I’m putting you on medical leave for the remainder of this semester. When does the next semester start?’ she asked.
‘February.’
‘Well, make an appointment with me in late January and we can re-evaluate your circumstances.’
I drove home and called the HR department at the college. The woman told me she’d send me the necessary paperwork for the medical leave of absence. She said they’d find a replacement until the end of the term.
I looked again at the cheque HIM had left me. It was my get-out-of-jail-free card. I needed to deposit it at the bank.
And then I called THE BOY.
‘Would you meet me at Starbucks?’
‘But I have classes,’ he said.
‘Ditch them.’
‘And this from a college prof herself.’
‘We need to talk.’
‘Yes. We do.’
We agreed to meet in an hour.
I showered once again. I wanted to look presentable when I saw him. I wore the beautiful embroidered dress he had bought me with the matching earrings.
THE BOY looked like shit; I doubt he’d been anywhere near a shower since the day he’d left my bed. It hurt me to see him this way.
‘What would you like to drink? My treat.’
‘A Scotch.’
‘Ha.’
‘A green tea. I don’t think I could handle a coffee right now,’ he said, his eyes darting and unfocused.
Once the drinks were at my table I looked at him but he refused to look directly at me.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said.
‘You should be,’ he answered. ‘Didn’t you get it? That I loved you?’
‘I know. I loved you too. But sooner or later the whole age thing would have caught up with us.’
‘I’d have taken the leap. I’d explained to my parents that it hadn’t meant to happen but it did. Over time they would have loved you as much as I do.’
‘I’m going back to HIM,’ I said. I could feel the $10,000 cheque burning in my wallet. I still had to deposit it.
‘What can he possibly offer you?’ THE BOY asked. ‘So he’s a big-shot lawyer and he has tons of money. From what you’ve told me, you were the one chasing HIM.’
‘He told me it would be different now.’
‘Of course it’ll be. At least for a while.’
‘I’m taking a leave of a
bsence from the school.’
‘What?’
‘I’m not going back until next semester.’
‘You’ve worked this out with the college?’
‘Yes. I had a psychiatrist sign a work release form. She thought I needed to figure out some things and she felt working would get in the way.’
‘Duh. What is it anyway, that takes you so far away from yourself? What are your demons? We were having so much fun I never even thought of asking you but I knew you weren’t really happy.’
‘I lost my mom to cancer several years ago,’ I told THE BOY solemnly. ‘I’m not sure why my pain is manifesting itself by getting involved in these sexualised relationships but it is.’
‘Well, at least you know the source. That’s a start.’
‘You’re pretty smart for a twenty-year-old,’ I told him. ‘I don’t think I would have been able to see that dynamic when I was your age.’
‘Well, you didn’t have a beautiful older woman descend upon you when you were young. It made me grow up pretty quickly.’
‘Do you think we could still see each other now and then?’ I asked THE BOY.
‘You mean sexually?’
‘Well, no, just as friends.’
‘While you’re still involved with HIM? I don’t think so. Besides, Miranda and I have been talking.’
‘Is Miranda your ex who is at the University of Colorado?’
‘Yes. She’s coming home for the holidays.’
I felt a stab to my heart.
‘She’s not like me sexually, is she?’ I’m not sure why that mattered to me but it did. I needed to be reassured even as I was venturing towards returning to HIM.
THE BOY paused. He took a sip of his tea. ‘No. She’s really nice but she’s pretty tame sexually. She wouldn’t get it. What you and I did together was beyond the pale. I doubt I’ll ever have that kind of sexual connection again. But that might be a good thing. It takes you down too far.’
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