by Hadley Knox
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean that you need to stop being so emotional if you’re going to have another fling like this,” Betsy said. “Trust and all of that other emotional stuff is reserved for a relationship and unless you are ready to get back into another one of those, you shouldn’t worry about all of that baggage.”
“I might be ready for another relationship.”
“I don’t think you are,” Betsy said. “Unless you can have meaningless sex with a stranger without having to worry about emotional baggage, then you would never make it in a relationship.”
“I’m not sure I buy your theory. But you think I should sleep with more people?”
“Of course, I do,” she said. “But I don’t think that sleeping around is necessarily going to fix all your problems. You need to get to the source of your emotional issues and squash them like a bug.”
“What are my issues?”
“That’s a conversation that would require another pot of coffee,” she laughed.
“Then give me the summary.”
“First of all, you are a control freak,” Betsy said. “Frank leaving you left you so rattled, and you felt so completely helpless that now you are so scared that you won’t have any control about other aspects of your life that you try to force everything else to fit what you think should happen. Dating and sex doesn’t work that way.”
“So I’m just a control freak?”
“It doesn’t stop there,” she said as she set her coffee down. “The fact that you are a prude probably stems from your fixation on control, but it’s still a problem. You have to let go of your inability to be naked in front of a man without folding your arms over your breasts. You need to go to a bar and talk to men without blushing or stuttering.”
“I’m just so self-conscious.”
“Being self-conscious is a state of mind that you can do away with as easily as an old pair of panties,” Betsy said. “You just have to stand up one day and say enough is enough.”
“You make it sound so easy,” I said.
“You want to hear some more truth, Lana? You are an extremely beautiful woman. So beautiful, in fact, that when you and I were in the bar, nobody looked at me once. They all stared at you. That’s one of the reasons I couldn’t wait for you to go talk to a man, so that maybe I could get a little attention. I’m jealous, but I’m actually happy for you. I just wish you could see yourself the way that everyone else sees you.”
“I’m not all that.”
“Yes, you are. You have the looks, you’re intelligent, and you have a great job that pays decent. You have everything.”
I still hadn’t told Betsy or Pearl about my dire financial situation. The cost of maintaining my home and my family, even at a reduced lifestyle, were draining both the savings and the checking faster than my paychecks were coming in.
“So what should I do?” I asked.
“Forget about this whole man-whore episode,” she said, throwing her hands back. “But move on fast to another man. Get back in the saddle, but this time, don’t have any regrets and certainly don’t question everything you do, or else you are going to drive yourself crazy and end up alone.”
I swallowed hard. I knew she was right. The whole thing with Greg wasn’t that bad, but in my head, it was the worst event of my life.
When had I become such a lunatic?
After another half hour of talking, the kids finally woke up and started getting ready for school. As if that was her cue, Betsy grabbed her keys and her purse and headed home. I kissed her on the cheek and told her thank you three more times, and then she left.
I drove the kids to school, dropped them off at their usual spots and drove back home. The whole time, I thought about my friend’s words, trying my damnedest to come up with a strategy to overcome the problems that she had broached.
Greg had been a great guy, and there was no denying the fact that the sex we had was insanely good. Even the best time with Frank had been nothing compared to what I experienced the night before. Did the fact that Greg was paid to do that sort of thing affect the night in any way? Was I being too hard on him and on myself?
I think the hardest part to overcome was the fact that it was prostitution. That word alone sent shivers up my spine, but the reality was that the profession had been around for hundreds – no thousands – of years. Sure, all major religions denounced prostitution, and the majority of society would public claim that it was vile, and it was an illegal institution.
Honestly, I asked myself, what was the harm in what had happened the night before? Had I known what he was, it probably never would have happened, but the fact remained that I did not. So how did that make me a bad person?
One thing that Betsy had said stuck with me. I had to overcome this whole prudish mentality that had dominated my mind set ever since I could remember. Even with Frank, sex had to happen with the lights off.
I decided that it was time for a change. I couldn’t look at myself and potential romantic encounters the same way anymore. Despite what I had always felt, it was time now for me to feel free when it came to men. How was I going to do that? That was the challenging part. I could decide and declare all day long, but when it came time to actually practice what I was saying, that was a different story altogether.
As I turned onto my alley, I made a mental decision to do whatever it took, at the next available opportunity, to rid myself of this prudish overcast that plagued me.
When I pulled into my driveway, I saw that Derrick’s truck was parked in its usual spot. He wasn’t due until tomorrow, so I wasn’t sure why he was there.
After parking the car in the garage, I walked into the kitchen and stared out the back glass. There he was, cleaning the pool by swiping the net through the water to get all of the leaves and other debris that had fallen in. Since he didn’t have a shirt on, I got a good view of his slim, muscular torso and that beautiful tanned skin. His swim shorts hung so low on his hips that I could see the top inch or so of his butt, and the sight was one that was hard for me to turn away from.
He turned and saw me, extending one of his well-toned arms up in greeting. He smiled, and I could see his white teeth from across the patio. His sandy blond hair had been pulled up into a small ponytail behind his head.
If I didn’t have to worry about him catching me, I would fan myself right there. He was so pretty. It was a different attractiveness than Greg. My date from night before was a rugged man, with dark hair and stubble. Derrick was a younger beauty, with smooth skin that hadn’t even begun to show any signs of aging. His face had that ageless quality and zeal that life hadn’t had an opportunity to squash.
Why had he chosen to come today? Was it fate or mere coincidence for me to see this attractive young man just seconds after I made a silent declaration to overcome my crippling prudishness?
No, I didn’t think it was coincidence at all. In fact, I knew exactly what I had to do. This was a test, and one in which I had to ace.
As I slid the back door open, I reached up and tugged on the clip in my hair, letting it fall to the sides of my face. I walked across the patio and when I neared Derrick, he turned around to greet me again.
I noticed the lines on the side of his abdomen, the really sexy ones that only show up on men with absolutely no body fat. They tapered inwards as they worked their way down, as if pointing me along the path.
“What’s going on, Lana?” he said.
“Hey there, Derrick,” I said, trying my best to sound natural and not nervous all at the same time.
“I came a day early because I’m trying to get off a little early tomorrow,” he said.
She almost laughed. Using the words “came” and “get off” in the same sentence when she was planning on seducing him. This was too rich. In fact, it almost took her out of the mindset that she had put herself in. Still she pressed on.
“It’s no trouble, Derrick,” I said. “I’m flexible.”
Hi
s expression changed, and that alarmed me. I really didn’t mean the last line to come out like that, but it did, and there was no way of taking that back now.
“I’m almost done,” he said. “I can be out of your way in just a few minutes if you want to swim.”
“I was thinking of going for a swim,” I said. “Do you want to join me?”
“I probably shouldn’t,” he said.
“Nonsense,” I smiled. “My kids are at school and it gets lonely here all by myself. It would be nice to have some company for once.”
“If I swim, then my truck seats will get wet,” he said.
“Then take them off.”
“What?” he asked. His face was morphing between mortified and intrigued. I knew that he was trying to figure me out, as to whether or not I was actually trying to seduce him.
“Go swimming without your trunks. I’ve already seen you naked.”
“That would be a little weird.”
“What if I swam naked, too?”
His jaw dropped so far I could see the back of his mouth. He also dropped his pool net onto the concrete.
“Are you being serious?” he asked. I noticed that his hands were reaching for the string that held his bathing suit up.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean,” I said as I took a step towards him.
He finally relented and I knew that I had him. He took two steps towards me, and the next thing I knew, we were kissing.
It was madness all over again. The animalistic fury that Greg and I had shared was now duplicated in my backyard. The two of us shared a hunger for one another’s company, one another’s pleasure, that we were moments away from tearing each other part.
He slid my shirt over my head. Since I wasn’t wearing a bra, my breasts were exposed. Normal me would have shrieked and ran away, but the new me didn’t care. His strong hands gripped by breasts as his tongue continued to probe my mouth. I could feel him pulling away slightly, and I knew that he wanted to go lower.
However, I held him in place for a moment. I still had to get rid of his bathing suit. My hands touched the string that held it in place, and I could already feel the tip of him protruding out of the top of the suit. So much for warming up, I thought.
I tugged the string and then shoved his suit to the ground. I took a step back and surveyed him. Even though I had just seen him naked recently, it was a new experience in my new frame of mind. A bronzed god stood before me, erect and waiting for my command. Less than twenty four hours ago, I had been a helpless victim in the game of love, and standing there with Derrick, I became someone in charge of my own love life.
Instead of going to him again, I removed my shorts and then dove into the pool. I made sure to flash him a grin before doing so. As my head came back up out of the water, I heard the splash of him joining me.
I let my head fall back some so that I could let the water rash over my neck. It was liberating to be without the confines of clothing swimming in a pool with an attractive man who, as evidenced by his physical reaction, was as attracted to me as I was to him.
I felt his hands first. They slid around my waist from behind, and I could feel his hardness push against my butt, sliding up as he moved closer.
As I lifted my head back up, he turned me around, smoothly but forcefully. The moment our eyes locked, he went in for another kiss. I could smell the chlorine all around me as our hands began to explore each other’s bodies. The water was cool on my skin, which was helpful to keep my body temperature down, because his hands were doing all they could to increase it.
One hand played with my breasts. His technique was rougher than Greg’s had been, but he was more aggressive and energetic. His other hand found its way down between my thighs. The skill of his fingers nearly matched that of Greg’s tongue. I moaned into his mouth, kneading his tongue in time with the bucking of my hips.
As I became accustomed to the riveting feelings that he was giving by his finger work, I began to explore his body. My left hand went instantly for his member, while the other hand found its way to his rear. I pulled him closer as the other hand did its work.
Like that, we fumbled through the pool, lost in our own twister of ecstasy and lovemaking. Our mouths never left each other, until he stopped kissing me long enough to suggest we get out of the pool.
I took him by the hand and led him up the steps and onto the patio. When we reached the chaise lounge chair, I let go of his hand and sensually placed my body down on the cushions.
He grinned at me and opened his mouth to say something. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he said.
“Me neither,” I said.
“I’ve totally had the hots for you since the day I met you,” he said.
“Really?” I asked.
“Oh yes,” he said. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
“That’s nice of you to say,” I smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
His smile turned coy. “Does seeing me naked by your pool turn you on?”
“Uh?” I asked. For a brief flash, the old me was prepared to resurface and ask this kid who was years younger than I was why he was asking such a stupid question. However, I managed to suppress that old part of myself, and played along.
He repeated the question. “Of course it does,” I said.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked.
“What it would be like to be with you,” I said. I immediately regretted the words. I could admit that I wasn’t really good at the dirty talk, but once I got into it, I found out just how arousing it was.
“Do you want to know what I was thinking about?” he asked.
“What?”
“What it would be like to make love to you,” he said.
“Then stop wondering and get over here,” I said.
He leaned one knee down on the end of the chaise and then the other. He crawled his way up and soon he was on top of me. His youthful vigor became apparent very quickly. Without even having to guide it, he gyrated his hip once and he had found the spot.
Once he was firmly in place, and I reassured him that I was okay, he began. His zest was that of an athlete in the final period of the big game. I tried to stifle the noises coming from my mouth, because I knew there was a good chance that one of the neighbors could hear me.
Chapter Eight
After making love on the patio, Derrick and I took a shower together. He was charming in an immature way. Instead of the shower being a sensual thing, he was playful and as energetic has he had been during sex. Luckily, I had a large walk-in shower so that we had plenty of room, but he used that room to have a soap fight with me.
Just before we decided to get out, we ended up doing it one more time. When that was finished, we both dressed and he went outside to get his things ready to leave.
“That was nice,” he said.
“Very nice,” I replied.
“I meant what I said earlier,” he said. “You really are hot.”
“Thank you,” I smiled. “And you are, too.”
We made small talk while he loaded up his bucket of chemicals and other pool cleaning items. He gave me a lingering kiss on the mouth and then he left.
As I walked back into the house, I began to doubt myself again. The old Lana ripped her way back into my psyche and the self-doubt of who I really was dwarfed the elation that I had felt being with Derrick.
In the span of less than a day, I had had sex with two different men. I was becoming nothing more than a whore. Oh wait, I corrected myself, I was actually just being a slut. At least a whore got paid for what they were doing. I actually laughed out loud at the irony.
If Betsy and Pearl were here, they would give me a high five. Embarrassed as my instinct was trying to make me feel, I knew that I shouldn’t be. What kept me from having fun with Greg or Derrick? Just my own mind. I was single and they were single, so what was the problem?
I knew then what I had to do. How hypocritical was I t
o make Greg feel bad about what he did, when I wasn’t any better. Despite the misgivings I felt initially about his profession, the night I had with him had awoken something in me, something that felt the most like healing than anything else I had felt since Frank had left.
I wasn’t completely sure why I had convinced myself to meet Greg again, but I knew that it was the right thing to do. One minute, I was thinking about it, and the next thing I knew, I had his card out and was calling his phone. He answered after three rings, and when I introduced myself, he started laughing.
I wanted to hang up the phone right there.
“So how have you been?” he asked.
Of course, I couldn’t tell him the truth. What would I say? “Oh yeah, after I slept with you and then made you feel bad for being a gigolo, I came out and slept with my pool boy.” That would go over real well.
“I’m good,” was what I chose to say instead.
“I want to apologize again for the misunderstanding,” he said. “But I really did have a great time with you. You are an amazing woman, Lana.”
“I had a good time with you, too,” I said. “I really owe you an apology as well. I shouldn’t have treated you the way that I did.”
“It’s no problem,” he said. “I know it must have been a shock to you.”
“It was,” I confessed. “Do you want to meet for lunch today?”
“Sure,” he said. “When and where?”
“How about noon at that sandwich bistro next to the bar we met at?” I asked.
“Got it,” he said. “I’ll see you there, okay?”
“Goodbye,” I said and hung up.
Right on schedule, I pulled my car into the parking lot of our meeting place. When I entered the bistro, he was standing there waiting for me before he ordered.
He was just as gorgeous as I remembered. Even without the dim light of the bar, I felt myself swoon a little at seeing him. The combination of his sparkling blue eyes and that grin of his nearly sent me over the edge.