Even though I’d been to a good swingers party with my man, that doesn't stop me from constantly wanting sex. That’s how I am. Anyway, it was Sunday and I was informed that I’d be alone that night as he and a friend were going to see 311 play in Boston. Mo...
As I write this, I’m still enjoying the comfort of orgasmic bliss. It’s all so fresh in my mind but I feel the need to start from the beginning because it was the perfect build up to this moment.In the swingers lifestyle, we regularly meet people who we c...
I was at my easel, failing yet again to create something beautiful when I heard a knock at my front door. I looked at the clock and my eyes popped wide open: it was four o'clock and I realized that it must be my buyer standing outside my apartment. Panic...
It didn’t really come as a surprise to Ruth. Over the years, she’d become accustomed to her husband’s schemes, his plotting, the sometimes secretive planning and, it must be admitted, the frequently bizarre ideas. So, Ruth had smiled and readily nodded he...
“So, tell me, honey, what’s your number one sexual fantasy. What would you like most to do?” I grinned and inhaled deeply. The way she delivered “honey” in her husky tones simply dripped and oozed sex. I considered her question but for only a few seconds....
Ending a loving relationship, particularly for the second time, is more complicated than disconnecting a phone call. Over the previous thirty-plus years, memories of Gaynor had frequently popped into my mind. Something or somewhere - a smell, a sight, a s...
We sat in Gaynor’s lounge but not in the usual chairs in the bay window. This time, Gaynor was stretched out on the four-seater leather couch, her back resting against a cushion and her bare feet in my lap. I was in my all-black golf attire and Gaynor was...
The place Gaynor selected for our late lunch was only a few minutes drive away, a quaint country inn with thatched-roof, low black beams, leaded windows and highly-polished hardwood flooring. Prints of hunting scenes, highlighting red coats and dappled do...
Traffic was light that Friday evening and I made good time. It was 7:01 when I parked the car in the garage and switched off the engine. I removed the phone from my pocket, preparing to text Gaynor, when it beep-beeped. The words on the screen told me: 1...
Thursday night I hardly slept. I was like a child on Christmas Eve, excited and desperate for morning to arrive so that I could open my gifts. But I wasn’t a child. I was less than a month from my fifty-eighth birthday and my special present was a meeting...
I arrived home only minutes before Veronica, and I helped unload the shopping bags from her car and carried them through to the kitchen where the kettle was already boiling. I made tea for Veronica and a mug of instant coffee for myself. Leaving Veronica...
I could have cried, or at least roared out in pain and anguish. I wanted to beat my chest and bellow to the skies, howling out my frustration. The e-mail from Gaynor stabbed at my heart, sliced me open and exposed me as a conceited, arrogant fool. At leas...
