It'd been nine months since my mental meltdown and rescue by Gracie. I'd been at my parents' home recovering and going to therapy in an effort to get my head straightened out. 

Darrin never came by or called once to check up on me, not even a Get Well Soon card. Maybe he felt too embarrassed or guilty at how he'd treated me or was I just another casualty of ruthless corporate politics? In spite of that, I missed him and "The General" like hell, and in a sick way, still loved him. I guess that just shows you how fucked up my thought processes were. 

I'd quit my job after my medical leave ran out, so here I was back in my childhood room with the same stupid posters and idiot things young girls put on their walls being taken care of by my folks. It was like going back to the future of my adolescence. I felt so helpless and useless. What a rousing success I was. That was hard for me because I wanted to be an independent woman - self-assured, decisive, bold, and making her own way.

Yes, I had screwed up royally and nearly killed myself in the process. What a mistake that was. I'd had another epiphany – no one is worth killing yourself over even if it seems that your world is disintegrating. Life is too precious to throw it away. 

I'd realized that immediately after I'd seen the look on Gracie's face. She had so much concern, compassion and true love for me, not the physical kind, but genuine love in her heart for a fellow human being who was suffering. Words can't express the gratitude I felt to her for saving me from myself. Oh, how I missed her and even her scoldings. 

It is said that there are two kinds of "Grace," ordinary and extraordinary. Extraordinary grace is exceptional and comes with drama and precisely when needed, seemingly, given to those who need a miraculous rescue. That is what Gracie had done for me. Ordinary grace, on the other hand, is mundane and may be too simple to notice because it falls on both the worthy and unworthy alike. I had begun to notice and appreciate ordinary grace as well. 

In spite of my initial melancholy, these ordinary graces occurred: the sun came up every day; the stars and the moon shown at night; the flowers bloomed; babies were born; life went on. Every day was a beautiful day to be alive if I just looked around and outside of myself. Every day, I tried hard to find something to be thankful for, even if it was spiders. The traditional hymn, "Morning Has Broken", had become my theme song. I especially loved the last verse. To me it says, God provides the life-giving sunshine; the fresh morning with the same sun that shone on Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden and one should praise with enthusiasm every new day.

I'd realized that every day was a new beginning, another chance to start over. I was created in God's image, so how could I hate myself without hating God. God doesn't make junk, and by extension, I'm not junk. We need people who love us as we are, in spite of our freckles, faults, scars and warts with that unconditional love you hear about and dogs seem to have in abundance. It's a love that doesn't want anything from you, but accepts you as-is just like God made you and doesn't consider you as someone or something that needs to be fixed or changed. 

My biggest mistake was trying to be Darrin's everything and essentially losing myself in the process. He didn't love me because I didn't love myself either. Darrin would always be there in my consciousness. I couldn't erase that, but I could learn from my experience. Isn't that what life is all about? Learning from your missteps and mistakes as long as they don't kill you in the process. Although, it would certainly be easier if we learned from someone else's mistakes, but we have too much hubris to believe that we're that stupid. Grace had tried to warn me. 

My life now had so much less complexity, but my depth of understanding had grown exponentially. I could actually feel myself getting better.

Starting to venture out of the house, I began frequenting the local beanery for a cup of coffee. The smell of freshly brewed coffee was cathartic and stimulated one of my senses again. 

At first, my excursions were few, but as I heeled and grew mentally stronger, they became a daily ritual. I even began to converse with the barista and a couple of the other regulars. Gaining my self-confidence back, I felt a part of the human race again.

I began to miss the touch of a man or a woman for that matter. The feeling of being held in their arms and that sense of tenderness, safety and security that came with it. That feeling that someone wanted you, even if it was only for a few hours. 

I still had "The Replica" in my closet in a boot box on the upper shelf hidden behind a blanket, and it provided me with that kind of release. However, every time I used it, I was reminded of Darrin and what we had. My therapist said that wasn't good for me, contrary to what my lady parts said. I don't know if I could bring myself to throw it away, but she was probably right. She, not me, had the Ph.D. 

Even with my near-death experience, my conversion to Cock and Cunt worshipper had not diminished my need or desire for that sacrament. The feeling of two bodies embracing in the throes of sexual ecstasy together that culminates with that soul-cleansing release of endorphins like a physical communion and resurrection. It's like in those few minutes; the only world that exists is between my legs, in my mouth and in my imagination. I am the center of the universe. I missed that feeling most of all.

*****

My folks' home is a two-story Georgian style with four bedrooms. My bedroom is on the second floor, which, unfortunately, is adjacent to our neighbor's master bedroom. These developers like to cram houses so close together that you can spit out your window and into your neighbor's. 

The first few months, I never left my room except for meals, therapy, and church. Every Sunday, our Pastor's sermons always seemed to be about me. At least, that's how I felt as I squirmed in the pew. It's like she'd seen my soul and was talking only to me. She stated several times that, in order to fully receive God's 'Grace', we had to first forgive ourselves. 

Why is that so hard? 

I think it's the aversion of seemingly getting something for nothing and the belief that if it sounds too good to be true, there's got to be a catch somewhere. Feeling so unworthy, but truly, I thought that I'd tried to forgive myself. Maybe I was just delusional. Less naïve now, I had become cynical about people in general. Darrin had definitely tainted my perspective on the human race and men in particular. I struggled with my self-worth and God's plan for me. 

At night, I'd sit in my darkened room and listen to my mind hash and re-hash every detail of my life with Darrin, trying to understand where I went wrong. It wasn't a good time for me, and I wasn't in a good place either. 

During that time, I'd noticed that our neighbor's wife, Ashley, would get undressed every night about 9 PM and read until her husband, Bill, would come to bed around 11 PM. Some nights she wore a long flannel nightgown, but others, she'd be in a mini-teddy nightie. I wondered if her and Bill fucked those nights. 

My Dad is a hunter to the Nth degree. He's got all the stuff you need to hunt anything - deer, elk, mountain lion, whatever. He keeps his weapons locked in a gun safe with the only key to it on a chain around his neck. I guess he didn't want me to do anything crazy if I lost my mind again.

He enjoys tracking animals just to see if he can find them, especially during bow-hunting season. Some weekends, he'll just take his camera and shoot them with that. At least, he tries to give them a fighting chance. One of the special devices he has is night vision goggles. 

Bow hunting season had just finished. I knew Dad wouldn't be using those goggles for a few months, so I sneaked them up to my room while he and mom were out shopping. Not sure why I wanted to watch our neighbors or what I would do if I saw them having sex. Maybe I wanted to see someone making love, not just fucking, to see if it was different from what Darrin and I'd been doing, to see their love for each other, and if it was expressed in another fashion, besides multiple positions and a cock in every orifice. 

It was Friday night, and I'd seen Ashley's mom stop by and pick up the kids. They were alone in the house. If they were ever going to fuck, it would be tonight. I thought about going outside to watch them through their dining room window, just in case, they got going early, but I didn't want to get caught. That's all I'd need - to get arrested for being a "Peeping Jane". I'd be in court-mandated therapy forever. 

They both came up to their bedroom about 9 PM. They were laughing and had their arms around each other's waist. I remembered what that felt like. They didn't even close the door. They remembered they were totally alone. Leaving one nightstand light on, Bill put a movie in the DVD player. They snuggled up on the bed to watch. It didn't take long for me to see that they were watching porn. 

After about five minutes, Ashley's hand began rubbing Bill's leg, maybe his cock. He leaned over and kissed her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned her head to the side to encourage further exploration. Bill slurped, nibbled and kissed her neck like it was an "All Day Sucker". I could tell Ashley was loving it, and so was I. 

Bill turned off the movie and Ashley turned off the light. I put on the goggles. My eyes quickly adjusted to the green hue, so I don't think I missed anything. Bill began unbuttoning her blouse and was kissing his way to her left boob while his left hand massaged her right breast. He pulled her bra down as his lips attached to her nipple.

Stripping my clothes off, I wanted to transport myself into their bedroom and imagine Bill, a man, any man, doing that to me. I was hotter than I been in months. 

As Bill suckled Ashley's breast, I watched her fingers gently stroke Bill's manhood. He leaped from his position and stripped his remaining clothes off then returned to breast heaven. His cock was erect and ready for some of Ashley's teasing, which she gladly supplied.

This was wonderful - watching two people who knew each other's hot spots; how to activate them and make it last. It was a touch here, a caress there, a kiss, a lick and so on. It was like watching a choreographed ballet or maybe one of those fake wrestling matches, where every hold has been rehearsed many times over and the outcome is known to both participants except both would be winners in this match. 

My fingers pinched my nipple while the other hand found my little bean. I wanted to close my eyes, but every time I did, Darrin would be there. Needing someone else to launch me to the heights, I had to keep watching. It took them forty minutes before they began cuddling. I'd cum four times already. I licked each orgasm from my fingers. Masturbating through several more orgasms, I watched them sleep. That was the most alive I'd felt in months.

*****

About ten years ago, we had moved from New Braunfels to Duluth, a big town for Minnesota. There are seedy places you can go to see porn movies and interact with like-minded people. Frankly, I was getting tired of "The Replica" because I had to provide all the mental stimulation to make it work for me. I longed to feel a cock's heat as it rested on the palm of my hand; to feel its power as it twitched and blasted a stream of cum four feet across the room; to hear a man's anguish as he came with my touch.

So, I began my search for the right place. It took two weeks, but I found a bookstore that was in a safe neighborhood where your shoes didn't stick to the floor when you went in the back. 

It was time. It was a Tuesday around lunch. Every eye turned to look at me when I entered. There were four men there not counting the counter person. Looking at several magazines, mostly lesbian ones, my intent was to throw the guys off from my real desire. Once they saw what I was looking at, they went back to their magazines. I got change for ten dollars and headed to the back room. 

It was darker than inside a black cat, but I found a booth and closed the door. Starting the movie, I really didn't care what the movie was. What interested me was what would be slipped through the two holes on either side of the enclosure. From the light radiating through the door crack on my left, I knew someone would soon present themselves for pleasure. 

I lowered the little door. About thirty seconds later, a seven-inch cock slipped through the hole. I lightly took hold of it. It was warm and throbbed in my hand as I felt it pulse for me. Pulling his foreskin back, I used my free hand to make circles around his head. He moaned with affirmation. I spit in my hand and used my wet fingers to caress his manhood flare. The hole was big enough that I could cradle his nuts and roll them between my fingers while stroking him ever closer to the ultimate. He was getting close, so close. I felt his nuts begin to pulse and then I stopped. One drop of cum dripped from his angry cock. 

I heard him say, "Come on, finish me. Don't leave me like this. Fuck, you ruined it. What an asshole." 

Having no remorse for his situation, I had enjoyed the warmth of his cock and its power right up to the moment I stopped. I had taken its power. He got what he deserved – nothing, but blue balls. With his emotions in my hand, I closed the door. That was an extreme satisfaction I hadn't felt before. 

Opening the door on my right, another cock appeared. Stroking it until it was a stony stick, I slipped my mouth over it. Yes, feeling it in my mouth triggered my senses – touch, smell and taste. My tongue worked its magic on him. Enjoying the sensation of it in my mouth, I could tell it wouldn’t be long. Starting to thrust into my mouth, a driblet of pre-cum activated my tastebuds. Once again, I stopped. This cock dribbled a couple of measly drops of cum into my cubical.

Closing the door, I heard him say, "You motherfucker, what kind of sick bitch are you?" 

I had taken his power, too. Waiting about twenty minutes until I knew they both had left; my actions had empowered me. I had taken these men right to the edge of ecstasy and then crashed their desires. Like they say, "You can't always get what you want." 

Before I left the bookstore, I bought an eight-inch skin-like dildo. I think this will be my new boyfriend. My bookstore visits became a regular weekly thing. In some perverted way of thinking, I was getting back at Darrin by making every other man suffer for him. Logically that doesn't make sense, but it made me feel better.

*****

Like most regular parishioners, we have "our" pew. It's not really ours, but we always sit there unless some visitors plop their butts in it. I noticed a guy about my age sitting in one of the side pews. He was kind of handsome, but not in the rugged sense like Darrin. Our eyes met, and he subtly smiled at me. 

I asked Mom, "Who's that guy over there?" 

"That's Kevin Anderson (a good Swedish name). His mother said that he moved back here after accepting an engineering job at 3M. Why do you ask? Are you interested in him?" 

"No, for god's sake, I was just wondering. I've seen him sitting there the last couple of Sundays and was just wondering who he was." 

"If you want, I can introduce you." 

"No, no, that's not why I was asking. Just curious that's all," I snapped. I wasn't ready for another man in that way. Mom is always looking to set me up.

*****

Over the next month, I always noticed if he was in church. It became one of the things I surveyed unconsciously upon our arrival. Apparently, he had homesteaded that pew spot. I assumed it was because he was a creature of habit like me. 

Fall was creeping in like a cat burglar during the night. The leaves were getting a little pale in anticipation; the squirrels were harvesting pine cones like crazy, scurrying from one tree to the next; the hummingbirds had left for Mexico; the shadows were lengthening as the days got shorter. My mental psyche's scars had scabbed over and like the weather were enceinte for a change. 

That Sunday, we stayed for an after-service potluck. I talked with several of my parents' friends. Returning to the buffet to pick up one of the homemade oatmeal raisin cookies, Kevin and I both reached for the last one. I pulled my hand back like it was a bear trap. 

"Why don't you take it? I'll get one of those delicious peanut butter cookies instead," Kevin responded. 

"Well, if you really don't mind, I do love these." 

He presented his hand saying, "Hi, I'm Kevin Anderson." 

I reluctantly took it, replying, "I'm Abby - Abby Weiss." Why did that exchange sound so familiar? 

"Are you new here?"

"No, my family has been members for years. I've just been gone for a while." 

"I'm glad you came back. It's my good fortune." 

We continued our conversation for a few more minutes before I excused myself to get back to my parents, but I had found out that he was enjoying his new job and being back in his hometown, too. He was doing some engineering research on new glue prototypes. 

The next Sunday, he made sure that he said hello and chatted me up a few minutes before the service. When I'd look his way during the service, he'd always smiled like I'd given him a gift by noticing him. 

After a couple weeks of this, he approached me after service and asked, "I'm planning on going to see a movie. Would you like to come?" 

It was a movie that had a lot of buzz. I was interested in going, but was I ready to be alone with a man yet?

Well, it's not like he asked me to fuck him. He just asked me to go to a movie. I certainly wasn't doing anything with my life right now. 

"Well, thanks for the invitation, but..." 

"I heard it's a great movie and has some Oscar buzz. Are you sure you wouldn't like to see it? We could go to the matinee this afternoon," he inserted before I could say, "No." 

An afternoon date, I hadn't had one of those since middle school. What would be the harm? I really wanted to see the movie. Kevin seemed safe plus he was cute and had a nice smile. 

"I guess that'll be OK," I reluctantly responded. 

"Great! I'll pick you up around 2 PM." 

Mom was excited about me getting out of the house saying, "Abby, dear, it'll be good for you to be around someone your own age, and who knows?" 

"Mom, don't get too worked up about this. It's just a movie, not a date!" 

Kevin arrived right on time. I was wearing jeans with my knee-high boots, a long-sleeved cotton blouse and a light sweater. I deliberately tried not to gussy up for him - no makeup, no perfume, hair in a ponytail. It was just a movie, not a date. 

The movie was great as advertised. When we came out of the theater, it was freezing. I guess a cold front had passed through during the matinee. My sweater wasn't cutting it. Kevin took his coat off and wrapped it around my shoulders. He put his arm around me to keep me warmer. That was thoughtful of him, but I'm sure he wanted to fuck me. That's all men think about. 

He suggested that we grab a bite at a nearby eatery. Being hungry, I ordered a turkey sandwich. He got a burger. We talked for several hours about all kinds of things. Kevin was a little nerdy, but, hey, nerds are the ones making discoveries that change the world. 

Surprisingly, his views about a lot of things were the same as mine. It was invigorating to talk with someone again even a man. During our conversation, I mentioned that I noticed he always took the same pew spot. Kevin hesitantly shared his reason for his location. 

"Being 100 percent honest, I hope you don't find this too creepy, but I took that spot so I could see you." 

I thought it was kind of sweet and especially brave since I could have shot him down. 

He took me home and didn't even try to kiss me. I appreciated that; after all, it wasn't a date.

A few days later, he called me and just wanted to talk. We talked until it was bedtime. He'd call every few days to see how my days were going and tell me about what he was doing at work or his plans for the weekend. After two weeks of this, he asked me out again. I said, "Yes." 

We went to dinner. He held my hand. During dinner, he noticed the scars on my arms and asked, "What happened here?" 

I knew if I answered his question truthfully, he'd probably run for the hills. As much as I had begun to enjoy his company and our conversations, he needed to know the real facts, and I'd just have to live with the fallout. 

In a matter-of-fact tone, I said, "About a year ago, I tried to kill myself." 

His face turned a ghostly shade. 

After a few seconds, he said, "I wasn't expecting that." 

"I guess that kind of kills the mood, doesn't it?" 

"No," he responded, "it must have been a real hurtful situation to have felt that was your only choice." 

He hadn't jumped up and ran off. His stock was rising in my eyes. 

"Yes, it was." 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. 

I hadn't talked to anyone about this except my therapist. My folks knew it was over Darrin, but they tried to pretend nothing had happened. I was still their sweet little girl, not a cock and cunt sucking slut, and I would eventually be OK. 

I asked, "Do you really want to know or are you just being polite?" 

"No, I really want to know. I want to know everything about you." 

Suggesting we go somewhere quiet, I told him the story uninterrupted. Maybe I was trying to see if he'd run after he knew all the facts. I spent a couple of hours debriefing him on my tragedy. He held my hand during my emotional cleansing. It was like picking a scab, just hoping it didn't start bleeding again. I didn't tell him every little detail, but he got the idea that Darrin had used me to get what he wanted. 

"Are you all right now?" 

"I'm getting better. You don't ever get over something like that you just move on with God's help. The further away it is. The less it hurts." 

"It sounds like your faith is strong and that'll hold you up." 

We never made it to the movie that night. He took me home around midnight. He walked me to our front door and kissed my cheek. I knew Kevin would be history as soon as I went inside.

*****

Much to my surprise, Kevin called a few days later.

"After our last time out, I thought I'd never hear from you again." 

Kevin answered, "Well, that was a lot to get my head around. It took longer than I wanted, but I'm not that easily dissuaded. Besides, you need someone like me in your life." 

"Well, aren't you the confident one."

"You might say I'm a masochist, but would you like to go out tomorrow night?" 

"What do you have in mind?" 

"The planetarium is having a new star show that starts at 7 PM. It's too cold to be outside star-gazing." 

"OK, it's a date. See you then." I hung up. 

It was an "official" date. My insides had this quivering excitement. You know that flush that comes over you when you let someone new into your life. I tried to channel Gracie by saying, "Take it slow. Don't rush things. It's too early to go there." 

One thing I can say about engineers is that they're punctual. Kevin arrived precisely when he said he would. He opened the car door for me. That was refreshingly different. 

We were at the planetarium about ten minutes early. Again, opening the door for me, he was a real gentleman. There weren't a lot of people in attendance, but that was fine with me. I was looking forward to the lights being dimmed. Kevin held my hand. My heart was racing. 

The show was especially good. It was mostly Hubble pictures of galaxies and nebulae. They were amazingly beautiful. It made you wonder what else is out there and how pitiful our little lives and problems are in the grand scheme of things. 

Afterword, we went back to Kevin's apartment. He must have spent the last two days cleaning because it didn't look like a bachelor pad - too neat, but maybe it was an engineer thing. We had a couple glasses of wine, which I drank too fast. You know what that meant. 

Kevin took my hand and kissed it. His lips were warm on my skin. Our fingers intertwined. He kissed it again. I closed my eyes. I felt him lean in. Our lips met. His kiss was soft and loving. His lips began kissing my face, neck and my ears as his fingers ran through my hair. I was alive again. I wanted him. 

My hand slid up his leg until I found the bulge in his pants. He was hard for me. Squeezing his throbbing manhood, I wanted him inside me. It had been so long. His hand found my tit and began to give it a great sensual massage. I began to unbuckle his belt and pants. 

He stopped me saying, "Abby, let's not do that right now." 

I was incredulous and blurted out, "Don't you want to fuck me?" 

"No... I don't want to fuck you. I... want to make love to you." 

"Ok, whatever you call it. I want you inside me," I demanded. 

"Abby, you're in a vulnerable state, and I don't want you like this. I may be the stupidest man on earth, but I don't want to be a one-night stand for you. I think you don't want that either." 

I knew this would break him when I said, "Let me suck your cock. I love the taste of cum." 

"Abby, you don't know how hard it is to turn down that request." 

I grabbed his cock and said, "You're right. It really is hard." 

He stood up and said, "I've got to take you home before we both regret this." 

Being intentionally hurtful, I said, "Are you a virgin?" 

"Abby, I'm going to forgive you for that because you're upset, but we've got to go now." 

He took me home and walked me to our front door. He didn't even kiss me. I knew Kevin would be history as soon as I went inside. I guess I'd blown it with him.

*****

It had been three weeks since our date. Kevin wouldn't even talk to me at church, even though he still sat in the same pew. During the sermon, I'd catch him looking at me. I'd done a lot of thinking since then. My therapist said I was trying to sabotage myself because I was afraid of a "real" relationship, and this was my way of destroying it before it got started.

I guess I wasn't as well as I thought. I was truly sorry for hurting a sweet guy. 

After church, Kevin walked up to me and said, "We need to talk." 

Again, I played the game, saying, "Talk about what." 

"I know you're a smart woman, so let's not play games. Do you want to talk about what happened or not?" 

Was he giving me another chance to straighten out my life? 

"Oh, that. It would probably be OK." 

We went to one of those quiet rooms at the library and talked for hours about what had happened and why. He was the one person I could really talk with. He seemed to understand how fucked up my mental state was and still was willing to be my friend in spite of that, more if I'd let him. I was definitely a project at that point. 

We decided to be "friends without benefits," and over the next six months, I felt myself becoming attached to his mannerisms, compassion for others, passion for life and sense of humor. For being a nerd, he was really funny. He made me laugh, and I needed that too. I looked forward to our conversations. 

Sitting in our living room, I was thinking about Kevin and something he'd said when Mom asked, "What are you thinking about?" 

"Nothing, why do you ask?" 

"You just had the sweetest smile on your face. I wondered what was making you so happy. It's nice seeing you smile again," she answered.

*****

Kevin and I had planned a Thursday picnic at his parents' summer house near Lake Vermillion. We had finished our lunch and we were sitting on a blanket enjoying the fresh air and a spring day. There was only one little cloud in the sky when it began a deluge. We grabbed all our stuff and ran for the porch. I couldn't believe how much water came out of that little cloud. We were both soaked to the skin. It was a cold rain, too. I started to shiver. 

Kevin said, "Let's go inside. I'll get you a dry blanket." 

He rummaged around and found one that he wrapped around me. I was still shivering, and my lips were turning blue. 

He said, "You need to get out of those wet clothes." 

"I'll do it if you get out of yours, too." 

My teeth began chattering. 

He answered, "Okay." 

I said, "Don't look," as I stripped as fast as I could. 

Once we were both snug in our blankets, I sat on the sofa by the fire that Kevin had started. I was still shivering. He slid next to me and put his arm around me while rubbing his hand up and down on my arms through the blanket. I felt safe with him. Laying my head on his shoulder as we cuddled, I was warming up in more than one way. 

He kissed my head and asked, "Is that better?" 

"I think it's perfect." 

My eyes rolled up to look at his face. It was magic seeing the love in his eyes. 

"I know we're supposed to be friends, but I want more than that. Abby, do you know how much I love you?" 

"Why don't you tell me?" 

"You fill my thoughts constantly. I love that you laugh at my jokes. I love the high-pitched squeal you make when you're excited. I love the way your eyes sparkle, and the way your hair shines in the sunlight. I love your inner beauty. I love your big heart. I love your good soul. I love you with the complete essence of my being. I love you, Ms. Abby Weiss... Is that good enough?" 

"That'll do." 

I pulled him to my lips. His kisses touched my heart not just my emotions. I was back in Paris as we "Frenched" to the heights of the Eiffel Tower. It was different this time, not just lust, but love. Our lips moved over each other's skin as we thrashed under the blankets. While looking deep into my eyes, Kevin took my face in his hands and kissed me passionately. I could feel his love in that embrace. 

As we kissed, I moved his hand from my waist to my boob. It ached to be touched. Kevin's fingers danced over my nipple, igniting its erection. His touch was so gentle and loving that made me want him more as my tongue searched for his tonsils. It was controlled frenzy.

We were both under our blankets now.

"Kevin, kiss me here." I pointed to my neck.

He responded by peppering my neck with nibbles, licks and kisses.

Pointing to my shoulder, “Kiss me here."

Again, he reciprocated similarly with nibbles, licks and kisses.

Touching my breast, "Kiss me here."

Kevin held it in his hand just admiring my meager fleshy mound.

"Abby, they are the most beautiful ones I've ever seen. They fit you perfectly."

He thought my boobs were beautiful, and began treating them like they were precious – light kisses, long licks, sensuous sucks. My pussy was drooling its Pavlovian response.

My hand found his hard cock sandwiched between our thighs. I spread my legs and guided him into my wetness. As he slowly sunk his seven inches into me, I could feel it all. I felt his love flood over me. It was better than even the first time with Darrin.

He whispered, "I love you, Abby."

I cried.

We took it slow - a kiss here, a touch there, a light stroke here, a lick right there, hmmm. It was like I imagined lovemaking should be. His warm skin on mine becoming one in love. My curves fit snuggly into his. We meshed like two interlocking pieces. We didn't fuck. We made love.

*****

I've come to believe that God made us like musical notes – a different pitch, intensity, volume and underlying feeling. We're here to convey God's feelings through our notes in concert with others to produce wonderful, loving, harmonious sounds in the world. 

Darrin was like the fourth note in Beethoven's 5th symphony - big, bold, loud, and overpowering. My note is like one from the 1st Movement of Beethoven's Pastoral symphony - soft, delicate, serene and relaxing. When we played our notes, his sound overpowered mine. I couldn't hear myself when I was around him. I thought we were making music together, but I couldn't hear and lost my place in the score. 

With Kevin, our notes are in the same key and chord - no dissonance. We make beautiful music together. It's not loud and showy, but it's wonderful, heartfelt and soulful. I know he loves me with all his heart, soul and being. He tells me every day. That's so reassuring. Isn't that what we're all searching for in life - a partner, lover, someone that completes our chord? Oh, how I love the heart and soul of this man, and I look forward to spending a lifetime with him. After all, I’m an eternal optimist.