Responding to your challenge:
A certain someone has thrown down the gauntlet here for me to tell you a story. It is not really about a date, more a sudden and amazing change. If anyone has a problem with extramarital sex, please move on now.
About two and a half years ago—yes, it was one hell of a summer!—I had been trying to set up a business luncheon with a colleague at another firm for several weeks. Everything seemed to conspire against it. Every time we had a firm date, an emergency for one of us would spring out of the woodwork or something would happen to make it impossible. Finally, in desperation, I said, “Look, you take the Path home, right? I'm at the World Trade Center, so let's meet for a drink after work and look over this stuff and it will be convenient for you to head home afterward.”
This man and I had known each other professionally for 15 years at this time; I was his client and I had enormous regard for his work. He is one of the best there is. I had always found him startlingly attractive; even the scent of his body when he sat next to me during a meeting was marvelous. BUT he was extremely married and I knew there was simply no way he would “fool around”—he is simply not that kind of person. So I kept my itching hands to myself and put the thought aside. Our professional relationship was far too important to risk with silliness.
We met at a bar in the Wall Street area that had the usual group of “regulars.” We got a great deal of work accomplished as I drank wine and he drank beer. The “regulars” started playing music and dancing. He asked me if I'd like to dance too. I thought, why not join in the fun? Oh, oh, a couple of glasses of wine, that close contact—I felt my body moulding itself to his. We were there until the place closed—10 p.m. as it's a work-oriented bar—and then we were outside on the street, kissing as though we'd never kiss anyone ever again. And, lord love us, he could kiss!
Some remnant of sanity took hold. I thought, “Oh, my God, you're his client and you're all over him like a cheap suit. What's he supposed to say, ‘Get your hands off me?'” I headed him for the Path and took a cab home. The next day, I apologized to his voice mail. He called back and was flirtatious; I figured it was gallantry on his part. My behavior was deeply embarrassing to me and it was kind to rescue me.
After he returned to work from two weeks' vacation, he invited me to dinner. (We'd had dinner many times before, work-related, nothing unusual.) I said sure, thinking to myself, you will behave yourself; that was merely a momentary bit of idiocy.
Dinner was fine, just the right note, lots of work accomplished and a bit of friendly conversation. After dinner, he suggested a nightcap at a nearby bar, where I could enjoy an after-dinner cigarette. How thoughtful.
Over drinks we continued to talk, the mood was very relaxed and enjoyable. However, I began to worry about the time in light of his long commute home. I said a couple of times, “It's getting late, shouldn't you be heading for your train?” To which he replied, “Oh, it's not a problem.”
Finally, at 12:40, I said, “It's really late. Won't your family be worried about you?” To which he replied, “I have been trying to tell you, they are all up at the Cape. There is no one waiting for me.” He must have thought I was as dumb as a stump!
Twenty minutes later, we were at my apartment. Another five minutes and we were making love on the floor. It was incredible, it just felt so damned good! You know how sometimes you're on the same wavelength and everything just works like it almost never does? Right. And then less than ten minutes later, we started again. And enjoyed each other again! And then less ten minutes later….well, this time, we made it upstairs onto the bed, which was much more comfortable than the floor.
Finally, we dozed for about 90 minutes. When the alarm went off at 5:30, damn if we weren't at it again like a couple of minks!
Well, knowing what a deeply moral person he is—and I don't mean to sound sneering; something like this is an astounding anomaly for this man—I thought, well, there was a wonderful moment stolen out of time! Lucky you!
Then he called, he'd be working late and staying in the city….
Then there was a business trip (immediately following the long weekend with the man in Seattle).
Then there was….
Then there are the last two and a half years. You know all that stuff about don't have an affair with a married man because he'll never be there when you need him? Pffft! He is devoted to his family—which is one of the things I most love about him—yet somehow he's always found a way to be there when I have most needed his loving support.
And the sex has escalated to out of your wildest dreams. How many men will try anything ? And not in a controlling or a smarmy fashion? The open curiosity of a child to learn more about pleasure and pleasing, coupled with a high-powered mind is indescribably delicious and lovable.
The broken down reference had to do with this man's having had hip replacement surgery last month. Old is someone else's business, not mine. I am speaking of a man of 45 years.
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