How to Make
Love Die
A Voyeur’s
Confession – PART 1
By Jack Burton
Copyright 2012 Jack Burton - All
rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1470137915 ISBN-10: 1470137917
Revised
10-14-12
Or for public comments,
http://howtomakelovedie.blogspot.com
Prelude
**** 2012 Note
****
I wrote this during a manic six weeks in the spring
of 2001. It's been published on an
obscure pay site for the last ten years.
The site recently closed.
People keep emailing and asking for a copy so I've
decided to make it available again. I've
done some editing, but most of it is described just as I lived it.
This book is a work of original fiction for legal
reasons, but the story is true. What
you'll read happened the way I describe, except I've changed the names and a
few other details that do not greatly affect the story. This was done in order to protect the guilty.
My
name is Jack, and this is the true story of the erotic, voyeuristic, and
emotional aspects of my marriage to Tracy, my wife of the last 16 years.
I'm
not really a writer as you'll soon discover.
I don't know shit about character and plot development. I don't do much about setting the scene. I did help with a newsletter once and have
written some documentation. So if this
seems like a technical description, well, it is.
Have
you ever wondered what people REALLY think as they struggle with sexual
relationships? Or what REALLY happens in
a marriage challenged by a ménage a trois, and then a cheating spouse? If so, you're probably a voyeur and may be
interested in this story. Otherwise, it may contain more than you want to
know. I've written things most people
never admit. I think of it as a very
biased and subjective anthropological study.
This
book was written from my direct observations and feelings as well as others
comments to me at the time. A few
identifying details are changed. The
rest is true.
This
is not the story of my marriage or its challenges. There are lots of other issues. This is the story about the romantic, erotic,
and sexual adventures that are woven through the good and bad parts of my time
with Tracy. I'm simply trying to
understand who felt what and why. I've
also tried to convey the erotic experience as I perceived it. The sex may not be as graphic as some of the
stories you've read on porn sites, but it's all real.
I've
tried to be objective, but not crude. I
don't know of any exaggerations. I'm not
a good liar. I didn't make the dicks and
tits bigger, or the sex hotter than it actually was. I've tried to be honest while realizing my
view is subjective.
This
is a guy story. It's written for
guys. It's not a chick thing. I doubt most women would "get it"
anyway. I don't describe lots of flowery
romantic images, though it IS romantic.
At least it is for me.
This
is a tale of courtship, tension, romance, seduction, intrigue, and jealousy.
It's about me giving my wife to another man in an attempt to keep her. It's also a tale of cheating, betrayal, and
resolution.
Shit Happens
I've
read lots of stories from different sites and magazines. It's easy to tell the fake “true stories”. They are written like wishes, not
reality. In the "real" true
stories, shit happens. That's the key.
Sometimes it's funny. Sometimes
it's sad. But it's usually
unpredictable.
In
typical fiction or fantasy, the action is laid out so the story comes at you
like an orgasm. The conflict builds and
builds until there's a climax, then a short resolution. I've read lots of Penthouse Letters. In those fake erotic stories there's always a
blow job, straight sex, and in the end, anal.
Real life isn't so smooth and predictable. Often you don't know if you're going to get
laid or not. That's how it is with
adventure.
Real
life cruises along, maybe boring as hell for a long time. Then shit happens,
and it gets crazy. It may be out of
control for a while, or it may be boring again.
Or maybe you just think you have it under control. Real life doesn't come at you like you wish
it might. THAT is the test of a true
story. If shit happens, then it's
probably true. As you'll see in this
story... shit happens.
I
already said it's a story of romance and sex, but is it erotic or just
porn? I guess that's up to you, and your
sensibilities. It was erotic for me at the time. You'll have to decide for yourself. For me, it's also a forever romance with its
erotic side effect. There's betrayal of the deepest kind. I've tried to accurately describe what
happened as well as how I felt. Let me
know what you think.
What's This Poem For?
I
started writing this story to help me understand what I was feeling. Re-reading it helps. I wanted to map out my own sexuality and how
it may have affected my marriage.
I
spent a lot of time on a web-site where these topics were discussed. I'm not sure why I started letting other
people read the story. Maybe it's
because I hadn't found anyone on the internet that had honestly described the
emotional consequences as well as the erotic experience that comes from sharing
your wife with another man. At least not
the way it happened to me.
Or
maybe it's because I feel like that old guy in the "Rime of the Ancient
Mariner". I just need to find a
listener and tell my tale.
Maybe
it's how I do my penance.
As
a matter of fact, my tale is similar to the Mariner's in many respects: joy,
frustration, a willful act, regret, an attempt to set it right, intervention,
and of course, the need to tell the tale.
Since
it's in public domain, and to help you understand what I mean, I've included
the entire poem, but only a bit at a time.
It breaks up the intensity for me.
Maybe it’ll do the same for you.
The Rime of the Ancient
Mariner
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge
It
is an ancient Mariner,
And
he stoppeth one of three.
"By
thy long grey beard and glittering eye,
Now
wherefore stopp'st thou me?
"The
Bridegroom's doors are opened wide,
And
I am next of kin;
The
guests are met, the feast is set:
May'st
hear the merry din."
He
holds him with his skinny hand,
"There
was a ship," quoth he.
"Hold
off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!"
Eftsoons
his hand dropt he.
He
holds him with his glittering eye--
The
Wedding-Guest stood still,
And
listens like a three years child:
The
Mariner hath his will.
The
Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:
He
cannot choose but hear;
And
thus spake on that ancient man,
The
bright-eyed Mariner.
… to be continued
Some Background
Before
I go any further, I have to admit some things:
I'm
a voyeur. And I like to share my wife
with other men, going beyond simple troilism in many ways.
As
a voyeur, I of course like to watch; but I'm not the peeping-tom kind. I never got into that. Well, almost never. If I came across a couple making out or even
more, sure I'd watch. But I didn't go
looking for it. My interest in watching
is more with women I know, and especially a lover. I have always been drawn to the dynamics and
feelings, not just the graphic visual aspect of sex.
Still,
I do appreciate the actual watching. I
consider naked bodies in motion one of nature's highest art forms. And it's even better if I can hear the sounds
and what's being said. I especially like
observing the behavior of a seduction, whoever's involved.
And
when it's with someone I care about, it's even more compelling. That's the sharing part. When I'm jealous, it gets all tangled up in
control and erotic expression. THAT is
what this book is all about.
But
I'm not into the whole cuckold fetish.
In this case, cuckold is simply incidental to the sharing. I'm not into being humiliated in any
way. I find actual cucks comical and
silly, but each to their own.
As
I'm sure you've assumed, I like sex. I
always figured everyone did, but I discovered I like it more than most. And I like it more often. I also enjoy the seduction, the chase, and
the dance. I like the entire process,
whether I succeed or not.
I
was married for several years in my early twenties, but after four years, I
cheated. When I divorced, I decided I
wouldn’t marry again until I was ready to have only one woman for the rest of
my life - no cheating. So I wasn't
planning on getting married any time soon.
As a matter of fact, I couldn't imagine a situation under which I could
remain monogamous for very long. I
figured if someone could put me in that frame of mind, we'd at least have a
chance.
In
the mean-time, I loved the chase. And it
didn't matter much who, as long as they were responding. That was the key for me - response. I loved it when some cutie would say
"no", but I could feel "yes" in the way she moved against
me. And I loved it even more when she
finally owned up to her feelings. Sure,
I've probably pushed too hard and gotten it wrong a few times, but I've never
been involved in anything even close to rape.
I simply paid attention to who I was with, and then was assertive as
needed.
Also,
you shouldn't confuse my approach with sport fucking. For me, it wasn't about numbers or conquest,
not at all. OK, I've had quite a few
lovers, but the point was the interaction, not the numbers. Yes, a few were only for one night, but more
often the relationship lasted for weeks.
Often until she realized I wasn't hooked, or I became distracted by
someone new.
Being Single
So
let’s get back to my story. Before I met
Tracy, I focused on being single. Even
though it wasn't sport fucking, I was a horn-dog, satyr, slut, or whatever you
want to call me. I worked hard at
getting laid, well and often.
Every
year or two I'd slip into a relationship that lasted a few months, but in
general I'd been very single for a long time.
I owned my own business and met lots of people. It was easy to hook up. I traveled quite a bit because of work. It was easy to break up.
I
wasn't the typical lounge lizard. I
don't drink much, and I wasn't into drugs (well maybe a little weed now and
then). The point is, I never took
advantage of women when they were at limited capacity. I liked them "knowing" what was
happening and being deliberate or yielding with their actions. I wasn't the typical player in the typical bar. I looked elsewhere for my relationships.
I
met women running. I met women through
my friends. I met women at work. I met women in the grocery store. I also met women roller skating which I did
once a week. But I don't think I EVER
met a woman in a bar with whom I later had sex.
I'm serious. It's just not my
style.
And
I didn't lie to get laid. I'd rather
jack-off than tell some chick "I love you" when I didn't. I didn't want to resort to alcohol or lies. I like being wanted. Alcohol and lies distort being wanted. Being wanted is the most erotic thing there
is for me. Well, except for sharing, but
more on that later.
I
also wasn't that picky about physical characteristics. Who I ended up with had more to do with the
interaction than her face, weight, or body shape. OK, OK, I didn't fuck any obese chicks, but I
did spend the night with lots of different flavors of women. Some of which were definitely not my
type. It was the dance that
counted. And that's the point.
Mostly,
I didn't plan to stay, so it was more about the situation, the tension and like
I said, how much they wanted me. That
doesn't mean I didn't fuck attractive women.
I did. A few were even
beautiful. But looks are often about arm
candy, which doesn't matter to me at all.
For me, good physical condition was far more important than beauty.
I
especially like the chase, romance and sex.
Romance is about feelings. Sex is about chemistry and cues. The chase adds tension. I enjoy when the factors get all intertwined.
Also,
I'm not a nice guy, so I'm not the hero of this story. I like to fuck. If I thought she wanted me, I'd fuck her,
employee or not, married or not, good looking or not. It was about the erotic
tension, not the numbers. I loved the
chase. I loved the sex. I'll give you a couple of examples. You'll see what I mean.
Just Being Honest
Here's
where I fucked someone else's wife and didn't give it a second thought. This lady had been working for us for about
six months, and she seemed to like me.
She was a striking blond (OK, so this isn't such a great example of
"looks don't matter," but then, I'm not really into blonds, so it
kind of fits).
In
any case, she had a great set of tits and one afternoon she walked into my
office and seemed like she wanted me to notice.
So I did. I told her exactly that
- "You have a great set of tits".
Crude,
I know. And yes, I know it's unfair for
the president of the company to come out and say it, but what could I do? I was just being honest. Besides, I could tell it's what she wanted to
hear. And I was right.
The
comment didn't throw her off balance at all.
Maybe she was used to quips like that.
She quickly said, "Thank you," and smiled. Remember, this was back in the eighties,
before sexual harassment had been recognized as a crime. Besides as she told me later, she had been
trying to get my attention for months.
So who was harassing whom?
Anyway,
the next thing I said was, "I need groceries, let's go shopping."
She
looked at me as if to say, "Are you serious?"
A
comment about her tits was fine, but groceries in the middle of the afternoon
surprised her. Go figure. I just smiled.
She
said, "Cool," so we left.
While
we were unloading the bags of food at my house, she kept rubbing her tits on my
back, but I decided to play with her a while.
The general rule is, if you can get them in your house (or bedroom),
don't retreat until you have penetration.
I was feeling cocky. In this
case, I asked her to dinner instead of the bedroom.
She
said she had to call her husband first.
DAMN! Right there I knew I'd be
fucking her before the night was over. I
used to play this game about WHEN I knew.
Afterwards, I'd often ask my lovers when THEY knew. Well, THIS was when I knew.
Over
dinner she told me about two affairs she'd had.
One was her husband's brother!
She even described how the guy seduced her and how they got caught by
her husband. She said it didn't matter;
her husband would never leave her. He
was too much in love. HE fit the cuckold
profile.
And
no, I didn't take her home after dinner.
I was still teasing. I parked on the hill and took my time while we
continued talking. I really like it when the conversation continues on one
level and I'm communicating with my fingers on another. It requires a bit of concentration but the
results are worth it.
First
I started on those beautiful tits while she talked about her family. These breasts really were of excellent shape
and size, about 36C. After playing with
her nipple for a while, I moved my hand down over her stomach very slowly so
she would know where I was headed long before I got there. That’s the key. If she didn’t stop me, it meant tacit
approval. The conversation continued. So did my fingers.
She
was wearing pants and the belt buckle was easy.
Next I popped the button and started lowering the zipper. She shifted in her seat and actually held the
top of her pants so I could get the zipper all the way down - definitely
cooperating. No doubt here.
As
my hand slid under the elastic of her panties, she was still talking about her
mom. Then I got a surprise. There was no hair! The first thing I hit was
her clit. She was shaved! Now, that's no big deal today, but in the
early eighties it was somewhat exotic.
Hers
was the first shaved pussy I had ever encountered, and it was already wet. I truly liked that part. It often means they want you no matter what
they are saying or how hard they are trying to run away. This one wasn't running at all. She was still talking about her mom. As long as I kept advancing, she kept
talking. This is what I mean by
script. I’d found one of hers.
Even
as I took her pants off, laid back the seat and slid into her, she kept talking
about inconsequential things. But when I
kissed her, she got quiet. Then she
said, "Wait! Wait! I don't have any birth control. Do you?
Damn, damn, damn."
I
didn't have a condom either. I didn't
use them much back then. This was the
early eighties and AIDS hadn’t even been characterized yet. Single girls were all on the pill. Also, married women that wanted sex weren't
that common, at least not for me.
I
said, "Don't worry, I'll pull out."
This
didn't seem to reassure her. She was
giving me that, “Are you serious?” look.
So I opened the passenger-side door, got down on my knees and started
eating her out. This seem to assuage her
fears.
I
got her off twice, before I moved back up and slid in again. I went slow and steady but finished just
rubbing against her slit on the outside.
I squirted all over her belly.
She rubbed it around with her finger and smiled. It was a pretty good piece of ass,
considering. We got together several
more times over the next few weeks.
Right up until I had to go to Boston.
Another Quick Example
Believe
it or not, this actually happened a few weeks later. I was only in Boston for a few days and didn't
know anyone there. But I did get lucky.
Out
of five people on the project, there was this older lady and we had been
working together all week. She wasn't
really that old, just older than me, maybe about 35. She was only OK looking. Not fat or anything, just a little
frumpy. But she did have a nice smile.
I
wasn't attracted to her at first, but we talked some. I found out she wasn't married, but had been
several years before. I started to get
the feeling she was attracted to me. I
can't resist that.
On
the last night I was there, we all went to a pizza place that showed
movies. So I'm sitting there eating
pizza and she sits down on my right. She
was very close and seemed to be trying to catch my eye in the dark room. Was she flirting with me? Or was I imagining it?
I
think it was because of the risk. Or
maybe it was the fact that what I wanted to do was so inappropriate under the
circumstances. In any case, I reached
over and put my hand on her leg. She was
wearing a short skirt and my hand was just above her knee. She didn't have pantyhose on. Her skin was
warm. I left my hand there for a long
time. She didn't do anything at
all. I didn't do anything either.
After
a while I felt her hand on top of mine, but she wasn't pushing it away. She was just rubbing it lightly. That was all I needed. I started moving up the inside of her leg. She went back to eating her pizza. Before the movie was over, I got two fingers
wet.
When
I asked her to come back to my room, she said no, but she would walk me back to
my hotel since she was parked in their parking garage.
I
asked her, "Why not come up?"
She
said if she went to my room, she wouldn't be able to stop herself. And she wasn't sure if this was something she
wanted to do. I asked her if she was
afraid of getting pregnant. She said no;
she was on the pill.
I
held her hand on the way back to the hotel, but in an un-gentlemanly fashion I
didn't take her to the parking garage.
Instead, we walked into the lobby.
As I got in the elevator, she stopped at the threshold with a confused
look on her face. I had to reset the
door twice while our eyes were locked on each other. Who was going to blink
first? Someone else stepped in. I let the door button go. She stepped in just before it closed.
I
held her hand again. The tension rose
along with us. I could feel it in her
fingers. We walked even slower down the hall to my room. I stopped half way and gave her a kiss. And she was ready to be kissed! Wow! A
needed distraction?
As
we got to the door, I unlocked it but only got it barely open when she said,
"Wait, I can't go in there."
She
put her arms around my neck to kiss me a final time. I don't know if it was the beer or maybe she
thought the door was still latched, but she pressed her crotch up against my
leg pushing me off balance. We fell
through the door. I caught her on top of
me as we landed on the floor and both started laughing.
Then
she was kissing me again, a serious kiss, not the good-bye kind. She wasn't laughing anymore. I reached down, held her legs up and kicked
the door shut. As I lay back down, I
whispered in her ear, "Now that you're in my hotel room, I won't be able
to stop you." She giggled at this and kissed me again. I slowly began to unbutton her blouse. The high-rise room was illuminated only by
the lights of Boston.
We
continued kissing (she really liked to kiss) but I had to raise her up to get
her blouse off and undo her bra. I then picked
her up and carried her to the bed right next to the floor to ceiling windows.
I
found the zipper on the side and got her skirt and then got her panties off.
Now she was naked on the bed. Once I was
undressed, I took my time. I love it
when it's inevitable. I lay down beside
her and continued kissing and rubbing her body from head to toe.
At
one point, I held her foot as I kissed my way up her ribs to her breast. She had her knees wide open. I had pulled her foot up almost to her
ass. I stuck my finger in her juices and
began rubbing it between her toes. She
started laughing. This was new for me
too. It was random.
I
jumped off the bed and knelt on the floor between her legs. I reached up and pulled her ass to the edge
of the bed. My face was hovering over
her cunt but she covered it with her hand.
"You
don't have to do that," she said.
It's
age related. If you were born before the
fifties, oral sex is a dirty thing. It's
weird and forbidden. I pulled her hand
away and plunged my tongue in her cunt.
Her body went rigid and she gave out a little yelp. Then she totally relaxed into my tongue which
I just held against her. It was like she
melted into the bed, and into my mouth.
I
went slowly, barely moving my tongue at first.
I could hear her breathing now. I
then worked my way up to her clit as I inserted two fingers. It didn't take her long to come and when she
did, her body jerked at the waist and her ass raised up off the bed a little.
I
jumped up and drove my cock into her hard as she screamed. I think it was more from the surprise, than
any kind of pain because she was very wet.
Her gasping turned to laughter then silence as I started a slow steady
pumping action.
I
leaned down to kiss her. At first she
wouldn't respond I think because of the taste.
I pressed my tongue between her lips anyway. She later told me the smell and taste was so
naughty she gave up control. She open up
and kissed me aggressively as I fucked her hard. She started coming again as she tried to gulp
air around my tongue. I just ground the
base of my cock against her clit hard and held it there. I like to think it was the thought of tasting
her own pussy that sent her over the top again.
I felt her cunt clinching me.
This
was too much. I fucked her hard to catch
up. She was totally relaxed and
recovering when I finally came in her.
She held on and kissed me some more.
"Ooooh,
you come hard," she said and laughed a little.
We
only lay there a few minutes when she got up and started looking for her
clothes. I asked her where she was going
so fast. She said her boyfriend would be calling her room soon. She didn't say anything about a boyfriend
when I'd asked if she was married. Now she explained she was actually engaged! Guys aren't the only ones who think with their
genitals.
She
bent down to kiss me one more time and said, "You're going to be gone in
the morning aren't you?"
I
nodded yes.
"Well,
I'm glad the door fell open," she said as she left with a smile.
I'm
glad the door fell open too. I later
learned she married on schedule shortly after this little adventure. I guess I was her secret bachelorette party. We
met again at a business related Christmas party only last year. We danced and talked. She introduced me to her husband.
About
a month ago I read that she died in a car wreck. Maybe that’s why she’s on my mind as I write
this. Shit happens. I may have been her last fling. I like to think she still had no regrets. I certainly didn't. As you can see, she was hard to forget even
if she wasn't some hot young babe. Looks
are only part of the attraction.
Nice Ass at Two O'clock
My
sex life really wasn't as active as these two examples might indicate. There were hot times and slow times. I once went 41 days without getting
laid. But on the average, I did OK. And I had trouble saying no if I thought some
woman really wanted me.
This
was why I had a fear of getting married.
I still didn't think I could be faithful to any one woman. I decided to stay single until I just
couldn't stand it anymore.
So
that's me. Cruising along with two or
three active relationships, just enough to avoid dry spells. Most women didn't want sex as often as I did,
so I'd try to keep at least one enthusiastic lady around as back-up booty-call. It was a pretty good life actually. I was comfortable being single. Then I met Tracy. And I got a taste of doubt.
I was
still leading a tech group. At the time
I was putting in about 80 hours a week.
When I first saw her, I was roller skating (was roller skating more
popular in the 80s?). Anyway, I went
every Sunday night, to relax, think, and separate the weeks. Something about going around in circles
helped me get ready for Monday.
This
place was near the university and I liked to watch the coeds exercise their
legs. And of course, the first thing you noticed when you're skating is the
movement of their asses. All of a
sudden, here was a nice one. She looked great in jeans. Tracy is not the Playboy type (only 34B), but
has an overall nice shape and like I said, a very cute little ass.
It
was only a few seconds before we had to leave the floor. A couples skate was starting, and I came up
behind her. Hell, maybe I HAD been
following her. I'm not sure. Before I had time to think, I asked her to
skate. No time to think is the best way.
She
said, "Sure," as quickly and casually as adding fries to her order at
Burger King. We began to talk. When the
lights came back up, we continued to talk as we went around in circles. Then we found a table and talked until they
closed the place a couple hours later.
She
was a junior in college and interested in business. She wanted to be a Vice President at AT&T. Her ambition impressed me. Not only that, she was bright and
observant. She might make it.
I
soon discovered the reason for her great shape.
She had been into gymnastics and was a cheerleader in high school. Then she was involved with dance and racquetball
at the university. She was also a runner
which fit my lifestyle.
Later,
during our marriage we ran together and did lots of hiking. In the last few years, she'd gotten into
adventure racing. Tracy is one of the
few women I've known that can keep up with me physically. She is mostly muscle, but not bulked
out. She's more on the lean side, and
small. I liked that a lot. She was definitely my type.
Tracy
is not classically beautiful in the face, but very pretty and terminally cute
when she turns on the charm. Once she
focuses her attention on you, the attraction becomes compelling. Overall, she was what we used to call a very
tight little package, with a lot of snap.
I'm 5'8" and in good shape.
She's several inches shorter. We
fit together well, in lots of ways.
Unfortunately,
Tracy was a challenge from the beginning.
We got along well that first night, but I could tell she had
reservations. It seemed strange at the
time, but that first night I told her I had a feeling she was going to be very
important in my life. I know it sounds
like bullshit, but it wasn't. It was one
of those weird intuitions. I felt compelled
to tell her about it. It's my honesty
thing. It's also the key to my concept
of romance – things that happen sub-logically.
She
probably though it was a line too, but didn't let on. In any case, she gave me her phone
number. When I called a few days later,
we had a great conversation, but she refused to go out with me. It was that same reservation she had
before. She had a boyfriend. Besides, she said I was too old for her. But something was telling me these were
excuses. Was it my ego?
I
was 29 at the time. She was eight years
younger and had a year to go in college to get a degree in marketing. I think the age difference was a factor, but
the boyfriend was more critical. I think
she kept me around just to flirt. I've
seen her doing it to others since. We
spent hours on the phone, but no dates.
But
I can only take so much rejection. After
six months, I gave up and quit calling.
That was that. We were done. Or so I thought. I continued to play the field. During the next few months there were several
relationships which lasted for a few weeks, but nothing serious.
Then
I met Tracy again.
Missed Opportunity
A
few months later I bought a new Porsche 928.
I was out driving around and saw a cute girl on the street talking to
some guy. As I got closer, I realized it
was Tracy! I of course had to turn
around, pull up and say hi. She wasn't
impressed with the new car, but seemed happy to see me. Before that I hadn't even known where she
lived. It was just luck that I happened
by. I took it as a sign. I like serendipity. We sat on the curb and talked for a long time.
The other guy left.
Tracy
had just quit her job and was looking to do something different while she
finished her last year of college. AND,
she had programming experience. Again,
just chance? As a tech guy, I could
always use another programmer. I offered
her a job developing some demo software for our new computer-interfaced
switches. She drove down to the office
that evening for a tour, interviewed with my colleagues, and accepted the
position.
I
had her working directly for our VP of Marketing. At first, she ignored me. Maybe hiring her wasn't such a good
idea. A few weeks later, I asked my
marketing guy how she was doing. He said
she was a quick study, but totally unmanageable. I laughed about that, considering I hadn't
been able to get a date.
I'd
heard she had rewritten some of our documentation for the new product and had
cleaned up our pricing schedule. He
agreed she did useful work, but pointed out she still hadn't started the demos
I'd hired her to write. She seemed to
work on whatever took her fancy, not what she was assigned.
So
I called her in to my office and asked her about it. She said, "There's no point in doing the
demos until the product's ready."
Then
she changed the subject. She had such a
cute smile, I let it ride. We actually
went to lunch that day, but it wasn't really a date. She was nervous and wouldn't eat. I think I intimidated her more than I realized. We were in different roles. Now I was her boss, sort of.
I
ended up having someone else write the demos, but the product was a success
partly because of her efforts. She was unmanageable,
but amazingly effective. She did what
she wanted, but she did it well. She was unmanageable in other ways too.
Without
letting me know, she had broken up with her old boyfriend and started going out
with our Unit Test Manager. Looking
back, I think she picked him so she would be even more off-limits to me. Asking
out an employee was one thing, but she figured I'd NEVER ask out an employee's
girlfriend! She was right.
Months
later she admitted she started going out with this guy because she was
attracted to me and needed a distraction. Apparently, she wanted to slow things down
between us. It worked.
I
was surprised at how quickly she switched relationships. Later, she told me she had always had a
boyfriend, well since she started dating at least. She said she had never been more than a week
without sex since she lost her virginity.
In any case, this allowed her to tease without being threatened, which
she did constantly over the next several months.
Every
time I decided to ignore her, she would find some excuse to bring something to
my office or otherwise be around. She
drove me nuts. It was as much the
jealousy as it was the flirting. Strangely
enough, this dance wasn't very sexual, but it was playful and romantic. And it was working.
The
classic definition of chivalry is to be the perfect, yet chaste lover for a
woman who has been spoken for. Her
arrangement and flirting seemed to reflect this objective. But I'm not really that chivalrous, and I had
no intention of just being her friend. I
decided to counter this approach aggressively.
But let's take a break first.
The
ship was cheered, the harbour cleared,
Merrily
did we drop
Below
the kirk, below the hill,
Below
the light-house top.
The
Sun came up upon the left,
Out
of the sea came he!
And
he shone bright, and on the right
Went
down into the sea.
Higher
and higher every day,
Till
over the mast at noon--
The
Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For
he heard the loud bassoon.
The Game of Love
I'd
played this "game" before - you can't help it. Nature uses it to help sort suitors and
create stability in a nest. It's where
you dance around trying to determine relative interest. The simple version starts in grammar school
when you send that cute girl a note directing her to check the "yes"
box if she likes you and the "no" box if she doesn't. When I was seven, I actually had a second
grader add and check a "maybe" box.
What a tease! I think she was
ahead of the class. And she was
definitely ahead of me.
Something
similar was happening here. Tracy was
more interested than the "maybe" she presented. Every time I pulled back, she would come
looking for me - literally. She would
flirt just enough to get me chasing again.
It was a fine balance. It's how the
dance works, when it does work.
Sometimes it's hard to tell. When
you are dancing, it's difficult to be objective.
I
agree with Samuel Clemens. In
"Letters from the Earth," he talked about how silly courting and
sexual behaviors are if you observed them objectively from a distance. The problem is, few humans can be that
circumspect. It's too easy to get
involved, even if it's only vicariously.
Humans,
like other animals, have a critical need to mate in order to reproduce. It's a very strong drive. It's also different in men than it is in
women.
Women
want a mate to build and protect a nest, but also want the best sperm they can
find. These two objectives don't always
have the same solution. Plus women's
behavior changes depending on where they are in their cycle. This leads to cheating and a man providing
for children who aren't his 25% of the time.
A
man wants to not only find the best "mom" to do a good job with his
kids, he also wants to spread his sperm around if at all possible. Again, cheating is common. Men and women are programed at cross
purposes. We have a built-in double
standard which is what soap operas are all about. The dance is where they sort it out. Each party looks for commitment and sometimes
give it in exchange - IF the balance is right.
So
how does this happen? Surprisingly, it
has little to do with logic. It's all
about emotional balance. Emotion flows
from perceived advantage and bonding, but can be dramatically affected by
rejection and jealously.
I'd
danced these steps many times. Approach,
withdraw, suggest, and tease. It was the
definition of flirting. But it gets more
serious with each step. The dance is
driven by perceived value of the mate compared to the self-confidence of each
partner. If there's a good balance, the
dance continues to get closer and closer until the mating becomes sexual.
If
at any step, the perceived difference is too great, the prospective couple
parts and looks for other alternatives.
If an alternative shows up DURING the dance, he (or she) will be
evaluated in the context of the existing partner.
The
point here is, perception IS reality.
Confidence is critical. Both
parties have to "believe."
It's a lot like buying a car. You
shop around until you find conviction.
Then you drive away.
But
what of rejection and jealousy? You
don't get that when you're buying a car.
Rejection normally happens when someone steps back from the dance
because their appreciation of the other person has decreased a bit. Even a little doubt is enough to disrupt the
process.
Doubt
has the effect of making the rejected person value the relationship more and
try to hold even tighter. This makes the
rejecter confirm their ever decreasing value of the mate. It's inherently destabilizing, so only the
very closest matches survive, and then only if each partner thinks THEY are
getting the best deal. Now let's throw
jealously into the mix.
If
the rejected person finds a quick alternative, the rejecter changes their mind
and approaches again. Competition
enhances the value of any mate.
Alternatives also help offset the effect of rejection, bringing things
back into balance a little.
Does
this lead to stable relationships? Only
as a bridge. Just like rejection,
jealousy normally has a short term effect.
True love and conviction tend to rule in the long term.
So
if this dance is so unstable, how do people get together at all? Well, in most
cases, they don't. Most relationships
simply don't work out. And even the ones
that do, are often buffeted by these forces.
That's why it's so rare to find a balanced, stable, long term couple
that's truly "in love" for years on end. It's a rare and valuable thing.
Enough
theory, I'll get on with my story, so you can see why these ideas are
important.
A Defensive Side Trip
I'd
been going out with several different ladies before hiring Tracy. Now they were getting ignored. Once I noticed, I decided that Tracy was to
getting to me. The balance was shifting. I don't tend to go backwards, so I needed a
new and powerful distraction. A few days
later I sat down next to this very cute little thing on a flight back from Las
Vegas.
She
had long dark hair, big tits, and a great smile. I'm normally not crazy about big tits, so I
wasn't that attracted. On the other
hand, the guy traveling with me WAS into big tits. He was sitting across the isle and started
hitting on her immediately. She began
talking to me, I think as a defensive move.
This
was the last leg of the flight so I assumed she was local. I was right. Her name was Angela and she had broken up
with some guy a week before. My friend
drove her right into my arms. In under
an hour, I was sliding her skirt up and rubbing the side of her ass underneath
the arm rest while talking intensely and looking into her eyes. She was smiling at my audacity. Sometimes you get lucky. She was also telling me the different ways
she liked to be kissed. This was going
to be too easy. I'd found my distraction
from Tracy.
But
Angela seemed to have cooled by the time we got to the luggage carousel. She was being quiet. There were a lot of people around and I was
standing behind her. I decided to find
out how adventuresome she was. She had
on a very thin dress so I sort of moved forward until I could feel her ass
against the front of my slacks. She
started moving back against me gently.
She
had taken the lead! I wasn't sure if I
was ready to up the ante in such a public place. Fortunately, our bags came before we
did. I offered her a ride home. She whispered in my ear, "You can take
me anywhere you want," and then giggled.
Bingo! I rushed her to my house and even lead her
into my bedroom, but by then she had cooled again. We were sitting on my bed drinking a beer and
she said, "So why are we in your bedroom?"
Talk
about hot and cold! She was totally
chilled. I tried lots of things, but
couldn't get pass this frontal defense.
What a tease!
Then
she put her beer down, jumped off the bed, and said, "Where's the phone
book? I should call a cab." I told
her I would take her home, but she said then I would just want to see HER
bedroom. She got down in front of my
night stand looking for the phone book.
I
couldn't resist. I got down behind her
and started humping her ass. She humped
back! I gently raised her dress up over
her back. She had a very nice ass. I
grabbed her tits and really started digging in.
She was breathing hard and pushing back.
I kept it up.
Then
I slid her panties to the side and put my hand over her pussy. She was already
wet. Just as I was about to slide my
finger in, she jumped up and said, "This is too soon," as she pulled
her dress back down.
I
looked down. The front of my pants were
wet from where I had been dry (wet?) humping her. She seemed embarrassed. "Cool," I thought. It'll be more fun to wait. I can tease as long as she can, maybe
longer. Little did I know.
I
gave her a ride home, but she wouldn't invite me in. We talked in the car for a long time, which
lead to some of that kissing she had described.
This lead to more touching and she started breathing hard. All of a sudden she jumped out of the car and
I had to roll the window down to make a date for later that week.
After
a couple of days, we had a nice dinner with lots of verbal teasing on the
side. Back at her place, we were
watching a movie. I was sitting on her butt rubbing her back and she was
moaning, but each time I tried to roll her over to undo her jeans, she would
just roll back on her stomach. Her front
was off limits.
Again
we had the weird hot and cold shifts.
This lady seemed to be a paradox.
She got hot quickly, then totally cold even faster. She seemed to freak out whenever I started
getting close to penetration or even undressing her.
I
figured it was the old problem of tease and commitment. There was some touching that night but that
was about it. Every time I tried to take
her clothes off, she would pull away. Then
she would look at me as if I was supposed to know what was going on. I felt like an idiot. We even talked about it. She said I just needed to be in the right
place with her. But she couldn't tell me
where that place was. I didn't know it
at the time but she was being literal.
This
same M.O. went on for a couple of weeks.
I began to take it as a personal challenge. In any case, it was a good break from Tracy
who just teased me in an almost platonic way.
At least Angela was teasing me in a SEXUAL way. But this wasn't the classic tease. There were times she was getting REALLY
hot. I was sure she wasn't faking
it. Or if she was, she was faking it
well. I could tell she wanted it. And she wanted it bad! So how would I get her comfortable? I had a feeling that once I managed that, it
would be worth the effort. I was right.
After
about the third or fourth date, we were at her house and I decided to take off
early. This did the trick. As I opened the door to leave, she gave me
this really hot kiss and wouldn't let go.
She didn't want me to leave. I
started playing with her ass as I was standing there. She started breathing hard again. This was good. I unzipped her pants in the front and popped
the snap open. She didn't resist.
Next
I moved both hands around her ass inside her panties. This was working. She was pushing her ass back against my
fingers opening up to me. With one arm I
held her tight so she couldn't wiggle away.
With the other hand I moved down the crack of her ass. As my finger slid across the pucker, she went
wild. Then I pushed my fingers farther down and slid all the way into her cunt
from the back. She was soaked.
The
door was still open, so I kicked it closed.
I didn't want to break the moment.
She started to roll away but I held on.
I got my fingers back into her from behind. Then I felt her relax in my arms. She started humping my fingers. I had my thumb against her asshole and
massaged it for added effect. She was
making little grunting sounds. All of a sudden, she screamed and came,
convulsing in my arms. We fell down on
the carpet with my fingers still in her.
I
didn't want her to cool off. I grabbed
her pants and pulled them off but just dropped mine to my ankles. I wasn't taking any chances. I fell between her legs and reached down to
slide it in. She was very wet everywhere.
I barely got the head in and was ready to drive home when I felt her
hands around my cock. She was holding me
from getting any farther in! Bizarre!
She
moaned, "Wait..."
So
what the hell? We had already talked
about disease and rubbers. No problems, she was on the pill and this was before
AIDS was understood. What was this
about? She held on to my cock and kept
rubbing it up and down her slit from her asshole to her clit and back
again. I would wait until she got it at
the right angle and then try to push through her hand. Once it almost went in because her hand was
slippery, but she scooted back and said, "You're dangerous."
I
laughed and rolled off.
"I'm
dangerous?" I yelled, "What about YOU?"
She
had such a forlorn look. Then she
whispered, "Don't give up on me."
I
moved to kiss her, but she turned her back to me and we were in the spoon
position with her wet and naked ass against my cock. I held her a few minutes
thinking she needed to relax, but of course my cock naturally slid into the
crack of her ass. I thought we were
relaxing but she started pushing her ass up and down my cock very slowly. This was crazy! I was getting close to raping her! At some point logic leaves you. I grab my dick and pushed it down so that it
would go in as she moved her butt back on the next up-stroke.
Flashes
of pain! Finger nails! She had her hand over the opening of her
cunt! I pulled my cock back with my hand
and she said she was sorry. I wasn't
injured badly. Or maybe I was just in
shock. Then I got pissed. I started
humping her with just a couple inches of my cock sticking out of my fist. Everything was soaked. If I got close, it would slip right in. We were wrestling, but she wasn't really
trying to get away. With my other hand I
tried to pull her arm away from her front to gain access to her cunt. If this was rape, it was weirdly
cooperatively.
I
pulled at her arm, she rolled with it keeping her hand between her legs,
pop! It went in! No. My
cock was in her ass! I didn't give a
shit. I took my hand away and drove
hard. Everything was so slippery, there
was no resistance. I went in her ass all
the way up to my balls. I was tired of
being nice. I just started fucking her
in the ass real hard. She screamed. I froze, finally realizing how rough I had
been. Then she yelled, "DON'T
STOP!"
Immediately,
I was back up to speed. Again she
started screaming, "Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes, Yes," in rhythm to the
pounding I was giving her ass. I wasn't
trying to be nice either. She seemed to
like it rough.
Well,
you get the idea. I rolled her on to her
stomach and thrust into her deep and fast.
We both started coming hard. The
tension had been so high for so long. It
was a great fuck even if it was in her ass.
I stayed in her for a long time as my dick got soft, then rolled off.
As
I was lying there afterwards, it hit me.
This is what she wanted all along.
She WANTED to be fucked in the ASS.
And I was supposed to figure it out on my own. I started laughing. She looked at me. She knew I knew. We talked about it later.
It
was something about her not wanting to be the one responsible for suggesting
such a dirty deed. After all, this WAS
the eighties. She didn't want me to
think she was THAT kind of girl unless I was THAT kind of guy.
And
if I wasn't THAT kind of guy, she said it probably wouldn't work out in the
long run. She said if she let guys into
her pussy first, it was a lot harder to get her way later on.
She
turned out to be a very hot little lady and this affair lasted for the next
several months, actually right up until I finally captured Tracy's heart. And yes, I did manage to get into Angela's
cunt – lots, even later that night. It was
just that she wanted someone who was comfortable doing her in the ass first. Her little dance was how she qualified her
dates. I was glad I'd finally passed the
test.
She
didn't know it at the time, but I'm not really into ass fucking. I did give it to her in the ass on a regular
basis, but that's because she dug it so much.
I got more ass fucking with her in that few months than in the rest of
my life combined. And she did have a
beautiful ass.
About
the only other way we had sex was with her lying flat on her stomach and me
fucking her pussy from behind. She said
it felt almost as good as doing her in the ass if I put all my weight on her.
I
did manage to try a couple more conventional positions, but if I started
playing, she would roll on to her stomach and stick her ass in the air. She just liked getting it from behind. I could choose the hole. If I picked her ass, she pushed back. If I choose her cunt, she laid down
flat. It was fun either way.
So
what's the point? The moral of this
story is, if something seems to be a paradox, you just don't have enough
information. Keep trying. And what does this have to do with
Tracy? A lot. You'll see.
I don't know about you, but I need a break.
The
bride hath paced into the hall,
Red
as a rose is she;
Nodding
their heads before her goes
The
merry minstrelsy.
The
Wedding-Guest he beat his breast,
Yet
he cannot choose but hear;
And
thus spake on that ancient man,
The
bright-eyed Mariner.
