first love

If Only For One Night…

September, 2002.  I don’t recall ever being as focused and productive in my life. I took on the challenges of each new day like a badass mercenary. I was unstoppable. It did not matter what came up at work or at home, I was up for it. The way I saw it, each new day brought me closer to the big day.

The day Courtney and I would cross our own boundaries into our magical place of refuge…each other.

The anticipation was killing me.  I found myself answering my work phone on the first ring in hopes of hearing his voice…of knowing the specifics of the plan. I got my wish a few days before the big day…he called with details.

“We have a suite at the Riverfront Marriott on Monday the 23rd.  I will arrive early in the day for meetings.  You come over when you can.  There will be an envelope for you at the front desk.” he paused, “but get there as soon as you can, I want as much time as I can have with you.”

I was speechless.  It was happening.  It was really happening….I had no reservations about crossing the threshold of infidelity.  I’d already darkened the door to the other side many times over with Greg at work.  But this was Courtney.  This was different…this was the love of my life.  I didn’t know if I could I ever walk away from him again.

“Hello?  Tess are you there?” he asked

I quickly responded, “Yes!  Yes I am here.  Just thinking.  Taking it all in…that’s all.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked.

“No” I replied.  “Not at all.  I can’t wait to see you.  I do worry that I may not be able to walk away again.”

“Tessa, we will be fine.  We can handle this.  If it gets too much, I will be the one to stop it before it goes there. I’ve got us. Okay?”

That made me feel better.  I’d always been the one to shut it down.  I’d been the one to walk away.  I felt safe knowing he would take care of us…that I didn’t have to.

I’d been planning my fake out-of-town meeting for a week  before my husband took notice.  I told him over dinner one night and then casually brought it up again a few days later.  He seemed uninterested and asked if he needed to pick up our son. As I was about to answer, he said, “So you’ll be gone on the 23rd? Overnight?”

“Yes.  Remember?  I told you last week.  There’s a training in Savannah on Tuesday, I will have to go down there on Monday evening.”

He looked irritated, “That’s not going to work, Tess.  Remember, I have my safety conference in Boulder that week. Someone needs to be here for Nick.  Your parents hate driving on this side of town, so you need to stay. I am not cancelling my plane reservation last minute. Maybe you can do the training another time.”

I felt like I’d be punched in the gut.  All of the air was sucked out of my balloon. I nodded in agreement and made my way to the kitchen to wash the dishes when it hit me.  He will be gone for a week…in Colorado…halfway across the US.  I can still see Courtney.  I thought further…I will have Nick stay with his friend overnight and all will be as planned.  Hot Damn, Van Damme!  You can’t keep a good girl down.

The next day, when I spoke to Courtney, I told him about the near miss.  He chuckled, “we should cancel the hotel reservation and I should just come over to  your house.”

We were both silent as we pondered the scenario.  I laughed…then he laughed…then we were silent.  And then I said, “Sure. You should come over.”

And it was settled.  We decided to take it there…yes….there.  Nothing like peppering in more spice to an already volatile mixture.  I felt it was safe…John was flying out on Sunday morning and I would have verification he arrived long before Monday evening.  Courtney could park his car in the garage where it wouldn’t be seen.  We could actually “play house” in my house, doing all of the naughty things one should do at their domicile.

Monday arrived and I was calm.  Very calm.  I arranged for Nick to stay over at his friend’s house and made my way home from work.  Courtney was planning to come over around 8:00, when it was beginning to get dark, but not so late it would alert any of my curious neighbors.  I opened the garage about 7:50 and he arrived at 8:00 exactly.  I stood in the doorway to the kitchen as he got out of his car.

“So this is what coming home to you would feel like?” he muttered as he walked up the steps into the house.  He threw his overnight bag on the floor and took my face in his hands.  “A man could get used to this, you know?” and he overtook me with a kiss that made me stumble in my stance.

I took him on a tour of the house and we ended back in the kitchen, where I’d made us some appetizers to nosh on.  He made us both a drink and we stood there…staring at each other for the longest time.

“Are you sure about this, Tess?” he asked.  I nodded.  “Yes”

And with that affirmation, he pushed me up against the wall, pinning me with his body, unbuttoning my blouse, exposing my red lacy bra. Within seconds, my shirt was off…his shirt was off. Then my skirt.  His pants.  We stood there and admired each other.  I dropped to my knees and took him deep in my mouth.  His head fell back and he let out a loud groan.  He grasped my hair in his hands and pushed me into his body.

“My god you are amazing” he whispered as I continued to take him deep in my throat.  My knees were sore from the cold floor below and I didn’t care.  I wanted nothing more than to be with him…in that moment. I wanted him to feel immense pleasure.  After a few minutes he pulled me up to my feet and walked me into the bedroom.

He carefully guided me to the bed, opening my legs with his.  Softly kissing my breasts down to my navel and then to my sweet spot.  He held my legs open onto his shoulders as he made me cum over and over.  I had not had orgasms like that in years and I began losing my voice from screaming so loudly.  He rolled me over onto my stomach where he traced my spine with his tongue.  Over and over.  I almost came unglued.  It was beyond sensual and I was lost in him again.  It was like it was before, only better, more intense, more mature.

He pulled me up to my knees and pushed himself inside me, taking my breath away just as he did the first time we were together.  He filled me.  All of me.  We fell into a rhythm as we made love on my bed.  We fucked for hours in every way possible, making up for our eight year hiatus. In between orgasms we talked and spooned and dozed off.  He stroked my hair and told me about his life.  About his kids.  About his job.  I did the same.  Neither of us were miserable in our ascribed paths, but neither of us were really happy. .

We watched the sun rise that morning, as we did on our first night.   I made us a cup of coffee and we drank it, tangled up together in bed.  We took a shower and got ready for work.  I could barely walk and I was exhausted…but I was fulfilled.  Complete in a way that I’d not been in years…eight years to be exact.

I watched him leave from my driveway with a sense of longing.  I wished we could have made a life together, but maybe this is how it is supposed to be…maybe some things are too good, too intense. They burn at too high of a temperature.  Maybe this was the only way “we” could be “us”.

I’d not paid any attention to his CD.  Our evening was so incredible, that I was lost in him and had no recollection of the songs he’d put together for us.  I took it out of the stereo and popped into the car for my drive to work.  And as I pulled out of the driveway, “If Only for One Night” came on.

It was apparent that he finally understood what I’d figured out eight years before…we could never get it together to be together, but we would never be over.  Even if it were just one night at a time…with eight years in between…that was enough.

It was enough. If only for one night…

one-night

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

Suspended by Time and Space…

I apologize for my long absence.  I’ve been held captive.  Against my will (in a way even I don’t like).  Responsibility has had her long claws in me and I’ve not been able to break free for some time.  But with the hustle and bustle of the holiday season behind me, I have managed to escape to share more of my tawdry tales with you.

A couple of posts back I wrote about the first time I fell in love.  His name was Courtney and we had an incredibly hot, tumultuous relationship that lasted for almost a year. We loved fiercely.  We lived together. We broke up.  We got back together.  Repeat.  Over and over again.  After months apart, I decided another reconciliation was too much for my heart to handle.  But he called me one evening in December and I agreed to see him one last time.  It was Christmas Eve, 1994, and we planned to have lunch at one of our favorite restaurants. Since it had been months since we’d seen each other, I wanted to look especially hot for our date.  I wore a tight red sweater with a plunging neckline, a black pencil skirt with black thigh high tights and boots. I simply “forgot” to wear panties. My hair was long and wild.  I walked into the cafe and our eyes met.  That man always made me smile.  He hugged me and I felt whole again.  I knew we wouldn’t work…we had tried so many times before and failed, but it felt so good to be back in his arms.  Neither of us ate much, as we were captivated by each other’s presence.

After lunch, Courtney took me on a drive in his new Land Rover.  We visited a secluded park by the river.  It was empty, as most people were home for Christmas Eve.  Without words, without prompting, we both got out of the front and moved to the backseat.  He hiked up my skirt and opened my legs, revealing my lack of panties.  He grinned as he pulled my hips towards his mouth.  Almost instantly, he made me cum and I longed to have him inside me.  He pulled me on top of him and I straddled his hard cock as we gazed into each other’s eyes.  He brushed the hair back from my face and said, “I have missed you so much.  Let’s try this again.  I want you to move back in with me.  We will make it work this time.”

I looked into his eyes as he pushed himself deeper inside me. I wanted to say yes.  I wanted to be with him, but I knew we would fall apart again. I nuzzled in his neck and whispered, “I want nothing more, Courtney, but this will be our last time together.  I cannot go back.  We aren’t meant to be long-term.  We both know it.”

His eyes seemed to well-up for a moment as we continued to make love.  He knew I was right. We had an amazing afternoon together and soon it was time for me to go.  I had a date later that night and needed to get ready.  The guy was a smart, but boring, safe choice that I later married.  I felt sick as Courtney and I said our goodbyes, but I pulled it together and dressed for my date, all the while, thinking of the steamy afternoon.

As I mentioned, I married the man I saw later than night.  We never had the passion I shared with Courtney, but he was stable and easy to manage.  I grew bored early in the relationship, but focused my frustrations, putting more time into my career and then into being a mother.  I managed to stay on the straight and narrow for several years until a handsome co-worker lured me to the dark side.  Once I crossed that threshold, there was no going back.

One fall afternoon in 2002, I ran into Courtney’s mother at the hospital.  She was a nurse and I was there to see a patient for work.  We hugged and reminisced about days past.  She told me Courtney had finished school and was managing a region of dialysis clinics.  She said he was married with two daughters.  I smiled.  I was happy for him.  It sounded like he had found happiness. I told her to tell him, “hello” for me next time she talked with him, and we parted ways.

The next morning I received a call at work.  It was him.

“Hey Tessa, it’s me.” he said.  I knew his voice immediately.

“Courtney!  It’s so good to hear your voice.  How are you?” I replied

“I am better now that I know where you are.  I am coming to see you.  What are your lunch plans on Thursday?”

I felt a nervous tinge in my stomach…he always caused me to have butterflies.

“I’m, uh….free.  And you know I’m married, Courtney” I said.  Thinking back to our last lunch, I knew where things could go.

“Of course I know you’re married. It’s lunch, Tess.  Between good friends.” he assured me that it would just be lunch.  Nothing else.

“Okay.  Do you want me to meet you at the cafe?” I asked.

“No, I will pick you up at work, around noon.” he said.

“Okay, here’s the address.  It’s 21…” and he interrupted me…”I talked to my mother and then I called you…I do know where you are, Tess.  I will be there on Thursday. Can’t wait to see you!”

I was a ball of nerves for the rest of the day.  It was Tuesday.  I only had two days to prepare.  Thursday arrived and I got to work earlier than I’d ever been. I was so nervous.  So excited.  So curious to see how he looked.  Eager to breathe in his cologne.  I’d dressed to impress and paid careful attention to my hair and makeup.  I wanted to look good for him.  I wore a dark chocolate brown sweater that showed my form, with a sexy (but work appropriate) skirt and heels.  My hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail.  I looked professional and sexy.

I was completely distracted by his impending arrival. As the morning dragged on, my eyes were on the clock and then the door. Each time the door opened, I looked up from what I was doing to see if it was him, feeling disappointed when it was someone else.  At 11:45, I heard the door open and I looked up to see him walking in.

My heart stopped.  He was even more handsome than I’d remembered.  Tall.  Lean. Impeccably dressed.  He swaggered in with purpose, wearing a camel colored leather topcoat, a crisply ironed shirt and slacks.  He had grown a goatee and his thick hair was cropped short.  The receptionist was giddy as she greeted him.  She was smitten with his dashing looks and charm. She directed him to my office and before I knew it, we were locked in an embrace.  The embrace of an old friend, the familiarity of an old lover, the sensuality of a love suspended by time and space.

“You are beautiful, Tess.  Just stunning.  Motherhood agrees with you.” he said.  “You haven’t aged at all, you look amazing.”

I pulled back from him and gazed into his magical eyes.  “You look great, too.  So handsome and professional.  It is so good to see you.”

“Are you ready for lunch?” he asked, extending his hand to me.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, taking his strong hand in mine and following him out of the building.  He guided me to his car, a shiny black Porsche.

“You finally got your dream car!” I said, as he put me in the passenger seat.

“Yes, I did. And I love it! It took a long time to make it happen, but some things are worth the wait, you know?” he grinned.

We drove in silence to the cafe.  I was secretly hoping he would turn off on the road to that deserted park and that lunch would be “funch” instead.  But, as promised, we went to lunch. I could barely eat a bite, I was so excited to be with him.  He didn’t eat much of his meal either.  Mostly, we talked about what had happened in our lives for the last eight years.  He was in a convenient marriage, just like me.  He had two girls.  I had one son.  We compared notes on our careers and the conversation lagged.

He put his hand on mine, “I think of you every day. Every single day. I have missed you, Tess.”

“I think of you a lot too, Courtney.  But we both have commitments now and things are different.” I said. (I hated saying it, but I at least wanted to try to appear responsible and in control of myself)

“I know.  You are right.  I just wish we’d tried one more time.”

“Well, we didn’t.  And here we are.” Once again, I tried to stay on the right path.

“Here. We. Are.” he said, with a sly grin.  “I have to see you more often.  Even if it’s just for lunch. You are a part of me and I need to have you in my life.”

“Okay.  How do we do this?” I asked.  “How do we see each other, but keep a safe distance?”

“We don’t.  There’s no need for distance, Tess. We know where we are in our lives.  We can do this. We set our own rules and our own boundaries and agree to respect them.  What do you think…can we see each other sometime?”

I lost myself in his gaze and before I could stop myself, I nodded and said,  “Yes we can.”

He drove me back to the nursing center and walked me to my office.  Kissing me on the forehead, he whispered, “I will be back in 2 weeks.  Come up with a reason to be gone overnight…a meeting…a conference…something.  I will be in touch soon.”

And he walked out.

I was weak in the knees as I collapsed into the chair behind my desk, letting out a long sultry sigh.  Immediately, I fumbled through my calendar in anticipation of our reconciliation.  Which day would work best?  When will he call to let me know?  How will I manage an overnight?  My mind was going a hundred miles a minute when my office phone rang, bringing me back to reality.

“Hello, this is Tess.  How may I help you?” I answered.

“Make plans for the 22nd/23rd.  I will call you again soon,” he said. “It was great seeing you today.  Until next time, baby.”

As I put the phone down, I turned to that page in my calendar and circled the dates…grinning to myself.  It was going to happen.

(To be continued) 

the-date

(Photo credit, Pinterest)

The 22 Year Old Virgin

tangled

Twenty-two.  Not 40.  But had I not intervened, he may have waited until he was forty.  I did my duty and rescued him from such a fate.

It was unseasonably cold that winter.  We’d actually had a smattering of snow, which is unusual in the deep South.  The roads were icy and I was sequestered at home…with my parents.  So the weekend after the winter storm, I was more than ready to get out and heat things up a bit.  My cousin invited me to visit him for a decadent weekend.  He was in his junior year of college at the University of South Carolina and there was always a party going on.  He had a wide variety of friends.  Men/women, gay/straight/bi, wild as hell and super nerdy.  He was a social butterfly who enjoyed them all.

I loved visiting him.  He always had a plan, an agenda, of what we would do for fun.  He was a small town boy with big city tastes.  He loved to live on the edge.  And I walked that ledge on the edge with him.  We started the weekend by going to a few parties on campus.  We both had a good time, but it wasn’t at the level of our typical shenanigans.  We were infamous for doing some crazy shit, like tip-toeing out of someone’s bedroom before their lover got home.  In fact, he was the same cousin who had taken my to the beach, where I had my first three-way.  Our stories were scandalous and I was slightly disappointed that the weekend began so tame.

Saturday was full of shopping, noshing on eclectic food and drinking.  I spent a copious amount of money on a sexy black cashmere sweater.  It was the perfect color for my milky complexion and I wore it with a micro-mini Pucci-print miniskirt and black thigh-high boots.  I was fierce.  We went to a few 18+ nightclubs, but nothing kept our attention.  It looked like the night was a wash, when we happened upon a party on the Horseshoe.  My cousin recognized one of his classmates, Tom.

Tom was a finance major, who was graduating that year and planned to continue on and get his MBA.  He wanted to intern with Barclay’s in London and eventually open his own consulting firm.  The man was smart, articulate and incredibly sexy.  Tall.  Dark.  Handsome. (And his feet were HUGE..just sayin’).  But he was a nerdy mess when it came to chatting up a girl. He could talk about the world of finance and currency exchanges, but flirty banter made him a blubbering mess.

And that’s when my agenda changed.  I had to have him. I was attracted to Tom in a different way.  He had this charm and innocence about him.  He was successful and if I am being real with you guys…he was a Kennedy.  Not related to the royals, but he had an air of aristocracy that made him seem like he was one of them.  I could tell there was a bad boy lurking  beneath the surface.  And it was my duty as an American citizen to find that beast and bring it out…you know the whole, “not what your country can do for you, but what YOU can “do” for your country” thing.  I took that seriously.

I sat next to him at the party and engaged him in conversation about European currency.  This was before the Euro and he had a vast knowledge on the subject.  My knowledge was basic, but enough to impress him that I had an interest (he seemed to pick up that I had a little bit of nerd lurking beneath my bad girl persona).  We talked for hours.  He was starting to become comfortable and sat a bit closer to me on the couch.

I peered into his big brown eyes, hoping to lure a kiss out of him, but he was still very nervous.  I realized that this project was going to take some time.  We parted ways that night with a long hug and quick peck on the cheek.  And that was okay.  It gave me something to do the next weekend.

We talked every day that week.  I could tell he was smitten with me.  We planned to meet again on Friday afternoon.  Both of us were finished with classes by 2:00 and it was less than an hour away.  I told my cousin I was coming up again for the weekend and he was happy to have me there again.  I told him not to plan much, as I was going to focus on Tom.  He understood, as he’d met someone new and was busy planning their agenda together.

Friday arrived and I showed up at his dorm in that sexy cashmere sweater and my best “good butt” jeans. He was visibly nervous, but I got him talking about something in his comfort zone and he began to relax.  We decided to try a new restaurant in the Vista.  We had an amazing meal and he was such the gentleman.  Honestly, it was a perfect date.  Part of me felt guilty for having such tawdry plans for him later.  He was such a good guy.

After dinner we stopped in at a few parties and talked with some of his friends.  He seemed more and more relaxed as the night went on.  We finally made it back to his dorm (his roommate was away for the weekend) around 11:30 that night.  We sat on his bed and talked some more.  Once again, I looked into his eyes, hopeful that he would kiss me, but not expecting him to make the first move.

He brushed the hair from my face.  I could feel his hand shaking as he touched my face and pulled me towards him.  Despite his nervousness, the kiss was perfect.  And it went like a wildfire from there.  We were locked in a fit of passion.  The kissing was sensual and erotic.  I began to wonder why he was so unsure of himself.  He certainly seemed like he knew how to kiss a girl.

He pulled me onto his lap as his big strong hands massaged my back.  My black sweater had a plunging neckline and I felt like my breasts would spill out from how he passionately touched me.  I could feel his hardness through my moist jeans and I was eager to see him fully naked.  To take him all in and study his form.  Soon, I removed his shirt and he took off my sweater.  His hands trembled as he unfastened my lacy pink bra.  He looked at my bare breasts in awe before clumsily fondling one as he attempted to lick my nipples.  He eventually found his groove and before long, we stood before each other naked.

“I don’t know how to tell you this” he whispered nervously.  “I’m still a virgin.”

I already knew, but didn’t let on.  “You are?” I asked

“Yes.  Someone broke my heart my last year of high school and I’ve not had the nerve to ask anyone out here at college.  I have buried myself in studies and just put it out of my mind.  But I am ready.”

He walked towards me, held my face with both hands, looked into my eyes and said, “I want you.”

Let’s just pause for a minute and reflect, shall we?  1.  This man is gorgeous.  2.  He is a virgin.  3.  He wants me…ME.  4.  And he’s a Kennedy.  

I gently kissed his mouth and dropped to my knees, taking him into my mouth.  He was rock hard and almost lost his balance.  I asked him to sit down on the bed as I resumed my position.  I realized that he’d never experienced anything like this before.  I knew he may orgasm quickly, so I slowed my pace, allowing him to enjoy each and every second of the experience.  He closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.  I didn’t allow him to finish, because I wanted him to direct how he wanted his first time to go.

He pulled me on top of him, as he fumbled with a condom.  I politely took it from him and had it on in less than a minute, with expert skill.  He wanted me on top.  I straddled him and slowly guided him inside me as he pulled my hips onto his.  He watched me ride his cock.  He looked into my eyes and then watched every move of my body on his, in amazement.

He came quickly and was most apologetic.  I assured him that it was okay.  He was ready to go again soon and we fucked all night long.  Him on top. Me on top again.  Him from behind.  More oral.  Showering together.  We finally went to sleep around 4:00 am and woke up and fucked more at 7:00 am.  We stayed in bed the entire day.  Exploring.  Feasting on each other.  Sharing our desires.  It was one of the best weekends of my life.

It rained for most of the weekend and when weren’t worshipping each other, we were intertwined in the sheets, watching it rain from his large dorm window.  We never got dressed or went out…We ordered pizza on Saturday and  Sunday.  We didn’t want to miss a moment together.  But eventually we had to untangle ourselves and get back to reality.

I left that evening a bit confused.  I’d been with virgins before and I enjoyed the role as a teacher. But this felt different.  I really liked this man.  He was everything I wanted in a boyfriend and the sex was amazing.  I remained in deep thought as I drove home in the rain.  The moment I arrived home, the phone rang.  It was him.  He wanted to make sure I made it safely.

We talked for hours that night and I think that was the first time I fell in love.  We stayed together as a blissfully happy couple until the summer.  He landed that internship at Barclays and headed out for a summer in London.  We tried to stay together despite the distance, but I was ready to move on.  I was not ready to find the One.  He could have certainly been the One.  But I was young and adventurous and we both decided to see other people.

Eleven years later, I was on a beach near Charleston, SC.  I heard someone call out “Tom?  Tom Kennedy? Is that you?  I haven’t seen you since USC!”  I looked up and saw Tom talking with the man who had called his name.  He was 20 feet away from where I was sitting with my family.  OMG.  He was still gorgeous.  He was married and had two beautiful children.  I was there with my husband and son.  I decided not to say anything and I made an excuse for us to change locations, because it would have been too much to see him again.

I prefer to remember him as he was during that rainy weekend in the winter of 1991.

 

 

(Photo, Pinterest)