The Sex Entry in General

There was something going on from the minute I met her. This ridiculous electrical thing.
We did the interview thing.

I was low, and certainly didn’t feel attractive. I was coming out of a divorce and retiring from the Navy and completely losing my identity.

And she was way too pretty. In a way I didn’t think I deserved the attention of someone that attractive.

But the flirtation started. For three years it was subtle. Drop off and pick up of my daughter wasn’t just a bump and go.

Conversation lingered much longer than it should have.

Then that late December email. Midst snowstorm. Two calls, twenty plus hours long. And I fell in love with a woman I was already in love with.

New years Eve we danced as if no one was watching. Because for those hours we were the only people on the planet that mattered.

Midnight came and it was time to go. We stood in the parking lot, groping each other. It was so primal, so perfect. I ran my hands up under her jacket and sweater and shirt. I cupped her breast. She ran her hands into my jeans and grabbed my junk.

My cab arrived and we left, her to her home and me to mine.

Two weeks later we spent a weekend together.

We fucking attacked each other. I had never been kissed like that before.

Our sex verged on feral. We couldn’t stop.

The next night was much more tender, slower. And there was crying, because we didn’t know how it was going to work.

Obviously it didn’t work.

Except those few weeks, when she was mine.