Authors Note: This is a series of stories about an affair between Gary, a former executive and Maribeth, a ph.D working for the Veterans Administration. This relationship has been honest and open from the very beginning, and I am in the process of chronicling the events that have happened between us.
Very early on I had told Maribeth about two prior affairs I had, and she expressed an interest in sharing my experiences with these women. We came to call these discussions "Story Time." Sometimes the stories were things that actually happened with me and Jennifer or Karen, or some other women that over time had shared my bed. Sometimes they were stories that these ladies shared with me about other sexual experiences they had. In any event, they proved to be turn-on for both of us.
As Maribeth slipped between the sheets I could feel her warm naked body snuggle up to my back. Her soft breasts pressed against me and I felt her small hand find and squeeze my shoulder. "Hi babe," she whispered in my ear. "Mmmm," I responded, luxuriating in the the soft feminine touch of her body against mine.
Exactly how we ended up naked together in the Hyatt Anatole Hotel in Dallas on this November evening in 1997 is told in the as yet unwritten story entitled "Reunion."
"Remember what we talked about?" I heard her ask. "I remember a lot of things, lIttle one, what specifically do you have in mind?", I replied. She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "You know.....story time."
In the last several months since Maribeth and I had begun a clandestine affair, we have been open with each other about our previous relationships. So we had begun to tell stories about the times we had had relations with other people. Often these narratives went long into the evening, what with answering questions, and periodically acting out some of the scenes we were describing.
Occasionally Story Time, which involved real people, would end up becoming embellished in mutual fantasies, but it really didn't seem to matter, since both Maribeth and I appeared to share a mutual streak of voyeurism.
Maribeth particularly, seemed interested in tapping my memories, since she said my encounters seemed so much more lustful and exotic than she believed her's to be. I'm not sure I agreed, but it was clear that on this night she was settling in, ready to be the good audience.
I rolled over and taking her in my arms, she snuggled up and put her head on my shoulder. When it was my turn to be storyteller this was the position we usually adopted. My right arm was immobilized by the weight of her body but I could caress her back, my left hand was free to caress her face, hair, Neck and, of course, breasts. Maribeth's bare leg draped over mine and I could feel the heat of her pussy as it pressed against my hip.
"So, my curious little minx, what do you desire to hear about tonight?" Looking up she responded; "You we're going to tell me about Karen." Well, I had already told her a few things about Karen. She knew that Karen and I had an affair that lasted almost four years in the mid '80s, but now she wanted to learn more, and so I began.
Karen and I had known each other for years before we became lovers. When I first met her she was an HR manager in the company I worked for, but soon thereafter she left to start her own consulting practice and we lost touch for several years until I got involved in business development, and we used her company as a consultant.
Karen was a useful asset when we were evaluating prospective acquisition candidates, particularly when it came to those sticky questions about what we would be proposing for the company's senior management. Would they still have jobs and responsibilities or would they be bought out? Since many of these discussions were extremely sensitive and very secret we usually did not use our own HR people until later in the process.
Maribeth pressed her breast more firmly against my hand and said, "She sounds like she was very capable." I agreed and said it was interesting that, when I looked back on all of the women in my life that trait was one thing they all had in common. I guess I'm attracted to strong, independent women and I would like to think that I filled a void that I sensed so many of them had.
"What do you think that was?" the soft voice in my ear asked.
I replied that I wasn't exactly sure there was a short answer to her question, but if she would let me ramble a bit, perhaps she might be helpful in assisting me in finding the right words.
Maribeth's eyes looked up and seemed to gave me a silent accent that she'd help if she could but, not really knowing where I was going, there was nothing more she could say.
As promised, I began hesitantly. I said I thought that for women to be successful in professional careers that they had to acquire some behaviors that I didn't think came naturally, at least not as naturally as it did for most men. Aggressiveness and non-emotional involvement were the two aspects I had in mind as examples of what I meant.
Since Maribeth herself had climbed to the upper echelon of the VA medical staff, I could see that, at least so far, she was affirming this statement, since I heard her mumble, "Yeah, you work twice as hard to get half the credit."
Satisfied that I had not yet stepped on the proverbial rake, I cautiously continued. I said I thought that in achieving and maintaining their professional status, that somewhere along the line the delicate balance that nature built into each of us got a little out of kilter for some of these women. The emotions and self image that make every woman feel secure in their inherent femininity seemed to be crying out for affirmation.
In the bedroom, these women seemed to be saying that "I want to reaffirm who I really am as female, and while I want to give myself to you, don't let me forget that you have the ability to take me if you want."
At this juncture, I admit that I was at a loss of exactly how to follow up this last comment, so I glanced down to seek some helpful guidence, only to become aware that tears were flowing down Maribeth's cheek. I wiped them as best I could with my fingers and tipped her chin so we were eye to eye. "Did I say something wrong?" I asked.
Maribeth whispered, "No....nothing wrong," and after a long pause she said, "you're right.....damn you, you're right."
We cuddled for a long time in silence. I certainly didn't know what to say and it appeared that Maribeth didn't either, but finally she started to speak; "I will tell you from my own experience that most men don't know how to handle us. Either they're so 'macho' that we never have a chance to feel feminine, or they're so wimpy that we somehow have to fulfill their part as well as ours." "What you said was so true; let us know how beautiful and feminine we are in your eyes, but we don't want to be in control. Take us gently......but please take us."
In her own way Maribeth was confirming the thoughts that I was having so much trouble wrapping words around. I knew as a man, I have a sexual attraction to women, but I'm acutely aware that I also have responsibilities for their protection and their happiness. I honestly believe that the union of these feelings is what defines 'masculinity'.
So in the end, enwrapped in Maribeth's embrace, I concluded that what I provided to these women was simply that. A masculine aura within which their femininity could blossom. Ying and yang; opposed but unified, the permission to be who they were born to be.
After a moment, I commented that our discussion had led pretty far afield since I was supposed to be telling Maribeth about Karen and not my philosophical ramblings about men and professional women in the bedroom.
At this, she reached up and put her finger on my lips as to cut off my words. "In no way did you go far afield," she said. "Actually, I think you hit the bullseye, and now I know how you are so attractive to people like Karen and me," "oh no, you're not far afield at all."
Since Karen was now again the subject of Story Time, I proceeded to describe her. Like Jennifer she wore glasses but unlike her, she clipped her blonde hair short. Physically she and Maribeth were virtual twins. Same figure, same height, weight and skin color. The biggest difference was that Karen had big dimples and slightly buck teeth. The teeth especially bothered her but she was deathly afraid of dental work so never tried to have them fixed. For my part, I thought they looked cute.
At the time we became lovers, Karen was married but separated from her second husband Steve. Yeah I know Jennifer (another lady I had an affair with earlier) also had a husband named Steve, but this was just a coincidence. Karen also had a son, Kevin who was a freshman at Cornell.
As I said, Karen and I had worked together off and on for years and even had quite a few dinners together. We always seemed to be comfortable in each other's company and over time we gradually opened up to each other both personal and professional things that you normally wouldn't share.
As I said, there were several instances, especially in the mid-80's when Karen would actually be working for me on various projects and I would be lying if I said that after some late night dinners and drinks the thought of asking her to join me in my room hadn't occurred to me. Indeed it had, lots of times. I found her incredibly attractive. However, I had made myself a promise years before, to never play in my own sandbox. Even though Karen was technically a consultant and not an employee, while I was supervising her I considered her covered by my personal covenant.
Years later, Karen confessed that there had been several times during that period, that had I given the slightest inkling that I was harboring such thoughts she would have torn my clothes off right there. Twice, she admitted that she herself was thinking about how she could seduce me into her bed. The offer was on her lips but went unsaid. Both times she also confessed she took out her sexual frustration with her trusty vibrator. Apparently she also called me some bad names.
