Susan opened up a new world to me, a world of unbridled sex, uncomplicated by the neurosis of singleness that plagues the dating scene. When I met Susan I was single myself but found myself entangled by a deep desire of sleeping with married women. At first it confused me, feeling shamed by drawing women into an adulterous relationship. But as I discovered more and more married women, I realized that rarely was it I drawing them into a moral quandary, but they opening up, seeking out their own fulfillment and sexual desires.
Admittedly, on a few occasions I have no doubt my own directness and boldness in approaching them tempted them into something they would never have acted out on their own. While Susan planted the seed of the sheer joy of sex with married women, the next few encounters I had strengthened the roots as the plant began to bloom.
DC is the mother load of "loving wives." It is a city of tourists and international expatriates; it is a city of mobility with people coming and going; and a city where everyone is on the make. Soon, I too entered the ranks of seeking out new conquests among the wives of diplomats, political appointees and wannabes.
***
My night with Susan was mind-boggling. She made me feel so turned on by flaunting her married status and freely fulfilling her desires, and mine. After waking me up in the middle of the night with a final blowjob, it was difficult for me to get out of bed and walk her home. Fortunately, it was only two blocks away. I walked back to my apartment dazed and confused. It was two o'clock in the morning and I definitely needed sleep. Fortunately, my internal dialogue with myself about feeling wrong by being so turned on by having sex with a married woman petered out by the time I stripped and crawled back into bed. It was a circular argument going nowhere with questions of innocent victims, unfulfilled desires, the sanctity of marriage, women's rights to sexual freedom all whirling around my head.
I awoke by seven in the morning and decided it was a perfect day for a long bike ride to mark the beginning of my 30th year. After a hardy breakfast I suited up in my bike gear, filled my water bottles, grabbed several energy bars and an apple and headed out the door. It was nine o'clock on a Saturday morning and the traffic was light so I decided to ride across the Potomac and then head down the bike path along the George Washington Parkway towards Mr. Vernon, one of my favorite rides for a relaxing time.
I took the ride slow, stopping a few times to check out the scenery. Once I reached Mt. Vernon I road off to the picnic area in order to watch the many tourists come and go and to eat my apple. Sitting at a table near me was a family, with two young children running around. I didn't have a good view of the woman, but just looking at her turned me on; I started to get a hard-on. From what I could tell she wasn't particularly attractive, there was nothing about her that would excite one, yet my cock was pressing against my tight latex shorts, causing quite a bit of discomfort, as I imagined what it would be like licking and sucking on her tits. What the fuck? I thought to myself.
I looked away in time to see a small tour bus pull up and a group getting down. Again, looking at the women with their husbands I found myself with a sizable and very uncomfortable hard-on. In the past, I had been turned-on by married women, but I was turned-on by their looks; if she is good looking being single or married didn't matter. But now, it isn't her looks, it's whether she has a wedding band on or not!
This apparent and dramatic shift in the focus of my desires sparked by my night with Susan was dramatic. Or was it? Was it these married women that turned me on or were they merely triggers reminding me of my amazing night with Susan. Certainly, it was the later. I figured what I needed was an hour with Won, and settled on getting that full-service massage I promised myself yesterday.
After sitting for a while longer I stopped worrying about my moral well-being. I did some stretch exercises and prepared for the ride back to the city. The ride was a perfect opportunity of emptying my mind of any further thoughts of Susan, married women, and even of Won.
Once back across the Potomac I weaved my way through the Saturday afternoon traffic back to my apartment. I hate riding in the city, but on that particular day, it was a welcome distraction, my mind focused on the traffic. Just one block from my apartment a car swerved right in front of me, nearly forcing me into a parked car on the side of the street. Fortunately I had been slowing down and was able to stop before I hit the car.
"Are you fucking crazy?" I yelled, as the driver sped off, unaware or uncaring what they had just done.
I noticed that the car park a few houses beyond mine and I saw a woman jump out and go across the street and enter into an apartment where a moving crew was packing up the contents and piling them into a truck parked on the street. I was half tempted to go knock on her door and berate her for being so careless but decided with the movers around it wasn't the appropriate time.
Instead, I got home, carried my bike into my ground-floor apartment and opted for doing some stretching exercises before jumping into the shower. Once showering, I soaked for a long while, enjoying the hot spray on my soar muscles. As I started to dry myself off I heard the doorbell ring. The doorbell? Nobody ever stops by. It wasn't Susan, was it? I wondered. I wrapped the towel around my waste tightly and walked out to see who was there.
"I'm so sorry! I guess today is my day to abuse you," a good-looking, late-30ish, early-40ish woman said, laughing nervously.
I must have been looking at her with a very confused look. I couldn't place her.
"I beg your par..." I started.
"You don't recognize me? I guess I made my escape earlier quick enough! I am so very sorry, but I'm the one who nearly ran you off the road a little bit ago."
Of course; though she had changed her clothes since I saw her dash from her car an hour earlier.
"I really must apologize! It's just that, well it's just one of those days. One of those weeks, really. I should've stopped. I shouldn't have swerved. I'm just running around, all these last minute things to take care of."
She was talking a mile a minute, rambling on and on. What I could gather was: she was in the process of moving back to Chicago, her husband moved already about two weeks earlier to start his new job, she stayed on with the kids so they could finish the school year and were now with her parents in Ohio somewhere, and she was left to take care of all the packing, deal with the movers, and to say goodbye to all of her friends.
Apparently, she was rushing home to be there when the movers finished packing up the truck. They left 30 minutes earlier with all her belongings, though she was staying one more night at a friend's before driving to Ohio to pick up her two kids before heading over to Chicago.
Somewhere along the way the phone rang, putting an abrupt end to her rambling and finally gaving me a chance to say something.
"Come on in and close the door while I get that."
"I seem to be troubling you too much today. I am so sorry. Maybe I should get going, I do have to finish packing up my personal things and getting the plants loaded up."
She started to go on and on, as I slowly started backing down the hall, indicating I had to get the telephone in sign language. She whispered, "I'm sorry" as I picked up the phone. She sure did apologize a lot.
As I suspected, telemarketers for one of the useless long distance telephone companies. I just hung up.
"By the way, I'm Duncan."
"Oh yes, I'm sorry, I never even introduced myself. I'm Lynn. I guess I should get going. I am sorry for earlier. I would have brought you some cookies or something as a peace offering, but, well, no kitchen." Though she was saying she was going, she stood there looking around the apartment.
"You have some interesting objects. Did you collect them yourself? What is this?"
I realized I was still in my towel and should have stepped into my room for a second to change, but somewhere, something clicked and I decided to ignore my dress for the moment. Not only was she married; she was actually quite an attractive woman. Her wavy auburn hair flowed down to her shoulders, framing her long face and high cheekbones. Most alluring was her long neck. Regretfully, she was wearing a t-shirt under a frock; not a particularly sexy way of dressing, and no hint of cleavage. From what I could gather though she did have nice sized breasts and a thin body.
"In the Smithsonian they call that a 'Dogon ritual ladder,' used for performing animistic rites. However, I call it a step-ladder for climbing up onto the roof."
