As this story begins:
I'm the male half of the married couple Dirk and Gretchen Van Vleet. We're both 42, tall, trim, blond, and blue-eyed, not surprising given that we both have Dutch heritage. I don't know how our Indian and African-American friends would view us but on average our Caucasian friends would probably view us both as an 8 on an attractiveness scale of 1-10.
There are three Van Vleet children. There are two Van Vleet male children, Jurgen (it would be Jürgen in the Netherlands) 18 and Finn 14, and a female child, Tess 16. All are tall, blond, and blue-eyed. They are the joys of my life, and I do believe Gretchen's too.
Our marriage was, for lack of a better word, "comfortable." We got along well, rarely fought, had similar politics, and similar child-rearing ideas and resolve. We believed that you set rules that are always enforced unless there is a really good reason for an exception, and that you give a child all the love, attention, and support that you can while not in any way coddling them. I believe that has worked in the case of the Van Vleet children since they are all well-adjusted, kind yet resolute, and ambitious.
Gretchen is a successful commercial real estate agent and I am the engineering manager of quality control at what was a startup when I began working for it but is now a large multi-national corporation. We don't have any money issues and live in a nice house in a Northern Virginia suburb of Washington, D. C.
Gretchen and my sex life -- or at least mine -- was also comfortable. We had what I considered good quality sex on average twice a week, more on vacation or if the kids were out of the house for an extended period of time. It was much more love-making than fucking, unlike my sex life before I met Gretchen.
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I was a major pussyhound before I met Gretchen when we were both twenty two; we married only eighteen months after we met. Before Gretchen I had had only one relationship that lasted more than a month or two, and that was with Gina Martinelli when I was twenty years old and between my sophomore and junior years of college.
Gina could not be more different than Gretchen. Gina is a little Italian descent firecracker, 100 pounds soaking wet. I'm more than a foot taller than she is, and her olive complexion makes a stark contrast to my alabaster skin. At the time Gina was a twenty nine year old recent divorcee with two little kids. She was as volatile as Gretchen and I are calm.
Gina and I met when I bumped into her car in a mall parking lot the day after my last final exam. It's a miracle that we ever got together because she was so hot that I had damaged her car that if her kids weren't with her I think that she would have hit me with a tire iron. By giving her all of my contact information and driving with her to a repair shop and telling the shop that I was responsible for the repairs, and then driving her and her kids home, she calmed down.
I couldn't help staring at her exquisite thighs protruding from her short skirt when I drove her home, and she obviously noticed and got a big grin on her face. Exactly how we clicked and how one thing led to another I can't say for sure, but within three days after I plowed into her car we were fucking like minks, and within two weeks I had moved into her small house for the summer, telling my parents that I got a better summer job in another location.
While Gina was cute, sexy, street-smart, and -- as previously indicated -- volatile, her most outstanding characteristics were passion and sexual intensity. The woman could fuck like no other in my experience, and wanted it all of the time. There was nothing, that wouldn't cause injury or disease, that was off the table; however she liked it best when I doggy-fucked her snug pussy while reciprocating a butt plug or vibrator in her ass with one hand and pinching one of her tiny but highly sensitive nipples with the other. Her orgasms -- and mine in sympathy with hers -- were earth-shattering. If earthquakes they would have been a 9.0 on the Richter Scale.
We actually fucked at least once a day -- most often three times -- during the entire three months of the summer that I lived with her. Even when she had her period (during which she was bitchy but even hornier) we fucked in the shower or outside and never missed a beat. Gina also actually visited me for four weekends over the next two months while I was back at college, leaving her kids with her parents and younger sister, who were only too happy to babysit. We fucked at least six times each weekend that she visited me in college.
Neither Gina nor I ever looked upon our relationship as leading to marriage; it wasn't just the age difference, and the fact that she had two kids, but our personalities didn't actually mesh, and her heritage was important to her and her family. The last weekend that she visited me in college on Sunday night before she left she told me that she had met a rich, older, Italian-descent guy by the name of Vince Allioto who was nuts about her and who her parents approved of (they never would have approved of a big Dutchman marrying her, although neither they nor her sister objected to our relationship because they knew that I treated her and her kids well and I helped Gina recover from her acrimonious divorce). While I was sad, Gina gave me an experience that has never been topped, and probably could never be topped, the hour before she left. She rode me cowgirl, then switched to reverse cowgirl while I was still buried to the hilt in her, and back to cowgirl at least a half dozen times. All the while she had a butt plug up her ass, and when she was cowgirl she was kissing me with an other-worldly zeal, and when she was reverse cowgirl she somehow was able to suck my testicles. My ejaculation and her screaming clamping of her pussy on my cock seemed to last forever, before we both temporarily passed out.
Gina and I fucked so many times during our five month relationship that I do believe that Gretchen and I had been married a year before the number of all of the other fucks I had had in my life with all other partners matched the number of times that Gina and I had fucked.
For whatever reason -- maybe because I felt love for Gretchen rather than just the animal attraction that I had for Gina -- Gretchen and I did little more than missionary, doggy, and once in a while cowgirl, and never with any "toys."
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There was really no reason why I should have been in the lobby of the W hotel in Washington on a Tuesday afternoon in May, but a spur-of-the-moment request from a good customer who was staying there before he left for Europe found me at that location. Imagine my surprise when while I was at the front desk I saw Gretchen exit the elevator arm-in-arm with a brown-hair brown-eyed man about her height and age. Gretchen was too involved with her companion to be looking around. Once I had the front desk call up to my customer's room I surreptitiously observed Gretchen and her friend.
Their parting kiss and look -- and his quick pinch of her bulbous ass -- were passionate. While I'm normally calm I felt almost as volatile as Gina, and it took all of the self-control that I could muster -- and thankfully my customer calling my name as he exited an elevator -- to stop me from kicking the shit out of Gretchen's paramour and then chasing after her and throwing her through a window.
My customer asked me "What's wrong, Dirk? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
"Oh...uh...sorry Jack; I thought that I saw an old nemesis from college that I was never able to get revenge on and it boiled my blood for a couple of seconds; but I just realized that it isn't him, so I'll be my normal calm self in a few more seconds," I replied, trying to smile.
Jack chuckled, we engaged in some small talk, and then we went into the coffee shop to conduct our business. I was able to concentrate on Jack's issue, but when I left to drive back to my office an hour later I almost got into several accidents I was so flustered by what I had witnessed.
