Janet comes to a better understanding of herself. She is an intelligent woman and a capable professional but unfortunately a certain type of man just sees a tasty piece of meat. As a result she will also come to learn that a hot woman in this modern age can always use a wingman. Thanks for reading this and your comments are always welcome
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The summer wore on without any respite from my sense of guilt and emptiness. I knew that the only way we would be able to put our life back on track was if Tom and I talked things through. So, we got together for several hours each week, sat in our house and chatted about the experiences that had led us to where we were.
Then we fucked and he went back to his condo. I use the term "fucked" because those sessions were more for the purpose of me maintaining my sanity than they were us making love.
After my cherry was popped I was never able to control my raging libido. I had to have some kind of regular release, or I couldn't think straight.
I am sure there is a good psychological and biological reason for why I needed sexual release so often. But frankly I didn't care about reasons as long as I had a regular man to take the pressure off.
I enjoyed casual sex with a lot of different men for the first seven years. Then, for the last 17 years I had one man and one man only. I know that isn't exactly a correct statement since I DID have one slip-up. But in my mind that would never happen again, so I can say with absolute certainty that Tom will be the only man charged with the duty of keeping me sane until death do we part.
Fucking Tom had managed to ensure that I was not actually climbing the walls during our separation. But we both knew that the bouts of sex that were having were probably still too numerous; that is, if we were trying to truly enforce distance. It was just that we were both too weak to stop cold turkey.
So, it was inevitable that when we got together we would end up in bed or on the couch, or the living room floor, or even one time on the table on the patio.
It definitely was not the sort of thing that a man and a woman who are married do. I acted like a crazy person each time we did it; I honestly don't think I was as wild in our earliest days together.
And I wanted him every way I could have him. I could have fucked him for 24 straight hours in every hole during those sessions but he is not as young as he used to be and I didn't want to kill him. Nevertheless the sex was inexplicably hot, almost like an affair.
Tom and I have always had an almost mystic physical attraction to each other. That actually began for me before he even said a word. I was standing next to him in our school's gymnasium. I was not even looking at him.
I was watching my little charges as the career fair droned on. But his mere presence exerted some kind of planetary pull. It was like he was emanating gravity rays that were dragging me into his orbit. And frankly the tingle and flutters he was setting off in my lower belly were embarrassing, since they were actually making me wet.
It had nothing to do with how he looked, or anything about his external self. Our brains are electrical and perhaps that was what was behind the instant physical chemistry. It was like we were resonating on the exact same radio frequency.
Or maybe it was something subliminally biological. Or perhaps it was something mystical; what the Hindus call Kismet. Whatever it was, my subconscious knew right away that he was the only man in the world who I wanted to TOTALLY give myself to.
And one month, two weeks and three days after we agreed to separate I was ready for him to come home to me. That was due to the fact that I had a much deeper understanding of who I was and how I wanted to live the rest of my life.
I honestly felt like I had found myself in the relatively short period since we had been apart. I had spent all summer reading and thinking about what I needed to do and my sessions with Dr. Morningstar had helped me to feel a lot more confident.
I knew that I was not going to complete my voyage to self-discovery without help from other people. And although Tom and I revealed some pretty deep secrets to each other, I thought that I needed to talk to a counselor, preferably a woman.
It was the middle of the summer but the administrative staff at my school was still in the building. So at the end of July I went to visit the Principal.
Sadie Craven was well past retirement age but nobody in the School District had the guts to try to force the old bat to retire. I get along with her pretty well because we both loved teaching and we had an understanding of how serious the responsibility of shaping young minds was.
When I came into her Office he was sitting behind the same desk that she had used to strike terror into the hearts of generations of elementary school kids; and most of the teaching staff.
She allowed one corner of her mouth to slightly twitch, which was as close to smiling as I have ever seen her. The she said in her best old-maid-school-teacher voice, "Janet, what are you doing here? School doesn't start for another month?"
I said, "And good morning to YOU Miss Craven. I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I am trying to get in touch with Mrs. Morningstar and I need her number." Chelsea Morningstar was the District's school psychologist.
Sadie said "I can do better than that" and she dug around in her desk, which was a true relic of the Eisenhower administration and produced a slip of paper.
She dialed her rotary phone and when the person on the other end answered she said with great formality, "Mrs. Morningstar, I have somebody who would like to talk with you" and handed the phone to me. She didn't bother to introduce herself. Everybody knew Sadie Craven's voice.
I nodded my thanks and held the heavy black plastic instrument to my ear. I said, "Chelsea, this is Janet at Roosevelt Elementary can I stop by your place for a minute? Where are you located?"
She gave me an address and I thanked Miss Craven and hopped into the sporty new Mercedes that Tom had just bought me and drove the 15 minutes over to Chelsea's office.
When I got there I was surprised. I had only known Chelsea as the District psychologist. In that respect she was just one of my colleagues. I had never actually considered that she had a successful practice. But when I got there I learned that she was not only successful but obviously thriving.