Breathing in Jonge Blues

This is a love story. Although, not in the conventional sense because I have never been a conventional kinda woman.

*

National Organization of Women formed during my teen years. Gloria Steinem went undercover as a Playboy Bunny and Billy Jean King had beaten down the sexual stigma in sports.

I pursued my equality as well. I viewed marriage as the death of my freedom because I saw it in the maternal members of my family. I was not going to follow in their footsteps.

I have been a waitress, a pizza cook, college student, respiratory therapist, sergeant in the army, laundry worker, chambermaid, bartender and secretary. In short, everything BUT a wife and mother.

I have always been an avid reader, and it is books that seduced me into wanting to be a writer. Not just any writer, but create stories in the likeness of Jong or Vonnegut - but I got a late start and I just don't have the talent. So I'll have to check my ego at the door and write in the likeness of me.

I have lived the life I've wanted, working hard to earn my own living, solving my own problems, and satisfying my own desires. Selfish and hedonistic, yes, but I would have neither been a good partner nor a good mother. This is how I arrived alone at my age.

I fell in love, once, at the delayed age of 39 only because I was taught how. He died 5 years later and left a huge void for the first time in my life. Those 5 years are worth telling but not now. This is the story of the years after his death. About getting on with life. If you want a happily-ever-after ending, you're going to be disappointed, because it's bittersweet. -

We are friends. Friends before Red died. Friends because Red's childhood buddy introduced us. Our paths crossed from time to time and I absolutely adore him because he never ceases to make me laugh out loud. (Very good medicine for a depressive).

Primal attraction. I can not intellectualize nor wish it away, no matter what. Not even if the object of my affection is happily married and my only chance to be with him is in a few stolen moments. I have only one thought, I want him.

When I'm in his presence, a tingle snakes down the inside of my thigh, my knees become weak, and the most paralyzing of all...,I CAN'T THINK! My sexual desire for him is so strong it requires all my conscience energy to act on the contrary.

Something has to give and my deepest fear did come true. While in his presence, I'm not capable of concealing my feelings and talking at the same time. The day came when I stood before him, a bumbling idiot, hearing myself speak words that could and would be misunderstood, all the while silently and simultaneously telling myself to "shut up!, but couldn't. I later learned he is a forgiving man.

It is my proposition, my house, my bed, my body, my willingness to conform to his schedule, and it is my pain when he leaves. However, we have that which works for us both. We save ourselves from strange partners and relationship injustices.-

Welcome. Your naked body encarnalizes Michangelo's David and I get wet looking at you. My number one turn on is this, Kiss me, just kiss me. Let me breathe you -- into me.

My clitoris throbs and there is a velvety wetness between my legs. I spread my "wings" and you finger me. Slowly, softly circling my clit waiting for me to hum, a technique quite similar to a crystal goblet when one runs a wet finger around its rim continuously - it sings.

This is just the beginning. With you, I have several levels of orgasms: clit, pussy, butt. You finger all three and I explode into delicious delight. Sex can be wonderfully exciting without genital connection. I hope mature men and women learn to experiment as we have done.

I like how you masturbate me, widening my pussy one finger at a time until you try to fit your fist where it will not go, I'm just too small. However, I like the soreness. I am satisfied for days until I see you again.

Your turn. Men aren't as complicated. Let me suck on your cock until you cum. It is my desire to please you. Here's the jelly. I put it on my mouth, your cock, your balls, and then I let it drip down into your asshole. I get turned on hearing you tell me how good you feel. I get wet and you finger my pussy as I suck on your cock and suck on your balls. I touch your prostate and your dick swells within my mouth. You cum and I swallow. You're the only man with whom I have ever enjoyed much oral sex.

Maybe a poem, a laugh, a smoke, and our time is done. You have a family waiting at home. I hate to see you go, But before you do,...kiss me, JonGe, just kiss me.

Lovers for awhile, friends forever.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO