To Wendy S

To Wendy S:

I miss you. It has been more than twenty years since I saw you last. Obviously, we were different people then than we are now. I still remember you so well. You were just two years out of Princeton, young and fresh on the world. I was just two years divorced exploring a single life. You worked in a job way below your skill level just to pay the bills until someone discovered you and your singing voice and made you a star! I worked just to make some money and recover from the financial beating a marriage break-up can bring. You were word-processing, I was writing for a now defunct firm; you were assigned to me and that's how we met.

It all started out innocently, just flirting, but soon we were dating; first lunch, then dinner and then bed. You told me - before we went too far, this was in a time even before AIDS had a name, that you had herpes - and I did not know what that really meant! You said we had to refrain from certain activities for fear of spreading the disease to me. But you had passion, as did I. We were naked very soon. Your body was perfect: round small delicious breasts, a small kissable butt, a flat tummy with just a hint of roundness and best of all your cunt was open with a sprinkle of light reddish hair and surely eager.

I was horny all the time then. I was hard and ready before we were half-naked; by now – looking at you, touching you, I was as is often said – like stone! I wanted in you. I wanted to make you come and I wanted to never come. You were going to get the fucking of your life – lust and joy overtook me.

But you stopped me. The herpes! It was dangerous to do IT. We would have to find another way – you knew how. You took my penis in your hands and then guided it into your mouth. You had a talented mouth after all you were a singer. You sucked, you slurped,. My entire penis was bathed by your wonderful mouth. You took me all the way in; then let me almost all the way out. I have never felt so hard; I have rarely felt so good. You kept me on edge. I asked if I could do something for you – you said: "later" - it was my turn now. You kept sucking, licking, nibbling, bathing. Somewhere along the way, I lost my mind. But I did not come, yet. I felt a little guilt; I was getting all the pleasure. Then you kicked into second gear – Oh! What a wondrous shift! I thought all my pleasure sensors had been on overload and then I discovered more pleasure sensors. But I did not come. On and on this wondrous blowjob went.

I think I must have relaxed at some point. My brain stopped all processing of information except for the feeling at the point where my penis met your mouth. It was impossible but it got still better. But I still did not come. Twenty minutes, thirty minutes – Princeton girls don't quit – in those days a "girl" who went to Princeton was special. - a few out of thousands of men – I was writhing in pleasure- you were working you ass off – which I managed to spend a great deal of time fondling. After 40 or so minutes you said, "You have a lot of control." I just grunted – all the while thinking I don't want to ever come. I thought, "What possible position in life could ever be better – a smart, naked, beautiful girl sucking on your dick and every nerve ending in your body reacting and you don't come and she doesn't quit? Let's keep doing this forever."

Finally, you were exhausted. Your jaw was sore, you said. I said: "Stop" – but you were not a quitter, you took me in your hands and in just a minute or two you had me on the verge. I started coming. You put me back in your mouth and sucked and swallowed every drop of energy in my body. You won; I could not outlast you.

I recovered enough to bring you off with my hand. I was afraid to do more, I did not know what this herpes was all about. But you were so responsive to just my hand. Your orgasm was the fodder of porno flicks: the moaning, the heavy breathing, the "yes, yes …" then the twitch. Your body jumping, as if it wanted both to escape my hand and to swallow it simultaneously. The sex without sex - it would later be defined that way by the White House – Wow! I have no other word that would do it justice.

I knew I was in love and in lust. I was truly happy. Then life got in the way. I lost you. I will never know why or how you escaped. We should have had sex forever. We could have had children Life! Love! Everything! Now so much later in my life, I have regrets. You are one of them. This regret is the failure of having done all that could have been done to explore you and us. The old saying is " 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." Sometime that is true. I miss you.