"All of the Things"

I asked, "Was it the moment you woke up thoroughly satisfied from my skills as a lover?"

She replied with that twinkle, "No, it was when you cooked breakfast. The sex certainly rocked my world, but that was a great omelet."

Once Donna and I got serious, we had some awkward discussions. I can definitely say they were awkward for me. I also feel pretty certain that they were awkward for her as well, we just had different reasons. We talked about previous relationships. I was worried about how many previous lovers partners she'd had and she was worried I'd think she was a slut. I'll explain my reasoning first.

I assumed someone with Donna's looks was very likely to have been more sexually experienced than I was, despite the fact I was older. I wasn't expecting any woman to be a virgin, so it wasn't that she'd had what I assumed to be a lot of sex that was my fear. Someone like Donna could've easily had almost any guy she set her sights on. I wasn't sure what I could possibly offer long term when compared to an endless parade of lovers.

Donna's concern was the opposite. She was afraid I wouldn't think she was serious about me and I'd dismiss her interest as a flighty blonde. It was my first inkling that gorgeous women have a special set of problems. She had set her sights on me and wanted me to let me know of her serious intentions. As it turned out, I'd had more sexual partners (and had lost my virginity earlier) than Donna had, although her first words didn't exactly alleviate my initial concern.

"It's likely I'll have had sexual encounters with some people we may run into. I had a reputation in college."

I was proud that I kept a poker face on, at least I think I did. "What sort or reputation?"

Donna didn't miss a beat. "Blow job queen."

That wasn't what I was expecting. I always felt women gave blow jobs to avoid sex. Donna could have avoided sex based on her looks. Men would be happy just to get a kiss and the promise of another date. At least I would have. I wasn't sure what to say next.

I came up with,"Do you actually like giving blow jobs?"

Accidentally, I had stumbled onto the crux of the matter.

"Oh, hells yeah! The first time I ever gave someone a blow job, I felt like it was the best thing I'd ever done. I wasn't a slut in college. Oh, I slept around a bit. Four guys. None of them turned out to last long. Two were one-night stands and the others lasted about a semester. I gave a lot of blow jobs though. A lot of them. I really have no idea how many.

"I loved getting high, I still do. It makes me feel like I can let myself go. I had limits; I didn't want just any man inside me. I did like sucking cock though. I loved the taste, smell, shape and feel of those things. It's a true story. Marijuana is a gateway drug. It's just that it was my gateway to sucking cock."

Her definition of "slut" was different from my definition. That was something to process. As I understood it, her definition was she didn't think she was a slut if she only had sex with four guys, and the innumerable number of blow jobs that she couldn't remember, did not factor into her definition. For her, a "slut" meant penetration. That insight into a woman's perspective was illuminating.

My college perspective and experience had been very different. A woman who even made out with several people was considered a slut. She was not the kind of person you were supposed to marry, as Dad had reinforced several times while I was growing up. In his view, women who were anything other than dedicated to a singular man after a date and a kiss were tramps. While I didn't share that extreme point of view, I still was shocked by Donna's nuanced perspective.

It was a lot to unpack for me. I'd been the beneficiary of Donna's blow jobs. I always had thought the love she had for my cock had an emotional component, like she was a normal woman that hated giving blow jobs, but she loved doing it for me. Now I learned she just liked giving blow jobs and had done this with previous... partners? Companions? Not sure what the right word is. My cock wasn't magical, she loved them all. Mine wasn't special, but it was to her in those moments. I made my peace with that pretty quickly.

Of all the cocks she could suck, she had chosen mine. She made it clear that my cock was the one she'd spend her time with exclusively. As I saw it, she'd seen the rest and chose the best. That's not exactly how she put it, but I was comfortable with my interpretation, even if I paraphrased comments like, "You're exactly the person I want to grow old with," to get comfortably to my version. It's a guy thing.

One other thing I was worried about, were people she might have had a relationship with from her work place. After all, she was still working among the beautiful people every day. Donna put that fear to rest quickly, "Leon, I've never had sex with someone I've worked with. I make a point of not doing that. I want to be recognized for my ability. If I have sex with someone at work, I'll never know if I'm being rewarded for merit, held back for reasons other than merit, or just the slut of the month. Sex at work brings complications I don't want. So yes, I've had sex with people while working, but never anyone I worked with."

I believed her and was relieved to hear that.

Dad wasn't crazy about Donna initially. "Son, that woman is out of your league. You need a woman like your mother. Your mother was pretty, but wouldn't have been mistaken for a model. The same was true for me, and most importantly is true for you. A woman like Donna will always attract attractive men. Like seeks out like. I love you son, but attractive people have temptations we can't imagine."

That was Dad's way of saying I wasn't in Donna's league in the looks department. I get it, he was trying to help. However if you want something bad enough, you'll rationalize your way to doing the thing you want. What I wanted was Donna. So I pursued the relationship and figured Dad would come around. He did.

It took time, but Dad did warm up to Donna. I'd like to think it was me that influenced him, but I can't honestly say that. It was Donna. She charmed him like she charmed everyone else. Donna had a way of making you feel you were the most important person in the room. I actually had a moment of jealousy when she was interacting with my father.

As our relationship progressed, I did learn a few of her quirks, as she learned about mine. A big one, was that Donna always needed to be in control of her environment, her perfectly organized kitchen should have clued me in a bit earlier than it did. I don't mean she was some sort of dominatrix. She never wanted me tied up and gagged. The opposite of that was true, but more on that in a moment. I also don't mean she was a nag. She was just averse to any situation where things could be taken out of her hands.

I like a certain amount of spontaneity. It's an artist thing. We were definitely proof of the theory of opposites attracting. That may not be entirely right. Donna did have a sense of spontaneity, but it was spontaneity under controlled conditions. I found out quickly she still loved smoking pot on occasion. She even had a bong. Under those conditions when she wanted to unwind, there was a certain amount of frivolity. Very often it was of a sexual nature, but not always. Sometimes we'd just talk about names of our future kids while her head was in my lap and I was petting her wonderful hair.

I had certainly smoked pot as well, as having experimented with a number of drugs. The only one I still used recreationally was hallucinogenic mushrooms. Colors really pop for me under those circumstances. Marijuana never really took with me. I would occasionally smoke with Donna in the beginning, mostly because I didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. More often than not though, I declined. Weed made me sleepy, and I didn't want to poop out on Donna when she was at her most relaxed.

I accepted it was a part of her life; she accepted it wasn't a big part of mine. There was no discomfort when I declined on her part, or any part on mine when she partook in her recreational drug of choice. And yes, she really meant it when she said she loved giving blow jobs when high. I certainly had nothing to complain about. One night, she threw me a new wrinkle. She told me she liked to be tied up. What do you say to that, except "You know you can tell me anything, love."

Donna got a thrill from bondage. Her bed was a four-poster one. It was while she wasn't high she usually wanted to be tied up. She did like being high if she already knew she could trust the person, just after a few experiences. It was that desire to be in control of her surroundings from the beginning. That night she mentioned it, we just made love as we usually did. I didn't bring it up the next morning and neither did she. As far as I knew, she was only trying to titillate me.

But... it wasn't long after that conversation she showed me her restraints, in fact, it was the next evening when we got together. We didn't see each other every night, in those early days. Her job often meant she was covering an event that took place in the evenings. She was giddy when she made the decision to show her paraphernalia to me.

"I have to show you this. I haven't done those with a lot of people Leon, only those I've trusted. I really love it and I so very much trust you. Would you like to tie me up?"

"Donna, are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I have never trusted anyone so completely."

I was a little nervous, never having done anything like that before. I needn't have worried, Donna was a good teacher. She liked to be teased, not used as a fuck toy. Her thrill was not being able to touch back and being dependent on a partner to bring her to orgasm. It was the one time and place she didn't want a cock in her mouth. She couldn't control the situation then. She wanted to be in the position of begging her partner to finally do things so she could orgasm.

Like I said, she had her quirks. I grew immediately to love it, just like most of all the other ones. I may have had more sex partners than she had, but she was much more sexually experienced in many ways than I was. I wasn't threatened by it any more though, I was already trusting the commitment we seemed to share. Plus, I learned a lot that night. Fortunately, I'm a quick study and that experience only got better for both of us as it got repeated several times.

Except for a few moments when Donna relinquished control under a certain set of circumstances, our life was a compromise. She liked things a certain way, I liked things a certain way. The compromise we reached was that I usually did what she wanted. That included my marriage proposal to her. She didn't tell me how to propose, she just overtly and overly hinted at what she wanted.

Not in a public place. Not while I was anything but sober. One drink was too much. Don't surprise her, give her an inkling it would be coming. Oh, don't make the ring expensive. That would be too distracting, and the ring symbolized love, so don't make it gaudy. I was not expected to go down on one knee, unless I really wanted to. You can see that Donna was not completely unreasonable, she gave me a bit of latitude on the knee thing. In the end, I dropped down on one knee in a private place. I'm not bound by tradition, but there are some I really do like. That one is one of those.

That proposal happened nine months after we'd been dating. It was in my apartment. Check. I told her to expect something special. Check. I decorated my place like I would have for a themed party. There were rose petals scattered everywhere, as well as a bottle of unopened champagne prominently featured in the center of the living room. I like the classics, after all, what is marriage if not one of the classics? The only twist I added was blindfolding Donna before she walked in. I know she knew what was coming; I also knew she liked being blindfolded.

She said, "Yes," before I could even show her the inexpensive ring I got from a gumball machine. Check and mate, my mate for the rest of our lives.

The wedding was a small affair. As a local celebrity, it could have been a big deal in local media. It's why Donna insisted the wedding be somewhere other than Arizona, despite the objections of her parents. Donna put her foot down and told her parents we'd just elope and no one would be invited if no one respected our wishes. I don't think I was actually consulted. I will say this, Dad loved her stance. He was wrapped around her finger by that point.

All he said was, "That woman is a keeper son. I support both of you in this decision. Weddings should not be a media event."

I let it pass that Dad said, "both of you." I didn't remember to agreeing to this, but Dad was in a good mood, Donna wanted it, so the wedding was in the Florida Keys. It was a natural progression to our honeymoon, since we spent a week there after the wedding. Close family and friends attended, as well as all the people Mama and Poppa Fox wanted to invite. They were happy, Dad was happy, Donna was happy and so was I.

The honeymoon was the best honeymoon imaginable. Granted, I have no other honeymoon to compare it to, but it lived up to expectations. Yes, we had sex every day. It was more than that though. Donna seemed to feel just more free to let her guard down outside of Phoenix. No one knew her here. It was just us for that week.

There were simple things, like taking off her bikini top while we were in the ocean. She wasn't worried about photographers, she just laughed and tried to strip me of my swimsuit. She struggled with it, so I helped and she proudly waved it over her head like a trophy. There were people around and many cheered. Others followed suit (no pun intended), and soon there were a few other sets of boobs and men's trunks also waved around. Donna and I saw the response and clapped as each new display appeared. Then we kissed. We'd created a moment. Donna seemed so free of concerns and so was I. I really didn't care if people saw her tits. Let them eat their hearts out, those tits married me. Little stuff like that. I could have died happy that day or any other day during that week.

Then we got home and we had to deal with life back in Phoenix as a newly-married couple. There were some of the usual minor complications, of course, and one a little less common.

The local affiliate wanted Donna to keep the last name "Fox" as her reporter name. It was her brand and no one liked the idea of trading a "Fox" for a "Puckett." That last name of hers and pretending she was single was something KUCK wanted to maintain. She was sex and sizzle, and she was on the air for partly that reason.

Donna told me me what she was being pressured to do, and I tried to talk her out of not giving in. I told her, that her image was as "Donna Fox." As long as she was still working, she should go with the name her viewers knew her as. Donna didn't take my advice well.

"Leon, I wanted to marry you. I wanted to take your name. I don't need my own husband fighting me on this when I'm fighting corporate as well. I'm proud to be married to you and I want it to be known I'm off the market. If it hurts my career, I don't care. Please support me on this."

What do you say to that? It damn near made me tear up. "Donna, you have my support."

She named both of our kids. We talked about it and had our own preferences, but in the end I agreed to hers. She named our daughter Allison. She named our son Nicholas.

So really, there wasn't much conflict. Donna wanted something, and I was happy to oblige. It didn't meant there wasn't the occasional kerfuffle. An example was an actress named "Carmen LaGaretta." In college Donna and Carmen had apparently been frenemies. The two had been in the same sorority. After college, that had apparently bloomed into full-blown antipathy.

It made sense to me. Carmen was the flip side of the same coin to Donna. Two hot women in college would naturally be rivals.

I had seen Carmen in shows before I ever met Donna. She was a budding actress and had gotten small parts on streaming shows. I stumbled upon her by accident. I have a bit of a pirate fetish and she was in an HBO show called "Calico Jack." For those interested, he was a pirate best known for creating the "Jolly Roger," the flag most associated with piracy. It was a fun series, full of violence and sex. It was at that part I discovered Carmen LaGaretta as a supporting character. I'm pretty sure she was "supporting" by her frequent display of her tits and ass. One time, she even showed herself full frontal.

I wasn't exactly told I shouldn't watch anything that actress was in, but the temperature would drop about 20 degrees if we watched a trailer for a new streaming show or film that Carmen LaGaretta was in. If Carmen appeared, Donna would say something like, "This looks like crap," and I had enough sense of self-preservation to suggest something else and definitely not watch those things on my own. Carmen was hot and sexy, and she was in some fantasy shows that definitely seemed like something I would watch, but I didn't need to watch any fantasy when I felt like I was living one.

I'll give you an extreme example of how bad it could get if Donna's desire to be in control of her environment was challenged. Donna came back from a trip to Austin and the airline had lost her luggage. Donna had packed her usual two bags for that trip. After watching the luggage carousel for 30 minutes or so after it was empty, we went to the desk of the airline.

Donna was horrified as we notified the airline of the lost luggage. Honestly it was just clothing and some easily replaced items like makeup and toiletries. Donna certainly didn't see it that way. She treated those missing suitcases as though she'd been a victim of a robbery. The only way I can describe it is that she felt her trust in the airline had been misplaced and she was feeling violated.

She gave the attendant at the airline counter her phone number and I gave her mine, in case Donna couldn't be reached. Donna was devastated and shaking. I'd never seen her this distraught. As we walked away from the attendant, I put my arm around her and said, "Baby, you are over-reacting to this situation."

"This isn't supposed to happen. This shit should never happen."

She didn't shout it. She didn't need to. There were tears in her eyes and I saw a quaver in her lips. I just hugged her and said, "It'll be okay." She hugged me back so hard I felt a bit crushed.

We went home, and the talk along the way was uneasy. I tried to comfort her by saying, "Darling, It's just a suitcases full of clothes."

That comment just seemed to make things worse. "The one with my underwear. The one with my panties and bras. Any person could sell those online. Or masturbate with those. Then sell them online."

I thought her concerns were overwrought. Panties and bras are just underwear. If my boxers or briefs commanded a price on eBay, I'd think it was hilarious. I know women look at that issue differently, so I couldn't exactly say, "I'd be the first to bid on them." That would not have been helpful. I just embraced her and told her I thought it was unlikely that that would happen.

It wasn't enough though. Of course, a husband can't fix certain problems, as much as he wants to. Donna had to wrestle with this demon in her own way. All I could do was offer support. Donna took time off. She certainly had the sick days and goodwill available, because she'd never done that before. Donna never took a sick day, even when she was sick. It was a point of personal pride for her to always show up and pull off being on camera. Anyone who didn't know she was sick, wouldn't have been able to tell.