Every April

Admittedly, watching her peel off her clothing, I felt somewhat inhibited, an irony not lost on me--the irony being that doing this with someone I didn't know nearly as long felt more comfortable than doing it with Hannah. Again, it was the idea of going from just friends to friends and lovers. She sensed it too, chuckling while watching me stand there, gawking at her lovely naked self. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she said, "I can't do this alone, you know. Get naked and stay awhile."

I began to do that, feeling even more inhibited watching her watching me from under the covers, grinning in amusement at what I suspected she thought was shyness. She said, "We've reached the point of no return, Jacob. Now hurry up and join me. I'm wet and horny and wanting--wanting you, my long-time cycling buddy."

The point of no return...She was right on that score. When she slipped the covers off and began touching herself like some porn star--sliding her hands over her boobs and legs and even running a finger over her slit--there indeed was no turning back. I always thought she had a sensuous, seductive way about her and what she was doing left no doubt.

"At last, just you and me," she whispered when I joined her in bed.

Just me and Hannah. We had cycled many a mile together, whooped it up at all those post-ride tailgate parties. And now this, snuggled skin on skin, the latest destination in a journey that began two decades ago. She had lovely skin, smooth and soft, but I never knew quite how lovely until this moment, lowering my body against hers, taking in the soft, sensuous feel of her breasts and tummy. My cock, which had done its usual ups and downs, began to ascend once again while we kissed. There was a dreamlike, surreal quality to all this, and I took pleasure in knowing there would be no disappointing wakeup.

She took pleasure in the tactile feel of my tongue, roaming around her nipples and bellybutton and then stabbing into her pussy, hot and gushing. The sound of her voice in heat...wow. It's something I once imagined and now heard--I loved every moan, groan, whimper and shriek.

"Ohmygod, you're gonna make me come just doing this!" she cried.

True to her word, only moments later, she did, letting out a shriek that made me wonder if her neighbors knew what was going on. Then she sat up, embraced me and said, "You've got one golden tongue there, my friend. Fucking amazing."

Verb and adjective reversed not too long after that, for we did some AMAZING FUCKING over the next couple hours, trading positions, including one I'd never tried. She had always been curious about an exercise that I included in my weight training routine: power cleans from the hang. She had joked about it: "Is that a position from the Kama Sutra or something?" No, I didn't power clean her, but I did hold her up--my arms gripped around her legs, her hands gripped around my shoulders--while we were doing it. It was a test of stamina in more ways than one.

"So, what happened to 'not something we have to dive right into?'" I asked as we laid in bed, a couple hours later.

She propped her head up on an elbow, while playing with my hairy chest. "You tell me. You seemed so inhibited at first, telling me about trying to get used to the idea of being more than just friends. Obviously, it didn't take you long."

I shrugged, then drew a sheepish smile while running my fingers over the lovely curve of her hip. "You're amazingly sexy. What can I say?"

"I don't know, but let me just say that we're off to a rousing start. An arousing start, I should say. And look, I know you didn't bring a change of clothes, but I'd like you to spend the night. And then tomorrow, if you're not busy, we can take a bike ride."

Take-charge Hannah was taking charge. Except I didn't mind because I did want to spend the night and I was planning to ride the next day anyway. It was yes to both plans.

Hannah showed me that her invite to spend the night wasn't just about the sex. "I'm a cuddler with the right person," she said when we snuggled in for the night. She was warm and affectionate, loved it when I held her naked body against mine. "I've had my share of men in bed," she revealed, "but precious few of them have spent the night. Consider yourself...special."

She did make me feel that way, even into the morning. "Waking up with you here feels wonderful," she said.

She supplied me with an extra toothbrush, plus made me a delicious omelet breakfast before I returned home. Come noon, per our plan, we met at a local park&ride, then did a forty-mile ride on mostly rural roads.

Seldom had I enjoyed such an amazing weekend. If marriage isn't perfect, weekends can be, or damn close, and that April weekend was about as perfect as it got. From then on, we were, for all intent and purpose, an item. We didn't make a grand announcement to the group. They got the picture when they caught us necking in her BMW shortly before one of our scheduled evening group rides.

On weekends, we usually skipped club group rides, preferring each other's company instead. Sometimes, we rode off into the sunset, literally. When done, we'd stand by our bikes, watching the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky a dull orange. We'd kiss and then ride the rest of the way back. Then we'd repair to my place or hers, shower together, then make love. After that, we were so tired that we often fell asleep in each other's arms. Such wonderful weekends, as good as they get.

Months later, we had a fairy tale wedding. Just kidding! Sorry to disappoint, but a happily-ever-after fairytale this wasn't. Hannah WAS ready to make that sort of commitment. We even talked about looking for rings. However, my gut told me not to do it, mostly because of her controlling personality--tolerable in a dating situation, not so tolerable living with it every day. Go with your gut, as they say, and I did. We dated a while longer, then decided to call it quits. Like many relationships, things either progress or peter out, and ours did the latter, sputtering to the end like a bad engine that loses power and then dies. I loved her; I just couldn't see making a life with her.

So, that's what happened. We broke up minus the nasty drama that sometimes goes with romantic breakups. Not that there wasn't any drama. "Jacob," she said in a teary embrace, "I never married because I refused to settle. I still won't. Wanting to commit with you, it never felt like settling. But you shouldn't settle either. If I'm not the one, then so be it, and I must respect you for that. Just promise me one thing. We'll still do those April phone calls."

We still ride together. Sometimes it's with a group, other times it's just the two of us. The difference is, when it's just us two, we no longer get naked afterward. We're still friends, yet we both concede that it doesn't feel the same. After sharing what we did for all those months, emotionally, you can't ever return to the way things were, to the same mindset. But I still look forward to those April phone calls.