Getting Over Rita

Instead, I decided to mull it over while I showered.

Tomorrow was Saturday. The party began at eight. I didn't have anything else going on.

***

Even though I was ten minutes early, Rita had already taken an outside table and was sipping a coffee.

"Hi," she said, remaining seated.

"Hi," I said, not offering my hand.

I sat across from her, tried to put on a face that was pleasant without being friendly.

"You don't want anything to drink?"

"I'm good."

She took a sip of her coffee. "I don't know what came over me yesterday. I saw you and I didn't know what to do. You have no idea how many times I thought about calling."

"Oh."

"I probably should have just kept on walking. But then we wouldn't be having this conversation now."

"Hmmm."

Her smile indicated she realized what I was up to. Not only that, but she was not going to let it get in the way of what she wanted to tell me.

"That one time we talked after class--I can't believe it's been a year--neither one of us was in a very good place. The last thing we needed at that time was to bring the end of our current marriages to a new relationship."

I gave her a noncommittal nod.

"And yet I was so damn drawn to you that evening. Actually since the first night of class when I saw you. I knew after that one night I couldn't see you again. I knew I wouldn't be strong enough. That's why I dropped the class and didn't return your calls."

"I see."

"Do you hate me?"

I looked at Rita, really looked at her, for the first time. Not to assess her mood or her feelings, but merely to let her know that she had my full attention.

"I don't have any feelings for you."

She covered her mouth with a napkin, then used it to wipe her eyes. "I wasn't sure what to expect when I asked that question. I think about you often, practically every day."

I didn't say anything.

"I've thought about you every day. You don't have anything you want to say?"

"If I said anything I'd simply be repeating what I've already said."

Her composure took a sudden change. She became angry. "Look, Larry. I'm telling you this because I suspect you have similar feelings for me."

"What makes you say that?"

"From time to time I've asked Darlene about you."

Darlene was a classmate. We'd taken several classes together. She was the other woman at the brewpub that night a year ago.

Rita leaned toward me. "As far as I know you've not dated anyone seriously in the last year."

"And?"

"I'm asking you to give me a chance now that I'm in a better space."

"A better space. What does that even mean?"

"I've been divorced for almost eight months."

"Congratulations."

She smirked. "And I've gone out with a few guys. I felt it was important to build some context, some experience to form a basis of comparison."

"Comparison of what?"

"So that when we met again I wouldn't just swoon at your feet."

I grinned. "What if I like women to swoon at my feet?"

She studied my face for a moment. "Then I'll swoon."

"What are you saying?"

She touched my hand ever so lightly. "I'd love for you to ask me out."

I didn't know what was more surprising: her request or the fact that I didn't immediately agree to it.

I wished now that I'd ordered something to drink so I could busy myself doing something with my hands. Instead I just stared past her for a moment. "I think you've already been asked out."

She gave me a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"The man you were with yesterday."

She waved her hand dismissively. "He's nothing."

"He's definitely not 'nothing.' You were holding hands."

"What I meant was, there's nothing between us."

"Who is he then?"

For the first time I saw her struggle with her thoughts before answering me. "He's a friend."

"I don't believe you. Guys don't do friends with women. But if they do, hand holding is not part of it. This man is someone you care about. Or did care about."

Then a sickening feeling hit my stomach. "The guy is your husband."

She nodded. "Ex-husband."

"And I'm supposed to believe you're not only legally divorced but also separated from him emotionally as well?"

"We can still be friends, can't we?"

I felt glad now that I hadn't ordered anything. I didn't have to worry about picking up after myself. I got up from my seat.

"Larry, please! This isn't how I'd like us to end things."

I laughed. "End what? We never started anything."

***

"I was hoping you'd be here." Her name was Gloria and she was tall, coming up to just below my chin (I'm six-feet-two), and curvy. She welcomed me at Lynn's front door with a big hug and kiss and introduced herself and it dawned on me: she was the 'easy' woman from last year's party.

Her thigh-length kimono-type wrap-around was loosely tied so I could see that she wasn't wearing a bra.

"Come," she said with eyes that were already undressing me. "Follow me."

As she led us toward the back of the house, I considered telling her that if she offered herself this year I wouldn't say no. She would be a good distraction to help me get over Rita.

She put an arm around my waist and when we reached the kitchen, she stopped. "I've got a better idea."

Turning around, she led me down a hallway and into a bedroom.

She locked the door. "This is where I'm sleeping tonight."

She pulled me toward her and gave me a wet kiss. "With you, I hope."

She sank to her knees and I let her undo the front of my pants. Her mouth felt heavenly on my cock.

"It's okay if you come in my mouth."

I decided to abort her blowjob for several reasons. I wasn't that desperate and, yes, she was far too easy. I wanted to get laid tonight, but I wanted it to be the culminating event, not the prequel to the party. The attention to detail seemed manipulative: the bedroom set aside, her greeting me at the door. It felt sort of like an ambush.

With only a little reluctance, I pulled her to her feet, tucked myself back into my pants and hoped like hell I didn't just refuse the last blowjob I'd ever be offered.

I tried to be tactful. "Are you familiar with the saying 'ninety percent of pleasure is in the anticipation?'"

She shook her head.

"I'd like to spend the whole party anticipating the pleasure you're going to give me when it's over."

"Okay," she said without much conviction.

As you might have guessed, I didn't fuck Gloria after the party. She got wasted before the scavenger hunt even began.

***

Lynn asks me to play the piano until everyone arrives and then we're going to have the scavenger hunt. I enjoy playing her parlor grand. The action of the keys allows for nuances difficult or impossible on my electronic keyboard.

I'm in the middle of a Herbie Hancock tune when a woman sits next to me on the bench. "Will I bother you if I sit here?" she says.

She's a short, curvy woman with long, stringy blonde hair, and a face whose expressiveness centers on a pair of large lips that bring to mind Mick Jagger's. I can't help imagining them wrapped around my cock, fellating me.

"Not at all," I say, although in fact her presence already 'bothers' me, but in an exciting way.

"I love how you play. Is that a Herbie Hancock tune?"

I nod. I'm just beginning to solo on the melody.

"It's beautiful. What's it called?"

"Tell Me a Bedtime Story."

She puts her arm around my shoulder. "Oh, I like that!"

A pair of fleshy breasts swell out of her low-scooped spaghetti-strapped mini-dress. Since she's sitting to my right, my arm brushes against them as I reach for the high notes. The contact doesn't seem to bother her. Actually, she rather seems to enjoy it. I'm aware of a warm and fuzzy feeling growing in my nether region.

"You're very talented," she says.

"Thanks." I gaze at her fleshy thighs. "You look very sexy in that dress."

She puts her hand on my leg. "I've had my eye on you ever since I got here."

I like to end my solo on this particular tune in somewhat dramatic fashion so I'm pounding out chords with my left hand and playing eighth and sixteenth notes with my right, my arm constantly brushing against her breasts.

As I wrap up the tune, I repeat a four-bar ending. She slides her hand up my thigh until it nudges against an erection that's already growing uncomfortable.

"No fair," I say as I arpeggiate the final chord to a scattering of applause.

Those sensuous lips of hers form into a wicked smile. She does not move her hand from my crotch. "Am I being too forward?"

"Not in the least. It's just that I wish I could reciprocate."

She brushes her long dark hair away from her face and kisses my cheek. "I'd like that. By the way, my name's Joy."

"I'm Larry."

Midway through another tune, Lynn announces the scavenger hunt. There will be five teams, four to a team. Each team has the same list of six items to find and the teams compete against each other and also the clock.

Lynn takes her time announcing each team, making sure there's plenty opportunity for everyone to meet the members of their team.

"Looks like we're going to be on the same team," Joy says as the last member of the fourth team is announced.

"Looks like," I say. "A nice coincidence."

Joy's satisfied grin indicates that maybe it's no coincidence at all.

Besides Joy and myself, two women, Ann and Pat, comprise the fifth team.

"I can drive," Ann says, "if that's okay with everyone. Pat and I live on this side of town."

"Fine with me," I say. "I'm not familiar with this area."

"Ditto," says Joy. "I live near the university."

"Okay, then," Ann says.

Joy and I squeeze into the rear seat of Ann's small hybrid. We're basically just along for the ride since we're not familiar with the territory,

Ann takes a hard right out of the driveway which catches us by surprise, throwing Joy against me. I reach for something to brace myself and wind up with my hand on her thigh.

Joy smiles. "Foreplay already?" She whispers even though Ann has the radio on and is talking to Pat about strategy.

When I try to move my hand from Joy's thigh, she places one of her own on top of mine.

"I think foreplay began when I was at the piano if memory serves," I say, also whispering.

She nibbles on my neck. "Then let the foreplay continue, shall we?"

I squeeze her thigh, my hand midway between her knee and her crotch, just above the hem of her dress. I love the fleshy firmness of what I feel. "You've got great legs. I like how your dress shows them off."

"Most guys comment on my boobs first."

"I hadn't noticed."

She guffaws. "I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you."

Joy scoots sideways in her seat so her back presses against my chest. She pulls my arm over her shoulder and places my hand inside the top of her dress. I instinctively thrust my hips against her as I squeeze one heavy mound of breast flesh between my fingers. She groans and covers my hand with hers. "I feel a little naked not wearing a bra."

Now it's my turn to groan as I reach for her other breast, grab the nipple and give it a hard squeeze. Joy covers her mouth to mute the yelp.

"You are being very naughty."

"Do you want me to stop."

"Don't you dare!"

Even though I know Ann and Pat can't hear our conversation, I suspect they have an idea of what we're up to. As if to confirm, Pat turns around and gives us a big smile. "How are you two lovebirds doing?"

"Since we really can't help with the scavenger hunt," Joy says, "we'd thought we'd just entertain ourselves and keep out of the way."

At the first stop, Pat asks Joy and me to pick up a takeout menu. We're good for something after all.

Joy hands the menu to Pat and then snuggles next to me as Ann accelerates hard in search of our second item.

"How long have you played the piano?" Joy says.

"Since I was five years old."

"Wow! No wonder you're so good. Do you play professionally?"

I shake my head.

"You could, you know. You really are that good."

"Thanks. I appreciate the compliment."

"Who are some of your favorite artists? Besides Herbie Hancock."

"Let's see...Horace Silver, Bill Evans--I like the saxophone player also named Bill Evans as well. Ahmad Jamal, Oscar Peterson--am I boring you yet?

"Not yet!"

We arrive at our next stop, a hole-in-the-wall convenience store. Pat grins when Joy and I return with a book of matches.

As soon as we close our doors, Ann guns the car and we're off to the next destination.

"So tell me something about yourself," I say.

Joy smiles, takes one of my hands and places it on her thigh. "Well, guys like to hear that I don't have any children, have never been married. I teach sixth grade at a school near the university."

"I'm taking graduate classes there."

"What are you working on?"

"Masters in Public Policy."

She gives me a shit-eating grin. "Move your hand up my thigh."

"Okay."

"A little farther."

My hand is getting close to her crotch. I stop when I feel moisture.

She covers my ear with her lips and licks me. "You're almost there."

I reach between her legs. She's soft and smooth and warm and wet and--I suddenly realize, she's not wearing panties.

"Surprise!"

***

Our team wins by more than three minutes. When the final group arrives, Joy takes me aside. "You want to spend some time with me at my place?"

I nod.

She grabs my hand after we say goodbye to Lynn and leads me outside.

It turns out that our cars are parked in close proximity. She stops in front of her's. "In case you have any doubts, I can't wait to get you into my bed tonight." Her tongue darts into my mouth as we share our first kiss of the evening.

I follow her in my car to her apartment near the university campus.

We pass the brewpub where, a year ago, Rita and I had our conversation and for a minute I replay this morning's meeting with her. I suddenly recall that Rita was going to move into an apartment near campus and now I wonder if it might be in the same complex as Joy's.

For a moment, I sink into a sad reverie, but then my persistent erection distracts me and my thoughts return to Joy.

From the parking lot, it's a short walk to her apartment. She leads me up an outside flight of stairs to a second story unit, commenting that it makes her feel safe that each upper level apartment has its own separate staircase.

She fumbles in her purse for the key. "I've got a roommate, but I doubt she'll be up." She unlocks the door, turns on a light and I follow inside.

Joy finds a note on the eating area table. "She went to a party, looks like. We've got the place to ourselves." She wraps her arms around me and we kiss.

She gives me a tour of the apartment. The two bedrooms, each with an ensuite bath, are on opposite ends of the common area, the kitchen, small eating area and living room.

"Can I get you anything?" she asks as we walk through the common area towards her bedroom.

"Just you!"

"I was hoping you'd say that."

She leads me to her bed. Before hopping on it, she kicks off her shoes and removes her socks. I do the same.

We face each other on our sides, pillows under our heads. She gives me an opened mouth kiss and then all hell breaks loose as we rip off each other's clothes--albeit she has much more work to do since I'm fully dressed.

I manage to slide her dress up until it's gathered around her neck. Once I'm naked, she slips the bunched dress over her head and we embrace.

"You feel so damn good," she says.

Her breasts are soft and spongy and droop in a way that I regard as sexy.

She squeezes my cock. "I need to get to know this guy."

She kisses her way down my chest and abdomen. When she takes my cock into her mouth I let out an involuntary moan, then reach between her legs. Sensing what I want, she scoots herself so we assume a six-nine position. I roll onto my back and she moves herself on top of me and resumes pleasuring me with her mouth.

I explore between her folds with my fingers and tongue and when I reach her clitoris I suck as much of her into my mouth as I can and flick my tongue around her nerve bundle. I penetrate her vaginal opening with two fingers. She howls.

Squirming against me, first groaning and then shouting she sobs her release. I continue finger-fucking her until the trembling stops. She positions herself so we can kiss. We tongue each other. Her hand guides my cock between her folds. When I'm all the way in, in her warmth and wetness and slipperiness, we start a rhythmic dance. There's a moment--I allow it to distract me for only a second--when I think of what's-her-name.

"I knew you'd be this good," Joy says. "As soon as I sat next to you at the piano. The way you played. I don't want us to ever stop fucking."

I press a finger against her anal opening, surprised how dilated it is. She shudders. "You're going to make me come again!"

Grinding against my finger and my cock, she cries out her release. "Fuck, Larry! You know my body like we've been together forever!"

Despite her protests, I slowly withdraw my cock.

"You haven't come yet."

I slap her butt playfully as I roll her onto her stomach. "I'm aware of that."

"What do you want to do?"

"How about a change in position?"

She turns to give me a wicked look. "How about a change in holes?"

"You mean you--"

"--Yes, Larry. I want to feel you in my ass!"

I kneel behind her. There's plenty of vaginal fluid already coating my cock to lubricate her anal opening which is already impressively dilated. I press my cock head against her opening and to my surprise it pulses open even more. She wiggles her butt in anticipation.

"Start slowly, okay?"

I pat her ass cheek. "Not to worry."

Before I know it, I'm half-way in her ass.

Actually, that's not true. As I enter her rear door, I'm aware of each pleasurable inch of her. Joy's ass is a velvet glove that fits just so.

Hearing no complaints, I slowly push until I'm all the way in and then I gently thrust against her. She groans. I thrust again, not so gently. She cries out.

She makes the same sound when I withdraw. Her opening retains almost all of its size. I thrust into her.

"Goddam, Larry!"

I withdraw again and reenter. She responds with loud guttural grunts. Then I fuck her in earnest. Each thrust elicits a grunt, and as the pitch of her voice rises so does my arousal.

I take several deep breaths when I realize we're both on the verge of losing control.

Her hips jerk. She shouts and falls toward the bed. I wrap my arms around her waist.

She turns her face towards me. Something about this small change in position arouses me even more and when she opens her mouth and moves closer for a kiss I reach the edge.

Her body trembles. "Come in my ass?"

But I'm not ready just yet, still enjoying the agony of a sexual itch that has every nerve fiber in my nether region screaming for release.

I slam myself into her ass as she groans her release, fucking her as hard as I can. Judging by the length of her groans, she's gotten off a good one.

I keep pounding into her. Her groans turn to screams. "You're making me come again! Oh my god!"

I'm driving into her now like a madman, my own release at the very edge.

"God, Larry, please come in my ass! Please! Please!"

Loud sobs accompany her plea.

She screams even louder when I pick up the tempo of my fucking. I'm damn near the point of losing control.

"Fuck, Larry! Please come! I can't take this anymore!"

Her sobs turn into crying. "Please, Larry! Please!"

And then she emits an ungodly cry. "Fuck me, Larry! I'm going to come again! Oh, please don't stop fucking me!"

As she cries her release, I empty myself into her.

Finally sated, I roll onto my back, shaking.

She kisses me as she holds me.

I drift off to sleep. Sometime during the night I have a recurring dream. The Whole Foods woman appears, her face looking washed out enough that it's hard to recognize her. Except I know who it is. There's a sense I'm moving away from her. She raises her hand, almost like a student would who wants the teacher to call on her. "My name is --" But I lose the words that follow, her name, because of some loud background noise. Someone has dropped a tray of glasses.