In Absentia: Two Anniversaries

This is an expanded version of a story about my sexual experiences on our first two anniversaries. This new version adds my sexual encounters on my second anniversary with a handsome young lawyer from my husband's firm. As on our first anniversary, my husband was far away, this time in Argentina. What took place while he was gone was the most exciting and satisfying sexual experience of my young life.

Making the Best of It: A Tender Encounter on Our First Anniversary:

As I write this, I am 26 and my husband Jack is 30. I am a painter, already successful in a commercial sense though not entirely satisfied with my recent work. Jack is in his fourth year at Scruggs and Pine, one of the oldest and largest law firms in Cleveland. We met in Chicago nearly five years ago soon after Jack finished law school at Northwestern and I had graduated from the Art Institute of Chicago.

When I was growing up in a small town in southern Illinois my father was a welder and my mother was a teacher's aid in a pre school. Their joint income was never sufficient for us to be comfortable in the present and they could not expect more in the future. Fortunately, my high school academic record and several statewide art awards won me scholarships to the Art Institute. Those, along with student jobs and the early sales of my paintings, provided the support I needed to make it through college.

Friends now sometimes describe me as a California girl, though I have never been there: tall, blonde, shapely, toned, big smile. To them I apparently appear much more confident and laid back than I ever really have been. Jack is slightly taller than I am, handsome and strong, darker, very smart, intense, ambitious, self confident, driven by his high expectations for himself. All of those features attracted me to him. I knew he would succeed career-wise and would be able support comfortably a wife and a family. Given the restricted circumstances of my youth, confidence in such security was highly important to me. I wanted a stable and comfortable life. In retrospect the importance I attached then to financial security may have led me to pay too little attention to other aspects of a successful marriage.

I was not highly experienced sexually when I agreed to marry Jack and I realize now I did not understand what later I would want and need sexually from a husband. Almost none of the boys I dated in high school shared my interests in art and culture. Good conversation on any subject seemed beyond most of them. Sexually they often were crude and clumsy, always in too much of a hurry, as inexperienced as I was but unwilling to admit it. While my sexual adventures were largely unrewarding, I did learn to pleasure myself in those years. So much simpler and always available "on demand." Pleasing myself probably reduced a need to find a fully satisfactory male partner during high school, and even later. Perhaps that is the case for many women.

College was better in terms of shared interests and more engaging conversations though the sex was not much better. I had expected male students at the Art Institute to be more experienced, imaginative, inventive, to know how to give me pleasure. I hoped we would satisfy one another and still be sweet and gentle in doing so, like I was when I pleased myself. But that was not the case. None of the men I dated as an undergraduate ever gave me an orgasm.

When I met Jack I found someone who did know what to do and how to do it--though usually very much on his terms. He seemed always to know what he wanted, even if I often did not. I loved his vigorous, intense enjoyment of my body as he pounded me from above or took me from the back or guided me to ride him hard until he climaxed. He did sometimes, when I asked for it, give me organisms with his fingers or his mouth, though patient and gentle was not his natural inclination. I know now I was far too passive.

As with most young couples sex was frequent and usually pleasurable, not as passionate or creative as I had anticipated and not as sweet and gentle and patient as I needed most of the time. In those early months, I loved giving him pleasure more than I cared about my own satisfaction. Now, I wish I had pushed harder for him to slow down and tend more patiently to my needs for affection and communication. I should have done more to make clear what I wanted when we were dating and during the first year we were married. But still, at first this did not seem a big problem within the larger picture of our lives together.

Overall, at the beginning of the time I am remembering and writing about here, I was pleased with my art and, most of the time, with my life with Jack, though maybe I did not recognize yet the ways in which we were different. We both found our work challenging and rewarding. Jack was extremely busy and in demand within his law firm. I was very much enjoying my painting and, feeling quite secure, I could work at a slower pace than Jack with more time for going to galleries and museums, to read and relax when I needed to. I had worked hard during my undergraduate years to take care of my body through a healthy diet and good exercise, in the fitness center and, especially, running through the parks and trails along Lake Michigan. By the time of our wedding, comments from friends and the looks I received when we went out made me feel I had never looked better.

As our first anniversary approached, Jack was in San Francisco handling negotiations on an important case. During the two weeks he had been gone my painting was going very well. It often did while he was away. I knew I needed new work for the galleries in Cleveland, Chicago and Kansas City that handled my paintings. I hoped someday for representation in New York.

Then, late on a Thursday night, Jack called to tell me he would not be home for our first anniversary; negotiations in San Francisco were at a crucial stage and likely to continue through most of the next week; he hoped to be home by the next week end.

"Jack, I was so looking forward to being together on our first anniversary. This is so disappointing. I will be sad and lonely without you, sweetheart. I am missing you so much each day, and each night!" He assured me he felt the same and would make it up to me as soon as we were together. He also reminded me that Sunday was not only our anniversary but also the day of the firm's annual picnic for its lawyers and staff and their families.

" Amber, I hope you will go. We have looked forward to this, especially to connect with some of the other younger lawyers and their wives and partners. But also because the firm expects it of us. You can explain why I am not there. Please go without me. You always enjoy being with some of these people and you will feel less lonely if you go. Several of those young single lawyers will let you know you are appreciated and you won't be lonely for long." I told Jack I would plan to go, that being with good company in a beautiful setting on the lake might help me not feel so alone.

On Sunday I drove east of the city to the lovely mansion on the lake where the company picnic was being held. I arrived late afternoon and noticed that families with children had already begun to leave after several hours of food, drink and games on the lawn and in the water. I was not much in the mood for children or games. I circulated for a half hour saying my polite hellos to the firm's partners and their spouses. Almost everyone inquired about Jack and commiserated with me on his absence. I did not tell any of them today was our first wedding anniversary.

After I filled a plate from the buffet table and picked up a gin and lemonade at the small bar, I made my way to where some of the people I knew best were sitting and enjoying the remains of the day. I sat down on a vacant chair, chatted first with a young lawyer and his wife who Jack and I knew well, and then turned to introduce myself to the man next to me, the only older man at the table. I knew that his name was Arthur Vickery, that he was a member of the firm, and that I had met him once previously. I also recalled what Jack had told me about him, that his younger and very beautiful wife had died suddenly about six months ago. Arthur looked to be between fifty and sixty, still very handsome, a bit subdued which was understandable. I assumed he would not remember me but to my surprise he said, "You are Jack Best's wife. I recall meeting you briefly at the picnic last year, a bit later in the summer I think. You were newlyweds if I recall correctly. Is Jack here? I haven't seen him."

I explained the circumstance of my being here alone and I did mention to him that today was our first anniversary. "We are no longer newlyweds," I said.

Arthur replied, "It must be disheartening to be apart for an anniversary, especially the very first one. Jack should have mentioned this; the firm should have known and sent someone else to San Francisco--or we should have flown him home, even for just a day, at our expense." I thanked him for his sympathy which made me wonder why Jack had not tried harder to be with me, even just for today. I understand and accept he is very ambitious and hopes to rise quickly in the firm. But still. Our first anniversary.

Arthur and I began to talk, very comfortably. I liked him almost immediately as we discovered several interests that we shared: a love of the novels of Anthony Trollope and the movies of Alfred Hitchcock, a high regard for the several female members of the Supreme Court, and a special affection for homemade pecan pie. We traded opinions about all of these and then other topics at random. I began to feel I was spending too much time with Arthur and slighting his and my own friends and other acquaintances. But I was feeling lonely for my husband, at least slightly resentful he had not worked out a way to be with me on this first anniversary, and I was enjoying getting to know Arthur Vickery. I rationalized that Arthur's awareness of Jack's dedication would also be useful to him in the firm.

As the day came to an end, as a gesture toward those who wanted to stay longer, the firm had arranged for a quartet to continue to play as the sun began to go down over the lake. Several older husbands and wives and a larger number of the younger lawyers and their girlfriends or boyfriends remained behind for dancing and another round of drinks. By this time I had had several glasses of gin and lemonade and was floating a bit when Arthur asked me to dance with him. He was a very good dancer and I felt relaxed and secure in his arms. I told him after a few dances that I thought I should sit for awhile and maybe have a cup of coffee to make certain I was prepared to drive home.

"I know just the place for you to clear your head, Amber, a short walk to a bench under a shady tree, a great spot to watch the sun go all the way down and to feel the evening breeze come in off the water. I will step inside to get a cup of coffee for you and then we can enjoy the view until you feel ready to leave."

This made sense to me and with my coffee in hand we followed a winding path along one side of the property through trees and shrubs to a quiet place with a lovely view out over the water. We sat on the bench there and remained quiet for some minutes. Arthur told me again that he was sorry that Jack and I could not be together here on our anniversary. He said, "I know what it is to be alone, away from the person you love best in all the world."

I said, "Arthur, I know about your wife, your tragedy; you must be terribly lonely. Jack being away can't compare to what you must feel every day."

Arthur began to talk of marriage, of his marriage, of its passions and pleasures, its ups and downs, it's comforts and even of its risks. He said couples need always to celebrate the high points and, for the downs, to have patience, to realize that your love will bring you back together if you wait on it. "You need to recognize its importance, to take nothing for granted, to work for it every day. I know these things now better than I did before I lost Felice. No problem you and Jack will face will be impossible except the one that I have experienced, an irredeemable separation."

Arthur was quiet then and his face reflected his deep pain. I felt he had become my friend and I hoped that he felt the same about me after only our brief time together. I wished I could lift his sprits. I turned to look into his handsome sad face, and I said to him. "Arthur, I am so sorry about your wife. While I can imagine the love you shared I can't imagine what it must be like to have it sundered. Can I help in any way? "

He was quiet, looking out over the water. I felt lonely for myself and on his behalf as well. I was needy. I felt he must be too. I reached up with my hand and turned his face toward me, surprised at what I wanted to do for him. "Arthur, let me kiss you. Think about how this would be if Felice was here with you still."

I kissed him very softly and held the kiss for quite a long time before he began to return it at all, then very slowly pressing harder against my lips as his arms came around me. I snuggled against him, letting him know I was comfortable with the physical contact. I realized I liked being with him like this, feeling I wanted to give him this time with me as a gift. I knew he was surprised, as I was, but I sensed he also was very pleased. I let the tip of my tongue slip out and press against his teeth. There was no response to this so I pressed a bit harder and his mouth opened. So now we shared warmer kisses. More intimate. He returned mine and held me tighter. "This is nice for me Arthur. Is it for you?"

"Wonderful. Amber, you don't need to do this."

"I know, but it is sweet. I want to be sweet to you."

As I looked into his eyes I moved my hand to his lap. I could feel his erection. Firm, aroused from our kisses. I felt pride in that. It excited me. I slid my hand along his length inside his pants. Gently and slowly. I heard his intake of breath. Then a sigh.

"Arthur, should I stop?"

"No, please."

I took one of his hands and pressed it against my breast. "Touch me, Arthur. Be easy about it. Unbutton my blouse if you wish. I am lonely too."

He loosened several buttons and moved one hand inside my light bra, gently tweaking my nipple. I felt alive to his touch. I continued to move my hand on his sex. "Arthur, may I unzip you. I would like for you to feel my hand on you."

He could not bring himself to tell me he wanted that. I moved the zipper down and then reached for him. He shifted so that it was easy for me to put my hand around him and bring him out. I began to stroke his cock.

"Is this good, Arthur? Is this something you have needed? I want to give you this as a gift from a new friend."

I continued to move my hand on his cock, playing with him. But I needed something too. I said, "Arthur, I have nothing on under my skirt. Will you touch me if I raise my skirt."

" Can I give you pleasure, Amber?"

"You have already given me pleasure, Arthur, from our kisses and from my touching you. But I would welcome your hand on me."

So he touched me gently. Soon I asked for him to stroke my clit more firmly with his finger. "Make me come Arthur. I need to come with you. It won't take much." I had an easy orgasm. Not shooting stars but satisfying.

"Now let me make you come, Arthur." I began to stroke him more vigorously. I could tell he was close. "Do you have a handkerchief, Arthur. I will catch your cum."

"Amber, I'm sorry, I don't. I don't want to make a mess for you."

"Let me know when you are ready, Arthur".

"Now, Amber, I'm going to come!"

I bent over him and put my mouth around his penis. I felt him jerk and heard his guttural moan. I waited with his cum in my mouth and then swallowed it as best I could. There was not a lot to swallow.

We both leaned back on the bench, surprised, uncertain. At first we did not look at each other. After a few minutes I reached over to zip up his pants. He reached over to button my blouse.

" Arthur, what a surprising summer picnic this has been. I hope you are not shocked; I hope I have not embarrassed or offended you."

"Amber, no. I never expected such a gift. So generous. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I hope we will remain friends, good friends but, I suggest, friends without future benefits. Perhaps I will regret saying that. Amber, what about Jack?"

"I will tell him, Arthur. We will talk about it. I think I can make him understand. It might be a good thing for us to explore what happened. A kind of test too." In the back of my mind I was thinking I needed more of the gentle caring kind of sex Arthur and I had shared. Jack was more urgent and insistent and directive and I hoped he could learn to go more slowly sometimes and with more regard for my feelings and needs.

Jack returned the next Friday, pleased the case was settled as he had hoped, an important success for him in the firm. We made love, hungrily. His way. He took my clothes off and, as was usually the case, directed me. Sometimes I liked that. Sometimes not very much. He wanted me facing away from him kneeling on a leather chair in the library. He took me hard and fast and I liked it that way then and told him so. We were both soon ready again. He wanted me to ride him this time while he sat in a wooden side chair. I went slowly, pleasing myself, making him wait, trying to maintain a balance in our sexual relationship. I looked over his shoulder at the law books on the shelves, imagining all the lawyers who wrote them watching me, enjoying the look on my face as my orgasm came, seeing my body shudder as the pleasure rocked through me. I was satisfied. What was Jack feeling. Often I wasn't sure. He did not seem to enjoy talking about sex during it, or afterward.

As we recovered and sat quietly on the couch, it seemed to me like a good time to talk. In retrospect, that was a mistake.

"Jack, before we go to sleep there is something I want to share with you. I have done something unexpected, surprising to myself, while you were away. Something sexual. On our anniversary. I want you to help me understand if I have been a very bad girl or, as I believe, a very good girl. I want us to talk about this.

"I sat with Arthur Vickery at the picnic. As we talked over drinks, he confided his sadness over the death of his wife and his frustrating efforts over the past several months to find some new woman for a serious relationship. He was feeling a great deal of anxiety about this because he was so lonely. He talked about marriage, what it means to value it and to be patient when things are difficult. I felt very bad for him and told him that. He said to me, 'Jack is a talented young lawyer and very fortunate and wise in choosing you as his partner. I envy Jack and I know he wishes he could be with you here and tonight.'

"I sat with Arthur on a bench looking over the lake. He was almost crying. I wanted so much to make him happier, to help him forget the pain for awhile. And so I kissed him, Jack, and that led to more intimate touches, and finally I let him touch me and I touched him and helped him come. So did I. I was happy that I did that for him. It was a gift he needed and I thought one he deserved. And it pleased him to do something for me. This is not a love affair, Jack. Not something to be repeated. A passing moment, but not one I am ashamed of or reluctant to tell you about. If anything I am proud of myself. For being a good girl I think.

"I hope the three of us will be friends. I believe you would like him as a friend -- as I think I will. I know he already admires your work. Jack, I hope you are mature enough and generous enough to be Arthur's friend and to appreciate what I did with him on our anniversary."