Learning The Hard Way (Edited V. 1.10)

I was forced to move into a cheesy one-room 'efficiency' apartment. It was tiny, the rent was too high and I hated it! So, when I retired, one of the first things I did was buy a house. I was lucky enough to find one, with a pool, at a price I was willing to pay. The timing couldn't have been better.

It was also my good fortune that the closing conveniently occurred in the last week of September.

Summer was ending and, even though I had just started moving in, I decided to throw a house warming-pool party before the cold weather set in. I couldn't have chosen a better time; the forecast had called for unseasonably warm temperatures that week and that was perfect for a pool party.

I made up a list of people to invite. At the top of the list was Gwen and below her were the names of eight of my closest friends. Once it was completed, I began inviting them over.

I was elated when Gwen accepted my invitation and couldn't wait to see her.

The second name on the list was Bobbie Rucker.

I called her and she answered the phone...

"Hey Joey, what's up?" She said cheerfully.

I asked casually, "Got any plans this Saturday?"

I used to work with Bobbie and we had a 'special' relationship that went well beyond the workplace. It also continued even after I retired.

"Nope, I'm totally free. Why, do you want me to move in or are you just horny?" Now do you understand what I meant by 'special'?

Somberly, I told her, "Wet ink, remember?" I was referring to my most recent divorce.

"I'm having a party. Want to come?"

"Is there going to be anyone eligible there or should I bring a date?" She asked.

Jokingly, I replied, "Well, that depends. What are you dating this week, men or women?"

"Men!" Bobbie exclaimed, "Aren't you ever going to let me forget about Vegas?"

Laughing, I said, "Hey, I'm not the one who got drunk and picked up a stripper. "

"How was I supposed to know 'he' was a woman in drag?" She asked defensively. "Besides, you're just mad because her dick was bigger than yours!"

I reminded her, "Yeah, but at least mine is real! And while we're on the subject, I don't remember you complaining that night while I was fucking you."

"Was that you inside me at the time? No wonder I can't recall what happened. Then again, that might be because there wasn't much to remember."

I retorted, "What was it you said? Oh, now I remember. Tell me if I got it right. I think it was... 'OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!' Does that sound familiar?"

"Very funny!" Bobbie said giggling.

Then I asked, "But seriously though, think you can make it?"

She said she would come; and, after a few minutes of chit-chat, I told her that the party was to begin at 12:00 noon. Then we both hung up and I continued going down the list. Everyone agreed to come.

I spent most of that week moving most of my stuff from my apartment to the house. By the time Thursday arrived, I had moved my bedroom furniture, the things in the kitchen, and the stuff from the bathroom to the house. The only things still at my apartment were my clothes, everything in the living room, and a few personal care items.

That Friday, after I cleaned the grill, I went to the store and spent about two hundred and fifty dollars on booze and party favors. That night, I prepared my entrees and desserts for the next day.

Finally it was Saturday morning.

Dressed in my tackiest beach shirt, green shorts and a pair of brown leather sandals, I went in the back yard and began heating the grill. There wasn't a cloud in the sky.

While the grill was warming up, I left a sign on the front door telling everybody that the party was in the back.

By 11:00, my second batch of steaks was almost ready when I heard the sound of the gate hinge squeaking. 'Didn't I tell everyone it was at 12:00?' I thought to myself as I looked in the direction of the gate.

When I saw it was Gwen my jaw almost fell completely open.

She was wearing black crisscross knit dress whose deep v-neck displayed magnificently her voluptuous cleavage. And, its clinging waist accented her figure so perfectly that you would have sworn the dress had been custom tailored for her. On her feet she wore a pair of faux leather black sling back sandals. They were casual but at the same time elegant; and, the entire ensemble made her look stunning.

"Hey" I said to her, "The party doesn't start until 12:00. What are you doing here so early?"

While waiting for her answer, one at a time, I began removing the steaks from the grill.

Setting the bag down, Gwen replied cheerfully, "I thought I would break with protocol and come early in case you needed any help. That smells great, by the way."

"Thanks; and thanks for showing up early but I've got everything in control." I replied. Then I thought about it and said, "You know, if I were you, I'd enjoy the pool while I could before everyone gets here." I offered.

It must have been a good idea, because Gwen accepted it saying, "I think that's exactly what I'll do."

I went back to cooking; and, when I looked up, it was to see Gwen reach down with both hands and grab the bottom of her skirt. As I began throwing hamburgers on the grill, I watched her take off her dress and place it in her bag. When she did and I saw what she'd been wearing under her dress, I had to stop long enough to enjoy the view. You see, Gwen had worn a surprising immodest and very sensual, white 'Carlita Bikini'.

Now for those of you who don't know what a 'Carlita Bikini' is, I'll tell you.

As its name implies, a 'Carlita Bikini' is a two-piece bikini style bathing suit. The top, while strapless, ties in the back; and, there is a keyhole tie at the bust. There are also ruffles running along the bust line. The bottom sits low on the waist and scoops downward in the front. The waist-line and leg openings are trimmed with more ruffles; and, the whole thing, both bottom and top are made of stretchy gauze material. It's skin tight and very sexy.

Like any self-respecting male chauvinist pig, I responded primitively by whistling my appreciation.

"Gwen, you're absolutely gorgeous." I told her truthfully.

She blushed and said disbelievingly, "Liar." then asked, "Where's the hose?"

I pointed to the garden hose attached to the spigot on the back of the house. "The water's already on." I said and then flipped my hamburgers.

Casually, Gwen strolled over to the hose and picked it up with her left hand. Aiming the nozzle downwards, she held it over her head and pulled the trigger.

"EHHHH!" She screamed as the cold water came pouring suddenly down on her.

I laughed. Next I yelled and then looked in her direction, "Cold?"

"What do you think?" Gwen asked playfully then hit me with a spray of cold water. The grill lid was closed, not that the water could have spoiled the meat anyway.

Even if she hadn't hit me with the cold water, the hard nipples protruding from her breast through her bikini top said everything.

For the next hour, while she swam, I cooked. Then, starting at about 12:15, fashionably late the other guest began arriving.

They ate; they drank; then they drank some more.

I had been so busy playing host that it didn't even occur to me until four hours later that I really hadn't said more than two words to Gwen since she'd arrived. Since I didn't want Gwen to feel as if I was ignoring her, I searched the house until I tracked her down. When I found her she was in the kitchen with Bobbie. They were talking...

"You're kidding! Not even once?" Bobbie exclaimed in apparently disbelief. She was sipping on a strawberry daiquiri and her speech was slightly slurred. I could tell that she wasn't drunk but she was most definitely not feeling any pain either!

I didn't know what they were talking about but I did hear Gwen say to her, "No, never! Patty didn't believe in it. He said it was a sin.

"Do you believe that?" Bobbie asked.

Gwen told her frankly, "No. I've always wanted to try it myself."

"Girl, let me tell you, until you do you'll never know what you've been missing!" Bobbie said enthusiastically.

Embarrassed, Gwen said insistently, "There's only one person I want to show me how it's done."

"He'll do it."

Hesitantly, Gwen asked, "You really think so?"

Bobbie must have seen me approaching because just then she called to me…

"Girl talk, Joey. Come back later!" It was more of an order than a request.

Feeling somewhat spurned, I turned and headed in the other direction. As I did, I heard Bobbie's voice saying to Gwen…

"Okay, here's what you do…"

Since it seemed like totally innocuous talk to me, I forgot the whole conversation. I would be reminded of it later.

It had become dark outside and everyone except Gwen was gone. She had stayed behind to help me clean up.

I talked Bobbie into accepting a ride from Jerry, another friend of mine. To her credit, Bobbie had enough sense to know not to drive. The way Bobbie was making goo-goo eyes at Jerry told me that, unless he did something really stupid, his car wouldn't be the only thing she rode that night.

Gwen and I collected the various, dishes, glasses and utensils scattered throughout the house; and, after we loaded up the dishwasher, we both I sat down at the kitchen table to relax. Except for the sound of the dishwasher, everything was quiet for several long seconds.

Gwen broke the silence. "Joey, can I talk to you about something personal?"

"Do I need to change mouthwashes?" I asked jokingly.

But there was a serious look on her face when she replied, "No. It's not about you. It's about me."

"Sure; that's what friends are for."

Her expression unchanged, Gwen said, "It's very personal and might take a while?"

"Take your time. It's not like I have to go to work in the morning."

Gwen began, there was trace of nervousness in her voice, "Joey, my sex life with Patty was so dissatisfying that sometimes I felt like becoming a nun."

The look on her face told me wasn't joking.

She paused hesitantly and then asked, "Do you remember back in high school my telling you that I was saving myself for when I got married."

"Oh yes. You were very clear about that at the time!" I must have been a little too quick with my answer because she smiled.

Gwen continued, "I really was a virgin at the time and stayed that way right up until my wedding night.... boy was that a disappointment."

"If it makes you feel any better, you're not the first woman who's said that." I said consolingly.

She politely ignored me and continued. "Like most girls that age, I thought my marriage would be a caring, loving relationship, full of romance and passion. It wasn't!"

"I thought Patty loved you?"

Disappointment in her voice, Gwen replied, "Love? Patty didn't love me any more than I loved him."

"But I thought..." I began.

She broke me off, "Let me guess, he was perfect for me because we both were devoted to the church?"

"You mean he wasn't? Then why did you choose to marry him?"

Angrily, Gwen replied, "I didn't choose to marry him; my parents made the choice for me. I just went along with it."

"Why didn't you say no?"

In an unemotional voice Gwen said, "Lots of reasons, but mostly because I didn't have the courage to stand up to my parents. And if you're wondering how it was I didn't know what he was really like, think back to when you and I were dating. Remember Jimmy, our chaperone?"

I saw her point.

"So was he really as devoted to the church as everyone thought he was? Or, was that just a facade?"

Coldly Gwen replied, "Oh, he was. And he made sure that I was too. I had to do everything according to scriptures... and I do mean everything!"

"Well, I knew you went to church a lot."

Sarcastically, Gwen said, "I'm not talking about church. I'm talking about everything… including our sex life."

"That boring was it?" I asked.

With a touch of indignation, Gwen replied, "Boring? It was practically non-existent! He even had me convinced that he truly believed that sex was only for procreation. When I asked him what that meant he replied, 'As Good Catholics we can do it once a month, in the 'church approved' missionary position, and then only to conceive a child."

"Once a month? What kind of bullshit is that? And, what kind of man wants to make love to his wife once a month? It doesn't make any sense, Patty wasn't that stupid, he went to college the same as I did; he had to know that the odds of you getting pregnant would have to be at least over a million to one."

With the same indignant tone in her voice, Gwen said informatively, "You assume that he wanted to make love with me. I'll clear that up for you in a moment. And you're right; Patty wasn't stupid, far from it in fact. As to my getting pregnant, that didn't matter. He made sure that would never happen."

"How?"

She floored me. "He tricked me into taking birth control pills.

"Huh? That's completely contrary to what he told you."

She began, "I know. In order to explain that to you, the first thing you need to know is that Patty had a few mental problems. Did you know he was an obsessive compulsive?"

"I wasn't sure."

Gwen continued, "Well he was and one of the things he obsessed about was his health. You should see the cleaning products I have at the house. I have something for everything. Why, I think I even got something to get rid of sunspots."

I laughed. It was good to know she still had a sense of humor.

She continued, "You know he was obsessed with religion. Then there was the one with his car, and lastly, but not least, his Journals of Erotic Fantasies. I'm just hitting the major ones by the way."

"A lot of men obsess over their cars. It's a guy thing." I explained.

Then she asked, "How many men do you know spend three hours a day cleaning their cars?"

"A few."

But she wasn't finished, "Every day, whether it's raining or not?"

"You've got me there. Still, that's not too bad is it?"

Gwen, answered, "I didn't think so either. But then, as soon as we were married, I found out how obsessive he was about his health. So, when he insisted that I start working out and taking vitamins, I naturally assumed that my health had become another thing for him to obsess over. I was wrong. Oh, Patty was obsessed alright, but not about my health, he was obsessed with making sure that I never got pregnant."

"I'm missing something here." I told her; and I was.

At first, her answer seemed vague, "Well, it's like this... women who work out a lot have been known to go long stretches of time without having a period. The way my doctor explained it to me, it has something to do with the way the body changes hormone production when we exercise heavily. And believe me, when I say I worked out a lot, I mean I worked out A LOT! It was one of the ways I dealt with my many frustrations."

'Sexual being one of them?' I asked mentally.

Not being psychic, Gwen didn't hear me. "I didn't realize it then, but even though I was working out like an Olympic athlete in training, I never missed my period... not once! And believe me, I should have."

There was no way that could have happened unless...

"Wait a minute! Are you saying he gave you birth control pills and told you they were vitamins?"

I detected a bit of anger in her voice, "That's exactly what I'm saying."

"But why?" She was visibly agitated and I was begging to wonder if I should change the subject. So, I asked, "You sure you really want to talk about this?"

She replied, "I need to."

After taking a deep breath, Gwen continued, "After four years of living with him, I couldn't take it anymore. So, I started going to counseling. It was in counseling that I began to realize just how strange our relationship really was. For years I did everything I could think of to get him to go with me he always refused. Finally, ten years into our marriage, he relented."

"What brought about the sudden change in attitude? For that matter, why didn't you leave him then? Nobody would have blamed you."

I kind of expected her answer, "Since he wasn't beating me or running around on me, I didn't feel justified in leaving him."

"There are other forms of abuse you know?"

She acknowledged, "Yes, but I felt I had a sacred responsibly to make things work so I stayed with him. Then there was the reason he went to counseling in the first place; his mother had just died and I knew he was having trouble dealing with it. By then, I knew he was mentally ill and couldn't help himself. What I didn't know was how ill he really was."

"What do you mean he couldn't help himself? What could possibly make a man give his wife birth control pills and not want to have sex with her?" Then a bizarre thought came into mine mind and I asked, "Wait a minute; Patty wasn't gay was he?"

But it wasn't that, "No Joey, it wasn't that Patty didn't want to have sex with women; it's that Patty was repulsed by female genitalia!"

"That's crazy! How can anyone want to have sex but not stand the sight of the object of their desires? Everyone wants to have sex. Most men want to have sex with women; some men want to have sex with other men; then there are those that want to have sex with both. Hell, there are even a few really weird ones that want to have sex with farm animals. Whatever their taste, or lack of taste is, they all want to have sex. But I've never heard of anyone who wanted something but couldn't bear to look at it."

Once she explained it, in a screwed up way, what she said make sense… even if it was in a strangely fucked up way. "Patty wasn't like everyone else. He suffered from a Sexual Aversion Disorder. That's why he didn't want to make love to me. It's also why he gave me the birth control pills without telling me. He had trouble dealing with it himself and was deathly afraid if we had a child, that child would be cursed with his affliction. Patty was still a human being and like everyone else had desires. He just wasn't able to act on them. That's where the journals came in. Even though it pained him to touch a woman, didn't mean he never fantasized about it. He did, in very vivid and explicit detail! I know because he wrote every single one of them down in his journals."

"How did you find out about them? Did he show them to you or something?"

She laughed sarcastically, "Oh no! He'd never have done that. I found his journals while cleaning out his office after he died. I discovered them locked in the office closet. I remember one of his fantasies involved a nun at school, two of my female classmates, and wooden paddle and a bicycle pump."

"That's really fucked up!"

She didn't respond.

But none of which explained why it was she'd never talked to anyone about sex. Neither did it explain why Gwen was telling me all this? It's not the kind of conversation a man usually expects to have with a woman he's not sleeping with. For a moment the thought entered into my mind that Gwen was going to ask me to have sex with her. Then I realized how utterly preposterous it was and thought no more about it. So I asked the next logical question...

"When you were in high school, didn't you and your girlfriends talk about sex?"

She replied, "With the Holy Penguins always watching us all the time?" 'Holy Penguins' was our little nickname for the nuns and priests at the school. All were overweight and most of them waddled when they walked. As you can imagine, dressed in black and white, they looked like penguins.

"I see your point." I told her. Then I asked, "What about on the school bus?"

Gwen shook her head. "And take the chance that anyone could be listening?

"Phone?" I queried.

But she had an answer for that too, "I wasn't allowed to have a phone in my room when I was a teenager. Besides, even if I had, that last thing I would have wanted was for my parents to pick up the receiver and hear what I was talking about."