My Life and Loves Ch. 02: 1970

In the letter she told her friend about Tex, the safety pins, her dance at the foot of his bed, and the rock. And more. She said she felt terrible about this, she'd betrayed me, and she was planning to leave me because of her guilt. Our daughter would remain with me.

I told my secretary to please cancel my appointments as I was taking the rest of the day off. I walked over to Mikki's office, and we headed out for an uncomfortable talk. I don't remember much of what was said, except we agreed to see a sex counselor and try to save our marriage. We checked into a room at The Kahala Hotel, and she showed me the position Tex had used. We hadn't fucked since before she went to Texas -- so about four weeks of celibacy for me. I liked Tex's position and the control it gave me. I loved seeing her boobs move about. I loved make-up sex. And I lasted longer -- much longer -- in the saddle than did the cowboy.

The sex therapist was great. A gruff old man in an old Cardigan sweater, smelling like pipe tobacco. He had a funny 8mm projector into which he inserted plastic cartridges and Mikki and I watched grainy sex education films.

We did various exercises, in his office and at home. In one session we could do everything but fuck. In another, called round-the-world, she started on me cowgirl-style, and the idea was to rotate through various positions -- remaining coupled -- until we got to the missionary for the finale.

He wanted to discuss the female orgasm. (Remember this would have been 1976 or thereabouts -- way before the internet.) The what? Females have orgasms? Who would have known?

He provided us with one of those battery-operated cylinder vibrators and gave us instructions on its use. Mikki didn't want to try it herself, so I set off on my mission while she gave me instructions based upon guesswork. After a lot of fumbling, we were accidentally successful -- and our marriage improved considerably.

I was the giver of orgasms, although not vaginally. Our new variation was me on top, and then I'd roll over on my side (still inside her). I'd use the vibrator on her clit, and enjoyed the vibration passed on to my cock through the walls of her vagina. When she had her orgasm, I was right in there to enjoy the pulsation. When she'd finished, I'd roll back up (still engaged) and would fuck her. Wait five or ten minutes. Repeat.

We moved to American Samoa in 1978, and at one point took a month-long trip to New Zealand. It was great fun, only to find out when we got back to Pago Pago that Mikki's father had died weeks earlier. We never thought to tell anyone where we would be on which date. Mikki cooked dozens of meals for me and froze them, and she and our daughter flew back to Connecticut for two months.

I suddenly discovered that I had lots of friends. It helped, of course, that I was the only bank loan officer in American Samoa. I learned that people just didn't like Mikki -- but did like me. I didn't eat a single one of the frozen meals but didn't have the wisdom to discard them so that it looked like I did.

At one point I flew to Western Samoa for a long weekend with my British secretary Jenny, her husband Ian, and the gentleman that was in Pago Pago to install the Comsat dish. We spent a day drinking by the pool at Aggie Gray's Hotel. I was quite infatuated with Jenny so asked the waiter to serve Ian drinks with double shots. I visited Aggie's frequently, and the waiter was happy to oblige, and happy to receive the nice tip I gave him. Ian went off to bed early, and Jenny and I went dancing. (And, you may remember, I am a reluctant -- and terrible -- dancer.) Afterwards it made complete sense for Jenny and me to have a shower in my room.

She was wearing a green print dress (her favorite color) held up by two spaghetti straps. I easily untied them and dropped the skirt to the floor. She was braless, and now topless. Her British breasts were creamy white with nice pink areola and nipples like small buttons. (I learned that Ian called her nipples "puppy dog noses.")

I pulled my aloha shirt off over my head, not taking time to unbutton more than the top couple of buttons. My erect cock was pushing its way towards Jenny. We took off our underwear together and went into the shower. We lathered everything -- but particularly what the British call the "rude bits." Jenny reminded me that she couldn't get her hair wet because, afterwards, she would be returning to drunk Ian in his bed.

We didn't bother to dry off -- but headed to my bed. I climbed on top of her and kissed her lips, and then her smooth breasts, and then nuzzled my nose into her warm bush. The musty smell is like a force of nature.

I was ready. I scooted back up and put the tip of my cock at the opening of her vagina. I knew that when I pushed (there was no question of "if" -- I was going to fuck her) the world would change. At this point I had only fucked Mikki.

And I pushed.

At one point she lifted her head to look down towards our genitals, and said "Oh, look. It's lovely." I looked, and it was lovely.

I knew I could cum, but I didn't want to do so. I didn't want this to end. And she was so lovely and smooth and creamy I had some weird notion that I didn't want to soil her with my jiz.

But I finally reached that point of no return, and squirted all my cum into the deepest, darkest recess of her cunt. Yes, all of this was lovely.

Was this a revenge affair? Would I have been unfaithful if it were not for the cowboy? I honestly don't know. Being honest, I think I would have fucked Jenny even if Tex had not existed. To me Jenny was just too irresistible.

She returned to her room and slipped, naked, into bed beside Ian. He woke up and started to cuddle her. Something atavistic rose inside him -- probably from the scent of a freshly-fucked woman. Fogged by sleep and double-shot drinks he still wanted to re-claim what was his, so he climbed on top of Jenny and fucked her. It didn't take long, and he rolled off and went back to sleep.

Jenny and I worked together, and we had an affair -- some days we would go to lunch, other days we'd go back to my house and fuck. One of these times I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth, and when I came into the bedroom Jenny was spread-eagle on the bed. She said, "Fuck me now!"

And I did.

Another time I went to Jenny's house to fuck. Ian loved to hunt, and he and a friend were out for the day trying to shoot fruit bats. I shot my cum into his wife, in his marital bed. Mikki was back in Pago Pago, so as I drove home I knew I wanted the experience of back-to-back women. Our daughter was napping. I undressed Mikki and we fucked on a round sheepskin rug that we had bought in New Zealand.

We thought nobody knew of our affair, but of course everyone knew. Ian decided it was time for them to leave Samoa -- and they returned to England. I think Mikki was the only person in Samoa who did not know I was fucking Jenny, and thankfully nobody told her.

There are a couple of things to say about Tex before we move on. Mikki, and our daughter, saw him again at Honolulu Airport. They were returning to Samoa (and the discovery that all the meals were still in the freezer). He was coming back from the Orient. What are the chances of such a meeting?

I have not thought about Tex for many years, which is probably unfair to him. His brief dalliance with my wife changed our lives. I believe it gave me the oomph to get Ian drunk and fuck his wife. And we discovered the female orgasm because of Tex.

He died of cancer in 2011, age 77. I was surprised to see that he has a Wikipedia page. Wikipedia is the people's encyclopedia, and anyone can make entries. In the "Later Activities" section on his page I am tempted to add "Fucked my wife -- and mother of our 9-month-old daughter -- at the Dixie Dude Ranch in Texas, 1976, using the Tex Position."

I have learned that the Tex Position is usually called the Reverse Wheelbarrow. It requires some degree of athleticism on the part of the man and the woman, so I haven't used it in a long time. My modification, which improves the fucking considerably, is to cross the lady's legs -- her left leg over your left shoulder, and right over right. This narrows the vagina, and the results can be spectacular.

Ride 'em cowboy!

Mikki, our daughter, and I returned to Honolulu in 1979, and I became a specialist in cable TV lending. I left the bank in 1985 when a small venture capitalist in Dallas offered me a lot more money to help him purchase cable TV systems. I tried to convince Mikki to move, with our daughter, to Dallas, but she refused -- repeatedly.

As in 1971 I told her I'd consider us separated and would sample the delights of Texas. Only this time I wasn't a timid 22-year-old but a grown man. I did extensive sampling.

I'd also kept in touch with Heidi -- she was now doing her governess thing in Salt Lake City. I flew her down to Dallas for the weekend and we had chilled champagne. The Swiss, like the British, don't use safety pins.

After some serious kissing on the couch, we moved to the bedroom. She draped over the bed sideways, with her pussy on the edge. I removed her underpants, quickly unzipped and dropped my own pants, and entered her. We had rapid, exciting, delightful sex. Afterwards she climbed under a sheet. I went to get us champagne, and to lose the rest of my clothes. She sat up in bed, and we shared our drinks. I then took off her top and bra. She told me she loved to have her breasts licked. I happily obliged -- I now hold the Gold Medal for Swiss Breast Licking. We fucked again, more leisurely this time. Afterwards, after a cuddle, she politely asked if I could sleep in another room. She said she just didn't like sleeping with men. I obliged. I also woke her in the morning with another smooth fuck.

Around about this time I told a friend of mine, visiting Dallas from New Zealand, about Jenny. He said, "Why don't you give her a call?" I hadn't seen Jenny for six years -- although we'd exchanged Christmas cards. I called her number, hoping it still worked, Ian answered. He told me they had been separated for a year or so. I asked him for her number -- and he surprised me by giving it to me.

. . . to be continued . . .