New England Triad Ch. 01

"Stephen, I want you to come in my vagina soon. Can you come twice today?"

"Usually not, Beth. Today I think I could."

"Good," she said and promptly turned the oral stimulation knob up to eleven.

In well under a minute I found myself deep in her mouth and on the edge of orgasm. I decided to pretend I was a gentleman. "Beth, I'm going to come," I warned.

She nodded her head, hummed something that sounded more or less like "Umm-hmm," and continued sucking my penis and gently tugging on my testicles.

The intensity of my orgasm surprised both of us. I had a half dozen strong convulsions that left me breathing hard for a minute afterwards. From the look on Beth's face, I must have ejaculated copiously too. Somehow she managed to keep it all in her mouth, though it took her three swallows to down it all afterwards. After giving me a smile and a quick oral clean-up, she came up, laid herself next to me, and put an arm around me.

"Wow," I said.

"Wow," she replied.

A minute later she spoke again. "While you recharge, you could go down on me a little more."

I could indeed. In fact I always enjoyed cunnilingus, and not only for the great pleasure it usually gave my partner. If there is a lovelier taste than a woman's vaginal lubrication--especially right after her first orgasm, when the secretions suddenly are everywhere--I haven't yet found it. If you prefer grilled porterhouse steak, say, please email me your girlfriend's phone number.

Beth's next orgasm was pleasant enough, though not as earth-shaking as mine. I felt no guilt at that. After all, this was, what?, the fifth I had brought her to today, including the one back at the little bridge. But who's counting?

It was time to make our adulterous affair official. Well, my adulterous affair--I wasn't sure if an unmarried woman qualified for a scarlet "A" or not. To hell with labels, anyway.

I didn't care who started out on top, and Beth wanted to. Fine. If that arrangement was good enough for John F. Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe, it was good enough for the likes of us. Though then it was the guy on the bottom who had the bad back, not the lady on top. Whatever. I wasn't complaining.

In a minute Beth's talented mouth had raised me from tumescent to fully erect. Then she positioned herself above me, cowgirl-style.

"Are you ready?" she asked. Clearly she meant psychologically. Physically, the answer was obvious.

"Very," I said.

And before I had a chance to change my mind--not that I would have--I was inside her lovely, warm. and very moist vagina. Which commenced moving, slowly, up and down. I reached up to fondle those lovely breasts now jiggling as she moved. I brought my left index finger to her clitoris, but Beth moved it away.

"Later, please. Right now everything is perfect."

It seemed perfect to me too. Except for the voice in my head reminding me, "This is a very bad idea." Except for that small voice--which I did my best to ignore--everything did seem surprisingly, amazingly perfect. As though this were the most natural thing in the world, the most perfectly right thing, and why the hell did you put off doing this for so long?

Soon Beth's body was stiffening, her movements becoming jerkier, and she was vocalizing more: "Yes... Yes...." Her finger darted to her clitoris, and two seconds later she was in the throes of a very large orgasm. By now I couldn't remember the count and no longer cared. My penis could feel every good-sized contraction, and I nearly came too. Everything was good and getting better by the second. Beth lowered her chest to mine. I fondled her bottom as we kissed deeply and at length, my penis still inside her.

My excitement was growing, and something else was too: a sense--no, a deep knowledge--of the splendor of this occasion. Splendor in the Grass: wasn't that a movie? And here we were! There was some kind of cosmic rightness to our coupling, and that feeling just kept growing. I wondered if Beth could feel it too.

"Change places?" I proposed.

"Yes."

We did. The missionary position worked just fine. By now, I couldn't focus for long on anything. I was sort of focusing on everything-at-once, if that makes any sense. I was lost somewhere in the universe, and totally at peace, and I had no particular wish to be brought back. On the other hand, I wanted Beth. With all my heart and soul. If there was a contradiction there, I didn't let it occur to me.

I think Beth had another orgasm, but I wasn't lucid enough to tell, or even to ask. I realized I myself was in the midst of an orgasm. I was now inseminating this wonderful, surprising woman, who had led me to a place I did not even suspect existed. And no, it wasn't Andover.

************

Afterwards, back on planet Earth, we sat side by side, our knees drawn up, arms around each other's shoulders, jerseys still on and unzipped. Beth slowly leaked semen onto a Kleenex. To my eyes, we looked charming.

"Tell me what you're feeling," she said.

"God's in his heaven--all's right with the world!"

"Browning, yes. Pippa Passes. See? I too can identify a quote from time to time. You and your fucking Tertullian!"

"Sorry, I said. "Academics are like alcoholics. There's no real cure, and we're prone to relapsing at odd times. I forget that normal people aren't used to us. You probably haven't had sex with a professor since college."

That got me an elbow in the ribs.

"Seriously, Stephen, something important just happened. It was totally thoughtless and illogical, so I won't ask for your thoughts. But will you tell me some more about what you are feeling? The Browning line was a lovely start."

Here any sensible man would have said simply, "I feel wonderful; it was great!" then segued to a passionate kiss. Naturally, I had to give her a closely-reasoned, detailed analysis instead.

"Okay," I said, "I'll try. This is going to be hard to describe. First, on the physical level, sex with you was wonderful. A glow from that still lingers, You are not only a beautiful and fascinating woman, you are a talented and very skilled lover--as you darned well know. Now both of us know."

She gave me a smile and a wink. I went on. And on. "But sex with you today went well beyond the physical. You still want my feelings? They're complicated. Okay, here goes, Seventy percent of me feels that something of great cosmic beauty happened. Is happening. It feels wonderfully, incredibly right. I felt as though I could sense at last how thoroughly I was connected with nature. No: make that, with the other parts of nature. My fellow parts. Am I being too poetic?"

"No."

I stumbled on. "My doubts and second-thoughts never went away. But somehow, beyond them--and beyond the physical pleasure too, and there was plenty of that--there was a peace. A profound sense of peace and, I guess you could say, a sense of the grand harmony of the natural world, of which I was a part. Of which our lovemaking also was a part. Oddly, all this peace and connectedness and harmony began well before my orgasm. My second one I mean. The orgasm itself was lovely, but frankly it couldn't add all that much to what I had already been given.

"This was the most surprising thing to me: how natural it felt, how good, how right. Committing adultery with this near-stranger. This wonderful near-stranger who understood something before I did. Well, shortly before. Four hours ago we hadn't even met.

"I said my orgasm added only a little to the occasion. But the ejaculation somehow felt very meaningful. The physical transfer of some very intimate fluid from my body into yours. Which you accepted with your whole heart and vagina. That was a very precious moment for me, Beth. Not the only one, of course.

"Sorry, Beth. I'm sure that was much longer than you wanted. I never know when to stop. How was it for you?"

Beth's eyes were moist; probably mine were too. At last she spoke. "Stephen, I am beyond words. I am so happy for you. Us. How was it for me? Can I just give you a quick summary and tell you the details some other time? Here's the summary. It was wonderful. But you're not done yet. You told me about the good 70 percent of your feelings, What about the other 30?

I had to pause and think for a few seconds. "The other thirty percent has my rational faculties caught up in it, and there's no way I can disentangle the two. I'm thinking-feeling: this is so fucked up, so unwise, so apt to end in disaster, so absurd--that one was your insight--and why the hell am I doing this? I am cheating on my wife--as most people would put it--doing so deliberately and without a drop of alcohol in my blood to blame it on. And if anyone asked me why, I couldn't begin to tell them. How the hell do I explain this to Ann--or even to myself? Sorry, Beth, I'm an academic. I can't not try to make rational sense out of experience--least of all my own. That's my profession: over-thinking everything."

"Stephen, may I interrupt?"

"Of course."

"All of your misgivings make perfect sense, believe me. I'm guessing that this is the first time your mind has told you one thing and your soul has told you the exact opposite. Welcome down from the Ivory Tower, Stephen, and please stay awhile!

"I'm very glad the soul got the seventy percent. And to me those proportions sound exactly what they should be--for you, for the first time. Our second time, you'll find it more like 85-15. That's about where it was for me today. The third time, you will be 95-5, and at that point you will stop fretting. I'm willing to bet on it. Betcha a spare inner tube?"

"Agreed. Presta valve, don't forget."

"It doesn't matter what you use. I'm going to win this one. But seriously, Stephen... please notice--in what you told me about your feelings--that all of your joy concerns things that actually happened... and most of your regrets concern things that might happen in the future. Or might not."

I was beginning to wish that Beth would stop being right all the time. Ann didn't have that problem.

Looking back on that afternoon, I guess hiding this fling from my wife--the conventional thing to do--somehow never struck me as an option. Not after Ann had told me of her own affair, gently and kindly, two hours after it had started. Eventually I realized that that was the best thing she could have done--apart from not fucking the guy in the first place. It's "lies, secrets and silence" that destroy a relationship, not straying genitals themselves.

Once again, Beth was a step ahead of me.

"You worry about how you can go home and explain things," she continued. "As I see it, you cannot 'explain' this to Ann--let alone to yourself--because no rational explanation could possibly make any sense out of what happened. Let alone justify it.

"But you do not need to explain what happened to Ann because--when you tell her about it--she will understand very well what happened, how it happened, and how you could possibly do such a thing.

"You want a concise summary of what happened to us? 'Swept off our feet' is an old cliche', but that's it in a nutshell. Or "swept away," if you prefer. That's how it got to be an old cliche', right?--because millions of people before us decided that that's a pretty good description of what hit them. Say either version, and Ann will understand.

"Just keep in mind that the sweeping-away began well before that cosmic tidal wave finally crashed down on your head and made you a Believer. I felt the rip tide tugging at our ankles about ten seconds into our first kiss. Before the old man on the three-speed went by, I knew we were goners. Need any more nautical metaphors? Ann would understand 'in over your head,' too."

Once again, Beth was getting a little wound up.

"Look," she continued, "you know that Ann is not an easy lay--at least outside of her marriage. You told me yourself--how surprised you were. What do you think happened to her five years ago? And why do you think she thanked you multiple times for how well you handled her affair but never, ever asked you to 'forgive' her? Well, choose your metaphor. Who could out-struggle a rip tide, let alone a tidal wave?

"Or here's another one. She looked into the eyes of--whoever he was--and suddenly she beheld a burning bush and heard the voice of the Lord. Doubtless it wasn't Jehovah. Gaia, more likely. When the Goddess very clearly tells you how she wants to be worshipped, what are you going to do? Keep your panties on and argue? What's to 'forgive'?

"That's how you happened to join the herd of straying husbands, and both you and I are... okay, 'blameless' is putting it too strongly. Anyway, the story you share with Ann probably should end with your penis entering my vagina. Trust me, by then she will understand how it got there."

By now she was definitely on a roll. I should nickname her "Pastrami." She continued:

"But of course the story doesn't really end at the first penetration. A rip tide or tidal wave never sweeps you just a little bit away from the shore, now does it? And the Goddess never gives you just a tiny little hint that you are in her presence. Never asks that you do her just a tiny little favor.

"First you thansgressed today, and then you really got clobbered. Two separate things, both wonderful. When you got clobbered you felt the unity of the universe: you, me, the grass, the birds, the sun, the rest of humanity.... I'm jealous! You described the classic, textbook-perfect "psychedelic" experience. You brought tears to my eyes, it was so lovely.

"When you finally get home, go into your bathroom and re-read the label on that big bottle of Dr. Bronner's. All that mystical stuff about 'ALL--ONE!' This time it won't strike you as gibberish.

"Now, what are the chances of you forgetting your... technically, I guess it's ecstasy... five years down the road? Or never mind the ecstasy... what are the chances of you forgetting what it's like to be swept off your feet and into some very willing arms?"

"I will never forget this afternoon, Beth. I think you know that."

"I do. Betcha Ann won't forget her afternoon, either--or whatever time of day it was.

"So: when an appropriate moment comes, just tell her what happened today. Tell her how you stumbled across this interesting girl and helped her pump up her tire, and she gave you a kiss, and something went BING! and the next thing you knew you were heavy petting, and the next thing you knew you were fucking, and you have no idea how or why it happened, and neither does the girl, but you can't help feeling that some odd, irresistible force is in control here, and Ann is the one you love and want to be your wife forever, and you just wished you knew what the hell is going on.

"You are welcome to tell her my name if she asks--or if you like--and of course you say absolutely nothing even hinting that in the arms of this girl you had the most intense, profound, mind-blowing sexual experience of your life--one of them, anyway. Besides, I can't even claim credit for that. You can thank the Goddess. And should. I just held you tight so you didn't float away.

"Ann may not admit it at first, but she will understand perfectly well how this happened. Probably she'll understand it better than you do. She's had five years to ponder all those feelings."

By now the circuit breaker at the base of my brain had tripped from overload. "Beth," I said, "I could use a minute to let all this sink in. Could we break for a kiss or two?"

I reached over and fondled a breast, and then her lips came to mine. A long, sweet post-coital kiss. Very different from a foreplay kiss. I savored the experience: not increasing passion leading towards a climax but a sweet plateau of affection and pleasure on which we could skate around for as long as we liked. This was advanced, graduate-level sexuality, and both Beth and I knew what were doing. For once. About two minutes did the trick.

************

"Back to plotting and planning?" my co-conspirator asked.

"Almost done, Beth. Just help me visualize one more thing, if you don't mind. Let's say I do pretty much exactly as you suggested. Then what happens? Obviously, after ten years of marriage, I should be telling you. Can we at least see if our hunches are close?"

Beth was willing to try. We both knew that any woman understands women better than any man does. At least better than I do.

"Okay," she said. "Let me picture her.... What sort of person would want to stay married to you for a decade--poor girl--and also would make you want to stay married to her? Factor in: she has been around the block once or twice. Good news, that....

"All right: you have told her the events of this day.... As I see it, the worst-case scenario is this. Even though Ann well understands how our encounter happened, she relapses into a Biblical mindset of betrayal, sin, and forgiveness. Also, deep down inside, she's scared. After a fair amount of yelling and door-slamming, she forgives you your trespasses, and you promise to behave yourself. That ends our affair, but your marriage is intact. Ann absolutely knows that she owes you one fling--though please don't remind her. She knows. I predict: that is the absolute worst that is likely to happen.

"Now, here is the scenario I would bet on. After a brief period of upset, Ann quickly understands what happened and how it could have happened. Though once again: deep down inside she's afraid. Afraid you will leave her for me.

"Now, this part you'll like. Despite her fears, Ann does not demand that you cease and desist immediately. Though of course that's what she wants. Instead, she crosses her fingers and bets that the affair will soon die out on its own. She knows that a sudden "cease and desist" order will cause pain and some real damage to you. It could damage the marriage. And her upping the ante like that escalates the conflict and so might make you even more inclined to walk out. She sees that the best thing she could do at the moment is de-escalate the conflict, not rapidly push it closer to the crisis. She's right on every count. Smart girl. Of course she knows that she is taking a big risk here and that what she is going to do will not be easy.

"If I'm still in your life two or three months from now, then maybe she'll lower the boom. Or conceivably not, if things evolve in a good way.

"So: the sky does not fall, and you and I get to see each other a while longer, and everybody gets some time to ponder what they want to happen next. I don't know myself how long I want this thing to last, and you don't either. I do want to be with you at least two more times so I can win that inner tube. That's a joke, Stephen! You really can lighten up a bit. In both scenarios, you get off a lot easier than most men would. And I do think the second one is much more likely than the first. This is your lucky day."

"I realized that ten seconds into our first kiss, when you..."

"I know what I did, and I'm proud of myself," she replied, sticking her tongue out at me. Which is pretty close to what she had done at second #10 of our kiss. "My way of trying to warn you about the rip tide. Is it my fault you weren't paying attention?"

"Yes. You distracted me."

But she had gotten serious again. "Stephen, you do know that I do not want to take you away from Ann, right? Not at the moment, anyway."

"Yes. That's good. I want you both."

"You shall have us both. At least for awhile. Speaking of... I want to be clear about something else too. Whatever it is we're doing is new to me too. I don't know how to do this any more than you do.