Nora - Embracing an Erotic Life Ch. 02

Before We Met: College and Beyond

Several nights after Nora described for me her sexual activities with her first lover, David, during her eighteenth summer, she explained she had other memories to share with me; these would be selected experiences because there were only a few worth sharing in terms of what they meant to her. She explained she had sex with quite a few different boys and men during her undergraduate years, and enjoyed most of it, but there were few passionate episodes or meaningful experiences. During that time, she said, she learned more about what men wanted and needed and the different ways they went about pursuing it and she learned how, when it seemed right, she could satisfy her own needs while also satisfying theirs.

"There are two experiences from my undergraduate years I want to share with you, James, and then a third much longer and very unusual erotic relationship I was involved in while pursing my Master's and writing my thesis. That third one will take more time, and more courage on my part, to reveal to you.

"I also had two internships while an undergraduate, one in Kansas City at a large business firm and one in Chicago at an upscale department store. In both I tried always to dress in a tasteful way, demonstrating my seriousness and my ambition. At the same time I dressed and moved so that the shape of my young body always was apparent, especially my breasts and my ass of which I was very proud at that point. Those internships involved a lot of walking from one office or work area to another, carrying files or escorting visitors to an office, or some other routine assignment. I wanted to draw attention to myself and I often succeeded. Many times when I would be leaving an office or just walking down a hallway I would give a quick glance over my shoulder to observe a guilty look on the face of a man who obviously had been watching me walk away from him. Usually the man would look away, realizing I recognized he had been gazing at me and why.

"This behavior, or its equivalent, so often repeated, reinforced my awareness of my power to provoke interest, perhaps nascent desire, even in influential and respected older men. I grew comfortable with this, then gradually found myself turned on by it. In fact, during some frustrating times in college, when I masturbated I often fantasized about having sex with a distinguished older man, someone who knew how to please me and to introduce me to sexual episodes beyond my prior experience. James, perhaps this is still another factor accounting for my temptation to accept a relationship with an older man, Adrian Benton, now ten years later.

"During these college years I began to realize I had at least mild exhibitionist tendencies. Often, when I would go to a party on campus, to events at the Art Institute itself, or to gallery openings in Chicago, I would make it a point when I dressed, or during my first trip to the powder room, to remove my bra. I liked knowing that when they looked at me men would notice the shape of my breasts and my nipples. I also usually wore no panties under the tight short skirts I often wore and I liked feeling eyes on me as I walked. I liked imagining what those men were wishing for. When I went to the fitness center at the School, I began to dress more provocatively than most of the students and staff who were there, knowing that my body was more alluring than most others around me. Perhaps I just was needing to feel sexual in a time when I often was not experiencing satisfying sex.

" James, you know I still have that power and I enjoy using, not just when we are at the gym but more often at public events and even during the work day around the law firm. And I like telling you in the evening who I noticed watching me that day or evening and whether I had welcomed his stare. Remember, I told you nearly two years ago I first noticed Adrian Benton was often watching me. At first his looks were furtive but then they gradually became more obvious -- and longer and more intense. So it is not so surprising to me he asked to meet with us and has proposed that he become my lover. He certainly still likes to look at me when out and about.

"During this same time, my freshman and sophomore years, I was working through some other issues of my own. I had come to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago because I thought I could have a career as an artist. But by the end of my freshman year I concluded I did not have the talent or the imagination or the drive to be an artist at a level of success that would satisfy my ambition. I did not want to be a starving artist. So over the next year and beyond I transitioned from being a painting major to art history with a minor in arts organizations. I hoped I would be able to use a knowledge of art history, art theory and contemporary arts organizations to pursue a career as a critic or teacher or consultant or curator or sgallery manager that in some way would keep me in the art world--but not as an artist. Any art I would make would be for my pleasure not for my career."

"As you know, James, when I graduated from the Institute School I went on to a master's program at the Kellogg School at Northwestern where I specialized in non profit management with a focus on arts organizations and I wrote my thesis on the financial condition of private and non profit art galleries in Chicago. The thesis experience gave me a good familiarity with the art galleries here and the people who own and operate them."

After those comments Nora turned to me to describe one of her "meaningful" sexual relationships from her undergraduate years.

" James, I am going to show you images I have kept from nearly a decade ago. These were taken during the summer after my sophomore year at the Art Institute School. They may surprise you. They were taken five or six years before we met. Look for as long as you like. If you want to know more I will tell you later who took the photos and what led to them."

Nora had these images on a thumb drive connected to our desk top computer and was going to mirror them on the large television screen in our study. We settled back to watch. I quickly became deeply absorbed in and aroused by the images my wife was finally sharing with me.

Nora appeared younger than when we first met. She was stunningly beautiful in the first photo. I studied it very carefully trying to read into it what she was like then, what she was feeling as the photo was taken. Her hair was lighter and cut shorter than I have ever seen it. She seemed a bit slighter than when I met her years later. She looked happy and relaxed, enjoying being photographed, perhaps because she liked the photographer. She was leaning back in a lounge chair wearing a tiny white bikini. She was very tan, every part of her body I could see. One end of a swimming pool was in the background. Behind the pool was a low building, perhaps a cabana of some sort. "You were very beautiful, Nora. Very sexy too! Nothing surprising for me in that. "

"I'm glad, James. I felt beautiful and sexy at the time. You already know I favor white bikinis. You have always liked them on me."

In the second photo she had removed her top, her left arm crooked to cover her breasts. I looked longer at this one, wondering what her intentions were in posing like this and what she was remembering as we viewed these photos, me for the first time. Why had not she shared them with me earlier?

The next photo amplified those questions for me. She was in the same place but her arms were by her side and her breasts were uncovered, her pale nipples surrounded by her aureole, a deeper pink. She again appeared to be happy and comfortable.

In the next photo the bottom of the bikini also had been surrendered; to whom I wondered. One of her hands covered her sex as she reclined in the lounge. I was becoming more aroused by the photos and by anticipating what might come next, wanting to learn how far she would go. What was she thinking now about these photos--and about the photographer? She appeared relaxed, clearly complicit in whatever was going on in the photo session. Pleased by it. I could not resist asking the question that now preoccupied me. I looked her in the eye. "Who was the photographer, Nora?"

"Not now, James. Just enjoy the photos. I can tell you do." I saw her looking down at the bulge in my pants. "We will talk about them later," she said. "Consider these an overdue gift from me, I hope a timely one for both of us."

In the next photo she was entirely naked. The back of the lounge had been lowered so that she was almost flat on her back. I noted another difference. Unlike in the other photos, here it was apparent her body was covered with lotion; a small plastic bottle was next to her. Did the photographer spread the lotion on her back while she lay on her stomach and then on her front when she turned over for him. Did she ask him to spread the lotion just to feel his hands on her? I asked her, "Nora, are you going to tell me who helped you with the sun tan lotion?"

"You will learn in awhile,James. I was trying for an all-over tan that summer. Maybe I will try again this summer. Maybe you can help with that."

Her left knee had been raised and was leaning slightly to the left, openly displaying her sex. There was hair around her pussy but the lips and slit were very visible. "Nora, these are incredible. I have so many conflicting thoughts seeing you like this and imagining what this experience meant to you. I want to know all of it."

The next photo was nearly the same but both knees were up, her feet flat on the lounge and her legs spread apart. Inspiring sexual lust was her obvious aim in this photo, but who was the audience in her mind? Was this only for the photographer (I assume a man) or for someone else, for others even? Her expression here was less relaxed; perhaps the demands from the photographer were taking her further than she wanted to go. Or perhaps provoking his hunger was her only motive, to arouse him and then reward him.

The next photo moved her even more in that direction. She was touching herself, one finger resting, or perhaps moving softly, on her clit. This was more than I could stand. I wanted the lights to be off so that Nora could take out my cock and stroke it and tell me about these photos while I watched her younger very sexual self. I whispered to Nora, "I can't help myself. These photos are so erotic. I wish you could touch me now."

"Stay calm if you can. James, what have you been thinking about these photos so far?"

"My emotions are in turmoil, Nora, to see your sexual self from before we were together. They make me wish I had known you then. They are a bit frightening in their rawness, in your sexual power. Obviously you were aware of it and exploiting it. I'm disappointed I have not seen these images before and wondering why you have not shared them. I want you to tell me what you were feeling and what I should think of them, how I can better understand your younger self, whether you had changed by the time you were first with me."

"James, do you wish you hadn't seen them? Do you resent me for sexual things I did before I knew you? I want to show you these images now as one more way to stimulate ourselves, to find our way back to the sexual intensity we used to feel. I hope they will increase your desire for me and suggest to you my potential to fulfill some of your fantasies. I want them to be a catalyst for our desire for new sexual experiences. Does that seem naive and misdirected, James?"

I told her I would need to think more about the photos as I learn more about them. "Nora, I find it almost unbearably arousing and a bit intimidating to see your strong sexuality as a younger woman. I believe I will want to look at the photos again and again."

After a few minutes of quiet, Nora asked me, "James, as you are thinking about all this, do you want to see more photos from that time? Right now? Do you think you can stand it?"


"What are they like, Nora? How are they different?"

"They are better or worse, depending on how you feel about these first ones. Just know they are stronger, more intimate. You can see them, or not. Or chose another time. "


"I want to see more."

"James, I have been reconsidering these photos for awhile, about whether and when to share them. I hope seeing them will generate sexual arousal in both of us. They always do for me, when I look at them again. I don't do it often but I want you to know I have looked at them several times since we have been together. I want you to understand there were times before I met you when I had good sex; sometimes I initiated it as is the case with these photos I am showing you now. Sex for me then was sex without love, sometimes without even affection, though as in the case with these photos there was a good deal of affection. Often I just wanted pleasure and excitement. It was easy for a woman who looked like I did to find an attractive sexual partner whenever I wanted one. I was very selfish at times. Sometimes I used men the way men often use women. You should understand this about me.

"I realize I am taking a chance in showing you these photos, James. They might do the opposite of what I hope--they could foster misunderstanding and mistrust. I concluded after our first conversations about a relationship with Adrian, it's worth the risk."

She began to show me another series of photos.

"There aren't very many of these, James, but they are very strong. They were taken a few weeks after the first set."

In the first photo Nora was standing in front of the building seen earlier in the background. A different bikini, dark green, the color I most like to see her in now. In the second photo she is standing in the same place, this time nude, smiling, striking a kind of flirtatious pose. Enjoying herself.

Then an interior shot. In the middle of the space some sort of bed, perhaps a futon. Nora is sitting on the edge of the bed. She has her hands under her breasts, cupping them, offering them. Then in a similar photo, she is clearly pinching her nipples. Perhaps she is teasing as she talks to the photographer. Is it the photo or the photographer most on her mind?

Then a couple of photos with a very different tone. She is on the bed and on her stomach, twisting her head around to try to see the photographer but not far enough to meet his gaze as he shoots the photo from behind her. Then another of Nora on her stomach but this time her legs are spread wide. We don't see her face. She is looking straight ahead, passive, as though the only purpose is to display her sex. The camera is much closer and at a lower angle, providing a clear view of her pussy and her puckered other hole. I swallowed and blinked. What had this been about? Who wanted these photos? Did she ask for them? Was there a larger audience intended?

Then a photo of Nora on her back, her legs spread wide again, but here she is a young woman actively engaged, inviting, waiting, a look of need, even impatience on her face.

The next photo again very different, this one entirely of her face. I recognized the expression. Flushed. Spent. Sweat on her forehead and cheeks, above her upper lip. From effort. But euphoric. Exhaustion mixed with satisfaction after good sex. A shy smile, maybe even a bit of sadness for something so perfect being over. That's what I read into the photos. But I was not fully confident, hoping she would tell me, give meaning to all of these images. Or was I hoping she had forgotten their significance.

Then a photo taken at the same time looking down at her. Her whole body sprawled, glistening with perspiration. Her hair in disarray. Unconcerned with how she looked. No pose or tease here, something finished now, more than satisfied, satiated. Not smiling but a hint she is pleased with herself -- and presumably her lover. Her pussy lips red and swollen.

A final photo of a man below the waist. He has an erection. Dark hair around his cock. Big balls. Muscular thighs. Most shocking to me at first: dark brown skin. I look at Nora. I am trying not to weep--not out of jealousy or fear but in frank admiration at the eroticism of the photos and the pleasure they reflected. Also a moment of doubt. I asked myself, have I ever meant as much to my wife sexually as he did then? Could I ever? Have I understood her to the extent I have supposed? I could not deny the sheer sexual beauty of the photos or Nora's good and brave intentions in showing them to me, even now.

Nora looked at me, deep into my eyes. I wondered, did I want to know more about my wife before we met, or maybe less? I wasn't sure. Suddenly I wished I had intimate photos with one of my early girlfriends to show her, to balance what she had just shared with me.

"Would you like for me to tell you about this James? I will if you want to know."

I asked her to wait for a few minutes, to let me settle a bit. We waited. Then I nodded, yes. "Tell me. Help me understand."

She began."Those photos were all taken the summer I was 20 after my second year at the Art Institute School. I was living at my family's house in Kansas City. My parents were on the coast of Maine with friends for the whole month of July. I was taking two history courses at the University of Missouri in Kansas City to reflect my change in major from Painting to Art History. I was free most of the time every day, reading beside the very private small pool behind our house. I was working on my tan. I was bored and restless. I was horny. Very horny.

"On the first Tuesday I was there alone a young man came to clean the pool and the deck and the cabana. The first time I simply watched him from my lounge chair. James, he was the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. Handsome face, flawless coffee colored skin, slim but strong body, big beautiful smile. A hint then of the professional athlete he was to become. If I mentioned his name you would know it. I won't.

"Through my sunglasses I noticed him glance at me several times as he worked. I sat up and then slowly stood up to rub sun lotion on my arms and legs and stomach. I was tempted to ask him to help with that, maybe on my back, but I did not that first time. I should have, just to make something happen.

"The next Tuesday I was again sunning, waiting for him. I was lying on my stomach but with my top off, on the ground next to me. As he walked by I asked him if he would spread some lotion on my back. He paused, quiet, but finally responded, 'If you wish.'

"He was very tentative and careful as he spread the lotion on me, but I could tell his hands were large and strong. I was feeling daring. I turned over and stared at him. I asked him if he liked looking at me. He looked me in the face to see if I was somehow making fun of him. Then he looked at my breasts, then back at my face. Finally, 'You are very beautiful.'

"So are you," I said to him. "As handsome as anyone I have seen. I hope we will become friends while I am here this summer."

'If you wish,' he said again.

"I boldly told him then I would like to kiss him and put my arms around him. I said we could go inside the cabana if he was shy or afraid we would be seen. I explained I was lonesome, here for the summer but without friends, my boyfriend in California. This last point was a ruse. I wanted him not to worry about anyone else creating problems for us. I was ripe and eager for sex with him, James. So we did kiss and he held me tight against him and it felt good and then I took his hands and moved them to my breasts and asked him to touch my nipples.

"It was very sweet, James. I didn't do more than kiss him and let him fondle my breast that day but I told him I looked forward to seeing him the next week and I had a favor to ask of him. "

'What is it?'