Paul and Paula - Her Story 02

Doing my homework on Paul, I made sure his then-girlfriend was in class, and Paul was at the library studying. One thing led to another, and boy scout Paul had asked me on a date. We did that back then. I mean the collective we of my generation. Yet, for me personally, dating was a rarity.

Paul took me to this small restaurant away from college. I guess he wanted to keep his options open with his butterfly-in-waiting and didn't want to be seen with someone else. How typically conventional. I didn't know the extent of their relationship, so I decided not to judge him.

"You look familiar," Paul said more than once as we flirted.

"You must have seen me around the campus," I replied coyly.

"I have to be honest. I don't get girls calling me out of the blue without an introduction."

"I'm Paula. You're Paul. Introductions done. Do we need more?"

And for the first time in a while, I devoted myself to getting to know a guy through conversation. He had a typical background from a small town in Massachusetts. Dreams of becoming a journalist and no intent to return home. A familiar story of many young men and women. Like all people when meeting a new prospect, he probably hid parts of his life he thought would not make a good impression. But then I did the same in not telling him how sexually libertine I was in life.

We had eventually ended up at my flat. My roommate had her own room and knew better than to meddle. If anything, she was probably surprised that I had only one guy with me that evening.

While just a bit over the average at six inches and small change, Paul had a decent cock that got me off a couple of times before he blew his load. A cock must be pretty small or very thin for me not to cum anyway. Speaking of blowing, I used my oral superpower to bring him back to life so he could fuck me to a few more orgasms before he had his second.

But the most memorable part of the evening was seeing Paul's handsome face above me as we fucked. Unlike other men, who grimace and strain when they cum, Paul had this almost angelic look to him as he finished. Call me strange, weird, or whatever else, but I think that was when it happened.

It.

That.

In the days to come, I just could not get Paul out of my mind. Lord knows I tried. It scared me that I was obsessing over a man. In between seeing him, I longed for him, missed him, wondered what he was doing, and checked the time to see how long until we met. But it got worse as the sex got better. You know, how as two lovers become more familiar with each other, everything seems better? And then you get those feelings...

As if that was not enough, Paul reciprocated in kind with the way he responded; how in those early days, he stopped seeing his butterfly just to be with me every night. And worse of all. It took me two weeks before I realized that I had not even thought of being with another man other than Paul.

Still, while spending most of our time together, Paul and I had not discussed exclusivity or anything of the sort. In fact, I had seen him and his butterfly bamby together talking while sitting close on a bench. I said nothing to them, but they had seemed cozy, and I did not want to interrupt his moment. Not that I would not have wanted to, but because I didn't want Paul to hold it against me.

But it had bugged me. Not that I saw Paul with his bamby, but the fact that it bothered me. That was the thinking of others, not me. Not Paula. So I moved on and reminded myself that Paul and I had not demanded expectations of each other. No. Not us. That was what other people did. Right?

***

I was finishing up a paper for class when I got a call. There was no caller ID then, so I didn't know who it was.

"Paul?" I replied instinctively.

"Who's Paul?" I heard Frank Jeffers's voice on the other end.

"Sorry, Frank, I thought it was someone else."

"No. Just same-ol me. What's up with you? I haven't seen you for a while."

And here is where one realizes that their old lover was indeed just a friend with benefits, nothing more.

"I'm sorry, Frank, but things have been...."

"Say no more," he cut me off. "So long as you are OK, that's all that matters."

"That's the thing, Frank. I'm not myself. I'm not OK."

"Do you want to come over?" he asked.

"Give me thirty minutes, and I'll be there."

"See you then," he replied.

The paper had been ready to turn in, but I had been obsessing over it. Or maybe it wasn't the paper. Perhaps it was that Paul had a "previous engagement," and I had understood what that probably meant - time between the sheets with his butterfly. And why not? I thought. After all, wasn't I the queen of no commitments and no exclusivity? Why had I even thought of such things between Paul and I?

The sex with Frank was good as always. Frantic even, on my part. It was as if I wanted to exorcise Paul's effect on me by fucking myself on Frank's thick cock.

"Jeez, Paula! What's come over you tonight?"

I had just cum for the umpteenth time and wanted more as I rode my previous professor cowgirl style. Yet I was still not sated by our fucking. Flopping over on my back, I spread my legs for him.

"Fuck me, Frank, fuck me hard."

He looked at me for a second as if trying to figure out what I was about, then gave in to my offer. Frank's thick cock had just been inside me, yet his reentry parted my wonton flesh until he was deep inside anew. My body responded to his thrusts with a mind of its own. I felt the oncoming orgasms I am blessed to attain vaginally and let them wash over me. In the next half hour that Frank pounded and possessed me, I came repeatedly, but I still had something... someone in the back of my mind.

"Just fuck me... harder... do me...."

Poor Frank. He did as I asked, giving me what I needed as he always did, but as usual, he didn't finish himself with me. I often wondered if he reserved that privilege for one of the other ladies he serviced. After a while, I stopped him as I needed a small break.

"Frank, is there a special woman in your life? Someone that you actually cum with?"

His first instinct was to look at me apologetically. Then his expression changed into one that betrayed some sorrow if one knew where to look.

"There is one," he replied with a soft tone -- almost regretful. "Please don't be offended, Paula."

"I'm not Frank," I replied. "We're friends. You can tell me."

"She is a woman I can't have," he replied, looking at the ceiling; apparently, he was somewhere else just then. "I've known her for two years."

"She must be someone special."

"That she is," Frank sighed. "The only woman that can make me cum. Strange, isn't it?"

In that instant, no matter how good-looking I knew I was, no matter how many men lusted after me, I felt inadequate. No matter how many men I had pleased in bed fully, Frank was the one to whom giving the ultimate pleasure eluded me. The eternal question popped to my head to taunt me. 'What does she have that I haven't got?'

"She is married," Frank continued. "Married with two children, Paula."

"Frank, are you? I mean, are you and this woman in love?"

He merely nodded -- not being able to say the words.

"And her?" I asked curiously. "This woman...."

"Karen. Her name is Karen."

"What about her?"

"She loves her husband," he replied. "She won't leave him. He is in the military and gone much of the time."

"Wow, Frank," I said. "The soldiers have a word for you, don't they?"

Garry had told me what soldiers called the mythical universal lover and tormentor of all soldiers: Jodie.

"Yeah, I know it. I was in the service once."

"You were?"

"I was in the Corps."

"The what?"

"The Marines," he clarified.

"I see," I replied.

I wondered if Frank felt guilty about carrying on with a service man's wife.

"And what does she think of you? Does she know how special she is to you?"

"Yes, we both do."

"And?"

"Karen will not break up their family. There is still love there between her and her man. She is torn between us."

"Wow! I replied. "She is in love with two men?"

"Unlike you and I that are in love with just one person," Frank replied.

"What do you mean?" I said defensively.

"Come on, Paula," he scoffed. "I know you well enough. You're in love."

I said nothing as if by staying quiet, I could deny it and keep it from being true.

"So who is this Paul character? You used his name when I called," Frank turned with a knowing gaze. "The way you said his name... it was the way a woman does when she is thinking of a man when he calls. A special man."

I thought of looking away and denying my feelings for Paul, but after what Frank has shared with me, I felt a kinship with him. If anyone could understand where I was with Paul, it had to be a friend in love with a woman he longed for and could not possess.

"I met him three weeks ago," I sighed, letting Frank know of my predicament. "We went out on a date, and...."

"You? A date? I thought that was... how did you put it? 'Basic and conventional?' he smirked.

"OK, Frank. Stop mocking me."

He smiled and waved me to go on.

"I just can't get him out of my head. This... this has never happened to me. I'm like an idiot teenager with a crush."

"I see," he replied with the same slight smile.

"What?"

"You tell me."

I scoffed and gave Frank the finger, to which he laughed. His disarming nature weakened my resolve to keep it all in, and it all came out.

"He is cute, smart, nice, and a decent fuck. I can't stop thinking about him. Like all the time, Frank. What the hell is wrong with me?"

"Is that why you were trying to fuck my brains out?" he chuckled. "To fuck your mind clear of him? This Paul guy?"

"It didn't work, Frank. I mean, can you get Karen out of your head?"

"Touché," he replied, raising an eyebrow with a nod. "So. You're in love. Aren't you?"

***

I tried not to think about it that night. That was and still is uncharacteristic of me. I think about everything. Yet no matter how I tried, my mind kept going back to Paul.

As Frank slept, I quietly got up and dressed. Leaving a thank-you note on Frank's coffee maker, I made my exit and headed home. My flat was not far from Frank's, but I thought a walk would clear my head. Fat chance at that. My thoughts were a jumble of conflicting emotions. Yes, I wanted Paul in my life. But what did that mean? Was I really in love? Was I in love with him? Or had my heart been empty for so long that I was letting anyone in? Was Paul "just anyone?"

Needing the advice of a friend to sort all this out, I ran back to Frank's place and woke him up. He reluctantly put on his shorts and made coffee as I told him all my concerns.

"Paula, unlike my situation where I am in love with someone I can not have, you have options."

"I think that's what's scaring me, Frank," I replied as we waited for the coffee to brew. "I'm drawn to him, and I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Frank, I don't know what my feelings for Paul mean. I don't know why I feel this way for this guy. Yeah, he is handsome. But I know plenty of guys that are. Sure he is nice to me. More so than most men, I guess."

Frank poured us coffee silently as he let me talk. Ever the quintessential psychologist, he knew how to lead me to conclusions about myself without saying much.

"I feel comfortable with Paul," I continued. "Unlike the boys around campus and men who see me as just another fuck, he talks to me and asks me what I think about things. It's not just the flowers he got me or the poem he wrote me, although that made me gush."

"A poem! Really?"

"I know, right?" I replied in disbelief.

"When I first met you, that would have made you barf," Frank said, taking a sip from his mug.

"Frank, he makes me feel special."

"In just two weeks?"

"I can't explain it, Frank, but yes."

"So why the hesitation and consternation?"

"Because... because I know where this is headed. Saying the L-word is a big thing."

"It's not just about saying it, Paula," Frank replied. "Love is not just any word. Many things come with it: commitment, dedication, loyalty, and devotion. And also family. Sharing one's life with another. Having children."

I said nothing as the enormity of all Frank said hit me.

"Children? I'm not even thinking marriage. Don't scare me, Frank."

"You have trained yourself to think of what you want, what is essential for you. Just for you. But your subconscious and the basic instincts have been triggered, Paula."

"What does that mean? Why is this happening?"

"Because life is not just about you anymore. It's about you and Paul. That young man has sparked something deep within you. And you," he smiled, "you are powerless to resist."

"I can't believe this."

"Believe it. What? You thought that coming here would make Paul go away? All you got was a good fucking. That has nothing to do with basic emotions and the connection you and that young man have established."

"Frank, I never thought I would feel that for anyone. I never thought that I would meet someone that would permeate my soul as he does. I mean in just two weeks! Who does that? This is going too fast."

"Then take time. Talk to Paul. See what he thinks. But... I think you need to tell him how you feel."

"What if I scare him? What if he runs off back to his preppy bitch of a girlfriend?"

Frank laughed but still looked at me with an empathetic gaze.

"The sooner you know that he doesn't feel the same way, the better. It will hurt at first, but you are strong and will come out the other side stronger. What's the saying? It's better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all?"

I nodded, trying to process it all, but looking back at that moment, I think it was too late. I was already in love with Paul, and nothing could change that.

"One more thing, Paula," Frank said. "A relationship with someone you love can get in the way of your lifestyle. I know you have dreams of one day being in a marriage similar to the one your two neighbors from home have. But people like them are far and few in between. And both spouses need to be into that lifestyle. Both have to want it. A deep relationship with Paul may test that need you have."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said as I got up to leave.

***

I left Frank's place but did not go back to mine. Instead, I walked to Paul's flat that he shared with another guy from his fraternity. Mustering the courage to walk to the door, I rang the doorbell. Scared that he would have the butterfly in his bed, I had to force myself to endure the long seconds it took for one of the guys to open the door. And when it opened, it was Paul.

"Hi Paula," he said, surprised, looking as he had just gotten out of bed. "Is something wrong?"

"I know it's early in the morning, but I need to talk to you," I replied pensively.

"Let me get dressed," he said, stepping aside. "Come in."

I stood nervously in their small living-room/kitchen area, but Paul waved for me to follow him. I know I was being nosey, but I jealously looked for signs of HER in his room. Evil bamby who wanted Paul -- my Paul. Oh, God! I was being possessive and jealous. What had I become?

"I'm glad you came, Paula," he said. "I was going to come to find you today."

"You were?" I asked nervously. "I thought you were with...."

He shook his head as he took off his t-shirt, making me stare at his abs. Then he took a clean one and put it on.

"No. I was here last night," he said as he smelled his armpits, then smiled apologetically, reaching for a stick of deodorant.

I think he wanted to say something more, but I did not give him the opportunity. Without thinking, I found myself running to hug him. Paul let me then hugged me back.

"I like your smell," I said honestly.

Call it chemistry, or whatever you want it to be, but Paul's taste, scent, and touch made me feel right... comfortable. Something I had not felt with anyone before. Before I could think or speak, Paul reached down and kissed me. My heart skipped a beat as I kissed him back, not wanting the moment to end.

Neither of us said anything as we tore each other's clothes off and came together. I think we were both afraid of what we might say and possibly spoil the moment. Ort maybe we were both trying to hold on to those few last moments of me before there was an us.

Instinctively we kissed and touched, which led to more. Much more. But this was not like any sex I had ever had before. Lost in the erotic haze of sex with someone special, we didn't make it out of Paul's room until noon. And it's a good thing it was Saturday, or we would have missed classes. I could afford to do so, but Paul couldn't as he was having problems with an elective he had left for senior year. Oh, forget that.

Yes. The sex had been fantastic. What happens when you have sex with someone you are falling in love with. And I was... if I wasn't already. There was no denying it. My feelings for Paul were off the chart, purely emotional and not as just a friend. I had lost my sense of logic, mind, and heart to this young man in a way I never thought possible.

When I was with Paul, time seemed to stand still, and I just listened to him talk or relished him observing me attentively as I did. The sound of his voice soothed me. His scent set off arousal that I could not resist. Without thinking, I shoved him back and mounted him. Once his manhood was in me, I rode Paul slowly and deliberately. This was not sex. As I rocked up and down on him, I stared into his eyes and he into mine. And for the first time ever, I knew we were making love.

"Take me, Paul," I whispered. "All of me."

His hands came up to encircle my body, and we kissed and kissed again as our bodies rhythmically began to work together. When I came from his thrusts, it felt so good I cried. And when Paul finally heaved up one last time, I saw it in his face. We both knew.

"I love you," he said, and I melted into his arms.

"Paul, do you mean it?" I asked, gazing into his eyes. And as he smiled and nodded, I showered his face with a thousand kisses, and my tears flowed again. "I love you too."

We held each other tenderly and must have said those three words to each other again and again like idiots. I didn't know if he had ever told them to anyone else. Nor did I care. All that mattered was that he had said so to me. And for the first time in my life, I knew I was in love and had declared my love to someone who loved me back. It was intoxicating.

"Paula, I have to tell you something," Paul said. "I ended it. The thing with Lyn is over."

Her name was Lyn? Strange that the first time I heard her name out of his mouth was after he told me he loved me and that he and Bamby-Lyn were over.

"Over? I'm sorry," I lied, as inside, I was giddy and wanted to cheer. "What happened?"

"What happened?" he scoffed, shaking his head. "YOU happened. WE happened."

I stared into his eyes, too scared to speak. What was wrong with me? I was mesmerized by Paul.

"You stole my heart Paula."

Yet the truth was, Paul had stolen mine.

***

Living on an island on pineaples and love

What happened next was like a dream. The life I knew and had was turned upside down as I was wooed and romanced by Paul. The remaining part of my second semester was spent exclusively with him. Gone were my party outings, multiple men, and wild sexual escapades. My mind was focused on one man: a senior who was about to graduate, with me still having two years to go in UF Gainsville.

We were so in love. I no longer thought as I, as an individual by this point. Instead, I thought of Paul and I together as... us! What would WE do that day? What would WE eat for dinner? Where would WE sleep that night? It was something totally new to me. A surrender of self and the embracing of us as a unit. A couple.