Paul and Paula - Her Story 02

"Damn it Paul! I won't break," I admonished him. "Don't baby me."

"Paula, I'm trying. I just can't do what you ask."

Slow, gentle sex was better than no sex. So we did it Paul's way. Although I think he tried to be a little more forceful. But not by much. After he fell asleep, I furiously rubbed my clit and jammed my two fingers in my cunt until I came. And ten minutes later, I did so again. Paul never stirred.

After another gentle quickie, Paul went to work the following morning while I got ready for classes. On the way to classes, the fuck urge returned, and I knew then. Walking to Frank's empty office, I walked past the room he was lecturing in. Then I left him a note telling him not to make plans for lunch - that I needed him again.

And that became my new schedule for the day. Evenings and mornings were for Paul and I. Lunchtime would be reserved for Frank to meet my needs. And that would be the arrangement until my last month of pregnancy. Frank would fuck me one last time the day before my water broke in the middle of the night. The night little Patty, Patricia Donnely was born. Our daughter.

***

After I gave birth, I was not in any shape or inclination to have sex. Strange how quickly that changed. I didn't have postpartum depression as some moms do. At least there was that. And I didn't want to breastfeed. It hurt my nipples too much, and using formula would be easier for Paul to feed the little munchkin when I was asleep. And I slept a lot. I mean a lot.

I could tell Paul was horny by the first month after Patty came to the world. At first, the needs of the baby and my body recuperating prevented me from helping him out. He eventually asked when I would be able to have sex again. I had been blowing him for a week, but apparently, that was not cutting it. To be honest, I was still not that much in the mood for sex and wasn't giving him my best.

"I am not ready for fucking yet," I replied, much to his disappointment.

Then I had an idea.

"The front office is closed for repairs, Paul," I smirked. "But the back gate is available."

I could see the wheels turning as he contemplated his options.

"Unless you just want some head."

"OK, I guess we could try it. Have you done that before?"

I was surprised as that was the first time he had ever asked me about my sexual past.

"Would it be a problem if I said I had?" I replied. "I did suggest it some time ago."

"Yeah, you did. I just thought...."

"Sorry, Paul," I said, reaching out and embracing him. "I don't have a single virgin hole to offer."

He smirked at that.

"I'm not trying to judge you, Paula."

But I wasn't convinced. I knew the thinking of his preppy crowd. Women like how I had been were sluts and whores to them.

"Let me ask you something," I replied. "The first night you and I had sex, you knew I was experienced and not a virgin. Didn't you?"

Paul nodded silently.

"I wasn't one of the virgins you deflowered in your preppy crowd, Paul. Were you disappointed?"

He seemed nervous at my knowledge of his sexcapades.

"You know about that?" he asked. "How?"

"Well, girls talk, Paul. And it was no rocket science confirming it. The preppy sorority girls you dated bragged about how you were gentle on their first time. How do you think you got so much traffic in your bed?"

His ego got the best of him as he smirked.

"Paula, I knew you were... experienced," he said, looking away. "I just wondered what it would be like with...." He stopped.

"With a girl like me? Someone not as discriminating as your inexperienced conquests?"

"That was it at first, Paula. I mean, you came after me and all. But I had heard of you."

"Well, Paul. You got to drive the used car. Why did you stick around?"

"Because I fell in love with you. And to be honest, I was tired of having to play teacher with these girls. Most of them are terrible at sex. If they give you any. Even after you pop their cherry, they cock-tease and make you earn it by doing things for them. It's almost like prostitution."

We laughed at that and started touching each other.

"Well, Paul, you got a few cherries. Not mine, but you won't wonder what it's like. But think of this. If you decide to make a delivery in the back office, I'll be taking your virginity in a way. Think you can handle that?"

I knew we were in business from the eager look he gave me. And just like that, Paul became an ass man. At least for a while.

And not just any assman. In the real surprise of the evening, Paul did not just shed his aversion to anal sex. He also showed no signs of Madona Syndrome. Not in the least.

Being it was our first time, I wanted to make sure Paul was not turned off and not come back for seconds. So I took the time to have an enema to clean myself back there before we tried anything as I took a shower. Then I taught Paul the art of preparing a woman for anal with lube and fingers coaxing her rosebuds to relax and open.

Paul was apprehensive at first, but I persevered and helped him understand how anal play can be very satisfying for a woman. And also for him once he got inside. To dissuade his fears of it being messy, I explained how I had used an enema to make sure I was clean for him. I also had a condom for him to use if he felt the need. Paul thought about it as I was lubing his cock and decided to go bareback. I thought he would.

"Paula, you have done so much more with other guys than I have," he said with a gaze that spoke of conventional and judgemental thinking.

"Oh, is that so?" I retorted. "Just how many virgins did you have along the way? That was your specialty, right? Do them and then move to the next?"

I wasn't going to let him off easy, after that judgemental wisecrack. I had a lot of work left to get my future husband to shed his basic upbringing.

"A few, I guess."

"I'll make a deal with you Paul," I said, taking his face in my hands. "I won't look down at you for popping virgin cherries then moving on to the next one, and you don't look down at me for having had men before you. How's that?"

"Deal," he replied, and that was that.

Paul needed instruction and encouragement, but eventually, he became adept at anal sex and even lost his aversion to giving me a hard fuck. A month after that first night of anal, the doctor cleared me to have vaginal sex. The response from paul was unbelievable.

I could not believe that he was the same man who had Madona complex during my pregnancy. The baby did get in the way at times. They spoil a good sex session with their needs and demands, but one can't fault them for it. They are helpless without their parents, and all the poor things can do is cry when they are hungry, need changing, or need some attention and love. And they are so cute!

We never faulted little Patricia, Patty, for crying when she needed us. She was a source of much joy and happiness. So much so that I started to have ideas about another one. I had lost a couple of weeks of classes, but the professors gave my work to other students of their teaching assistants to bring to me. One even recorded his lecture and sent it to me to hear on a cassette player. So I was back on track academically.

A woman in our building watched Patty for me as I went back to classes. Not all of them, unfortunately. So I had to miss some days and some of my group work meetings, but I managed to pass all my courses and keep a semblance of a high GPA.

Unfortunately, I no longer carried the 4.0 of my first two years. Still, a 3.68 was not that bad while juggling a newborn that I gave birth to that semester. I was surprised that it didn't bother me as much as I thought it would. A 4.0 was nice to have, but nothing remotely compared to my daughter -- our daughter.

Things were well for Paul, Patty, and I. The baby was healthy, Paul was working as a reporter, and I had gotten through my junior year just fine. But I was thinking of the future. Once I graduated, Paul planned on applying for work in Jacksonville. A classmate of Paul's worked there and was confident he could get Paul a job. But I worried about the newspaper employee benefits. One does that when they have a child.

Paul and I would be married after I graduated, but by then, I would no longer be on my father's generous health plan, which had paid for the pregnancy and delivery bills. Paul and I had talked about having another child then stopping at two. After the second child, I would wait until they were old enough for daycare for me to start working. By my reckoning, the faster I had both children, the sooner I could return to work. That meant having another child while I was at the university before we married and moved.

The big question was daycare for Patty. The woman in our building was unsure she could handle it, so I called my mother and explained my predicament.

"I'll pay for it," mom said before I even asked. "Find a reputable daycare center and send me the billing information. I'll pay the monthly bill."

"Mom, I'll pay you back. I promise."

"No. It's on me. That's my first grandchild. And if you have another, they will probably be the only ones your father and I will ever have."

"Why do you say that?"

There was a slight hesitation on mom's side of the call.

"Paula, your brother... Bill is gay."

"What!"

"He told us last month.

"But Bill had girlfriends. You caught him having sex with Jenny Alvarez upstairs!"

"Well, that was then. Bill said he was... trying it out. He wanted to make sure by doing a girl. Never mind that. So he is gay and doesn't ever want kids. So you and Paul are our only hope for grandchildren. So I'm going to pay for your childcare and won't take no for an answer."

Trying to digest the new information about my brother, I wondered what I had missed. Bill had never shown any feminine or gay tendencies around me. The guy was a jock. A chip off the old block as far as dad was concerned. I guess we had all been wrong, and it had taken Bill going to college to figure it out, or maybe sooner. Making a mental note to get in touch with Bill, I thanked mom, and we finished our conversation.

Paul was uncertain about us having another child right away. The usual questions about if I could handle a child, pregnancy, and my last year in college I answered one by one. What did not come up in the conversation was my sex drive during pregnancy. And this was another reason why I had wanted to have another child so quickly.

Knowing the pregnancy-induced high sex drive was highly likely and Paul's Madona Syndrome reaction to my pregnancy, I knew I would most likely need Frank's services again. The last thing I needed was for me to have to find a man to provide me with hard sex during pregnancy in a new town - sex by a man other than my husband, of all things.

Some may think that was easy, but I had been with enough men to know that most were not like Frank or Garry. Jerry was a close third, but the chances of finding one of them in a new town were slim. As the saying goes 'one has to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince.' In my case, Frank was a known entity and willing to help. And I planned to tap into his friendship and the benefits that came with.

With everything planned, all that was left for Paul and I was to get yours's truly pregnant again. I'll say this about Paul, all it took was a week-long vacation to Key West, and the deed was done. Once again, I missed my period and spent a month-plus with morning sickness -- which was not always in the morning.

That fall, I returned for the last time to classes for my senior year. And once again, I was pregnant and horny as hell. I once again aced my courses, managing another 4.0 GPA semester. Having patty in daycare took a load off my mind to focus on school. And once again, noons were spent on Frank's office couch.

Having warned him that I would need his services again, he bought that well-needed furniture second-hand and delivered it to his office for our carnal comfort. By the time I was ready to deliver baby Ben, Frank and I had put it to good use time and time again. Frank had turned out to be not just a lover and a teacher, but hands down my best friend during my college years. He understood my needs and my intentions to marry Paul after my graduation. Frank never denigrated Paul or asked me to leave him. In the end, he wished me well as I prepared to leave college and move on with life.

Paul and I got married, then moved to Jacksonville a month after graduating. No time for a honeymoon. Paul had started work there the week before I arrived with the kids and a truck full of our stuff. I have to say, my mom and dad outdid themselves by cosigning on the mortgage of our new home in a suburban subdivision.

"It's not for you two," my dad said to Paul and I. "It's for my grandchildren."

I love my dad and mom. Seeing them together again was a load off my mind. They needed each other. I tried to get in touch with my brother, but he distanced himself from all of us. We had tried to be understanding after his coming out, but I guess he wanted his own life on his own terms... without us. It hurt all three of us that we didn't see him again until he graduated and joined the Navy as an officer.

Bill and I kept missing each other over the years. But eventually, we would meet and talk. And his conversation would be very influential in my future decisions.

***

Early Marriage years

And thus, our life began where our family would live for decades to come. We moved into a three-bedroom house with hardly any furniture at first. But as time passed and Paul got promoted, we did a bit better. Furniture, better cars, and an occasional vacation.

Once again, Paul shed the sexual timidity he had exhibited during both my pregnancies. Once again, our sex life was satisfying, although not as frequent as it had been. So I never felt the need to step out on Paul. I tried my best to have the children fed and in bed early so my husband and I could have time to ourselves. And during the first two years, we did.

But somewhere along the way, Paul became less interested. I tried to get him to talk about what was wrong, but my husband was evasive. "It's just work." "I have things on my mind." "I can't talk about the articles and my sources."

Quite often, the first time I would find out what he had been working on was when his articles hit print. And often, the topics were what one would call "hard life." Stories of crimes, abandoned children, domestic violence, drug abuse, and other social woes pieces could easily make Paul surly.

Wanting Paul to relax with us away from the work stress, I took care of the kids, our home, and bills. In doing so, I thought we would work as a team sharing our life together. But as time passed, I was more relegated to supporting Paul and not in the know of his work life. While I still asked, he deflected any discussion of his work with me.

For a time, I wondered if Paul was having an affair. If he was, he was very good at covering up and not leaving a trail for me to follow. Other than the slackening of our sex frequency and his unwillingness to talk about work, that is.

Paul seemed more comfortable talking to our next-door neighbor Gil as time passed. Gil Tucker was older than us by some years, but his wife Lynn was a few years younger, closer to Paul and me in age. So our relationship morphed into the guys' group and the girls' group.

Gil was as tall as Paul, lanky with sandy-colored hair. He was attractive physically, but something about him told me that if push came to shove, he would fuck me but look down at me for giving him the opportunity. By this point in life, I had gained enough experience to spot guys like him. There were probably many in college, but I never gave them much thought.

But after becoming involved with Paul, I noticed the type. Guys that would ogle me, wishing they had a crack at my tight body and full tits even though they knew I had a man. They would often stare at me in full view of Paul in the room without thinking my husband may see and know. Guys like Gil were typical, whether at neighborhood parties, events at Paul's job, or even when visiting our homes. They were good for boosting a girl's ego but rarely more than that; especially Gil, as Paul had developed a close friendship with him.

It's silly to think about now, but there is a reality to male-female relationships that most men and, sadly, some women do not fathom. Men believe they seduce women with their charm, physique, personality, and possessions. Yet it is us women who attract and seduce men with our looks and ways. And it is we women who decide if these men will enter our life and in what form.

I can cut a man off with just a glance early on upon meeting him if I so chose. And so do most women. Yet if a man appeals to me and has possibilities, I give him a simple smile denoting a "possibility" for him to consider. How he handles himself is the test. Men "think" that they are seducing me, but in reality, I merely let them try to convince me they are worthy. And that goes for any woman, not just me.

And just as a woman can let a man who has earned it into her life, so does she cut him off or relegate him to back-up status if he stops being that special man to her. And yet other men have attributes of one kind or another that we women want in our lives. Traits like wit, wisdom, humor, loyalty, friendship, or sexuality can qualify. And a man can be part of our life even if we have a husband or someone we love.

***

Jacksonville, 1990

Gil was handsome and looked younger than twenty-eight when we first met him in 1985, the year we moved next door to him and Lynn. The four of us had hit it off, and pretty soon, they were our best friends. But I always saw Gil as Paul's friend and Lynn's husband. Nothing more. In a different life, our neighbor may have been a one-night stand or an occasional lover. But something about him told me never to cross that line, and thus I never did. Nor did I ever trust him fully.

It was different with Lynn. She and I clicked early on, chatting and sharing things the way women do. Yes, she was Gil's wife, and as such, I was careful what I revealed to her about my past life. Paul and I may have had decided not to pester each other about our sexual pasts. But Lynn was likely to share what I revealed to Gil, who most likely blab it to Paul. So I was cautious. Lynn, on the other hand, was not.

"All he cares about is his science work and his computers," Lynn complained to me about her husband. "We are still young. We should be out having fun while we can still enjoy life."

"Have you talked to him about it?" I asked, to which Lynn scoffed.

"Until I'm blue in the face. Gil dismisses it by saying maybe next week. I have a deadline, or we're close to a breakthrough. But every day, we seem further apart. I'm lonely and bored, Paula. You have kids to keep you busy. We don't. Gill doesn't think it's time yet."

Lynn and Gil were older than us, I thought. If not now, when would they be ready?

***

Time had passed, during which I had gotten the kids from the baby and toddler phases to preschool. With Paul mostly at work, it was left to me to take care of them. I thought of daycare for them and going back to work, but Patty and Ben had developed issues that daycare would not handle. Our Ben refused to talk until he was three. And Patty kept getting into fights with kids when we had her in daycare. So I stayed home and cared for them, doing what I thought was best at the time.

Lynn, by contrast, worked and still pestered Paul for children. It was 1990, and Lynn was then twenty-nine. An age I had not reached yet to understand the meaning of coming closer to the dreaded "thirty" milestone. A time when women question their status in life and take stock. The dreaded question: 'is this all there is?'