Research and Analysis - Crossover 05

Research and Analysis

Crossover #5

I didn't see Decker for several days. We swapped texts...texts not sexts...and he a) regretted that he couldn't be with me b) complained about the agency's demands on his time c) was grateful his classes were so easy, and d) was sad because his mother was still having trouble with her rehab. My texts back were basically: a) I Love you (heart emoji), b) I love you so much (happy face with hearts in its eyes emoji, c) I love you (with the ASL hand sign for same emoji) and d) I love you (with all three emojis included). I'd mix them up but that's the best I could do. I had a lot on my mind, not the least of which was how I was ever going to do some fucking with Decker if I never got to see him.

Tanya and Gladys were both busy, June/Juliette of course was out of town, my vibrator froze up on me--it's really no good as a stand-alone dildo--and I was getting cramps in my fingers from masturbating. In a word, I was HORNY!

Well, the night came. Decker showed up at about 7:30PM, by which time I had already eaten. He said he wasn't hungry but would like a cup of tea, which I fixed him forthwith. Decker sat at the kitchen table, mug of tea in front of him; I sat on the chair opposite him, with my legs crossed, bobbing one leg. He seemed calm; I didn't.

"Decker, my sweet, I have an idea," I said, trying not to sound impatient, "LET'S FUCK!"

The startled Decker spilled his tea, looked at me as if he had taken a sniper's round, and mouthed some words that were in coherent to me...something like, "Wha..wa...wh..ah". What can I say, subtlety is not my strong suit.

I let Decker stay in his "loop" for a few seconds and said, "Decker! I said let's F-U-C-K!"

I got up, got a towel, wiped up his spilled tea, took his mug away from him, and took him by the hand. Leading him to the bedroom was pretty much the same operation as coaxing a toddler to bed. I had to be affirmative but gentle, rather hard to do after my assertive declaration as to what I expected we do in said bedroom. I sat him down on the edge of the bed.

"Where did all THIS come from, Lin?" Decker gasped, "did the LGBTQ revoke your 'L' status? I mean blowjobs are one thing but...."

I was quick to say, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth...and that's from the horse's mouth!"

"Are you sure, Lin? You know...." he struggled for words, "you know...the...er...'baby' thing?"

I pointed to the box of condoms prominently displayed on the night stand, "We've, got it covered, Decker, LITERALLY!" I tried not to appear smug.

I was on my knees in front of him, slipping his shoes and socks off, when he said, "Are we being a little hasty, here? I mean, shouldn't we have some 'foreplay', or something?"

I said, well, ordered, "Get those pants off before I cut you out of them and that shirt...If you pop a few buttons, I couldn't care less!"

Resigned to the situation, Decker got naked. Since I was only wearing an XL sport jersey, with nothing on underneath, and barefoot, I was naked in nano-seconds. We embraced...well...I embraced him and using leverage that would put a pro wrestler to shame, I tumbled him and me into the bed. I landed on top of him, my legs astride his waist, almost sitting on his cock. I could feel that my vagina was wet but I sensed his cock hadn't come to life yet.

"So, what's up with 'Mr. Happy' down there," I jibed, "has he taken the night off?"

Still catching his breath, Decker said, "Mr. Happy, as you call 'him' is surprised and stunned that 'he' is in bed with somebody who wants to 'him' to take care of her without due notice or preparation. Isn't that right 'Mr. Happy'? Let's slow this down a bit."

Hurriedly, because I felt hurried, I said, "O.K., then Mr. Stud Muffin, let me see if I can do a little teasing to wake up 'Mr.Happy'!"

I slid down Decker's body until I was astride his legs and far enough down that I could lean down and get his cock in my mouth. My thighs held Decker's legs in place as I began my fellatio on his disappointingly limp penis. And it seemed that, even with my warm, moist, sensuous mouth (do I flatter myself?) around it, there was no appreciable alteration in its stiffness quotient, in other words "zero". Hmmm...I massaged it, I tickled it, I rubbed his balls...nothing! I considered slapping it around but I knew that would only make things worse. Guys don't appreciate having their cocks slapped around...well, most guys, anyway. At a loss, I climbed off of Decker, and laid myself down next to him.

I know there was exasperation in my voice when I said, "Got any ideas, soldier? Can't you order 'him' to attention? Or, something like that? Shit...I don't know!"

"I do have a couple of ideas, Ms. I'm-so-horny-I-can't-see-straight," Decker said, good naturedly, "let's try the old-fashioned way. How about THAT?"

Decker propped rolled on to his side, propped himself up on one elbow, and stroked my cheek. His hand moved from my cheek to my neck down to my breast. Just the mere brushing touch sent thrills through me, especially considering how horny I was. The little tweak he gave my nipple intensified the thrill, and when he leaned over and put my nipple his mouth, that sensation was all I could think of.

One thing about Decker, he learned about my body; he knew now what turned on my orgasm machine...and he did it...AGAIN. The teasing, the tweaking, the sucking and the massaging of my breast quickly had my senses boiling. He kissed and licked his way down my body until his mouth was on my hardly hairy bush. Even without his tongue being in my vagina on my clitoris, my "zings" were blending into one big "ZING".

Then he moved his body down, spread my legs open, leaned in and did get his tongue into my pussy...and...yes teased my clitoris until I thought I would fly off the bed. That devil Decker! He knew how to get to me..Oh, YEAH!

I was so absorbed in my incipient orgasm that I didn't notice that Decker had reached over to the nightstand, opened the box of condoms, extracted one from the box, and took it out of its wrapper. This was a relatively complex and noticeable operation when performed in the midst of cunnilingus, but Decker pulled it off. What's more amazing is that had fitted the condom over his now erect penis without my being aware. Whether this was a function of his adeptness or my distraction, I don't know--It was probably both.

Decker's attentions to my vagina combined with its natural ability to lubricate itself, produced a wet, slick place for Decker to place his dick. When I felt the pressure of it on my labia, I was startled. I didn't know he had a condom now and all of the fright about potential pregnancy leapt into my consciousness. Talk about a orgasm buzz kill!

"Decker!" I shrilled, "The condoms! You've GOT to put on a condom. Do it now or we're DONE!"

"Done!" chortled Decker, "have a look!"

I looked down and saw that his penis was sheathed by the condom. To say I was relieved would be an understatement. I was thrilled...that brought the progress of my orgasm back to standard.

Now, remember, I hadn't had a live penis inside me for more than ten years. Yes, I use vibrators and dildos. Darlene would use a strap on me, too. But it doesn't compare to a real, live, human male penis! It's just different. Ask any girl. The sensation of Decker's cock in me amped my orgasm potential exponentially.

I've talked about Decker's cock before. You know what I think of it. But having it inside added a couple of stars to every category of its rating profile. For one thing, it was firm not plastic hard like my vibrators; there was some flex to it which only made it more effective in its ability to stimulate...well...what needed to be stimulated. For another, it was attached to Decker!

His body against mine, the feel of his hairy chest against my miniscule but sensitive boobs, the friction of his pubic hair against my smooth pubis, was heavenly. I'm sorry, but I think most men don't really appreciate those sensations that they give women. I don't think they are really aware. Maybe some really good male lovers are, but I can tell you EVERY woman is.

I have been asked many times why I like making love to another woman; and, no matter how much explaining I do, the one thing that comes up is that a woman understands another woman and what it takes to bring each other to orgasm. Bodies together, and what sensations they produce...women understand. Men can create that, and they have a penis to enhance the process, but I don't think many men...especially that asshole I was married to...really understand it. They might work that magic but they really don't know what that magic is. A woman knows!

Meanwhile, back at the penetration, Decker's cock was deep within me now, rhythmically thrusting and withdrawing. He was patient, taking his time, not rushing. My haste to start fucking was replaced by the delicious sensations of actually fucking. And don't give me this "mythical" G-Spot stuff. It IS real, it IS there. Don't ask me where "There" is but it is in there. Sometimes, when I'm masturbating, I can get to it with my fingers inside my vagina but that damned spot migrates. I know generally the area it's in but even I, masturbateur extraordinaire, can't find it every time. Some people postulate that a male penis can't even contact it.

Well, to all of those doubters, I can testify to the fact that a male penis can do it. Decker's was the first to do it for me...kind of like the first moon landing, at least in my book. One small stroke for a man; one giant leap for my G-Spot! Decker got me there.

When my orgasm topped out, when I came, it was monumental. I gushed and gushed and gushed. I'm sure G-Spot was the reason. And it didn't stop there. Decker was still inside me and he hadn't climaxed yet. He was aware of my orgasm...how could he not? My "lady-cum" was all over the bed and HIM! But he kept pumping away and another wave of orgasm would take me.... and again...and again. It's not that my orgasm stopped; it just lessened for a spell and then soared again. I was really beginning to feel that they would never stop, that we would finished our fucking and I would be left with a continuing orgasm for ever--interesting to speculate on but, if you think about it, a truly frightening prospect at the level I was experiencing it.

Finally, when I was starting to feel that I couldn't take another minute of the sweet pain, Decker climaxed. I felt it when he stopped his thrusting, body tensing, and his male cry of release and pleasure...stillness...and withdrawing. The condom worked! I felt no cum inside me, and I'm sure I would have known, as sensitive as my vagina had become. WHEW!

Decker pulled his condom covered cock out of me, rolled over...actually tumbled over...on to his side, and laid next to me with his eyes closed. He didn't say a word but I could tell from his breath that he was spent...exhausted. He went right to sleep, condom in situ. He was so out that he didn't stir when I slid the condom off of his penis. I cleaned off his cock with a tissue. I knew what to do with a condom half full of cum. No, no, NO! I'm not THAT kind of woman! I flushed it straightaway!

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I mulled over my experience having intercourse with...o.k., fucking...Decker. Though mechanically the same, in general, it was an entirely different experience than the ordeals I had to go through with my ex-(I wish it were "late")husband. With him, there was no foreplay, let alone any romance; there was no consideration for the state of my vagina, let alone my feelings; and there was absolute indifference as to whether or not I got pregnant, let alone whether I enjoyed it or not. I believe that's enough to drive practically any woman away from men, though, unfortunately many...maybe most...won't go.

That's not to say that those women will become lesbians. That treatment by my husband didn't make me a lesbian, I believe I always was...I had an interest in women from an early age even before I know what "sex" was...but it certainly convinced me that I wanted no part of men ever again. I understand now what that was all about, so having sex with a man...good sex with a man...is not impossible for me, even if my primary preference is for sex with a woman. Now, if that is the definition of "bi-sexual", I guess I'm there. I'd notify LGBTQ immediately...if I were a member!

I was loving to Decker after he woke up from his post-coital "nap". I told him how much I appreciated his patience with me and...well, of course...I complimented him effusively on his "cocksmanship", always good to stroke the male ego, I say. He seemed a little down which I attributed to post-coital triste', that paradoxical sadness that sometimes occurs after sex. But it remained with him all that night. It was there when we woke up in the morning.

As usual, I woke up at 5:00AM. What amazed me was that Decker was already awake!

"Decker, is there something wrong? Something bothering you?" I asked with concern, "is there anything I can do?"

"Actually, no, Lin," Decker said with sadness in his voice, "I wish there were."

My blood ran cold, just like that time when I thought Decker told me he loved me, only this time I knew in my heart that it was different.

"Lin, listen, I love you," he started out, "you know that, so don't fret. These things have a way of working themselves out. Here, kiss me!"

We kissed, and hugged, and I got ready for work. Decker stayed behind because he said he had a late morning class and wanted to catch a couple more "zzz's". Giving him a good-by kiss, I told him to put his key through the slot.

And then... Decker disappeared!

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When I came home from work that night, everything looked as it should be. My key was on the floor near the mail slot, my apartment was in order, so I had no reason to wonder about Decker. I didn't start to wonder until four days later when I hadn't heard anything from him. Now, I knew that Decker had his share of problems and, like that one week in the past, he dropped out of sight, but at least some texts popped up. This time nothing.

I followed up at his school and the frat house. Nobody had seen him. I checked with his Insurance Agency, they told me he hadn't been in and the chalked it up to his school workload. I filed a missing persons report with the police department, they treated it as routine even though I told them he was an Army veteran who had been diagnosed with PTSD. I had Gar scour the records to see if Decker had been admitted to any local hospitals, or arrested somewhere. Gar even checked the morgue records. Nothing. His credit cards and debit cards hadn't been used. The Police did check the CCTV security cameras in the area but nothing. Traffic cams didn't help much because he didn't have a car, and we knew where the car was. It was maddeningly frustrating.

The police notified Decker's father who came down and made his own inquiries. He took possession of Decker's property, including his cell phone, my number was in it and, when the police secured his call records and, in fact later, his texts, I appeared prominently there. They identified me as a romantic interest of Decker's and I was questioned even more closely about my relationship with him and his disappearance. I was happy to cooperate and told them everything I knew which included our romantic--sexual--relationship. I was "cleared" as a "suspect" but, not surprisingly, the police would return to question me.

The report was that Decker's father being a man of immense influence and resources, hired investigators to track his son. They had no greater success than the local police. He and talked many times and all I could do is reassure him that his son was a good man, a hero, that I loved him, and the only issue that I could see that might account for his disappearance was his PTSD.

But...recently, I was watching a national TV news program that was covering a city, not near me, with a serious trash collection that had reached proportions that would garner national attention. There was a "street reporter" giving an account of the issue and in the background I spotted a man that I thought looked like Decker who walked through the frame. He was sporting a thick black beard...it looked almost like a disguise...but I knew Decker had naturally thick dark hair...everywhere. I phoned that into the local police. I didn't hear anything back from them. I only hope they followed up.

I never thought, in this day and age, that a man couldn't be found, even if he didn't want to be found. Eventually the turn up. The more famous they are, the more likely they will be found, like that big time mobster who disappeared for 15 or 20 years. He was found. Of course the FBI was on his trail and there were rewards. Still, how can anybody disappear as completely as Decker? Clearly, there may never be an answer.

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I was, horribly distraught by Decker's disappearance. The fact that he was gone was bad enough; not knowing why, or where he might be, compounds the feeling of helplessness and loss. I turned to my friends for solace.

Gladys and Tanya were a great, though both of them were busy with their own affairs...and I don't mean just their romantic affairs. I know that both of them are, if not highly placed, certainly significant women in their fields. It was rare, but Tanya and I would get together for one-to-one "fun" time. But something had gone out of it. I was mourning Decker which made high voltage sex difficult for me. Also, Gladys had become an exclusive lover with Tanya; that's not to say that Tanya didn't have other lovers, it's just that Tanya was Gladys's only lover and it diminished our opportunities to have sex at all.

I lived for the time that June/Juliette could spend together. Unfortunately, that time became less and less, as well. Juliette became so much more popular after she "came out" and demand for her performances skyrocketed. We texted and e-mailed but even with that our contact shrank to what could charitably characterized as occasional. I followed her on her webpage, though.

Recently, I pulled up a news item about June/Juliette. The centerpiece was a large photo of her and another woman, a soprano diva--top shelf opera singer--Glorietta, "somebody", Italian, you know. She looked gorgeous and not the stereotypical grand opera soprano that I have always visualized. You know the type; "45-45-45" boobs, hips, waist, dressed in Viking helmet with horns, with a voice that would shatter a plate glass window. No, this woman, while she had prominent boobs--36D...DD?...was otherwise trim and shapely, with a darkly exotic--and may I say erotic--look to her. In a word, GORGEOUS!

The headline on the article was:

"FAMED VIOLIN VIRTUOSA TO WED WORLD RENOWNED DIVA!" The supporting text recounted Juliette's career, her announcement that she was a lesbian, her meeting with Glorietta and their mutual attraction sparked by Glorietta's publically identifying herself as a lesbian, too.. The rest of the article was "yadda,yadda,yadda" The important part was that Juliette and Glorietta were deeply and irretrievably in love and were to be officially married.

You know the sad state of affairs that prevailed in a city when there was a devastating explosion that leveled the city for a mile, corpses everywhere, and then the blizzard of the century hit and covered the city and ice so thick that the dead couldn't be recovered until Spring? NO? Well it did actually happen way back when...like...a hundred years ago....Well, THAT'S how I felt! My lover Juliette, effectively gone, to another lover. My lover, Decker, gone...period! So much for our promise of unending love! It's a good thing I didn't own a dog; I'm sure it would have been hit by a car and died, too!