Slow Separation

On the drive home I reflected on my night. As sex went it had been great, but I was aware that it lacked the intimate connection I prefer, like I had with Bonnie. But it was my first time and thought it would probably get easier each time.

I walked through the front door at 8:50pm and immediately went into the shower and brushed my teeth, as I had been doing every night since this had started. I had noticed Bonnie in the living room reading as I came in, and I caught a look on her face like she knew what I had been doing, but if she suspected she didn't say a word,

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To justify what we were doing, I felt it was necessary to make a concerted effort on weekends to stay connected to Bonnie by doing things together. Some of those were obviously the mundane chores of life but we also needed to do 'couple' things. We spent Saturday doing some chores around the house but on Sunday we went out to brunch and then hit the museum of art, a particular favorite of hers. She had taken art history classes in college to fulfill her history requirement and had developed an interest.

It was a really nice day and by the end of it we were hanging on each other like a couple of newlyweds. Despite what she had done, and what we were both now doing, I still loved her and I tried to express that affection. However I knew at the end of the day the issue of sex would come up and I wasn't sure what to do. Intellectually I thought I should avoid having sex with her so she would understand what her outside interests were costing her, but I loved her and desired her so saying no wouldn't be easy.

Okay, I ended up being weak, at least in my mind. The night ended with Bonnie and me in bed and fucking up a storm. Her passion for me was undeniable and I was, as I knew I would be, fully satisfied. But when we were done and I couldn't get it up again, all I could think of was that she still needed more and would probably hook up with her lover tomorrow. And that just depressed me, which was exactly why I had taken the course of action I had. I told myself I would remember this feeling the next time I found myself in this situation and wouldn't be so foolish.

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My Sunday night with Bonnie had done wonders for my needs but by Thursday I was ready to go again and I had no intention of fucking her again, so I returned to my internet account.

I had a message from Kim seeking a repeat performance. I did respond, letting her know I was up for it but was going to check other things out first. I half expected her to be upset but she just told me to have fun and not forget about her. This was a world I wasn't used to.

My date for that evening ended up being one of the black ladies that had responded early on. Her name was Vanessa and she was 34 years old. She had long, wavy hair and I eventually found out it was some kind of weave. She kept her natural hair just long enough to be able to integrate it into other things.

She was single (or so she said) and had been burned by her ex-husband so she wasn't into a relationship right now and didn't always want to spend time trying to pick someone up, though she did hook up occasionally when out on the scene. She used the website to fill her needs in between those occasions.

Many years ago I worked with a guy named Frank, who was quite the player. He had told me that the black women he had been with were the hottest in bed but one thing they never did was give blow jobs. It was apparently something they just wouldn't do.

Either Frank was wrong or times had most definitely changed.

After our brief getting to know you at the bar we went back to her place (she had her own home and rented out two of the bedrooms for extra income) to shower and get to it. We showered separately. I went second and by the time I was done she was lying on the bed facing the bathroom door, her legs spread and her finger running up and down her very wet slit.

She was smoothly shaved and she was bright pink inside. I remember as a teenager thinking that black women would look different on the inside since their skin coloring everywhere else was different, but my juvenile forays into skin mags soon proved me wrong.

Contrary to old Frank's information, Vanessa wasted no time taking my cock into her mouth and had swung her hips over my face to 69 before I ever came. She tasted very sweet and I found myself eating her very eagerly, to the point that I got her off fairly quickly.

What she didn't care for was me cumming in her mouth so as I got close the first time she pulled away and finished me with her hand, which I found rather emotionally unsatisfying though physically pleasurable.

For me it ended up being another three-cum-night and Vanessa experienced a number of good solid orgasms and a few smaller ones. I was confident she was fully satisfied and she assured me she was, though I took that with a grain of salt. We went our separate ways and, unlike Kim, she didn't say anything about us hooking up again and I suspected this would be the only time for us.

I arrived home at 8:45 and Bonnie was not home yet. I climbed into the shower per our agreement. Just as I got out, Bonnie walked into the bedroom and straight into the shower. It was 9:01pm. I figured we had both been with someone that night and I was strangely unemotional about the possibility, which concerned me.

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That weekend was much like the previous one except I avoided having sex with Bonnie. She seemed upset by that but didn't say anything. It wasn't for lack of interest on my part but I remembered how I felt last week and wasn't about to repeat it.

The next couple of weeks were repeats of each other, except for the women themselves. Without the weekend relief that Bonnie would have given me I found myself in pretty heavy need when Monday rolled around.

The first week was my first experience with an Asian woman. She was Thai and her name was Delfa. She was smaller in stature than any woman I had ever been with, barely clearing 5 feet, and she as slim. Unlike my previous, liaisons she did not shave her pussy, though kept it under control. This was not a problem and it in no way hindered what I did with her.

Later that week was an interesting one: it was a woman from Mexico and she spoke very little English. In fact I had to struggle to understand most of what she said, except for perhaps the most important thing she said, which came through as clear as a bell: 'We go fuck now?'.

Her name was Maria and she a little plump around the middle and favored bright red lipstick, which was a stark contrast to her dark skin. She was a dynamo in bed and by far the most energetic partner I had ever had, Kim included, and she had been pretty wild herself.

Throughout our entire time together Maria was talking out loud, presumably about how good things felt. I can't say for sure because it was all in Spanish, which for some reason really turned me on. I went 4 times that night and the fact that she and I could barely communicate verbally made it seem so animalistic. I found myself hoping for a repeat with her.

The following week featured a couple of women who were rather mundane in terms of appearance and that carried over into bed as well. I enjoyed it but the experience was sufficiently benign to not warrant details.

The first rendezvous of the following week, however, caught me by surprise. Wanting something more exciting, I messaged Kim and arranged to meet her. Per her request after the first time we decided to just meet at her apartment.

Kim opened the door and invited me in, giving me a strong kiss in the process. I had assumed we'd be getting right to it and kept my arms wrapped around her, but she peeled them off then picked up her purse, which was on a table next to the door.

"Sorry lover but I'm not your date tonight. I apologize for the misdirection and I hope you'll forgive me."

"I don't understand. If not you then who?"

"She's waiting in my bed. I assume you remember the way."

And with that she was out the door and my mouth was just hanging open in surprise. Damn, I had really been looking forward to a night with Kim. I thought about just leaving, but for some reason I trusted her to not steer me wrong so I walked down the short hallway to her bedroom. The door was closed so I knocked.

"Come in."

I opened the door and lying on the bed half covered by a sheet but displaying a set of mammary glands every bit as impressive as Kim's was a blonde woman that I pegged for about my age. It took me only seconds to make the connection. Her hair was shorter and not as shiny, but as clear as day were the piercing blue eyes and stunning cheekbones.

"You must be Kim's mother. It's nice to meet you."

"You figured that out awfully fast. She said you were smart but we both thought I might have to reveal my identity to you."

"She's your spitting image. Kim's fiancé is going to be a lucky man for a very long time."

"Thank you for that nice compliment. Now get those damn clothes off and get in here with me. I'm told we're on a time schedule and I intend to maximize my allotment."

Kathy lacked Kim's energy but she had stamina and was clearly Kim's superior in the blow job department. She even produced a clean bill of health and insisted that she get the bareback backdoor action that her daughter had been denied. I certainly wasn't going to argue.

During the rest periods between our bouts of sweating up the mattress, Kathy gave me her story. Kim's father had passed some time ago and she had not expected to marry again. However, an older gentleman had taken a fancy to her and wanted her to marry him. He knew she didn't love him but he wasn't concerned about that. He just wanted her companionship and some occasional intimacy. He's nearing 70 now (Kathy is 48, if you're wondering) and he's aware that he is unable to satisfy her needs. She asks only that she be discreet, so she arranged to 'visit her daughter' and then I was brought in to take care of her needs. She apologized for the deception but it was necessary to maintain the discretion necessary for her marriage.

I assured her it was not a problem and thanked her for explaining it to me. I was aware of the parallel to my own situation and genuinely hoped that the story was true; that her husband really was aware of what she did. By the time I had to pack up and leave for the night she assured me she was well satisfied and said she intended to put my services to use again should I remain available.

Kim was in the living room when I left and she stood up as I came through the room.

"I'm sorry I set you up. I wasn't sure how you'd feel about being with mom after being with me but I thought you'd go for it if it was right in front of you. Are we okay, Henry?"

"Absolutely. And you can make it up to me by being my date for Friday. I'm actually kind of excited about having a mother and a daughter, and in the same week no less."

Kim smiled and planted a kiss on me, and I wondered how much she could taste her own mother's pussy on my lips. If she noticed or cared she didn't let on, and I was in a good mood on the drive home.

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This went on for another couple of months. I did see Kim that week and once more after that but she said that anymore and she might develop feelings for me and that wouldn't be fair to her fiancé. I also had one more night with Kathy about four weeks after the first time.

I never did hook up with the Spanish-speaking Mexican girl again but I did manage to enjoy an impressive (if I do say so myself) variety of physical specimens during this time:

Maggie was a bodybuilder and I did that mostly for the curiosity. It's not a look I find appealing but I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

Colleen was 6'6" tall with legs that went on for days. She was actually looking for love but in the meantime was willing to have a few adventures. I was glad to have invested in the queen-sized bed.

Bridget was, and I had to stifle the laugh at the rhyme, a midget. Hey, that's what she called herself. I'm not even sure what the politically correct term is these days. She stood all of 3'8" tall and had an incredibly nice body. The night we met I was patiently sitting at the table waiting for her when she walked up to me and said, "You don't happen to have a midget fetish, do you?" It broke the ice and we had a great time. She had no picture on her profile; said it tended to drive guys away.

Stephanie was an amputee. She had both of her legs cut off below the knees after a car crash. Her husband at the time couldn't take it and left her. She was single and had a good job, and had decided that men couldn't be trusted and didn't plan to get in a relationship again. But that didn't mean they couldn't be used for her pleasure. I was honored to have been able to fulfill one of her fantasies, which she had been unable to voice to any of her previous hook-ups. It seems my taking the time to meet her for drinks gave her a little bit of trust in me and she asked me if I would cum on her leg stumps. After a brief bit of shock at the request I agreed, and she thanked me for it afterwards.

And finally there was Bertha. She was a dynamo in the sack and willing to do just about anything. She even asked if I had a friend that might join us but I didn't. We had an amazing night, which surprised the hell out of me. Why you might be asking? Because Bertha was 68 years old. Now she didn't look 68. She was a lifelong dancer which had kept her in shape and toned, so looked more mid-50's, but her energy in bed was pure twenty-something. It was truly amazing.

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After four months of playing the field online I admit it was getting a bit tiresome. This was really not my style and I was really hoping that there was a light at the end of this tunnel. But the fact was that Bonnie showed no signs of slowing down, though our weekends and evenings continued to be filled with love and affection for one another. I did love her and for the first time I began to wonder if I could somehow look past what she was doing and just be married to her again. I wasn't there yet but the door cracked open.

Two weeks later things changed, though I didn't realize it at the time. I had actually been date-free the previous week but I was starting to get a little needy so I responded to a message I had recently received in my inbox and we agreed to meet at the bar at
5:30 on that Monday.

I recognized her as soon as she walked in the door because she was wearing the exact outfit she had described to me. I looked at her until she caught my eyes and she smiled a melancholy smile and then walked over to me.

"Henry?"

"Yes. And you must be Ann?"

She had long light brown (dark blonde?) hair that was rail straight and hung nearly to her ass. Hers was a body built for comfort, soft and inviting. Her breasts weren't large (I'd guess a b-cup but it was hard to tell with the loose fitting top she was wearing) and she had wide hips and a little bit of a belly. I found her very attractive.

She sat down but was clearly uncomfortable, and no sooner had I sat down as well than she stood up.

"I'm sorry, Henry. This has nothing to do with you, but I just can't do this. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."

She hurried toward the door but I was faster. I wanted at the very least to be able to calm her down before she tried to drive home.

"Hang on, Ann. Please hang on one second."

By now there were several eyes on us and they were probably wondering what the asshole (that would be me) had done to upset the lady. I got between her and the door and she just stopped, where I had expected her to try and push past me.

"I'm sorry, Henry. I'm sure you're disappointed but..."

"Don't worry about me. I'm just concerned about you. Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but I can't go through with this. I'm just not a..." (she lowered her voice to a whisper) "...casual sex kind of person."

"Well then, how about we just go to the table and spend some time talking. I can do that as well."

"I don't want to waste your time. You came here for, well, for a reason."

"That's true, but even if that was the most important thing about tonight I wouldn't be able to make other arrangements anyway. So we'll just make a new plan; one in which I get to spend a couple of hours getting to know a very attractive woman, and that's never a waste of time."

A small smile came to her face and she nodded. I took her arm and gently guided her back to our table and soon the rest of the patrons returned their attention to their own conversations. She ordered a drink and we sat quietly until it arrived and then she took a sip and seemed to be much better.

"I can only imagine what you must think of me."

"I think that you're a woman who was in a situation she wasn't comfortable with and had second thoughts. That's all."

I saw her eyes catch the ring on my finger, and then she made direct eye contact with me.

"You're married?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm legally married, yes, but at the moment it's a little on the non-traditional side."

"Does your wife know you're here?"

"She doesn't know precisely where I am, but she knows in the broader sense what I'm doing."

"And she's okay with it?"

"It was the choice she made rather than us getting divorced."

She turned that over in her mind for a moment, and then:

"Can I hear that story now?"

And so I again went into the recent history of my marriage and my wife's solution to her problem, and how that brought me to where we were this evening. She was incredulous.

"So, she might be with him right now?"

"Or was earlier today. Monday's are almost always, um, busy since she and I spend the weekend together and she doesn't get any relief from me."

"And what about your...release?"

"Bonnie was right in that my libido is far lesser than hers. I certainly enjoy it but I don't have the need for it that she seems to."

Ann and I ended up staying in the bar the entire evening until it was time for me to go. We ordered food from the counter and nursed a couple of drinks each. I left an outrageous tip for monopolizing the table for 3 hours.

As I walked her out to her car I asked if I could see her again this week. She turned and faced me.

"I won't have sex with you if that's what you're after."

"Actually I was thinking more along the lines of dinner and maybe dancing. And I'd like to hear your story when you're up to it."

She pondered for just a minute.

"I can see you Thursday. Why don't we meet at Olive Garden at 5:30. I'm not much for dancing but there's a piano bar I've been wanting to try. No promises on my story, though."

I opened her car door and she went to sit down, and then paused. She stood back up and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for a lovely evening, Henry, and for being so understanding."

And then she was gone.

Oddly, on the drive back to the house I felt really good. Better, in fact, than most of the nights that I had spent getting rolled around by one of the ladies. Now wasn't that strange.

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I was at Olive Garden five minutes early and found Ann already there and with a table. I went to kiss her cheek at the table and she let me. We chatted a bit about what had gone since we had last seen each other (nothing notable for either of us) and then ordered. She started her story without any preamble.

"I married Wayne when I was 22. We were married for 13 years and then he walked out on me 4 years ago. That makes me 39 if you're trying to do the math in your head. He left me for the secretary he had been having an affair with. A cliché, I know, but it is what it is. He left me with a 12-year old son and a 9-year old daughter so I decided to focus on raising them. Charlie is 16 now and Grace is 13 and they have lives of their own so I decided to take care of some of my needs. I went on a couple of dates but nothing went anywhere, but I found being in the company of a man again lit something of a fire under me, if you know what I mean."