The Rating Game Disaster

Mission accomplished. I hadn't made love to Ginger. I had fucked her senseless. I was certain that it was the best physical fuck that she had ever had in her life, so I had fulfilled Susan's last quest and could move on. However, the question now was whether I wanted to.

After I had been in my apartment about two hours Ginger called. "Hi, Justin. I wanted to thank you for rocking my world. I've never felt like that before in my life."

"Is that good or bad?" I deadpanned.

"So far beyond 'good' that its not in the same universe. I wish that you could have stayed and snuggled, though."

"It was just sex, Ginger; I enjoyed it too," I replied.

"Oh," she responded, and then there was a long pause. "Would you like to come over for dinner Tuesday night?"

"What's for desert?" I asked.

"Anything you want...and I do mean anything, Justin," she replied.

"OK -- what time should I get there?"

"Is six p. m. OK?"

"Sure, see you then," I replied.

My arrival at Ginger's apartment on Tuesday set the tone for the next month and a half. As soon as I entered I smashed my lips into her, backed her into the kitchen, bent her over the kitchen table, pulled off her panties, abused her G-spot until she had her first orgasm, then fucked her brains out.

To make a long story short, we continued a steamy sexual relationship for the next six weeks, including with butt plugs, vibrators, and ass-fucking. I stayed over at her place a half dozen times, and she stayed at mine a similar number. She was so well-fucked that her co-workers were teasing her about walking bowlegged, and often sitting at her desk staring into space. Ginger never made any overt comparisons between our sex life when we were married versus now, probably because she didn't want to open up an old wound, but did repeatedly tell me how happy and fulfilled she was.

A strange thing happened while I was fucking the shit out of her. I fell in love with her all over again. While I was almost completely over the issue that had divided us I had unrest in the back of my mind about whether Ginger really was aware of how badly that she had hurt me. My response to that unrest was probably not very mature, but I felt that I had to be sure that she would experience my pain before we could move on.

My opportunity to insure that she felt the same thing that I had came on a Sunday morning. We had fucked twice Saturday night at her apartment, with her achieving her now standard four or five orgasms. I was going to go back to my apartment after breakfast when she said that she had something to talk to me about.

"Justin; the last thing that I want to do is pressure you, especially since I have been the happiest I've ever been the last two months. But I have been offered a promotion in another city; I need to know if we have a future together because if we do I'll turn it down flat. But if there is no future I owe it to myself to go."

She was obviously nervous and biting her lip.

"So -- well, uh, well, what can you tell me?"

Without hesitation I replied, "Well, Ginger, a part of me still loves you. However, sex is very important to me, and you're just not good enough in bed for us to have a future together. When I compare you to the women that I was with after we divorced, you simply don't measure up. Sorry -- so maybe you should take that promotion."

She was beyond shocked; her eyes were wide, and tears were flowing. I stood up, gave her a kiss on her forehead, then said "Maybe we can get together again before you move," then turned and walked out the door, making sure that it was unlocked as I left.

Through the door I could hear her sobs and wails. I waited a good two minutes then went back in. I lifted her limp torso up off the kitchen table, smiled at her and said "Actually, I changed my mind. Why don't we get married again and start a family, and you stay in town."

Her expression changed from sadness, to joy, to anger as I stared into her eyes. Then she started hitting me on the chest with her fists yelling "You fucking asshole bastard, how could you do that to me; I hate you, you son-of-a-bitch."

After she pounded on me for a half minute or so I slung her over my shoulder, carried her back to her bed, ripped her robe off, pushed her face first onto the mattress, and fucked her senseless.

*****

We remarried a month later. The day that we did she threw out her remaining birth control pills.