Chapter 4
After our first time together that Valentine's weekend, Gina and I entered that phase of a relationship where, once sex has been introduced, it's like a child's new toy at Christmas, getting constant use until the novelty wears off. We never left my house from Friday night until Monday morning, and we seldom were more than halfway clothed during that time. That's not to say we were having sex all the time; there was a good bit of watching TV together, playing cards, napping and snuggling, bathing together, and I even let her convince me to cook a meal for her naked while she watched and hooted.
We were reveling in the joy of the newness of sex. We avoided more serious conversations, though I knew there would be a few of those in our near future. For now, however, we just enjoyed sharing our bodies with each other and seeing what kinds of pleasure we could give and receive. Gina had brought a 10 pack of condoms, and by the time we fell asleep on Sunday, there was only one left.
Before drifting off while curled up in my arms, Gina mumbled in the dark, "What's tomorrow look like?"
Sighing at being forced to anticipate the end of our happy romp, I said, "I have a class at 11. I should be in my office sometime before then. You?"
"Work from 12 to 5, then an evening class."
She pulled my arm a little tighter around her body, and I cupped a breast in my hand. With a sleepy voice she asked, "Can you drop me off at home on your way to the office?"
Putting my lips next to her earlobe and tickling it with my breath, I replied, "Is the other option that you would stay here and be waiting for me when I get back?"
She groaned and said, "No...we have to be grown-ups who have real lives now. I'll see you jogging on Tuesday, though."
"Yeah, I'll take you back. Leave around 9?"
"We'll see."
*******
We hadn't stayed up late the night before, so my body woke itself up at 7. I went downstairs and made some bacon, egg, and cheese sandwiches on toast. I took them upstairs and found Gina was already in the shower. Setting the food on the bed, I dropped my robe, went into the bathroom and slid the shower door open. Gina was lathering up her hair with her back mostly to me and hadn't seemed to notice my presence.
I stood there for a moment, watching the way her ass cheeks were clenched together and her boobs jiggled as she rubbed the shampoo in. I took a step towards her and wrapped my arms around her body. My arms crossed in front of her and rested on her ribs. Gina was startled at first and squealed, then she turned her face up to mine, lips puckered. Her eyes were closed and shampoo was running down her face as I gave her a peck on the lips.
I grabbed the body wash and squirted some in my hand. Then I proceeded to rub her shoulders, her back, her arms and her stomach. I cleaned under her breasts, enjoying the weight of them in my hands. I washed between her legs and all around her ass. Gina had stopped washing her hair and was leaning back against me, arms limp at her side. When she reached up and back to wrap her arms around my neck, her breast lifted up, and I renewed my attention to them. She sighed as my hands moved slowly across her chest, up to her neck, and then back down to her mound.
I spoke softly in her ear, "Go ahead and rinse off. Breakfast is on the bed."
Eyes still closed as water ran through her hair, Gina just hummed in approval, her lips in a contented smile. I stepped out of the shower and dried off, making sure there was another dry towel in reach for Gina. As Gina got out of the shower, I went to get juice to go with our sandwiches. We sat in our towels and robes, eating breakfast, lost in our thoughts. My thoughts were steering into the dangerous waters of my insecurity, so I decided to get conversation going, hoping Gina could draw me onto some solid ground.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked.
Gina looked at me and raised her eyebrows in surprise. She had been staring at the food while chewing on a bite. Then she smiled a little shyly and said, "Nothing serious."
"All the more reason to tell me."
"I was thinking you should get one of those trays that you can use to serve breakfast in bed. That way the crumbs wouldn't be spilling off the plates like they are right now."
Unfortunately, Gina's comment had the opposite effect as I had intended. It made me think back to the tray I used to own, and I remembered 2 years earlier, serving Lynn a "morning after Valentine's Day" breakfast in bed. After we had finished eating, I had set the tray to the side, but still on the bed. Then I had lifted up the bottom of the skimpy nightie she had worn all night (it was merely decorative...and exciting) and proceeded to eat her out. I had licked her to orgasm and kept going. As she was building to a second climax, she had pulled my head up and said in a hoarse voice, "Inside me! Now! Fuck me!"
I apparently had been too slow, crawling carefully into place above her. Before I could enter her, Lynn had grabbed my shoulders and pushed me to the side, trying to get me on my back so she could mount me. But Lynn had forgotten about the tray, and her shove had pushed me right onto it. I couldn't stop or catch myself, and so with a loud crack, the whole thing had split. As it split, I had fallen through it, landing on a plate of sticky maple syrup.
Lynn had been in a frenzy and didn't care at the time. She had pushed the broken pieces to the side, straddled my hips, and sunk down onto my shaft- before the pain of the fork in my back caused me to lose my stiffness. Lynn rode me for 3 or 4 minutes until she completed her climax. In the process, I learned that I certainly did
not
have a masochistic side- the pain and discomfort I experienced in no way heightened my pleasure. I had finally pushed Lynn up and off me and gotten out of bed. Once Lynn realized that I had wood shards and a fork in my back, she was horrified and apologetic. We were able to laugh about it later, and once my wounds were tended to and the sheets were in the wash, Lynn had given me a wonderful blow job as I sat in the wicker chair by our window.
Damn. This had been happening all weekend. I was with Gina, but I couldn't escape Lynn. She was everywhere, and I never noticed it before she left because she was physically present. I never noticed it after she left because there was no reason
not
to think about my wife while living alone in the house we had shared. It was only when I was trying to move on that I felt the anchor of my past. It was if Lynn was still there saying, "You can't replace me!"
Gina noticed my silence and asked, "What are
you
thinking about?"
"Tray tables," I answered, truthfully. "And my lecture for today. I hope I don't come off sounding as unprepared as I am." And with that, we picked up the plates and started getting ready for the day. Gina pulled some day clothes out of her overnight bag- they'd been in there unused the whole weekend- and put her dress and a few other things in the bag. I got shaved and dressed and packed up my computer bag. By 8:30 I was downstairs, putting dishes in the dishwasher and thinking through my schedule for the week.
I heard Gina's steps coming down the stairs. She walked over to the patio doors and closed the blinds, making it a bit darker in the room.
"Gareth, I was just packing up, and I realized we have a problem." She was standing between the dining room table and the kitchen, nervously biting her bottom lip, hands behind her back. I turned to face her and I searched her green eyes for an explanation. I was a little worried, but not even my anxiety-driven brain could imagine what kind of problem would have come up so suddenly.
"What is it, babe?"