My life-long Affair
I met him at a cocktail party. He was charming. Almost Handsome. Attractive to me. We were introduced by the hostess, Susan, "Thomas, this is Julie, my bestest friend. Thomas is a friend of Jason's Father." (Jason is still her husband. He has never indicated he knows about Susan and me.)
"Hello Julie. Nice to finally meet you. Steven has spoken well of you."
"Thank you. He is one of my favorite people."
"He told me you have been a working at Birch North for three years. Still enjoying it?"
We talked for about forty-five minutes, with me filling the time, spewing about whatever he asked. He was comfortable for me.
After what seemed a lifetime, we were interrupted. Before we were separated, He handed me his card, "Let's have lunch. Please call." Only his name and number were on the card.
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I thought about this occasionally for the next few days. But work, and family, demanded most of my conscious time. Time for lunch with an acquaintance? Get real! When I did recall the conversation, I remembered how comfortable I was.
A couple of weeks later Jim told me Steven would be hosting an evening party to celebrate the 'Other Christmas,' June twenty-five, three days after the summer solstice. I thought of Thomas. No doubt, he would attend. Would I talk with him again? Would he be as I remembered?
During the next four weeks, I became increasingly distracted with thoughts of Thomas. What was I thinking about? Sex with a man nearly twice my age! That's what I was thinking about!
For the first three years of my marriage to Jim I did not think about sex with others. In the past year I had had two very nice encounters with strangers. Yet this seemed different, somehow almost wrong, and profoundly erotic. All my sexual playmates had been close to my age. Playing with a man twenty-five years older than me! I was confused. I was becoming possessed. And I had a feeling this may not just be a temporary distraction. The two days before the party I had to take sick days I was so distracted and horny.
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Party night was warm, with a slight breeze. Enough to keep the few mosquitos away. Not strong enough that I yearned for a wrap. But, because I have some beautiful shawls crocheted by my grandmother, I almost always wear one. More than two hundred people were wandering about the house, pool, gardens, and tennis court.
For the first hour, Jim and I meandered about the house, talking to friends and work colleagues, while sampling food bites from a dozen buffets. I was heading toward one of the tended bars, questing for another white wine, and there he was. A refrained smile appeared on his face as he saw me approach. The look I wanted to find.
Again, we spent at least forty-five minutes talking as we strolled the gardens. And again, we had to be interrupted to be told it was time for me to go. And again he said, "Let's have lunch. Call me."
I had no problem with occasional sex. However, this seemed different. I enjoyed his company a bit too much. What had happened to me?
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Lunch was the next week. A small sidewalk table. Mid-afternoon. Salad at two paces. Warm bread. Dry wine. After, He asked me to his home for coffee and dessert. We walked the four blocks, buying dessert and coffee, on the way.
