Do you know the difference between love and lust? I'm really not sure I do. A wise man once said you're in love when you put her welfare and happiness ahead of yours. I suppose that's a good enough definition for me. Of course when do you know, in a crunch, that you'd really do that?
Everybody knows what lust is. A desire so strong if you are left without satisfaction you suffer. But you'll get over it, easily, perhaps just minutes later.
I know what jealousy is. That's the feeling I had when I found my wife was having an affair. I was hurt, I was angry, I was sure she didn't love me. When we had the first talk I told her if there was any chance of us saving our relationship, she had to stop; she promised she would. For eight months we worked hard, marriage counselors, long talks at night, weekends at bed and breakfasts. I was almost there, in the times I remembered about her and him I didn't get quite so perturbed any more. Yes, that's when I found the hotel room charge on her credit card. That's jealousy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Just a few weeks into my relationship with Alicia, I wondered if what I was feeling was jealousy. I always associated the feeling with love - if you're not in love, how can you be jealous? But I certainly felt something.
I knew Alicia slept around. I picked her up at a bar one Friday night, a rather plain looking woman, soft auburn hair, almost no makeup, thick lips, austere bifocals. But she filled her blouse out well, when she leaned into me at the bar I could see the lace of her bra. She waited for me to make the offer, her only question was, "Is your place clean?"
"Moderately so."
"The first thing I'm going to do is go into the bathroom, if the toilet isn't sparkling you can expect me to leave."
I shook my head, it'd been a few days since I'd swabbed the floor. "Well, how about your place then?"
"No good. I never invite a guy home, I can't have any chance of my son figuring it out."
God, I wanted her. "How about a hotel?"
"Now you're talking," she agreed, the nearby Comfort Inn would be fine. "If the room isn't clean, we can simply ask for another one."
Shy wasn't in this girl's vocabulary. She stripped for me almost immediately, I was delighted by her bare pubes, she knew her way around my cock. I was this close to coming from her blow job at least four times, she kept doing something that blocked me. She couldn't keep her body still while I ate her, flailing her arms and moaning so loudly I wondered if the people passing by the door could hear. And when she climbed on top of me, started thrashing around on my cock, her glasses slid off her nose and clattered to the floor. But she didn't stop to worry about that, intent only on her own pleasure. I could hold off only long enough to make sure she was in orgasm.
Her cell had beeped during our struggles, she paused to look at it. "Nothing important," she admitted, "I had to know if my son needs me. But it's only a guy, probably looking for a booty call."
She turned on her stomach, we talked.
"Are you married?" I asked.
"Used to be. Are you?"
"It only lasted a couple of years," I admitted.
"She was fucking around on you, wasn't she? How long have you been divorced?"
"Nineteen months. You?"
"Going on five years now. We have a son, nine years old, joint custody. This week he's at his dad's place."
"That's got to be rough."
"Not really," she said. "I divorced him, I was a virgin when we got married and I knew our sex sucked, he didn't want it to get better. Other issues, too, of course, money and he could be an asshole. So it's better for my son this way. He's still got both parents, we both love him, and this way I get to fuck around every other week."
We started again, it took me another half hour to get ready for the encore, an interlude that suited her perfectly. She responded to my tongue and touches as a trained race horse does, orgasming blazingly. I found her nipples loved to be bitten softly, I found I liked the same treatment. She sucked on my toes, laughing when I shook with tension. When I was finally ready we went through the paces again, she sat on the credenza while I screwed her, she draped herself over the back of the chair spreading her legs around the small of my back. She seemed finally done, she laid sedately on her back while I prodded into her, encouraging me to reach completion once again.
"So how did you get so good at sex?"
"Practice," Alicia laughed. "Believe it or not, I never had an orgasm until after I got divorced. Not even from masturbation. After we were separated I let this guy take me out, I figured it was time I moved on, and as soon as he put it in me I went off! I wasn't quite sure what it was, not then, but when we got together a couple weeks later there it was again! And I learned I could bring myself off in bed by myself. Or in the bathtub, or in the living room, or . . . " She laughed, a soft giggle. "We dated for four months and it started getting a little serious so I broke it off, and I picked up a guy at a bar one night. Yep, fireworks again. One of my girlfriends who'd been around the block seduced me, and I found out girls can be almost as good as guys. And she explained to me what guys like, she showed me how to give a blowjob to a banana . . . You going to leave now?"
"Not if you don't want me to."
"Cool. Buy me breakfast."
We woke up around four in the morning, it was quick but satisfying. And at nine o'clock, we spent a great fifteen minutes in the shower, then we spent twenty-five on the bed and we showered again. I ran out of condoms, but it turned out she had a three-pack in her purse. "For emergencies," she tittered.
Over the grand slam, I asked if I could see her that night. "Sorry, I've got a date. But here's my number. Don't be worried if it takes me a couple of days to get back to you, I don't want my son to know what his mother does in her spare time."
I hit the bar again the next night, accompanied by my friend, Jimmy. We made the rounds, I told him about this fantastic brunette who screwed my brains out the night before. We had some luck with this pair of divorcees, and they wanted us to go back to their place. But I wasn't in the mood. Had I had enough sex for one weekend? That'd never been a problem for me before. I told Jimmy to go ahead without me, he later told me he'd slept with both of them, but Jimmy had a certain lack of preciseness in the story, I assumed he'd struck out.
