I put my arm over her shoulder, kissed her cheek, and said, "Desi, believe me, I am not angry, though I feel sad right along with you. And I totally understand what you are telling me. I do love you and I truly do wish only the best for you. Your happiness has always been in the forefront for me. I recognize my flaws but I am, at least for now, willing to live with them. It pains me that they have caused you pain and you shouldn't have to live with them. I can see where they would make any life that we might have had together, children or not, very difficult....if not impossible."
A few more sips of tea, a kiss on my cheek, and Desi said, "Well, there is one more thing I must do here...I must fetch my things from your bedroom...my scrubs, underwear, and toothbrush. Would you help me to that?"
Off we went down the hall to the bedroom As she was taking her things out of the dresser drawer that I had set aside for them, Desi dropped a pair of her panties on the floor. We both crouched down at the same time to pick them up. Our faces were within inches of each other. Desi leaned into me and kissed me, a soft, chaste kiss. I kissed her back with anything but a chaste kiss. Desi dropped everything in her hands and pulled me to her. Kissing was not all we were about to do.
Our clothes came off, tossed in all directions, and we tumbled naked onto the bed. Desi loves to kiss so we took a lot of time kissing, exploring with our tongues, kissing each other...all over other parts of our bodies, too. I traced Desi's breasts with my lips before I applied my lips to her nipples which sent thrills through her body.
Gradually I worked my way down to where I knew she wanted me to be, every bit as much as I wanted to be there. My probing her smooth labia with my tongue heightened Desi's pleasure, and my tongue contacting her clitoris amped it up even more. She was ready quickly. It surprised me but it was only moments before she climaxed; and only a few moments after that when she had another orgasm. She held her hands behind my head as I continued to ply her clitoris with my tongue and pressed me into her once more. Her third orgasm left her limp, breathing hard.
"I shall miss that, Drummond, "Desi said breathing hard, "I shall miss that as much as anything. I do love you, Drummond!"
Once she recovered her composure, Desi inquired, "Drummond, my love, you did not cum? We must do something about that...right away!"
Well, she did indeed do something about that. She had my cock in her mouth and half way down her warm throat before I had a chance to say, "How about a blow job?"
On a scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being the best, my orgasm was an 11. I shot so much semen into Desi that I worried she might truly choke on it. She wasn't about to let that happen; what she didn't swallow right away, she licked up afterwards. I had gotten so used to hearing her purr her "MMMmmmMM' sounds.
"Desi," I crooned, "I will definitely miss THAT!"
As we sat on the bed afterwards, out backs against the headboard, we caressed each other' cheeks and lightly kissed...just pecking. I asked Desi, "It may be none of my business but have you had sex with your 'new man' yet? Is it good for you?"
"Oh, yes, we have had sex," Desi said calmly, "he is very good. I have had my share of orgasms and...well...you know...I make sure he cums as well. But there is one difference...and it is strange. You have worn a condom when your penis is inside me; he does not. I have gotten accustomed to the condom and the sensation I get from that. It is different than his bare cock. I rather like the condom. But both he and I want me to get pregnant and that won't happen with him wearing a condom! But, Drummond, I rather like you doing it to me, condom or not!"
Desi shifted her position, held my cheeks in her hands, looked me in the eye and said, "My dearest Drummond, I shall miss you and I shall miss this so very much. I will NEVER forget you!"
"Desi, my heart is aching, too," I said as I took her hands in mine and kissed her fingers, "I shall miss you, and...well, Desi...how could I forget you? You are unforgettable!"
We got ourselves cleaned up--one last play session in the shower. Desi bundled up her things, and we said our good-byes to each other at the door.
"Here's a kiss for luck," I said to Desi as I brushed her lips with mine, "you deserve all the good luck, happiness and love there is, my dear."
She kissed me back and whispered in my ear, "Drummond, it is because of the happiness and love that that you have given me that I know there is more of that in the world. I love you."
I watched her tall, lithe body gliding down the long sidewalk to the street. My heart did ache.
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Having Desi leave was like a negative orgasm: it starts to build, reaches its peak, and gradually subsides. That what I felt missing Desi. At first it was painful, then it got really painful, and ebbed a way a little at a time. Body lotion and facial tissues would not solve it, the wacky stock market couldn't distract me from it, and even the prospect of a new woman in my life would not make it go away--but it did help.
You guessed it, Hildegard's friend--Brita!
I told you what Brita is like in general, from my first impression of her. Well, that did not describe her loveliness enough. She was in her mid-thirties, divorced from her husband in one of the Scandinavian countries--which one is unimportant--and was here on a visa looking for work, pretty much as a rebound from her divorce and to make a new start here. Physically, Brita is Deidre at 125%. I said I thought Brita was tall, well she was 5'8"(1.7+m) and about 140lbs (63+kg), but with an athletic build. How does 36C-Cup sound?
Brita was a furniture designer and interior designer who had some chops in her home country and was trying to break into the American market. Her métier was not the cheap, ubiquitous, mass-produced, composite press board pieces that one sees so much of nowadays. She worked on high-end items and larger projects, such as society mansions, and corporate executive offices. She was known in America but had not done much in terms of the American market before this. She was financially secure, having protected most of her assets. Many of her designs were patented or copyrighted so she had a fairly regular income stream separate and apart from her fees from ongoing projects. If I had been looking for a woman, she was it. The only thing about it was that her money made no difference to me.
Brita and what my GM (GrandMA) would call a "winning" personality. Brita was in a word, Delightful, but she was also focused and driven when it came to her art--and she called it "ART", not product, nor business, nor even a project. She could disappear for a week or more conceptualizing and creating designs for her clients--"patrons", she liked to call them. Once approved, she managed every detail of the actual production and installation of her designs. A remarkable woman all around.
All of this I didn't know until I actually met Brita. Naturally, Hildegard was instrumental in this. She doesn't miss a trick and figured out, just from that one brief meeting, that I had interest in following up with Brita. Clever, clever Hildegard. She decided, with my approval, that I needed to completely launder all off my linens, except those she just put on my bed. She bundled all of my towels, sheets, pillowcases, and bathmats on the floor. I was going to help her take all of that with her but she would have none of it.
"AAch!, Mr. Drummond!" Hildegard chortled, "Do not trouble yourself with it. And don't worry about my poor old back, I will have help."
Well, the help came in the person of Brita who arrived to pick up Hildegard when her cleaning was done. Now, as I said, Brita was fit, and had sturdy Scandinavian DNA but even she couldn't deal with the pile of laundry Hildegard had amassed. I pitched in with Brita and, between the two of us got everything moved into Brita's SUV.
"Brita, it is so nice of you to help with this," I broke the ice, "I understand from Hildegard that you are here developing your business. It is wonderful of you to take the time to help your friend Hildegard with her things...transportation...and...things."
"Hildegard! She is so funny!" Brita chuckled, then said quietly so Hildegard couldn't hear, "don't you dare tell her I told you this but I am more than a friend to Hildegard...she is my step-mother... Why she doesn't want you to know that, I don't know. But, as you Americans say, 'Keep it under your hat', O.K.?"
I doubled down on that, "Yes, Hildegard has been so very nice to me, too. My place never gets dirty or out of order, not that I'm a disorderly type to begin with...you know."
"Is that so?," Brita questioned, "Hildegard hasn't said. I suppose the code of 'Housekeeper Confidentiality' prevents her from revealing 'secrets'. But I could guess from your laundry what you might be up to."
Brita's smile that accompanied that open-ended comment, made me a little nervous, I probed, "Oh? Hmmmm...What, pray tell, might you discern from my laundry that would be so interesting?"
"Well, for one thing...you're a bachelor," she said in an analytical mode, "but I knew that from what Hildegard told me. But I see traces of that on your sheets to convince me of that"
