But the most memorable part of the evening was seeing Paul’s handsome face above me as we fucked. Unlike other men, who grimace and strain when they cum, Paul had this almost angelic look to him as he finished. Call me strange, weird, or whatever else, but I think that was when it happened.
It.
That.
In the days to come, I just could not get Paul out of my mind. Lord knows I tried. It scared me that I was obsessing over a man. In between seeing him, I longed for him, missed him, wondered what he was doing, and checked the time to see how long until we met. But it got worse as the sex got better. You know, how as two lovers become more familiar with each other, everything seems better? And then you get those feelings…
As if that was not enough, Paul reciprocated in kind with the way he responded; how in those early days, he stopped seeing his butterfly just to be with me every night. And worse of all. It took me two weeks before I realized that I had not even thought of being with another man other than Paul.
Still, while spending most of our time together, Paul and I had not discussed exclusivity or anything of the sort. In fact, I had seen him and his butterfly bamby together talking while sitting close on a bench. I said nothing to them, but they had seemed cozy, and I did not want to interrupt his moment. Not that I would not have wanted to, but because I didn’t want Paul to hold it against me.
But it had bugged me. Not that I saw Paul with his bamby, but the fact that it bothered me. That was the thinking of others, not me. Not Paula. So I moved on and reminded myself that Paul and I had not demanded expectations of each other. No. Not us. That was what other people did. Right?
***
I was finishing up a paper for class when I got a call. There was no caller ID then, so I didn’t know who it was.
“Paul?” I replied instinctively.
“Who’s Paul?” I heard Frank Jeffers’s voice on the other end.
“Sorry, Frank, I thought it was someone else.”
“No. Just same-ol me. What’s up with you? I haven’t seen you for a while.”
And here is where one realizes that their old lover was indeed just a friend with benefits, nothing more.
“I’m sorry, Frank, but things have been….”
“Say no more,” he cut me off. “So long as you are OK, that’s all that matters.”
“That’s the thing, Frank. I’m not myself. I’m not OK.”
“Do you want to come over?” he asked.
“Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll be there.”
“See you then,” he replied.
The paper had been ready to turn in, but I had been obsessing over it. Or maybe it wasn’t the paper. Perhaps it was that Paul had a “previous engagement,” and I had understood what that probably meant – time between the sheets with his butterfly. And why not? I thought. After all, wasn’t I the queen of no commitments and no exclusivity? Why had I even thought of such things between Paul and I?
The sex with Frank was good as always. Frantic even, on my part. It was as if I wanted to exorcise Paul’s effect on me by fucking myself on Frank’s thick cock.
“Jeez, Paula! What’s come over you tonight?”
I had just cum for the umpteenth time and wanted more as I rode my previous professor cowgirl style. Yet I was still not sated by our fucking. Flopping over on my back, I spread my legs for him.
“Fuck me, Frank, fuck me hard.”
He looked at me for a second as if trying to figure out what I was about, then gave in to my offer. Frank’s thick cock had just been inside me, yet his reentry parted my wonton flesh until he was deep inside anew. My body responded to his thrusts with a mind of its own. I felt the oncoming orgasms I am blessed to attain vaginally and let them wash over me. In the next half hour that Frank pounded and possessed me, I came repeatedly, but I still had something… someone in the back of my mind.
“Just fuck me… harder… do me….”
Poor Frank. He did as I asked, giving me what I needed as he always did, but as usual, he didn’t finish himself with me. I often wondered if he reserved that privilege for one of the other ladies he serviced. After a while, I stopped him as I needed a small break.
“Frank, is there a special woman in your life? Someone that you actually cum with?”
His first instinct was to look at me apologetically. Then his expression changed into one that betrayed some sorrow if one knew where to look.
“There is one,” he replied with a soft tone — almost regretful. “Please don’t be offended, Paula.”
“I’m not Frank,” I replied. “We’re friends. You can tell me.”
“She is a woman I can’t have,” he replied, looking at the ceiling; apparently, he was somewhere else just then. “I’ve known her for two years.”
“She must be someone special.”
“That she is,” Frank sighed. “The only woman that can make me cum. Strange, isn’t it?”
In that instant, no matter how good-looking I knew I was, no matter how many men lusted after me, I felt inadequate. No matter how many men I had pleased in bed fully, Frank was the one to whom giving the ultimate pleasure eluded me. The eternal question popped to my head to taunt me. ‘What does she have that I haven’t got?’
“She is married,” Frank continued. “Married with two children, Paula.”
“Frank, are you? I mean, are you and this woman in love?”
He merely nodded — not being able to say the words.
“And her?” I asked curiously. “This woman….”
“Karen. Her name is Karen.”
“What about her?”
“She loves her husband,” he replied. “She won’t leave him. He is in the military and gone much of the time.”
“Wow, Frank,” I said. “The soldiers have a word for you, don’t they?”
Garry had told me what soldiers called the mythical universal lover and tormentor of all soldiers: Jodie.
“Yeah, I know it. I was in the service once.”
“You were?”
“I was in the Corps.”
“The what?”
“The Marines,” he clarified.
“I see,” I replied.
I wondered if Frank felt guilty about carrying on with a service man’s wife.
“And what does she think of you? Does she know how special she is to you?”
“Yes, we both do.”
“And?”
“Karen will not break up their family. There is still love there between her and her man. She is torn between us.”
“Wow! I replied. “She is in love with two men?”
“Unlike you and I that are in love with just one person,” Frank replied.
“What do you mean?” I said defensively.
“Come on, Paula,” he scoffed. “I know you well enough. You’re in love.”
I said nothing as if by staying quiet, I could deny it and keep it from being true.
“So who is this Paul character? You used his name when I called,” Frank turned with a knowing gaze. “The way you said his name… it was the way a woman does when she is thinking of a man when he calls. A special man.”
I thought of looking away and denying my feelings for Paul, but after what Frank has shared with me, I felt a kinship with him. If anyone could understand where I was with Paul, it had to be a friend in love with a woman he longed for and could not possess.
“I met him three weeks ago,” I sighed, letting Frank know of my predicament. “We went out on a date, and….”
“You? A date? I thought that was… how did you put it? ‘Basic and conventional?’ he smirked.
“OK, Frank. Stop mocking me.”