Sex and Pussy; A Journey Through the Decades Part 5

At this time I would be remiss if I did not introduce the sexual abuse I had suffered.  It played a part in the development of my sexual identity, I cannot deny it did not.  There is no trigger warning here, though there will be later if I can finally write about the details of it.  I'm not promising I can, I've tried before and haven't succeeded.   At this point, I had remembered something happened, but not what.  I had a strong suspicion my father was involved, but I wasn't certain of this, it was just a feeling.  I was in counseling, but memories were vague and fragmented at best.  I remember something about the summer of '69, when I was 7 years old, but not the beginning or the end.  I remember looking at the date on the calendar in the hallway of the farmhouse connecting the main house to the kitchen.  It was a very old farmhouse and it was common for the kitchen to be a separate building.  The hall had been built some time later.  I remember going to the end of the hall to the sink, and inside the sink was the biggest spider I had ever seen!  End of memory.  I knew there was more, and that it was something significant, but I wasn't able to pull it out.  I remembered something else as well.  Someone had done something to me under water, not during a bath, but in the lake where we swam on the farm.  I didn't know what or who, but it is why I hate swimming to this day.  The counselor had me drawing lots of things, whatever came to mind and this was supposed to evoke memories.  It helped, but what is buried so deeply isn't easily discovered.  It would be more than another decade before I knew the full extent of it.  I'm not sure I do to this day, but I know enough of it that I am not tortured by the nightmares any longer.  I have resolved enough to have healed. The scars remind me it was real, it happened and I didn't just make it up from a childish and overactive imagination.   

That out of the way, now is the time I would fall in love for the first time in my life.  I had entered into Stark Technical College, on my way to becoming a nurse.  I was sitting in my Abnormal Psych class when he walked in.  I have to admit I was impressed but he was skinny.  Ron had been skinny so I decided I wasn't dating skinny men.  He looked a lot like George Michael, a passionately wild pop star crush I had.  Still, I paid him no attention in class, but I watched his every move.  He had captivated me but I wasn't going to admit it.  His name was Gordon Lane Brooks and I had captivated him as well.   

One day after class, Gordon asked me come with him to a nearby park. Price park was lovely, and it was a quiet and peaceful break between classes.  He had a red camaro and I felt amazing to be riding in it with him!  When he got within a few feet of me, the sexual electricity and tension was as intense as it was with Mike, but I wasn't going to act on it because after all, I was a lady with a golden pussy.  It wasn't proper.  I had to wait for him to make the first move, and I honestly didn't know what my response would be.  I suppose it would depend upon when he would make his move, if he made one at all.  I had no way of knowing if he felt the electricity burning between us, or if it was just me. Thanks to Amber, I was educated on the third date rule.  The rule was, if you like a guy enough to continue dating him, sex was expected on the third date. This was confusing to me, because in my mind if I had sex with someone, we were in a relationship.  This seemed awfully risky to have sex with someone without a relationship commitment.  I didn't even know if the park was considered a first date, since it was an impromptu invitation after class.  This dating and sex business was fraught with rules and expectations I knew nothing about.  I never dated in high school, my husband was my first and dates consisted mostly of hanging out with his stoner friends.  I tried pot, but it didn't do anything for me.  I didn't understand the attraction.  Amber was my sexpert, so as long as there wasn't a fundamental moral high ground I needed to perch upon, I followed her advice.   

The hour or so in the park went well.  We didn't really talk a lot, instead just enjoyed relaxing and watching the ducks from the shores of the pond.  It was nice to lay in the grass and not worry about something, and simply enjoy the moment.  It was bliss.  I tried not to act too much like a school girl in love, but I don't suppose I succeeded.  I think he loved my naivete.   I was quite innocent for being twenty five years old.  Mike remained a dark secret, that mirror image of morality so if the subject came up, my husband was my first and only sexual partner.  I told the lie so many times, there were moments I actually believed it myself.  Gordon treated me like the lady I was, he didn't even try to hold my hand though when our hands accidentally brushed against each other, my heart beat so loudly I was sure he could hear it and the butterflies in my stomach made me dizzy.  I was sure I was going to faint if he actually touched me.  When he dropped me back off at school, he asked me to go to the ballet with him.  I casually (so I thought) accepted!  I was gliding on clouds the rest of the day, and every day after until the weekend.  So much for not wanting to date another skinny guy, I was in love and I didn't even know it yet.  It was love at first sight. 

He picked me up to go to the ballet.  Thanks to my friend Chris, who owned an upscale boutique clothing store, I always had an outfit to wear.  Her hand me downs were clothes out of magazines.  They were ahead of fashion for our little Canton, OH town and always different for the culture of the city.  I always stood apart from the crowd and I loved it.  She picked the dress and the accessories and I have to admit, I felt like Cinderella going to the ball.  He admired my flushed beauty and we were off for the evening.   He opened the car door for me, and he held my hand as we walked to the theater.  My heart was fluttering and I was lightheaded.  Blood rushed through my veins, I could barely breathe and I could barely contain my excitement, but I tried to remain aloof and seemingly unimpressed. Gordon impressed the hell out of me.  He was a gentleman, and treated me with class and respect.  No one had ever treated me so well, not any of the dozens of men I had dated, no one.  I can't remember a thing about the ballet, Gordon sat next to me and held my hand.  The world stopped and this was all I knew.   

The ballet was finished and we went for dinner afterward.  I don't remember anything about that, either.  All I remember was his smile, the twinkle in his blue eyes, his laughter.  I remember how he didn't seem to want to be near me without touching some part of me, and with every touch my pussy longed for another.  There wasn't anything sexual about the touches.  He would brush a stray hair out of my face, stroke my hand, rub my arms against the cold air conditioning while he wrapped his suit jacket around me.  I didn't think I would survive the night, and if I should die during dinner, I would have had a blissful death.  We shared desert and the night was coming to a close.   

He drove me home and it was filled with anticipation.  I wanted him to take me, but I didn't want him to take me either.  I wanted the anticipation to last a while longer.  I wanted him to kiss me but didn't know if he would.  I wanted to invite him in for "coffee" now that I knew what this meant but didn't want to appear forward.  It was very confusing.  I didn't understand why women were at the mercy of what a man might do.  The suspense was exhilarating!  What I wanted and what I ending up doing might be two very different things.  My head was spinning and my heart was pounding.  Gordon would be the first lover I had since the marriage ended.  I loved how sophisticated that sounded.  I was worldly enough of a woman to consider a lover.  We got to my home and he walked me to the door.  His eyes burned into mine and the moment lasted forever.  He said he had a really good time and wanted to see me again.  I said I would like that.  He leaned over to kiss me.  I tried to hold back my passion, to reign it in to something ladylike but I didn't succeed very well.  All he could say was "Wow, you have been taking my breath away all night."  He turned to leave and I stood and watched him drive away until I couldn't see the car.  His cologne lingered in the night air.  I was frozen and couldn't go into the house until the last drop of him drifted into away toward the stars.  Even the stars were twinkling with excitement tonight.  When I finally did open the door, I collapsed against the back of it, unable to walk another step.