A Well-Lived Life 2 - Book 10 - BridgetChapter 44: You Had Me At Hello free porn video
December 27, 1996, Minneapolis, Minnesota
“OK to get my things and come back?” she asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
I went into my room and less than five minutes later Mary returned. I got us each a bottle of water and we sat on the couch.
“I have to ask you a simple question,” I said. “If we do what you’ve made clear you want to do, how are you going to feel on Tuesday when you’re back in Rochester and I’m in Chicago?”
“I can’t predict the future, and neither can you.”
“Very true, but what problem are you trying to solve? Have you truly considered all the possible solutions? And does your chosen solution have a good chance at success?”
“This sounds suspiciously like defending a treatment plan for a patient!”
“Because, when it comes right down to it, it is. Sex is fun, and with the right partner, emotionally and mentally fulfilling. But that doesn’t mean it’s what you need. Heroin might make you feel good in the short term, but it has some seriously negative consequences.”
“You know this from experience?”
“I’ve never tried heroin,” I deadpanned.
Mary rolled her eyes, said, emphatically, “You KNOW that wasn’t what I meant!”
“If you want to be understood only one way, speak such that you can only be understood one way!”
“As if THAT were even remotely possible with you! You could twist anything I said to mean ANYTHING!”
“Maaaybeeee,” I said with a silly grin.
“Seriously, I know you’ve had quite a few partners; do you have regrets? Or maybe it’s better to ask if you’ve had bad sex.”
“Yes to both. I’m assuming you have as well?”
“Yes to both. Would you tell me?”
“I have to be a bit cagey on details,” I replied.
“Understood.”
“Physically speaking, I don’t think I’ve ever had ‘bad’ sex, but I have had sex which wasn’t emotionally fulfilling. That hasn’t happened too often, but one incident led me to completely reevaluate my sex life. As for regretting being with certain girls, there are several, and they were cases where I hurt them emotionally. A couple of incidents in High School, one of which was pretty severe; a couple in Sweden, one of which was very severe, and the really big one in the not too distant past.”
And then there was my sister, but there was no way to raise THAT issue with Mary.
“So those three major ones, or whatever you want to call them, what happened?”
“The first one, from High School, I hurt very badly emotionally because I was too immature for the kind of relationship we had. One in Sweden I also hurt emotionally because I basically led her on for years, always holding the ring just out of reach. That one is ultra-complicated because of circumstances which I really can’t get into. The third one was a complete and utter failure on my part to understand what I was doing.”
“I take it that’s the one that’s made you ultra-cautious?”
“I’ve been cautious for a long time, really. I’ve known Bethany Krajick since I was fourteen and she impressed upon me the importance of positive consent as well as the emotional risks of having sex. But I learned those after those first two girls. I totally misread the third situation, as I said. I’m not sure that young woman will ever recover from the damage that was done by her asking me to have sex with her and me agreeing.”
“If it was consensual and she initiated it, why feel guilty?”
“Because I’m responsible for my own actions. I absolutely should have refused. The fallout for both of us was tremendously bad. I’ve gotten past it; I don’t think she has.”
“I think I see where your reticence is coming from.”
“But it’s particular to you,” I replied. “Let me be blunt - I have had a LOT of sex with a LOT of women. I’m careful, but mostly it’s just to make sure they understand what I can and can’t offer. In a crass kind of way, you could call it ‘just sex’ even though oftentimes it isn’t ‘just sex’. With you, there’s a risk which isn’t there with someone like Liz, though that has its own set of risks.”
“Is she in love with you?”
“Yes. But she’s also completely realistic about it. She’s never pushed me or pressed me, and she’s dated, and had a long-term boyfriend.”
“And you’re worried about that with me?”
I shook my head, “No. That isn’t the risk with you. The risk with you is that you’ll do it, still feel lonely and unfulfilled, and therefore regret having done it. And that will make ME feel bad for not properly caring for someone I love. I’m not saying I’m ‘in love’ with you, just that I love you. Does that make sense?”
“Yes and no. I think you might be the first guy in my life to tell me he loved me as a way of NOT getting into my pants!”
“I’ve had this discussion before,” I grinned. “What about yours?”
“Bad sex? Plenty. I told you I pick the wrong guys for dates? I mostly picked the wrong ones for sex, too. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had good sex, very good sex in fact. But on balance, I’ve probably had more that’s mediocre or worse than what I’d call good. And that’s the same story I heard from most of my friends in High School, college, and medical school. Not that it was all bad, just that mostly it wasn’t that great.
“As for regrets? I gave my virginity to the wrong guy because I was a complete idiot in High School. I went for the hot-looking guys and didn’t give the time of day to a guy I later realized was in love with me and who I probably should have gone out with. When I figured that out, it was too late. My first time was with a football player whose idea of foreplay was turning on the radio in his car. Fortunately he used lubricated rubbers, because otherwise I think he’d have ripped me apart. It was two minutes of him thrusting like a madman and then it was over.
“I dumped him after a month of Friday nights like that, and foolishly still ignored the nerdy guy in favor of another athlete. He was better, and I had my first orgasm that wasn’t from my own fingers. From there, I had two steady boyfriends and several lovers over the course of college and medical school. And one guy I dated off and on last Spring. I guess the best thing I can say is that they were competent. And unless I miss my guess, you had as many lovers in eighth grade as I’ve had in my life.”
“Probably,” I replied. “But the number is only an concern if you think it’s a concern. What about friends?”
“Unlike you, who basically had all your friends end up in Chicago, my High School and college friends more or less scattered to the four winds, and in medical school it was hard to make friends, and the two good friends I did make ended up Matching in New York and Virginia. Boyfriends were even tougher because of the demands of our third and fourth years. I know you went through that with Jessica.”
“I did. I’ve talked to Al Barton about how messed up medical training is and the toll it takes on medical students and Residents. And we know the statistics for divorce, drug and alcohol abuse, and suicide for medical professionals. SOMETHING has to give. Al Barton did what he could, pushing Jessica to me and basically challenging me to help and support her.”
“And she ended up in Maine even though she had someone like you to support her.”
“So, how can I help you?” I asked.
“I knew the answer to that question last night.”
“And now?”
“I need a friend I can talk to who understands what I’m going through, but who isn’t part of it.”
Just as Gina had, I thought, though now that she was married and had kids, Bo was able to provide the kind of emotional support she needed.
I nodded, “I can do that. In fact, I want to do that.”
“You’re OK if I take long weekends in Chicago?”
“Yes, of course. Hang out with us as much as your schedule allows. Call me any time you need to talk. And, if you want, you could join us in Iron Mountain, Michigan next Summer. We have a big farmhouse we’re renting with some friends. Of course, there will be a dozen kids there, so maybe it won’t be a vacation for you!”
“Your kids are totally awesome! Are you sure that’s OK with your wives?”
“I’ll double-check, but I’m confident they’ll be fine with it. There are six bedrooms, and other places to sleep, so it won’t be a problem.”
“Speaking of sleep, can we sleep together again tonight?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t qualify your answer!”
“No, I didn’t. I’m confident you’ll make the right decision in that regard.”
“You don’t care, one way or the other?”
“Of course I care! But what I care most about is YOU making the right decision for you, and not about what I might want.”
“You really do choose your words carefully.”
“That has served me well and kept me out of some amount of trouble. I’m ready for bed if you are.”
“You can use the bathroom first,” Mary said.
I nodded and went to the bedroom, grabbed my pajamas, then went into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth, emptied my bladder, then changed into my pajamas. I grabbed my clothes and left the bathroom. Mary took her bag in and after I put my dirty clothes in the laundry bag I brought with me, I turned on the reading light, turned off the overhead lights and climbed into bed.
About five minutes later, Mary came out of the bathroom, dropped her bag on the floor, and then slipped into bed, naked as the day she was born.
“Nice,” I said.
“Nice?!” she squealed in outrage. “Nice?!”
“Hey, just because something looks appetizing doesn’t mean it’s going to taste good!”
“Did you just say I’m going to be a boring fuck?!”
“I said no such thing! ARE you going to be a boring fuck?”
“I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”
“Turn on the radio?” I smirked.
“Ha ha; very funny,” she said sarcastically.
“Tell me what I can do for you,” I said.
“I think a demonstration of the difference is necessary for me to know for sure.”
I chuckled, “Uhm, then you have to do it before you decide what you want!”
“We do have two more nights.”
“True. So?”
“Let’s start with the expert fucking and take it from there.”
“Your wish is my command,” I replied.
I sat up and removed my pajamas, then Mary and I exchanged a soft kiss. I suckled her breasts, orally pleasured her, and then did my best to fuck her unconscious. Mary was anything but a boring fuck, and her firm body and tight tunnel felt fantastic. She had four good orgasms before I had my release.
“Jesus,” she said when we finished, her breath ragged and her body covered with a light sheen of perspiration.
“Satisfactory, then?” I teased.
“Think Jessica and Kara would rent you to me?” she teased.
“I believe they’ll lend me, from time to time, at least until you find the right guy. And you have to work on that.”
“I think I just needed an attitude adjustment and talking with you helped a lot.”
“I’m glad,” I said.
I kissed her softly then repeated suckling her breasts and pleasuring her with my lips and tongue, then helped her into the ‘adulting’ position Liz and I used. Mary rode me gently, her nipples tracing lines along my chest, achieving four more very good orgasms before I had mine. When we finished, she lay on top of me, and I wrapped my legs around her.
“That was amazing,” Mary breathed. “I can’t believe someone so powerful can be so gentle. That was like night and day.”
“And which did you prefer?”
“Ask me after several more experiments!” she said with a soft laugh.
“I have no objections.”
“I do have a surprise for you,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I learned to deep throat during High School!”
“Only if you want to,” I said.
“I enjoy doing it for a guy who appreciates ME.”
She slid down and gave me one of the best blowjobs I’d ever had, easily slipping my glans past the constriction at the back of her mouth. When she had me close, she kept just my glans in her mouth, stroked me with her hand, licked, and sucked until I had my release. When my last spurt fired, she took me all the way into her mouth and gently sucked me for a couple of minutes, then moved up, impaled herself on me, and lay on top of me. We exchanged a soft French kiss and she ground against me until she had another orgasm.
“You aren’t a boring fuck,” I whispered in her ear.
“I know,” she replied smugly.
December 28, 1996, Minneapolis, Minnesota
When the alarm went off, Mary and I showered together, then I went down to run on the treadmill. When I returned to the room, she climbed into the shower with me and ensured I was clean, top to bottom, before we dried off, dressed, and went to breakfast.
“What are we doing this afternoon?” John asked.
“We actually didn’t have a plan,” I replied.
“How about we go to a movie?” Sheryl asked. “We could see Jerry Maguire.”
“I’m game,” I said.
“Me, too,” Mary replied.
“There’s no hockey to watch?” Dmitry asked.
“The last game is at noon,” I replied. “Then everyone has the afternoon off before the knockout round starts in the morning.”
“Then I suppose a movie is OK.”
“It’s about a sports agent,” Sheryl offered.
“Not quite the same!” I chuckled.
When we finished breakfast, we stayed at the table and drank coffee until it was time to leave for the rink.
Once again, the game was close fought, each team giving up a goal, but with less than two minutes to go, Nicole picked off an errant pass and skated in on a breakaway, wristing a shot through the five-hole of the goalie, giving Jesse’s team their third victory, 2-1.
“They won their group!” Jennifer screamed as the buzzer sounded.
“Fortunately, the Canadian teams both won their divisions, so we avoid them in the first round,” Josie said. “We’ll play one of the second-place teams from the other groups. And we can only meet the team we drew against in the finals, the way the brackets work.”
“Do they play a Canadian team?” I asked.
“Yes, which is unfortunate for them. We’re going to get Jesse. He and Mikey are going to play with his Nintendo 64 and just chill this afternoon and evening. We’ll get them naps and get them in bed early as well.”
“We’re going to see Jerry Maguire,” I said. “You two are welcome to join us.”
“Sure. The boys will be fine at the hotel, and you know Jesse will nap without being told to. And Mikey’s mom was planning to stay in this afternoon, too.”
“See you at lunch?” I asked.
“Yep.”
Jennifer and Josie went to get Jesse, and about forty minutes later, all of us gathered at a diner for lunch. After lunch, we went to the movie, which all of us greatly enjoyed. When we left the theater, Jennifer gently pulled me aside.
“You know, that line was true for you and me back in Junior High School.”
“Which line?” I asked.
“‘You had me at hello‘,” she replied with a smile.
“And here we are, twenty years later, still together, with our own Little Duck.”
“He’s not very little at this point!” Jennifer protested.
“He’ll ALWAYS be our Little Duck, even when he’s married and has kids!”
“It’s hard to believe it’s been twenty years,” Jennifer said quietly.
“Nineteen since we made love, but more than twenty since we first met. And I’m very glad we met.”
“Me, too. I just wish there had been less drama.”
“If that were the case, we might not have ended up where we did.”
“You’re probably right. I love you, Steve.”
“I love you, Jen. Join us for dinner?”
“I think we can do that. We’re just making sure the kids get enough rest. There are three games to go.”
About two hours later, we all met for dinner at a buffet, and I watched the two very hungry hockey players load up on food. There were days when Jesse ate more than I did, and I wondered what his appetite would be like at fifteen. Well, his FOOD appetite. The other one was being carefully stoked by quite a few beautiful young girls, any of which might nab him first, though Francesca still had the inside track, unless Carol carried through on her threat to move away.
After dinner, Jennifer and Josie took Jesse back to their hotel and I called home. After I finished my call, the rest of us went to a bar with live music and had an enjoyable evening. As she had the previous two nights, Mary came to my room.
“Think the tub will hold two?” Mary asked.
“Sure. We just need some bubble bath.”
“There’s some on the toiletries tray in the bathroom. It’s lavender; is that OK?”
“My favorite scent,” I replied.
Ten minutes later we were soaking in a tub full of sudsy water, my arms around Mary, with her snuggled back against me.
“Your wives are VERY lucky,” she said.
“They think so,” I chuckled. “But I’ve also been responsible for a lot of drama in our relationships. That’s especially true for Kara.”
I slipped my hand down along Mary’s stomach and gently slid my finger between her legs. I began gently massaging her clit, and then moved my other hand to one of her breasts.
“Just relax and let me,” I said quietly.
“Yes,” she sighed.
I pleasured her until the water cooled, giving her a series of gentle orgasms, and when we got out of the tub, we had a rip-roaring, headboard-banging, mattress-squeaking, grunting and groaning fuck.
“God damn,” Mary gasped when I finally slipped from her.
“I think we’re going to need some clean sheets,” I chuckled. “We didn’t dry off.”
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