Cape May

The Aftermath

Things worked out really good because right after grandmas' funeral, Holly took the kids to Maine to spend three weeks with her parents. It was a summer ritual we did every year, not that I was overjoyed about it, but in life there are compromises. I told her I would stay with my mother to help her work things out and for support. It couldn't have worked out more perfect.

That week and the following, Gaby and me met as lovers do. At first, we met at the hotel in Mahwah where she was staying at then after a few days, I decided to do it right. By some miracle of luck, I was able to book a premier suite at the Marriott Marquis on the 47th floor. Talk about making memories!

Those two weeks, Gabby and me tried, we really tried to make up for seventeen years of lost lust, desire and just all out sinful passions. At the Marriott, our floor to ceiling windows afforded a panoramic view of Broadway below and New York's City's Skyline. At night, the entire city lit up and became the backdrop for our sexual insanities. To come inside her as we looked out into this postcard setting was quite the experience. We did not bother to use pillows as silencers and so several times during our stay security was called to our room to make sure everything was ok. They wanted to know if the lady was alright.

As I've said once before, it is impossible to distinguish the sounds of pain from pleasure in a woman.

It was a joyous time. Two weeks of delirium. I finally had the woman of my life, the love I yearned for all these years. There was a lot of screaming, a lot of crying, a lot of loving. It would take a lifetime to satiate our needs and desires for one another. I took her every which way. She offered herself to me every which way. She became my mistress, my master, my lover, my whore.

The ten or so pounds she gained in those seventeen years only served to allow for more pounding, more abuse. She withstood my onslaught valiantly, her voluptuousness absorbing it all. If ever there was a woman born to fuck, Gabby was her. There are certain women who are born sturdy. Whose bodies are made to take it hard time after time, who can give as well as take. And just when you think they are down for the count, they rise and drain a man of his last ounce of energy, sap him of his strength and leave him lying helplessly in a spent heap, unable to do much of anything but smile the satisfying smile of a man who has just been to heaven.

Such a woman was Gabby.

We loved, we rested, we loved some more. And we made plans. Gabby would leave John, get divorced, take custody of her kids and move back to New York. I would divorce Holly and probably not get full custody, but visitation rights. I could live with that. We would live together as planned. To the outside world we were getting over divorces, which could test anyone's finances, so therefore living together as roommates, sharing a house or apartment just made sense. It was all planned out.