This is a story about a long time friendship that turns in to a true love story. Follow this journey of almost 30 years and the nearly 30 years it took to get to be a Slow Love. Journalist Karen G Neil, (GiGi to her friends) has a long past with Pr...
Arriving back at the chalet, the staff had finished up for the day, again leaving the fireplace lit. Walking hand in hand through the chalet, deciding where to go, "Sweetheart, what's on the agenda for the rest of the evening? Movie...hot tub...sex...chit-chat?" He stops behind me, pulling my hand back to him. I swing around to meet him face to face. "Baby, all the above, except sex, it's making love to my wife. We make love, not sex."
I put my hand on my hip, cock my head to the side, "Really now? How do you figure that? We had 'unadulterated sex' last night over there on the sofa. That was not making love, it was mad, raging sex. Explain that to me, please?" Lowering his head, "Uh-oh" Chin down, barely looking up at me, "Baby, well that doesn't count. I apologize for last night."
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I kiss him, take his hand to lead him to the sofa, "Sweetheart, chit-chat time is up first on the agenda. Get comfy, I'll grab us a cup of coffee." I head to the kitchen to make the coffee. While the coffee is making, I think I know what's going on. His emotions are so high and intense, the sex counteracts the painful feelings with the good feelings of ecstasy. He's been fucking his troubles away for years, this is hardly any different. Well, maybe? The difference is, now he is working through his troubles first. Whereas before, he just buried them away and fucked his heart out because it felt so much better. Well, it's true...he won't deny it.
Coffee's done, I plate a few cookies to feed his sweet tooth. Today's session with Steve was probably not as intense as yesterday so we should be good tonight, no sexathon. Not that I'm complaining, he's always so insatiable. It's really out of character when it's occasionally difficult for him to go a second round without a rest period, but 8-10 times in a row in less than an hour. Geez, I lost count after 7, our honeymoon was nothing like that. Unless, hmmm, he's not been a Viagra man... I'll have to ask him. Maybe, just maybe, he is 56 after all...not 20something. Hum?
When he sees me, he springs up to help. I have two mugs by the handle in one hand and a small plate of butter cookies in the other. "Baby, thanks. The cookies look delicious." He grabs one off the plate and pops it into his mouth. We get situated on the sofa with our coffee and cookies. I'm facing him but he won't look at me directly. "Sweetie, you need to tell me what is going on with you. Are you taking Viagra to fuck all your troubles away?" I should have waited until he wasn't sipping his coffee, he gagged and almost blew his coffee all over me.
"Whoa! Absolutely not! I don't take Viagra, you know that. Baby, I admit, last night was unfair to you. Seriously, I don't know what is causing me to do that other than I'm very much addicted to you. It feels so good with you, I don't want to stop. I love connecting with you on that higher level." He's holding my free hand, the other one is holding a cup of coffee. I lean back into the sofa cushions contemplating what he said. He's kissing my hand, "Baby, I love you. I would never use you as a sex object. You are my love and my wife."
Rubbing the familiar circular pattern over my knuckles with his thumb. He knows I'm not going to drop the subject. I grasp his hand in mine, holding his fingers. "Sweetheart, I love you. We need to ask Steve what is happening to you with that. I have a feeling that there's a direct correlation to you having a stressful session. Okay?" He nods.
