She Disconnects When The Door Closes

The secret trip to Chicago was very good.  Interesting, revealing, fun, sexy and a much needed release.  I’ve talked about the concept of an escort crush.  Charlotte definitely falls under that category for me.  Too much so.

The new twist is that I actually have left my wife. Not for Charlotte, but definitely due to a series of realizations that occurred while I was with her. Charlotte and I had several relationship discussions during our previous weekend together. Her relationships and mine.

This weekend is my first extended date since T and I agreed on the divorce. Seeing Charlotte at this particular time is no accident.  Symbolic for me. I am moving forward.

I tell T and my friends at home that I’m going to stay at my dad’s place for the weekend (an hour’s drive away).  In reality, I go to the airport and fly half way across the country on Saturday morning.  I reserve different hotels for Saturday and Sunday nights, I only expect to see Charlotte on Saturday, and will stay in the other place alone on Sunday.

Charlotte is a little nervous that she had said something to influence me in the divorce. I assure her that coincidence is not causality.   Nor have I come to express my undying love.  I confess I have some feelings for her.  However, I’m smart enough to realize that I am not emotionally clear right now. She has some feelings too, but knows better.  She is well defended. I don’t blame her.

“I disconnect when the door closes. I have to.  I’ll be here each time you come back. In between, I let it go. You should too.”  Good Advice

We end up crashed at her place for two days and nights .  I cancel the second hotel. During these two days, she gives me a small glimpse of being the courtesan’s companion.

Saturday we stay up all night. Drinking, talking and watching TV. Get into bed naked at 6 am.

I have some performance problems. Can’t keep up. I’m trapped in my own head.  Trying to make sure she’s enjoying the sex. Afraid I’m not living up to it.  I’m sure drinking and staying up all night is not helping my stamina.  After two tries.  We sit back in the bed a few minutes.  I confess my thoughts. She is sympathetic.

“Babe, let it go.  This is your time.  Worry about yourself. Don’t worry about me. I can have a ton of sex and It’s hard for me to come sometimes. Trust me I’m having a great time this weekend.  Relax.”

Laying there together naked in her bed, I get aroused again just looking at her.  This time, I start to masturbate slowly. She grins and does the same.  I notice she is staring at my stiffening cock.  Getting into it.  Fingering herself.  Little moans. Wet. We feed off each other.  We whisper hot things.  After a few minutes I’m hard as a rock. Throbbing. I want her badly. She climbs on top of me.  Lays forward. Full body contact.  We are in rhythm.  Finally liberated, I come hard.  She lays on my chest afterwards. Breathing heavy.  Absorb the moment.

It is 7 am. We pass out and sleep naked until 4 in the afternoon.

Sunday night, she invites some friends over.  We make dinner, hang out, listen to music, and eat pasta… normal double date stuff.  The husband and I talk about cars, business, and scotch. The women are engaged in their girl talk.  They leave around midnight.

We get naked much earlier this time.  Enjoy each other. Fall asleep around 3 am.

Monday, I wake up at 9 am.  It’s raining, but otherwise the place is quiet.  She is sleeping beside me. Somehow this is my moment with her. It happened the first weekend too. I watch her sleep for a few minutes. Feels good. I put my hand on her back. Leave it there. Then I drift off to sleep again.

We get up at 11, sit in her kitchen and eat cheese, fruit, bread and honey for breakfast.  It is time for me to leave. She is ready for me to go also. She has brought me into her world for a glimpse.  Now the time is over. We exchange our goodbyes.  The door closes.  I can almost hear the disconnect. My flight is at 2:30.

We will see each other for another weekend later in the summer..

One Comment Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s