Being in bed that morning with Kallie was magical for so many reasons. The first, and most immediate, was the two-hour time limit. I knew I had a limited time to do, and get done to me, whatever extreme surprises and adventures Kallie had in store for me.
The second arousing contributor to the morning was that Kallie was a doctor. I always had this erotic fantasy of my mind of doctors being possessors of a secret reposotory of sexual knowledge. During my athletic career, my mom had always scheduled my rehab appointments and routine physicals with female pediatricans. I had always looked for ways to turn the appointment small talk to sexual innuendo--never successfully, but that never stopped me from trying again the next time. I had this vision of being naked with a doctor and her knowing exactly where and how to touch me. Now it was actually happening. (Except she wasn't touching me--she was hitting me. Who knew?)
Finally, I knew my roundez-vous's with Dr Kallie would be few and far between. She was married, AND busy with a job in Milwaukee. She required a fight against Angie to be admitted to her bed chamber. And I had a burgeoning career as a pharmaceutical drug rep. How many days would the stars possibly align to allow Kallie and I to fuck? (Spoiler alert: between 2018 and the March 2020 pandemic lockdowns, the number was 4. Four times in 1-and-a-half years Kallie and I fucked. Each one was wonderful.)
I loved the sensation of being pinned down, almost helpless, by a strong woman. I loved the feel of her hands wrapped around my wrists. I'll never be into handcuffs, but women who are: I think it's the wrist enclosure sensation they actually are into. Just a tip, fellas.
I loved Kallie over me, looking down at me. The more contemptuously, the better.
I loved her dark nipples on her shiny breasts. They would get sssoooo erect when we would kiss, when she would be hitting me.
Kallie would ask how my career was going when hitting me in bed. I found it offputting and weird at first; but then I was flattered she was remembering who she was in bed with.
Sometimes in bed, I asked her if she felt lonely on her business trips to Milwaukee, especially when she got back to hotel at night. Milwaukee, pre-pandemic, was a city that emptied out at rush hour, and was abandoned by 8pm .... hell, by 6:30pm. She said, yes, she wished she could have someond to talk to.
Talk about what?
About medicine. About parenthood. About office politics. About marriage.
She asked me if I was going to marry Kristen someday.
I told her I knew gay marriage was "a thing" now .... but it wasn't for for me.
Why not?
Well, what do I call Kristen to acquaintances? My wife? My spouse? I know other people do that. But it still sounded "off" to me.
But do you lover her?
I don't. I don't love Kristen. Why? Do you think she loves me?
I don't.
How can you tell?
Just a vibe. By the way, I'm not trying to get a dig in on her. She just .... gives of this 'friends with benefits' vibe with you.
Funny you say that. We're the only girl .... woman ... esch other have ever dated.
What about me? I'm not your date??
No. First, you're married. Second, we don't 'go out'. Even Angie .... even THAT bitch you take to the South Barrington mall.
Does that bother you?
I don't know. Does Angie want it to bother me? Do you?
Angie has an inferiority complex thing with you. You know that, right? Shd feels horribly insecure relative to you.
I don't give a fuck .... and yet .... I like it. No, I love it. I want her to HATE me.
You're intriguing, Jenny.
I'm getting horny again.
Then stop talking and hit me.
[Kallie and I resume striking each other in the face on the bed. We glare at each other with hate .... and wonder.]
[I'm cumming in under 5 minutes.]
To be continued......
