These ponderings on the road are not only about work, but they can be personal issues; issues dealing with anything, but most frequently they are about places and people in my life. I relish the time when I am closed in the car on the open road with classical music on disc or public radio. It clears my head and allows me to think. Most of the time spent thinking is sorting out the cultch (old Northern Maine expression for a pile of junk) in my head. I will extract some of the memories and thoughts from the cultch pile and examine them as if it they were rare antiques, savoring their bittersweet or heartwarming detail; others I will remember, smirk and toss into the dust bin of time to forget about. For those that are most special to me I often fret about the loss of them after I am gone. The places that were important to me, the things I have done and the people that impacted my life as well as the people whose life I have impacted.
Memories of people are usually the sweetest memories that I savor. I am a social animal, I love people. I am not a party animal though. I value talking to people, connecting with them, getting to know them and appreciate the humanity in them. As I have said many times in this blog though, women are special to me. Women to me are objects for sexual affection (not sex objects), but beyond the sensual and sexual attraction I feel for them I am in love with the woman-ness of women. I love the way women think, the way they express emotion and the things that are important to them. It is the memories of women that I have known and admired that tend to remain the sweetest and most nostalgic memories for me.
All of these memories are what has motivated me to journal and write my memoirs. I want my kids and grandkids to have access to that which is so profoundly personal to me my experiences and feelings after I am gone. I know that that drive in me is a result of having lost my dad when I was 8 years old …I never knew the man that he was.
So here I sit in a hotel in the mountains up North. It is midnight, and 10 degrees f and windy and cold. I am alone in my room, save my Netbook which has the traffic on SF scrolling like mad on it. It is dark and quiet and cool in here, I have a bulky sweater on, and I am warm. This cool stillness inspires me to write. It helps me get into my own head; as strange as it may sound, this semi romantic environment helps me get in touch with those feelings that are deep inside of me. I sit here grasping for feelings that I as a guy, still hide from.
This trip started in the suburbs of NYC and then proceeded to western Massachusetts, then to Boston and now up North in Maine. The early part of the week was intense …this is being written between Weds night and Thursday. Thursday is open during the day, giving me the time to really remember the detail and relive it so I can do this entry the justice it deserves. I will have work tonight from dinner through Friday into Saturday. Then home on Saturday night for some heavy duty cuddling and hot sex (I hope).
It is hard to work personal things into these road trips because of travel times, weather issues and other people’s schedules. However on this particular trip I scheduled in two personal visits along the way. Tuesday night in Boston with Francine, a former employee and a lunch Weds with an old friend Christakos. I was glad the dinner on Tuesday with Francine was followed by a three hour drive as the drive gave me a chance to mull over the deep and bittersweet feelings that it exposed in my mental cultch pile; the drive allowed me to really savor them and submit to writing them here.
From 1989 to 2000 I was the director of a non profit agency in Maine. We had a staff of 15 professionals, engineers, architects and economists. I had saved the organization from bankruptcy and rebuilt it into a financially sound, hip, good place to work; full of young people and young thinking people. It was and still is in an idyllic setting.
It was a great place to work. Getting good employees was not hard. Being the people person that I am I almost adopted all of my staff as family, especially the younger ones whose families were far from where we were. The senior positions didn’t turn over that frequently, as these were high paying jobs in a great location where a lot of other opportunities didn’t exist; senior positions only opened maybe every 5 years or so. Junior positions tended to turn over much quicker, there was usually one per year sometimes two if a new project came along that required expanding the staff.
I liked to fill the junior positions with recent college graduates who were enthusiastic about the opportunity and the location; more importantly hiring young people allowed me to mentor them and integrate them into the mission of the office, which was a reflection of my own philosophy . I am a teacher and mentor at heart and always have been. Also my size tends to make people trust me, confide in me and feel close to me. I think I seem like a tree or an object of stability. I have always formed strong attachments to people, especially employees. The entry level people typically would stay for two years before a more advanced position would open someplace else and then they were gone to be replaced by a new recruit. It was hard for them to wait for internal advancement opportunities in the organization because as I said they didn’t open up that frequently.
In 1991, I was able to get us very competitive federal funding to do a national demonstration project. The new funding allowed a position to open up in February, not a great time to hire recent graduates. None the less I posted the job in the normal channels and waited for applications. After 3 weeks we got a dozen resumes; within that pool there was only one qualified applicant, a young woman from Boston. I later found out that she had failed to get a job in Boston post graduation and filed for my position only out of desperation. I sent her a letter asking for an interview and made a followup phone call (this was before email); following that interchange we set up the interview. A week later she came to office to talk to me about the position.
Francine (not her real name) showed up in the office promptly at the time established, that impressed me. It was a busy morning but I squeezed in the appointment with her because I wanted to get the position filled and behind me. When she walked in the door I rose to meet her; as I looked at her my breath caught in my chest, she was gorgeous. She was a tall girl, about 5’ 10”, with peaches and cream complexion and red blond hair with green eyes. She was an absolutely beautiful Irish - Catholic lass from Boston. It was not only her face that riveted me to her but her body as well. She was not outrageously curvy but her proportions let me know that there was a very feminine woman under her conservative suit. Her hips and breasts could not be concealed by the business formal outfit that she thoughtfully assembled. In these situations it is critical that I maintain professional demeanor regardless of what my penis is telling my brain. At that moment my penis was screaming at my brain.
I resumed breathing and ushered her into my office. Remember that this was 1991 and skirts were noticeably shorter then. As we sat down in the two easy chairs in my office I couldn’t help but notice her very long shapely legs. Thinking back on the day now, I can remember being seated across from her drowning in her innocent sensuality. I can distinctly recall seeing a lot of leg and more thigh than I wanted to if I had any hope of maintaining a coherent interview. I took repeated deep breaths, struggling to keep my head above the surface of the ocean of feminine charm that filled the room as she came in. I made it through the interview and managed to maintain my focus, but just barely.
I began to get to know her during the interview; she was a very vivacious, outgoing and adventurous young woman, and obviously very sexy. But she managed to pull it off in a very subtle way. Her resume detailed her experiences in college and summers between semesters in great detail; she had traveled, climbed mountains, worked in the 3rd world and skied competitively among other things. Her easy going conversation with me revealed the dynamic person that she was. Her adventurous spirit was summarized and underscored in her resume; it told of amazing places she had been and exotic things she had done. She clearly was an independent and outgoing young woman. At 23 she had booked a lifetime of awe inspiring experiences, far more exciting and interesting than anything I had ever done in my 40 years.
Needless to say I hired her. Also needless to say that having her around the office was a joy. She was smart, efficient and very capable. Beyond her work ethic, her easy going light- informal feminine approach to life with a tinge of tomboy made her even more fun as a person. She had this air about her that just relaxed you when she was in the room. She was truly a gift to office. She was so at ease with her life and her body that it reflected in what she wore. She didn’t dress provocatively but rather informally in an elegant way. The most incredible time was the summer time when she would come to work in shorts and loose flowing silky tops. I don’t know whether it was her perfume or shampoo or soap but when I stood next to her I would swoon, her scent would creep into my nostrils and numb my brain in a sweet and sensual haze; my god she was so feminine and alluring.
Despite all her unintended temptations I was very good at maintaining an appropriate relationship . . . after all she was an employee. It was hard though. My family was young and schedules were crazy, my wife and I didn’t have the passionate sex life that we once had. There was hardly ever time for the sensual lovemaking that we cherished, we were lucky to get a quick fuck every once in a while. Yet every day when I went in the office here was this sensual creature that stirred my soul and stiffened my cock. I really had to maintain an ethical relationship so monkey business was absolutely out of the question, but there was room for fantasy. Looking back on that time though, every day in the office wound up creating another fantasy; after a week or two the fantasies were piling up in my head. I was (and still am) a sensual man and it is really hard to ignore the sensual aura that she cast. Despite many temptations, thankfully I was able kept my fantasies as just that . . . fantasies.
I can remember one hot July afternoon in our unairconditioned office when she came into work with a tank top with a light flimsy bra underneath it. Her breasts were so naturally and gracefully outlined by the thin fabric that little was left to my imagination. She wore Bermuda shorts that were skin tight, almost as if they were painted on. Her rear was so sculpturally beautiful that I couldn’t help but stare at it; I longed to hug her and hold those beautiful firm and rounded cheeks in my hands. I must have undressed her 6 times in my mind that day; my imagination ran wild with the sensuality that she exuded in such a carefree way. That was a tough day but I made it through it. But underneath the sexual electricity that crackled around her she was this very likeable, fun loving, intelligent, and unaffected girl who seemed to be oblivious to the effect that she had on me ….. or maybe not.
Later in mid November, we both had to be in a meeting in Washington to present intermediate findings of the project she was working on to our funding agency. The presentation was early in the morning so we went down to DC the afternoon before. We checked into the hotel at 3 pm. I always like to treat my employees (men and women) well when I traveled with them …it was my way of saying thank you for the difficult schedules I asked them to maintain for work. Oftentimes when we would travel I would allow time to do something fun followed by a nice dinner. Depending on their interests I would try to find something that was meaningful to them. Sometimes it was an athletic event or a national geographic society presentation; there is always something going on in DC. Francine was an art lover, so we scanned the schedules on checking into the hotel and decided on the West Wing of the NGA. I was thrilled because I love art and I am always grateful to have someone with me to see it. I hate going thru art museums alone.
We had a wonderful time in the museum. She was smart as hell and very knowledgeable beyond her years, I loved listening to her thoughts on what we were seeing. She seemed to be a veritable fountain of information about art history. I was very impressed. She bantered all kinds of wonderful insights as we walked thought the galleries. I had to admit that beyond the intellectual stimulation I was getting, there was an erotic stimulation as well. I felt really proud being seen with this lithe mature acting young woman, it didn’t hurt my male ego at all. Moreover, I began to feel very strongly for her . . . it was the first time I can remember wanting to cherish a woman that wasn’t related to me. That afternoon I established a quiet unspoken bond with her. I felt it and I am sure that she did too. As we walked through the museum I had an overwhelming desire to embrace her, but I didn’t.
On our way out of the museum we left the upper floor to go down to the exit; as we approached the top stair she slid her arm into mine as we went down the stairs. My heart raced and pounded in my chest as I felt her arm entwined with mine, I thought it would burst out of me. I controlled my breathing and we got outside.
I knew of a nice restaurant not too far from the museum. Mid to late November is one of my favorite times in Washington. The weather is cool, there are no tourists, congress is usually slow, and there are no major hearings. It is a delightful time of the year. The walk to the restaurant was very pleasant and she was wonderful company. I hadn’t had the chance to do anything like this with my wife in years. I felt 25 years old again.
We got to the restaurant in perfect time for the reservations I made. The dinner was very enjoyable as was her company. She was such a sweet person it was a joy to spend time with her. But beyond her playful girlish air, she had a light and easy sensuality that was captivating. We polished off a bottle of wine and finished with some cognac. It had been a long day. As we got up to leave the table it became very apparent to me that the fatigue, the wine and the cognac were really affecting her. She was very unsteady on her feet. Again I held her under her arm as we left the restaurant. I hailed a cab, knowing that there was no way she could walk to the hotel even though it was only 6 or 8 blocks.
When we got outside to the sidewalk she was tottering significantly, so I held her around her waist to steady her. As I held her around her trim waist I felt her warm supple skin under the silky dress; it set my brain on fire. A cab stopped and I gingerly got her into the cab. As the cab accelerated into the early evening traffic on the darkened street, she slid her arm under mine and leaned her head onto my shoulder and sighed as she closed her eyes. I felt her body relax against me. My imagination was running wild and my penis was so hard it ached.
But as my cock got hard as a rock my heart sank. More than ever I wanted to wrap my arms around this lithe and voluptuous young thing and usher her to my bed where I would part her legs and kiss her wet lips and sink my tongue into the rich thick wetness of her vagina. I would suckle her clit with my tongue leaving her on the brink of orgasm. I would then punctuate her lust by sinking my aching penis deep inside her sweet pink vagina causing her to fall over the edge into a pussy quivering orgasm. I knew the exquisite relief that her young warm wet vagina would extract from me. The heat of her love hole would suck the cum from me forcing me to ejaculate hot ropes of my lust into her. But this was Francine, my employee, someone who trusted me and despite her obvious inebriated flirtations needed to be able to count on me as a mentor and a leader. The mental turmoil in me at that moment was staggering. I struggled to think clearly but my raging erection wasn’t making it easy.
We got up the elevator inside the hotel. We fumbled in her purse to get her room key.
I opened her door brought her to the bed, and removed her coat.
The minute her coat was off just as I was about to set her on the bed she stood on her tip toes and wrapped her arms around my middle and aggressively pressed her lips to mine in a passionate kiss. It was a kiss that I remember to this day. In the cultch pile of my memories in the car leaving Boston on Weds that kiss shines likes a precious jewel. It was warm and long and my god her lips were soft and inviting. I tried to resist but her passion overpowered me. I returned her erotic kiss with unbridled passion. I embraced her tightly holding her sweet lips to mine, as I tried to inhale the hot sweetness of her breath.
I felt her warm skin under the smooth fabric of her dress; that sensation inflamed me and encouraged me to kiss her more passionately. I was beginning to lose control as my penis was throbbing in my pants. I ran my hands up her back, feeling the tense muscles under her smooth warm skin. Our lips remained locked for what seemed like an eternity and a millisecond at the same time. I tried to drink in her cognac laced warm breath and relish the supple sweetness of her tongue. We kissed for several minutes twisting our lips together as my sexual heat boiled in my balls begging to be released in her.
When we parted her face was flushed and her eyes looked woozy. She looked so vulnerable and so sweet. That is when it hit me . . . as much as I wanted to sink my penis into her and feel her embracing my throbbing penis in the hot sensual interior of her vagina, I couldn’t do it. It was as if I was trampling on a trust. Trust that as her employer, I would do the right thing. It was a trust that I had in myself. She was so vulnerable in the condition she was in; doing something under these circumstances was just wrong. I was tormented, but I was rational.
So I took a deep breath and I turned her around. I then unzipped the dress which I knew she needed for the presentation tomorrow, and lifted it over her head. She stood before me absolutely beautiful and absolutely vulnerable in her bra and panties. I drank in the sight of her feminine beauty. I then sat her down on the bed, admiring the sight of this curvaceously feminine young woman, I felt very intimate with her even though I did not touch her. Her full breasts swelled inside a bra that contained their sensual shape but displayed them erotically; her nipples betrayed her arousal as they hardened straining against the thin fabric. Her panties mimicked the bra, they were lacey and clingy revealing a large wet spot that clung to the cleft in her vulva. Her vagina was oozing the honey of passion. The pungent aroma of her arousal drifted into my brain and caused every male part of me to go into overdrive. I was witnessing her body's betrayal of her passion. It told me of her lust for me; her body was revealing her deepest secrets, things she could not or would not say.
As I drank in the sight of her, the sense of how wrong this would be to go any farther cemented in my head. I laid her down in her bed, as I did she looked up at me and smiled her innocent Francine smile; she then closed her eyes and rolled over on her side in an inebriated haze. For all gods green earth I had never seen anything as beautiful as her body spread out on that bed with her hair fanning out around her on her pillow. I sighed, smiled back at her, and took her shoes off.
I pulled the covers over her, turned out the lights and closed the door. As I closed the door I thought that the chance to make a fantasy come true was just on the other side of the door, but I again thought of who I was and who she was. The door clicked shut. I then went to my room, took a deep breath and looked at my hard on apologetically and got into bed and went to sleep.
The next morning nothing was said, she was her normal self, but there was a sparkle in her eye that was unmistakable. I took that to be an acknowledgment of respect and appreciation although in my erotic male mind I hoped that it might be a little lust. But the day was about the presentation which went very well.
We flew home that afternoon and parted ways at the airport. Nothing was ever said about the night before or the fact that she woke up this morning half undressed with her dress on a hangar in the closet.
Thanksgiving came and went and then came Christmas. The second week of December we had the office party at my house. I loved doing it at my house . . . we would watch a corny Christmas movie, laugh and giggle and enjoy each others company. It was wonderful time as I had assembled a team of people who genuinely liked each other. At the end of the party she and her roommate (who also worked for me) put on their coats to leave. Francine came up to me wrapped her arms around me and gave me a kiss just in front of my ear, my mind shot back to the last passionate kiss she gave me. This one was sexy but it was different. As she hugged me she kept her mouth right near my ear. I then felt her hot breath whisper in my ear: “I have been meaning to tell you, thanks for being a gentleman”. I knew in an instant what she was referring to.
Over that winter she frequently went back to Boston on weekends. She still had friends there. So it didn’t surprise me that April that she told me of this guy, Kim that she had met that she was getting very serious about. Within a few weeks he came up to see her for a week end and she brought him over to the house to introduce him. We had a wonderful visit, he was a great guy. As a couple they were a little unusual as he was a 6’2” Korean who looked almost Polynesian, while she was this ginger colored Irish lass. He was as striking looking in his exotic way as she was in her innocent sensual way. As vivacious and outgoing as she was that was how quiet and thoughtful he was, but they adored each other and it was obvious. I was very happy. But as they left that afternoon, deep down inside there was a tinge of jealousy. I remembered that innocent moment of intimacy I had with her as I undressed her and put her in bed that night in the hotel and the warm affection I felt as we left the museum. I laughed to myself and thought isn’t life complicated.
She continued to work on the project through that year. Ultimately she knew as did I that when her project was done her work in the organization was done. That was ok with her as she wanted to be back in Boston anyway. She moved in with him in Boston and began to plan their wedding. I was invited to the wedding but unfortunately, we had a conflict and sadly I could not go.
Soon after the wedding she landed a job with a big real estate firm in Boston and quickly climbed the ladder. After 5 years she had this hugely responsible job and was making a ton of money.
I saw her only once during the next ten years at a federal agency meeting when I was in Boston. When we saw each other we gave each other a big hug, no kiss as this was an official meeting. We did share a wonderful conversation at lunch that day and a heartfelt hug goodbye. The years did not detract from her beauty though. Her girlish feminine charm was replaced by an elegant sensuality. She still took my breath away when I saw her.
In 1999, I left that position at the organization and we moved out of state for me to take my current position. Francine and Kim stayed in touch through Christmas cards over the last ten years. Their life sounded wonderful and the cards were a joy to read. It was in the card of two Christmases ago that she mentioned that Kim had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, she didn’t say anything else in the letter, but I knew that pancreatic cancer seldom turns out good.
I emailed her regularly over the last year trying to keep track of things. Sometimes she would respond, sometimes she wouldn’t. Then in October through December there were no emails at all. Then three weeks after Christmas I received a note from her with no card. She said that he had died a few days after Christmas. She was devastated. I emailed her and sent flowers. I said that as soon as I was in the vicinity of Boston I would contact her.
So two weeks ago when I knew this trip to Boston was firm, I emailed her. She was thrilled to hear from me. I arranged to meet her at her house, so I could take her out to dinner. As I drove to her house that night I did the mental arithmetic. She was now the same age as I was when we were in Washington together that night, she was now 41.
My new GPS unit steered me right to her door. It was a beautiful grand house; a fitting testimony to their success as a couple …that made it even more poignant.
I nervously rang the bell and waited. After what seemed to be a lifetime I heard the knob rattle and click. The door swung open and there she was. She was even more beautiful than she was before, but she looked tired and drawn. Without so much as a second she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a heartfelt and warm kiss on the lips, she lingered just enough to show it wasn’t a peck but short enough to be appropriate. It was very nice. It was not a kiss of lust but rather it was much deeper. It was a kiss of love, admiration and shared joy. I was lost in the warm sensual heat of her mouth again.
However, just as we parted lips and I caught my breath, the gates of her emotions just opened up. She did not let go of me. Instead she leaned into me and embraced me and burst into body racking sobs. She was returning home to a respected and loved mentor of years past and felt a need to share with me the absolute pain that she was feeling. I cradled the back of her head in my large hands, holding her to my chest, as my own eyes welled up. I am awful when women cry. I held her for several minutes and whispered to her that it was ok, as she shook with emotion. It was tearing me apart though because even though a fantasy was coming true and it felt wonderful to embrace her, I was torn apart by her pain.
I am at the time of my life when loosing people is becoming more and more frequent. I have been to a lot of funerals and have been expressing a lot of condolences lately. My own health issues in the past underscore the fragility of life that these events mark. These situations often wind up in hugs. I know the feel of those hugs. This one was different however, there was sadness and affection in this hug that expressed time lost, opportunities never realized, a love lost and a heart broken. But more than anything this was a hug of trust, and the sharing of her pain was breaking my heart.
After several minutes she composed herself and apologized and excused herself to go wash up and do her make up. She emerged as the composed adventurous person that I respected and appreciated years ago. We drove to a bright little place that I knew of and that she also liked. The evening was wonderful. We laughed and got caught up in what had happened in both of our lives and those of people we knew from 20 years earlier. She never had kids as she was on a power and money track and there just wasn’t time. That was playing heavy on her now. It was a delightful evening that passed way too quickly. I was getting tired and it was getting late.
I drove her home and she asked me to come in. I came in the door and she closed it behind me. In the quiet of her front hallway I held her to my chest and I told her how profoundly sorry I was and what a wonderful person she was and that time would heal this hurt. Again just as it was that night in the hotel in Washington, the opportunity fulfill a fantasy was there before me.
The fantasy replaying in my mind as I stood there holding her tenderly was lurid but sweet at the same time. We could have easily made our way to her bed where I could finish what I started so long ago by peeling off her bra and panties. She would have willingly revealed her exquisitely feminine body to me. I knew that she would have wantonly laid on her back for me, parting her legs to show me her dripping peach, urging me to sink into it. She would have relished the feeling of my searing hot cock probing her sensitive feminine recesses. She would have shuddered with the deeply satisfying feeling my aching penis being swallowed by her sex after all these years; gripping it in her wet pink folds. I knew she would relish the opportunity to coax my lust from me, forcing me to release my hot liquid passion into her in gasps of ecstasy. That was my fantasy but there in my arms was my Francine, the innocent girl that caused me to swoon in my office years ago.
I slid my hands up her sides relishing the sensation of her hot silk shrouded skin on my palms; I reached around her and kneaded her back as I continued my journey to her silky hair. When I reached the nape of her neck I ran my fingers under her hair and into her scalp. I wrapped my long strong fingers around her head and massaged her scalp with my finger tips. I then held her head in my hands and gave her a warm long kiss on the forehead. As I did I felt her lean her body against me and relax as she relinquished all the pain and grief that she held inside her. She held onto me tightly and just stood there as if she would drift away if she let go.
I bent over and gave her a warm hug. As I held her I felt the warmth radiating from her sensual body. It was intoxicating. If I held her for too long I knew would have laid her down on the floor and ravished her there on the spot. My heart was racing. Instead I kissed her warmly on the lips and almost swooned again; my cock was aching with need. I stroked her cheek and turned and left
That night I feel asleep immediately when I got into bed. I didn’t have time or energy to think about anything. But the next day during my 3 hour drive north, I thought about my passionate feelings and my interactions with her over the years. I thought about the kisses we shared and different meanings and feelings behind them. I thought about how good it felt to hold Francine, and how different it felt embracing my wonderful wife.
The warmth of human affection is a mystical thing. It is fragile, yet enduring. It is passionate yet tender and sensitive. It is raw sexuality but it is elegantly sensual. It can be expressed in a penis pounding an inflamed vagina in lusty sex or it can be expressed as an embrace and the cradling of a head filled with pain and grief.
Human affection reveals itself in many different ways. What I feel for Francine will remain a sweet memory of innocence,trust, and unrealized passion and tenderness. That is a revelation that I will hold onto for the rest of my life.
These emotions that I experience in my life are bittersweet and resonant. Life itself is a miraculous journey; I continue to be amazed what a complex and wonderful journey it is.
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