Chapter 43, Itís Over Again
Milking 2 men again, I was in love,
with myself. I liked Darryl but it was not love which drove my car to his
studio. It was addiction, my addiction, not to love, not to sex but escape. I
risked the love of those loved for my selfish addiction. Vixen took control. While
careful I couldnít stop. Instead I went into super stealth mode to protect my
family, well to protect me within my family.
I met Thumper twice a week. I left home at 10 AM, a half hour later pulled into his driveway, we screwed, showered together, he went to his studio, I made lunch, we ate at the dining table where my dishes were once displayed, I cleaned up, left no later than 2, meet the kids at the school bus stop, and walked them home, my great mom role intact.
The driveway to driveway time lapse was
under 4 hours, a time easily explained as shopping. Thumper accepted our
relationship based on our limited interaction. . He didnít have a strong sex
drive and never went for seconds even if I tried. Art siphoned off his sexual energy.
I loved his angular firm fingers and
taught him to stimulate my labia and clitoris with them. He didnít drink alcohol
but attempted to get me to try marijuana. I refused and did not permit his
smoking it with me but knew he lit up as soon as I left and probably stubbed
out just before I arrived.
He socialized with his artistic
friends, pot smokers. I met a few when they stopped by but never socialized
with them and was uneasy when they were around. I never put down his friends
but didnít like them. We had different tastes in music and art, him being too
When he found out about my trophy rings he had one made. It was an orange/yellow Tiger Eye for my June birthstone in a gold setting one of his artistic jeweler friends made for him.
Hubby was suspicious. When I talked about art he thought I might be seeing an artist and questioned me about the paining I bought, tracked down the woman who painted it and was relieved it was a married woman.
I worried he would have someone
follow me. At the edge of town I zig zag a few residential streets to ensure
none did. Out in the country on the way to the kiln I would pull over just past
an intersection, wait a minute to let any car following pass and then U-turn
and take another direction.
My husband actually met Darryl who
had an exhibit booth at the State Fair which we visited. Darryl knew who hubby
was and treated us as customers. I told my husband he had made our dishes but
he never connected him to me.
While Thumper in his way loved me we
both knew our relationship couldnít last. He would meet another and have sex
with them. This I wouldnít accept. I expected my husband and lovers to be
faithful. There was another issue. His marijuana smoking divided us and would
eventually end the relationship. Until the end, however, we loved as free
spirits with no recriminations. Once the course changed to a path I didnít want
it was adieu without tears.
It lasted until the next Art Fair. I
saw her at his booth. She made beaded jewelry and had a booth herself. The next
Monday I could tell another woman had been at his house and asked if it was
her. Being always open, never feeling guilty he didnít refute my allegation and
was surprised I cared, considering I was married. His rational was since I
didn't like marijuana I should be pleased there was someone to fill the void. I
didnít accuse him, yell or cry, just said it was my last visit. We put our best
efforts into it and parted without recriminations.
Skipping lunch afterwards while
driving home I realized my 33rd birthday was soon.
The next year at the Art Fair she
had combined her booth with his and the year after they were together with a
baby. I donít know if they officially married but over time there were two
children with them at the booth. I always visited, admired the children and
brought a few dishes. He was always friendly and I donít know if she knew about
our prior relationship but he always cashed my check. I wished him the best,
kept the bowl we made in a special place and reserved it for my use.
Unfortunately a neighbor kid munching
cookies I made dropped it making shards out of it. I attempted to glue them
back together but realized it was as hopeless as the affair, on with a free
spirit to accept as temporary without judgement or remorse.
The shards said it all. He was history, neither good nor bad, just what happened, another life experience gone into a memory bank.