During the months that we were a couple, Richard (dubbed fly-boy by Anna) and I had been intimate a total of five times. That’s if I don’t include the two blow-jobs, and a rough but not unpleasant finger banging in his car at the car-park of the local swimming baths; and an aborted attempt in the guest room of my parent’s house, the only weekend we went there together.
Mother was delighted with him, mainly because of his excellent table manners, manicured fingernails, lack of tattoos and facial hair, and his silver-spoon accent, denoting a hereditary conservative voter. I could see in their faces that they were hoping he’d eventually become their son-in-law.
Sex was the same every time; starting at missionary, sliding into cow-girl and ending in doggy. He’d invariably cum before me, then make a half-hearted attempt at finishing me off by attacking my clitoris with the rough pad of his index finger. But he’d rub too hard, or miss the sweet spot and I’d finally loose sensation as everything started to numb.
I was never certain whether my ragged breathing and pretended pre-orgasmic squealing fooled him into thinking he’d succeeded in bringing bring on an orgasm. Eventually I’d close my legs and give him the grateful smile of a well sated woman.
Then he’d roll the condom off his pale penis and drop it on the carpet by the bed.
He was a once only man, and never in the morning; loved it when I sucked his cock, but cunnilingus was, as far as he was concerned, a foreign airline. Mary had been right about that.
The letter did begin Dear Richard. It wasn’t a long letter and I didn’t write that I’d found someone else who made me happier. At the end I did write that I was sorry.
What the hell was I sorry about?
I hadn’t betrayed him with another man. There wasn’t another man, well, not in any physical sense. I just said that I needed to concentrate more on my work, that we were in different places in our lives, and that he should look me up if he was ever in the area.
He didn’t reply. So I never found out if he was heart broken, pissed, suicidal or just plain relieved.