Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Another evening with you, my bright jewel-eyed man.  Que bello.  My
wonderful secret.  I feel like an impostor, or an actress playing a part. I
have freedom now after years of marriage that grew into neglect and
indifference.  Freedom to have time on my own and breathe, just be, or to
spend time with you and explore the passion that I publicly scoffed at in
books and on film, the passion I always secretly wanted but suspected was
complete and utter fiction.  I am not used to my new-found freedom.  I get
such a thrill being with you, even more so sitting with you in your car,
heading to a movie.  Am I dreaming, I wonder.  I hum and tingle, determined
to remember the sensations you instill in me.  Hoping they will last.

   There are no sweet nothings yet, but I feel your intent, your intensity.
We talk into the wee hours, sometimes all night, then we sleep with your
strong arm across me making me feel incredibly wanted.  Your heart beat is
a reassuring life-clock.  Our connection gets deeper and deeper without any
words of love.  And you guide me deeper and deeper into the mysteries of
sex.  So many possibilities.

   I lie in bed with anticipation, watching your naked silhouette in the
bathroom across the hall.  So tall you block some of the light.  I still
cannot believe you are here, in my apartment, my first place all to
myself---no roommates, no husband, no children.  No demands on me, plus
privacy to indulge in this amazing pleasure.  I huddle under the covers
waiting for the moment you turn back to me so I can reveal myself to you.
My body that you clearly delight in, that you seem amazed by.  Just as I am
amazed by you and your body.

   You turn to me and I sense rather than see your broad, mischievous
smile. You always smiled when you saw me before we began this secret
affair: I thought that grin a permanent one.  Quickly I wriggle out of the
comforting covers as you stride to the foot of my bed.  I am excited, even
afraid: so much newness, such overwhelming sensations.
You bend forward when you reach the foot of the bed and crawl
exaggeratedly on all fours, then grab me.  I am delighted.  We kiss, and
say hello despite having spent the evening together.  Perhaps the newness
and yet the familiarity makes us do this: we have known one another for a
very long time.  But we have only known one another carnally for a few

months.

   Baby can we try something-

   Sure, I say, braver than I really feel.  And still I feel I would do
whatever you ask.

   I want to try anal sex.  I think you are ready.

   I start to cry.  No-one has ever pushed me like this before.  You are
the first to ignore my tears.  I suppose I was always good at being the
most selfish of lovers, using my sweetness and alarm to get out of things I
did not want to do.  But you, no, you, you will get what you want.  And you
have wanted me for a very, very long time.  So now you will fully reap the
benefit of finally having me after long years of desire, and you will have
me in every way you imagined.  Nothing I can do or say will thwart you. 
How can it be that you wanted me for so long, had such a boyish crush on
me, and now you finally have me and you will not acquiesce to my tears. 
What good are my charms, my perfect body, my eyes.

   You look me deep in the eyes and say We will start slow.  Come here,
baby.  Still sniffling I let you turn me so that my back is against your
chest.  I heave and catch my breath, tears all over my face, my nose
dripping.  You hold me close a few moments, then murmur into my hair above
my ear, I will start slowly.  Where is the lube

   I reach for the lube on the headboard and you grab my breast playfully,
making me gasp with pleasure despite my terror and alarm.

   It will be okay, you reassure me.  I am quite sure it will not be okay,
it will never be okay.  I might even slightly hate you in this moment.  We
both sit up and face one another.  You put your hands out and grab mine,
putting the lube beside me.  Put some on me you ask quietly.  This quiet
assuredness dazes me, I become your automaton.  Usually you are so brash,
larger than life, almost cocky and arrogant.  Sometimes I wish I was so
vibrant and obviously full of life.  I look down and do as you ask, shaking
a little.  I put the viscous substance on my fingers, marvelling at its
slickness.  Time is so slow, these moments unending.  I am hyper aware of
the light from the bridge lampposts nearby blinking and reflecting off my
tears.

   Not yet, you say, you have other work to do.  And I know what you mean.
The other act you introduced me to, also through tears, but not so many
tears.  I bend forward, then lie on my belly and take you in my mouth. 
Time for you to gasp in pleasure.  I love your reaction, I love how happy
and hard my mouth and tongue and teeth on your cock makes you.  I am
learning to play, to alternate slowness and wetness and trying to take all
of you in my mouth and throat, with rapidity and teasing flicks and firm
pulls with my hands.

   I have forgotten where this is leading, this foreplay is everything.  I
am surprised when you raise me up and turn my back to you again.  I had
hoped you had forgotten, that you would not push me after all, not tonight.
And I sob a little, although I try to hide it.

   You put lube on the head of your penis and around my anus.  I tighten,
so scared.  You speak quietly and confidently and soothingly in my ear.  I
am hypnotized and start to relax.  You start to enter me, shallowly, just
the head.  My eyes widen.  What a strange feeling.  A steady rhythm is
started.  You hold me tightly, and I try to feel something besides panic.
All the waking day I crave your arms around me.

   Gradually you go deeper and I grimace, frowning, bearing the pain, then
I cry out.

   Relax, baby, relax for me.  It's me, it will be ok.

   Oh how I want to believe you, I want to please you.  You are "man" for
me, everything.  Then you become one with what you are doing to me and get
into a rhythmic pulsing.  I know you love taking my anal virginity.  You
groan and grab my nipples, making me squirm and join you in your pulsing.
Then you trace your fingers down my belly to my vagina and finger me and I
part my legs a bit.  Now I feel desire.

   You pull out and turn me towards you.  You were great, angel.  Thank
you. We'll stop for now.  I have to go wash.

   And again I watch you, my big man, this time heading back to the
washroom.  I hear the water running, and curl up in a fetal position.  More
tears come.  I feel empty without you.

   You return, and I wipe my tears.  You lie down beside me and hold me,
chest to back, rocking me.  I turn to face you, my eyes so wet.  You look
from one eye to the other and we kiss passionately.  I roll on top of you,
feel your erection and place you inside me.  It is some sort of catharsis,
some sort of validation for me, to take you like this.  Now I get what I
want.  Well you want it too.  You come quickly and I am content to roll off
and beside you, delirious to be in your arms once more.

   I have no idea of the continued plotting and plans in your head, all of
your creative sexual designs, your huge wants and needs.  This is still a
beginning, the setting of your play, still part of the first scene.  And so
I drift to sleep, held by my lover-tormentor, my angel-demon, unaware of
the depth of your desire, the future you see, all the things you want to
experience with me.

   (Happy birthday)