jacqueline

WOMEN 66

I met her online, in the “platonic only” section. She had lived in semi-seclusion for three years, since the accidental subway death of her life partner. She was starting to re-emerge into society, one baby step at a time.  We met after a month of correspondence, walking around Jersey City near her home on a celebration-of-art day, when all the galleries were having open houses. It was nice. The next week, we listened to music, talked, and relaxed at her home. Within a month i laid my hand on hers. I asked whether that was okay, and she replied that she hadn’t moved her hand away. She soon asked whether i wanted to go to her bed. Within a week or two, our cuddling became naked and sexual. I told her that we could go at any pace she wished, and one night she revealed that even before we met, she had looked at my photos and dreamt that i would bring strong, sexual loving into her life. She said she wasn’t ready for a real relationship, and needed to know i was okay with that. She wouldn’t be able to visit my home, as being around people was more than she could handle. Plus, i could never drop in on her unannounced, and no sleepovers. I told her that Vanessa’s shadow still hung over me, and that i would be fine with her conditions. She gave herself over to sexuality with eagerness, yet not quite joy. She was a bit self-conscious about her body, because in her teens she had been committed and given drugs that halted her natural growth for a while. I told her truthfully that she was as womanly as anyone could want. I loved her breasts, they were delicate and beautiful. Our embraces were long and sexual, full of powerful genital contact. It felt strong, healing, and synchronous. She liked lying on her back with me on my side facing her, her legs draped over me (i knew this was going to be one of her favorite penetrative positions). A month later, she revealed that she might be ready for a committed relationship. She lamented that i wasn’t more of an orphan, for she didn’t want to have to deal with my family. It was an interesting perception of my life, as i knew i was much less attached to my family than most. My mind started to spin once she revealed her newfound thoughts. Vanessa’s lingering presence notwithstanding, i knew the kind of woman i could have a true love affair with was one who was ready to run into life's light with joy and abandonment. Jacqueline was years away from such grace, at best. She didn’t think much of my concerns, and after a spout of conversation that resolved nothing, she pulled our naked selves together. After hesitantly relenting for a while, our endorphin-rich bodies entwined, i tried to talk about my misgivings again. She pulled me to her, my penis furrowed between her vaginal lips. I had to use my greater strength to keep her from bringing me inside. I held that moment for an eternity, then pulled gently and forcibly away (as it turned out, for good). I spent the next month writing and calling, trying to make her understand. She casually mentioned that her period was late. She wasn’t concerned, because her periods had always been irregular, and moreso now that she was forty. I asked whether she wanted me to bring a pregnancy test, and she said no. As time passed and no period came, i grew more and more distressed, particularly when she said that if she were pregnant, she wanted to have the child, as it might be her last chance. I told her i didn’t think she was ready for a child, and if she truly wanted one in a few years, there was always adoption. She wouldn’t hear it, and for the better part of two months i lived in a state of semi-misery. Right around the time she finally relented to taking a test, her period came. She'd simply skipped one. All the agony i went through was made more poignant by the fact that we'd never experienced real penetration or ejaculation. I was never angry with her, as others thought i should have been. I made allowances for her deep wounds...but the episode damaged me. I told her i could still be her friend, and even hold her, but she maintained that she couldn’t be physically intimate without romance. Parting seemed the easiest, most gentle path. In the years since, i think of her once in a long while. I always return to our last moment of sexuality. I dream of being there again, and allowing her to pull me inside...a fantasy that's sad on about fifteen different levels.