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My Ex-Wife , I Ch. 2

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How many times have I said to myself in the last year, “If anyone would have told me this a year ago, I would have said that they were crazy.”

I reflected on how it all began … again.

It started with a computer. About a year and a half ago, my ex-wife decided to buy our granddaughter a computer. Our daughter called me and asked if I would be willing to teach them all how to use it. The computer would be at my ex’s house. I told her I wouldn’t mind if my ex-wife felt comfortable with the situation.

You see, my ex-wife and I had been divorced for nine years. To make a long story short, when our youngest, the daughter, left home, our troubles came to the surface. Throughout our marriage, we agreed on little, from raising the children to handling money. We rarely talked, unless it was to express anger about something. Though we had an active sex life, it didn’t have any real passion. We just went through the motions. After a year or so of difficulties, we divorced. It was not a friendly one, and much was said and done that left lasting anger and resentment.

During the nine years of our divorce, we had virtually no contact. However, that all changed with the purchase of the computer. The first evening I went to my ex’s house to set everything up, tension and awkwardness was thick. But we made it through the evening.

I began going up to my ex-wife’s house once a week. Usually my daughter and granddaughter were there. Sometimes they were not. Gradually the tension lessened and my ex and I became comfortable working together on the computer. After awhile, we became more than comfortable.

On the occasions no one else was there, we talked about our past. We both said our “I’m sorry’s” and forgave ourselves the past. We had both changed and grown over the years and found each other to be interesting conversationalists.

Though we didn’t realize it at first, as we became more comfortable, we began calling escort ataşehir each other by affectionate names. We began sitting closer, sometimes touching knees and legs. When I would lean over her to point out something on the screen, my hands might rest on her shoulders. A new tension began between us, but this one was not based on the past.

One evening, as I was leaving through the garage, we brushed against each other. We stopped and looked into each other’s eyes. The next thing either of us knew, she was in my arms, our lips locked in a kiss that carried more passion than we had ever expressed before. We broke off the kiss. We both were flustered and apologized, agreeing not to let that happen again. But of course it did.

My regular visits continued. On the occasions we were alone, we seemed to have a hunger to touch one another. We did our best to keep the expressions of our growing feelings limited to that. As the tension grew, we gave into our feelings, and began kissing passionately when I left.

On one visit, the computer sat idle as we talked about our growing feelings. We discussed the consequences of becoming intimate together. We held each other. We kissed. We caressed necks, shoulders, and backs. But we vowed not to allow ourselves to go any further. Before I left, I set up a free E-mail account for her and showed her how to use a chat program. As we walked through the garage, I reached for my good night kiss. Suddenly, she was pressing her body against mine, grinding her hips against my groin. As her hands went under my shirt, I grabbed her buttocks and pulled her toward me with greater force. I immediately had an erection. Feeling it, she smiled at me and rotated her hips even more. I backed away, took her hand, and put it on my penis. “See what you’ve done to me, I’m all hard.” I laughed. She gave it a squeeze, and I said, “Now you’re making me leak!” We both seemed relieved that the moment kadıköy escort had passed. We again vowed to keep our passions under control. But it was not to be.

Summer came. Activities and vacations interrupted our visits. But, by then, we were writing daily E-mail’s and chatting on weekends. As we saw each other less, our writings became more intimate. We talked on the phone. We were amazed at how we could now talk about things that we never could before. Our feelings continued to grow, as well as our passion. We tried to keep our vow, but it was impossible. We began describing in our emails how we would make love to each other. The sexual tension was unbearable.

The world and our children were unaware of our growing feelings. We decided to keep it that way. As far as anyone else was concerned, we had put the past behind us and could be civil to each other again. Our children were pleased that we were on speaking terms again. If they only knew the whole story!

Our son was to be married in the fall. He asked my ex and I if we would sit together at the wedding. We agreed, happy to have the chance to see each other again. Because of transportation problems with relatives, my ex asked me if I would take her home after the rehearsal. I readily agreed, eager to hold her in my arms again.

After the rehearsal dinner, I drove her to the church. We held hands all the way, talking and laughing, content to be in each other’s presence again. Yet, we both felt the sexual tension between us.

On the way to her house afterward, we did not talk much. We glanced at each other awkwardly. We held hands. Our pent-up passion was growing rapidly. As she stroked the palm of my hand, I felt my penis swelling. She noticed. She placed her hand on my hardening erection and began stroking up and down its length. I began caressing her thigh with my free hand.

A few blocks from her house, I pulled over on a darkened maltepe escort bayan street. Instantly she was in my arms, her tongue darting in and out of my mouth. Her hand had not left my erection. I traced my hand from her thigh to her mound. She moved away, pulled up her dress, and widened her legs. I began to caress her sex as she squeezed my aching penis. I moved my fingers to the top of her underpants and worked them down. As I touched the outer lips of her sex, she moaned and cried, “It’s been so long!!!” I rubbed one finger against her slit. I felt it moisten and swell. I found her clitoris and began stroking it. “Oh, Leto” she cried, “Don’t stop! It feels so good!” She began moving her hips fiercely against my flicking finger. Then she lost control. With a loud scream she arched her back and came. I continued stroking her sex and she came again. She slumped against the door. “You never made me feel like that when we were married,” she smiled. “You never let yourself go like that either,” I accused.

“Now it’s my turn,” she announced as she grabbed my erection again. I feebly protested that she did not have to do me, that she could keep her vow. But she would have none of that. She unzipped my pants and pulled down my underpants, exposing my throbbing penis. She leaned over and kissed me deeply. She pulled my tongue into her mouth as she continued to stroke me more rapidly. When I thought I could take no more, she began rubbing me with both hands, in a circular motion. She remembered that as my favorite way of having my penis stimulated. I couldn’t last long, and I didn’t. I, too, came with a shout feeling sensations I had never experienced before. Semen spurted onto her hands, her arms, several drops reaching her face. She ran a finger in circles around the head of my penis until I began to soften.

She took a tissue from her purse and cleaned us up. “You know we are acting like teenagers,” I said. She laughed, “Not bad for two grandparents!”

I started the car. As we drove the several blocks to her house, we vowed again to keep our feelings under control and not share our passions physically.

Of course, we didn’t keep that vow either. But that is a story for another chapter.

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