Chapter 10
Post carried June into the bedroom and set her down on his bed. This was going to be more than right, he thought, this was going to set a prscedent.
He sat next to her, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her full on the lips. It felt good seeing how she responded to him. Her hands played over his chest and shoulders, working at the buttons on his shirt.
He couldn't believe his luck. She was actually responding to him, she was actually encouraging him, and he was not going to disappoint her.
Lying next to her he explored her body slowly, caressing the warmth of her hips until he knew her response was complete.
Post was so shot through with expectation that when he undressed, he didn't care where his clothes went. This was something he'd been waiting for a long time, too long. But it had been worth waiting for.
June's skin was pliant and smooth under his touch and when she began to sigh in rhythmic cadence, Post experienced a glow of happiness he hadn't known for a long time.
This wasn't a stop gap affair, something he did to relieve the damned up pressure so that he could think and function again. This was June. This was the woman responsible for the pressure. He looked at her and sighed with satisfaction.
June's face resolved into a vision of haunting loveliness. Her lips were slightly parted, her nostrils beginning to flare, her eyes somewhat narrowed to the point where Post was excited, just by looking at her.
It was no longer the face of a career woman, who could be quite clinical and objective. Her lips began quivering, her breath was warm against his face and she sighed with pleasure, there was no mistaking that.
Post couldn't resist the impulse to put both arms about her and feel the naked length of her body, pressing warm and lovingly against his. It was like being delicately tickled with a piece of fine satin.
"You do love me, don't you, Stu?" she said. "That's all that matters."
"You know I do," he said, with such conviction in his voice that her response was an even deeper sigh.
She began a friction of her hips against him, mounting in intensity. When Post moved his hand over her hips, it was as though he'd caressed every last bit of resistance away. She began moving with great animation, thrashing about, thrusting her body against him.
Post realized with great joy that his hunch about June had been right. She was a very sensual woman. Loving her was going to be fun, all of it, every bit of it, every time.
She wrapped her legs about him, squeezing tightly. Post was amazed by her strength. Her intensity spurred him on. Only with the greatest control could he continue this foreplay, keeping it tender and gradual out of consideration for her. He discovered, though, that as her excitement progressed, he was experiencing a build-up and glow he'd never known with a woman before.
June was not shy. She did not have to be coaxed now that she had finally let down the barriers between herself and love. As her fingertips lingered momentarily about his ear lobes, the undersides of his arms and the insides of his thighs, Post knew that June was well aware of her business. This only made it better for him, thinking how he would have a life of this.
He caused their bodies to merge and June let out a gasp of pleasure. Her movements became more intense and in a quick moment, Post lost all control of reality. He was aware only of the ache and longing he'd carried for her. Now he was united with her and it overcame her.
He quickly reached the pinnacle of release and, as he did, he noticed an abrupt change in June. She became suddenly limp, unexcited, as though that switch, that god-awful switch had been thrown in her mind. He sought, by his own movements to carry her along with him, but he knew after a second that it was futile.
"I'm sorry, Stu," she said, when it was over. "I guess it was a mistake to think it would be so easy."
"But why not?" he said, holding her tightly, desperately. It had taken so long, they'd been so close. He couldn't let it slip through his fingers now. "Why?" he said. "What's wrong?"
She touched him fondly on the cheek. "It wasn't your fault, really," she said.
"Yes, it was, if this is the result," he told her.
June shook her head. He noticed tears in the corners of her hazel eyes. "It just isn't any good for me, that's all."
"Whatever there was in me that was a potential, it was spoiled by my marriage. That's all there is to it. I know how much this meant to you. I tried, Stu, really I did."
She paused to mop up the wet streaks on her face. "You can see how it is with me. I almost think I really love you, and that's why we've got to stop and chalk this up as an experiment that failed. It would always be like this, and you'd know it. With another man, an older man, it wouldn't be so often. Perhaps I could even convince him it was all right, not being able to have physical pleasure with another man easier than I could with you."
He tightened his grip on her arm. "You were just nervous, June. We can do it, June, we really can, if you'll just try."
She shook her head. "You don't understand. It would only be worse. I know how much it means to you. Do you think I haven't seen how you've suffered? We've got to stop now before anything else happens."
There was nothing more to be said. June took her usual shower, and he could barely bring himself to pull the covers over his body and pretend to be asleep when she returned.
If it was any consolation, he heard June trying to snuffle the sound of her own crying during the night. But Post didn't know. He didn't know anything but the feeling of a big dull ache.
The memory of her was all pervasive. A whispy odor of her accented his unhappiness. The recall of their bodies, enveloped in each other was strong.
How much longer could a guy go on this way, work or no work? He had eleven more months of being with June like this. Eleven long, miserable months.