We were perfect.Then came the realities of marriage, the expenses, the working, the not being able to come and go as we pleased together. The ski and ...ummer weekends became financially prohibitive and the necessities of life tore holes in our collective purse, so little was left for “us” fun. 18 months to the day after our wedding I came home to find all of her stuff gone and a note:“I’m going home to live with my parents. I don’t want to be married anymore. Be assured, there is NO ONE ELSE.We. Yes, I will marry you. I love you."We fell asleep in each others arms.From then until 1999, it could be said that our marriage was made in heaven. He would come up behind me, cup my breasts in his hands, kiss me on the neck, as he said, "You know what Mary Jo? I'm the luckiest man alive."I would turn to kiss him as I said, "yes, you are."While having sex, he would tell me, "you love your sex. If my peter ever wears out, I'm in big trouble."Kidding, I would respond. "Yes, I do love it so. Of. “A blow job is one helluva ‘thank you’” I joked. “I love sucking a man’s penis, it makes me feel sexy, and I love the taste. I always blow men as ‘thanks’… delivery men, repair men, sometimes door to door salesmen if I’m really in the mood.” I couldn’t believe that she was this kind of woman! Still blowing guys at her age, and that many of them! “Can I see your tits too?” Man, I really had become more confident. The request seemed to surprise her a little. But without saying anything she looked. He removed them quickly and lay on the bed.Erica stared at what he had revealed. It didn’t look anything like Will’s. Will’s was red, almost purple in some places, and bumpy. This one was bone colored and smooth. She stepped forward, fascinated by the differences. The sack that hung under Will’s was red too. This one was brown, with much darker hairs around it.She reached for the penis and marveled at the satiny feel of it. Will’s was slick and hard similar to but also different than his scars..
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