You brought to my life the most raw sexual energy and experience I’ve ever had.
You found me while I was in hiding. A white woman living on the reservation. I had not entertained the idea of a much younger man. It did begin with lust.
The first time I let you in the house it was a frenzy. We never made it to the bed. But we were all over the rest of the furniture. You told me recently that you came to me when you were stressed – when you needed to get away from the rest of it.
You have allowed me to explore my sexuality and feel comfortable with my body suggesting new ways to find pleasure and bringing in toys. It took me over four decades to allow myself to have the experience without guilt or shame.
Despite the fact that I suspected it was based on lust, I was still with you alone for the period that I have known you.
I know it’s over now because you’ve moved on to someone more appropriate for you. I do grieve the loss. The main solace I have is that we were never in one another’s real day-to-day lives so never actually knew one another.
It began in the realm of lust and and it never really left that place. Yet I grieve that too. In some ways I feel as if I let society dictate how involved I could be in your life both because of our ages and whether we would really fit into one another’s cultures.
You admitted that you never told your family about me and the only person in my family that you ever met was my adult son because he was the one person who would not judge. But we feared being judged didn’t we – so we kept it in the realm of lust. That was an active decision we both made. It has made it easier to part.
Yet why do I feel as if I’ve lost out on something? I fantasize that I have a lot of money and I can hide you away somewhere so I don’t have to worry about what society thinks. Would you then be my secret – my dirty little secret – Forever?