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As much as I want to remember every second that I have shared with Sean, there seem to be moments, even minutes that are completely blanked out of my mind. I don’t remember having the glass of wine taken away from me. I don’t recall his fingers, or maybe my own unbuttoning my shirt, but I do remember him slowly pulling it off my shoulders and cupping my breasts through the bra, gently squeezing them. I wished for something softer than the otherwise comfortable couch we were sitting on and as if reading my mind, he got up, took my hand and led me through the house, up the stairs and into his bedroom, which I later on realized was another victorious triumph of architecture. At the moment of my entrance, though, all I could think about was Sean, blind to the beauty around me. He sat on the bed and pulled me to him, nestling me between his legs. My bra, jeans, panties and running shoes were off in no time, I can’t remember the sequence of it exactly. Sean’s hands were running up and. Several months passed and we became friends. What should have been completely a professional relationship seemed a lot more personal and warm to me. He asked how my husband and I met, what my job used to be before I became an at home mom. The last thing I ever felt was sexy, since I was round as a watermelon and chasing a toddler. Why would this beautiful man talk to me for hours? When my baby was born, I felt even more invisible. My husband worked longer hours, I rarely got to shower before late afternoon, dinner was never on time and I reeked of spitup and milk soaked bras. My husband would come home to a mess and be very irritated that I got nothing done over the course of the day. Life was pure chaos and yet, we still needed to pack our home and move into the new one. One day, the doorbell rang. I answered the door and there was Robert! The house was a disaster, I was particularly messy from my child filled day, and of course I hadn’t showered. ‘Oh my, I wasn’t expecting.
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