Potographic illustration of Sappho by Jane de la Vaudère, 1908

by Sue DeGregorio-Rosen, RN, CLNC,   Contributing Editor

whatever he told me I took seriously.  He told me he loved me, like no one he had ever loved before. 

And I, in return, gave him my all. I loved him, madly, passionately and with all my heart.  He was the one.

I loved how he laughed with me at my silly jokes.  I loved how he always opened the door for me, how he would message me to let me know he was on his way.  I loved the golden flecks in his auburn eyes, the way he looked at me, and looked after me.  And then one day, he said it was over.

My heart was shattered and I cried until I had no more tears to shed.  I learned to move on.  I put myself back out there and I pulled myself together.  Lovers were easy to find.  I was young, and pretty enough and unafraid of venturing out to new possibilities. But other men were not like him.  At times I felt that was a good thing, it took me such a long time to heal, and yet I yearned to find another like him. I wanted that to happen. I wanted someone that would make my eyes light up again, someone who could reach inside of me and make me feel validated.  I wanted someone to kiss me, to touch me in all of the right places that only he knew.

And then one evening this man from my past wanted to see if the feelings we once had for each other could grow now that we were older.

He messaged me one night to confess that he still thought of me every day and that I was the one, the only one and could we please try again, this time with complete trust in where this thing we shared could go. He wanted to love me, in a way only I would understand, in a way only I would succumb to.

And so of course I did. I understood him, I felt his heat when he arrived at my door that night.  I let him in, and he took me in his arms without a hello, and pulled down my panties before I could speak.

“Do you always answer your door like that?” He smacked my butt, and I felt that sting.

  I could feel his hardness, as he quickly unloosened his pants and thrust himself inside my already wet pussy………and turned me around to face the wall as I tried to slow him down.  He was relentless in his pursuit of having me this way.  He would not stop until he was totally satisfied, in any way he wanted.  He never said a word. With both hands he grabbed my breasts and found my nipples. There was no tenderness, no sweetness, and I could not even speak as the tears rolled down my cheeks.

He was back!

And so, the games began.  I work in the city that never sleeps.  I am a freelance photographer and somewhat a voyeur.  I arrive at crime scenes, celebrations, sex clubs, any place that I can capture a moment that others want to see.  My audience loves to be surprised, my clients are wealthy in the sense that they understand how one captures a moment and are willing to pay for that privilege.

My pictures are unique, artistic……clients pay to see my work. Clients have paid to see me naked. Clients pay to see…….he knew that, and he would encourage me.

He messaged me days later, after that first encounter and asked me to meet him at a local restaurant for a nice quiet dinner.  I didn’t see him when I first arrived, the host led me to a table and I waited.  I watched as he walked in with another woman.  She was tall, very blond and striking, and I wondered what the night might bring. What was he up to?  He introduced us as she took a seat next to me, he was on the other side of me.

“I have been wanting to meet you, the woman my husband can’t seem to forget.”

” Really?  I’m sorry, I didn’t know he had married.”

“I understand.  Would you have agreed to see him if you knew?”

” I don’t know, probably not.”

“And now?  Do you still want to see him now that you do know?”

“I don’t think so…….this is all very weird.”

I crossed and uncrossed my legs as I felt his hand reaching for my naked thigh, sliding up until his hand could go no further, as he sat, watching me, wanting him to go further, knowing he could not.

“Why do you feel weird, are you uncomfortable? “

 “Somewhat, if you would both excuse me, I am going to the ladies room.”

I knew she would follow.  I entered a stall and relieved myself, wishing that I had worn a pair of leggings, rather than a short skirt without any undergarments.  And there she was when I opened the door……waiting.

“What is it that you want with my husband? Is it just sex? “

“I’m sorry, no. I mean, I didn’t know he was married, and he called me.”

“Ok, so what is it that you want? Now that you do know.”

She took a step towards me, and as she did, she entered the room and locked the door, at least I thought she did.

I stood there, frozen, not sure where this was going, and that was when she reached out to me and gently pulled me into her arms, her breath was sweet, her embrace was actually quite pleasurable.  I felt her lips lightly kiss my neck.

“I want this to be a good experience for you.  I want you to relax, I want to touch you, is that ok?” I hesitated at first………

“Yes” I whispered, as she slid her hand beneath my skirt. She sighed when she found I was wearing no panties and stroked my labia, before inserting her finger inside of me, as she opened the buttons on my blouse exposing my erect nipples.

“Put another finger in….. I asked…….and another” I opened my legs, and she did as I asked, ” I want you to finger fuck me.”

That was when she made her move, as her fingers worked faster bringing me to orgasm, he pulled my skirt up from behind, pressing his erection against me while her fingers continued to explore my clitoris.

I was their captive. I was wet and I was enthralled….and then she turned me to face him and held my hands behind me as he stroked his penis, and he came all over me.

I never saw or heard from either one of them again, until months later.  I was doing a photoshoot with a newly married couple in Central Park.  They were walking, holding hands with a little girl, and I knew she was theirs.  We all locked eyes, they smiled and waved to me and kept walking.

Later that evening as I was editing my work, there was a knock. I was wearing a pair of black panties with nothing else when without a thought, I opened my access.

“Do you always answer your door like that?”