I Wish I Knew Then What I Know Now

I ran across an often-used sentiment at A Special Thank You .... The author said, “Looking back I wish I knew then what I know now.” Her writing is one that most often arouses in me the need to relate my thoughts and experiences on the same subject. This time she is writing about when she was first dating John, her husband and slave of many years.

MW will probably have me sleep with the dogs for the next few nights for this revelation. We don’t actually have a doghouse, but if we did, I could experience the pleasure. Here it goes anyway.

I am reminded of a girlfriend while I was young and naïve. We worked at the same company. My boss suggested that there was this girl, Betty, in the office who was also young and naïve, and that the two of us could be "young and naïve together." Or something like that. Anyway, he pointed out that her face was not that great, but the rest of her was as good as it gets.

Betty was not a classic beauty, but I found her tremendously attractive. In my assessment her figure was “nicely proportioned, well developed in all areas, favorably impressed 98 percent of males, and made females produce jealously snide comments.” We began to date.

The perfume Betty wore on our dates was like the gravitational force between large masses: it acted at a distance, and there was no natural way to fight its attraction. When I went out with her, I wore a nice dress shirt among other things. We hugged and kissed. Her perfume enhanced by her warm clean skin imparted the most enthralling scent to my shirt. The next day when I went to work, I wore the same shirt. Inhaling her heavenly scent all day made my otherwise long boring job joyous.

One might assume at this point that I was in love. Not so. Most certainly “I was in lust with her.” As naïve as I was then, if I had thought that I was in love, I would have asked her to marry me. I wanted penetrating sex with her. Well, any kind of sex for that matter. She did not exactly turn me down. Instead, she said, “Say the magic words, and you will have it.”

As it turns out, I did not say the magic words, and then the other thing did not happen either. But that does not mean that we did nothing. By today’s standards whatever we did would be considered a play date between two nine year olds. Which brings me to the theme of this post, which I introduced at the beginning: “I wish I knew then what I know now.” What I know now is what I have learned since I married my sweetheart, MW, whose name is not, even coincidentally, Betty. It took a while to learn, for we both were inexperienced, but the process was delightful. It was a process that was not available to me while I dated Betty. Getting back to Betty …

After dinner out, or a drive-in movie, or some other public entertainment we usually returned to her apartment. We remained in our clothes. Well, mostly. Some wine, good music, and her devastatingly sexy self were conducive to hours of sitting or semi-reclining on her sofa. We kissed, although kissing is not nearly descriptive enough. We inhaled each other’s pheromones. Her blouse was open, and at some point her generous breasts were free of constraints. I must admire her self-control. She was hot! My being a gentleman (read that as naïve, inexperienced, non-devious) allowed her to at least experience what I could offer, if only she were willing to accept.

In those dark hours of the late evenings, often going through the night, my fingers found their way to that juicy, lovely, feminine place that was otherwise denied to me. She was thoroughly wet. Her essence was all over my hand, and often found its way to my lips and tongue. Alas, only second-hand. If only I had the knowledge of what my lips and tongue could do to her directly, we might have had our mutual pleasure escalated to another level.

I feel bad about the missed opportunity, for it would have been benign. In spite of that, Betty and I still would not have married. However, I don’t hold a grudge against fate. Years later I did marry the woman whom I almost instantly came to love. MW and I had frustrations about my need to serve her orally, and her being shy about it. But as you may have guessed, we overcame her shyness to a large extent. All that time I learned that serving MW orally was more satisfying to me than any other sex with her. That is not saying that I would turn down anything that she wants to do with me, or to me for that matter. Just that pleasing her in that manner is my ultimate joy and satisfaction. So, maybe Betty’s purpose in my life was to prime the pump that later served our pleasure between MW and me. I have only good recollections of the beginning, and the subsequent process. I hope that MW sees this as a necessary step in my development to serve her.