The first baby, our son Red Hawk, was two months old when Carol called. It sounded strange to talk with her after all the months of silence, yet at the same time, it felt good. She was expanding her business in Manhattan and life was great. The last comment she made, however, was the one that peaked my curiosity and sort of stuck in my mind, like a briar sticks in your pant leg.
Right before she said goodbye she said, “I haven’t had sex since the last time I did it with you. The night of suffering I went through in Dover, when you confessed Cordra, was uneventful. I couldn’t get off even though I tried hard. Since then, the few times I’ve tried dating men, I’ve met with the same fate. I just don’t want to get intimate with them or with myself. So, I’ve chosen a life of chastity. If Cordra had something to do with that, thank her for me. I truly love it. See ya sometime. Maybe.”
The comment weighed on my mind for a few weeks before Cordra asked me what was wrong. She was great about that; letting me talk to her when I had a problem and prompting me if I wouldn’t. She knew that Carol had talked with me, and since the talk, I had been moody.
“I didn’t consider it important,” I explained. “After all, she’s not my wife now. You know?”
“I know, but you’re still distant. Something she said is still on your mind. Out with it.”
“She said she hasn’t had sex since she had it with me, long ago. She said she seldom thinks of sex at all and can’t get it on with anyone or herself. And she said if you had something to do with it, to thank you sincerely. She likes the way she is right now.”
Cordra smiled her sweetest smile and went to sit on her mat in front of our teepee. “Is that all? Why would you dwell so long on that question?”
“I don’t know. I don’t recall much else, other than her business is doing rather well. She wasn’t depressed. She was really upbeat about life, but.”
“But, you’re curious. I love that about you. Curiosity is good, so long as you’re not curious about the sexual pleasure to be had with other women.” She held up her hand. “Don’t go there. I know I took you away from Carol. And I used sex as the bonding. She didn’t want, or need, or love you any longer. I do.”
I sensed her serious mood coming, and it excited me, because when she talked in that mood, she revealed her deepest self to me. I learned long ago to accept that, good or bad, wonderful or distasteful, sweet or nasty. Every revelation was accepted and treasured. “I won’t go there. So, lay it out.”
“Will it make a difference?”
“You already know it won’t, but to reassure you, my heart lies with you and you alone,” I said and sat beside her.
“I did have something to do with that, but it wasn’t done with anger or meanness. It was accomplished with a deep and sincere love for her.”
“While you drove her to Wilmington?”
“No. Long before that. Long before Carol and I met. One evening while you were out, I took the time to explore the whole house. I discovered her vibrator in a dresser drawer, folded up inside a pink nightgown. You know the one?”
“Yes. She stopped wearing it after we made Beth. The love making slowed and stopped after that also. Except on rare occasions.”
“Right on. Well, from that discovery I knew she used it frequently. Probably before she moved to New York and then when she came home. Did she?”
“Yes. She bought it because I was away from home so much. But later, she would turn to it versus me when she was horny. I could only touch her when she was safe or when she felt sorry for me. Then during the last few years, I was never horny around her. Never craved her like I used to. Strange.”
“Right on. You weren’t supposed to be. I could tell all that from the Carol leftovers on the vibrator. So, I took the opportunity to help her overcome her weakness. I don’t like the idea of plastic to replace the penis, but, in this case it was there and I had the need to deliver a message. I used it to get off twice.
“And before and after, I talked to it. I told it how much love I had for the owner. I asked and begged frequently for it to deliver the message. Then I would think of non-sexual thoughts, of celibacy, of chastity, of a life where sexual intercourse and self-induced orgasms were not respectful, tasteful, or desirable. I told it to let her know that nothing, no flesh penis or plastic device ever had to go inside her again, ever. After the second time, I’d occasionally just slip it inside me and sit on my mat for an hour and sing a Lakota chastity chant. I did that for a few weeks and returned it. I did it the last time the night I left your house.”
The news did not shock me, but I considered what she did wrong. I guess I remained silent too long.
“You find that disgusting?” she asked.
“Unsanitary at best. Did you do things like that with me?”
She grinned on that comment. “No. I didn’t have to. After the first time I drove you to work, I did fantasize what it would be like to have sex with you. I didn’t do that often. Then when I got the courage up to let you know, I gave you everything you needed that she withheld, and you responded in kind. I didn’t need any special tricks or tools.”
“True. How could you know she would try that?”
She giggled intensely. “I’m a just woman, and being so, I enjoy being different from men and especially you. That’s why I can love you so greatly, and you can love me the same.”
“So it didn’t bother you to use her vibrator?”
“It bothered me because it was not clean. However, in my mind it was a tool that she left for me to use. She has what she wanted for so long. She has a business, no man to fool with, no orgasm to deal with, and no guilt. She’s a chaste woman who loves herself as she is. She’s not orgasmic. She wanted that, and I very powerfully delivered the message she ached to hear. ‘Be true to yourself. It’s okay not to have sex. It’s okay not to use a penis or even a substitute. It’s okay not to touch yourself, ever.’ She sucked it up and sucked it in, and she left the medium for me to dispose of, which I did. So, would you change her? Would you have sex with her again, just to save her from herself?”
That question broke the trance that held me, and I replied freely and honestly, “No. If she’s happy, then let it be. Maybe I’m just a tad worried about the same magic or whatever being used on me. I love you, and I hope you know that. I just don’t want to love you because you’ve done some magic thing to make it so.”
“Did you enjoy loving Carol when you knew her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you enjoy having sex with her, enjoy her sexual scent? Did the smell of her turn you on, and you couldn’t get enough of her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you continue enjoying her sparse but intense bouts of sexual activity, until she stopped loving you, and her sexual activity dropped to zero?”
“Yes.”
“Do you miss her scent when you’re loving me?”
“No, of course not. Today, just like the first time you kissed me in the kitchen, I could not remember what she smelled like or what sex with her was like or what her kisses were like. That bothered me a lot. But, you were so clean, wholesome, and intoxicating; I could not imagine myself with any other woman, ever. I could not remember what ANY sexual experience with her was like. With you, I can’t stop remembering the first time on your mat or in my bed. You’re so active in my mind and heart that it drowns out everything I can possibly remember about her. You know?” I said, a little more frustrated than I wished.
“Then let my love suffice,” she said.
“I have! I just still have a lot to catch up on. I don’t want to go back. That sucks. However, I demand the right to learn all I can about you, from you, and through you.”
“You got it, my love. Learn at your own pace.”