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Graham whittaker

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Books by Graham whittaker
When It's Over... It's Over
By Graham whittaker
Posted: Sunday, July 03, 2005
Last edited: Saturday, February 09, 2013
This short story is rated "R" by the Author.
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           >> View all 37
Put yourself in .... the victims place?

When it’s over it’s over… I’m not usually one for post coital conversation. It makes me uncomfortable. But on this occasion I sensed that in addition to the forty minutes of perspiration soaked pumping… conversation was what I was going to get. His finger traced a line down my naked back from neck to arse, pausing at arse before planting a kiss on it. Almost immediately a rash of goosebumps covered my body. “You faked it - didn’t you” Except for the crisp white sheet I was stretched out on, the bedcovers lay in a frenzied heap on the floor. The hotel room’s cold, artificial air sent a little chill through me. My mind hosted a quick debate on the topic Faking orgasms occasionally is good for a relationship. The affirmative won by a whisker but I decided to lie anyway. I hoped I didn’t sound too irritated. “Why the hell would I do that? I have a husband I can fake it with. What would be the point of having an affair if I’m going to feign sexual satisfaction. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t an affair based on sexual gratification? Today was amazing. It’s always amazing with you” He said nothing for a moment. I thought I was safe. I desperately wanted a nap. “I dunno – it’s just that I want you to tell me if I’m not doing everything right. I want to please you - every time” I rolled over on my back. He sat naked and cross legged, at the foot of the bed. His cock still boldly holding a mild erection. “You DO please me every time. You please me enormously EVERY TIME.” I smiled and held out my arms, into which he tumbled like a child needing reassurance from a mother. I knew that conversation was now inevitable. Lots of conversation that would probably lead to another bout of urgent, tumultuous sex. “Do you know how long we’ve been doing this…? “Doing what?” I teased “Fucking” “Oh I don’t know. 6 months maybe?” He sat up and gave me his duh…are you kidding…? grin “It’s been nearly eight. And I worked it out the other day. We’ve probably had sex about a hundred and fifty times. And rarely in the same place twice. Isn’t that amazing?” I didn’t mean to laugh at that point, but I couldn’t help it. The grin disappeared as he straddled me and cupped my breasts gently. “How many times …out of that hundred and fifty would you say I’ve made you come…?” “What are you…the bureau of statistics?” “No, I was just wondering” I couldn’t keep the irritation out of my voice.. “Rick, it doesn’t matter… does it? To be honest I haven’t kept count, and having an orgasm isn’t the be-all and end-all for me.” “I know…but it turns me on so much when I can make it happen for you” I wished that he could make silence happen for me. “I hate it when you analyse things Rick. Can’t we just enjoy the sex for what it is?” His reaction surprised the hell out of me. He climbed off me…his green eyes flashing with anger. “THE SEX? The sex? Like…the breakfast cereal. Or the flu? What’s going on here Morgan. Are you bored with me and this relationship or something? Is there someone else you’d rather be fucking besides me?” I sat up and faced him directly. My own reaction surprised me too. I realised that my words mirrored feelings I’d been suppressing for weeks. “It’s not YOU I’m bored with, just all this stupid chit chat and you trying to pigeon hole this...this situation. This is an AFFAIR Rick, not a relationship. A relationship is what I have with my husband. You’ve known this all along. I’m married and I choose to stay married. What we have is sex. Lots of it. And that’s all we can ever have. I don’t intend to leave my husband. And even if I did, I doubt if…” I stopped myself but it was too late. I’d delivered the fatal blow. Hurt was spurting from a major artery. “Oh I see. Even if you did leave him, we wouldn’t continue… right?” I tried to stem the flow. “Look Rick the last six…I mean eight months has been amazing…” “HAS been…? Oh so I’m right. This is it then. Just like that. I knew something was wrong, I’ve sensed it for ages.” The crumpled look on his face activated a tiny worm of panic inside me. It started burrowing through my stomach. “What IS it with you Rick. We’ve both always known where we stand on this. My feelings for you are entirely separate to my feelings for Derek. You and I have no ties to each other – you are completely free to pursue other relationships. An affair lasts as long as it does.” “Don’t quote me from one of your books Morgan. I’m not a piece of research…or am I? But then… affairs are your specialty. You know what? You’re so damn fucking cold and unfeeling.” He leapt from the bed and fumbled under the pile of bedclothes for his jocks. He dressed in moments. After putting on his shoes, he sat on the edge of the bed with his back to me. I heard the small quaver in his voice as he finally said the dreaded words that had gone unspoken for eight months. “I love you Morgan. I know you don’t want to hear it, and I didn’t expect it to happen, but I thought you would have sensed it by now. I even hoped you might share my feelings. All those times we made love…I can’t believe you felt it was nothing more than sex. You couldn’t be that detached. But then anyone who could go home to her husband and hop into bed with the smell of another man still on her has no feelings for anyone but herself” “Rick!” “Forget it Morgan. I know it’s over, but don’t ask me for quiet acceptance. I have feelings too you know” He strode to the door and was gone. Later that evening, Derek and I shared a quiet meal at Antonio’s, one of our favourite Italian restaurants in Paddington. We both enjoyed Antonio’s cosy dark corners where we could hide. This evening, despite the sensuous gloom of candlelight, a plump woman around mid forties wearing a loose fitting floral dress waddled towards us. She clutched a copy of my latest book “When It’s Over …It’s Over” to her generous bosom. “Oh my God! It IS you. Morgan McLean. I thought it was you when you walked in. I love your books – they’ve helped me so much with my self esteem. You’ve shown me that it’s okay to be me – I feel so liberated and in control of my life now. Thanks to you I now have the courage to end an affair …” I was slightly taken aback. More than a little surprised that this homely woman would be engaging in an extra marital relationship. Still, if I believed my own words, it should have come as no surprise that affairs… like shit I’d come to discover…happen. She bent down slightly towards me and whispered “You are the BEST relationship expert I have ever come across. I’d rather read your books than do anything in the whole wide world.” Other than eat, I thought. “I’m so glad my books have been a positive in your life” I pasted on my fake smile and took the book from her. She thrust a pen at me. “Can you write…“To Julie, your life is about to change in a big way…best wishes Morgan McLean” I did so and handed the book and pen back to her. “How do you think he’ll take it…?” I asked “Sorry?” “When you end your affair…” The woman frowned. “Oh I’m not having an affair, my husband is. And I haven’t ended it yet, but I will..tonight I think” The woman beamed a wide smile, gushed her thank you’s, and swept away. Throughout all this, Derek sat quiet and invisible. He was used to strangers accosting me in restaurants, cinemas, theatres, art galleries. He always stepped back and let me handle it – and always with an amused grin on his face. I know this all sounds bizarre, but with Derek I have almost everything. Companionship, friendship, someone I can laugh with and share my innermost thoughts. He has supported me through every step of my career, and nursed me through the many rejections from publishers as I tried to build it. It was Derek who arranged my first television interview and from there, my career soared. He has promoted and marketed my work and I owe him everything. Dear stable, quiet, reliable Derek. My partner for fifteen years. My rock. Yes, with Derek I have everything. Except a sex life. I was 27 when we met. I was a magazine journalist at the time. Good for bread and butter but I hated it. I desperately wanted to write books. I’d written a romantic, epic novel – a pretty bad one now that I think of it, although I was convinced it was the next Gone With the Wind. Never published of course.. Years earlier in university, I had gained a degree in Clinical Psychology, a subject which was useful for the next two murder mystery novels. Also pretty bad, and also never published. Derek was – and still is – an advertising guru. One of the owners and founders of the largest advertising company in the country, Simbleton, Obley, Struther. From the first moment I met him, I loved his lazy, laconic style of humour. The fact that he was twenty years my senior didn’t seem to matter at the time. He was single, in fact never married. It would be remiss of me not to mention his wealth and influence as an attractive feature. And his blonde, boyish good looks wrapped up a package that seemed far too good to be true . We were smitten with each other and within 4 months we were married. I felt as though I’d been let loose in the biggest and best department store in the world. However, about a month after our marriage, I realised that if I wanted anything resembling a sex life, I would have to shop in another department store. While Derek’s sex drive was low but adequate before we married, it quickly dwindled to almost zero afterwards. At first I thought I’d married a gay man. In many ways I could have accepted it more easily if Derek had been gay. We visited clinics, psychologists, psychiatrists and sex therapists…all to no avail. We tried drug therapy, acupuncture, meditation – even a tantric instructor.


Web Site: Picking Up Peas With Chopsticks  

Reader Reviews for "When It's Over... It's Over"

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Reviewed by Sandy Knauer 8/1/2005
Great story, well written and entertaining.
Reviewed by Sandra Mushi 7/8/2005
What a thriller! Wow! What a rush!!! I never saw it coming! Excellent, well penned write Dorah!!!

God bless,

Reviewed by m j hollingshead 7/7/2005
well done, good suspense
Reviewed by April Smith 7/5/2005
Wow, shocking ending! I could really feel the characters emotions as you wrote them. Thanks for sharing, April
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 7/5/2005
excellent story, dora; very well done! brava!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in tx., karen lynn. :D
Reviewed by Hilding Lindquist 7/4/2005
The writing and the theme pulled me right on through into the conflict ... the weave of the various threads was seamless ... I could NOT stop reading ... and the ending was totally satisfying ... I didn't see it coming and it made complete sense when it came.

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