PIT2/7: The Affair

Writers notation: This a ‘very’ shortened (PG Rated) version of Elizabeth Herzon and Mitchell Lipensky's first (XX Rated) sexual encounter as they are are, so to speak, rounding first base on their way to total infidelity … And what came after.

“Oh, my God!” There is so much to say about Elizabeth and that is ‘not’ what I intended to do now. So okay— coming out of the sequence of time, we’ll have a ‘taste’ of some XX rated stuff (because this writer likes writing about XX rated stuff) along with Elizabeth’s request to Her doctor. Sleep Talk and Mister Berkowitz. Then — the very short Lita (from 5/11/86 to 6/19/86) and Barbara (from 6/ 18/09 to 6/21/09) episodes as the writer (me) is becoming anxious to get back to 2010 and whatever comes next, and especially ‘which’, if any of the women it will be.

But now, back to...

February 27, 1963 —

9:45 AM

Actually hoping she’d checked in already. “Donna...” his stomach quaking “...good morning! It’s Mitch Lipensky.”

“Morning, Mitchell.”

Th e pulsing of his heart felt in his throat,. “Has Elizabeth called in yet?”

“No. She usually checks in about ten, ten-thirty.”

“Could you tell her, please, that I think one of my customers is opening an office on her side of the street and that I’d like to talk to her about it.”

“Sure, Mitch.”

“Tell her I’m going to have lunch at Harding’s...” doing his best to sound nonchalant “...and if she wants to talk to me about the customer and has no other plans for lunch, ask if she’d meet me there at, oh, twelve, twelve-thirty.”

“Sure, Mitch. Anything else?”

“No… Yeah. Any calls for me?”

11:55 AM

“Table for one?”

No, I’m expecting someone.”

Maybe, in a perverse way this being the bravest thing he’d ever done, or most possibly the stupidest. Holding his breath, following the hostess upstairs…

Play it cool! Arriving at Harding’s a few minutes before twelve. Don’t look anxious! Asking to be seated on the second floor. Maybe that’s all he wants. Maybe he really does want to talk business.

The sentiment and excitement, along with the ramifications of an affair with Mitchell had played through her mind minimally a thousand times. On the one hand hopeful—Maybe that’s all he wants: to talk business. On the other hand hopeful—Oh, God, I hope not!

Following the hostess upstairs, coming off the stairs, his heart rate jumping from eighty to one-twenty. She’s here!

“Your party here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks.”

His eyes never leaving Elizabeth’s face, seeing a…? seriousness the expression on her face. She knows I’m not here to talk business.

Seriousness in the expression on his face. He’s not here in for business.

“Hi.”

Standing, “Hi.”

Having a need to touch… But to shake hands? To shake hands? Not this time! Not now!

Bringing his lips to her cheek…Elizabeth turned her head and rather than the intended kiss on her cheek Elizabeth and Mitchell’s lips came together and, unlike the kiss of two platonic friends meeting for lunch, and certainly unlike the kiss of a man and woman conducting business…

They kissed.

Elizabeth Herzon and Mitchell Lipensky kissed the kiss of reunited lovers.

Their kiss breaking, breathing heavily, the two stared questioningly at each other for five rapid heartbeats… Then looked about to see who might be watching.

But a husband and wife or a girlfriend and boyfriend ardently kissing hello in this restaurant no big deal, no one in particular seemed to be watching.

Sitting, Mitchell had no idea what to say.

Unblinking green eyes staring into unblinking green eyes, his hands on the table, hers on her lap, both searching for something to say…

“Your hair’s shorter than last time.”

Both knowing they’d opened a door, but knowing the door wasn’t opened so widely it couldn’t be shut. However…

“It gets so darn hot here in summer and I hate the feel of too much hair on my neck so…”

Opening the door a bit wider, placing her hand onto the table, but just an inch from Mitchell’s hand and, as though the air between their two hands was suddenly charged with magnetised static electricity, the barely seen tendrils of Elizabeth’s dark blonde hair as well as Mitchell’s much darker hair stood on end as the hands were inexorably drawn the half inch it took each to touch… then hold.

Looking at their entwined hands, then back, to the other’s eyes.

Feeling the contact, thoughts of the implications of this minimal show of affection swirled through both minds.

“Mitchell...” tightening her fingers about his hand “...we’ve done nothing wrong yet.”

“Well,” chuckling drily, “that kiss wasn’t exactly a ‘hi, good to see you again, ma’am’ kind’a kiss.”

“But, please, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“What I want to do?” His eyes again fastened on hers, “Elizabeth...” his voice barely above a whisper, “...what I want is to be with you! To be in a bed naked with you. But I’m… Jesus, I’ve three kids, and you’ve a husband!”

“Right now! Mitchie, we can walk away from this right now!” Swallowing, her eyes became glassy. “If you want, you and me, we can walk away from each other right now.”

“My God, Lizzie, ‘no’! I do not want to walk away from you!”

“I’m glad, honey, ‘cause I don’t want to walk away from you either.”

“Mitchell...” her other hand pressed to his cheek “...when do you usually get home?”

“Depending on traffic, usually, sometime between five and six.”

Her heartbeat pulsing . “Come home with me now.”

His heart pounding, “Your husband…?”

“He’s at a seminar today and won’t be home till ten or so.”

Holding both her hands to his lips, kissing one, then the other. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Sensing the heat within her vagina. “You’ll come home with me?”

Feeling his penis tighten, “Yeah, baby.”

Having ordered nothing, leaving a two dollar tip...

Outside, onto a frigid, windblown Wabash Avenue, “Where’s your car?”

“I drive to Howard, then take the El downtown. Yours?”

“I’ve got monthly parking at the lot on ‘La Salle’. Come on, I’ll take you to yours then you can follow me home.”

The late model Oldsmobile turned onto Lake Shore Drive.

“Where do you live, Mitch?”

Mitchell’s thoughts vacillating between the excitement of knowing who he was with and what was about to happen… along with the possible consequences.

“Des Plaines.”

“Des Plaines! That’s pretty far from work.”

“Yeah...” looking at Elizabeth in profile, knowing that his fantasy was about to become reality, her beauty warming his still fearful mood, “...it is.”

As though knowing his thoughts, as though wanting to strengthen his resolve, actually shocked by her brazen move, Elizabeth placed her right hand high onto his thigh.

Feeling the warmth of her hand. Looking at her hand, his stomach twitching at the thought that her hand was but an inch from his penis. “Elizabeth…” wanting to say, ‘I can’t do this!’ Wanting to say, ‘When we get my car I’m just going to go home.” However, “If not for the kids I would ask for a divorce!" he said forcefully. “But I love my kids and do not want to be separated from them!”

“I know you do,” glancing at him, “and I don’t blame you, not one bit!”

“Anything we do…” his hand now on hers, moving it imperceptibly higher, imperceptibly closer, “has to be strictly between you’n’me!”

Well aware of where her hand was, “I know.” she stretched her thumb forward.

Feeling the tip of her thumb graze the tip of his no-longer flaccid penis, “I…” Her barely felt touch causing a slight tickle within his urethra telling Mitchell his semen was starting to flow. “…I love you!”

Looking straight forward, her bottom lip held between her teeth, feeling ‘him’ through his slacks. “Me, too, Mitchie, I love you, too.”

Clenching her thighs, Elizabeth imagined she could hear herself squish.

“But I want you to know right now...” he said emphatically, “...that I’ll never leave my wife!”

“Because of your kids?”

“Yes. Absolutely because of my kids. I do ‘not’ want anyone to know about us!”

Thinking, his kids, not his wife! “Mitchell, I’m married, too, you know. And I love my job! And if it ever did get out, about you and me, we’d probably both be fired, so trust me, this will be strictly between us!”

Once again in their quiet mode.

Mitchell wondering if he should ‘really’ go through with this, but knew he would.

Elizabeth thinking, Should I tell him now? Recalling Myron’s look of disgust when he’d first seen her naked. Deciding… “Mitch, I’ve got to tell you something.”

Her tone alarming him, his first thought, She’s had a mastectomy !

“When I was a kid, I was really fat.”

Unable to visualise Elizabeth as a fat person.“Well, you look great now, baby.”

“Yes, dressed I know I look good, but naked… Mitchie, I  don’t want you to be disappointment! But when I lost all that weight I’ve been left with horrible stretch marks all over my tits and thighs and ass.

The thought of Marsha immediately coming to mind and the stretch marks over her tits and belly that came after the birth of Sammy that ‘never’ deterred him from wanting to fuck his wife.

“Lizzie…” said sincerely “...I ‘promise’ I won’t care!”

The Oldsmobile turned off ‘Lake Shore’ onto ‘Bryn Mawr’, onto ‘Ridge’ angling northwest to—the street that bordered the Cities of Chicago and Evanston—to ‘Howard Street’ and the Elevated station. Taking a right on Howard…

“There it is.”

“The Coral ‘Lark’?”

“Yes.”

Writers Notation:The next instance will be taken from the next context of time.

In Elizabeth's apartment, in the guest bedroom.

Not bothering to unbutton it, pulling her blouse and loosened bra over her head, standing, lowering her skirt and knee length hose…

Short of exhibition, loving being nude in front of a woman, though knowing his wife no longer looked at him, no longer saw him, lowering his slacks, along with his shorts.

When released, his penis springing forward— watching Elizabeth watch him…

Both standing nude now.

As much as Mitchell Lipensky enjoyed the sensation of standing nude before this young woman…

This young woman, in spite of her husband’s taunts, threats and cajoling, knew that her body was far from—forget perfect—Elizabeth Herzon/Lipshitz knew that her body was far from what she hoped it, one day, might be, but, amazingly, now being nude with Mitchell overshadowing any doubts she had…

This is me, Elizabeth thought for the first time in her life. Love me for me!

Each seeing what until that moment had only been a fantasied dream of the other

And, oh, no, not disappointed by any means!

The dream of his fantasy, the fantasy Mitchell Lipensky’s erotic dreams were made of, the real Elizabeth different than his dream Elizabeth…

This Elizabeth, the real Elizabeth even more than his imagined dream girl. “Oh, my God, Lizzie!”

Looking at the no longer illusory beauty of Elizabeth’s naturally hanging breasts. Looking at the silver-dollar size, pale pink areolae, along with the trimmed thatch of dark blonde pubic hair. Exciting him almost beyond comprehension; stretch marks across her breasts, soft abdomen and fairly wide hips bothering him not in the slightest! “Oh, my God, Lizzie!” Sensing the tickle within his urethra, “You are beautiful!”

Pretty much as she’d imagined, the dream of her fantasy Mitchell, except for his penis, not too different from the real Mitchell now before her.

Darker complexioned, with more body hair and far less muscular than her overly athletic husband, which was just fine with Elizabeth. Looking at Mitchell’s rigid penis—though not having the length of Myron’s, was certainly thicker than Myron’s. Seeing the crystalline string of semen…

Anxious before, anxiety levels now beyond comprehension…

Each studying the other…

My God! Both thinking the same thought.

Becoming visually acquainted one with the other…

The barely seen stream of semen lengthened…

The fluid within her vagina flecking onto the low hair there.

Laying. “Come on, baby!” Her arms open to him. Her thighs open to him. Once again surprised at her wantonness. “Fuck me, Mitchie!”

Looking at the stunning picture before him, still not quite believing he was really here, receiving an invitation from the loveliest woman he’d ever seen, let alone “been with”…

Remembering, “Lizzie, I never thought we’d be here, like this, at least today, and I don’t have a rubber.”

“No need, baby. I’m on birth control.” Wiggling her fingers in a ‘come on’ gesture. “Come, on, baby! Fuck me!”

Looking at Elizabeth’s breasts, now flattened across her chest. Looking at Elizabeth’s obviously easily excited nipples protruding a half inch above the tightening, now russet-colored areolae. Knowing how quickly he could ejaculate—no time for foreplay—positioning his body between her thighs and into Elizabeth’s arms, hearing, actually hearing the displacement of fluid as, needing no compass, immediately finding its way, My God, his penis swathed within the slick heat, Elizabeth’s thighs held tightly about his waist, her pelvis immediately pumping hungrily. Knowing he could be seconds from ejaculation and not wanting to—allowing her whatever movement she needed, bringing his mouth to her mouth... feeling the soft heat ofElizabeth’s bare chest against his bare chest…

“Oh, baby!” Her thighs loosening, her legs extending from side to side, with each thrust hearing the wet sounds emanating from the upward and downward thrusting of her vagina onto his penis. “Yeah, baby!” moaning loudly, “Yeah, baby!” Arching her pelvis upward, “Oh, God!” and downward.

Hearing her! Actually hearing a woman in the throes of passion, and by her accelerated movement sensing the onset of her orgasm, joining in now, pumping now… once, twice, three times… “Oh, my God!” Feeling the sweet explosion. The sense of this stronger, harder, sweeter than any in recent memory

Feeling the throbbing ejaculations. “Yeah, baby! It’s okay, baby!” Her legs again tightening about his waist, “‘Come’ baby!” Her lips coming back to his lips, knowing he was triggered a second orgasm, or possibly this was one continuing orgasm.

Beyond description, the sweet pulsing pounded from brain to rectum…

“My God, Mitchie,” breathing huskily in his ear, “that’s never happened before!”

“What?” Catching his breath, feeling her breath. “What’s never happened before?”

“Myron’n’me, we’ve never come together! I’ve never come at the same time with Myron.” Their faces inches away, feeling his breath on her face, looking closely into his eyes, holding nothing back, wanting to hold nothing back. “And I think I came twice!” Thinking, rightfully, that his wife doesn’t tell him often enough, or ever, “Mitchie, you were wonderful!”

Taken back by Elizabeth’s frankness, I’m wonderful! he thought. A woman that loves having sex with me, and thinks I’m wonderful! Looking into her eyes, feeling her breath on his face, the words sounding completely inadequate, “Lizzie, honey, I didn’t do anything; it’s you that’s wonderful.”

Rolling over now, laying closely side by side, their hips touching, their hands held…

Elizabeth watched as, the blood draining from the spongy cells, Mitchell’s penis lowered, than draped onto his thigh, as…

Mitchell watched as, no longer excited, looking somewhat like a cherry pit in the sphere of her once again smooth, light pink areolae, Elizabeth’s stiffly standing nipples retracted.

Holding hands now, laying quietly side by side—I love you—each thinking the thought that both knew, at least for now, would best be left unsaid.

“Know what I’d love to do, Mitchie?”

At this time anything Elizabeth would love to do was okay with him.

Rolling off the bed, “I’d love to take a shower with you!” Taking hold of his arms, she pulled him upright.

Watching the sway of her breasts, “A shower together!” Scooting to the other side of the bed, “I’d love to!”

Next PIT2/8: On To Realty