Life Begins Again Ch. 01

Looking around the room at the eight people seated in chairs in a circle, Andrew Morgan couldn't ever remember seeing a sadder group; not even at any of the many funerals he had attended. A very attractive woman sitting directly across from him about his age—early 40's—caught his eye. He noticed her rounded breasts bubbling out of her low cut top, and her shapely legs visible from her moderately short skirt, and was briefly amazed that she could arrest his attention. She glanced at him, offering a hint of a smile, which he returned, and they both quickly turned away as though such a gesture was not permitted.

A woman seated at three o'clock from him stood to speak. "You're all here because your spouse left you for someone else," Dr. Joanne Podesta began. "You've gone through ugly divorces and you're struggling with that or you wouldn't be here. I'm here to tell you that you did nothing to cause this. That may not be how some of you feel, it may be contrary to accusations made by those former spouses, but it's not your fault. That's not to say you're blameless. But remember, it takes two to tango.

"We live in a fast food society with a throwaway mentality. We get tired of our automobile, we buy a new one. We don't like where we live, we move. We lose interest in our job, we look for a new one. And with the divorce rate at over fifty percent, we fall out of love with our spouse, and instead of attempting to preserve or repair our marriage, we leave it. None of you voluntarily left your marriage. None of you are at fault.

"You will get through this, you will move on, and many of you will find someone else. And that is the goal of this group therapy. I want us to go around the room, introduce yourself, first name only, and tell a little about why you're here."

The gentleman to the doctor's right went first—Ralph—and spoke in a quiet, mumbling voice. Andrew Morgan barely heard him. But when the pretty woman he previously exchanged smiles with talked, he listened.

"I'm Nicole," she began nervously, tugging her skirt down another inch as though that made a difference. "My husband left me for another woman. I don't know why. I don't even know who she is and that bothers me. And I don't know what to do."

Andrew Morgan heard no one after that. It wasn't that what Nicole said was so profound; there was just something in her tone and demeanor that had him stealing glances at her whenever he could. And then it was his turn. And having not considered what he would say due to his preoccupation, with sentiments mirroring the object of his attention, he echoed, "I'm Andy, and not to sound redundant, my wife left me for another man. I don't know why, either. I also do not know who he is and that bothers me, as well. Likewise, I don't know what to do, nor do I know what I want to do."

There were polite chuckles; nothing demeaning, but it earned him another warm smile from Nicole.

"So, when a spouse decides to have an affair," Dr. Podesta posed, "what issue does that suggest?"

"Sex," Ralph spoke up. "My wife didn't seem to want it with me."

"Nor my husband with me," another woman concurred.

This led to a discussion about sex being the root cause for everyone's divorce. All attendees agreed that it had been an issue with their exes. Many felt that it had been a performance issue on their part, as though they were somehow not adequate in bed.

"What I'm hearing," Dr. Podesta summed up, "is that none of you thought you were any good in the sack." She phrased it in the vernacular to lighten the mood. It drew some snickers. "I'm here to tell you that it wasn't you."

"How can you say that?" another gent asked, then added with some embarrassment, "you never . . . experienced me."

Even Dr. Podesta chuckled at that. "It's all about compatibility. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on your point of view—the only test is doing it with someone. You and your exes might not have been compatible. But that is not to say that your next partner won't think you're the greatest lover ever. Now, I'm not suggesting that you start hanging out in singles bars. I am telling you not to sell yourself short. You might hit it off perfectly in bed with your next partner. If not, learn what that person's sexual likes and dislikes are. Sexual compatibility is like love; most often it's something you have to really work at.

"Our time is just about up, but what I'd like you to try to do before next time is to have sex if at all possible. I know that's easier said than done. But if you have the opportunity, do it. Don't obsess about it, don't do anything illegal to get it, and certainly don't pay for it." Now there were nervous giggles. "What I want you to discover is that there is someone out there for you. And I'm not suggesting that you enter into a relationship. Basically, I just want you to get laid!"

Dr. Podesta liked to end her sessions on a humorous note, and that certainly did it.

* * *

The compatibility issue hit home with Andy. However he never thought it was because of any lack of skill on his part. That wasn't to say he thought he was the world's greatest lover. He knew better than that. That was also why he didn't want to make that point during the meeting and sound as though he was boasting. The fact was, he thought his wife just didn't enjoy sex. Although, now, upon reflection, it seemed more probable she just didn't like sex with him. So, it was compatibility. The doctor knew what she was talking about. And it did make him feel better.

He was intentionally slow to leave the meeting. He wanted to exit with Nicole. Why, he did not know. Aside from just looking, he hadn't been interested in another woman since the day his ex announced she wanted a divorce. He hadn't even had sex since then. That made this assignment somewhat intimidating. Although, if Nicole could be his test case . . . Why was he having such thoughts?

When she ended up alongside of him as they departed, Andy mentioned, "Sorry, I copied your introduction, but you really captured the situation in a nutshell."

Nicole offered her very becoming smile. "No worries. Glad I could help."

Too nervous to say any more, Andy merely thanked her and went on his way.

* * *

Aside from noticing that Andy was handsome, Nicole really gave him no further thought. He was obviously as nervous as was everyone else.

She was among those who believed that something she had done or not done sexually was what drove her ex into another woman's arms. She wasn't sure how much she bought into the compatibility issue. But one thing was certain. There would be no way for her to test that theory. She was not going to go out and pick up a man just to have sex. There were a couple of guys at work whom she was sure would be willing, but she didn't care for the message it would send.

On the other hand, Nicole hadn't had sex since her husband moved out, and she actually kind of missed it. She hadn't really thought much about that for a while. Perhaps today's session was a reminder that it had been a long time. Whether she considered her ex to have been good in bed and/or herself to have been poor, whatever they had done, she had enjoyed it. A part of her even wondered if she knew what good sex really was. She'd always believed that wine did not have to be expensive to be good; that if it tasted good and she liked it, it was a good wine. Was the same concept true about sex? If she enjoyed it and climaxed it was good sex? Or had she yet to experience that?

These thoughts carried her all the way home. Her 19 year-old son, Nick, was waiting for her when she entered.

"How did it go?" he asked without greeting.

"Hello to you, too," Nicole said.

"Hi, mom," he offered to appease her. "So, how did it go?"

Nicole shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

"That doesn't sound encouraging."

"It was just one group session."

"What does that mean?"

"It means these things take time." She saw he was dressed in gym shorts and t-shirt. "What have you been doing?"

"I played a little basketball with some friends."

Ether Nicole didn't see her son in gym clothes much or she hadn't noticed that he was turning into quite a young man. He had developed a masculine physique, not bulging muscles, but a very pleasing appearance. "We'll, let's see what we can rustle up for dinner."

* * *

It was a similar scene at Andy Morgan's home. His 19 year-old daughter, Andrea, who had refused to leave with her "cheating" mother, was waiting for him. She approached him, gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. "Hi, dad."

"Hey, sweetie." He put his briefcase down in its usual place on the floor just outside the foyer. Since the divorce, father and daughter had learned to be open with each other and there was very little they couldn't or wouldn't discuss. "I feel like I've been through the ringer."

"Tough meeting?"

"Not so much what I expected." To her questioning eyes, he gave her the gist of it.

"Sex?" Andrea said with a big grin. "What a concept!"

"It's a little intimidating."

"Dad they'll be lining up at the singles bar for you."

"No singles bars. I'm not going for a cheap pick-up."

"Don't tell me you're going to pay for it?"

"No, that's against the rules."

Andrea grinned. "Well, I think there are a couple of old ladies down the street. They might be interested."

"Very funny."

"Well, I figured you might come home stressed out, so I made some comfort food for you. Good old spaghetti."

She made it sound simple, but she had inherited her mother's talent for cooking—and her looks, Andy now noticed. "Andrea you're the greatest!"

They made small talk through dinner, discussing how her first year of college was going. After dinner he cleaned up the kitchen. It was an unmentioned agreement that whoever did the cooking, the other would do the dishes. She went off to take a bath; pretty much their standard evening. Sometimes, she would sit with him after and watch television, other times she would do homework or something else.

No sooner did Andy get comfortable on the sofa than he realized he had to hit the bathroom. Since Andrea was in the hall bathroom, he had to go all the way into his bedroom to use the master bathroom. As he passed the hall bathroom, he saw that the door was not closed tight. It was also quiet in there because she was taking a bath rather than showering. Then he heard the water rippling and some barely audible moaning.

The bathroom was divided into two sections. Where one entered was the wash area with counter and sink. Through another door was the toilet and tub. That door was also ajar a couple or three inches. Andy hesitantly, but curiously—and with a measure of concern—entered the washroom. He remained quiet in case there was nothing wrong. Water movement and throaty sounds were still discernible. He halted at the second door debating whether to peak in. It was wrong for him to violate his daughter's privacy, but another higher pitched utterance clinched the deal.

With some embarrassment, Andy took a deep breath and leaned toward the partially opened door. He didn't want to spy, but at the same time, if nothing was wrong, he didn't want to disturb Andrea. Of all the things he thought he might see, the one possibility that never occurred to him was that she would be masturbating. She was stretched out in the tub, head tilted against the back rim, back arched, causing her—he noticed for the first time—nicely rounded small breasts to rise above the level of the water like a mountainous island in the ocean. One leg was extended and draped over the edge of the tub and the other opened as wide as the tub would allow. One hand was between her legs, the other fondling her breast.

Andy quickly backed away and stealthily exited the bathroom; however, the scene was deeply etched in his mind. In his own bathroom trying his best to erase the image, a myriad of thoughts fought for consideration inside his befuddled brain. She was 19 years old, Andy reminded himself; it should come as no surprise that she had sexual urges. Hopefully, this meant she wasn't getting it anywhere else. Beyond that, he just kept seeing the vision of her beautiful nude body.

When he unzipped his pants to fish out his penis to relieve himself, he had subconsciously realized it, but now he was shocked to find that he had a hard on, and a pretty serious one at that. He silently reprimanded himself. And yet he couldn't help himself from thinking about what he had seen.

A knock on his door brought Andy back to reality. He'd lost the urge, but not the erection. Stuffing it uncomfortably back in, he zipped back up.

"You coming to watch TV, dad?" Andrea called out.

Glancing down at the bulge in his pants, he didn't think he could face his daughter right now. He wasn't sure he could look at her without mentally undressing her. And that was wrong. "No, I think I'm going to turn in early," Andy called back. "I'm drained."

"Oh," she responded through the door. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, just tired."

"Alright. Well, can I come in and tell you goodnight?"

Andy closed his eyes hard. They always hugged and kissed goodnight. How could he deny her that? Reluctantly, he told her to come in. As she stepped over to him he wondered if he had never really paid attention to what she wore to bed, or because of what he had previously observed, he now noticed that she had on the briefest panties and a nearly see-through tank top. Or had he never noticed because she had never dressed like this before?

They went through their goodnight routine and he hoped she couldn't feel his hard on. Andrea could sense his apprehension, and again asked, "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered not too convincingly.

"Dad, don't worry about the sex thing. I have a feeling it's going to find you!"

After she left, Andy brushed his teeth, stripped down to his boxers, and realizing that he really was tired, he slipped into bed. He laid down, but before he could reach over to switch off the lamp, he knew he had to do something about the discomfort of his raging hard on. He got erections regularly, but he couldn't remember having one so massive in a very long time. With a glance toward the door to his room he saw that it was mostly closed, so he pushed his boxers down to his knees, grabbed hold of his cock for a satisfying means to a much needed end.

* * *

Andrea returned to her bedroom intending to catch up on some school reading, but after repeating the same paragraph several times, she abandoned that fruitless task and turned on the small TV. Surfing through all channels two complete times and finding nothing interesting to watch, she switched it off. Of course, she knew that her difficulty in concentrating was because of her concern for her dad.

He was a terrific parent and he had always been there for her. When she was younger, he was always the one to stay home with her if she was sick. Her useless mother always claimed that it was easier for him to get off of work, but as she grew older, that excuse always seemed doubtful. And then, one day, the poor excuse for a wife decided she wanted a divorce. In Andrea's mind, there was nothing her father could have done to cause her mother to want to end their marriage. So it came as no surprise when it was discovered the woman was having an affair.

Her father had done everything in his power to save the marriage, although Andrea could not for the life of her understand why he had wanted to salvage the union. Why would he have wanted to stay with someone who had cheated on him? He'd always told her it was because it was the right thing to do, and she'd accepted that because he gave it as his reason. But the truth was, Andrea could not be so forgiving. She was glad she had been over 18 at the time of divorce so she could choose which parent she wanted to live with. She had hardly spoken with her mother since then. She'd had no need to, nor any desire to. And the few occasions that mother and daughter had spoken had not been very amicable.

Since the divorce, Andrea's father had always been upbeat, as though nothing was ever wrong. Of course, she'd had her doubts. And then, when he came home one day and said he was going to go to group therapy; that told her something was wrong. He had tried to reassure her that there were no problems; he just wanted to hear what other people were doing to move on. Again, she accepted it because he'd said it.

However, tonight, his description of the session told her something she had never considered. It was a sexual issue. Further evidence of this was when he had looked in on her in the bathtub. He probably thought her eyes were closed, but they hadn't been completely. Undoubtedly, he had heard her masturbating and thought something was the matter until he discovered what it was. Like the responsible man he was, once he witnessed what she was doing, he instantly backed off. But the fact was, knowing he had seen her made her orgasm much sweeter. He was a very handsome man, and in her mind, she had imagined him standing there watching her knowing she knew he was watching her.

Andrea was further thrilled when she hugged him goodnight and she felt the brush of his erection against her abdomen. Though it was only a fleeting moment, she was certain it was large, just as she always dreamed it would be. She toyed with the idea of getting herself off again, but had a better idea.

Very quietly, Andrea tiptoed down the hall to her father's bedroom. The door was still ajar as she had left it and his beside lamp was still on. Peeking in, she nearly gasped aloud, less because he was also masturbating, but more because of the size of the cock he held in his hand. His face was set with determined concentration, and his fist was a blur as it flew up and down his shaft. She could tell he was stifling his groans.

Andrea's hand went down her panties to her pussy to finger her clit. But she suddenly stopped when her dad stopped. She quickly backed away fearing he had seen her. However, he emitted a moan of aggravation which suggested he was having no success. A second later, his lamp went off.

Stealing quietly back to her bedroom, Andrea felt bad for her dad. On the other hand, she was quite aroused by the sight of his gorgeous cock. She'd had sex with a couple of guys that she had dated. But they had been young, inexperienced and possessed nothing like what she had just seen. Oh, how she would like to see it again. Better still...

* * *

Much like the Morgans, Nicole and her son had a division of labor. One cooked and the other cleaned up. However, Nick had not yet honed his culinary skills so his mother usually ended up doing that chore. It was just as well, she cleaned up after herself as she prepared meals, so cleaning the kitchen was actually the easier task.

During dinner, Nicole went into greater detail about her group therapy session. She and Nick didn't have a problem discussing sex. However, most of their conversations on the subject had been more generic. Neither had ever questioned the other about their sexual activities. Nicole suspected that her son was somewhat active. He had no doubts his mother was not. She was certain he knew she'd been without for a long time, and that made some of the description of her session a bit uncomfortable.

"So, what are you going to do about that, mom?" Nick wanted to know.

She shrugged. "Not much I can do. I'm not seeing anyone, nor do I know any men I would be comfortable offering myself to. Besides, Dr. Podesta said if you have the opportunity, don't pass it up. I don't think she really meant for everyone to go looking for it."

"I see your point," Nick agreed. "But I also think you're a very attractive woman and I don't think you'd have any problem finding someone—if you only looked." He had tried to convince her a number of times to start dating, but she always claimed she wasn't ready.