An Artist from the Past - Sex Stories

An Artist from the Past

... realize it at the time, but that was the beginning of the end of our relationship. Jerry had money now. He didn't like any feeling of dependence. And he definitely was not monogamous ("an invention of the female side of bourgeois society".) Jerry started bringing home partners almost every night—even when I was away on business.

Several months later, he told me, after fucking the shit out of me for nearly an hour, that he was moving out. He had enough money and wanted some "independence."

I didn't protest. I knew it was coming. We had a few dates after he moved out the following week, but we started drifting apart.

My gallery gave him two more shows. They were both successful. And I bought three of the paintings. He never did paint me.

A few years later, I married again, and we now have two kids. She's well-educated, beautiful and a very good mother to our two boys—now both in school. I had always wanted kids, and these two boys became my life. We are happy, and we typically find occasion to have sex a few times a week, maybe a little more often when we take winter Caribbean vacations. We moved to the burbs. I sold the gallery for an enormous price—to a developer who was going to combine it with other properties and build a mid-rise condo. And ultimately I became CEO of the start-up I had joined many years before.

About this time, my wife convinced me I needed another intellectual track in my life, and at her suggestion, I enrolled in PhD studies. A few years ...

... later it was Dr. MacIntosh. I had enough money. So I quit my CEO job, took a golden parachute and signed on as an Assistant Prof at a southern university. Julie and the kids moved with me. But our lives were never the same again. Our marriage had simply fizzled out. We had occasional sex, but I'm pretty sure that she knew I wasn't there. I was pretty sure she knew I was bi and that I had occasional guys, but she never mentioned a word. We stayed together for the kids.

I never seduced one of my students. That was an absolute NO. But there were three universities in our town, and through social media, I signed on to "tutor" athletes at the other schools—mostly test prep and assistance with term papers. More than a few paid me with a willing or semi-reluctant fuck on my office sofa. Oh the wonders of "transactional" sex with a new generation!

I continued to follow Jerry's career, but not too closely. I was busy and very happy in academe, often hosting students (not mine) on my couch. Jerry moved to Miami after a few years, seduced by a big international gallery with a large foreign clientele (which apparently was much less squeamish than Americans were with male full-frontal nudity, orgies and vivid portrayals of foreplay and intercourse.

Then it was Berlin. I knew he was a success in Europe, but didn't have the details. A few years later, I heard he had married and was living in California with an heiress. I had to assume she had either tamed him or permitted him to ...