Happy New Year - Sex Stories

Happy New Year

... scotch. I poured her a smaller measure than that which I had given myself, and asked if she wanted any water. She shuddered and told me that she referred it straight, and that good scotch does not need diluting. There was something in her eye when she said that which resonated with me, but the moment passed. I hadn’t seen her before that evening and must have missed her earlier in the evening. I told her this, and she replied that she had only just arrived, but as most of the rest of the party seemed occupied on the dance floor, she thought she’d get a drink to start with. She told me that she wasn’t really going to come, but as the evening wore on, she had got so bored with her own company that she thought anything had to be better. She is frank, I thought, and we started talking. She was called Georgie, which was funny as my name is George, and we giggled about that, and whether our hosts had made a mistake in asking two Georges. It turned out that she was three years from a very nasty divorce, and though I didn’t ask for details, I got them. She told me that her ex-husband had been a very successful banker, and their life had been wonderful, apart from finding that he was not exactly impotent, in fact far from it, but he “fired blanks as she put it. They had travelled extensively, ate at the best restaurants, and had a lovely house in the better part of Surrey. After finding that they couldn’t have children, she had continued working, and was now a partner in a major ...

... valuation and auction house in London. Their work had often got in the way of finding enough time to be together, and they had drifted, not exactly apart, but just not gone forward. It was when she had found out by accident that he had a mistress in London, and had had her for many years, set up in a luxury apartment in the Barbican. They had been together in that way for years, many years before the discovery of their inability to have children. It was this that brought the matter to a head, if it had been as a result of their disappointment, she might have understood better, but as it was, he was a simple double-timer. Well, actually, she said, as the divorce proceedings unfolded, it wasn’t double, or even treble, for the previous twenty years he had set up four mistresses in various major financial centres. Now it was my turn, and I described my life, my job initially as a teacher of biology, and then my change of careers to be in medicine proper, and my rise to be a senior consultant in Oncology. I then told her about the twist of fate that happened when my wife, a teacher of history, was diagnosed with a particularly aggressive form of breast cancer, which I was unable to stop. I had felt so useless, unable to cure the woman I loved and had grown together with, and had children with. She asked me how long it had been, and nodded when I replied that it was nearly five years. There was a silence. Neither of us wanted to break it, it was just appropriate as if we were honouring ...