The Geologist
The Geologist: “The Geologist is away at the moment in some godforsaken place with gold mines and warring tribes of wild men. The music teacher worries for him sometimes in these places, not just for his physical safety but for his health and happiness. He returns from the field changed, withdrawn, at times, unrecognizable. There is so much about him and his life that is foreign to her. She loves the Indiana Jones mythology surrounding him, and she loves him for who he is and what he brings to her life.
She met him last August at the start of her journey. She’d just joined the adult dating site with the tag ‘Living a life worth writing about’ and he’d sent an email congratulating her on having a worthy goal and offered his assistance. Theirs was a courtship of the mind, a heady aphrodisiac and a welcome change from the parade of erections and facile invitations she found in her inbox on a regular basis.
She’d been on a few dates, mostly with businessmen looking for a Brisbane fuck on their regular visits but none had captured her heart or her imagination, so although the Geologist didn’t match her physical ideal, everything else was falling into place. He wanted a mistress, a woman who enjoyed sex, to spice up his life married to a woman he loves but who doesn’t match his libido or desire.
They met in the city at a restaurant on the river for their first date. She dressed to the nines, he was casual. She smiled with recognition as she approached the meeting place and saw his chest rise with a deep breath when he saw her. She kissed him on the lips. They looked at each other and smiled. Then he took her hand and they walked talking quietly with the intimacy of familiar lovers into the restaurant.
I watched from afar at this stage from the analytical corner of her mind. She was looking for someone to take her second cherry, to be the first lover she’d had since she met her husband nearly seventeen years before. She needed confidence, sensuality and gentleness and the Geologist seemed like a good choice in my opinion. He wasn’t full of himself, not a predator, attentive and interested in her mind as well as her body. Towards the end of the night he admitted to already being a little in love with her so when he asked about the hotel room she said yes. When they kissed goodbye his hand stroked her bottom and discovered that she wasn’t wearing underwear as she’d promised. She smiled at the astonished look on his face and said ‘goodnight’ leaving him stunned in the moonlight.
Their first night together was magical. Her husband drove her to the hotel and the Geologist met her when she arrived. They walked in together holding hands and caught the elevator to the third floor. Inside the room they kissed a timeless kiss and he caressed her slowly and gently causing her to tremble and shake. He undressed her unhurriedly taking time to enjoy her before laying her down on the bed. His lovemaking was a revelation to her in its tenderness and I was content to watch for a time to see that we’d chosen our ‘second cherry man’ well. He spent hours holding her on the brink, employing his sensual, scientific mind to devise ways of playing with her, brushing her nipples, kissing her, licking her sucking her while he observed until she could bear it no longer and he permitted release.
They ate cheese cut with his pocket knife, smoked salmon (how do you say that without it sounding peculiar) and bread, and drank wine while they talked. He fed her wine from his mouth and she squirmed with delight. It was then I joined them pushing her to push him all night. We woke him every couple of hours until their still pulsating bodies were revealed by dawn’s light. She’d been transformed. She knew who she was and she was conscious of my presence.
Her husband picked her up and took her home to make love to her, re-estabishing their connection after her first night with another man. It had enriched them both.
The Geologist’s first trip away was two days later. He was gone three weeks and she wrote to him every day becoming frustrated and angry at his lack of response.
Since then she has learned the art of friendship with an absent man.
Expect less, live in the moment, accept what is.
They have a relaxed and easy friendship now with a deeper sense of trust that allows them to be more open. He has learned to accommodate her need for contact with occasional chats and emails. She respects his need for space and focus. They have learned the gentle balance that allows them to remain lovers.
He still makes her tremble. She still makes him smile.
“
