I began to kiss the upper portion of her breasts,
alternating between each one, careful to avoid her nipples which
looked like they might burst at any second. Meanwhile, my hands
had pushed Lisa’s shorts below her knees and they fell to the
floor. She quickly stepped out of them.

My hands, now free to roam where they would began to
lightly explore everything within reach while my mouth continued
to teasingly caress Lisa’s lovely tits. Her own hands came up
and cupped her swollen globes from underneath, offering the erect
tips for my oral inspection. Not wanting to frustrate her more
than was necessary, I accepted her offer.

Mouth, tongue, light nips with the inscisors, gentle
squeezing from my hands, I worked on her breasts for several
minutes until I felt Lisa take my head in her hands and pull me
back up.

I worked my hands down under the waistband of her
shorts and discovered that she was wearing no panties. I cupped
her ass cheeks, enjoying the firm, yet feminine texture. Her ass
muscles clenched and unclenched as she ground herself against my
erection which was almost painfully trapped inside my jeans.

Pulling my mouth away from hers, I began to kiss her
face lightly and then her neck, gradually moving down to her
upper chest just to the point where her breasts began to slope
outward. She moaned with anticipation. My hands also moved
lower, taking her shorts down with them — but slowly, teasingly.

I found the tie at the back of her halter top and
untied it. She backed away and allowed it to fall to the floor
in front of her, barring her breasts to me for the first time. I
moaned with lust at their beauty. This was no frustrated
anorexic exercise freak. This was a healthy adult woman who
respected her body enough to take care of it and who also had a
great body to begin with.

Her breasts were perfect. They projected straight out
from her chest without any hint of sag. While obviously well
supported by underlying muscle, they were not the breasts of a
body builder. Her light brown areolae were capped with nipples
which stood out from the surrounding flesh like the tips of small
fingers.

She allowed my inspection to continue for a few
moments, and then, “My turn,” she said, pulling my t-shirt out of
my jeans and over my head. We embraced once more, each gasping
as our flesh met skin to skin for the first time. Her nipples,
hardened with arousal, dug into my flesh like two points of
flame. We kissed again and my hands were all over her back,
stroking, kneading, caressing.

“What about you?”

“Lisa, if you’re serious about going through with this
reward thing, you’ll be the second woman to whom I’ve made love
in my lifetime, and since I outgrew masturbation about the same
time my voice changed for good, I’d say that I’m in about the
same shape as you.”

“Good. Now, give me that bag and I’ll show you
inside.”

She gave me a quick tour of the place, ending back in
the living room. The mid afternoon sun was shining through the
pine trees making dancing patterns on the living room floor.
Lisa was holding both of my hands in hers and we were facing each
other in front of the fire place. By mutual consent and without
words we moved together. My arms went around her waist and hers
went around mine. Our mouths met in a light kiss — just lip
contact. Her perfume, light and sweet but not overpowering, came
up to greet me.

“You smell delicious,” I murmured into her ear.

“You smell like a man. A man that I very much want to
make love to right now.”

Our mouths met again and this time we held the kiss,
our tongues beginning to dance with one another, probing,
piercing, licking. Our bodies pressed together. I could feel
her breasts pressing against me. I know she had to be able to
feel my erect member pressing against her.

The kiss finally broke. She disengaged herself from my
embrace and began to walk out of the room. I followed. Within
moments we were in the master suite, standing by the king size
bed, embracing once more.

I laughed. She hadn’t been kidding. I threw some
things into a duffle bag and headed for the lake.

It was a beautiful drive. Early June in our part of
the world can either be great or horrible. This had been a great
June so far and it promised to be a great weekend to be at the
lake. I couldn’t have cared less about the weather, though,
since I planned on spending most of my time indoors.

I was a little nervous. I hadn’t been intimate with a
woman other than my wife since 1973 and she was the only one with
whom I had ever had sexual intercourse. I may not have been very
relatable, but I was definitely monogomous. So, I didn’t know
how things were going to go, and I really wanted to please Lisa.

Following the instructions on the back of the map, I
soon found my way up the long winding drive to the top of the
hill overlooking the lake where Lisa’s “cabin” was. Some cabin.
Three bedrooms, including a master suite with a jacuzzi on a deck
overlooking the lake. Big living room with a field stone fire
place. Lots of comfortable looking furniture and hardwood
floors. Lots of glass facing the lake. Large boathouse with
what appears to be living quarters above. Space for two or three
boats. One, a large inboard is tied up to the dock.

Lisa came out to meet me when I pulled up to the car
port. She looked great in a pair of shorts and a halter top. A
five foot nine inch vision of firm, healthy flesh topped with
that beautiful brown hair (you can have your blondes — I’ll
take brunettes every time).

“You made it! I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

She ran over to my side of the car and grabbed me in a
big hug as soon as I got out.

“Who could resist an invitation like that? Of course I
came.”

“I’m glad. This has been a long six months for me.”

“Oh? Why?”

“While you’ve been dieting and exercising, I’ve been
completely celibate. I haven’t even masturbated.”

I was a little startled by this admission, masturbation
not usually being a subject I discuss with women.

Believe it or not, after the first few sessions, I
began to enjoy the aerobics workouts for their own sake, rather
than just because I thought I might get into the instructor’s
pants. Over the three month period we occasionally went out for
coffee after a workout session, but the subject of her cabin in
the woods and what we might do there did not come up for further
discussion.

That’s why I was kind of surprised when I opened my
mail today. There was a card with a note inside and a map. The
note said “Every Good Boy Deserves A Favor” (which also happens
to be the title of my favorite ‘Moody Blues’ album) and it was
signed “Your Breathless With Anticipation Aerobics Instructor”.
The map showed the route to a lake near the city where I live.
There were written instructions on the back of the map.

Incentive? This had to be it. I agreed to her terms.
Hell, even if I didn’t end up making love to her, I would be in
somewhat better shape then I was right now. But it was going to
be a long six months.

“You do need to get into shape, and not just so you’ll
be some sexy middle aged stud either,” she laughed, taking the
sting out of the jibe, “but for your health. And, by the way,
being in shape will make you a better lover to boot. So, here’s
what I’m proposing. You attend my class regularly — but don’t
try to keep up with everyone, just go your own pace — and do
something about your food intake, and I think you’ll start to see
some results. It might help to do nautilus along with the
aerobics to shape your body a little as you take the weight off.
Now, the good part. I am confident that if you work at it, you
can get to where you want to be, physically, in about six months.

Between now and then, we’ll keep meeting for coffee and getting
to know one another a little better. If you’ve been faithful to
the physical regime for six months and make your goal weight (I
had told her it was 200 lbs even) you and I will spend a weekend
at a cabin I inherited from my grandparents. It’s in a very
secluded location on a beautiful lake not far from here.”

I was flattered to say the least. My self esteem was
growing by leaps and bounds. But I was waiting for the other
shoe to drop. No, sir. This wasn’t going to be happening the
way it looked. No beautiful female like the one sitting across
the table was going to get the hots for me all of a sudden.

And
even if she did, I was sure that it would be a short
relationship, particularly when she got a load of my lack of
staying power — though if she liked getting head, it might make
up for it — I’m very good at that.

“But, (here it comes, I thought) there’s a catch.”

“I knew it.”

“Some women are turned on by a man’s personality,
believe it or not, and can even overlook some pretty major
physical flaws. Ever wonder why Christie Brinkley married Billy
Joel?”

“So, are you trying to tell me that I turn you on,
somehow, right now even though I look more like Dom Deluise than
Burt Reynolds?”

“Not quite. But my sister and I are a lot alike. I
think that if I spent some time with you, I could become very
attracted to you. One thing you should realize is that a lot of
those blow dried body building types are so stuck on themselves
that they make lousy lovers. Other kinds of guys, more like you,
are more attentive to their partner’s needs and can actually be
more satisfying sexually.”

“I’m a little confused.” Wow, what a master of
understatement.

She smiled. I’m sure that I was red as a beet. I was
embarassed and very close to getting angry with her. If this was
some sort of elaborate tease, it was a cruel one for sure.

“That’s true enough. Most men are. Tell me, how long
has it been since you felt attractive?”

Well. That certainly caught me by surprise. To be
honest, I don’t know if I’ve ever felt attractive. Not
physically anyway.

Growing up I had some real conflicting needs
- – the need for attention, yet wanting to blend in to the
background. I wanted people to be close to, but I wouldn’t let
them in. That’s probably why my marriage failed – - my wife could
never get inside of my head because I wouldn’t let her. Some
sort of trust thing. Well, anyway, I had to come up with some
sort of answer….

“So, what would you consider a good reason for me to
take your class?”

“Because you want to sleep with the instructor.”

She said it with a straight face. I’m sure my chin
dropped all the way to my chest before I recovered my composure.
I started to laugh, thinking that she was joking, and was cut off
in mid gufaw by the serious look on her face.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. There’s only one way you’re going to get
through this class, John, and I’m telling you what it is. You’re
going to have to believe that when it’s all over, there’s going
to be a reward.”

“Sure. Sounds great. I’ll meet you in the lobby in 15
minutes.”

Cut to a Perkins. Any Perkins. They all look pretty
much the same. A freshly showered couple sits in a booth at the
back of the resturant. Small talk ensues.

“You said you knew why I took your class,” I said, by
way of transition to the real reason we were here, “What did you
mean by that?”

“You’re trying to prove something to yourself. Recover
your lost manhood. Go back to the time when you were young and
in shape. You felt better then. You want to recapture that.”

“I’ve lost my manhood, eh? What makes you think so?”

“I know who you are. My sister took a college course
from you once, which may explain why you said I look familiar to
you, though you couldn’t place me. I know a little bit about
what’s been going on in your life. Your divorce, for instance.”

If you’ll recall, I said at the top that I was 40. An
18 year marriage collapsed under me a year earlier. My fault –
I never dealt with my father’s alcoholism and its effects on me.
Denial was a way of life. I became more and more unrelatable to
my wife and my two kids. Alcohol is only one escape from life.

There are many others. Food was one of mine. My divorce was a
real wake up call. I nearly lost my job and everything else in
my life without dealing with my problems, but when I lost my
family, well, that was something that really got to me.

I got into therapy and began to deal with all the
things going on inside my head. But I still wasn’t into
relationships. Too many wounds, many self inflicted, had left my
heart encased in some pretty tough scar tissue. That’s why I
hesitated a little before saying yes to Lisa’s invitation.