After college, I moved to Albuquerque for grad school in organizational management and human resources. I live far away from my hometown in Maryland, and so I don’t see my parents much, even though my dad and I talk almost daily.

When I do go home, my mom goes on and on asking why I haven’t gotten married yet and how it can be that I don’t even have a boyfriend yet. She says I blew my chance with Cal, who would have been a great husband. And she says now I’m just “married to my work.”

As I sink down into the welcoming bubbles, I can’t help but think she might be right, after all. I gave up love, marriage and a family— at least so far— for my career. And what do I have to show for it? Constant anxiety that I might be canned or replaced.

I think back to that day that Cal and I broke up. We had managed to make it through four years of a long distance relationship in undergrad. But, when I told him I’d been accepted to the University of New Mexico for graduate school, and that it was much more affordable than the equally ranked schools on the East Coast that I’d gotten into, he’d asked me not to go.

“Please,” he’d said, holding my hand as we sat on a park bench— the same one we’d come to as teenagers to make out at dusk before having to head home. His hazel eyes pleaded with me, boring into my soul.

He’d been my first love, my only love. We were home on a break, visiting our families before heading back to school— he had gotten into Harvard Law School. “Please come to Massachusetts with me. We could get married. I’d be able to provide for your every need.”

My heart had jumped at his informal marriage proposal. But then it sunk at the notion that he wanted me to give up my own educational and perhaps professional ambitions to be with him.

Sure, he was from a very wealthy family and was destined to make a lot of his own money after graduation, but, it offended me that he thought I would so easily abandon my own dreams for his. I was not my mother and never would be.

“I’m sorry,” I told him, tears coming to my eyes. “I love you but I also have to do what’s best for me.”

“I understand,” he said. “But maybe we need some time apart. Four years is a long time to wait and it seems there’s no end in sight.”

“In three years we could be living in the same city,” I insisted.

But I knew it was futile. Neither of us knew what the future held. And we did know that statistically people stay in the place where they go to graduate school, because that’s where they make connections and get job offers, and it’s hard to start over somewhere new after building up a life somewhere.

So, in the end, I agreed we would take a break and see how it would go. I thought it was only fair to let him go, since I couldn’t give him what he needed. We made love one last time that night, and it was amazing. So amazing— just like the rest of our relationship was— that I was never able to forget him or truly move on, even though I did end up getting a job in Albuquerque and staying here.

I certainly tried to convince myself that I could move on. But every time a guy asked me out, I felt I would be cheating on Cal, which made no sense since we weren’t together anymore. One time UNM had a joint graduate/ undergraduate formal, where they did a whole Prom queen and king theme like back in high school. My friend Shelly had nominated me for Prom queen and I’d won, having been fairly popular with the human resources crowd—the only ones nerdy enough to participate in such an event.

When I went up on stage to get my crown, the organizers told me that first I had to dance with the Prom King. So I did, and it was awkward. He was really into me but, even though he was handsome and nice enough, all I could think about— as usual— was Cal.

Everyone had started chanting “Kiss, kiss, kiss!” and so he had moved in for the kiss. Cameras flashed and at first I froze because I didn’t want to be mean. Everyone cheered and encouraged me to kiss him back but I pulled away, feeling uncomfortable because I only wanted to be kissing Cal. I’d hopped down from the stage, not even waiting to claim my crown, and I’d run away, with Shelly following after me asking me what was wrong, but I couldn’t even explain it. I knew I should be having a fun time, kissing the Prom King, but I felt empty and sad.

Later, a photo of him leaning in to kiss me made its way to the front page of the student newspaper. It was during the moment I’d frozen and I’d looked quite happy. I stared at the picture for a long time, wondering how I could so successfully portray something to the camera— and the rest of the world— that was so different from what I was feeling.

Happy couple dances the night away at undergrad/grad student gala, the headline read. Obviously whomever published it didn’t stop to do their homework. I really had looked radiant, and so had the Prom King— so I couldn’t fault the photographer for wanting to publish the photo. Yet, I also couldn’t help wanting to go find him and ask him to unpublish it because it didn’t represent the real me and it was the only photo of me that had ever been in a newspaper.

In the end, I’d let it slide, because how could anyone really “unpublish” something that had already made it into circulation? Shelly tried to comfort me by telling me that one day I’d meet my real King and would be truly happy, but in the meantime, at least I had had a good, free photoshoot of myself looking fake happy. She said other girls would kill for that chance and we’d both laughed at it, although I still felt sad inside.

Now, I sink down under the bubbles and think about the fact that I’ve never gotten over Cal. I chose my career over him but then I wasn’t able to choose anyone else. Now, like my mother always feared, I’m getting older and have no one to be with. Just memories of better times.

I let my hand find its way to my clit, which feels aching and throbbing for Cal, just like it always does when I think about him. I’d looked him up on Facebook a few years ago and found out he not only works at one of the biggest law firms in the country but he’d become a named partner in record time. He handles mergers and acquisitions and is very successful, just as I knew he’d be.

I’d even gotten brave enough to friend him on Facebook, but he didn’t accept after two days so I canceled my request, hoping he’d never seen it. If he had, though, I couldn’t blame him. He’d probably moved on and had a girlfriend or wife— hell, even a few kids by now— and in that circumstance it wouldn’t have been appropriate for him to accept my friend request. I didn’t see anything on his page or the Internet in general about having a family or significant other but that didn’t mean he didn’t keep his private life private.

It also doesn’t mean I can’t fantasize about him. My pussy is dripping wet for him, just as it always is. I plunge my finger into it and wish it was his cock. His was the only cock I’ve ever seen or felt or had inside me, but it was very large and he always knew exactly what to do with it when we were together.

I back up against a jet in the tub and let the water hit my pussy, wishing it was Cal’s cock. The vibration and pressure almost make me cum right away but I move forward a little bit, wanting to draw out the moments that Cal and I are together in my mind.

I remember how he used to pick me up and lean me up against the wall while he fucked me standing up. Even though I’ve always been on the bigger side and feel allergic to exercise, he liked to go to the gym to de-stress, and that fact showed on his body. He had washboard abs, ripped pecs, and tattoos all over his strong chest.

He could easily hold me up for a long time while he pushed his cock in and out of me. Then he’d carry me to the bed and command me to get on all fours so he could fuck his dirty girl doggy style. Sometimes he’d even tie me to the bedpost.

Now, as the water shoots out of the jet and onto my pussy and I massage my clit, I remember how one time he tied me up and took me from behind. I surprised myself by enjoying how rough he was being. He pulled my hair, slapped my ass and pushed his cock in and out of me. I feel the sweet release of climax now in the tub as I remember how much he made me cum back then. I was on the Pill and he’d shoot his cum inside me while I myself came all over his cock, just like right now I’m coming all over the waterfall pouring out of the jet.

I feel dizzy with the euphoria of a really good cum. It’s nothing like what I used to have with Cal, but it’s the best I can get now, and maybe for the rest of my life. Even if I find someone who understands how much I love to work, I doubt they’d ever be in good in bed as Cal was.

But at least I have my memories. I lay my head back on the rim of the tub, feeling completely satisfied for the first time in a long time. Even though, tomorrow, I might find out that my job is on the line, as least I got to have an amazing orgasm tonight, thanks to my thoughts of Cal.

 

 

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