It was a hard relationship to describe. They had a lot in common – both were professionals working full time, both married, both having two children. But much of the similarities ended there, one was female, and a delightful one at that, but more on this later, the other male. Although they worked together they lived far apart. Since neither one could bear to hurt another their “romance” was not the textbook-type. Sandy and Jim sort of recognized that their lives were previously taken, but they still had a deep attraction and affection for each other. They enjoyed being together, whenever they could manage it, for the office wags would have a field day if their “relationship”, no matter how chaste, became public knowledge.
For a long time now Jim had been “romancing” Sandy with notes of undying affection and love and Sandy had been receiving the verbal love and affection [ ...continue reading "The Birthday Present" ]
What’s in a picture? Well, in the picture I cherish there is more joy and peace and love than any mere mortal like me should ever know. The picture I am speaking of is the imperfect image of the one I love. She is one of such exceedingly great beauty that it cannot be captured on anything by Man’s hand, but to me it represents her, and that is as near to heaven as I am likely to get.
But the picture, besides being an imperfect symbol of utter perfection, is exceedingly cloudy. The incidental fact that this exquisite creature of God does not love me, but another, sheds blazing insight into my dilemma – loving one who does not love you back – an age-old poignant story.
This is what happens to one who falls in love with a wonderful, happily married woman. First, there are the moments of exquisite joy [ ...continue reading "The Picture" ]
It had been many months since the enforce split up of Sandy and Jim. True they had seen each other for a few moments here and there and even shared lunch, such as it was, alone together at a nearby picnic table. But there was always something lurking in the background. Sandy was constantly concerned about being seen by the wrong people and Jim was afraid that Sandy would eventually have her fill of him. Their “affair” (a poor descriptive word with unfortunate connotations as the relationship they had could only be portrayed in words of beauty) was an unequal thing. Sandy enjoyed the affections and attentions of Jim, but her real and true love was still her husband and Jim was totally and heartily in love with Sandy (a fact she could never conceive of as he still professed to love his wife, but she could never truly fathom [ ...continue reading "Picnic in the Rain" ]
I have always had an interest in photography that went beyond the enjoyment of looking at nude pictures in Playboy. So last fall, I decided to take a course offered through the community college in photography. We did a number of different subjects in the course and one of the outside assignments was to do a series on a human subject. I talked Nancy, a gorgeous brunette that works with me into being my model. At work, I’m known as a kind and quiet man who is “safe” but not particularly exciting. I have never been very aggressive with woman and am sort of plain looking. Nancy knew that she was safe and that all I wanted were some nice pictures. She agreed after I promised that she could have copies. She wore a blue evening dress and had her hair styled specially (also an expense I absorbed) for the [ ...continue reading "Part 1 "Photographer"" ]
After my last adventure, I realized that I wouldn’t be happy unless I did some more nude photographs. Christine was still around work but hadn’t shown any interest (I was to timid to ask her). I decided that I didn’t want to risk approaching anyone at work since I wanted to keep my little hobby a secret. I decided to place an ad in the classified section of our local paper. I kept the ad vague saying that I wanted models for figure and glamor work. I had them respond to a post office box so I could retain my anonymity. I ran the ad for one week and sat back and waited for the responses to come in.
At the end of the week, I went to the post office to see the response. [ ...continue reading "Part 2 "Photographer"" ]