Rainbow Enterprise

By Faye Rothstein

The adventures of two young women, footloose and fancy free.
On a journey, looking for love. How one finds that dreams do come true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 14, 2012
• ISBN: 9781479758784

Faye Rothstein

A senior citizen with a stock pile of memory who has lived a very diverse and interesting life. Miss Rothstein write on many different and vary subject, taken from her own experiences. A very unique author who writes from the heart. A resident of Media Pa, Ms. Rothstein is an accomplish speaker and a prolific fund raiser for her mental health causes. She’s on the board of AJMI-TIKVAH residents, that houses eight mentally affected young men and women; her son among them. She is a count on person.

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Copyright © 2012 by FAYE ROTHSTEIN.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

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CONTENTS

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII

Chapter VIII

Chapter IX

Chapter X

Chapter XI

Chapter XII

I dedicate this book to all fun-loving people in the world.

CHAPTER I

I am a young woman. I married at a very young age. When I think about it now, I realize my hormones were raging, and I was ready for sex. My boyfriend and I used to make out a little after a date. But this was progressively not enough for me. When he asked me to marry, I said yes. We had a small wedding. After which, we went directly to our honeymoon lodge. The train ride was long. The wedding was a strain, as neither of our families thought we were ready. Then taxiing to our honeymoon lodge was exhausting. We both fell asleep and woke later in the evening.

My husband seemed a little shy about sex, but I thought we would learn together. It made me happy to know that I was a good girl and waited for marriage. I was not very experienced in life, as I went directly from my parents’ home to him. On our first encounter, I climaxed immediately, as did he. We both laughed. We enjoyed the facilities and met other honeymooners. Everyone was happy and vacationing. There was much to do, and we did it. Sex was not perfect, but I enjoyed it. We stayed for six days and returned home.

I was a smiling, happy individual and tried to make the best of all things. My husband worked in an actuary office, as he was marvelous with numbers. I was proud of him. He was ten years older than me. I soon realized that it was I who initiated our love life. It was I who would put my arms around him. It was I who had the burning desire. I would always be the first to reach out to him. He never seemed in the mood, and when he was, it was quick and unsatisfactory for me. I saw my parents were so happy and always hugging and kissing. I knew no other way. This went on for a year. He would never want to discuss anything. He was generous to a point of disbelief.

We soon bought a beautiful home in a very expensive neighborhood. This made me ecstatic, but the sex was destroying me. I was able to shop for furniture or anything to make a beautiful home. He gave me a generous allowance. He never questioned me about cost. I should have been happy, but I wasn’t. Something was missing. Just not even the sex. I heard from other neighbors how chintzy their husbands were. No matter, they still acted as though everything else was good. I felt a need to talk—a need to maybe see a psychiatrist. I did not want my husband to know of this, as I knew he would disapprove. I went anyway.

On my first visit, he told me it was a husband duty to pleasure his wife. He went on making me talk about my frustrations. I was getting everything out. I began to feel cleansed. On one of my visits, he said, You know some marriages just can’t be saved. Yours seems to be one of them. You’re lucky you do not have children. This was a subject we never seemed to talk about.

That night, I asked my husband how come I have not gotten pregnant in all this time. He replied he had a vasectomy years ago. I screamed, How come you never told me! Why did you marry me if you don’t want children? You are not a nice person, and I hate you! He sat up in bed and took me in his arms and said, You are right. I should have told you, but I was afraid you wouldn’t marry me. You see, you are so young and innocent. I just had to have you for my own. I have tried to have the operation reversed, but to no avail. The doctors told me it was no use. I could never father a child. He began to cry and said he was so sorry he has disappointed me so. But he would try harder. He began to stroke me and tell me not to cry. He said, You are enough for me. This soothed me, and we began to have sex. It was again not what I wanted. He was soon done and turned over. I pulled him back and said, You said you would try. What happened? Please help me and let me have a climax. I was rubbing myself against his knee when I finally came. He said, Satisfied? and turned over again.

I felt humiliated and thought this is it. I would have to divorce this man. I could not live with him any longer. I drifted off to sleep with these thoughts in my mind. I could just imagine what my mother would say. My dad would say, I’m disappointed in you, dear. A man is the head of the family, and you should be there for him, like your mother is for me. I slept fitfully. I tossed and turned. One minute I was cold and bunched up the covers around me. The next minute I was hot and was throwing the covers off. I woke early and dressed. I put the coffeepot on and waited for my husband to come down for breakfast. He was sullen, and he didn’t speak a word. I said good morning, but he did not answer. He ate in silence, and when he finished, he went to work and left me there alone, without a good-bye or thank-you. I couldn’t believe this behavior. I was at my wit’s end as to what to do. I went shopping to try to relieve some of the frustration.

He returned that late afternoon with a smile on his face. He had with him a gorgeous necklace. He said, Let me put it on for you. You know I love you. I said nothing, no thank-you, nothing. I began to walk in the kitchen, and he followed me. He noticed I had not done the breakfast dishes, and he said, Here, let me help you. This amazed me. I thought there is always a first time for everything. I prepared dinner, and we ate in silence. He retreated to his den. Promptly at ten o’clock, he came out, locked the door, came into the living room, and said, Are you coming to bed? That night, we again had sex. I was as cold as stone. I expected nothing, and I gave nothing. I was like a zombie.

As I lay in bed, the tears began to roll down my cheeks. My husband had turned over and was sound asleep. He had had his release, his climax. He was done. I lay there frustrated, to a point of hysteria. What is this ritual they call sex doing to me! My body is screaming for something different, something more. I went to a gyn doctor and told him my predicament. He wrote down on the clipboard of papers, frigid. He said, Let me help you, and started to put his finger on my clitoris. I was shocked beyond belief. I sat up and said, No thanks, Doc. I can do that myself. I left his office, never to return. I cried all the way home. I am not frigid. I want sex, just a little more. Is that so terrible? I was young and healthy. I read books and knew there was more to it. I just didn’t know what to do—how to set a fire that would not go out so quickly. He was satisfied always. That seemed to be the end of it. How do you turn off the fire that seemed to constantly burn in me? I did not know how. I seemed to be at loose ends most of the time. I thought about going to work, but what could I do? There seemed to be no answer for my unhappiness. I just did not know what to do.

One night, we went to a friend’s house, and he showed a pornographic film. This excited me to a point of ecstasy. You could see my husband was physically aroused as well. I am sure we both could not wait to get home. I was praying he would catch on and suggest some of the positions we saw. They showed a man going down on his woman, and she going down on him, yet not enough for either of them to climax. Every so often, they would change positions until neither of them could hold out any longer. There was much moaning and groaning. They spoke to each other during this acrobatic endeavor. It was quite a film (my first).

I don’t know what is wrong with my man, but he would not try anything we saw. He was done in three minutes. I swore this night that I was through with this humiliation. I told him so. He just turned over and said good night like he didn’t hear a word I said.

The next morning, I went to the spa as usual. I always enjoyed this pastime, as there were men and women there—people to talk to, to even flirt a little bit. I was a fair-looking gal with a great body. This blond Adonis who always seemed to be waiting for me to arrive finally spoke up and said, You know that you are the only reason I keep coming to this place. Move over. I want to talk to you. He said, I dream about you all the time. I said, Hey, I am a married woman. He replied, I am a married man with a family. I am not asking you to marry me. I am not satisfied at home. I need some good, passionate sex, lovemaking. Just one time, that’s all I’m asking for. I could hardly breathe. I said, Let me think about it. If I am here tomorrow, I am willing. Then we both got in the water. I couldn’t believe what just happened. I felt like I was taking part in a movie. We swam to the end of the pool. He then spoke and said, Don’t worry.

That night, I asked my husband if we could talk, and he agreed. We sat down at the kitchen table, and he asked what the problem was. I told him that I was not enjoying sex with him. I tried to explain that women and men were different. Women need more foreplay and after play; otherwise, she feels like a receptacle for his semen. I tried to explain and ask him to remember the film we saw at our friend’s house. Why would he not let me go down on him, or he on me? He replied, That stuff is only for whores or prostitutes. I began to cry, as he had an answer for everything I said. I begged him to go to a doctor to find out why he prematurely ejaculated. He said, Honey, there is nothing wrong with me. I think you should see a doctor to find out what is troubling you. I don’t particularly like sex. But it is something married people do. I was so wiped out, I shouted, If you don’t like it, let’s not do it. I don’t particularly like it either. He said, Fine with me. I always thought I was doing it for you. He went upstairs, and I went out for a ride.

I finally fell asleep around 2:00 a.m. with thoughts of the morning and the spa. There he was, waiting for me. My knees felt like they would buckle and my chest would explode. As I entered the pool steps, I looked at him. He had a grin on his face from ear to ear. He advised me to take a swim so that no one would be the wiser. He was going up to shower and would wait for me outside the spa in the parking lot. I swam very slowly and had thoughts of the film we saw that night. I wondered what it would be like. I could hardly wait. I finally left to shower and dress. I had on my most seductive undergarments. I felt so pretty and nervous. What if I couldn’t climax? What if—? I decided not to think about it anymore and hurried to my blond Adonis.

I got in his car just as if I had done it many times before. We talked like old friends, and he never mentioned the sex act. We drove for a while until he found a suitable motel. He told me to wait in the car until he returned; he would take care of everything. This was just like those romance novels everybody reads. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I felt a little ashamed and wanted to back out. He then got in the car and drove to a cabin he had rented for four hours. I told him how I felt, and he said, Sweetheart, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Let’s just go in and talk about our lives. I agreed.

When we got in the room, he said, Just take off your top clothes so they don’t get wrinkled, just as casual as could be. I knew he was experienced. We’ll just lie in the bed and talk. After a while, he started kissing me, gently at first and then with much more vigor. His hands were roaming over my body. Chills were going up and down my spine, new sensations that I have never felt in bed. He removed his underpants and then mine. I was ready; my body ached. He then told me he was diabetic, and it would take a little time before he could do anything; but all the while, he never left my breast alone. The nipples were as hard as rocks, and his tongue played unmercifully with them. I started moaning, and he said, Good baby.

He kept it up. I couldn’t believe we were talking to each other, saying how good this felt or just a little to the side. I was breathing heavily when he started to put his penis in. It was soft, but he worked it and kept pushing it in with his finger to get it in. He told me he just wanted to dip it for a while. He started to gently push against me. My legs began to quiver, and my back began to arch. I realized that I had just had a small climax. I told him so, and he said, Good for you, sweetheart, as he continued to gently push. I again began to quiver, and my back arched as I gently had another and another climax. He again continued as I began to feel his penis grow in me. He grabbed my buttocks and thrust hard. He moaned and said, I knew you would be good for me. Say you love me. A few more thrusts, and he removed himself from me.

He gently turned his body and began to push my legs apart. Before I knew what was happening, his tongue was working on my private parts, and he asked me to do the same for him. Oh my, I have never felt such bliss. I could not continue on him, as I felt I was really going to climax. He gently pulled away from me and said, Not yet, my love. He asked me to lie flat on the bed and let him look at my body as he caressed me all over. He worked my nipples again until I moaned with passion and desire. He gently pushed me to the side of the bed and asked me to lie on the edge with my knees on the floor, stomach down. He then put his body across mine and roughly inserted that man-sized rigid instrument of pleasure into my vagina. How he managed it, I don’t know, but the explosion that occurred was something I had been looking for. I then begged him to stop, but he was in control, and he continued until I moaned with pleasure, and he went limp and kissed me and kissed me. He thanked me and kissed me, gentle kisses, and thanked me again. We fell apart on the floor. He helped me up to the bed, and he lay next to me, caressing me and touching me all over until we fell asleep. This is what I had been looking for all those years with my husband.

I awoke before him. I looked at the clock. We had been at it for three hours. I could not get over this. He awoke with a start and said, We have to shower and dress and do it in less than an hour. Then we’ll go get a bite to eat. You know I’m diabetic and must eat after I do strenuous exercise. We both laughed, and he grabbed me by my butt and laid me out on the bed and looked over me and said, Was it good, my girl? Did I do you justice? I smiled and confessed that it was the best I’d ever had. He smiled and dragged me into the shower. We washed each other, and I could tell he would have gone at it again, but the time was getting late. We both had to report home so there would be no suspicion.

CHAPTER II

At dinner that night, he asked me about my day. I thought I would choke on my food. I felt guilty and thought something showed on me. When he looked at me, I thought he could see right through me. I could feel the blood rush to my face. He continued eating as any normal day, but I felt anything but normal.

While doing the dishes, I began to calm down. I began to think about the day. I started thinking how I felt in his arms. I talked to myself about the pros and cons of having an affair with this man. Then I began laughing. I laughed and laughed. Then without knowing, I heard my own voice saying, You fool, how do you know he would even want to have an affair? We went to sleep that night with no urgency or desire on either side of the bed.

I awoke later than usual. My husband had gone to work without waking me. All I could think of was my day before, my wonderful, ecstatic day with my golden Adonis. I thought about every little thing he did to pleasure me, and the feeling began to rise in me again. I just couldn’t contain myself and had to pleasure myself alone, as I had been doing all along.

Now I had a problem. Should I go to the spa and see if he would be there? Should I stay away and let it die a natural course? The latter choice actually made me ill. When I thought about it, my stomach rolled, and I thought I would puke or faint. I had no choice. I began to dress and prayed that he would be there and want to see me again. I remembered I had an appointment with a friend for a drink. I called her and told her I was not feeling well. The thought ran through my mind that I would never feel better until I saw him again. Wonder of wonders, there he was, grinning like a Cheshire cat. It was so difficult not to just run into his arms. Instead, I just walked slowly into the pool. He smiled and said, Hi, hon, as natural as could be.

We met again in the parking lot and drove off to our paradise. This time, there was no urgency, as he seemed to want to talk, and he started questioning me as to my other lovers. When I replied that he was the only one, he didn’t believe me and said, Anyone who likes sex as much as I do could never be satisfied by one man. I told him he was