Rodney was devastated. He’d expected to be the first male to explore between Matilda’s virgin thighs, let alone deposit sperm near her womb. But she told him that she’d had a fun weekend with another man “on a lark”. Now she was offering him access to “spoiled goods”, at least in his opinion.

Her opening words on returning were unexpected, “What the hell’s the matter with you? Are you gay? I just discover how good sex can be and you don’t want to enjoy me? Get your goddam clothes off and get in bed with me!”

He couldn’t gracefully resist such a direct order so complied. Her hands enlarged him quickly and led him on top of her supine naked body. He had dreamed of sex with her but not this way. She lined up his erection and pulled him in with hands on his hips. It was, he must admit, a delightful pleasure to be there but someone else had been there before him. She began moving in the most pleasurable ways so he had no time to dwell on that thought until his engulfed organ throbbed and pulsed its white cream into her waiting receptacle. It had taken little time.

Matilda berated him for being so quick. She kept him between her thighs until he refilled and repeated the movements so that she could get satisfaction. He was exhausted.

Later she complained some more. Her “partner”, as she put it, of the weekend had given her an orgasm or two every time they had copulated. And that was frequently. She was in need again and wanted it from Rodney. Surely he was as good as the other man had been.

By the next morning, over coffee, he had recovered his wits. He opened with, “Why did you do that? Have intercourse with another man? I am your boyfriend, am I not? Should I not be the one?”

She smiled enigmatically, “Yes, you are my boyfriend but you were too damned slow to recognize my desire. He wasn’t. I’m with you now, so I hope you will appreciate that. By the way, he wasn’t my first and may not be my last. We shall see.”

Rodney was stunned by all these revelations. So much for his male supremacy.