Chapter 1

Free falling that's what I used to call it. It was me, full of stress, sadness and grieving, sitting on a bench in Central Park and meditating until I felt relaxed, then walking aimlessly through the park not caring about which direction, or how long, I took. I'm an old man now, but I remember that year, long ago, when I first started free falling. It was autumn, 1976, I was forty years old, and I was lonely. Let me tell you how it all started:

The air was cold and it took some time to relax and meditate deeply. When my mood was right I rose from the park bench and walked down a path that I had not used before. After walking for about ten minutes, I came to a fountain at the intersection of my path and another path that crossed it at right angles.

Fountain water sprayed from a central tube that shaped the water like an umbrella, from there, it fell in to a large irregular dish, overflowing from this dish the water cascaded down two more levels in to a large pond. It would have been a spectacular sight in sunshine but in the subdued light of an autumn dawning, it was simply pleasant to watch. Fountains do something to me and I stopped when I was the right distance away and that distance was where I could see the whole of the fountain and hear the splashing water.

In my languid state, I was mentally floating when I felt rather than heard somebody next to me. I glanced sideways and our eyes met. She smiled and I smiled gesturing at the fountain looking for the right words to say but none came.

She was in shorts with a thin top and she wore running shoes, her light brown hair tied in a ponytail, her neck long and elegant. She was absorbed in the sights and sounds of the fountain, just as I had been moments before.

"It's beyond description isn't it?" She remarked, smiling at my lack of words.

"Well you heard how many words I could conjure up."

She laughed a little and I wondered if she too was free falling.

"Do you come here for relaxation or for the exercise?" I asked.

"Oh... Both! It seems that I need vigorous exercise to get rid of my tensions."

"You work under pressure?" I struggled searching for more words, hoping to delay her departure.

She was not beautiful but she obviously kept in shape, her body was angular not curved in the way I prefer my women. Her face was red and sweat lined from running but it was her eyes that were special, the shape of her eyes and her way of holding her head slightly to the left. She seemed not know that they were her most prominent feature. I felt my excitement rising, I couldn't understand why because she evoked feelings of peace in me, those feelings you get from a long-term friendship. It was just as if we had known one another for a long time.

"Yes, I work for a New York publisher, in Advertising, I've survived there five years and that makes me an old hand in the department."

"Sounds to me that you either like the job or you enjoy the pressure. Which is it?"

"Oh, it's a bit of both I guess."

She glanced at her watch and I knew that she was about to leave.

"I must go, it's been nice talking with you. See you around sometime." She rose onto the balls of her feet and started running towards Fifth Avenue.

"Bye." I muttered, she might have heard me if I had spoken louder. I walked past the fountain and headed for the quaint old kiosk further up the path hoping to get a hot coffee.

I felt that if I had been a little more fluent, a little more assertive, I might have found a new friend.

I returned to the park each morning at the same time for three days hoping to see her again but each day I had left the park disappointed that she had not appeared. On the fourth day, I wore an overcoat and gloves against the cold. With my gloved hands stuffed into my overcoat pockets, I walked to the fountain and stopped to enjoy the scene. I heard the sound of running shoes slapping against the pavement and looked around to see her slowing down to join me.

"Running the pressure off again?"

"Afraid so! Oh, isn't it cold!"

"I don't know how you can put up with the cold with such little clothing. If you want to warm up I can recommend the kiosk for coffee."

"No. I have to keep going but thanks anyway. Bye."

She ran in an easy lope down the path to the street.

The next morning it snowed lightly as I walked to the fountain, the water had been turned off for the winter and icicles now hung from the edge of the first level dish. On the path, the last of the autumn leaves were sodden and disappearing under the frosting of the snow. The fountain looked strangely lonely and desolate. I heard boots clomping along beside me. I didn't bother to look until I felt a gloved hand slip between my arm and body.

"Good morning!" It was her voice and I was delighted.

I turned "Good morning to you! Too cold for running today?"

"Yes. It's too cold for running and too cold for a rostered day off, but then I remembered a stranger, a person that I met in the park yesterday; he was going to buy me a coffee. I thought that if the offer of a kiosk hot coffee was still open I would love one."

"The offer is still open and it will be my pleasure to have coffee with you." Her hand tightened around my arm as we walked to the kiosk. Again, the feeling settled on me that we had known one another for such a long time.

In the warmth of the kiosk, we shed our outer clothing; I found a small table and ordered coffee.

Waiting for our coffee I looked at her and her eyes held mine, I tried to think of a cool way to start the conversation. Instead, I thrust my hand towards her "My name is Paul." I felt clumsy.

"Yes, you look like a Paul."

She smiled at me, she didn't take my hand, and she didn't reveal her name. I pulled my hand away, I felt my face redden, and I was embarrassed not knowing what to say next. All the while, she was looking steadily into my eyes and smiling at my discomfort.

"I'm sorry Paul, I shouldn't play these silly games with you, I'm Anita."

She watched me as relief spread across my face and I started breathing again.

"Paul, I have something to tell you but I feel a little foolish talking about it. Ah..."

"Keep going, tell me..."

"Well, I keep getting this strange feeling that I have known you for a long time. I'm embarrassed to say this, but it's more than a long time... It's that I have known you intimately... I don't believe I'm saying this. I felt this on the first day I saw you and it has been nagging me ever since. In fact, I was relieved to see you standing near the fountain today; I mean I was glad to see you. Nevertheless, I don't understand my behaviour because normally I would never come up behind a stranger in the park and slip my hand around his arm as I did with you today. Deep inside me, a voice was saying to me 'This man is safe, you know him so have no fear, you know him.' This has never happened to me before and frankly, I'm bewildered."

"That's uncanny because the first morning I saw you near the fountain I also had that same feeling. I went back each morning, waiting near the fountain hoping to see you again. I wanted to understand why I had this feeling; it's unusual because it makes me feel like we are lovers who are settled and satisfied in a long term relationship."

"Oh my God! That's the feeling precisely, Paul. I had it before I spoke one word to you. I haven't met you before have I?"

"Oh no. I would have remembered you!"

"This is the strangest conversation I have ever had, I feel confused, lost for words. I wanted to see you today because I'm leaving New York in two days and taking up a job on the west coast. I felt that if I left without talking to you..."

"... it would be unfinished business?" I finished for her.

"Precisely. Oh, this is too weird for words, frankly I'm a little spooked."

"I find it a pleasant feeling but what confuses me is I don't know our common ground, so why do I have this feeling that we have so much in common."

"You're not an American are you Paul, you have a foreign accent, is it English?"

"No not English, I'm an Australian, but I haven't lived there for twenty years."

"You don't sound Australian."

"I had an accent once but it changed as I shuffled between jobs in Europe and the U.S."

"A true international, very interesting. What do you work at if you don't mind me asking?"

"I work in the chemical industry."

"You're a chemist."

"No, I'm a marketing manager; let's not talk about me, where did you grow up."

"In Chicago and that's probably why I don't feel the cold so much, it gets very cold there during winter. I moved to New York when I was twenty-two, about fifteen years ago. Oh, that's giving my age away." Anita smiled wryly.

I smiled and kidded her, "I thought that you looked under thirty, maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight and I'm guessing that you're not married."

"You're such a smooth talker, under thirty indeed! Are you guessing or hoping that I'm not married."

"Hoping... "

"And you, I'm guessing that you're married, you don't have that desperate look of a 'single' about you."

"No, I was happily married until three years ago..."

"So you're divorced."

"No, my wife died; cancer." I felt my diaphragm jump as I thought about my wife. I thought that I had finished grieving but now in my first intimate conversation since her death, I realised that the sadness persisted.

Anita grabbed my hands and held them tightly, her face showing sympathy, "I'm sorry Paul, and I didn't mean to pry."

"Please, no you weren't prying."

"You know we've been talking for such a long time..."

"... would you care to have lunch with me." It felt quite natural for me to cut her off mid-sentence.

Anita had not released my hands rather she strengthened her grip, "Isn't this unusual, you knew what I was going to say!"

"Well?"

"Yes, I would love to lunch with you."

"We can't leave here just yet, because you have some unfinished business with me..." she interrupted me before I could explain.

"... am I married?" her smile deepened and I could see her wondering whether to tell me and then her face clouded, "Well I was married once, it was a long time ago, I was twenty-one and it only lasted eight months; he beat me, he was a real bastard. Since then, I have never given myself completely to another man because I became fearful of making the same mistake again. The short answer is that I'm divorced and... and I'm lonely most of the time. I don't believe I'm telling you this!" Again, her hands tightened around mine.

"Now I'm sorry to be prying into your private life."

"Not at all, perhaps it's good for me to talk about it. However, it just occurred to me that maybe loneliness is what we have in common. Maybe this is nature's way of propagating the species. Get the two 'lonelies' together and let nature take its course."

"That wouldn't explain the feelings I have for you." I said the words without thinking of their impact on Anita.

"Oh Paul, you're getting up close and personal and I'm not sure that I want to go there."

"Please don't misunderstand me, what I said wasn't meant to be sexual; it was more than that, I was trying to explain something deeper..."

"Don't explain, I understand. You really are someone different, at least different to most men that I meet."

Somehow, I knew that Anita wasn't being cagey with me. "It's a little early for lunch would you care to walk, the snow is very light." I asked.

"I have a suggestion, there's a new private art gallery near my apartment. It opened two days ago and I promised myself that I would have a look before I left New York. They're showing my favourite art, early American, frontier stuff. Would you like to visit?"

"I would. You may be amazed or even startled but I have a collection of early American art."

"True?"

"So help me God." I raised my hand as if I were taking a solemn vow. Again, her hands reached for mine.

"Amazing, don't you see how unusual... Would you show me your collection?"

"Why don't we do it all, have lunch, visit your gallery, have dinner and I'll show you my collection?"

"Do you have enough time to do all this, I didn't plan anything and I'm not dressed for a dinner date. This is more than I imagined that I would do today."

"Me too, but let's do it anyway!" I could see the excitement in Anita's eyes.

"Are you sure, Paul? Because if you are, we could lunch then visit the new gallery, stop off at my apartment and I could dress for dinner..."

"Let's go."

Anita was effervescent as we strolled toward Fifth Avenue. The snow was still light but it was transforming the landscape. Everywhere I looked the scene was grey or white; the colours had vanished.

"Do you like Italian food, Paul?"

"Don't tell me; you have a little place near where you live, it's owned and run by an Italian family and the food is delicious."

"You're making fun of me aren't you... but it's true the food is delicious."

The strange series of coincidences continued in Anita's favourite restaurant. We both chose Cannelloni for the main course; it was delicious, and we learned that we both favoured it.

We left the restaurant; it was still snowing lightly as Anita led me in the direction of the new gallery. As we walked, she was explaining that her apartment was nearby. When she let go of my hand and put her arm around my waist, her closeness aroused me, and the comfortable feeling persisted. 'She's right for you. You've known her for such a long time' the voice deep inside me kept repeating.

The art gallery's pictures were average, I knew that my small collection had better pieces and I could see that Anita was not impressed. She took my hand and led me onto the street and we walked to her apartment on Clements Street off Fifth Avenue.

"I hope you don't mind coming with me while I change for dinner?"

I didn't answer but leaned down and kissed the side of her head; she turned and her soft full lips brushed mine. Her eyes looked fiery and I wondered if they were showing anger or desire until her hand squeezed mine. My longing for closeness with her intensified and I felt tremors in my groin. I had not been this aroused for years, I felt the stirrings of an erection, and I was glad that my heavy clothing masked my craving for her.

We rode the elevator to her apartment on the seventh floor and as we approached her door, I couldn't help remarking, "This building reminds me of a hotel."

"Yes, it was a grand hotel seventy years ago, I think the developers gutted it and made quite spacious apartments on each floor but they kept the old image alive in the corridors and even within the apartments. Here we are... go ahead." She unlocked her door and ushered me inside.

I entered into a small foyer where we discarded our outer clothing then Anita led me into her sitting room.

"See the ceilings they kept the old pattern work that was fashionable when it was a hotel, do you like it?"

"Very grand. Lovely and you've furnished it tastefully too."

"Thank you, care for a drink? No let me guess you're a vodka drinker, true?"

"Yes."

"Vodka with... ?"

"Whatever you have as a mixer."

I stood looking out of her window at the street below when Anita returned with the drinks and set them on her low coffee table. She sat on her softly cushioned sofa and patted the space alongside her. Handing me my drink her hand brushed mine, giving me a pulse of feeling, it was electric. Raising her glass, "Here's to us!" then sipped her drink and leaned her head back. What she did next surprised me, she lifted my left arm and placed it across her shoulder, and then she edged closer to me. It felt so good and natural that I cupped her shoulder in my hand. She smiled up at me, "Comfy?"

"Oh yes, very!" We drank in silence neither of us feeling the need for small talk, when I leaned to place my empty glass on the table she quickly placed her unfinished drink on the floor and as I leaned back, her hands seized my face and her soft sensual lips squashed mine. The surprise and the speed of her movements caused me to become erect and I held her enjoying the moment.

"Oh, Paul you excite me, I don't feel nervous or inhibited with you, I love this deep feeling that I have of being your lover. Another drink?" she broke away and served me another drink. Placing it on the table, she sat and settled back into my left side.

This time I took the initiative and placing my hand on her neck, I drew her slowly to me; impatiently she held my face and kissed me then her head cuddled into my neck and her hand dropped to my lap and my erect penis jumped. Surprised, she gasped and quickly pulled her hand away.

"I hope I didn't hurt you."

Many answers came to mind but I took the easy way, "I hope I didn't shock you."

She giggled and ran her hand along my erection and it jumped again. She stood, "I think I had better get dressed for dinner."

I grasped her hand preventing her moving away, "And neglect me, us."

"Paul, this all too much for me, I never thought this would ever happen. It's heady, exciting and I'm trying to understand what's happening to me, I'm out of control. I haven't given myself to a man since I was divorced and now I feel like a school girl on her first date who wouldn't dare touch a man like I just did."

I pulled her down alongside me and put my arm around her shoulder, close to her ear I whispered, "I understand, I really do. But whatever you do don't reject me." Then I kissed the hollow of her neck, I felt her quick intake of air, and she started panting. She turned and looked at me, her eyelids half closed, her cheeks flushed, she kissed me urgently and her hand strayed back to my erection. She rolled across my lap and fell to her knees in front of me, her breathing was more ragged as she pulled my zipper down, and reaching in she released me. She looked up at me and shyly smiled as her mouth started caressing the crown of my penis.

I jerked with the feel of her warm mouth as she moved further down then I tried to pull her up to me but she was strong and resisted me; again, her shy smile melted me. Her hand squeezed the base of my cock and then moving up she started stroking me in time with her mouth. She released me from her mouth and brought her other hand to rub my precum in circles into the head. Then with one hand squeezing the base of my cock, the other hand jacking me, she placed her mouth on me and sucked forcefully.

Within a minute I felt my perineum tensing, and I panted heavily, I knew I was close to climax, "Anita I... mm cumming." I warned her. I thought that she would remove her mouth but she continued with increasing fervour with her mouth firmly locked on the head of my cock. I tried to hold back hoping to hold on to the feeling but out of control I slumped and then my pelvis pushed up as I came with heavy spurts of cum depositing into her mouth. She slowed knowingly and swallowed as she jacked me in time with my ejections.

I wasn't sure whether I had passed out for a moment with the impact of what had just happened, but my libido was soaring. Anita's head lay sideways in my lap, her fingers played idly with my softening prick.

I gripped her shoulders and lifted her; she was light in my arms as I manoeuvred her onto the sofa. Placing her head on an armrest, I lifted her legs and placed her lengthwise on the sofa. She looked at me with anticipation as I unbuttoned her blouse.

Fortunately, her bra opened from the front and I released her small but full breasts. Nibbling her skin, I moved from the hollow of her neck down to her right breast, I licked the underside where it met her belly, causing her to look at me, imploring me to continue. Her hands undid the top clasp on her skirt then her hand moved to my head where she slowly ran her fingers through my hair. Taking her cue, I grasped the top of her skirt, hooked my thumbs into her panties, and slowly removed them. I don't remember where they fell as I moved back to her right breast and circled her nipple with my tongue. She closed her eyes and seemed to be enjoying my attention to her needs but her eyes flew open when I lightly bit her nipple.