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| Firepointe.com is a division of DeLeeuw Research Group. International Copyright Secured. All Rights Reserved. |
| CHAPTER 5 EXCERPTS |
| KENNETH (67) & GINA (68)…One-Hit Wonders No More VICTORIA (65)…Not a Scared Spectator Anymore KLAUS & HENRIETTA (both 70)…Alaskan Adventure GILBERT (35) & MARLENE (70)…May & December MAXIMILLIAN (74)…The Professor PETER & LI (both 67)…Eastern Horizons DOROTHY (71)…Perfect Ten LEROY (67) & JUANITA (69)…Different Cultures IRENE (68)…Hidden No More HERBERT (81) and IRMA (77)…Shooting Stars A Final Note: Your Own Seasoned Romance Questionnaire Plus, Your Own Seasoned Romance Questionnaire and an Invitation to Participate in this ongoing Book Series |
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Seasoned Romance™ Book Two. Copyright 2013 by DeLeeuw Research Group. International Copyright Secured.
All Rights Reserved. Seasoned Romance™ is a trademark of DeLeeuw Research Group, and may appear throughout
this book with or without the ™ symbol. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without prior written
permission from the editors of:
MAXIMILLIAN
I am 74, a literature professor at an Ivy League college, currently separated from Gertrude, my wife of
over 40 years, and probably headed to divorce court. Other than the past decades of my marriage, I have
enjoyed a good life. I am respected in academic circles, have been in print many times and have authored
two books on English Renaissance literature.
For years, Trudy has accused me of having affairs with practically every woman that walked within a
hundred feet of me. Nothing could have been more untrue. I can honestly say that I never cheated on her but once during all the
time we were together, and that one came after we began the process of separating. I had that one brief affair after we returned
from Hawai'i, and I’ll tell you about in a moment if you think it could help explain my feelings and hopes.
Looking back on our younger years, the mistake I made, I suppose, is that Trudy and I made love a number of times before we
were married. We were still undergraduate students at the same university. She was a virgin when we first had intercourse. I wasn’
t, although I was hardly a man of wide experience. I had done it with a three other coeds who were equally as inexperienced as I
was.
By the time I met Gertrude, I wanted to believe that I was very worldly wise at the ways of romance. The truth would have been
painfully obvious to anyone with much experience. That wasn’t the case with Trudy.
Not long after we made love for the first time, she asked me point-blank, “Have you ever done this with any other girl?”
I thought about lying. Instead, I made the snap decision that telling her the truth would be a better foundation for whatever came
next in our relationship. I’ve paid for that decision and truthful confession a million times over since then.
Everything went well. My colleagues certainly didn’t know anything about the turmoil I was feeling. We got every detail on the
agenda completed before Friday noon, but I definitely didn’t feel like joining Gertrude in Connecticut.
I decided to drive for the weekend to upstate New York. It’s one of my favorite places, so peaceful and calm, a world away from the
hustle and bustle of a major Ivy League campus.
Everything was perfect. I drove the entire way with the top down on my Mercedes coupe. It was the perfect late summer day with a
little tinge of fall in the air. My assistant had made reservations for me at a quaint inn. The suite was both rustic and inviting.
As soon as I checked in, I ran hot water in the spa, took off my clothing, opened a bottle of Pouilly Fuisse and soaked away the
cares of the world. It was shaping up to be the kind of weekend I desperately needed after the stressful time in Hawai’i with Trudy
and the endless meetings with my younger colleagues as we discussed the same details I had heard and re-hashed so many
times before.
It felt good to be alone, unencumbered, able to think.
I had been in the water for a half-hour or so, adding more hot water from time to time, when someone knocked at my door. I got
out of the water with no small consternation, toweled myself, grabbed a plush bathrobe folded nearby, and opened the door. It
was the inn’s front desk person. She had looked vaguely familiar when I checked in, but I couldn’t make the connection.
Sarah introduced herself and told me that she had been enrolled in one of my world literature classes the previous semester and
a Shakespearean literature course the year before. She was in her final week of work before heading back to the university for
her junior year.
“I recognized you when you checked into the inn,” she said with a smile. “Before I left work for the evening, I wanted to make sure
everything was okay with the room and if you needed anything.”
In some ways I wish I could take back the next few minutes, yet those moments suddenly ushered in one of the most memorable
experiences of my entire life. I am somewhat ashamed at what happened, yet filled with feelings of passion at what happened and
the possibilities to which it has opened me.
Admittedly, as you can tell from the careful manner I put my words together, I have spent too much time behind a lectern. It’s
difficult for me to stop being a professor. I tend to over-think things, but I am trying to allow myself to experiences feelings and
what my body wants, rather than pondering so much.
Whether I end up being with anyone again is anyone’s guess. I do believe in the institution of marriage. I vowed “for better or for
worse,” yet I now know that people change and vows sometimes become less meaningful and ironclad.
I also realize that I have to be careful with the choices I make in any future relationships, especially in the educational community.
Still, I yearn for the day when I can experience long-term what I did during that brief weekend with Sarah.
Sensual speaks about gratification or indulgence of the physical and sexual appetites, which is, of course, different from
sensuous, which emphasizes aesthetic pleasure. I enjoy both and would like to indulge more in the former, but throughout my life, I
seem to be better at the latter.
By the way, did you know that the word sensuous was reportedly invented by Milton, mainly because he wanted to avoid the
sexual connotations of the word sensual? I, on the other hand, would have enjoyed a lot more of those sexual connotations
throughout my life. I guess it was simply not meant to be.
Maybe it will be in the future. I hope so with all of my heart.
All Rights Reserved. Seasoned Romance™ is a trademark of DeLeeuw Research Group, and may appear throughout
this book with or without the ™ symbol. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without prior written
permission from the editors of:
- DeLeeuw Research Group
PO Box 610231
Dallas, Texas 75261
MAXIMILLIAN
I am 74, a literature professor at an Ivy League college, currently separated from Gertrude, my wife of
over 40 years, and probably headed to divorce court. Other than the past decades of my marriage, I have
enjoyed a good life. I am respected in academic circles, have been in print many times and have authored
two books on English Renaissance literature.
For years, Trudy has accused me of having affairs with practically every woman that walked within a
hundred feet of me. Nothing could have been more untrue. I can honestly say that I never cheated on her but once during all the
time we were together, and that one came after we began the process of separating. I had that one brief affair after we returned
from Hawai'i, and I’ll tell you about in a moment if you think it could help explain my feelings and hopes.
Looking back on our younger years, the mistake I made, I suppose, is that Trudy and I made love a number of times before we
were married. We were still undergraduate students at the same university. She was a virgin when we first had intercourse. I wasn’
t, although I was hardly a man of wide experience. I had done it with a three other coeds who were equally as inexperienced as I
was.
By the time I met Gertrude, I wanted to believe that I was very worldly wise at the ways of romance. The truth would have been
painfully obvious to anyone with much experience. That wasn’t the case with Trudy.
Not long after we made love for the first time, she asked me point-blank, “Have you ever done this with any other girl?”
I thought about lying. Instead, I made the snap decision that telling her the truth would be a better foundation for whatever came
next in our relationship. I’ve paid for that decision and truthful confession a million times over since then.
Everything went well. My colleagues certainly didn’t know anything about the turmoil I was feeling. We got every detail on the
agenda completed before Friday noon, but I definitely didn’t feel like joining Gertrude in Connecticut.
I decided to drive for the weekend to upstate New York. It’s one of my favorite places, so peaceful and calm, a world away from the
hustle and bustle of a major Ivy League campus.
Everything was perfect. I drove the entire way with the top down on my Mercedes coupe. It was the perfect late summer day with a
little tinge of fall in the air. My assistant had made reservations for me at a quaint inn. The suite was both rustic and inviting.
As soon as I checked in, I ran hot water in the spa, took off my clothing, opened a bottle of Pouilly Fuisse and soaked away the
cares of the world. It was shaping up to be the kind of weekend I desperately needed after the stressful time in Hawai’i with Trudy
and the endless meetings with my younger colleagues as we discussed the same details I had heard and re-hashed so many
times before.
It felt good to be alone, unencumbered, able to think.
I had been in the water for a half-hour or so, adding more hot water from time to time, when someone knocked at my door. I got
out of the water with no small consternation, toweled myself, grabbed a plush bathrobe folded nearby, and opened the door. It
was the inn’s front desk person. She had looked vaguely familiar when I checked in, but I couldn’t make the connection.
Sarah introduced herself and told me that she had been enrolled in one of my world literature classes the previous semester and
a Shakespearean literature course the year before. She was in her final week of work before heading back to the university for
her junior year.
“I recognized you when you checked into the inn,” she said with a smile. “Before I left work for the evening, I wanted to make sure
everything was okay with the room and if you needed anything.”
In some ways I wish I could take back the next few minutes, yet those moments suddenly ushered in one of the most memorable
experiences of my entire life. I am somewhat ashamed at what happened, yet filled with feelings of passion at what happened and
the possibilities to which it has opened me.
Admittedly, as you can tell from the careful manner I put my words together, I have spent too much time behind a lectern. It’s
difficult for me to stop being a professor. I tend to over-think things, but I am trying to allow myself to experiences feelings and
what my body wants, rather than pondering so much.
Whether I end up being with anyone again is anyone’s guess. I do believe in the institution of marriage. I vowed “for better or for
worse,” yet I now know that people change and vows sometimes become less meaningful and ironclad.
I also realize that I have to be careful with the choices I make in any future relationships, especially in the educational community.
Still, I yearn for the day when I can experience long-term what I did during that brief weekend with Sarah.
Sensual speaks about gratification or indulgence of the physical and sexual appetites, which is, of course, different from
sensuous, which emphasizes aesthetic pleasure. I enjoy both and would like to indulge more in the former, but throughout my life, I
seem to be better at the latter.
By the way, did you know that the word sensuous was reportedly invented by Milton, mainly because he wanted to avoid the
sexual connotations of the word sensual? I, on the other hand, would have enjoyed a lot more of those sexual connotations
throughout my life. I guess it was simply not meant to be.
Maybe it will be in the future. I hope so with all of my heart.
| EXCERPTS FROM CHAPTER 5 |
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