My Sexy Awakening

Whenever I am sad or lonely, I always go to Chestnut Park. This is my safe haven, the place where all my best memories began. Here I learned how to ride a bike; I saw fireflies for the first time in my life and thought they were little fairies; I met my best friend Amanda, and I gave my first kiss to Robbie Smith. My family and I used to live in Chestnut St., just five blocks away from the park where I am now sitting comfortably under an oak tree. After my mother's death, when I was a teenager, my father decided to relocate as far away as possible from her memory. I think he was unable to process his loss. A few years after moving out of town, my father also passed away when I was about to finish college. My first thought after his death was that I had to get back to the town I was born and raised. Fortunately, my sister and her then-fiancé, Tom, decided to follow me. And today, I realized that I had been back in town for four years. My sister, Mariana, got married three years ago to Tom, and they just had a baby girl named Natalia. They are happier than words can describe.} Unfortunately, I cannot say the same. "Happiness is not on the cards for you, Andrea," I thought to myself. I just discovered that my boyfriend of two years cheated on me with a random chick he met clubbing. I was supposed to have a girls' only weekend with Amanda and her sister, but she got food poisoning, so we decided to get back to town the very same day. Imagine my surprise when I got home, opened the door, and found red stilettos and black lingerie on the white carpet. I headed to our bedroom, and there he was, balls deep into the ass of a woman I had never seen before. I was even more surprised by my reaction. I got into the bedroom, took part of my clothing, my laptop, and favorite novel, and left the place, disregarding my soon-to-be-ex pleading for me to stay and his promises that the woman naked on our bed meant nothing to him. He said that this was the first and only time he cheated, that he loves me dearly, that he will never do something like this again, and that he regrets his indiscretion. Bloody cheating lying bastard. Amanda had just found out that this was not the first time he cheated. It seems that he took advantage of all my frequent out-of-town travels to have one-night stands. Since I left him, he has been calling and texting non-stop, but I am not sure I ever want to see his face again. I made the stupid mistake of meeting with him a week ago because he cried over the phone, and he begged me to listen to his explanation. I can't believe I felt sorry for his manwhore ass. His excuse is that although he is madly in love with me, he needs hotter, dirtier s*x than I am willing to have. Since, according to him, I am "so innocent and pure," he did not want to "upset" me by asking for blowjobs, anal s*x, and spanking. He looked into my eyes and said, "I love you, Andrea, really I do. But I need kinky s*x." He even dared to tell me that all this should not be a problem considering that I am "a frigid woman, totally unable to have an orgasm." His words hurt like a son of a bi*ch. My rational side knew that my inability to orgasm might not reflect my sexu*l limitations, but that he was an unskillful, selfish lover only concerned with achieving his pleasure. Yet, my irrational side thought that perhaps he was right, and I was, indeed, a frigid, orgasmless woman, unable to please a man properly. These thoughts have been taking over my brain completely. Since this happened, I have been sleeping on my sister's sofa. She insists that Tom and her are more than happy to have me there, but I know better. I have been looking around, and all I want is to buy something around Chestnut Park, but this is a costly neighborhood where most of the houses are mansions and, therefore, totally outside my price range. Even if I am a very successful free-lance journalist and writer with a sizable savings account, a house around Chestnut Park seems impossible to afford. And then something called my attention. A gorgeous woman placed a "house for sale" ad across the park. I approached her and asked about it. She told me that the house for sale, a small cottage, was not visible from the street. We took the path between two large homes, and there it was, the cutest place I have ever seen. The woman told me that it was originally a pool house that belonged to one of the mansions around the cottage. The owner decided to divide his property and sell just the pool house "for personal reasons." The place was small but more than enough for me. It had an open-plan kitchen, dining and living room areas, and a large bedroom with an attached bathroom. The cottage had a tiny, colorful fenced patio, where I imagined myself reading, writing, and entertaining friends. I fell in love with this place immediately. When I asked about the selling price, I was shocked to learn that I could afford it. I asked her if I could arrange for an inspection for early the next day. Tom is a contractor, and he stays home every day with the baby until 9:30, so I figured I could watch Natalia and ask Tom to come over to check the place. I told the real estate agent that if Tom says the cottage is OK, I will immediately make an offer to make sure the home is mine. The real estate agent told me that they had just put the cottage on sale and that she was organizing an open house, so it was too soon to commit to me. At that point, my heart raced. I was perfectly aware that this place was unique, that the price was low, and that I could not stand losing this cottage to another buyer. I don't know how to explain it, but a rush of anxiety invaded my body. The real estate agent approached me, looked directly into my eyes, and asked if I was OK. And then, I broke down. All the emotions I had concealed so well came out like a flood. I cried and cried and cried. Between sobs, I managed to tell her that I had experienced a decade of pain and sorrow and that I needed to start a new life in a new place close to my safe haven. I told her I was homeless because of my cheating ex, so I needed to get a home soon. She caressed my hands, gave me a sweet smile, and said, "don't cry, Andrea, let me see what I can do."