The Applicant: Who Really Interviewed?

In May, less than a year later, I had successfully defended my dissertation and I had been offered a position at Podeski. I had not yet accepted. Sarah had also finished her Ph.D., and we had been looking for an institution where we could both find jobs in our separate disciplines. Our quest had been unsuccessful, and I had kept Podeski waiting for my decision. During that waiting time, on Liz's twenty-eighth birthday, we had learned that she was pregnant. That birthday night I had insisted we celebrate by driving to a nearby town for dinner and dancing. Given our poverty, this outing had been an extravagance. But how many times do you learn that you and your love have produced your first child? Over and over during the meal Liz had proclaimed that our child, growing in her body, had been the best birthday present she had ever received. I had been so much in love with Liz that evening that I had felt intoxicated. I had truly never known such happiness.

A thunderstorm had developed while we were celebrating. On our return trip we had been about ten miles from Columbus when a bolt of lightning had knocked a tree across the road directly in front of us. I had swerved to avoid it as it fell, but because I had been blinded by the lightning flash, I had put our car into a ditch. Neither of us had been injured, but the car had been hopelessly stuck.

When nobody had arrived to help us after several minutes, Liz had started getting worried. I had kissed her, then gotten out of the car and left to get help. I had been perhaps a hundred yards downwind from our car when I had smelled the faint odor of gasoline. In near panic I had turned and started running back to get her out of the car. Just at that moment another bolt of lightning had struck. I had been knocked to the ground, not by the lightning but by the pain of having the very core of my being wrenched out of me. Liz and our unborn child had disappeared in a huge ball of fire as the car had exploded. As I had screamed and collapsed into shock, from inside my head I had heard Liz calling my name, over and over, fainter and fainter until I couldn't hear her voice anymore.

I had awakened strapped down in a hospital bed. They had kept me in the psychiatric ward for more than a two weeks until they had been reasonably certain I wouldn't try to kill myself. For a long time I hadn't shared their optimism. My grief had been so heavy I could taste it. They had said it would go away in time. They had probably never been more wrong. I'd even had to give all of my photographs of Liz to her parents. Seeing her smiling face, particularly in those showing us together, had ripped my insides apart whenever I looked at them. Besides, I hadn't needed photos to remember her; I hadn't ever been able to forget her. Her memory had haunted me since that day.

Not knowing what else to do, I had accepted the position at Podeski. Less than three months later I had begun my reasonably successful academic career. I had never remarried. A substantial number of the faculty and students had assumed I was gay, and that my wedding ring was only a ruse. I had never told anyone about my lost love. My sex life after Liz could best be described as infrequent and unsatisfying.

For the first twenty years on the anniversary of my Dark Day, I had a habit of calling in sick, staying home alone, and getting hopeless drunk. Eventually I had managed to ignore that date. Well, almost. At least I no longer drank to forget, but the memories of Liz were always overwhelmingly vivid on my Dark Days. God, Liz, I loved you so very much! I can still hear you calling to me as you went away! If I'd just stayed in the car with you, we'd still be together now! You, me, and our unborn child! I'd rather be dead than living without you! No wonder I'd thought about killing myself!

Back to the present. I stopped weeping, and said softly, "I love you Liz! God, I still love you so much! I don't know why I'm still alive!" I closed my eyes and saw her smiling face. I wept again for several minutes.

Somehow I pulled myself together, dried my eyes, and went to hear Sarah's talk to the department. My sense of grief remained as vividly powerful as it had been twenty-eight years before. As I slowly approached the room where she was scheduled to speak, my stomach ached as it had that Dark Day.

In spite of my gut-twisting grief, as soon as I saw Sarah I immediately became aroused. I have absolutely no idea what she said in her presentation to the department. I somehow managed to get through it without having my completely inappropriate erection become obvious to anyone else. So many of her gestures and movements reminded me of Liz! Of course she was also almost exactly the same age as Liz had been when she had died. Was I losing my mind? Couldn't I get past my grief on my Dark Days? Was Sarah simply reinforcing my usual Dark-Day memories of Liz? I felt emotionally whipsawed between my throbbing carnal desire for Sarah and my aching, painfully deep love for my long- dead true love, my wife, my Liz.

Mercifully Sarah's talk and subsequent questions-and-answers only lasted an hour. Because I had not been able to find time to really talk with her during the day, I was selected to accompany her to dinner. I agreed, although I felt a peculiar mixture of fear and lust as I thought about how it would feel to be close to her for a couple of hours. I knew I was becoming completely unhinged. Was it the Dark Day? Was it Sarah? Had I gone completely mad? The sour taste of grief mingled in my mouth with the sweet anticipation of carnality.

Two of my colleagues drove Sarah to a local restaurant. I drove myself and joined them there. The four of us were seated at a rather small table with Liz to my right. Occasionally her leg bumped mine during the meal, and each time I felt the same intense feelings of erotic excitement I had always experienced when Liz had brushed against me. Several times I lost track of the conversation as I abruptly remembered - vividly and in considerable detail - making love to Liz. Each time it happened I caught Sarah looking at me with a strange look in her eyes and with patchy red blotches on her face and neck. Did she know how aroused I was? Could she read my mind? If so she would surely think I was going insane! I was as old as her parents, and here I was, innocently touching her and then imagining I was making love to a woman who had died before she was born!

I don't remember what I ate, but the meal was finally over. Because I lived in the appropriate direction, my colleagues asked me to drive Sarah to her motel. During the five-minute drive she sat silently on the front seat, staring at me. I was afraid to look at her. I was grateful for her silence, since I didn't know how I could carry on a conversation. I felt certain she knew I was still fully erect. I wondered if she realized that I wanted to touch her body in order to remind me of someone else. Images of Liz appeared in my head as I drove. Yes, I certainly was losing my mind. On this, of all days, how could I be lusting after Sarah? Or was I really just lusting after my long-dead, long-lost Liz? The throbbing from my groin didn't help me to think.

Sarah finally spoke and directed me to a parking place near her room. I really didn't want to leave, and I knew that Sarah perceived this. I was preparing to say something incredibly stupid when she said, "I have a couple more questions about the position. We could talk more comfortably in my room. Can you come in for a few minutes?" I still couldn't speak, but I nodded my head. As much as possible I tried to avoid looking at her. I really wanted to be alone with her, but I was also afraid of what might happen if I were.

I walked Sarah to her door, and she handed me her key. She was visibly trembling as our hands touched. I unlocked the door and I followed her inside. I was trembling now, too. She turned to me. "This isn't really about the job, but, well, it sort of is." She said. "But what? . . . What's going on between you and me?"

I finally found my voice. "I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you in any way! I've just . . ."

"Embarrassed? You've done much more than that! I'm at my wit's end! You seem to project your sexual desires into my head! You aren't just mentally undressing me! Every time you're in the room I can feel your thoughts. It's . . . It's . . . It's like you're touching my body with your mind and making love to me! Do you do this to all the women you know? Or are you just picking on me for some reason?"

"I'm s-s-sorry! I don't know what's happening. I really don't! Something draws me to you, and you make me remember . . . someone else. She looked a little like you and today is . . ." I had an abrupt and vivid memory of the car exploding, and I felt hot tears running down my face. I sat down in a chair and covered my eyes with my hands. I began to sob. I was suddenly simultaneously both acutely embarrassed and completely overcome with grief.

"And this! You'd been crying before my talk, hadn't you? Your eyes were all red and puffy. When I saw you, I suddenly got the feeling that somebody had just died! But then you turned your face toward me and I felt something change, and . . . and I know you were thinking about making love to me! I felt you touching me in intimate places - only with your mind, not your hands!"

I didn't know what to say, so I just sat in the chair with my hands covering my eyes. I was even more confused than Sarah was. My flow of tears began to diminish as I gradually regained control of my runaway emotions.

"Why me? I'm no seductive beauty! I don't have gigantic boobs! Why are . . . There! You did it again! Even with your eyes covered, I felt you pretending to rub my breasts! How do you do that? WHY do you do that to me?"

Sarah sat down in a chair as far from me as she could. "God, this is so stupid! I really want this job, but not so much that I'd sleep with someone to get it! Besides, if anyone ever found out that I was having an affair with a member of the department, I'd be booted out, so this is completely crazy! I should never have invited you into my room!"

There followed a silence or perhaps a minute, then Sarah almost whispered, "I don't care. I know you want me. God, you're as old as my father but I want you, anyway! In my mind I can feel your hands moving all over my body, and I'm getting excited. Something's going on here that I don't understand. So if you don't leave right now I'll probably have sex with you. We shouldn't! We really shouldn't! But if I get any more turned on I won't . . ."

Sarah was right. This situation was clearly dangerous for her, both personally and professionally. I had to leave. I stood up to go, and she stared at the bulge my erection made in my pants. I froze. She looked up and our eyes locked. I heard that strange roaring sound in my head, and then I felt Sarah, still sitting across the room, touching my penis and balls with her fingertips. We were fifteen feet apart, but I could feel my own hand sliding between her legs. I could even feel her wetness as my fingers moved through her pubic hair and explored her slippery vulva. I knew we were sharing an intense erotic fantasy, but it felt incredibly real.

I have no idea how long we stared into each other's eyes from across the room. We imagined that we were naked as we caressed each other, and we both responded as it were actually happening. As our mental touches became more forceful, I felt us both losing control. I could smell her arousal as I thought about sliding my slippery fingers in and out of her. Sarah suddenly got to her feet. I stood up, too. As we moved toward each other the imagined sensations of touching and of being touched intensified. I suddenly found myself holding and kissing her. The incredibly real erotic dream ended when we closed our eyes. I could feel her body pressing against mine through our clothing, and impossibly, the reality of her touch as she moved her hands over me was even more arousing than the fantasy had been.

Our tongues made intense and frantic love as our kiss continued. Both of us were moaning as our hands explored each other's body through our clothing. We began to undress each other. Even though we were almost complete strangers, we didn't fumble or get in each other's way, and it didn't take us very long. We knew exactly what to do as if we'd undressed each other many, many times before. Our communication as we touched was even more clear than our eye-eye conversation had been. We each simply knew what to do next. And every touch generated more desire and more erotic tension.

My shoes and socks prevented my pants from coming off. Sarah, wearing only her panties, dropped down, untied my shoes, and pulled everything over my feet, leaving me naked. As she did so she nuzzled her cheek against my erection and made excited little sounds in her throat. She kissed the head of my penis then stood back up. I dropped to my knees and leaned forward. I kissed her navel, and she pulled my face firmly against her as I slowly pulled her panties down her legs. They were nearly transparent with the wetness of her excitement. Her scent of arousal was unmistakable.

I kissed my way back up Sarah's body and we kissed naked for the first time, face to face. After a long and breathless kiss, we pulled our mouths apart and stared into each other's eyes. Her face radiated joy and passion. Our hands moved over our bodies as we actually touched what we had felt in our sensuous vision. She gasped as she caressed my penis, and she gasped again as I rubbed my fingers through her moist pubic hair and easily slipped two fingers inside her.

I spun Sarah around and held her from behind - something I had often done with Liz. My erect penis was pressed between the cheeks of her behind, and I cradled her small breasts with my hands as I kissed her on the back of her neck. She moaned, then reached up and over her head and ran her hands through my hair. "I don't know . . . I've never . . . Why? Why us? . . . What's happening?" She asked. I had no answers and I didn't attempt to provide any. Her nipples were stiff and warm and poking out between my fingers. I rubbed and squeezed them gently. I rocked forward and back, sliding my penis up and down her crease, each time thrusting my penis firmly between her legs as I moved forward. She rocked her hips back as I did so, and the head of my penis grazed her wet labia.

Once again I vividly remembered making love to Liz. This had been one of our favorite ways to begin our lovemaking. Her nipples had been extremely sensitive, and I had almost always brought her to orgasm by doing what I was doing with Sarah. As this vibrant memory of Liz faded, Sarah's hip action became more pronounced, and her moans grew louder. I felt her excitement building, and I squeezed firmly on her nipples as I cupped her breasts. Her body vibrated violently and she gave a loud groan. Her legs shook, then collapsed under her, and I had to hold her up by wrapping my arms around her waist. "God! I've never gone off just doing that! What's happening? How can you do this to me?" She cried. I turned Sarah around and we kissed, face-to-face again, my erection smashed between us. She was still trembling from her orgasm. "I need a shower first! Please!" She begged. We clung to each other as we moved into the bathroom and we never broke contact as we climbed together into the tub.

Sarah and I took turns washing and playing with each other. She laughed and kissed me as Liz had often done as my soapy fingers brought her closer and closer to another orgasm. Finally I pressed her back against the wall and she raised one leg and put it on the side of the tub. In the midst of her thick, dark pubic hair I could see that her labia were swollen and spread apart. Sarah was clearly both ready and offering herself to me.

During each of the handful of times since Liz had died when I had been seduced into having sex, I had always worn a condom. I was not afraid I would catch something. But having sex with someone else was only a mild betrayal of Liz's memory compared to what would have happened had I created another life! No matter how strong my lust, I couldn't risk that! Liz had never been far below my conscious thoughts, but this time the thought of using protection didn't concern me. I was remembering Liz as I made love to Sarah, but this time I was willing to risk getting Sarah pregnant.

The memory of Liz abruptly faded as the head of my penis entered Sarah. I felt her vagina first grip my penis firmly, then relax slightly so that I could go further inside her. I paused to enjoy the sensation as she clasped my penis. The look of passion on her face got even stronger as I felt her vagina give my penis a quick squeeze. She stared into my eyes and whispered, "Yes! Yes!"

We kissed and I leaned forward. Sarah made low moans of pleasure as my penis slowly slipped completely into her. We mated standing up. In spite of the intensity of our excitement, at first we moved together slowly, savoring every sensation. Our arousal grew and our coupling became faster and more frantic. When her vagina began to tremble and squeeze my penis in quick pulses, my own climax began. I pressed myself as far inside her as I could reach, and I ejaculated into her again and again. We both cried out. With each blast of my semen our bodies twitched and jerked until our legs began to quiver. The sounds she made and the look of joy on her face as each of my spurts splashed inside her reminded me so very much of Liz's responses the first time we'd had sex without a condom.

Finally our trembling legs gave way and we collapsed together into the tub. My penis was still mostly erect, and somehow we managed to remain joined together. Liz had never worried about her hair when we made love, and I laughed with joy when Sarah didn't complain as the shower drenched her hair and plastered it against her scalp. We wrapped ourselves around each other and giggled and kissed and hugged as the warm water cascaded over us like a waterfall. Sarah moved her body against me, but she was careful to keep me inside her.

Several minutes later my limp penis slipped out of Sarah. We lovingly cleaned each other again, and I turned the shower off. As soon as we were reasonably dry, I picked her up and carried her into the other room. I pulled the covers down, and laid her on the bed. She lay on her back, legs apart, staring into my eyes, and smiling. More than anything I had ever desired, I wanted to make love to her again.

I climbed onto the bed between her legs and crawled forward on my knees until my semierect penis was pressing against her stomach. I kissed her tiny breasts and her face and her neck. Her nipples stiffened and she moaned as I sucked as much of each breast into my mouth as I could. She ran her hands over my body and spoke quietly. "What IS this? Why are we so attracted to each other? At the conference. I didn't know who you were, but I knew you were there. I felt you . . . looking at my breasts as I talked. It made my nipples stiff and I could feel them rubbing against my bra. I felt my panties getting wet as I searched the audience for you." She paused and stared into my eyes. Again I felt that strange connection with her that I had felt before. "What's happening? OH! YES!"

Sarah had just touched my penis with her hands, and I had immediately become erect. She spread her legs wide apart and moved the head of my penis to her opening. She smiled and her eyes sparkled. Her invitation was obvious. I pushed myself slowly inside her, then kissed her as we made love in the traditional missionary position. Her hard little nipples brushed over my chest as we moved together. Liz had liked doing it this way, too. A few minutes later she repeatedly thrust her hips forcefully against mine as I moved inside her, and she began to tremble. Our kiss finally ended. Our mouths separated as Sarah threw her head back. She pulled me firmly into her with her legs, and we both climaxed in a series of intense, shuddering, groans. When it was over, I collapsed on the bed beside Sarah, and we kissed and cuddled. Her hair was drying into a real tangle as Liz's had often done. After several minutes our breathing rates were almost normal.