Jennifer the Beloved

Be forewarned, this entry contains words of a sexually explicit nature. If such things offend you, I advise against reading it.

I never had such a heart wrenching breakup with a girl than the one I had with Jennifer Harvey. We dated for the better part of a year, actually living together for the last few months. Time spent with Jennifer was a sheer joy. And it all came to a crashing halt when she came to me and said that she was in love with another man, a married man no less. I have vivid memories of the constant physical pain I felt each day after that, as I struggled to continue on with my life. Several times, I was so overcome with grief that I felt like I was going to die. It still pains me when I think of it now. I believe the source of the pain was in the fact that I deeply cared for Jennifer. She had won me over, heart, might, mind, and soul. I never expected our relationship to have ended so abruptly.

Upon reflection, I believe that Jennifer’s problem with me was that she felt our relationship was going nowhere. I believe that she was frustrated in the living together arrangement, as she often talked about getting married. With my bitter divorce experience still fresh in my mind, I wasn’t ready to make the kind of commitment she was talking about. I even avoided telling Jennifer that I loved her, rationalizing that I only liked her a lot. In reality, I was in love with her, deeply. When I quit fooling myself and realized this, it was too late. Jennifer had sought greener pastures.

Jennifer and I met at work. She was a gate agent and I was a supervisor for America West Airlines in Phoenix. I even remember our first encounter, which is a rarity for me. She had just finished working a flight and had some downtime. She was standing in the gate area, watching the planes outside. I was tired and sat down on a bench near her and started up a conversation. She must have thought I was rather forward, talking to her out of the blue like that. Still, she exchanged pleasantries with me and showed me the first signs of what I grew to love most about her, an extremely amicable nature. Jennifer was the kind of person that everyone loved. She always demonstrated a vibrant personality and upbeat nature. I can only recollect a few times that she appeared sad or angry and those times were short-lived.

After encountering Jennifer at work in similar situations as the first, I decided to ask her out. To my delight, she accepted. That was Jennifer’s nature, always accommodating. This proved to be a great asset in all aspects of our relationship. No other girl had I dated before that, or since, lifted my spirits as high as Jennifer did. She didn’t mother me; rather, she encouraged me and helped motivate me to be a better person. Her influence over me led to me quitting drinking and smoking. I quit those things after we broke up, but it was through her efforts that I felt compelled to do so. Never at any time did I feel like she was nagging me. Jennifer was simply a joy to be around.

After dating for several months, it got to the point that Jennifer was spending more time at my place than hers. I lived in Scottsdale, Arizona at that time with a roommate, Brad Bozarth. Brad had a big interest in Asian girls and had been to Thailand in order to meet some there.

Because they were more accessible to him, Brad spent most of his time (and money) in the company of Thai prostitutes. I feel partly responsible for this, because I had been traveling abroad and doing the same thing, albeit a good percentage of the girls I was with were not prostitutes. Still, I had opened up the door for Brad with my stories of wild and unattached sex in foreign countries, before meeting Jennifer.

My main points of picking up girls were located in the Caribbean, whereas Brad was more enticed by the offerings of Asia. I even introduced Brad to a website,, where he could exchange messages with men who were of the same mindset. That is how I began my pursuits. I grew tired of traveling around the world to see things. Meeting girls appeared to be a bigger reason to travel, although my time was limited. That is how I happened upon that website, searching for like-minded individuals on the web.

One trip to Thailand that Brad took turned out to be an extremely stressful situation for me and, consequently, for Jennifer. He was to have been gone only one week, but ended up staying over a month. During that time, I was very concerned about him. I was unable to contact his family, because I didn’t know anything about them or where they lived. After he had been gone over his planned time, I called the American embassy in Bangkok and reported him missing. They promised to call me if they found him.

I was going frantic, wondering where my friend and roommate was. He had told me a bit about where he was going, so I called some hotels in that area. As I recall, one of them had had him as a guest prior to my phone call, but he had checked out a few days beforehand. I calmed down a bit, knowing that he had been okay, at least a few days before. I continued to call the other hotels in the area, but had no luck.

Jennifer sensed my anxiety and did her best to alleviate it. Through her words of encouragement and comforting actions, I endured the trying time. A little over three weeks into Brad’s disappearance, I came home to find a message from him on my answering machine. It was brief, saying that he needed money and would call back later.

The next day, I answered the phone to hear Brad on the other end. He said he couldn’t talk long and gave me the Western Union office to wire money to. He also gave me his ATM pin number and location of a spare card he had at our place. Per his request, I withdrew $600 from his account and wired it to him. I verified through Western Union that the money was picked up. I was elated, expecting him to return with the whole adventure story by the next day.

About one week later, I returned home from work to find Brad there. I asked him to tell me what had happened on his trip. I was quite surprised to find out that the extended period he spent in Thailand was of his own choosing. Furthermore, he had not only spent the money that I had wired him, his money, but money that was wired to him from his father, his father’s money. Despite a few mishaps along the way, he had been thoroughly enjoying himself abroad, while we were worried sick about him at home. Jennifer voiced her sentiments about the occurrence, which mirrored those of my own. She said that Brad’s irresponsible nature could be a detriment to me at work, as I was his friend and supervisor. I agreed that it would be best to distance myself from Brad and didn’t renew the lease we had on our place. Instead, I felt it would be an opportune time to move in with Jennifer.

I don’t recall Jennifer being reluctant at all about the proposition of us living together. There was the small problem that our company had a policy against Supervisors dating subordinates. However, it was about this time that Jennifer moved to working in the International part of the airline’s operation. Although it was within my same department, passenger services, and she was technically subordinate to my position, I felt that we were sufficiently separated to not cause a fuss. Just to make sure, I told my manager, John Romantic, about the situation. He told me not to worry, that that was how he had met his wife, but added that I should keep it low-key. I pretty much did, until the breakup. It was my actions at that time which caused me a lot of trouble at work. I’ll get into that later on.

Jennifer and I found a symmetrical apartment, each side having a bedroom and a bathroom. That way, I could maintain my anti-commitment stance while continuing to grow closer to Jennifer, somewhat of a catch-22 situation. Even though we had separate bedrooms on each side of the apartment, we ended up sleeping together most every night.

Jennifer was a wildcat in the bedroom. Here zeal for all things freaky in nature was right on par with my own. We indulged in all kinds of debauchery.

One night, Jennifer asked me if we could go to a swinger’s club together. I had told her about visiting one before I met her and she was interested in seeing what it was all about for herself. So, we went. On the way, we discussed what it was we wanted to do there. I suggested that we just play it by ear, no expectations. We arrived to find the club fairly full. Luckily, there was a free table for us to sit down at and investigate the happenings.

Because the club didn’t sell alcohol, nor “officially” allow it, we snuck a couple of pints of Captain Morgan rum inside. This we mixed with Coca-Cola, which was the only drink offered at the club, aside from water.

It was very dark inside of Sociables II, the name of the club, and most of the lighting for the main room came from the dance floor. There were about ten couples on the dance floor, wearing everything from formal attire down to lingerie. There were a couple of girls, wearing only their underwear, dirty dancing in front of two men seated off the edge of the dance floor, dressed in silk pajamas. That was the first time I had seen men wearing silk pajamas in public, aside from Hugh Hefner on TV.

Every now and then, a couple or two would go upstairs, as others came down. Having been there before, I explained to Jennifer that there were rooms up there where people went to have sex. Always ready for adventure, she asked if I wanted to go up there and have sex with her. However, after I told her that most of the rooms had windows so people outside could watch, she said she wasn’t drunk enough to do that and took a big gulp of her Rum and Coke.

After drinking a bit, I started feeling a bit buzzed. I knew that Jennifer must have been feeling it, too, as she appeared very, um, relaxed. I excused myself to go to the bathroom. While there, another man came into the bathroom and stood at the urinal next to mine. As we went to the bathroom, he struck up a conversation. “Is this your first time here?” He asked. I replied that I had been there a few times before. “Are you and your girlfriend swingers?” He asked. I answered that we weren’t, that I was interested, but I didn’t think Jennifer was. “You never know,” He said as I washed my hands. Nodding in agreement, I left the restroom and returned to the main room.

I returned to the table where Jennifer and I were previously seated, but she was not there. Instead, four other people were seated there. I asked them if a girl was sitting there before and one of them answered, “No, it was empty when we go here, dude.” I walked around the dark room, searching for Jennifer.

Finally, I found her. She was sitting with an older man, maybe in his fifties. They were talking and laughing. As I approached, Jennifer turned to me and said, “Oh, here’s my boyfriend! BB, I’d like you to meet someone.” She introduced me to the man (I can’t remember his name) whom she had met only a few minutes before. Right after that, a woman around the man’s same age came up to him. “And what timing! Here’s my wife.” The man said, adding, “You two weren’t together, were you?” He was obviously joking, as he followed his question up with a hearty laugh. “Not as I recall,” His wife quipped back. More laughter followed.

The couple explained to us that they were regulars at the club. They were longtime swingers and wondered if Jennifer and I were “into the scene”. Jennifer answered before I could. “No,” She replied, “But we’re very interested.” With that statement, she had opened the door. This is what many guys dream about, a woman who wants to go swinging. I had imagined what it would be like to watch Jennifer with another woman. The idea turned excited me to no end. I looked over at the 50-ish woman. Although she was not the exact person who played the role of the other woman, she would do. For her many years, she had weathered well. She was reminiscent of Jane Fonda at that same age, still athletic and alluring.

The couple continued to talk with us about everything under the sun. Eventually, the topic came back to swinging and they propositioned us. Actually, the man made the proposition. As he did, he rested his hand on Jennifer’s thigh. She didn’t move it. Unexpectedly, rushes of jealousy shot through my body. I hadn’t expected that. I found myself wanting to leave, wanting to grab Jennifer and get out of there. She was my girl, I felt, and sharing her with another man, no matter how logical it seemed on the surface, simply wasn’t the right thing to do emotionally. I got a hold of myself and forced myself to concentrate on other things. “BB and I should talk about this in private,” Jennifer said. The man slowly removed his hand from her thigh and patted her on the back, saying, “We’ll be back in a minute.” Then, the couple left us alone.

Jennifer asked me how I felt. I wanted to scream out that I felt it was wrong, that I didn’t want to share her with anyone else. I wanted to leave the club right then and there. However, I also wondered if she wanted that. After all, she was the one that had wandered off while I was in the bathroom and started up a conversation with a stranger. Maybe she had come to the club expecting to do this sort of thing. I simply told her that it was alright with me, if it was alright with her. She said, “Sure.” So, we waited for the older couple to return.

After the older couple returned, we informed them that we were indeed interested in swinging with them. Then, they led us upstairs to one of the rooms. The room we entered looked like something along the lines of a Motel 6 room, clean, but simple. There was a bed on one wall, with some tables and chairs along another wall. Almost immediately after entering the room the older couple began kissing each other. Shortly thereafter, they invited us to join them. We approached them and they switched. The lady began kissing me and the man began kissing Jennifer. Again, I was surprised to feel this uncomfortable at seeing another man kissing Jennifer. I felt like I was falling down a deep hole, fast.

We all began to disrobe and engage in oral sex. It was at that time that the feeling of not really wanting to be there became all-encompassing. I moved closer to Jennifer and whispered, “What are you thinking?” “I’m not comfortable. Let’s get out of here,” She whispered back. Immediately, I jumped to my feet and declared that Jennifer and I could not go through with it. “No problem,” The man said, “The first time’s always the hardest. You don’t mind if we stay here, do you?” “No,” I answered, “Of course not.” Jennifer and I quickly dressed, apologized, and then left. We walked straight out of the club and into the car. On the way home, we joked about the whole thing. Jennifer brought up something about the lady’s anus, which to her looked grossly extended. I admitted that I hadn’t noticed it and wondered if that had been the reason Jennifer called the whole thing off. Regardless of the reason, I silently vowed to never do that again.

I have to admit here that I treated Jennifer rather nonchalantly. I felt that there was absolutely no way I would ever lose her. I thought she would be loyal to me forever. I honestly felt that we would get married someday. Apparently, that “someday” wasn’t quick enough for Jennifer. Sadly, as Jennifer’s ever-increasing sexual needs were being satisfied by me, she was getting her emotional needs satiated elsewhere.

She had befriended a man at work, Jonathan. He worked in ground operations, in the tower. Jennifer had just started working in the Off-scheduled Operations Office. OSO was an offshoot of the passenger services department that was responsible for handling late flights. In the years to come, OSO would be integrated into a new area called POC, or Passenger Operations Control. For a period of time, I was in charge of that area. However, Jennifer was long gone by that time and it was during the OSO days that this all happened.

My good friend, and former coworker, Rena Jensen, was in charge of OSO at that time. She would later marry my good friend and also former coworker, Kevin Schuman. The reason that I appear to be meandering in the telling of this story is that minute details of how the whole thing transpired are coming to mind as I think about this. I am realizing that everyone had a part to play in the outcome of things, from Jennifer to Jonathan to Rena to Kevin.

If one of them had not done exactly what they did do, then things would have been played out completely different. Now, none of this is to say that I didn’t play a part in the way things turned out. On the contrary, my role was a major one. It was because of my seemingly indifferent attitude toward Jennifer that she was compelled to look elsewhere in the first place. Still, philosophically speaking, it is interesting to conjure up thoughts of “What if”, albeit a big waste of time.

Anyway, Jennifer began having conversations with Jonathan about things of a romantic nature. Somewhere along the line, he proclaimed his undying love for her. At that same time, Jennifer and I were getting very freaky with our sex encounters. Jennifer had never had anal sex before. I had been with a couple of anal-virgins before her, so I knew what to do – so I thought. We spent an entire evening “romancing the asshole”, as I called it back then. In the past, that had worked, loosening up the girl enough to have anal sex. However, Jennifer’s muscles were stubbornly tight around that area.

So, the situation called for drastic measures. We were going to Las Vegas for the weekend, to gamble a bit and watch a comedy show. I took the opportunity to introduce Jennifer to a butt plug. It wasn’t a large one, just large enough to stretch her a bit. Before our trip, I inserted it into her rectum. She wore it the entire day. In the evening, as we waited in line for the comedy show, I noticed that Jennifer was looking a bit disheveled. I could tell by the way she was standing that the butt plug was beginning to be uncomfortable for her. I couldn’t avoid the temptation. I had to say it. “What’s wrong?” I asked, “It looks like you have something stuck up your butt.” Out of nowhere, Jennifer sent a punch to my arm. Turning serious, I asked, “Do you want to take it out?” She shook her head. “No,” she responded, “I can do this.” “What a trooper!” I exclaimed. Another punch to my arm was sent my way, courtesy of Jennifer. I was lucky that she hadn’t aimed lower.

The comedy show I took Jennifer to wasn’t who I had expected. I wanted to take her to see Brian Regan, a comedian who I had seen perform in Tempe, Arizona at The Improv. I somehow had his name confused with another comedian. It was that other comedian’s show we saw in Las Vegas that night. I can’t even remember his name now. Regardless, I was somewhat disappointed after the show. We returned to our room at The Luxor. Jennifer, always one to try and cheer me up, said, “BB, come here.” She passionately kissed me and then pushed me back into a seat by the side of the bed. “Look,” She said. She then turned around and bent over the bed. She slowly slid her skirt down her legs and followed it with her panties. Then, she pulled the butt plug from her rectum, letting it fall to the floor, and spread her ass cheeks. “I think it’s ready,” She said, “Are you?” Of course, I was, and it was, and she was, and everything was and it was a terrific night, plain and simple. What a wildcat she was, my Jennifer.

The great sex didn’t stop Jennifer from pursuing her more emotionally-based relationship with Jonathan. Eventually, she had sex with him, too. She even told me about it. Through streams of tears, she begged for my forgiveness. Jennifer promised to never do it again and pleaded with me to stay with her. Stupid me, I believed her. Also, I convinced myself that she felt so bad about the affair that there was nothing to worry about in the future. All was well. That led to my demise. I should have been extremely diligent in catering to the emotional needs of Jennifer, in order to have kept her. However, I wasn’t and she had sex with Jonathan again.

After the second time, I was heartbroken. Also, I was a bit put-off by the fact that she had not only done it once, but twice. “The audacity of her!” I felt, “To have cheated on me, when all I had done for her were good things.” It was at this time that sex between Jennifer and I grew extremely physical. This is commonly known as “grudge fucking”. I took sex with Jennifer to a new level. I introduced her to the world of degradation. For some reason, she took to it like a duck to water. Perhaps she felt guilty for what she had done and thought that was what she deserved, to be degraded. Regardless, she acted like she enjoyed it and told me so. We got into a little S&M play. Also, I introduced Jennifer to fisting, both vaginal and anal. I think I was trying to ruin her for Jonathan, for I knew subconsciously that it wasn’t over between them. Sure enough, she admitted to having sex with him yet again.

After the third time, it was Jennifer that said our relationship would not work. According to her, she was in love with Jonathan. I couldn’t believe it. After all we had been through, she was in love with this guy who merely told her he loved her and had vanilla sex with her a few times? The whole thing was hard to believe. I confronted Jonathan at work. I had never seen the man before, only spoken to him over the radio.

When I first saw him, I thought it was a joke. Jennifer was leaving me for this guy? He looked malnourished. His gaunt features revealed two beady eyes that were way too close together. His hair was thinning out. What little hair he had was greased back away from his forehead. He also dressed like he was out of the 70s. I imagined he had a few leisure suits and smoking jackets hanging in his closet at home. The most dramatic thing about him was his teeth. They all seemed to point in different directions and were of various sizes. I wanted to ask him to take of the mask, but I knew that is how he really looked. What kind of a statement was that saying about me? For a brief moment during our conversation, I felt my self-esteem lower. It was “brief” because I remembered the reason Jennifer had gone with him, because of what he said to her, not how he looked.

My conversation with Jonathan (he was known as Jono at work – I have no idea why) was short and to-the-point. “I only ask that you treat Jennifer with the highest respect,” I said, “Because if you ever hurt her and I hear about it, I’m coming for you. She’s the greatest thing that ever happened to me and you’ve taken her away. I wish you all the best, but if you harm her in any way, you’ll seriously regret it.” Then, I turned and walked away.

It all didn’t end there. Jennifer and I still had a lease on the apartment together. We needed to find someone to take over her part of the lease before she could move out. So, we struggled to live together for a few more months while putting ads in some local papers. Actually, it was I who put the ads out. Even though it was Jennifer’s responsibility to get out of the lease, she chose to avoid the apartment issue as much as possible. That is because it meant not having to talk to me. I understand that now, as I was a terrible person to be around at that time, especially for her.

I began to leave little notes for Jennifer around the apartment, proclaiming my love for her. I made a video for her, complete with poetry and music, pleading for her to come back to me. I even told her that I loved her. It was all too little, too late. And, it was all rather beneath me. I was a lunatic. But, I didn’t know what else to do. One day I would cry for hours and the next day I would be so angry that I’d spray Raid in her underwear drawer while she was away.

I had purchased a telephone recorder to tape the conversations I had with my ex-wife, back when I was suing her for custody of my son, Cameron. (She was really quite off her rocker back then.) I decided to use the recorder to secretly tape the conversations Jennifer was having with Jonathan. I thought I might hear something that I could use to get her back. I didn’t. Instead, what I heard were a lot of sappy lovey-dovey conversations. Most of their conversations went like this:

Jonathan: I love you.
Jennifer: No, I love you.
Jonathan: No, I love you
Jennifer: No, I love you

It was nauseating. However, it must have been exactly what Jennifer needed. She ended up moving out before a replacement tenant was found. Luckily, a replacement was found shortly after. His name was Jim Miller and he was in the Air Force. His wife, a German girl, was trying to become a U.S. citizen and they were temporarily living apart. Jim was a great guy and spent several hours listening to my sob stories about Jennifer. He helped me through a rough time. For a newfound friend, that’s a tough thing to do. I will always be grateful to him for being there when I needed someone badly.

After Jonathan’s divorce went through, Jennifer actually ended up marrying him. They moved to Portland, Oregon, as I recall, and worked for America West Airlines there. Eventually, Jennifer quit the airlines and Jonathan soon followed. I don’t know where they went after that. It was a bad time for all of us. That’s for sure. I feel regret for how I handled the whole thing. I remember telling Jennifer that Jonathan left his wife for her and he would do the same thing again, to her. I hope that didn’t happen. I hope they are both still happy together. I wish them nothing but good things.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.