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I asked.
    “Forget
about this whole man-whore episode,” she said, throwing her hands back. “But
move on fast to another man. Get back in the saddle, but this time, don’t have
any regrets and certainly don’t question everything you do, or else you are
going to drive yourself crazy and end up alone.”
    I
swallowed hard. I knew she was right. The whole thing with Greg wasn’t that
bad, but in my head, it was the worst event of my life.
    When
had I become such a lunatic?
    After
another half hour of talking, the kids finally woke up and started getting
ready for school. As if that was her cue, Betsy grabbed her keys and her purse
and headed home. I kissed her on the cheek and told her thank you three more
times, and then she left.
    I
drove the kids to school, dropped them off at their usual spots and drove back
home. The whole time, I thought about my friend’s words, trying my damnedest to
come up with a strategy to overcome the problems that she had broached.
    Greg
had been a great guy, and there was no denying the fact that the sex we had was
insanely good. Even the best time with Frank had been nothing compared to what
I experienced the night before. Did the fact that Greg was paid to do that sort
of thing affect the night in any way? Was I being too hard on him and on
myself?
    I
think the hardest part to overcome was the fact that it was prostitution. That
word alone sent shivers up my spine, but the reality was that the profession
had been around for hundreds – no thousands – of years. Sure, all major
religions denounced prostitution, and the majority of society would public
claim that it was vile, and it was an illegal institution.
    Honestly,
I asked myself, what was the harm in what had happened the night before? Had I
known what he was, it probably never would have happened, but the fact remained
that I did not. So how did that make me a bad person?
    One
thing that Betsy had said stuck with me. I had to overcome this whole prudish
mentality that had dominated my mind set ever since I could remember. Even with
Frank, sex had to happen with the lights off.
    I
decided that it was time for a change. I couldn’t look at myself and potential
romantic encounters the same way anymore. Despite what I had always felt, it
was time now for me to feel free when it came to men. How was I going to do
that? That was the challenging part. I could decide and declare all day long,
but when it came time to actually practice what I was saying, that was a
different story altogether.
    As
I turned onto my alley, I made a mental decision to do whatever it took, at the
next available opportunity, to rid myself of this prudish overcast that plagued
me.
    When
I pulled into my driveway, I saw that Derrick’s truck was parked in its usual
spot. He wasn’t due until tomorrow, so I wasn’t sure why he was there.
    After
parking the car in the garage, I walked into the kitchen and stared out the
back glass. There he was, cleaning the pool by swiping the net through the
water to get all of the leaves and other debris that had fallen in. Since he
didn’t have a shirt on, I got a good view of his slim, muscular torso and that
beautiful tanned skin. His swim shorts hung so low on his hips that I could see
the top inch or so of his butt, and the sight was one that was hard for me to
turn away from.
    He
turned and saw me, extending one of his well-toned arms up in greeting. He
smiled, and I could see his white teeth from across the patio. His sandy blond
hair had been pulled up into a small ponytail behind his head.
    If
I didn’t have to worry about him catching me, I would fan myself right there.
He was so pretty. It was a different attractiveness than Greg. My date from night
before was a rugged man, with dark hair and stubble. Derrick was a younger
beauty, with smooth skin that hadn’t even begun to show any signs of aging. His
face had that ageless quality and zeal that life hadn’t had an opportunity to
squash.
    Why
had he chosen to