My then-wife was quite conservative. Diana stopped short of wearing dresses constantly, but her shorts and skirts were always at least knee-length. She always wore a bra, even in bed, despite having only 32B boobs. Never wearing a sleeveless shirt, she always wore blouses and shirts that had sleeves at least halfway down her arms. In bed, her nightgowns were always ankle-length. She didn't enjoy being seen unclothed, nor did she like nudity around her. On the rare occaisions that we had sex, she pulled her gown up to her waist, pulled her panties to the side, and never touched me. I disagreed with Diana on almost every front. Despite the fact that she had a beautiful face, her other drawbacks finally drove us apart. When the judge asked her if she wanted to share custody of Jenna, she replied "Share custody? I just want to start over, and I can't do that with a child, especially one like Jenna." The judge awarded full custody to me, and Jenna and I started life over again. We were. Things were moving too fast and she knew she needed to calm down. The cool evening air was clearing her head and letting her think straight again. There was a lot of work to do and there wasn’t much time to finish as they had all agreed during their lunch date that moving into his place would have to happen tomorrow, there was simply no other time more readily available before the wedding. Besides, she hadn’t taken birth-control in years and being alone with Gene now, she knew there was no way she could trust herself. She wanted him, desired him, needed him… more than she’d ever wanted anyone before, even more than Alberto. Gene was so sensual, so soft and loving in his touch, so sweet and attentive to her, like she was the absolute center of his world and she loved every minute of it. If he had decided to strip her clothes off right there in the kitchen that morning, she wouldn’t have stopped him and gone right ahead and made mad, passionate love to him. Now she realized that was.
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