Eva Mazza - Sex, Lies & Stellenbosch

Among the fifty guests to arrive were her friends’ lovers, followed by Angie, Leonard’s secretary, with whom Jen had made a strong connection, as well as Jenny and Gerard from the spa; perhaps they were an unconventional choice, but Jen would forever be grateful for the way they had treated her when she’d been so vulnerable and hurt. She had also made new friends through her work, some of whom she invited to join her celebration. She had included some of her kids’ friends, one of which was Clive, who had grown up in Jen’s house.

And of course, Myron was there: tall, tanned and handsome and extremely sexy.

He had pursued Jen from the time she blew him a kiss and walked out of his house, closing the front door behind her. But at the time, there had been no place in her life for a permanent romance. Jen was only interested in romancing Jen. She had spent years in self-imposed imprisonment and there was no way she would allow her newfound freedom and energy to be compromised by another relationship. Not then. She had stuck to her guns, and Myron, to his credit, had respectfully, if grudgingly, given her the space that she had needed.

The closest thing she had to a relationship during that time was a brief encounter with a former client, but when he gave her a diamond necklace as a token of his commitment, she ran for the hills.

It had only been Myron she wanted, and when she was ready, she summoned him to her newly purchased home on a Friday evening by way of a hand-delivered invitation. She asked him to meet her at her home address, and wrote, “Expect to wear nothing on entering”. He told her later that he had cancelled a date with a woman he had met online.

He knocked on her door at exactly eight o’clock. She had worn a long chiffon dress over a bronze body suit and tied her long hair up in an untidy bun above her head. She had wanted to look sexy, but not as if she had tried too hard.

The first things Jen noticed about him were his trendy glasses and new haircut. He looked even more attractive than she remembered. She breathed in the delectable smell of him as they stood facing each other. She was sure that her desire was radiating off her in waves.

“Hello,” he said.

“I’m so happy that you could be here at such short notice. I am the proud owner of this house. The transfer went through today, and I needed to celebrate! The only person I could think to celebrate with was you,” she babbled. She had completely lost her nerve on seeing him.

“Well, I must’ve known, because I bought flowers for your new acquisition.”

He handed her the biggest bunch of roses she had ever seen.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He couldn’t help himself, “ You’re beautiful, Jen. You are even more beautiful than when I last saw you.”

The roses never ended up in a vase. They lay on the floor at the entrance as Myron and Jen reached for one another, hungrily and longingly.

This time, they got past the front door. He took her hand and she led him to her bedroom. There, he kissed her, undoing her hairband and allowing her hair to cascade around her shoulders.

He kissed her again and helped her remove her dress.

“Did you not read the invitation?” she asked. “It clearly stipulated that you were to wear nothing.”

“No problem,” he said as he removed his shirt, revealing a strong torso and a flat stomach. She ran her hands along his chest and down his abdomen. “Very enticing you are,” she said.

She kissed his navel and ran her tongue down towards the waistband of his pants. She slowly unbuttoned his chinos. Myron gently held her chin and tilted her head, so that her eyes met his. The longing she felt was tempered with a kiss that was deep and penetrating. She shuddered as he kissed her shoulders and eased the straps of her body suit off, exposing her breasts. He lifted her to her feet and slowly slid off the rest of the clothing that remained between them, moving his hands down the sides of her body as he did so. The feeling was excruciatingly exciting.

Their eyes were still locked. They didn’t speak. Jen was swimming in his gaze. He pushed her gently back on to the bed and her legs parted as he lay between her open thighs, enjoying the feeling of him and the anticipation of their long-awaited union. He cupped her breasts. It seemed to pain him to unlock his eyes from hers as he slowly caressed each nipple with his mouth and his fingers. She groaned, and her hips moved, coaxing him. But he resisted.

His head moved down her body, eventually reaching her with his tongue, hands still caressing her breasts, before finding her with his mouth. She arched her back and her thighs clasped him as she felt his tongue and his fingers perform tricks on her she hadn’t known were possible. She groaned again, her pelvis bucking as he made her climax with abandon. He then entered her and moaned deeply as they rocked in unison, her legs pointing up like a yogi. He flipped her over and under and every which way he chose as they danced their tantric dance. And all the while she was aware of only one thing, him. Her hands were all over his body, as were his on hers; their mouths explored every part that was physically possible to explore.

Jen remembered the last time she had felt this way. It was a long, long time ago and she had allowed that person to slip away from her. This time, she knew the value of their connection◦– that you run with it and not from it.

That was three months ago, and since then, she and Myron had been an item. When Jen looked at him tonight, she felt a familiar stirring. Her desire for him was so intense. As was the thrill of knowing the feeling was mutual.

Once Jen told Pete that everyone had arrived, he tapped on his wine glass to attract the other guests’ attention. “Hi, everyone. I don’t know why Ma does this to me, but she insists that I speak, knowing full well that speaking publicly is my worst nightmare. Having said that, because you have been the most incredible mother, I will do anything for you, including speaking at your fiftieth. For most people, it’s downhill from fifty, but not for this incredibly beautiful person standing here. Most of you have travelled the journey with her that took her from heartbroken housewife to strong and sexy career woman.”

Her friends whooped appreciatively.

“I don’t have anything much to say other than thank you for being here tonight. It is her wish that I tell you to drink, eat and be merry. I now hand this microphone, gladly, to my gorgeous sister, who will present a slideshow of our mom, depicting a life that spans five decades.”

Jen hadn’t been happy about a presentation that would include pictures of her ex-husband and her estranged friends. But, during discussions with her psychologist, she had acknowledged that she had a past, and that it included the people who had played an important role in her journey. Jen knew that if Sharon had explained this to her in consultation, the two of them would have had a good chuckle.

The presentation started with new-born Jen in the arms of her mother, whom she had loved and had learned to forgive and appreciate over this past year and a half. There was a portrait of her small family◦– her father looking stern and full of self-importance, and a tiny scowling Jen sitting on her mother’s lap. Brig had included pictures of the farm on which she had been raised. There were photos of her school friends, although Jen had lost contact with every one of them.

There was the image that Jen had dreaded seeing, but had agreed to when Brigit had asked, of a handsome John and a very pregnant Jen on their wedding day. Jen had looked excited and radiant. Oh yes, she had loved him. And they had included a recent picture of Lee wearing a t-shirt that read, “I’ll be back”. Oh, how Jen wished that were true, and how she knew Lee would have loved the irony were he alive. There were photos of Jen and Frankie on various overseas holidays and of her book club friends lounging in colourful nineties swimming costumes wearing Ray-Ban sunglasses with their hair pulled back in banana clips. How beautiful they all were. They had been happy together, and they were a part of her past, a part of the person she had become.