8 comments/  75351 views/  27 favorites

Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 01

By: SusanJillParker



Meeting Lynn, while walking my dog through the dog park.

She stopped me in my tracks when she suddenly appeared from behind some shrubbery with her South African puppy, Seymour, a Rhodesian Ridgeback. He had spotted my dog, Polo, and ran out to play chase. My dog is the chase champion, only he likes to be chased and not chase other dogs. The fastest dog at the dog park, no dog can catch him. I should have named him Flash or Zip in the way that he can run, jump, leap, and zigzag away from any dog at will.

I watched her dog interact with mine. He was so young, so clumsy, and so funny in his play. His big paws too big for the size of him made him look as if he wore oversized shoes that caused him to trip and stumble. So terribly uncoordinated, he was as laughable as she was beautiful. Then, I looked at her, again, so young, so self-confident, and so self-assured. In a word, a true beauty, mesmerizing is how I'd describe her.

Who is this woman and where has she been all my life? The thought that I was so very much older than she was and that she hadn't been born yet, when I was searching for my one and only, filled me with sadness, guilt, and shame. Easily, I was twice her age. Suddenly, I felt lecherous and foolish. If I were her dad, I'd be warning her about guys like me, just as I had warned my daughters about older men being after only one thing. Yet, there I was lusting after this, oh, so young, beautiful woman. Without me realizing it, I had become one of those guys.

"He's too old for you, Honey," I imagined her father talking about me, when she brought me home to dinner to meet her parents, as if I was some young grad student. "Don't throw your life away over him. Find someone your own age. If you were to have children with this guy, he'll be old enough to be their grandfather when they are still in high school. Besides, he's only after one thing."

"Only after one thing..."

Of course, the dialogue that I imagined her father having with her over me is the same dialogue that I had with my own daughters. His thumbnail assessment of me would have been correct, only, love at first sight, I wanted more than sex from her. I wanted everything. I wanted the stars and the moon. Until death do us part, I wanted to love her forever.

Sex screamed through my mind. Yes, I want to fuck her. Yes, I want to do dirty, nasty things to her shapely body and to her beautiful mouth. Yes, I want her. All of this went through my mind in the first few seconds of meeting her. Never have I been as taken with a woman, have seen a woman so beautiful, and have wanted any woman as much.

When I looked at her, she made me feel so sensuously soft and fuzzy warm inside like the feeling I get from my first bite of rich, dark chocolate or from that first kiss after a romantic evening or when seeing someone as enchanting as was she. The thought of making love to her was a deliciously decadent thought that I enjoyed savoring for as long as I could because I knew that it would never happen. I knew that she would never be interested in a man like me, a man who was twice her age.

Normally, someone like her would make me feel old and foolish. Yet, the moment that I saw her, she made me forget my past and yearn for a future with her in it. If only I was rich, I'd make her mine by tempting her with my wealth and money. If only I was younger, I'd entice her with my good looks and hard body. If only I was powerful and influential, maybe, she'd want me then. If only she was mine for one night, I'd cherish the memory of her for when I'm older and no longer of a mind to entertain such sexual thoughts of a wild and crazy fantasy of having an intimate, sexual relationship with her. 

With a complexion so fair and so healthy, she looked brand new. I bet she smelled new, too. I saw her in the way that I'd see my new, shiny car for the first time. She's a real beauty with great lines. Can I touch her? Can I take her for a spin? How fast will she go? What will she do in the corners? She has that new woman smell. I can't wait to take her for a long drive to the beach, to the mountains, and to go parking at some romantic spot overlooking the ocean.

With her dark hair so shiny and her hazel eyes so bright, the contrast of the two made her look catlike in appearance, dark brown hair almost black with green-blue eyes that tore through my skin, as if a laser to my heart. She moved with the sexuality of a woman who knows that she has a hot body, but that doesn't need to show it; she has no reason to prove anything to the world. She had class. With that, I knew she was modest and private, and I liked that about her. It's funny the things that I imagine, when reading into a person and finding out later how right or how wrong I was in my instant, thumbnail assessment of her.

We connected so immediately and so easily that I felt that I knew her already and that we were already friends. Much in the way of watching a favorite movie over and again, every time I looked at her, I noticed something else about her that I had missed before, something that made me want her even more. Her beauty stole my conscious thought and it was not until I walked beside her for some distance that I noticed that she was tall, 5'8" and had quite the figure beneath her loose fitting dress.

I had to pry my eyes and forcibly turn my head away, so that I wouldn't be caught staring at her beauty. I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable in my presence and for her to think me rude, lewd, or just another horny, old guy lusting over her outside appearance without taking the time to learn more about her and who she is inside. Instead, I decided to play it cool, so that she'd enjoy our time together, remain in my company longer, and hopefully, walk with me a bit more, at least, until we were standing at the end of the earth together.

My ulterior motives worked because she walked with me the entire time that I was at the dog park. I so wanted to endear myself to her, but I had so little time to do that. To me and my imagined hope, her time with me almost felt like a date and I imagined that we were a couple taking a stroll together, after having a sumptuous meal, before heading off to bed to have wild sex. That warm thought, and with her by my side, lifted my spirit made me feel young and vital, again, something I thought would never happen to me, after my divorce.

In this world of people, those who take little pride in their appearance, she was a shining star. Without doubt, being genetically perfect and looking like the woman that every man could lust over, love, and live with for the rest of their lives, she already had a head start. Still, so many women even don't put a brush through their hair or some gloss on their lips, when heading off to the dog park with their dogs. Embarrassed to say, some dogs look better than their female owners. Do they feel that because they're in a relationship that they no longer have to look appealing anymore? Do they feel that just because they're walking the trail in a dog park that no one will see them? Or do they just not care anymore and have given up on themselves?

There she was at the dog park wearing a smart dress that she could have worn to a restaurant. Her hair, clean and neatly tied back, displayed a feminine hairclip. With her hair pulled back like that, the effect highlighted her cheek bones that gave her an elegant look. She wore makeup, a rarity to see women wearing makeup at the dog park, the mall, or the supermarket these days. Everyone is so casual, too casual in appearance with blue jeans, wrinkled t-shirt or sweatshirt, and dirty, white sneakers being the uniform of the day. She was stunning. When compared to the other women at the dog park, she looked like a Goddess that had magically appeared on Earth just for me, I imagined, and just for me, so I hoped. That was the first time that I met Lynn.

Over the next few months, I saw her occasionally and, always, she looked as beautiful as she did the first time I met her. I tried planning my day accordingly, being at the park the same time that I saw her there last, hoping to catch her again and always, so as not to embarrass myself or have her think me a stalker, I tried to make our chance meetings appear accidental. When, after a time, I didn't accidentally on purpose see her, I started haunting the place and taking my dog there multiple times a day, until it was ridiculous with people asking me if I lived at the dog park. Besides my dog was getting too thin and muscular from all the exercise and I was getting too preoccupied with the thoughts of hoping to see her again.

In the back of my mind, I hoped that she believed in fate and would pick up on the serendipitous circumstance of my preplanned, coincidental encounters. In the back of my mind, I hoped she found me as appealing as I found her. I hoped that she was single and without a boyfriend. Of course, I was crazy to think that someone, who looked like her would be without a man. Moreover, I was deluding myself in thinking she'd be interested in someone as old as me. Without doubt, I was too old for her. Without doubt, she was too young for me. Oh, God, perish the thought and erase the image of her licking a pussy from my mind, but I hope she's not lesbian.

"I don't come here as often as I would like," she said when I finally saw her again, after a long absence. I was so happy to finally see her. Whenever I walked with her, instead of lumbering along, I had a spring to my step and a big, dumb smile on my face. "My dog loves the park and I love the exercise of walking within the beautiful scenery. I wish I could take him here every day but..." she paused to give me a sad smile with her face suddenly becoming troubled. "I don't always have the time to take him," she said in a softer voice that was suddenly distant. It was obvious that she was hiding something.

I come here too much in the hopes of seeing you again; I wanted to admit to her but did not dare. She made me want to get down on my knee and declare my love for her. Suddenly, I felt foolish, desperate, and pathetic. I don't even know her and to think that I have fallen in love with her was preposterous. Definitely, I need therapy. Love at first sight; who believes in that anymore? Yet, love is the only thing that could and can transgress age. Right? Maybe no, maybe yes, if only, I wished, oh, God...

She gave me a glimmer of hope every time she looked at me and smiled, as if I was her wicked older boyfriend. She smiled at me. She actually smiled at me. That's good right? Moreover, I made her laugh with my dry, sometimes blackly sardonic sense of humor. Over their head, most people don't get my humor, but she thinks that I'm funny. That's okay. I'll play the fool for her, if she'll stay with me a little longer and if she'll seek me out again to walk with me through the park.

I love it when she pays me the attention worthy of her smile. I love it when she laughs. She has such a musical laugh, a laugh that makes me laugh with her. I so enjoy her happiness that I bask in her joy. She makes my day whenever I see her, again.

If she wasn't beautiful enough before, when she smiles, she becomes even more beautiful. Her smile made me hunger for her and want her even more. Don't stare. Don't stare at her; I had to keep thinking to myself, so that I wouldn't make a complete ass of myself. Play it cool. Stay calm. Relax, don't say anything stupid and whatever you do, don't stare at her.

To my favor, whenever she saw me, she'd wave and come running over to me. She made me feel special when she did that. Suddenly, I was launched back to one of those old Irish Spring soap commercials, where the two lovers run toward one another, through the heather, to embrace in a tender kiss.

I loved watching her run, while watching her generous breasts bounce up and down and side to side. She has a rack, not overly big and not too small, probably a small C cup, but nice shapely breasts that I dream about every night, when I'm alone with her in my thoughts and lonely. I imagined her running towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and pressing her lips against mine in a long, wet kiss. I can almost feel her tongue against mine. I can almost feel her body pressed against mine. Only, it wasn't me who she wanted to see. Unfortunately, it was my dog. She loves my dog. She made me wish that I was him.

"He's the cutest thing, ever," she said, scooping him up off the ground to give him a big hug and a kiss on his head. "Polo, I love you. You're so sweet. Do you want to come home with me?"

Yes, I nearly involuntarily said, while wishing I could lick her face in the way that my dog was licking her. Who said dogs are dumb? My dog was wicked smart to be as attracted to her as I was. I so wished that I was a dog, a dog my parents had named me Polo, so that she'd think me cute, too, and scoop me up in her arms. There I was jealous over the attention and affection that my dog received from her. Watching him lick her face made me want to lick her everywhere.

I loved the sound of her voice, soft and feminine without being high pitched and too girlish. I couldn't imagine her nagging me in that voice, yet, if she did, I wouldn't care just to hear her talk. And she was smart, too, a college graduate working towards her master's degree in special education. I couldn't help but wonder, what's wrong with her? Surely, she has some fault, perhaps a hangnail or a crooked toe. No one can be this perfect.

She loved my dog because with all the running through the fields and frolicking down by the water, my dog wore out her dog. It's a rare dog that can wear out the lion hunter, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, but her dog was no match for the speed, agility, and endurance of my long legged Rat Terrier.

Polo is the new breed of Rat Terrier. Instead of breeding a Manchester Terrier, a Beagle, and a Fox Terrier, the new breed of Rat Terrier uses the Manchester Terrier, a Whippet, and the Italian Greyhound. Polo has the elegant poise and grace of the Manchester Terrier with the long legged speed and endurance of a Whippet and the narrow bodied agility of the Italian Greyhound. The closest dog to a mutt, but a short haired, non-allergic, pedigree without having all the health issues of a purebred, he's a wonderful dog and a great companion, even with children.

I'd walk with Lynn the distance of the three mile loop that was the dog park, sometimes, going twice around whenever the time and energy allowed. She made me wish that I was 25 years younger. Still, the difference in our ages didn't stop me from being her friend and from taking her away with me in my dreams that night or whenever I was alone and lonely. The essence of her always stayed with me, her smell, her smile, and her bright, hazel eyes. She was always with me in my thoughts, until I saw her again. Every time I saw her, she excited me as if it was the first time meeting her.

She made me recall the book by Milan Kundera, 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being'. Suddenly, I felt as if I was the main character, Tomas, rejecting Frederich Nietzsche's doctrine of eternal reoccurrence and his argument that in a world of objective meaningless, one must fall into nihilism unless one's acts recurs eternally, giving us a lightness of weight throughout eternity and, in effect, living forever. Who wants to live forever? Yet, if I could live forever with Lynn, I would.

My life, before meeting Lynn, was nihilistic in a way. With the onset of age and the state of the world with war, poverty, and despair, I began to believe that nothing is worthwhile and that life is pointless and human values are worthless. Now, suddenly, after meeting Lynn and imagining the possibilities that there is someone out there for me, who looks like her, fantasizing about her being part of my life, I felt a sudden lightness of being with hope for a new beginning and with her by my side in eternal happiness. I found love. Of course, for me, love is the lightness of being. Of course, I was just dreaming and being the foolish old man that I am.

Certainly, I'm no literary scholar, but the beauty about reading a good book or any book is that I take away with me, whatever meaning that fits my purpose and discard the rest. That's the beauty about being human; we're all so much alike, yet we're all so different in our thoughts and desires. Just as Tomas wanted a second chance at a new life with the woman that he loved by his side, I imagined Lynn was my second chance at reliving my life renewed.

Having made mistakes with my ex-wife gave me the experience not to make the same mistakes again with Lynn, only, the thought of her with me was such a heavy burden of supposition and a premature, preposterous proposition, at best, that it weighed me down with sadness, whenever I wasn't with her. I knew that being together as a couple with her would never happen, yet it was so very uplifting to imagine us together in love. Nonetheless, if the only time that I was to share with her was going for a walk with our dogs through the dog park, then so be it. At least for that hour, I was a happy man.

Still, desire haunted me and my lust for her tortured me. Realistically, why would she love me? I'm an old man compared to her. She'd certainly have emotional issues, a father complex, to fall in love with a man twice her age. Yet, if only she did, if only she could, and if only she would, I'd be so happy and I'd make her so happy.

Today, she looked a bit down, almost sad, only smiling when watching her dog interact with mine. She wasn't as talkative as she usually is, and I gave her more space without interrupting her thoughts with conversation. I didn't dare ask her what was wrong. I didn't know her well enough to intrude upon her private life and her troubled thoughts. Besides, I was happy just to be there with her. No doubt, I was a bit selfish in the fact that I didn't want to ruin my good time weighted down by the conversation of her bad thoughts. Yet, no matter, I wanted to offer her my shoulder. I wanted to offer her more than my friendship; I wanted to offer her my love. I wanted to reach down and take her hand in mine and walk away with her.

She was so very young. How old was she? I never asked her, but maybe, she was 25-years-old, half my age. Definitely, I'm old enough to know better and to know that she'd not be interested in a man like me, a man past his prime, and a man embittered by life and no longer carrying the torch of idealism. I was old enough to be her father.

Whenever she left me, after the brief time we were together, she made me feel old, vulnerable, and sad. Yet, when I was with her, when I was in her presence, I felt young, energetic, and alive. Her youth and zest for life rejuvenated me. She was my addictive elixir and my fountain of youth. Never has an hour gone by so quickly. Never has a walk through the woods of the dog park been so enjoyable, and dialogue between two people been so free, so easy, and so interesting.

"What's wrong?" I said finally, suddenly seizing upon the moment and feeling secure enough by the openness of our conversation in our quickly, growing friendship to ask what was troubling her.

"Oh, nothing," she said after a long, thoughtful pause, "just boyfriend troubles."

As soon as she said the word boyfriend, I was jealous. Suddenly, I pictured her naked and orgasmic in the throes of lustful sex, while in the arms of her young, hot boyfriend. The thought of his cock in her mouth and her blowing him angered me. I imagined him handsome, tall, and wealthy. Surely, a woman this desirable, this sexy, and this beautiful is most deserving of such a man as that. Suddenly, as if from out of nowhere, her boyfriend appeared before us.

To be continued...

Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 02



Chapter 02

Lynn accepts Freddie's housing invitation, after breaking up with her boyfriend. 

"Is this what you do? You meet men here." He looked at her with a face full of rage and at me with a look of deadly jealousy. "Is this the guy you always talk about?" He said pointing and shooting me a look of distain. "Are you Freddie?"

"Yes, I'm Freddie. How are you?" I put out my hand for him to shake and withdrew it, when he snubbed me with a lift of his chin.

Always talk about? She always talks about me? I've made an impression with her. Suddenly, I felt lighter, younger, and taller. Suddenly, I felt as if I was an important part of her life. Suddenly, I felt like Tomas in Milan Kundera's book, 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being.'

"Come home now! I'm sick of you disappearing for hours with this flea bag of a dog." He looked down at the dog with jealousy and then back up at her. "The dog must go. You decide; it's either me or the dog!"

I knew Lynn well enough by now to know that he was a goner with that stated ultimatum. She'd never part with her dog. She loved Seymour and Seymour loved her.

Her boyfriend wasn't tall. He was shorter than me by a several inches. He wasn't very good looking either, average in appearance, at best, with a potbelly and a receding hairline already forming at his young age. Figuring that he was around her age, he appeared ten years older. Maybe, tops, he was 28-years-old. I figured, surely, he was wealthy and was shocked to learn that he was an unemployed graduate student and an ill-mannered, hot tempered, struggling and aspiring artist, at that.

Stereotypically, he sure had the miserable and self-centered disposition for that role down pat. He sure was an asshole. He was so intense that he had the personality to be a terrorist, should his life suddenly turn as sour as was his disposition. He had that fanatical look of lunacy on his face, and I hoped it would by her choice in choosing the dog over him. Then, he took that choice away from her.

He approached her, as if I wasn't even there, while yanking her, pulling her by the arm, and dragging her forward with him. Her shoe popped off and when she stopped to reclaim it, when she resisted his hold on her by pulling her arm away and breaking free of him, he grabbed her by the front of her dress ripping it and exposing her bra and the top of her breasts.

Again, she pulled away from him. This time, he stepped forward and slapped her hard across her face. The violent force of his slap knocked her head back and immediately created a red welt in the shape of his hand on her cheek. I could see his fingers on her face. She didn't cry or scream or get angry, even. By her reaction to his slap, I figured that this wasn't the first violent attack, upon her person, by this bastard.

With her head down and her shoulders slumped forward, she suddenly became withdrawn, obviously disappearing within herself. That, no doubt, was how she emotionally protected herself from him. I felt her pain, and I'd be God damn, if he was going to hit her again, especially in my presence.

Her puppy, protecting his pack leader, lunged at him, but he kicked the dog hard in the ribs and the dog cowered whimpering away in pain. He was just a puppy after all, the poor thing. Try kicking a full-grown Rhodesian Ridgeback and he'll be missing a foot.

All of this happened within a few seconds and in shock of what transpired so quickly, I had no time to react, until now. He wasn't going to hit her again, ever, that's for sure. So long as I was there to protect her, he wasn't going to touch her, ever again.

"Hey!" I yelled taking an intimidating step towards him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Who are you, her father?" He gave me a look that made me realize that this clown only understands a baseball bat to the back of the head. "Get lost, old man," he said with a wave of his hand that discounted me not only as a human being but also as a man who could punch him silly. "You don't have a chance with her...Freddie. You're too old," he said with a sick laugh that made me want to shove his teeth down his throat and bury my size twelve shoe up his ass.

The way that he spit out my name made me angry. I wanted to bitch slap him into tomorrow. I was jealous that someone like him had someone like her. I felt my rage building.

"Don't," she said looking to me obviously embarrassed, before looking back at him. "He'll hurt you. He's crazy," she said in a whisper.

"You're just like all the rest of those middle aged men, who flock to her, a pathetic, old man hoping to get his cock sucked." He looked at her and pointed, "Look at her. She's a baby boomer magnet. Tell him." He looked at me, "That's how she made it through college, waiting tables, smiling for tips, letting the old men get a feel of her ass and a glimpse of her tits." He looked back at her, "Did you suck their cocks in the back alley, too?" He pointed to me. "Did you suck his cock, yet?"

"Hey, that's enough out of you!" I yelled pointing my finger at him, while dizzy with the imagined image of Lynn sucking my cock.

"Or what, old man?" He smiled a sick smile. "Or you'll bleed all over me, after I beat you senseless. I've had lessons in martial arts."

Old man? That's twice he said that. Beat me senseless? Martial arts my ass. No practitioner of the martial arts would ever hit a woman. He not only slapped the woman that I love but also kicked Seymour, called me old man, and now he's insulting my perceived woman. This clown is going down.

My dog loves Lynn and he wasn't about to allow him to get away with hitting her. The ankle biter that he is, he grabbed hold of his pant leg. In his feeble attempt to shake off the lockjaw grip and steadfast determination of a Rat Terrier, he reached down to grab my dog by the collar and Polo bit his hand three times, before he could even withdraw it. 

"Good dog. Good boy. That's a good dog, Polo. I'll give you a cookie, when we get home," I said with a laugh.

My dog is lightning fast. The ass actually tried to kick my dog, too. Now, he had gone too far and it was time for him to learn some manners from this old man.

"I'll take you to court and have your dog put down for him biting me," he said holding his bleeding and swollen hand. "You'll pay for this."

This guy was hopping mad. His face was red, his eyes were bulging, and he was holding his bleeding hand, where my dog bit him. Only, this time, he made the fatal mistake of ignoring me, again, big mistake. When he took another step towards her, I stepped in front of him. Easily, I outweighed him by fifty pounds. I have muscle mass on my side and he has no class on his.

When he reached out with his right hand to push me aside, an unmovable object, I decked him. Hitting him hard on his chin with a left uppercut, I knocked him up and off the ground and flat on his back. It was a textbook hit. I felt all of my knuckles find the soft underside of his chin. With a whiplash effect, the back of his head hit the ground hard and bounced. He looked dazed. Then, when he stood, he had limited use of his wobbly legs, other than to use them to take his ass out of the park. He came at me again but I stopped him with my index finger.

"Oh yeah? You going to make me pay? If anyone is paying, it's you," I said. "You never put your hands on a woman, dirt bag. Do you understand?" I said poking a long, straight finger in his ribs and turning it like a screwdriver for added excruciating pain. "And you're not even half the man that I am. You are a nothing but a loser, loser."

He got this deranged look on his face, a look that came from years of getting his way with no one challenging him. He turned away from me to look at her.

"Don't bother coming home," he said ignoring me and shooting her a look full of hateful rage.

"Don't worry. I won't," said Lynn. "We're done."

He turned to me with a look that told me that he was thinking about trying me again, but instead, he rubbed his jaw and stormed away.

"I'll leave your things outside the door in the hall," he said from a distance with a wave of his hand and without turning back to look at her.

She was crying, when I turned to her. Seeing her cry the way she did made me feel a hunger for her deep down in my soul. I wanted to protect and save her from him. I wanted to save her for myself. I wanted to free her from her pain and suffering. I wanted her.

"Don't worry. You're rid of him. He's gone. He's no good. No one should hit a woman. No one should make you feel less than who you are."

I put my arms around her and hugged her. She felt so good in my arms like she belonged there. I wanted to stay there holding her forever. What felt like minutes was only a few seconds. Her body, the little that I felt of it, her back, shoulders, and waist felt firm yet soft and womanly.

There wasn't a part of me that wasn't aroused. Softly, I kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear that it was okay and that everything would be alright. I wanted to reach down and cup her ass. I wanted to press my penis against her pelvis. I wanted to push her down on the ground and show her my deep, penetrating love for her. Yet, I controlled myself. I behaved. Tonight, when alone with the erotic thoughts of her, I'll imagine that I did all of those things and more. Tonight, when alone with my thoughts of her and with my hand around my stiff cock, she'll be naked in my imagination and she'll be mine.

She touched all my senses. Her hair smelling clean and fresh, the feel of her in my arms, and the sound of her vulnerability, as she cried softly against my chest, made me want to lean down, lift up her chin, and kiss her, but I controlled myself from making a fool of myself and kissing her. Tonight, I'll kiss her in my dreams. Tonight, when she comes to me in my sleep, I'll feel her lips and her tongue against mine.

"No, it won't be alright," she said suddenly through her tears and pulling away from me. "Now, I have no place to live. Where am I to go?" She looked up at me. "I have no money. I'm a poor special needs teacher. I don't earn enough to afford my own place," she said through her tears. "I teach Autistic children." She wiped at her tears with her hand. 

"Don't worry, Lynn, we'll think of something, temporary," I said without having any plan in mind, other than to soothe her.

"My Dad wanted me to go to school for business, for accounting, but I wanted something nobler and something more meaningful. I wanted to work with children." She nodded her head, "Had I listened to my Dad, I'd have had a better job, a job that could have afforded me my own apartment, instead of living with a psycho artist, who abuses me and treats me like shit."

Someone who lives such an altruistic life should not have such misery piled upon her head. She, who could model or make movies in Hollywood, gave her life to children with Autism. As a person, as a desirable woman, can she get any better than this? She was my Sister Theresa with movie star looks and a porn star body.

I had an idea that my penis suddenly liked. Suddenly, responding to the possibilities of her in my life, I had an erection. The timing of her sudden homelessness gave me a glimmer of hope that I could persuade her to expand our relationship from the dog park to my home and to the rest of my life. Perhaps, this serendipitous moment would work out for the both of us.

"Listen, Lynn," I said trying not to show my hopeful excitement, "You can stay with me for however long you need," I said hoping that she would say yes and hoping that she would never leave. I feared she'd say no, but what the Hell. I just blurted it, "I have a spare bedroom."

"Oh, great, just what I need being dependent on yet another man, who can throw me out at his whim."

"Nah, I'd give you a 30 day notice...in writing...before I kicked you to the curb," I said with a laugh.

She laughed, too.

"You live alone?"

In the way that she asked the question and looked at me made me feel like I needed to explain that I was not married, gay, a reclusive pervert, or a serial killer.

"I recently broke up with my girlfriend," I said looking at her to see how she received that bit of information. Some women are ugly criers, but even when Lynn was crying she was beautiful, especially when she was crying, so softly vulnerable, she was beautiful. Her flushed face gave her color that I imagined she'd have, after having orgasmic sex. 

"Oh, sorry," she said wiping the tears from her eyes with her hand.

"It's okay. It's been a year since my girlfriend left," I said mindlessly trying to replace baseball with the thoughts of Lynn naked and in bed with me.

As soon as I said that I broke up with my girlfriend out loud, I couldn't believe that it's been a year. I've been alone for a year. No wonder why I'm lusting over this child of a woman. I'm lonely. I'm pathetic. I'm hopeful she'll say yes.

I gave her my handkerchief to dry her eyes and blow her nose. Suddenly, feeling my age that I carried a handkerchief, yet, happy that I had one to offer her, still I wished that I didn't have one in my back pocket, along with my comb and the band aids that I carried with me, just in case.

"Thank you," she said.

"I'd love the company. Sometimes, it gets lonely with just the dog, and by our interesting conversations these past few months, we get along quite well." I smiled. "We've become friends."

"Are you're sure that I can stay with you until...?" Her voice drifted off when she looked down at her dog. "What about my Seymour?" She looked up at me. "What about my dog?" She started crying, again. "I can't leave my dog." She squatted down and threw her arms around Seymour sobbing.

"Don't worry about your dog, Lynn. I love dogs, especially Seymour," I said giving her dog's head a quick rub. "Besides, Seymour and Polo have become best friends. He's welcome to stay, too. There's plenty of room for all of us. I have a big fenced-in backyard where they can play..." all day, I wanted to say, while we remain in bed making love.

From where I stood and how she squatted with her dress hiked up and her knees separated, I had a clear view up her dress and at her white panties. As much as I tried to avert my gaze, as much as I tried not to look, I stared. I had a clear view down her torn dress and at her abundant cleavage and at the top of her breasts. Her body was magnificent.

My cock stirred again with the thought of seeing her naked and with the thought of her sucking my cock. Then, I thought about what her boyfriend had said, 'She's a baby boomer magnet. You're just like all the rest of them who flock to her, a pathetic, old man hoping to get his cock sucked.' Then, I thought of what I imagined her father would say about me, 'He's only after one thing.'

Sure, I'd love for her to suck my cock, but I'd like to think that I'm better than that and what we have is more than that. I'd like to think that this is the start of something unbelievable, beautiful, and what I have longed to have in my life, since I divorced my wife a dozen years ago. So what if she is half my age? It wasn't as if I was looking for someone so young, it just happened.

I followed her in her car to his house helping her to pick up and pack her possessions. She said that he was upstairs in his art studio hiding out, probably until we left. Then, she followed me to my house.

I haven't been as excited about Lynn, my dream woman, coming to stay with me, since the first time that I knew I was about to get lucky, so many years ago, and the first time getting laid. I mean, I had no pretensions or intentions of having a sexual relationship with her. She was so young, the same age as my daughters, probably, but she was so beautiful and we connected so easily. I could hear my daughters, now, in stereo, identical twins, both talking at the same time and saying the same things.

"Dad, what's wrong with you? Are you crazy? We're the same age. You're such a pig. I hate her. I hate you. Don't ever talk to us, again." Yeah, sure, that is, until they need money.

I've never been attracted to younger women, until meeting Lynn. She was different, more mature and certainly, with me being a bit immature, we met in age somewhere in the middle. Perhaps, I thought, this could work. Stop! She's a child. You're old enough to be her father or much older brother. That sounded better, a much older brother, than being her father. Yet, both rang too much like an incestuous relationship and a forbidden union. It was so taboo, after all, an older man with a younger woman. I could hear the whispering now, every time I walked around my small town.

"Is that his daughter?"

"No, that's his girlfriend."

"Shame on him," would say the women.

"Shame on him? Good for him," would say the men. "He's a lucky bastard."

Then, I thought about Michael Douglas with Katherine Zeta Jones. What was the attraction there? Surely, it wasn't the money. She could have had nearly any man. I thought about Tony Randall fathering a child at 77-years-old and a second child at 78-years-old? What a role model he is for us older gentlemen in helping to keep the possibilities of love and sex with someone much younger alive.

Suddenly, the image of the late Anna Nicole Smith with her now deceased, 90-year-old husband J. Howard Marshall did not bode well with my confidence of winning her affection. Suddenly, I felt like Arte Johnson, the incorrigible dirty, old man of 'Rowan & Martin's Laugh-in', making a pass at Ruth Buzzi. I felt a bit ridiculous, deciding instead to take it slow, hoping that it will happen naturally with time. After all, if it is meant to be, it will happen. Maybe, now that her boyfriend is out of the picture and she's coming to my house to live with me, I have a chance. Maybe, now, she'll give me rebound sex. I laughed at her fucking me day and night with rebound sex. Boy, I only wish, what a way to die? Only, I wanted more than that.

Chances are she'll stay overnight and be back together with her abusive boyfriend tomorrow. Chances are I'm going through something, a delayed middle-aged crisis, perhaps, with the one year anniversary of my girlfriend leaving me. Chances are she'll break my heart. Realistically, what are my chances?

It was a short drive to my house. I live at the end of a cul-de-sac where trees surround my property affording me a level of privacy to walk out on my front porch naked, if I so wanted, without anyone seeing me. Not that I would walk out on my front porch naked, who wants to see a 50-year-old man naked? Maybe, a 50-year-old woman would want to see me naked, but surely, not a 25-year-old, beautiful woman.

Most of what she had were clothes, old clothes, nothing new or special. She didn't have very much. She moved in with her boyfriend from her parents' home after college and he had everything that she needed: furniture, appliances, and dishware. Even the television set was his. At least, she had a car, an old Honda Civic, and could get around herself without being dependent upon me for transportation, although, if it meant her staying with me, I'd chauffeur her anywhere, anytime.

I made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Not having to share a bathroom, having her own, it was as if she had her own suite, which by her reaction to the accommodations was a favorable one. The arrangement afforded her a level of privacy, if she wanted it. At this point, I'd accommodate her in any way that would make her comfortable, and happy, and make her stay. Hell, I'd give her the master bedroom, my bedroom if that persuaded her to stay longer.

Almost giddy, I was off the floor with happiness that she was here with me in my house and in my little world, which now suddenly expanded to include her and her dog. I never knew how alone I was, until her presence filled my life with conversation, laughter, and joy. Now, I looked forward to the little things that became big things, when living alone. Now, I had someone to watch television with and to go places with. Suddenly, I wanted to go everywhere and do everything with her. I wanted to show her off to my friends. Yet, I dreaded the inevitable fall from this temporary high, when she left, one day, maybe sooner than later, knowing that it would come eventually and hit me hard, when it did. In the meantime, I decided to live in the moment and not to think about tomorrow and her leaving.




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 02



To be continued... 



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 03



She stood in my bedroom doorway clutching her pillow.  "May I sleep with you," she asked.

Now that she was here, there was so much I didn't know about her and so much that I needed to know, the little things that suddenly become so important, when they're missing from your daily routine. Does she drink coffee? What does she eat for breakfast? What time does she go to bed? What time does she get up in the morning? What does she look like in the morning without makeup?

There was so many things to learn about her. Which programs does she watch on television? Does she like watching baseball, the Boston Red Sox? What about football, the New England Patriots?  Basketball, the Boston Celtics?  Hockey, the Boston Bruins?  It was then that I realized that I needed to get a life, instead of living my live vicariously through the lives of professional athletes.

My quandary about her private life continued in my mind. What kind of music does she like? Which side of the bed does she prefer? Does she sleep in pajamas, a nightgown, or in the nude? I could only imagine the image of her sleeping in the nude. Okay, the last two questions, I admit, are premature, but maybe, if it was to come up in conversation, in readiness of her sleeping arrangements, I'd make special note of her preferences.

I helped her with her things, moving what she needed me to carry, lift, and move, and helping her to arrange the empty closet in the guest bedroom. No one has been here since my girlfriend moved out last year and before that, my twin daughters stayed with me, until they got their careers going. I was not only excited about having a roommate but also excited about specifically having her as a roommate. If nothing else, an understatement, it was someone to talk to on a daily basis. It sometimes gets lonely living alone and, as much as I hated to admit it, I was just beginning to get used to the quiet, emptiness that my life had become, without having a woman in my life.

I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at her, she was just so damn beautiful and I was so damn attracted to her that I could not help myself from staring. Afraid of ruining this temporary arrangement by making her feel uncomfortable, continually, I told myself not to stare at her but to play it cool. Only, inside, I was dying. I was dying to touch her, to hold her, and to kiss her. She consumed my every thought. I was falling in love with her.

She grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from her suitcase and came over to me and turned around.

"Would you do me the honors?"

It had been a while, since I've been with a woman and, at first; I didn't know what she wanted me to do. Then, she pointed to the back of her dress. I unzipped her dressed and was rewarded with a view of the back of her bra. Frozen in place, I stared at her back. I had a view of the top of her panty while imagining showering her neck and back with kisses. Then, I could not believe it when she leaned down, pulled up the hem and lifted her dress up and over her head.

She turned to face me and smiled. There she stood not three feet away from me in her low cut, sexy lace bra and bikini panty. As if she was standing before me fully clothe, she talked, as she dressed.

"You have a beautiful home, Freddie."

"Thank you," I said telling myself not to stare at her semi-naked, underwear clad body, but I wasn't listening to myself. I stared.  I stared at her bra and I stare at her panty, while wondering what were beneath those oh so thin and oh sheer silk and satin pieces of material.

Boy did she ever have a body. She had a Playboy magazine body, but without the phony tits. Everything about her was real, genuine, and sincere. Just as I thought that, I realized that I was putting her high up on the pedestal, as I did with my ex-wife. and as I did with my ex-girlfriend. You'd think that I'd have learned from the bad experience I had with my ex's. I needed to stop doing that. No doubt, she's just like me, human with all of her foibles, yet, she was worthy of that lofty pedestal position.  Only, one of the things that gets me going is seeing a shapely woman in her panties and bra and she was certainly shapely.

"I'm sorry," she said laughing. "Did I embarrass you?"

"No, no, not I all," I said, while thinking that arousing me was more the word.  "I have to sit down before I pass out," I said suddenly hot and waving my hand in front of my face, while discreetly making an adjustment to the position of my growing penis.  "Actually, yes," I said.  "I'm not accustomed to seeing a woman strip off her clothes in front of me."

"I've never harbored any inhibitions, when it comes to nudity." She laughed, again. "That was one of the things that drove my boyfriend nuts," she said shrugging her shoulders, before shimming her t-shirt over her head. "For an artist, he's such a prude." 

I figured from my first assessment of her that she was a very modest and private person. Now, I know better, I was wrong.  Already my pedestal that I had put her on had a crack in it. Yet, I preferred a woman, who didn't have too many inhibitions and was more open with her feelings. I watched her as she wiggled her round, panty clad ass in her jeans. I wondered if she was shaved, trimmed or bushy. Since there was no evidence of errant hairs or a dark shadow, I ruled out bushy.

"Prude? I'd more like to think of him as an asshole," I said with a chuckle.

"All of his friends have seen me naked," she said with a shrug.

"Naked?  Really? How?"

I figured her boyfriend forced her to strip naked.  More excited by the prospect of her giving me pillow talk of all the times that guys have seen her naked than by the thought of seeing her naked, there was something about her that drove me mad with sexual desire for her. Now, there's a glaring difference between a 50-year-old man and a 25-year-old man, older men are content to watch and to savor the sexual images, before jumping head first in the deep end of the pool, whereas the younger men always want to dive headlong without checking first for water.

More erotic in nature than pornographic, we older men appreciate the growing lust that colors our imagination and strokes our cerebral desire in time, whereas our younger counterparts are more concerned with the physical aspects of satisfying their penis with sex now, long before their brain has had a chance to catch up with their cock. We older guys play it cool longer, while fanning the flames of sexual desire to bring the passion of the woman to a warm glowing ember before we act.  Easier to extinguish with just a blow, forgetting about the heat, or lack thereof, of the woman, the young studs strike, when their flames are highest, long before the fires have permanently been stoked. Too quickly their flames douse, often times in a matter of minutes, while our fire still burns brightly years later.

"They always had an excuse to come over without an invitation, when they knew my boyfriend was painting me in the nude. I was slow to cover up and they got a show," she said with another shrug. "My boyfriend threw them out time and again." She looked at me with those blue-grey eyes. "I guess I could have been a nudist." She smiled, "I thought it was funny. Guys are so easily aroused."

Suddenly, I heard another, albeit longer crack in her pedestal.  I hoped for my sake that she could maintain her balance and not fall from the high height that I put her.

"Well, feel free to walk around in the nude," I said with a chuckle. "You're my guest and if you're more comfortable without your clothes, so be it. I'll force myself to tolerate you walking around naked," I said with a laugh.

"Thank you," she laughed, "but I don't want to give you the wrong impression of me, at least, not yet," she said giving me a sexy look.

As long as I live, I will never forget that look. That was her first look of serious, sexual interest in me. Sirens and alarm bells went off in my head telling me that I had a chance of a love affair with my angel.  Her boyfriend was wrong about my chances with her.  Having already moved her into my house, I'd say my chances of a love connection were good, very good.

"Unless you committed murder and murdered me," I said, "you could never give me the wrong impression of you."

"Want some coffee?" She said looking at her watch. "I usually have coffee this time every day."

"Sure," I said happy that she was a coffee drinker.

"If you show me where the kitchen is, I'll make it." 

I escorted her down the hall, through the dining room, and into the kitchen. She glanced outside where Polo and Seymour played.

"Are they okay?"

I stood a few feet behind her admiring the impression her round, firm ass made in her skin tight blue jeans.

"They're fine," I said removing my stare from her backside for fear that she'd catch me enjoying more the view of her ass than that of the pets playing out back. "They're having a ball."

I stood by the back window watching them play, while she played Suzy homemaker in the kitchen. It felt good having a woman in the house, again. I wondered if she cooked. It didn't matter, as I like to cook and, besides, someone who looks as good as she does, doesn't need to cook.

"Polo likes having a live-in friend," I said watching the dogs play. "And I do, too," I said looking at her and giving her a smile.

"Thank you for having me stay here with you," she said turning and returning my smile, before looking out the back window again to watch the dogs play. "Only, I don't know how much Polo will like him, once he's full grown because, judging by his paws, he's going to be a really, big dog, nearly as big as a Great Dane."

Her comment stunned me. She forgot about the past with her boyfriend, skipped the present with me, and talked about the future with us; at least, staying with me until her dog grew to his full size. That was several months away. I was on cloud 9 drifting off with sounds of Jimmy Buffet playing Cheeseburger in Paradise and with the thoughts of her shacking up with me for the rest of the year, at least, if not for the rest of my life. I was getting ahead of myself. One day at a time. She's here today and I can only hope she stay here tomorrow.

Nonetheless, there was no calming my excitement. The rest of my life echoed in my mind. I suddenly wondered how much longer I had to live. My father died at 90, maybe, I'll live to that age. Imagine 40 years of Lynn. I had goose bumps thinking of all the good times we could have and all the sex we could have in 40 years. I wondered if I could still get it up at 90, 80 or 70, even. Thank God for Viagra.

Once the coffee finished brewing, we took our cups out to the back screened-in porch to watch the dogs play. They never tired of running, jumping, leaping, and playing. We sat like old friends sipping our coffee, talking, laughing, and getting to know one another better. I reached out and touched her cheek where he slapped her. It was my excuse to touch her, to see if she was real, and to prove to myself that I wasn't dreaming and imagining her in my house. 

"That's gonna bruise," I said. Her skin felt so soft.

"I'll cover it with makeup," she said gently touching it with her fingertips.

"I should have given you some ice to stop the swelling." I touched her hand and kept it there when she did not move away. "I'm sorry that I didn't think to do that."

"I'm fine, really I am, thank you."

"He's done this before, hit you like that?"

"Yes, several times." She took a long thoughtful sip of her coffee. "I don't know why I stayed with him for as long as I did, but I had no place to go. I didn't want to go home to my parents and I couldn't afford a place of my own. I'm just glad he's out of my life and this time for good," she said looking at me with a sad smile.  "Thank you.  I'm grateful to you."

"It's okay.  Don't mention it.  I'm only too glad to help.  He really is a bastard."

"I knew there was a reason why you came into my life," she said, as if we were suddenly psychically connected.  She looked at me with a look that melted my heart and smiled. "I always believed that there's a reason for everything." She touched my fingers with her fingers and we sat there drinking coffee, watching the dogs play, and holding hands.

"Bastard! I hope I broke his jaw. I would've twenty years ago, when I punched my bag regularly. I would've knocked him out with that uppercut. Then, I would've stomped on his balls when he was down and out."

"Someone beat you to that, I think." She laughed. "He has a very demure penis."

I felt my cock stir hearing her talk about another man's package.

Her smile and her beautiful, erotic eyes touched my heart and I so wanted to lean over and kiss her. Only, I needed to fan the flame.  I didn't want to rush the fire by smothering it with my horniness.  She must have sensed the moment because she leaned over and kissed me. It was so surreal and I couldn't believe.  It was a short kiss, a peck really, but it was on my lips. It was so quick that I didn't have a chance to react to it and to kiss her back. I didn't even have the chance to close my eyes.  She caught me by surprise.

Our first kiss, the romantic that I am; I wished it had been longer with our naked bodies and tongues entwined in passion. I wished we were in a better setting than my back porch, somewhere with a sunrise or a sunset, perhaps, by the ocean, or atop a mountain, or in the valley by a scenic stream. Still, I was ecstatic for her sudden and unexpected display of affection.

Later that night, as I drifted off to sleep thinking about her sleeping in the guest bedroom, my hand found my cock and I began stroking it to a nice erection. She had made me horny all day, especially when she changed her clothes in front of me and especially when she turned to face me in her bra and panties.  She has a wonderful body, the best body these old eyes have ever seen.

I thought about slowly undressing her and when she was naked finally, asking her to turn from side to side, so that I could revel in the beauty of her naked body. I thought about her standing before me in her bra and panty, as she did earlier. I thought about her in those skin, tight blue jeans. Normally, I don't sleep in the nude, but tonight it was hot and humid and I was horny. Since I'm not a big fan of air conditioning, unless I really had to waste electricity to cool the house down, I run the overhead fans with the windows and my bedroom door wide open for the cross breeze. Still, even with that, it was uncomfortably warm.

I wondered if she was hot.  I wondered if I should switch on the air conditioning for her comfort. I wondered if she slept in the nude. I wondered if she slept with the bedroom door open. I wondered if she slept with the light on, with the bedroom door open, and in the nude. I thought about walking down the hall on the pretense of rechecking and securing the house for the night to see what I could see of her.  Hoping to catch her lying on her bed asleep naked, figuring, no doubt, that I would, and unable to control myself from staring at her naked body and/or touching her naked body, I thought better of it.

Slow and smooth is better than fast and jumpy.  The last thing that I wanted to do was to scare her.  The last thing that I wanted to do was to make her unduly uncomfortable.  The last thing that I wanted to do was to make her leave and flee my house in the middle of the night for fear that I'd rape her.  Slowly stroking myself, instead, I figured that I'd just masturbate my horniness for her in a tissue.  Then, when I looked up, she was standing in my bedroom doorway clutching her pillow against the length of her body. Quickly, I moved my hand away from my cock.

"I can't sleep," she said. "It's been a while since I slept alone," she said yawning. There was a long pause and she stunned me with what she said next.  "May I sleep with you?"

To be continued... 



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 04



Can I sleep with you?

Can I sleep with you? Am I dreaming? Did Lynn, the woman of my dreams, just ask me, the old perverted guy, if she could sleep with me?

Always breaking an uncomfortable moment with humor and always ruining my chance with a beautiful woman by saying the wrong thing, at the wrong time, a freight train of thoughts ran through my mind. Sometimes humor works, but most times it doesn't. Probably, it would more work for me, if I looked more like George Clooney and/or had his money. Only, I was a middle aged man with a head over heels attraction for a beautiful woman half my age.

No, Lynn, it's very inappropriate for you to sleep with me. How dare you ask me that? What is wrong with you? I'm old enough to be your father. You ought to be ashamed of yourself to want to put me in such a awkward and compromising position. How could you, a guest in my home, insult me by asking me a question like that?

Go away. I'm too upset to even talk to you. Get out! Get out of my room immediately. I can't stand to look at you, I'm so deeply offended. Please, return to your room, before I throw you out of my house and into the night the night to fend for yourself against, nocturnal creatures of all kinds.

As ridiculous as was her question, the retorts that I thought but, thankfully didn't verbalize, was just as ridiculous. Then, I wondered, what did she mean by wanting to know if she could sleep with me? Did she want to sleep or did she want to have sex?

"Yes, of course, you can sleep with me," as if she had just asked me, if I wanted a million dollars that she had found in her purse. Sleeping with her was like winning the lottery, anyway.

I moved to the side to make room for her, when what I really wanted to do was to move closer to the middle of the bed, so that she'd be butting up against me. When she passed by the moonlight that glowed through the open window, it revealed her shapely silhouette proving my suspicion that she was naked. Be still my heart. She's naked. Lynn, the woman of my dreams, is naked, in my room, and about to sleep with me in my bed. Thank you, Jesus! 

Being that I was already in the room, when she entered, my eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and I could make out more of her voluptuous body, as she climbed in bed beside me. My heart and pulse raced to beat one another in my desire for her. It was times like this that I wish I had a crash cart or a nitroglycerine tablet in case I had a heart attack. Code blue! Realistically, I wish I had taken a Viagra. Still, with her walking by the window like that, I didn't need a Viagra because I already had a solid erection.

It was all so surreal and I couldn't have imagined a better dream than the one that was happening now in real life. Earlier that day, we were out walking our dogs in the dog park and I was happy just to be in her company, even for only an hour and now, here she is in my bedroom and in my bed naked. Generally, after I'm out with her walking through the dog park, that night, just before retiring to bed, I masturbate, while thinking about her. If I had fantasized this scenario, I never would have believed it. I never would have believed that this lovely and sexy 25-year-old woman would want to be with this lonely and horny 50-year-old man. Something like this never happens to someone like me.

She got in bed beside me and even without touching me, I could feel the heat of her body. She was hot. She was so very hot. I wanted to touch her and to feel her everywhere. I wished that I could hold her in my arms and kiss her. Just with the thought of her with me, my cock grew without the touch of my hand, until it stood straight out and up. Even though I was sexually excited, I was embarrassed and thought about turning away from her, so that she wouldn't see my erection. Now, I knew the answer to both of the previous questions, when wondering about her. She sleeps in the nude and she prefers the left side of the bed.

"I hope you understand and won't be offended that I don't want sex," she said with a pause. "That is not to say that I'm not attracted to you."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it," I whispered. Now embarrassed again, I figured she saw my erection.

Truly, it did not matter. Of course, I would have preferred an intimate, sexual relationship with her, but a platonic relationship, one where we sleep together in the nude, will certainly do just fine. I couldn't wait for the morning light to see her lying beside me naked. I wondered if she'd mind, if I took a few candid photos of her.

"It's just that I only need comfort and, well, you've been so nice to me by allowing me to stay in your beautiful home, and suddenly, I feel so close to you, closer than I ever have with my boyfriend or with any man," she said pausing again. "And you make me laugh. Some of the things that you say are so funny," she said laughing, no doubt thinking of some of the funny things that I had said. She paused again and I could feel that she had more to say, so I didn't respond. "I like you, Freddie. I really like you. You have been so very nice to me and never have you taken advantage of me, even with me lying beside you naked. I feel safe with you. I never felt safe with my boyfriend." I felt her exhale a relaxed breath. "I know you'd never take advantage of me for sex."

Damn, what do I have sucker written on my forehead? Does she think me a eunuch? I didn't know how to respond to her. I stayed quiet for a moment digesting what she said. Suddenly, she made me wish that I wasn't naked. She made me wish that I was wearing underwear and was not lying there with an erection. Now, I felt that I had betrayed her trust. I felt like a pervert. I felt like the wretched lecher that I was. I could feel my erection softening.

"Sex? Yes, of course, I understand. Please, don't worry about that. Sex never left, um crossed my mind," I said and we both laughed.

"Only, if you don't mind, Freddie, can you hold me? I can't fall asleep without being held, first."

Can I hold her? Is she kidding me? This just gets better and better. She's asking a horny, naked, middle aged man to hold her young, naked, sexy body against my decrepit, wrinkled, naked body. My mind was racing with imagined images of me having sex with her.

"I'd love to hold you, Lynn," I said wanting to finish it with...forever. "Only," I said with a pause, "I'm naked."

"That's okay. I'm naked, too."

I opened my arm and she snuggled beside me laying her hand on my hairy chest. The heat from her hand made my penis pulsate. From what I could feel of her without touching her, she felt incredible. I focused on the part of my body that touched her body trying to discern the shaped of her breasts by the sensation of them against my ribs. It was then that I wished I was built like a spider with 8 legs, or in my case, 8 arms with 8 hands.

The feel of her naked tits pressed against my ribs made me want to reach down and cup them. It was torture and she was driving me mad with sexual desire for her. This cuddling without touching was tortuous and felt too much like a couple's sex therapy class. Holding her like this, without touching her, was so erotic and so frustrating at the same time. Her patch of pubic hair tickled the hairs on my thigh and I so wanted to reach down and finger her. Afraid to touch her, afraid she'd get the wrong impression, and I'd touch something that I couldn't resist not touching, I stayed there with my hands out and my fingers splayed. Going for broke, rolling the dice, and taking the gamble, I asked her the question.

"Do you mind if I touch you? I don't mean in a sexual way but—"

"Touch me? Yes, of course, you may touch you, silly," she said laughing.

Slowly, softly, and gently, as if she was breakable, I ran my hand along her shoulders, down her back, and down to the top of her ass touching the top of her ass crack with the tips of my fingers. I so wanted to feel her firm ass, to cup her sweet bottom, to squeeze it, and to allow my fingers to probe her further between her legs. She has a wonderful ass and I've been lusting over her ass, since I first met her. I so wanted to feel her tits and to finger her pussy. I so wanted to make sweet, slow love to her. Only, one step at a time. She was already in my bedroom naked.

"I like that," she said. "That feels nice. You're touch is relaxing."

Great, I thought. Instead of turning her on, my touch is putting her to sleep.

I continued giving her a light back and shoulder massage with my hand traveling from her shoulders to her back and to just above her ass. Would you mind if I turned on the light? I never sleep in the dark; I wanted to say, but didn't. I laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought, while imagining her in an examination room with a 1,000 watt light bulb overhead illuminating her naked body.

Now, turn to the side and move your arms over your head. Now, lay on your back. Open your legs. Wider. Wider. Raise your knees. I was crazy with the thought of her posing in all kinds of positions. I thought about her boyfriend painting her in the nude. Boy, what a dope he was to lose his beauty.

She moved her hand across my chest with her fingers playing with my chest hairs. Her elbow came in contact with the tip of my now semi-erect penis and it suddenly sprung to life again with her accidental contact. My cock, not giving a care who, when, and where he fucked, tried to fuck her elbow.

"You have a nice, hard body," she said slowly running her hand over my chest, shoulders, biceps, and stomach. "I like a man with muscles. My boyfriend was a wimp. He had no muscles at all."

When she reached down and felt my stomach, my cock pulsated against her forearm. I was hoping that she'd reach her hand down just a little further. I wished I could feel what it was like to have her small, soft hand wrapped around my big, hard cock, as she stroked me. I wondered what it was like to have her mouth on my cock, as she blew me. I couldn't help but think about making sweet, slow love to her and then to pound her body with the lust of my desire.

"Well, you aren't so bad yourself. From what I have seen of you in the moonlight, you have a very shapely figure."

"Thank you." She moved her arm away and my stiff cock bounced off her elbow again. My cock was determined to fuck her elbow. "Sorry, I've given you an erection," she said with a giggle. 

"It's okay. There'd be something seriously wrong with me, if I didn't have an erection with you lying beside me naked," I said laughing. "Being a heterosexual, horny man, I'm expected to become aroused, when a beautiful, naked woman crawls in bed with me to cuddle."

"Do you," she paused and it was a long pause that made me imagine every possible question that she was about to ask me, but never did I imagined her asking me this. "Do you want me to do something about that for you?"

"What do you mean?" As soon as I asked the question, I felt like the fool. I knew exactly what she meant.

Slowly, she moved her hand down my chest, along my stomach and touched my pubic hair with her fingertips, before reaching further down and taking my stiff cock in her hand. Her hand felt warm and soft, as if it belonged there. The excruciating length of time that it took her to slide her hand down from my chest to my cock was teasingly erotic. I think that I held my breath the whole time in sexual anticipation.

"I can relieve some of the stress of the day for you, if you'd like."

"What you are doing now feels wonderful," I said afraid to ask her to masturbate me. I mean, I haven't had a twenty-five-year-old give me hand job in twenty-five years.

Glad that she ignored my shy reticence, with that, she began slowly stroking me. The touch of her hand wrapped around my cock made me the hardest that I have been in years. She reached down and cupped my balls and then returned to holding and stroking my cock. She repeated the process several times. In the way that she fondled my cock and balls, it felt more like an erotic massage given to me from my personal, sex therapist than it did a sexual act. Lynn was giving me the best, slow hand job I have ever had in my life.

"Oh, Lynn, that feels incredible. Only, if you continue stroking me, you'll make me cum. I'm so very horny right now and have been ever since I met you."

There was a silence between us, but I could feel her thinking and knew she was about to ask me something.

"Have you thought about me," she said pausing, "naked?"

"Yes," I said instantly not even having to think about the answer.

"Have you imagined me touching you like this?" There was a slight quiver to her voice.

"Yes," I said suddenly feeling a bit awkwardly perverted.

"Did you ever masturbate," she said this time with a longer pause, "when thinking of me?" She asked in a breathless whisper.

"Lynn, I—"

"It's okay, you can tell me. I won't be offended. Matter of fact, communicating your sexual thoughts and desires excites me to know that you thought of being with me sexually, while masturbating to those thoughts." She laughed. "It's erotically intoxicating, when a woman knows that she drives her man wild with lustful desire for her.

I couldn't believe that she was getting turned on with this dirty pillow talk. I couldn't believe she called me 'her man'. Definitely, she was my kind of woman. Dirty pillow talk is paramount to putting me in the mood for hot sex. I just love a dirty girl, especially this pillow talking, dirty girl.

"Yes, I've masturbated, while thinking about being with you," I said glad that it was dark and she couldn't see me turning red and excited to be a participant in her pillow talk game. I felt foolish asking her the question, but I did. "Have you thought about me?" I said expecting her to laugh and to say, no.

"Yes, a few times, I wondered what it would be like to make love to you. I wondered what it would feel like to be in bed with you naked, as we are now, and with my hand around your cock as it is now."

"Did you ever masturbate when thinking about me?"

"Yes, I masturbated over the thought of you, after the first time we walked through the dog park. You were kind to me and made me laugh. That night, I touched myself with the thoughts of making love to you."

Oh, my God. She masturbated over me. I thought I was the only pervert to masturbate over anyone.

There was another silence as she continued slowly stroking my cock. Her hand felt amazing. She was so gentle and yet held it firm enough to give me the perfect tension. I could have not given myself a better hand job.

"What do you think about?"

"You know," I said, "the regular stuff." She continued stroking me only, now, a little faster, no doubt, either aroused that I masturbated over her or wanting to sexually excite me more with the hopes that I'd be more informative.

"Tell me. I want to know. I like this game," she said. "Did you think about making love to me? Did you think about eating my pussy? Did you think of me blowing you? Did you ever think of me sucking your cock? Did you imagine what it felt like to cum in my mouth?" She laughed. "Did you think of my tits and sucking my nipples?"

Oh, my God. Never have I been with a woman so forwardly sexual. The way she asked me those questions in rapid fire succession confessed that she was getting aroused, while giving me a hand job. Damn, as if sent from God, she was my Angel of sexual mercy. My kind of woman.

"Lynn, you are driving me nuts with all these questions." My cock was so hard and she was making me so horny with all this talk. "You're going to make me cum with all this hot, dirty talk."

"You don't like talking dirty during sex?"

Sex? Was that what we were having, after expressing telling me that she didn't want sex?

"Are you kidding me? I'm the master of dirty talk. I love talking dirty during sex. Only, you're going to make me cum," I said again.

"It's okay, Freddie, I want you to cum. That's the whole idea, after all, of relieving your stress."

She continued stroking me faster.

"Lynn," I said excitedly, "may I feel your body?"

"Yes, please, I want you to touch me, only not my pussy, not yet, not tonight." She laughed again. "I've been wondering when you were going to feel my tits and finger my nipples, only please don't suck them, not yet. I'm horny, too, you know, after stroking your cock while stroking your libido."

I thought that strange that she didn't want me to touch her pussy. I figured maybe she had her period or was getting her period or was not ready yet to take that step with me, an older man.

I reached down and felt her ass. I had been lusting over her ass. She had the best ass that my hand has ever felt. I loved feeling her ass. I couldn't get enough of touching her ass.

"You have an incredible ass, especially when it is highlighted in your tight jeans."

"So you like my ass, do you?" She laughed a melodious laugh. I loved her laugh and it was exciting to hear a woman laugh in my house again.

"No, I don't like your ass. I love your ass," I said with a laugh, while feeling the perfect round, firmness of her cheeks.

I reached my other hand over and across, and taking her breast in my hand, I fingered her nipple, while wishing that I could suck them. Her breast felt so soft, yet weighty and so very firm. Having been with women more my age, it had been many years, since I felt firm breast in my hand. All the women I've been with up to this point have been mature women, women who care more about their reading material than they do the condition of their bodies. Obviously, none of them had the supple body of a 25-year-old.

Even though she expressly told me not to suck them, I briefly touched her nipple. Her nipple was so very erect and they felt big between my fingers. I wished I could have seen what he breasts looked like. I wished I could have leaned down and taken her nipple in my mouth, but she had asked me not to do that, not yet, anyway. I so wanted to explore her pussy with my fingers, tongue, and cock.

"You have wonderful tits," I said. "The first time I saw your cleavage, was when your boyfriend tore open your dress. Seeing your bra, the top of your breasts, and your cleavage, made me so horny. You have that deep, natural line of cleavage that women pay plastic surgeons thousands of dollars to get."

"Do you really like my tits?" I watched the silhouette of her head look down at herself and I wondered how much she could see of me and of my cock.

"I love your tits."

"Touch my nipples," she said. "I know that I said for you not to go easy with my nipples but, I'm horny and I like having my nipples touched."

My fingers worked her nipples. Her nipples were so erect and her tits were big and firm. Fingering them, pulling them, turning them, and twisting them, I loved playing with her nipples. I couldn't wait for the morning light to show me her body. It took all the control that I had not to snap on the light.

"There's some tissue on the nightstand next to you," I said feeling the sensation that I was getting closer to shooting my load.

"Tissues? For what? I don't need to blow my nose," she said with a laugh.

"I'm getting ready to cum," I said, fearing that I'm make a sticky mess.

"I won't need any tissues, Freddie," she said sliding halfway down the length of me and taking me in her mouth.

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 05



Oh, my God! I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I couldn't believe that my gorgeous, dream girl, Lynn, was giving me a blowjob. Oh, baby, yeah, that's right, suck my cock. I was afraid to verbalize those thoughts for fear that she may be offended and stop.

She stopped and removed my cock from her mouth.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, this is great," I said hoping that I wasn't doing something wrong for her to stop blowing me.

"Well, you were so quiet," she said pausing and looking up at me with her hand around my cock inches from her lips. "Tell me what you want. It excites me to hear you talk dirty. The more you talk, the hornier I get, and the better the blowjob that I'll give you." She put my cock back in my mouth and I watched her looking up at me, while waiting for me to tell her.

Quiet? I guess I've always been quiet, while having sex. What does she want me to do, bounce up and down on the bed, while screaming as if I'm a woman having an orgasm? Nonetheless, I figured I'd be more verbally responsive.

"Oh, baby, yeah, that's right, suck my cock. Suck it! Lick my prick, Lynn. Blow me. I love it when you suck my cock. Suck, Lynn, suck it. Blow me baby," I said new at this and feeling ridiculous saying all those things to her.

"Freddie, suddenly, I feel like I'm playing second base for the Boston Red Sox," she said laughing. "There's a huge difference between erotic pillow talk and needless chatter."

We both laughed.

"Sorry, it's just that when you said the more that I talk the better the blowjob, I didn't want to miss out."

"Don't worry," she said with a chuckle, "you won't."

The more that I said how pretty she was, the more that I said what a great body she had, and the more that I said how good her blowjob felt, the more into blowing me she was getting. Accustomed to being around women my age, women who didn't appreciate my dirty pillow talk, Lynn was refreshingly exciting. Only, it would take me a while to get back in the pillow talking game.

She started making those loud slurping and sucking sounds that are such a turn on, when I'm getting blown. I love hearing those sounds as audio feedback showing how much the woman is enjoying sucking my cock. With her lying with me in bed naked, especially in the way that she looks naked or fully dressed, this was too much to wrap around my brain. If I had wanted to custom make a woman, Lynn was her.

Where did someone so young learn to give such a blowjob? How did she become so skilled and adept at sucking cock? Where did she learn the magical things that she was now doing to my cock with her tongue, lips, and mouth. Definitely, I was receiving the best blowjob of my life. I couldn't help but start humping her head and fucking her mouth.

I played with her hair and touched her face. I wished I could have snapped on the light. I touched the base of my cock with my fingers tips to feel her lips around my erection with my cock buried in her mouth. When I touched my cock and her mouth, it gave me the image that I needed to get more excited. She sucked me while stroking me and within a few minutes I shot a load of warm semen in her mouth. She took it all as she continued sucking me and swallowing every bit that oozed out of my cock. She licked me dry.

"Oh, fuck! Lynn! Jesus!" I held her head between my hands, while humping her head and fucking her mouth. I could not stop cumming.

"Hmm, that was good," she said licking a few drops of my cum from her lips.

"Can I do something for you?"

"No, remember, we agreed" she said. "I asked you to understand that I did not want sex?"

She didn't want sex? Other than in the mind of President Clinton, since when is a blowjob not considered sex?

"But, you just blew me. Isn't that sex?"

"That's just a blowjob between friends. That's not sex. Now, if you were to lay me, if we were to have intercourse and fuck, then that would be sex." She laughed. "If you were to stick that big cock up my ass, then that would be sex." She kissed my cock. "If you were to make me cum, then that would be sex."

"So, let me get this straight. If I cum, while you're blowing me, that's not considered sex, but if I eat your pussy and make you cum, then that's considered sex," I said with confusion. 

A real eye opener to the mind of the younger generation, her comment made me wonder how many friends she has blown. I found that information erotically exciting and hoped that she'd share that data with me in future pillow talking sessions.

"Yes," she said giving me that sexy smile that I could see even in the dark.

"Okay," I said still confused, but nonetheless sexually satisfied.

There's so much that I needed to understand about the younger generation. Back in my day, if I received a blowjob, that was paramount to a marriage proposal. Now that I think of it, anytime I get horny, I can ask Lynn for a bit of naked friendship and maybe, she'll understand and give me a blowjob. I like this not having sex thing. Now, I understand Bill Clinton's reasoning, when he was caught with Monica Lewinski.

As far as I was concerned, it was a unique situation and a fulfilling relationship having Lynn in my life. The weeks flew by with her sleeping beside me in the nude and with her giving me regular hand jobs and the occasional blowjob, after which, every time, I held her until she fell asleep. Believe it or not, my favorite thing to do with her was not the regular hand jobs or the occasional blowjob, it was holding and spooning with her, until she fell asleep.

I had forgotten how it felt to feel someone so young. Without a wrinkle on her perfect body, with her skin feeling so soft, she smelled so new. Do you know what I mean? She even smelled young. Her skin was so soft, yet so firm. Just touching her made me feel young again.

After being with Lynn, I could never go back to being with another woman my age. She ruined me for that. Every night, I stayed awake staring at her, while watching her sleep, until I fell asleep. She was so beautiful and, for that moment in time, she was mine and I was mad with desire for her.

Other than allowing me to feel her tits and ass, spooning together with my arm around her and my hand cupping her tit and fingering her nipple, while my cock was firmly pressed against her ass, she didn't want me to touch her pussy or to give her an orgasm. Still, holding her was what I loved doing the best with her, anyway, so I was happy. To me, foreplay was what connected me with her and the rest was anti-climatic. I just loved the feeling of her in my arms, the intimacy, and the closeness of cuddling.

We had yet to even French kiss and I so wanted to explore her mouth with my tongue. I desperately wanted to make out with her. I suspected she feared that if we started making out, she'd want to go all the way and she wasn't ready for that. Maybe with her boyfriend just dumping her, it was too soon.

Nonetheless, it was wonderful having her there with me. I looked forward to the mornings where we sat with our coffee watching the dogs play. The afternoons were the same sipping coffee, while watching the dogs, and talking. Now, instead of takeout food, Lynn cooked. Every night, she made something different and something delicious. She wasn't a great cook, but after living alone for a year, her cooking tasted way better than, what I was having delivered to the house most evening

After a while, our relationship changed. I felt it. We grew closer. There was a bond between us, only with me being so much older than her, I didn't know if it was a bond of love or just companionship.

Then, one day, it was a day like any other, when she looked at me differently than she had before. The change in how she looked at me was obvious, I thought. Only, I hoped I was reading her look correctly. Before, whenever she looked at me, she looked at me as if I was her best friend. Now, every time she looked at me, she looked like Cupid's arrow had found her heart, I hoped. She looked at me with love and as if I was her lover. We had been living together now for more than two months and Seymour was beginning to resemble a small pony in size. He was just a bit smaller than a Great Dane. Even for a Rhodesian Ridgeback, she was right, he was going to be big.

"I've been thinking about us," she said with a pensive look that frightened me at first. 

Immediately, I suspected the worst and thought that she was preparing to tell me that she was moving out and leaving me. Suddenly, sadness overtook my mood and I couldn't say anything but stare at her. I was in love with her. I loved her. Even though I was old enough to be her father, I truly loved the woman.

Nonetheless, it was gratifying for me to know that she was thinking about us and that she thought about us as a couple. Prior to this sudden conversation, I was beginning to feel like her man instead of her friend. Her man...I liked the sound of that. Only, now, I feared that it was over. Perhaps, she found someone more her age. If she did, I'd be devastated.

"I've grown to have feelings for you, Freddie. I've enjoyed our time together."

Oh, oh. Is this the kiss off? What is she trying to tell me? I was waiting and ready for the prerequisite but word that they say on the television show, The Bachelorette, when they're just about to give someone the boot.

"I like you and you're a wonderful person...but I don't see us continuing in this way."

Trying to keep a brave face on the outside, I was crying on the inside. I expected her to say that, I really did, but I was still surprised, shocked actually, to hear her utter the words. Fuck! I wish I wasn't so much older than she was. I wish I was younger. I wish she wasn't so damn beautiful. This is so cruel to have her in my life and to have to let her go.

Why? I thought we connected. What did I do wrong? What did I say wrong? What could I have done different and better to make her love me? All these things rushed through my mind at once.

I looked at her, listening to what she had to say without interrupting her thoughts, hoping beyond hope that this was not the end and that I was misunderstanding her meaning. I was having a difficult time reading her. I feared hearing the words that it was over. Now that I have experienced more of her, I didn't want to live without her. Now that our relationship had moved from acquaintances walking our dogs at the dog park to living together and sleeping in the nude together, I wanted more. I wanted it all. Hoping she wanted to continue, I hoped that this was her good-bye speech. I had cold sweats and my stomach soured with the thought of her leaving me.

"At first, I had a problem with the difference in age. You're almost the same age as my Dad," she said with a chuckle. "If he was to find out that I was shacking up with a man his age, he wouldn't understand. He'd wonder what he did wrong, no doubt, believing that it was his fault, somehow, that I needed a Daddy figure in my life. There is no way that he'd believe that I could ever fall in love with an older man." She frowned, "He'd be mad. He'd be disappointed in my choice. He'd try to dissuade me from being with you."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Lynn," I said not knowing what else to say.

What does she mean? Does she love me? She referred to the L word. Her mouth was moving, but I didn't hear what she said, after the word love in reference to me, an older man. I know that I love her and have loved her from the first day that I met her, when she appeared from behind some shrubbery with her puppy. I was sick to my stomach with dread. Fearing the rejection, I almost didn't want to hear what she had to say.

"He'd be pissed at me and mad at you."

She paused to look at me, while watching how I was receiving what she had to say. I remained motionlessly quiet, stunned actually, while waiting for her to finish. My emotions were a rollercoaster. Feeling ten feet tall with the thought and the hopefulness that she, indeed, had fallen in love with me, I felt crushed that she was leaving me, perhaps, for someone else, someone younger, no doubt.

"I know my Dad would want me to be happy and he never liked my ex-boyfriend. He thought he was a prick and if I ever told him that he hit me, he'd kill him with his bare hands." She smiled, "My Dad would like you and would be happy for me to know that you have treated me well, with respect, and have been very kind to me. I could see you being friends, good friends, with my Dad."

She walked over to where I was sitting and sat on the arm of the chair taking my hand in her lap. She mindlessly played with my fingers, as she thought of what next to say. I tensed trying to read her. Was her sitting beside me, while playing with my fingers a good sign or a bad sign. I hoped that with her relaxed body language and with her touching me was a good sign.

"Tonight, when we go to bed, I want to make love." 

Make love? She wants to make love with me. So, that's what this was about. I was ecstatic. I was in Heaven. She gave me such a soulful look that I had the urge to scratch her ear and pet her head. I've been around the dogs way too much and I don't think she would have understood if I suddenly said...Good girl.

"I never have intercourse with anyone unless I have strong feelings for them," she said giving me a look that melted my heart. "I stopped having intercourse with my boyfriend months before we ended it at the dog park. For me, it was over long before that day that he hit me for the last time." She lifted my hand to her lips and kissed my fingers. "I'm ready to take the next step with you, Freddie, that is, if you're ready to take the next step with me."

If I am ready? Are you serious? Pinch me, I'm dreaming. What time is it, 4pm? Can we go to bed now? Suddenly, I'm very tired, sleepy, actually. I can barely stay awake. I wanted to yawn, but didn't. I didn't want her to think that I was bored and not interested in all that she said. All of these thoughts flashed through my mind like an electrical current, but I didn't dare utter any of them. I didn't want to make light of the seriousness of our relationship and this moment, with levity, as always I do at the wrong time.

"Lynn, I couldn't be happier. Yes, of course, I want to see where this will go." I looked up at her and smiled. "I have feelings for you, too, deep feelings." I couldn't resist. I grabbed my cock and we both laughed. I couldn't help but inject some humor. It was suddenly feeling a bit melodramatic.

"I'm so happy, Freddie," she said giving me a kiss.

"In the short time that I've known you, you've touched my heart." I put my arm around her waist. "At first, my attraction to you was physical because of how gorgeous you are and because of how young you are. I am attracted to younger women. I was flattered to think that someone as beautiful as you, someone as young as you, would be interested in an old man like me."

I coughed pretending that I was feeble and she laughed. I loved her laugh. I loved making her laugh.

My hand lightly massaged her back moving from the back of her bra to the top of her panty, as I formulated my thoughts. I loved feeling her underwear beneath her clothes. I find it so erotic to outline her bra and trace her panty with my fingertips knowing what pure pleasure lies beneath those thin layers of silk and satin fabric. 

"Now, everything is so right with you, with us. Everything is so natural. I can't imagine you not being part of my life. I can't imagine you getting up and thanking me for my hospitality and leaving suddenly for another man, a younger man. That would kill me."

"That will never happen, Freddie. You're stuck with me," she said with a laugh.

"Well, if having you in my life is being stuck with you, I'm glad to be attached to you at the hip." I stood and grabbed my car keys. "This is an occasion to celebrate. I'm going to drive to the liquor store and pickup a bottle of champagne."

"Oh, goody," she said clapping her hands. "I love champagne."

"Tell you what; I'll stop by the market and pickup a couple of lobsters, too. Let's make this a night to remember."

With that, I was out the door and on my way to buy all the fixings to celebrate a new beginning with a new woman in my life. I was so happy.

In the excitement, I inadvertently left my wallet home. I didn't realize that I didn't have it with me, until I was standing in the checkout line ready to pay for the champagne. Normally, something like that, forgetting my wallet would put me in a foul mood, but I was in such a good mood that I didn't mind the drive home to get it. Even the thought of the return drive back to the liquor store didn't bother me, as it normally would have. Normally, just thinking about driving back and forth would have made me tired. Now, with her in my life, I felt younger and didn't feel as beaten down as I did before. Life, suddenly, with Lynn in it was good.

There was an old, battered pickup truck parked out front, when I pulled up to the house. I don't know why, but I sensed something wrong and instead of pulling in the driveway, I parked the next house down. The trees in front of my house gave me plenty of cover, enough to sneak around back where the back light was on and where I heard voices. It was him, her damn ex-boyfriend pleading his case and wanting her to take him back. How he found where I live, I have no idea, but it took him more than two months to do it. Maybe, he followed us home one day from the dog park. Wanting to know if she was still interested in him, I stood there listening to them.

"Lynn, I know I screwed up. I treated you like shit and called you names. I hit you. And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry, Lynn. I'm so sorry. I really am so sorry" he said.

He was just inside the back porch with one foot on the top step. He was standing with his back to me and she was sitting in front of him with his body blocking her view from seeing me peeking around a tree. I was glad that she didn't allow him in the house. I figured he must have come around back, when she saw who it was and didn't answer the door. "I love you. I'm lost without you. Please, come home. Please, let's give it another try. I love you, Lynn."

"I'll never go back with you. I don't love you. It's over between us." In the way that she said that, cold and detached, I believed her. Only, I hope I never hear those words from her lips. Then, she said it. "I'm happy with Freddie. He's good to me. He makes me laugh," she said smiling. "And I love him."

When she told him that she loved me, it sent goose bumps down my arms. She loves me. Roses are red and violets are blue, Lynn loves me and I love her, too. She really loves me.

Only, the look on her boyfriend's face was instant rage. Lynn didn't see it, but I did. He covered himself almost immediately with his sincere and trusting face. This guy was a sick bastard, a real psycho.

"Lynn, I'll be good to you," he said taking a step closer to her. "I'll treat you better. I promise that I'll never hit you, again."

"You'd better leave, John, before Freddie gets back," she said practically growling at him. "He's not going to like you on his property. And I can't be responsible for what he does to you, especially after I told him that was not the first time you hit me."

John. His name is John. Funny how she never mentioned his name and I never asked.

"Fuck him! Who the fuck does he think he is?" Instantly, he turned from the apologetic boyfriend to the raving, lunatic artist that he really is. I was so glad that she saw through him and realized who he really was, a real prick. Some people will never change.

"You'd better go, now. Freddie will be here any minute."

"He's an old man. What's he going to do to me? He got lucky that day, when he hit me. I wasn't expecting that. He sucker punched me and if he ever tried that again, I'll kill him." He took a step towards her; actually, walking onto my back porch. He lifted her up off the chair and pulled her out the back door. "You're coming home with me, now." 




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 05



With the dogs barking their heads off in the fenced in backyard, he never heard me walk up behind him.

To be continued...




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 06



Freddie rescues more than one damsel in distress, when Jamie is at the front door.

"John! Let go of me!" She said pulling away from him.

Sneaking up right behind him, with him so focused on hitting her, when he lifted his arm to slap her, I broke it. It was a loud snap and he fell to the ground in pain. Once he was on the ground writhing in pain, I pummeled him with kicks to his head and torso until he got up. He took a wild swing at me with his unbroken arm and tried to kick me to no avail. I assaulted his face with punishing blows that knocked him senseless. Blood exploded from his nose, when I broke it and I heard his jaw break, too, when I served him a final uppercut. Had I been younger and stronger, I would have killed him. Thankfully, I didn't. No doubt, he'll be drinking his food through a straw for a while.

I was so angry. How dare he come to my house? How dare he hurt my Lynn? She was my Lynn now, the love of my life. No one was going to hurt my Lynn, especially not him. He's hurt her enough.

Only, he wasn't worth spending the rest of my life in prison. The punishment that I gave him was payback for all the times that he hit my Lynn and I was glad to have her see him get the beating that he so deserved. Somehow, I managed to stop myself, before I crossed the line and hurt him mortally. I hadn't given someone such a beating, since I was in a barroom fight, when stationed overseas in the Marine Corp half a lifetime ago.

After I beat the crap out of him, I picked up his lifeless body by his ear and balls, stuffed him back in his truck, and called the police. The police arrived within five minutes and arrested him for trespassing and assault on a woman. The cop who took the call was an old friend and wrote in his report that I was protecting my property and defending my girlfriend. The next step was to take out a restraining order on his ass, which we planned to do on Monday.

After the police took him away and towed his truck, I took Lynn by the hand and we both went to buy the champagne and lobsters together, which was what I should have done before, as a couple in the first place. There was no way that I was leaving her out of my sight, again. Safe with me, there was no way that anything like this would happen to her again. 

As a couple...it had a nice ring to it and the words echoed in my ear in the way of wedding bells. Ring...I thought about buying her a ring, not an engagement ring but more of a friendship ring. Only, it was too premature. I'd love to buy her a diamond, but I didn't want to rush anything and scare her off. Let's start with some French kissing and hot sexual intercourse first, I thought to myself, as we drove home from the liquor store. Instantly, I had an erection with the thoughts of French kissing her and making love to her.

Lynn, true to her word, was quite fond of champagne. We nearly finished half the bottle, a Jeroboam, equal to 4 bottles, with our lobster. After dinner, we skipped dessert. I had picked up a mouth watering strawberry shortcake at the bakery, her favorite. It had puffy clouds of white, whipped cream and fat, red juicy strawberries. It looked delicious. Only, once we started kissing, French kissing, our appetite for food was replaced with our appetite for sex.

We barely made it to the bedroom removing one another's clothes, walking as we kissed and kissed. She was a great kisser. the best kisser. Never have I known lips that have made me so wild with passion. Her lips were so full and her tongue was so teasingly delightful. Between her reaching down and feeling my cock and her kisses, she made me hot with desire for her. She blanked my mind with her soulful kisses. Now naked and aroused, we fell back on the bed and as I tried to mount her, she pushed me off and mounted me. She was wild with desire.

Man, she was energized. What a woman? What a woman? Oh, my God, what a woman? As soon as she was on top of me, she reached down and inserted my hard cock in her wet pussy. She was so wet that it just slid in, deep inside of her. It fit solidly tight, as if it belonged there. She gasped when my cock inserted itself deep inside her pussy and then she smiled.

"Oh, you're so big." She wiggled her ass. "It feels so good." She leaned down to whisper what I wanted to hear. "My boyfriend's cock was just an appetizer compared to your python. This..." she said wiggling her ass, again, "is the main course." She kissed me and before raising herself up again to hump me, she whispered in my ear, "Fuck me, Freddie, fuck me real good. I want to be fucked by you."

What is it with dirty talk and with pillow talk that is so arousing? She made me crazy with desire for her. I loved the fact that talking dirty aroused her.

With her hands pressed against my pectoral muscles, she rode me. Never have I been with a woman who's moved her hips as much. As if she was riding an amusement ride, she moved them up and down, front to back, and side to side, then all over again, while changing the routine with surprising creativity and heightening, speeding, and slowing the rhythm of her movements. She was amazing. She rode me with her knees firmly planted in my ribs like she was riding a wild stallion bareback, which now that I think of it, she was. She made me feel as if I was one of those Sybian sex machines that Howard Stern cajoled Carmen Elektra and Pamela Anderson into trying. She was humping me and pumping me for all that I was worth.

She was so tight and so proactive with her sexual participation that I've never been laid like this before. I could feel myself getting ready to cum. Quickly, I stopped the feeling by thinking of something else. I thought of the beating that I gave her loser boyfriend. Only, that made me even more excited. With such force, such rhythm, and such speed, Lynn was humping me like I've never been humped before, then...as if she was a bride on her Honeymoon, she cam violently. First she screamed and then she whimpered. As if she was dying from being pierced by a sword, she put her head back, gave out a soft sound, and her whole body tensed, before shuddering and shaking. She collapsed beside me on the bed in a sweating heap.

My turn. I rolled over on her, inserted my cock in her, and pounded her. I wanted to make her cum, again. I wanted to take control. I wanted to give her another orgasm, my orgasm. I watched as her tits danced to my humping movements. I love her tits. She has wonderful tits. I leaned down and sucked her nipples, first one, and then the other, as I fucked her harder and harder and faster and faster. Then, we kissed and kissed.

I soon found out that we both love kissing, while fucking. She delighted in my ability to pound her pussy with my stiff cock and, just as I was ready to explode, she had another orgasm, then, we had one together. She dug her fingernails in my ass and then wrapped her arms and her legs around my back, while holding onto me for dear life. It was magical. It was outrageous. It was the best sex that I have ever had in my life.

We lay there sweating and feeling all fuzzy warm and cozy, while sipping more champagne, when the doorbell rang. Even after eating a big meal, I was definitely feeling the effects of the champagne and I imagined that Lynn, weighing almost half as much as me, was a bit tipsy, too. I didn't want to get up. After having hot sex with Lynn, I just wanted to stay in bed, close my eyes, and go to sleep.

Reluctantly, I got up, grabbed a towel, and held it in place around my torso, as I headed for the front door. I figured maybe it was my friend, the cop, needing more information. I had taken a Viagra and my erection was still quite noticeable behind the towel. Definitely, I'd have an erection for a couple more hours. I opened the door not knowing who'd call at this time of night. It was Jamie, Lynn's best friend. Although this was the first time meeting her, I recognized her from the photo of the two of them that Lynn kept on the nightstand.

As soon as I opened the front door, she took a step inside and collapsed in my arms. When I went to catch her, I lost my towel and, as she slumped in my arms, I felt her hand brush by my cock. Being the horny guy that I am, I looked at her, while wondering if her touch was accidental or on purpose, but her eyes were closed. Being the horny guy that I am, while holding a second, beautiful 25-year-old woman in my arms, I suspected that her touch was on purpose. Nonetheless, if her touch of my cock was accidental or on purpose, the touch of her hand on my naked erection felt good and I looked at Jamie with a different eye, with a lustful eye, and with an eye that would widen soon at what I was about to experience.

She had been badly beaten. I figured it had been Lynn's ex-boyfriend, who had assaulted her, the prick. Now, I was even happier that I had given him the beating of his life; he'll have even more charges pressed against him Monday morning. Beating it out of Jamie is how he found out where we lived, no doubt. I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Only, when I went to lift her, her arm remained squeezed between her body and my body with her hand in constant contact with my cock. Boy did that feel good having another 25-year-old woman touching my cock with her hand.

We guys are incorrigible and even though I already had one beautiful, naked 25-year-old woman in bed with me, in my horny guy thinking, I was hoping she'd wrap her fingers around my erection and stroke me. I laid her down next to Lynn, who was also still naked. Again, I felt her hand lightly travel the length of my cock, as I gently set her down on the bed. I gave her another look, but her eyes were still closed. Was her touch accidental or was she teasing me? Then, as if depressing her on switch, her eyes popped open and I watched, as Jamie's eyes went from my stiffening erection to Lynn's bare breasts. It was then that I decided that her touches were no accident.

Never in my wildest imaginings would I have fantasized about what was to happen next.

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 07



Chapter 7

Then, there's a threesome with Lynn and Jamie and with me in the middle.

It was surreal, there I was naked with an erection while Lynn, naked too, barked orders at me.

"Get some ice and a wash cloth. And get some antiseptic and some band aids. And bring more pillows."

I've never purposely exposed myself to a woman before, but after the freeing feel of parading around in front of Jamie naked, a gorgeous young woman, who I had never met until now, was surreal. With her looking, with Lynn not complaining, and with me enjoying the exhibitionism, I had no intention of covering myself. Exposing myself felt too sexually wicked. This was my house after all and if I wanted to walk around naked, I would. Besides, Jamie was an uninvited and unexpected guest and no one was complaining and asking me to cover up my nakedness.

More embarrassed by my nakedness than they, obviously were, I was sexually excited at the same time, as the stiffness of my cock pointing straight out confirmed. Every time I caught Jamie looking at my erection it made me more excited to the point that I wanted her to stare at my cock. I wanted her to reach out her hand and touch my cock. In the way that Lynn had given me a slow hand job, I wanted Jamie to stroke me, too. Maybe it was the Viagra and the champagne, but unable to stop the flow of my sexual fantasies, I wanted her to put my cock in her mouth, as I touched her everywhere. My sudden lustful desire for Jamie now controlled my brain.

There I was with my beautiful Lynn lying naked in bed and, suddenly, I was lusting over her equally as hot, but not as beautiful friend. What is wrong with me? Maybe it was the champagne that made me so terribly horny suddenly. Maybe, it was the Viagra in combination with the champagne. I wondered now if I was not supposed to drink alcohol when taking Viagra. I wondered if I was going to suddenly turn into a depraved sex fiend. Nah, I was that already.

I wondered if I was going to have a heart attack and die from all this sudden excitement. First Lynn tells me she loves me. Then, she tells me she wants to make love. Then, her boyfriend attacks my baby. Now, this, Jamie in my bedroom with Lynn and I naked.

I was running back and forth from the bedroom to the bathroom with my cock bouncing up and down and side to side. I watched her eyes focus, while staring at my erection as if she was watching a game of ping pong. It felt so wickedly exciting and decadently delicious to have Jamie, another 25-year-old woman, staring at my prick and she did stare at my prick, because I caught her looking at it more than a few times.

She seemed to be fascinated with my cock. Maybe, my cock was the first 50-year-old cock she had seen. Maybe, my cock was the first uncircumcised cock she had seen. Although she tried to be subtle about looking at my penis, she was definitely looking at my erect penis and the more she looked, the more aroused I became and the more that I wanted her to look.

Apparently, Lynn didn't think anything of being naked in front of her best friend nor did she care that I was naked too. That was weird, so weird. Any moment I expected her to admonish me for exposing myself to her best friend and yell at me to cover myself, but she didn't. Any moment I expected her to look at me and view me like the pervert that I am and how most guys are, but she didn't do that either. Just as was Jamie, Lynn was enjoying the show of my cock, too.

Maybe, she felt that this was a medical emergency and that all taboos went out the window in first caring for Jamie. Maybe, after this is over, Lynn would be upset with me that I paraded naked around her best friend and I'd have Hell to pay, but I was surely enjoying the situation that I was thrown in now. Maybe, Lynn was like me, a little drunk, and just didn't care. Maybe, Lynn was a voyeur and an exhibitionist and got off on the idea of me exposing myself to her friend.

Then, I thought about how Lynn was constantly and continually being caught naked by her ex-boyfriend's friends. I wondered if she felt the way that I felt now, embarrassed and excited at the same time. I wondered if she did exposed herself on purpose and if the feeling of exposing herself was intoxicatingly addictive, in the way that I was feeling about it now. Again, I wondered if she was an exhibitionist. I wondered if I was an exhibitionist and didn't know that until now. I wondered if it, somehow, turned Lynn on to have her friend see me naked, which made me wonder if Lynn was a voyeur. Although, I'll have to take care in how I broach the subject, so that she doesn't think me more of the pervert that I am, I'll have to ask her about that with our next pillow talk session.

Some guys would be insanely jealous, if another man saw their woman naked, but it excited me thinking about all those guys seeing Lynn's naked body. She has a beautiful body and she told me about a couple of her ex-boyfriend's friends, who'd always return for another peek, even after being verbally brutalized and threatened with physical harm by her ex-boyfriend, if they returned without an invitation again. During our pillow talking sessions, I had her describe her ex-boyfriend's friends to me and tell me about their reactions to seeing her naked. I had her tell me about all of that, while my cock was buried deep inside of her and having that conversation with her, while having sex with her, always made me swell. Just as it made me, it made her excited to talk about exposing her naked body to men.

This was all so very new to me. I felt so free and alive being nude. Even though what I was doing was a bit perversely perverted, walking around naked and exposing myself to my girlfriend's best friend, for some reason, I didn't feel like the degenerate that I am. I felt more like a hot stud. I felt like I was one of them, someone their age, a young man in a unisex college dormitory.

My modesty and inhibitions melted away with every flash that I gave Jamie. Moreover, now I wanted Jamie to look at my cock. I wanted her to see my big prick. I wanted her to see me naked. I wanted her to want me and to desire me. I wondered if seeing me naked was making her hot and wet. Just as I wondered if seeing me naked was making her want me, I wondered if seeing my cock was making her as horny as it was making me.

Who knows, maybe we could have a threesome. As soon as I thought it, I buried the thought. How could I possibly think about cheating on Lynn with her best friend? Wait, is a threesome cheating? Besides, Lynn and Jamie would never do one another, would they? They'd never have lesbian sex, would they? They'd never eat one another's pussy. I wondered if they would. Yet, what if they already have? The thought of a threesome with Lynn and Jamie was so very sexually arousing.

Still, I was disgusted with myself for even thinking about having sex with Jamie. For sure, it must have been the combination of Viagra with Champagne to make me feel and think this way. Suddenly, I wondered if having sex with a hot 25-year-old recharged and somehow boosted my Testosterone levels. Only, now that I was intimate with Lynn, now that I fucked Lynn, I was curious about Jamie and wondered how she'd measured up to her.

Jamie was a bit out of it and Lynn propped up a bunch of pillows, behind her head and back to make her more comfortable. Jamie kept closing her eyes, but I could tell that she pretended to close her eyes, so that she could stare at my cock through her partially opened slits. Her attention that she paid to my naked body made me so horny. The focused attention she paid my big prick made me feel like the man that I used to be.

"Did my ex do this to you?" Lynn held her hand, while questioning her.

"Yes," she said in a pained murmur while Lynn cleaned up the dried blood from her mouth, nose, and ears.

"Where else did he hit you, Jamie?"

"He kicked me in the ribs, the stomach, and stomped on my ass. He hit me everywhere. He just kept hitting me, beating me, and kicking me until I told him where to find you."

I couldn't believe it, when Lynn began undressing her in front of me. I couldn't believe it, when Jamie put up no resistance. I didn't blink for fear of missing something. I wanted to capture this moment, to replay it all back in my mind on those days, after Lynn, no doubt, dumped me, when I was alone and horny. It certainly created for a hotter moment, when Jamie stared at me, as Lynn carefully undressed her and slowly revealed her hot body to me.

I wondered if Jamie was getting off at me seeing her being undressed, as much as I was getting off seeing her being undressed and as much as I was getting off with her seeing me naked. I wondered if Jamie was as much of an exhibitionist as I was a voyeur. It was so hot to watch Lynn undressing Jamie. I wondered if Lynn was getting off on exposing Jamie to me.

I just stood there and stared. It took all the self-control that I had not to reach down and start stroking myself, as I watched Lynn exposing Jamie's beautiful body to me. I don't know if Lynn realized that I was there watching or if it just did not matter, since I had already been standing there with my cock at full erection in front of her best friend, anyway.

I couldn't believe it when Lynn started unbuttoning Jamie's blouse. Now, Jamie is almost as hot as Lynn. She is a good looking woman with a rack a cup size bigger than Lynn's. When Lynn unbuttoned Jamie's blouse, she flayed it open. Her bra, cleavage, and big bra clad breasts were there before my horny eyes.

There before me was Jamie's big, white, lacy bra. Her erect nipples already made a big imprint against the sheer, lace fabric of the material. Obviously, seeing through the sheerness of her bra, whereas Lynn's nipples were pink, Jamie's nipples were brown. Clearly, I could see their impression through her bra. Her tits were a definite C/D cup as Lynn's was a definite B/C cup, and Jamie had great cleavage. I only wished I could have gotten a look at her tits. Remove her bra, take off her bra, show me her tits, I continually said to myself, while hoping that Lynn would psychically receive my thoughts and act on them.

"Freddie, look, she's bruised all over."

I stepped closer to the bed staring at Jamie's bra covered tits pretending to examine her bruises. The closer that I came to her, the larger my eyes swelled to encompass her big boobs. I just wanted to lower myself down to Jamie and nuzzle my nose in her cleavage. She had beautiful cleavage, the kind of cleavage that women would kill to have or pay thousands of dollars to get. Then, Lynn unzipped Jamie's jeans and slowly pulled them down. Oh, my God, I thought I was going to faint, when I saw the top portion of Jamie's blue panties. It can't get any better than having my hot girlfriend strip her hot girlfriend down to her panty and bra. I could have sold tickets to this party.

I was treated to a show of Jamie's sheer, blue bikini panties and I couldn't believe it, when Jamie's panties came down with her pants and exposed the top of her trimmed patch of dark brown pubic hair to me. When I saw Jamie's pubic hair, I wanted to dive in bed and start licking her pussy, before burying my cock in her. This slow strip show was making me so freaking horny.

"Freddie, help me remove her jeans."

Am I dreaming? My hot girlfriend wants me to remove her hot girlfriend's tight jeans.

"Okay," I said, while still staring.

Okay, no problem, Lynn. I'll just grab her jeans by the bottom of her legs and pull. Oops, her panties are coming off with her jeans. Darn. Sorry, Jamie, I wanted to say. I won't look...too much.

My mind was filled with dirty thoughts. I was so glad that none of what I was thinking slipped out of my jaw dropped mouth. I continued removing Jamie's pants without bothering to pull up her panties and Jamie didn't reach down to make any attempt to cover her nakedness nor did Lynn. Jamie watched me watch her. Are you kidding me? If this was not so erotically hot, it would have been bizarre. My cock continually went from a semi-erection back to a stiff erection over and again.

"Look Freddie, her legs are all bruised, too," said Lynn pointing at Jamie's bruised legs, while inviting me to look closer.

I had a hard time looking away from Jamie's pussy slit, but I did to look at her shapely but bruised legs. While leaning down to inspect her bruised thighs, I was close enough to her pussy to inhale a sweet whiff of Jamie's sweet scent. I put my hand on Jamie's thighs turning them and spreading her legs a little, as if I was a doctor conducting a thorough medical examination. I allowed my knuckles to gently brush her pubic hair repaying her the sexual teasing favor, when her hand gently but seductively brushed by my cock, as I carried her in the bedroom and put her down on the bed.

If nothing else, Jamie, like Lynn, had nice legs and, just as I already had with Lynn, I imagined myself parked between Jamie's legs, while licking and fingering her oh, so young and oh, so forbidden pussy. Both women were very athletic having participated in dance classes, gymnastics, ice skating, and track and field events, all through their lives together, as childhood friends. I stared at Jamie lying in the middle of my bed semi-naked. She had a nice body. Only, she was not as pretty as Lynn. Still, I'd never kick her out of bed for eating crackers, that's for sure. She was no dog by any stretch of the imagination. Only, when seeing them side by side with Lynn, she paled in comparison. On a scale of 10, Lynn was a ten and Jamie was a nine.

Had she been alone on the bed, there'd be no issue with her not being as pretty as Lynn. Lynn was so pretty that she made everyone else look bad. If you were to see Jamie out and about without Lynn's shining star stealing the spotlight of attention from her, any man would definitely hit on Jamie. Yet, when I've been drinking champagne and my girlfriend's best friend is there before me in her bra with her panties down around her thighs, while I'm standing there naked with a Viagra induced erection, Jamie looked damn good to me.

"Jamie, Honey, turn on your stomach, so we can see your back," said Lynn.

Jamie turned and Lynn pulled down and removed her panties. What the fuck! Are you kidding me? I was in shock. I couldn't believe it when she did that. Suddenly, my cock went from semi-hard to hard, as I stared at Jamie's round, firm ass. Damn, she has a nice ass, as nice of an ass as Lynn's. I so wanted to slap that ass, fondle that ass, caress that round, sweet ass, kiss that ass, and fuck that ass. I wanted to lick that ass. Her ass was smokin' hot. I'd give anything to tap that ass.

"Freddie, do you have a digital camera? We should take some photos of her bruises for the police."

What? C'mon. Is she serious? No way. She wants me to actually take nude photos of Jamie? Okay, where's the camera. Am I on Candid Camera? Is this a joke? Are we making a porn film? Yeah, prop Jamie up on her knees and bend her over, so that I can get the whole, hole shot, too. The police are going to love these candid photos.

I couldn't believe that Lynn wanted me to take nude photos of Jamie. By the time I returned with the camera, Lynn had already removed Jamie's bra and turned her back around. My psychic thoughts must have worked. My eyeballs nearly fell out of my head, when I saw Jamie's huge melons and her brown, trimmed pussy. As soon as I saw her tits, with them standing in place and not flopping to the side, even though Jamie was on her back, I knew they weren't real, but surgically enhanced perfect globes of erotic, sexual delight.

Nonetheless, whether natural or surgically enhanced, tits are tits and Jamie had two, big, perfect boobs. To Lynn's emergency medical credit, Jamie did have bruises on her breasts, as well, they required me to photograph her tits, too. Before applying ice packs to reduce the swelling, Lynn helped Jamie move side to side while I snapped candid photos of her ass, tits, and pussy, and the bruises that were all over her body.

"He beat me with a bamboo stick, everywhere" she said, "until I told him where to find you. He just kept hitting me and hitting me. It took all that I had to block my face. I didn't want him to hit me in the face."

As if I was a Playboy photographer snapping photos of Angelina Jolie, I snapped dozens of photos of Jamie's naked body making sure I got some good close-ups of her knockers with her face in the photos. Being that I'm not a forensic scientist or a mortician, I don't like seeing nude photos of just body parts without seeing the woman's face. Seeing her face with her nakedness makes the photo so much more appealing to me on more of a personal level. Now, when I look back on these photos years from now, instead of thinking, there's a photo of a naked, headless woman, I'll be thinking, there's a photo of Jamie naked.

Her nipples were huge. I made sure that I took a few extra shots of her tits for my personal photographic library collection in case the relationship that I was enjoying now with Lynn didn't work out and I suddenly found myself alone and horny. Between seeing Jamie naked and her seeing me naked, just when I thought the excitement for one evening was over, just when I thought that this was all that I could take, Jamie managed to pump more blood to my cock.

"Can I stay here with you guys for the night? I'm afraid to go home," she said making big, sad eyes at Lynn, before staring down at my Viagra drugged cock.

To be continued... 



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 08



Chapter 8

Lynn and Jamie make love, while Freddie is sleeping.

"Can I stay here with you guys for the night? I'm afraid to go home," said Jamie making big, sad eyes at Lynn, before staring down at my Viagra drugged cock.

What? Can you stay here with us? Fuck yeah! My brain was reeling with thoughts and possibilities of Jamie staying here with us naked, but I tried not to show my enthusiastic excitement for fear that Lynn would say no and/or order me to put on some clothes. Only, my cock couldn't control its dirty desire for Jamie. With the possibility of Jamie being our naked bedroom guest, my true feelings of wanting to fuck her were divulged by my cock growing hard again.

"Yes," said Lynn looking to me for permission. Trying to act casually cool about Jamie staying over at my place, I nodded my head yes. "Of course, you can stay here with us," said Lynn smiling and winking at me, before turning back to comfort her friend.

"I'll go makeup the guest bedroom," I said turning to leave the room.

"Wait," Jamie said patting the bed and looking up at me with big eyes, before focusing her attention to Lynn, "I don't want to be alone tonight. Can I sleep here with you guys?"

What? Jamie wants to sleep here? Are you kidding me? Am I that drunk that I thought that I just heard Jamie ask Lynn if she can sleep with us in our king-size bed? This just continues to get better. Am I dreaming? Is this a joke? Where's the hidden video camera?

I imagined all three of us squeezed in together with me positioned in the middle of the bed, while my cock served as the bed's barometer for the possibility of sex. I imagined rolling over in the middle of the night boning Jamie up the ass, as I felt her big, round, phony tits in my big horny hand.

"Oh, sorry, Jamie," I imagined saying. "I didn't mean to fuck you up the ass during the night. Please pardon my intrusion. I thought that I was having a dream. Go back to sleep, please. I'll be done in just a minute. Oh, life is good, life is so good, when there's not one, but two naked 25-year-old woman in bed with me.

"Sure, baby, no problem," said Lynn wrapping an arm around her and kissing her on the lips. Wow, that was hot, Lynn kissing Jamie on the lips. I'd love to see more of that, but I never met two more heterosexual woman. Just a never to happen sexual fantasy of mine, they'd never make love to one another, that's for sure. "You can stay with us for however long as you like. Isn't that right Freddie?"

Lynn looked up at me, while looking at my face, while Jamie looked down at me, while staring at my cock.

"You're welcome to stay for as long as you want, Jamie," I said with a devious smile. "I have plenty of room."

What the Hell, maybe the three of us can live together, I thought. I have a big bed and plenty of Viagra. Both of you can share...me.

It was late and we were all tired. If I was still feeling the effects of the champagne, I'm sure that Lynn was, too. Still, even though we were all tired, the three of us hung out in bed naked together, while talking and laughing. Only, every time Jamie laughed, she hurt. I gave Jamie a few glasses of Champagne to relax her and soon she was feeling the effects of the alcohol, too.

I figured that any moment, I'd be banished to the guest bedroom, while Lynn and Jamie shared my bed, but I wasn't. Wishing that I could sleep with the light on, so that I could ogle Jamie's hot naked body all night, Lynn turned off the light. Damn. Then, just when I thought that it couldn't get any better, it got better.

"Please, can we leave the light on? I don't want to be in the dark," said Jamie. "I'm so very afraid."

"Sure Baby," said Lynn turning back on the overhead light and hugging her friend. I don't know, maybe it's just me, but there's something so very erotic about two naked women pressing their naked tits together, while hugging.

Now, with the light on, I had an entire night of ogling Jamie's hot body, as I pretended to sleep, albeit with my eyes wide open. Being that there's no way that I can sleep in a room with the light on, I had no intention of sleeping anyway. Come to think of it, there's no way that I can sleep with two, hot, naked women in bed with me with the light on or off. Seriously, I tried closing my eyes, and covering them with my forearm, but I felt as if I was being interrogated by the police at headquarters. Finally, I felt the exhaustion and the alcohol overtake my will to stare at Jamie's massive breasts and I dozed.

Alone and drifting, feeling a bit like Hemingway's Santiago, when looking to hook the big fish, I felt as if I was floating on a raft far out to sea with the hot sun beating down on me. The water was gently swaying me back and forth and up and down. Only, I was dreaming. Then, remembering that Jamie was naked and in bed with me, I opened my eyes to see, if she was still here and to see if it all wasn't just a dream and a sexual fantasy. As soon as I opened my eyes, I realized that I wasn't on a raft floating and the sun wasn't overhead, and that none of this was a dream.

Instead of being on a raft in the ocean with the sun beating down on me, I was in a bed that was shaking with the light still on overhead. I looked at my watch and I had only been asleep for twenty minutes. When I turned my head, I saw Lynn positioned between Jamie's legs going at her pussy licking, fingering her, and sucking her, while Jamie was having an orgasm.

Fuck me. Are you kidding me? Lynn looked like she was getting excited, too, while eating Jamie's pussy. Lynn was playing with her pussy and masturbating herself, while eating her friend.

Oh, my God, better than any XXX rated porn video, this is so wild. Not wanting them to suddenly stop, I pretended to still be asleep. Yet, closing my eyes enough so that they'd think that I was still sleeping and opening just enough that I could see, I didn't want to miss this lesbian show for the world. Where's the camera? I so wanted to capture this moment and save it to my hard drive to view later, after Lynn dumped me for a younger man, someone more her age.

Lynn was licking Jamie and ramming her finger up her pussy, while Jamie was arching her back, wiggling all over the bed screaming, squeezing her big tits, and pinching her erect nipples. Neither one was trying to be quiet. It was almost as if they were trying their best to awaken me, so that I wouldn't miss the show. Maybe, I thought, they were trying to wake me so that I would join in. Nah! They were doing fine without my help. Nonetheless, watching Jamie having an orgasm with her mouth wide open, I so wanted to reach over and stick my cock in her gaping mouth. I hoped that they didn't notice my erection, a dead giveaway that I was awake, but guys always get erections, when they're sleeping.

Lynn moved up from Jamie's pussy and the two began kissing, French kissing. They were going at one another, as if they were lesbians serving a life sentence in prison for taking advantage of a mature 50-year-old man. Just as it was so outrageous to see two women sexually going after one another, it was so hot to see the woman, who I love, lick, finger, and French kiss her best friend. I wish I had the balls to roll over to Jamie and stick my big, hard cock between her legs and do her doggy style, as she made out with my girlfriend. After hearing Jamie scream, I wanted to make her scream, too. Just as Lynn had just done, I wanted to make her cum, too.

Watching them make love, I was jealous and I took note of their kissing. They kissed differently than how guys kiss women. They were more loving with their kissing and touching without all the desperate groping. It was hot to watch them kiss, while feeling one another's tits, finger one another's nipples, and watching them lovingly touch their hair and their face. Guys would just grabbed their asses and tits, while humping their crotches. It made me realize the animals that men are and the lovers that women are. After watching this loving display of affection, I realized that I needed to be more like a woman than a man in my sexual movements. I needed to be more loving.

Then, if it wasn't enough watching Lynn lick, finger, and make out with Jamie, it was Jamie's turn to go down on Lynn. I saw Lynn look over at me and, when she saw that I was still asleep or, in my case, pretending to be asleep, she closed her eyes and put her hand on the back of Jamie's head, while lightly running her fingers through her hair. Never in a million years would I ever think that Lynn and Jamie were lesbian or bi-sexual lovers. As if she was giving Jamie a hair massage, she lovingly played with Jamie's lush, dirty blonde hair, as Jamie started licking and fingering Lynn's pussy.

Obviously, this was not the first time that these two had done this. They looked too experienced. They looked too comfortable. They looked like lovers. Lynn was really getting into having her pussy licked and finger fucked by Jamie. She was turning her head from side to side, while moving her tongue around her lips. I couldn't wait to fill her mouth with my big prick.

It was so hot to see my girlfriend and her best friend having sex. It was so hot to watch my girlfriend have her pussy sucked, licked, and fingered by another woman. Never have I experienced watching two women doing one another. Never have I been as turned on watching a female couple having sex. The fact that I was intimate with one of the woman and knew the other woman, made it all that more sexually excitingly. This was way better than any porn movie that I've ever watched. This was my personal porn movie, right here, right now, in my bedroom, and on my bed.

Then, just when I thought that the evening was finally over, just when I thought that Lynn and Jamie would finally fall asleep, what happened next was too good to be true. Even though this was the sexual event of my life, even though this was what men fantasize about, a little too drunk and much too tired, I couldn't stay awake. I knew, as soon as I closed my eyes, I'd be asleep within seconds and this wonderful day would finally end. It had been a long day, it was so late, and I was so tired.

Sexually sated after having hot sex with Lynn, I was still a feeling a little drunk. Had I not taken the Viagra, I couldn't have gotten it up, especially after consuming that much champagne. I closed my eyes thinking about Lynn licking Jamie's pussy and about Jamie licking Lynn's pussy. That was the hottest sex show I've ever witnessed. I closed my eyes with the vision of the two women making out. I closed my eyes, happy that I was here with the both of them naked beside me and in bed with me. 

What a day. What a fabulous night. I'm so happy. This is the best time of my life. Yawning, I stretched, curled up, and closed my eyes for the night. I couldn't wait for tomorrow.

As soon as I closed my eyes, I started dreaming. I dreamt that Lynn was kissing me, French kissing me, while Jamie was sucking my cock. What a dream? What a fabulous dream? If what I had just witnessed was not hot enough, now, I was having an even hotter dream.

My cock hardened with the thought of it in Jamie's mouth. Boy this is some dream. I felt my cock pulsate at the thoughts of Lynn watching her best friend blow me. I felt my cock grow harder with the warm, wet feel of Jamie's tongue swirling around the head of my big prick, as she stroked me with her soft, little hand. Believe it or not, but my dream was way hotter than watching the two women having sex with one another. My dream felt so real. I was having an incredible dream. I was having the best dream of my life.

Only, when I forced myself to open my eyes, there was my sweet baby doll Lynn kissing me. Man, she's such a good kisser. I love it when she kisses me. I love kissing her. I love that she woke me up by kissing me. Only, while kissing Lynn, I couldn't help but feel that incredible sensation that I feel when getting a dynamite blowjob. Not fully awake, I was still half asleep. Was I still dreaming? How could Lynn kiss me, while blowing me at the same time?

The alcohol left me in a relaxing daze and I wiped away the sleep from my eyes. When I looked down, there was Jamie attached to my cock sucking away with her head bobbing back and forth. She was sucking my cock, really sucking my cock, while making all of those cock sucking sounds, noises that get guys off, whenever we hear them. As if my cock was her last meal, Jamie was devouring my prick and taking it deep in her mouth, only removing it to lick my balls. Lynn's hot girlfriend was licking my balls. Boy did that feel wonderful when she licked my balls. She was really into sucking my cock. Between the sweet French kisses of Lynn and the cock sucking skills of Jamie, I was in Heaven.

I watched Jamie sucking my cock for a while, before pulling her up to me. Lynn scooted her body down and where Jamie had left off, she took Jamie's place and started sucking my cock. Now, it was Lynn's turn to suck my cock, while Jamie and I made out and, as I got better acquainted with her perfect tits. She attached herself to my lips in the way she had attached herself to my cock, while I fondled her huge melons and fingered her big nipples. She was a wonderful kisser with full lips like Lynn's and she knew how to use her tongue. I couldn't wait to fuck her. I couldn't wait to eat Lynn's pussy, while I fucked Jamie. This, my first threesome, I wanted to experience it all. Suddenly, I was no longer sleepy. I was alive with the lust of hot sex with two young hot woman. I felt as if I was such a player.

Lynn stopped blowing me to see what I was going to do. I scooted down to the bottom of the bed pulling Jamie down with me. With my cock positioned between Jamie's opened legs, I directed Lynn and had her move her body above Jamie's head with her legs spread wide open and her pussy within the reach of my mouth and tongue. I ate Lynn's pussy, while I fucked Jamie.

I love eating Lynn. I love her sweet pussy. I love feeling her wetness all over my face and up my nose, as I licked her and fingered her, while watching her orgasm. There's nothing like the feeling of eating the pussy of a beautiful woman that you love, while fucking another beautiful woman. I haven't had this much sex, since I was 25-years-old. Suddenly, at 50-years-old, I felt like a super stud. Who's the man? I'm the man.

Oh, my God, the feeling of doing two women at once is amazing. No matter what I did, if one was blowing me, while the other was kissing me, or if I was fucking one, while eating the other, the feeling was completely depraved and so sexually satisfying. It encompassed all of my senses at once and completely filled my brain with sex. Never have I experienced anything like this before. Matter of fact, after having two women at once, I don't know how I can go back to just doing one woman. If only I could, somehow, convince Jamie to stay with us a little longer, if only I could, somehow, convince Lynn to accept this type of sexual arrangement more permanently, I'd die a happy man.

Only, I figured that having sex with two women would eventually kill me. I mean, how much Viagra can I safely take before my penis just falls off or explodes? Surely, there must be a warning label for that. Danger, taking too much Viagra will make your penis fall off or explode.

"What happened to Freddie?" I imagined my friend John asking my friend, Mike.

"Oh, he died," said Mike.

"Died? You're kidding! He was so young, only fifty," said John. "How did he die?"

"He was living with two, hot, beautiful and sexually depraved, 25-year-old women and having sex, a threesome, morning, noon, and night," said Mike.

"Wow, what a guy?" John looked at Mike with a sad smile. "So, he had of a heart attack?"

"Nah, having taken too much Viagra, his penis exploded, before falling off. He had a major hemorrhage, but he died with a permanent smile on his face. You should have seen him at the wake, he looked so happy," said Mike. "With a big assed smile on his face, his eyes were wide open, and his arms were outstretched with his hands up, as if he was feeling tits. There was no way the mortician could get his arms down without breaking them, so he cut two holes in the coffin."

"Wow! That's how I want to die," said John. "That's exactly how I want to die."

"Yeah, me too," said Mike.

"Way to go, Freddie," said John.

"Way to go, Freddie," said Mike.

Although Jamie didn't have the desire for conversation and dirty talk, like did Lynn, she took an active participating roll, when having sex. Quite the dirty girl, she had sex, as if she was a guy on testosterone steroids. She was a real screamer and she didn't just move her body with my humps, she slammed her body into my cock. She was proactive. She fucked like a guy, a guy who had been away at sea for an extended period of time. She wanted to fuck and to get fucked. Never have I been with a woman who fucked like that.

"Fuck me, Freddie! Fuck me!" She yelled over and again, as I fucked her. "Fuck me! Fuck me!"

There was no making love to Jamie. Love wasn't part of her sexual equation. Having sex with Jamie was more of a fuck fest than it was a love affair. If I was married to Jamie, I'd need hip replacement surgery. Fucking Jamie was like playing a contact sport, a heated tennis game, or a wrestling match. In the way she used the entire bed, when fucking, was like rolling around on the canvas mat of a wrestling ring. It was difficult to do or think of anything else other than fucking, when fucking Jamie. I was glad, when Lynn took a break to go pee. Now, instead of being distracted by eating Lynn's pussy, while fucking Jamie, I could really concentrate on slamming my cock into Jamie to get her off, so that I could get some much needed sleep.

She had an orgasm, finally, thank God, I never thought she would. Who's the man? Who's the man? She exploded hard and screamed at the top of her lungs. To lessen the pressure, I had to open my mouth, so that my eardrums wouldn't explode. Lynn returned from the bathroom, laughing.

"Jesus, Jamie, it's a good thing we live at the end of the cul-de-sac and not near a cemetery because you'd wake the dead."

"Oh, Lynn, Freddie fucked me like I've never been fucked before."

...And never will, again, I wanted to say. I was lucky that I was so excited this time, the first time, but there was no way that I could continue this level of fucking or even repeat this marathon humping session. I was a literal fuck machine. I outdid myself. It had to be the champagne. I think the Champagne bubbles carried the Viagra straight to my cock in the way that rocket fuel goes to the space shuttle.

Lynn looked at me lying next to Jamie. She had a glisten to her eye, as she viewed my naked body.

"And you, you're my Superman, my superhuman man. You're such a horny guy. I can't believe you still have an erection."

What? I do? I still have an erection? Cut it off, I wanted to say. Please, no more. Kill me, now. Suddenly, I remembered the warning on the Viagra bottle, 'Seek medical attention if your erection last more than four hours.' What time is it? What time did I start fucking? What time did I take the Viagra? I don't remember anything except pussy and tits, fucking, and blowjobs.

Lynn dived from where she was standing and impaled her mouth on my cock. Good God, she's blowing me, again.

"I love your cock, Freddie," she said in-between her kisses, sucking, and licks. She held on to my shoulders as she raised herself up along my body. She started kissing me with deep, wet, French kisses that instantly made me desire her. Then, reaching down, she inserted my cock in her moist pussy. "Fuck me, Freddie, in the way you did, Jamie. I want to feel your lust for my cunt. I want to cum, too, again. Fuck me, my superhuman Superman."

Oh, God, there's all that dirty pillow talk again. If you want to get me going, just talk dirty to me and Lynn, as if she was in charge of launch control, knew all the right buttons to push in the right sequence. I rolled her over and started banging her, really pounding her pussy, in the way that I just had with Jamie. I was a machine, a sex machine, a fucking, fuck machine that blew a circuit and couldn't be turned off to stop humping.




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 08



Maybe because Jamie had been a screamer, now Lynn was getting more vocal. I leaned down to kiss her and before I parted from her lips with my tongue, I whispered in her ear. 

"Scream for me, baby. I want to hear you cum."

Louder and louder her pleasure filled the room, until she let out a scream of passion that surely would have awakened the dead had we lived near a cemetery.

There we lay with Jamie on one side of me and Lynn on the other.

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 09



Chapter 9

Life together after the afterglow, three is not a crowd

"Well, I'm so glad that you both had multiple orgasms. Once, when Jamie licked your pussy," I said to Lynn, "and once when Lynn licked your pussy," I said to Jamie. "Then, again, when I fucked you, Jamie and again when I fucked you, Lynn." I put my hands over my face and pretended to sob. "Only, I haven't cum, yet."

With that, Jamie and Lynn took their positions on each side of my still stiff cock and took turns kissing, licking, sucking, and stroking it. I couldn't believe that two women were sucking my cock. I was getting a blowjob from two gorgeous sexual freaks that were half my age. The blowjob that I was getting was just too pleasurable, too exciting, and too much for me to hold back any longer and I erupted an explosion of cum. First Jamie got a mouthful, and then Lynn licked up the remainder of my semen. I was spent. I was drained. I was dead, but God, was I happy. If I died now, I'd have no regrets.

"Any regrets, Freddie, now that you are dead," I imagined Saint Peter asking me.

"No Saint Peter. I died having a threesome with Lynn and Jamie."

"Lucky bastard. Go ahead on into Heaven. You deserve it, Freddie."

Then, what the fuck, no way, these women are depraved. It can't be. This is too much. When will it end? Jamie and Lynn started kissing, again. I was just too tired to watch but I did. I couldn't help myself from watching them make out. So excitingly enamored with watching woman French kissing, I couldn't turn away. They are too freaking sexy not to watch them kiss and touch one another. How the Hell could I sleep, when a show like this, a once in a lifetime experience, was happening before my eyes? 

First Jamie started sucking Lynn's gorgeous tits and then Lynn started sucking Jamie's huge jugs. Fingering and rubbing one another, they both had their hands between one another's legs, while they were kissing and masturbating one another. Then, Jamie flipped around in the 69 position and started licking Lynn's pussy, again, while Lynn licked Jamie's pussy. Oh, my God. I figured no way that they could keep this up and continue this sexual pace, but they did for another 10 minutes, when they both came, again, with Lynn being just as vocal was Jamie. Their screams were deafening. They even got the dogs barking. 

They fell back on the bed laughing. That was it. We were done. Somehow, I managed to keep up with them. I did pretty well for an old man. Yet, it was the participants that maintained my erection. What man wouldn't be excited being in bed with the likes of these two naked women? Having two women who looked as good as and as hot as did Lynn and Jamie, anyone would have a permanent erection, too.

The three of us slept until noon the next day. A couple of times in the early morning once around 6am and another time around 9am, I awoke to pee and to ogle Jamie. She had a beautiful body and her big tits never moved. Just as Lynn's breasts did, natural tits splay out, when a woman lays on her back, but not these silicon sensations. They stood proud. Now that Jamie was in the middle of the bed, I loved spooning her and sticking my half erect cock along the crack of her round and firm, shapely ass, while casually throwing my arm around her and feeling the weight of her big tit. I noticed that during the night, she did the same to Lynn, throwing her arm around her and feeling the weight of her tit.

Sometime around 4am, while Jamie was spooning Lynn, she masturbated her. They thought that I was asleep. They didn't know that I was watching them with one eye open. I always thought it was only guys that were horny. Then, Lynn turned to face Jamie and the women were briefly kissing. At some point during the night, Jamie spooned me with her hand around my cock, until I got an erection. By the rhythm of her breathing, with her big breasts rubbing up against my back, I could tell that she was sleeping and was feeling my cock in her sleep. Boy that was hot.

The women were up before me. The smell of coffee and bacon and the sound of their giggling, laughing, and talking woke me up from my deep, sound sleep. As soon as I yawned, they both came running in the bedroom naked, but for their aprons tied loosely around the front of them. They launched themselves on my poor, hung-over body. A sexual fantasy come true, feeling much like Hugh Hefner must have felt in his heyday, boy it sure felt wonderful having two hot women with me in bed, waking me up, and kissing me good morning. Missing one Angel, I suddenly felt a bit like Charlie of Charlie's Angels.

"Good morning, Freddie. How did you sleep, Sweetie?" said Lynn giving me a soulful, long wet kiss.

"I slept like the dead," I said returning the passion of her kiss.

"Good morning, Freddie, How did you sleep, Honey?" said Jamie giving me a lusty, long wet kiss.

"I slept wonderfully," I said returning the passion of her kiss.

They both looked at me with their happy and expressive eyes and I just knew that something was up. I could just tell that they wanted to ask me something. Pinch me because I'm dreaming. This is the happiest time of my life. If I had written this as a fictional piece, I never would have thought to write what they were about to ask me.

"Freddie?"

"Yes, Lynn, what is it?"

I could tell by the way she looked at me and then turned to look at Jamie and started giggling that the two of them had cooked up more than breakfast. Something was definitely brewing along with the coffee. After experiencing all of my wildest sexual desires last night, I couldn't imagine what it was that was on their horny minds.

"Did we shock you with what happened last night?" Lynn turned to Jamie and they giggled again, as if they were school girls hiding a secret crush.

"You don't think we are sluts," asked Jamie, "do you?"

Lynn was acting so coyly demur and Jamie was acting so brazenly bold. If they were cops, this is the part where they play good cop, bad cop. Only, if I was a prisoner arrested of an alleged crime, these two sex pots could interrogate me any time.

Lynn was so sexy and cute, when she looks at me like that. As if she's a wild horse, I love how she flips her hair with the toss of her pretty head. That movement drives me crazy and, when she does that, I imagine her tossing back her hair, before blowing me. Whenever she does that, I want to push her back on the bed, the floor, or the table and fuck her. Then, the sight of Jamie sitting there topless, with her breasts so big that the apron can't possibly cover more than one at a time, I just wanted to lean into her and suck her big nipples.

"Shocked me? No, it's hard to shock me," I said even though I was shocked that Lynn was licking Jamie's pussy. "I've been around. And I certainly don't think you're sluts. Horny and depraved, maybe, but not sluts," I said laughing. I looked from Lynn to Jamie and back to Lynn. Both were smiling at me and waiting to hear more of my response. "Actually, surprised is more the word, yeah, surprised is more befitting how I felt. when I saw you two kissing."

"Surprised that Jamie and I got it on together or surprised that we had a threesome?"

"Well, I never expected you and Jamie to be lovers. That was a surprise. Yet, even before that, I was surprised, when you stripped Jamie naked," I said. "That was shocking."

"I'm glad you liked my naked body," said Jamie.

"And I sure was happily surprised, when you woke me up kissing me and with Jamie sucking my cock. Yeah, that was a surprise. And I was surprised by how proactive you both were. I was surprised by how much you both obviously enjoy one another and enjoy sex."

"Thank you, Freddie," said Lynn giving me a kiss.

"Definitely," I said with a laugh, "I was surprised by the screaming, first Jamie and then you." I laughed remembering how Lynn tried to imitate Jamie with her screams of pleasure but couldn't even come close to the volume of her scream.

"By the way, don't worry about Jamie and me," said Lynn. "We both like men, an understatement," she said with a sexy laugh. "We are not lesbians or anything like that. We're just best friends--"

"With benefits," said Jamie laughing. "I love cocks too much to be a lesbian. If anything we are selectively bi-sexual," said Jamie with a chuckle. She looked at Lynn and then back at me. "We've only been with one another. Neither of us has been with anyone else." Jamie made a face full of rejection. "I can't imagine doing another woman. It was different making love with Lynn."

"It's more natural when your lover is your best friend," said Lynn. "We're just good friends, who took it a step further, when we were both between guys, were a little depressed, a lot drunk, and very horny," said Lynn. "It just kind of happened."

"Now, there's a story that I'd love to hear more about," I said hoping that they would tell me more, "the first time you two had sex."

"Pillow talk, Freddie, pillow talk," said Lynn laughing. "I'll save that for our next pillow talking session."

"Yeah, lots of girls experiment with lesbianism, especially when they're away at college. Away from home for the first time, they find themselves alone with their hot roommate," Jamie said laughing and winking at Lynn. "Actually, we found it very comforting to hold and spoon one another, when sleeping in the same bed."

"So," said Lynn holding onto my cock and gently rolling it with her fingers as if she was holding onto my finger. "Did you have a good time?"

"Did I have a good time?" I could tell by their expressions that they were already anticipating my answer. "No, sorry. I didn't. Actually, I was bored to death."

"Bored?" They both laughed. "You could have fooled us the way that you never lost your erection," said Jamie. "Bored my ass, you were ready to explode with excitement."

"I'm kidding. I had the time of my life. Never have I had sex with two women before and never have I watched two women having sex. Last night was amazing. I can die happy now because I've experienced every man's dream, a threesome with two hot women. You two are really something."

I almost overstepped the boundaries by saying that I hoped we could continue having a threesome. At the last second, I thought better of saying that because I didn't want to ruin what I had with Lynn. I didn't want Lynn to feel that she wasn't good enough for me or not enough for me. I didn't want her to think that I needed Jamie in my life, too. I figured what happened last night was a fluke, a sexual miracle, and a once in a lifetime kind of thing. Admittedly, Lynn and I were a little drunk and Jamie was feeling a little beat up, literally and figuratively. We all came together at the right time in the right place. As if I had won the lottery with last night's sexual fireworks, lightning never strikes twice. Right?

I couldn't help but stare at Jamie. The apron she wore could not conceal her enormous boobs and they peeked out the sides every time she moved. Seeing the sides of her tits peeking out, while watching her nipples play peek-a-boo was starting to give me an erection. Every time she moved, I could see part of her areola and nipple. Her nipples were so big and erect that I just wanted to suck them. How hot is that?

Seeing her wearing that apron made me want to call pizza delivery and have her answer the front door dressed only in that apron. I had an erection just thinking about the look on the guy's face, when Jamie opened the front door. I imagined the guy's look on his face, if both Jamie and Lynn opened the front door wearing only their aprons. Now, that's hot. She looked hot wearing just an apron, they both did.

"Did you girls have a good time?" I winked, "Did I satisfy your every sexual urge? Did I make you want more?"

"We had a wonderful time with you, Freddie. You're a generous lover. Yes, Freddie, we want more," said Lynn laughing.

"A wild man is more like it," said Jamie making Lynn laugh with her. "Where did you get the energy?"

"Yet, I hope that you know that it's more than sex." Lynn suddenly became serious. "The reason why I'm so attracted to you is because you're not like the young fools my age, who only want to be with a woman to get laid or to get a blowjob. None of the guys my age are ready to commit."

"Yeah, it's totally different with you," chimed in Jamie. "A real man, a manly man, a man's man, you're mature, funny, wise, and stable. And, ala Archie Bunker, you don't wear white socks like my father does," she said with a laugh.

"Well," interrupted Lynn looking at Jamie and then back at me, "I wanted to know...and you don't have to answer right now, you can think about it." She paused. A hesitant and serious look came over her face. 

"Lynn, please, you can ask me anything. I love you."

Shit. I couldn't believe that I had just said that. I just told Lynn that I love her. That was the first time that I said that. It just came out. I was just as surprised in verbalizing that as was she. Oh, my God. Now what? What if she doesn't love me? What if she doesn't feel the same way about me? How could I be so stupid? I just ruined our beautiful relationship. Now she'll think me a stalker.

A startled look flashed across Lynn's face for an instant and then she blushed. She suddenly looked so sweet and vulnerable that I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her. I knew now that I really did love her and that I was glad that I had said what I had said, even if I did blurt it out instead of saying it at a romantic time, when we were alone. There's no taking that back. It's out there now. Besides, I don't want to take it back. I love her. I really do. I love Lynn and I want her to know that I love her.

She leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. It was a tender kiss, a kiss without tongues, but a meaningful kiss. Then, she hugged me and whispered in my ear. 

"I love you, too. I love you, Freddie."

I held her for what seemed like an hour, but it was only a minute. Holding Lynn is my favorite thing to do. My fountain of youth, I could hold her forever. Holding her makes me feel younger.

"So, speak your mind, ask me," I said as we broke off our hug.

She looked at me and smiled, before looking at Jamie and taking her hand, as if I was the preacher and they were a lesbian couple getting married.

"Can Jamie live with us?"

I was feeling warm savoring the thought that I just told Lynn that I love her and that she just told me that she loved me. Nothing could be wrong now. I know I told her to speak her mind, but I never expected her to ask me, if Jamie could live with us. After living alone, when my previous girlfriend left, I had adjusted to being alone and was just getting accustomed to having Lynn in my life and having her live in my house with her dog. Now, she asked if her girlfriend could move in, too. Oh, boy.

No doubt, because I made her feel so comfortable about asking me anything and telling me everything, she just blurted out the question without thinking about it. Otherwise, she would have waited, until the right moment, when her mouth was around my cock and we were alone. I was just as surprised seeing Lynn having sex with Jamie, as I was when she asked me if Jamie can live with us. No, actually, I was still even more surprised, when Lynn stripped Jamie naked in front of me. Now, that was shocking.

I mean, it was something that she should have asked me privately. It was something that we needed to talk about, and it was something that I needed to think about. Now, that I think about it, it really could be wonderful to have Jamie here. What am I nuts? What is to think about?

Any guy would jump at the chance of having not one gorgeous woman, but two gorgeous women living with them and sleeping in the same bed. Yet, I was concerned. I was afraid of that infamous triangle. I didn't want unforeseen complications developing that may ruin my relationship with Lynn, the love of my life.

Both of their faces dropped when I looked from Lynn to Jamie and back again to Lynn. I think they thought that I'd have jumped at the chance to continue our sexual orgy of a threesome relationship but, in the back of my mind, I was fearful of losing Lynn. More concerned about maintaining my love relationship with Lynn than having sex with Jamie, I love Lynn and I didn't want to lose her. I thought this was too early in our relationship to involve a third person. I was just getting to know Lynn and now Jamie's personality would change everything.

Maybe a 25-year-old, testosterone filled guy would have jumped at living with Lynn and Jamie, but I was fearful and cautious. I didn't want Jamie to serve as a wedge or a love interest between Lynn and me. I wanted Lynn all to myself and watching Jamie pleasure Lynn gave me a pang of jealousy because there was no way that I could compete with a woman loving another woman. There was just no way that I could satisfy Lynn in the way that Jamie could satisfy her. Then again, there was no way that Jamie could satisfy Lynn, a heterosexual woman, in the way that I, a man, could satisfy her. 

"You put me on the spot," I said to Lynn taking her hands in mine. "I want what we have to work, our relationship, you and I. I want us to be a couple." Then, I looked at Jamie. "Jamie I more than like you. What happened between us last night was magical and has brought me closer to you than I could ever imagine as a friend and as a lover, but I don't want what we experienced last night, as a threesome, interfering in the relationship that I have with Lynn. I love Lynn." I looked at Lynn. "I love you, Lynn." 

"Freddie, I love you, too, and I understand, only, we thought that—" Lynn tried to explain and I interrupted her.

"Wait. Hold on. I didn't say no. I just want to set some ground rules, so that we all understand."

Jamie and Lynn held hands. They knew now by my tone and by my mannerisms that I'd allow Jamie to live with us.

"It's apparent to me that you're important to Lynn," I said making eye contact with Jamie, and you, obviously make Lynn happy providing her with things that I'm unable to give her."

They kissed and then giggled like little girls excited at the thoughts of having a party.

"Yes, you can live with us and I'd love to further explore the sexuality of having a threesome again. Only, I want you, Jamie, to understand that, although I totally enjoyed last night and although I like you and would love to experience having sex with you again and again, I love Lynn. The relationship that I have with Lynn is more than the relationship that I want with you."

"Freddie, speaking for Lynn, we understand and I'd never do anything to come between you and Lynn, that will undermine the relationship, or lessen the love that you have for her." She looked at Lynn and then back to me. "It's just sex." Again, they laughed like school girls.

If only I was 25-years-old, maybe I would understand their carefree attitude about it just being sex, but where I'm at in my life, it's harder to separate sex from my feelings of love. Suddenly, they made me feel old. Difficult to detach my emotions of love from sex, it was more than just sex to me. I was beginning to fall for Jamie, too, which made me wonder if I could love two women at the same time. Clearly, I could see this becoming a dream arrangement or a triangular nightmare.

"Oh, my God!" Lynn and Jamie hugged bouncing up and down on the bed. "We can all live together," said Lynn. "We can all live together."

"This will just be like our college days," said Jamie.

"Oh, God, what did I agree to?" I looked at the women and they laughed. I blessed myself and said, "God help me."

"Don't worry, Freddie," said Jamie, "we'll take care of you like you're a king."

"Yeah, not only will you have a hot meal every night, but you will always have hot sex from one or the other or both of us," said Lynn laughing.




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 09



"C'mon, breakfast is getting cold," said Jamie.

"Here's your apron," said Lynn tying it around me as I stood, "to cover your man tool."

The both roared laughing when the apron was too short and didn't cover my cock.

"I guess we need to tie this at your waist," said Lynn.

We gorged ourselves on pancakes and bacon. When we finished the last of the coffee, it was early afternoon.

"I need to shower," said Lynn.

"Me too," echoed Jamie.

"You know, the shower in the master bedroom is big enough to fit the three of us and I've never showered with anyone before, but have always wanted to do that."

"You haven't?" said Jamie. "Well, you are in for a treat."

With that, we all headed upstairs, removed our aprons, got in the shower, and turned on the water. Immediately, Lynn and I started fooling around touching one another and kissing. The pulsating water felt good and I felt like I was standing beneath a waterfall. She surprised me when she kneeled down on the shower floor and sucked my cock to an erection. Then, she stood against the wall and inserted my cock in her already moist pussy. We fucked like that for a few minutes, before I felt Jamie licking my ass. She was tossing my salad. I've only had that done once before, but never when I was fucking another woman. The feeling of her tongue and finger up my ass, as I fucked Lynn was unbelievable and I shot my load within a couple of minutes.

Lynn was obviously still horny but Jamie took care of that by going down on her right there in the shower. Almost immediately, she had an orgasm. Lynn reciprocated going down on her knees and licking her pussy. Now, if this was a highlight of what I could expect living with two hot and horny women, then I'm thrilled that I agreed to this living arrangement of the three of us sharing a bed together and participating in a threesome.

Only, in hindsight, knowing what I know now and didn't know then, had I known what would happen with this arrangement, had I given it more thought with my head, instead of my penis, I may have said no.

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 10



"Jamie, where's Lynn?"

I continued my relationship with Lynn and Jamie living together with the dogs, Seymour and Polo. Life couldn't be any better. Never have I been as happy. Living with two, gorgeous 25-year-old women made me feel younger, vibrant, needed, and desirable. Even though I got less sleep and did more outdoor activities, I was never tired in the way that I was always exhausted before. The way that I felt before depressed, lonely, and irritable, as opposed to how I felt now, happy, outgoing, and energetic was all just a state of mind that affected my physical well being, now, I felt younger and appreciated. I loved being alive. 

We shared the chores with each one doing the things that we didn't mind doing. I did the vacuuming, repairing, fixing, and whatever heavy lifting that needed to be done. Jamie did the cooking, since she liked to cook and was an excellent cook. Lynn did the dishes and the cleaning up afterward, and we all shared the remainder of the housework. We made sure that splitting up the household chores was fair and equitable. What was once a dreaded chore and now one of our favorite things to do, we all went to the supermarket together. I never thought food shopping could be such fun, but it was and it became an outing that we all looked forward to doing it. 

We were sensitive to one another's needs and moods giving one another space or a hug, whenever needed. Quickly, our relationship blossomed evolving into more than just sex. We no longer thought of age as a condition of love or of sex. We were just people who loved one another and who shared our bodies and sexuality with one another. Almost in a Hippie state of Zen mind, it was a beautiful thing. Although I truly cared for Jamie, I truly loved Lynn and would always love Lynn, until the day that I died. 

One of the good things about our relationship was, because there was no sexual tension, as there is with normal married couples, we got along splendidly. We never argued, sniped at or were mean to one another. Sex was never an issue or a chore. It was an enjoyable and immensely pleasurable activity. Matter of fact, after having lived this way with two women for more than a year, now, I recommend this arrangement to anyone who wants to try it.

Although, some women may prefer a two man threesome relationship rather than a two woman threesome relationship. Having already experienced it, I prefer a relationship with two women. It helped that Jamie and Lynn were sexually attracted to one another, too. Having that third party acting as a buffer in the relationship serves an important role that removes the boredom that so many relationships suffer and eliminates the rut that many relationships experience. When one person doesn't feel up to something or doesn't like doing something, whether it is sex or food shopping or playing a game, the other is always available to pick up the slack.

The relationship continued without a hitch until one day, when Lynn informed me that she needed to visit her mom, dad, and her sister in upstate New York. She told me that Jamie was going with her, too, and that they would be gone the entire weekend, from early Friday morning, until late Sunday night. I didn't like the idea of her going without me, but there was nothing that I could do.

"Lynn, I don't understand, why are you suddenly leaving me? Why can't I come with you?"

"I'm not leaving you, you goof. I'm just going to see my family. There's something that I need to talk to them about and I'd rather not have you there. I need to talk with them alone and without you. You'll meet them soon enough, don't worry."

"What it is that you have to talk to your mother and sister about and what is it that you are unable to tell me?"

"It's just girl talk," she said with a shrug.

"And that's why Jamie is going with you?"

"Well, yes, she's a girl, after all, and she can help me to explain you and sell you to my parents," she said with a grin. "They're more apt to agree on things in my personal and private life, if I have someone else there, such as Jamie, who can validate and verify what it is that I'm saying. She can vouch for you, not that you needing vouching," she said with a laugh. "Yet, being that you're so wicked old," she said with a another laugh, "I need her there to help make my shocked parents understand the love that I have for you."

"You know how much I hate sleeping alone," I said putting my hands around her waist, pulling her to me, and kissing her neck.

"You have the dogs," she said laughing.

"Funny, but I'm not sleeping with the dogs," I said looking from her to the dogs.

"We'll be back before you know it," she said giving me a kiss. "It's just for a couple of days."

"You aren't going to tell your mother about our relationship, are you? I mean, about the torrid sex and the threesome," I said teasing. "You aren't going to tell your mother, father, and sister about you and Jamie having hot sex are you?"

"Of course not," she said laughing. "My mother and father would never understand about that, about sex, and especially about threesomes. My sister might though," she said with a laugh. "She's a slut like me." She put my face in her hands and kissed me on the lips. "I'm going to tell her about us, though, about love, about soul mates, and about a secret that I've been keeping from you and that I'll tell you when I return."

"Secret? What secret? And why do they get to hear what the secret is, before I do?" 

"I'll tell you in a couple of days."

"Is it a good secret?"

"It is for me and I hope it is for you, too."

"Your mother doesn't know about us?"

"No, she thinks that I'm still with my whacko boyfriend. I figure having Jamie there, as support, will help me to convince my Dad that you're a nice guy and not a predator or a dirty, old man." She smiled, "He always liked Jamie."

"But, I am a dirty, old man."

"You're my dirty, old man," she said pulling me close for a quick kiss.

"So, this is beginning to sound serious," I said, "as if this is the next step."

"It is serious. We love one another. This is the next, big step." She picked up her suitcase to load in the car. I took it from her hand to carry it out. "Then, once my Mom and Dad are okay with us, I'll have them meet you."

"It sounds like a plan." After loading her and Jamie's suitcases in the car, I kissed her and gave her a hug. Then, I kissed Jamie and hugged her, too. It was weird going from just having a dog to keep me company to having two, hot, 25-year-old women in bed with me. My head was still trying to adjust to have a regular, sexual routine of threesomes. "I'm going to miss you, both of you. It won't be the same without you."

"You'll be alright. Enjoy the time alone," said Lynn running back to me to give me another kiss.

"Oh, I won't be alone," I said with a grin. "I plan on having a dozen women over the house while you're gone."

"Very funny. You had better not."

"I'm just kidding. I'd never cheat on you, Lynn." I looked at Jamie. "Or you, Jamie." We all laughed.

Lynn and Jamie said they'd be gone three days and not returning until late on Sunday, but on the second day, Saturday, Seymour woke me up howling and scratching at the door, as if he wanted to go out to pee. Afraid to let him outside, at this hour of the night with all the nocturnal creatures out and about, especially skunks, I leashed him and quickly ran him out to pee. Of course, I had to take Polo with me, too. I just hoped this wouldn't be a nightly habit, waking me up to pee.

There was a full moon that night and it was creepy outside. I had an eerie feeling as if something or someone was out and about watching, waiting, and lurking in the dark. I hate it when I get foreboding feelings or premonitions like that. Once back inside, suddenly, a cool wind blew the draperies shut and blocked the moonlight from entering the open bedroom window. Two tired to get up again, staying in the darkness, I didn't bother with the drapes.

The sudden draft gave me a cold chill and goose bumps all over making my hair stand up on my arms. Then, Seymour started whining like he usually does, when Lynn is coming home from work and I relaxed figuring it was her. It always amazed me that the dogs knew she was coming from blocks away. It was late, after midnight, and I was still half asleep and too tired to get up to see what the matter with him was. Then, I heard the key in the front door and was glad that she was home early. I heard the excited dogs downstairs being greeted and at that point, I knew my Lynn was home.

I missed her. I really missed her. I was glad that I wouldn't have to sleep alone another night. Then, figuring something was wrong, I wondered if everything was okay. It is a several hour drive and it seemed odd for her to come home in the middle of the night. Maybe, when she told her parents about me, they were mad that she was living with an old guy. Maybe, she had a big fight with them and left there angry and drove home. I figured I'd give her some space, not ask her any questions, and let her tell me all about it in the morning, in her own time, after she had some rest and sorted things out in her mind. Always able to discuss anything, I figured we could talk about it at breakfast over coffee.

I heard her enter the bedroom. She was so ghostly quiet. The room was totally dark and I was afraid that she'd be crashing into the furniture, but she didn't. I saw the dark, shadowy silhouette of her. Her eyes must have adjusted to the lack of light very quickly. I had pulled the shades and closed the drapes earlier because I went to bed with a splitting headache and the glow of the full moon lit up the bedroom. Now, with the drapes blown closed on the other bedroom window, the room was totally dark. 

Figuring that my headache was from the wine at dinner, or from the tension I felt about Lynn leaving and not taking me with her to meet her parents, the dark room lessened my headache. Then, being that full moons always gave me the creeps, ever since I was a kid, I wondered if I was just feeling tense because I was alone with Lynn. Nothing good every happens, when there's a full moon. Whatever it was, whether it was the wine, self-imposed tension, or the full moon or the combination of all three, I just wanted the day to end to go to bed with my baby.

It's not the same without Lynn there in my life. I didn't realize how alone I was, until she and Jamie went away. Suddenly, but for the ticking of the clock, the house was too quiet. It's funny how I was feeling so lonely and depressed, until I heard her key in the door. Then, I was excited. I'm just so glad that she's home safe and sound. Although, I was tired, a favorite sexy thing of mine to do, I was compelled to watch her undress. She's so damn sexy and watching her remove her clothes, even in the dark made me horny. As soon as she started undressing a light breeze fluttered the curtain and I could see a little more of her in the moonlight, even to watch her get naked.

My eyes were already adjusted to the darkness and I watched her strip off her clothes. She has such a wonderful body and I couldn't wait to hold her in my arms. Actually, I wanted to make love to her, but I knew that she'd be tired, after driving all that way. I wondered what happened to Jamie. Maybe, for some reason, Jamie decided to stay or come home by bus or by the train. Maybe, she was delayed.

Then, I thought, maybe, she's coming home with Lynn's Mom, Dad, and sister. Fuck. Now, I was nervous about meeting them. I wondered what they looked like. I wondered what they were like. I wondered if her sister looked like her. I never even saw a photo of any of them. For the past year, I've been too busy becoming accustomed to this new and unusual living and lifestyle arrangement. Has it been a year? I need to buy Lynn an anniversary present. I need to buy Jamie something, too. Besides, the sex was taking up all of my free time, not that I am complaining but, after a while, a guy could use one day without sex.

Finally, she crawled in bed naked beside me. It must be cold outside because she was cold, so very creepy cold that she gave me the shivers. I pulled the blanket over us and wrapped my arms around her to warm her body with mine. I touched her everywhere. I love feeling her naked body and pressing her boobs against my chest and feeling the tickle of her pubic hair on my thighs.

"Welcome home, Baby. I missed you."

Not one at a loss for words, she was ethereally quiet. Now, I knew something was wrong. Now, I knew she was sad and needed me to comfort her. Maybe, she and Jamie had a fight. Maybe, her parents were dead set against her living with me, the old guy. Maybe, she had returned home to talk to me alone. Maybe, this is it. Maybe, it's over between us and she wanted to be alone with me, without Jamie, to tell me. Maybe, she found someone else. If she ever left me, devastated beyond words, I'd miss her spirit. My mind was reeling with suppositions and what ifs of not having Lynn in my life, a thought that I could not bear and even ponder for more than a second.

Then, I wondered about the secret. Beyond curious, I so wanted to ask her. I couldn't wait to find out what the secret was and I almost asked her, but thought better of it. I wanted her to tell me in her own time. Maybe, she got a promotion at work, a raise in pay, or decided to return to school to finally complete her Master's degree, after taking a leave of absence. Maybe she hit the lottery. It would be nice having a young, beautiful rich woman keeping me, instead of having to work as a writer, while hoping to write the next bestseller. Even if she was rich, I'd still write. I'd never give up writing. I was excited to find out what it was that she was keeping from me.

Then, she kissed me. I can't explain it, but her kiss was like the first time she kissed me. It was hauntingly erotic and felt almost as if I was kissing her in a dream. Her kiss aroused me in the way she had aroused me the first time. Suddenly, after just two days away from her everything felt so brand new; it felt as if I had a new girlfriend.

We kissed and kissed. I haven't kissed her as much, since the first time we kissed. Even though we've been getting it on as a couple and as a threesome, it has been a few months since we've made out like this. Kissing is my favorite thing to do in the whole world, French kissing, and Lynn was the best French kisser that I've ever kissed. Her kisses excited me like nothing else. I couldn't get enough of her kisses. Holding her in the moonlight was romantic. Holding her naked body was so erotic. This memory, right here and right now, would last me a lifetime and I never wanted to let her go. Never have I kissed her like this before and never have I been kissed like this before. This was so romantic.

It's weird how, when I finally marry or live with the woman I love, I always get away from kissing. When I date someone, I'm always so crazy mad for kissing. I can't get enough of kissing. We kiss all the time. Then, once I get the person who it is I want, after a while, I forget about kissing. Much like stoking the flames of an eternal fire, the kissing is such an integral part of love making. I'm so glad that Lynn has recaptured and returned the kissing back to our relationship. I love kissing her.

Then, I felt her hand. She reached down and took my already stiffening cock in her hand and began stroking me. It doesn't get any better than to have the woman that I love French kiss me, while stroking my cock. The only time she let go of my cock was to cup and caress my balls. She was so careful not to rupture me and so gentle with her touch. Albeit her hands were still so very cold, cold enough to give me chills, her touch felt so esoterically arousing that not even I understood the seductive control she had over me.

She knew what I liked. She knew how to give me pleasure. She knew all the buttons that she needed to press to make me wild with passion for her. Yet, this time, it was weird. This time, there was no pillow talk, no dirty talk, and no talk at all. I knew, now, that she was terribly upset over something, but what? I hoped that this time with her was not the last time with her. Her hand jobs always felt more like massages than they did a sexual thing and that made them so much more erotic. It doesn't get any better than to get this kind of spiritual hand job from Lynn except to have the woman I love give me a Heavenly blowjob, which she suddenly slid her body down half the length of me and took my cock in her mouth. 

Again, just as were her kisses, when she started sucking my cock, it felt new and fresh, as if it was the first time that she blew me. It really did feel like the first time all over, again. Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder must have had me in mind because this was the best sexual experience that I've ever had, after not having her in my life for only two days. First the French kisses that just curled my toes and hardened my cock, and then the spiritual hand job, and now this Heavenly blowjob, Lynn certainly knew how to arouse me completely and continually.

If she continued blowing me, I was ready to shoot my load in her willing mouth. There was no way that I could hold back, once receiving this much unworldly stimulation to the head of my cock. Suddenly, she stopped and slid up and started kissing me, again. Man we were really making out. I haven't made out with a woman like this, since I was a teenager on Prom night. The emotional feeling that I was getting from just kissing her made me realize how much I missed her and how much I loved her. All of this felt so mystical and so magical. It was the best time that I've ever had with her and I never wanted this warming, lustful, and loving feeling to stop.

She pushed me back and climbed on top of me. Again, it divinely felt, as if I was fucking an Angel and we were making love for the first time. What is happening? This is so bizarre. I didn't want to question something this stupendous, but the feeling that I had with her was totally strange and renewed.

Imagining she was someone else, other than Lynn, I would have freaked out had my arousal not been so erotically exciting. She lifted me to higher heights than I've been lifted to before. We both had an orgasm together, only instead of screaming, instead of waking the dead, she was totally silent in her orgasm, whereas, I was explosive with my screams of pure pleasure and passion. She just held onto me for dear life, as if this was our last night together and that feeling made me afraid that it was. That dire feeling made me want to never let her go.

Never have I felt more love for any woman than I felt for Lynn right now. If there's a God in Heaven, thank you. Thank you for giving me Lynn. 

I kept my arms around her. She was shivering, she was so cold. Figuring that it was something bad, figuring that this was the end of the line for us, as a couple, I so wanted to ask her what was wrong, but knowing Lynn as I do, if she wanted to tell me, she would have told me. Obviously, she wasn't ready to share her feelings with me. No doubt, her parents were dead set against our May/December relationship. Something terrible must have happened on her trip west. Maybe, she's not feeling well. I felt her forehead and she didn't have a fever. She was just so freaking cold.

Sometime during the night, we fell asleep. I don't remember letting her go from my embrace. I know that it was late, when I finally dozed. The last thing that I remember was feeling a cool breeze and seeing the curtain flutter. We made out for a long time, before and after the sex. A marathon occasion, longer than any sexual experience we've had since we've been together as a couple, and longer and more intense than any sexual experience I've ever had with anyone, that night, without doubt, was the best sex that I've ever had with Lynn or with anyone in my entire life.




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 10



After having sex with Lynn like that, I couldn't wait to have sex like that with her tomorrow. After having sex with Lynn like that, I didn't want to have sex with anyone, not even Jamie, not anyone. No one can top that. After that surreal experience with Lynn, I was hers forever.

I was startled awake around 7am, which is late for me. Usually, I'm up by 5am. Jamie was sitting on the edge of the bed staring down at me. I figured Lynn was in the shower, already. Only, I hoped she made coffee or was making coffee.

"Hi," I said rubbing the sleep from my eyes and looking up at her.

It was obvious that she had been crying. It was obvious by the look on her face that there was something dreadfully wrong. Now, I knew that she and Lynn must have had a horrible argument. Maybe, this is it for the threesome. Maybe, Jamie is moving out. Yeah, I bet that's it. Jamie is leaving. Normally, I would have felt bad, really bad, about Jamie leaving, but after what transpired early this morning with n Lynn, to be honest, I was glad she was going. No more threesomes, no more bi-sexual sex of the lesbian kind, I wanted Lynn all to myself. I was no longer willing to share Lynn with anyone, even Jamie.

Only, Jamie surprised me, when she fell into my arms crying. I felt bad, really bad. Definitely, she could stay here longer. I wasn't about to kick her out, that's for sure. I held her without saying anything. I waited for her to speak. I waited for her to say something, anything. I needed to know what was wrong. I just stayed like that holding her and thinking about the sex that I had with Lynn earlier this morning. I was still glowing from that sexually erotic experience. I was so sexually satisfied, after having sex with Lynn that even though I was naked, I didn't even think about fondling Jamie's big tits or feeling her firm, round ass. My thoughts were with Lynn.

"Jamie, where's Lynn?" I was hoping that Lynn would take care of Jamie, so that I could get up and get dressed.

Jamie just started bawling. She broke down sobbing. She was shaking, she was crying so hard. Definitely, they must have had a horrible fight. I wondered what over? I wondered, if it had something to do with me. Maybe Jamie was in love with me. Maybe it had something to do with the secret, whatever that was. Maybe, the secret is that Lynn wanted Jamie to leave. Maybe, that's why she is crying. Maybe, she thinks that by crying that I'll be sympathetic and overrule Lynn, and ask her to stay, since this is my house. My mind rambled with all of the possibilities.

"What? What's the matter, Jamie? Did you two have a fight? What is it? Tell me. Where's Lynn?"

"Lynn's dead."

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 11



Chapter 11

Lynn's younger sister, Gwen, comes for a weekend visit.

The words did not register. I heard them but did not understand them. What nonsense is she saying to me? How can Lynn be dead, when I was just with her early this morning?

"There was a crash...Lynn's dead...Lynn's dead...she's dead."

I pushed her away and sat up in bed.

"Lynn! Lynn!" I jumped out of bed and searched the house. "Lynn! Lynn!" I returned to the bedroom to confront Jamie.

"She's gone, Freddie. She's gone," said Jamie collapsing with me on the bed.

"What do you mean? Lynn! Where are you? Lynn! Don't fuck around like this, Jamie. This isn't funny," I said pushing at Jamie's shoulder and still not believing her. "This isn't funny." I couldn't even say the word dead. "Don't fuck around like that!" I said to Jamie shaking her. "That's no joke. That's not fucking funny, Jamie. That's not fucking funny." I looked in her eyes and I knew. "Where's my Lynn? Where's my Lynn?" I pulled her to me and just started crying.

Falling into my arms, Jamie submitted herself to me sobbing and sobbing and I knew then that what she said was true. Only, it made no sense, she was just here with me. We made love. How could she be dead?

"When did this happen?"

"Last night."

"Last night? When last night? What time?"

"Some time just before eleven and was pronounced dead just after midnight. A drunk driver fell asleep at the—"

"Where were you?"

"I was at her parent's house. Lynn went out to pick her sister up at a friend's house. On the way there, she was only a few miles from home, when a drunk driver slammed head on into her car," said Jamie through tears and gasps for breath.

"She was here, Jamie. She was here with me." I looked at Jamie horrified that it was not a dream and all so real. "We made love. She was here with me."

"No, she couldn't have been with you," she said looking at me, as if I had lost my mind. "I was at the hospital, when they pronounced her dead. Maybe you were psychically connected to her, but you must have been dreaming. She died at the hospital, Freddie, Lynn's dead. She's dead," she said sobbing.

"No, it wasn't a dream. I wasn't dreaming. It was real. Seymour...even Seymour whined like he does when she comes home from work. I heard her greet him downstairs." I looked at Jamie and shook her. "She was here with me. We kissed. We hugged. We made love. I was holding her. We both fell asleep."

"Freddie, she's gone."

There was a long pause, where we just held one another without either of us saying anything. 

"Did she say anything before...before she died?"

"She said to tell her you that she loved you and that she was sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

"I imagine sorry for dying," said Jamie with a shrug, while blowing her nose.

Jamie softly sobbed, again.

We stayed like that laying in bed holding one another and comforting one another for an hour or so, until she fell asleep and I got up to make coffee. I was in shock expecting it all to be a bad joke and expecting Lynn to walk through the door any minute. My mind reeled with unfinished thoughts and I didn't know what I was doing. I had to dump the coffee back in and recount the number of scoops three times. When Jamie fell asleep, I let her sleep but she only slept for half an hour. She joined me in the kitchen and we sat and talked over morning coffee.

"Her parents are making the arrangements and," she said looking at me, as if wondering if she should tell me or not.

"What?" I looked at her, while waiting for her to continue.

"They don't want to include you in the funeral services. I'm sorry," she said. 

"I understand them not wanting me there at her funeral, but I can't understand why they are denying me to I see Lynn. Why can't I say good-bye to her?" I looked at Jamie with so many questions and having a hard time formulating any of them and having just as a hard time picking which one to ask first. "I'd just like to say good-bye to her," I said crying.

"They're having a private service with family only. Even I'm not allowed to go, her best friend," said Jamie with sadness. "I guess they blame me for her death, as much as they blame you."

"They blame me for her death? Why?" Suddenly, I hated her parents.

"Had she not moved to Massachusetts from New York, had she not traveled to New York to see her parents, she'd still be alive," said Jamie with another shrug. "It's crazy, I know, but they're grieving, while trying to make sense of it all."

"Maybe they're right, somewhat. Had she stayed with me and not traveled to New York, she'd still be alive." I looked at Jamie with curiosity. "Tell me this, then, why did she suddenly go to see her parents?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"No. What? Tell me what? She said that it was just girl talk. She did say that she had a secret and would tell me what it was when she returned. She said it was a good secret. Do you know what the secret was?"

"If she didn't tell you, Freddie," she said looking at him, before looking away. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you either."

"What? Tell me. Don't deny me that. At least tell me what her--"

"She was pregnant. She was pregnant with your baby. She was so happy. The doctor who tried to save her told me that the fetus was that of a boy."

I just started crying. This was too much to take in all at once. First my girlfriend, the love of my life is dead, and now our unborn baby, our son is dead.

Jamie and I stayed together for a few months after Lynn's death. Although we found it comforting at first to be together, until we found it too painful to be together. Everything we did and/or said reminded us of Lynn. We both loved Lynn in different ways and that paralleled and interfered with how we felt about one another. She moved away. The last that I heard was she was living with some guy somewhere.

When Lynn died, I felt as if I had died, too. Her dog was a constant reminder of her and I cherished Seymour. He was a total goof around my dog. My dog being the dominate one; it was weird to see this giant Rhodesian Ridgeback being so submissive to a diminutive Rat Terrier.

Slowly, I was getting back to where I was. Only, I realized that I'll never get back to where I was but, at least, I was getting up in the morning, getting washed and dressed, and not going to bed drunk. Then, from out of the blue, I got an eerie telephone call.

"Hello?'

"Freddie?"

The voice on the other end sounded just like Lynn's voice. She even said my name the same way.

"Lynn?"

My heart was pounding. Maybe Lynn really isn't dead. Maybe the whole thing was a joke or a way for Lynn to end our relationship.

"No, this is Gwen, Lynn's sister."

I thought it was Lynn calling from beyond the grave. Only, it was Gwen, Lynn's younger sister. They sounded exactly alike. Jamie had given her my telephone number and had encouraged her to call me, when she was feeling up to talking to me. She wanted to meet me, come visit me for a few days, and collect Lynn's personal possessions. She wanted to hear what I had to tell her about her sister and how she lived her life with me.

Just out of college, she was only 23-years-old and wanted to move east to Boston to start her career in journalism. She had just gotten a job with CBS Nightly news as a News Desk Assignment Editor, a ground floor opportunity, while being groomed as an On-Camera Reporter. Certainly, she was good looking enough to work in front of the camera, instead of behind it. The job started in a few of weeks, not giving her much time to collect Lynn's things, find a place to live in Massachusetts, and move her things from New York.

I watched her from the window pull up in her car, a cherry red BMW 1 series. Once she emerged from her car and turned to face me, my heart skipped a beat. The resemblance was startling. She looked just like her sister, Lynn. She was the same height, had same hair color, and she had the same magnificent body. Had I not known Lynn was dead, I'd have thought that her sister, Gwen, was her. She was a dead ringer for her. I stepped out on the front porch taking the dogs with me. The dogs greeted her first.

"Hi," I said from the porch as she stepped from her car, "welcome." I watched the dogs vie for her attention. "I hope you like dogs."

"I love dogs," she said smiling and giving both Seymour and Polo lots of love.

I outstretched my hand as she approached me with a big smile. She surprised me by walking up to me, bypassing my hand, and giving me a big hug and a smooch on the lips. Then, she hugged me again. I stood there for a few seconds afraid to touch her. until I submitted to her will and wrapped my big arms around her shapely body.

It took all the control that I had not to imagine that I was hugging Lynn. It took all the control that I had not to reach down and cup her sweet ass, which is what I always did to Lynn when holding her and hugging her. Gwen felt so much like Lynn; she smelled like Lynn, and her hair was just like Lynn's. We remained like that hugging one another for a few minutes, until she released me from her hold.

"It's so great to finally meet you," she said with a big smile that made me smile, too. "My sister and Jamie couldn't say enough about you." When she broke her hug, she stepped back from me to give me an approving stare. "I thought they were exaggerating but now that I see you in person, they did not nearly say enough good things about you," she said with a smile. "They were right," she said waiting for me to respond.

"Right about what?"

"With your muscular build, you look like that western actor from the 60's, Clint Walker."

"Clint Walker? I haven't heard that name in years, since the movie, the Dirty Dozen. How do you know him from the 60's?"

"My Dad is a huge western fan and Clint Walker was his favorite cowboy, when he played that gunfighter, Cheyenne Bodie."

"Do I look like him now that he's in his 80's or before when he was younger?"

"You look like him before, when he was younger, of course," she said laughing.

"...And you look so much like..." 

I could not help but stare at her. She was just as beautiful as was her big sister. I t was such a cruel joke to play on someone mourning the loss of his love to have someone, who looks exactly like the person I just lost. I couldn't imagine how Lynn's parents must have felt having Gwen around as Lynn's mirror image. They looked so much alike that they could have been identical twins.

Seeing Gwen and talking to her was shocking, jolting, and created bittersweet flashbacks filled with excitement and sorrow. I needed to sit down before I fell down and collapsed on the porch bench. She sat beside me and took my hand in hers. I looked down at her hand as my fingers encompassed her small, soft hand, a hand that felt so much like Lynn's hand. Her fingers were exactly the same as Lynn's.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?"

I looked up at her. She was so beautiful, as beautiful as was Lynn that I just wanted to kiss her, while pretending that I was kissing Lynn.

"I mean, I knew you were her sister, but I never expected you to look so much like her, exactly like her. You two could have been twins. It's startling," I said with a pause collecting my thoughts. She looked at me waiting for me to finish. "I'm sorry, but it's painful for me to relive her in you."

"I'm sorry, I should have warned you, somehow." She sat beside me silently holding my hand. "Do you want me to leave?" She looked up at me with Lynn's blue/grey eyes.

"Leave?" I looked over at her smiling and patting her hand. "No, of course not, I'm so glad that you're here. Just give me a minute to..." I looked at her again suddenly feeling the urge to kiss her again. "God, you're just as beautiful...just give me a moment."

Her voice, her diction, and her mannerisms were all so much the same as Lynn's. It was scary uncanny. Immediately, I was attracted to her. Still too soon, still grieving over Lynn, I never got to say good-bye to her. Immediately, as if she was Lynn reincarnated, I wanted to take her to bed. I stood and pulled her up with me.

"C'mon, let's go inside and I'll show you the house and your room."

We went inside the house and I made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, which was the bedroom at the end of the hall. She insisted that she stay in the same room that her sister had, before Lynn and I started sleeping together in our threesome arrangement with Jamie. Not having to share a bathroom, having her own, it was as if she had her own suite. The arrangement afforded her a level of privacy, if she so wanted it.

At this point, after meeting her, reliving Lynn in her strong resemblance, and hearing her voice and watching her mannerisms, with everything about her reminding me of her sister, I would accommodate her in any way that would make her stay longer. Already saddened about her leaving, I never wanted her to go. I wanted her to stay longer than the weekend that she had planned. I wanted her to stay with me forever, I guess to replace her sister, so that I wouldn't hurt so badly.

Suddenly, the thought of Gwen in my life, instead of Lynn, was so perversely offensive to me that I almost vomited. Surely, I knew that even though they looked so much alike, they were two individual people with different feelings, wants, and needs. Still, I was giddy with happiness that she was there with me in my house and in my little world, which suddenly expanded greatly, again. 

Her visit was uplifting. I was happy that she was here. When I first saw her, and how much she looked like Lynn, I expected to be miserably depressed and I wanted to send her away. Instead, once I accepted how much she looked like Lynn, it was just the opposite. In a weird way, with not having a chance to say good-bye to Lynn, her visit was cathartic, enabling me somehow to get closure in the sudden and tragic death of Lynn through her sister.

In a morbidly perverse sense, this was my way of talking to the dead through the living and it was a way for me to discover things that I didn't know, didn't have a chance to know about Lynn. I found learning more about Lynn growing up as a child so very healing and comforting. If nothing else, she took my mind off my mourning. The mere activity of talking to her kept my mind busy and my spirits lifted.

I helped her with her things, moving what she needed and helping her to arrange the empty closet. No one had been here since Jamie moved out some months ago. I wasn't only excited about having a roommate again, albeit a temporary roommate, but the fact that she looked so much like Lynn lifted my spirits from the depressed state that I had been in lately. If nothing else, she was a diversion and someone to talk to for a few days.

I had been feeling so lonely and Gwen helped me through my loneliness. Only, I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at her and not to call her Lynn. She was just so damn beautiful and looked so much like her sister, that I was instantly attracted to her.

"Do you drink coffee?" I said hoping she'd say yes.

"Coffee? Yes. I'm addicted," she said.

"Great." I'll put on a fresh pot. "Lynn and I..." I paused not knowing if I should proceed to talk about Lynn to her.

"Please, I want you to talk about my sister. That's why I'm here," she said suddenly looking very sad. I felt her pain and gave her a hug. "Maybe, somehow, my visit can help us both heal," she said looking at me with her soft blue-grey eyes.

"Okay," I said not knowing where to begin.

"Lynn moved out of the house, while I was still in high school, and then I went off to college. So, I haven't spent as much time as I would have like to with my big sister. I was hoping that you could help me by telling me more about her, the things that I didn't know about her."

"In that regard, we have that in common. I was hoping that you could tell me about Lynn as a child and what it was like growing up with her." We smiled at one another and I felt that I should continue the conversation, telling her about the Lynn that I knew. 

"It's a deal," she said. "You tell me how Lynn lived her life with you and I'll tell you about how she grew up as a child."

"We always had coffee this time of the afternoon," I said volunteering what information that came to mind. "Then, we'd take our cups to the back screened in porch where we sat and talked about everything and laughed over nothing, while watching the dogs play."

"I'll tell you what," she said, "you show me the kitchen and I'll make the coffee."

She was just like her sister, taking charge of things.

The dogs abandoned me to follow her and I could not blame them. Who said dogs are dumb. I'd follow her, someone who looked as good as Lynn, to the end of the earth.

I put out some biscuits to have with our coffee and as soon as it brewed, we took our cups out back. She even took her coffee the same as did Lynn, black with one sugar.

At times, it was difficult to talk to her without staring, without swooning, and without wanting to lean over to kiss her. Although, I had never seen a photo of her, certainly, I felt as if I already knew her from what Lynn had told me about her baby sister. Whenever she looked away, I studied her face looking for the smallest imperfection in her to make me realize that she wasn't Lynn. Physically, she was an identical, genetic copy.

Perversely perverted, I listened intently as she talked to me wondering, while what she looked like naked. Being that I was grieving over Lynn, while sitting here with a carbon copy of her, how could I not wonder what she looked like without her clothes? I wondered if her tits were the same. Wondering if she was shaved, trimmed, or bushy, I wondered if her pussy tasted the same. I wondered what she was like in bed. I wondered if she talked dirty and if she screamed when she had an orgasm.

I couldn't believe that I was already undressing this nice, young lady with my eyes. I couldn't believe that I was such a degenerate. Yet, I missed Lynn so very much and here was her sister looking so much like my lost love, I couldn't help but imagine Gwen in all sorts of sexual and depraved positions. I had to force myself to think of something else, anything else to say to take my mind of sex.

"Do you like baseball?"

"Yeah, my whole family follows the games."

"How 'bout those Red Sox? I can't believe they won another World Series. Do you think they'll become a baseball dynasty like the Yankees used to be?"

"I hope not, being that I'm a Yankees fan," she said with a laugh.

"Yeah, that's right. You guys are from New York. I forgot."

She helped me with dinner, tuna steaks with brown rice and peas. Even though I opened a bottle of wine and offered her some, I decided to forgo the wine. Since Lynn died, I've numbed enough of my days with alcohol.

"This is the perfect wine with fish," I said. "I apologize for not joining you in a drink but I've had more than my share of wine over the past few months."

"Oh, that's okay, I understand. I found myself drinking more than usual and had to make a conscious effort not to drink," she said pausing to take a sip of her wine. She paused again, perhaps, while reflecting on what she was about to say. "Unfortunately, my mother has been drinking more than she ever did in the past. Lynn's death has hit her the hardest."

"I hope that I can still meet your parents, one day."

"My father, in his convoluted logic, blames you for Lynn's death."

"He does? How?" I was stunned by this sudden revelation, even though Jamie had touched upon her family somehow blaming me for Lynn's death.

"He said had Lynn not moved to Massachusetts from upstate New York, she would have not fallen asleep at the wheel." She looked at my pained expression. "See? I told you it was convoluted. She could have died anywhere, anytime. Obviously, it was her time to go." 




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 11



"I understand your father not wanting to like me. We're nearly the same age, after all. And if it makes him feel better in his grief to blame someone for the loss of his daughter, than I can shoulder that burden," I said with a sad smile, while nodding my head.

"You're a good man, Freddie," she said consuming her first glass and allowing me to pour her a second. "I can see why my sister fell in love with you."

She stood, kicked out her chair, and leaned over the dining room table, and when I stood to meet her, I had a nice down blouse view of her bra and ample cleavage. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and a hug. Then, when she pulled her chair back to the table and moved to sit, with a quick flash, her white panties peeked out their hello with a triangular, over her thighs, as she sat in her chair. Maybe, it was the hot coffee that I was drinking, but suddenly I was feeling warm, hot actually, after having a down blouse view of Gwen's bra and an up skirt view of her panty.

Again, unable to help myself, lonely and sad, I wondered what Gwen looked like naked. I wondered if she looked like her mother or her father. I imagined that if she looked like her mother that I'd be attracted to her mother, too. I laughed to myself. Who's next? Am I going to want to fuck her mother, too, if I had the chance to meet her and, maybe even her grandmother, if I was ever to meet her?

"The wine is very good," she said. "It goes down too easy and doesn't burn at all like most of the wine that I drank too much of in college."

"Ah, I see you've grown accustom to wine of questionable vintages," I said laughing. "I assure you that you'll find no Boones Farm Apple wine in this house, only French, Italian, and a few bottles of Californian."

"Yeah, well, when you're in college, you buy what you can afford and I could only afford the wine with the screw top bottles."

Wondering how much of a party girl she was, I suddenly envisioned her drunk at a dorm party. I suddenly pictured her wearing a barely there bikini at spring break and exposing her tits to everyone. It surprised even me, when I said what I was thinking.

"So, are you one of those naughty and fun loving girls that they show on Spring break doing the wet T-shirt contest or the bikini contest?"

"Oh, yeah, I did all of that and more. Trust me, I was wicked naughty," she said with a dirty laugh. "I must admit though that I look fabulous in a bikini, that is, when I wasn't walking around topless," she said striking a pose that made her tits look even bigger. "It was fun. Only, much like Lindsay Lohan, I can't hold my alcohol."

She can't hold her alcohol? Well, that's certainly good to know.

"In that case, drink up. I'll open another bottle," I said laughing, while suddenly thinking about her walking around my living room in just her bikini panties and nothing else.

"Trust me, Freddie," she said giving me a sexy look, "if I have more than couple of glasses of this delicious wine," she said holding up her glass to swirl around the wine, "you'll be putting me to bed and taking advantage of me, I'm afraid."

"Well, rest assured, Gwen, that I'd put you to bed and probably undress you, so as not to wrinkle your clothes," I said in a voice that impersonated the late, great comedian, W. C. Fields, "but I'd never take advantage of you, Lynn's baby sister."

"Well, that's good to know." She laughed. "As far as undressing me, I'm much like my sister in that regard, we could have been nudists. My mother is like that, also. I can't tell you how many nude beaches we've frequented, but my Dad is an absolute prude."

I made note of the nudist remark. Suddenly, drunk and naked, I imagined seeing Gwen, her mother, and Lynn standing together on the sand of a nude beach with nothing on but a smile. Damn, I was so freaking horny right then.

"Do you smoke?"

I looked at her sitting pretty in her smart, short skirt and button white blouse. Whenever she crossed her legs, she flashed me a triangular patch of white panty and every time she leaned forward, I was rewarded with a nice down blouse view of her ample cleavage. Damn, she has nice tits. Stop staring, Freddie, I repeated to myself. Feeling so much like the pervert that I am, I felt like I was leering at her, especially every time she crossed her legs or leaned forward. 

"No," she said with a toss of her hair, the same toss that Lynn did that made me crazy with desire for her, whenever she looked up at me and was about to tell me something about herself. "I was a runner in high school and in college." She gave me a sexy smile. "And I'll have you know that I was on the swim team, as well," she said putting a hand to her hip and flashed me a supermodel smile. 

"Yeah, I can see that," I said admiring her figure. "With your broad shoulders and slim waist, you have more of a swimmer's figure than you do a runners body."

"Do you smoke?"

"Nah, I never did. I was into boxing heavily at a very young age." I took a sip of my coffee. "My uncle owned a famous boxing gym in Boston across from the Boston Garden. I was the only white kid there."

"I'm tired," she said with a yawn and a sexy stretch.

"Come, let's get you to bed. We can sit and talk tomorrow. You must be tired after that long drive."

"No, actually, if you don't mind, I'd like to stay up and talk for a while longer," she said while pouring herself another glass of wine, a third glass, "and have another glass of this fine wine."

"Well, I'm glad that you're not driving because if wine treats your head the way that it attacks mine, it has a way of sneaking up on you." I laughed. "Let me know when you're ready for the wet T-shirt contest and I'll get the hose and some dollar bills to stuff down your panties."

"I think one more glass will put me in that mood," she said with a sexy laugh and a naughty look.

We adjourned to the comfort of the living room. I offered her the softness of the sofa, while I took my usual voyeur seat across from her in the soft, worn leather of the recliner. She had another glass of wine, her fourth glass, while I settled for another cup of hot, strong, black coffee. I knew that either she'd be sleeping where she was sitting or I'd be carrying her to bed. Hoping for the later, instead of the former, I imagined having to strip off her clothes for bed.

After a while, I watched her eyes briefly close, as she began to slur her words. Lynn was the same way. Whenever she had more than one glass of wine, she was tipsy. Now, with Gwen consuming nearly four glasses within a two hour period, I figured she was a bit drunk. With her skirt raised past the top of her thigh and her panty clad ass fully exposed, I watched her, as she set her empty glass down, before leaning over to the side and passed out asleep.

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 12



Chapter 12

Drunk & asleep, stripping Lynn's little sister, Gwen, naked.

As soon as she fell to the side, her short skirt climbed up the back of her thigh and she gave me a wonderful up skirt view of her white, bikini panty clad ass. Now, with her taking a drunken nap, I could stare at her in peace without making her feel uncomfortable and I sat like that watching her to see if she'd awaken. Still grieving the loss of Lynn and with her baby sister looking so much like her, I couldn't stop myself from staring at her. She was just so damn beautiful.

She had such long, lovely, long legs, as shapely was her big sister's legs. Quickly, I became excited by the exposed panty vision of her. A double edged sword, even though ogling Gwen's panties momentarily stopped me from missing her sister, ogling Gwen made me miss Lynn. She had the same shapely ass that I remembered Lynn having.

When Gwen didn't move, using not wanting her to sleep there on the sofa as my excuse, should she awaken while carrying her, I allowed my cock to react to the thoughts of carrying her to bed. Then, I sexually exciting thought about undressing her took hold of me, as if it was a fever. Did I dare do remove her clothes? We joked about me taking advantage of her, when she was drunk, and stripping her naked. She even acted as if it was no big deal for me to see her naked. Like her sister and her mother, she could have been a nudist, she said. Now, with her nudism in mind, I so wanted to see her naked.

I so wanted to see how much she looked like Lynn without her clothes. Only, undressing her would be so wrong. Yet, missing Lynn so terribly much and, if only for just one night of pretending Gwen was Lynn, I so wanted to touch her, hold her, and kiss her. Deciding to go ahead and undress her and to see how far she'd allow me to go, before awakening from her drunken sleep, I imagined her allowing me to strip her. Besides, it was late, I was horny, and I needed to see Gwen naked.

Hoping she didn't awaken, I waited a few minutes to see if she'd awaken on her own but when she started breathing deeply and regularly, I figured she was sleeping soundly and it was time to put her to bed. Looking so much like a blonde, busty angel, and looking so much like her sister, if wearing a blonde wig, she was in a deep, drunken sleep. Gently, trying not to awaken her, I lifted her off of the sofa and carried her in my arms.

Even her weight felt about the same as her sister's. I figured she was 115 pounds. I allowed my nose to smell the fragrance of her hair. Her hair smelled wonderful. As I carried her, my hand came in contact with the side of her breast. It felt firm. I so missed Lynn's tits. Lynn had amazing breasts. Carefully, I laid her upon her bed. Her skirt had risen around the middle of her thigh and clearly, I could see her panty, along with the impression her pussy slit made in her panty.

It took all the control that I had not to fall between her legs and lick her pussy through her panty. It took all the control that I had not to move her panty aside with my fingers and finger fuck her, as she slept. Only, being that I still wanted to strip her, I didn't want to ruin things. I didn't want to awaken her.

As if she was drugged, indeed she was, drugged with alcohol, she slept so peacefully. Resisting the urge to strip her, trying to control my lust for my dead girlfriend's baby sister, I thought about leaving her dressed in her clothes and sleeping. I thought about the ramifications of what she'd say if I undressed her. What if she was angry that I had taken it upon myself to strip her naked? Not wanting her to abruptly leave without having her tell me more about Lynn as a child, I didn't want her to be upset with me. Only, I was so very sexually excited seeing her lying there with her panty fully exposed.

Her parents already thought me enough of a pervert by sleeping with one daughter, what would they think of me, if Gwen told them that I stripped her naked? Yet, with a drunken, beautiful woman, helplessly sleeping in my house, my horniness overruled my resistance and, selfishly, I decided that I didn't care about her feelings and about the ramifications. I decided to risk it all by stripping Gwen naked. Once I made the decision to strip her, I was so excited. An opportunity of a lifetime, I may never have this chance with her again. I needed to see Gwen naked. Being that she looked so much like a blonde version of her sister, I needed to see my Lynn naked, again.

I sat beside her on the bed stroking her dyed, blonde hair, while waiting to see if the touch of my hand to her hair would awaken her. Being that she looked so much younger than 23-years-old, she reminded me of a sleeping child. Being that I was so much older than her and she was so much younger, I suddenly felt like a pedophile by having the thoughts of undressing her.

As if giving my sleeping beauty the opportunity to awaken and to stop me from stripping her, I leaned down and softly kissed her lips. It was a loving kiss and she surprised me when she opened her mouth, surrendered her tongue, and returned my kiss with a French kiss. Figuring that it was an involuntary reflex, I couldn't believe that I was French kissing Lynn's 23-year-old sleeping sister. After our kiss, tempted to give her another, I looked at her to see if she was still sleeping and she was. 

With only a two year difference between the age of the sisters, I looked down at her at her face, instead of her body. Barely looking 18-years-old, she looked so very young, so much younger than Lynn. Definitely, if I was a bartender, I'd card her before serving her a drink. When she was born, I was 27-years-old. When she graduated high school at 18-years-old, I was 45-years-old. What's wrong with me to sexually lust over someone so young? She's young enough to be my daughter, but I didn't care.

With that one kiss, she gave me an erection. I figured someone this beautiful must have been kissed thousands of times by dozens of admirers. I wondered if she had a boyfriend, a steady man, a fuck buddy, or a friend with benefits in her life. We never got to broach that subject before the wine took control of her and had its effects on her. Yet, even though I so wanted to undress her, watching her so peacefully sleep, as if I was there watching one of my daughters sleep, suddenly feeling so much like the dirty, old man that I am, I was reluctant to despoil the image of her lying there, as if she was a virgin. Then, I realized, while looking for justification to strip her, much wilder and more sexually sophisticated than was her big sister, this woman is no virgin. Oh, yeah, with college dorm parties, drunken spring break wet tee shirt and topless contests, she's been around. Even her own sister called her a slut but with affection.

Expecting her to awaken at any moment, yet, wanting her to touch me, wanting her to feel me, after missing Lynn's hand on my cock, gently, I took her hand and moved it to the bulge in my pants. As if it belonged there, her small, warm hand felt so good on my erection. Controlling the urge, I wanted to unzip myself, pull out my cock, and wrap her unconscious fingers around it. I couldn't help but wonder, if I moved my cock across her lips, if she'd take it in her mouth to give me a sleeping blowjob, while dreaming of blowing someone.

She looked so pretty sleeping so soundly. Ever so gently, I lifted her skirt with my fingertips and raised it to just above her crotch. I wanted to see her legs. I wanted to see more of her panty clad pussy mound. She had beautiful legs with slender and shapely thighs. Then, slowly, as if I was a safecracker cracking a safe that had a trigger alarm, button by button, I gently unbuttoned her white cotton blouse, while looking to see what each unbuttoned button revealed before continuing.

She wore a white, low cut, lacy bra. Her breasts overflowed the cups of her bra and I gently massaged the tops of her breasts with both my hands. So soft, so supple, and yet so firm, I couldn't wait to see her tits. I couldn't wait to suck her nipples. Figuring she'd awaken any second, I was so brazen in undressing her. Only, bad enough that I put her hand on my cock through my pants, lifted her skirt to exposed her white, bikini panties, and unbuttoned her blouse to reveal her fabulous bra clad breasts, dare I remove her bra and panty too?

Her tits were a little bigger than Lynn's tits, possibly as big as Jamie's breasts. Only, where Jamie's breasts were silicon confections, Lynn's breasts, even when hidden by her bra, felt and appeared natural. Did I dare remove her bra? As nervous as I was sticking my hand down my Prom date's gown to feel her tits and finger her nipples, while in the backseat of my car so very long ago, I was just as nervous undressing Gwen. Just as I thought I was doing something wrong then by feeling up a young women who was so formally dressed, here I am about to feel up a young woman who's so informally dressed. It's funny how times like these trigger familiar emotions.

I reached out my horny hands to feel Gwen's tits through her bra. Her breasts were beautiful. They felt so round, so full, and so firm. Definitely, they were natural; I could tell. Clearly, I could see the impressions that her nipples made in the satin material of her bra and I thought it odd that her nipples would be so erect, while she was so soundly sleeping. It made me wonder if she was pretending to be asleep.

When seeing the impressions of her nipples made through her bra made me want to run my palm across them, Only fearing that I'd awaken her, I controlled the urge to pull her nipples out more with my fingertips. Then, I wondered if women were the same as men getting sexually aroused as they slept. I know that I get plenty of erections when sleeping. Relegated now to having to take Viagra, I wish I could have captured and bottled some of my sleeping erections and save them for when I needed them, when awake, and now that I'm older. Maybe, when I French kissed her she suddenly became aroused. 

When her blouse was all unbuttoned, I flayed it open. I couldn't help myself and felt her big tits through her bra, while careful not to fondle her nipples, as I didn't want to awaken her. There's nothing like the sensation of feeling a woman's tits through her bra. They felt amazing. She had wonderful tits and I couldn't wait to see them, touch them, fondle them, caress them, and suck them. I reached over to unbutton the buttons on her sleeves. I didn't want to try to remove her blouse yet for fear of waking her and for fear that my little strip tease show would end prematurely, before I had stripped her naked.

Next, I unbuttoned the button of her short skirt and ever so slowly unzipped it. There, as I had already seen, when she had fallen over on the couch, were her white, bikini panties. Slowly, as if a pickpocket removing a wallet from someone's pant pocket, I pulled her skirt down and off. If there's anything that will give me a raging erection is seeing a beautiful woman in her bra and panty and now I had a full erection. She wore her bra and panties as if they were a snow white bikini. She had the body of a lingerie model and the face of a cover girl, movie star.

The gene pool of this family is amazing. I could only imagine what her mother looked like. Then, being the pervert that I am, I thought that maybe her mother would want to come for a visit too. Then, like daughters, like mother, maybe her intolerance for alcohol runs in the family and with a little wine, I may get to strip naked the mother, too. Who knows, maybe once grandma discovers that I stripped her daughter and granddaughters naked, she'll want to come for a visit, too. My mind was reeling with three generations of Lynn's naked female family members, before I refocused my attention back to Gwen.

Just as Lynn had, Gwen had a flat, toned stomach, but different from Lynn, who didn't have any tattoos, Gwen had a little tattoo of a diamond just above her panty. I found the tattoo enticingly erotic and wondered if she meant that she was a gem to be uncovered or her pussy was a jewel to be discovered. Maybe, she was a diamond in the rough who liked sex rough. Who knows what she meant, but her tattoo served its purpose in getting and maintaining my undivided attention in wanting to see her pussy.

I couldn't wait to lick her tattoo. There's something so viscerally appealing about a woman who gets a tattoo, so long as she doesn't overdo it. I enjoy the subtle artistic surprise of the story behind a creative tattoo, a tattoo that's covered by her clothing, that's only seen when removing her clothes or, in my case, stripping her naked.

Gently and taking care that her head didn't flop back, I sat her up, removed her blouse, and unhooked her bra without removing it and laid her back down on the bed. Hoping she didn't, I watched her to see for any sign of her awakening. She was dead asleep. As if unwrapping a very expensive gift, I wanted to savor the moment when I revealed her breasts to my horny eyes. She was so stunningly beautiful. I didn't know which to do first, panties or bra and, being that her bra was already unhooked and would be easier to remove than her panties, I excitedly decided to remove her bra first. I figured that if I tried removing her panties first and if she awakened, then I'd never get to see her breasts. My hands were shaking, I was so excited.

Gradually, careful not to rouse her from her silent slumber, I slid each bra strap down and off her shoulders before peeling away her bra cups from her perfect tits. The spectacular sight of her breasts was amazing. I looked at the tag on her bra, 36C the same size as her sister. Yet, where Lynn was a small 36C, Gwen was a full 36C, so full that she probably could have worn a 36D, but her tits look so much better in a tight bra than they would in a bra that fit her. The same nipples and areolas, they were just like Lynn's tits perfect in every way only just a tad bigger and fuller. 

Oh, God, how I so wanted to fall upon her breasts and take her nipples in my mouth but I didn't dare. So afraid of waking her before getting to see her completely naked, I didn't want to awaken her. Besides, it's one thing to strip her naked on the pretense of putting her to bed to not wrinkle her clothes, albeit a weak excuse, it's quite another thing entirely to sexually assault her. I didn't want to do sexually assault Lynn's younger sister, even although stripping her naked was sexual assault. If she so wanted, she could have me arrested, but my mind was somewhere between her tits and my better judgment was buried in her pussy.

Next, I peeled her panties down and off. Now, she lay naked before my eyes. She was shaved. Her pussy was totally free of hair and stubble. She must have shaved before coming here. I wondered if she shaved her pussy especially for me. I wondered, as she was shaving her pussy, if she was thinking of me eating her silky, smooth pussy. With her pussy shaved in that flawless way, she looked brand new.

Only, I was disappointed. I prefer a neatly trimmed pussy to a shaved or bushy pussy. I guess that the reason why I prefer trimmed to shaved pussies is that I prefer women to girls. Being that she was so very young to begin with and looked even younger with her not looking her age, now with her pussy shaved, she looked like a little girl. Gently and slowly, I pushed her legs apart by her ankles. Her pussy lips glistened in the light. She was sexually aroused. She was wet.

I was so tempted to lick her and probe her with my fingers. I wanted to strip off my clothes and fuck her. It was then that the realization hit me. My God, she's even younger than Lynn. She's only 23-years-old, just having turned 23-years-old, at that, and I'm more than twice her age. Only, even though she had face of a teenager, she had the body of a woman.

No matter her age and how young she looked, truly, I'm a dirty, old man ogling Lynn's baby sister, who I just stripped naked. What the Hell is wrong with me? I just sexually assaulted Lynn's little sister. Now, I felt guilty. Now I felt bad. Only, I was too horny to care.

Not wanting to violate her any more than I had, needing to leave her room before I raped her, gently and slowly, I lifted her to put her legs beneath the top sheet and covered her with that. I returned to my room with the erotic thoughts of seeing Gwen naked. Unable to fall asleep thinking of fucking Gwen, my hand found my cock. I closed my eyes and slowly stroked myself back to a nice erection.

Wanting this masturbation session to last a long while, I slowed my strokes to make sure that I didn't get too excited, prematurely excited enough to cum. With the thoughts of my cock buried in Lynn's pussy or her on her knees sucking me, I stopped, whenever I reached the point of heightened arousal and the point of no return. Just as it was so sexually exciting to see Gwen naked, it was so sexually exciting to undress her. Not wanting to cum, yet, I wanted to continue the vision of Gwen naked in my mind, while my hand gently and slowly stroked myself to an orgasm. Only, I was interrupted before I could cum.

"Freddie...I don't feel well...I'm going to be sick."

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 13



My eyes popped open. There she was standing by my bed naked and looking down at me, while watching me stroke myself. Quickly, I covered my cock with my hand. How long had she been standing there? She caught me masturbating. How freaking embarrassing is that, masturbating over the imagined naked image of Gwen, when she's standing right here naked?

I rushed out of bed. There was no time to grab anything to cover my nakedness and, really, I didn't care. Besides, she already saw me stroking my cock and just in the way that it happened when I exposed myself to Jamie. It felt exhilarating to walk down the hall beside her naked with my cock bouncing up and down and side to side. I escorted her to the bathroom and held her hair, while she puked up my fine, French white wine and tuna steak dinner.

As I leaned down closer to comfort her, while holding back her hair, my erect cock was perched so close to her mouth that I couldn't help but envision her blowing me. At that point, with her naked and on her knees in front of the toilet, I would've done anything for her to suck my cock. For someone who was going to be sick, she didn't look sick. We stayed like that poised by the toilet with her on her knees and me leaning over her holding her blonde hair out of the way. Only, she didn't puke.

"Do you feel better?" 

I saw her looking up and over at my exposed cock and just as the feeling that I received when Jamie first saw me naked, I truly enjoyed Gwen seeing me naked. It aroused me to have her see my cock. Already, I had quite the erection going. She ignored my question to ask her own.

"How did I get naked?" She looked down at herself and covered her breasts with her forearm. I don't remember undressing," she said looking up at me. "Did you undress me?" When I didn't answer her right away, she asked another question. "Did we have sex?"

"No, we didn't have sex, Gwen. I just thought...I'm sorry...it was just that..."

She got a stern look on her face and I figured she was mad. Obviously, she was correct when she said that she could've been a nudist because. when she stood, she made no attempt to cover her nakedness, even though there was a towel right there and she didn't appear embarrassed. Then she walked to the bathroom sink and she stood in front of the mirror, while looking at me in the mirror, before splashing some cold water on her face. After she dried her face with a towel, she turned to me. "Take me to bed, please," she said brushing her hand by my still erect cock to take me by the hand.

Shit! She's pissed at me. I helped her up and walked her to her room.

"No," she said looking up at me, "your bedroom." She looked down at my cock and then made eye contact with me. "I want to sleep with you." She took my cock in her hand and held it for a few seconds before allowing it to bounce away. "I want to experience what my sister experienced."

I looked at her not believing my ears. 

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," she said looking down at my cock, again, this time staring at it. "I want to see how big that thing really gets."

"Do you understand that if I take you to bed that I will—"

"I'm not a virgin, Freddie. I need to feel sexual comfort just as much as you do," she said playing with the head of my cock with her fingertips. "Right now, I could use a good, hard fuck and who better than the man who loved my dead sister to fuck me."

"Actually, now that you put it that way, Gwen, I think, I could use a little sexual comfort too."

She had a way of saying things that aroused the animal in me and turned me off at the same time. I wish she hadn't used the words, "dead sister", it disturbed my senses in so many ways and, with her standing there naked, excited them too. 

The walk to my bed felt longer than I remembered. The thought of her sharing my bed naked just as did her sister was exciting beyond words.

"Wait," she said. "I think that I had better brush my teeth...and pee."

"Okay, I'll be in my bedroom."

I returned to my bedroom giving her some privacy in the bathroom. Quickly, I took a Viagra. I figured that I'd need one with a 23-year-old woman. I was glad that I had recently filled a prescription for testosterone supplements, Andro-Gel. Between that and the Viagra, my erection was more than good to go. Only, after remembering the outrageous and raucous sex that I had with Jamie, I hoped that having sex with Gwen didn't kill me. She appeared to be in really good shape. She had the body of a professional tennis player, or an Olympic swimmer, or a gymnast. She had muscles.

She appeared at my door just as Lynn had done that first time and so many times after looking hot and desirable. The look of her young, naked body took my breath away and made my cock spring to action. Bring it Baby! Show me what you got! I'm ready for you, I wanted to say but didn't.

My expression and erection did all the talking for me. She crawled in bed beside me and the feel of her firm, warm, young body next to mine was like no feeling that I've ever experienced. I hated to admit it, but she had a better body than did Lynn. She was firmer in places where Lynn was womanly soft. She was more athletic and her tits were bigger and her ass rounder both combining to make her waistline Dolly Parton tiny. Younger, stronger, and firmer, she was a bionic Lynn.

She fit so neatly at my side. The sensation of feeling all of her against my body was overwhelmingly exciting to my senses and even though I wanted to kiss her, even though she gave me that go ahead and kiss me look, I delayed my kiss.

"What's wrong."

"There's nothing wrong," I said looking at her, all of her. "The first time I kissed Lynn, actually, she kissed me, she caught me by surprise. I have a funny feeling that I want to remember our first kiss. Being the romantic that I am, I want this kiss to be a special memory that I'll remember--"

"Whatever," she said wrapping her arm around my neck, pulling me to her, and kissing me.

We kissed and kissed again. The feeling of her lips against mine, her tongue against mine, and my arms holding her body against mine with my hand slipping down to cup her firm, young ass was so eerily familiar yet so uniquely different. Already so sexually aroused, I couldn't stop kissing her. She made my cock the hardest it's ever been. She returned my kisses in kind totally blanking my mind with her passion. When I was lost within Gwen's kisses, anyone could have entered my home and murdered me and I never would have known. Moreover, I would have died a happy man knowing that a 23-year-old beautiful and shapely woman was willing to have sex with me, a 50-year-old man. It was pure pleasure to kiss her, while touching and feeling her hot body and even better when she kissed me back with attitude.

Maybe because it had been a few months since I had gotten laid. Jamie was the last action that I had, before she left. I realized that I was terribly horny, but perhaps I was feeling that this may be the last time that something like this will happen to me, that is, having sex with not only a woman so beautiful and curvaceous but a woman so young and innocent. It was as if God had sent me an Angel.

Innocent? There I go again putting another woman on another pedestal. Gwen wasn't innocent. She had been around. At least, at the time, I thought she was an Angel but, based solely on her sexual peccadilloes, as it turned out, she was more like the devil in disguise. 

Except for her dyed blonde hair, she looked so much like Lynn, but Gwen was her own person. She kissed more lustfully than did Lynn. When I kissed Lynn there was a relaxing erotica in her kisses whereas with Gwen, it was a rushed purpose, the purpose being to get her to a place, a place of heightened arousal, where I could fuck her and make her cum. I could tell by the first kiss that Gwen was a sexual animal, a literal fucking machine. If I feared anything, I feared not pleasing her.

Whereas Lynn kissed me with love; Gwen kissed me with unbridled passion. As Lynn was an active participant in love, Gwen was an active participant in sex. This sudden and surprise union was not about love. It was about copulation. Never had I been with a woman, even Jamie, who enjoyed sex as much.

In the way that Gwen went about sex, she left love out of the equation. There was no room for love with Gwen. It was animal fucking. Truly, I felt as if I was fucking a wild beast. To her it was a surgical operation and carnal knowledge at its clinical definition; it was unadulterated fornication. There was no pretense of romance with Gwen. Whereas, I wanted to make slow, sweet love to her and to her curvaceous body, as I had done so many times with her sister, she just wanted to get fucked, fucked now, and fucked hard. 

It did not take her long to find my cock. Her hand immediately engulfed it. And in the way that she grabbed on to it, I could tell that this was not the first cock that she ever had in her hot, little hand. She had a firmer grip around it than Lynn ever did and I liked that, at first. She gripped it as she would a tennis racket, one that gave her a wicked backhand. In the way that she jerked, moved, and stroked my cock she grabbed my prick, as if it was a stick shift in a muscle car, one that had a stiff clutch.

Where Lynn was very gentle, Gwen was rough. In the beginning, a woman who knows what she wants, was a turn on in the beginning because she knew just how to stroke it to give me maximum pleasure. Where Lynn was sensual, Gwen was sexual. Just by her obvious enthusiasm for my cock, she made me hot. She went at my cock as if it was her personal dildo. If I had a seatbelt attached to my bed, I would have buckled myself in because with Gwen I was in for one Hell of a wild ride.

As I was to discover, the two siblings were nothing alike in bed and the comparatively innocent man that I was, when compared to the sexually experienced Gwen, I couldn't wait to explore more of her to compare the differences of the two sisters. I couldn't wait to know what it felt like to be inside her. I couldn't wait for her to suck my cock. If nothing else, I know that I was in for a memorable sexual experience reminiscent of how Jamie was when fucking me because Gwen was a fuck machine on steroids. She was a girl who can't get enough of a good thing and one who returns for seconds and thirds.

There was nothing shy and demur about Gwen. She knew what she wanted. She knew how to get it. She knew she was going to get it.

In the beginning, when I was standing there naked holding her hair as she vomited in the toilet with my cock so very close to her mouth, I suddenly felt so much like the spider luring another victim, this time an even younger victim, to its web. I felt guilty, after having stripped her naked. I felt perverse standing there naked in her moment of weakness, when she was about to wrench up her guts in the toilet bowl, but didn't. While thinking about her sucking me off and thinking about cumming in her mouth, I felt like the dirty old man that I am.

I thought about what her father would say and how he would perceive me, as I would have thought about a man my age assaulting my daughter the way that I had assaulted Gwen by stripping her naked when she was passed out on my guestroom bed. Now, not only had I had sex with one of his daughters but also I was about to have sex with the other one of his daughters, too. Reflecting back to when she was on her knees waiting to puke in the toilet, when she looked up and over at my semi-erect naked penis, of course, I could not help but think about her sucking my cock. Only, as I'd discover later, she was the spider and I was her victim. Female spiders always eat their male lovers after copulation. God help me.

Had I known then what I know now, I would have grabbed her by her hair and forced her to suck my cock and she would have not only been happy that I made such an aggressive move but she would have loved it. Maybe after that, after forcing her to suck my cock, with me having the upper hand and with me being the one in control, this wild affair would have been over then. Unfortunately, once I invited her into my bed, I was hers for the taking. 

Here I am treating her like she is someone worthy to stand atop a pedestal and she'd rather be on her knees sucking my cock, as I slapped her around. In actuality, I was the innocent one. I was the one who she could have put high up on the pedestal. Instead, I was just another notch on her pink belt. Suddenly, being just another sexual victim of Gwen's, I felt so used and abused. I felt like a piece of beefcake meat, but in a perverse sort of way I liked the feeling.

She was so similar to her sister in appearance, that it was easy to draw the parallel conclusions that they would be similar in bed. Boy, as it turned out, that was so completely opposite to think that they were anything alike. She was so different in bed. Where Lynn was the generous lover, soft, and gentle, Gwen was the sexy vixen, tough and rough. Foxy sly in her way to get what she wanted and what she needed, she was a very dangerous woman. Boy, if ever she was in the corporate world, she'd have a rocket ship ride up the ladder of success by sleeping her way to the top.

I attributed much of the difference in making love with Lynn than just having sex with her was because we were lovers and in love. Whereas, not feeling the same way about Gwen that I did for Lynn, it was strictly sex with Gwen. As if we were competing in a contest, one that I'd never win, we were sexual combatants intent on getting the prize, the ultimate orgasm. It was obvious that she had more of a lustful appetite for sex than did her sister and me, for that matter. Unlike her sister who enjoyed pushing my sexual buttons with dirty talk, Gwen was quiet, business like in her quest to sexually satisfy herself. 

She did all of talking with her body and through her sexual actions. There was no wasted energy with her. If she was going to sweat anything, she was going to sweat while fucking. She didn't talk much during sex, didn't talk dirty, and there was no pillow talk. There was just plain and simple raw fucking. She wanted to be fucked and hard. She expected to be fucked and I had better not disappoint her or I'd be fucked and she'd fuck me up. In the realm of be careful what you wish for, I was lusting over the woman of the dark, sexual places. Be afraid, be so very afraid and I was. I was afraid of Gwen.

"I like it rough," she said. "The rougher the better."

Those four little words hit me like a bucket of cold water when abruptly awakened while comfortably snoozing in a hammock. Here I was thinking that I was the one taking advantage of her, when she was the one taking advantage of me. She likes it rough. What exactly does she mean by that? Explain rough. Is she expecting me to fill a burlap bag with soda cans and beat her body, or does she want me to push her down a flight of stairs, before mounting her. Maybe I should drag her behind my car, before taking her from behind. Oh, oh, I'm in serious trouble here.

Wouldn't you just prefer a nice back massage to get you in the mood? Maybe, I could rub your feet before we make love, I thought and without verbalizing my thoughts to her. How about a little conversation? Only, Gwen wanted none of that. Now that I opened Pandora's box by unleashing my snake, when walking around in front of her naked, I unleashed her beast, when she told me that she likes it rough.

It would have been enough for me that she wanted to have sex with me, but now that she told me that she wants rough sex, I was at a loss what to do. I've always been a kind, gentle, and grateful man, especially when in bed naked with a naked woman who's more than half my age. The fact that she wanted sex, rough sex, and sex the rougher the better made me realize that I was out of her league. It was then that I wished I had the official rule book for having rough sex.

"I enjoy feeling frightened and being forced," she said with a soft smile.

Oh, shit. This woman is into some seriously heavy sex. Scottie beam me up, now! I have a feeling that she'd prefer a couple of convicts, who've been serving hard time and just broke out of prison to ravish her. Suddenly, I had an image of her being gang banged by a bunch of Hells Angels and being pissed off because they didn't have any more to give her, after she wore them out.

"And it is okay if you want to slap my ass, hard, really hard, the harder the better."

Slap her ass? What made her tell me that? Do I look like an ass slapper? I'd never slap Lynn's beautiful ass and Gwen's ass is, believe it or not, even better. Slapping her beautiful ass hard, really hard, is akin to throwing red paint on the Mona Lisa. Now, why would I slap her ass? I'd much rather feel her ass, squeeze her ass, and lick her ass. I'm sorry, Honey, I wanted to say, but slapping your ass does nothing for me.

"I like it when you, as the strong he-man, take control of me, the weak woman."

I have a feeling this broad could bench press more than me. There's nothing weak about this woman. Suddenly, this strong he-man is getting a bit weak in the knees at the thoughts of trying to satisfy her sexually by giving her rough sex, forcing myself on her, and slapping her ass really hard. Gee, Honey, wouldn't you prefer a little sweet talk mixed in with some dirty talk?

"I like it when you force me to do dirty and nasty things to your body," she said with a determined look in her eyes that scared the shit out of me.

Dirty and nasty things? What dirty nasty things? The only dirty, nasty thing that I could imagine was when Jamie tossed my salad, licked my ass, but that felt good, really good. Suddenly, I felt as if I was in an XXX movie and I was the dumb pizza man showing up at the porn star's house.

I've never been with a woman who preferred rough sex to gentle sex, so this was a new road for me to explore and a road that I willingly took to have sex with someone as young, beautiful, and voluptuous, as was Gwen. Only, I've never been with a woman who has had such an established sexual agenda with a list of preferences and admittedly all of that was a bit intimidating. Suddenly, I wished that I had headgear, elbow and knee pads, and a chest protector. I felt much like a rookie wrestler about to enter the squared circle with a professional mauler. I felt as if I was standing in the Roman Coliseum entered in a competition, a game, where only one survived and everyone was betting against me.

"Gwen...Gwen...Gwen," I could hear the crowd chanting, as I stood in the coliseum quaking, while waiting for Gwen to make her entrance naked and standing upon her white chariot powered by her black horse, named Devil. Swiftly, she enters the coliseum whipping her horse to make it run faster in the way that she was about to whip me to hump her harder.

At first I thought it funny that she wanted me to slap her ass, so I complied by lightly slapping her firm, round cheeks. No problem. I can do this. Here you go, Honey. Consider your ass sufficiently slapped. Isn't this fun? Surely, I didn't want to turn her off by slapping her ass too hard and by hurting her beautiful bottom. Actually, I'd have preferred to take a little nibble out of firm, round ass. Besides she had such a wonderful ass that I just wanted to feel, caress, and massage her, firm, round cheeks before...huh?

"Harder," was all that she replied.

Again, I slapped her round, firm ass a little harder than before as I humped her burying my cock deeper inside of her.

"Harder," she said again.

Harder? What the fuck? Is she kidding me? Is she serious? How hard is too hard? She made me wish that I was wearing a belt with a big western type buckle so that I could beat her with it. Is that hard enough for you, sister? Wait let me stand up so that I can take a running jump swing at your sweet ass.




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 13



I slapped her ass again and again harder each time. I slapped her ass as hard as I could. I slapped her so hard that my hand hurt. Only, it was soon obvious to me that I couldn't hit her hard enough to please her. The harder that I hit her shapely ass, the harder she wanted me to hit her, and the more proactive she was with her sexuality. My slaps were turning her on and making her a sexual animal. Only, I was afraid of what I was unleashing.

If she was this turned on and proactive sexually now, what would she be like when she was aroused. My slaps were unleashing the beast in her. I imagined Gwen picking me up and throwing me against the wall, before she fucked me senseless while I was upside down. Suddenly, I thought of the Hulk, the green monster mass of muscle and I was afraid of Gwen the sexy siren. Then, I thought of the movie with Uma Thurman, My Super Ex-Girlfriend. Help me dear God.

Run for your life! Save yourself! Gwen is sexually aroused! It's every man for himself. No man is safe, when Gwen is sexually excited. If only she knew what I was thinking.

I knew then that, no matter what I did, I was not the man for her. I'm too old and too gentle to satisfy her. Yes, alas, I wasn't man enough for her. She needed a Hun, Attila the Hun, or a red bearded Viking intent on rape and debauchery, or a pirate who had been away at sea too long. She needed someone like Wilt the Stilt Chamberlain, the fornicator of 20,000 women or Gene Simmons of Kiss the sexual manipulator of countless backstage encounters.

Unfortunately, I was no Marquis de Sade or Don Juan, I was a mere mortal and Gwen needed the Devil himself. Only, Satan could satisfy the likes of her. Yes, that's right, she needed Jack Nicholson. I could see Jack now with Gwen bent over his knee, as he wailed the Hell out of her firm, round ass, while making it red, raw.

"How's that feel?" I imagined the Devil asking Gwen.

"Harder," I imagined her replying.

I knew, no matter what I did, I couldn't sexually satisfy her. She needed a 6'5" professional athlete with a cock equaled to his ego to sexually satisfy her. Whereas, I was a lover looking for love, she was an animal looking for sex. She would have preferred someone coming up behind her, lifting up her skirt, tearing down her panties, and bending her over a chair. Then, if she protested at being fucked up the ass, a few slaps would not only make her stop resisting but also would light her fire to high flame.

"Pull my hair," she said.

"Pull your hair? But it looks so nice. Why muss it up?"

Now, this is going too far. What if I just gave you a noogie, I wanted to ask her, but didn't.

"Make me blow you."

"Don't want to blow me? Listen, you don't have to blow me, if you don't want to suck my cock."

"I like being forced," she said. "Make me blow you."

Make you blow me? I can't do that? That's too much like rape, I thought to myself wondering what in the Hell she would ask me to do to her next. 

"Force me to get down on my knees and suck your cock."

"Okay," I said gently pushing down on her shoulder.

This is bizarre. Never have I been with a woman who wanted me to force her to do sexual things to me. Okay, there was that time with my female cousin down my cellar but that was a long time ago and before they had the sex registry. Let's forget that I even mentioned that.

"Slap me across my face."

"Slap you across your face? I can't do that. I can't hit a woman. I'd much rather kiss your face than slap it."

"I get off when I feel that I am forced to do something and the nastier the better."

"You do? Why? Wouldn't you rather if I just went down on you and licked and fingered your pussy?"

Instead of turning me on, she was turning me off.

She slid her body up to me, reached out her tongue, and licked the entire side of my face like a lioness would before eating you. Oh, yuck. Why the Hell did she do that? That's gross. This is too much. Now, the entire side of my face is wet. Fuck.

"If you force me to," she said whispering in my ear. "I'll lick your ass, stick my tongue up your asshole, and make you cum with my finger."

"Gees, Gwen, does your mother know you talk like that?" Nonetheless, at least we were talking. "Actually, if you toss my salad, I'll do anything that you want."

I'll beat you upside your head with a hammer, if you ask me to, so long as you stick your long, sweet tongue up my ass, I wanted to say, but didn't. Only, make sure that you brush your teeth and, especially your tongue, before kissing me, again.

"Take me," she whispered while licking the inside of my ear.

Take you? Take you where? I'd rather just stay here with you and have sex with you, if you don't mind.

"Fuck me in the ass," she said.

Fuck you in the ass? Listen here, sister, I don't fuck anybody up the ass. Sorry, Honey. I'm many things but I am not an anal type of guy. Suddenly, slapping her harder on the ass was becoming more appealing. 

Her voice sent shivers down my spine. She made me wish I was 25 years younger. She made me wish my cock was harder, longer, and thicker. She made me see my demise.

"But look, he's still smiling. He looks so happy. ...and what was the cause of death?" asked the police Lieutenant of the Coroner.

"Well," said the Coroner looking at Gwen all bloodied, bruised, battered, and beaten, "apparently, after he beat the snot out of her, she fucked him to death."

"Wow! Get her telephone number because when I'm ready to die, that's who I'm going to call and that's how I want to die." The Lieutenant looked over at Gwen again, "She is gorgeous. I'd love to beat the piss out of her, too, before she fucks me to death."

Suddenly, I remembered Jamie tossing my salad in the shower the time that the three of us, me her, and Lynn had sex in the master bedroom shower. The feeling of Jamie's tongue licking my ass and asshole and her finger fucking me while I buried my cock deep inside Lynn felt like nothing that I have ever experienced. With motivation renewed, I grabbed some of her hair in my hand and pulled it.

"Harder," she said.

Oh, geez, you're going to be sorry when you're older and suddenly have a bald spot. I pulled her hair harder forcing her head down on my cock.

"Suck it, Bitch. Suck my cock. Blow me," I said in my best Hell's Angels biker voice. I half-heartedly slapped her face. I couldn't hit a woman and I had trouble keeping a straight face and not laughing. Certainly, by not slapping her face as hard as I slapped her ass, I was ruining the moment for her.

Then, she told me, not asked me, to squeeze her tits and pull and twist her nipples. I was waiting for her to pull out a whip. I half expected her to pull handcuffs from out of her ass and cuff me to the bed. What is next with this woman? And where did she learn all of these things at such a young age. Definitely, she's spending way too much time reading porn stories and watching porn videos.

I've never been with a woman who wanted her tits squeezed and her nipples pulled and twisted. Is this a normal thing to do with the younger generation? I mean, maybe, they wouldn't be into squeezing tits so much if they were ever to have a mammogram. To me, it was a little weird to squeeze tits, although I did apply for a job as a mammogram technician, once, and they turned me down for obvious reasons.

To me, it was weird to do anything but worship tits and nipples and, definitely, not abuse them. I wanted to suck her tits, caress her tits, and fondle her tits, and not squeeze her tits, pull her tits, and twist her tits. Her request deflated my sexual sensitivity, as if she had taken her fingernails and scratched them down a blackboard or worse, kicked me in the balls and ruptured me. The last thing that I wanted to do was squeeze her tits and pull and twist her nipples but I complied with her wishes. If that is what it takes to light her fire, then who am I to question her sexual peccadilloes. I wanted to get her off and I did my best to do that.

"Harder," she said when I squeezed her tits. 

Harder? Again, I squeezed her tits as I fucked her pussy.

"Harder," she said again.

"Harder? I can't squeeze them any harder, Gwen. I have a bit of Arthritis in my hands."

Between slapping her ass and squeezing her tits, my hands hurt like Hell. I looked at my hands and they were already swollen.

It appears that, just as I could not slap her ass hard enough to please her, I was unable to squeeze her tits hard enough to please her. She made me want to run down the cellar stairs and get the vise. I envisioned myself turning the handle on the vise while asking her, "How's that, are your flat as a pancake tits squeezed hard enough for you now?"

"Harder," I imagined her replying. 

What the fuck? Harder? I can't squeeze them any harder. What if you lay out in the driveway topless and I drive over your tits with my car?

Damn, this was not what I had envisioned when she told me to take her to bed. I envisioned making sweet, gentle, albeit passionate love to her. Only, she wasn't into that. Sweet and gentle was oxymoronic when it came to having sex with Gwen. Gwen knew what she wanted and she wanted it rough and wild. With someone as beautiful as was she, who'd have thought that she was a sexual animal?

I envisioned a romantic liaison. I envisioned falling in love with her. I envisioned her being sweet, sweeter than her sister, perhaps, because she was younger. I envisioned her being innocent. I envisioned her telling me to be gentle with her because this was her first time.

Certainly and unfortunately, this rough sex is not any kind of sex that aroused me. I come from a generation where we had to beg for a blowjob and were lucky if we received a hand job, and that was from the woman we ended up marrying. Gwen was resistant to everything that worked with Lynn. I felt that I was at a loss with Gwen.

I didn't know how to treat her. I didn't know how to arouse her and make her cum. She made me feel inadequate. She made me feel that she wouldn't be sexually satisfied unless I treated her like a whore. Treating my beloved Lynn's sister like she was a whore was so against how I felt about women. I'm a lover of women not an abuser of women. 

Every time I tried talking dirty to her, she rebuffed my sexual verbiage. She didn't want to hear me talking dirty to her. She didn't want to hear my voice. She didn't want to talk. She wanted action and not words. She just wanted to fuck.

"Shut up and fuck me," she said slapping my ass harder than I slapped her ass.

Geez, that fucking hurt, I wanted to say, but didn't. What the Hell is wrong with you?

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 14



Chapter 14

Taking back control from Gwen by giving he what she wants

After a while, she made me feel that I was not a guy made to feel lucky to fuck her but a guy that just had a job to do. Suddenly feeling used and abused by her, powerless in her control, I had better fuck her hard and fuck her good. Only, too tired to take the lead, she wore me out and, now I just wanted to quit and go to sleep. I was done. I was finished. I was just so tired.

"Hey, old man!" She shook me awake. "What are you doing, old man, sleeping on me? Wake up, old man, wake up." 

Normally, if it was a young guy calling me an old man, as was the case with Lynn's old boyfriend, John, he'd be drinking through a straw in a hospital room. Yet, Gwen was a young woman and a beautiful woman at that. Instead of hurting my ego by poking fun at my age, she sexually emasculated me. It was obvious to me that I couldn't slap her ass painfully enough or fuck her hard enough to please her.

With me still sleeping, she lifted my head up by my hair and slapped me hard across the face. Maybe, she was into this sadomasochism shit, but I surely wasn't. If she slapped me across the face again, she was about to find out how really hard I can slap her. Whereas, I wanted to make love, she wanted me to beat her, and if I wasn't going to beat her, then she was going to try and beat me. At that point tired of playing her games of pain and torture, I was ready to go out to the car and get the tire iron from out of my trunk and take it to her head a couple of times. 

"How's that, Gwen? Is that hard enough for you?" I imagined myself saying, as I bounced my tire iron off her head.

"Harder," I imagined her saying with me running out of my house naked and screaming mad with her running behind me. "Where are you going old man? You can't run away. Get back here and beat the piss out of me before fucking me to death."

I grabbed her wrist when she reached back ready to slap me again and pinned her arms back on the bed. I kissed her hard and then bit her nipple even harder, afraid that I might bite it off. Instead of screaming out in pain, she loved it. Suddenly, as if I gave her a shot of adrenaline, she came alive. I thought about rolling her over and sticking my cock up her ass. She'd probably love that too, so long as I didn't lubricate her first. Yet, I'm not the anal type of guy. I prefer facing my women when I'm having sex with them. I mean no offense to those who love anal sex, but anal sex is just not for me.

I struggled with the thoughts of slapping someone who looked so beautiful. The way she looked made me want to kiss her not slap her. Where did this desire to be so physically brutalized and so roughly manhandled come from? Then, I remembered Lynn's boyfriend slapping her across the face. Now, I wondered what kind of upbringing these girls had. Maybe their father abused them. I suddenly visualized their father forcing them to shower naked in front of him, while he slapped their ass with a paddle.

After I bit her nipple, she was so aroused that she started blowing me again, when all that I wanted to do was sleep. Dear God, save me from Gwen. The last straw was when she was applying too much teeth to my cock. Maybe, some guys are into pain but, not my kind of sexual aphrodisiac, penis pain does nothing for me but hurt. I've not felt pain like that since Mary Elizabeth gave me a terrible blowjob on prom night, while wearing her braces.

"Hey, geez, easy with the teeth. That hurts, Gwen."

"Sorry," she said looking at me kind of funny, as if I was the weird one and she was the normal one. "All my other boyfriends like having their penis bitten."

Really? All of your other boyfriends? Just how many other penises have you bitten? And who are all your other boyfriends? Wolverines? Beavers? Rats? I wanted to say all of these thoughts, but I didn't dare. She was still a guest in my house, albeit a sexual guest. Besides, I didn't want to come off as a whiner, a crybaby, and as a man who couldn't take as much pain as she could give and obviously take. I didn't want to appear the wimpy guy that I apparently am and that she thinks I am, compared to Iron Miss Maiden Gwen.

Notwithstanding all the pain and suffering of having sex with Gwen, aside from the brutal beating, the eventual sex with her was more than pleasurable. Never would I have imagined in a million years that I'd be fucking Lynn's 23-year-old baby sister. Never would I have imagined in a million years that a 23-year-old would be so hot to fuck this 50-year-old body. Never would I have imagined in a million years that Lynn's sister was so fucked up and I was so out of touch by what the younger generation sexually wanted and what I was no longer able to give. Now a big hit in the retirement home, being that I was still able to drive at night, I couldn't wait to find my place on the porch in a rocking chair, while whistling at the woman my age with their tits hanging down to their waist and their stockings and panties bunched down around their ankles.

What the Hell! I decided that I'd play her game of sexual sadomachism and painful torture to see how far I could go. Being that she was here in my bed naked, willing and able, I was curious to see what happens, when I sternly complied with her every sexual desire and depraved whim.

'Wham!'

She jumped. She flinched. I got to her. I slapped her ass as hard as I could, so hard that I saw her wince in pain. Before she could react, before she could reach around behind her and rub her ass, or slap me, before she could stop me and tell me that slap was too hard and that slap was enough, I slapped her again and again and again.

'Wham! Wham! Wham!'

Nearly breaking my heart to do it, as if smashing a priceless vase against the wall, I slapped her perfectly round, fruit like firm, and exquisite pink ass again and again. After a half dozen hard slaps with my meaty palm, my hand hurt and her beautiful, white ass flaming, welted, red raw, I looked in her eyes to read her reaction.

The insane look on her face told me everything that I needed to know. Instead of crying in pain, instead of trying to hurt me back for hurting her, inflamed with passion, she was on sexual fire. She grabbed me around the neck and kissed me like she never me before. Never have I been kissed by anyone, including Lynn, with such lustful desire. Help me dear God. Save me from Gwen because I just turned on the sexual beast in her. Look out, run for you lives. The sexual monster is loose. I just aroused the sleeping sexual animal in her.

She grabbed my cock as she would a hammer and shoved it up her pussy, as if I was fitting a plumbing pipe in a hole that had a tight fit. There was nothing gentle about her inserting my cock up inside of her. She rammed it up there. Such a dirty girl, she was so sexually aggressive.

As soon as her lips locked onto mine and her tongue twirled around my tongue, already having learned from the last sexual experience with her, I squeezed her big tits as if I was juicing oranges. Tears came to her eyes and I felt her inhale with the pain. Thinking that I had won and she was finally submitting to my will and to the strong grip of my hands, I felt her withdraw and then return with more passion than before. Instead of her rejecting my rough assault to her body, she not only embraced my physical passion, she wanted more.

"Fuck me, Freddie," she said in a deep voice that made me wonder if there wasn't someone else in the room, a demon or the Devil himself. Expecting her head to spin around, while she vomited green, she continued her sexual verbal assault. "Fuck me, Freddie. Fuck me, hard. Slam that big, hard cock deep in my warm, wet pussy."

Ah, there it is. Pillow talk. As if I was Popeye and dirty, pillow talk was my can of spinach, that was all the dirty talk that I needed to slam my big, cock deep inside her pussy. Now eager to please her beaver and really pound her mound, no longer a wussy, I was really fucking her pussy. Over and over again, slamming her clam, my Viagra drugged cock parted her pussy lips and drove itself deeper and deeper inside of her. Finally, I was happy to seal this sexual deal.

For someone so sexually experienced, she was still so tight. I had her moaning and wiggling her proud ass within a few minutes. Then, she started returning my humps and really started humping me. If there was a Gold medal in the Olympics for humping, Gwen would win it. I could hear them playing her song from Transylvania, Romania, while she stood on the podium with her gold humping medal around her neck and humping the judges.

She humped me hard, very hard, but I humped her back even harder, even bouncing the top of her head off the headboard of the bed. I humped her so hard that I was afraid I was going to break a bone or crack open her skull or definitely, at the least, break my bed. The harder that I humped her, the harder that she humped me back and the tighter was her grip around my back with her legs. She rode me bareback like a bucking bronco. She dug her fingernails so deep in my back that I could feel myself bleed.

Finally, after a two hour long, first time sexual marathon with Gwen that made me get up, pee like a racehorse, put my head between my legs and take some deep breaths, check my pulse and blood pressure, and drink a quart of water, once it ended, we slept like people who had been up for 72 hours, while walking through the hot desert in search of water. Water...water...water. Finally, after finding an oasis and filling our bellies with water, we collapsed from exhaustion. 

I remember the old days, when I could make love for four or five hours and cum three and four times in a sexual session. I remember the old days, when getting laid by women, such as, Lynn, Jamie, and Gwen were just figments of my fertile imagination, while jerking off alone in my room to an old issue of Playboy magazine. I remember the old days, when I was more prepared physically to endure such a sexual marathon, as I just did, without having any adverse effects and without having to have the help of Viagra and the testosterone supplement, Andro-Gel.

Now, for me, at my age, (cough, wheeze, hack), feeling as if my heart is about to explode, two hours and cumming once, maybe twice, are all that I can endure. After that, I start getting cramps in my legs, spasms in my back, and get nauseous and headachy. Suddenly, needing to buy a rocking chair, I yearned for the days when I can relax with a rousing game of Shuffleboard or Bridge, while making small talk filled with innuendoes aimed at someone's sexy but elderly wife.

Actually, now that I'm older, I'm embarrassed to admit it, maybe my sexual life, as I once knew it, is over. After two hours of hard humping and forceful fucking, I begin to get bored and my mind wanders, while thinking of other things, politics, gas prices, and baseball. Yes, there, I wrote it. Bored with sex with a woman more than half my age, I'm chagrinned to write that I'm not the pervert that I used to be and still think I am. Egad, I'm a normal, aging baby boomer who believes his age is the same as his level of maturity, which stopped when I started drinking huge amounts of alcohol in my twenties. After two hours of having hot sex with a woman who is too perfect to imagine she's real, unbelievably and admittedly, I get tired, I get sleepy, and I get bored. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Suddenly, I yearn for dialogue, conversation, and a few belly laughs with a woman who's my age. I wished the woman lying next to me was one who still dreams of Elvis, remembers the Beatle invasion, knows the sound of a Chevy 427, recalls the time when I could run to the corner store and buy a quart of milk, a loaf of bread, a pack of cigarettes, the newspaper, and get back eleven cents change from a dollar and use that to buy two candy bars, a snickers and M&M's or a soda and a bag of chips. Suddenly, I wanted a woman who likes me for who I am, and who's a widow or has an ex-husband and grown children, and (gasp) sagging tits, and stretch marks.

After two hours of sexual intercourse, I just wanted it to end and I wanted her to go away, so that I can sleep. After having two hours of wild sex with Gwen, I'm thinking about going over to the other side, turning gay, and marching in the gay parade. After two hours of sex, I wished there was another guy in the room who could take over where I left off. 

"Okay, Jesse, it's your turn. Get in there and good luck to you. And remember, slap her high, slap her low, and slap her hard."

After two hours of fucking, feeling, pinching, pulling, touching, hitting, licking, and sucking, I start wondering about other things. Gee, the Red Sox are playing tonight. I wonder how they're doing.

"Hey, Honey, would you mind if I put the game on low, while you blow me and I beat the shit out of your ass?"

"Buchholz has a no hitter going into the ninth inning. He just needs to get out three more Baltimore Orioles batters to make baseball history, as the first Red Sox rookie to ever throw a no hitter."

Oh, yeah, that would go over real big, if I verbalized my need to watch a Red Sox baseball game during sex. I can see her blowing me now, sucking my cock with all the skill and determination that she can muster to get me off, so that she can put me to sleep. Instead of having sex with my decrepit body, I can see her content to do other things that she really wants to do, such as read a hot romance novel or calling in four or five sailors to have a gangbang, instead of having tepid sex with me.

"Honey, bob your head the other way and more to the side, instead of bobbing your head up and down, you're blocking my view of the baseball game."

"With two outs in the ninth inning and two strikes on the batter, Buchholz just needs one more strike. Can he do it? Will he make baseball history?"

Normally an early riser awakening at 5am each morning, it was 9am when I finally opened my eyes. I looked over at Gwen and she was dead to the world. I ogled her naked body for a few minutes before getting up to pee again. I never peed as long and as much, since I turned fifty.

Damn I'm one lucky son-of-a-bitch to have someone like her sleeping naked in my bed next to me. I was still in disbelief that I had just fucked Lynn's 23-year-old, baby sister. Damn, even with her lying on her stomach with her head buried in the pillow, she's so shapely. Damn, she is outrageously hot. Damn, she is gorgeous, I thought as she turned over to lie on her side. Damn, I'm tired. Damn, I'm old. Damn, I'm sore. I'm just glad she's only staying for the weekend. I can't even imagine week of Gwen, never mind a lifetime of her.

Imagine a Playboy Playmate, yeah, the one who wins the Playmate of the Year...only hotter and younger. That's Gwen. That's what Gwen looks like and here she is lying beside me...naked. Are you jealous? Well, you ought to be because this is a once in a lifetime sexual encounter that any man would give his right arm and leg to do her if he could. Only, I was done. I was exhausted. Out of my league, she wore me out.

Gwen is the type of woman that sexual dreams are made of and that erotic web sites are created over. Gwen is the super siren of every man's sexual fantasy and lustful desire. Gwen is the Jenna Jameson of the everyday man's average world. Think of the word sex and you'll think of the name, Gwen. They're synonymous. Any man would sell his soul to spend an evening with Gwen. Only, I no longer wanted her. I had enough of her. I was way too old for her. Where Lynn made me feel younger, Gwen made me feel older.

Notwithstanding how exhausted I felt now, the memory of this sexual union will last me the rest of my life. Years from now, when I'm alone and lonely and jerking off in the bathroom, the recalled vision of Gwen and her voluptuous, young, flawless body will fill my mind with her firm round ass, full shapely tits, pink areolas with puffy nipples, and shaved juicy pussy. Yep, I can see it all now, me in my late fifties having not had sex in a few years, except for that young, female hitchhiker that I picked up and who gave me a blowjob for a lift to the next city and who stole my wallet (that's another story for another time), remembering my weekend with Gwen will give me enormous pleasure.

Yet, here she is now naked and dead asleep beside me. I really need to make the most of this time with her. I really need to make this the most memorable memory ever, even though it already is. Enjoying the moment, I stared at her perfect, naked body, until I could no longer keep my eyes open. She was so very hot and so very young, but I was so very sated and so very tired. She did me in with that non-stop fucking, kissing, and fucking.

I'm not the man that I used to be. It's apparent to me now that I'm way too old for her. She'd kill me but, oh boy, what a way to die. I threw my arm around her cupping her big tit in the palm of my hand and spooned her with my semi-erect penis growing soft and resting in the deep recess of her perfect ass, as I quickly fell back to sleep.

Abruptly, early that morning, too early to be awakened, after having a night as hot as I had, I was awakened by a car beeping its horn in my driveway. A last ditched effort to arouse us from our slumber, after we apparently didn't answer the telephone and/or the doorbell. At first, it sounded as if it was far off in the distance, gradually coming closer and closer, and gradually offending my ears and waking me up from my sound sleep. Then, with the dogs barking her arrival, the hectic, panicked sound of the car horn filled my brain with loud static in the way of an endless air raid siren warning me of impending danger and doom of bombs dropping down from the sky.

Feeling my age now, while wishing for a Ben-Gay massage with a beer chaser, I crawled out of bed all bent over and cramped. Still tired and annoyed that someone's car horn woke me up, I was so freaking grumpy and felt so freaking old. Geez, I thought, I need to have sex with women my own age because these Olympian athletes, first Lynn, and then Jamie, and now, Gwen are killing me. I'm just glad that Lynn only had the one sister. Gees, perish the thought, but imagine if Gwen had a identical twin named Gayle.

I need to face reality and admit that I can't run with the young bitches anymore. Too tired to roam too far from home, this big, old dog just wants to sleep. Now, who the Hell is that out there beeping their damn car horn? It sounds like it's in my driveway.

I peered out the window to look for the asshole leaning on his horn. The car was in my driveway. Holy shit! Recognizing the car, God answered my prayers because the cavalry is here. As if the Navy fleet was in, I couldn't be happier to welcome my unexpected, surprise visitor.

To be continued... 



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 15



Love So Young

Chapter 15

Jamie to the Rescue. Hopefully, she can help me tame Gwen.

I ran to the bathroom, took another piss, threw on a bathrobe, and ran downstairs to greet my unexpected houseguest. It had been several months since I saw her and since she moved from my house. I opened the front door and gave her a big bear hug.

"Jamie! I'm so glad to see you." I stepped back holding her at arm's length. She looked wonderful. She looked hot. "You look good," I said taking her all in with one lustful stare.

"Hi, Freddie," she said.

Ah, after being alone again without a woman in my life and now suddenly flush with two, gorgeous woman, Gwen and Jamie, the pervert in me has returned with the vision of sexy Jamie being stripped naked by Lynn the first time I met her.

Dressed in a very short, flared skirt that sways with the movement of the light breeze, she had a mostly unbuttoned blouse that showed her massive cleavage and peeks of her sexy yellow bra. I envisioned her driving through the toll booth on the Mass Pike and giving the toll taker a quick, hot flash of the tops of her full swollen silicon breasts and the full length of her shapely thighs. Seeing her again was like seeing her for the first time.

"How've you been?"

"I'm good, Freddie." She smiled, stepped forward, and gave me a kiss and a hug. Then, she patted my belly and stepped back. "You put on a couple pounds. How are you?"

"I'm ecstatic now that you're here," I said leaning forward to return her kiss and hug. "I missed you." Her lips were soft and full and her kiss electric.

She returned my kiss with another. At this rate trading kiss for kiss, we'd be making out soon. I could tell by her look that there was still some magic lingering there behind those big, brown eyes.

"I needed to leave this house and I hope you understood my leaving so abruptly." She looked up at me and her eyes filled up. I knew she was thinking about the passing of her best friend, Lynn. "I needed some time away."

"Yes, yes, of course. I understand completely but, why this sudden visit?" The last that I heard you were living with some guy, somewhere.

"Well, my some guy took off with some girl to somewhere else," she said with sadness. "Hey, no one likes to be cheated on and being rejected for another." Her smile turned from embarrassed to happy.

"Well, he's an idiot for cheating on someone like you," I said trying to cheer make her feel better.

"Actually, I was the one who cheated on him," she said with a laugh. She looked at Gwen's shiny red Bimmer parked in the driveway. "Then, a little bird," she said with a sexy smile, "Gwen's mom, told me that you have a houseguest for the weekend."

"Ah, yes, the psycho nymphomaniac is asleep in my bedroom as we speak. She's lying there completely naked and dead to the world," I said in a whisper. "Gwen is quite the little sexpot." As if locking away my cock from having any more for sex, I pulled my bathrobe tie tighter and let out a sigh. "She wore me out."

"Well, it's unfortunate that there was no one to warn you about her," she said laughing. "Don't fret, Freddie, I'm here to save you from her."

"Thank God for you, Jamie," I said laughing.

She stepped inside and put her overnight bag down, put both palms beneath her tits, and adjusted them in the movement of a female prison guard at a maximum security prison or a head nurse at a psych ward getting ready to do battle with an unruly inmate.

"I've had a bit of experience with her type of sexually insatiable appetite." she said with a knowing look and a laugh.

"Please come in my messy house," I said laughing and stepping aside to allow her entrance further inside. "Since you left, I haven't had a decent meal. It's all been takeout."

"I can see you're getting a bit of a potbelly from eating too many carbs," Jamie rubbed my stomach again with a chuckle and reached down and felt my cock.

"Matter of fact, I don't think I've properly vacuumed, since you left. The spiders have taken up permanent residence."

"I can see the cobwebs," she said looking up at the ceiling. Immediately, I had an erection. She kissed me again only this time fuller, longer, and deeper on the lips. "I missed you, Freddie."

"I missed you, too," I said grabbing a big handful of her breast.

"Later," she said letting go of my quickly growing cock and pushing my hand away from her tit. 

'Later', I thought. 'I'm not so sure about later. My penis is still so sore from Gwen's rough touch. Later may be a few days from now.'

"You know where everything is. I don't have to show you anything. Shall we have the same sleeping arrangements?" I said with a shit eating grin hoping that she would say yes.

"Yeah, sure," she said giving me a sexy look. "Why not?" She laughed. "You gave me the best fuck that I've had in a while."

Suddenly, I felt pressured again to perform. I wondered if I had enough Viagra to do Jamie and Gwen together in a threesome.

"Thank you, but you must give me time to recover from Gwen."

"We have time, Freddie," she said laughing. "Relax. Don't be so tense to perform as if you're a 25-year-old."

What she said removed the pressure from me and made me feel better. I loved her laugh. It was a full laugh, a musical laugh, and a laugh that made me laugh with her. Always upbeat and positive, Jamie was fun. I thought of her and Lynn with me laughing and having fun. Suddenly, I missed Lynn so terribly much and I was sad beyond tears, but I tried my best not to show it and not to ruin Jamie's surprise visit.

She walked into the house ahead of me and, when she turned, she stood in the morning light that lit up the kitchen. Now that I see her again, and see her in a different light and without Lynn by her side to diminish her beauty, this is a girl that I definitely could fall for and live with for the rest of my life. I didn't notice her as much before because when she stood next to Lynn, she almost became invisible. Lynn was so very beautiful that she'd make Pamela Anderson or Cameron Diaz look plain.

I took her to the master bedroom to show her Gwen sleeping like the dead. The sight of Gwen naked and sleeping so soundly was startling even for me, as it obviously was for Jamie. I could have made a pile of dough selling tickets to passing men for the chance of seeing Gwen naked.

"Psst, hey buddy, come here, you wanna see Gwen? For ten bucks I'll show you my 23-year-old naked hottie."

Boy did she ever have a hot body. Certainly, I had to pinch myself to realize that I had just fucked and sucked this 23-year-old hottie to total orgasmic deep sleep.

"Well, she has certainly filled out in all the right places from when I remember her as a kid," said Jamie eying her everywhere and never removing her stare from her nakedness. "I haven't seen her since she went away to college. Of course, I saw her a few months ago at the funeral but she was dressed all in black and standing upright."

"Yeah, she's pretty hot," I said staring down at her shapely body.

"I never thought she had such a killer body in the way of a Barbie doll." She looked up at me. "I'd kill to have her body. Her tits are amazing," said Jamie stepping closer and leaning forward for a better look. "Are they real?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. "It's all in the genetic makeup. There's nothing phony about this girl. What you see is what you get with Gwen."

Suddenly, I wondered what her mother looked like, if Lynn and Gwen looked this good, I could only imagine how hot her mother must be, that is, unless they got their good looks from Daddy. Suddenly, my cock started responding to the sight of Gwen naked, again.

"I can see that it must have been very hard for you," said Jamie laughing and looking down at my growing erection and then back over to Gwen before looking at me. "She's flawless."

We stood staring at Gwen's amazing body.

"Can I get you some coffee?"

"Sure," said Jamie looking at her watch, "but let me demonstrate some of my techniques in control by waking up sleeping beauty first."

Okay, I thought to myself. This ought to be good. I took a step back and allowed Mistress Jamie to do her thing.

She looked down at Gwen sleeping so soundly before she crawled on the mattress like a commando on a secret, stealth mission. Without disturbing Gwen's slumber, she made herself comfortable between her outstretched legs. She turned and winked at me before moving her mouth ever so close to Gwen's exposed, shaved pussy, so close that, if Gwen had not shaved her pubic hair, Jamie's mouth would have been buried in her bush.

Without touching any part of her body, she flicked out her tongue ever so gently and licked Gwen's pussy. Immediately, I noticed how different women eat pussy than guys eat pussy. Women don't waste any licks. They know exactly where to lick, how much pressure to put behind their licks, and when to finger fuck and suck. Guys are all over the place hoping that by giving a massive amount of licks that they'll eventually hit a homerun and score with an orgasm. Usually, the woman tires of the guy fumbling around, fakes an orgasm, and gives him what he wants, a blowjob. Later, after he leaves, she'll get herself off by masturbating.

Gradually, she increased the pressure of her tongue and the length of her licks. Gwen stirred and I could see her pussy begin to glisten with moisture. Jamie's tongue parted Gwen's pussy lips like a flower blooming in the morning sun. It was an amazing lesson to watch a skilled professional at work. Please, do not try this at home.

Although it was more than a couple of minutes before Gwen reacted to Jamie's licks to her shaved pussy, it was an amazingly arousing sight to witness Gwen slowly being sexually stimulated awake. It has always been one of my fantasies for a lover to awaken me with a blowjob and here I watched in complete awe and envious fascination, as Jamie gave Gwen my secret fantasy.

Jamie sucked her clit with precision slowly increasing the pressure licking it harder and more deliberate with her tongue, even getting her lips in there to do her magic with Gwen's clit. It was almost as if Gwen was dreaming of having her pussy eaten and reacting to what was happening in her dream. She still had her eyes closed. Then, when Jamie started finger fucking her, Gwen started fondling her own big tits and pulling, turning, and twisting her nipples, until they were erect.

I so wanted to lean down and take her big nipples in my mouth, as I fondled her big knockers. I suddenly had the urge to lie over Jamie, pull up her short skirt, pull down her bikini panties, and bury my cock between her legs, as she ate Gwen or to go to Gwen's side of the bed and offer my cock to her half opened mouth. I watched Gwen start to wiggle her ass and move her legs, stretching them out completely and then withdrawing them and bending them up and spreading them more apart. Inside and out, she had a beautiful pussy. Obviously, what Jamie was skillfully doing to Gwen's pussy was giving her plenty of pure physical pleasure. It was so very hot to watch Jamie eat Gwen's pussy and to watch Gwen responding to being eaten in her sleep.

Then, when she opened her eyes and stretched with her arms over her head and yawned, I couldn't remove my eyes from her uplifted tits. Even at that angle, they still looked big. Still, it was another minute before she realized what was happening. She looked down and saw Jamie between her legs. I wish I had the forethought to grab my digital camera because the surprised look on her face would have won a prize somewhere. Yeah, can you imagine seeing this video on America's Funniest Home Video television show? Gwen grabbed Jamie's head between her hands and really started getting into it. She pulled Jamie's face deeper in her pussy and humped her mouth with her wet pussy.

Only, as soon as Gwen touched Jamie, Jamie stopped eating her. She turned Gwen to her side and let loose with a massive wallop to her ass. Wham!

"Ow! That fucking hurt," with her eyes immediately welling up with tears.

I was shocked. Here I was practically beating the skin off of Gwen's ass and Jamie gives her one wallop that got to her. I stood there in dumbfounded disbelief with my mouth open.

"Did I tell you to touch me, bitch?"

'Wham!' Jamie whacked her ass again.

"No," said Gwen in a quietly submissive voice. "I'm sorry."

'Wham!' Again, Jamie whacked Gwen's ass.

"Did I tell you to talk?"

"No," said Gwen in a fear filled voice. "I'm sorry."

'Wham!' She slapped her ass again.

"Sorry is no excuse, bitch," she said

Jamie reached up and grabbed her tits, one in each hand and squeezed hard. Gwen winced in pain. Then, she twisted, turned, and pulled her nipples. Determined not to make a sound without permission again, Gwen covered her mouth with her hand. After she recovered from the initial painful impact, I thought Gwen was going to have an orgasm. The look on her face was total arousal.

Jamie scooted up on the bed and lifted her skirt up to her waist exposing her sheer, yellow panties. Damn, she had nice legs with shapely thighs that culminated with a round, camel toed mound between them. To see her panties exposed like that was freaking arousing. The sight of her on my bed with her skirt bunched up around her waist and her panties in full view brought back memories of our first night together when she came to my door and collapsed in my arms after Lynn's ex-boyfriend beat the crap out of her.

That was one of the hottest times that I ever had helping Lynn to strip Jamie naked, a hot time that was only eclipsed by last night when I stripped Gwen naked. It was obvious to me now that I really enjoyed stripping women naked. Ah, life is good when you're a horny guy and are surrounded by young, beautiful, hot women who don't mind being stripped naked. Thank you, God.

The first time meeting Jamie, the images of Lynn stripping Jamie naked filled my mind with lust and my cock with blood. I had a huge erection watching what happened later that night. It was so erotically exciting to watch two women about to go at one another. I felt like I was watching a porn movie only this was real and was happening in my bedroom.

"Now, take off my panties and lick my pussy. I need to cum in your mouth." Jamie grabbed a handful of Gwen's hair and in one hard pull forced her face between her legs. Gwen winced with the painful forcefulness of Jamie's hair pull.

My cock instantly responded to what Jamie demanded Gwen do, take off her panties and lick her pussy. I couldn't wait to see Jamie's pussy, again. I couldn't wait to watch Gwen eat Jamie. I couldn't wait to watch Jamie orgasm from being eaten by Gwen.

It took all the control that I had not to reach down and start stroking myself. It took all the control that I had not to jump in between them and have a wild orgy but my penis was sore and I was spent. I still hadn't recovered from my two hours of non-stop fucking with Gwen. I needed a shot of Adrenaline or some Human Growth Hormones to make me into Superman, again.

I was in awe of Jamie's total control over Gwen. She knew just want to say and do. Then, I remembered Jamie telling me that she had only been with Lynn sexually. Obviously, for her to eat Gwen and order Gwen to eat her, the truth was otherwise. Suddenly, I had a vision of Jamie with all types of women and with her being the tough bi-sexual Butch. Only, as soon as the word Butch flashed across my mind, it dissipated because Jamie with her short skirts and matching lingerie was just as feminine as Gwen and as was Lynn.

Immediately, Gwen responded. She carefully reached up and removed Jamie's panties and got comfortable between her legs. It was so excitingly hot to watch Gwen peel away Jamie's panties exposing her trimmed pussy. I watched Gwen's tongue flick out her lustful licks and her fingers playing with Jamie's clit. It was very erotic watching Gwen eating Jamie's pussy. Gwen had Jamie wiggling her hips on the bed in no time. I watched as Jamie unbuttoned her blouse and lifted up her bra exposing her huge jugs. Deftly, she began fingering her nipples as Gwen continued eating her and finger fucking her.

Watching Gwen lying there naked with her perfect ass exposed to me, while eating Jamie was too much to endure and it took all the self-control that I possessed not to fuck Gwen up the ass or to bury my cock deep between her legs deep in her pussy. Obviously, Jamie's pussy was not the first pussy that Gwen had eaten either. Who are these women?

Obviously, Gwen was getting into this action too, as she slowly and then more quickly started rubbing her thighs together like a grasshopper. The room smelled of sweet sex. These women made me feel sexually inept. These women, obviously, at their young age, have had more sexual experience that I've had at double their age. Already, I had a stiff erection watching the sexual activity of Gwen going down on Jamie. Suddenly, Gwen stopped and stared up at Jamie.

"Did I tell you to stop?"

Jamie gave her a hard slap across her face. Oh, my God. Just the loud sound of that slap made me wince. I clearly saw the imprint of Jamie's fingers on Gwen's face. I made a mental note to never piss off Jamie.

"No, but—" said Gwen recoiling, rubbing her face, and holding back her tears.

I thought for sure she was going to start crying. I thought for sure that Gwen, bigger and stronger than Jamie would retaliate and hit her back and there in the privacy of my bedroom would begin a wild catfight. Now, that would be hot to watch Gwen and Jamie rolling around on the bed naked while slapping one another.

"But what, bitch, but what?" Jamie didn't even give her a chance to speak. She raised her hand in readiness to slap her again.

"I, uhm, I have to pee," said Gwen recoiling away from her reach. "I have to pee real bad."

"Okay, go pee and we'll finish this later."

Gwen ran to the bathroom and Jamie scooted off the big bed, claimed her panties, and put them on. She looked at me with a big smile and then looked down at my stiff cock, shrugged, and laughed. 

"You just have to know how to handle her." She winked. "She's very submissive, you know. You were giving her all the wrong signals making her go in an unfamiliar dominant direction, no doubt." She pointed to Polo and Seymour lying by the foot of the bed sprawled out sleeping soundly. "Unfortunately, and forgive the reference, but you must think of her as you would a dog. You have to be the pack leader and once she perceives you taking control from her and for her, she willingly will give it up to you."

"Interesting," I said finding it difficult of thinking of Gwen as a dog and then thinking that Gwen was the best looking dog that I ever saw. If I was to think of her as a breed of dog, she was definitely an Afghan hound, beautiful, elegant, and graceful.

"As most dogs are happy being led, she doesn't want the control to make decisions of her own. Having sexual control puts her in a panicked state, while removing some of the sexual fantasy and excitement that she'd otherwise feel, when correctly controlled by her master or in my case, her mistress."

"I had no idea," I said shocked by all the information.

"Besides, she doesn't get aroused controlling you as she would, if you controlled her. She doesn't know what to do when she's in control. It confuses her to make sexual decisions. Her sexual desires are contingent on you and on you directing her where to go and what to do. She's happier, when you tell her what to do and allow her to concentrate only on her and on your pleasure, without having to think about what happens next."

"I can see that now," I said.

"It's up to you to lead her where you want her to go. That's the only way that you can sexually satisfy her. Then, once she's feels she's in your control, she's your sexual pawn."




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 15



"Yeah, well, I guess I did everything wrong in the beginning but towards the end, I gave her want she wanted, I think," I said with a nervous laugh while shaking my head and feeling a little foolish that these women knew more about this sexual stuff than I did. "I dunno it was all new to me. She's the first woman that I had sex with who wanted to be hit," I said with a shrug. "Maybe because I was holding back, but I couldn't hit her hard enough please her or squeeze her tits hard enough to pleasure her."

"That's because you started out on the wrong foot with her. Had you immediately followed her lead when she told you that she liked being hit," she said looking at me. "She did tell you that she liked being hit, right?"

"Yeah, she did. I did strip her naked, though," I said with a laugh.

"You did? No way."

"Yeah, she was drunk and asleep and I couldn't resist," I said suddenly feeling guilty that I took advantage of her.

"You know, Freddie, stripping a woman naked, so long as you don't hurt her and/or you're not some sex fiend on the street, is every woman's fantasy."

"It is?"

"It's mine," she said giving me a look. "I was so hot for you, when Lynn stripped me naked," she said giving me a kissing and taking hold of my cock. 

The telephone ringing interrupted our conversation and brought me back to reality. I left to room to answer it and to allow myself some privacy.

"Hello? Oh, hi! How are you? It's so nice to finally talk to you."

I was not only shocked by the identity of the caller but also by what this unexpected telephone caller requested of me.

To be continued... 



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 16



Chapter 16

Gwen and Jamie leaves. Freddie's alone with his bad self.

"Yes, of course, I'd love for you to come and stay for a visit. When? Next weekend? Okay. Sure. I'd love to finally meet you. Hotel? No, don't be silly. I won't hear of it. I have plenty of room to put you two up here at my house. Oh, you're coming alone and without your husband? I'm sorry to hear that. I would have liked to meet him. I hope he feels better. Give him my best regards. Yes, of course, I'll e-mail you directions to my house. Just let me grab a pen and paper. What's your e-mail address? Okay, I have it. I'll see you Friday evening. Good-bye."

When I hung up the telephone, I thought better of saying anything to Jamie about the identity of the caller or about the details of the telephone call. I don't know why, but I for some reason I kept it from her. Besides, I took the call in the den and she was in the kitchen unable to hear anything.

Now, I was suddenly preoccupied with the thoughts of my surprise visitor making an unexpected visit next weekend. Well, if nothing else, it will give me reason to pickup and clean up the house. I grabbed a couple cups of coffee and sat down at the kitchen table with Jamie. We drank our coffee while chatting like old friends who haven't seen one another for a while. We enjoyed one another's company without any of the uncomfortable pauses in our conversation that happens sometimes when you haven't seen someone in a while and begin to grow apart.

I've made an observation over the years, which is, once you've seen someone naked, experienced the pleasure of their body, and given them the pleasure of your body, there's nothing left to hide. A bond of friendship is formed where, even if years pass without seeing this person, I still hold the deep rooted fondness that I held for them, when I first got together with them. All the pretenses, along with the false barriers of inhibitions, are gone. At that point, more like old lovers reuniting, I'm more than friends with them.

There's a freeing openness after having had sex with someone, someone you ordinarily felt close to begin with, and now you're linked together in a bond of lust and in some cases love that will last the rest of your lives. Being that I was their lover, having entwined our naked bodies for sex and for love, it's as if we're one person. That, I think, is the biggest thing that I like about the swinging lifestyle. When I swapped partners with another, I instantly connected and became close friends, at least, that's how it was for me, when I was in the swinging lifestyle so many years ago and that's how I feel about Gwen and Jamie now.

Of course, there are exceptions to every rule. The exception to this is when the person who you've seen naked, experienced the pleasure of their body, and given them the pleasure of your body is an ex-husband or an ex-wife or a psycho, stalking boyfriend or girlfriend. At that point the bond of trust is broken and the pretences and inhibitions are replaced by fear, disgust, betrayal, and/or anger.

We made some small talk while waiting for Gwen to emerge from the bathroom naked. It seemed as if she was taking a long time in there but women are like that. As if peeing against a tree or in an open trough in the men's room of a baseball game, guys just stand, pee, and give it a quick shake, rinse their hands and they're out. Women look at their hair, stare at any imagined new wrinkles, check for lumps on their breasts, and turn one way and the other looking at their body to see if they are suddenly fat or are still fat. Once guys reach a certain age, the age of the baseball cap, as a daily fashion accessory, guys just don't care that much about their appearance other than to make sure there are no boogers hanging from their nose. 

'Okay, just a quick check of my nose, there no boogers, I'm good to go.'

The sound of the shower interrupted our conversation. As soon as we heard the shower, we looked at one another and laughed at the fact that we had the same sexy idea at the same time. There's something erotic about sharing personal time with someone, such as taking a shower together. I put down my coffee and removed my bathrobe while watching Jamie as she put down her coffee and quickly stripped naked. 

Damn, it was hot watching her strip off her clothes, skirt, blouse, bra, and panty. I love watching women, especially women who have a body like Jamie's body, get undressed and get naked. She has a fabulous body, even if she does have fake tits. Still, with her flat stomach, shapely legs, and round ass, she looks good. Only, her tits don't move in the way that natural tits move about and sway like Gwen's tits. Also, her nipples appeared unusually higher making her tits appear a bit too perky. Still, tits are tits and I love her tits equally as much as I love Gwen's tits.

Gwen was just soaping up when we walked in on her. She didn't immediately notice us enter the shower. She had her eyes closed and was softly singing to herself, while washing her hair. She was using the master bedroom shower, a space that was certainly big enough for the three of us. Matter of fact, three more could easily fit, if there ever was the cause for having six people showering and/or playing together. Hey, you never know, there could be a plane crash on my street with the female survivors needing to take an emergency shower.

'Okay, for your, uhm, personal safety, I'll be showering with you,' I imagined saying to the female crash survivors. 'I need five women at a time to take a shower with me. No, don't remove your clothing, yet. You, Sister Mary Francis, you tall, Texas Blonde, you cute, little cheerleader type, you Angelina Jolie look-a-like, and you with the big breasts. Yes, it's important that I shower with you, so that I, um, can check you for injuries. Yeah, that's it, please form a single line and put your arms over your head, so that I can slowly, I mean, quickly undress you. What's that? No, the men can use the other bathroom at the end of the hall. Yes, they can check themselves for injuries. I won't be doing that. Geez, do I look gay to you?'

When I remodeled this house, I put extra attention and money into the kitchen, bathrooms, and closets. I knew that those extra cost additions would pay me dividends whenever the time came that I wanted to sell the house and would enable me to sell the house quicker, too. Now that I suddenly had female houseguests, I was glad that I constructed a more woman friendly house.

I grabbed the soap from Gwen and started soaping her up, while paying special attention to her big tits, her pussy, and her ass. Shockingly, her tits, pussy, and ass were so very dirty. I really needed to take the extra time and care to scrub them extra good. A hardship to bear scrubbing a dirty girl's tits, pussy, and ass but it was one that, as host of the house, I took it upon myself to do. It was my responsibility to my female houseguest, after all. If ever I want to feel up a woman, volunteer to soap her up and she'll love it. Trust me, it works every time. Of course, it helps greatly if the woman is already naked. 

'Hello, police, there's a perverted man standing on the corner holding a bar of soap and a towel and asking passing women if they want him to soap them up, while taking a shower with him.'

I loved standing behind her soaping up her back all the way down to her ass and lower still down between her legs. As I reached around her and soaped up her big, firm tits, my hand slid down her flat stomach and continued to the far reaches of her shaved pussy and then back around to her ass and all over again, tits, pussy, ass and tits, pussy, and ass. This was my last chance with Gwen. She was leaving early tomorrow for Boston to find an apartment.

At first, I had hoped that she'd stay with me longer, a lifetime, but, now, after I experienced her insatiable sexual appetite, one sexy weekend visit with her was enough to last me for a while. Besides, she was so young and energetic that she made me feel old and tired. She exhausted me. Even though I enjoyed having sex with her, I'd be happy to have some normalcy in my life, again. After having non-stop sex with three beautiful, young women, I was looking forward to having a hot dog grilled on the barbeque and a beer, while watching the ballgame from my recliner.

We started making out and she reached down and soaped up my stiff cock real good. The feel of her firm grip on my soapy cock felt so slippery good. Then, I turned around and while Gwen was still soaping up my cock from behind, I started soaping up Jamie's naked body. The feeling of soaping up two different naked women, going from one to the other and back again, is erotically depraved and even though both had great bodies, they both had different bodies. Jamie was a little shorter and didn't have the broad shouldered slim waist athletic build of Gwen. Whereas Gwen was a full 36C, Jamie was a 34D. Where Gwen was firm, Jamie was womanly soft. Nonetheless their body dissimilarities, both women's bodies added to the stiffness of my erection.

Then, when I pushed Jamie against the shower wall, she reached down and inserted my cock in her wet pussy. When I lifted her up and held her in place and began a slow humping rhythm, she wrapped her legs around me. Meanwhile Gwen was on her knees kissing my ass. Then, I felt it. I felt her tickling tongue licking inside my ass crack. There's no other feeling like it. She was tossing my salad and I was really getting into her licking my ass. It felt so good that I was having a difficult time on focusing on fucking Jamie and she was going to make me cum if I allowed her to continue. Knowing that Jamie was here for, at least, a few more days and that Gwen was leaving tomorrow, I lowered Jamie to a standing position, pulled my cock out of her pussy, and turned to Gwen. 

Before I could move, practically slapping her across the face with it, as soon as I turned to her, Gwen took my cock in her mouth. There she was in the shower on her knees sucking my cock. I was not ready to cum, yet, by a long shot but she was intent on sucking me. She was making all of those sexy sucking sounds that women make and that guys love to her, when they're getting blown.

I reached down, lifted her off her knees, pulled her up to me, and kissed her. Normally, I would have had her brush her teeth and tongue before kissing me but having just soaped up and washed my ass thoroughly and not having moved my bowels yet this morning, I was squeaky clean. Besides, I was so freaking turned on that I think that I would have kissed her if I just had a bad case of diarrhea. Then, I gave her a hard wallop on her ass.

'Wham!'

She rewarded me with a more passionate kiss and I walloped her ass, again. I could feel her suddenly getting more aroused. Thanks to Jamie, I was beginning to get the hang of this.

We fell back against the shower wall with me against the wall and with her facing out to Jamie. I knew that Jamie would take the signal and she began tossing Gwen's salad. As I was fucking Gwen, I wondered why she jumped so suddenly every so often. I wasn't complaining it felt good to have her jump like that because it felt like a hump and that made my cock go in deeper inside her pussy. Then, when I looked over her shoulder, Jamie was pinching Gwen's ass, while she was tossing her salad. Gwen was getting so very aroused by the painful pinching action.

The three of us stopped playing to finish our shower and, once we dried off, we headed back to the bedroom and to the bed. Gwen rushed out to the kitchen to get some coffee while Jamie and I kept the bed warm for her. Although I was hot to fuck Jamie, I knew that I could have sex with her any time after Gwen left for home tomorrow morning. As I didn't know when and if I would ever get another chance like this again, I wanted to spend more time with Gwen's hot body and I got the impression that Jamie wanted to spend more time with Gwen's hot body, too. I figured the two of us could give Gwen a day of pleasure that she'd soon not forget.

Gwen gulped down her coffee and jumped in bed between us. I was eager to watch the two women together and Jamie took my cue when I scooted over to give the two women more room on the bed. They started kissing with Jamie acting more like the man. While she kissed Gwen, she felt and squeezed her tits and pulled and twisted her nipples. Then, she reached down between her legs and fingered her clit before inserting a finger. Gwen was instantly aroused by Jamie's forceful actions and it was arousing for me to watch these two women make out like this. Jamie had Gwen moaning within seconds.

After watching the women for several arousing minutes, time that was unbearably long for me to be excluded from their erotic fun, I motioned for Jamie to scoot up higher while I scooted down lower. I made myself comfortable between Gwen's legs while Jamie practically sat on Gwen's face. The three of us were going to have an orgasmic chain of pleasure. It didn't take long for me to make Gwen cum. 

Jamie had done most of the work and it was up to me to continue with my tongue and fingers where Jamie had left off with her finger. She was getting close to cumming, as I could taste the difference in her juices when she did. She tasted warmer and sweeter when she had an orgasm on my tongue. Suddenly, she was there, her juices were warmer and sweeter. I looked up watching her orgasm.

I reached up and pulled and twisted her nipples hoping that would push her over the top and it did. The more aroused Gwen became with my licks, finger fucking, gentle clit massage, and with the pulling, turning, and twisting of her nipples, the more she got into licking Jamie's pussy. It was electrically exciting to have two women getting off at nearly the same time. Then, it was my turn. Jamie started blowing me, teasing me at first with little licks that started with my balls and that eventually led to her taking my cock deep in her throat, while Gwen was tossing my salad, again. When I turned away from Jamie to face Gwen, Jamie resumed tossing my salad where Gwen left off and Gwen impaled her mouth on my cock. Back and forth, they took their turns trying to get me off. There I was a 50-year-old man getting blown and having his salad tossed by alternating 25-year-old and 23-year-old women, sex doesn't get any better than this.

It amazed me that I didn't cum. Too tired, maybe because I was still feeling the effects of last night but this morning, I was glad that I accidentally took a Cialis instead of a Viagra last night. With the Cialis, I was good to maintain an erection for another 24 hours, whereas the Viagra would have worn off long ago. Old habits die hard and my doctor insists that I no longer need the Viagra or the Cialis, once he prescribed the testosterone supplement, Andro-gel. Still, I felt like a 35-year-old man again, whenever I take a Viagra or a Cialis in conjunction with the Andro-gel. Age is not an easy pill to swallow.

I needed to fuck Gwen, again. I pulled my cock from Jamie's mouth and turned to Gwen. She reached down and inserted my cock inside of her as I mounted her. She was so wet and she was so ready. I couldn't imagine either of these women saying no or that they had a headache. Gwen pushed me back with her strong legs, rolled me over, and mounted me. She rested her knees on the bed with her ass raised up in the air a little. Jamie took up position behind Gwen and tossed Gwen's salad as I fucked her.

I humped her higher to give Jamie some clearance to work with and for her to maintain contact with Gwen's vital parts. I could feel Jamie's tongue moving from where my cock was in Gwen's pussy and upward. There's nothing like the feel of a threesome, one older man with two younger women. It's total sexual involvement, and when one tires, he or she can take a break and allow the other two to continue. Only, I was the only one tiring. These women were insatiable.

Between my fucking Gwen and Jamie tossing her salad, it didn't take her long for Gwen to cum. I was happy that I still had enough of a stiff cock for Jamie. We assumed the same position of Jamie on top and with me fucking Jamie this time and Gwen tossing her salad. Jamie was unable to hold back for very long and she gave it up within a few minutes. Fortunately, with the thoughts of what was to come, I was able hold back. I didn't want to cum in Gwen or in Jamie. I was saving myself for my favorite position, the magical magnificence of a dual blowjob.

The women took their positions on either side of me taking their turns sucking my cock while scooting up to French kissing me in-between blowing me. Then, when they both took up sentry at my cock, I reached both my hands down and grabbed Gwen's right tit in my right hand and Jamie's left breast in my left hand. I was in Heaven and it would only be a few minutes before I shot all that I had in me in them. It was then that I exploded a huge load of warm cum in Gwen's mouth. Jamie licked off the rest of my cum off, while continuing to blow me. Just as she released my cock from her mouth, another gush flew out and hit Gwen across the face. Both women laughed uncontrollably. Except for the first time having sex with Lynn, may she rest in peace, this was one of the best times that I have ever had.

Then, while Gwen went to use to bathroom to clean up, Jamie and I started making out like horny teenagers. She was kissing me as if she was in love with me and I couldn't take my hands off of her big tits. Of course, the first thing that I thought of was rebound sex. She had just broken up with her boyfriend after she found someone else, cheated on him, and he left her. Hey, rebound sex is okay with me. After being with Jamie like that, again, like the first night that I was with her, I couldn't wait for Gwen to go home, so that I could be alone with Jamie to see where this would go. Maybe, this wasn't rebound sex. Maybe, this was something real.

Even though it struck me as odd how Jamie suddenly appeared, again, out of the blue after leaving so abruptly, I was happy she was here and was thrilled to see her again. I understood her motives for leaving but it was difficult to lose a friend after losing Lynn. In that regard, her leaving was a bit selfish, but I chalked that up to her immaturity. After all, I lost Lynn, too, and Jamie and I could have helped one another through our tears and sorrow by staying together longer, at least, until the hurt healed somewhat.

Nonetheless, the timing of her resurfacing was good and something that I needed. Before Gwen and her, I was alone and lonely and now after spending some hot sexual time with both of them, I felt like my old self. Now, I wanted to do things and experience life again instead of getting drunk while watching television. Only, I knew that Jamie was leaving soon, too. I don't know why I knew, I just did.

Jamie and I helped Gwen pack her car with her sister's things. Although, I offered them all to her, she allowed me to keep the photos that I took of Lynn, the jewelry I bought her, and a few keepsake reminders of her. It was sad packing up the boxes of Lynn's stuff. None of us relished the idea of going through her closet and drawers, but we did. Along with having a little wine to help numb our way through the process and having one another there for the emotional support, somehow, we packed it all up. Actually, it was easier with the three of us doing it. When one of us came across something that made us nostalgic about Lynn or made us feel melancholy, we had the other two to help us through it with hugs and by sharing the laughter and the tears. 

Nonetheless, even though she was dead, it felt like we were invading her privacy. It felt as if any minute she would walk through the door and catch us going through her private and personal possessions and admonish us for being so insensitive and invasive. We were all still in shock and none of us could believe that she was dead. It felt as if it were a bad dream. It felt as if she was still alive and only gone from the house for an extended period of time on a trip and would return. With Lynn dying so suddenly and so tragically, I firmly believe that the good die young. I guess I'll be among the living for a very long time. 




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 16



We said our good-byes complete with hugs, kisses, and promises to stay in touch. Yet, I knew once she left that I would never see Gwen, again. She was a honey of a girl. Whichever lucky guy gets her, certainly, will have his hands full, but boy what a ride. I envy him. If only I was younger, I would never let her leave. A woman that beautiful and that sexually uninhibited is a rare being and a rare find.

Still, just as it was all a fluke how Lynn had come in and gone out of my life, it was a fluke that I had hot sex with two 25-year-olds, Lynn and Jamie, and deliriously outrageous sex with Lynn's 23-year-old baby sister, Gwen. Unfortunately, my only real memories left me now of Lynn are the images of her that haunt me and, of course, Seymour, her giant Rhodesian Ridgeback of a dog. When I'm alone and lonely, she comes to me in my thoughts and I think of her. Unfortunately, thinking of her makes me sad and makes me feel even more alone and even more lonely. It's a vicious cycle of self-pity, self-indulgence, and depression. Probably, I should join a support group or seek therapy to help me through the loss of her. Probably, I won't, preferring to suffer through it alone and using the loss of her as an excuse to return to drinking. 

Especially now after meeting Gwen, she filled my mind with the memory of her sister. But for her dyed blonde hair, it was startling how much she looked like Lynn. The contrast of Lynn's light colored eyes was shocking against her dark, lush hair. Gwen's dyed blonde hair somehow removed the contrast that he eyes made.

Just when I was beginning to feel a bit better, Gwen arrived to bask me in the shadow of her dead sister. And now she is gone and now I am back to missing my Lynn. I'm glad that I still have Jamie here to help me through another day, even if it is only temporary. One day at a time is good advice and what I need to do to get me through the horror of losing Lynn, the love of my life. Nonetheless, it felt good to finally be home alone with Jamie. I felt more connected to Jamie than I did Gwen. Although, I knew that I'd never feel the connection with Jamie that I had with Lynn, I still enjoyed Jamie's company and liked having her around.

She was fun and she gave life to the house. Unfortunately, nonetheless, it still felt like sex with Jamie and not love. Although there was a huge sexual attraction between us, that is where it began and ended. I was glad for her visit because I knew that once she left, again, that she'd be out of my system and I'd have no more second doubts wondering if she and I could have made a go at it. I know now that it was not to be and that she was just a good friend with benefits.

For the next few days, I had trouble concentrating on anything but that surprise telephone call and about the upcoming weekend. Lynn's mother, Marianne, was coming for a visit to meet me. I must have made quite the impression with her family for first Lynn's sister, Gwen, to drive all that way from Rochester, New York east to where I lived in Massachusetts and now for her mother to want to meet me, too. It was a long drive.

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 17



Chapter 17

With Lynn dead and Gwen and Jamie gone, I'm alone with my bad self.

When I thought about the beauty of Lynn and now Gwen, I thought about Marianne and I couldn't help but wonder what she looked like. I would have met her at the funeral but Lynn's Dad made it clear that he didn't want me there and I respected his wishes. It was his daughter after all and in his eyes, I was just her lover. Still, I would have appreciated a moment to say good-bye to Lynn in private, before they put her in the ground forever.

Nonetheless, I didn't want to intrude upon the sorrow of their loss of their daughter by rubbing my presence in their faces. Sure, I would have liked to pay my last respects, but Gwen gave me the location of Lynn's plot and I plan on making a pilgrimage west to Rochester to visit her grave, one day, soon. Seeing her there, resting in peace, will make me happy. Maybe I'll take the dogs with me. Maybe I'll take a chair with me and sit and talk to her for a while. I know that she's not there in spirit, but she's there in body, albeit decomposed body. I believe a visit will help to ease me through the reality of her loss and make me feel better.

Since Lynn and Gwen looked so much alike, I wondered if Marianne looked like an older version of her daughters. I hoped not. I seriously didn't want to find myself in bed with Marianne, too, enough is enough. Next, I'll be sleeping with the grandmother, the aunt, and any cousins who show up on my doorstep. After having sex with three young women, the thoughts of me having sex with Marianne, who was nearly 10 years older than me was not an appealing thought.

I did the math. When I was 15-years-old and jail bait, Lynn's mom was 25-years-old. Then, when I was 30-years-old, Lynn's mom was 40-years-old. It seemed weird and a double standard that I was bothered by seeing myself with an older woman, and not bothered seeing myself with a woman half my age. It's a guy thing, I guess. Besides, lots of women see themselves with younger men more than they do with older men. Then, again, women are more apt to be with older men for money and security than men are of a mind to be with older women for the same. It was then that I decided to tell Jamie that Marianne was coming for a visit to meet me.

"Marianne called me."

"Marianne? Lynn and Gwen's mom?"

"Yeah."

"I figured she would," she said eyeing me with a knowing look. "Was that her on the phone the other day?"

"Yeah," I returned her look. "I don't know why I didn't tell you then. It was, well, there was just so much going on with Gwen here and then you surprising me. Then, when Marianne called I said to myself, now what? What next?"

"It's okay, Freddie. You're still not thinking straight. You're still in mourning. We all are which, to some degree, would explain this huge impromptu sexual orgy we all found ourselves having. In some convoluted way, I know that the only reason Gwen had sex with you was to feel a connection maybe that you shared with her sister." She looked like she was going to cry. "It hasn't been that long since Lynn—"

I kissed and hugged her so that she didn't have to finish the sentence. So, Lynn was the only reason why Gwen had sex with me? I was shocked. Yet, having no regrets for the sex that I had with Gwen, that's okay. Nonetheless, I persevered. 

"So," I said with a laugh and a feigned hurt look on my face, "you don't think that Gwen was attracted to me? And that the only reason why she had sex with me was to feel connected to her sister?"

"Yeah, no, I don't know," she said with an uncomfortable laugh. "It makes sense, but then it doesn't make any sense but that's Gwen." She looked at my confused expression. "I'll put it in baseball terms. Gwen is to the family what Manny Ramirez was to the Red Sox. Any time anything is unexplained, we all say, that's Gwen or that's so Gwen."

"Oh, okay, I understand now."

"An unexpected pregnancy, she was a nearly a change of life baby for Marianne. Gwen had special needs, developmental issues growing up and stayed behind a year in school."

"Yeah, I saw that about her. She didn't get some of my jokes. They went straight over her head." I contemplated the floor. "In that regard, she was nothing like her sister. Lynn was as quick witted as me and always volleyed my comments with a funny retort."

We sat there silently not saying anything for some period of time, twenty minutes or so, until I broke the silence with a question. 

"So, you figured Marianne would call me?" I looked at her. "Why?"

"Well, when Lynn and I were there visiting her to tell her that Lynn was pregnant, she was so happy for her. She was happy that someone like you had come in her life. It didn't matter that you were so much older. She trusted Lynn's judgment," she said looking at me with a warm smile. "I should warn you about Marianne, though, something that I didn't have the chance to warn you about Gwen."

"Warn me? Why would you have to warn me about Lynn's mother?"

"Marianne is a bit of a cougar. She's had affairs with younger man, men that were much younger than you," she said.

"Does her husband know?"

"I don't think so." Then, she looked away and back again, this time with a troubled face. "It mattered to her Dad, though, that his daughter was dating a man such much older. He was upset, which is why he probably is not coming to meet you and why he banned you from attending the funeral. He figured you were a pig taking advantage of his daughter, his little girl." 

"I understand. If it was my daughter seeing someone so much older, I'd think that, too. that he was just taking advantage of her for sex," I said.

Jamie remained silent a long while before speaking, again.

"Marianne felt bad about you not being at the funeral. She figured that you deserved to be there being that you were so much a part of her daughter's life towards the end and she knew that Lynn would have wanted you there, too."

"Still, it hurt not being able to say a final good-bye to Lynn." I paused looking off in the distance thinking of Lynn's laugh. "I know how guys are and how they assume other guys are," I said looking at Jamie. "But I truly loved her."

"I know you did," she reached over and took my hand.

"Imagine how upset Lynn's father would be," I said looking over at Jamie and laughing, "if he knew that I just did his baby girl, Gwen, too."

"Not as upset as he'd be if he knew we both did Gwen," said Jamie with a laugh.

We both laughed and making light of a terrible situation, that being the death of Lynn, made us feel a little better. We spent the remainder of the day doing nothing. The most we did was to have our coffee out on the back screened porch, talk, laugh, and throw a ball around with the dogs. After combating and satisfying Gwen's sexual needs, I needed a day like this. Only, I wanted to show Jamie a good time, too. I wanted to spend some quality time with her and have some memories of her incase this was the last time that we saw one another.

I wanted to show her that I cared for her. I wanted to be intimate with her before she decided to leave, again, which I figured would be later tonight. She had a job to go to tomorrow. Moreover, much like Gwen, I truly figured that this could be the last time that I saw her and whatever private time we spent together today, may be our last.

It was late afternoon when we decided to take a nap. Actually, we had no intention of napping. We just wanted an excuse to go fool around, not that we needed an excuse, but it was a subtle way for each of us to get what we wanted from the other without making one feel pressured. This way, while we were lying beside one another supposedly napping, if something else was to happen, then it did not seem planned, but spontaneous. 

Jamie was dressed in her usual attire a half unbuttoned blouse and a short skirt. She loved showing off her tits and her legs. Besides, feeling her up through her clothes while making out with her was one of my favorite things to do with Jamie or with any woman. Another favorite thing of mine to do was to undress her. I found that slowly removing her clothes as we made out, exceedingly erotic.

Even if I had been with and seen a woman naked a countless number of times, feeling them up through their clothes before slowly stripping them naked, always gave me an erection. There's something erotic about unbuttoning a blouse and seeing her bra and then unzipping her skirt and seeing her panty. I love kissing a woman when she's clad only in her panty and bra. Fooling around with her while she's in her lingerie is nearly as hot as slowly removing her bra and seeing her tits and/or peeling down her panties and seeing her pussy and ass.

As soon as we climbed on the bed, we started fooling around, kissing, touching, and caressing. Obviously, neither of us had any plans on taking a nap. Touching her, feeling her, and kissing her blanked my mind. Where Gwen made me feel old, having sex with Jamie made me feel young. Even though there was only a two year difference in age between the women, it was obvious that Jamie was the more mature of the two. It was a relief that I didn't have to slap her ass or squeeze her tits or pull and twist her nipples. I was so glad to have a fairly normal sexual relationship with Jamie, although having sex with someone half my age is not really normal. It is un-fucking-believable.

'Quick someone get the smelling salts. Freddie has passed out again. C'mon, Freddie, snap out of it. Get back in there and fuck her. We know you can do it. Freddie, Freddie, Freddie, can you hear me?'

Oh, lucky me. Yet, I knew that all of this was coming to an end. Soon, I'd be alone, again. Unfortunately, after having sex with these three lovely, young women, I'd be unable to have a normal relationship with a woman my age. What a cruel joke it is to have these women practically throw themselves at me and then to have them fade away leaving me to solely rely on sexual gratification from women my own age.

Before 23-year-old Gwen came into my life and 25-year-old Jamie reappeared, when I was alone and lonely, I suddenly felt old. Without them here, the house felt so empty and the joy and the laughter that filled me up completely last weekend was now gone from me. The quietness of the big, empty house was a constant reminder of how alone and lonely I was. Every day quickly became another mundane day with the same routine.

It was as if someone had made their wish and blown out the candles at a birthday party and it was over that quickly. All of that build up, the Happy Birthday song was sung, the presents were opened, the cake was eaten, and now the guests were gone. The party was over. The sting of reality hurts more when you are without someone there to share your life. Everyone needs someone in their life.

It felt as if it was closing time at the bar when the bright lights go on and it is time to go home. The reality of the outside world that lurked outside the bar and that hid in the dark recesses of the dimly lit, expansive room now shoved me back from my brief escape from reality. It was the same feeling when I'm out in the street half drunk at 1 am and you don't want the party to end, but everyone has gone home and I'm alone. All of my friends have wives with kids and families. It's tough to party when there is no party and when the party is over. 

I never felt drunk when partying, that is, until I'm alone. Once alone with my bad self, I feel sick, tired, disorientated, and don't want to be alone. Yet, after Lynn, Jamie, and Gwen left I was alone, as if stumbling home drunk and disoriented. If that's my life after the loss of Lynn, Jamie and Gwen, then this is my reality and I hate it. I hate living alone. I hate being alone. I'm the type of man who needs a woman in his life. Suddenly, I felt like Michael J. Fox in Bright Lights, Big City, when his model of a wife dumped him and he was so alone that only the smell of fresh bread could return him to reality. In my case, I missed the smell of Lynn.

No matter the suffering sorrow that I felt from Lynn dying, I didn't want the candles blown out, yet, first with the departure of Gwen and now Jamie. I didn't want to be lit up in the bright light and standing out front on the sidewalk. I didn't want the party to end. After reveling in all this sexual, social, and fantasy activity, I feared being alone. In the dark recesses of my mind, when I was fucking Gwen and making love to Jamie, loneliness haunted me. The sudden quiet when everyone is gone, finally, is deafening and debilitating. Loneliness is like a hunger that is never satisfied until you have someone in your life, again. Loneliness weakened my spirit like Kryptonite weakened Superman.

I didn't mind looking in the mirror before, when I was a young man, but now, as an older man, I don't want to see my reflection anymore. I hate my image and I hate having mirrors in my house that lurk in every room and that come to life as soon as I turn on the light. Now, never turning on a light, I walk around in the dark. What happened to me? I blinked and 25 years has passed me by. All that I did was blink. Where did the last twenty-five years go? 

Why couldn't I have met Lynn or Jamie or Gwen then? Ah, they weren't even born yet? Yes, of course, I know that. Then, why could I not have been born later? It's not fair. This sucks. This really sucks. I don't want to go home, live alone, and be alone with myself. 

I wanted to have slow, passionate sex with Jamie that would last forever. I wanted to make love to her instead of fucking her. I needed to know if there was something else there, something to take me to the next level with her, and something that would endure the length of time. Yet, even though the sex we had was hot, magical even, it paled in comparison to the sex that I had with Lynn.

Yes, I love Jamie but not in the same way that I loved Lynn. I knew now that I'd never replicate what I had with Lynn with Jamie. My love affair with women was over and my heart died when Lynn died. I cringed at the thought of being alone and lonely for the rest of my life. Suddenly, I saw myself as an embittered old man, a recluse who lived alone. How awful to have no one in my life and to be alone with my twisted thoughts all day, every day? How awful to have no one else to ponder, care for, talk to, worry about, and laugh and relax with over a cup of coffee? How awful it is to be me?

With the tragic and sudden death of her, the love affair that I had with Lynn was over before it even started. Then, I looked to Jamie to get me through my grief. Why did she return? Why did she come back to tease me with her beauty and charm? Now, that she had come and gone again, I wish she had stayed away because the pain of her leaving the second time is worse. The loneliness that I feel now is more severe than before. 

She was so very young and so very beautiful, surely not as beautiful as Lynn, but I could have loved her, maybe, one day. If only she had stayed for a while longer, another day, then another week, a month, and a year would have passed. Surely, then, I would have loved her and she me. Now, she's gone, too. Lynn, Gwen, and Jamie are all gone and I am alone with the dogs, Seymour and Polo. Yes, I love my dogs, but they're not a fair exchange for hot, sexy, young women.

It was almost 9 pm when Jamie drove away Sunday night. But for the dogs, I was alone, again. Only, this time was different. Maybe because the house was so alive with life, with Gwen and Jamie, and now suddenly so dead, this time was worse than it was before. There was eeriness to the house, a feeling that stuck to the walls, the floor, and the ceiling like electro-magnetically charged dust. 

The dogs felt it. They were ill at ease, restless, pacing around the house, whining, and they wouldn't lie down. It freaked me out when they sat straight up wagging their tails while staring up at the ceiling or turning their head from side to side while looking up at the wall. Suddenly, they preferred staying outside than being indoors. In and out, as soon as I put them out, they wanted to come back inside. They were just as restless as I was. Now, I really felt alone with no young naked women, but for the friendly, loyal dogs to occupy me.

I've never been to a psychic and have never had my palm read or my fortune told. Definitely, I'm not one who believes in ghosts, but if I did, I would have thought that Lynn's spirit was here. Maybe, the energy of Gwen and Jamie's visit brought her here, and maybe, that was the underlying reason for their visits. Maybe, she exists and is alive in another dimension, and maybe, she's watching me and can hear me but I can't see or hear her. That's ridiculous, isn't it?

"Lynn, if you're here, I miss you and I love you, baby." As soon as I said it I felt foolish but saying it made me feel better. "So, what's it like being dead?"

Figuring she was with God in Heaven, I stared at the ceiling, while talking to her and hoping that she could hear me. Maybe something would come through from the other side, from her to me. Listening, I strained to hear a whisper, anything, and jumped when Seymour's tail knocked an empty beer can from the coffee table. The dogs were ill at ease again and walked to the back door and stood by it until I let them out again for the twentieth time today. Weird, so weird.

I need a drink. I broke open my scotch, the good stuff, the Glenlivet, 21-years-old. Ah, if only I had a nice, blonde or a redheaded 21-year-old right now. I could do her proud. 

"Good evening," I said acting foolish and pretending that I was meeting a young woman, as I poured myself a double. "What's your name young lady? Emma? That's a lovely name for such a beautiful woman. Would you like to accompany me home and fuck my brains out? You would? Wonderful."

Only, I was already home and there's no one here but me and the dogs. The dogs wanted to go out again, because they're suddenly afraid to stay in the house, no doubt, because of my girlfriend, who is now a ghost, and is haunting me.

To be continued... 



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 18



Chapter 18

A cougar wearing white gloves, nylons, garter belts, and giving blowjobs

The next few days slowly drifted by until it was late Friday night, a little after 10 pm, when Marianne pulled in my driveway. She drove one of those Volvo Cross Country things. I hate Volvos, especially crossover SUV's. They're so safe, so dependable, so boring, and not much fun. I hoped she wouldn't be just like her car. After having sex with her daughter Gwen, if she was a car, she'd be a Lamborghini, brutally fast, while still sexy.

To me, there's nothing like taking my life in my hands in a rear wheel drive speedster, such as a Mustang or a Camaro, peeling out and burning some rubber, as I sling the rear end sideways, until the traction and stability control kicks in and catches it, just before it spins a donut. Now, those are real cars, especially during a first snowfall in the winter and especially with the traction and stability control turned off. Yahoo! It's more fun never knowing if I'm going to make it home alive. Hang on to your balls because, unsafe at any speed, we're going downhill on an icy road and taking dead man's curve at twice the sane speed.

Just before she arrived, I thought that I should have gotten her cell phone number because I was beginning to worry. I thought she'd be here by now. Granted it's a long drive, but it was getting late, too late for a woman to be on the road alone, especially after what had happened to Lynn. I was glad when she arrived, finally.

I watched her from the upstairs window as she pulled in the driveway. Having been so curious what she'd look like, I wanted to see what she looked like, before running down and opening the front door. I got a look at her through her windshield. Much like her daughters, Lynn and Gwen, she looked blonde and pretty. Then, I stood and watched her from my front porch and was shocked when she stepped out of the car.

Dina fucking Merrill live and in her prime. That's who she looked like. She looked just like Dina Merrill. Only, be still my heart, she had the body of Angie Dickinson. A cross between Dina Merrill and Angie Dickinson, she made me wonder what grandma looked like. Between Lynn, Gwen, and now Marianne, the gene pool in this family is amazing. My fantasy dream women all rolled into one, she had the face of Dina Merrill and the body of Angie Dickenson. Wow! Hot!

So, is that what Gwen will look like when she's nearly 60-years-old. Marianne was absolutely stunning. Truly, I figured that she'd be short and hippy and look nothing like her daughters. Boy was I wrong. The genetic makeup of Lynn and Gwen's family is spectacular. They must be Nordic because they certainly aren't one of us fat Americans. I could just see the three of them skiing down a mountain slope in the Bavarian Alps, while representing Sweden, Norway, or Denmark in the Olympics. Tall, shapely, beautiful, and blonde, unless they're from Texas, women around her just don't look like that. 

Now, I know where her daughters received their beauty from because Marianne was a knockout. Definitely, she didn't look 60-years-old. Had I not known her age, I would have guessed that she was in her late forties. She looked that good.

I ran down the front steps and gave her a hug. She felt firm in my arms and when I hugged her, her perfume sexually assaulted my senses. She smelled wonderful. She smelled like a woman and not like the girls that I had been bedding, Lynn, Jamie, and Gwen.

"I love your perfume," I said breaking the hug and taking a step back. "What fragrance is it?"

"Chanel," she said.

I knew for it to smell that good that it had to be expensive. It had been a while since I had experienced the sensation of Chanel. To my nose, there's not a better perfume in the world. Now that I think about it, with Marianne born 60 years ago, it had been a while since I've been with a woman who was born more than 25 years ago. Suddenly, I've become such a dirty, old man degenerate.

I carried her overnight bag inside and gave her a quick tour of the house. She kept eyeing me out of the corner of her eye. It was a curiously coy look of interest.

"What?" I checked my fly and looked down at myself to see if there was something wrong. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?" I chuckled a smile.

"Like what?"

Refined, properly poised, and educated, she even sounded like Dina Merrill, but she had the sexy movements of Angie Dickinson.

"You look at me like you're curious about me and unsure what to make of me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I was just trying to see what Lynn saw in you, I mean, why she'd want to be with a man much older."

"Do I look that terrible?" I said looking down at myself again.

"No, not at all," she laughed making me laugh with her. "Actually, you look quite good. Now I understand why my daughter would find you attractive and irresistible, actually. You're quite delightfully charming and fetching in a manly sort of way, much different than her Dad." She gave me another long look, this time more approving. "Being that Lynn was never close to her father, I feared she'd be looking for the Daddy she never had in dating you."

"Thank you, I think," I laughed away my awkwardness.

"You don't look 50," she said looking at me from head to toe.

"Actually, I'm not 50. I'm 49. I won't be 50 for a few months, yet."

"Well, you look 39," she said with a big smile.

"Thank you," I said beaming with her compliment. "You don't look 60."

"Actually, I'm not 60. I'm 59. I won't be 60 for a few months, yet."

"Touché," I said as we both shared a laugh. "You look 49."

"Oh, you're such a flirt, you bad boy," she said with a blush and touching my arm with her gloved hand.

Too busy noticing her, that's when I noticed them. She wore white gloves. I haven't seen a woman wear white gloves since Donna Reed of the Donna Reed Show and June Cleaver of Leave It To Beaver in the fifties and sixties. Where do you even buy those things? Creepy, scary, and erotic all at the same time. Suddenly, I imagined those white, gloved hands wrapped around my cock, as she stroked me to an erection, before she took me...stop it!

As if she was about to challenge me to a duel and slap me across the face with her glove, consumed with lust for her white gloved hand, I was transfixed watching her remove her white gloves, one, slow, sexy finger at a time. She put them in her purse, along with her vibrator and dildo, I imagined. I have to stop thinking of her like that about her. Christ, she's old enough to be my aunt or way older sister. More important than that, I needed to show some respect. She's Lynn and Gwen's mother. I can't go there. What's wrong with me?

She is very beautiful though and has a hot body for an old broad. Nearly my height, Marianne was tall, taller than both her daughters, but she wore high heels and her hair was made up higher than how her daughters wore their hair, flat to their heads. I figured without the heels and hair that she was the same height as them, 5'8" or 5'9" maybe. She was thin but shapely, a size 6 or 8. I can never tell with women, and she, judging by her side profile, was a full B cup, maybe even a small C cup, much like Lynn. She was a good looking woman, that is, for a senior citizen.

I laughed to myself suddenly having sexual thoughts of bedding Lynn and Gwen's elderly mom. That would just be wicked of me to do something like that, and, immediately, I erased the thought from my mind. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what she looked like beneath the dress, the slip, the bra, and the pantyhose. Being that she was from that era, I wondered if she wore nylons and a garter belt instead of pantyhose. Now that would be hot. Nah, other than strippers, no one wears sexy lingerie like that anymore. The erotic part of it was, instead of feeling older as I did with Gwen, I felt younger in Marianne's presence and I liked that feeling. 

"What can I get you, coffee, tea or—" me, I wanted to say, but didn't dare.

"Do you have any scotch? After that long drive, I need a drink."

"Scotch?" I gave her a surprised over my shoulder look. I had pegged her for a tea sipper and not a whiskey drinker. "Are you a scotch drinker?"

"Well, I'm a little fussy as to the brand of scotch that I prefer but—"

"I have some Glenlevit that I occasionally take a dram of when I'm alone and watching television late at night and just want to relax." For fear that she'd make a related comment and think me preoccupied with things in their 20's, I didn't dare tell her the age of the scotch. If only she knew that I had sex with Gwen, too, she'd probably flee from my house.

"Glenlevit is good."

"How do you take it?"

"Straight up with just a splash of water."

"Ah, a connoisseur." I smiled. "I take it the same way. Ice ruins the taste and the bouquet." I turned to get her a scotch talking as I walked away. "You can tell a true scotch drinker by how he or she takes it."

"I'd like to freshen up a bit first, before I relax with a drink. May I use the ladies room?

"Certainly. The ladies room is down the hall. The first door on your right," I said.

When she emerged from the bathroom, I poured her drink, splashed some water in it, and handed it to her. She took a long sip as if she needed it. Probably, she did after that marathon drive from Rochester, New York to Boston.

"Very smooth." She took another small sip. "Glenlevit eighteen?"

"Twenty-one."

"I'm impressed."

I waited for her to make a twenty-something-year-old comment, but she didn't. Obviously, she had more class than that to take a cheap shot at her host.

"Yeah, well, along the way, I tried many of them. I waffled back and forth between Glenlevit 12 and Glenfiddich 12, that is, until I discovered Glenlevit 18. There's a huge difference between the 12 and the 18 but a very subtle difference between the 18 and the 21. Yet, once you go from 12 to 18, you just can't go back to 12. I received this bottle as a gift. Most people can't taste the difference between 18 and 21 and if you can't than you can save some money by sticking with the 18, but I can. The 21 is lighter and is so much smooth that it's almost syrupy sweet."

I was talking too much and talking too much about scotch. She's going to think that I'm full of myself or worse, a drinker, even worse, a drunk, when I'm not any of those things.

"Well, I see you know your scotch, as well as your women."

Hmm, what did she mean by that? Maybe she's not as classy as I thought she was. I let her remark pass. I didn't want to start a game of tit for tat. Maybe she was referring to Lynn. I wondered if she knew about Gwen. Nah, Gwen would never have sexual pillow talk with her mother about me.

"Excuse me for a moment," I said.

I got up and went to the kitchen and took out the food that I had ready in the fridge, a plate of cheese and crackers and a plate of fruit and vegetables. Now, if Gwen and Jamie were still here, I'd be opening a bottle of bubbly and we'd be doing something erotic with the fruit and vegetable plate. Suddenly, I imagined Marianne lying on my dining room table naked but for a couple of Ritz crackers on her nipples with thick celery stalks covering her pussy. I imagined her covering my cock with whipped cream, as she... Stop it! What the Hell is wrong with me?

Maybe because I was nervous being there with my never to be mother, I found myself looking at her legs, especially every time she crossed them. She had nice legs and I was horny. I was always horny. I hadn't had sex since Jamie left Sunday night and there sitting across from me was some fresh meat, albeit aged a bit, but still looking tender rather than tough. 

Her legs were shaped much like Gwen's and Lynn's legs, only older and, but for the pantyhose, they looked the same. Damn, I hate pantyhose. Probably some gay fashion designer, but whoever invented pantyhose must hate heterosexual men. I wish she had worn just panties beneath her short skirt. If she just worn panties beneath that short skirt, she'd have flashed me by now, in the way her daughter Gwen did. Stop it! Jesus! What the Hell is wrong with me? She's old enough to be my...babysitter. Actually, I wouldn't mind Marianne babysitting me.

As soon as I thought the word babysitter, I thought of Kathy Conroy who used to baby sit for my daughters. I'll never forget giving her a ride home that snowy, cold night. We made out in the front seat of my car. Feeling her tits, sucking her nipples, and sticking my horny hand up her short skirt and down her panties, I made it all the way to third base, before she swatted my hand away. Instead of fucking me in the backseat of my car, she gave me a hand job and then a blowjob.

She couldn't get me off with her hand because it was so cold in the car and her hand was like ice, even with the heater on in the car, it was still freezing. Then, when she started sucking me, as I fingered her nipples, I exploded in her mouth, just as her front porch light went on and her father came out to stand on the porch, no doubt, wondering where his daughter was. If only he knew his daughter was busy blowing me, but with her head down and with me slouched down in the seat, he didn't see us. We were parked just down the street and I waited from him to go back inside, before I started my car and dropped off his daughter. Boy that was close.

Let's see, if I do the math, I was 30-years-old and Kathy was 20-years-old. Magically, there's that 10 year age difference, only the other way around, with her younger and me older. Suddenly, that ten years didn't seem too much of a hang up for me or for her back then. So, why should it bother me now, when it's reversed with me being younger than Marianne this time instead of me being older than her? Maybe I'll just think of Marianne as my babysitter babysitting for me.

Then she crossed her legs again, only this time more slowly and more deliberately. Was she purposely trying to flash me? Perhaps that first scotch went straight to her head. Then, there, as if it was a 60 mph curve ball, instead of a 100 mph fastball thrown right down the middle of home plate, I saw the top of her nylons, the clip of her garter belt, and the triangular patch of bright white panty. Oh, Baby, Mommy is an erotic, sexy bitch.

Suddenly, my cock grew to my new appreciation of her sexy lingerie and to her flashing me. Then, with the thought of her white gloves that lay hidden in her purse, I wanted her to don her sexy white gloves again. Suddenly, between her gloves and her sexy lingerie, I saw her in a new light. Hello, sexy MILF of a grandma. Only, after Lynn lost her life and our baby, she wasn't a grandmother, yet. I just hoped that Gwen was on the pill. I hope I didn't make that crazy bitch pregnant. I couldn't take a steady sexual diet of Gwen.

Now all that I could think about is Marianne flashing me her panty. Damn, I haven't seen a garter belt since the sixties. I didn't even know they still made them. She must have sent away special and ordered it from Frederick's of Hollywood, along with those white gloves. I couldn't help but wonder if she wore her lingerie especially for me. In the way that Lynn came to my room that first night to ask if she could sleep with me and in the way that Gwen allowed me to strip her naked, this evening may get interesting after all.

"May I freshen your drink?"

"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you," she said handing me the glass.

Preoccupied with the white gloves, when I saw her naked hand, I wished she was still wearing those damn, sexy gloves. I'd love to fill her gloved hand with all of me. Gees, that's enough. I need to stop thinking that way about Lynn's mother.

We sat there talking while sipping our scotches, eating cheese and crackers, and fruits and vegetables. It was getting late after 1:00 am and Marianne was working on her third scotch, a double. Actually, they were all doubles and she suddenly looked like she was feeling the effects of the drinks. Oh, shit that 21-year-old scotch has a way of sneaking up on you. Suddenly, I remembered Gwen not being able to hold her alcohol. Now, watching Marianne begin to nod off, I know where Gwen got her inability to handle her liquor.

"C'mon, let's get you off to bed," I said standing.

As soon as I said the words, C'mon, let's get you off...I thought about getting her off by masturbating her, while in bed. Stop it! I needed to focus my thoughts elsewhere. I needed to act the gentleman. This is the mother of my beloved Lynn and that wild and crazy Gwen.

"I'm not tired, yet," she said suddenly appearing wide awake. "I'm having a relaxing time talking to you." She hadn't said anything in the last ten minutes. She was nodding off. "Let's have one for the road, shall we?"

"Okay, sure." I made her a fresh drink, a small one this time and, in just a few minutes, I watched her down the last of it.

I sat in my favorite catbird seat, where I prefer sitting, when entertaining an attractive woman wearing a short skirt, while hoping she'll flash me her panty. She sat across from me on the soft sofa and I sat higher up in my Queen Anne chair. If Marianne was showing anything, I'd see it from this angle. Not one to disappoint me, towards the end of the last drink, she had become a bit careless about the arrangement of her skirt and the way that she was sitting. No longer sitting like a lady with her knees cemented closed, she was sitting with her knees apart enough to give me a continual view of her bright, white panty. Hello sexy Mama.

Especially now that her above the knee length skirt had risen to the middle of her thighs, as if she was an exhibitionist in the way that her daughter Gwen was, she was giving me a real voyeur's between her legs show of herself. Continually, she flashed me her white panty and with the scotch weaving its magic on me, too, if she wasn't shy about showing, I wasn't shy about looking. I stared at her exposed crotch, while wondering what she'd look like without her clothes and what she'd taste like with her lying on her back and her legs spread and draped down my shoulders.

It was all so very erotic seeing flashes of her nylon and garter that culminated in me seeing her bright, white panty and that further rewarded me with the display of her camel toed crotch. Between the alcohol and my innate horniness, she was turning me on a bit. Imagining that I was there with Dina Merrill and Angie Dickinson combined as one, I so wanted to sit next to her on the couch and play tongue hockey with her, while running my hand over her proud bra covered tits, before slowly running my hand down her slim waistline to the far reaches of her, where no man has touched her in years, no doubt.

With one hand feeling her breasts while fingering her nipples through her blouse and bra, I imagined running my meaty palm down and up her skirt to her panties. I imagined my long, experienced fingers pushing the edge of her panties out of the way for me to explore and deftly part her pussy lips with my probing fingertips. Stop it! Stop it, now. This is crazy. 

Now, almost 2:00 am it was so very late and she was slouching again.

"You need some rest, Marianne. C'mon, let's put you to bed."

"Okay," she said now with her legs fully spread, while trying to stand up from the softness of the sofa.

"Let me give you a hand," I said with a devious smile.

After enjoying more of her panty show for a few seconds, I stood and reached beneath her arms to help her up, while feeling both sides of her bra covered breasts. Being that she was a bit drunk, figuring she wouldn't notice or think it was an accident with me being a little tipsy, too, if she did notice, I made sure that my palms brushed by the front of her bra hoping to feel her nipples, as I lifted her and I did. Either she was cold or sexually aroused by purposely having flashed me her panties, but her nipples were already erect. She had nice knockers and it felt good to feel tits again, even if it was bra clad, elderly tits.




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 18



Who am I kidding? I'm not any spring chicken and, especially with the fact that she's well preserved, she's not that much older than me. A ten year age difference is nothing today, not like it was years ago. No one would even raise an eyebrow if a man was to have sexual relations with an older woman. Only, a huge barrier, she was Lynn and Gwen's mother. Now, that was a real issue bordering on an incestuous dilemma, but not one that I haven't already bridged by sleeping with sisters, her daughters.

With my arm around her and my hand in constant contact with the side of her breast during the slow inebriated walk down the hall, I helped her to the guest bedroom and sat her on the bed. As if she was a drunken sailor sitting on his bunk, her legs were now wide open. Slowly, I removed my hands away from beneath her arms, while feeling the sides of her breasts, as I withdrew them. She sat there dazed and looking dizzy and disoriented. Nonetheless, she was looking quite kissable and I so wanted to kiss her. Missing Lynn and Gwen's kisses, I was curious if mother kissed as well as did her daughters.

"Are you going to be okay, Marianne?"

"Fine, I'm fine," she said slurring her words with a wave of her hand at me, while unbuttoning her blouse.

Frozen in place and standing in the room only two feet from her bed, she shocked me, when she started undressing. Not wanting to miss her unexpected strip tease show, I couldn't leave. Instead, I watched her undress. Now, with her blouse unbuttoned and open, I stared at the sight of her cleavage and white, lace bra. She undressed herself, as if I wasn't even there or if we were already lovers. Then, I remembered what Lynn said about her family, that they were not shy about nudity and that they all could have been nudists. Hello Mommy.

I watched her fumble trying to find the zipper on her skirt. I couldn't wait to see her panties and garter belt. She stood with her blouse gaping open exposing her white lacy bra and turned side to side was still unable to find her zipper to her skirt. I watched her hand feel each side of her before feeling the back of her.

"For the life of me, Freddie, I can't seem to find my zipper," she said throwing up her hands and laughing. "Can you lend me a hand?"

I approached her and squatted down to find her zipper. She leaned down on me as if I was giant pillow, she took me up in a big bear hug. I could feel her bra covered breasts on my back and they felt erotically wonderful. I so wanted to stand and feel her tits. I found her zipper and unzipped unbuttoned her skirt. She stood with my help and, with my feeling the sides of her tits again, allowed her skirt to fall to the floor. 

"Oops," she said laughing as she fell back on the bed.

There she was in her half slip with her blouse splayed open. Just as Lynn used to do to me, every time I heard it, her laugh was intoxicating and I laughed with her until the both of us laughed hysterically.

"You're going to have to get me out of these clothes," she said. "Because I think I'm a little too tipsy," she said with a hiccup.

She looked up at me with the same sexy smile that Lynn used to give me. Suddenly feeling as if Lynn was back in my life, albeit a much older version, I wanted to lean down and kiss her, while imagining that I was kissing Lynn, her 25-year-old daughter. I stepped closer to her with the thoughts of stripping her naked, as I did with Jamie and Gwen.

"Okay," I said giving her a hand.

"You have to promise not to look," she said scolding me by waving her finger in my face. "I don't want the both of us being uncomfortably embarrassed tomorrow morning."

I don't mind being uncomfortably embarrassed for the opportunity to see you naked, I wanted to say but didn't.

"I'll turn off the light," I said, instead, turning to hit the switch to extinguish the light.

"No," she said with a laugh. "If you turn off the light, how am I supposed to know that you are not peeking? 

"You have a good point there," I said stepping closer to her and sitting on the bed, while she stood in front of me. Her bra clad breasts were right there. With the sweet smell of her Chanel perfume making me want her, I helped her off with her blouse. I just wanted to bury my face between her breasts. Instead, I reached for the waistband of her half slip and slowly lowered it, as if I was unwrapping a precious gift.

"Besides, after my baby died, I can't bear the dark anymore," she said beginning to cry.

"I'm so sorry, Marianne," I said.

I stop undressing her to stand to hold her and hug her. She felt good in my arms as good as Lynn and Gwen felt. Delirious by the fragrance of her perfume, I just wanted to kiss her, while feeling her everywhere, but I was afraid.

"Now, close your eyes," she said laughing. "I don't want you seeing me in my panty, after you remove my slip."

I've already seen your panty, I wanted to say, but I didn't dare say that. Instead, I closed my eyes and slid her half slip down and off. My cock stiffened to the feel of my fingers touching her bare thigh. I felt her garter and nylons as I slid off her slip. Still holding her, I had one hand on the back of her panty. With a visual of her etched in my mind, I so wanted to see her standing there in her bra, panty, garter, and nylons. Only, afraid I'd ruin her impromptu striptease show, I didn't dare open my eyes at this point. Hoping she'd want me to strip her naked, I didn't want to prematurely stop her from wanting me to help her undress. I needed to see her naked so that later I could return to my room and masturbate over the naked sight of her.

"Okay, now remove my bra, please," she said. I couldn't help but imagine hearing Dina Merrill voice asking me to remove her bra, while hoping to see breasts that looked like Angie Dickinson's breasts. "Wait, are your eyes closed?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. I'm ready if you are."

She sat on the bed with her back to me. As if a teenager with his date at a drive-in movie, I reached up and fumbled with the hooks of her bra. I hate unhooking bras. I was never any good at getting them unhooked and it seemed twice as difficult with my eyes closed.

There I was leaning against her and feeling her soft skin, while taking in the fragrance of her Chanel perfume when, finally, I unsnapped it. Holding her bra in place, afraid to remove my hands, I opened my eyes a crack while watching her slide the bra straps from her shoulders. Then, as if she was a stripper, as if she was Angie Dickinson reincarnated, holding her bra in place with the cups covering her breasts, while exposing more of the tops of her breasts to me, she turned to look at me. She gave me a sexy look, when she saw that I was looking.

"Naughty boy. Shame on you. No peeking."

I snapped shut my eyes, but it took all the self-control that I possessed not to open my eyes at that point and stare. She made me feel as if she was my teacher, babysitter, older sister, aunt, or mother scolding me for wanting to sneak a peek of her tits.

"Now, my garters, but I'm afraid you'll have to open your eyes to see what you are doing."

I didn't wait for a second invitation and opened my eyes. She had already removed her bra, when my eyes were still closed, but covered her tits with her hands. Standing there topless but for her hands cupping her breasts, there she was in white panties, garter belt, and nylons. I could see her dark patch of pubic hair beneath the panty. With her making me so horny with this slow striptease, I so wanted to fall between her legs and lick her pussy through her panty.

Putting her foot between my legs, I lifted her leg and with one hand holding her leg and the other hand unhooking the snap, I took my sweet time undoing her garters and sliding off her nylon. Her legs felt so good in my hands. She had soft skin. When my horny hands touched her foot and, when I slid off her other nylon, my fingers tickled her foot, she giggled as if she was a little girl.

"Are you ticklish?" I looked at her with a devilish grin.

"Don't you dare tickle me. That's not fair," she said still hiding her breasts beneath her hands. "Stop it. No, please, don't."

I started tickling her feet and she was rolling around the bed laughing. Then, when I tickled her waist, she let go of her tits to grab my hands to stop me from tickling her. There they were, my patience rewarded, I hit the jackpot with the sight of her big breasts. Her tits were in plain sight for my ogling. Definitely a full C cup, she had beautiful tits and this sudden playful attentiveness from me must have aroused her sexually because her nipples were fully erect.

What is it with tits? They appear never to age. Unless breasts are really old, they always look so young. Her tits looked just like Lynn's tits, albeit not as proud. Even though she was sixty-years-old, 59-years-old actually, she looked like she had young tits.

I wanted to hold her tits in the palm of my hand and feel and caress her tits, while running the palm of my hand across her nipples. I so wanted to lean down and take her nipples in my mouth. I really wanted to suck her tits, while cupping her pussy through her panty. I couldn't stop staring at how beautiful and desirable she looked topless. Then, when I reached for her panties and she stopped me.

"I think that I can remove my own panties, thank you very much, Freddie. You've been a big help. Thank you."

"Are you sure?" I said not taking no for an answer, as I gradually continued inching them down. 

"You're such a fresh boy. You've already seen my tits and now you're intent on seeing my pussy, are you not?"

A rhetorical question that I didn't dare answer, it turned me on to hear her say tits and pussy. Imagining she was my teacher, babysitter, older sister, aunt, or mother, my penis pulsated at the thought of her talking dirty to me in bed. I continued rolling down her panties until the top of her pubic hair was exposed and then just a little further until all of her pussy was revealed to my horny eyes.

Just as I had stripped Gwen, I had just stripped Lynn's mother. I looked up from her pussy and tits to look at her face. Looking at me wide eyed, she was flushed and she was breathing faster. Looking down at my horny hand, she watched me slowly removing her panties. With her hands by her sides and her tits still uncovered, I stared at her tits and then at her pussy again. With one quick pull, she was naked.

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 19



Chapter 19

Freddie has sex with Dina Merrill and Angie Dickinson combined.

I was so horny and I had such an erection. I wanted to fuck her so bad. I wanted to lean down and kiss her and make out with her. I wanted to screw her like she has never been screwed before. I wanted to eat her while finger fucking her. Instead, now that I've seen Lynn's and Gwen's mom naked, I stood to leave. Somehow, with my erection standing straight out in my pants, I managed to stand.

"Well, good night."

Who said that? I couldn't believe that I was telling this naked, attractive, albeit older woman good night.

"Oh, no you don't Buster," she said. "What's fair for the goose is fair for the gander."

"What?"

"I'm standing here naked, big boy. You've seen me in my birthday suit," she said falling back on the bed and raising her arms and spreading her legs. "You've seen my tits, my ass, and my pussy," she said with her hands outstretched and up over her head. "Only my husband has had the pleasure of seeing me naked." She looked down at the obvious bulge in my pants. "Now, it's my turn to undress you and to see what you look like without clothes." She laughed a dirty, sexy laugh, "I want to see what my Lynn got to see."

I didn't dare tell her that both Jamie and Gwen got to see my cock, too. Then, she'd really think me perverted. Definitely thinking that I was only into younger women, which I was, she'd shut me out by closing her legs. Only, too horny not to throw her a bang, I wanted to accept her and not rebuff her.

"Marianne, really, this has gone far enough. This is embarrassing for me," I said lying. "You're Lynn's mother. You're going to regret this in the morning."

"I'll regret it more if I don't get to see you naked," she said with a dirty laugh, while staring at the bulge my cock made in my pants. "And if I don't get to see your cock."

With every dirty word she uttered, first tits, then ass, then pussy, and now cock, she was driving me wild with desire for her. Maybe it was the alcohol; maybe because she was there naked before me, and maybe it was a little because she reminded me so much of Lynn, I found it impossible to resist her and not to comply with her request to strip naked. 

For someone who looked like her, who looked like Dina Merrill, and who had a body like Angie Dickinson had, for her to say tits, ass, pussy, and cock was erotically exciting. With that, she forced herself up and grabbed me by my waistband. Immediately, she had my t-shirt pulled up over my face and I felt her fingers unbuckling and unbuttoning my pants. By the time I removed my t-shirt, she had my pants unzipped and half-way down my thighs exposing my boxers.

"I figured you for briefs," she said with a laugh, while feeling my cock through my underwear.

I stepped out of my pants.

"There, satisfied, now? It's late. I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Oh, no you don't," she said reaching out for me.

Again, she pulled me forward by the waistband of my shorts and I fell forward on top of her. Suddenly, I felt her hand move down and fumble around. She reached in my boxer shorts and grabbed my erection. Lynn's Mom had her hand around my cock. Gwen's Mom was stroking my erection. Suddenly, I imagined how hot this would have been if she was my mother.

"Oh, you are a big boy. Now, I really know why my Lynn was attracted to you," she said running her fingertips across the head of my prick.

Again, I managed to stand and again she pulled me forward by my waistband only, this time, in one quick movement she had my boxers down around my knees. I fell forward and she was there waiting for me. In a quick movement, she slid her body down and took my cock in her mouth. Oh, my God, Lynn and Gwen's mom was blowing me. The warm wetness of her mouth felt incredible. I couldn't help but think that I was getting a blowjob from Dina Merrill. I couldn't believe that Lynn and Gwen's mother was giving me a blowjob. Having not even kissed her, never have I had my cock in a woman's mouth before kissing her first. This was a first.

She was devouring my cock, licking and sucking me, while moving her head back and forth. She was acting as if she hadn't had a cock in her mouth in years. I could feel her tongue twirling around the head of my prick as she sucked me, licked me, and stroked me with her hand. Certainly, it wasn't as good of a blowjob as the ones that Lynn, Jamie, and Gwen gave me. For an old broad, she was adept at sucking cock.

She removed me from her mouth, slid her body back up, and we French kissed. This time, no longer feigning resistance, it was mutual. She had pushed my buttons and I was ready to do her. I was feeling her everywhere. I felt her tits, fingered her nipples, felt her ass, and had my hand between her legs cupping her pussy, while fingering her clit and finger fucking her. Not as wet as her daughters, she was still wet enough for me to enter her.

"Fuck me, Freddie. Slam your big cock inside of me," she whispered in my ear. "I want to feel your big, hard cock in my warm, wet pussy."

Oh, geez, she talks dirty. Obviously Lynn took after her mother. Well, that's it for me. With a naked, old broad on my guestroom bed and talking dirty to me, this is too much, a dream come true, and sex with her is inevitable.

"Oh, Marianne, baby, I can't wait to stuff my big cock in your pussy," I said wanting to be a participating contestant in her game of dirty, pillow talk.

Even though she was already wet, I figured she may have a problem with dryness so I fell between her legs. Maybe she's on hormone supplements, but I didn't see a problem with her being aroused. Still, since I was down there already, I was curious to know what her pussy tasted like, especially after having already eaten Lynn and Gwen's pussy. Licking and licking her, while fingering her, unable to tell the difference, she tasted the same as her daughters. Being that her pussy tasted like both her daughter, I pretended I was eating Lynn, instead of Gwen. After only a few minutes she reached down for me.

"Fuck me, Freddie," she said again. "I want to feel your big, hard cock in my warm, wet pussy."

"Oh, yeah, baby talk dirty to me. You have no idea how much you're turning me on with your dirty talk."

She spread her legs and I mounted her. I felt her hand reach for my cock and direct it inside her pussy. She started humping me and I humped her back until we had a regular slow rhythm going that went faster as our sexual desire grew for one another. My cock was so hard and I was so horny. I continued fucking her for about fifteen minutes until I felt her stiffen beneath me. She cam quietly. Not even realizing she had an orgasm, it was weird. Maybe her generation didn't scream, but her daughters surely did, especially Gwen. Gwen was a real screamer, much like Jamie.

Somehow, I managed to coax her to my bed where I was more comfortable. Sometime during the early morning, we had sex again. She was insatiable. Then, that morning, she gave me the pleasure of my fantasy. 

I was having this dream that I was getting this wonderful blowjob. I dreamt that a beautiful woman was sucking my cock. When I opened my eyes and looked down finally, Marianne was kneeling between my legs on the bed sucking my cock. Immediately, I reached out for her hanging tits. I love feeling hanging tits, while getting a blowjob. I love feeling the weight of them in the palm of my hand as my fingers explore her nipples. There's nothing like the feel of hanging tits, especially when the woman is blowing me.

I thought of Lynn sucking my cock. I thought of Jamie sucking my cock. I thought of Gwen sucking my cock. Now, I thought of Lynn and Gwen's mother sucking my cock. What could only eclipse Marianne blowing me is if she were my mother, but I never had a chance to get that far with Lynn. With all of those sexy thoughts in my mind, as soon as I cupped Marianne's big tits and fingered her erect nipples, I exploded. I couldn't believe that I just ejaculated in Marianne's mouth. When she felt me cumming, she took me deeper in her mouth and milked me more by applying more pressure with her lips while swirling her tongue around the head of my cock. She swallowed all of my cum and licked me clean afterwards. She gave me an incredible blowjob.

We lay there silently for some time holding one another. It felt different holding her than it did holding Lynn, Jamie or Gwen. She felt more like the fuzzy relaxed feeling that I get when I'm home alone sipping fine cognac whereas with the others, the younger women constantly talked at me fast, so fast that I had to focus to understand what it was they said. Besides, they said things from their generation that I didn't understand, didn't care about, and/or didn't connect with anyway. Having sex with someone half my age made me feel as if I was having a beer at a nightclub that played blaring music in the background and while trying to hold a conversation. Instead with Marianne, as homey comfortable as I was sexually excited, I felt as if I just had sex with my teacher, babysitter, aunt, or mother.

I had my arm around her with my hand in constant contact with her breast. I love tits and I loved her tits. She had wonderful tits and for a woman her age, surprisingly, they still felt firm and barely sagged. She had one hand on my chest playing with my chest hair, with her other hand around my cock. Her warm hand felt good around my cock. Lightly, she stroked me while running her finger tips over the head of my cock and switching to cup my balls with her palm. Then, she spoke.

"You are the only man besides my husband that I ever gave oral sex."

After what Jamie told me about her being a cougar and having had sex with younger men, I wondered if she was telling me the truth. Maybe she was telling the truth. Why would she lie?

"Really? Wow," I said not sure how to answer that.

I could have said congratulations, you are the 1,000th woman who has given me a blowjob, but somehow that wouldn't have gone over the same way. Suddenly, I had an image of balloons and confetti falling from the ceiling with an announcer holding a microphone and a sexy girl dressed in costume holding a banner that read, Congratulations on your 1,000th Blowjob.

"Before you were married, you never gave your boyfriend a blowjob."

"Good girls didn't suck cock back then."

"Good girls didn't suck cock? Of course they did, that's why they were deemed good girls," I said with a laugh.

Hearing Marianne saying cock was erotic. As if she was a Wellesley woman in the way of Diane Sawyer, she even enunciated her words like Dina Merrill. I suddenly pictured Dina Merrill saying cock only it was Marianne who said cock. I suddenly imagined Diane Sawyer giving me a blowjob. With her spitting out the nightly news so fast, I wondered if she swallowed.

"Did you at least give your old boyfriends a hand job?"

"I may have done that to a boyfriend or two when we went to the drive-in movie." 

Suddenly, I had an image of Marianne looking much like Lynn when she was younger, unzipping some horny, pimply faced teenager, taking out his cock and clumsily giving him a hand job. I imagined him spurting cum all over her little, white gloved hand and she reaching in her purse to grab a tissue. It's funny the images I get when someone else is talking. Okay, now, we're talking dirty pillow talk. This is getting interesting.

"So, tell me, I'm curious, when you were at the drive-in movie, did you let them feel your tits?"

Again, I had the image of the pimply faced kid reaching his hand to her breast as he's kissing her, while hoping to score second base and feel some breast.

"Yes, of course, lots of boys felt my tits." She blushed and smiled. "I don't mean that how it sounded," she blushed again.

It's been a long time since I've been with a woman who blushed. Susan Riley, one of my first girlfriends, comes to mind after the first time she saw my cock, when I pulled it out and put it in her hand thirty years ago. 

We were so young, barely nineteen. She blushed the entire time she held my cock. She sat there staring at it and never removing her hand and not even stroking me. She didn't know what to do, I guess. My cock was the first cock she ever held. I had to put my hand around her hand to show her how to stroke me. When I ejaculated, finally, and shot a wad of cum on her sweater, she screamed.

"Even though I was fairly popular and it was common for young men to try and feel a girl's breast, when we were dating. there weren't a lot of young men waiting in line to feel my breasts. Back then, busy with school, I had a reputation to keep, which the woman of today no longer care what reputation they have or don't have. They care more about their credit score than they do about their reputation. Back then, it was a game and a contest to score with a girl by feeling her breast and it was our responsibility to protect our reputation by not allowing our dates to get beyond first or second base, at least, until we were dating steadily and/or engaged, married even."

As soon as she said dating steadily, I thought of going steady. Boy that brought back memories of giving my best girl my high school ring.

"You must understand," she said. "My father didn't allow me to date until I was 18-years-old. It wasn't the way it is now then with morals so loose. Approved by my family, I was a virgin, when I married John, my one and only husband."

I couldn't believe I was talking sex with Lynn's Mom. Excitingly erotic, being with her naked, after we just had sex was surreal.

"Did you let them take your tits out and suck your nipples?"

"I don't know, Freddie," she said with a chuckle, "It was so long ago but, yes, I suppose. Remembering back, I'm quite sure that one or two of the young men who I took a fancy to had the good fortunate of sucking my tits, especially when I was attending college."

Again, I had the image of that pimply faced kid feeling Marianne's naked tits and fingering her nipples, before sucking her them.

"Now, can we stop this talk? It's a bit disturbing for me to tell you so many personal and private thoughts."

Geez, just when I was getting to the good part. I was just about to ask her about if she allowed any boys to touch her pussy and get to third base. Funny how a woman who just sucked my cock. allowed me to cum in her mouth, and swallowed was uncomfortable sharing her personal and private thoughts.

"Yeah, sure, I can get carried away a bit. Dirty, pillow talk is a turn on for me."

We got quiet all of a sudden. There was an uncomfortable awkwardness in the way that happens, when you awaken sober after doing something stupid when drunk. I really wanted to continue with the dirty, pillow talk. Now, I didn't know what the Hell to say? So, how about those Red Sox? Nah, that wouldn't work, besides, she's from New York and if she follows baseball, she's a Yankees fan, no doubt. Then, she returned to the subject of blowjobs and blurted out this gem.

"You're the first man, including my husband who ever ejaculated in my mouth." She looked at me. "That was the first time that I ever tasted sperm and the first time that I swallowed."

Oh, geez, does this mean that we are engaged? At first, she made me uncomfortable by saying that. To me, it was no big deal cumming in a woman's mouth. Sperm? Only a 60-year-old woman would call cum sperm. Yet, when she said that I was the first man to cum in her mouth, it excited me and, for good measure, I wanted to cum in her mouth again.

For me, it was expected. I would have been more surprised and certainly more disappointed if she didn't want me to cum in her mouth and instead asked me to cum on her tits. Today, cumming on a woman's tits is like kissing your sister. I'm glad she made an exception to her rule of not cumming in her mouth. Did she want me to feel indebted to her or was she telling me that I was special, special enough that when her husband kicked off, I was next on her list of potential husbands. Boy, now, that would be awkward being Gwen's stepdad. I suddenly got an image of me parenting Gwen.

'Gwen, did you brush your teeth and tongue after your blew your boyfriend, after he ejaculated in your mouth, and after you tossed your girlfriend's salad?'

'Yes, stepfather.'

Suddenly, I had this image of bending Gwen over my knee after she had been bad, very bad, lifting up her skirt, pulling down her panty, and spanking her. Yet, I already did that.

'Harder,' I imagined her saying.

I looked at her shocked that not only was I the second man she has ever blown, but that I'm the first man who ever ejaculated in her mouth and she swallowed. She could have fooled me. She was so good at it. A natural born cocksucker, instinctively, she did everything right. The swirling action with her tongue, the feel of her lips and the pressure she applied on my cock, along with the feeling of my cock in her mouth was Heavenly. Even when thinking about Diane Sawyer blowing me, I couldn't have asked for a better blowjob.

Reality quickly returned me to what she said about me being not only the first man besides her husband that she has ever blown but also the first man she has allowed to cum in her mouth.

"Really? I'm the first man who every ejaculated in your mouth?"

"Yeah," she said looking over at me, "really. I've never tasted cum before."

"After all the years you've been married, I can't believe your husband never ejaculated in your mouth? I just find that so hard to believe that he wouldn't want you to do that and you refusing him."

"Oh, no, never. I never refused him. I wanted to suck his cock only he never allowed me to suck his cock" she said, "he's a bit old fashioned when it comes to sex." She looked away from me. "He thought that too much of a dirty thing to do with his wife's mouth, the mother of his children." She smiled. "He said blowjobs are what prostitutes do and not wives."

"So, he's been with prostitutes?"

"My husband?" She looked at me shocked that I would ask such a thing and then with a perplexed look on her face, as if she was wondering about it for the first time, she said, "Oh, no, at least, I certainly hope not."

"I don't think that I've ever been with a woman who didn't allow me to cum in her mouth. I've been with a couple of women who didn't swallow and one who spit it out all over me. That was quite a surprised mess, but they all swallowed."

"Well, I'm from a different time where good girls didn't give blowjobs and good girls never allowed a man to cum in her mouths."

"It makes me glad that I wasn't born back then," I said with a laugh.

She fell quiet again before volunteering more information about her personal sex life with her husband.

"John hasn't been able to get an erection for some years now." She looked at me. "He's 69, much older than me, and he can't take Viagra because of his heart condition." 

"That's too bad," I said. "Viagra is a miracle drug, I hear," I said. "I've never used it myself," I said lying. Had it not been for Viagra, I never could have satisfied Lynn, Jamie, Lynn and Jamie, Gwen, Jamie and Gwen, and now Marianne.

Never letting go of my cock, the only time she removed her hand from my cock was to switch hands from holding it with her left hand to holding it with her right hand. She fondled my cock as we talked and it felt wonderful.

"It's been a long time since I had a cock in my hand," she said looking down at my stiffening prick, "and longer since I have had a hard cock in my hand," she said with a laugh. She removed her hand from my cock to turn my head and we kissed. "You are a wonderful lover. I wanted to give you pleasure as your reward for giving me so much pleasure."

Different from the younger women that I've recently had sex with, I found it erotic to be intimate with an older woman. She was refreshingly different. More appreciative of all the attention that I paid her, she was gentler and less athletic. Yet, what she lacked in stamina she made up for in passion. Much like me in that regard, perhaps she figured, that I may be the last person she may be intimate with for the rest of her life. 




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 19



It felt good knowing that I could take my time with her and enjoy and remain longer in the moment of the afterglow with the help of a hug, a kiss, and a cuddle in-between the sexual intercourse. I didn't feel pressured need to perform, as I did with younger women.

When I was with Lynn, Jamie, and Gwen, I was always trying to prove that I could still give them a good fuck, as good if not better than their younger lovers. I had nothing to prove with Marianne. A refined woman, in the way of an expensive, French wine of superior vintage that begged the drinker to sip and savor, instead of a bottle of cheap Champagne that had been shaken and popped its cork prematurely in a quick gush and guzzled, she was a quality bed partner.

Still, she was more lady like than were the younger women and I dared not take liberties that I would have not thought twice about taking with Lynn, Jamie or Gwen. Such as, never would I walk up behind her and grope her ass or grab her tits. She'd take it as a violation, as opposed to the younger women taking it as a playful reaction. Sexual games that I'd ordinarily play with my younger lovers, I imagined were of no interest and served no purpose to her. On the other hand, I felt that my conversation with her was guarded. I repressed more thoughts than I verbalized for fear of insulting her. I had no such fear of that with Lynn, Jamie or Gwen. Short of calling them whores, which I'd never do, there was not much else that I couldn't say to them.

I realized that even though it was fun having sex with Marianne, just as it was with her daughter Gwen, I wouldn't want a steady diet of either of them. After a while, I'd be bored, sexually frustrated, and be looking for hotter and younger action, in the case of Marianne, and older action in the case of Gwen and Jamie. As expected, I began getting a little melancholy thinking about the end of the weekend when she was expected to leave and I was alone again. I've grown to hate being alone. I truly need a woman in my life. I held her closer until she left me to go to the bathroom. 

After a while, I heard the shower running and decided to do something totally unexpected. Being that she was leaving and, no doubt, I'd never see her again, especially naked, I wanted to shock her. I was curious to see her reaction. When I opened the bathroom door, instinctively, Marianne covered herself with her hands and arms. I laughed at her modesty and she did, too.

Even though I saw her naked in bed with me, it is different to see her standing there in the shower naked. She looked good. She looked really good. Her stomach was toned and flat but for a very small, almost indistinguishable pot belly and her curves were more womanly. I noticed that she had some gray pubic hair.

"Well, I'm not sure why I did that, cover myself like that," she said with an uncomfortable laugh. "You've already seen every bit of me up close and personal."

I took the soap from her and started soaping her up. As I had done with Gwen. I paid special attention to her dirty parts, her tits, ass, and pussy.

"You're dirty, so very dirty," I said and she laughed. "You require a good scrubbing to get clean."

Hey, I was having a good time with my hand and the soap and she was getting nice and clean at the same time. The way that I looked at it, it was a win/win situation, rub a dub, dub, Freddie is rubbing Marianne in the tub. Besides, she seemed to enjoy the attention that her naked body received from my skilled hands and fingers. Then, it was her turn.

"My cock is so very dirty, yes, very dirty indeed."

I handed her the soap and she lathered me up real good paying special attention to my cock, ass, and balls. It felt good to have her soap up my cock. It was erotic when she gently cupped my balls washing them and as soon as she lathered up my ass crack, I thought of Gwen on her knees in the shower tossing my salad. I could just imagine the look on her face if I asked Marianne, a Dina Merrill clone, to toss my salad? Boy if she did, that would start up a whole new conversation. I could hear her say, you are the first man' salad I ever tossed. Still, I liked the feeling of her slippery hand stroking my cock in the shower while we kissed and as I felt her tits and fondled her nipples.

When we finished showering we returned to the bedroom to get dressed. I watched her put on her panties and then her bra. I could tell that she was not accustomed to dressing in front of her husband, because she turned her back to me as she dressed. It was funny the difference in generations. Just as Gwen's generation explored sex without feeling guilty, Marianne's generation was hung up on nudity, and that made me curious about the comment that Lynn made that her entire family could have been nudist. Now, I figured she must have been talking about herself and her sister and surely not her mother. Perhaps, her mother gave them the impression of being more open with her nudity, so as to not give them sexual hang-ups, as her generation surely had.

Still, this sudden shyness about her nudity was curious. After being sexually intimate with one another, she should feel more comfortable with me by now, I'd think. She did allow me to soap her up real good without trying to stop me. I touched her everywhere over and again. That was fun and that was hot and she appeared to have enjoyed the physical attention. Maybe having sexual relations broke down the barrier of how a nudist otherwise feels about her body and maybe she felt uncomfortable, a rather weird phenomenon. 

Maybe having been intimate with one another was what we both needed to get through the loss of Lynn. Maybe, that would explain why she is suddenly a bit unnerved for me to see her naked, now that she's sober and not drunk. I'd think that it would have been the opposite and that she'd have no inhibitions left. Who knows, it doesn't matter really, it's just idle thoughts about the sexual behavior of people that I will never understand, but will always contemplate.

Besides, this would probably be the last time that I ever saw her. My contact with her was through her daughter Lynn and now with Lynn dead, there was no reason for her to see me again. The only reason why she made this pilgrimage from Rochester to Massachusetts was because she was curious about me, that it gave her some closure with her daughter's death, and because she felt guilty that her husband had banned me from attending the funeral.

Never in a million years, I'm willing to wager, did she think she would find herself in bed with me or did she? How did that all this come about, actually? Alcohol played a major role, but still, this weekend was bizarre. These past couple of weeks have been bizarre with first Gwen and now Marianne, and then, before that with the sexual affair with Jamie.

She continued dressing next putting on a button blouse. Then, she slipped on her garter belt. It was kind of an unwieldy contraption seeing it without the nylons attached; it did not appear very sexy. She pulled up her knee length skirt over her garter belt. I waited until she sat on the bed to put on her nylons before pulling her back to me and kissing her.

I was still naked and had no intention getting dressed so soon. I wanted to make love to her, again. I didn't want her to get dressed. I still wanted to play. Not wanting to be alone with my bad self, I didn't want her to go. I figured that it may be a while before I took on another lover and I wanted to make the most of it with her, my Dina Merrill clone.

If there's one thing I enjoy, it's feeling a woman through her clothes and my hands were all over her tits while we kissed. Her nipples instantly responded and she began kissing me breathlessly. I was getting to her and she responded by touching, feeling, and stroking my cock. I reached beneath her skirt and between her legs feeling her panty clad pussy. It excited me to touch the silk fabric of her panty that covered her moist mound. Slowly, I moved my finger along her panty and along her pussy lips before reaching my hand inside her panty. My fingers found her clit and as I teased her with my fingers, I reached deeper inside and finger fucked her until she started wiggling her ass. She was so quiet. All the while my mind imagined that I was feeling up Dina Merrill the way she looked 40 years ago.

"Let me hear what you feel? It is a turn on to hear you react to my touches."

Almost silently, she started moaning. More sexual hang-ups from her generation, still, for someone from that age bracket, she wasn't as hung-up. This was my favorite, kissing and feeling her through her clothes. Already, I had a nice erection and I moved her hand back on my cock. She surprised me when she leaned down and took me in her mouth. I guess my previous assumption was correct about her wanting to make the most of this visit, too. My cock probably would be the last cock she sucked, unless, of course, years from now, she found herself in one of those co-ed nursing homes with a horny, old, man named Mr. Peepers.

"Come on, Baby. What are you saving it for? Give it up."

I could see her being the star of the nursing home and sucking off some of her retired new friends with them writing her room number on the men's room stall. For a good time, go to room eleven and ask for Marianne. I could see her becoming quite the swinger in her old age, finally celebrating the sexual revolution, albeit a bit too late. I could see the other women being jealous of her Dina Merrill beauty and her sexual prowess.

"Did you see Marianne last night with Mr. Peepers? It was scandalous. Who does she think she is, Dina Merrill?"

She removed my cock from her mouth and I pulled her up to me. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to see her tits again. I wanted to suck her nipples. I began unbuttoning her blouse and felt the weight of her tit through her bra. My fingers found the impression that her nipples made and I took each one of them in my fingers through the fabric of the satin material gently pulling them out to full erection. 

"I need to suck your nipples," I whispered in her ear. With that, she removed her blouse and I unhooked and removed her bra. I liked sucking her tits. She had such wonderful tits.

I so wanted to talk dirty to her. I so wanted her to talk dirty to me. I decided to verbalize my thoughts.

"I love your tits. I love sucking your nipples." I could tell by her silence that my talking dirty did nothing for her.

Then, I removed her panties, but not her garters. When I mounted her, she reached her hand down and inserted me. She was wet, but not sopping like Jamie, Gwen or Lynn. Still, she was wet enough that I entered her with ease, probably because having given birth to two children she was bigger than the Jamie, Gwen, and Lynn. Still, those little girls were quite experienced although, I never thought of Lynn as being experienced, just gently used and slightly sexually experienced, that is, until I came along. 

Then, it hit me that I was fucking Lynn and Gwen's mother. Suddenly, I felt like the degenerate that I am, and that I was taking advantage of her. Yet, she was so very attractive even if she was sixty-years-old. Yeah, she had a few stretch marks and more wrinkles than both her daughters combined, but she could still make love, and she was still very desirable. Sexually and sensually, she was still hot. She still knew how to screw and she moved her hips to the rhythm of my humping. Definitely, she was still sexy for an old broad.

Besides, I needed her now and I needed this. It was more than just sex. It was companionship and someone to talk to and to pass the time with, but even with that, it was more than that. Marianne was not just anyone, she was Lynn's Mom.

After making love to Gwen, Lynn's sister, Jamie, Lynn's best friend, and now, Marianne, Lynn's Mom, I felt closer to Lynn than ever before. Truly, albeit too late, I felt as if I knew Lynn better than I did before she died. Obviously, I needed to have sex with Lynn's best friend, her sister, and her mother to get through the death of her. And now after being intimate with Marianne, I dreaded her leaving me alone with my grief over her daughter. 

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 20



Chapter 20

Lynn's spirit returns to Freddie for one final good-bye 

I still missed Lynn. She was gone, gone forever, and never to return. Death is so final. Or is it? Who's to know? No one dead has ever returned to tell us what it's like to die. Or have they? Are the dead here, now, among us in a parallel dimension and we just don't know it? Do the dead walk beside us and we just can't see them, hear them, and touch them?

There are some who claim that the dead walk among us. There are some who claim they feel them. There are some who claim they see them. There are some who claim that they talk to the dead. What's the deal with that? Do you believe in life after death? Is it true that we don't die, we never die? I don't know. Now, that Lynn is among the dead, just as I'd like to feel her, see her, and talk to her again, I'd like to believe that she's out there somewhere waiting for me. It would give me great comfort to know that I could meet up with her again, one day.

Yet, if the dead are here, do they protect us? Are they our angels? Are my grandfather, grandmother, mother, father, and every relative and everyone who I ever knew and who has died, here with me now looking over my shoulder as I type this story? Are they my welcoming committee to ease me from life to death? And what happens to those who have lived a bad life and an evil existence? Is there no one to help them make the transition from Earth to Hell? Do they die alone? How awful is that? Maybe we all die alone. Maybe, in the way that we don't remember anything before we were born, there's just nothing when we die.

I know my Lynn is in Heaven. I know she's there now surrounded by angels and visiting with relatives, friends, and acquaintances and all those who have passed before her. Only, I wish she'd give me a sign, anything to make me know that she's okay. Suddenly, there was a huge crash in the living room and the dogs were barking wildly. It sounded like someone had broken a window to break in the house.

I left Marianne alone to check on what made the noise. The picture that I had taken of Lynn with Seymour and had blown up and framed fell from the wall. Asked and answered, there was my sign. I figured Lynn was here and she was unhappy with me for having sexual relations with her mother, her sister, and, probably, with Jamie too. Although, since, we both had sex with Jamie, I figured she wouldn't be angry over that.

Who knows? Maybe, she's jealous. I don't know. Suddenly, I felt as if I had been cheating on her, even though she was dead. Suddenly, I felt that I had stained our love and sullied her image of me. I felt that I had disappointed her. I figured the dropped picture was my wakeup call.

I wouldn't have slept with her sister and/or her mother and Jamie for that matter had we all not been grieving. I wouldn't have slept with any of them had I not hated being alone and lonely. Besides, we all found life bearable when we comforted one another. Sure, we could have hugged one another and talked, but being sexually intimate with one another was what helped us to forget, if only for an hour or two. 

Considering that I couldn't think about anything else when in the throes of making love and about to cum, having sex with those close to her made me feel better. Making love is one of the few times that I forget the past and live in the present. Making love is one of the few times where life suddenly becomes bearable to make me want to continue living it. Making love gives me hope by exchanging my sadness for happiness. Never have I been sad or unhappy while making love.

As soon as I entered the living room, I felt it. Filled with her spirit, the house was energized. The dogs were wild. I've never experienced anything like this before. I could feel it. I could feel her. It was surreal. It was magical. It was mystical. I felt as if I was at a séance, only I didn't have to summon the dead. She was already here.

The hair on my arms stood up and I had goose bumps everywhere. I put the dogs out. They didn't want to stay in the house and I couldn't calm them down. When they weren't howling, they were cowering and shaking. Within the confines of the fenced backyard, they were happy to go outside and to go as far away from the house and from the ghost, as their legs would take them.

Animals know when something paranormal happens. They have a sixth sense of such things better than humans do. Animals listen to their instincts, whereas we dumb humans ignore them and suffer the consequences of not depending on and listening to our natural warning system when danger presents itself. Sometimes, in that regard, an animal, especially a dog, is smarter than we are. Whereas, we'll remain to confront a stranger or an unknown danger, an animal, with a stronger senses of self-preservation, will flee rather than fight and, most times, won't fight until cornered.

I debated telling Marianne about the presence I felt. She might think me odd and/or crazy. Besides, I didn't want to unduly upset her. I didn't want to make her feel guilty for allowing herself to let down her inhibitions and find comfort from her grief and sadness while in my arms for sex. Definitely, I thought better of telling her that Gwen found the same comfort with me too. Being a mother, Gwen's mother and knowing her daughter as only a mother does, I figured she knew or suspected that already, anyway.

I picked up the picture and placed it behind the sofa. Then, I picked up all the broken glass. I figured that I'd see if Marianne felt the presence of her daughter. I figured that would save me from thinking that I had lost my mind over losing Lynn. I figured that if Marianne sensed the presence of Lynn, then we'd discuss our thoughts. If she said nothing, then I'd keep quiet about what happened, about what I felt, and what I sensed.

Some people believe that the spirit of the dead returns to visit the living. Some people believe in ghosts. Some people believe in reincarnation. Some people want to believe and find comfort in the hope that their loved one is not dead but still alive somewhere in space, in time, and in another dimension. 

Perhaps, they find solace in the fact that, even though they can't see or touch the dead, if they feel they are here with them, then just talking to he or she gives them comfort. Some people don't believe, don't want to believe, and would rather face the finality of the death of their loved one now, so that they can grieve, forget, and continue forward with their lives without them. Whichever way is not the wrong way, it's just their way.

Then, there are those who go through life oblivious. They feel nothing. They sense nothing. They believe in the here and the now and not in life thereafter. They believe that once they're gone, they're gone. Those are the non-believers, the people who don't believe that there's a God. They don't believe that Heaven and Hell exists. Who's to say which is right? What does it matter? Whichever way you believe or don't believe is what gives us comfort when we die.

Many who face death and who have the time before they die, suddenly, switch their beliefs. Suddenly, hoping there is, they believe in God, in Heaven, and in Hell. Suddenly, they don't want to die with the knowledge that this is it and once they're gone they're gone. Too final to believe that, it's more comforting to think that when we die we fly up to Heaven to live eternity in bliss.

I'm not one of those nonbelievers. I believe in God and in Heaven. I believe in the Devil and in Hell. I'm not oblivious to Lynn's spirit. I can feel and I can sense her presence. I know she's here with me, now. Yet, for how long is the question.

Did she return to see if I was okay? Did she return because she was looking for her mother and not me and returned here because her mother is here with me, now? Did she return when Gwen visited or when Jamie returned for the second time? I don't know. I didn't feel her then in the way that I feel her now. Did Gwen and Jamie bring her here with them. Did she linger here, once they came and after they left? I don't know. Is she stuck here with me forever? I just don't know. What I do know is that I feel her and know she's here with me, now.

Silently, I prayed for her soul to be lifted to Heaven. As troubling as all this supposition is, I'd rather have the sense of her here than to have nothing and no feeling of her presence, as I did before. As disturbing as it is to have a picture fly off the wall and have the dogs go wild, I'd rather have them here to let me know that they sense her, too. Otherwise, without the picture falling from the wall and the dogs whining, barking, howling, cowering, and shivering, I may have miss the feeling of her and not realize that she is about. Seemingly, the dogs are my early warning detection between the worlds of the living and the dead.

As horrible was her death with the sudden and final loss of her, I'm glad she's here now for whatever the reason. Maybe I can influence her to stay. Maybe we can come to some arrangement where she'll stay here with me and wait here with me, until it's my time to go off with her. Maybe she's meant to be with me forever throughout life and death. Maybe we're eternal soul mates, spirits who transcend life and death and who travel in worlds that we don't even know yet exist.

"Lynn, if you're here. I love you." I listened waiting for a response and hoping for a sign that she was here. "I'm sorry that I slept with Gwen. Truly, I'm sorry that I slept with your sister." Again, I listened, waiting for a response from her and hoping for a sign of her presence. "I'm sorry that I slept with Jamie. Only, you must understand that having sex with Jamie didn't matter. It was just sex. It was just the two of us finding comfort in whatever way we could to feel closer to you."

Again, I gave her the opportunity to come forward, as she had that night when she died. I waited to see if she'd show herself to me, as she did before. Waiting and listening, I continued talking to her, even after I heard no response and felt and sensed nothing.

"I'm sorry that I slept with your mother. Just as with Jamie, with Gwen and your mother, it was the three of us finding comfort. I was the conduit. I was the attraction. They came here to me. They sought me out in my loneliness and in my despair. We all helped one another to live through another day without you. Do you understand? I hope you do."

Again, I listened, waiting for a response and hoping for a sign of her presence. But for the ticking of the clock and the sound of the rustling leaves from the breeze that blew through the trees outside, it was so very quiet and so very still. I waited hoping she'd let me know that she was there with me. I looked around the expanse of the big room searching for a sign and looking for anything that told me that I was correct in my instincts. I closed my eyes, put my head back, and focused my mind on the hereafter hoping to hear her voice.

"I felt her, too."

"Jesus, Marianne, you scared the shit out of me." I flopped down in my chair. I was so lightheaded. My heart pounded in my chest. I thought I was going to faint. At that moment in time, Marianne's voice sounded exactly like her daughter Lynn. "Oh, my God, I thought it was Lynn talking to me from beyond."

"I'm sorry, Freddie," said Marianne stepping in the room and taking a chair across from me. "I felt her, too," she said looking around the living room and up at the ceiling. "As soon as I walked in your house, I knew she was here with you. I didn't want to say anything for fear you'd think me crazy. I was waiting for you to say something." She looked around the room again and up at the ceiling. "The sense of her is unbelievable and undeniable. She's here. I know she is. She's always been here."

"You did? Really? You felt her? You think she's here?"

I gave her a hard look wondering if she really felt her or if she was just saying that to make me feel better and not wanting me to think that I was crazy and had lost my mind over the death of her daughter.

"She's here, Freddie, she's here" she said, again looking around the room as would a psychic. "I know my daughter. I feel her. She's here with you now," she said with tears flowing from her eyes. 

Again, the hair stood up on my arms and I had goose bumps and a cold chill.

She spotted the broken picture lying behind the sofa. 

"There's your sign," she said pointing to the picture. "I imagine that was all she could give you to—"

"The night she died," I said wiping the tears from my eyes. I paused for what felt like an eternity before I spoke again. "She was here."

"Here?" She reached in the pocket of her bathrobe for a tissue. "What do you mean?"

"She came to me," I said taking a big breath and looking up at the ceiling not wanting to cry. "She came to me that night after she died," I said looking at her and making eye contact. "She was here," I said allowing the tears to fall from my eyes like water falling from a faucet.

Marianne lightly sobbed in her tissue. I wanted to go to her and comfort her but I needed to finish the story. I needed to tell her what happened that night. I needed to do it now, while I still had the strength and this was the right time to do it.

"I thought it was her coming home. I didn't think anything of it. I even heard the key in the door at least, I thought I did. Maybe, I imagined I did. I don't know. I don't know what's real anymore." I looked over at her, again. "I remember it was a surreal night, a night with a full moon and with a sudden strong wind that picked up just before she arrived." I took a breath and relaxed. "Now, I know what they mean when they say, look what the wind blew in because the spirit of her came riding in on that wind."

I looked over at her crying and she looked up at me. The look in her eyes told me that she wanted me to continue. She wanted to hear what I had to say and she wanted to know more about what happened that night after the death of her daughter.

"She greeted the dogs downstairs. I heard the familiar playfulness of the dogs in the way they both act around her. They loved her. Yet, the funny thing is, even though she was greeting them, giving them love, and playing with them, I never heard her voice. Distinctly, I remember trying to listen to hear the sound of her voice but I didn't hear it. As if her voice was far off, I heard her voice in my mind.

I looked over at Marianne for a sign that she wanted me to continue. I know what I was telling her was bittersweet. It was just as upsetting as it was comforting to tell the mother about her deceased daughter's first moments of death after life.

"Please, continue, I want to hear what you have to say. I must know what happened that night. Anything you can share with me now is a comfort and may mean so much to me later."

I nodded my head.

"Then, she came upstairs to the bedroom, undressed, and came to bed." I folded and unfolded my hands trying to remember every detail. It felt as if it was yesterday. Yet, it feels as if it was so long ago. My mind, maybe because of the grief, was dense with the memories of her. "I remember that she didn't turn on the light, which was odd for her. She always had lights blazing," I said with a chuckle. "I was always going around turning off lights after she left a room."

"Yeah, both my daughters think that I have stock in the electric company." We shared a laugh before I continued.

"She undressed in the dark, but I saw her silhouette and when she came to bed...I'm trying to remember. I remember touching her but not touching her, feeling her but not feeling her. Whatever the sense of her was, I now realized that it wasn't in my mind and all my imagination. She was really here." I looked at her. "Do you know what I mean? It was by rote and by the memory of her in the way that we made love. Yes, I made love to her ghostly spirit. Still, it was her spirit and it was her."

I got up to get more tissues. I took some and handed the box to Marianne. I looked at her before continuing. I realized that I was sitting on the edge of my chair, tense and upset. Instead, I should be happy that she's here with me. I leaned back in the comfort of my recliner, took a deep breath, and tried to relax.

"We made love and it was the best ever." I looked over at Marianne. "Sorry."

"No, please, that's okay. I need to know everything that you can remember. Please."

"Only, she seemed so very upset and I remember her being so very cold. Actually, I knew she was upset because she never spoke to me. Always, especially when we're making love, she's the chatty one. And I so much enjoyed that about her, about talking with her and sharing all of my thoughts with her. Not that night, though, she was surreally quiet. She didn't say a word and I didn't press her to speak. 

I remember that I figured she had a spat with you, her father, Gwen or Jamie, which would explain why she was home prematurely. I knew she was upset over something, unbeknownst to me at the time, she was upset over her death, no doubt, now in hindsight. I didn't press her to talk. We just held one another falling asleep until when I awoke with a start and Jamie was there sitting on my bed telling me that there had been a horrible accident."

"She came back to you, Freddie. She loved you," she said reaching over and taking hold of my hand. "She must have really loved you to do whatever she had to do to find her way back to you. I'm so sorry for not overruling my husband and allowing you to come to her funeral."

"No matter, she's here with me now. I can feel her. Only, I don't know how much time she has to stay. I don't know if she's here for good or temporarily. I don't know. I don't know anything."

Marianne sat quietly staring off in the room. She was smiling. She looked happy. She looked the happiest that I have seen her since she first arrived, then, she spoke.

"I'm glad she's returned, even if only in this form. I'm glad she's home with you now for however long." She turned to me. "With the spirit of her here it's no longer so final a farewell. Now, I feel that I may have a chance to communicate with her." She gave me a smile.

"I feel better knowing she's still around helping me to adjust to her death. I don't feel as empty, as I did before," I said.

She smiled again while looking up at the ceiling before setting her sight on me.

"I'm so glad that I came here for a visit and had a chance to meet you. Although, I never would have expected us to get so close so soon," she said with a laugh. "Yet, after what we went through with Lynn's death, it is understandable that we both sought comfort in whatever form, even sex." She looked at me and smiled. "Sex is part of life after all."

"Well, I am glad you were here to experience the feeling of her presence. Otherwise, had I been alone and the only one feeling her here, I'd be questioning my sanity. All of us, Gwen, Jamie, you and I have been walking around like zombies without energy and with bags under our eyes since Lynn died. Now, that Lynn has returned and is here with me, we can continue on with our lives knowing that she's okay. "

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 21



Chapter 21

For those who believe reincarnation, Heaven can wait

Yes, I can feel my Lynn," said Marianne looking around the room. "I feel her energy," she said inhaling deeply, putting back her head and wrapping her arms around herself. "I feel her spirit. I know she's here," she closed her eyes and said with a smile. Then, when she opened her eyes, she looked sad and she suddenly appeared older. "It's going to be hard for me to leave knowing that she's here."

"We don't know how long she'll stay, Marianne. Maybe, it's a temporary thing."

I didn't know what else to say to comfort her. I was hurting too much to help her through her grief when I couldn't help myself through mine. Maybe together we were helping one another more than we realized. Maybe the sex that we had helped us more than we knew.

"I'm just glad she's here," said Marianne.

"They say when people die tragically, suddenly, and instantly that they return to the place where they died or return to the place where they had peace and happiness and haunt there. She was happy when we were together. I've heard that those who have died instantly, don't know that they're dead and need someone, a medium to help them along their way to find their final resting place." 

"Yeah, I heard that too," she said looking at me and waiting for me to continue.

"Maybe, it is unfair to Lynn and selfish of me, but I wouldn't hire a medium to help her along her way. I'd rather she stayed here with me in whatever form, even as a ghost, a spirit, an apparition, a feeling, a sensation, or whatever. I hope she'll stay here with me until it's my time to go. Then, perhaps, I can show her the way." 

I looked around the room and then focused my attention back to Marianne when she started talking again.

"I now know how you feel about having her around as a spirit when you said that it's no longer so final a farewell," she said. "It's somehow comforting to know that she's here even as an apparition or some form of energy, even if it is just a feeling imagined or real. Sensing her gives me comfort."

"At least, now, I don't feel that I'm alone. At least, now, I feel that I have someone to talk to other than the dogs," I said.

"Somehow, I feel that we were brought her here, Gwen, Jamie, and me," she said giving me a satisfied smile. "Perhaps, we were the magnet that attracted her home to you and maybe, she'll stay here with you until you can handle her leaving. Maybe, her purpose being here is to help all of us through our grieving period. The sadness of our loss is holding her here and once we're all at peace with the death of her, then she'll leave and forever rest in peace." She made the sign of the cross. "Amen."

"Amen," I said. "You may be onto something with that logic. She may have been following you guys around from place to place until you deposited her here with me. For all I know, she may leave here when you leave and follow you home," I said with sadness.

"I don't think she will," said her mother. "I think she'll stay here with you. This was her home with you and the dogs. I can feel that she was happy here." She looked over at me. "She returned here for you. She knows that you're the one who's hurting the most. She knows that you needed her to return."

She made me cry and I wiped the tears away from my eyes with my hand. I don't usually cry, but I felt better after releasing some tears over Lynn, finally. With men not supposed to cry, being a man, I thought I was strong. I thought I was beyond crying over Lynn, but being a man had nothing to do with how I felt. Without a doubt, even after the months that passed since her death, I was still grieving the loss of her, as if it had just happened yesterday.

It was later that evening after Marianne had left and had been on the road for a few hours that she called me on her cell phone.

"Freddie, I just wanted to let you know that the feeling of Lynn is gone. She's not with me. She didn't follow me home. Is she still there with you?"

"Yes, she's still here. I feel her even stronger than before."

I heard her softly sobbing.

"Well, I'm glad," she said with shaking voice through her tears. "Listen, this is our little secret. Okay? I don't want the rest of the family to think we're crazy. Not everyone believes in ghosts, especially my husband. He'd think that I lost my mind or was being hysterical and needed therapy," she said with a laugh and a sniffle.

"Yeah, sure, I understand. You take care, Marianne. You have my number. You can call me anytime and anytime you want to come for another visit, just give me a call." 

Suddenly, I pictured Marianne falling asleep on the couch drunk. I pictured undressing Marianne before she undressed me. I pictured having sex with Lynn and Gwen's mother. I remembered the shower scene and the sex we had after. Sure, she can come for a visit anytime.

"Thank you, Freddie; that means a lot to me."

"Listen," I said, "if you feel her with you, please call me."

"Yes, certainly, I will."

"Bye, Marianne."

"Good-bye, Freddie.

Over time, the feeling of Lynn came and went, sometimes stronger and other times weaker. Sometimes I felt her for only a few minutes before the feeling of her faded away while other times she was there with me most of the day. When she was there, I felt her looking over my shoulder. The feeling of her blowing on my neck or in my ear was nerve racking. I could imagine her laughing when annoying me like that.

Certainly, I felt her presence stronger when her mother was here. Yet, even though the feeling of her there came and went, always, she was there with the advent of some anniversary, such as, our first date and our first kiss. She returned for her birthday and for my birthday. I know she was here when Seymour got loose and was nearly hit by a car that stopped just in time. I know that Lynn saved Seymour's life. Then, for the longest time, I felt nothing. She stopped coming to see me.

I tried to feel her by closing my eyes and concentrating on the memory of her. On those days when I was so alone and lonely and missed her so terribly much, I tried summoning her by concentrating on the image of her and holding her picture or something that belonged to her and that she cherished. When she didn't materialize, I feared she was gone for good.

I needed her here with me even if only as a ghostly spirit or as a feeling or a sense of something skulking around the house. After the orgy of physical and sexual contact with Jamie, Gwen, and Marianne was over, I was so sad, so lonely, and so empty with the loss of her. It was comforting when I felt her here with me. When she wasn't around, I was depressed. I felt so alone and so lonely without hearing her voice and her laugh and without feeling her body next to mine in bed as we spooned. Never did she return to me, as she did the night of her death. That night was our last intimate time together and a memory that I'll cherish for the rest of my life.

It was such a bittersweet experience to feel her there with me one day and then not to feel her at all the next. I had no control of when she'd come, when she'd go, and how long she'd stay. I wondered if she was out in Rochester visiting Marianne or in Boston visiting Gwen or Jamie. Maybe she was in Heaven, finally, where she belonged.

Still, Marianne said she'd call me if she felt Lynn's presence there with her and I never doubted that she'd call me to let me know. I suspected, though, that Lynn would make less visits, as more time passed. A gradual process of mourning her again, days turned into weeks and weeks into months without feeling the presence of Lynn. Finally, I figured she wouldn't return again. She was gone for good and all that I had left of her were memories.

I made a pilgrimage out to Rochester to visit her grave selfishly hoping that it would stir her to return home with me. I took a stool with me and sat there for couple of hours talking to her with the dogs. I would have stayed longer, but it started thundering before it started raining, really pouring, and I feared being struck by lightning. Besides the dogs wanted no part of sitting out in a storm. Unfortunately, my praying and my visit to her grave didn't encourage her to follow me home. I feared that she was gone forever.

No longer did the dogs stare up at the wall or at the ceiling wagging their tails. No more did they get wild for no apparent reason. I knew she was gone and I wanted to call Marianne to tell her that Lynn was gone, but I thought better of it. It was better that Marianne believed that Lynn was still around me. I didn't think she'd want a telephone call from me telling her that her daughter was gone, finally. I figured by my silence, she knew that anyway.

I wanted to see Marianne when I was in Rochester, but I felt guilty. How could I look her husband in the eye after having sex with not only two of his daughters but also his wife? If he hated me before, he'd want to kill me now. Besides, it would have been awkward to visit with Marianne and her daughter Gwen, after Gwen moved back home when her job didn't last.

Gwen was unpredictable and there's no telling what she may have said about what had happened between us in front of not only her father but also her mother. I could just hear Gwen laughing while reminiscing of the time when she tossed my salad in the shower. Just as I could hear her father saying, "You did what? Marianne, where's my shotgun?"

Now, I felt terribly alone again. I hate being alone. Whether she's dead or alive, I need a woman in my life. Only, I don't mean that how it sounds. I need someone in my life, but not just any woman. 

I want that special woman, someone who I'm deeply attracted to on all levels, a woman who I think about when leaving the house and who makes me not want to leave her bed. I want a woman who I think about all day long, a woman who makes me impatient to get home, and one who I love to kiss and hold. I want a woman who will never make me want to look at another woman. I want a woman who makes me giddy with happiness and lustful with desire, and when we make love it's magical. That's the woman that I want. If there's such a woman for me, where is she?

Even though I've had an abundance of sexual relationships within the past year and a half with Lynn, her best friend, Jamie, Lynn's sister, Gwen, and Lynn's mother, Marianne, believe it or not, I'm a one woman type of guy. I much prefer love to sex and would rather have someone to talk to and laugh with, do things with, and travel to places, as well as having the intimate relationship with all the hugging, holding and sex.

I'm too old and too set in my ways to be partying with the young chicks anymore. I want something real and everlasting. I need someone my own age this time around. I miss having a meaningful conversation. I wish I could find someone who's totally into me and who shares my interests.

It was at the supermarket where I met Kate. Obviously, by her looks, I was attracted to her at first glance. She was tall, thin, good looking, and wearing a Red Sox baseball cap. It's always good to meet another faithful Fenway fan and the fact that she was beautiful made her so much more interesting. From the back, because of her gray hair, she looked fifty-something but, after looking at her again and upon closer examination, especially from the front, her beautiful skin contradicted her age. Had she colored her hair, she'd look thirty-something.

I never understood a woman who turned her back to youthfulness by allowing her hair to gray naturally without coloring it, that is, until I met Kate. It not only suited her but also, amazingly, it looked good on her. Now, after seeing her with her shoulder length, flowing gray hair, I couldn't imagine her hair any other color. In the way of first introducing rich cream to dark, strong coffee when it swirls around before mixing with and turning a lighter shade of brown, or when seeing the glistening glass and chrome of modern architecture next to the brick and wood of old world charm, she looked young and old at the same time while capturing the qualities of both youth and maturity in one glance. I liked the look.

It was weird, in one look I could see how she looked in her youth and could imagine what she'd look like as she aged. When she turned away from me and I viewed her from the back and then when she turned towards me and I viewed her from the front, I felt as if I was viewing Oscar Wilde's picture of Dorian Gray, but as a hologram, young to old and old to young. Weird, so very strange.

Yet, puzzlingly, there was something so very familiar about her. I felt that I had met her before or knew her from somewhere long ago. Without a doubt, it was her eyes. Filled with an expressiveness of emotion, they were deep and electric grey-blue eyes. Her eyes reminded me of Lynn's eyes.

It was apparent that intense intelligence abounded behind those sexy and erotic eyes. She captured me and summed me up in one look. I felt transparently violated and her look made me feel used. She made me feel naked but not in a sexual way. In a truth be told sort of look, she removed the layers of pretenses, deception, and foolishness about me. I felt that she saw the real me and was looking at the person that hid beneath my masked persona. Immediately, by her overt look, I could tell that she liked what she saw and a mutual attraction flickered before catching fire.

Suddenly, I thought of that movie, Heaven Can Wait with Warren Beatty playing Joe Pendleton and Julie Christie playing Betty Logan, the remake of Here Comes Mr. Jordan with Robert Montgomery and Evelyn Keyes. In the original movie, Joe Pendleton is a boxer who's in the pink of his physical fitness, whereas, in the remake, Joe Pendleton is the quarterback of a professional football team at the height of his successful career. In the original movie, Joe dies of a heart attack in the boxing ring, whereas in the remake, Joe is hit by a car while riding his bicycle through a highway tunnel.

Nonetheless, as it was in the original movie, the main character died when an angel, hoping to spare him from the pain and the suffering of dying, prematurely, pulled his spirit from his body. Only, just as happened in the original movie in the boxing ring, the boxer wasn't having a heart attack and would have not only survived but also won the fight. In the remake, the car would have swerved and missed him and there would have been no accident. In an attempt to rectify his mistake, the angel takes Warren Beatty around to different people who are about to die hoping to find a comparable body for Joe Pendleton to inhabit. Finally he puts him in the body of a rich industrialist, Leo Farnsworth. Only, unbeknownst to Joe, there's a plot, by his wife and his wife's boyfriend, to murder him. Now, Joe and the angel are on a panicked mission to find another body to inhabit before it's too late and he's dead forever.

Meanwhile, he meets a woman, Julie Christie, and has fallen in love with her. He knows now that the angels are searching for another body to place him inside. Fearing that he may lose touch with this love at first sight woman, he warns Julie Christie that if anything was to happen to him, and that if he was to die, she should give a stranger a chance. Figuring that fate would intervene and inevitably bring them together again, but that he'd be a stranger to her, he tells her that it's in the eyes. 

The eyes are the window to the soul and the only way that she'll recognize him again. With all of this supposition flashing through my mind within nanoseconds, I wondered if Kate had a similar accident and the angels, having made a terrible mistake by taking Lynn too early, put Lynn's spirit in another body. Nah, grasping at straws with my grieve twisting my mind, that's just crazy or is it?

"Sorry," I said, as we reached for the same package of stew, beef bones and our fingers barely touched.

As if an electrical shock with a subsequent surge of energy, the feeling that I received when I touched her fingers was jolting. The sensation of her presence, standing so close to me without making contact, penetrated my soul. I couldn't stop staring at her eyes. She melted me with her look and I was forever lost in her stare.

"Go ahead," she said pulling her hand away and reaching for another package.

"Thank you," I said staring over at her and hooked by her hypnotic eyes that set my heart ablaze with desire for her. "I give my dogs these as a special reward. This is the only package with a small bone and a big bone. I have two dogs a Rhodesian Ridgeback and a Ray terrier. It keeps them quiet for a couple hours."

Suddenly I felt pathetically lonely that I had to explain why I wanted this particular package of bones to a stranger and why this particular package was so important to me. Yet, it wasn't the package of bones, of course, it was her. Just as it was the first time that I met Lynn at the dog park, engaging her in conversation was my simplistic way of prolonging my time with her. Just as I didn't want Lynn to leave that first time I met her, I didn't want this woman to go either. It was my way of hoping to instigate something more, if only a longer conversation.

"Yes, I understand," she said giving me a look as if there was something wrong with me.

"This package has a big bone and a little bone," I said holding up the package to show her while staring at the package and then looking up at her again. She was stunningly beautiful. Suddenly, feeling ridiculously weird that I was going on about this package of bones and about the dogs, and suddenly feeling that I've been home alone way too long with just the dogs, I needed to explain. "I have a big dog, a Rhodesian Ridgeback and a little dog, a Rat Terrier."

As soon as I said that, realizing that I was repeating myself I was embarrassed for myself. I sounded like someone who was mentally challenged telling her that I have a big dog and a little dog. What the Hell is wrong with me? Why is this woman making me so nervous?

"I know, you said that already," she said with a laugh. "Please," she laughed and raised a hand to stop me from talking, "You don't have to explain. You may have that particular package of bones. I'll take another. I only use them to give flavor to my broth."

Her assurance relaxed me and immediately, I felt comfortable with this woman and, now that I found her, I didn't want her to disappear from my life.

"Hi," I said sticking out my hand. "I'm Freddie."

"Hi Freddie. I'm Kate," she said smiling and shaking my hand.

Her hand was so soft and I did not want to let go of it. I didn't want her to leave and was trying to think of things to say to keep her there.

"Hi," I said again unable to think of anything else to keep her there talking to me.

She blanked my mind with her beauty and with those eyes that reminded me so much of Lynn's eyes.

"It's nice to meet you," she said turning and about to leave.

"Pardon me for being so forward and personal," I said touching her hand with mine and stopping her from going.

"Yes?" she said looking at me with those eyes again.

"Do you have someone in your life?"

"Pardon?"

I'm such a dummy. In the way that I blurted that out, it sounded too much as if I was trying to intrude upon her personal and private life. I sounded too much like a stalker. She looked at me oddly and I would have, too, if someone, a stranger, had asked me a question, such as that and in that way. I rephrased the question and smiled.

"Please, forgive me for being so impetuous, but are you married or do you have a boyfriend?"

"Oh," she said smiling. "No, I'm divorced." She made eye contact with those hypnotic eyes before answering me, "And, presently," she laughed, "I'm without a boyfriend."

"Listen," I said suddenly feeling a psychic connecting with her gaze, "I haven't had lunch since my girlfriend died." I saw the shock that washed over her face. "I'm sorry," I said laughing. "I've been home alone way too long with the dogs. Obviously, I forget how to communicate with a human, especially with a beautiful woman." I took a big breath. "What I meant to say was, I haven't had lunch with anyone since—"




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 21



Suddenly, she turned pale and I knew that there was more beneath the surface to this woman.

"How did she die?" Saving me from making more of a fool of myself, she interrupted me to look at me with interest.

"She died suddenly...in a car accident."

"I'm sorry," she said wringing her hands. "I had a car accident eighteen months ago, a very severe one and I nearly died. I was in a coma for sixteen days." She looked weird distant suddenly, as if she had left her body and someone else was speaking for her. "To say that the accident was a life altering experience is an understatement." She pulled a handful of her hair forward. "When I awoke I was totally gray. I decided to keep my hair that way, as a reminder of how fleeting life can be."

She touched me with her story, with her sensitivity and with her personality, and, of course, with her looks. Her accident was about the same time of Lynn's accident. After loving Lynn, never did I ever think that I could fall for someone again. Suddenly, I was so very nervous again. I was afraid that she'd leave and I'd never see her again. I was in a panic.

Could she be Lynn? Did an Angel make a mistake, when he took my Lynn? Did he put her in Kate's body? Is our meeting in the supermarket at the meat counter destiny? Here's the woman of my dreams standing in front of me and I'm tongue-tied. I took a breath and relaxed. Maybe, she's Lynn reincarnated. Nah, it can't be. There's no such thing, or is there? Who knows?

To be continued...



Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 22



Chapter 22

Heaven can wait, the reincarnation from Lynn to Kate. 

She told me that she was in a serious car accident. She told me that she could have and should have died. Maybe Kate was supposed to die and did die in that accident. Maybe Lynn wasn't supposed to die in her accident. Just as what happened in that movie, Heaven Can Wait, did Lynn's Angel, hoping to save her from pain and suffering, make a mistake and take her spirit and her soul too soon? Was Lynn supposed to have survived that accident? Then, when the Angel was trying to fix his or her mistake, was Kate's body the only body available for Lynn to return in to me?

I looked at her while looking for any residual clues of Lynn as evidence to my crazy supposition. Other than her eyes, the same beautiful eyes as Lynn's eyes, Kate looked nothing like Lynn. Other than she was tall, beautiful, and had the same shapely body, well, there's my clue. As hot as was Lynn, in that regard, Kate looked a lot like Lynn. Only, where Lynn was younger, Kate was older by 20 years. By teasing me with the thought that Kate may be Lynn reincarnated, was Heaven sending me a message for me to stay with a woman my own age? A message I'd be happy to take, if only Kate would have me, I'd be a happy man.

Only, with her on her way to checkout to pay for her groceries and with the chance that I'd lose her and never see her again, I had to act fast to stop her from leaving the store. Hoping she was just as interested in me as I was in her, I had to think of something witty, funny, and/or intelligent to say to delay her departure. Not able to think of anything, I asked her the obvious.

"Would you like to grab some lunch?"

There, I said it. I put myself out there by telling her that I was interested in her enough to invite her to lunch. If this was meant to be, if she was, indeed, my Lynn, she'd say yes. Preparing myself for rejection, I watched her while trying to read her body language. Hoping, while waiting for her to accept my invitation to lunch, she looked at her watch and back at me. 

"What do we do with our groceries?"

Relieved that only groceries stood in our way of finding everlasting love, I wanted to take her carriage with mine, roll them down the aisle, and leave. Who cares about groceries, when I'm about to rekindle my love affair again with my dream woman reincarnated in someone else's body? Needing to think of something to say that would appease her and make her stay with me, at least long enough for me to talk to her over lunch, I took a long shot that she'd agree. Again, if she was Lynn and if this was meant to be, she'd go with me whatever the Hell I said.

"We can drop off our groceries and meet back here," I said hoping to allay any safety concerns that she may have in being with a total stranger by asking her to meet me back at the supermarket, a public place.

"I have a better idea," she said with a smile and a thoughtful pause before continuing. "Why don't you follow me home and you can help me with my bundles and then I'll do the same for you."

"Okay, yeah, sure, so long as you don't look at my messy house," I said with a laugh and feeling good that she obviously trusted me enough to ask me to her house. "Like I said, I've been alone for a while."

"Well, normally, I don't invite strangers, especially strange men, to follow me home and help me with my bundles nor do I volunteer to go to a strange man's house unescorted, but I feel safe with you for some reason," she looked at me, as if trying to place my face. "There's something in your eyes that looks so very familiar. It's weird but I feel as if I've met you somewhere before long ago."

"Me too. I got that same feeling when I looked in your eyes. You have very beautiful eyes."

I wanted to tell her about that movie, Heaven Can Wait, but I figured that reference can wait, at least, until I got to know her better. I didn't want her to think that I was totally strange and that the only reason why I was attracted to her was because I thought she was the reincarnation of my dead girlfriend. That would go over real big.

"Thank you," she said looking down at my hands. "I couldn't help but notice your hands when you touched my hand. You have nice hands. Women notice men's hands. Your hands are strong with long fingers and clean fingernails."

"Yeah," I said looking at my fingernails before looking back at her. "I don't like getting my fingernails dirty."

"What do you do?"

"Do? You mean for a living? For work?"

"Yeah," she laughed at my clumsy conversation. "What's your occupation?"

"Oh, nothing, I don't have an occupation. I write. I write novels, short stories, and poems. After having had some early success writing a couple of bestsellers, I retired early from the rat race of getting up to go to work every day. I work from home now and am free to write whatever I want, whenever I want. Not having to dance to the drumbeat of a publisher is what every writer wants but few ever get. I was lucky. Now they solicit me, instead me having to solicit them."

"A writer? I never met a writer before. My last boyfriend was a school administrator. My ex-husband was a salesman."

"And what about you? What do you do?"

"I used to model," she said looking almost ashamed instead of being proud.

"Obviously," I said taking that as an invitation to look down at her body. "I could tell that. You look like a model."

"It was so long ago and such a brief period of my life. I modeled while I was in college and continued while I earned my master's degree. If nothing else, it paid the bills but, having to fend off the advances of so many men, it was too fast of a life for me. Now, more able to go with the flow, I'm a public school teacher."

"That's an interesting career path going from modeling to teaching. I wish I had a teacher who looked like you when I was in school. All my teachers, including the women had mustaches," I said with a laugh.

"Well, I don't have a mustache," she said laughing. "When I was modeling, they wanted to put me under contract, but I thought better of it. Between the catcalls and the rejections, I modeled enough to know that it wasn't the profession for me. Besides, I didn't want to move to New York and throw myself in the fast life of fresh fashion photographers, pushy agents, and impromptu invitations to parties that I'd regret going to the next day. A career that usually ends at thirty-years-old, I'm glad I stayed in school and finished my education."

"A teacher, huh? That's weird. My girlfriend was a special needs teacher. She taught children who had Autism and was returning to school to finish her Master's degree."

"That' an admirable profession. I don't have the patience for that, I'm afraid. The kids that I teach test my patience enough without trying to teach children with special physical and emotional needs. I don't know how someone can teach children with so many difficulties to overcome. What was her name?"

"Lynn."

"Lynn? No kidding, that's a weird coincidence. My mother's name is Lynn. Named after her, my middle name is Lynn. My real name is Katherine Lynn, but ever since I was a little girl everyone called me Kate and it stuck. For some reason, maybe because it was my Mom's name, I always liked the name Lynn and wished she had named me that, instead of Katherine. Lynn rolls easier off the tongue than Kate," she said looking at me with those eyes.

"Well, Katherine Lynn, what do you say we head on up to the checkout line and continue our spur of the moment date?"

"Okay, sure. I'd like that," she said touching my arm.

I followed her home and helped with her bundles. It was weird seeing what she bought at the grocery store on a weekly basis. With the both of us buying a lot of the same grocery items and foods, jumping way ahead of myself, I couldn't help but think of the money we'd save if lived together. Ripe for a relationship, she was easy to know and, as if we had already been boyfriend/girlfriend, we made an immediate connection.

"Well everything is put away," I said stuffing the last box of rice in her cabinet.

"Thank you," she said leaning to me to kiss me on the cheek. 

She smelled good, clean and fresh, as if she had just emerged from the shower and I couldn't help but imagine her naked. I so wanted to turn my head and kiss her on the mouth, but I didn't want to rush her, especially if she really wasn't my Lynn. Taking it slow, with me already in her house, this potential love affair was already on the fast track enough already.

"Are you ready to see my messy house?"

"Lead the way she said."

We both got back in our cars and she followed me home. Figuring that I'd rather eat in with her than eat out, I ordered take out Chinese as I drove to my house. The timing of the delivery surprised her, when it arrived only a few minutes after I gave her a tour of my house. Even stranger than the feeling that I received when her fingers touched my hand and even stranger than the familiar sense that I felt when I first looked in her eyes, was when she met Seymour for the first time.

She received a better greeting than I ever received when coming home. In the way he reacted when meeting her was conclusive evidence that she was, indeed, Lynn reincarnated. Never has this dog been as excited. Polo, the hyper Rat terrier, was docile in comparison to Seymour. Other than Lynn, never has this dog greeted anyone in that way. He was wildly crazy. He let out this big unearthly howl and I thought he was going to have a heart attack.

At first, I thought he was going to attack her and before I could react and come to her rescue, he jumped up on her and put his big paws on her shoulders as if to hold her in place while licking her face and whining. Who said dogs are dumb? I wished I could have licked her face in that way. His tail was wagging so fast that I thought it was going to launch itself from his big body. From that time and every time he was with her thereafter, he never left her side. Animals know and just as I suspected she was, he knew that she was Lynn, too.

We ate our lunch, talked and laughed, and shared a bottle of wine out on the back porch, while watching the dogs play. Talking about everything and laughing over nothing, we discussed our entire lives in a mere few hours. If I closed my eyes, sitting there with her felt as if I was sitting there with Lynn and having our coffee, in the way we used to do while watching the dogs play. Being with her was so free, so easy, and so right. Feeling as if I've known her longer than a day, when she stood to look out at the dogs, sensing the time was right, I stood, took her in my arms, and kissed her.

Our first kiss, it was a light but meaningful kiss. A kiss without tongues at first, it quickly became more passionate. With her the same height and having the same shapely body as Lynn, I felt as if I was kissing Lynn. Then, when she opened her mouth and surrendered her tongue to me, a sure sign that she liked me as much as I like her, we were making out as if we were horny teenagers.

Strangely enough, all the other times I made out with a woman, even Lynn, I couldn't wait to feel her breasts and cup her ass in my hand. Only this time, maybe because she was older, I was more respectfully reserved. Strange that I'd admit this after having had so much sex with Lynn, Jamie, Gwen, and Marianne, but I was more excited with Kate's kiss and with her lips than I was by her body. That's not to say that I was rejecting her body and didn't want to touch, feel, and caress every fold of her beautiful skin.

This time, taking things slow, I controlled myself from rushing. This time, I wanted to take my time. This time, knowing in advance that she was the one, I wanted to savor the memory of kissing her and permanently etch the feel of her in my mind. Only, unable to control her wild side, she had something else in mind.

She surprised me when she reached down and felt my bulge through my pants. It wasn't until she touched me first that I explored her body. First I felt her ass by running my hand along her backside. Squeezing her firm ass and cupping her shapely ass, I felt her breast by reaching up to feel one tit before feeling the other. A good sign that she was aroused by my kisses and touches as much as I was by her kisses, when I slid my palm across her breasts, her nipples were already erect.

As if it belonged there, her hand felt good on my cock, even if it was only through my pants. She had this neat way of feeling the length of me, while grabbing me, as if she was a blind woman feeling an erect prick for the first time. Then, when I reached my hand between her legs and cupped her pussy through her jeans, she gasped. When I tickled her with my fingers, the passion of her kisses increased as I slowly ran my fingers along her pussy slit and applied a little pressure through her pants. If this felt so good through our clothes, I couldn't wait to be naked with her.

"Where's your bedroom? It's been a while since I've made love. I really need to get laid," she said whispering and laughing in my ear. 

Especially with the promise of dirty talk, our first time together was too easy. Someone who looked like her could have anyone. Yet, she was choosing me. Obviously, she wanted to make love with me as much as I wanted to make love with her. If this was Lynn reincarnated as Kate, to be honest, I was glad that she looked more like a mature 45-years-old woman than an immature 25-years-old girl. With her not telling me how old she was, nor would I dare ask, I figured she was in her forties, even though she looked like she was in her thirties, especially when the light was right. When she still looked this good right now, I could see why she was selected to model back then.

"Follow me," I said taking her by the hand.

Glad that I had at least made my bed, I kicked my dirty socks under the bed as I walked by them. Just as it was magical kissing her standing up, it was even more exciting kissing her laying down. With my excitement increasing with every feel of her shapely body, I touched her everywhere through her clothes and she did the same to me. Not in a rush to see her naked, taking my time touching her and feeling her, even though I loved feeling her breasts through her blouse and bra, I couldn't wait to see her topless.

Continually telling myself to slow down, I couldn't wait to see her naked. I wanted the memory of our first time together to be something that I'd remember for the rest of my life and I didn't want the memory to be a ruined blur because I was too horny and too hot for her to enjoy the moment. Nonetheless, even though I wanted to take my sweet time with foreplay, I couldn't help myself from undressing her. Button by slow button, I unbuttoned her blouse in between long, wet kisses and loving touches. My horny hands were all over her C cup bra. Better than Jamie's, Gwen's and Marianne's, her breasts felt just like Lynn's breasts.

Then, not sharing my desire to enjoy the moment and make this our lasting memory by her undressing too fast, she stood, removed her tight jeans, unbuttoned the rest of her blouse, and removed that too. Slow down I wanted to tell her, but too excited by the mere sight of her panty and beautiful body, I said no such thing. Now with her adorned in my favorite woman's outfit of choice, even better than seeing a woman naked, seeing her standing before me in her sexy bra and bikini panty was a sight to behold. I stood to remove my pants but she stopped me.

"Allow me," she said. 

With me wanting to take my sweet time with her, she was in a rush to strip me. She unbuckled, unzipped, and pulled down my pants before pushing me back on the bed. Then, she removed my shoes and pulled off my jeans. Next she unbuttoned my shirt and removed that along with my tee shirt. She made me feel as if she was an emergency room nurse and I was an accident victim needing to be prepped for the doctors examination. Now with me just in my boxers and her in her bra and panty, we resumed making out. Only this time, with both of us in our underwear, we had more access to one another's bodies.

As if she was the man and I was the woman, continuing her sexual assault of my body, she stuck her hand down my shorts and grabbed my cock, while I felt her breasts and fingered her nipples through her bra. Then, when she started slowly stroking me to a harder erection, figuring that I was falling behind in my exploration of her, I stuck my hand down her panty and cupped her pussy before feeling her warm wetness with my fingers. She was already so very wet. No doubt, by the passion of her kisses and in the way she so quickly stripped off my clothes but for my boxers, she wanted me as much as I wanted her. Now eager to return the favor, I couldn't wait to strip her naked too. I couldn't wait to mount her and make love to her. 

My only issue was wrapping my head around her and all of that's unexpectedly happened so quickly. Having just met her at the supermarket, believing her to be Lynn reincarnated, here I am in bed with Kate. Never have I bedded a woman so fast, not even Lynn. Excluding Jamie, Gwen, and Marianne, casual sex never happens to me. Only, I wasn't considering this casual sex. I was thinking of this, our first union together, as the real deal. Yet, she wanted me as much as I wanted her and that surely helped in both of us getting what we so wanted. Still, all of this was so surreally weird.

After Lynn haunted me, after I no longer felt her presence, and after I mourned her again, as if she died again, when her spirit left me, I kept thinking that this is Lynn when, of course, this was Kate. Not wanting her to think me crazy, not wanting her to think that I was so still so sad in my loss of Lynn to imagine that Kate was Lynn reincarnated, maybe it was just the writer in me that made me want to believe that there was Heaven, Angels, and reincarnation. Only, in the way that Lynn and Gwen could have been twins, except for their sexual peccadilloes, Lynn and Kate had so many things in common that they could have been sisters. Besides, the only proof that I needed, Seymour knew that Kate was Lynn and that was enough for me.

In the way that Kate looked at me, she reminded me of the way that Lynn looked at me. In the way that Kate kissed me and blanked my mind with her deep, wet kisses made me think that she was Lynn. In the way that Kate felt in my arms was as if I was holding and about to make love to Lynn. Wanting to believe, with not just one thing hitting me over the head to make me believe that Kate was Lynn, it was all the little, subtle things that had me scratching my head and looking at her cross-eyed.

She slid down the bed to take me in her mouth. Oh, my God, my beautiful ex-model, sexy school teacher, and soon to be live-in, permanent girlfriend is blowing me for the first time. I wanted to remember every second of this unexpected, sexual experience. Looking down while watching her suck me, I couldn't believe she was sucking my cock. Then, when she looked up at me with those big, beautiful eyes with my cock buried in her mouth, she reminded me so very much of my Lynn.

I couldn't wait to return the favor. I couldn't wait to fall between her legs for an up close and in depth look at her pussy. I couldn't wait to finger her in the way that she was stroking me. I couldn't wait to lick her in the way that she was sucking me. Only, being the breast man that I am, I needed to see her tits first.

While she sucked me, while she busily bobbed her head up and down and side to side, and while she made all of those wonderful, slurping, cock sucking sounds that I love to hear, sounds that tells me that she's enjoying blowing us as much as I'm enjoying being blown by her, I reached around her and unhooked her bra. Then, ever so slowly, wanting to remember and preserve this moment forever, I lowered her bra straps, as if they were ribbons on a gift wrapped package. Without removing her bra cups, needing the imagined image of her breasts to fill my mind before having them fill my eyes, but needing them to fill my hands first, I felt her breasts through her bra again. Only, this time, after I felt her breasts through her bra, still keeping her unhooked bra in place, I reached my hand inside to feel her breast and finger her nipples, first one and then the other. They felt magnificent.




Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 22



Finally, excitedly ready to see her breasts, I reached down for her and removed her bra. Her breasts were perfect C cups. In the way they were so shapely, her breasts reminded me of Lynn's breasts only just a tad larger. Tit for dick, with her still sucking my cock, I caressed her big tits and fingered her nipples. As soon as I took her nipples between my fingers, she took my cock deeper in her mouth. As soon as I pulled, turned, and twisted her nipples, I could feel her excitement increase. It felt so good to feel her breast in my hand with my cock in her mouth.

With her still on her knees, a long reach, even for my long arms, I reached my hand in her panties and played with her trimmed pubic hair before inserting a finger, while teasing her clit with my other finger. As soon as I played with her pussy, she was squirming, she was wiggling, she was hot, and she was ready. Interrupting and temporarily forsaking her impromptu blowjob to eat her, I reached down for her and she removed her panty, as she slid up to me. As if we were a moving conveyor belt of sexual activity, as she slid up as I slid down and sucked her nipples along the way.

I couldn't wait to sniff her. I couldn't wait to bury my nose in her cunt. I couldn't wait to lick her. I couldn't wait to taste her. I couldn't wait to slide my tongue all over and inside her wet pussy. I couldn't wait to eat her.

As if she was warm, sweet, tapioca pudding, I buried my face in her pussy. My tongue lapped her while my finger fucked her. Not as vocal as Jamie, not as sexually demanding as Gwen, and not as set in her ways as Marianne, a nice in between balance, she was still more vocal than Lynn. Then, unbelievably, as if she was my custom made, dream woman, she said exactly what I wanted to hear.

"Lick me, Freddie. Fuck my pussy with your fingers. Make me cum. I need to cum. Lick me, baby. Lick me. Lap my cunt juices."

Dirty talk. Just as Lynn was into dirty talk, just as Jamie, Gwen, and Marianne weren't, Kate was giving me dirty talk. I love dirty talk. I love a woman who explicitly tells me what she sexually wants, so that I can explicitly tell her what I sexually want too. Indeed, we were a sexual, love match made in Heaven.

"I love licking your pussy, Kate," I said while licking her and fingering her. I love fucking you with my long stiff fingers. I want to make you cum," I said with my face buried in her pussy and careful not to call her Lynn.

"After you give me an orgasm with your mouth and another one with your cock, I can't wait to suck your big prick again. I can't wait for you to cum in my mouth. I can't wait to swallow you. Lick me, Freddie. Lick my pussy and fuck me with your fingers and I'll give you the best blowjob you've ever had in your life."

I'm in love. I just found the one woman perverted enough for me. One who reminds me of Lynn, one who is even more beautiful than Lynn, and one who loves talking dirty in bed. I was baffled in trying to think who she reminds me of, when looking up at her from this angle with my head between her legs and with her lifting her head to look down at me with those eyes, mostly because of those eyes. Then, I got a sense of who it was. She looks like that Brazilian model, Adriana Francesca Lima, only Kate is much prettier.

Her dirty talk made me more sexually excited for her. I licked and fingered her more passionately. I was enjoying eating her more than I've enjoyed eating any woman. In the way that she humped my mouth with her pussy, in the way that she pulled me by my hair and pulled my face into her cunt, unbelievably Kate was more sensuously sexual than Lynn, Jamie, Gwen, and Marianne. I licked her until I felt her long legs tense and saw her back arch. As if trying to shove my tongue deeper inside of her, as if trying to fuck her pussy with my tongue, pulling my hair harder, she impaled her pussy with my face.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I'm going to cum. Don't stop. Whatever you do, don't stop. Lick me, Freddie. Lick me. Lick me, while playing with my clit and fucking me with your finger."

I waited for her to come down from the ceiling. I gave her a moment to regain her energy. Then, when she reached out for me, I mounted her. Immediately, I felt her hand reach down to direct me inside of her. Just as I entered her, I realized that I was more than hard enough to penetrate her, even though I forgot to take a Viagra. Obviously, I didn't need a drug to make love to Kate. She was my drug.

Without saying a word, forsaking dirty talk for French kissing, our first time together, we made long and loving love with deep, wet kisses in between. All happening over a three hour period of marathon sex, the second time together, we fucked. I banged her, really banged her hard. Then, with me spent and sweaty and her with her hair back and her face flushed, gushing as is she was a supermodel on a Caribbean photo shoot, we rested while holding one another.

Then, when I felt myself drifting off to sleep, she let go of me to slide down the bed and to take me in her mouth again. As if I was ready to be shipped to the morgue, as if I was dead on arrival in the back of an ambulance, she resuscitated me and aroused me back to life with her hand, lips, and tongue. Then, once I was hard and ready, she mounted me. With her hair flying as if windblown and her big tits bouncing, she rode me as if she was a cowgirl and I was her bucking bronco. The lovemaking that I experienced with Kate was even better than the lovemaking that I had with Lynn. Even though I connected with Lynn, we disconnected on other levels of maturity, no doubt because of the differences in our age. Now, with Kate nearly my age, we were more of a solid match.

That was three years ago and Kate and I are still together, only we're married now, making it official two years ago. I still haven't told her about the Heaven Can Wait movie or that I suspect that she's my girlfriend reincarnated. I don't think that I ever will. It's our secret, Seymour's and mine. It doesn't matter, now. I'm with Kate now and not Lynn. Lynn's dead, gone forever and never to return.

I love Kate for who she is as a person. She's much like Lynn in many ways but so different in other ways. Sometimes she says things and/or does things that are so reminiscent of Lynn that I can almost see her soul emerging from Kate's body. Other times, she's totally opposite. It's weird. Fortunately, with Kate, I have a woman who possesses all the things that I loved about Lynn, beauty, sense of humor, and she talks dirty in bed. Moreover, closer to my age, she's a woman who shares many of my interests and a woman who I can freely converse with about books, television, and movies without having to explain all the historical references of my conversation.

Before Lynn's death, I couldn't imagine my life without her. Then, when she died, I never thought that I'd get over the loss of her. Now, with Kate in my life, life is good, real good. My love so young relationship with Lynn was never as good as love right now with Kate.

THE END