“Dad, you will thank me for this,” Dan McLennan reached across the dinner table and scooped up his father’s cell phone and began installing an app. “You aren’t using a new ghost account, are you?”
“Dan, I told you I’m happy, healthy, and don’t need to ‘Get back out there,'” said Ryan McLennan looking helplessly at his phone, knowing that attempting to snatch it back would be both useless and childish.
“After Laura graduated, you barely leave the house, it has been six years and I don’t think you’ve been on a single date. Mom would want you to be happy you deserve a little companionship.”
“Danny is right; you shouldn’t just lock yourself up in this house. It isn’t healthy,” commented Dan’s wife Rose without looking up from the diaper she was changing on the living room floor. Baby Aaron squawked something that sounded like “thee”, his little arms and legs doing their very best to prevent his mother from changing his diaper without a messy souvenir.
“Listen the three of you. I am happy. I have a routine. Every day I get up, leave the house, go to the gym, stop at the market on my way home, eat breakfast, write for a few hours, watch a movie or an episode of a series, go for my run before dinner, which is sometimes at a restaurant, before closing out my day with a little time spent playing a video game, and twice a month my son and his family come to visit. I wouldn’t mind if my daughter called or stopped by more often, but her life is spinning up.” Ryan counted off the elements of his daily routine. He was happy and occupied. At fifty was in the best shape of his life. He had worked hard, invested better, and amassed a healthy nest egg that allowed him to retire from the rat race and spend his days pursuing his hobbies. “I don’t need to start dating, and all of those dating apps are only for meaningless hook-ups. Don’t you think it is a little weird to be throwing your father into a string of one-night stands?”
“Ew, Dad. No, they aren’t all that bad.”
“Actually, they are pretty much just for hooking up. But that wouldn’t be a bad thing; your dry spell needs to end,” said Rose.
“Babe, don’t go there.”
“Your father isn’t dead, Honey. Besides, I know for a fact that there are women out there that would go out of their way for a night with him.” Rose looked over her shoulder at her husband, smiling. “You remember the cookout last summer, the last one before Aaron was born? Well, when your dad was manning the grill, both Hailey and Allison couldn’t take their eyes off him. Hailey even referred to him as the ‘Hottest piece of meat’ at the cookout.”
“Dad, do you want a vote on your profile picture?” Dan held up the phone to his father. “I am thinking either the picture from Laura’s graduation, you know the one where you were actually smiling or the one at the dinner where we told you Rose was expecting. Which one?”
“Neither, I don’t need a profile. I don’t need to go on dates. I am happy living my life.” Ryan growled at his son.
“The dinner it is. Of course, I am biased because I took the picture.” Dan tapped the screen. “You are all set up.”
“You know I’m going to delete that as soon as you hand it back to me?” Ryan’s grin showed all of his teeth.
“You won’t,” said Dan holding the phone and admiring his handy work.
“Give me one good reason why not?”
“I will give you two. This is because deep down, you know we are right.” Dan held up a finger. “And because I paid for a three-month premium subscription, and you would hate to waste my money.” Dan waved the second finger at his father.
“That was low, son,” Ryan finally smiled; the boy knew him and which buttons to push. He was both proud and frustrated, which is how he had spent most of the years raising his son. “But that doesn’t mean I have to actually have to go on any dates.”
“True. But it might make me sad,” Rose said using a baby voice, hiding her head behind a giggling Aaron. “And Pop-pop wouldn’t want me to be sad.”
“Argh, I said, Grandpa. I refuse to be a Pop-Pop. Makes me sound like an old man in plaid pants pulled up to his chest.”
“Just promise if someone interesting shows a bit of interest that you will give her a chance,” Dan handed the phone back to his father. Almost the second the phone touched his hand, it buzzed with a new notification. “Ha! I knew you’d be popular! Let’s see what it says.”
Ryan looked at the screen and read the notification, and smiled. “Apparently, I can save 10% on my car insurance if I switch carriers. If I apply in the next hour, I will get a free tablet computer.” The three adults broke out into laughter while the baby giggled and waved his arms.
***
“No, no, no, not even a chance, no,” Ryan was flipped through the Direct Messages that had accumulated in the dating app his son had installed. He had promised to entertain the idea of dating if, and only if, someone interesting appeared. Ryan would keep that promise, but so far, the suggested profiles or those women that DMed him were as far from interesting as one could get. Maybe he was being too picky. Maybe he was saying no because deep down inside, no one would come close to replacing his wife. His Maria was just over six years removed from his life but not from his heart.
Hey sexy man, I would love to show you what a real woman can do for you. Ryan inspected the picture of what was supposed to be a forty-three-year-old woman, heavy makeup and a prominent Adam’s Apple put the message in the block category.
Interested in taking care of a lonely housewife for a few hours? Married equals ‘No Way.’
Recently Divorced Mum of two looking for a real man, interested? Why are they all so aggressive? There wasn’t one. “Hey, would you like to get together for drinks and chat?” It was all thinly veiled invitations for sex. Granted, he had to admit that he wouldn’t mind a roll in the hay. It had been a long time. He was still a living, breathing male. But it took more than an invitation. He wanted to be with someone that engaged more than just his cock. Maybe he was weird that way.
He was about to get on with his day when a new message arrived. He sighed and brought up the latest attempt at sex or at catfishing.
Do you work out at Universal Fitness 6 days a week? Not the typical message, it gave off some real stalker vibes. Well, he wanted interesting; this was the most interesting message he had received so far. He brought up the profile. SocialButterfly28 – blonde, blue eyes, employed as a Social Media Marketing Contractor, likes were pretty vague listing out books, movies, music, and working out. Under Dislikes – “Anyone that contacts me first” that made Ryan laugh, she appeared to be dead set on being the pursuer rather than the pursued. No tattoos, social drinker, no drugs, no smoking, and did not list her measurements. He looked at her picture. It was shadowy with an artistic flair and hinted at her features more than revealed them. She didn’t want anyone to really recognize her. Against his better judgment, he tapped out a reply.
My daily routine does, in fact, include a workout there on a frequent basis. Not sure if it is 6 days a week but that sounds right. He knew it was spot on but decided to attempt to be clever and elusive. If she wanted to be in control, he wanted her to work for it. The reply came almost instantly.
I knew it! My bestie and I work out there all the time. She saw your profile, we couldn’t believe it. Ryan checked the profile again, under age, it listed 28. He was a little disappointed, she was way too young.
Glad to help solve your mystery. He replied, expecting her to move on with her hunt.
It is so wild coming across someone you actually, kinda, know in the real world on this. Especially someone that you have admired from afar. She must have the fastest fingers on the planet or had been typing out the message before he had replied. Then another message appeared. I wouldn’t have expected you to use an app like this. I mean, finding a date should be really easy for you.
My son installed the app and set up the profile. He and his wife decided that I needed to get back out there. Honesty was always the best policy; he saw no reason to be cagey with his response.
Been single long?
A little more than 6 years.
Past time to get back on the horse. So, why haven’t you asked me out yet? Ryan sputtered when he read the last message. That was a little forward. I’ll let you in on a secret… I’ll say yes.
Don’t you think I am a little old for you? Rose had said that with all the working out he had been doing that he did not look his fifty-five years. So he wanted to give SocialButterfly28 an easy way out because she clearly overlooked his age.
What!!??? Too old to have a cup of coffee and chat about the weather? Hell, I regularly have a glass of wine with my great aunt, who is nearly 90 and she is a bawdy old broad. Fine. I will make this easier for you. I would like to meet you in person for a cup of coffee. We can meet at Brewed Cups across the street from the gym, friendly and neutral. No worries that I will be a forty-year-old guy that will rob you and leave you naked in a closet. Ryan laughed out loud when he read the message.
LOL… One problem, I don’t drink coffee.
Don’t be a smart ass and don’t make me beg… or at least not yet. She followed the statement with a smiley-face emoji with the tongue lolling out. Okay, Ryan thought, she is interesting; this should be enough to fulfill the promise to Dan. He would go for a drink, talk to the girl, and then that would be the end of this foolishness.
You’ve got a date. When would work for you? He tapped out the reply.
I would LOVE to say today, like right now, but alas, I have a project to finish up. So, it will have to be tomorrow. Say noon, if that works for you? Ryan agreed, it would throw off his routine a little, but it could be an interesting distraction.
***
Back in his late twenties, Ryan had fallen into bad habits that had carried into his middle years. His job was sedentary and required long hours that left him too tired to hit the gym. Food was whatever was fastest and closest, which, more often than not, was far from healthy. While he did not drink alcohol, he found stress relief in drinking sodas. Resulting in weight gain, a lot of it. He went from 170 lbs, when he was in college and super active, to 290 lbs. He had tried lots of fad diets and meal plans, nothing really worked. In his forties, when his son was in high school, before his wife’s diagnosis, Ryan decided enough was enough, he made changes. The soda was out, he thought about his food more strategically, most importantly, he started exercising. It started with walks around the block, then light jogging, but his knees complained too much about the stress. That led him to Universal Fitness; it was close to the house and advertised those low judgment, no pressure atmospheres.
Ryan was able to go in, balance cardio and weight lifting for an hour or so and get out without having to speak a word to another human being. He loved it. He designed a six-day routine and stuck with it and the pounds melted off of him. It took a little more than a year to reach his goals, but he did it and kept up with the working out. Now it was less about losing weight or even preventing fat gain and more about burning through the stress that life brought him.
He told his kids he was happy, and he essentially was, but every morning when he woke up, there was the cold empty side of the bed greeting him. The sight always brought memories flooding back to him. Some happy and full of joy. Some were just heartbreaking. Life was filled with ‘what if’ moments; every morning, those moments haunted him. Going to the gym and sweating away the depression was what kept him going. It kept him happy and focused.
A side effect of all of that working out was that he didn’t look his age or even close. True, he had a touch of gray in his goatee; there was also a shock of white in his light brown hair that had been with him since his teens, but on the whole, he could pass for a man in his thirties. The weather for the day claimed a hot summer day was in store for the area; even though he had a date and should make an effort to look his best, he couldn’t bring himself to dressing up too much. He pulled out a favorite Hawaiian shirt, a blue design that was understated and more geometric than floral, and a pair of gray cargo shorts. He was dressing for comfort, not to impress, and looking in the mirror at how his chest defined the shape of the shirt, he decided that it would do; if SocialButterfly28 didn’t like it, that would be fine with him too.
When Ryan walked into The Brewed Cup, he scanned the cafe looking for his date. It had occurred to him in the parking lot that she knew what he looked like; all he had to work with was an artistically shadowed picture and a vaguely female form and an implication that they go to the same gym. It struck him that he so rarely paid any attention to the other people in the gym that he would be surprised if he recognized anyone. He looked for a blond woman. He couldn’t even say if she was in fit shape or not; just because someone goes to the gym doesn’t mean they are fit. There are many phases to the fitness journey and experience. It would be stupid to make any assumptions at this point. He didn’t see anyone that rang a bell or could be the woman he was looking for; he approached the counter, reviewed the menu, and found a non-coffee beverage that would work. He ordered a large strawberry and pineapple smoothie, hoping they wouldn’t add a bunch of powders to plus it.
The girl behind the counter smiled at him when she handed the smoothie to him and wished him a good day. Ryan looked again at all of the tables, hoping his date would identify herself. None of the other patrons acknowledged his confused and lost look.
“Guess who…” a pair of cool, long-fingered hands covered his eyes and body pressed up against him from behind. He could feel a pair of breasts pushing into his back; he figured she was a bit shorter than he was, her breasts were on the fuller side, which, against his intentions, aroused his interest. The smell of coffee and pastries was chased away by what appeared to be a blend of a soft, light rose scent and clean, refreshing jasmine. The odor bordered on intoxicating.
“SocialButterfly28,” he stated.
“Right on one, that earns you a prize.” The hands disappeared; before his eyes could adjust, he felt a soft pair of lips brush his neck just under his right ear. “I think I might need to carry a ladder around with me; I was aiming for your earlobe.” The was a tinkling giggle that followed. Ryan turned to face his date.
Upon seeing her, he fought to keep his breath as he took her all in. Ryan had tried not to build a mental image and had by default created an expectation of average blond woman, average height, average weight, average bust, blue eyes hidden behind glasses (because most people wore glasses these days), pretty but not remarkable. In his mind’s eye, he and built the girl next door crossed with a late bloomer. His expectations were shattered. Her body no doubt inspired the wildest fantasies of both men and women, narrow waist perfect for holding on to, an ass that had the perfect amount of curve without being either too little or cartoonishly too much, legs that were toned to a millimeter of perfection, flat stomach, and breasts that had to be solid D-cups on a frame that made them seem on the larger side of ideal especially for a breast man, which Ryan was. Her face was lit by a contagious smile that caused her eyes to sparkle. She wore a light amount of make-up that seemed to enhance her beauty rather than craft and define a look. She was wearing a white summer dress with pink flowers that barely reached her knee and elegantly put her breasts on tasteful display.
Ryan wanted to pinch himself because there was no way this was actually happening to him. It had to be a joke or punk or whatever they called humiliating old men for TV these days. He wondered briefly how he could possibly be in the same building as her without noticing.
“Okay, now that you have thoroughly inspected the goods, care to buy a girl a drink?” She took his arm and steered him back to the counter where an order for a coffee-inspired drink was placed, an apple pastry was also purchased.
“Have you regained your ability for speech?” the vision before him asked.
“I believe I have quite recovered from my surprise,” Ryan replied, proud of the fact that he didn’t stumble over his words. However, his eyes did dart around the cafe looking for cameras or a cheesy host that would jump out with a stinger line about batting out of one’s league.
“Ryan, you can relax. This is all real. You and I are on a date. I promise you nothing weird is going to happen, that is unless you want it to. I can be pretty accommodating for the right person.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“I’m sorry. This is not going the way I expected; it’s taking my brain a few minutes to catch up.” Ryan took a sip of his smoothie to pause the moment.
“I totally get it. You were expecting either the mouse or the whore, and you got me.” She smiled again. “This is why I didn’t want to but a real picture of myself up on the profile. The scum I attract is unreal.” She took a sip of her coffee beverage and then added, “Now on to the important question before we go any further. Divorced or Cheating?” Her blue eyes glanced down at the wedding ring on his left hand.
“Excuse me?”
“I have a bet with my friend that needs to be settled. Are you Divorced and haven’t just taken the ring off? Or are you cheating and too stupid to remember to take the ring off?” She smiled again, but there was an icy chill to her questions that gave him the impression of the seriousness of the question.
“Neither.” It was his turn to catch her off guard. She almost dropped the pastry. “I am a widower who is kinda hung up on the past.”
“So I am competing with the memory of the love of your life. I think I can accept that.” She reached across the table and took his left hand in both of hers, looking directly into his eyes. “You keep that ring on as long as you need to. It tells me what kind of man you are, plus it will keep most of the vultures away from you. So, tell me, what does a hot widower do with his time these days? You still grinding away at the career?”
“Retired, recently actually. My daughter, who is my youngest, just finished college, there isn’t a need for me to keep working the 9-to-5, plus my old employer wanted to hire a bunch of youngsters and offered us old guys an early retirement package that was too good to pass up. Plus, we were smart with planning, retirement savings, investments, paid off house, and controlled expenses. It isn’t a lot, but it is enough to let me do the things I like.” Probably told her too much but honesty is always best. I’m not dumb enough to become her sugar-daddy no matter how gorgeous she is.
“I should talk to you about planning. I work as a contractor, so I end up paying for my own benefits. Come to think of it, I could use some advice on retirement planning. I mean, I am pretty good about saving money, but in the end, it just sits in a bank account, not doing anything. But we can save that for another time. Two things. I would like to hear more about what you do to fill your days but, and this is important, so pay attention; I would greatly appreciate it if you would stop referring to yourself as old. By using that word to denigrate yourself, thus building an excuse to not enjoy our date.”
“Okay, fair enough. I wouldn’t say I have a super interesting day. I get up and head to the gym, spend about an hour or so there, but you appear to know that already. Afterwards, I stop at the market if I need to; most days, I need to pick up something. Then at home, I make breakfast, then I write for a few hours. Then lunch…”
“Hold on. You don’t get to drop a nugget like that and move on. You write? What kind of writing do you do? Anything I might have read?” She leaned forward and apparently had lost interest in her coffee beverage.
“I doubt you’ve read any of my writing. It is mostly speculative fiction, which is a fancy way of making Sci-fi/Fantasy sound literary. I self-publish e-books. I don’t spend time marketing, so I don’t sell much, but I write mostly for myself.”
“Just because I have a pretty face doesn’t mean that I am not a bonafide geek girl and none of that Meyer’s crap either. I’ve read Jordan, Martin, Eddings, Sanderson, Goodkind, Hobbs, and Tolkien; thank you very much!”
“What did you think of Jordan?” Ryan had to admit that she was approaching the perfect woman benchmark if she had read all of those authors.
“Don’t change the subject. Your day may continue… but I expect you to forward me a link to something you have written. Then we can talk about Jordan.” She waved her hand for him to continue.
“Okay, okay. I write for a bit. Then lunch. After that, I will usually putter around the house, everything in its place, you know. Though, to be honest, the puttering is usually just to kill time and let my stomach settle from lunch because I like to go for a run in the afternoon. Sometimes I will take a kayak out, but usually, I do a short run. I sign up for a few 5k races every year and like to keep my endurance up, so I run between 4 and 5 miles a day. I’m not super fast. I don’t focus on beating others or anything like that; I like to set my own goals and focus on that.”
“What is your current time? I like to run, too.”
“My last 5k was 32 minutes. I would like to break 30 minutes.”
“Not bad. I have settled in at about 39 minutes for my last two races. But, to be honest, even the best sport’s bra can only keep these girls in place so well, after a while, I am fighting against my boobs and not the miles.” At the mention of her breasts, Ryan’s eyes drifted down to admire her display of cleavage. When his eyes came up, he discovered that she was staring at him and smiling. “Caught you looking. It’s alright. I picked out this dress to draw your attention. It’s working, and that makes me happy.”
“Well, anyway. After my run, I soak in a hot tub for a bit, shower, supper, then I either read for a bit, sometimes I’ll watch a movie, or even play a video game for a bit. Then sleep and repeat.” Ryan concluded. Part of him hoped that he had outlined a boring enough life to end this farce; another previously silent part hoped that she would find him a bit interesting.
“You skipped something interesting points like the hot tub, what you like to read, watch, and play. I am also noticing a lack of female companionship. Does that mean that you are currently super single?”
“Super single?”
“Some folks are single but are dating. I call them kinda single. Super single people are not dating at all. I, myself, am currently super single. I don’t do meat markets. I have developed very high standards.”
“But you were on that dating app? I can’t imagine you find many men that meet… well, any standards on that.”
“True. But I did find you, didn’t I? But your question is fair. My friend Emily, she is the one I go to the gym with – she has long red hair and likes to dress super skimpy when she works out. I’m sure you’ve noticed her,” she paused, looking at Ryan to have a moment of recognition. He shook his head apologetically. “She is not going to like that, ha. Half the time, she was trying to get you to notice her. That’s hysterical. Anyway… Emily is the one with the account; she was sliding through trying to find a date for a party when she saw your profile and freaked out. When she showed me, I created a profile so I could chat with you.”
“What? Why? I don’t get it?”
“Well, to be honest, I have been admiring you for a long time now, and believe it or not, I am pretty shy most of the time.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I am also pretty driven about getting what I want; that supersedes the shyness most of the time. So, I’ve been working up the nerve to say something but the ring is kind of a warning sign. So, when you showed up on the app, well, that was a signal of sorts.”
“Thus the bet on whether or not I was really single or if I was another scumbag.”
“Right.”
“Who won the bet?”
“At this point, I will say that I am the one who won. But then again, I think you’ll be coming out a winner, too.” She licked her lips without breaking eye contact with him and laughed when his cheeks began to color. “So, I’ve watched you from afar; your profile gave me the excuse and the means to do something about it. Thus, here we are.”
“You know, I just realized that I don’t know your name yet.” Ryan used the question to fill the silence as his brain worked through the fact that this very attractive, much younger woman was flirting with him.
“I think you’ve earned that much. Cynthia. Cynthia Smart.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Cynthia Smart.”
“Likewise, Ryan McLennan.”
“Wait, I didn’t tell you my last name.”
“Confession, I may have cyber-stalked you a little before our date. A girl has to be careful; there are some weird guys out there.”
“You’re not wrong, and I forgive you. Learn anything interesting in your cyber-stalking?”
“Not much, to be honest. Your socials are locked up pretty tight; otherwise, I would have known about your wife ahead of time. I didn’t know you had retired, but I did know that you had a pretty good career in various technology roles – developer, architect, project management, and instructor. It was interesting because it lined up with what I do. I work in social media marketing as a consultant for small and medium-sized companies. Those that don’t want to staff their own folks but recognize the need to have a presence.”
“Do you like the work?”
“Yes, I get to be creative, work in technology, and be of real help to my customers. It doesn’t hurt that I don’t have to go to an office or punch a clock. I pretty much make my own hours; it gives me a ton of freedom. The risk is high; at this point in my life, that is okay, thrilling even.”
“Technology adjacent career, reads fantasy (maybe sci-fi), works out, and likes to stalk strange men. What are the other interests of Cynthia Smart?” Ryan couldn’t help himself; he wanted to know more about this woman. He stopped himself from laughing when he realized that he was being drawn into her web.
“Let’s see. I do read little sci-fi, though I would say I prefer space opera over the hard stuff… well, hard science fiction, I do enjoy other hard stuff a great deal. I like movies, not just a specific genre; I think I could find something to enjoy in any genre. I do enjoy working out, I like being outdoors, but I prefer indoor activities. I love board games, not just the classics like Clue or Monopoly, but the big box ones like Twilight Imperium, Descent, and Gloomhaven. In high school and college, I played D&D. These days I, find it hard to get into a good group. I like the idea of traveling, but in the end, I prefer to stick close to home. Oh, and I like sex. I really like sex.” She placed a hand on top of one of his. “Do you like sex?”
Ryan coughed and felt the heat rise in his face, along with a stirring from below the belt. “Well, um, yes. I would have to say I do.”
“When was the last time you had sex?” She lifted her hand and traced random patterns with her fingertips across the back of his hand.
“Oh, that would have been almost six, no seven years ago.” Ryan and his wife had been highly sexual people; it had been frustrating when her drive seemed to disappear overnight. That had been the trigger that sent them to the doctor for all the tests that had found the tumor that had ended her life.
“That is a very long time. I haven’t had sex in just over three years.” Ryan sputtered at this revelation. “Not what you were expecting? Well, as I mentioned before, I am very picky. Or I should say, I am now very picky. But just because I haven’t had someone in my bed for three years doesn’t mean that I haven’t been exploring my needs in other ways. Have you?”
“Have I what?”
“Explored your sexual needs in ways other than having sex with another person?”
“You mean masturbation? Sure, I still do that on occasion.” Why was he telling her this; he would never imagine that masturbation would be a typical subject for a first date.
“When was the last time you took care of business?” Her fingers had drifted up his hand to his wrist; she had moved her chair to be closer so her hand could reach his forearm.
“I don’t know, maybe a month or so.” Of course, it had been closer to two months, but lines had to be drawn somewhere, right?
“Do you watch porn? Or do you play out memories or fantasies of your own when you touch yourself?” Ryan looked around the cafe to see if anyone was close enough to hear their conversation. Best as he could determine, they were far enough away from the closet customer, a woman with her teenage daughter chatting intently.
“A little of both, I suppose,” he admitted.
“Ooh, what kind of porn do you like? Do you go for the daddy step-daughter stuff?”
“No, nothing like that.” If he was honest, the fake-incest stuff was a massive turn-off for him. “I guess I just find something that I like in the moment, so a range of stuff pops up.”
“I’m sure it does. I don’t like the family stuff either; I can’t see why it is so popular. Or the whole “I’m stuck in the bed, or the couch trope. Stupid if you ask me. Then again, porn isn’t about the story, is it? I watch it sometimes when I touch myself.” She ran her fingers up and down his arm, elbow to wrist, her long fingers barely touching his skin. The hairs on his arm stood up; he felt more than a stirring in his shorts. Ryan had been caught off guard and wasn’t sure why. His inbox had been flooded with messages more direct and detailed than this, and it wasn’t as if he and his wife hadn’t been open with each other sexually. They watched porn together, skinny-dipped, had sex in public, used toys, role-played, and enjoyed each other. Now here he was feeling, like an inexperienced nerd touching a breast for the first time.
“When was the last time you touched yourself?” Ryan attempted to turn the tables on her.
“Last night, no porn. I did use a toy. I fantasized about you, wondering what it would be like to be in your arms, having you kiss me, touch me, pleasure me. I thought about the things I would do to you, too. Would you like to hear what I came up with?” So, much for turning the tables. Ryan had no idea what had just happened or, more importantly, why it was happening. The age thing hit him again. He was old enough to be her father; she was bolder and more aggressive than any woman he had ever met. Even his wife, who had been more the aggressor in the early days of their relationship, had waited a few weeks before confessing sexual desire for him.
“I think that can wait for now.”
“Pity, I came up with some good stuff.”
“You will have to excuse me, this is all really new for me, and I am having a hard time processing.”
“New? Do you mean having a woman tell you how much she desires you? Or that she wants to please you? Listen, Ryan, I am coming on pretty strong. I know that. The thing is, I have had a thing for you for a long time, three years or so. I’m not sure why, either. One day you held the door for me when I was entering the gym, you smiled, and it just lit up my world. I had been having a bad couple of weeks; you just smiled and made it all disappear. You didn’t leer at me or try to chat me up. You just smiled and held the door, didn’t even say a word to me. Every time I see you at the gym, I feel this weird connection, like we were in the same orbit, and it was only a matter of time until we crashed into one another. I don’t know what it all means, but I can say sitting across this table chatting with you has been the best first date I have ever been on, and I am so attracted to you that it almost hurts.”
“Wow,” was the only thing Ryan could say. He was both flattered and concerned that this young woman had piled a bunch of expectations onto an image of him that may not exist.
“I binged this show, How I Met Your Mother… Now don’t get ahead of yourself,” Ryan had been about to interrupt her. “Anyway, in like one of the first episodes, the main character goes on a first date, they have an amazing time and then tells his date that he loves her, right before they have sex. Of course, that killed the mood; who says something like that on a first date? You don’t know anything about the other person; love doesn’t happen like that. So, I want you to know that I am not saying that I love you or that I think I do. I am horribly attracted to you; I want to take you to my bed in the worst possible way. But that is a physical thing. I am also very interested in getting to know you. I have no idea where that leads, but there it is. So, you gonna let me rock your world?”
Ryan couldn’t help but laugh. He had seen the show and agreed with her assessment. He was also glad that she wasn’t crushing so hard that she was going to throw the word love around. “I think I would really enjoy letting you ‘rock my world'”
“I hear a but coming… if it is the age thing, that is not a problem for me. It is only a number. I also…” Ryan held up a finger to stop her.
“There is a but, not the age thing, though we will need to talk about that. The but is simple this. I am a bit old-fashioned. Even in my younger years, I never slept with anyone on the first date or the second, for that matter. It is a respect thing. For myself and my partner.”
“How many dates are gatekeeping me from all your tastiness?”
“Let’s see. The last woman I had sex with, well, we waited a month before jumping into bed with each other.” Ryan wondered if this would cause Cynthia to reconsider her infatuation. Instead, the breath-taking woman that sat across from him smiled in a way that made him want to take back his last sentence and take her back to his home right then.
“You know what they say about good things… they come to those that wait. So make it two months; I want you to be extra certain.”
“Two months of hanging around with this old fart, I am sure you will want nothing more than to find some young stud to shower your affection on to.”
“What did we say about that word? Last warning Mr. McLennan, I would hate for us to have our first date and first heated disagreement on the same day.”
“Ah, yes. I apologize. It slipped out. Turn of phrase and all of that.”
“Good, see that you do better in the future. Just a couple of little notes about the next two months. Don’t think that you can avoid me; I expect that we will see each other several times a week and be prepared to be teased like you have never been teased before. It also goes without saying, no touching yourself.” She grinned at him and licked her lips again.
“I think that should go for you, too,” said Ryan. He had no idea how hard the next two months were going to be.
***
Two days after his first date with Cynthia, Ryan found himself back at the gym working off a new version of stress. After their drinks were finished, Cynthia had taken his phone and entered her personal contact information, claiming that she didn’t have a lot of trust in the dating app’s privacy. She used his phone to upload his contact information to her phone and declared that they were officially connected. She ran off for errands and a business call; he salvaged the rest of his day by skipping his run and binging half a season of How I Met Your Mother, simply because she had mentioned it to him. That wasn’t where the stress was coming from. He was actually enjoying having her in his thoughts and imagining having her in his bed. He thought there should be more guilt involved with how easily he pictured Cynthia in various states of undress, but the guilt never presented itself, and that is what troubled him. Just before he had called it a night, he received a text from her.
I am getting ready for bed and wanted to say goodnight before getting caught up in my routine. I’ve been thinking about you all day, and I am SOOOO glad that we went out today. The message was followed by a pair of heart emojis.
O… I promise to be a good girl and not touch myself. Here is a little something to think about as you head to bed. A moment later, a picture appeared. It was a picture in silhouette displaying only the outline of her body posing in a doorway. Ryan had no trouble noticing that she was nude in the image.
Good night, Cynthia. You’ve defiantly given me something to think about. Ryan responded.
No, touching yourself!
I’ll be good.
A Kissy face emoji was the last text he received that night. The following day he found that she had already sent him a message. Another picture. This of a floral quilt with a sapphire blue bra and a matching pair of boy short panties. It was hard being good last night, but I managed. No, gym for me today. I have a meeting with a client. I will be wearing these and thinking of you. I wonder how wet I will get?
No gym for me either. I’ve got a family brunch. Ryan typed out the message and hit sent. He was surprised when a reply appeared almost instantly. He would have thought she was too busy to check her phone.
Are you going to tell them about me? I was saving this for later, but it could give you something to show off. A picture loaded of Cynthia standing in front of a fountain. She was dressed in jeans and a loose blouse. Her eyes were hidden by a pair of sunglasses. Her smile split her face radiating her joy frozen in a single moment. It was taken when I was visiting a friend in Florida last winter. I don’t mind if you show me off to your family.
I don’t think I will get away with not mentioning you to them; after all, my son created the profile you found.
Remind me to thank him. Gotta run, have a fantastic day! A chain of emojis followed the message. Ryan would have to do a little research to figure out if there were any hidden messages buried in the symbols besides the kisses and hearts.
Brunch had gone about as well as expected. He told Dan and Rose that he had gone on a date with someone he met on the app. No, they had not slept together. Yes, they would see each other again. Ryan was reluctant to share details beyond those and certainly not the picture. When asked what she looked like, Ryan replied. “A little shorter than your mother, blond, blue eyes, and I would call her pretty.”
That last bit was on the border of a lie, and he felt terrible about that, but he didn’t want to put himself through the barrage of questions that would come if he had said, “A little shorter than your mother, blond, blue eyes, and quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I have ever set eyes on.” When he was helping Rose clean up the dishes, he heard his phone chime a notification of a new message. He checked the message and almost dropped the phone into the sink of soaking dishes.
Cynthia has sent him a picture. It was a shot of her cleavage. The lighting was good, giving him incredible detail of her smooth skin and the brilliant blue of her bra, the same one that she had sent a picture of earlier that day. For the rest of the day, he received a steady stream of images. Nothing was fully exposed, but each and every one was titillating. No words or messages, just the pictures. He spent the majority of the day fighting his ever-present erections.
Now he was at the gym stepping onto the treadmill with the intention of running off the tension that was coursing through him. No message, no pictures, just a few miles of sweat. Then he would hit the racks and throw himself into a leg day. Those always left him exhausted. Exhausted is just what he needed to be. Just as he started the warm-up walk, a figure appeared next to him.
A young woman wearing a sports bra struggled to contain an ample chest for a top and a pair of black leggings that had transparent strips running down the outside of both legs. Her curly red hair was tied back into a messy ponytail. She stared up at him with green eyes that bore into him with a fierceness he wouldn’t have expected for such a pretty young woman.
“Good morning, Ryan.” She said after taking a sip from an oversized steel water bottle.
“Um, good morning.” Ryan tapped the machine to keep the pace at his walking speed.
“Cindy says this is a thing now, so I figure it is safe for me to chat. I mean, she did see you first and all. Girl-code, right?” Ryan had no idea what she was meaning and felt that it was safer to just keep his mouth closed. “So, she got you all wrapped up. Good for her. She is the best, and I mean that. Last guy did a bit of a number on her, but she’s been good pining after you. I kind of see it; you are tasty. I’m sure you can show a girl a good time. Well, not this girl; like I said, she’s got you all wrapped up, and I am not one of those girls that’d put her claws into someone uninvited.” Ryan’s brain spun and landed on a name.
“Emily?”
“Yes?”
“Sorry, I was just putting a name to the face.”
“I should thank you. I won a hundred bucks. I figured you were single; I told Cindy that if you were a cheater, you’d be chatting up all the girls, but I don’t think I have seen you say more than two words to anyone except Paul. Didn’t occur to me that you might have been gay; bad on me, I guess. But it all worked out. Your single, and that means Cindy owes me. Granted, she’ll just take it from all bets I’ve lost. But, hell, I think I owe her a grand or two by now. I am usually pretty awful with stuff but men. Well, I know men.” She smiled and cocked out her hip and glanced over her shoulder to lock eyes with a younger man that was eying her from across the gym. “See, I know men. Anyway, I wanted to say Hi. I also wanted to tell you to be good to her. Cindy is the best, and I hope you are too because that girl deserves the best, you hear me?”
“I think I am getting the message.” Ryan smiled; Cynthia had a good friend. Hard to follow but a good friend. “I will do my best. I don’t know and can’t promise where anything will end up. But I can promise I will be a gentleman.”
“Good. Maybe, if I’m lucky, Cindy will let you off your leash to play, but that is getting ahead of things; a girl can dream, though. I gotta get my burn-in, see ya, Ryan.” Emily flounced away toward a row of elliptical machines. Ryan just watched her go and admitted to himself that he enjoyed the view.
***
There is a moment when you are having an amazing dream where your subconscious gives you tiny warnings that you are, in fact dreaming and that reality was going to pull the rug out from under you, sending you cascading back into a world where you are a fifty-five-year-old widower, lonely and merely trudging forward with your life. The dream of a mind-numbingly hot twenty-something being attracted to you was just that, a dream. Being the rational adult he was, Ryan was keenly aware that the dream would end at any moment. But, being the responsible person that he was, he struggled to just accept the moment and enjoy it.
That had been the reason why that day in the cafe, he hadn’t thrown caution to the wind and taken Cynthia back to his bed. By making them wait, he was giving reality plenty of time to rear its head and wake him up from the dream. It had surprised him that she had added another month to the “wait for sex” window; deep in his mind, that rational voice pointed at that as proof that to Cynthia he was a passing interest, most likely to help her resolve a deep-seated issue with her father.
The flirting and teasing he expected to peter out once her interest faded. Instead, after the first month, there was no sign of any of it letting up. Things were intensifying.
He had kept his word, not that he had much of a choice, and arranged regular dates with Cynthia. At first, he had tried to keep the venues for each date as neutral and public as possible. But found that Cynthia would find a way to tease him to the brink of breaking no matter the activity. When they went kayaking, she had worn a bikini that showed more than it covered; it also showcased her natural ability to roll her hips seductively while dragging a kayak to the water’s edge. Horseback riding, she had worn jeans that appeared painted on with a plaid shirt that she had tied up displaying, her flat stomach, and more than a bit of cleavage. Every little comment she made whenever they were out carried a little innuendo, and after every date, she would offer to end the day with a quiet drink at her place. Which he would refuse because he knew that once inside her lair, he would have no strength to resist.
After a day at an art fair, he drove home after dropping her off at the tiny two-bedroom house she owned, which surprised him; he asked himself, would it really be that bad to say yes? What red-blooded man would continue to say no to a single night in that woman’s embrace. Was it the memory of his wife? He looked at his wedding ring and twisted it on his finger. What would Maria think of him chasing around with such a young girl? Would she make fun of him, in that loving way, for being an old fool thinking that Cynthia wanted anything more than a roll in the hay with a man that didn’t immediately jump into her bed? Was that what was going on? Was Cynthia playing this game because he had put himself on a shelf and said not until you finish your supper?
Ryan admitted that he did enjoy her company. She laughed at most of his bad jokes and made him laugh with equally bad jokes. He had found they had more to talk about than he expected. She had read most of the same authors, but more importantly, when he mentioned a book she had not read, she expressed an interest in getting her hands on a copy and being able to talk to him about it. Of course, if he didn’t know better, he would say that he was developing an actual relationship with her. Wasn’t that really the point of the waiting, though? Building a connection that would make the sex better and more meaningful? That was, after all, what he and Maria had done.
Month two was a little different because the weather was turning from summer to fall, and that always brought more than a few nights of random rain and thunderstorms. Which meant that dates were becoming more intimate. Dinners out became dinners in. They would sit together on his couch, watch movies together, and spend hours talking about the film.
One night he was preparing Chicken Keiv, which was a meal that he had used to seduce Maria into dating him, and Cynthia entered his house without ringing the doorbell.
“Heyho!” She called and tossed her car keys into the little bowl that sat on the table next to the door for that purpose. She was carrying a stylized backpack. “I hope you are ready to get your ass smashed!”
“Excuse me?” Ryan poked his head into the living room and saw her fiddling with the back of his TV. “Need some help with something?”
“No, my dear. I’ve done this a thousand times.” She bent over and shook her ass at him. “Unless you want to distract me, in that case, I could use a little help getting out of these jeans.”
“Nice try. Dinner will be ready in another twenty minutes or so.”
“Smells good; what are we having?”
“My world-famous Chicken Kiev, steamed green beans, and herb mashed potatoes. There is a bottle of an Australian Chardonnay on the table if you would like to pour yourself a glass.”
“Ooh, we are being fancy tonight; I didn’t even wear my nice jeans. These have holes everywhere.” He could hear her moving around the living room, then pouring herself a glass of wine. “I have a surprise tonight.”
“Thanks for the warning; I’ll make sure I leave time for a cold shower before bed.” Ryan was finding it easier to engage in the banter than to attempt to ignore it. Besides, it was fun, playful, and wasn’t that the point of ‘getting back out there’.
“Poor baby, all my teasing getting to you yet? I suppose I could call our waiting period over; it has been over a month, right.”
“I’ll manage, thank you.” Though having a nearly constant erection was wearing a bit thin if they ever ended up having sex, he was convinced that he would explode the very moment she touched him.
“Not, that kind of surprise. After dinner, I challenge you to a no holds bar Smash Bro tournament!” She entered the kitchen holding a glass of wine in one hand and a Nintendo Switch in the other.
“After supper then…” Ryan smiled. Both his son and daughter had been obsessed with that game, and it was one of the few activities that he was able to include himself in during their teen years. Countless hours had been spent in that living room battling his kids and, on occasion, their friends.
“That was fantastic,” Cynthia said, setting her fork down atop the plate. “I mean, that was drop-my-pants good. If we didn’t have this silly little pause going on, I’d be dragging you back to your bed right this second to show you just how much I loved that meal. You would be the perfect dessert.”
“I guess you’ll have to make do with attempting to kick my ass.” Ryan laughed and stood to clear the table. Cynthia stood and gathered up her plate, glass and headed to toward the kitchen. “Hold on there, missy. My house, you are a guest, and guests do not do dishes.”
The first night Ryan had invited Cynthia for dinner, this had been a sticking issue, and while it didn’t descend into an actual fight, there had been some growling about stubborn men from Cynthia’s corner. She stopped, looked over her shoulder, catching Ryan off-guard with a devious smile.
“Tell you what, you beat me in the first match, and I will let you do the dishes while I do my best to distract you. If I win, then I get to do the dishes, and you need to rub my shoulders while I do them. Sound fair?” She placed the dirty dishes back on the table. Ryan considered the offer and felt that no matter who lost, he would still be the one that would be losing.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Ryan led the way into the living room, cringing because he hated leaving a table covered in dirty dishes.
“Excellent. The match will be best of 3, no time limit, and I have all the characters unlocked, so pick whoever you like.” She skipped past him and turned the TV and game on, then handed him a controller. “Be prepaid to by owned…” she laughed.
Ryan stood behind Cynthia as she rinsed off food from the plates. He wasn’t sure how it had happened; the first round was over before he had even tested out the move set of his character. She had mocked him and confessed that she played almost every day and had even competed in a few online tournaments. The second round was longer, but only because he focused on avoiding her character; she ended up cornering him before he understood what was happening; his character had been launched off the screen.
“So, do you pre-rinse before you load the dishwasher?” Cynthia dropped the controller and walked into the kitchen, swaying her ass.
“This is going to be a long night,” Ryan had said before joining her.
Now he had his hands on her shoulders, using his fingers to tease out tension from her shoulders. She purred and pushed her ass back into him and ground it against his groin.
“I could get used to this. That should be a rule. Whoever cleans up the dishes gets a back-rub,” Cynthia sighed as his hands moved to the sides of her neck. “I think you like having your hands on me.” She pushed back against him; Ryan was sure that she could feel his hardness growing. “I think I like your hands on me.”
Ryan ran his hands from her neck, down her spin, to just above her ass. It pushed her away from him, at the same time enabling him to feel the shape of her. She moaned under his touch.
“Look, they are all ready for the dishwasher. Walk with me.” She bumped back at him and with his hands on her waist, led him over to the dishwasher where she loaded the rinsed dishes. “I always find it funny that we have dishwashers to clean our dishes, but we always wash them before we put them in. Seems a little counterproductive.” Ryan used his thumbs to massage the muscles at the tops of her ass. “But you know, if I get to have you doing that, I really don’t care.”
Cynthia placed the last plate in the dishwasher and spun in place, looking up at Ryan. In all of their dates, he had never been this close to her. They had held hands, there had been a couple of hugs that he had turned into side hugs, but now her breasts were pushing into his chest, his nose filled with the scent of her. She reached up with her hands, placed them on either side of his face bringing it down to hers. Her lips parted, meeting his in a gentle kiss.
Twice in his life, he had experienced the proverbial fireworks when kissing a woman. The first was the first time he had kissed Maria, standing next to her car as they parted after their third date. The second was this moment with Cynthia in his kitchen. The kiss didn’t burn with sudden or urgent passion, but it filled him with happiness and peace. His hardness throbbed and signaled that systems were suitable for turning up the heat if he so desired.
Ryan felt Cynthia shift in his arms; he noticed that she was lowering one of her feet back to the floor as she pulled away from him.
“Wow, that was just…wow,” she murmured. She tried to skip back and wobbled a bit and laughed, catching herself on the counter. “Okay, really, wow. It is funny; so many times I have seen the movies or the shows where the girl is kissed by her beloved, and her foot lifts up classic trope. I never thought or imagined that would actually happen. I didn’t even notice.” Ryan was glad that she was talking; he wasn’t sure he could form any words. What did the old song say, “took the words right out of my mouth while she was kissing me.”
“Next match. Winner gets a foot rub. Best out of 5!” Cynthia slapped his ass as she shimmied past him.
The rest of the evening was spent playing, Ryan usually losing and providing massage services for Cynthia’s feet, hands, neck, shoulders, and back. At the end of the evening, she collected her keys from the bowl, “I’m leaving the game here; you practice and get better. It would be nice if I got to rub you a bit.” She leaned up and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth; he felt the tip of her tongue dart out and caress his lips as she pulled away from him.
When the door closed behind her, Ryan losing time staring at the door, lost in his thoughts of what was happening to him. “Two more weeks.”
***
“Two whole months to the day. You know, I didn’t think we would make it.” Cynthia said while she sliced a tiny bit of steak from her fillet. They were sitting in a moody corner of a classic steak house complete with white-coated servers. The restaurant had wrap-around windows that provided a view from the 14th floor of a hotel that had earned and aggressively maintained its five-star rating. Cynthia was wearing a little black dress that hugged her curves and enhanced rather than displayed her features. Her hair was up, and as usual, her make-up was gently applied to draw out her beauty. Ryan knew that she would be dressed to kill but had not expected her to take the phrase literally. Unfortunately, the valet at the hotel was caught so off guard that the poor man stepped back into a car that was just pulling in. The man was lucky that the car was already stopped when he sat back on the hood.
“What do you mean?” Ryan had just been thinking the same thing, but most likely not for the same reasons. When he first saw her in that cafe, he had thought he had landed in the middle of a joke, and over the last eight weeks, he woke every morning expecting the laughter to start. But, instead, each morning, he had been greeted by a text from this beautiful young woman reminding him that something extraordinary had entered his life.
“You’ve shown remarkable restraint. Emily, for all of her knowing men talk, thought you would jump me that first week. Not that I would have minded, but I am proud that we made it; this time, I won the bet.”
“You two were betting on whether or not we would have sex before two months?”
“We have quite a few bets going on. It started back in college; it was our way of pushing each other. Granted, it started off with stupid stuff that both of us regret a little, but these days it is mostly stuff that ends up being good.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Let’s see. She didn’t think we would make it the first week, then it was the first month. Then she bet me that you would be the first to initiate a kiss; it was a little unfair to take that bet because I had too much control. The big one right now is who will cum first tonight. I bet on you, she thinks you will send me to the moon first. Also feels a little unfair because I have a ton of control.”
“Is that so?”
“Oh yes, when I get you back in the car, I fully intend on taking advantage of you. I love the control giving head gives me. It gets me really turned on.” Ryan smiled, allowing her to think he was looking forward to having her go down on him while he drove them back to his house. She didn’t know that he had taken a room at the hotel and that they wouldn’t be leaving in his car for at least another two nights.
Somewhere over the last few weeks, if Ryan thought about it, he would have put his finger on the night they first kissed. But, instead, he had decided to not overthink things too much. She had made it clear that she was attracted to him; the age thing or even the life stage issue didn’t appear to enter into the calculus of her feelings. Sitting across from her at that moment, he could admit to himself that he really didn’t care about the differences either. He enjoyed her company not because she was devastatingly beautiful but because she brought light and laughter into his life. She talked to him about books, movies, tv shows, music and wasn’t afraid to disagree with him. She enriched his life.
Ryan was looking forward to surprising her for a change. “Well, we will have to see about that.”
“You think you have a choice in this? You’ve made me wait all of this time, and you think I won’t tear those pants off you the second you get into your car? Mister, you have no idea what you are in for tonight.”
“I think you will find that this night will be full of surprises for both of us.” Ryan’s eyes blazed with the passion and desire that had been building within him. He saw her shiver under his gaze; his smile broadened. He noticed that Cynthia not too subtly picked up the pace in which she attacked her steak. He grinned and kept his leisurely pace as he worked on his ribeye and made a show of savoring every bite.
“Would you like to see the dessert and coffee menu?” the waiter asked moments after Ryan finished the last piece of the perfectly prepared steak. Cynthia had finished hers and was fiddling with her fork.
Ryan said, “Yes, please” at the same time, Cynthia said, “No, thank you.”
Ryan looked at the waiter, “The lady has spoken, so we will just take the check, please.”
“Are you trying to drive me crazy?” Cynthia said as soon as the waiter had left the table.
“Not yet; trust me you, will know when I start teasing you.”
“SO, now you start playing the game. You waited long enough.” It felt good to play with her. The check arrived and was paid. Cynthia didn’t even wait for Ryan to finish signing before she was out of her chair. Ryan stood, and Cynthia hooked her arm through his, leaned in, then whispered into his ear.
“I am looking forward to wrapping my lips around your hard cock,” she licked his ear before snuggling into his side as he led her to the elevator.
Ryan reached into his pocket and produced a card, inserted into a slot situated above the bank of floor buttons. While the card was inserted, he pressed the button labeled “P.” Cynthia looked at him, the question forming on her lips.
“We have the penthouse for the next three nights. What can I say? I splurged a little.” The elevator shot upward; after coming to a halt, the doors opened onto a small foyer. Ryan guided Cynthia to the double doors before them and used the key card to open the doors.
Just beyond the doors was a spiraling staircase that led to a second level. Before them was a sunken circular sitting space with a couch that could seat at least ten people with room to spare. To their left was a fully stocked bar and a small kitchen area. Hanging from the ceiling was an enormous chandelier composed of hundreds of tear-shaped crystals. The windows stretched from the floor to the ceiling of the second floor and provided a glittering view of the city lights below and the moon’s soft glow above.
“What do you think?” Ryan asked.
“It is not what I expected,” Cynthia stepped into the room and spun in place to take in the space. “I’ve never stayed anywhere like this.”
“Good, I was hoping to give you a first.” Ryan stepped up behind her placing his hands on her waist, and pulled her close to him. He kissed her neck, sucking lightly on her flesh. “Now, I want you to take your dress off.”
Ryan stepped away from her, backing away, giving her room to move and providing him the best view. Cynthia arched an eyebrow at him and made to step toward him, stopping when he held a finger up to her.
“I want you to take your dress off, right there.” There was a firmness in his voice that he had not expected. Underneath the uncertainty that had been shattered by their time together was a burning desire with him, and the fire threatened to consume him.
She smiled at him and reached behind her back, twisted her eyes as she felt for the ties that held the back of her dress together. “This would be easier with a little help.” Ryan watched, his eye devouring her every move. Finally, she released the ties, pulled at the shoulders, causing the dress to fall from her shoulders, a bit of tugging and shimming was required to work the dress around her breasts and hips. When the dress puddled on the floor beneath her, Cynthia kicked with the toe of her shoe, sending the dress to the couch.
“What do you think?” Cynthia asked, turning in place, showing off the black lace bra and matching thong. “Though I think you have seen me in less.”
“Stunning, I agree your bikini does cover slightly less.” Ryan crossed back over to her and ran his hands over her exposed shoulders, down her arms, and to her legs. “Don’t move,” he whispered. She nodded to him.
He stepped behind her, dragging his hands across her body as he moved, carefully avoid the lace-covered parts. Finally, he reached up to the clasp of her bra and carefully released it with both hands guiding the hooks apart. He wasn’t interested in being suave and skilled, snapping his fingers and having her bra fly apart. He wanted to enjoy the moment; he wanted to take his time. He pulled the straps off her shoulders, down her arms, then tossed the no longer needed undergarment to the couch. He was pleased that it landed next to the dress.
Ryan fought the urge to spin her around and consume her exposed breasts. He was a breast man; after all, instead, he ran his fingers up and down her spine, enjoying touching the skin that had been shielded by the straps of the bra.
After exploring her back, shoulders, and neck to, his satisfaction, he slid his hands down to the strings of the thong, hooked his fingers, then peeled it off of her. She helped by stepping out of the loops when he reached her feet.
He tossed the thong toward the bra and dress before running his hands up her legs as slowly as he could. He closed his eyes, forcing his fingers to memorize her curves. He reached her ass and enjoyed the feel of her smooth contours.
Ryan could hear and feel the deepening of Cynthia’s breathing. Every new touch seemed to cause a shiver across her skin. He moved in close behind her, pressing his clothed body against her naked back. He wrapped his arms around her, allowing his fingers to find the tops of her breasts, tracing the shape of them down over her areolas, finally to brush lightly across hardened nipples. She gasped, her knees buckled. Ryan caught her before she fell and lifted her into his arms like a groom carrying his bride across the threshold.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. The passion she released on him in that one kiss threatened to knock him off his feet. She broke the kiss, eyes glazed and breath heavy. “Take me to bed, Ryan. Please.” She kicked off her shoes. He carried her to the stairs and began climbing, stopping only when she kissed him.
The master bedroom of the suite was dominated by a king-sized situated atop a padded platform. Ryan stepped up on the platform paused to enjoy another blistering kiss planted on him from Cynthia. When they broke, he tossed her onto the bed. She laughed when she bounced across the comforter, her legs flailing in the air. Ryan jumped on the bed next to her, a youthful burst of energy coursing through his veins. He lifted himself up on his arms, looking down at her. He leaned in a kissed her lips while he allowed a hand to explore her body.
Ryan broke the kiss, then without pause, he kissed her cheek, jaw, then proceeded to kissing and nibbling a path down her body, visiting her neck, collar, breasts, belly, hips. He detoured around her pussy, knowing that he would be visiting that glorious location soon enough, and showered attention down one leg to her feet. He teased her toes and enjoyed the sound of her laughter when he tickled the bottom of her foot.
“Oh, Ryan. This is not going the way I thought it would. It is so much better.” Cynthia moaned when he worked his way up her leg, kissing the inside of her thighs. Then, at last, he returned to her pussy and studied it between kisses placed carefully near its border. She wasn’t shaved entirely smooth, which he liked; she trimmed and shaved her hair into a neat thin triangle shape. He wanted to laugh because it looked like her hair was pointing the way, “The clit is here.”
“You love to tease, don’t you?” she writhed under him while he moved his tongue closer and closer to the lips of her pussy. The moment he dragged the tip of his tongue across the little nub at the top of her pussy she squealed; her legs twitched and the rest of her tensed.
“Damn you, damn you, damn you, you amazing man.” She banged her hands on the bed next to her. “I just lost a thousand dollars!”
“That easy? Wow, and I haven’t even gotten started yet.” Ryan knew better than to talk a big game. He knew that the moment the tables turned, he would be exploding with no effort. Until then, he would take advantage of the moment. He sucked on her clit, holding her legs so she couldn’t squeeze him out.
“Sensitive, oh my, oh my GAWD!!!” her body jumped as if an electric current had just passed through her. Ryan didn’t pause; he kissed, licked, sucked at her through the peak of the orgasm and beyond.
“Not fair!” she gasped.
“Do you want me to stop?” has asked between nibbles.
“Don’t you dare!”
Ryan used his lips, tongue, and fingers to bring Cynthia to climax two more times before she flapped her hands down to his head, gripped his hair, and tugged. “No more, no more.” He looked up her body to see her looking down at him. The sheen of sweat the covered her naked skin, he thought, made her more beautiful than any make-up ever could.
He rolled from between her legs and moved up the bed to lie next to her. She looked at him and commented, “You still have your clothes on.”
“I do.”
“Not for long,” she moved with speed that he hadn’t expected and straddled him. Her fingers attacked the buttons on his shirt. “I like this shirt, so I won’t just rip through the buttons.” She reached down between them and unfastened his belt and pants, then rolled to the end of the bed, removed his shoes, and yanked his pants off his legs. “This is taking far too long..” She exclaimed, looking down to see his open shirt revealing his undershirt and missing pants leaving tented boxers.
Ryan leaned upon his arms, moving to pull his shirt off. “No. My job.” Cynthia then grabbed the bottom of his undershirt and pulled it and his dress shirt over his head before pulling his boxers down and off his body. She looked down and licked her lips. “I am going to enjoy this.”
Ryan wanted to apologize for how fast he was going to cum; he wanted to make a comment about how he knew that his cock wasn’t the longest or thickest in the world. Maria had always told him his equipment was perfect for her, and she didn’t wish for even the slightest change. But he always felt that he could use a little more length or girth, logically he knew he was on the higher end of normal, but years of porn always left him thinking that he was on the smaller side.
Cynthia didn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, she took his hard cock in her cool fingers and started stroking, not aggressively but with intent. “I should take my time with this; you deserve to be teased a little. But I am feeling greedy. She bent down and took his length into her mouth.
He groaned as she swirled her tongue around the head of his cock while sliding it in and out of her mouth. Ryan would have liked to have lasted longer, but with all the teasing, the excitement of going down on her, combined with the reality that it had been more than six years since his cock had been in someone’s mouth, he was already feeling pressure building.
“I’m getting close,” he warned.
She paused her oral ministration, looked up at him locking her blue eyes on his, “Good, give it to me. All that you have, I want to feel you explode in my mouth; I want to taste your seed.” She took him back into her mouth, using her hand to assist in stroking his length.
Ryan inhaled sharply and bit down on the groan that boiled up in him.
“Let me hear you, don’t be afraid; I don’t care who hears me pleasing my man.”
He let go and moaned louder than he had since the early years of his marriage. He grabbed hold of the bed, his back tensed just before the volcano erupted. He pulsed and throbbed once, twice, thrice before he succumbed to feeling figuratively and literally drained. Cynthia licked the head of his cock, cleaning up the last pearls of his cum sending aftershocks through him.
“I would call round one a success; what do you think, lover?” Ryan took hold of her and pulled her up to him, and kissed her as hard as he could, his tongue pushing past the momentary resistance of her lips. The flavor of her mixed in his mouth with the traces of his own orgasm.
“Success, yes.” He said when they parted. He noticed a heat burning in her cheeks and flush across her chest.
“You curl my toes when you do that.”
“Good, I was trying to.”
“Wait, right here. I’ll be back.” Ryan rolled off the bed and padded across and out of the room. He returned with a covered tray. “You know this worked better in my head.” He placed the tray on the bed, then waggled a finger at her. “No peeking.” He left the room; this time, when he returned, he carried a silver bucket with a bottle of champagne chilling within and a pair of glasses.
“Time for half time,” he popped the bottle open and poured for both of them.
“You do know how to make a girl feel special,” Cynthia took a sip from her glass and smiled over the lip of the glass.
“I do my best.” He removed the tray’s cover revealing two bowls. One filled with large red strawberries, the other with whipped cream. He took one of the berries, dipped it in the cream before bringing the treat to her lips.
“Mmmm, I love strawberries and cream,” she bit down on the berry. Juice dripped down her lips before falling down to her chest. “I guess you can’t take me anywhere.” She reached over to the tray toward the linen napkin only to have her hand brushed away. Ryan leaned in and licked the trail of juice off her chest and used his tongue to clean her lips.
“So, that is how this game is going to be played.” She took a sip of the champagne, set the glass aside on the night table next to the bed, took up a berry, and used it to scoop up a generous amount of cream. She brought the berry to Ryan’s open mouth, and just before he could take his bite, the berry “slipped” from her fingers and tumbled down his chest and to his lap.
“Aw, look at this mess.” Cynthia was very thorough in cleaning up the cream and berry juice from Ryan’s body. The berry itself was located and shared between them but not before Cynthia had used it to smear cream across the head of Ryan’s cock, which was licked clean.
Cynthia moved the tray and crawled into Ryan’s lap when the berries and cream were eaten, pressing her breasts into his chest. They kissed and touched; between them, Ryan’s cock, which had already recovered, twitched with anticipation. “I can’t wait any longer, Ryan. I need to have you in me.
“I think I can fulfill that request.”
“You better.” Ryan pushed her back down onto the bed and leaned over her. She snaked her hand between them, taking hold of him guiding him to her wet and ready pussy. They both moaned when Ryan pushed his hips into hers plunging his cock into her.
“So good,” she moaned.
“Mmmm,” was Ryan’s only possible response. He took hold of her legs and lifted them up, allowing for him to push closer into her, his balls slapping against her ass as he found a rhythm that was between gentle loving and a pounding fuck.
Her moans filled the room, her eyes locked on to his; she pushed with her hips to encourage the pace they had set.
“Ryan, my pussy was made for your cock. It fits so perfectly. My God, I love it.” The words came out broken and separated by the slapping sound of their bodies.
“I am yours, always yours.” She moaned as pleasure broke across her. Ryan slowed his pace; his own pleasure would be coming but not yet; he didn’t want to steamroller her experience.
“Please don’t stop; keep going!” She bucked against him, communicating that there was no need for him to slow. He picked up his pace and thanked God that he had been hitting the gym and building up his endurance.
“I want to ride you,” she wrapped her arms around him and tried to roll them over. He laughed and helped her rearrange them without disconnecting. “That’s the spot.” She murmured as she rolled her hips into him.
Ryan enjoyed watching her ride him; he loved how her breasts bounced and how she tossed her hair when it annoyed her. In this moment, he realized that he wanted this woman to be in his life. He didn’t know what to call the emotion he was feeling, but he knew that he would embrace it. So he reached up and put his hands on her breasts; he massaged them, enjoying the feel of their weight in his hands.
“Oh, yes. Play with my tits. Squeeze them harder! I won’t break.” He followed instructions well, and she was soon shaking and cumming for the second time on his cock. “My God, Ryan! I am yours and will never be anyone else’s” Her movements stopped; she wavered over him, her eyes lost focus as orgasm passed over and through her. Ryan rolled them onto their sides and studied her face while she recovered.
“That was the best I have ever felt,” she said, kissing his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Happy to be of service.”
“Now you need yours,” she growled at him. She got up on her hands and knees and looked over her shoulder at her ass. “Take me, big boy, and don’t you stop until you have filled my pussy with your cum.”
Ryan got behind her, lined up his cock with her pussy, and thrust. She moaned and bucked back at him. He put his hands on her hips and used them to control the pounding pace that he was setting. As he picked up the urgency with his thrusting, Cynthia was moaning continuously. The sensations of her wrapped around him, the sounds of the moaning, and the sight of her very perfect ass bouncing into him lit the fuse. He could feel his orgasm building, his cock swelling, an electric surge building behind his eyes.
“Do it! Fill me up. Make me your woman, forever.” Ryan did as he was told.
Ryan and Cynthia collapsed into the bed, crawled up to the pillows, and curled into each other.
“Ryan?”
“Yes, dear.”
“I like you calling me that. It wasn’t just passion or the moment. I am yours.” Ryan heard the words and allowed them to accept them.
“I am yours,” he replied; she snuggled into him. Moments later, he heard her breathing slow and deepen. His mind ran through all of the reasons why this was a bad idea. He had thought about them a lot over the last two months. But, every one of them meant nothing to him now; he was happy.
* * *