by Gabbi Wright
Those words sound like he’s speaking from experience. I reach across the table and grab his strong hand. He doesn’t pull away. He stares at my fingers and licks his lips. There’s a scar running from his knuckles to the back of his wrist.
I want to ask him what dreams he ran from, what he sacrificed for the military. It would be a cruel question. Unless, perhaps now, he’s ready to pursue it. Instead, I ask, “What’s this from?” I trace the scar with a finger.
“Piece of shrapnel,” he replies, “During the Gulf War.”
“Yikes, did it hurt?”
“Oh, not as much as some of the others.”
“Others? Just how many scars do you have?”
He laughs. “There’s a lot.”
“And you still kept doing it?”
“Sure, it’s all I’ve known. I’m good at it.”
“But weren’t you scared? Almost dying?”
He leans back, slipping his hand from mine. He stares briefly at the ceiling, before back at me. “Oh, at first, but after a while you realize you keep surviving. You learn how to keep yourself going. There’s always some fear, I guess. But you learn to ignore it, bury it. You turn yourself over to your training, and it keeps you going. It keeps your head in the game.”
“I don’t know, I think if my job gave me a scar like that I’d resign.”
“If PR gives you scars like I have, I’d contact OSHA. Do you work tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I groan. I honestly don’t want this date to end. It’s nice to finally talk to somebody that’s genuinely interested in me, and it’s fun to talk to somebody with completely different life experiences than I. He’s a beautiful mystery waiting to be explored.
“Let’s get you home then.”
Although I hate for the date to end, it’s not like he’s going far.
He’s great company, and I haven’t felt so relaxed around a guy in such a long time. What would it hurt if we continued to do these little dates?
Chapter 9 - Lance
What if we were to continue doing these little dates?
It’s nice to have somebody so comfortable with my company, and I have to admit, I feel a lot of pride to be seen with somebody so attractive. I wonder what goes through her mind to be seen with a guy like me.
I wonder if she sees this as a real date, or rather as going but with a friend…
Or worse. Somebody like an uncle or father.
Guys her age can get friend zoned. I’m not sure the same zone applies to guys with a broader age gap.
I’ll take this night as a win, no matter what. I never expected even something as simple as this date.
It’s well past dark when I take us home. You’d think not being able to stare directly at her would make it easier to get her off my mind, but even just seeing her in the passing headlights of other cars out of my peripheral vision is enough to make me desire her more.
Oh, if she had any idea of the thoughts going through my mind, these new fantasies that haunt me, and how much I desire her. The thoughts of what I want to do to her.
The drive is too short.
In some ways not short enough.
“Here we are,” I say, pulling into my driveway.
“Thank you,” she says, “It’s nice to get out of the house again with someone. I had a lovely time.”
She leans over and kisses me on the cheek.
It’s a nice gesture, I suppose. Not nearly as nice as our first kiss.
It’s late. I’ve got a few beers in me from the restaurant. I’m not a guy that needs courage.
Tonight, though, those extra beers have made me brazen.
I reach up and place my hand against her cheek.
Her breath catches. I lean in for a real kiss.
Not the kind of kiss that involves a tongue forced down her throat, but no, I go for the lips.
It’s the kind of kiss that makes her have to choose, either go with it, or consider never seeing me again because I was too forward.
She pulls back a little, caught off-guard, and I think, ‘Well, that answers that question.’
But then just as I’m about to apologize, she leans in and meets me.
It’s more than just her meeting me halfway, she nearly climbs into my lap.
Her lips are hot against mine, passionate, her fingers against my chest.
I wrap my fingers around behind her neck and pull her in close, holding her tight against me. I’m so hard for her I could take her now, here in the truck.
Eventually she pulls away, and presses her forehead next to mine, just breathing. One of her hands falls innocently into my lap, brushing against my cock.
I think it’s innocent. Until she’s running the back of her fingers along it.
Not innocent at all.
“Would you like to come inside?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says.
She’s my neighbor, she’s gorgeous, young, and deserves somebody so much better than me.
But she’s said yes, and I sure as hell can’t say no.
Chapter 10 - Dina
I walk next to Lance up to his front door. I can hardly believe what I’m doing. I know he wants me; I’ve seen it in his eyes all night. And his genuine attentiveness has really endeared me to him.
And in his truck, I felt his desire for me rising between his legs.
I shouldn’t enter his house.
But it’s too late for what I shouldn’t do. All I care about tonight are my wants.
His house is more organized now than before. He’s unpacked.
“Want a drink?” he asks.
No, I don’t want a drink. “Sure,” I say instead.
He goes to the fridge and I expect him to grab us beers, but instead he pulls out a bottle of red wine.
He pours us each half a glass.
It’s sweet, sweeter than I usually like. I feel it go instantly to my head.
It’s very hot in here.
He takes my now empty wine glass from my hand.
My god, I slammed it. There’s barely a drop left.
He sets the glasses own on the kitchen counter.
Lance moves in front of me, reaching up and placing a hand against my cheek. I can hardly draw a breath. He stares into my eyes, his eyelids heavy with desire. He leans in to kiss me, slowly, with maybe a little hesitance, as though I might push him away.
I reach up and put my hands on those broad shoulders.
When he leans in to kiss me, I’m waiting for him.
His desire presses against me, and he’s so big and hard, and I’m quivering, hungry to feel him – inside me.
I’m pressed against the wall as his mouth explores mine, as his hands explore my chest, gently squeezing my breasts and sliding down to my thighs.
I moan, as one hand slides under my shirt, finding skin. His other hand has already unbuttoned my pants, sliding along the elastic of my panties and sliding inside, cupping my bush. Sliding lower, to cup my pussy.
My hands find their way under his shirt, running over his belly and up to his chest. His body is a combination of soft and hard. There’s a lot of strength to him, and I have a thing for men with a bit of meat on their bones.
I involuntarily gasp as he presses a finger against the wet folds of my pussy, penetrating just a bit, just enough to tease my clit.
“Oh fuck,” I say, as he ignites my needs for him, increasing my desire tenfold. I want him inside of me. More than a finger. More than a tongue.
He releases me, pulling away, and takes my hand. He leads me down the hall.
Oh my god, I think, this is it. He’s taking me to his bedroom.
I allow myself to be led willingly.
I’ve never been with an older man before, certainly not one that’s twice my age. The gap is significant, but not for my desire.
He has an aura of violence to him, and he’s got the eyes of a man whose seen things, yet he exhibits only gentleness towards me, even with the urgency of his desire. I don’t feel in danger, I f
eel as though this man will protect me from anything.
His room is simple, but with a large king-sized bed. It is not the sloppy, thrown together room of younger men, but that of one who takes pride in his surroundings.
We pause at the foot of his bed. He runs his hands behind me and says, “I want you, Dina. I want all of you.”
I squeeze my thighs together to keep my legs from quivering.
“I want you too.”
He pulls my sweater off over my head, and he does not fumble with the bra clasp. I admit, I’m a bit curvy. My breasts are more than a handful, even for Lance’s large hands. He cups them gently, and kisses down my chest to a nipple, and teases it with his tongue.
His mouth ignites an almost electric shock as his very touch turns my entire body into one big erogenous zone.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say.
“Do you want to stop?”
“Hell no.”
I unbutton his shirt and slide it from his shoulders. He unbuttons his pants, letting his jeans fall as I drop mine.
His cock juts between us like a force of nature, his desire for me apparent and eager.
“Get on your knees,” he says.
I comply, dropping to the soft carpet. His cock looks thick and massive in front of my face. I lick its length and stroke it, smiling as I hear him moan with pleasure.
I show him what I can do, taking it wetly between my lips, pleasuring him.
I could bring him to climax if I wanted, but I hope for more. I need more.
After a minute of pleasuring him, he strokes my hair and says, “Come on, I need you,” echoing my own thoughts.
He kisses me as he backs me up to his bed.
I fall across the sheets as he follows me down, mouth chasing after mine.
I reach for his cock, to guide him in, but he moves away, kissing down my chest, kissing down my stomach and to my lightly trimmed bush.
He doesn’t stop there, nor do I let him. I run my fingers through his hair, and push him down, until his mouth finds my wet cunt.
As his tongue makes long and smooth strokes, tasting me, I thrust my hips up, pressing my clit against his lips.
It doesn’t take much before I’m quivering against him, half-laughing, half-screaming, as I orgasm.
His hands slide beneath my ass, pressing me hard against his face. He doesn’t pull away as I ride his mouth, climaxing.
Just when I think I’ve got myself under control, he renews his cunnilingus, sucking in on my clit and teasing it with his tongue, setting off another round of fireworks within my head.
He lifts up and dries his chin on his sheets.
“Oh fuck,” I say, “That was almost spiritual. Get up here.”
Lance pauses only to slide on a condom.
He kneels between my legs and runs his cock against my pussy. So help me, I’m still trembling, he’s got me so sensitive, he could tease me like this and I think I’d still cum.
He pushes that thick cock into me, slowly, taking his time. Stretching me open. I’m so wet, I take him easily.
He remains upright, thrusting forward, arms about my legs, pulling me tightly toward him as he pushes deeper.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice low with desire, deep with lust.
His words sound so honest. He makes me feel beautiful as he takes me, connecting us.
I reach up and pull him down on top of me, to find his lips.
He supports his weight on his elbows as our mouths meet. He’s gentle at first, but as his thrusts quicken, we both are a tangle of limbs and jousting tongues.
I grind hard against him as he thrusts deep, driving in hard. As he grunts in pleasure, I wrap my arms about him and dig my nails into his back.
He’s a big guy, and not just in bulk. He fills me completely, and as he cums, so do I, the two of us climaxing together.
As we collapse next to each other, with me tucked within his arms and head on his shoulder, all I can think of is that everything’s perfect, and that we belong together.
Chapter 11 - Lance
Dina falls asleep in my arms. I don’t move in fear that I’ll awake her. Right now, all I want to do is hang onto this moment, and her, for as long as I can.
This isn’t normal for me, to have somebody as perfect as her choose me, if only for a night. She’s a young thing, and I don’t deserve her.
I don’t know if she’s going to want me in the morning, and I hope she doesn’t have any regrets. I don’t.
I wanted her, I fantasized about her, and now that I’ve had her, I want her again. I want her to belong to me. And I want to belong to her.
Maybe our age isn’t a problem. Maybe this is real, maybe not.
Right now, nothing is more real.
It’s going to be hours before I fall asleep. I hope my nightmares don’t wake her when I do finally succumb to slumber.
Chapter 12 - Dina
I awaken in his arms. He didn’t stir all night, and neither did I. This is the same position I fell asleep in. He snores softly, looking so at peace.
It’s still dark outside, and when I check the clock, it’s just a little after four.
Shit, I’ve got to get to work. Fortunately, my internal alarm didn’t let me oversleep, and I need to clean the heady smell of sex from me before I go to work.
Still, I pause for a little longer. The moment is just too perfect.
The soft light of the alarm clock next to his bed provides enough illumination to see him. There are scars on his chest and arms, each one likely a thrilling story. I hope one day he’ll share them with me. He’s a man with a history, and I think it might be worth it to be part of this man’s future.
Although I slide from his arms as carefully as I can so as not to wake him, he stirs.
“Good morning,” he says, and he smiles, genuinely happy to see me.
“Hey, sleeping beauty,” I say teasingly, “I’ve got to get ready for work. Time for my walk of shame.”
“He chuckles and grabs me by the wrist before I can leave the warmth of his bed. “Call in. Take the day off.”
“I can’t,” I sigh, “I’ve got a heavy workload with Brooke gone.”
“That’s your friend, right? The one that ran off with your boss?”
“Yes, to Hawaii.”
I pull from his fingers. If he would’ve hung on, I might’ve let him pull me back down, work or not. One thing’s for sure, if I let him seduce me back, I’m never getting out of that bed, or out of his arms.
Mostly true. I have to pee now that I’m up.
As I quickly dress, he reclines on his elbows, watching, genuinely enjoying the performance of my reverse striptease. I’m glad the room’s darkness cloaks my blushing. It’s amazing how one man’s interest can make me feel so attractive. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so desired by a man before.
“Would you like it if I slipped away with you to Hawaii?” he asks.
“I’d miss work for that.”
“Just so we’re both clear,” he continues, “There’s no way you’re getting me into a thong, okay? I’ve got boundaries.”
“Maybe on the beaches, but when I get you alone, you are going to sport a banana hammock for me.”
“We’ll see. Speaking of seeing you again, dinner tonight?”
“Absolutely.”
When I leave his house, my walk of shame is short, and goes unnoticed by the neighborhood, as far as I can tell.
He wants to see me again! My heart races as I hurry to my shower. I can’t wait to see him again, and he wants to see me too!
These feelings are stronger than I’m used to. Are they real, or is this but a momentary infatuation? And are his feelings real for me? Or are they just lust?
Chapter 13 - Lance
I’m retired from the military, which brings in steady monthly cash, but I’ve put away much, much more than that from my mercenary days.
I’m pretty much retired from everything.
And that gives me too much time to think.
When I look in the mirror, I no longer see the young and powerful man I was in my youth. Back then, my body had been solid, all muscle. I’m by no means weak, but pushing fifty, I don’t exactly look like the perfect partner for Dina.
The more and more I think about it, the more regrets I have. I’ve brought her into an intimacy that challenges a healthy relationship.
I can still smell her on my sheets, on my extra pillow. I want her back, but I don’t feel worthy of her.
And I fear that once she’s had time to think, she’s not going to want me. And she’ll be the one with regrets.
I busy my day fixing up the place. It’s the only thing I can think of to get my mind off of her. And there’s plenty of things needing fixed. There’s a closet door that won’t close all the way. The bathroom has a leaky faucet. The kitchen has a broken drawer. It’s busy work, and I think it should be enough. This is easy stuff, with only a few runs to the department store to pick up parts.
It’s not enough. I stop by a flower shop and buy her an arrangement I think she’ll like.
There’s actually plenty of time to think. I find myself thinking about how gorgeous she looked sleeping, and how just listening to her breathe had kept me up, in a good way.
I find myself staring at the clock. I know exactly when she’s going to be home, and as five rolls around, I’m staring at the front window.
When she gets home, my hand is on the doorknob.
I can’t. I just… can’t. Maybe if she comes over, maybe then I can open it.
She doesn’t, though she glances furtively my way. Like she’s nervous.
And all I can think about is that guy I chased off.
She had used him. And she’d chased him off after he’d fallen for her.
I see myself in his shoes, except I’m well past the point where I chase after anyone. I’m too old to play games anymore.
I drop the flowers by the front door. No, there’s no way she could love a rough guy like me. I don’t want to make her regret last night, but I fear that if I say anything, it’s going to come spilling out of her. I’m a hard man, but she makes me feel vulnerable. I don’t like that feeling. I don’t hide from anything, yet I’m hiding from her.