I didn’t plan this, but if I did, this is the underwear set I’d want to be caught in by a sexy younger man: black lace bra with a matching thong. I felt good and not afraid to show this young hunk my body, even if I knew I shouldn’t. After all, he is a friend of my son, even if he’s a few years older than him. He’s out of my generation, but not out of my dreams.
Douglas reached out and caught me before I stumbled down any further and righted me on my feet, my white robe flowing around me.
“Are you okay? Wow, you look great, Ravon. You are one sexy woman,” he said as he lifted my chin up and kissed me soulfully. I squirmed at first, but then settled into it and kissed him back. What am I doing? I leaned back, away from him and pulled my robe around me.
“I’m sorry, Douglas, I don’t know what came over me. You know we really shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Why not? We’re certainly attracted to each other, and I see nothing wrong with it,” he said, stepping a little closer to me while I backed up inside the room.
“Because you’re much younger than me. You’re my son’s age.” I was starting to sound like a broken record.
Instead of debating, he reached for my hair and ran his fingers through it, twirling it between his fingers. “You’re a fine woman, and I can tell you like me.”
“Oh you can. Are you sure?”
“Oh, I’m sure. You’ve been flirting with me in a round-about way since I got here. And now I think it’s time for us to get to know each other a little better,” he said, stepping closer to me again.
“Better? How much better?” I backed up again.
“I want to unwrap this beautiful package and enjoy what’s inside,” he whispered inches away from me as he folded his arms around me in a snug embrace.
He cradled my back as he pulled me closer to him. I was standing against him with my robe open in my underwear. I felt his hands explore my back, shoulders, and glide over my behind. I stood against him and could feel the evidence of his arousal against my thigh. He was hard and his excitement turned me on even more. His right hand cupped my left breast and massaged it softly, rubbing my nipple, which rose up in a bud for him. He reached inside my bra and revealed my bare breast, tasted my nipple and moaned. I moved my hips to feel his erection more and was glad that I did. I could tell it would be awesome with him by the way he touched me. I knew he would be passionate yet gentle. I wanted this man despite the difference in our ages.
I don’t know how it happened, but after a few minutes of our hands frantically feeling every inch of each other, we wound up falling on the bed. At this point, my robe was off and lying on the floor, as Douglas unhooked my bra with one hand and reached inside my panties with the other. My bra peeled off, and we rolled from side to side on the bed with my legs wrapped around him. I reached to pull his pants off, and he jumped up and tore them off himself. He dived back on the bed and buried his head between my breasts, cupping them in his hands and sucking them like he couldn’t get enough of me. It drove me crazy. When I felt his lips and tongue on my nipples, heat radiated through my body and caused a quivering in my abdomen. It was like a form of slow, enticing torture that felt good. The more he suckled me, the hotter I got, until I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Please get inside me, Doug. Now,” I moaned, not recognizing my own voice.
He reached in his pocket and pulled out a condom and quickly rolled it on. While I marveled at his preparedness and flawless technique of putting on the condom, he pulled me on top of him.
“I want you to do what you want with me first, Ravon. Take me your way, baby.”
When my body touched his, I could feel my insides turn to liquid silk making his entrance smooth and inviting. He entered me slowly. I moved my hips to a rhythm I heard in my head and felt in between my legs, a beat that filled my body and had me quivering with every centimeter that entered me. Once he was inside me, he pushed my torso up and held my waist. “Ride me, baby.”
Sitting up, I took in the view from on top of him and obliged his request. I moved my body back and forth, up and down, and then ran my hands over his chiseled chest. He gripped my buttocks with both hands and while riding him I came with a force of energy rising through my body. I withered back down and lay on top of him still shaking, when I felt his climax shoot through him. He clutched my bottom and held my back as he shook under me, releasing an audible sigh of joy. Afterwards we held each other, then fell asleep in the spooning position with him on the outside surrounding me under the sheets.
I woke a few hours later, and saw Douglas had gotten up and gone to the guest room. Then on the dresser, I saw what looked like torn pages from a spiral notebook. I got up and saw that Douglas had written me a poem. It was so sweet of him to write a poem for me. I was touched to see it, but heartbroken because I knew I couldn’t read it.
****
In the morning I got up and went straight to my kitchen, and continued preparing the Thanksgiving dinner. Barbara came over and helped me with the finishing touches, and we had a lovely dinner that night. The four of us enjoyed our feast of turkey, stuffing, and an assortment of vegetables—the usual Thanksgiving meal. Barbara also made her famous potato salad and our Grandma’s recipe for corn pudding, which brought back warm memories. After dinner, we watched a movie on DVD.
Barbara offered to help clean up the kitchen, but I told her it wasn’t necessary and that she should go since she had to work the next day. After she left, Douglas helped me wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen.
“So what did you think about the article and poems I wrote? You haven’t said a word.”
“I really haven’t had the time to read them,” I said not looking at him, “With cooking the meal and all, I’ve been very busy.” I continued washing dishes at the sink.
“I find it hard to believe that after what we’ve shared here that you couldn’t find a few minutes to read the poems. I wrote them especially for you, Ravon.” I could hear the pain in his voice. I wished I were invisible.
Douglas went to the guest room and came back with a notebook.
“I know you haven’t read the first poem I wrote for you. I also write poetry. Since we’ve met, you’ve inspired me to write more of it. I want to share it with you. I’ll just leave it here for you to read on your own. I’d love to hear what you think about it. We can discuss it later.” He left the pages on the kitchen table, and we cleaned up the rest of the dishes in silence.
When we finished Evan came in and asked Douglas if he wanted to go with him to visit a friend. “Sure, I’ll get my jacket and meet you at the car,” he said.
When I heard the car drive off, I went and sat down at the table and picked up the sheet of paper. I could hardly make out the first line. I recognized a few short words but couldn’t put it all together. I felt like a 2nd grader attempting to read Shakespeare. I put the paper down as tears streamed down my face. It was so sweet of him to write something for me, but I couldn’t understand it. It touched my heart and at the same time upset me. I was elated Douglas took the time to write something for me, and embarrassed I couldn’t read it. I felt so ashamed. I wanted to hide under my bed covers. But what would that accomplish? All I wanted to do was to hide from him so I wouldn’t have to lie, and keep stalling about reading the poems, but he kept bringing me more to read. I went to bed to make sure I wasn’t up when they came in.
The next morning Douglas and Evan were up early to get a start on their ride back to school. I entered the kitchen with a smile on my face, even though I was sad and sorry they were going back. It was good to see my son again, although most of his time was spent catching up with his friends. I looked over at Douglas eating breakfast at the table, and knew that I would miss him too. I would miss seeing his warm smile and the feel of his strong arms around me. While I was sorry to see him go, part of me was glad to put distance between him and my secret. As they prepared to leave I noticed Douglas hadn’t mentioned the writing, so I didn’t bring it up either. Thank God. But by not discussing it, I fel
t like I was walking on egg shells around him, not wanting to mare our last few moments together.
When they left I hugged and kissed them both goodbye in the driveway and watched them drive off. My holiday houseguest stirred up feelings in me that I had buried for a long time. I suddenly wasn’t content with my simple life as I knew it. I knew there were more good things in store waiting for me on many levels, and I had to act to find it.
I knew that by sweeping my lack of reading ability under the rug, I was cutting myself off from a world of opportunities: a better job, a more fulfilling life, and now even a budding relationship was at stake.
I struggled at first with my decision mostly out of fear, but in the end, I knew what I had to do. I contacted my local library and asked about their adult literacy program. I signed up for a class held a few times a week to strengthen my reading skills. My Instructor was a young woman who worked as a Human Resources executive during the day and volunteered to teach reading at night. I also asked her to read me the travel article and poems Douglas wrote me. The article was great, and the poems were beautiful and expressed how he felt about me. I looked forward to someday soon being able to read them myself. I called Douglas and gave him m%y comments on his travel article and the poems without telling him about the literacy class.
Right before Christmas break I made a trip to the University of Arkansas and headed to Hansen Hall. I called Evan before I got to his dorm to let him know I was coming. He was in between work and classes. We met at his dorm room and talked for quite awhile. He knew that I couldn’t read. It was a secret that we shared and I was ashamed of.
When I told him about my class, he jumped up and hugged me. He was smiling ear to ear. “That’s great Mom, I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, baby. It’s been hard, but I’m going to stick with it.” I told him more about the class and could tell he was genuinely interested. “I just wanted to let you know that Douglas and I have become ahhh, friends, and I’m inviting him to spend Christmas with us.”
“Oh, I kind of thought something was up between the two of you,” he said choosing his words carefully.
“Well, yes there is. We hit it off and really like each other. I know it’s always been just the two of us. I hope you can understand what I’m trying to say here, Evan.”
“I think I do. I know I used to give you a hard time about seeing guys in the past, but I know that you deserve to be happy too.”
“You don’t have a problem with the age thing, or that Doug is a friend of yours?”
“No, it’s cool with me. I don’t think he’s too young for you, Mom. Doug gets my seal of approval.”
Just what I wanted to hear. I was so proud of the young man I’d raised; he was maturing in front of me. One down, and one to go. I left my son’s room and walked downstairs to the main floor and found Doug’s apartment off the lobby. I took a deep breath and released it, raised my head, and knocked on the door.
The door opened and Douglas stood before me.
“Ravon, what a surprise! Come in. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I just had to see you. I’ve been keeping something from you, Douglas, and I want to share it with you now.”
“Of course, you have my undivided attention,” he said as he sat on the sofa and I paced in front of him
“Douglas…I’m a functional illiterate.”
“What?”
“Or should I say I was an illiterate. I’m learning how to read in an adult literacy program that I attend after work. I had to drop out of school and never finished. I had a series of bad breaks and missed opportunities. I had Evan when I was young, and then took care of my mother when she became ill. I just never went back to school. I was ashamed to tell you that I couldn’t read, especially since you’re going for your master’s degree and you’re a writer. I couldn’t imagine what you would want with an older woman% who couldn’t even read.”
I explained to him that I wasn’t disinterested in his work or poetry, but that I was ashamed because I couldn’t read.
“Well that really explains a lot. I never understood why it took you so long to read and comment on my stories and poems. I’m totally shocked, Ravon. But I’m glad because I thought you just blew me off and didn’t take me or us seriously.”
“No, not at all. I took it very seriously and felt that you wouldn’t want me if you knew I couldn’t read.”
I told him more about the literacy program, and my plans to go back to school. He stood up, hugged me tightly, and kissed me. He whispered in my ear, “I’m very proud of you.”
My body tingled with excitement when he kissed me, and I held him close.
“Thank you and I’m glad you’re a writer, because I plan to read all of your work in the future,” I said.
A future I wanted to share with him.
The End
Author Bio
Carolyn Gibbs has a background in television news and TV production. She has a BA in Journalism from C.W. Post College, and has worked for several New York area television stations. When she’s not writing or reading, she loves hiking, Pilates and yoga. Her novella Love and the Economy is published by Secret Cravings Publishing. You can find out more about her current work in progress at her blog, www.carolynwrites.blogspot.com.
My Holiday House Guest Page 2