The Complete Naughty Bundle: Older Man Younger Woman

by Violet Theron

  “That felt so good,” she whimpers after she recovered from her orgasm.

  “Yes.” I kiss the top of her head. “I want to make you feel good all the time.”

  She giggles and takes my hand, the one that was inside of her. She sucks on my fingertip and smiles coquettishly. “How do you plan to make me feel good?”

  “I want to,” I whisper slowly into her ear, “fuck you in the ass.”

  I am pleased to see Rose turning a deep shade of red. I expect her to protest and refuse but she nods in assent. She stammers, “I- I’ve never done this before. I- I know that you have been with a lot of women. I- I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”

  I run my fingers through her soft hair and kiss her. “You’re everything I want.”

  Rose’s big eyes widen when I free my eager cock from my trousers. It is pink and large, pointing proudly toward the ceiling. A bead of precum is oozing out of the tip and slowly drips down. She swallows as she gazes eagerly at my cock.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” I’m going to make sure it feels really good for her. She is all mine and I am going to treasure her.

  I place myself directly behind her. She holds up her cute little behind and points it at me. I run my hands all over her full, round ass cheeks and give them a little squeeze. I can see her cute little flower. It is pink and small, pulsing with each of her quickened breath. I gently press up against her flower and slowly push in just a little.

  She is so tight that I almost come right away. I take a deep breath and push in a little more. Rose whimpers a little, which gives me pause.

  “Don’t stop!” she calls out. I push in a little more and then pull out. My hand reaches around her waist and flick quickly over her hard nub. In and out. In and out. Rose is squealing “Yes! Yes!” I lose control and start to pump quickly. Each stroke takes her closer to the edge. For the second time, Rose cries out in pleasure and shudders deeply. As her young body finishes quaking, I come hard. I close my eyes and my body shakes uncontrollably. I howl like an animal as my incredible orgasm overtakes me.

  I croak into her ear as I hug her beautiful sweaty body close to me. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

  Epilogue

  It is only a matter of time before Charlie is caught using company money for bribery. It is soon discovered that Rebecca has been embezzling from the company and blackmailing certain members of the board with incriminating sexual photos of them. They are immediately fired and are now undergoing criminal proceedings. Guess who is the first person the company called?

  True, I have my old job back but I don’t have my old life back. My current life is so much better with Rose by my side. No more backstabbers and fake friends. I have asked Rose five times to marry me but she says she is too young to get married right now. She wants to open her own bakery and just date for a while.

  I lean back in my chair next to the pool and watch Rose play in the water with my sister’s children. Life doesn’t get any better.

  Ah, delicious.

  Roommates with Benefits

  Chapter 1

  My phone buzzes for the umpteenth time and I slam it facedown on the coffee table. My best friend, Kenny, sips his fancy macchiato from the tiny cup and asks, “What is that about?” We are sitting at a cafe on a weekday. With his busy salesman job and two kids at home, this is the only time he has free.

  I sigh over my cup of plain, black coffee. “I posted an ad for a roommate online.”

  “You what?” Kenny has been friends with me since we were kids. He remembers a time when we would tape a song on the radio rather than buying it on iTunes, when we had to go to a bookstore to buy books instead of downloading it, and when we found roommates through friends and family and would never ever post something so personal for the entire world to see.

  He looks around him furtively and lowers his voice. “Are you having money trouble? I mean, I got the mortgage and college tuition for the kids hanging over my head, but I can always spot you something.” I have known Kenny since forever and I know his financial situation. It warms my heart that he will lend me money, at the risk of angering his very outspoken wife.

  I frown and shake my head. “No, I just thought, well, I have all these empty rooms. Might as well do something with them. Make a little money on the side. Use it and go travel or something.” It’s true, I live in the house that my parents left me and my job at the hardware store pays pretty well for a position that doesn’t require a college degree. Heck, I’m already in my forties, it is a little too late to think about changing my life around.

  Kenny leans back and seems to be satisfied with my answer. He twiddles his thumbs for a second and says, “But you don’t want some dumb twenty-year-old come in and mess up your home. Be careful. Some of these guys might be into drugs or be part of a gang and cause trouble.” He waves his hands and counts off how I could put my life and property in danger.

  I throw my head back and laugh. We live in a quaint little town attached to a university. My parents were hard-working university staff and left me a beautiful red-brick house on the edge of the campus which I have lived in my whole life. The worst crime this town has ever seen was when some local kids tipped a bunch of cows two years ago. I wipe away the tears of laughter that collected at the corners of my eyes. I haven’t laughed this hard, since- well, since Rachel left me a few months ago.

  I grew up in this charming university town but I didn’t go to college. Right out of trade school, I landed a cushy job managing the local hardware store and have been working there ever since. I am one of the “townies,” compared to the blue-blooded, well-educated, ivory-towel-dwelling students and faculty from the school, who always look down at people like me. They buy our food and let us clean their houses, but they would never ever consider us as anyway like them. My ex-wife, Rachel, was one of those blue-bloods. She was academic, well-educated, and obviously too good for me. We met at the local townie bar when she came slumming one night with her grad school friends. I only got the nerve to speak to her after I downed one beer too many. With laughter in her eyes, she accepted my invitation to dinner the next night. I found out during our first date that she was fun and not stuck-up at all. After she graduated and got a teaching job at the school, we got married and settled into my parents’ old house. On my wedding day, I thought I hit the jackpot by getting a girl as beautiful and smart as Rachel. I never knew what she saw in me. Half the time, I didn’t even understand what kind of work she did in her lab. My eyes would glaze over whenever she tried to explain to me about her research and the paper she is working on.

  My biggest regret? Never having kids, although Kenny insists that is my biggest saving grace. Rachel didn’t want kids. Even though I wanted kids, I gave it up because just wanted my wife to be happy. Maybe when we were first married, I thought she would change her mind. We were so happy. Well, at least I was happy. Until she told me she was moving out, and that she was having an affair with her former thesis advisor, who just got a job in Europe. She was moving to Europe to be with him. Our fifteen-year marriage popped like a soap bubble in front of my eyes.

  For weeks, I felt like I had the rug pulled from under me. I walked around town like a zombie and I drank myself stupid for days, until Kenny told me I got to pull it together. There are other fish in the sea, he said to me. I know he is right but I still can’t get rid of thoughts about Rachel. Everywhere I look, there she is. There is the bar where we first met. There is the park bench where I proposed. There is the little church where we got married. I am going crazy. I think about selling the house and moving somewhere else, but where can a guy without a college degree go?

  But I know that I’m lucky, too. Rachel didn’t ask me for alimony or anything. I own the house I live in and have a stable job. But the three-bedroom suddenly feels so empty and quiet without her. I drive myself crazy being alone in that house, overcome by memories of Rachel.

  However, my neighbor, Mrs. Sherkinski, puts an idea into my
head. She rents out rooms to international students, who are on exchange for short periods. They have dinners together like a family and the students often send her letters and would come visit her years later. She is an old widow with her children living on the other side of the country. She tells me that having renters is the best thing she has ever done. I’m starting to think maybe having someone around might be a good idea, even if I don’t need the money.

  Kenny goes into a tirade about how irresponsible young people are and the burdens of homeownership. I tune him out and think about my life. I have been unhappy for a while and now I have decided that I need to turn a new leaf.

  “Hey, who knows,” I say, after taking a swig from my coffee cup, “maybe a little change would be good for me.”

  ◆◆◆

  I slam the door after the last visitor and rub my face. What a moron. Are all twenty-year-old men so clueless? He doesn’t seem to understand what “utilities” means even though I repeat to him several times that electricity, gas, water, and garbage are included in the rent. Then he tries to count with his fingers. This really can’t be that hard. The room is five hundred a month. Period.

  “What about wifi and cable?” he asks in his big dumb voice for the third time.

  “Wifi is included but I don’t have cable. So if you want cable you’d have to pay for it yourself.” I tried not to let the exasperation show in my voice, but failing.

  Luckily, he isn’t one to pick up subtle changes in tone. “Oh, I just thought since tv and stuff run on electricity, that it’d be included.” He scratches his blonde head and chuckles. I stare at the ceiling and take a deep breath.

  Well, he is better than the freshman who looks too scared to ask if he could use the bathroom and about to wet his pants. Or the grad student who probably doesn’t shower and smells like mothballs. But I refuse to cut my price. Since I have no mortgage, I am already renting the rooms out at a steal. If this guy is too stupid to do basic math, then too bad.

  I am about to turn on the tv and crack open a beer when the doorbell rings. A young woman in her early twenties greets me with a bright smile. She has beautiful auburn hair that looks like spun gold in the setting sun and a megawatt smile. She is petite and comes barely up to my shoulders, but she holds herself confidently. She is casually dressed in university sweats that wrap tightly around her tiny waist.

  I wrinkle my nose in confusion. “May I help you?”

  “Hi! I’m here for the shared room. I’m Jordan Caufield.” She reaches out and shakes my hand firmly. Her hand is small and warm, and she looks up at me with her big doe-like eyes. I stare for a moment. She looks down and blushes. “May I come in?” I step aside, while I catch a whiff of her lilac perfume as she whizzes past me.

  “It’s a beautiful house!” she turns around and exclaims. She continues to murmur with praise as she examines the kitchen, bathrooms, and the empty bedrooms. I stupidly follow her shapely behind around the house as she flutters around like a butterfly. Gosh, she’s got a nice ass. I gulp as I stare at the two round apple cheeks. “So you’re renting out both rooms?” She points at the two sparsely furnished rooms. One used to be Rachel’s study, so it’s been completely cleared out. The other room is the guest room after Rachel convinced me we did not need a nursery. I nod my head, still completely stupefied by her presence.

  “Oh, look at the view!” Jordan sounds very pleased as she lifts one of the curtains. Her eyes scan around the room and I can tell she is already taking mental measurements for where to place her things. I gulp as I watch her pink little tongue darts out and licks her lips. She is pretty, almost too pretty. Her face glows with youthful exuberance and her young body is full of lively energy. Lively energy that makes my body buzz and hum in response. I try to ignore the pressure in the front of my pants.

  “Um.” I search the texts on my phone and then curse. Yes, I did agree to show the place to a “Jordan C.” I thought it was a male student. Curse these unisex names. “Jordan? I’m so sorry. I should have clarified. I am actually looking for a male roommate.” A part of me is calling myself an idiot. I can have whoever I want living here, but I can sense a clear and present danger here.

  She stares at me with the most beautiful gray eyes I have ever seen. “Really?” She sounds so disappointed. “I mean, this place is perfect, and the price is right. I am a really good roommate and I have references from past roommates and bosses.” She hands me a stack of papers. “I study and work all the time so I won’t be here very much. And I promise I’m much cleaner than any guy that you might come across.” And smell much nicer, too. I can testify. I want to wrap my arms around her and then bury my nose in her hair to take a deep whiff.

  I take her papers and briefly glance down at them. They were her resume, letters of reference, and contacts for past landlords. She is organized, responsible, and respectful, all the qualities of a good roommate. But a small part of me sounds an alarm bell. She is too hot for me to live with. I would be sporting a perpetual tent in my pants and I won’t be able to think straight around her. What is the big deal? Another part of me asks. There are two bathrooms in the house so as long as she doesn’t walk around naked, I’m good. Although I wouldn’t mind if I get to see those nice, round tits every morning.

  “Um, I’m sure you’re great. But I’m really looking for male roommates.” I am proud of myself for standing firm. Just because I’m single now doesn’t mean I need to run around like a teenage horndog. It would be bad sense to have a hot female roommate, I quickly convince myself.

  “Oh,” she conveys her disappointment completely with the use of a single syllable. She purses her soft pink lips in the cutest way, and then her face cracks into a pretty smile. “No worries, keep my information. My number is on the front. Please call me when you change your mind.” She twirls her red hair around her small hand and cocks her head to one side.

  “Thanks,” I answer flatly and usher her out while catching another whiff of her perfume. Why am I turning into a bundle of testosterone at the sight of her? My body is practically humming with the need to touch her. Her sweatshirt is short and leaves a patch of her skin exposed above her pants. My fingers brush against the bare small of her back as she walks out. I inhale sharply at the warm soft sensation of her skin. And did she just shudder?

  After closing the door, I throw the papers into the recycling bin and inadvertently look up at the mantelpiece. I have spent weeks purging my house of memories of Rachel, but I have overlooked the most obvious thing. Our wedding portrait sits on top of the mantelpiece in a heavy silver frame . Rachel’s wealthy parents gave us the frame as a wedding present. In the picture, a much younger me, posing awkwardly but happily in a rented tux, with my arms wrapped around a beautiful red-head with a megawatt smile. I stare at the photograph for a second and then toss it into the recycling bin.

  Chapter 2

  The blonde dude forgets to send me his deposit check for the tenth time. Realizing that this is probably the first of many checks that he will forget to send me, I tell him to get lost. He doesn’t even respond to my text. Figures.

  By the time I call the other potential renters back, they have already found rooms for the semester. Mrs. Sherkinski tells me I need to rent it out to someone, anyone. Once a rental has a tenant, they will spread the good word about it to their fellow students. If it’s remains empty after my online post, people will wonder if there is something wrong with it. Since this is already the last semester before the summer break, both rooms will stay empty for at least a year. Reluctantly, I dig out Jordan’s information from the overflowing recycling bin and dial her number.

  My heart is pounding in my chest. I feel like I am thirteen again, calling a girl’s house for the first time. I haven’t felt this nervous since I had to call Laurie Filippa in the seventh grade. We went to the winter dance together and shared a slippery, awkward kiss.

  “Hello?” a friendly voice answers. I imagine Jordan in her tight sweats and her high ponytail bounces as
she talks.

  “Hi- hi, Jordan?” I fumble over my words. “This is Ryan who is renting out 300 Maple Street, the red-brick house on the corner of Maple and Ivy? Just wondering if you still want the room? Same price as in the posting you saw. It’s yours if you still want it.” A string of words falls out of my mouth, and then I hold my breath as I wait for her to speak.

  It feels like years before she finally answers. “Really?” She sounds like she is jumping up and down. “Oh, thank you so much. I’ll bring the check tomorrow. When can I move in?”

  “As soon as you want.” I can’t help but grin from ear to ear when I hear her effervescent words of gratitude through my cell.

  I hang up and look around the house. Suddenly, the house feels like a dump. The furniture belonged to my parents and I haven’t cleaned in months. What if she decides that she doesn’t want to live here? She will take one look at the place and immediately turn around. I call a cleaning service right away and start looking online for new furniture.

  I haven’t felt this excited in years.

  ◆◆◆

  True to her word, Jordan brings her deposit check the very next day and moves in over the weekend. She and a young man named Charlie move a few pieces of basic furniture and some boxes of clothes and books over the matter of a few hours. She only has a few things and they come in clean, organized boxes in the back of a truck.