Better Than Fantasy 1

I had met a lovely young woman months before, but today it seemed we would have time to be together, and maybe I could make that alone together if I was lucky. She was a lot younger than I, almost 40 years younger. It had never occurred to me that any woman that young would be at all "interested" in me. I don't count professional interest as "interest". I was supposed to meet her after her flying lesson at 10am, so I got there about 11:30. And as I waited, I considered what might happen when Angela met me.

I was hoping she would get in the back seat with me, but I hadn't thought of a "good excuse" to do that, other than to just suggest it for what it was, a chance to give and receive some physical affection. I had agreed to meet her near the small airport where she was taking her lesson, at an Air Museum that had several buildings and several parking areas, including one near an indoor "water park" that would not open until later in the summer (or maybe it was only on weekends) so there were few cars in it- and we could park behind a tree and it would be somewhat private. Face it, parking is never private unless you are inside a private garage. I knew I "wanted" Angela in some sexual way, even as I knew I did not have half the libido I had 10 years earlier. What I really wanted was to be a source of pleasure for her, in every way, and if she could accept sexual pleasure from me it would make me feel better about myself maybe? I guess I hadn't thought much about the fact that I did not need a quick orgasm, and had already learned that on any given day I might not have any orgasm. Yet I knew that the contact, the closeness, all of that would be wonderful, enjoyable, and every time I thought about her allowing me to love her, it sort of made it hard to think about details.

Maybe I would have her snuggle against me, maybe kiss some, or a lot, and I could have my hands on her bare skin. Any of her bare skin, even her wrist- which she had allowed me to touch, maybe not recognizing how much pleasure I had from the fact that she allowed me to touch her anyplace. Her breasts would be close by, and she might allow my hands to wander there- or maybe I could expose her breasts and kiss them. I had no idea if she even wanted to be in the same car with me, and yet I was thinking about kissing her naked breasts. What a dreamer! Why stop there? She would not be wearing a skirt, but maybe she could loosen the waist of her pants- if I was hugging her against me, I might be able to slide my hand into her panties, and maybe she would help me learn what she likes by guiding my hand. What I really wanted was to taste her and lick her private parts, to have her surrender to her pleasure, and I would be the one to experience her pleasure with me. I thought she enjoyed my attention. I knew I loved her, but there was little benefit to her from my love. And she was married. But if she actually wanted my attention, maybe she wanted me to be more physical. I hoped to find out today. Or to learn more. She seemed to expect a hug whenever we parted. And she had not only allowed my hand on her back, she had helped me move it under her blouse to her bare skin. Maybe it was the age difference, I somehow worried that any effort by me to be more physical would drive her away, and I knew I did not want that.

But as I waited, it got later and later. I knew she had to leave at 1 pm and it was almost 1 when she emerged from the office, her lesson was over. She walked over to my car, and I said Hi and gave her the dark chocolate bar she doesn't like as much as some other one that I forgot the name of. Before she told me she had to get going because it was late, I started to tell her she needed to leave.

"I can wait a little," she said. "Why don't we go over to the Air Museum in your car, and you can bring me back to get my car in a half hour when I really do have to leave." My heart leaped. I had moved some junk to the front seat (to clear out the back seat). She just tossed it in the back again. I drove to the Air Museum, but instead of going to the main parking area, I drove toward the Water Park building, and parked a long way from either building, and parked so that small trees they had planted in the parking area were blocking view of my car.

"So we aren't going to the cafe?"

I didn't have a good line, so I just told the truth. "I wanted to hug you for a while, and be close to you, and we couldn't do that at the cafe."

"OK, but isn't that going to hard to do in the front with the gear shift between us? I wanted to suggest the back seat, but I just froze. "Maybe we would be more comfortable in the back seat?", she suggested. All I could do was murmur "Yes."

We got out, and got in the back as I wondered if anyone was watching. How could they think anything except what was actually happening, or what I hoped was happening. We got in opposite sides, and I noted that my car's clock said 1:05. As I closed my door, Angela slid across and pushed her left shoulder and then her back against me. My arms closed around her and she sort of snuggled into my arms- I am not only older than she is, I am twice as big, so she almost disappeared in my arms, and I luxuriated in the smell and feel of her long brown hair. And managed to kiss her neck and smell the warmth coming off her body.

My hands reached all the way around her, so I could easily touch all of her and slowly began learning how much she would allow me to touch. As my hands found her breasts, she just sighed. I barely touched them then moved away. That was enough for her to tighten up a little and take a deep breath, and when my hands returned to barely brush her nipples, she sort of gasped.

I was surprised to feel an attempt at erecting beginning- the way it did in the good old days, but I refused to hope much for that- and had no plan on what to do with it if it did suddenly revive itself.

I realized that I wanted to just stay here doing this for a long long time, but that thought made me look at the clock which now read 1:13. Instead of finding some way to move us around so I could kiss and lick her nipples, I found my hands fumbling with the closure of her pants. She undid them for me, and unzipped, but as my hands started to slide under the elastic of her panties, her hands pressed down on mine to hold them in place. Even where they were, against her warm tummy, was magical. I knew she had two children, and the magic of her abdomen and her sex and her pleasure swirled in my mind. Feelings that I really never had time for when younger, I was too intent on "getting it in" - and just FUCKING.

I assumed she wanted me to stop, but this was a lovely place to stop, with her pants sort of open and my hands sort of in them. If this was what she wanted, it was what I wanted.

"You need to know something about me that I haven't told you."

"OK, I want to know something more about you."

"I know you really like me, and I do really like you and want you to like me too."

"I sort of already knew that and hoped that you liked me a lot, because I like you a whole lot, more than you probably imagine."

"Right, but that's not what I need to tell you that you don't know."

"OK, what is it."

"There is no good way to tell you this, and I hope it doesn't make too much difference in how you feel, but I know that it might make a difference."

"I don't think so, but what is it?"

"When I was born, the doctors told my parents I was a boy. But I have never thought I was a boy. I AM a girl. I got breast implants. But I never had the other surgery."

"But you have children? don't you?"

"Yes I have two children, and I am their mother, but they are adopted."

"And the other surgery you didn't have was what?"

"I didn't have the boy parts modified to be internal. So if you want to play with me, and I do want you to play with me, you are going to find more than you expected and less than you expected. I'm sorry if that disappoints you"

I was having a hard time because I must not have wanted to understand that she was telling me she was a boy, because I was thinking that maybe she just had a really big clitoris, which actually sounded sort of interesting. How could I be disappointed? I was here with her, holding her, kissing her... that alone made it a wonderful day. But I also knew what she thought she had to tell me. She was telling me to get ready for a moment like in that movie "Crying game". I pulled my hand out of her panties, but wrapped my arms around her, kissed her neck, and gently held both her breasts. I loved her so much, but was careful not to crush her as I hugged her desperately. And then I whispered in her ear, "I don't care exactly what you have, or don't have; I do need you to know that I love YOU, and I want to love every part of you no matter what it is - just because it is a part of YOU."

I slid my hand far into her panties and I tasted her tears as they ran down her face to her neck. I knew I loved her, and wanted her, and wanted her to be happy - and everything else was just going to be "details": how could I best love her and have her be happy. And I knew she was happy that I loved HER. I always wondered how to tell if tears were from sadness or happiness. These were happy, and I could tell she enjoyed having me touch her.