Rosie S Stumbling Romance

WARNING: This is more about relationships than wall to wall sex. EG

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CHAPTER 1

Rosie Fields was running for something to do, covering up to six miles each evening after work on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. She began five weeks ago after her fiancé of three months dumped her without warning.

Paul wrote from seven hundred miles away providing his new address and asking for the return of his engagement ring. Rosie tossed the letter into the trash on the premise she couldn't help him and had lost all interest in him.

In her view that she was aware could be legally contested, the ring was her ring, not his. She sold it next day for $1820 and used some of the proceeds to purchase two outfits and two pairs of running shoes to run away memories of Paul and to help fill in some of her spare time.

As Rosie approach the footbridge over Craggy Gorge, the 35-year-old saw something and slowed to a stop, panting, and thought oh god. A guy in a white jacket and really long black hair was sitting on the parapet with his legs dangling over. Some 150 feet below him was a stream running through huge boulders.

She approached cautiously. "A-are you all right?"

"Yes ma'am. Don't worry about me. I'm contemplating work that lies ahead of me."

"W-what? Whether to jump or n-not?"

"Gee no. I was wondering why am I here in this dump of a city and decided the answer was raw ambition."

"Y-you mean that's your reason to end it?"

"What? Oh no way. Thanks to talking to me though. The only person I know so far is the woman who was preparing my room. I said good afternoon and she just stared at me, said it's a nice day and her name was Yvonne but that she was married and therefore didn't offer extra services to guests."

"S-she was probably used to demanding male guests. W-would you s-step back on to the bridge please."

He swung back over the parapet saying sure and asked how could he help.

"Help?"

"Yes you asked me to step back on to the foot walk."

"You were making me nervous sitting so dangerously like that. A normal person would simply lean over the rail."

"And what, topple over if she were top heavy because of breast size plus the weight of stuff she had in her handbag?"

"Well I suppose that could be a remote possibility. You have an unusual way of thinking."

The guy pushed back some hair and smiled. "Hey you've lost your stutter."

Rosie looked at him puzzled and said she didn't stutter.

"You could have fooled me," he grinned and then scratching his groin said, "Ah I'd made you nervous because you though I was preparing the jump?"

"Oh yes and that might have thrown my voice into a wobble."

Pointing to her breasts he said, "Those boobs were wobbling when I saw you running up on to the bridge."

Rosie said he was very rude being so personal.

"And you're sweating. God I thought women only sweated with having extreme sex."

His verbal aggression caused Rosie to lose restraint. "I wouldn't know what extreme sex is and for your information I'm not having sex these days."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Have you picked up an STD?"

"No I haven't," she said, coming close to the boil but professional training saved her from letting rip. "Now if you wish to talk to me, talk about something else."

He asked why was she running.

"My fiancé dumped me and I've taken running to fill in some of my free time. With that guy a relationship with a woman appeared to focus totally on sex. Oh god now you've got me talking about sex."

"Do you habitually blame other people for your lack of restraint and decorum?"

"What?" Rosie counted to three to calm herself. "Omigod you must be Mr Super Rude, the type of guy old women sensibly beat with umbrellas."

"You think graphically don't you?"

Rosie looked at him quizzically thinking that was a rather sophisticated observation for an 18-year-old.

"As a matter of fact I do and have developed that technique because I paint as a hobby."

"Are you any good?"

She flared: "Couldn't you just say you are pleased I have such a creative pursuit as a hobby or even remain succinct and neutral and say, 'That's interesting'?"

"I said what I said because that came into my head rather than a succinct and neutral and therefore personally titivating response designed to massage your ego. In the context it was delivered asking were you any good, that cannot not be interpreted as criticism by any normally clear-thinking person."

"Are you a college student who has swallowed a couple of elementary textbooks?"

The young guy snorted and said she had sent his mind reeling at the way she jumped back and forth between being defensive and antagonistic.

"Right I'm off Mr Super Rude."

"My name is Chester Black and with you gone I'll dangle my legs back over the side of the bridge and harmonize my thoughts to the sound of nature."

"No please don't, come back to my place for coffee or do you only drink sodas?"

He grinned and said in adding that last bit she was now on to attack. "Any chance of a beer. I am twenty."

"Yes I can supply a beer Chester Black. My name is Rosalie Fields."

"But Rosie to your friends?"

"Yes."

"Hi Rosie. Call me Chess if you wish. Are you good at sex?"

"Please pass me the hammer Chess."

"What hammer?"

Rosie pulled a finger across her throat.

He laughed. "Omigod Rosie has real humor."

Chess picked up his backpack and pulled it on.

"Right I wish to run," she said. "I'll keep to a slow pace because you are incorrectly dressed for running and have that backpack. Your sandals are not really even suitable for walking."

"Says you. Your tits are probably as heavy as my backpack and I can even run in work boots."

"You asshole," Rosie yelled. "I'll strangle you."

He ran off and she chased him, breaking into a sprint and knowing with her excellent stamina and fitness she would run him down. But he just accelerated and eventually disappeared into the distance and she arrived home without him.

Two nights later Rosie ran on to the bridge and saw Chess, in running gear, leaning over the parapet.

"Hi."

"Hi," she puffed.

"Lead over the railing and rest and let's listen in silence. I'll grab you if the weight of your tits threaten to pull you over."

Rosie only frowned and said nothing. She listened and heard the musical sound of running water far below and sounds of birds and a noise she couldn't identify.

She broke the silence. "There's a noise I can't identify, a little like the humming sound of distant traffic or perhaps a multitude of sighs."

Chess said pointing, "It's the wind, not reaching down into the gully, blowing through those pines up on that ridge."

"Omigod part of the symphony of nature."

He looked impressed and that stroked her ego and then he said, "Rosie I'm taking a risk asking this because you have auburn hair, but may I kiss you?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"Unless you allow me to kiss you in all probability you'll grow into an old never-married shrew and I'd not like to wish that on you."

Chess took Rosie by the shoulders and she tensed.

He winked at her and she relaxed slightly.

Chess lowered his head slowing as if knowing to give her time to sort the turmoil in her head. Her face tilted and she puckered and was kissed beautifully.

God he must be an old guy to be able to kiss her like that, a Peter Pan?

She opened her eyes and his green eyes were gazing at her very seriously.

"Chess," she whispered nervously.

"It's okay Rosie. I don't fuck pretty women on public foot bridges."

He had dismantled her defenses so effectively that she managed only to sigh to signal her disapproval of that outrageous comment.

They began their run across the remainder of the footbridge and around the two-mile semi-circular run through woods and back into the outskirts of the city and on to where she lived.

She stopped outside a well-kept property and bent over to catch her breath and was relieved to hear him breathing heavily.

"This is where I live," she panted.

"It looks very nice. Kiss me and I'll be off."

"Oh please come in for a beer."'

"No thank you. I must be off to prepare because I start work in the morning. You don't have to kiss me."

She kissed him, just a scrape of lips.

He smiled and said kissing him properly wouldn't mean she'd be fucked.

Rosie, blushing hugely, looked at him and winked and enjoyed seeing that had surprised him.

Neither of them saw a curtain at one of the front windows move.

Rosie entered and called, "Hi mom."

Brenda Fields, a relic of two failed marriages and she and her daughter now used Brenda's maiden name, said severely, "Why are you kissing a student like that? I've told you a hundred times you are far too ready to distribute your sexual favors."

"And I refuse to react aware you know you are wildly inaccurate in that assertion."

"Well sometimes one has to over-state in order to make a point."

Rosie sighed. "If you must know he's opened my senses to the symphony of nature."

"He's being supplying you with drugs more like it. Have you had sex with him?"

"Mom at his age he won't even know it can be used for that purpose," Rosie said unconvincingly and she and her mom laughed.

Brenda told her to shower while she attended to dinner.

That evening Rosie went up to the loft and sketched a male's head in blue crayon.

Two days later after work she went running and found Chess waiting on the bridge. They kissed, lightly, and leaned over the rail but a stiff breeze was blowing up the valley towards them, drowning the subtleties of the lighter sounds of nature.

"I'm worried about you running through the woods alone as you could be attacked by a woman."

"A woman?"

"Yes those attractive wobbling tits could attract wayward women wanting a piece of you."

"Ah well put that way I accept your warning. I must be aware of provoking dangerous females as well as gross males."

She stopped and said, "Let's turn back and we'll blaze a new trail for me, turning left at the bridge. I'm most comfortable running no more than six miles and it's a half-mile from my home to the bridge and I would prefer to avoid main traffic routes to escape excessive carbon pollution."

As they ran through the fringe of the CBD Rosie said to show her where he would be working.

Chess switched direction to cross through the main commercial area and then pointed to a building and stopped.

"I began there two days ago and am now meeting my kind of people. Oh you dark horse, I saw you picture on the honors walls. You played the lead in 'Cinderella' four years ago."

"Yes and as my mother says my crowning swan song. I live with my mother."

"So a retired thespian?"

"A retired enthusiastic amateur more like it. I became bored with the society's unwillingness to branch out from pantomimes, murders, musicals and sweet romances. Are you acting in our annual Summer Play?

"No directing it."

"You but you're...?" She stopped, not wishing to be rude.

"So young? Yes I grant you twenty appears so young but when placed in context perhaps it's not. You see I'm the third generation of the Black thespian family. I was placed on the stage professionally at the age of four and at home have a framed dollar from my first-ever wage packet. I received much of my schooling on the road touring with my parents who still appear on stage. Your so-called unimaginative society executive of the Playhouse must have been revitalized through a new election of officers because they advertised for summer play proposals and I won selection. I'm to direct Michael Frayn's farce, 'Noises Off.'

"Omigod that's a huge and enterprising leap forward by the society and rather a challenge," Rosie said looking at Chess a little doubtfully.

He responded defensively and said he'd already directed six full-scale amateur productions and had been studying drama theory for years with emphasis on directing and had attended four summer schools on directing and possessed diplomas but not a degree in drama.

"Omigod," Rosie said and they recommenced their run.

Outside her house Rosie said, "Mom will be away this weekend. Would you like to come for lunch Saturday?"

"Sorry we start auditions Saturday."

"Well dinner then?"

"I'll be pooped and we continue auditions from early Sunday morning and they could continue all day."

"Damn."

He suggested Friday for dinner."

"Mom will be home."

He grinned and asked then what did she have planned that she wouldn't wish her mom to see?

Rosie blushed and said it was just her thinking. Anyway he was too young to have sex with her.

"Just keep this relationship going Rosie and you'll get the sex you need."

She gasped, he winked and her face raced from deep pink to heavy scarlet.

"So you're worried your mother will scold you for being interested in a much younger man?"

She nodded.

"Is you mom interested in the theater?"

She nodded.

"Well then?"

"Come to dinner Friday at 7:00," Rosie smiled. She kissed him and in a moment of madness placed his hand on her right breast. She then turned and walked away almost ready to pant and heard him chuckle. Oh god, she choked... what a slut.

Rosie closed the front door and dropped her handbag on to the hallway chair and looked up to see her mom smiling hugely. Oh god.

Her mom kissed her and said, "At this rate of process you'll by unzipping him in the street. Bring him in next time and take him to your bedroom. I don't wish a neighbor to report you for accosting a child."

"Mom he's twenty, a man. I've invited him to dinner on Friday."

"Well you appear to be besotted. Get him back on Saturday and invite him to stay the weekend."

"He'll be busy with auditions. You being the society's patron ought to know they are being conducted this weekend."

"Oh but I do and would have been down observing but have given my sister priority because it's her sixtieth on Saturday night. Everyone is excited because the director from Boston is tipped to be an up-and-coming big shot."

"Oh how interesting," Rosie said, feeling her tension evaporating.

"Where does Toy Boy come from?"

"I have no idea mother. We only talk about sex. May we have martinis tonight?"

"You are such a tease dear. Yes I feel like something stronger tonight. For some reason I feel excitement in the air. Is that what you are calling the symphony of nature?"

"I wouldn't think so. I'm off to shower."

When on to their second martini Brenda asked, "What did your young man say when you told him you were a junior partner in your law firm?"

"I haven't told him. All we seem to talk about is sex and now theater."

"God you are such a tease to me darling. What does his father do?"

"His parents work in professional theater."

"What in admin?"

"He calls them thespians."

"Oh really? What are their names? Oh silly me he won't have told you because you two only talk about sex. God I'm almost to the stage of believing that."

"He didn't say but his name is Chester Black."

"Oh that's the same name as our director from Boston. Omigod."

"What?"

"His parents are probably Lloyd and Emma Black who really were Shakespearean theater thespians. They went to a festival in Boston when young as part of a troupe from England and later immigrated to that city where they became much loved as a stage couple. Omigod what time is he due here Friday?"

"Seven."

"Oh ask him to come earlier."

"Mom hush. You'll be disappointed if you find his parents are not that couple you spoke about. Calm down."

"Well it's all right for you because you're only interested in him for sex."

"He's too young for me mother."

"Nonsense. An older woman like you will assist to guide him to early maturity."

"Oh god mom, please let's talk about something else."

CHAPTER 2

Rosie was about to carry the two bouquets of flowers to the kitchen to place into two vases when she looked across and smiled at Toy Boy who had lipstick smudges on his cheeks. His butt had barely touched the sofa when her mother asked, "What are the names of your parents as I understand you come from Boston and your parents are in theater? Rosie was unable to tell me."

"Well that's not surprising because we mostly talk about sex."

Rosie blushed and couldn't believe it when her mother brushed the air with her hand and said that was a conversation subject healthy young people would be expected to dwell on.

Chess laughed and said he'd said that to see how she'd react.

"Oh you won't embarrass me talking about sex," Brenda said. "I've been up to my ears in it since I was... well young and still enjoy naughty afternoons."

Rosie boggled at that declaration. It was unbelievable her mom was still into sex after two failed marriages.

"My father is Lloyd Black and my mother is Emma."

"Ah I thought that might be so and told Rosie that. Many years ago a busload of us went from here to a festival in Albany, New York, and your parents took the major roles in Will's 'As You Like It' but I've read about them many times since."

"Yes I remember that festival and it was long ago. I had the part of Walter Cunningham (Jr.) one of Scout's friends, in 'To Kill a Mocking Bird'. I guess that experience put me off heavier drama."

The evening well well and Brenda went to bed at 10:00 and that gave the young couple half an hour alone.

Rosie handed Chess a scroll. He untied it and gasped as he recognized himself.

"Wow this is really excellent. Could you sign and date it please. I shall always treasure this."

Rosie winced, thinking that sounded like life after Rosie. "Come up to my studio loft. I ought to use the same crayon to do that."

"Do you have any self-portraits painted in the nude?"

Rosie was appalled. Why couldn't he accept her work as the work of an artist, an amatuer but nevertheless of a woman who thought herself as an artist, without having to introduce sexual connocatations?

She felt her ancestory Gaelic blood rising but smiled and cooled it thinking well at least he was interested in at least one aspect of her work even if it was something in her secret cache. How the hell could he have gussed she'd painted herself without attair as nature intended?

Rosie signed and dated her sketch of Chess and hoped he wouldn't dump it in the nearest trash can as he left the house. Perhaps he wouldn't. The fact she buckled on that initial thought made her think that perhaps she ought to be looking at Chess for what he was instead of being centered on his unacceptable young age. Yes, why not?

She watched him as he looked at the hangings of unconpleted and finished work.

"You are very good."

Rosie felt this great desire to hug him.

And then he said something that shook her to the core.

"Numerically I'm too young for you Rosie but in my head I've matured before my time."

Her heart leapt and rang a bell.

"I'm prepared to have sex with you."

There she had become upfront about it.

Chess nodded solemnly and said he'd guessed she was before she was ready to admit it.

Rosie tensed ready to be taken to the floor and dealt with but instead he drawled, "Where is it?"

She supressed her reaction at having her rampant desires diverted and unlocked the cover of the secured section of framed paintings in her verticle storage cabinet.

Rosie placed the full-length self portrait on the easel and stood back looking at him to interpret Toy Boy's reactions.

Her heart almost flipped. Chess was the first person other than herself to view this work and he appeared stunned.

"This is magnificent," he wheezed.

She countered, "Only because you are not used to seeing a mature woman unclothed."

But too her surprise that was ignored. Did that mean he was used to seeing aging tits, bellies and pussy and oh don't forget the thickening thighs?