"Okay, do you see that whitish-gray dot near the bottom left edge?" he asked.
"Yeah, it's hard to make out, but I can see something," she said.
"That's Miranda," he said.
"What's Miranda's story?" she asked, still looking into the scope.
"Oh, it's the most interesting place in the whole solar system," he said. His tone made it sound like he was talking about an old friend, "Miranda started out like most of the other moons. A rock with some ice around it. But something happened. It got hit by a bigger rock. Something absolutely shattered it into a million pieces. And for eons, those pieces formed a ring. Just a trail of rock and ice and dust that seemed doomed to be nothing but gravel. But, over time, the moon started to put itself together again. Only this time, instead of a nice, smooth icy surface under a ball of rock, it formed something far more interesting. Bits of rock jutted out at weird angles. Ice stuck in the middle tried to get back out. You got left with huge canyons, upside down mountains. Geology like nowhere else in the universe. Unique and beautiful and stark."
She stood back and looked at him, "And it would never have been so interesting if it hadn't been broken first."
He nodded.
Without quite knowing that she was doing it, she squared herself and took three steps towards him. Her eyes were level with his chin, so she had to reach up to the back of his head. In a slow flash, she pulled him in for a kiss.
Like the boy, it was deep and full of promise. It had power and tenderness and she drunk him in like an oasis. She felt his hands grip her and hold on tight, eager to make the moment last. She tasted his tongue and breathed in his scent. The faint scruff of his stubble that he'd tried so hard to contain. The softness of his lips. The firmness of his fingers. It lasted forever and just for a moment.
She pulled her mouth back and watched his eyes dance in the starlight. No regrets. Absolutely no regrets.
She held his hand and watched as he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. She got the meaning without him needing to say a thing.
She matched his smile with one of her own and took the question out of the space between them, "I think I'd like to go to your place."
The apologies he'd made on the way over had been more than was necessary. She'd expected a bit of a mess. He was a boy, after all. But the apartment wasn't really dirty or messy, just a little cluttered. And that was mostly piles of books. There seemed to be a stack next to every table and chair. Nothing that clogged up the walkways, just a pile here and a pile there.
The scent of old books was really what she got when she took a deep breath. She looked around. Like most boy-places it was utilitarian. A big TV like every guy seemed to prefer. Some video game systems she didn't really know. The kitchen was Spartan, but serviceable. He clearly could cook, but usually didn't. She spotted a dog dish and water bowl in the corner of the kitchen and got curious.
"You didn't tell me you have a dog," she said, looking around, waiting for a four-legged companion to come rushing in.
"Oh, um... I don't exactly. Not entirely at least. Tom, down the hall, he has a golden retriever. Tom's pretty old and lately he's been back and forth in the hospital. When he's there, Rusty comes over here. And I take Rusty to the park on the weekends. But Rusty is really Tom's dog. I just help out when I can."
She nodded and tried not to get emotional about this boy helping an old man and his dog. She tried to imagine an answer that could have hit her harder, but came up empty.
"Would you want the dime tour?" he asked.
She nodded, looking around this living room. She spotted a beachscape on one wall and remembered his Carolina origins. There were a couple of photographs that she assumed were of him and his mother. Before she could get into that, he led her into a room that, in any other apartment would have been a proper bedroom. But this one was lined with bookshelves.
He stood in the center, gesturing to the walls, "Library. I used to keep DVDs in here too, but the books kind of drove them out. That shelf is history, that one there are science fiction. I keep books on engineering over here. Classics are on that shelf."
She looked around, pulled a tome off his classics shelf and held it up, "Big fan of the Odyssey?"
"I like that Odysseus took the time to think things through," Brandon said.
She smirked, "Didn't he also fuck like half of Greece on his way back home?"
"Nobody's perfect," he shrugged, not taking the bait.
She smiled and put the book down. "Can you show me the bathroom?"
He nodded and gestured for her to follow. The next room was the master bedroom. She noted that it was clean. A painting of a bridge, blue sheets, nothing too crazy. What you'd expect from a guy with his head on his shoulders who was past his college years. He pointed her to the bathroom door and she stepped through and shut it behind her.
The bathroom was clean-ish. He probably wasn't expecting a visitor tonight, but he wasn't messy. She looked around and didn't see anything that would be a dealbreaker. She started the water to put some noise in the air, then went straight for the medicine cabinet.
It was almost disappointing. She'd been looking for something that would break this little crush that was forming. She could sense feelings starting to creep in and she would have preferred to keep a little distance. Brandon was stable, kind, even-tempered, and a little kinky. He kept checking boxes. She needed a flaw. Beyond the weight and the glasses and the general nerdy demeanor. On anyone else, that would have been enough, but for some reason it wasn't a problem on this guy.
The medicine cabinet was as generic as the rest of the bathroom. No AXE body spray. No douchey colognes. No STD meds. She was running out of excuses.
She checked her hair in the mirror and ran through a gauntlet of expressions. She found the face that she was looking for and nodded.
"Okay, final exam, buddy boy. Best of luck."
She shrugged off the shoulder straps of her dress and let it pool at her feet. She looked at herself in the mirror, twisted a bit, checking for flaws. She found none. The black bra and panty set was a special from Fredericks. It was her go-to first date lingerie. The lace trim took it from sexy to glamorous. The contrast to her skin made the whole thing pop. And with the three-inch stillettos, she was basically a deadly weapon. She made a point not to wear it with any guy over forty on the off chance she caused a heart attack.
This little nerd wouldn't know what hit him.
She opened the door and put a hand on the doorframe, lengthening her taut frame. Brandon stood at the side of the bed. She watched his jaw drop.
"I forgot to pack pajamas for this little sleepover. You okay if I wear this to bed?" she asked.
He nodded, which was a testament to his ability to still think. She could sense him taking a moment to drink it all in. Then he moved.
His hands were strong. She hadn't noticed that before. He gripped her cheeks and pulled her in for a deep kiss. He kissed her with a fiery passion. She felt him lift her up, taking away his height advantage. She giggled, gleefully, as her feet came off the floor. Her stillettos dangled a few inches in the air before he tossed her, like a ragdoll, onto the bed.
She landed with a joyful squeal and a grin and remembered how much she liked being manhandled. She wasn't sure what his next move was. He surprised her by sinking to his knees between her thighs.
She felt his fingers run up her legs and she stared at the ceiling for a second. He was taking care of her now. This wasn't even sex, it was payment. She'd blown him and now he was returning the favor. She had offered him everything, but he wanted to be even before he took anything more. A good man pays his debts and if she knew nothing else about him, she knew he was a good man.
She felt the black silk rolling off her thighs and let her body relax. This was the good part. He was gentle. She'd dated men who would have pawed at her before trying to get theirs, or who would have tried to rip her clothes off just to show their power. Brandon didn't need to. Men who are truly strong never have to demonstrate it.
His hands were slow and his tongue was warm. The combination made her very happy as she opened her thighs to him. She felt him take a tour of her labia and mons. He kissed and licked and she felt herself start to swirl. That ball of energy inside her began to gather, collecting electric bits of sex and sensation as she felt him explore her folds with his tongue.
She gave a contented purr and unhooked her bra. It wasn't the most comfortable thing and he wasn't really looking now anyway. She tossed it over his back and heard it hit the floor behind him. She rubbed her chest and sighed as he found a lovely little spot and licked it like a pro. She sank into the warm sheets of his bed and let him take care of her.
Her hips rose to meet his mouth when he put his tongue inside her. This was no bumbling amateur. He worked her pussy with the skill of a seasoned player. She'd had plenty of college boys who thought they knew their way around a woman's core, but it took time and experience to do this right. Brandon had plenty of both.
Her first orgasm came more suddenly than she'd expected. It hit her like a wave, crashing over her body as he put two fingers inside her. The sudden jolt to her g-spot put her into a hard arch and she felt her toes curl. Her left stilletto fell off and landed with a dull thud on the carpet. She couldn't have cared less in that moment. She felt him pushing past her clench and starting in on her next orgasm.
The starry-eyed bliss of his mouth put her into a divine state. She lost track of things. Things like where her panties ended up, or how many orgasms she'd had, or how much time had passed. Those were details that no longer mattered. What mattered were smaller things. The blade of his tongue in just the right spot. The way his hair felt crispy under her fingers. The way she could tug and pull it to get his mouth in the perfect position. The way his bare back felt when she ran her ankles over his skin. She didn't remember his shirt coming off, but misdirection was the key to magic.
His tongue was soft, but so was her clit. She wanted more. His debt was long paid and she needed a new sensation. She needed that connection that could only be had in one way.
With all her strength she pulled his hair and he came up for air. She felt her body crave his tongue again, but fought the urge to drive him back into her center. She needed him spiritually now. It was time.
"I want you inside of me," she said, through a breathy haze of pleasure.
She felt him shift above her and soon his eyes were in line with hers. Strong arms cupped her back, bringing her off the bed a bit. She reached down and felt him swell. He was wrapped and she raised an eyebrow in surprise. She was glad she hadn't had to ask. It was a pleasant surprise, but in line with his accommodating manner.