Dream Come True 37

As I toweled off from my shower, Loraine's car muffler announced Cindy's arrival home. She and Loraine worked at the Breakfast Spot.

My cock twitched as I imagined her 'accidentally' catching me naked.

There was just one tiny problem with this sexual fantasy: I couldn't figure a way to implement it without creeping her out. We didn't have that kind of relationship.

Still, I could dream.

A half-minute later, I heard Loraine's car pull away. I squeezed into a pair of bikini briefs as the door to my fifth-wheel RV opened. Cindy climbed aboard, eyes glued to her cellphone.

"Hey!" I called from the RV's upper level that housed the bedroom and bath.

She frowned at her device, giving me a distracted 'hi' without looking at me.

I sensed something wrong.

When she finally glanced my way, her eyes widened. Face brightening, she bounded up the three steps and spread her arms for a hug. She's four-feet-ten, so I had to bend my six-foot-two frame to compensate.

"Well, look at you!" she said.

In the five weeks since she'd moved in, we'd seen each other half-dressed a few times, but always in passing. I'd contrived this encounter hoping that our increasing familiarity would lead to something more than a warm embrace.

She quickly set me straight.

Eyeing my crotch, she shook her head. "I don't care how happy you are to see me, Larry. You're not getting any!"

I plastered a shit-eating smile on my face to make light of her comment. "Doesn't hurt to try."

She patted my backside, slipped past me to the wardrobe and undid the top buttons of her blouse. "Just getting up? It's almost two."

"Didn't get to sleep until after you left for work. Had a tummy upset most of the night."

She gave me a concerned look. "You okay?"

I gazed into her dark brown eyes. Even in her Breakfast Spot uniform she looked sexy. "Now that you're home, I am."

"Awww," she said, rolling her eyes. "Still trying to get into my panties."

"Maybe one day I'll get lucky."

She stuck out her tongue and finished unbuttoning her blouse.

I put on a pair of jeans. "How was work?"

"Busy. Good tips. Fred Moore tried to pinch my ass again."

"All in a day's work, huh?"

She took off her blouse and hung it in the wardrobe, then faced me, her small teardrop-shaped breasts tucked into a pink lace bra.

I put on a frown. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

She swiveled her hips suggestively. "Don't you like my boobs?"

"Yes, but you don't need to tease me like that."

Cindy flashed me a wicked grin. "You mean like greeting me in your underwear just now?"

My felt my face redden. So much for the cool facade I was trying to maintain. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She stepped towards me. "Tell me you don't get off having me quote unquote ACCIDENTALLY catch you in nothing except those briefs."

I struggled to keep my composure. "I just got out of the shower!"

She pressed a finger into my chest. "You just happened to take a shower around the time you knew I'd be coming home from work? I don't think so."

So much for damage control. She'd won, but I wasn't going to admit it. "I wasn't feeling well."

She stood on her tiptoes, raised her arms for another hug, her chest jutting out. I stooped so she could put her arms around my neck. I didn't pass up the opportunity to glance into her bra to admire her nipples.

"You're so fun to tease." She kissed my cheek.

"One of these days you're going to give me a heart attack."

"In your dreams."

I opened a dresser drawer to pick out a tee-shirt.

She plopped down on my queen bed, legs splayed. Her skirt rode past mid thigh allowing me a glimpse of turquoise panties. "I'm pooped. And my feet are killing me."

"How about a foot rub?"

She gave me a suspicious look. "No funny business!"

"Absolutely not! Just an unfunny foot rub.

She giggled. "Promise?"

I raised my right hand. "Scout's honor."

She smirked. "Were you ever in the scouts?"

I shook my head. "It's a figure of speech."

***

Two years after my wife was killed in an auto accident, I won a lawsuit against the responsible trucking company. I quit my job, put a large chunk of the settlement money into a stock index mutual fund, and used the remainder to buy a brand new truck and fifth-wheel RV. After my house sold, I hit the road to see this great country.

I met Cindy eighteen months later in a diner outside Oklahoma City. She looked almost young enough to be my daughter.

Dark skin, large brown eyes and long tightly curled hair, a petite frame of less than five feet, made her seem exotic.

Her face hinted at seductive mischief as she took my breakfast order. By the time she moved from my table I was nursing a three-foot-long erection.

I invented any number of reasons to keep her coming back to my table, including coffee refills until the lunch crowd began to trickle in.

During the following three weeks I became a regular customer, looking forward to admiring her pretty face and sexy figure. Among other things, I learned she'd been born and raised a mile from the diner, had gone through three boyfriends, all of them losers, the last one harassing her to get back together with him.

Then one morning she greeted me in a dark mood. The ex-boyfriend wasn't taking no for an answer. She elaborated sufficiently to convince me the guy could be mental.

When I offhandedly said I'd be amenable to taking on a traveling companion, she said she'd think about it. I took that as a polite 'no.'

However, a few days later, she had a million questions. Where would she sleep? What did I expect from her in return? When was I leaving? Where was I heading?

After work that afternoon I drove her to the friend's house where she'd been staying and helped move her things. Two days later we hit the road.

We got along well. Because of her size, she found my sofa a tolerable sleeping option. Occasionally we stumbled upon each other half-dressed, but that came with living in such a small space.

Her affectionate nature was a mixed blessing, her warm hugs often leaving me with an ache in my crotch. Each week the hugs got more frequent and warmer, coming damn close to being seductive. And her grin, with its hint of wicked mischief, sometimes made me wonder if she wasn't seeing how far she could tease me.

Although she never did anything overtly sexual, that didn't stop me from dreaming about a day when she might.

Now, five weeks after leaving Oklahoma, we were in a small northern Ohio town where she'd found work at the Breakfast Spot.

***

Cindy nonchalantly slipped out of her skirt and hung it up as if she always undressed in front of me. Her bikini-style panties made an immediate impression on my cock.

She climbed back onto the bed and lay face down. "Is this okay?"

A few X-rated replies ran through my head before I nodded. Still bare-chested, I closed the drawer with the tee-shirts.

Sitting on the edge of the bed I started massaging her left leg. She gave a loud sigh as I rubbed her calf and before I finished with her toes she was snoring.

She woke up when I switched to her other leg.

"Thanks," she said, yawning. "That feels good."

"You're welcome," I said, thinking of other parts of her I'd like to rub.

She let out a long sigh.

I continued with her foot. "What?"

"Nothing."

She wasn't a person of few words so I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't.

"Something bothering you?"

Her reply was curt, just short of angry. "I said it's nothing."

I kept my voice calm to avoid escalating this exchange into an argument. "Okay, I get it."

A minute later, however, she apologized. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I actually had kind of a rough day."

"Oh?"

"My ex-boyfriend knows I'm here."

"'Here' meaning?"

"Here in this town. He knows I work at the Breakfast Spot."

"And how do you know that?"

Cindy rolled over and sat up. "He sent me a letter in care of the restaurant."

"I didn't think people your age wrote letters."

Her grin lasted for a second. "I blocked him on my phone and email and social media."

"Oh."

"Larry, I feel like I need to get out of here."

There were several things I wanted to say, but I kept quiet.

"I hate giving him power over me like this, making me run. But I'm afraid of what he might do."

I scooted closer to her on the bed.

She rubbed her nose. "I'm not sure what to do. Do you know if I got a restraining order, would it be good for the whole country?"

"I don't know."

Here we were: practically naked, sitting next to each other on my bed. Had she ever even sat on my bed before this afternoon? I thought not.

Cindy's voice got me out of my head. "Can we get out of here like tomorrow or something?"

I thought for a moment. "We could move on to New England for the fall. I want to visit Acadia National Park in Maine."

She put her hand on my shoulder, eyes tearing. "I really don't feel safe here."

"Do you mind telling me what he said?"

Her laugh sounded bitter. "Bullshit about me OWING him another chance."

"Did he threaten you?"

She wiped away tears. "He doesn't have to. He knows I get afraid when he's angry."

"Afraid of what?"

"That he'll take it out on me."

"How?"

"You know, yell and stuff, throw things."

There was one question I wanted to ask, but wasn't sure how she'd react. I was trying to be a friend. I wasn't a psychotherapist.

"Has he ever hit you?"

She leaned into my arms, buried her face in my chest and sobbed. Hot tears dripped down my chest onto my stomach. I hugged her as she cried.

Even after she stopped crying she clung to me, her breath hot on my chest. Her breasts felt good against my belly.

Finally she leaned away from me, but kept a hand on my shoulder. Her tear-streaked face was red and swollen. "Thank you. You're a good man."

I patted her shoulder.

She sighed. "Thanks for the foot rub too."

"I wasn't quite finished, but--"

"--well, then," she said, laying on the bed, this time face up.

It was one thing to rub her feet looking at her lovely ass cheeks partially covered by her panties, it was another thing entirely to stare at the front of those same panties. My eyes couldn't leave the dark outline of her pubic region.

She closed her eyes. "You're a good listener. I like you."

"I like you too."

She pounded the mattress with balled up fists. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

Rolling onto her side, she raised her head to look at me, supporting herself on an elbow. She seemed not to care that her left breast had slipped almost entirely out of her bra. "I don't know why..."

She took a deep breath to stifle a sob. "I don't know why..."

The flood gates looked ready to reopen, but she seemed determined to tell me something. "I don't--"

But the dam broke. She grabbed me as she fell back onto the bed, pulling me next to her. We lay side-by-side.

When the sobbing stopped, she kissed my cheek. "You are so good."

I felt conflicted--aroused but unwilling to exploit a troubled young woman. My cock however, did not share my ambivalence.

She kissed me again.

I studied her face like a map, looking for directions as to where she was headed. Her eyes locked onto mine and what I saw made my heart pound.

She kissed me on the lips.

When I didn't pull away, she kissed me again, inviting me into her mouth.

For five miserable weeks I'd endured living with a sexy, young woman who had no interest in satisfying the urges I got when she hugged me or when I saw her partially undressed. Now, suddenly, she seemed ready and willing to allow my dream to come true.

She hugged me.

I looked at her lovely boobs slipping out of her bra.

She tracked the focus of my eyes. "Like what you see?"

"You are sexy."

"So are you."

I snorted. "Yeah, right! I'm almost old enough to be your dad and I'm starting to get a pot belly."

She brushed her hand over my bare chest and squeezed my bicep. "I think you're sexy!"

Her touch sent an electric current to my crotch.

"You're not that much older than me," she said.

"I'm forty-five. I take it you're in your late twenties?"

"Thirty-four. That's just eleven years."

"I don't know. I look at you and I feel like an old geezer."

Her index finger traced a random figure on my chest. I took that as permission to mimic her gesture. I ran a finger along her collarbone, following her bra strap to where it met the cup. She shivered when I reached the cup itself. Then I stroked the tops of her exposed breasts.

She moaned. "Kiss me."

I shivered as her fingers ran through my hair and brushed my chest hair. How could I take this intimacy to the next level? I wondered.

Without warning she broke from our kiss and hopped off the bed.

I cursed silently to myself.

She opened the door to the toilet closet. "Sorry, gotta pee."

I gave her a weak smile, trying to ignore the discomfort in my nether region.

Moments later came the unmistakable sound of peeing--the word 'privacy' does not apply when living in an RV--and then the marine toilet was flushed.

Cindy appeared, breasts tucked into her bra, the crotch of her panties damp enough to show the contours of her labia.

I waited for her to return to bed. Instead, she went downstairs. I heard her open the refrigerator door.

"You want something cold to drink?"

"What are you having?"

"Some grape juice."

"Sounds good."

I held my breath for what she'd say next.

I heard the cupboard door open and then the sound of tinkling glasses. "Should I bring it upstairs?"

Bingo!

"Thank you!"

We sipped the juice sitting against the headboard.

She rested her hand on my arm. "I haven't heard you talk about a girlfriend."

"Your hand's very warm."

"Do you have one stashed away somewhere?"

"Yeah, in the basement."

She gave me a puzzled look.

"You know," I said, "the storage compartment under the bedroom where I keep tools and supplies."

She giggled. "Be serious."

"I've had a fling now and then since I got on the road."

"Fling." She chuckled at the word.

"Yes."

"And how often do you fling them?"

I squeezed her hand. "You mean how often do I get them to fling?"

Her eyes widened for a moment before she grinned.

"I usually get them to fling two or three times."

Cindy gave me a wicked smile. "And they always fling?"

"Without fail."

She nodded. "And what's the most times you've gotten someone to fling?"

I took a moment. "Five."

Cindy smiled. "That's a lot of flings."

I let go of her hand and traced a wiggly line up her arm. "You should have seen her fling. It was amazing. Even when she wasn't aroused, it was prominent, almost like a small penis."

She covered her mouth as she laughed.

"And when I licked her, it grew into this hard protrusion."

"Oh my," Cindy grinned. "I'd love to have my fling sucked like that."

I glanced at her crotch. "Would you now?"

Her face reddened.

She leaned toward me and we kissed.

"I feel safe with you, Larry."

"I'm glad."

She studied my face for a moment. "You turned me on when you ran your finger over the top of my boobs."

"Whoever invented the word 'succulent' must have had your boobs in mind. I could spend a few hours playing with them."

Cindy's eyes widened. She took my hand. "I trust you."

"I appreciate that, Cindy. I promise I'll never intentionally do anything to violate that trust."

She pressed my hand between her breasts. Her eyes welled. She took a deep breath. "I've never felt more comfortable around a man."

Her voice began to break. "And I've never really trusted a man like I do you."

She smiled through her tears. "Larry, I'm so fucking horny right now, but I'm not sure what I want to do about it."

I wiped away her tears. My cock jerked with the hope of imminent relief.

"Would you mind rubbing my back?" she said.

Not the activity I had in mind, but a back rub could be a gateway to other activities. "Of course."

She gave me a peck on the cheek. "How do you want me?"

The question was asked in all innocence, but in my aroused state I looked into the gutter of my mind for not-so-innocent responses; 'with your legs spread wide,' or 'on your hands and knees' were but two of many others.

Instead, I said, "How about I grab the yoga mat and we go downstairs?"

The carpeted living room had just enough space for me to maneuver around the mat. After positioning the mat just so, I remained kneeling.

Cindy tossed her bra on the sofa before laying on her stomach.

Almost immediately she winced when I found a knot in her shoulder.

I took my time working my way down her back. I knew she wouldn't react well to any funny business, but that didn't keep my dirty mind from working overtime to concoct something that would separate her from her panties.

Finally I reached her hips--and those sexy panties. Asking her if she wanted to remove them seemed unwise. Had she wanted to part with them, she would have removed them when she took off her bra.

So close and yet so far away, I thought to myself as I pressed an elbow into her ass cheek, unprepared for her sudden jump and shout. I chuckled. "I guess your glutes are talking to you!"

"And how!"

When I finished her legs she sat up. "It's your turn. Keep your expectations low. I'm not nearly as talented as you, not even close."

I didn't care. I simply craved her hands on my body.

"If you want me to do your legs, probably should lose the jeans, huh?"

I wiggled out of my pants and lay face up on the yoga mat.

Cindy's eyes remained on my bikini briefs. Of course she'd seen me in them when she arrived home from work but now, I hoped, she could dwell on a mental picture of what was causing the bulge beneath them.

She began with my feet. Her touch made me aware of every nerve fiber in my groin.

"Ready for your legs?"

"Would you do my neck and chest first?"

She switched positions, sitting on her heels with my head between her knees.

"Want me to massage your scalp?"

"Oh yes! Sorry I forgot to do that for you."

"Next time."

I was surprised how sensuous her hands felt on my scalp. In my aroused state I came close to ejaculating just from the sensation of her fingers moving through my hair.

She knelt between my legs to rub my feet. "That's quite a pistol you're packing, mister. I can see why your lady friends had so many flings."

"Size isn't everything."

"Not when it comes to boobs. My ex-boyfriend complained mine were too small."

"He doesn't know what he's talking about. You're beautiful."

"Girls with huge tits, I wonder if they don't get back problems."

"I think many of them do. Personally I prefer small."

She gave me a wicked grin. "Today's your lucky day then, isn't it?"

"Isn't it though."

She massaged my thighs. "My ex-boyfriend was always pressuring me to get implants."

"Sounds like someone should pressure him to get a brain implant."

Cindy touched the waistband on my briefs. "Aren't these uncomfortable with you being so big?"

I swallowed hard, trying for nonchalance. "Yeah, it does feels a little uncomfortable."

She chuckled. "Oh well, if it's just a LITTLE uncomfortable, then I guess you can keep them on."

Sonofabitch! Did I ever play that one wrong! I quickly swallowed my pride. "Actually, now that I think about it, I'm very uncomfortable."

Her grin widened into a teasing smile. "If you promise to behave like a good boy I'll let you take them off."

The words "good boy," triggered something in a dark corner of my psyche. What immediately came to mind were those psycho bitches who get off on humiliating men. I ran into one myself a few months before meeting Cindy.

Before I knew it, my irrational self took over. My mouth moved before my brain had a chance to do its usual editing. "What's that supposed to mean, being a good little boy?"