Rockets First Visit 2

Sylvia, my wife of 16 years, wanted a life of excitement and nothing I did was enough to satisfy her insatiable appetite for adventure. She demanded lavish vacations, dream houses in exotic locations, sex acts I wasn't inclined to perform. I was only focused on the future, not the present. The pandemic changed that.

We had been saving since I began my career as an accountant and Sylvia insisted it would be a perfect opportunity to travel. I felt it was too risky. Accountants could easily work from home so why risk leaving the house and getting sick? My protests convinced her I wasn't the type to take chances. Long or short, life was passing us by. I condemned us to the here and now -- no future, no adventure, no romance. We drifted apart until our arguments became faint whispers. Soon there was no communication at all.

We didn't part on bad terms, she simply left and never looked back. She was right. I needed more excitement in life, but I didn't need anyone breathing down my neck with disapproval. Nothing about our relationship would have ever changed, but maybe something about me could.

***

The vibrancy of a neighborhood coffee shop was more depressing than the isolation of my dreary apartment. In the 6 months since my wife left, I failed to adapt to the casual interaction of younger patrons. But something else troubled me. An employee that stood about 5'6" with a tight skirt, brown hair and an "Isabel" name tag pinned to her white blouse was impossible to ignore.

I overheard her conversations with Peep about college girls that entered the shop. Peep was a muscly guy working the counter with shaggy blonde hair and a Justin Bieber cuteness. He may have been more than a co-worker -- her best friend, boyfriend, lover -- why did I care? My 44-year-old mind was lost in places it didn't belong, especially with a woman half my age.

When Isabel found me bewildered by the endless menu of beverages, she recommended a lavender latte, reached for the syrup on the shelf above -- her breasts tightened, lifting her blouse, exposing her creamy smooth stomach -- while peering at me with a curious expression. She handed me the steaming cup with an alluring smile. Perhaps she gave everyone the same smile, but to me it felt sweeter. Her passionate eyes and scent of patchouli raised goosebumps and I succumbed to my emotions, flashed a weak smile and whimpered, "Thank you so much."

It was pathetic. Who was I fooling? Did she prefer a middle-aged accountant -- 5'10" with business cut hair and wire frame glasses -- over a blonde muscular dude with a nice bulge but no brains? Not a chance. She was a beautiful outgoing woman with the admiration of everyone who came through these doors. I was invisible. I took my coffee to a far off table to sit alone with my fantasies.

***

Isabel plopped herself into the chair next to me and brushed her hair back, "Whoa, standing behind that counter sure can make a girl wanna lie down. Don't you agree?"

I had no idea how to respond. I shifted on the wooden chair and tugged at my pants to relieve a wedgie. She asked, "What are you playing with?"

"Nothing."

"Oh? I knew lavender was an aphrodisiac, but I didn't know it would make you a monster."

"Um... Shouldn't you be working?"

"You seem to be working it just fine. What do you think my job is anyway?"

I was overwhelmed by her beauty and all I could do was babble, "Are you getting off soon?"

She nodded at my crotch, "Are you?"

"Why are you making it so hard for me?"

Shocked by my accusation, she responded, "I'm not making it hard. I'm not even the one who's playing with it."

I stood up to leave. Isabel said, "Hey, don't go. I'm just joking around. Listening to Peep all day makes me forget my manners."

"Well, my name is Rocket Harding and I really have to go. But I'd like to talk again sometime."

She examined me suspiciously, "Is that your best line?"

"Yup."

I didn't know what to make of her. I visualized elaborate sexual encounters as she looked me over with prying eyes. When I turned to leave, she brushed my hand, "I'll have something waitin' for you at the counter, on me. Same time tomorrow, okay?"

I nodded and quickly escaped before I had the chance to say anything stupid.

***

I couldn't get Isabel off my mind. Was she really interested in me or was she trying to make a maladjusted old man feel comfortable? And what about Peep? Was she attracted to him? Everyone else was. Not even the Beatles had so many eyes blinking at them.

I didn't know how to approach Isabel. Should I ask her on a date? Do people her age go on dates? Her age was the real issue. Someone my age could turn me down without any controversy, but pursuing a younger woman -- is that the right word, pursuing?

This was hopeless. I just needed to be reasonable. There were times to be cautious but this wasn't one of them. I came up with a plan. It was childish, but it was all I had. I would leave a notebook for Isabel to find with my address written in it so she could bring it back to me. If several days passed and I didn't see her, I'd have to get my coffee somewhere else.

***

When I returned to the coffee shop the following afternoon, there was a cup with "Rocket" written on it sitting on the counter. I grabbed it and waded through the Friday crowd to a dark corner table like a lost tourist. I was delighted to see Isabel finally escape and make her way toward me.

She sat down, "You look more comfortable today."

"My underwear is a bit looser."

She smiled, "You do have a sense of humor."

"I try. Hey, this coffee is especially good today. What did you put in there?"

"A secret spice. Make sure none of it got stuck in your teeth when you show your charming smile."

She pretended to pay no attention when I brushed my teeth with the side of my finger and looked around to make sure nobody noticed, but I could see her glancing out of the corner of her eyes and the devilish smile she hid from me. A giggling crowd of girls came in. Isabel said, "Oh no, I have to go. Peep's about to become a rock star and nothing will get done. We'll talk again soon."

"Promise?"

"I promise. I'd never lie to you." She winked and clicked her tongue.

I liked the attention but wondered if she realized how much her words meant to me. I was stunned when she bent down to reveal her cleavage and give me a peck on the cheek before trotting to the counter. I left without finishing my coffee since I didn't need any more stimulation. I fumbled with the notebook, carefully positioning it on the table and escaped while Isabel played referee at the counter.

***

A knock came at my apartment door around 9 o'clock that evening. I saw a beautiful silhouette through the peep hole and opened the door.

Isabel held up the notebook, "You could have just invited me."

I stepped aside to let her in, "Was it that obvious?"

"You would never forget a notebook. I watched you adjust it before you left. Very clever."

"You were you watching me?"

She smiled, "Does that surprise you?"

"A little. Why don't you take a seat and I'll get us something to drink."

Isabel had removed her shoes and made herself comfortable on the couch. I set two glasses of wine on the coffee table and sat down next to her. She looked at me with her deep blue eyes and licked her lips, "So what do you do in the evenings when you don't have company?"

"Nothing much. Read, watch TV." I looked at her and continued, "I think about... stuff." I quickly broke my gaze and grabbed our drinks. "Here, I brought you some wine."

As I handed her the glass in my left hand, she looked carefully to see any evidence of a wedding ring. She said, "You need to get out, expand your horizons a little."

"You sound like..."

"Your Ex? I'm sorry. Were you married?"

I didn't want to ruin our evening with a long explanation. "Sylvia and I were married for 16 years. We split up."

She sipped and said, "Yeah? How long ago?"

"About 6 months."

She set the glass on the table, "Okay, I really should go."

"No, please stay. I'm okay, really. You make me feel better than she ever did."

Isabel said, "Well, it seems like you got through the breakup without thinking the whole world sucks, but I can't be sure."

"The world doesn't suck, just some of the people in it. One of them left me 6 months ago and I avoid the rest."

"Well, I'm glad you're single. So many men your age are looking for affairs."

This is what concerned me. She might have gotten hurt in the past and I didn't want to return her to painful memories. I said, "I hope you don't think I'm like that. Really, I was just looking for some good coffee and an escape from this gloomy apartment."

She observed the room, "Yeah, it really could use some color. What men do in their lives is their own business, but I don't want to deal with a jealous woman. Anyway, I won't harp on a sensitive subject."

"There's no sensitivity where my ex is concerned. She took all I had to offer and it wasn't enough. She won't be back."

"You don't have to explain anything to me. Every relationship is its own variation of unique and cliche."

"You're right. And I promise not to talk about her anymore."

We sat silently sipping wine. I didn't know where the conversation had left us, but Isabel set her empty glass on the table and said, "Before we go any further, there's something you should know. I'm polyamorous."

"Right and left-handed? That could be interesting."

Isabel sighed, "It means having relationships with multiple partners at the same time."

"Oh... Isn't that against the rules or something?"

"It's about relationships, not a game show. But does it bother you?"

"I'm not in a position to be bothered by anything. I'm lucky you even talk to me."

"Why? You're a kind and special person."

"I don't need one of those Richard Simmons' speeches. Whatever people do is fine with me, I'm done with judgment. I've got myself to look after now."

"That's a healthy attitude." Isabel dropped her eyebrows, "At least I think it is?"

"Well, it works for me." I stood up to refill our glasses.

Isabel grabbed my hand and I bent down, unprepared for the steamy passion of our kiss. She started undressing but I took over, unbuttoning her blouse, unclasping her bra and pressing them along her arms until they fell away from her body. I fervently caressed her breasts, tasted her nipples and when I looked in her eyes, she gave me a mischievous smile.

She sat on the edge of the couch, unzipped my pants and pulled them down to my ankles. As I stepped out of them, she pulled down my underwear and let them drop to the floor. My cock hardened as she took it in her hands and rubbed it on her nipples. Her lips puckered around the head and her fingertips tenderly led me into her mouth.

I brushed her hair from her cheeks and watched her lips move up and down, leaving glistening trails of saliva on my skin. It had been so long since I felt this good or been with anyone so compassionate. She squeezed my thighs, my knees shuddered, my legs tightened -- I jerked away.

Isabel complained, "You don't like it?"

I gasped, "Like it? Oh my god! I almost exploded in your mouth!"

"Why didn't you?"

I caught my breath and said, "Maybe we should move to the bed so I can lie down."

Isabel didn't hesitate to peel off her skirt and run into the bedroom. For me it was more of a struggle since my knees were still weak from her warm-up. When I saw her lying back on the bed with her legs over the side, I knelt down and took her feet in my hands. She giggled as I kissed her toes and my tongue slithered between them.

I felt goosebumps on her skin as my mouth flowed up her thighs and spread her delicate pussy. I pressed my finger inside her and curled it, forcing her clit deeper into my mouth. Her back arched and stomach tightened. Her pussy clenched my finger and quivered, tasting sweeter with each orgasmic burst.

Isabel caught her breath and said, "Now it's your turn." She crawled under the covers and rolled onto her back. Her seductive smile welcomed me as I lowered myself between her legs and her feet nestled against my thighs. Soothing moisture surrounded my cock as it stretched her velvety warm skin. I wrapped my arms under her shoulders, pressing our stomachs together and penetrating further. I moved smoothly in and out, licking her neck as my cock explored the depth of her body. She bit my shoulder and moaned as her breasts rose and settled with each deep breath.

Isabel tilted her head back and arched her body as she lustfully pulled me deeper. The whisper of rustling sheets surrounded us as the bed filled with the warmth of our bodies. I trembled -- Isabel released a sigh of ecstasy as I withdrew and creamy fluid flowed onto her stomach. Her eyes grew wider as she spread it along her body and between her breasts. She held me and breathed softly in my ear while my body relaxed and finally stopped shaking. We pulled each other closer as our lips pressed together.

***

After waking up alone in cold sheets and a lifeless apartment for six months, I welcomed the whir of the coffee grinder that shook me from my sleep in a warm bed I had shared with someone. I entered the kitchen to find Isabel standing at the counter. Her skimpy bra barely covered her nipples and her panties allowed her lower bottom to escape their tight grasp.

I wanted to throw my arms around her, but that wouldn't have been wise as she poured hot water. A nutty aroma filled the air while golden fluid flowed into the glass carafe. She heard me approach and confessed, "It's not quite the same without my special Izzy recipe, but it'll wake you up."

I asked, "So that's what you call the secret recipe?"

"Yes. It's a careful ratio of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves. It sexually arouses people."

"You can do that without the coffee. I guess I should call you Izzy from now on."

She gave me a soft smile -- her eyes twinkling as she handed me the coffee. I was afraid of what would happen when she left my apartment. The last time someone walked out the door, I never saw them again.