I slept well. As my financial situation improved daily, a new positivity welled from deep inside me. After a light breakfast, I felt good trotting out of Celia's boarding house at 7:30 a.m. to meet friends at the gym.
My training regime was harsh, something I was mindful of, knowing I had services to perform. Any decline in my libido or testosterone levels through working out would be unfair to clients paying good money for my services as their bull.
After my workout, I cringed when finishing a Kale-based smoothie at the gym snack bar. Aspen took the empty glass and smiled cutely at me, then tried again to engage me in a conversation.
"I heard you left your job, Andrew."
"I couldn't pay my rent, so I needed to find something new."
"What are you doing now?"
I hadn't thought of a cover story and panicked. I was sure Aspen caught that because a tiny, wry grin appeared on an otherwise relaxed face.
I'm going to be outed.
"I have some personal training clients."
"Is that what it's called these days?"
There was no escape from the conversation unless I left abruptly. She stared into me, examining the core of a man I knew Aspen wanted but couldn't have.
"I must leave now, or I'll be late, Aspen."
"Before you go, could I ask a question?"
"What is it?"
"However you answer, I promise to keep that between us."
"Okay. Now I'm intrigued."
"Most guys want to date me. That's not a bigheaded statement. I have to push serious advances back at least a half dozen times every day, to say nothing of the constant flirting. It's exhausting, to be honest."
"And you want to know if the same applies to me?"
"Oh no, it's not that. I know you have women and some guys hitting on you constantly."
"What is it then?"
"I've made it obvious to you that I'm interested in dating, but you always reject me. That's your right, of course, but I just wondered why."
I dropped my training gear bag on the floor and leaned across the counter because I didn't want to be overheard.
"I fall in love too easily."
"What? That's it? You're afraid of falling in love?"
"It's more nuanced than that, but yeah, that's probably an accurate but straightforward synopsis."
"Nuanced how?" She thought for a moment, then held up a hand. "You don't have to answer that because you owe me no explanation."
I leaned heavily on one of the cafe stools, considering what and how much to reveal. The heart of the matter was precisely that, my problem was where a collision between romance, love, and sex occurred.
"Imagine if we dated and I catch feelings, but you don't."
"It's called hooking up and trying each other out, Andrew."
"And that's the problem, Aspen, I can't hook up without catching some feelings."
"Oh, I see."
"Look, I have to leave, sorry."
Aspen nodded a polite goodbye, smiling broadly, but I recognized from her expression that she was far from convinced. She was beautiful and desirable, pleasant to talk to, and probably someone's perfect wife, but it wasn't for me, at least not right now.
The short walk back to my lodgings was pleasant. Rush hour had diminished, the sun was out but not too strong, and I felt lifted. A coffee shop nearby wafted freshly ground beans to a fifty-yard radius, and I caught them, homing in like a guided missile on flared nostrils.
"Hello, Carla."
"Oh my, Andrew, how lovely to see you."
My lover sat outside the coffee shop enjoying a freshly brewed Latte. Carla looked gorgeous, just the type of woman you could spend the day with and never grow bored. She wore a loose-fitting, ankle-length white cotton skirt with a strappy blouse barely containing voluptuous naked breasts.
Through almost sheer fabric, I caught sight of the solid nipples I'd enjoyed sucking the day before, and she smiled knowingly, having caught me looking.
"They have no caramel mom. I'll take it without.... oops, sorry."
"It's okay, let me get that for you."
A pretty woman around my age ran out of the coffee shop door without looking, bumping into me dropping her takeout cup. She'd been aiming for Carla's table, so it was safe to assume I was about to meet a daughter. Another giveaway was the similar look the two women shared.
I picked up her cup and handed it back.
"I can get you a refill if that helps. I was about to order mine anyway."
"Are you sure? Would you mind?"
"Not at all."
"Oh, hang on. Were you joining us?"
"No, I was just saying hello to Carla."
She studied me carefully and probably caught my semi-erection, caused mainly by her mother's nipples and the memory of a fabulous day in bed. When our eyes met, her clarity of deduction and curious expression terrified me.
"Is this him, mom?"
Oh fuck.
"Yes, dear. Samantha, meet my bull, Andrew."
I felt like a rabbit caught between headlights. My eyes glanced in every direction while my soul begged the universe to open a portal that I might leap through. With no place to run, I stared, terrified, at the woman smiling up.
"What the fuck Carla?"
"Don't get all prudish on me, Andrew; I told my family about our lovely tryst yesterday."
Samantha looked utterly unfazed by my shock and horror. She offered her hand, and I took and shook it almost, but not quite reluctantly. She was amused by my condition, and so was her mom, giggling like two schoolgirls, clawing a hand over her mouth.
"It's good you pumped something into Mom because she's been far less quarrelsome than usual today."
I was speechless, processing the situation, wondering how any mother and daughter could be quite so open about one another's sex life. Samantha placed a calming hand on mine, and I almost leaped out of my skin.
"Please don't be concerned. Mom's need to enjoy an occasional lover is well understood in our family. My father approves of it, so why would I interfere, or you worry?"
"Umm, okay. Do you want that coffee?"
I need to escape.
"To-go Latte, please, add one sugar because they have no caramel."
As I walked away, it was apparent they would discuss me. I half turned around and glanced back while ordering, seeing fits of giggles and what appeared to be approving expressions. My phone buzzed repeatedly, so I checked messages.
It was Celia.
Don't forget about 1 pm.
I won't, don't worry. I am just grabbing a coffee.
She's a new client who booked the whole afternoon and early evening, wanting a boyfriend experience.
Okay. I'll take her to my bedroom.
Are you sure?
Yeah. If you don't think it's tidy enough, you can check.
I'll change your sheets and duvet cover, just in case.
Thanks, Celia.
I stood at the end of a highly polished wooden counter, waiting for our drinks. I'd selected a position where I could observe my lover and her daughter, who were still chuckling. When I arrived back at the table, Carla smiled, almost affectionately, while Samantha stood up and took her drink, ready to leave.
"I must leave now, but please don't feel embarrassed, Andrew. Mom tells me you are an excellent lover, which satisfies everyone because, without a good bedding from time to time, she's really fucking curmudgeonly."
"Okay. It was nice to meet you."
Please, will you just fucking go!
Samantha left as quickly as she'd bumped into me. I was caught wrong-footed, unsure if I should join Carla or withdraw quietly.
"Do sit down, Andrew. I prefer my hookers when they aren't standing on a street corner."
I looked in every direction, realized I really was standing on a street corner like a spare part, and slid quickly into a wrought-iron chair painted bottle green far too many times.
"Lovely coffee, horrible furniture."
"I agree. These chairs are awful."
She leaned across the table, eying me like I was lunch and she, a tigress on the hunt.
"I'm buying the place, Andrew."
"Seriously?"
"Yep."
"Is that a sound investment?"
"It's the closest and best coffee shop to my front door, and I hate coming here because it's so shabby. I'll invest and have it smartened up. If you're a good boy, you'll have a lifetime of free coffee."
"You'll go bankrupt."
"Not going to happen, my lover."
"Okay, well... good luck."
"It's a good investment for me, Andrew."
"I believe you."
"If you enjoy something, always treasure it."
I lifted my cup to hers, chinking the slightly chipped white porcelain crockery together. She made another c'est la vie expression, turning her head and pursing both lips while frowning.
We talked for a couple of hours until I eventually had to leave and prepare for my date.
"Another appointment, Andrew?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I would never say Carla."
"Enjoy her, my dear. I'm sure she'll have a great time."
I stood up, started to leave, thought twice, and then turned back.
"Could I kiss you goodbye, please, Carla?"
"Why?"
"I'd like to."
"Cheek or lips?"
"Up to you."
"Okay, Andrew. Take whatever kiss you want, sweetheart."
I gently cupped her chin in the palm of my hand, turning Carla's head sideways. Her elder stateswoman beauty hooked me again, and a familiar hardness in my crotch pushed against my training pants.
My lips brushed against hers, and a loving warmth surged through my heart. Our tongues collided in a shower of sparks, with mine tingling at the tip, then rippling with pleasure radiating outwards through my body.