It was several weeks before Marybeth ever allowed herself an excuse to visit Albert's room. She had left the nursing home only a week ago, but ever since that day where Albert had taken her in the bathroom... well, to say the least, Marybeth had never felt the same again. She was due to be back at the university in a matter of days, but something continued to hold her back. She didn't know if it was the secret fact that she longed to try Albert again, or the fact that what happened didn't seem real. He had played her body like an instrument and left her wanting. It was so embarrassing the way that she would grow wet when helping people to the bathroom so they could bathe or use the toilet. Her body tensed with anticipation of being grabbed a hold of and bent over again. Of course, no one tried to and since she kept from Albert's room, she had been left to her own fantasies.
She had often found herself masturbating just before jumping into the shower when no one was home. It wasn't because she had some sick fetish with the toilet, at least she hoped she didn't, but because that was where Albert had taken her. All she had been able to see was the toilet and her image reflected back in the mirror. She often wondered if Albert had watched them fuck in the mirror. Seen the way her breasts jiggled. Her eyes had been closed at that point and how she dearly wished they hadn't been. Albert was a tall man with pale blond hair. She had seen images of him when he was younger, and it had always looked so startling close to white, but a soft buttery color that kept it from appearing so. He had pale blue eyes and despite his age, there was still muscle to his body. Lean is what she would call him. She hadn't expected such strength in a man his age.
Now, back in Saint Mercy's, Marybeth felt a tingle of excitement skitter down her spine. She had dressed for this occasion. At the front desk she said that she was going to take Albert out for ice cream. Since he was completely healthy, both physically and mentally, there was nothing wrong with that. They merely had to check out and check back in. The girl working the desk just smiled and nodded, allowing Marybeth to go back as she pleased. Making her way to Albert's room, butterflies quickly filled her stomach. When she had passed him in the halls her last few days here, he had just smiled at her. Not a smirk or a leer, but smiled; that in part made her wonder if she had dreamed the whole event. Little did she know that Albert had kept her torn thong. He wasn't a sentimental man by nature, but the soft scent of Marybeth's arousal clung to the fabric and late at night he enjoyed breathing in the soft scent, remembering the feel of her body beneath him. He never went so far as to touch himself, despite the fact that he did get aroused by his memories.
He was reading his morning paper when Marybeth came in. Thankfully his roommate was gone, off to visit with relatives or some such nonsense. Looking up over the top of the paper at the timid knock at the door, he was a bit surprised, and extremely glad, to see Marybeth standing there. He noticed right off that she was dressed up. Soft make up touched her features. She had drawn her hair up into a low ponytail that curled down to the middle of her back. He had never seen her hair down so he had never known the length of her dark tresses, or the fact that there was a curl to it. Of course, he realized that could have been managed by a curling iron. She wore a soft, white summery skirt that reminded him of petticoats from a time ago. A dark blue tank top demurely covered her upper body, making her eyes seem a lighter blue than they normally were. A jean jacket covered her arms and white sandals were on her feet. He could see the pretty pedicure she had gotten. Marybeth looked like heaven to him, all young and feminine. The uncertainty and embarrassment brought color to her pale features, making her seem more womanly than ever. He knew instantly she wasn't certain of the reception she would receive after her long absence, and he wasn't about to pass the moment up.
Clearing his throat, he ruffled his paper a bit and looked down at the words, not actually reading them but making an appearance to do so. "Is there something you require, miss?" He didn't even make an attempt to use her name. A peek over the paper showed him the disappointment in Marybeth's face, the faint color in her cheeks deepening and starting to spread over all of her features.
"I..." She started but then stopped. She took a few hesitant steps inward, her feet shuffling on the floor. "Albert, could we talk?"
Her voice sounded hopeful and pleading at the same time, the soft scent of her perfume filling his senses to the point he was already growing hard in his pants. Giving her a stern look as he glanced at her over his paper he spoke in a deep authoritative voice. "Close the door."
Marybeth looked at the door then back to him, uncertainty lighting her features once more, drawing her full strawberry kissed lips into a pout. But she did it anyway; that made Albert smirk behind his paper. She was willing to be agreeable, which made him wonder what she wanted. The sudden thought crossed his mind that she might be back for her panties. When she looked back at him, Marybeth caught Albert's scowl, and not knowing the reason for it, she quickly blundered through what she wanted to say. "Albert, I... I... I was hoping to take you out. Ice cream or something and...." She cut herself off, blushing so deeply that it traveled down her neck and chest. Seeing that she wasn't after what evidence he had of their time together he relaxed, quickly coming to understand what was going on. She had come to him.
It was rather a heady thought thinking that this nineteen year old beauty was interested in a man sixty-seven years her senior, to the point that she was now here offering to take him out. The snide thought that no doubt she wanted a good fucking slipped into his mind, but the next thought that followed just made him want to grin. He had said she would have to prove herself. He kept his face stern the entire time he thought this, letting the silence fill the room a moment before he spoke. "And what if I don't want to go out for 'ice cream'?"
Marybeth looked a bit flustered and taken back by his question. Her fingers played with the hem of her jacket before she crossed her arms beneath her breasts, a defensive move. "Well... what are you in the mood for?" To her that seemed like a better question.
She watched as Albert all but angrily folded his paper and set it to his bedside table. He gave her the type of look many parents have given their children when they said something foolish. "I am not some boy too wet behind the ears to not know what you want, Marybeth, and I don't appreciate your attitude, especially after your treatment of me."
