Bonnie

Bonnie didn't think it proper to be early but she needed a drink to steady her nerves. The excitement of meeting a stranger was bordering on paranoia. She began to wonder if she really knew enough about him. What if he was a mass murderer or a pervert?

More realistically she thought they would meet and the chemistry would be zero. That's why she told nobody about this meeting. A secret meeting with a man seemed so exciting a prospect whereas now it was a worry.

They had corresponded for about six months through emails and built up an understanding of each other that rivalled several years of marriage. While still reeling from her husband's death she met him on line. He had been patient and understanding and made her laugh.

Eventually they sent pictures of each other with the rules, no faces, and no naughty bits. He broke a rule by showing a back view with his bum. Such a cute bottom drew her attention forgiving the rule braking. He had a full head of hair too.

She was forty-nine and her friend's husbands were losing theirs. It wasn't an important point but she had to go back over six months of emails, to find one of the first, confirming he was forty-one. She laughed to herself thinking she had a toy-boy. Well almost!

Perhaps this was an earlier photo or maybe it wasn't even him. Well it was too late now. For better or for worse she was here. Her figure was good and everyone told her she looked young. Physical attraction would surely be secondary after all that they had shared in writing.

It was a most dreadful thought, wondering if this meeting might spoil what they had.

'I must stop calling it that, it's a date,' she reminded herself. A smile beamed out lighting up her face. She felt like a teenager again.

"Hi, can I join you," a young man asked.

Bonnie looked up at him still smiling. She felt young and daring tonight so continued to smile. "I'm sorry, I'm meeting someone," she said, while looking around the hotel restaurant.

"I hope you're not 'sorry' to be meeting them," he asked, with mock concern.

Bonnie laughed a light tinkling sound of amusement. The cheeky young man pulled the chair up and sat down. In embarrassment she looked down at her bust then the hem of the dress. Everything was in order, though the gesture had been a subconscious movement.

Bonnie had always been a little shy and was unused to being out unescorted. She was just out of the habit of going out. He certainly wouldn't have been so presumptuous if she were with a man or friends.

Had he joined her as a joke or for a bet with friends? There was no way he would have noticed her sitting here out of the way. Perhaps he was selling something, or worse, he was an evangelist. She was already nervous, now this young idiot might spoil things.

"I'd better introduce myself," he smiled. "I'm Darren and I hope your Bonnie, otherwise I've made a fool of myself," he smiled nervously.

"Darren!" she exclaimed. Trying to recover from the surprise she wondered what was happening. "Darren?" she repeated.

He nodded. She wondered if this too was some kind of joke being played on her. This young man wasn't forty-one or anywhere near. She blurted out, "How old are you?" Seeing the look of disappointment on his face she looked away.

She felt the years creeping back upon her. "I'm sorry," she said. There didn't seem much else to say. The lighting was low and maybe he hadn't caught sight of her properly until he sat down. He was looking at her now though.

She looked away again feeling a blush tint her cheeks. The waiter appeared and she automatically sat up straight. "Are you ready to order, madam?" he asked.

"I'll have a Martini," she ordered. When he waited, she suddenly realised why.

"I'll have a bud light," Darren interrupted.

The waiter looked at her and she nodded. Damn! The waiter thought she was his mother or something. Damn!

"You had better go easy, you're not used to drinking," he said gently.

"Are you? Are you old enough to be drinking," she asked with an acid tone. "I'm sorry; this has been a bit of a jolt," she added.

"I guess we should have established our ages at the start. I realised you were older than me but never thought about it really," he shrugged. From the look he gave her he added, "I'm twenty-two." He left the statement open inviting her to reply.

"I'm nearly twice that," she lied. She felt so foolish. She had been so excited at the prospect of meeting him. She thought he might be her soul mate. How terrible was fate. "I thought you were forty-one," she said anxiously, "your email said so," she added, as though explaining herself and the bad manners.

"It must have been a typo. You don't look it," he smiled.

"What?" she asked not listening. She was busy trying to think of a way out of this.

"You look young. When you smiled at me you looked so tender and innocent. You wouldn't send a proper photo so I was relieved when I saw you. You're a very attractive woman," he shyly smiled.

He was embarrassed and so he should be. She took a long hard look at him while he studied the menu. From his emails she knew he was sincere and a caring person but surely he was just being kind. He was handling the shock better she was. He looked honest and straight forward though. What a pity it could never be.

"I feel I know you so well. I want to get to know you even better," he said.

The earnest look in his eyes went straight to her heart. For a moment he was that slightly younger man she had fallen for. It shook her, admitting she had fallen for him through those emails. It was a privilege of the young to be honest. As you get older you have to be responsible and practical.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. Bonnie hadn't noticed slipping into caring mother mode.

"I guess I am. Couldn't eat anything all day," he laughed.

"Me neither, I'm ravenous," she pronounced. Fortunately the service was faultless so there was only a short awkward silence waiting for a starter.

"Wow! Try this, its just right," he told her.

Being pressed with a fork of spring lamb, smothered in plum sauce, she could hardly refuse. "Mmm, nice," she smiled back at him.

"It's so tender it melts in the mouth," he enthused.

Watching him eat with gusto it was a surprise he tasted anything. A friend said to watch a man eat gave a clue as to how he made love. The thought startled her and she almost choked.

"This duck is gorgeous. It can be so tough if not cooked right," she said, trying to brush aside the thought. She picked up the glass and knocked it back finding it wasn't water or fruit juice. He was right she would have to take it easy.

The rest of the meal was as smooth in conversation as the food was tender. They laughed together pleasantly at first then with the openness of long time friends. A song played quietly in the background and he pointed out it was her favourite.

She had been so absorbed in their conversation it had gone unnoticed. They listened a moment then returned to an animated conversation. She forgot to hold back mentioning incidents from the past, before he was even born. He listened and laughed in all the right places. He shared his hopes for the future and she listened intently.

Bonnie felt young an alive.

"Oh! I didn't know it was this late, have you got a long drive home?" she asked. "You can't drive in this rain all that way! I hate driving at night and in rain too, no way," she sympathised.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I tried to book a room but there's a conference on," he explained.

"I've got a room," she said, with out thinking. "Oh! I didn't mean," she started and blushed, leaving it unfinished.

They sat awkwardly for a moment. "I couldn't stand it if I let you go and something happened to you," she said.

"Well, I guess we are friends enough to share a room. I guess the carpet is deep enough in this place to be comfortable," he laughed.

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully.

"If you feel uncomfortable, it's OK. Anyway I'd keep you awake all night talking," he laughed easily.

"As long as you don't think, I mean, of course," she said, hesitantly.

Sitting up straight in the chair, she put on a determined expression. "We'll put pillows down the middle. I'm enjoying your company and look forward to talking all night," she said firmly.

She heard herself emphasising the word 'talking' just a little too heavily. As though he would be interested in anything else; she was too old. Her face creased up at the thought.

She caught him looking at her with concern. She smiled back, no longer so sure what she was doing. The Martini's didn't help at all. Before he could ask and she was forced to lie about her thoughts, the waiter returned with the bill.

He presented it to her and while Darren rummaged through his pockets she scribbled the room number on it. As an after thought she added a generous tip.

Nothing was going to happen but still she felt naughty. He caught her mood and so like a pair of adolescents they sneaked off to the elevators. Not looking in the mirror they stared at the digital numbers as they climbed to five.

"The carpet is plush but doesn't look very comfortable," he joked.

He pulled off his shirt over his head in one easy movement. She stood quite still staring at his back recognising it from the times she had studied the photo. Just to try and discern as much about him from it, that was all. He was undoing his belt and she gasped.

"Oh! Sorry, shall I turn out the light?" he asked innocently. "I didn't think you would be shy," he said.

He walked passed her to the light. So close she could smell him. The aroma of deodorant had never been so gorgeous.

"Here, let me help," he offered.

She felt him unzip the dress. She had spent an age selecting just the right clothes. It was expensive and showed off her figure in an elegant style. It was not for this young man so was it a waste of time and money?

Damn! She had even worn stockings and suspenders from one of his emails. It hadn't been a naughty email it was just a musing between them. She had asked why men liked them. Alright they had been flirting but that's all.

Bonnie couldn't reveal them now. He would laugh or think her silly or more likely too old.

The dress slipped from her shoulder and he put both hands on them. "You feel tense. I could give you a massage if you like," he offered.

A massage! Damn! She couldn't let him see her body let alone touch it. "I'll go to the bathroom," she murmured. In emails he had recounted progress while learning the techniques of massage. When he qualified she had congratulated him and he had promised a massage. She had dreamed of being in his hands. None of that was possible now.

In the bathroom she dare not put the light on to see herself in the mirror. The soft emergency light running along the floor would have to be enough. Going through the usual routine helped calm her. She snuggled into the fluffy hotel bathrobe feeling more secure. Still she hesitated.

"My turn," he said.

She walked in avoiding looking at him. Quickly pulling a couple of pillows down the bed she slipped in between the sheets. The huge bed didn't seem so big anymore. He was quiet in there. She was used to husband noises. The only experience she had of sharing a room with a man.

She heard him walk in. The sounds were muffled with one ear pressed into a pillow and the duvet up to her nose. She pressed her eyes closed not daring to see him in his underwear. She could still see the top of his cute ass for it was burnt into memory from that lovely photo.

The duvet lifted and she opened her eyes wide. "You are so tense you won't be able to sleep at all," Darren told her.

Holding her shoulders he turned her from her side onto her tummy. All she could think of was being thankful to have such expensive new underwear on. At home she just wore whatever fit, not bothering about it matching. It covered her modestly, more than a bikini, but this wasn't a pool or the beach this was a bed! Opening her mouth to protest she sighed instead.

He put his hands flat on her back, "This is your time this is for you, your comfort. All you have to do is relax. You are safe and this is a safe place," he said.

His voice was professionally gentle and calming. The deep warm timber of the tones lulled her. The feel of his warm hands on her skin wasn't just pleasant it was electric.

She worried that her body might let her down, that she might fart; that wasn't what really worried her. "You shouldn't be doing this," she sighed, not moving to resist.

"I need the practise," he said.

The gentle laughter in his tone of voice made her happy.

"You're not a client you're a friend, so can I unclip your bra," he asked quietly.

The whisper in her ear, the waft of breath across the small delicate hairs on her neck walked her into another place. It was as though they strolled hand in hand on a beach through the surf. She would say yes to anything.

Soft firm hands stroked her back, like a butterfly they teased her backbone. He rolled the back of her panties lower to reach further. A moment of hesitation was all she managed before slumping back into the pleasure zone.

He had explored almost every part of her body. The remaining privacy seemed to be crying out for his caresses. She wanted him to touch those places that had been neglected for such a long time.

"I cannot resist, but will if you cannot bear it. I want to touch you everywhere," he whispered.

At first she couldn't bring herself to understand what he meant. Had he really suggested what she needed? Not daring to speak, in case she misunderstood or dreamed it, she nodded her head.

Now on her back she felt the bra slipped off to reveal her breasts. She didn't want to but had to open her eyes. If there was disappointment on his face what would she do; besides cover her poor body and cry.

He didn't see her slit eyes in the poor light. He was admiring her breasts. He had them cupped in both hands holding them gently like little creatures needing tender care. She watched him bend to them knowing what he was about yet somehow curious as to what was happening. It was a surprise yet not unexpected when he gently kissed a nipple.

She watched him as though it were happening to someone else. He sucked the nipple pulling it and as much of her breast as he could into his mouth. He was nibbling on a nipple and felt it swelling all the more.

When he moved to the other she gasped in expectation. It seemed all the more wonderful. She lifted her breast up to him as an offering. He let it go gradually so it sprang back into his cupped hand.

He turned toward her face moving close. His lips touched hers and she moaned. He licked her lips sensitising them to every contact. When his tongue met hers she realised her mouth had opened up to him.

Her whole body was responding to him without the slightest direction from her. How could she possibly resist? Still it seemed as though she were watching some other body being caressed.

Feeling his hand touch her down there it seemed to drag her back inside. The full force of what he had being doing and was doing, her hit. All the sensations, from her breasts, her nipples, her lips and her tongue, swamped her mind. He held her chin, working on her mouth, and held her sex in the palm of his hand.

A desperate thought crossed her mind that she hadn't used a lubricant then his fingers touched her. She had been leaking into her panties for some time. It was a surprise he had brought her to such a state.

She was so very wet and so very open to him down there too. She felt his fingers pressing her bud. He had found it easily for she was so swollen and hard. A twinge of guilt nudged her on realising she had never been so wanton before.

"You are so beautiful. I want to make love to you. I want to make you mine. I want you're large breasts, you're lovely round ass, your long legs, I want your pussy," he told her.

His heavy breathing matched hers, breaking up the sounds, making them sound exotic. She would never have spoken as she did had she not be so carried away. In desperation she told him, "Take me, do it to me, I'm yours," she moaned.

Feeling his weight was a joy. He rested on his elbows but she wanted to feel his arms around her, to be squashed, to feel a part of him. His cock touched her sensitive lips. She held her breath wanting to feel every touch. A ragged cry of joy came from deep within her stomach on feeling his cock enter her.

He was taking her. He was making her his. He was piercing her flesh. He was filling her with a rod of iron. Her breathe was dragged into her lungs on every up stroke as though he were pumping her up. She fought back with her hips, thrusting up at him to capture his weapon.

"I'm nearly there, keep going," she breathed.

He was young and virile able to keep going all night. There was no need to encourage him for he was a mighty stallion mounting his mare. He felt powerful, on top of the world, wanting the feeling to go on and on.

"Harder, deeper," she yelped. "I'm cumin, don't move," she pleaded.

Darren heard nothing for he too was in the throes of an orgasm. His chest heaved and his face returned to a pleasant self-satisfied smile.

She levered him off her. He slid to her side where she captured his head to cradle it on an arm. She pushed his face into her breast watching him nuzzle it for a moment. He fell asleep with her stroking his hair. She stroked his broad back with his lovely hard bottom just out of reach.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She told herself she needed this. She had been well and truly taken by a handsome young man. Damn the consequences she had enjoyed every moment. She tried to recall every touch to savour it and remember it. It was unlikely to ever happen again so she would squeeze every drop of pleasure from the wonderful experience.