Dividing By Through

All individuals in this story are over 18.

I'm 58.

When I was twenty-five, I was with a seventeen year old named Aretha, who by the death of both of her parents was alone at seventeen. (Yes, I know. Being an early pedophile.) But she was seventeen going on thirty-five. She was going to school full time, and also working part-time, which paid both the mortgage on the house and as well as food for her to live.

When I was twenty-eight, I had another 'girlfriend' who was also seventeen (Angie) at the time. We met when we were hitchhiking, and at that point she was on the run from the FBI. Seemed that the house where she had been living in in New York City had been blown up when her "comrades" pipe bomb making went the wrong way. Luckily for her (I guess), she was not at home.

Two different women; two very different stories. Aretha was for all intents and purposes, mature for her age. Angie, while mature at times, could revert to a five year old at the drop of a hat.

I was with Aretha for about a year. I was with Angie for about six days. But oh those six days.

I'd been with women in their (almost) twenties who seemed to be much older than their age, and I'd been with women in their forties and fifties who seemed to be very much younger. I had had a hard time knowing which was which.

So when I walked into a bar just before Christmas, I was expecting maybe a mature, but distraught woman more of my age to find.

What instead I found, was Her.

------------------

She was sitting at the bar with her head in one hand, and her other tightly gripping her beer. With her hair and childlike face, she looked like she was fifteen, but I knew she had to be at least twenty-one to be in this bar with that drink. But her expression had the look and anguish of a forty year old. She was way too young for a that look.

She had that kind of hair that was between blond and brown, but not quite a dirty blond, but was usually described as mousy brown. And I could see that she was fairly tiny. Well, at least compared to some of the other women around her. Is she Bulimic? No, I thought. Just small. Fragile.

While I was watching her, several college dudes walked up to her and tried to get her on the dance floor. None of them succeeded, as she told them "Fuck Off" and "No," in slightly varying degrees of nasty reaction.

Ok, I thought. I shouldn't be going after someone that young anyway. That's predator territory, someone my age going after someone her age. But she sat there, looking so despondent. And since I did not see anyone else around my age, I decided to sit down and talk to, or at least commiserate with her.

As the seat opened up next to her, I sat down. I ordered my beer from the female bartender, and paused before breaking into her obvious misery.

"Hi, my name is Michael," I said, not really expecting a reply.

She turned in my direction, barely seeming to notice me, and I was about to mind my own business when she said (barely audibly), "Caitlyn." She turned a little bit more and seemed to wake out of her misery.

"Why are you so down," I asked her, almost worried for this 'girl' that I didn't even know.

"Why do you think? It's almost Christmas, and I'm alone."

"No family? No friends? No work Christmas Party? Or are you still in school?"

"No," was all she said.

"If you want to be left alone, please just tell me and I will."

At this, she turned again and actually looked at me with what I later recognized was a sultry look. "I vant to be alone," she said in her best Greta Garbo interpretation.

"Ok," I said, getting up to allow her to do just that.

"Wait," she said as she grabbed my arm. "That was a joke," she said, looking down (up?) at me through her eyelashes trying to play the chanteuse. Not the average twenty something by any stretch.

"You don't know irony when you hear it? she asked me, "Do you?" with a slightly wicked grin beginning to form on her face. Yes, not your average...

So I sat back down. Pausing again to figure this girl out. I asked her, "So, you must have family?" I asked her, hoping I wasn't stepping out of line.

Returning to staring a hole in her beer glass, I saw her whisper another "No." This young girl was even lonelier that I was. "But you had those boys trying to get you to dance with them. Yes?"

"

Boys

. That's right. I'm so fucking sick and tired of... boys."

Ok. I wanted to tell her, 'Well I'm a man. Do you just need someone to listen?' But I thought against it. I was trying to remember how old I was, and how old she is. But I just couldn't stand someone who seemed so alone being so alone. Even if it was only just being there for her.

"What about you?" she asked. "Why are you alone here?"

I started to say something about no friends or family as well. But I didn't want to admit that, at my age I just didn't have anyone in my life. I had said goodbye to most of my friends and my family, and hadn't managed to find some new friends to replace them.

And then after a nasty divorce, I was gun-shy when it came to women. Almost said, 'Kinda pathetic. But, no, I don't.'

Instead, "I dunno. It just happened. Family was so religious, friends began drifting away. All of a sudden..."

"Yeah. Like that."

What else could I say to her? What else could I ask that wasn't condescending? She was so sad and morose. And at her age, most of her age group were all hooting and hollering around us. But she was just... solemn.

"Well, I'm sorry for bothering you," I told her as I began standing, ready to walk away. But she grabbed my arm and said a quick, "Wait! Don't go!"

Sitting back down, I told her, "Tell me whatever you need to tell me, and I'll listen."

God, she looked like she was on the verge of crying. "Why don't we go back on the patio and talk," I said.

Instead, she downed the last of her beer, and helped me to finish off mine as well, and said, "Let's go." And she grabbed my hand and began pulling me in the direction of the front door.

When we got outside in the frigid air, she suddenly smashed herself up against me and wrapped her arms around me and told me, "Just hold me."

Well, I thought. Didn't see this coming. I knew we were getting stares from many of the people gathering outside. "Let me just take you home," I said, unsure of whether I should leave her alone or not. "You're not feeling suicidal now are you?"

"No. Just lonely. God, I'm feeling so lonely."

I tightened my arms around her small frame, and started crying at the same time that I felt her tears hitting my shirt.

What am I getting myself into? I asked myself. Trouble? Or the answer to a prayer I hadn't yet spoken?

--------------

"This is my building here," she said, eyes dry and on the calmer side now. "Oh! And there's a parking space! Quick!" she said enthusiastically as a car magically pulled out of a space in front of us.

She turned to me and was now more like a little girl than a woman. "Please come in?"

It was a nice building in the Westwood area. Kind of too nice for a young twenty something. "Are your parents paying for this?" I made the mistake of asking her.

"Both of my parents are dead," she said without much grief behind that explanation, as we crossed the front walk leading to the entrance.

When we got to her apartment door, she unlocked it and moved inside, without waiting for me to follow. I did, kind of reluctantly. "Are you sure you want me to come in? After all, you only just met me an hour ago. Even less." And I almost said, 'And I'm so much older than you,' but I didn't. I figured she already knew that.

Returning to the door, she closed it behind me. "I wouldn't have asked you in if I didn't trust you," she said, walking over to pet her calico cat on the sofa. "I don't know you, but I feel that you're a good person. That you're just as lonely as I am."

"That's true," I said in a whisper.

Turning around from her cat, "Stroking my cat can only do so much for me. I need human contact." And she got up suddenly, and crossed to fall into my arms again, and then just as quickly moved away.

"But I'm sure that you could have any guy you might want, if you just let them."

"Like I said. I'm sick of boys. I want a man to hold me and comfort me. And not try and stick his prick in me at the first opportunity." She wrapped her arm into mine and asked, "Can you just lay down with me and hold me?"

"Of course," I said and sighed. "That would be nice," and I followed in her wake to what I now realized was her bed. I looked around me and realized this wasn't a living room... This was an efficiency. This was the whole apartment. I didn't feel so bad about my own little efficiency now.

Laying down on the bed with her, it felt so warm and lovely to have this being next to me, holding me just as tightly. "So about friends, work and family," I asked.

"My parents died in a car crash when I was sixteen. I moved in with my mothers sister and her husband after that. Then my uncle started coming into my at night." I could both feel her grip tightening and also what was coming, which she didn't elaborate on. "When I was seventeen, I moved out. I still don't talk to them.

"Yes, I have a job, which I like very much. But everyone is... Well I went to the office party earlier, just to pay my respects, but I didn't stay. Too many couples. Even the Gay ones.

"Friends I lost over the years, most of them were at college and then when we graduated they went back home. I've kept my work separate from my private life since then."

"Why?"

"Too much hurt. And everyone around me at work is a lot older than I am,"

"Which is?"

Looking up into my eyes, she said, "Twenty-three. Yeah, I know I look much younger."

"Your looks, yes. Your attitude and demeanor? No. You're like twenty-three going on thirty-five."

"My parents had me when they were much older. And they treated me like an adult, even when I was a child. They raised me like I was a contemporary, and not their child," she said as she sighed again.

"So you never really had a childhood?"

"Oh, I did. Just not the infantilism that most children were raised with."

"So you should have a good working relationship with your co-workers at your job. No?"

"No. Married. With Children. Most of them not my age. They call me precocious, even though I'm an adult. And since I don't -- can't -- stand most guys my age, I've never had a relationship, so there's that. I think that some of them think that I'm lesbian, and I just don't want to talk about my private life.

"See how chatty I can be if someone just listens?" she said, looking up into my eyes again with a strange expression. She can't be having feelings for me at this point, can she?

"I want you to make love to me," she said, tears now forming once again in her eyes.

"I don't have a condom. Not to mention that I'm your grandfathers age."

"You're not that old. What? Are you fifty?"

"I'm almost sixty, I told her very quietly.

"That's ok. I'm not really twenty-three. That's part of the problem. I feel like I'm going on forty at this point, but..." She rested her head back down on my chest. "And you don't need to worry about pregnancy. I had my tubes tied at seventeen. I didn't want to carry some rapists -- or a relatives -- child."

"How--" I started to ask. "I mean without a parents permission?"

"I legally filed for emancipation. And when I told the judge about my uncle, she agreed. 'Do you want to press charges?' she asked me, and I told her no. It was my word against his and my aunt's."

"I'm so sorry." Incest. Wow. "But you've obviously grown beyond that."

"Yes, but for a long time I didn't trust a lot of people. In many ways, I still don't."

"That's understandable."

"So about that making love thing..."

"Even after your uncle?"

"I'm choosing this. I'm choosing you. I want to feel treated like an adult, and not just a piece of conquest."

"Ok," I said lying down. As she lay next to me, I reached out and took her into my arms. "Let's just do this for a while."

Snuggling into me, she whispered, "This is lovely."

Trying to explain my reluctance, "I don't want to feel like a predator. And I'm also afraid that if I get too vigorous, I'll hurt you."

Smiling an impish and smirking smile at this, "Oh, I think you'd be surprised. I'm kind of tough and wiry." And then the smile faded, "As long as you are gentle with me till I'm used to you. It's been a while."

I stroked her hair and kissed her on top of her head. "I'll be as gentle as you need me to be. When we get to that.

"I know you will. That's why I chose you. You asked and listened. There aren't many men out there who actually want to listen."

After a while, the kisses on her head and face progressed to kisses on her lips. First licking and and then sliding quickly into devouring each other.

And then getting her to sit up and allowing me to take off her shirt, I raised it up as slowly and with as much touch to every part of her body as I did. Her a-cup breasts were revealed, with perky nipples turning into mountains there.

Laying her down again, I began kissing her there, kissing as much of her deliciously pure skin, here there and everywhere. Nibbling around the outside of each breast, and I began easing into lightly licking and nibbling her two little high points on her chest. Her increasing groans and the bucking up of her hips as I did told me all I needed to know.

Continuing down further, I kissed to her belly, taking my time to gently unbutton her jeans and slide them down and off as I continued my kissing there. I slowly began moving her panties down, inch by inch, uncovering the wild and untamed forest that I found there. This was proof if I needed it, that this was indeed a woman and not a girl.

She still seemed like she was a child to me though. But I soon found out that she was anything but. I moved down to her inner thighs and began kissing them up slowly and deliberately, finding almost baby soft skin leading up to the hairy bush that had been barely constrained by her girlish panties.

"Please take me!" she cried. Grabbing roughly at her pantie waist, she quickly yanked them down her legs and off and opened herself to me fully and completely. Kissing the last few inches up into her raging forest, my lips and tongue found gentle but roughened outer and then inner lips. She looked like she had been very roughly handled in the past. No doubt by her incestuous uncle.

Almost as if she read my mind, "My uncle wasn't exactly gentle when he took me. At least he didn't tear me up, although I guess that would have proved what he was doing to me."

I laid my head down on her downy bush and began to cry. That someone would try to defile someone so child-like and innocent seeming burned me up. Was I doing the same thing though? I mean, I was probably older than her uncle. Was I taking advantage of her? She had told me no, but...

She reached down with both hands and drew me up to where she could kiss me, kissing me on my tear streaked cheeks. "It's all right," she said tenderly, as if she were the adult, and I was the child. "That's in the past, love. Show my body what it means to be really loved."

Bringing my head up level with her eyes, she had a look that almost sent me over again, a look so sweet and innocent and yet also with a determined and very adult intensity.

Grabbing me in both hands on either side of my head and looking so deeply into my eyes, she whispered, "Make love to me, Michael. Make all the bad memories go away." And then when I didn't go to move, "Please?" she pleaded.

Oh, God. I'm falling hard for this 'child.' Who was really seeming more like one of the oldest women I'd probably ever slept with.

"Take off your clothes and take me to heaven," she said, kissing me on the nose and then on the mouth. Soft, slow and sensually on my mouth. How could I not do anything she ever asked me to do?

I reluctantly walked away, and took off my pants and underwear and socks, and then my shirt. Stretching out beside her, my very ready for action cock poking her in her stomach, she laid down on her back and reached down and guided my cock into that forest, gently massaging her inner lips and clit with it. Then she guided it straight into her inner sanctum.

I began massaging into and out of her very wet canal, as slowly and softly as I could. She was tighter than any other woman I'd been with. Tighter than my girlfriend I had 'deflowered' back in high school. Seemingly impossibly tight. Yes, I was afraid that I might break this fragile being.

"Just keep going. Slowly," she whispered so wonderfully into my ear, her hands stroking my back and down to my ass, and then back up my back again.

God, this woman

, I thought. So innocent-seeming one minute. and then so experienced-seeming the next. She was raking her fingers up and down my back, sending electric charges up my spine. I was afraid that if I went too fast, I would explode in her before we had barely even started.

I began to pull out, and she caught my head in those two strong hands of hers, and said, "Shhhhh," whispering into my ear again. Then gently, I felt her running her tongue up my outer ear lobe throwing me into another fit of tremors. The electricity from her tongue was almost frying my brain it was so intense.

So I began thrusting back into her, her inch by inch. Backing out and then working my way back in. Why did I have to wait so long for a woman like this to come into my life? And then that thought had me tearing up again.

And again, "Shhhh. It's ok, honey. Just keep doing what you're doing." And she brought my head back around to those eyes, and began kissing me oh so sensually on my mouth as she gazed so deep into my eyes.

Who was the older person here, and who was the younger? I asked myself. I was feeling like a teenager again, not knowing what to do to this 'older woman,' her being the one guiding me in the ways of love and sex.

When I was finally as far in as I could go, she let out a very satisfied hiss. "Yes, babe. That's it. Like that." Those hands grabbed me back to holding me an inch from those eyes. "Now give me my first orgasm," she said, lust and anticipation pouring out of her gaze.

First? "You mean--"

"Shhhh. Just nice and slow. Yes?"

I shyly nodded and began thrusting in and out of her. As her inner muscles began relaxing and enlarging, I began to be a little more vigorous. "Yes! A little harder now," her hiss came into my ear as my eyes were closed. "You can be harder with me, just don't tear me up inside."

I pulled and pushed, back and forth In and out, and her juices began to flow, making it easier for me to come in and out of her tunnel of love. This brought moans rising out of her. Moans that seemed to come out of a woman twice her size, rising in volume and intensity until.

"Oh GOD," she screamed, fingers clutching and digging into my back. And I felt her body begin rippling from her approaching orgasm, so glad I was able to bring her to this.

I came shortly after her, exploding finally into her and driving her to yet another orgasm, truly consummating our relationship.

As we were both coming down and she was able to speak again, she had such a look of satisfaction with her mouth still hanging open in an o-ring of lust and satisfaction. "You like?" I asked rather cheekily.

"Oh, God! That was... indescribable. Thankyouthankyouhthankyou! I love you!"

Now it was time for

my

mouth to drop open. She loves me? After one session of lovemaking and she's in love with me? Can we be...

"Um," I began to say. But she put her finger to my lips to silence me, and then kissing me to get me to shut up.

"It's ok. And yes we haven't known each other long enough for me to be IN love with you. But I'm soooo grateful that you're in my life now. And you're the first

rea

l man that I've ever had. So..." And she gave me a real big smack kind of kiss on my lips. "And I don't care what

any

body has to say about our age difference. It's none of their business."