In Praise Of Younger Men

Disclaimer -- This story does not intend ANY disrespect to any particular Indigenous persons or any particular First Nations Group. Certain portions of the story, as well as certain conversations within the story are based on personal experience, or on the experience of family members and friends who are also Native persons.

It had started as one of 'those' days when I felt lost and angry and didn't quite know what to do with myself. I made sure the cat had food, got in the car and started driving. Now, here I was, wedged into the corner of a bar booth in Socorro appropriately enough since the name meant help. I was nursing a second glass of wine, feeling mildly tipsy, and letting silent tears flow. Without saying a word the waitress had brought a large stack of napkins. I'd already used quite a few mopping my face and blowing my nose. Let me add, I am NOT a pretty crier. My nose runs and turns red, my face gets blotchy and my eyes get red and swell shut. Hence the reason I was trying hard to stay silent and hide in the corner.

At this time of day there wasn't much going on. There were some young men playing pool off to one side and an older man -- even older than me -- quietly drinking beer and watching the bar TV. I was feeling sorry for myself and I knew it and that made me even madder than being cheated on and left for 'greener pastures' had done. I also knew that I was going to have to stop drinking and find something to eat SOON or I'd be spending the night in my car in the parking lot. But I still sat there, staring into my wine glass, going nowhere fast. An apt metaphor for my life, I thought disparagingly. The soft voice startled me so much that I jumped and nearly spilled my wine.

"Are you okay"

I turned to face him and was stunned into open mouthed appreciation. He was tall, easily topping six foot, and reed slender. Native American, I thought, wondering if that was currently P.C., he was wearing worn, snug, Wrangler jeans and an equally worn blue denim work shirt with the sleeves rolled to his biceps. His hair hung to mid back and chest and he had well defined, almost hawk-like features.

"Are you okay?" He repeated, leaning toward me slightly.

Waving the question away I grumbled, "I've always hated men whose hair was so much better than mine!"

He nodded, sliding into the booth, next to me, but not crowding me. I noticed he was holding a bottle of Tecate beer. He nodded again without smiling.

"True, but your hair will look a lot better hanging from my lodge pole."

He'd timed it well, I was mid swallow when I choked, sputtering wine with laughter and he helpfully pounded me on the back, handing me napkins until I could breathe again.

"So, do you want to talk about it?"

"It's a really long, sad and boring story....you really don't want to know..."

"Wouldn't have asked." He said with a slight smile, turning toward me in the booth. "I'm Curtis by the way. You are?"

"Maggie," I said, reaching to shake his hand. His skin was warm. His hands were slender with lightly calloused fingers (like an artist I thought). But it was the almost electrical charge that I felt when we touched that was startling. I nearly pulled away but Curtis had firm hold of my hand, shook it, then set our joined hands on the table and continued to maintain contact while looking at me expectantly.

"Oh god! It's one of those stupid stories. They meet and fall in love...or at least in lust I suppose, in retrospect."

The tears started again and Curtis used his free hand to pass me some more napkins and to motion to the waitress for two more drinks. I shook my head in denial.

"Oh no, Curtis. Really. I shouldn't. I have to drive..." I protested.

"I'll make sure you get home safe."

He patted our joined hands with his free hand, never letting go of the hand he held. I didn't want to trust that statement, he was a stranger after all, but looking into his warm brown eyes, all I could see was gentle kindness.

He prompted, "You were in love? And...?"

"Oh hell, it was wonderful...I thought. He was married but got divorced. I moved out here to be with him. We had a long time...ten years. Until I realized he'd been cheating. I don't know how long, probably the whole time. He travelled a lot with his work."

I was trying to blow my nose, one handed and Curtis finally let go of my hand long enough to hold a napkin to my nose saying 'blow', before taking my hand again. Once again the contact was so highly charged and electric I expected to see sparks.

"Anyway, he found someone else he'd rather be with..." I waved helplessly.

He said something under his breath in a language I didn't recognize.

"Wh-what?"

"Only crazy white men walk away from medicine women."

I looked at him in confusion, "I don't understand what you mean. I'm certainly not..."

He snorted a laugh, "Maybe you don't know it but the power comes off you like lightning in a summer storm. More even than with my Mother and Aunties and Grandmother and they are all powerful medicine women."

"I don't even really know what a medicine woman is? Is that anything like a shaman? Or a priestess?"

"Well, it's not really like anything in white Christian culture. Medicine women teach and heal, they're deeply connected to earth and spirit..." I was shaking my head in denial. "It's not really something I can speak well about as a man. I can recognize the power in you but you should really talk with Mom and the Aunties and Gran. They can help you. Like, what is it you do?"

We began to talk in more general terms about our lives and I began to calm down and settle emotionally. I told him of my years of working in medicine but how since I'd moved I'd been working with a local farmer's market. Not only trying to help some of the local small farmers to have a place to sell their produce, but to help area residents be able to find resources for their needs, from goat cheese and butter to specialty mushrooms and herbs. We talked about the fact that I wanted more of the area reservations to participate and rent space for sales of artwork, or cultural items or even just as a space to tell stories and entertain children while their parents shopped.

Time did pass as we talked and technically I was 'more sober' but I still felt too tipsy to drive, especially since it was dark outside now. I grabbed my purse though and excused myself to go to the ladies room. I figured I could walk somewhere nearby to get a burger or something, and then come back to sleep in the car. An early morning wake up for coffee and a pit stop and I would head back home. It wasn't really that long a drive, about 45 minutes. But it was a lot of empty highway for a tired woman who'd had too much to drink that day.

When I came out of the bathroom Curtis was leaning against the wall. He put his hand out.

"Keys!" He said flatly. It wasn't a question.

I laughed uncertainly, "Oh, no need, I'm just going to go grab a burger or something before I head home."

"Okay. Sounds good. Keys!" He held out his hand again.

I looked at him and there was a glint of humor dancing in his eyes. I rolled my eyes, shrugged and handed him the keys.

"Fine! But if you're an axe murderer."

"Don't need an axe. Got a bow and arrows." He said looking at me sideways as he ushered me through the door and out to my car.

I honestly don't remember where we ate, only that the burgers were huge and stuffed with bacon, cheese and chiles, dripping with grease and were possibly the best burgers I've ever eaten. Fries were crisp, hot, golden and salted to perfection. And we laughed. A lot. He made a lot of silly jokes about being an Indian and had started calling me Kemosabe. I told him my actual Indian name should be Woman with Skin the Color of Frog Bellies and then had to pound on his back when he choked on his burger.

The whole day, and evening were like a dream that didn't make any sense. He was young. God, he was so young! Half my age or less. And he was SOOO gorgeous. I had no idea why he had stopped to take care of me. I was 52 and, even putting it politely and mildly, I was plump. I was mulling over the things he had said about me being some kind of medicine woman. That totally didn't make sense. As soon as I was alone again, I intended to Google it and do some research of my own. Finally, I didn't know what in hell that apparently electrical connection we seemed to have was but every time one of us got close to the other it was like a charge of static electricity -- without the fat blue sparks.

Driving home through the desert we were quiet. I had Garth Brooks in the CD player and he seemed content to listen. At one point I asked him to stop and pull off the road. He did so quickly, asking, "You gonna be sick?"

"No, I just need to look..."

Climbing out of the car I went to lean on the hood and stare up at the sky. He seemed to understand and turned off all but our emergency lights, coming out to join me. For those who have never seen it, The Milky Way is an extraordinary sight. And in the New Mexico desert, at night, it is...well...I didn't have words to describe it, but it made me feel whole in a strange way. It also gave me gooseflesh, hard nipples and a dampness problem. I wanted to grab Curtis and find out if the bulge in the front of his Wranglers was lying to me. He was leaning back on the hood, resting on his elbows, and looking up, but as I cautiously glanced to the side, it seemed to me that his bulge had become more prominent. A trick of light and shadow I thought.

"You good?" He asked softly.

I turned to find he was looking at me, not the stars. What the hell? I nodded an affirmative and turned back toward the passenger side door.

"I hafta take a leak," He announced. "You?"

"No, I'm good."

Damn what was I thinking? If I'd said yes would we have gone together? Would he have watched me? Could I have watched him and judged his cock for myself? Was it a subtle invitation or was I a raving lunatic? Regardless, it was too late now, he was moving a little further off road and I could tell he was taking care of his business. The car was feeling uncomfortably warm and stuffy and I seemed to have sat on a puddle filled with ants, but before I could shove a hand down my pants to 'check', Curtis was back in the car and we were back on the highway.

It occurred to me that once he drove me home, he would either be sleeping in my car, borrowing it to drive himself home until morning, or sleeping over. I had one bedroom and one bed, not counting the cat's. My living room contained two overstuffed chairs and a love seat, all of which would be woefully inadequate to harbor his lanky frame overnight. I had, on occasion, fallen asleep on the love seat or in one of the chairs and then awakened later stiff and muscle cramped, but it would be easier for me than for him. He could sleep in the bed.

I had it all settled in my mind when we pulled into the driveway. As I unlocked the door and Curtis followed me in, the cat took one look, recognized him as male and a stranger and vanished.

"Nice trick." He chuckled. "Does she do it with mirrors?"

I laughed, putting down my purse and bending to light the gas fire in the living room. It wasn't cold enough to turn on the heat yet but there was a chill in the air tonight and the fire would feel good.

"Let me give you the nickel tour," pointing through the archway into the darkness beyond, "Kitchen. Bedroom is through there and bathroom is in there. Let me make sure there are clean towels but you'll stay here tonight."

He waved a hand in negation, "If I can use your phone I can call someone to come get me. I'll wait outside so you can go to bed..."

"Oh bullshit!" I interrupted. "You were kind enough to listen to me, talk with me, drive me home... You're. Staying. The. Night."

I crossed my arms and raised one eyebrow -- what my ex called my 'mother look'. Curtis didn't look impressed. He arched an eyebrow and returned the look. Then he shrugged and grinned. (He had a really nice smile but it made him look about 16 so I was just as happy he didn't do it very often.)

"I'll sleep on the..." he paused looking at the loveseat, "floor," he finished.

"Nonsense. You're my guest, you'll sleep in the bed and be comfortable and..."

"Fine." He said flatly. "And since it's YOUR bed and it's plenty big, that's where you'll sleep too." It wasn't a question. It wasn't even a statement. If he had been a king it would have been a royal command. To be honest it was kind of nice to have someone (besides me) make a decision. I did try to stammer a protest and he held up a hand.

"I did say sleep, right?"

I blushed and nodded. Feeling stupid for having even thought that someone like him -- young and gorgeous -- could ever be interested in fat old me. I bent down, pretending to tend the fire but in reality to hide the sudden tears that filled my eyes and threatened to spill. I was busily cursing myself mentally for being such a fool -- had Ryan's leaving taught me nothing -- I was unwanted, undesirable, unlovable and... He could, it seemed, move as silently as the cat when he wanted. He pulled me upright, wrapping strong arms around me from behind and murmuring in my ear.

"Not that fucking you isn't a really pleasurable thought, but I've had a long day and I need some sleep...first."

A shiver went down my spine and I was torn between total disbelief and the barest glimmer of...hope certainly, and arousal. My nipples and snatch didn't listen to the part of my brain whispering caution and disbelief and immediately sprang to attention and overdrive, even while I shook my head in disbelief and negation. Pulling away I told him I was going to start the fire in the bedroom and check the towels. He tried to hold me but I pulled away, rushing into the darkness of the bedroom to hide my confusion. Fortunately I was a tidy person and knew where everything was, even in the dark. In the firelight I could see Shadow peeking out from under the bedspread watching me, her ears cocked to catch the sound of Curtis moving in the other room.

The bathroom was large with access from the bedroom and the living room. I opened the bedroom door to let the heat in and made sure there were fresh towels. There was an old terrycloth robe that Ryan had left behind and I set that out, finally turning on the small bedside lamp and turning down the covers. His soft voice behind me spoke my name, alerting me to his presence before he put his arms around me and the lightning surged through me again. I could tell he felt it too when his muscles tightened. His warm breath sent a shiver down my spine when he spoke.

"Maggie, it will be okay. I promise. It will all be okay. Just go get ready for bed."

I nodded, laying my head against his for a moment before heading to the bathroom. I debated leaving my clothes on but decided that was stupid. I was tired and wanted to sleep so I might as well be comfortable I grabbed the soft flannel gown I wore in the winter. Coming back to the bedroom I was doubly startled -- first by Curtis stripped down to boxer briefs, and then by the fact that Shadow was settled in the middle of the bed, belly up, accepting the homage due her as queen of the castle. She raised her head and meowed at me before settling back to allow Curtis to pet and scratch her.

"What the hell? Did you hypnotize her or drug her? She hates men!" I stated.

Again the light of laughter was apparent in his eyes, despite the lack of a smile, "White men maybe..."

As if on cue Shadow lifted a front paw in her one trick, gracing Curtis with a high five and I sank onto the bed laughing helplessly. It felt good to laugh so much when earlier in the day I'd been convinced that I was going to cry forever. Shadow took it amiss though, as cats often do when they feel you are laughing at them. She stretched and stalked off the foot of the big brass bed to sit and stare into the fireplace flames and bask in the heat. Curtis turned off the lamp and I climbed under the covers, turning to face the wall and avoid looking at him. I still didn't know if he was serious, although he didn't seem the type to tease a woman sexually. He climbed into bed behind me, pulling the covers over us both and I realized he'd taken his briefs off. I could feel his cock when he rolled toward me, snuggling against me and it nestled against my ass. He wrapped an arm around me, dropped his head against the pillow and sighed deeply once before going immediately to sleep. I had a moment to think about how comforting it was to feel a warm male body against mine...how safe...before I too fell asleep in mid thought.

When I woke in the morning the bed beside me was empty but smelled pleasantly of the musk of a healthy young male. Shadow blinked at me lazily from on top of the pillow opposite me. 'Traitor' I whispered but she turned her back on me and settled back to nap some more. The shower was running and I smelled coffee, bacon, and other things I couldn't identify. I heard the water stop and the sound of the shower curtain sliding back. My imagination went into overdrive thinking about his lean brown body and the cock I'd felt against my back before falling asleep.

He came into the bedroom wearing the robe hanging loosely from his shoulders. He'd clubbed his hair back into a long, low tail and he was squeezing the excess water from it with a towel. I tried very hard not to ogle...or drool...when the robe allowed glimpses of the fine body underneath it.

"Oh good, you're awake! Hey, I used your phone. My brother delivered my ride a little while ago and I made breakfast." He seemed more cheerful this morning although still not smiling.

"I can smell the food. It smells terrific, thank you." My stomach growled loudly in emphasis and the corner of his mouth quirked up briefly. "You didn't have to do that though, I..."

"You gave me company last night and a warm, dry place to sleep. I had to!" He said flatly. "Besides," he actually grinned showing straight white teeth, "the bed hog there told me it was HER turn to use the pillow so I wasn't allowed to sleep any later."

I laughed and tossed back the covers, realizing too late that my gown had ridden up nearly to my waist, allowing him a full look at what had been hidden last night I saw his eyes dart, taking in my hairless pussy in a glance before impassively continuing to dry his hair. I hurried to pull the gown into place as I scooted out of bed but knew that my skin had flushed hot and rosy everywhere the gown didn't cover. If he could ignore it, along with his own nudity, so could I, I thought heading in to brush my teeth and my own curly mop of graying hair.

The eyes that looked back at me in the mirror that morning didn't look inherently old, I thought. Some laugh lines at the corners but they were still clear and bright. And the silvering threads of hair blended into the mouse blonde of my natural hair color like highlights would. I snorted knowing I was just trying to delude myself into thinking Curtis might be attracted to me on any level.

In the kitchen I found everything clean and as neat as I'd left it the day before but a plate with bacon, scrambled eggs and freshly made fry bread was keeping warm in the oven. The coffee pot was still half full and I filled my mug first, adding my sweet creamer before taking a healthy sip and sighing in delight. Just waking to find coffee already made was such a nice change. It didn't, I scolded myself, mean anything other than he was paying me back. The food was good. The eggs had been scrambled with diced chiles and cheese and the fry bread was amazing.

He padded into the kitchen, barefoot and shirtless. He was wearing his jeans, zipped but unbuttoned and hanging low on his hips. From the amount of brown skin showing he wasn't wearing briefs today. He poured himself a cup of coffee and held up the pot in my direction, filling my mug when I nodded. Finally replete I leaned back in the chair sipping the hot brew. He moved behind me, warm hands on my shoulders. I tensed and he leaned against me.