"David, I'm flattered," I said, meeting his eyes, "but we can't."
His hand stayed on my waist, well, where I once had a waist, and he held my eyes.
"I'm not a rapist, Jean," he said, "if you tell me to stop, I'll stop."
"David, we can't," I repeated.
He stepped even closer, his hands squeezing now, our lips almost touching.
"I didn't hear 'stop,'" he said and his lips brushed mine.
"David," I managed but then my breath caught when his lips found that softness just below my ear and I felt his tongue trace a warm, wet circle.
I managed to draw a breath and get my hands between us and push him away.
He was smiling that wonderful boyish smile I had liked when I accepted him as a boarder.
"David," I managed, taking another breath, "I'm flattered but I'm three times your age."
He smiled and held my eyes and I felt his hand tug on the belt of the robe I was wearing.
My breath caught again as I felt his fingers lift the top of the pajamas I had on under the robe and touch my bare skin.
He closed the distance again, his hands slowly moving around until they were low on my back, just touching the pajama bottoms.
He kissed me, this time not just a brush of the lips, but a real kiss.
And I kissed him back.
It had been a long time, well, five years now, since I had been kissed like that.
Well, okay, if I'm being honest here, I had NEVER been kissed like that before.
It was a good kiss.
It was a lingering kiss.
When his tongue probed my lips I met it with my own.
I didn't even realize when my arms went around his neck, I just noticed them there.
I DID notice the way his hand moved, slowly up my back, caressing more than squeezing, and then back down, past the elastic of the waistband to lightly cup my ass and then back up.
He broke the kiss and this time it was he who got his hands between us, mildly surprising me when he put them on my shoulders and not my breasts.
He grinned, that million-watt grin, and said, "Okay Jean, last chance, either say 'stop' or say 'yes.'"
"Yes," I said, "yes, yes, yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes."
I ran down.
I stood very still as his fingers found the top button of my pajamas.
His eyes held me as if I was a mouse and he the hungry snake.
A second button brought a little hitch to my breath.
The third button almost did me in when he caressed the insides of my breasts.
My whole body shuddered.
He smiled and said, in a very soft voice, "how long has it been Jean?"
I suppose I understood, on some level, what he meant, but instead, I just said, "huh?"
Demonstrating my brilliant conversational skills.
"How long since a man touched you," he said, matching word to deed and gently brushing the backs of his fingers across my breast again.
