Ted pulled out of the space at the park. It was fall, but still warm out, and his car air conditioner blew cool air in his face and on his arms, and made him shiver from the evaporation of the sweat that had covered his skin. He was reveling inside at what he had just done.
"I made a girl cum on the phone," he thought. "Not just a girl," he added, "Emily. I made Emily cum. Shit. I made a teenage girl cum just by talking to her."
Ted felt powerful. Primal, male ego surged inside him. As he drove, he thought back over his sexual experiences...
The first time he unhooked a bra, and saw and touched a girl's breasts. The first time he probed between a girl's legs and felt her wetness. The first time he unloaded his seed into a woman. All of these experiences were with the woman that was now his wife, and none of these memories came anywhere close to how he felt right now, in regards to just how "male" he felt.
It was empowering to him. This, coupled with the fast-growing emotional bond he already had, made Ted wonder if this was really love or just the rush of infatuation one gets when experiencing sexual feelings the first time.
His rational mind knew that it was easy for a young person to equate sex with love, and as Ted's personal experiences were limited, he knew that emotionally, he was as inexperienced at real love as any teenage boy.
He made a quick stop at the church to get some of his papers, thinking he might need to "prove" he actually went there. It was when he got out of his car, and the fabric of his pants shifted, that he felt the consequences of his actions from a few minutes before. He could feel the cold fluid in his boxers and nervously examined his pants for wet spots, and saw a small dark circle on one side, about the size of a dime.
"Shit."
Despite the fantastic physical sensation of the orgasm, Ted hadn't really produced very much semen, as it was his second orgasm in just a few hours, and Ted was indeed a middle-aged male. For this he was happy, because he realized if he had been younger, or if this had been his first session that day, the stain could have been much worse.
Still, he knew it was there, and knowing made it seem like it was a foot across.
He quickly walked to the building containing his office, grateful that no staff were in that area, and made his way to the second-floor room. Locking the door, he unzipped his pants and wiped away as much of the sticky, cold fluid as he could with tissues from the box at his desk, then tossed them into a wastebasket and readjusted his pants. Gathering several books, he started to leave, then a paranoid part of his brain wondered how soon the church custodian would come to empty his trash.
He grabbed up a few more tissues, tightly wrapping the wet ones inside, and pocketed the ball of paper.
He left the building and drove home, taking a longer route. On one turn, while looking nervously in his mirror to see if there was anyone who would notice, he tossed the ball of tissue out the window.
At home, he strategically held the books in front of himself to cover the spot, which was now more the size of a golf ball.
His wife didn't even notice he had returned, as she was on the couch, all her focus on a televised football game. "I'm back," he called quickly as he rushed to the bedroom.
Locking the door, he changed into another pair of similar jeans and boxers, and stuffed the stained ones into the bottom of the clothes hamper. Ted wasn't too worried at being found out because he usually washed most of his own clothes. It wasn't that his wife didn't do laundry; but she didn't do it often. Ted found it easier to take care of his own clothes than to remind his wife that he needed clean ones.
Back in his study, Ted pretended to look at one of his books, and his computer had an open program displaying one of his lessons. In his mind, Ted saw only one thing: Emily's face. He was no longer doubting or unsure of his path; he was fully committed to the plans he had so rapidly formed in the last few hours. He intended to enjoy this flirtation as much as he could, because it satisfied every desire he had ever felt, and it was real; not a picture in a folder on his computer.
He navigated to the folder and deleted the entire contents without hesitation.
"I don't need this now," he thought. "I have something a thousand, no, a million times better!"
What this something was had not yet fully coalesced in his mind, but he knew there was a girl, a very pretty, young, sexy girl, that was infatuated with him. She had no problems flirting with him knowing full well he was married and old enough to be her dad. He had already had a couple of sexually-charged interactions with her that both of them enjoyed.
He ran through as many options in his head as he could that would create excuses and opportunities for him to be around Emily. He would definitely try to get her to join the praise band or the youth choir. Emily's parent's were on-again, off-again attendees at SCBC, so maybe he could give her a ride once in a while?
Ted's phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Emily.
