Tasha Fontaine watched Henry walk up the driveway to his home. He wore a black duster to keep out the chill Autumn air. Most everything he wore was black. Or blue. Or forest shades. He looked at home both in the city and in the deep forest on the mountains. He was not a stereotype. He spoke politely, with manners and a grace far exceeding his youth. He even held his tone body in a confident, but not arrogant, fashion. Brownish black eyes gazed thoughtfully from small oval glasses. His chest and arms were well proportioned. So were his legs, which only hinted at the power beneath his skin. Not for the first time, Tasha sighed. However, this time Henry stopped.
It was so sudden she was certain she'd missed it. She knew she wanted him sexually. Just sexually. But there was also an irritating mothering instinct. She had children. She did not want more. Yet Henry seemed to call out for mothering. Those warm, tender, matchless hugs just because. The faint peck on the top of his head. Just because. Now, he stood motionless. Not the frightened stillness of a deer. He seemed to be looking at something... or into somewhere. Tasha's pulse quickened as she worried about his actions. When he didn't move, she backed away from the window, intent on seeing just what was bothering him.
* * * *
Someone was watching him. The hairs on his neck twitched. His mind Balanced. He knew the signs well. True predators have survived being prey. Someone was watching him for reasons unknown. He turned his head slightly and slowly. In the reflection of his glasses... movement. Miss Fontaine. He smiled, the sensation instantly changing from prey to predator.
He knew the outcome. Another broken heart. Someone who found him attractive in one dimension only. It was the Curse. Still, he smiled. She was very attractive... for a woman pushing sixty. Only his overly paranoid senses kept him from assuming she was nearing forty. She looked that young. If her breasts didn't sag as much as they did, thirty was a real possibility. She was plump, but it was obvious the "extra" weight was not slapped on haphazardly. Easily a double D cup. Her waist gave way to full hips and a round, ample butt. They did not just appear from nowhere... or thunder into view along with roll after roll of ugly cellulite. And her legs were tone, not just plump. He liked her... physically. He didn't know her... only of her. She was watching him, and he'd sensed it. Which meant he was going to break another heart today.
* * * *
Tasha opened her door and stood there, blatantly watching the young black man as he stood there. During her travels he'd moved his head, but remained otherwise motionless. Then, with a controlled slowness, he turned around. First his profile, then his entire face, slid into her view. It was nearly too much. Long dormant fantasies ripped through her mind and soul. She felt her nipples harden beneath her stylish black turtleneck sweater. Her legs trembled, aching to be wrapped around his strong, youthful body.
He stared at her. Then into her very soul. His eyes held no malice. He was... curious. Did he know? Could he tell? He was such a caring young man. What she felt was lust. Not love. The torment showed plainly on her face.
"Hello, Miss Fontaine. How are you doing?"
"Fine. And you, Henry?"
"Worried about a test I had today. Probably should study more than I do," he laughed. It was a lie and she knew it, but he let her know he knew... and understood. Maybe not the full truth, but he had a clue. Henry waved, then continued on to his home.
Tasha went inside... and cried.
* * * *
There could be no mistake. Miss Tasha Fontaine had the hots for him. The look on her face told him everything. She wanted him sexually. Only sexually. And it tore her apart. Henry could only guess at the reasons. Race and age jumped to mind immediately, but neither felt right.
He felt sorry for her. She was probably just as horny as any other woman. Being alone left only dating or masturbation as sexual outlets. If she was used to getting lots of sex, or just a few really good times, then she may just want more. The logic was simple and held together. It also didn't ring quite true.
Grumbling, Henry decided to pay Tasha Fontaine a visit. Out of habit, he tossed two condoms into a small hidden pocket in his duster. Throwing on the heavy clothing, his eyes glanced over his computer. He smiled; at least he had a viable excuse to visit her.
* * * *
The knock on the door startled Tasha. As her mind sifted through the small list of possible visitors she headed to the front door. Opening it, she felt her mind screech to a dead stop. Henry stood before her, that same innocent look on his face... and something quite attractive dancing behind his eyes.
"Hi, Miss Fontaine. My mom said you'd gotten a new computer and wanted someone to teach you how to use it. I can, if you'd like."
"Oh. Sure!! Come on in, Henry. And... Thank you."
She couldn't believe her luck. Henry was actually inside her home!! Her mind swirled with plans and moves. She was going to seduce him; that much was certain. She couldn't help herself. Part of her cried softly at the thought of using him for something so... cheap... as sex.
She showed him to the computer, which was luckily placed in her bedroom. It sat in a corner, allowing her to see out of her window and onto the street below. He sat down in the chair she offered and powered up the machine.
He was patient. She knew next to nothing about the blasted thing. She just wanted to use the internet. Email her sister in Maine. Simple things. It frightened her in some ways. Henry helped her quickly overcome her fears, simultaneously strengthening her resolve to seduce him. While also making it extremely hard to want to hurt him. After two hours, Tasha finally excused herself. Once inside the bathroom, she began to sob.
"Hey... what's wrong, Miss Fontaine?" Even through the thick oak door his voice was gentle. Compassionate.
She tried to speak, to apologize. The door crept open slowly. He was magnificent to look at, even swathed in black. His posture was open and inviting. Tasha longed to loose herself in the phantasmal black cloth he chose to wear every day. To be held by his arms. To have him fill her again and again. His lips on hers. His hands roaming over her flesh. But not if it hurt him. That was not a price she was willing to pay.
* * * *
The coldness of the Beast died. Tasha was torn by her own demons. And he had somehow reminded her of them. Henry closed his eyes. She hurt because of him. He knew what he had to do. He knew where his choice would take him. Another heart. He had only to be dishonorable and things would work out. In short... another heart would break.
He walked over to her slowly. Sadly. He did not want to hurt her, but she had to be held. He did care. Something was bothering her. She didn't bother anyone. Everyone on the street loved her. She was godmother to quite a few of the children. She was also alone, and Henry knew what demons Loneliness could bring.
He knew and expected the fear to reach her eyes as he extended his arms around her. He did not expect the Beast to growl... in triumph. Then Tasha ran her hands up his back... in a decidedly erotic manner. Henry smiled; she was trying to seduce him. He looked into her eyes... and saw the torment more clearly.
