Don't I wish this were true. Nevertheless, it was fun to write. She's well over 18. So am I.
*****
The B&B farther down the coast had been sold to two women from Texas, who were moving a long way to the coast of Massachusetts to take up running what was practically an institution in the area. A top-flight inn, with a stellar restaurant. I took them some fudge to welcome them and invited them to my house on the water for a good dinner. My hobby was cooking. We set a date, and I started planning the menu.
Early the afternoon of their coming, Sally called. "Is it OK if Diane comes? I'm sorry for the last-minute addition, but she'd really like to join us."
Diane! Diane was the young woman, mid-twenties, who had worked at the inn for several years. She would come from her home in Missouri in May, just before the inn opened, stay the summer, doing housekeeping and serving in the restaurant. When the inn closed just after New Year's, she would return to Missouri for the winter.
Every male on the coast wanted to fuck Diane. 5'9", slim with larger-than-average breasts, long legs, frizzy black hair that she kept a little longer than shoulder length, huge brown eyes with long, natural lashes. Diane ran about three miles a day, containing her chest in a tight sports bra. Even working so much at the inn, she managed to collect a good tan, starting with an olive complexion. Sex appeal oozed from every pore. She was beautiful. Each summer she chose some lucky nearby male and had a summer fling.
"Sure! She's most welcome. Thanks for letting me know." We hung up, pulled another piece of salmon fillet out of the freezer, and started doing preliminary prep work.
The ladies arrived about 5. Sally and Jean came in their pickup truck. Diane came separately in her red pickup with the Missouri plates. I welcomed them and gave them the nickel tour of my little house. They were impressed. We retreated to the deck and chatted over Chardonnay and cheese.
The ladies wore conservative pantsuits - tasteful and elegant. Diane wore a pale blue summer dress, scoop-necked, sleeveless, with a tight waist, flared at the bottom and ending mid-thigh. Comfortable heels. She looked fabulous. She had a band that pulled her hair back behind her ears. Light makeup. Long lashes, bright smile.
My suspicions that the two owners were lesbians were confirmed. Not that it mattered to me. I hadn't invited them to seduce them singly or in tandem. They had both held corporate jobs in Dallas, had gotten fed up with that life and Dallas' temperatures, and decided to chuck it all and buy the inn. We had a nice chat. They were learning that the inn was harder than they thought. Fortunately, they said, they had Diane and a couple other veteran staffers who understood innkeeping and the idiosyncrasies of that particular place.
Diane was quiet, chiming in only occasionally, and mostly to self-deprecate when they sang her praises.
I excused myself to go make dinner, and as with most parties, they moved with me. My little kitchen is open to the dining area, and so the ladies made themselves comfortable at the table while I went to work. An authentic Caesar salad, pan-seared salmon and sautéed mushrooms on a bed of wilted spinach and mashed cauliflower, with a Thai coconut-red curry sauce doctored with a splash of cognac. House specialties all. They were impressed that I warmed the plates.
Dinner was delightful, with more comfortable chatting, storytelling, and laughter. I cleared plates and served the chocolate mousse I had made for dessert. All declined tea or coffee.
After dessert, we all leaned back to take a break. "We'll do dishes for you!" Jean said.
"No way. You're guests. And as you can see, I engineer meals to minimize dirty dishes." I said.
"Well, you sure engineer meals to be fabulous! Can we hire you to cook at the inn?" Sarah asked.
"Noooo, no! No way!" I said. "Cooking as a hobby for nice people is fun. Having to cook for a restaurant full of people would take the joy out of it."
"Well, we tried." Sarah said, laughing to indicate that the offer had only been semi-serious. Good thing.
The two ladies bid farewell, since as always, they had things to do. I showed them to the door, we said our farewells, and they were off. I closed the door, turned around, and there was Diane, hands behind her back perhaps a little shyly, twisting a toe on my entryway rug. She was looking down at her feet, then raised her eyes to me and smiled. "I thought I'd stay behind and help you with the dishes anyway. With two of us it will only take a second." How could I resist?
My dishwashing regimen is pretty simple, and there was really only work for one of us. We stood together at the sink. Diane took a towel and started drying. Every time she picked up a plate her hip would gently touch mine. About the third time, I turned my head to look at her, and got a nice smile in return.
She was right. The dishes were washed, dried and put away in no time. I thanked her profusely for the help. My kitchen is right next to the door. Diane backed up against the door, put her hands behind her back again, and looked straight at me.
"Do I have to go now?"
"I guess not. But why would you want to stay?"
She beckoned me with a finger. She actually beckoned me with a finger. I moved closer. She took my shirt and pulled me to her. She put her other hand behind my head and pulled me in for a light, sweet kiss.
"Maybe we can spend some time together?" She said.
"Diane, I'm old enough to be your biological grandfather. It's not clear to me why you would be the least bit interested in me."
"Why? You're smart, funny, and pretty hot for an old guy!" We laughed and kissed again. This time not so lightly. Her lips were warm and wet. "Besides, the guys my age don't really know how to care for a woman. I'll bet you do." She pulled me in for another warm, wet kiss, and her tongue just peeked out from her lips, seeking mine. We lightly sparred with the tips of our tongues. I raised my hands to cup her cheekbones, rubbing them gently, and our tongues became a little more aggressive. She purred a little. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she pulled close, and I could feel her chest pressing against me. We kept kissing. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her even closer.
"Diane, may I unzip your dress?" I asked.
She nodded.
Resuming a kiss, I found the tab of her zipper in the back and slowly tugged it down. Fortunately, it didn't stick. Once down, my hands found inside to caress her soft skin. I could feel the sides of her chest and move down to where her hips flared. My hands came out and took the shoulder straps of the light blue material and moved them off her shoulders. She lowered her arms so that the dress would just fall off onto the floor.
"I can't let it stay on the floor," I said, stooping to pick it up. I folded it neatly and put it on the nearby counter. Turning back, I saw Diane in her lacy black bra and panties, bra lifting up cleavage from her breasts.
Taking her skin at the waist in my hands, I pulled her close and kissed her again. She responded by pressing against me. I kissed her jawline, and tongued behind her ear, lightly on the edge of her ear, and then in her ear. She shuddered.
"Look at that," she said, raising an arm. "Goosebumps!"
"Should I stop?"
She moved in close. "No! Please don't!"
I resumed my kisses on the side of her face, kissed the other side. All the while Diane pressed against me, while I pressed her against the door.
"Diane? Would you like to go into my bedroom?" I asked, looking into her eyes.
Her eyes shone. "Yes, I would like that very much."
I took her by the hand and we walked the few steps into my small bedroom.
"Well, I only have a single bed," I complained.
"It will be plenty big enough for what I have in mind," she said, with a slightly wicked look in her eyes.
We stood and kissed. My arms around her, feeling her smooth skin.
"Diane, I don't have any condoms. This isn't the kind of thing I do regularly. Or even irregularly."
"It's OK, I'm on the pill."
"Well, on that score, vasectomy 30 years ago. I was thinking more..."
