NOTE: As the title says, this story is a sequel. Please read the previous one for a better understanding.
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I tried to get on with my life after that weekend. I worked normally, did my daily exercises, ate well, and even had a date that ended in sex.
The problem was that while I was doing all of this, Patrick was on my mind and no matter how hard I tried to push him away, he kept coming back. And the worst part? We hadn't spoken since we said goodbye at the airport. The memory of him was enough to keep me obsessed with this 19-year-old boy. I hit rock bottom at a date I had in the meantime. The man was a patient of mine. I know, "the lack of ethics in dating a patient and all and blablabla."
When Frank found out about my divorce, he got up the courage to ask me out to dinner and I accepted. A little older than me, about my height, with a bit of a belly, but still charming. He picked me up at home, took me to an expensive place and paid for everything, and the conversation was... normal? It wasn't bad, but also nothing to get excited about, not least because I already knew him a bit from all the life talk while he was lying on my dentist chair.
Even without much excitement, I invited him into my house, and without wasting much time, I grabbed him before he had even closed the front door. I tried to be wild, like the night with Patrick, giving him a loud, intense and wet kiss, but Frank seemed scared. I insisted on that intensity, threw his clothes on the way to my room, pushed him onto the bed, took off my red dress and joined him. When I pulled down his underwear, his cock was still soft and I had to try hard to get it up, but I managed, luckily I'm good at blowjobs.
Frank asked me to lie down and leave it to him, and then I thought I'd get what I wanted, but once again it was... normal. He fucked me missionary position, just like Patrick, but the performance of the two was incomparable, which is understandable given the age difference. I was the one who had unfairly set my expectations too high.
I didn't come close to coming, but at a moment when things were really improving, I made a serious mistake.
"Yeah Patrick, fuck my pussy!" I moaned out loud.
I immediately realized my mistake and even tried to cover it up, but he noticed and I could see that he noticed. What was getting better got worse. At least he managed to cum and lay down beside me. I forgot to mention that he insisted on wearing a condom. Although I would have liked him without it, as you already know is my preference, it was good that I didn't have to get up to take care of it. Frank got up and threw it in the bathroom.
When he came back, he started picking up his clothes. The least I could do to make up for changing his name was to ask him to sleep there with me, and so we did. We went our separate ways, he in his underwear and I in the beautiful black lace panties I'd worn under my dress on the date.
The morning couldn't have been any different: I woke up alone in bed, with no messages and no future appointments with this patient.
"Girl, why don't you text Patrick?" Andrea asked me as soon as I'd told her about the date.
We were drinking wine in my living room.
"I don't know if I should, this weekend has been crazy enough." I stared at the turned off TV, memories flooding my mind.
"I think your body is itching for another crazy time." She pulled my face up so I could look at her again.
"Yeah... that much is clear." I took a deep breath and took a sip of my drink.
"It's called cock love. You know I understand." He winked at me.
"That boy makes me so insecure, he's probably gone back to dating girls his own age and forgotten all about me."
"I really doubt that. Those girls are all the same, you're an older woman and you're the mother of his friend."
"Don't say that, I feel like a terrible mother for doing that." I looked away again, this time at the coffee table.
"My point is that he should remember these moments as much as you do."
"And why hasn't he texted me since?" I frowned, it bothered me a little, even though I'd done the same thing.
"Maybe for the same reason you did. Maybe he think you're bored with men your own age and forgot about him." She took a sip. "The way you're insecure, maybe he is too. He's diminishing himself because he's still a college boy."
I smiled shyly and looked back at my friend. "How come you always know what to say to me?"
"Girl, if there's one thing I understand in this life, it's relationships."
"Okay, I'll text him tomorrow."
Tomorrow came and I spent the day thinking about it. I tried to think of the best way to talk to Patrick, as if it were something super complex when he's just a college kid. It was only when I got home from work in the middle of the afternoon that I plucked up the courage.
Claudia: Hi, is my son with you? I'm trying to talk to him.
Okay, I couldn't be direct.
Patrick: Hi
Patrick: Chris is next to me on his cell phone and I haven't seen a call from you.
Claudia: That's good, you're the one I want to talk to.
Patrick: Good :)
Patrick: I thought you didn't want to talk to me after.... you know.
Claudia: I thought YOU didn't want to talk to me anymore.
Claudia: I've been waiting for a message from you all this time. I thought you'd forgotten me.
Patrick: I've already told you that you are unforgettable, Ms. Claudia.
And he managed to make me blush with his text.
Patrick: I only respected your decision if you regretted it.
Patrick: I know that your situation is much more complicated than mine.
Claudia: How could I regret something that was so good?
Claudia: I... I think about it every day.
Patrick: Me too.
Patrick: I jerked off in the bathroom just thinking about our sex.
I laughed out loud alone in the kitchen.
Claudia: Well... let's just say that I have also used my vibrator a few times.
Patrick: Do you want to call me?
Patrick: I can go somewhere quieter, away from Chris.
Claudia: I'd like to hear your voice again.
Patrick: Wait a minute
While I was waiting for his call, I filled my water bottle and went to my room to lie down. I spent about 2 or 3 minutes on Instagram and then I got the call.
"Hi." I said awkwardly as I answered.
"Hi, Ms. Claudia." He answered.
This boy has an unbelievable power to make me relive things that are so far removed from my life. Being there in my bed under the comforter, wearing fluffy pyjamas and nervous about being in contact with someone was something I thought would stay with me in my teens, but there I was, going through the same thing at 44.
"Are you away from my son?"
"Yep."
"Good. How are things going there?"
I actually wanted to know about the girls at college, but I was afraid of sounding too jealous.
"Oh, you know how it is, that end-of-semester rush."
"Are you studying?"
"Yes, and your son has helped me a lot. He's a good friend, you've brought him up well."
"Yeah, but that's a lot of him too, he's always been studious like that." And now I'm a terrible mother for being involved with his friend. "Speaking of which, what do you think about spending another weekend here at my house? I can help you study."
