She wanted to find a way to thank him. He had been of great help to her when she needed it most. She was a new teacher and had wanted to impress the rest of the staff and her boss with a fantastic way to teach her third graders about the weather. Becca knew the cookies and beer in the back seat weren't much of a thank you, but she had hoped they would at least be a start. As she drove down the long dirt road she remembered how she had begun to crush on this very intelligent and generous man. He had a good fifteen years on her, and his experience definitely translated into everything he did; from the words he used, and the confidence in his voice, to the way he moved across the room – slowly but well pronounced. Both in long talks about life and in general observations, she could tell Rick had lived through some major ups and downs. He had survived them all and come out of them stronger than before. He knew what he stood for, and he knew why he stood for it. His excitement and passion for history, literature, nature and philosophy sent waves of electricity up and down her spine. When she would shiver he'd ask if she was cold. All she could do was blush and shake her head while gazing at the ground.
Just day-dreaming about his voice and his passion made her skin tingle in the hot car all by herself. She had to laugh at herself as she shook it off. She wondered how long she would have this crush before it blew over. At the very least, she had gotten a few glorious nights out of the deal where she couldn't quite tell if it was her dildo or some phantom version of Rick rocking her body to orgasmic explosions she had never felt with any other man before. Before she realized it, she was turning into his driveway, putting the car in park and shutting off the ignition. Just looking at his front door initiated a little cartwheel between her hips.
"Fuck, settle down, baby girl. You act like you're here to ride the man into oblivion. You know better than that. Hell, you're not even his type." She had a habit of talking to herself as a form of soothing herself. With that, she checked her hair in the mirror sighed and gave herself the "best choice" look she gave her own students when they did something...childish. Her hips, however, had a mind of their own as they carried her slowly to the back of the car, sliding from side to side with each step to the trunk. Rolling her eyes at herself one more time as she bent over into the trunk, she began the walk to his door, and then rang the bell.
...
He was sitting alone in his large and empty house. He wasn't particularly interested in watching TV or turning the radio on just right now. It seemed as though every channel was running a show about sex, and every station playing songs about late night hook-ups. He had to laugh at himself when the phrase "hook up" popped into his head. Rick was too old for hooking up, but he wasn't too old to remember how good it felt to do so; or even the last time he had. Years had passed, but he could still remember it like it was yesterday. Hell, he thought to himself, in a way it was yesterday. I can't believe I had to wash the sheets last night; let alone actually feeling the need to do so.
"I'm a dirty old man. What the hell is the matter with me?" Had he just said that aloud? Most definitely. Getting up to make a pot of coffee, he caught himself in the midst of fantasizing. Out of nowhere, glancing at his countertop he imagined helping her up onto it in the middle of a long slow kiss. A twitch behind his zipper (and an over flowing pot of water) brought him back to reality. A little too perfectly, the doorbell rang as he placed the pot back on the burner to receive its contents.
He rolled his eyes at himself when he noticed he had been preening on the way down the hall. Breathing deeply, he opened the door. My God, she's beautiful.
...
Steady those knees, baby girl. "Hey, Rick, I come bearing gifts." Every fiber in her being wanted to be thrown at that man standing in front of her. Every fiber in her brain kept her in one place, holding the cookies and beer out for him to accept; which he did. Upon entering the house she noticed it was stone quiet, which was unusual for him. Usually something was making noise. Today, all she could hear was the coffee maker and the birds chirping through the windows. "Everything okay?"
"Fine, why – Oh, the quiet? Yeah, just garbage on TV so I didn't bother." She walked past him to a window in the kitchen. She loved the view from that window. For some reason the trees were looking extra green and lush. He loved the view of the young woman walking away from him. "Shit," he muttered to himself.
"Sorry?" Becca had heard him after all.
"Nothing, just thinking. The beer got warm so I'll just throw it in the fridge. The cookies are probably fine, though." Damnit, man.
"Works for me, I'll head outside." And bend my ass over the railing of your deck just in the hopes that you'll want it... She was fighting a losing battle.
