Young Woman with Older Man

Oh, my God! I couldn't believe this was happening to me. I couldn't believe that my gorgeous, dream girl, Lynn, was giving me a blowjob. Oh, baby, yeah, that's right, suck my cock. I was afraid to verbalize those thoughts for fear that she may be offended and stop.

She stopped and removed my cock from her mouth.

"Am I doing something wrong?"

"No, this is great," I said hoping that I wasn't doing something wrong for her to stop blowing me.

"Well, you were so quiet," she said pausing and looking up at me with her hand around my cock inches from her lips. "Tell me what you want. It excites me to hear you talk dirty. The more you talk, the hornier I get, and the better the blowjob that I'll give you." She put my cock back in my mouth and I watched her looking up at me, while waiting for me to tell her.

Quiet? I guess I've always been quiet, while having sex. What does she want me to do, bounce up and down on the bed, while screaming as if I'm a woman having an orgasm? Nonetheless, I figured I'd be more verbally responsive.

"Oh, baby, yeah, that's right, suck my cock. Suck it! Lick my prick, Lynn. Blow me. I love it when you suck my cock. Suck, Lynn, suck it. Blow me baby," I said new at this and feeling ridiculous saying all those things to her.

"Freddie, suddenly, I feel like I'm playing second base for the Boston Red Sox," she said laughing. "There's a huge difference between erotic pillow talk and needless chatter."

We both laughed.

"Sorry, it's just that when you said the more that I talk the better the blowjob, I didn't want to miss out."

"Don't worry," she said with a chuckle, "you won't."

The more that I said how pretty she was, the more that I said what a great body she had, and the more that I said how good her blowjob felt, the more into blowing me she was getting. Accustomed to being around women my age, women who didn't appreciate my dirty pillow talk, Lynn was refreshingly exciting. Only, it would take me a while to get back in the pillow talking game.

She started making those loud slurping and sucking sounds that are such a turn on, when I'm getting blown. I love hearing those sounds as audio feedback showing how much the woman is enjoying sucking my cock. With her lying with me in bed naked, especially in the way that she looks naked or fully dressed, this was too much to wrap around my brain. If I had wanted to custom make a woman, Lynn was her.

Where did someone so young learn to give such a blowjob? How did she become so skilled and adept at sucking cock? Where did she learn the magical things that she was now doing to my cock with her tongue, lips, and mouth. Definitely, I was receiving the best blowjob of my life. I couldn't help but start humping her head and fucking her mouth.

I played with her hair and touched her face. I wished I could have snapped on the light. I touched the base of my cock with my fingers tips to feel her lips around my erection with my cock buried in her mouth. When I touched my cock and her mouth, it gave me the image that I needed to get more excited. She sucked me while stroking me and within a few minutes I shot a load of warm semen in her mouth. She took it all as she continued sucking me and swallowing every bit that oozed out of my cock. She licked me dry.

"Oh, fuck! Lynn! Jesus!" I held her head between my hands, while humping her head and fucking her mouth. I could not stop cumming.

"Hmm, that was good," she said licking a few drops of my cum from her lips.

"Can I do something for you?"

"No, remember, we agreed" she said. "I asked you to understand that I did not want sex?"

She didn't want sex? Other than in the mind of President Clinton, since when is a blowjob not considered sex?

"But, you just blew me. Isn't that sex?"

"That's just a blowjob between friends. That's not sex. Now, if you were to lay me, if we were to have intercourse and fuck, then that would be sex." She laughed. "If you were to stick that big cock up my ass, then that would be sex." She kissed my cock. "If you were to make me cum, then that would be sex."

"So, let me get this straight. If I cum, while you're blowing me, that's not considered sex, but if I eat your pussy and make you cum, then that's considered sex," I said with confusion.

A real eye opener to the mind of the younger generation, her comment made me wonder how many friends she has blown. I found that information erotically exciting and hoped that she'd share that data with me in future pillow talking sessions.

"Yes," she said giving me that sexy smile that I could see even in the dark.

"Okay," I said still confused, but nonetheless sexually satisfied.

There's so much that I needed to understand about the younger generation. Back in my day, if I received a blowjob, that was paramount to a marriage proposal. Now that I think of it, anytime I get horny, I can ask Lynn for a bit of naked friendship and maybe, she'll understand and give me a blowjob. I like this not having sex thing. Now, I understand Bill Clinton's reasoning, when he was caught with Monica Lewinski.

As far as I was concerned, it was a unique situation and a fulfilling relationship having Lynn in my life. The weeks flew by with her sleeping beside me in the nude and with her giving me regular hand jobs and the occasional blowjob, after which, every time, I held her until she fell asleep. Believe it or not, my favorite thing to do with her was not the regular hand jobs or the occasional blowjob, it was holding and spooning with her, until she fell asleep.

I had forgotten how it felt to feel someone so young. Without a wrinkle on her perfect body, with her skin feeling so soft, she smelled so new. Do you know what I mean? She even smelled young. Her skin was so soft, yet so firm. Just touching her made me feel young again.

After being with Lynn, I could never go back to being with another woman my age. She ruined me for that. Every night, I stayed awake staring at her, while watching her sleep, until I fell asleep. She was so beautiful and, for that moment in time, she was mine and I was mad with desire for her.

Other than allowing me to feel her tits and ass, spooning together with my arm around her and my hand cupping her tit and fingering her nipple, while my cock was firmly pressed against her ass, she didn't want me to touch her pussy or to give her an orgasm. Still, holding her was what I loved doing the best with her, anyway, so I was happy. To me, foreplay was what connected me with her and the rest was anti-climatic. I just loved the feeling of her in my arms, the intimacy, and the closeness of cuddling.

We had yet to even French kiss and I so wanted to explore her mouth with my tongue. I desperately wanted to make out with her. I suspected she feared that if we started making out, she'd want to go all the way and she wasn't ready for that. Maybe with her boyfriend just dumping her, it was too soon.

Nonetheless, it was wonderful having her there with me. I looked forward to the mornings where we sat with our coffee watching the dogs play. The afternoons were the same sipping coffee, while watching the dogs, and talking. Now, instead of takeout food, Lynn cooked. Every night, she made something different and something delicious. She wasn't a great cook, but after living alone for a year, her cooking tasted way better than, what I was having delivered to the house most evening

After a while, our relationship changed. I felt it. We grew closer. There was a bond between us, only with me being so much older than her, I didn't know if it was a bond of love or just companionship.

Then, one day, it was a day like any other, when she looked at me differently than she had before. The change in how she looked at me was obvious, I thought. Only, I hoped I was reading her look correctly. Before, whenever she looked at me, she looked at me as if I was her best friend. Now, every time she looked at me, she looked like Cupid's arrow had found her heart, I hoped. She looked at me with love and as if I was her lover. We had been living together now for more than two months and Seymour was beginning to resemble a small pony in size. He was just a bit smaller than a Great Dane. Even for a Rhodesian Ridgeback, she was right, he was going to be big.

"I've been thinking about us," she said with a pensive look that frightened me at first.

Immediately, I suspected the worst and thought that she was preparing to tell me that she was moving out and leaving me. Suddenly, sadness overtook my mood and I couldn't say anything but stare at her. I was in love with her. I loved her. Even though I was old enough to be her father, I truly loved the woman.

Nonetheless, it was gratifying for me to know that she was thinking about us and that she thought about us as a couple. Prior to this sudden conversation, I was beginning to feel like her man instead of her friend. Her man...I liked the sound of that. Only, now, I feared that it was over. Perhaps, she found someone more her age. If she did, I'd be devastated.

"I've grown to have feelings for you, Freddie. I've enjoyed our time together."

Oh, oh. Is this the kiss off? What is she trying to tell me? I was waiting and ready for the prerequisite but word that they say on the television show, The Bachelorette, when they're just about to give someone the boot.

"I like you and you're a wonderful person...but I don't see us continuing in this way."

Trying to keep a brave face on the outside, I was crying on the inside. I expected her to say that, I really did, but I was still surprised, shocked actually, to hear her utter the words. Fuck! I wish I wasn't so much older than she was. I wish I was younger. I wish she wasn't so damn beautiful. This is so cruel to have her in my life and to have to let her go.

Why? I thought we connected. What did I do wrong? What did I say wrong? What could I have done different and better to make her love me? All these things rushed through my mind at once.

I looked at her, listening to what she had to say without interrupting her thoughts, hoping beyond hope that this was not the end and that I was misunderstanding her meaning. I was having a difficult time reading her. I feared hearing the words that it was over. Now that I have experienced more of her, I didn't want to live without her. Now that our relationship had moved from acquaintances walking our dogs at the dog park to living together and sleeping in the nude together, I wanted more. I wanted it all. Hoping she wanted to continue, I hoped that this was her good-bye speech. I had cold sweats and my stomach soured with the thought of her leaving me.

"At first, I had a problem with the difference in age. You're almost the same age as my Dad," she said with a chuckle. "If he was to find out that I was shacking up with a man his age, he wouldn't understand. He'd wonder what he did wrong, no doubt, believing that it was his fault, somehow, that I needed a Daddy figure in my life. There is no way that he'd believe that I could ever fall in love with an older man." She frowned, "He'd be mad. He'd be disappointed in my choice. He'd try to dissuade me from being with you."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Lynn," I said not knowing what else to say.

What does she mean? Does she love me? She referred to the L word. Her mouth was moving, but I didn't hear what she said, after the word love in reference to me, an older man. I know that I love her and have loved her from the first day that I met her, when she appeared from behind some shrubbery with her puppy. I was sick to my stomach with dread. Fearing the rejection, I almost didn't want to hear what she had to say.

"He'd be pissed at me and mad at you."

She paused to look at me, while watching how I was receiving what she had to say. I remained motionlessly quiet, stunned actually, while waiting for her to finish. My emotions were a rollercoaster. Feeling ten feet tall with the thought and the hopefulness that she, indeed, had fallen in love with me, I felt crushed that she was leaving me, perhaps, for someone else, someone younger, no doubt.

"I know my Dad would want me to be happy and he never liked my ex-boyfriend. He thought he was a prick and if I ever told him that he hit me, he'd kill him with his bare hands." She smiled, "My Dad would like you and would be happy for me to know that you have treated me well, with respect, and have been very kind to me. I could see you being friends, good friends, with my Dad."

She walked over to where I was sitting and sat on the arm of the chair taking my hand in her lap. She mindlessly played with my fingers, as she thought of what next to say. I tensed trying to read her. Was her sitting beside me, while playing with my fingers a good sign or a bad sign. I hoped that with her relaxed body language and with her touching me was a good sign.

"Tonight, when we go to bed, I want to make love."

Make love? She wants to make love with me. So, that's what this was about. I was ecstatic. I was in Heaven. She gave me such a soulful look that I had the urge to scratch her ear and pet her head. I've been around the dogs way too much and I don't think she would have understood if I suddenly said...Good girl.

"I never have intercourse with anyone unless I have strong feelings for them," she said giving me a look that melted my heart. "I stopped having intercourse with my boyfriend months before we ended it at the dog park. For me, it was over long before that day that he hit me for the last time." She lifted my hand to her lips and kissed my fingers. "I'm ready to take the next step with you, Freddie, that is, if you're ready to take the next step with me."

If I am ready? Are you serious? Pinch me, I'm dreaming. What time is it, 4pm? Can we go to bed now? Suddenly, I'm very tired, sleepy, actually. I can barely stay awake. I wanted to yawn, but didn't. I didn't want her to think that I was bored and not interested in all that she said. All of these thoughts flashed through my mind like an electrical current, but I didn't dare utter any of them. I didn't want to make light of the seriousness of our relationship and this moment, with levity, as always I do at the wrong time.

"Lynn, I couldn't be happier. Yes, of course, I want to see where this will go." I looked up at her and smiled. "I have feelings for you, too, deep feelings." I couldn't resist. I grabbed my cock and we both laughed. I couldn't help but inject some humor. It was suddenly feeling a bit melodramatic.

"I'm so happy, Freddie," she said giving me a kiss.

"In the short time that I've known you, you've touched my heart." I put my arm around her waist. "At first, my attraction to you was physical because of how gorgeous you are and because of how young you are. I am attracted to younger women. I was flattered to think that someone as beautiful as you, someone as young as you, would be interested in an old man like me."

I coughed pretending that I was feeble and she laughed. I loved her laugh. I loved making her laugh.

My hand lightly massaged her back moving from the back of her bra to the top of her panty, as I formulated my thoughts. I loved feeling her underwear beneath her clothes. I find it so erotic to outline her bra and trace her panty with my fingertips knowing what pure pleasure lies beneath those thin layers of silk and satin fabric.

"Now, everything is so right with you, with us. Everything is so natural. I can't imagine you not being part of my life. I can't imagine you getting up and thanking me for my hospitality and leaving suddenly for another man, a younger man. That would kill me."

"That will never happen, Freddie. You're stuck with me," she said with a laugh.

"Well, if having you in my life is being stuck with you, I'm glad to be attached to you at the hip." I stood and grabbed my car keys. "This is an occasion to celebrate. I'm going to drive to the liquor store and pickup a bottle of champagne."

"Oh, goody," she said clapping her hands. "I love champagne."

"Tell you what; I'll stop by the market and pickup a couple of lobsters, too. Let's make this a night to remember."

With that, I was out the door and on my way to buy all the fixings to celebrate a new beginning with a new woman in my life. I was so happy.

In the excitement, I inadvertently left my wallet home. I didn't realize that I didn't have it with me, until I was standing in the checkout line ready to pay for the champagne. Normally, something like that, forgetting my wallet would put me in a foul mood, but I was in such a good mood that I didn't mind the drive home to get it. Even the thought of the return drive back to the liquor store didn't bother me, as it normally would have. Normally, just thinking about driving back and forth would have made me tired. Now, with her in my life, I felt younger and didn't feel as beaten down as I did before. Life, suddenly, with Lynn in it was good.

There was an old, battered pickup truck parked out front, when I pulled up to the house. I don't know why, but I sensed something wrong and instead of pulling in the driveway, I parked the next house down. The trees in front of my house gave me plenty of cover, enough to sneak around back where the back light was on and where I heard voices. It was him, her damn ex-boyfriend pleading his case and wanting her to take him back. How he found where I live, I have no idea, but it took him more than two months to do it. Maybe, he followed us home one day from the dog park. Wanting to know if she was still interested in him, I stood there listening to them.

"Lynn, I know I screwed up. I treated you like shit and called you names. I hit you. And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry, Lynn. I'm so sorry. I really am so sorry" he said.

He was just inside the back porch with one foot on the top step. He was standing with his back to me and she was sitting in front of him with his body blocking her view from seeing me peeking around a tree. I was glad that she didn't allow him in the house. I figured he must have come around back, when she saw who it was and didn't answer the door. "I love you. I'm lost without you. Please, come home. Please, let's give it another try. I love you, Lynn."

"I'll never go back with you. I don't love you. It's over between us." In the way that she said that, cold and detached, I believed her. Only, I hope I never hear those words from her lips. Then, she said it. "I'm happy with Freddie. He's good to me. He makes me laugh," she said smiling. "And I love him."

When she told him that she loved me, it sent goose bumps down my arms. She loves me. Roses are red and violets are blue, Lynn loves me and I love her, too. She really loves me.

Only, the look on her boyfriend's face was instant rage. Lynn didn't see it, but I did. He covered himself almost immediately with his sincere and trusting face. This guy was a sick bastard, a real psycho.

"Lynn, I'll be good to you," he said taking a step closer to her. "I'll treat you better. I promise that I'll never hit you, again."

"You'd better leave, John, before Freddie gets back," she said practically growling at him. "He's not going to like you on his property. And I can't be responsible for what he does to you, especially after I told him that was not the first time you hit me."

John. His name is John. Funny how she never mentioned his name and I never asked.

"Fuck him! Who the fuck does he think he is?" Instantly, he turned from the apologetic boyfriend to the raving, lunatic artist that he really is. I was so glad that she saw through him and realized who he really was, a real prick. Some people will never change.

"You'd better go, now. Freddie will be here any minute."

"He's an old man. What's he going to do to me? He got lucky that day, when he hit me. I wasn't expecting that. He sucker punched me and if he ever tried that again, I'll kill him." He took a step towards her; actually, walking onto my back porch. He lifted her up off the chair and pulled her out the back door. "You're coming home with me, now."