My Lover My... Uncle?!

A young writer struggles to get her career going. She meets an older man, a professor, who is supportive but dealing with a terrible situation. They're both equally needy and find comfort in each other. Soon, they're both in for a big surprise. But can they both get past the shock...

Hope you enjoy the story! Emails are always welcome.

DG xo

The loud vibrating

thunk

on the table was startling. Few were in the library, and out of them, none were under thirty-five. Well, one. And she chose my table to wrestle four oversized books.

I glanced at the titles. All but one was considered a coffee table book. Pretty pictures. The other was a rather interesting travel book about spa resorts. Interesting choices for a young girl.

I went back to working on my lesson plan. The college asked me to add another class to my load and, like an idiot, I agreed. Well not an idiot maybe, because it was another way to stay busy.

You see my wife Myra was nearly dead. I won't get into why I think it happens to some and not others. Some leave this earth quickly, others linger. My wife lingered. Still lingers. She no longer knows me. I feel the end is near. But I've felt that before. I push it from my mind.

Another

thud

on the table and I glanced up.

"Sorry!" she stage whispered. "These are so big and heavy."

She sat with her back to the large window. Wild curls sprung from her head like corkscrews. A bright blue corkscrew shot out of the top of her head. Neon green another direction. It seemed as though her hair might be red naturally, but it was difficult to say.

She flipped through the pages and would stop and type on her laptop. Flip and type, flip and type until she got to the end. Then

thunk

another book would come off the pile and fall to the table.

I continued to work on my outline for a while. I looked up and she was gone. The big books were neatly piled on the table.

A shadow fell across my paper. She was back with another armload of books. THUNK. She glanced at me and cringed with a big shoulder shrug. She looked high school age, but I was always terrible at aging people.

She sat at the end of the table this time. As she flipped through the pages, I noticed her creamy white skin and decided the red was her own. One blue and one green corkscrew just set her apart from any other curly redhead.

She pushed the last book aside and sighed. I glanced up and she smiled.

"Maybe there's something I can help you with," I asked. "I'm pretty familiar with this library."

"I used to come here often, but the convenience of the computer makes my research quicker and easier. I'm looking for resorts around the world."

"Hmm, resorts. Holiday or specialty? Like weight loss? Or health? Couples?"

"I don't know."

"Okay then. Why are you looking for resorts?"

"I'm a freelance writer. My biggest assignment to date is to do a piece on resort spas or a specific spa. He was pretty vague."

"For a magazine?" I asked.

"Yes, for subscribers only. He wouldn't even show me a copy so I could get the feel for it."

I decided she must be older than she looks.

"Is it an adult magazine?" I asked, trying to narrow it down.

"Like X-rated?" She thought. "He did say nothing was off-limits, which I thought was weird. He was so vague. Usually, they are precise in what they want."

"Well," I should have thought this through, but I blurted, "I have a book on adult resorts at home. I know this sounds suspicious but I'm on the up and up, as they say. I'm a professor at the college, so girls usually pick me up." She laughed.

"Maybe the book is here?"

"No, it's pretty explicit. They wouldn't have it here." I looked down at my paper. "Anyway, you're welcome to come over and look through it for ideas. I have work to finish here and will be heading home."

I went back to my outline, and she continued to bring books back. THUNK. Sigh. THUNK. Sigh.

"I guess if you wouldn't mind, I would like to see that book. I'm getting nowhere here."

"Of course. I have a couple more things to write out and I'll be ready to go. My apartment is only a couple of blocks away. We'll walk."

It was a beautiful fall day. Still warm, but thick with the scent of the leaves crunching underfoot.

"I've seen these buildings," she said as I opened the door. "Converted factories, right?"

"Yes, they transformed three industrial buildings into lofts. I was one of the first to move in."

The freight elevator creaked and rattled up to the top floor.

"This is fantastic!" She walked in, looked up at the soaring ceilings, and spun around. "I love all the open space."

"Thank you. I was able to choose the layout of the space."

"Wow," she ran her hand over the soft gouges in the wood. "What did they make here?"

"Research showed that a number of manufacturers cycled through. One was a shoe factory. Back when they started mass-producing shoes in vinyl. Oh yes, a candy factory was here at one point too."

"Imagining history creates a lot of fantasies," she murmured. "Oh, a kitty!" Dexter trotted out from his favorite hidey hole and went right up to Claire, posturing for a scratch. "Torties are my favorite!"

I had books stacked here and there. The covers were thrown back on my bed from when I got up. My coffee cup was on the countertop.

"Yes, it does make you wonder what all happened here."

I watched the emotions flit across her face. She was indeed fantasizing about history. Not so much what was manufactured here, but what might have happened with the people that passed through. I can't say I didn't wonder that from time to time, but she was creating much more of a vision of it.

She walked to an antique table that lived with me through the years and picked up a picture.

"This is your wife?" I nodded. "She's beautiful."

"She used to be beautiful to everyone, now she's just beautiful to me." She looked quizzical. "Myra is in hospice care currently. She has been sick the last ten years."

She stared at the picture for a moment before looking up with tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I just can't imagine being together for so long and then losing them."

"It has been difficult but it's what we sign on for when we marry." I shrugged. I've had enough time for salvation bravado.

She carefully set the picture down and walked over to the telescope.

"I'll bet you can see forever this far up? May I?"

I adjusted it, and she peered into it. "I thought it might be trained in a neighbor's window."

"Not yet, that's after dark," I said, and she looked at me and laughed.

"Good one."

"I'll get the book for you. Make yourself comfortable."

She settled into an oversized suede reading chair and the cat made himself at home in her lap. I handed her the book. "It is adult reading. Just so you know." She quirked an eyebrow and smiled. "I'm going to make myself some tea. Would you like a cup?"

"Please!" She began leafing through the pages. "So, these are adult resorts of the world, right? Some seem X-rated, some just don't allow children?"

"Correct," I replied. I mixed milk and sugar in both our teas without asking her and placed them on the table between us. "The author seemed to cover all the angles."

"Have you been to any of these?"

"I have, yes. It has been years ago."

"Which one? For what?" she asked, looking up at me.

"Forms of sex, mostly tantric, located in India," I replied. I watched her contemplate that for a minute.

"Wow, you live in a cool place and have done cool things!"

I blinked. Not expecting that. I didn't know how I thought she would react, but I have taught generations of college students and I learned long ago to not second guess them. Some are open, some recently have a festering hatred of boomers. You either wallow in it, or you work through it. This was a girl that was going to be a success.

"Thank you, I think so too."

We discussed other spas and resorts. She finally came across the one I went to and read intently.

"l can envision you there," she said, studying me.

"I was young," I smiled. Sure, she was picturing me the age I was now.

"I get that, but yet, I can even imagine you there right now. You have a sense of virility that few men have. Maybe it's a lost art or maybe it comes with maturity. I don't know," she trailed off as though talking to herself more than me.

How can this young girl read me within a few hours of knowing her? I've been lucky in that I've lost little of my sexuality as I've aged. Possibly because I've not had sex since my wife's illness. There's a possibility that I don't know if I can even have sex. I'm able to masturbate with the same potency in that way. I don't plan on finding out. At least until Myra is gone.

"I don't know what you have planned for dinner, but I have enough for two if you'd like to stay?"

She looked up and smiled. "I would, thank you."

I wondered if she saw the relief on my face when I realized I wasn't going to lose her. For a while at least.

She helped me in the kitchen, and we had dinner whipped up in no time. I opened a bottle of wine and we sat down at my little table.

"It's nice having company for dinner. I eat alone too often."

"I do as well. I'm more of a homebody and don't often go out," she said. "I'm usually writing and don't feel like getting dressed up enough to go out." She laughed.

We cleaned up and went back to the book. "It's getting late. I don't want to keep you up."

"I'm a night owl," I admitted. "You could stay all night and it wouldn't bother me!" We both laughed at that until the words sunk in. Too late to take them back. "Hey, it's dark. Would you like to look through the telescope again?" I said, changing the subject.

She grinned and wagged her eyebrows. "I would! Let's see what naughty things your neighbors are up to. I thought if I ever got a telescope, all I'd ever do is spy on my neighbors," she laughed.

"Why, I would never do that!" I said and she looked dubious.

"I knew you were BSing me." She grinned comically.

"No wonder I feel like I've known you forever. You remind me so much of my sister," I laughed. "She always told me I was BSing her."

"Oh! I found a window!" she said excitedly.

"Really. What's going on?"

"Oh, I think it's their kitchen. Darn."

"Well, you know Claire, kitchens can be exciting places too."

"Oh, I forgot you're into exotic sex. Is sex in every room a thing?"

I had to laugh at her again. This is the most I've laughed in a long time, and it felt good.

"Maybe there's a story in that for you to research?" I spoke.

She was still searching for an active window.

"It just might be. You must think I'm very naughty? I've only just met you and I'm asking you about sex in every room and looking for action through your telescope," she laughed.

"What I think is that I've enjoyed more with you and laughed more with you than with anyone in a long time."

She turned around, took a step, and wrapped her arms around my neck hugging me. I had to admit, a soft warm body felt damn good. It had been too long. I tentatively put my arms around her. She hugged me tighter, and I pulled her against me. Propriety be damned. I was pretty sure by now she knew I wasn't a flagrant lecher.

"This is nice." Her voice was muffled in my neck. Her soft breath washed over my ear like a jolt of electricity. The brush of her curls on my face, the clean scent of her shampoo, and her soft body overwhelmed my senses. All I could do was nod in reply and hold her tightly against me.

After a minute, maybe an hour, I don't know, I stepped away. I got lost in her. I saved any regretful negativity until later. After she was gone. For right now, I was going to soak up whatever I could of any happiness.

"It's getting late," she said, and I could tell she took it as rejection. I've been on my own so long I didn't think past my reaction. She gathered up her jacket and computer bag and walked to the door.

She took what seemed like one last look around, smiled and me, and was out the door.

How could I have been so stupid? Self-flagellation wasn't normally my strong suit but deserving. She was giving me a friendly hug like anyone would comfort someone, and I reacted like an ass.

I walked across the street to the apartment that my wife and I shared. I let myself in quietly so as not to disturb Myra's caretaker. I went and just sat by her bed. I held her hand. She wasn't aware anymore. She already left me. I only had the shell. I sobbed at how life was unfair to her. Maybe a little sorrow for myself too.

After an hour I crossed the street, took the freight elevator to my loft, grabbed a bottle of wine, and drowned my sorrows.

I took on more tutoring after classes to keep me busy. Even though three weeks passed, the book stayed on the table where she left it as a sort of finger-pointing at me. Just to remind me that I'm not her age. She was being nice to an old man. Get over yourself, John.

One night I went to the telescope and looked through to see what she was looking at that night. It was focused on a bed. I imagine if I looked often enough, I would see what she was looking for. I didn't move it.

One afternoon someone began banging on my door. I never got company and assumed it to be an enterprising peddler to come all the way up here.

I threw the door open to Claire. We stared at each other for a moment, then I noticed the duffel bags over each shoulder and two suitcases.

"Are you moving in," I asked amusedly while moving her two cases inside the door. I slid the heavy duffel bags off her shoulders and piled them on the suitcases. She still stood in the hall, so I guided her in.

"I'm sorry."

"For what," I said, putting my arm around her shoulders and leading her to the reading chair. She seemed dazed and I was getting concerned. "Are you alright? You're not sick, are you?"

She blinked. "No, I'm not sick. I just got kicked out of my apartment. I'm going home."

"Kicked out? Whatever for?"

"I haven't been making enough at my writing to pay the rent. I've tried. I give him whatever I have coming in, but he said it wasn't enough and evicted me."

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry." I crouched down in front of her. "You can go home to your parents? I mean you do have somewhere to go?"

She nodded. "I have a car. I just have to get it out of the parking garage." She was visibly upset. "I'm such a failure."

"You didn't fail, Claire. You had a setback. We all deal with that at times. Things don't always go our way. And it's expensive to live in the city."

Her fingers were loosely clasped in her lap, and I rubbed her arm. She needed more than words. I knew that. Because it happened to me last time, I was with her.

She was petite and I easily picked her up, sat in the chair, and kept her on my lap. Her head lay on my shoulder while I rubbed circles on her back. Her soft curls brushed my face, and I noticed the blue and green had faded. It seemed she had faded from when I last saw her.

"Making a living at writing is tough. It takes lots of free writing to get to the payment part. The term starving artists don't only apply to painters."

"I guess so. I tried so hard, John. Nothing worked."

I held her closer, and she wrapped an arm around my chest. Her soft breasts pressed into me, and I tried to ignore how wonderful her body felt on mine. She didn't need my depraved attitude during this time.

Her head was on my shoulder, her breath making soft puffs on my neck and ear. I tried to ignore that, and how my hard cock was nearly embedding itself in her soft ass. Thankfully she was too upset to notice, but there was nothing I could do about it anyhow.

"John?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

She lifted her head and looked at me. Her lips were inches from my cheek, if I turned my head our lips would touch.

"I want to kiss you."

"You're upset, Claire. Not thinking straight. I'm not going to take--"

Her lips covered mine stopping all talk, slamming the brakes on all thought. Her hand was on the side of my face while she angled her head, taking the kiss deeper. She tipped her head again and opened her mouth over mine and dipped her tongue in, tasting me. She moaned so softly that I was unsure until she cupped the back of my head and kissed me deeper, moaning louder.

I wasn't about to take advantage of her, but I wanted to indulge myself in her kisses for just a little longer. It had been so long for me.

I wove my fingers through her soft corkscrews and began to kiss her back. She moaned and pressed her breasts into my chest. Her nipples were so hard I could feel them through our clothing. She rubbed against me and whimpered.

"Help me," she whispered against my lips, pressing her breasts harder into my chest.

I cupped my hand over her breast, the nipple grew even longer against my palm. Her breasts were firm, yet so soft. I gently kneaded and she moaned, pushing into my hand.

Her tongue stroked in and out my mouth. Our kisses turned wet and messy. The intensity level raised.

She moved my hand under her shirt. Her bra was soft and thin, and I pinched her nipple. She sighed. The bra became an obstruction and I pulled it down, taking her bare breast in my hand.

"Oh yesss," she murmured against my neck. She made no pretense of what she needed. "Pinch my nipples."

I pinched and pulled her nipples harder. Her breath puffed in my ear, steamy and hot.

Suddenly she sat up, grabbed the hem of her top, and pulled it over her head. One breast was out of the bra, the other still contained. She reached back and freed them. She fumbled with my shirt, and I quickly took it off.

She crushed them on my chest, her hard nipples drilling into me. I wrapped my arms around her to hold her tight Our kisses were more enthusiastic because we were hot skin to hot skin. As she rubbed her bare tits into me, she rocked against my cock.

"I need you, John," she murmured. "I want you."

"I'm married, Claire," I replied, trying to keep some amount of reality, more so, control.

"I know you are. I don't want you to forget about her. Or love me. You deserve pleasure. We both do. We're both needy."

Oh god how I'd love to feel her body against mine. Remember what it's like to sink my cock into a hot wet tight pussy. Feel like a man again.

"I know you need me too." Her breath puffed, her teeth caught my earlobe and I thought I was losing my mind. She rocked her ass against my cock again. "You want to sink your cock into me, don't you? Remember what it feels like to have a warm body under you, a hot pussy to lose yourself in."

She was reading my mind and I was swirling in arousal with her words and the scent of her and lavendar. "OH god, Claire," I moaned, realizing that I had my hands on her ass, squeezing her round globes.

She stood up and held out her hand. She was only half-naked, and I was already trembling. She tugged and I stood up. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. She ran her hands down my back, then back up. Her hands were all over my back, then around to my chest.

She looked down, backed up, and rubbed her nipples on my furry chest. "That feels so good," she moaned, her fingers weaving through and tugging.

She rubbed them in circles. Heard her moaning. Knew she was almost as needy as I. She tucked her fingers in the waist of my pants. My cock tented my pants, and she slipped her fingers in, brushing the head of my cock with her fingertips.

"Oh god damn," I moaned and before I was done my pants were down and her soft hands were cupping my balls and wrapped around my cock. "Oh, fuck you can't believe," I ground out, moaning louder.

She thumbed the precum over the head. She gripped the shaft tightly, perfectly, and gave a couple of strokes. How did I go so long without a woman's touch I wondered? I knew, but now with her hands on me, I couldn't stop if I wanted.