I’ve got a little story for you.
See, I’m not the prettiest chick you have ever seen, I’d give a five-foot ruler a run for its money, and over the years, I’ve let myself go a bit. I’ve got broad shoulders and the arse to match and biggish round tits that gravity has been trying to take down for a while.
Anyway, I teach apprentices. One day, I got this kid in my class that stood out a little from the rest. He’s what many would call an Adonis. I looked at this kid and thought, ‘Shit, he certainly reminds me of an old boyfriend I’d had when I was an apprentice’.
I had to go away to Brisbane for some of my training. On one trip, I had gone out with a group of other apprentices, and I met this bloke. It was probably the five hottest weeks of my life.
I was a lot fitter and lighter in those days and I had been told, I scrubbed up okay. Anyway, I bumped into this bloke at the bar and damn near spilt my Rum and Coke on him. We got talking, and I invited him back to the table.
He told me he was between jobs and occasionally did gigs as a gigolo. I could well believe it, as he was hot.
I laughed and told him, “Well, that was me out of the picture. As a poor apprentice, I barely had enough to pay for my own drinks.”
Nonetheless, we got on famously, and he invited me back to his place. We couldn’t go to mine because I was staying in a boarding house and we were not allowed to have guests in our rooms.
The body was as hot as the face. The guy had the thickest cock I’d ever seen by then or since, and he certainly knew how to use it. I was buggered more ways than one by the next day.
He would pick me up from the residences after work and drop me back in the morning or that evening. On the weekends, he took me to places in Fortitude Valley, Brisbane, I doubt many local’s especially back in the eighties, would have known about.
As much sex as we had, we generally just liked being together. He had a wicked sense of humour and a quick brain and liked to debate many different topics with me. He loved holding my hand when we were out or have me sit beside him so he could hold my hand.
So after five wonderful weeks, I had to go home, and I kissed him goodbye. He had been a cool boyfriend, and I missed him when I left.
Since then, I’ve had a couple of kids, and then I married. Almost two years ago, my husband died in a plane crash, and now it is just the cat and me. My boys have their own homes and families to take care of.
Back to this kid, we got talking, and the kid says, “Women are the ban of my life, just like for my dad.”
He was on a real downer. When I looked at him, I noticed this funny little kink in his earlobe and I knew I had seen that formation before. I asked him to turn around so I could see the other side of his face. Confused, he complied.
Yep, he had the same damn diamond birthmark just under his left jaw near his ear. I asked him to hold up his hand, palm out. His pointer finger was longer than his ring finger, and the tip of his little finger kinked out.
I smiled and shook my head. “Did your dad live in Brisbane back in the eighties?” I asked.
Now he really looked at me strangely. “Yes he did,” he told me. Then he frowned hard.
He wore an expression that I had seen on his dad’s face, when he was thinking about an argument to come back at me with, when we had one of our marathon debates. The expression was one that I remembered well. This kid was a spitting image, and about the same age as his dad had been, when I met him.
“Shit! You her, are you?” he asked me.
Not sure what he meant, I said, “Sorry, I have no idea what you’re on about.”
“Where were you living when you think you met my dad?”
“Maryborough,” I told him.
He looked a little in awe at me. Then said sheepishly, “My dad said she did something to him on his back that no one else has ever done since.”
I grinned at him remembering Arian’s sensitive spot. I asked him, “Can I touch you?”
He agreed, so I stood and went behind him and touched him in the same spot. A shiver ran down the kid’s spine. I went as sat back down and lit up another smoke.
“Fuck!” he said and then shook himself all over. “Did you know that my dad says that you were the only one whoever remembered to look at his face and not just at his cock?”
I laughed out loud. Having frank conversations with my apprentices was common as they soon worked out I was no shrinking violet. I would give it to them straight if the subjects wondered that way. As they often did with blokes, who were either in their late teens or early twenties, as the ones I taught were.
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” I said. “He had a nice bod. Actually, I vaguely remember him saying that he had met up with a couple of his exes at parties and they had come on to him. It wasn’t until he said their names that they realised they in fact already knew him. I knew it pissed him off.”
Joe nodded. “Yep, I have the same problem,” he said. “I broke up with my last girlfriend several weeks ago. We had been going out together for two months. I met her at a friend’s party on the weekend, and she did the same thing. I was so disgusted I went home,” he told me.
Obviously, the reason for the downer he was feeling. I could feel his pain. To distract him and satisfy my own curiosity I asked, “So what’s your dad doing these days?”
He smiled. “He got an apprenticeship after he met you, same trade, now he owns his own business,” he told me proudly.
“Cool, he was a smart cookie. We used to have some awesome debates,” I told him.
“He is single again,” he told me with a sly grin.
Joe knew I was too, so I had to laugh. It wasn’t very often I had a kid trying to fix me up with his dad. I asked, “So how many times has he been married?”
He gave me a sobering look. Sadly, Joe said, “He told me once that he only married my mum because he knew I was his. They split up when I was four, and I’ve always lived with my dad. I haven’t seen my mum for years. I don’t even know which state she lives in.”
I touched the back of his hand and said, “Sometimes things don’t work out how we think they should, huh!”
I had finished my durrie, so we went back to class.
Later as we were walking out at the end of the lesson, he walked with me.
“Hey Miss, would you like to meet up with my dad again?” he asked tentatively.
“Damn! You don’t want to shock the poor bloke. I’m not the girl I used to be when he knew me,” I told him.
He looked me up and down and grinned. “Oh, I think as far as my dad would be concerned, you are.”
I looked at him trying to work out what he meant, but he didn’t say anything else. The kid worked on me for the next two weeks, whenever I saw him.
I only work three days a week out of choice. When I had him in class, he would tell us things his dad had taught or told him, in relation to the topic I was teaching. I knew what he was doing. I was even more curious as to why the kid was trying to sell me so hard on his dad.
Finally, on a Friday as we were walking out he said to me, “I told dad you were my teacher.”
I said to him with a grin, “Did you tell him I was still just as short but now old and fat to boot?”
“Yep,” he said.
So I punched him in the arm gently, you have to be careful touching your students, even as a Lady Teacher. He laughed and then on a more serious note he said, “He would still like to see you. How about you meet us for a coffee in the mall. You pick the time and café?”
I was dubious. I haven’t dated since my husband died, and I wasn’t sure I was ready. I’d been with him for a long time, and you don’t just forget someone you loved for years in a minute. “Just coffee,” I said.
“Cool, where and when?” He was striking while the iron was hot.
He had a lot of his dad in him I decided. I laughed. “The one across from the bookstore, at ten-thirty,” I said wondering what the hell I was getting into.
He gave me the biggest grin, and I could see he had all his dads’ charm. He rushed off, saying over his shoulder, “We will be there tomorrow Miss, see ya.”
I shook my head and headed to my car.
So I get home.
I had a hard time writing my story that night. Odd little thoughts and flashes of memory kept popping in and out of my head. I gave up in disgusted around midnight and went to bed.
I get up and shower, and I was wondering what the hell I was going to wear to this meeting. I’m one of these weird chicks that don’t actually give a shit about clothes. I’d worn industrial work clothes most of my life, and at home these days I lived in a cotton nightie and wore shorts and a T-shirt if I went out.
My lack of care for clothes or fashion drives my mum nuts. I think I own a couple of dresses, but I couldn’t remember when I last put one on. In reality, they probably didn’t fit anymore, and I couldn’t remember if I threw them out or not.
So throwing caution to the wind, I dressed in my denim shorts and a nice fat girl type T-shirt. The same clothes as I wore every other day. I don’t wear make-up but do wear glasses.
With trepidation, I headed to the mall to meet my old beau.
I saw Joe sitting with a bloke, who had the exact same height and build. He was a bit thicker with age, but still in good nick.
He had his back to me. I could see he had the same haircut, short back and sides, and the long dark blond curls on top. I had never actually gotten into blondes, but on Arian and Joe, it looked good.
I ordered a coffee and taking a deep breath went over to the table and got a better look at, ‘the blast from my past’. There are some blokes you meet who just make you wet looking at them. Arian was one of these men.
If anything, he had gotten even better looking with age. I remembered that he was about the same age as me at fifty-three and he wore it well. He looked at least five to ten years younger, and I reckoned that he could still pull the younger chicks without working at it.
Tentatively, I said, “Hi.”
Arian was about two inches shorter than my husband had been as he stood at about five-ten. His body was well proportioned, and he had nice solid legs that I was reacquainted with as he stood.
He looked at me hard and the next thing that I knew, I was folded into a gentle hug. He just stood there and hugged me for a full minute. Finally, he let me go and pulled a chair out for me between him and Joe.
So I sat. I was still a bit shaken up by the greeting. I wasn’t used to being hugged by hunks other than my kids and my husband. The next surprise I found was that my hand was in his, and they were resting on his knee.
He beamed at Joe and then at me. If a guy could make love to you with his smile and his eyes, this one could. I thought the guy had rocks in his head. ‘Shit!’ I wasn’t anything special.
He was bloody gorgeous and could have his pick of any woman in the room. Yet, here he was looking at me with desire and holding my hand as if frightened I would run away. I felt a bit weirded out, and I shook myself.
I rescued my hand as my coffee had come. I put sugar in it and stirred. “You haven’t changed much,” I told him.
He laughed and rubbed his back, “I have, I’m definitely feeling my age these days.”
“So the gigolo work is a bit tougher than you thought, huh?” I tossed at him. I was amazed that I suddenly remembered so much more about my time with him. It was as if the sight of him had rolled back time.
He and Joe laughed. They both have that ‘melt your panties’ laugh. Luckily, I didn’t wear any to melt. I hate knickers crawling up my arse. The conversation that followed was a little surreal.
It was as we were old friends that hadn’t seen each other for a couple of years, rather than the actual thirty years it was. It wasn’t as if we had really dated, either. We’d had for all intent just screwed each other stupid for five weeks. Well, that was mostly how I remembered it.
I asked him if he was still picking up girls from nightclubs, to Joe’s amusement and something for me to say.
He shook his head, “No, us old fogies’ find that shopping malls work better. There is a lot more variety and plenty of cafés to entice a girl into.” Joe and I both laughed at the innuendo.
After about twenty minutes, Joe excused himself, saying that he was meeting with friends and that he would see us later. He then left me with his dad. It wasn’t long before Arian and I were wandering from topic to topic, comparing war stories and just enjoying the conversation and the company.
I found my hand was back in his, and on his knee. I remembered that he liked holding my hand while we talked. It felt nice being the centre of someone’s attention again.
I hadn’t even realised that I’d missed having such a connection to a desirable man.
After about an hour, this blousy, bottle blonde interrupted us.
She put her hand on Arian’s shoulder possessively and rubbed her huge fake boobs on him. “Darling, it has been an age, we must get together soon,” she simpered.
She had to be in her forties but was trying to look half her age. I think she put the make-up on with a trowel. Okay, so I felt catty. I hate fake people and generally avoid them like the plague.
I went to remove my hand from Arian’s, but he gripped my hand tighter and looked pleadingly at me. I looked at the overconfident bitch and then at him. I grinned and leant back to relax into the chair.
Some years after I had met Arian, I’d had a male flatmate for a while, and we had this deal. We would ‘rescue each other’ if we wished to get rid of the unwanted company when we went nightclubbing by pretending to be lovers. It always worked.
“Sweetie, you must introduce your friend,” I said. The blonde finally looked at me but dismissed me as not important.
Arian got in on the act. “My love, this delightful lady is Wanda. She is an old friend of mine,” he stressed the ‘old’ to me with a wink. “Wanda, I’m delighted to introduce you to my fiancée, Kristy,” he finished with a flourish.
I’m not sure who was more shocked, her or me. Thinking quickly, I lifted our hands from under the table and kissed the back of his. I was amused to see him shiver when I did. Wanda stopped slouching on him and looked between us. Like me, she was obviously wondering, ‘What the hell he saw in me,’ too.
She squawked out, “Fiancée? That was quick,” she accused him.
He told me later that it had only been a couple of months since they had split up.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Kirsty is, in fact, an old flame. My son Joe re-introduced us to our delight and wonderment.”
He kissed the back of my hand, which was still in his on the edge of the table in full view. This time, I shivered. Wanda was obviously not impressed. She looked at frumpy little me with disbelief evident in her stance and look.
Arian dismissed her, “It was nice seeing you again Wanda. I wish you well.” He turned his attention back to me and didn’t look at her again. Finally, she got the message and stormed off on the impossibly high heels she almost wore.
I laughed at Arian, while shaking my head. “You are a very bad boy,” I told him, clicking my tongue at him.
“She was a weak moment, a lousy lay and you know I hate fake tits,” he said. I laughed out loud enough that the people at several tables near us, turned to look at us. He waggled his eyebrows at me. “So your place or mine?” he asked.
I shook my head at him. It had been a hell of a lot of years since I had jumped into bed with the first bloke who interested me. “You’re kidding right?” I said with disbelief.
“I’m not even close to her league, and I’ve definitely seen better days. I’m not the girl you remember,” I concluded. I had lost some weight after my husband died but I was still certainly in the cuddly range at size 16.
He looked at me and gave me his lovely smile, “Sweetheart, she is nowhere near your league. I can barely remember ever having been with someone as superficial as she is, and I have been with some very shallow women. She is the sort that gives ‘dumb blondes’ a bad name, and she isn’t even a true one.”
I had to giggle, even if it was mean.
“Come walk with me,” he said.
So we got up and walked down the mall and out the end, which took us to the river bank walk. He put my arm in his, and we strolled along enjoying the warm winter sunshine the town was famous for.
We walked away from the main throng, exchanging stories about our kids and lives in general. After about ten minutes, he stopped us, and he turned to me. He kissed me softly.
It soon changed into a full body hug and an exchange of tongues. I think we were both panting when we came up for breath. Going by what he was pressing into me, the effect wasn’t one-sided.
“Your place or mine?” he whispered onto my lips while his forehead was touching mine. He rubbed against me to tell me he was dinkum. He truly did want me.
It had been over twenty months since I had last been tapped. This bloke most definitely had me wet and willing. I think I’d been that way since I saw him again for the first time.
“I hate to ask but I’ve only been with one man for many years,” I said.
He put his hand in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He withdrew a folded letter and handed it to me. I opened it to find it was a letter from his doctor to ensure immigration he had a clean bill of health and all his inoculations were up to date. I shook my head and looked at him.
“I had to go do a job in Papua New Guinea for a company a couple of weeks ago. I hadn’t taken it out of my wallet yet, nor have I been with anyone since,” he informed me with a grin.
‘What the fuck,’ I thought. It probably wouldn’t last long and while it wasn’t good policy to be screwing one of my apprentice’s dads. I only had Joe in class on Monday, and we were not doing any assessments. He was then moving to another teacher.
So I threw caution to the wind. A bit of relief wasn’t going to go astray. I had a feeling this bloke would still be as good as my memory recalled. Well, I hope so anyway.
Don’t get me wrong, my husband and I had a healthy sex life, and I did still miss him. However, I was after all only human and as anyone would tell you, regular sex to none, takes some getting used to.
“My place. It is its usual bloody mess, but if you’re happy to put up with it, it’s probably better than yours and Joes,” I told him.
He grinned, “Joe brought me here, so it’s your car as well.”
I shook my head at him. “And they reckon women are schemers,” I scolded him.
He laughed and happily tucked me under his arm as we walked back to the car park to get my car. My husband had this bad habit of towing me along when we walked together, with him being a lot taller. However, Arian just adjusted his pace to my shorter legs.
It was really nice.
We finally got to my place.
I probably should have sold it. I didn’t in truth need a four bedroom house anymore, unless the kids came home. However, I had always loved my house. My husband had left me enough that I could retire comfortably any day I wished. I didn’t owe anyone anything, so I was happy to keep the house a bit longer.
I was still working because it made me get out of the house. I had taken a couple of months off after I lost my hubby, but I went back to work for my sanity. I did reduce my working week to three days, and I am happy doing this as I had started writing in my spare time.
I still had my laptop open on the kitchen table, at my latest story. Thinking I needed to clear a space, I decided I would move it after I had started making the cup of tea that I had offered Arian. Arian for his part happily walked around the downstairs section of my house checking it out.
I excused myself to go to the loo and came back to find him scrolling through the last chapter. I laughed when he fixed a spelling error and kept reading, so I went back to making the tea. Finally, I sat down with him.
He sat back, “Shit, girl, I’ve never been inclined to play for the other team, but that was pretty hot.”
He had been reading a chapter where I had two blokes and a girl getting it on. I laughed, “Was it realistic enough?”
“I felt like a voyeur in the room with them. Shit! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have read it without your permission.”
I smiled at him. “It does need some editing,” I said.
His eyes lit up, “Can I?”
I looked at him surprised, “You want to edit it for me?”
“Sure I love a good Sci-fi,” he told me.
I looked over at my little video collection that took up a length of the side wall and from floor to ceiling. He got up and went over to look. He looked back at me and grinned, “So, when are we getting married?”
I had to laugh. “I haven’t even tried out the goods,” I said jokingly.
He gave me a lecherous grin, “I can soon sort that little problem out.”
He came back to me and locked his lips over mine. I soon had a hand up my shirt and on my bra. He felt the front clips and popped them open freeing the girls. Cupping a full tit in his hand, he rubbed his thumb over my very erect nipple as he gently squeezed me.
He lifted his lips off mine, and I looked up at him still a little dazed at the awesome kiss. He said, “There is nothing fake about these puppies, I like your tits.”
He pulled up the shirt and then pulled it over my head and stepped back to look at my tits. He knelt down beside me and sucked a nipple into his mouth. He removed my bra with the other and then went back to massaging the other tit.
I groaned as the nerve that connects women’s tits to their cunnie pulsed within me. I had to slide my fingers into his curls to hold his head to me as I shivered. He swapped between my tits for another minute and then pulled away from me and directed me to my feet.
He dropped my shorts, I think he was a little shocked to find no knickers, but it didn’t slow him down. He turned me and lifted me with little trouble, so I was sitting on the table. He pulled the two chairs up, either side of himself so I could put my feet on them. Then he went back to sucking and licking my tits.
I rubbed his crotch, and he got the message. He pushed his shorts down for me. I got his shirt off as well, and we went back to exploring. Damn, his cock was bigger than I remembered. I certainly had more than a handful.
I rubbed my thumb over his circumcised head and spread the pre-cum around. He went back to my tits and then started rubbing a finger over my wet cunnie lips as I happily slid my hand up and down his lovely long thick cock.
I groaned and shivered as he slid two long fingers into me and ran his teeth over my nipple. My hips flexed forward, my cunnie muscles clamped down, and I squeezed his cock hard in response. I felt it flex in my hand and it seemed to stiffen even more.
He lifted his mouth to mine and kissed me hard as he jammed his wet fingers in and out of me causing my hips to flex each time. “I want you, Kristy,” he told me.
“I’m not exactly stopping you here,” I gasped back as he thrust his insistent fingers into me again and again, as he kissed me deeply.
He removed his fingers when I was moaning loud and lined up his cock. He pushed forward and let his cock find the way. I don’t know if it was the position, his size or the fact I was a bit out of practice or all of the above, but he had to inch into me.
I loved every thrust as he worked his way in deeper. I felt myself stretch to accommodate him and as wet as I was, he still moved in long slow strokes to get himself covered in my juices so he could move more freely.
After several minutes of the torturous slow strokes, I was ready to grab his arse and get him moving. I was so bloody ramped up. Finally, he started to speed up. My hips were rocking into him on each thrust in, and I’d tighten my cunnie muscles as he hit my cervix.
It was so good to feel a cock in me, and he sure filled me up nicely. He grabbed my hips and started short but fast flexes of his hips. I had been leaning back on the table on my arms when I felt myself come.
I stiffened and groaned out a ‘fuck me’ and clamped him hard then my cunnie muscles started shaking and pulsing up and down his still pumping cock. I flexed and clamped a few more times, as I do when I have mind-blowing sex.
Then I went rigid again as I felt him blow into me. My muscles pulsed around him again and my hips shook involuntarily like they do when I come hard. He had groaned out loud when he first blew.
He grunted on each flex as he filled me with hot cum. He slowed down a little on the pumping as I shook on him. But kept sliding in and out and flexing his cock as he hit bottom, making me shake and gasp some more.
Finally, he held still to let me come down and hugged me into his body as I got my breath and body back under some control.
I leant back on the table again and watched as he slowly pulled out of me as if he was reluctant to leave. I watched as his tight balls relaxed back down into their sack. Even now, he was still impressive, and I couldn’t believe that very yummy cock had just been in me.
He leant on the table looking at me and said, “Fuck woman. I can’t believe I had to wait thirty bloody years to feel you come on me again.” Then he kissed me deep and hard.
When he let me up for breath, I smiled at him but wasn’t sure what to say. So I directed him to the bathroom to get us a towel. I was still coming down with the occasional involuntary shiver.
He laughed softly and proceeded to wipe me, making me shiver again. “You know that was one of the things I missed most when you walked away,” he said.
I frowned wondering where he was going with this conversation. “Sorry, I don’t understand?”
He kissed me gently and then placing a finger under my chin, he lifted my head, so my eyes were level with his. “You coming on me,” he said with a sigh.
I looked at him confused. “You have no bloody idea the effect you have on a bloke do you, surely your husband told you how amazing a lover you are?”
I shrugged, “To my knowledge, he never screwed anyone else to compare me to. He was a virgin when we met, and I was older. I suppose he just thought I was normal. Surely other women react similarly to good sex as I do. I’m sure I have read plenty of stories when they do.”
“True, I have has some close encounters, but I still consider you the best. I was wondering if maybe all those years ago, I had set an imaginary bar that I expected other women to reach because of how I felt about you.”
He kissed me again softly and concluded, “But you just blew my mind. I don’t think I’m going to be able to let you walk away again. Not without a fight girl.” He warned me.
I was a little stunned to find I’d had such an effect on him all those years ago. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean for you to get hurt when I left.”
He smiled sadly at me, “Sweetheart, you made no bones at the time about us ever having anything permanent. I was a good time, while you were in Brisbane and that was all. You were not staying, you had a mission to complete, and according to Joe you did it in spades.”
He kissed me again. “I just wish that I had found you again sooner,” he told me.
Again, I was speechless. I didn’t have too many regrets in my life, and I didn’t think that I’d have done things much differently. I shrugged, “I am a big believer in fate,” I told him. “Things happen for a reason, in their own time, maybe our time wasn’t then.”
He nodded and then removed the towel from between my legs. He pulled my butt forward so he could rub his very erect cock against my cunnie. I put my arms around his neck and giggled, “Trying to make up for lost time are you?”
“Bloody oath I am,” he said.
I kissed him this time before saying, “I do have somewhere a bit more comfortable if you wish.”
He stepped back and helped me off the table. “Lead the way, I will follow,” he told me, so I did.
The man was insatiable. We old girls’ don’t last as long as we did in our youth, not to mention that I was simply not used to the workout he gave me.
I ended up crashing for a couple of hours.
I noticed he wasn’t beside me when I woke.
I wondered if he was still in the house. I got up, had a shower and put on one of my comfortable cotton nighties, which I live in when at home alone. I came downstairs to find him reading on my laptop.
I looked at the document and realised he had found the one that precedes the one, I had been working on, and that was, in fact, the start of the story. “Any good?” I asked as I came near him. He was still gloriously naked.
He spun the wheelie chair around so I could see the rod between his legs. I laughed and looked at what he had been reading. ‘Yep, that was what probably did it,’ I thought.
I must have got to close, because the next thing I knew, I had a mouth trying to chew on my nipple through the nightie. His hand was up under the nightie scratching an itch I didn’t know I had.
He slipped the thin strap off my shoulder to free one of my tits and latched on properly. Sucking and licking as his fingers worked me over. I grabbed his shoulder with one hand and his cock with the other and started jacking him as he did me.
I lifted a leg onto the side of the chair to give him better access. He pulled my mouth down to his, and he pumped into me harder, as I jacked him. I was soon shaking on his hand and groaning into his mouth.
So he went back to my tit and sucked hard as I came on him. He let me come down a little, giving me soft kisses and rubbing my back. Then he moved me, so I was leaning over the table and slipped in from behind.
I was a bit more used to his size and having already come he had little trouble filling me this time. He soon had his balls slapping my clit as the head of his cock tried to peek inside my womb.
Crap, he felt even better every time he fucked me. I was learning to read his noises and body actions and automatically reacting to them. It was many minutes later, after I started quivering and squeezing him with my cunnie muscles, that I felt his cock flex as he slammed into me and then grunted out his release.
He wasn’t alone as I was busy shaking all over that delicious cock. He slow pumped me as I came down and I groaned several times, as he re-entered and I shivered as he did. Slowly he pulled out and grabbed the towel we had used earlier.
“Damn that was intense, fucking the author and finding her actions even better than her words,” he told me.
I laughed at him and slipped my nightie back on properly. “Well, at least I’m getting some new material to work with.”
That cracked him up. “Oh, shit! I’m going to end up between those pages aren’t I?”
“Well, at least between sheets of some sort,” I said, and I grinned at him.
He laughed. “Then I had better work on my resume’,” he said.
“Food,” I said.
I opened the fridge and found some veggies
I held each of them up. “Yay or nay,” I asked.
He said he ate them all. So I rustled some steak out of the freezer and defrosted it in the nuker, as I prepared the veggies and put the steamer on. I soon had the veggies in the steamer and the steaks in the grill-press.
“I really need a smoke,” I told him. “Do you object to me smoking inside or would you prefer I went out?”
“It’s your house,” he told me.
“Look,” I said. “If you are going to spend time with me, it’s something we need to sort out from the start. I tend to chain smoke a bit when I write, but I can take it outside and live with it if it bothers you.”
“I will not tolerate, being nagged about it. It’s my choice, and I know the consequences. If I choose to give it back up in the future, I’ll let you know. But I know it bothered the shit out of my husband, and I know you don’t smoke either.”
Arian looked at me, he was very thoughtful. “I’ve lived with smokers before, I can tolerate it but will be honest I would prefer if you kept it to a minimum around me and I will not nag you about. Go have your fag.”
“You read. I’ll go have my smoke,” I said and then headed out onto the patio. I had settled in, and I was on about my fourth drag when he stepped out of the door. He had slipped his shorts back on.
“Your husband tended to nag you about it a lot, huh?”
“He had the best intentions, he told me he wanted to grow old with me.” I stopped, then continued wistfully, “But if wishes were fishes.”
Arian nodded in understanding. He came over to me and kissed me smoke breath and all. “I understand his sentiment. It has taken me thirty years to find you again, and like him, I too would hate to lose you now I have you. But I respect your right to smoke and will not nag you about it, okay?”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I replied. He headed back inside, and I finished my smoke, thoughtfully.
I finished getting dinner on the table. It was a bit early as it had just hit six o’clock, but I was hungry. “Sorry it’s sad fair, I get pretty slack living on my own,” I said as I sat down with him.
I’d put him on the laptop side of the table, so he only had to slide the chair across to eat. He happily dug in. “I didn’t realise I was so hungry. Thank you, it was perfect,” he said when he sat back with the empty plate in front of him and patted his gorgeous flat stomach.
Damn, the man still had six-pack abs for shit sake. I smiled, “Well we did kind of miss lunch.”
“Lunch? Hum, no, I distinctly remember lunch,” he said with a big grin.
“Funny man, for that you get to stack the dishwasher,” I told him.
“Yes ma’am,” he agreed and did exactly that. I showed him where the detergent tablets for it were and put the leftovers and other condiments away. He wiped down the bench, and before I knew it, the kitchen was clean.
“So what are your plans for the rest of the evening?” he asked.
“Well, normally I write,” I informed him.
“No telly?” he queried.
“Shit, I don’t even know if it still turns on,” I told him honestly.
“Well I can think of another way to entertain you,” he said wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I laughed. “If he does much more entertaining, I’ll have blisters, and he will be skinless.”
He laughed in return. “I will have to admit he has had more of a workout today than he has had in years.”
“What about the bimbo,” I mentioned.
“Wanda!” he scoffed. “The bloody woman thought she was doing me a favour. Personally, I’ve enjoyed the five sisters more. One of my friends mentioned to her that I would make a good Sugar Daddy.”
“She latched onto me at a party about six months ago, and in a weak moment I gave in. I put up with her for about two months until she started hinting she should move in.” He shuddered, and I giggled. “So I soon disillusioned her to that idea and have tried avoiding her ever since,” he concluded.
I raised my eyebrows at him, “Sugar Daddy, huh!”
“You are not getting rid of me that easy,” he said. “I already know you own this place and your hubby left you covered because you told me.”
“Damn! Me and my big mouth,” I said, and we both laughed.
Just then, his phone rang. I indicated he should take it. I heard him say, “Shit.” He looked at his watch, then at me. “Hum, any chance you’d like to go to a party, it’s my mates fiftieth birthday. I forgot I was supposed to go, sorry.”
He looked at me pleadingly, and I guessed that he wanted me to go with him. I’d already decided I wasn’t going to get much writing done tonight so I agreed.
“Hey, Tommo, we will be about an hour or so at least. Don’t worry about food for us as we just ate, see ya soon, mate,” he replied before he closed the phone.
“Come on then,” I said. “You had better help me find something to wear.”
He accompanied me upstairs.
I dropped the nightie and started the shower.
Since I’d dropped several dress sizes, I had gotten the shits at nothing fitting and tossed a lot of my old stuff out. The problem was that I hadn’t really replaced much as I didn’t go anywhere except work or the shops.
Arian took one look at my wardrobe came over to me, he hefted a titty and rubbed my cunnie. “Yep, you are definitely a female on the outside,” he said.
I looked at him, and he pointed to my wardrobe. “Sweetheart, I have more clothes in mine,” he said.
I looked at the sad choices of my clothing selection and shrugged. “I lost a lot of weight after Mike died and I don’t go out a lot.”
He spied a dark blue and silver diagonally striped shirt with lace as inserts and for the back. It was ancient but for some reason, I never could through it out. “Does this fit?” he asked.
I shrugged and dropped it off the hanger, and I slid it on. It was a touch snug as my tits are bigger than when I bought it, and my nipples were poking through the thin material. The point in front just covered my cunnie, and the curved lace at the back just sat over my arse crack.
“Damn girl, that’s hot,” he said, as he walked around me.
“Not a hope in hell boyo, there will be a bra and long black pants,” I said as he now was busy fingering my cunnie under the front of the blouse and rubbed a nipple with the other hand.
He nuzzled me and said, “Only if you promise to model it again later.”
“Only if you’re good,” I said as I untangled myself from his fingers and the blouse. I handed it back to him and got in the shower. I had let my hair grow over the last couple of years, and it was annoying. “I really need a haircut,” I told him.
He was standing outside the shower leaning against the cupboard happily watching me. “We’ll do it tomorrow,” he said.