Wrapped only in an oversized bath towel, her body still damp from the shower, Emily Byrnes stared at her reflection in the dressing table’s large mirror. The small clock to her left read eleven forty-five, reminding her that her guest would be arriving in little over an hour.
“I still can’t believe I let Sandra talk me into this,” Emily said to herself for perhaps the tenth time.
The truth was, the forty-six-year-old really hadn’t needed much convincing, even if she didn’t want to admit that to herself. Her thoughts again drifted to the events of a day past when she and Sandra were finishing up the workday at the Food King Market. It wasn’t the greatest of jobs, Emily knew, but after the death of her husband she had to do something to supplement the provisions he’d left her. And it wasn’t like she was qualified to do much else.
Emily had married Mark Byrnes right out of high school; in fact the wedding had taken place only a month after graduation. That was the sort of thing that happened when the bride-to-be was already three months pregnant. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Mark, or him her, it was just that things would’ve been a lot easier if they hadn’t put the cart before the horse. Still they made the best of it, welcoming first John and then a sister they named Johanna two years later.
They did a pretty good job over the next twenty-five years, seeing both kids through college, marriage and in John’s case a family of his own. Then, just as they looked to start a new life with just each other, Mark had gotten ill. Cancer the doctors had said, a nasty malignant strain that wasted no time in taking him from her. That was three years ago, and it was only in the last of those that Emily had started to live again. A good part of which she owed to the constant help of Sandra Wilkins, who had been always been there from best friend in high school, maid of honor, even if the traditional definition of maid could hardly have been further from the truth in her case, and now co-worker.
They had only another hour and a half left to their shift when Sandra suddenly went to Russell Pike, the store manager, and asked if it was alright if she left a little early as she wasn’t feeling well. It was a slow afternoon and Russell reluctantly said it was okay, but then Sandra put him on the spot when she asked if Emily could leave early as well since it had been her turn to drive.
Russell could hardly afford to have both of his cashiers leave and was quite relieved when Scott Winters, one of the stock clerks said he would be happy to drop Sandra off if he could leave now too. With little shopping being done on the rainy afternoon, Russell could easily do without one of the three clerks and said yes.
As the two of them punched out for the day and headed for Scott’s car, Emily wondered if Russell would be as considerate to any of the other cashiers who hadn’t given him a blow job at the store’s Christmas party last year. Sandra, who was twice divorced, had shared that little tidbit with her friend one night when they were sharing dinner and a bottle of wine. Russell had been in his cups that night and had confessed that his wife considered the act repugnant and wouldn’t even discuss the idea in their twenty-nine years of marriage. Sandra, who hardly needed a few drinks to lower her inhibitions, was quite willing to make up for her reluctance. All in the giving spirit of the season of course. Since then, Russell had dropped more than a few hints to Sandra that he’d like to see that celebration repeated, but so far the interest hadn’t been mutual. Still, that hadn’t prevented her from taking advantage of his desire as much as she could.
Two hours later, after finishing her full shift, Emily decided to swing around Sandra’s house to check on her. Just on the off chance that she really had been feeling ill. After parking her car in front, the short haired brunette became concerned when there was no response to the doorbell. Sandra’s car was still in the driveway so Emily felt quite justified in using her emergency key to let herself in.
It took less than a minute to ascertain that kitchen and living room that took up all of the first floor were empty and Emily quickly headed up the stairs to Sandra’s bedroom. Hopefully, she thought, she would just find her friend taking a nap.
Sandra’s bedroom, however, turned out to be empty, the bed still immaculately made. Emily’s concern became greater as she stepped back out into the hall and she was about to try her friend’s cell phone when a loud bang from the second room on the upper level startled her.
Originally husband number two’s workroom, Sandra now used it mainly for storage. Hesitantly, Emily opened the door and looked inside. It didn’t take more than a second for her to wish she’d just gone straight home.
In the center of the near empty room was one of those blow up mattresses, the kind you keep for unexpected guests. Spread out on the plain sheet that had been tossed over the mattress was a naked, and obviously quite healthy, Sandra. As least Emily assumed she was feeling much better, unless having a boy over twenty five years your junior ramming his cock in and out of your pussy was some new kind of medicinal remedy that had somehow escaped her notice.
Scott Winters had only graduated high school the previous June and couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen at most. Emily knew her friend had a quite involved sex life, but this seemed excessive even for her. Had this all been planned before they left the store, or had Sandra sprung it on him after he drove her home?
Whichever was the answer, it didn’t seem to matter as Scott loudly announced his impending climax and Sandra quickly slipped out from under him and, grabbing his cock with her hand, slid her mouth around it. It didn’t take more than a few pumping motions of her hand to catch up where she’d left off when she pushed him out of her. A loud moan spilled from Scott’s lips as he exploded into her mouth. An explosion of such force that the long haired blonde couldn’t contain it all and a stream of white ran down her chin.
It was only after she had completely drained him dry and let his now soft cock fall free that Sandra seemed to notice that they had an audience. Scott seemed genuinely embarrassed and scrambled to pick up his clothes, covering himself as best he could as he rushed past Emily into the hallway beyond. Sandra, on the other hand, seemed quite cool and collected, even pausing to call out to Scott to make sure he got dressed again before going out into the street.
The sound of the side door slamming only a few seconds later seemed to say that Scott had only partially taken her advice. Emily had already put the teenager out of her concern, focusing all of her attention on her friend, who still had made no attempt to cover herself up.
“What?” Sandra asked in an almost mock innocence as she finally walked over to a closet and took out a small robe.
“I have to ask?” Emily said.
“What’s the big deal?” Sandra countered. “It’s not like I played Mrs. Robinson and seduced him.” She paused a long moment then added, “Well at least not this time anyway.”
“This time?” Emily repeated. “How many times has this happened?”
“With Scott or with young men in general?” came Sandra’s reply, accented by a wicked smile.
“There have been others?” Emily went on, almost afraid to ask how many that entailed.
Sandra, on the other hand, had no such reservations.
“Well, it’s not like I keep notches on my bedpost,” her friend explained, “but if I had to take a quick guess, I’d say there have been a dozen or so. Of course that’s going back a few years.” she added as if that made it more acceptable.
“I think I need a drink,” was all Emily could say.
Sandra, still the epitome of calm, thought that an excellent idea and the two of them moved to the kitchen where she removed a bottom of scotch she kept in the cabinet for emergencies. It took two shots before Emily was calmed down enough to listen to what Sandra had to say.
“I don’t know what the big deal is,” Sandra said after having done most of the talking for the last few minutes. “It’s not like any of them were underage or anything like that.”
“But still, Sandra...” Emily started to say, but was cut off.
“But Sandra what?” the blonde said. “You go to any newsstand and pick up a movie magazine, you’ll find any number of stories about older women and young guys. What makes them different from me?”
That question was one Emily didn’t really have an answer for.
“I don’t know, but it just seems wrong,” she finally said.
“Why, because I’m just fucking them?” Sandra replied.
“Remember last week when we were watching the awards show,” Sandra countered, “and we saw Brooke Hudson on the red carpet.”
“You remember the young guy she was with, the one that didn’t look like he was more than twenty-one at best.”
Emily nodded again.
“Well if you also remember, we also saw her on that other award show last month,” Sandra went on, “and she also had a guy on her arms that was young enough to be her son. A different guy. Do you think she’s not fucking both of them?”
Emily was about to say but that was Hollywood, but paused as she decided that wasn’t a good enough reason.
Sandra took advantage of Emily’s pause and went on in quite some detail of the advantages of young lovers. How, after being married twice, she really wasn’t interested in a long term relationship and if she was just in it for the sex, then she might as well make the most of it.
“I’m just having some fun that’s all,” Sandra smiled, “and believe me, no one is getting hurt. If anything, the boys I’ve been with have gotten a priceless education.”
“Is that why they go with you?” Emily asked.
Sandra’s smile expanded just enough to be noticed. She knew Emily’s shock had begun to wear off and curiosity was taking over.
“That’s one of the reasons,” Sandra said. “After all, they are getting the benefits of thirty years experience, something none of the teenage girls they might entice into bed is ever going to be able to share, no matter how willing. But more importantly, I think most of them like to be with me because unlike those girls, I’m not playing mind games with their heads. If they want to fuck, we fuck. If they want me to suck their cocks, I do it. There are no silly games about reputations and the little lie that I’m not that kind of girl.”
“I guess that does make some sort of sense,” Emily admitted, surprising herself with her admission.
“You know I once read a book that said in some cultures, it was the most natural thing in the world for a young man to be enlightened in the arts of lovemaking by an older woman,” Sandra said. “It’s only in our own sexually repressive society that we screw things up.”
“I don’t believe that,” Emily replied.
“That things might be better if that was the norm?” Sandra asked.
“No, that you actually read a book,” Emily answered.
Both women laughed and Sandra knew that she wasn’t going to have a problem about this with her oldest friend.
“What is it like?” Emily asked once they stopped laughing.
“Well, it’s fun obviously,” Sandra said after thinking about the question a few seconds, “they’re all so eager and willing to please. Their bodies are all so perfect, so young, soft, except of course for their cocks which are always hard.”
“Sounds nice,” Emily said with a sigh, thinking that it had been over three years since she’d been with her late husband.
“Oh it is,” Sandra assured her. “It’s not like we were young and originally with boys their age. Now you have all that experience and they just want to take it all in.”
“Well some of us have all that experience,” Emily noted.
“Don’t sell your self short, girlfriend,” Sandra said. “Even if all your experience was with just Mark, I doubt that, after twenty-five years together, that you didn’t learn a few tricks.”
Emily smiled. Monogamous they might have been, but the intensity of their sex lives had changed little since they were teenagers, right up to the time Mark fell ill.
“Well you make it all sound like a grand adventure,” Emily said, pushing the sad memory to the back of her mind.
“It is,” Sandra laughed. “In fact, I was just thinking. Maybe you should give it a try.”
“What?” Emily said in surprise.
“Why not?” Sandra asked, the unexpected suggestion seeming more right to her by the moment. “I think you’d love it.”
“Sandra, I’m not the kind of woman who could do a thing like that,” Emily answered.
“You mean a woman like me?” Sandra countered.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Emily said. “I just mean that...”
“That what?” Sandra interrupted. “That you don’t get horny anymore? You know that I’m not going to believe that, not when I was the one who helped you pick out a vibrator last year.”
Emily’s face blushed that the reminder. She had read an article in a woman’s magazine about them and decided that it might help ease her lonely nights. Not knowing the first thing about buying one, she had turned to Sandra who proved a virtual encyclopedia of knowledge on the subject.
“Okay, I’ll admit that,” Emily said, “but that doesn’t mean someone like Scott is the answer.”
“No, definitely not Scott,” Sandra chuckled. “I think he’d be a little more than you could handle. You’d need someone a little further down on the aggressive scale, someone who goes at a slower pace. Someone like...”
Sandra paused and her face lit out as it the proverbial light bulb had suddenly appeared over her head.
“I know the perfect guy for you,” Sandra beamed. “He’s cute, just eighteen and he doesn’t have a lot of experience. In fact I think he might even still be a virgin, if you can believe that in today’s day and age.”
The blonde paused again, taking the look on her friend’s face as thinking her last statement unlikely if the boy had been with her.
“Oh I just gave him a little blow job for his birthday,” Sandra explained. “He’s the grandson of the man who owns the dry cleaners I take my clothes to. I think he’d be the perfect choice for you.”
“You’re acting like I’m going to do this,” Emily said, her words saying that Sandra had read her expression wrong.
“Why not?” Sandra replied. “I think it will do you a world of good.”
Emily looked unconvinced but once she’d made up her mind, Sandra wasn’t easily deterred.
“How many men have asked you out in the last year?” Sandra asked, changing her approach.
“Two or three,” Emily answered, wondering where this was going.
“And of those, how many did you actually go out with?” Sandra went on, and then answered for herself. “None.”
“None of them really interested me,” Emily said in her defense.
“Because none of them were Mark,” Sandra said, “and none of them were going to bring back what the two of you had together. Emily, I’ve been your friend since we were both virgins, and that was a very long time ago, so I can say this to you. If you just went out with one of those guys and got your chimes rung, then I’d have been overjoyed. But instead you lock yourself away and deny yourself what your body is crying out for. Have yourself a little fun, with something that doesn’t run on batteries. It doesn’t have to be with someone younger, I just thought that might make it exciting enough for you to want to try. But do something.”
A long silence filled the air as Emily stared down at the empty shot glass in her hand. She didn’t remember emptying it, or how many times it had been refilled. The things that Sandra had said weren’t all that different from a similar lecture she’d gotten from her daughter only a few weeks before. Although bedding down with an eighteen year old hadn’t been part of her sermon.
“You said he’s really cute,” Emily said in a low voice.
“Absolutely fuckin’ adorable,” Sandra exclaimed, a feeling of triumph in her tone.
“How would I...”
“You leave everything to me,” Sandra quickly said. “You just be ready tomorrow at one o’clock and I’ll have him at your door wrapped in a bright blue bow.”
“What am I doing?” Emily asked herself as she again filled the small glass in front of her.
That was a question she was still asking the next day as the clock neared noon. Now, however, she didn’t have the relaxing effects of the bottle she and Sandra had nearly put away to help defer the answer.
Looking directly at her reflection in the mirror, Emily loosened the towel around her, letting it fall to the floor. Carefully she studied the body now looking back at her. The years had been kind to her, that much she had to admit. Still, she was hardly in the same kind of shape as the women in those magazines Sandra had mentioned. Or even in the same league as Sandra herself, who spend at least three nights working out down at the local community center.
“My breasts sag too much,” Emily thought, being much harder on herself than a neutral observer might’ve been, “and I definitely could lose more than a few pounds.”
Standing up, her lower reflection filled the mirror and the large amount of gray between her legs more accurately showed her age than the chemically assisted hair on her head. Extra pounds on her thighs also drew her attention, again being blown way out of proportion.
“That’s it, I can’t do this,” she finally decided. “I’m going to call Sandra right now and have her call the whole things off.”
She reached for the phone and had just picked up the receiver when the sound of the front doorbell filled the house. At first she mistook the sound for the clock chiming the hour, but on the second and third ring it was unmistakable.
Grabbing the bathrobe off her bed to wrap around herself, Emily glanced out the window and saw a UPS truck parked across the street. She had been expecting a delivery from John out in California and although it wasn’t supposed to come until Monday, it wouldn’t be the first time one had showed up early. The call to Sandra could wait a few minutes because John always sent his packages signature required and if she didn’t answer the door, they would take it back to the depot.
Making sure her robe was tight around her, Emily opened the door and was greeted with an unexpected surprise. Instead of the brown suited deliveryman was a sandy haired teenager only a few inches taller than her own five foot two. Dressed in denim shorts and a t-shirt bearing the logo of the local school’s baseball team, the boy looked to be no more than thirteen or fourteen.
It was only after glancing over his shoulder to see the deliveryman standing on the front porch of one of her neighbors that Emily turned her attention back to the young man. The t-shirt made her think that he might be seeing raffle tickets to help the school teams, this was usually the time of year they went around with such things.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“Are you Mrs. Bynes?” the boy asked.
“Yes I am,” Emily answered automatically, a little surprised that he knew her name.
“I’m Kevin Finnigan,” he said as if the name was supposed to mean something to her.
Emily sort of shrugged, wondering what he wanted if not to sell team tickets.
“Mrs. Wilkins said you’d be expecting me,” he finally added, a strong hesitation in his voice as if he was no longer sure he was in the right place.
“Omigod,” Emily exclaimed. Not in her wildest imagination had she considered that the teenager in front of her was her one o’clock guest. “You’re an hour early,” she said, that having been the first thought to pop into her head once she realized who he was.
The young man seemed confused by her statement and held any question in check. Instead he watched as Emily stepped out on the porch a little further and looked right and left to see if anyone had seen the two of them standing there.
“Please come in,” she said after satisfying herself that aside from the UPS man now climbing back into his truck, there was no one else out on the street.
Kevin followed her inside, looking around the foyer while she locked the door behind him. Totally at a loss at what to say to him, Emily was granted a brief reprieve as the phone in the living room began to ring.
“Could you excuse me a moment,” she said as she turned to answer the call.
“Hello?” Emily said, having reached the phone on the third ring.
“Hi Emily,” Sandra’s voice said over the receiver. “Has my little package arrived yet?”
“He’s an hour early!” Emily exclaimed, still exhibiting the shock she’d felt out on the porch.
“Well, actually he’s not,” Sandra replied. “I had a feeling you might get a case of cold feet so I told him to show up at noon instead of one. That way you’d have less chance to back out.”
Emily didn’t say what she wanted to say, thinking how well her friend could read her and how she should’ve expected her to pull a dirty trick like that. Instead she commented on how young the boy looked.
“I told you he was cute,” Sandra laughed.
“You didn’t tell me he was jailbait,” she interjected.
“Oh no, I wouldn’t do that to you,” Sandra said, her voice now quite serious. “He’s just one of those people who look a lot younger than they really are. You’re not going to hold that against him are you? Remember Don Carpenter?”
Not even thinking that nodding her head to a question on the phone was rather silly, Emily remembered the name in question from their high school class. Don suffered from what they jokingly referred to as “Dick Clark Syndrome.” Even in his late twenties, he didn’t look old enough to go to an R rated movie by himself.
“Sandra, I don’t think I can do this,” Emily finally said. “In fact I was just about to call you when he showed up.”
“I see,” was all Sandra said.
Then after a very long pause, she asked that Emily bring Kevin to the phone and she would explain the situation to him. Emily replied that wouldn’t be necessary, that since she was the one who caused all this trouble, she would explain it to him.
Sandra concluded with agreeing with whatever Emily thought best. Adding at the end that Emily could tell Kevin that if he wanted, he could come over to her house when he left there and she would make the afternoon up to him.
After hanging up the phone, Emily stood there for a few long moments, considering what she was going to say to him. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice that when she didn’t return right away from her call, Kevin had followed her into the living room.
“It seems there was a little mix-up in what time Sandra was supposed to tell you to be here,” Emily said when she finally noticed him. “I thought you weren’t coming until one.”
“I can go for a walk and come back later,” Kevin quickly offered.
“No, that’s not necessary,” Emily said as she tried to smile. “I just thought I’d be more dressed when you showed up.”
Seeing what the plans for her afternoon were supposed to be, Emily suddenly thought it incongruous to have been concerned how she was supposed to have been dressed come one o’clock.
“Better to get this over with,” Emily thought as she smiled at the young man. “At least he won’t be too disappointed when I tell him about Sandra’s offer.”
But instead of saying the words that had been uppermost in her mind only a few seconds before, Emily found herself asking something completely different.
“Are you really eighteen?” she asked.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Kevin replied. “I know I don’t look that old but I’ll be happy to show you my driver’s license.”
“No, you don’t have to do that,” Emily said, almost having to suppress a laugh as Kevin was already reaching for his wallet.
“Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?” Emily went on. “They might be a little personal.”
“Sure anything you want to ask,” Kevin asked, finding it a little funny that this woman who he was supposed to become intimate with seemed so hesitant about asking personal questions.
“Are you really a virgin?” she asked.
Kevin took a few moments to answer. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed to admit it, it was just that he was considering if the admission was going to help or hinder his chances of correcting the condition.
“You’ve never done anything with a girl?” Emily inquired.
“Oh I’ve dated girls and done some things, but nothing that serious,” Kevin replied, “and of course Mrs. Wilkins...”
“Yes, I already know what Mrs. Wilkins did for you,” Sandra said, wondering why she was having such a hard time getting to the point.
“Do you think I’m attractive?” Emily asked.
“Oh yes,” Kevin instantly answered, but then again what other answer was he going to give.
“As attractive as Mrs. Wilkins?” she added.
“In a different way,” Kevin replied diplomatically.
“Are you nervous?” said Emily as she closed the short distance between the two of them.
“A little,” he admitted.
“Well you know something,” Emily smiled as she stood only a foot away from him, “I’m a little nervous myself. Unlike Mrs. Wilkins, this doesn’t come that easily for me.”
“Oh,” Kevin said, realizing for the first time that the afternoon might not go as he had expected.
“Still,” Emily said as she looked into his youthful face. “Perhaps there’s a way the two of us could help each other become less nervous.”
With that she took his right hand in hers and lifting it upward, slipped in between the folds of her bathrobe. The soft sigh she let out as his hand pressed against her naked breast was echoed by an even larger one from Kevin as he felt the hardness of her nipples against his fingers.
Emily waited a minute or two as he enjoyed the warmth of her flesh, then loosened the belt of her robe and guided his hand downward until it came to rest between her legs. A look of high excitement filled his face.
“Can you feel how wet my pussy is right now?” she asked.
Kevin’s reply was nonverbal but unmistakable.
“Do you realize that you’re the one who made it that way?” She added as she moved even closer to him.
Again words failed Kevin but his understanding was evident.