Chapter 6

The sound of a diesel engine filtered through my consciousness, and I opened my eyes. The dim light of early morning worked its way past the blinds, casting shadows across the bed. I turned my head to find Sharon still asleep. She lay on her back with her face toward me, her right arm at her side, and her left arm over her head. The sheet had slipped down her chest, baring her left breast. I decided that having her in bed with me certainly beat waking up alone.

The engine, probably the monster motor home I’d seen last night, rumbled by us on their way out, and Sharon stirred and opened her eyes. “Good morning.”

I rolled to face her. “Good morning.” I smiled a little, and I was torn between the desire to kiss her, and the fear of what she might do if I tried.

She solved my dilemma by rolling toward me and planting a quick kiss on my lips. “Brush teeth and go potty first,” she said with a closed-mouthed smile, and she scooted out of bed. She padded to the bathroom, still dressed only in her panties.

I rose up on my hands and knees to arrange the covers in a semi-neat state, and clambered to the floor. Sharon reappeared, and fished out her toothbrush. “You next.”

I went to the bathroom, and stepped out to take my turn at the sink. When I was done, I turned to face her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She stepped up to me, put her arms around neck, and kissed me softly. She leaned against my bare chest, and I instantly went hard as her breasts and belly pressed against my torso. I wrapped my arms around her, reveling in the feeling of holding a woman who was so close to my own height.

After a moment, she stepped back a bit, and I reached up with both hands to caress her hair. It was thick and soft, and I ran my fingers through it, careful to not tug on any tangles, and she closed her eyes at my touch. “Is this okay?”

She opened her eyes, and the desire radiating from them took my breath away. “It is very okay.” She looked down to where my erection was touching the waistband of her panties. “Uh, does that hurt?”

“No, it’s just pressing against my underwear, and that part isn’t comfortable.” I noticed her nipples were standing out from her breasts, and the sight only increased the pressure in my pants.

“Can I see it?”

“Sure,” I reached down, and her hands caught mine.

“May I?”

“Yes.” My heart was pounding, and I flinched a little as Sharon slipped her fingers into my waistband.

She pulled the garment outward, and then down, working it over my rigid penis. A drop of clear fluid appeared at the tip, and she tugged my underwear down my thighs. “I want to touch you, Thomas.”

“Okay,” I managed through the thundering pulse in my ears. I resolved to let her control the situation; there was a time to take charge, and this wasn’t it. My love for Sharon, newly formed as it was, held my desire for her firmly in check. Maybe I was a fool, and maybe she would turn out to be something less than I thought of her in that moment. Until then, I had time to wait for her.

I inhaled sharply as she tentatively grasped my shaft in her hand. I kept my own hands on her shoulders as she explored me with first one hand, and then the other. She ran her fingers over the head, and down underneath the crown. My prick jumped at the stimulation, and she looked up at me. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, but keep that up and I’ll make a mess.” My voice quavered as I fought for control.

“Sit on the bed. I want to see.”

I did as she commanded, stepping out of my briefs on the way. I sat down, and she knelt down in front of me. I leaned back a little, and opened my legs to give her access to my groin.

“This is different. I’ve seen a lot of naked men on the beach, and, of course, lots of movies and pictures.” She smiled up at me. “Europeans are not prudish.”

“I hope I’m meeting your expectations.”

“I don’t have anything to compare by,” she said as she placed both palms on the sides of my shaft. I was leaking fluid in a thin stream, and she rubbed it around the crown with her thumbs.

“I’m going to come,” I said breathlessly. Her touch was shooting sparks though my nervous system and my hips began to jerk in time with her movements.

“What...”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, where there was still some cognitive ability functioning, I reflected that I was acting like a teenager. In my own defense, it had been years since a woman had touched me, and I wasn’t into habitual masturbation. So, it had been a while, and my body made up for it.

Sharon squeaked as my prick swelled in her hands, shot two jets of warm semen up her right forearm, and four weaker pulses that coated both her hands in sticky white liquid. She kept up the stimulation as she stared raptly at the result.

I pulled away with a groan as the stimulation became too much. “I’m sorry,” I panted. “It’s, uh, been a while.” My whole body quivered from the massive release, and my mind spun at the fact that Sharon had just jerked me off.

Sharon leaned back on her heels and looked at her hands. “That was amazing, Thomas.” To my great surprise, she wasn’t at all put off by my semen. “How often can you do that?”

“If I do that again anytime soon, I may not survive it.” I took another breath while my brain fought for some semblance of rational thought.

“Really? I’ve seen this in movies, but it looked nasty there, especially when the girl lets him do it in her mouth.” She sniffed at it and shrugged. “It’s not nearly as bad as I thought.”

That pronouncement was almost enough to guarantee her a repeat performance.

She stood and washed my semen off her hands and arm at the sink. Then, she turned to the cabinet, picked up a washcloth, and held it under the faucet. She wrung out the excess water, and knelt in front of me. Taking my now deflated member in hand, she gently cleaned me. “Now, this I’ve done, but not on one nearly this big.”

I leaned back on my elbows, and marveled at the sight of Sharon kneeling between my legs, performing such an intimate task for me. The words flowed out of me before I could even think about them. “I love you, Sharon.”

She stood, set the washcloth aside, and crawled up next to me on the bed. She leaned in for a kiss, and then pulled back to look at me. “I do love you, Thomas. I still need a little time, okay?” She smiled and held my gaze until I nodded. “Thank you.” She backed away and stood up. “I’m hungry.”

I laughed and got up from the bed. “Me, too.”

A half hour later, we pulled into a convenience store and café that seemed to be popular, given the number of vehicles out front. I parked off to one side, and we climbed down and walked into the restaurant.

Sharon and I had dressed without the grab-ass games I’d played with my late wife. I’d wanted to take Sharon into my arms again, but I was determined to let her set the pace. She smiled as I held the door for her. “Thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome, babe.” The word rolled naturally off my lips, and my spirits lifted as I savored the change in our relationship.

The restaurant was busy, and I noticed that a fair number of the patrons were from at least three motorcycle clubs. Looking out to the far side of the building, I noticed an eclectic mix of American and foreign bikes parked in a large group. Most of the riders wore leathers, and many of them had vests with their colors displayed on them. The groups mingled and chatted amicably, and I quickly determined that they weren’t part of the one-percenters. These were ordinary people who liked to ride motorcycles, and presented no threat to us, or to anyone else.