Chapter 3: Ava has a Girlfriend

It was April the next year, and I was looking forward to my third trip to Scotland. I was counting off the days until I would be with her again.

In the privacy of my bedroom, I stripped off my clothes and got into bed. I stroked my cock as I dialed the long string of numbers that would connect me with Ava.

But it was different this time; instead of sweet sexy talk, we had a more serious conversation.

“I have to tell you something.” She said ominously, “I’ve been seeing someone.”

“By ‘seeing’, you mean...”

“Yes, I’ve been having a wee affair.” She said, with a hint of guilt.

I was crushed; I always knew our relationship was doomed. But my emotions hadn’t changed, I still loved her. I still dreamed of her face, her bright smile, her sweet laugh.

“Is it serious?” I asked, trying to keep the desperation from my voice.

“It’s too early to tell. It’s Gladys, you know, from the inn.”

I somehow felt better; she was having an affair with a woman. No man was polluting her, pushing his penis into her and ejaculating inside her. Gladys was a strong young woman; young compared to Ava at least. She was still a lot older than I was; 40ish I guessed.

“I already bought my ticket.” I said.

“Well, you come along then and we’ll see what happens.” Ava said. “I’ll be happy to see you and have your help over the summer, but I’m not making any promises. You know I love you, I love you to bits. But this sex thing, I’m not sure I can keep that up.”

Now I was 22, halfway through university. Ava was 76, and magically had hardly changed at all, outwardly at least. She kissed me at the airport, as if nothing had changed.

She was thin and delicate, so vulnerable and precious. I still loved her, I was crazy about her. I didn’t want to be, but I couldn’t deny my feelings either. I held her and kissed her mouth, hoping I could win her back. Were we still lovers or not? As before, I was aware of incredulous stares of people who saw an old woman being romantic with a young man. Did the public display still excite her?

“One of us must be exploiting the other, but which?” I laughed as Ava frowned at a group of gawkers.

I kissed her carefully, my cock bulging through my jeans, unsure of our relationship now. She’d told me she was with someone else, so why was she teasing me like this?

The uncertainty was sort of exciting. We might have sex, we might not. I didn’t want to surrender our sexuality, I really wanted to make love with her. But I was happy just being with her, spending time together, helping her load supplies into the car and sharing the day.

We had an agreement, we were non-exclusive. She could go with someone else if she wanted to. So could I. In fact, Ava insisted that if I met a “nice girl”, I must go out with her. But I knew if I did, my affair with the old doctor and her windswept island would probably be over.

During the long drive and 2 ferries to get to the island, we had time to talk.

Ava was the only doctor for the three island group. It was impossible for her to leave for more than a few days, and she could never truly retire; there was no one willing to replace her. Aside from the isolation, there weren’t actually enough patients to make a living. Ava had worked most of her life in Glasgow, and had her retirement money coming in every month.

“So, we should talk about Gladys.” She said as I drove us through the rugged countryside of the Scottish interior.

“Ok.” I said.

“Are you shocked?” she asked. “Me going all lezzy with a married lass?”

“I suppose I am.” I said.

“Well, her and Clive have been having a rough time of it.” She said. “Anyway, now you’re here, and they’ll be busy with the inn with tourist season starting.”

“I never knew you were bisexual.” I said after a while.

“Neither did I to be honest.” She said. “I think it’s a new thing, I was never attracted to woman before. Oh, I tried it all back in the day, in the 60’s we did all sorts, but it was just for the laugh, experimentation you know, threesomes and that sort of thing. So I did try it, and at the time it didn’t do anything for me. So I’m shocked at myself as well. Are you jealous?”

“Of course I am.” I said, “But I’ll survive. Are you going to tell me how it happened?”

She was silent for a couple of minutes; the car sped along the smooth mainland road towards the ferry port. Then she spoke.

“Gladys had a big fight with Clive; happens all the time you know. She came to the cottage and we had a cuppa and a good talk. It got late, we shared a bottle of wine. I told her she’d better stay over and drive back in the morning. There was a storm, quite a hard blow. The power went out, and I didn’t want to light a fire; the two of us got into my bed.

“It was pitch dark, wind howling outside. We talked; her leg was against me but I thought nothing of it. She told me difficult, intimate things, and started to cry, so I hugged her. We weren’t naked yet.

“She kissed me, and I thought little of it. A kiss between women seemed unimportant. She kissed me again, and it was quite nice. I’d been alone too long you see, and at my age it’s frightening to have no one about. Gladys was a comfort to me, and she needed comforting as well.

“We only kissed and held each other that first night. It was nice, and she stayed at the cottage with me for a few days.” Ava said, “Our hands and mouths went a little further each night. You know I was celibate for a long time before you came along, but now I find I don’t like sleeping alone. I liked having her there, and when she put her face between my legs I didn’t object.”

We drove in silence for a while; the road and the landscape were empty.

“Did you come?” I asked.

She didn’t bother to answer, because the question shouldn’t have been asked.

We shifted to lighter conversation, catching up, and soon we were chatting and laughing like the good friends we were.

“Gladys is living with me at the cottage, but she’s at the inn during the day getting things cleaned up for the tourist season.” Ava said, as we drove her old car off of the ferry and onto the island at last.

Ava and I had often used to have dinner at the inn, I thought of Gladys and her husband Clive as friends.

I remembered Gladys as a funny looking middle aged woman. She had frizzy ginger hair and always wore thick glasses. She was well built, in a country woman sort of way; tall with a generous ass, big breasts, and narrow hips.

Despite her dowdy appearance, there was something sexy about the innkeeper. She was flirtatious, she always seemed to look just a little too long at everyone, her smile just a touch too playful. I’d always just put it down to her job. She was in the hospitality business, her coy little smile was important for getting the boys to come back for one more ale.

Clive was older than his wife, probably in his sixties. He was the sort of guy who always had a story or a joke to tell, but his accent was so thick that I often had trouble following him. Everyone liked Clive, he was a gregarious man, quick to smile with crooked yellow teeth.

“What about Clive?” I asked.

“Well, he’s taken up with that young local girl they hired last year, so he has nothing to complain about I suppose.”

“Gwyneth went with Clive!” I exclaimed, with a mixture of shock and amusement.

“What, does a 40 year age gap shock you?” Ava laughed. “There are few lads her age out here on the island, and I suppose being cooped up all winter with Clive did the trick.”

Here on the island we were careful about appearances; I was her young volunteer assistant from America. But if Gwyneth and Clive could get away with being a couple, why couldn’t Ava and I be open about ourselves?

We got to her house; it was almost unchanged. Everything in its place, Ava’s organized chaos. It triggered memories that I associated with joy. We’d lived and loved each other in this house, talked, laughed, and had hot sex here. But I observed a few items that were not there before. Small things that must be Gladys’s.

I took my things up to the guest room as usual.

The permanent population of the island were few, and most were old. The young people tended to leave, and if they ever came back for more than a holiday, it was when they retired. But in summer, tourists flooded in; mostly British, but a few foreigners came too.

“Fancy a cuppa?” Ava asked, poking her head in as I unpacked. “Gladys will be home soon, so we won’t have time alone until tomorrow.”

My balls were aching with lust for her. I was confused and depressed that she didn’t want to be my lover anymore. If she wasn’t doing it with anyone I’d understand, but Gladys?

“Sure.” I said.

“And yes, I did have an orgasm.” Ava said as she left the room. “I suppose you need to know that.”

“So what did Clive say about you and Gladys?” I asked as we sat down at the old wooden table in the living room a few minutes later.

It was dark and intimate in the living room, it was cold outside though it was still light, and the heat of a small fire crackling in the grate was welcome even though it was early June.

“Nothing mostly.” Ava said, “They’ve been having trouble on and off for a long time. He’s so much older than her you know, and people get a bit stir crazy out here in winter. Then Poor Gladys caught Clive together with Gwyneth. So she came to stay with me.”

“And Clive lives with Gwyneth at the inn? She’s just a kid.”

“That’s right. It’s quite the scandal, but now that the season is about to start, the three of them have to work together. Gladys is a pragmatic girl.”

“And where do we stand?” I asked. She laughed, her bright eyes twinkling in the dimly lit room. “Well I really don’t know, dear. I told her you were going to be spending the summer, and now I’m telling you that she’ll likely be staying here as well. The thing is, you’ll be returning to school in September; most likely Gladys will go back to Clive, but perhaps she won’t. I really like having someone here with me in winter, I won’t send her away. You’ll have to make do sleeping in the guest room.”

Code for Gladys was her lover and I was being held in reserve?

I still wanted Ava, wanted her desperately. Yet I knew it would be good for me if that emotion would end. There was no life for me out here on this island, there was no work here. My degree would be toilet paper.

Gladys got home a few minutes later. She stood in the doorframe and looked at us blankly for a moment, impossible to read through her thick glasses. Then she came in and joined us.

I stood to greet her, not sure what the etiquette should be.

“Have you eaten, dear?” Ava asked her, as Gladys leaned over to kiss her mouth with an easy familiarity. The kiss was short, light.

But on the mouth.

“You’ll have to give Luke a kiss as well. Go on now.”

I stood up and also kissed Gladys lightly on the mouth. Her big breasts got in the way and inadvertently pressed into my chest for a moment. We were both uncomfortable with it. Why had Ava told us to kiss? Was she trying to get us to share her?

That night, lying in bed, I could hear them talking in the next room; not well enough to make out many words, but I could tell Gladys was upset.

The next morning the innkeeper was gone before I came downstairs, so Ava and I were alone. The doctor was sitting at the table in her morning robe with a steaming cup of tea.

It was a cold bright Saturday morning, the sun slanting through the small windows, lighting up Ava’s snow white hair. I took her hairbrush from the drawer where she kept it, stepped behind her chair, and started brushing her silky mane like I used to.

“Are you trying t seduce me again?” She asked, half jokingly.

“Of course not.” I said neutrally, so it could be taken either way.

Just the feel of her hair in my hands, the smell of her, and I had a raging hard on.

My palm brushed over her head as I worked, her pale scalp visible between the follicles, so precious, so lovely.

She reached her hand around behind, and planted it unerringly right on the bulge in my pants.

“Well, what’s this then?” She asked accusingly.

“Nothing, it’s always like that in the morning.” I claimed as she squeezed it.

My heart was racing like a virgin; she still wanted me!

“I suppose I’ll have to take care of that before we can move forward.” She sighed. “Would you like that?”

“Yes!” I said quickly.

“Get your trousers off then.” She said.

I did as she asked, unsure that this was the right thing to do. I enjoy a blow job from a beautiful woman as much as the next guy, but our relationship was on unsteady ground. I wanted to do it properly, slowly. I wanted to kiss her, stroke her, hold her, whisper words of love and all that, get into a state of deep lustfulness that would excite her, that would result in a shared orgasm.

In other words, make love. Make Ava love me again.

Ava smiled at my young nakedness. Her sex drive was diminished by her age, but she got a kick out of the way I was always horny for her. She liked that my cock was always quick to stiffen in her hand, that her kiss always turned me on. She always enjoyed making me come, and she knew I needed it.

I sat on the edge of the kitchen table as she held my hot young penis in her small hands, fondling and looking at me affectionately.

I was happy then; just holding my stiff hot penis in her hands this way was acceptance. It was sex, intimate. I smiled at her blissfully, enjoying myself immensely, my bare ass on the table and my feet on the back of her chair, I was serving myself to her like breakfast.

We looked at each other wordlessly. Ava couldn’t hide her pleasure; she liked to fondle me, loved the compliment of a man 50 years younger than herself being in love with her.

My cock pulsed in her hands, aching with pleasure and desire. She looked down at it and sighed.

“What are we doing here, Luke?” She asked rhetorically. “This summer romance thing is too exhausting for me, and I’m with Gladys now.”

“Uh huh.” I agreed, wallowing in the wonderful wicked sensation of her loving fingers on my cock and balls.

“You’ll be going back home in a couple of months, and then where will I be if I’ve chased her away? And don’t you go saying how you’ll stay through the winter, we’ve had that conversation too many times.”

I grunted in agreement.

“So I’m just going to give you a wee blowjob, and that will be the end of it.” she continued, unsuccessfully trying to sound clinical, “Not a word to Gladys and we’ll just pretend it never happened.”

Her beautiful old face descended over my stupid young rod, a hot flood of ecstasy poured up my torso, and I was drowning.

She sucked me slowly, running her fingers down my chest and belly, playing with my balls as my cock slid in and out of her mouth. I watched, fascinated with the way she made me feel. My heart was hotter for her than my penis was, my desire for her was deeper than sex.

I still loved her.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“That I still love you.”

“That’s just your balls talking.” She said frivolously, “You’ll feel more normal after the procedure.”

She went down on me again, working my cock with her lips, tongue, and the back of her throat. I ran my fingers through her gleaming white hair, looking into her blue eyes. Loving every line, every crease, each liver spot on her forehead.

“I don’t want to feel normal.” I grunted, “I ... want ... to feel ... like this!”

She pulled her head up and laughed, still holding my wet rod in one hand as she took a sip of her tea.

I was thrilled with it all; even the uncertainty of it. I was in a posture of surrender, compliant, submissive. I was in her hand.

“I have patients coming, so you’d better come first or you’ll end up carrying this around all day.” She told me, and lowered her face over my cock again.

Her mouth was hot from the tea, and the temperature difference was wonderful and intense.

I held myself up with my stomach muscles as I put my hands on her head, looking into her intense blue eyes. How I loved to look at her, cock in her mouth or not.

Ava had sucked me off many, many times. We used to spend an hour daily cuddling and kissing, but she said vaginal intercourse wore her out. Three times out or four, she sucked me off.

So even though this was a quickie, it was how we made love. Her white hair leaked out between my fingers as I looked at her, absorbing the image of her face, the sensation of her mouth, her desire to pleasure me, her mouth waiting to feel the proof that she still inspired my lust.

My heart pounded, my balls obeyed, and I came into her mouth.

She looked at me, still bobbing her head up and down, working to get as much as I could give her. Ava loved to eat my come; and this was no ‘wee’ orgasm. I’d stopped jerking off a week earlier and I was fully loaded.

My big young penis quivered and pulsed as I ejaculated again and again, my whole body convulsing in climax. My legs were around her back now, I still held her head in my hands and we looked into each other’s eyes though the entire crazy thing.

“Now I think you could do with a cup of tea.” She said, getting up with a satisfied smile as I lay back on the table, gasping for breath.

I was just as crazy for her as I was before she emptied my balls. I got dressed as she stood and prepared a mug for me, milk and no sugar as always.

For the next couple of weeks, I shared Ava with Gladys. They shared a bed at night but I had Ava in the day while Gladys was at work. We talked, laughed, worked, walked. Like always.

And every day, she sucked me off. She just couldn’t resist, and neither could I.

Each time she went down on me, looking into her eyes, her passion was a little deeper. I stroked her head lovingly, and came in her mouth happily, squirting my young lust into her face. I knew her, I knew she still loved me, I knew I’d get her back on her back.

And at last, we made love properly. Long and slow, deep and emotional, sensual sex. At last, she let me slide my penis into her slim delicate body again, and stroke her, and fuck her, deep and long. Until she came.

That was always special to me. I knew that she would only have an orgasm if she really cared for me. She had to be very comfortable, it took trust for a woman her age to let a man do it to her. And we knew each other so well, I knew just how she liked it, and when she came I ejaculated into her, our simultaneous orgasm so sweet, the power of our emotions undeniable.

When we screamed and cried together, her old body and my young one locked together as one, and came together, squirting and squeezing, shuddering and grasping, she was mine.

She seemed troubled later, and I asked her why.

“Gladys is going to know; can’t be helped I suppose. She’s been sniffing around my parts like a dog every night. She’s terribly jealous you know.”

Gladys and I knew each other; we tried to find our places in this arrangement; we tried to be civil to each other. But she irritated me, and I irritated her even more. We were jealous of each other, and soon we were fighting like cats and dogs.

“Listen;” Ava said to me one morning after Gladys had gone off to work, “I love you, but I love Gladys as well. I’m too old to be the referee, I need peace in my house.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

“You’ve come a long way to spend your summer with me, and I won’t throw you out.” She said, “But we’re going to have to be platonic. Just friends. Can you handle that?”

I was angry and hurt at being rejected; but I knew she was right. The age gap was more than a number; she was at the end of her life, I was at the beginning of mine. I had to go to school, I couldn’t be there for her. Even when I got my degree, I’d have to find a job, and there were none out on the island. It was a beautiful place, but an economic wasteland.

I was still in love with Ava; the emotional madness of our first couple of years had mellowed, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be there all summer if we weren’t going to be a couple.

Clive asked me to help out getting the inn ready for a group of bird watchers. All the rooms had been closed up through the winter, and there were some mold issues.

It was awkward; Gladys was barely speaking to Clive or me, but oddly didn’t seem to have a problem with Gwyneth, the young waitress and room girl. Gwyneth and I were working together, making the beds. She was an attractive woman in her late 20’s or early 30’s; she had very short black hair, sharply cut like a man, and blue eyes with flecks of green that gave little away. Like most of the islanders, she was of tall and strong. She had just a touch of extra weight on her rear, and large breasts on her front.

Clive was sixtyish, but I could see how she would be attracted to him. He was very fit, and almost always working. He was competent and energetic; and there were practically no young men on the island except a few of the tourists in summer. Young people went to the mainland where there were jobs.

“So what’s going on at the doctor’s house?” she asked me, trying to sound casual.

“Not much, what’s going on here at the inn?” I countered.

She laughed nervously as she put covers on pillows. “I’ll tell you everything if you tell me everything.” She said.