Ruth was sad and angry.

“He’s dumped me for a French girl!” she said, looking up from her screen. “After I’ve been waiting for him for six months!”

I sat down next to my friend and put my arm around her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, Ruth.” I said.

“I bet she does some French things to him.” she fumed, “Probably sucks his cock and everything. Six months, Jerri! Wasted! I feel like going out and finding some guy to have meaningless sex with.”

I laughed, but she didn’t.

“Maybe even suck his cock.” She added angrily.

“So you never had oral sex with Doug?” I asked.

“No. we were all Vanilla, condoms and vague marriage plans.”

She was a preacher’s daughter from back home in Minnesota, and my roommate. Although we grew up within miles of each other, we actually met online here in Austin. We were friends within an hour of our first meeting.

She was a bright, pretty, energetic girl, with big eyes and perfect skin. She smiled easily and often, her laugh was contagious. She was sexy in a natural, uncontrived way; she was tall and slim with short hair. She wore one of those silver chastity bracelets and a small gold cross on a chain around her neck. She asked for directions to a church where she wanted to attend mass the next morning.

I told her I don’t do church, and I have a boyfriend, and I enjoy sex. She looked slightly shocked but accepted my right to choose my lifestyle for myself.

Over the next few months, we become closer. Actually, I was a bit hot for her. That was surprising to me, because I’d never been attracted to another woman before.

She was just good; a really good girl. Not because she prayed and didn’t have affairs. She did volunteer work on weekends and evenings, she collected for charity, she did those things that the Christians say they should do, but rarely actually do. Ruth prayed before bed, and said grace before meals; that was annoying to me at first, but I soon got used to her weird ways.

I’m a happy sinner; I have big tits and blond hair, I go out with men and sleep with them when I’m in the mood. I drink and I definitely do not go to church. I take the lord’s name in vain fairly often.

She’d told me she’d only ever had one lover, her childhood sweetheart, literally a choir boy, Doug. He’d gone to Honduras for one of those church charity things while she came to Austin for her new job, and moved in with me.

“I want a hot young guy with a big cock and plenty of money.” She declared, And I’m going to suck his...” She stopped, shocked at herself.

“Money? Since when do you care about money?” I asked.

“Well, if I’m going to fantasize, I can be more choosy.” She reasoned. “This place is a dump, we deserve better.”

“Young guys with big cocks and money are a pain in the ass.” I opined.

“Really?” she marveled, “You have experience with that?”

I laughed hard; “No, not literally.” I said.

“What about black guys? Are they really bigger?” Ruth asked eagerly.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been with one. For statistical analysis, you’d need to measure a lot of them.”

“Really, not even one black lover?” Ruth asked, “Is that racist?”

“You asking, or me not doing?”

“All of it, the whole conversation.” She said.

“Maybe it is.” I said, “So what? Everyone’s racist.”

“I’m not! Well, maybe a little. It’s exciting, Jerri. Come on, let’s go out and find two hot rich black men with big cocks!”

“How do we tell if they’re rich or have a big cocks?” I laughed, “Guys all try to fool you.”

“Hmmmm.” She said with a frown of defeat. “I guess we could feel up guys in expensive cars until we find them.”

Ruth stood up with an expression of determination on her face. She grabbed her bag and ruffled through it.

“Seriously though Jerri, I want a date.” She said, finally fishing out a small card.

“Ha! Found it.” she declared. “This is a guy I met at work yesterday, he asked me to dinner. Did you ever go with an older guy, Jerri?”

“How old is he?” I asked.

“Older than us. He’s kind of cute though.”

“Older than both of us?”

“We’re the same age.”

“Both of us put together?”

“What does it matter? I don’t want to move in with the guy, I just want a nice romantic dinner and maybe sex afterwards.” Ruth declared, pulling out her phone. “Anyway, he’s from out of town.”

“Slow down, Ruth.” I insisted, “You’re all vulnerable and reboundish.”

“This is new to me, Gerri.” She said, her anger shifting to excitement as she putthe number into her phone, “I’m free! Fucking Doug and his French floozy have done me a favor. I want to experience things.”

“Hi, Tom?” she said into the phone. “It’s Ruth from BOA. Is that dinner invitation still open?”

She talked for a while, laughing often, flirting with the man on the other end of the line. It bothered me; it was contrary to my idea of Ruth, a good honest Christian girl who didn’t do the things I did. The thought of Ruth on her back with a man on top heaving away was just abhorrent, I liked a good reaming from time to time because I’m a bad girl.

Ruth is a good girl. I didn’t idolize that, but this was really upsetting my impression of her.

“Maybe my girlfriend.” Ruth was saying into the phone, “Hang on, I’ll ask.”

She put her hand over the phone and turned to me.

“He has a friend with him.” she said, “Do you want to come with us?”

“Blind date?” I said doubtfully.

“Come on, be a sport.” Ruth pleaded, “I’m a bit out of my depth.”

“Ok.” I agreed reluctantly.

I’m a slut, but I like the whole ritual. I’m not easy, guys have to give it some effort, spend some time, money, and charm before they get it.

“An hour? Cool. I’ll text you the address.” Ruth said before disconnecting.

“I’m going out!” she declared happily pulling off her clothes, “On a date!”

“Naked?” I asked.

And then Ruth smiled; smiled in that huge bright way of hers, that way that always made my pussy dampen with empathy and desire. I didn’t want to be gay; I liked men with their big muscles, stiff cocks, and desperate need for female approval. Yet there it was, that disturbing desire for sweet good sexy Ruth.

I have big blond hair, big breasts, and a tendency to wear short skirts and high heels. Ruth has short brown hair, no tits, dresses like a boy, wears trainers and rarely any makeup. But she’s the sexy one. She has something special, guys all want Ruth.

“Lend me one of your short skirts.” She said, sitting at her dressing table and dabbing on some eyeliner.

“Come on, Ruth; what would your pastor say?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s fine.” She said, “My new church is super progressive. Father says it’s perfectly ok to enjoy the body God gave us, to experiment while we’re young and all that. So long as we’re honest and charitable, and do our best to avoid hurting anyone.”

“Charitable? Where does that fit in?”

“A good Christian is always charitable.” Ruth said. “I haven’t had sex in six months! And to be honest, it was getting pretty drab before that. I’m 23 years old and I’ve only ever known one guy. I wonder if Tom has a big cock; did you ever have a guy with a big cock, Gerri? Did it make a lot of difference?”

“Some.” I said, “It depends on the guy. Here, try this on. What about shoes?”

“I have those boots from the charity box.” She said.

“The kinky boots!” I exclaimed, “You’re finally going to wear the kinky boots!”

“They’re not kinky. Well, not really.” She said, suddenly running out of steam. “Shit, what am I doing?”

I put my arms around her as she cried for a while. Her long slim body squeezed against my big tits, her head was small and vulnerable in my hand. I felt all tender and sorry for her, and I had a powerful urge to kiss her. To slide my tongue into her mouth as I held her tight ... And then what? I really didn’t know. My fantasy only went that far. I loved her, and I was sexually confused.

I loved Ruth as a sweet soul, a bright happy person in my otherwise dark life. I loved her the way a drowning person loves a floating object I suppose.

Maybe my sexual desire for her was just the only way I knew how to process that. I wanted to be sexual with Ruth to bind us closer, because otherwise one day she’d leave me for a man.

She broke away.

“I should call and cancel.” She said.

“You can’t do that.” I said, “He’s already on his way. Come on, let’s get dressed. We’ll go out, have fun, eat drink and flirt. Is he rich at least?”

“I don’t know.” Ruth said, “But I expect a nice restaurant and good wine.”

We talked and tried on different clothes. Ruth finally pulled on the boots; knee high soft black leather high heeled boots.

“You look totally hot!” I exclaimed.

“It’s too much.” Ruth said as she looked in the mirror. “I’m taking them off.”

“You can’t wear your trainers with that skirt.” I objected, “And my shoes are too big for you.”

Just then there was a knock at the door. Our dates had arrived.

They were both middle aged men; not bad looking, well dressed, possibly affluent. But older than us, much older. Daddy aged men. I think we were both a bit shocked with ourselves, but the decision was made and the taxi was waiting. Tom was the hot guy who’d hit on Ruth. His friend Jim, my blind date, was a drab middle-aged man; a pudgy face and thick rimmed glasses, thin brown hair with specs of grey, and a very thin area on top of his head that would soon be a bald spot. I cringed internally; Jim was not a guy I’d ever even consider going out with.

I dated hot compatible guys. In my age and financial strata. And to tell the truth, I was bored of that.

I found myself mainly worried that someone would see us, two young women in short skirts out with two older men in expensive suites; would they think we were prostitutes? The idea was sort of funny, why should I care what anyone thought?

I squeezed in the back between the men, feeling vulnerable and sexy in my scant clothing. Ruth sat in the front. They were gentlemen, and their hands stayed on their own laps instead of creeping over onto mine.

We went to a fancy restaurant and ordered expensive food which we ate with real pleasure. The guys were good fun, well spoken and funny. Ruth and Jim got into a theological debate. He was a Jesus freak too.

“You can’t just pick and choose which parts of scripture to believe in.” he argued.

“Why not? Everyone does, have you read the bible or not? You just skip over all the outdated parts. Each era, place, and church has their own values. Our congregation believes in God, Jesus, and charity. But reject the sexual prohibitions among other things.” She said. “We accept gay and transgender people. That’s in line with current cultural values, but not with the bible.”

I talked to Tom; he was a player, all smooth, suave, and confident; listening attentively and making little complimentary comments. I understood why Ruth had called him, Tom was the kind of older man you could fall for. Maybe not for a long term relationship, more of a weekend away lover.

We went to the ladies room to expel the excess champagne and have a quick powwow.

“What do we do now?” Ruth asked, “Should we invite them to our place? Or if they ask us to theirs, are we going?”

“Do you want to?” I asked, “I usually wait for the third date before sleeping with a guy.”

“Oh, RIGHT; third date, I read that somewhere. But the guys are from out of town, they’re leaving Tuesday. This is all new to me, Gerri.”

“Do you want to?” I asked. “They’re nice guys but really, we just met them and they’re both really old for us.”

“I feel like I need it, do you know what I mean?” she asked, looking at me through the mirror with her big brown eyes.

I was surprised; Ruth wanted to sleep with a guy she’d barely even spoken to. Ruth wanted to get laid. It hurt me, but yes, I knew what she meant.

“You want some meaningless sex to help you get over Douglas.” I clarified, “Are you sure about this Ruth? It’s not like you.”

“Listen, someday I hope to meet Mr. Right, settle down in a nice house with a picket fence, and have kids that will be raised by the help. I just want to have fun first, I want to experience everything God has made for us.”

“And that includes businessmen from out of town?” I asked.

“Help me Gerri!” she pleaded, “I want to get laid tonight.”

These guys seemed ok; I could steer her away from it tonight, take her home, put her to bed; and she’d just do it another time, when I wasn’t around. Tom was ok, and both guys would be gone in a few days.

No strings attached.

“They’re staying in an air BnB apartment.” I said, “They’ll probably ask us to go back with them.”

“So what do we do?” she asked.

“I could ask if they want to come to our place for coffee.” I said.

“It all seems so complicated when it was supposed to be really simple.” Ruth said, “They want it, we want it, let’s just do it!”

“Ok.” I said, “Let’s do it.”

We looked at each other in the big mirror. My friend suddenly broke into one of her huge smiles.

“Ok!” she declared, and we went back out into the restaurant to find Tom alone at the table.

“Where’s Jim?” I asked.

“Getting a taxi.” Tom said.

“Let’s go back to our place.” Ruth blurted out, before I could say a word.

We all piled into a taxi, Ruth with her long legs and porno-boots, me with my big cleavage on view, Tom with his grey streaked hair and expensive suit, and Jim with his pudgy face and heavy rimmed glasses. As before, I was in back between the guys, Ruth rode in front. But now we were going the other way; we’d eaten their food and drank their wine, we’d laughed at their jokes and we’d invited them to our home.

We pulled up at our apartment. There was that awkward moment, when no one is sure what’s ok. Tom was a gentleman, he needed an invitation. Ruth wasn’t aware of the protocol.

I didn’t want her to do it with Jim; it just seemed wrong. Ruth was a hot young girl, Jim was a middle aged dud. Tom was old too, but he was sexy. He would probably be good in bed. Still, I wasn’t really into him. I just didn’t know how to let Jim in while telling Tom goodnight.

“Would you guys like to come in for a coffee?” Ruth asked them excitedly.

Tom looked from one of us to the other and smiled like a wolf in a chicken coop. Jim looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Excellent idea.” Tom said.

We all crowded into our small living room, which was also my bedroom. I went up the stairs to the kitchen and put on the coffee machine.

Tom put his arm around Ruth and pulled her against his side.

“Can we go somewhere private?” he asked her.

She looked at me with a mixture of confusion, surprise, and excitement. She lifted her eyebrows questioningly; she’d been talking to Jim all evening and Tom had been flirting with me.

I could see she wanted him, so I gave her a small nod of consent. She steered Tom past me and into her bedroom, her long legs and tight ass disappearing as she closed the door behind them with a soft thud of finality. My church going girlfriend was going to get it, and there was no more to say about that.

I looked at Jim, who was sitting on the sofa down in my room. He looked back blankly. He’d thought he might get into Ruth’s tight skirt. I felt a bit sorry for him, but I didn’t want to fuck him. We’d barely exchanged a word, he was just some old guy who’d somehow landed on my sofa-bed.

I went down and put on some music, just loud enough to cover any sound that might come from Ruth’s room. I looked down at Jim. He looked back.

“Um, listen.” He said, “This is all a bit quick for me, you know. I haven’t dated since before I married.”

“Wait, you’re married?” I asked.

“Widower.” He clarified sadly, “My wife passed a few years ago. I have two kids, early teens.”

Something changed in me then; was it pity? No, it was just the realization that Jim was ok. He was vulnerable and could really do with a good hard fuck.

No, no, no. He wasn’t a hot guy, he was old, not my type at all. And he was a church going Christian too.

“Maybe we could just sit here together for a while.” He said hesitantly, “Would that be alright?”

It was late and I was slightly drunk. I sat down next to him, turning slightly towards him. Shit, Jim was ok.

He took my hand, squeezed it, and smiled at me.

“I would like to kiss you though.” He said. “Would that be ok?”

“Sure.” I agreed.

He leaned forward, and the kiss was very soft. He just held hand as we held the kiss for a while. Our saliva mixed and our tongues touched. I examined my response; my nipples felt stiff and my groin was definitely feeling receptive.

I don’t usually do one-nighters. I like sex to at least have the possibility to lead on to something deeper, and that wasn’t a possibility with Jim. He was too old for me, and lived far away. The kiss was fun and naughty, making out with the weird old guy was oddly exciting.

I put my hand behind his neck and slid my ass onto his lap our bodies squeezed together, my tongue wanted to go down his throat, I could feel his hard-on against my thigh. We were definitely making out but the coffee was ready, so I broke away.

I stood over him for a moment. He was still a mediocre looking middle aged man, but now he was my mediocre middle aged man. I smiled at him, my whole body longing to mate. My brain wasn’t as sure; I’d done this sort of thing before, and regretted it in the morning. He smiled hopefully, making no move. Jim was a gentleman; a decent man who didn’t do this sort of thing.

The only reason we were even fooling around was because my jilted roommate wanted to have meaningless sex with his friend in the other room.

It would be wrong to seduce him into going all the way. Bad.

And I’m a bad girl.

Facing him, I opened my blouse and let it hang so my belly was exposed but my nipples were just barely covered. It was exciting, lewd, beautiful. We were totally wrong for each other, nothing in common at all.

I have my assets. Double D. He looked back at me, and I knew that any religious prohibitions he had were stowed away for the night. He smiled up at me and I smiled back. It was agreed.

“Do you still want that coffee?” I asked huskily.

“Darling, It’s 3 in the morning, I’ve been up since 6AM, and I’m 56 years old. I’m going to need that caffeine.”

I poured two cups of strong coffee and brought them back down the steps. Jim leaned back and opened his legs, patting the cushion between them. I sat down there, leaning back against his chest. We sipped hot coffee as he pulled open my blouse with his free hand, unhooked my half-bra, and finally held my bare breasts in his big male hand.

It was good; spontaneous and exciting. I arched my head back so we could kiss again, Jim was really good at that. I wondered if he was going to be a good fuck; I sure hoped so, but even if he turned out to be a total dud, I was having fun and the age thing wasn’t a problem anymore. Surprisingly, it added to the thrill. Daddy fuck, oh yeah.