Chapter 4: Joan Marsh

I was fifteen minutes early at Panera’s Bread. I got us a good table by the best window and staked out my claim. I admit I was a tad nervous – panicked might have also described my state of mind. I reminded myself the reason for this lunch date, especially in a public place where I’d be apt to be seen by my neighbors, clients, and coworkers: I was building the myth that I was dating mature women around my age so that no one would suspect me of having a romantic and sexual relationship with my daughter.

An attractive blonde showed up exactly at noon and began scanning the sandwich shop for a man in a green sport shirt. I stood up so I’d be easier to see, she spotted me, smiled, and came past the other tables to where I’d sat. Unlike many horror stories I’d heard, she looked exactly like the pictures of her in her online profile, only prettier.

“Matt?” she said.

“Joan?” She nodded and I made excuses, “Welcome. It’s so nice to meet you in person. I’ve never done this before, so if I make some faux pas, please let me know and excuse my ignorance. I haven’t dated anybody other than my late wife for twenty years.”

Joan laughed, “You stole my entire opening speech. You’re the first person other than my son or long-gone ex-husband that I’ve been out with in years, although I did try something like this right after my divorce finalized. I am looking forward to this adventure, however.” She had a smile that lit up my insides.

We ordered our lunches and had a long chat. We both waxed eloquent about our children, both bemoaning the point that we would have had more but time passed so quickly that we produced only-children.

We also talked about our previous spouses. I told a very short recitation about Julie’s demise a few years earlier. Joan told me about being abandoned for a better model and how her confidence had been shattered in men and mankind. I expressed my hope to at least resurrect part of that confidence for her as well as show her that men aren’t all bad.

We talked for two hours and many cups of coffee that resulted in alternate trips to the restrooms during our stay.

At a good breaking point, I said, “I’d love to do this again. May I take you to dinner some place in town soon?”

Joan smiled and agreed and we set a date for Saturday and chose a restaurant so she’d know how to dress. While we sat there, I got us a reservation on my Open Table app. She was impressed with my IT skills, but she already knew I worked in the field.

I told her with a chuckle, “I promise I’ll try to be as unlike you ex-husband as I can.” That evoked a laugh from Joan. “I’ll try to win you over.”

Joan said, “You’re already way ahead of the curve. I like you – a lot. I can’t wait for Saturday.”

We parted and I headed back home to do some client work. I had no qualms about taking over two hours for lunch with my new friend. I had about twenty thousand hours of comp time stored up; of course, it was my own business. I’d been and still had tendencies to be a workaholic during presses at my own consulting company, and had been known to pull all-nighters occasionally to get a large proposal or client deliverable out the door on time and in perfect condition.

When Penny got home from school, she barraged me with questions about the lunch date. She not only wanted to know everything we talked about, but also what I thought about her and what I thought the prospects about her in the future might be. She was pleased that I had a Saturday dinner date with her and suggested I take her dancing afterwards.

To my surprise, Penny again told me that if sex appeared to be on the docket with Joan, that I should follow my bliss. “I am more than willing to share you with a woman that can help protect our relationship ... or even become part of our relationship.”

I explained that sometime in the near future I’d bring Joan to the house so she could meet Penny and the two of them could chat. That way, Penny could derive her own opinions about the woman.

I picked up Joan precisely on time at her apartment on Saturday. I arrived with a bouquet of flowers and that earned me our first kiss, and then a follow-up because that had been so nice. Joan quickly put them in water and then we left for our dinner.

Unfortunately, I’d just missed her son. He’d left only minutes earlier to crash the rest of the weekend with a couple of his buddies. They had a couple of serious beach dates the next day and needed to mentally prepare themselves for the encounters. Whatever that meant.

Dinner was delightful, and filled with our vibrant conversation. We each talked about our work – my tech security consulting and her insurance claims processing. We talked about the people we worked with and what we liked about our jobs and the people.

With each sentence, we let our guards down more and more. Whereas I’d felt I had to mete out every word carefully after weighing whether it would please my date, I relaxed and just started to say whatever I wanted at the moment. Joan appeared that way, as well.

After dinner, the two of us went to a place called Danceland. It was a large room with a live band on the weekends, and we were probably the youngest two people in the place by twenty years. Those of the older set that loved to dance were there in droves. The whole atmosphere was joyful and even a tad romantic.

Joan hadn’t expected to dance, but she did pretty well in the sexy heels she’d worn. I promised that we’d give her feet a rest between dances, and I urged her to stop well before any blisters or other aches occurred.

I drove Joan home about eleven o’clock. As I walked her to her door, she held my hand, and pulled me into her apartment. After the door shut, she was in my arms with some very passionate kisses as we stood just inside her living room.

We kissed and then French kissed, and then Joan put my hand over her breasts and looked at me. I caressed and molded my hand to her body over her clothes and kissed her again. At one point, I kissed down her neck and into the cleavage of her dress, romancing her body just outside the lines of her dress.

Joan groaned. With a shrug and adjustment, she bared herself from the waist up. I hadn’t realized it, but the bra was built into the dress and fell away as the dress did.

I’m smart. I can take a hint. Joan’s nudity from the waist up was a hint. I was on her like white on rice. Her breasts were beautiful and full, with good size areolas and pert nipples. She was no spring chicken, but sure liked having my mouth kiss and lave all over her upper body. I made sure not to ignore her mouth as I made love to her upper body.

“God, you are such a sexy man. I want you to make love to me.”

She paused and I guess had some sudden reservation. I pulled my cellphone from my pocket and opened it to the page I’d scanned in earlier. I said, “If you’re worried about me, you might want to see this.” It was my lab report from a week earlier. I volunteered, “I have condoms.”

Joan produced a page and said, “I’m pure, too. Here’s mine ... and I hate condoms.” She passed me the paper, but I didn’t bother to read it. If she so willingly shared, there couldn’t be anything controversial on it.

A minute later, we were removing each other’s clothing next to her bed. She yanked the covers off, and pulled me with her onto the comfortable mattress. She took my shaft in one hand, and milked me to hardness, but it didn’t take long.

Joan was very practiced at giving blowjobs. I figured her ex-husband had really enjoyed her skills, but resisted saying anything. After she’d managed to bring me to the edge, I instigated a change of position so I could eat her love box. She liked my style.

She was a combination of delightful taste sensations. I loved her juices and the more I licked and toyed with her labia and fingered her vagina, the more of them there were. I felt elated when I was able to bring her off. She was almost as easy to make orgasm as Penny.

Joan had a very pronounced clitoris, and the more I worked on her nether region, the more it swelled out of its protective place and took on the shape of a hard-little bullet. When we made love, I knew I’d be rubbing against it, for sure.

Making love followed naturally. She nudged me up, and I penetrated her as we started to fuck in the missionary position. We took it slow, and were all over each other with kisses and our hands. I made sure to stroke Joan’s clit repeatedly, until she came again with my cock inside her. She was full of praise for what we were doing and how we were doing it.

I came a few minutes later, and she asked me to just stay inside her so she could enjoy the fullness and wetness of a new man. Eventually, I withered and slid out of her. She had a hand towel beside the bed – interesting – and we easily cleaned up.

We made out for another half-hour and then made love again. We both admitted we were pretty horny for each other. Joan acknowledged that periodically she could be insatiable when it came to desiring sex. I admitted to the same feelings, but more on an hourly basis.

Joan and I showered together in her shower bath. It was awkward but fun. She put on a robe and I redressed. She saw me out the door, and I headed home, leaving behind a promise to call later in the day – it was past midnight.