Chapter 1

My retirement party was a bit depressing; I felt like an outsider, as if these people I’d known for years were suddenly strangers.

I’d been the boss, and suddenly I was no one. Just an old guy no one really liked.

Maybe I knew them all too well, and they all knew me too well. I had the impression they were only here for the free booze, because my ex-employees were tossing it back wholesale.

The women who used to flirt with me when I was boss hadn’t even shown up. Those who flirted with me now were those I knew to stay away from.

I brooded and withdrew to a corner; maybe I was the weirdo, and everyone else was normal.

There were a few people I didn’t know; one was a beautiful teenager, sexy, and very tall. Long legs, tight ass, pert tits, short shaggy hair. She wore a long strapless dress with a wide belt around her tiny waist, and high heels that made her taller than I was.

It was her laugh that was really sexy though; I saw her smiling and joking with someone, and she caught my eye for a moment, and I imagined a little spark there.

Impossible of course, but good fun.

Almost impossible. I’m a good looking old guy you see. The sort of old guy that people who might like to try out an old guy choose to try.

I’m grey and weathered, yet strong and lean. It’s half luck, half hard work.

I swim an hour a day. I watch my weight. I keep my hair tame and shave every morning. I dress well too.

I’d been married for 30 years, and hadn’t cheated. I’d always enjoyed flirting though, and a lot of people assumed I was a player.

The boy she was with was hitting the bar. I saw she was annoyed.

Before long he was totally drunk. She was clearly livid with him. I saw my ex-foreman lift the kid up, I realized I knew the kid, Jake was his dad.

The girl caught my eye, glanced at the door, and looked right at me again.

I’d had enough by then myself, so I went out to the parking area. She was just toying with me. Nothing could happen, I told myself.

Impossible.

“Can you give me a lift home?” she asked me.

“Of course.” I said and we got in my truck.

“You didn’t have anything to drink, did you?” she asked.

“No, I don’t drink, never did.” I told her. “It works for me.”

“Yeah, it does.” She agreed, running her eye up and down me comically.

“I’m Tony.” I told her.

“Yeah, I know.” She said, “I’m Skye.”

She knew who and what I was; just divorced rich good looking old guy. She’d flirted, I’d responded, it was fun, that’s all.

She was hilarious; we were laughing and swapping jokes about the crowd all the way to her place.

“I like you, too bad you’re so old!” She declared when I stopped at a corner as she asked.

“And I really like you, too bad you’re so young.” I replied.

She hesitated for a second.

“Can I call you?” I asked.

She looked surprised; “You mean you want to ask me out?”

“Well, a guy can only ask.” I said. “Sorry, forget it. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, I just really like talking to you.”

Instead of closing my door so I could leave, she stood there on the dark street corner for a moment. “Yeah, ok.” She said, and fumbled in her bag.

“Here, just put it in my phone.” I said, and she climbed back up into the truck for that.

“This is your boyfriend’s house, isn’t it?” I asked as she thumbed my phone.

“Yeah.” She admitted, “Ex-boyfriend. I told him if he gets wasted again, I’m dumping him. Well, his dad’s place actually. I don’t even want to go in there.”

“Yeah, I’ve known Jake for a thousand years.” I said. “I don’t know the boy but Jake told me ... If you want, grab your stuff and I’ll take you to your folks or whatever.”

“Yeah, thanks, but they moved to North Carolina so it would be a long drive.”

“I see. Well, the only other thing I could offer you is to stay with me. I live up in Helder, an hour from here.”

“Wow.” She laughed, “You don’t waste time, do you?”

“Not like that!” I insisted, “I have three spare bedrooms.”

We sat in silence for a Minute as she thought about it.

Jake drove past us and turned up into his drive, then we saw him haul his drunken son out of the car and almost carry him into the house.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Skye agreed, and she closed the door.

I didn’t expect we’d even have sex; I really thought it was just a flirtation, a ride home that turned into an offer of emergency shelter. I just really liked the girl, she was like a bright light warming my cold dark heart. I didn’t need to fuck her.

She was 17. Her parents sold their farm land on the edge of town to a developer and moved out of state; Skye wanted to finish the school year, so she moved in with her boyfriend.

I was 62. I’d married well and went on to manage my father in law’s businesses, had 4 kids, a vasectomy (slipped that in), and then an acrimonious divorce, resulting in early retirement and a large property to myself in the mountains. My youngest was 30.

It was late when we got to the house. I showed her around the place.

“You can use this room.” I told her, opening a door.

“Oh.” She said, looking surprised.

“Well, of course if you want to sleep with me, that’s ok too.” I added.

She looked into the guest room, then at me.

“Hmmm, solid night rest, or bed with hot gramps.”

“Don’t knock until you’ve tried it.” I said optimistically, “And isn’t it on your to do list or something? Night with an old guy and all that?”

“Yeah, not really.” She said, still hesitating.

“We could just cuddle.” I suggested suggestively.

“Hey, I might be young but I’ve heard that one before.” She quipped.

“Ok, how about a kiss goodnight then?” I asked without approaching.

“Cheek or mouth?”

“Well, mouth if I have a choice.” I said.

“With like, tongue?”

“That would be a bit far for a goodnight kiss, but if you want it I can’t refuse.” I said.

“And where will your hands be during this goodnight tongue fest?” she demanded.

“Wherever you say. I like to hold the face.”

“The face? Really?”

“Of course, the face is everything. So sensitive, so beautiful.” I sighed.

“Most guys go for the tits and ass.” She said.

“See, that’s why you need the old guy experience.” I argued, “We old guys appreciate your inner beauty.”

She laughed hard, and I took her face in my hands and gave her mouth a little peck.

Then I held her face in front of me for a moment and just looked into her eyes sincerely.

“You bastard.” She sighed, and melted against me as we kissed deeply for several minutes in the hallway.

I felt I was being split in two; the primal part of me was screaming to fuck this sexy young girl, make her come, make her mine. Use my great powerful cock to subdue her!

My human brain knew I’m actually not that good at it, that she was probably just fooling with me, and even if we made love I’d probably regret it.

Why, you ask?

Simple. I really liked her, and as platonic friends she might hang around, spend time with me, brighten my day. As lovers, we had no chance; the age gap meant it could never be more than a night or two of experimental carnal pleasure.

She was so beautiful. Too beautiful.

“Take your clothes off.” I told her optimistically.

“You first.” She challenged in return.

“Ok. I agreed, and stepped into my bedroom across the hall.

She stood outside the door looking in as I took everything off, and posed for her with my ¾ stiff cock hanging in front of me.

I swim an hour a day. In the half light, my grey hair and weathered skin were less prominent than my wide shoulders. I sucked my belly in a little, so it looked more flat than it was, and turned so she could check my ass, which was genuinely well shaped.

“What do you think?” I asked as she stood silently looking in from the hallway.

She looked at me blankly for another moment, then entered.

“Huh.” She said, looking at my cock. “Not too bad; does it get bigger?”

“Like a baseball bat.” I lied transparently, “The biggest you’ve ever seen, it’s 12 inches at least, after you pull on it a little.”

She laughed and to my surprise, got undressed.

“You’d better not be lying.” She warned me as her exquisite body was revealed to my lecherous eyes.

“Of course not.” I assured her, “Well, I didn’t actually measure it, but it’s close to 12 inches for sure.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She declared as she got into the bed next to me.

“Me neither.” I said as I ran my hand along her perfect teenage skin.

She lay silently next to me in the dim light as I ran my hand up her flat belly, over her small firm tit, to her long neck, through her short hair.

Then she reached her hand over my groin, and slowly wrapped her long fingers around my cock.

I shivered slightly; it had been so long since anyone had done that. I looked into her half mature face, her lovely eyes, expecting her to change her mind and go.

Then she smiled; she’d decided to continue!

“You’re really hard now.” She said as she squeezed it, “But you’re still only 8 inches.”

“You didn’t measure it.” I said, “I think it’s more like 12.”

“Did you measure it?”

“Of course not, that would be weird.” I said.

“Weirder than a 45 year age gap?” she asked as I leaned over and kissed her taught breasts before working my way down her belly to her open groin.

I inhaled her sharp unwashed scent as I took a close look.

“Even your vagina is gorgeous.” I told her, “May I?”

“Bon appetite.” She agreed doubtfully, long legs spreading even wider.

Her butterfly vagina was framed by a thin ginger bush, and was a bit sour at first, then sweet as she grabbed my head in her elegant fingers and lifted her pelvis upwards with a groan of pleasure.

“You like that?” I asked.

“It’s terrible, the worst!” she moaned, pushing herself against my mouth, “Less talking and more licking, Gramps!”

Her first orgasm was a minute later.

I was faithful to my wife for 30 years, she was the one who wanted more.

I dated a few women before we married, and a few after we separated.

Good looking, successful, age appropriate, single women are few and far between.

Anyway, a night with a hot-to-trot 17 year old who wanted to cross “night with rich old guy” off her list wasn’t causing much inner conflict now.

I got a condom out and she took it from me and put it on my rod with well practiced and quick movements. I wondered how many guys she’d had at her tender age, and then pushed the thought away.

She was a girl who went to bed with an unsuitable man on the first date (not even a date, really). A wild, funny, beautiful girl who had obviously done this a few times before.

I kissed her as she held my rod to her slot, I looked into her eyes, we smiled at each other in silent agreement, and then I pushed my old penis slowly into her tight wet young vagina.

A long exhalation and a deep sigh of satisfaction escaped her, as if my cock was the piston of a pump that expelled it. She still smiled at me, watching me watching her.

“It might not be 12 inches Gramps, but it sure feels good!” she said kindly.

“It feels pretty good to me too.” I said as I began to give it to her missionary. “You’re the prettiest girl, the prettiest. I could look at your face all day long.”

“Haha! You’re cool, Gramps. I like it when you look at me that way. Yeah, you can look at me Gramps, all day, all day Gramps!”

She was coming again; oh shit, she was affecting me. I felt something fall out of place, or maybe into place, an emotional switch. I was in love with her already.

I was 62. Love was just an emotion to me now, it’s not all-powerful like when I was young. I know the feeling, the elation, the longing, the pain. I didn’t want it, especially not for a random pickup one night stand teenager.

But since it was there, I figured I might as well enjoy the high while it lasted.

“No one can hear us, can they?” she grunted.

“No one out here but deer and such.” I told her as I pumped, kissed and held her.

“GIVE IT TO ME GRAMPS!” she shouted experimentally, and then laughed, holding my old face in her smooth young hands, “FUCK ME HARDER!”

Look, I’m not a kid who can get it up again and I’m no champion who can hold off forever. I was doing the best I could. I knew if I did as she asked, I’d lose it.

How could I refuse though?

I fucked her harder, faster, and I felt my orgasm countdown begin. 10 seconds, 9, 8...

“OH YEAH, YEAH!” She chanted, and then we came together in a heaving rush of wild erotic satisfaction.

My body convulsed, hers did too. Old and young, a total mismatch. Only the condom made it ok, kept my old man fluid from polluting her tender young body.

I pumped a little more, holding her, cherishing her sweet orgasm, her wonderful moans of satisfaction.

I held my weight on my elbows and knees, just touching her, and kissed her gently for a while as she looked up at me with a satisfied expression and stroked my back.

“Fuck, if only you weren’t so old.” She sighed.

“Damn, if only you weren’t so young.” I replied. “I’m going to have a shower. Want to join?”

“Yeah, ok.”

I had to pull out first of course.

“I hate this part.” I said, “I feel like I should just keep it there.”

“Yeah, me too.” She laughed.

The tall thin girl and I soaped each other, kissed once or twice, and damned if I didn’t get another hardon in her hands.