Chapter 1

When the phone rang, I was right in the middle of a computer operation and I had to let the call go to phone mail. Five minutes later I played the message from Rachel. "Hey, Jordan, where are you? I'm lonesome. Actually, I was watching the weather and saw that the hurricane would definitely hit Pensacola. I know what that means for you. Last time, I went without for a whole week. Call me?"

I called. "What's this lonesome stuff? With your schedule, how could you possibly be lonesome?"

Her voice changed to childlike. "I'm too shy to say 'horny' on the tape. I'm just a little girl who needs a big man."

"You know how angry I get when you lie. I will deal with you harshly."

"Ohhhh, harshly! Will you, now?"

"Want me to bring some takeout food, or do you think you could fix something?"

"I have something for an appetizer that tastes like oysters. Want some?"

"Got any crackers?"

"Shithead. Actually, I have dinner under control. You will be shocked. Bring some red wine."

When I arrived at her small apartment, Rachel wore her skin-tight short shorts, a snug T-shirt with no bra, and was barefoot. When I came in, she kissed me with her whole body. "Hi, old man." Her green eyes sparkled, topping off a bright smile.

I replied, "Well, you're barefoot, you're in the kitchen, and if you were only pregnant, you could be a real redneck." My hands covered my belly before she could do her swift rabbit punch. "I brought wine. Someday, when you're legal, I might even take you out to dinner."

"When I'm legal, why would I want to go out with the likes of you?" She kissed me again. Both of us knew the age thing was a big wedge. She wanted children sometime. We made it a source of hard jokes.

"Where are the crackers?"

"You bastard!" She turned around and wiggled her butt, "I'll just check the roast and see if I can find them."

"You made a roast? My God!"

"Yes, I did. I have two things that I want you to remember eating while you're out there helping the homeless." She wiggled again, "We have thirty minutes. Want some oysters?"

I brought her to me in a complete body kiss. She excited me constantly. At that instant, I felt grateful that she didn't have her life in order. With her arms around my neck, I lifted her and carried her to the bedroom.

She removed her clothes quickly and undressed me. "Wow! Jane horny!" She put her finger in her pussy and then held it to my nose. "Tarzan horny?" She held my cock, "Oh, what will we do without that nosy chimp?"

When I opened her legs to get a look at the rich color of her dark brown pubic hair, trimmed just enough to be discreet in her bikini, I put my mouth where my small head wanted to be and licked. The first time I did this to her, she almost passed out. She learned that old guys have some benefits and that's why she kept calling. When I sucked her vulva in my mouth, she shrieked and wiggled. She reached her first orgasm from my licking her labia; I hadn't even touched the magic button. I put my tongue softly on the clit and gently moved it from side to side. She liked it and went into more spasms in about thirty seconds.

I looked up and said, "Feels like Jane really horny."

"Why do you use your tongue to talk nonsense, when there are much better things you could do with it?"

I found other uses for my tongue. After several intense body spasms, she said, "OK. You proved you can eat my oysters one more time. I have to stop."

I held her and kissed her as she stroked my cock. She said, "I like this part. I like to smell my pussy on your face and I'm always so happy to see you. I feel calm when you hold me after those crises." She put her head on my chest. "Where will I ever find a real man who makes me feel like this?"

"You have to take the old ones or you have to teach them what you like."

She was trying to get up. "I promised you something good to remember me by. Let's go eat the second course." She hopped up and put on her T-shirt, which barely covered her shapely round butt.

When we went to the kitchen, she proudly showed me that she had made a pot roast in her slow cooker. The aroma caused my mouth to water, even though it still had a nice taste in it. Maybe I should cleanse my palate? The onion and garlic smell brought out another base desire. She saw me looking attentively at the pot.

"It's a standard recipe from the crock pot cookbook. My Mother made it and my dad loved it."

"I couldn't eat it every day, but it smells divine."

She ran to me and hugged me, holding her face up for a kiss. I obliged and then she said, "I doubt that the oyster got the same thrill being eaten that I did."

"You have to be specific with your new lovers. They may not know how and you must teach them how to please you."

She served the plates with lots of potatoes and carrots and crisp hard rolls. She made a large green salad. I poured the wine, and we had a superb country dinner. She nudged me with her shoulder from time to time and she held her face up several times to be kissed during the meal.

"Well, Rachel, you have proved your ability to ravish men. First the oysters and then the pot roast. Who among them could resist you?"

"You've kind of spoiled me, Jordan. I never leave you without feeling like a piece of overcooked spaghetti."

"Rachel, when I'm with you, my heart soars. You thrill me every minute. Some days I wish that... Well, I do. I've often thought that we'd do well together."

"I think I'd get lost in you. I have to be somebody, too. Is it so bad that we have these trysts to scratch our itches?"

"No. I'm glad that you are smart enough to put me into that perspective. Sometimes, you charm me to the point of making me irrational."

"That's exactly what I mean. I have to find someone my age or so. You are too damn comfortable."

We ate. Both of us had our shirts on, but our genitals were bare. When we finished eating, I said, "You make a fine meal, redneck girl. Reminds me of my mother."

She said quickly, "See? I knew that. You have to find someone your own age, too. Surely even you can find a woman who can make a pot roast by following directions."

"I can only hope."

As we loaded the dishwasher, she asked, "How long will you be gone to the disaster shelter?"

"For a few days until we get them fed and settled."

"Every time we go through this separation, I say that I can't let you come back. Then, the hormones kick in and I don't want to be without you. Girls need love, too."

"I know that you find me irresistible. You must look for real candidates."

She poked me, "Attractive. Not irresistible." She put her head on my chest and her arms around me, "OK, fucking irresistible."

"While I'm gone, I expect you to be open to offers from real candidates in your future. A fifty-year old guy and a twenty-year old woman make nice romance stories, but in real life, someone suffers."

"You're rounding up. You are not yet fifty. Every time you say that, I know you're right. I just know it. I promise to be open and available to the right person."

"If you like them enough to let them into your lair, coach them on how to please you. You will find a willing pupil and he will be the one."

"OK. We've had our 'Rachel, get-your-life-in-order' talk again. Can we go to bed?"

I carried this dream girl back to the bedroom and as she went through her nightly bathroom ritual, I stretched out on the bed and remembered our first time. We were both working as volunteers at a silent auction to raise money for the prior hurricane victims. We sold a lot of donated merchandise and services. As I sold the items, I turned the money over to her as the treasurer. Watching her move and bend over and talk to the customers took more of my attention that it should have, but with her long hair and flashing eyes and smiles, I couldn't avoid looking. OK, I fantasized about her butt and boobs, too, but that's par. Then, seeing her in her nice heels and viewing her long legs only added to my raw desire.

After a long while, our tables were sold out and I sat in my chair and breathed, "Thank God that's over! I almost bought something to end it."

She took a glass of Champagne the volunteer offered from her tray and handed me one with a high wattage smile. "Tired?"

"Hell yes. I could collapse."

Her charming laugh made me almost shiver. "Shall I call an ambulance?"

I held out my glass in salute, "I will try to do it on my own, thank you."

We had walked close many times during the auction and I even held her shoulders close to me to make room for them to move one of the larger pieces into a waiting SUV. She touched me occasionally. I laughed at myself for constantly thinking about her round butt. Any attention she gave me caused my heart rate to go sky high, and I kept myself in good shape. You know how it is when some sweet young thing pays attention. She could have sold me the building.

She said, "OK, I'll take your word. What are you going to do?" She seemed interested as she sipped her wine. She had this magnetic presence that good looking women somehow enjoy; and when they smile directly at you it is unnerving. Maybe she already knew, but I was a captive within her spell. I didn't know why, but she seemed to want me in her trap.

I felt a pang of guilt for being so tired. We'd been at this for four hours and she was wearing heels as she swished around the area. I was wearing comfortably padded shoes. "I'm going home to sit in my hot tub and get my muscles functioning again, and then I'm going to sleep. What are you going to do?"

She replied with disgust, "The hot tub at my apartment is filled with--shall we say--undesirables."

"Mine's private."

She looked over her glass, "Is that an invitation?" Her sparkling eyes played with me and her long lashes were made for flirting. She knew she had my complete attention by now.

A shock ran through me as the potential for having her seemed possible. I tried to talk clearly, but what came out was, "Uh, uh, how can I say this?" I looked at her, "I don't allow suits in my spa. Bad for the system." Before when I used that line, it was in a bar or at a party; it came out sexily and sounded provocative. I think I flunked with her.

She stretched, fluttered her eyes, and said, "Not a problem. I like it better naked."

That message seemed clear enough. She liked me enough to go to my tub. I was unprepared to hear those words from a twenty year-old student. Get with it, say something! I recovered enough to ask, "Ride with me, or follow?"