Grant
She tastes like cherries, which is ridiculous, but I want to taste every inch of her mouth. An electric current is running through my body as I kiss her, and it wins out against rational thought. In the middle of the night without a soul around, it doesn’t matter how we’re related or how old we are. It’s just me and this beautiful girl who has awoken a part of me that I never thought I would see again.
I had resigned to loneliness when I got divorced. I saw the rest of my life going by me in meaningless days where I devoted myself to work. The times between when the resort is open would be even worse, travel that means nothing when there’s no one sitting beside you to hold your hand as you watch the sun go down or remember the best moments with.
And now, after only one day, I’m starting to think I could find some happiness in this second half of my life. I may not be ready to retire this idea of love just yet.
I can’t have that with Audrey—that would be insane, but now I know this part of me isn’t dead, I can find it again.
But then I feel her soft hips in my hands and notice how perfectly she fits against my body, and it’s pretty unlikely I’ll find anything like this again, but it’s worth looking.
“,” she whispers against my lips.
“Yeah?” I answer.
“Come to my room with me.”
A low growl hums through me, and it’s not intentional, just an involuntary reaction to the idea of sneaking into Audrey’s bedroom, undressing her, kissing every inch of her body, entering her.
Of course, it’s out of the question, but just the idea…
I’ll carry that idea with me for a long time.
Pulling our mouths apart, I look down at her. “Audrey, you know I can’t do that.”
Her shoulders sag. “Then, let’s go to your RV.”
I simply shake my head. “I shouldn’t be kissing you at all, but I can’t seem to help myself.” My fingers stroke her chin, running down her neck, where I lean down and place a soft kiss.
“No one has to know,” she whispers.
“But if they find out…”
“I’m not a virgin if that’s what you’re worried about.”
That’s actually not what I was worried about, but now that she has me thinking about someone else having her, my jaw clenches. That’s clearly none of my business. Other men will have her, and none of them will be me, but the thought makes me want to act like some territorial gorilla.
I’ve only known this girl one day, and I want to imagine that she’s mine.
Taking one of her hands in mine, I pull her to the couch. It may not be a safe decision, but it’s better than the bedroom. As soon as I sit down, she tries to climb onto my lap, but I stop her, placing a hand on her leg to keep her in place. It literally pains me.
As I drape my arm along the back of the sofa, she cuddles close, resting her head against my shoulder. This is still highly inappropriate, and if anyone were to walk out, it would be a scene, but I tell myself that this is okay. I turned down the opportunity to fuck her in her bedroom, so I shouldn’t feel bad about this, right?
I tell myself whatever lies I need to.
Soon, she’s kissing me again. My dick is practically screaming in agony, pent up behind my zipper, but I mentally shut it up. There is no way it’s getting any action tonight, at least not from anyone but me.
So while she kisses me, I run a hand down her spine. She’s in a large black Nirvana T-shirt with nothing underneath but a pair of thin cotton underwear. When my hand reaches her hip, she hums and jerks her body toward me.
I tell myself that this is for her, not me, but that’s a lie. Even if she never touches my dick, making her feel good is all I fucking want for Christmas.
Her knees seem to fall open naturally as my hand rounds her hip to reach her lower belly. Quickly, I grab a plush throw blanket from the back of the couch and cover her with it. Something about letting her be open and exposed to the Christmas tree feels wrong. Then, when I have her covered, I kiss her mouth again, letting my fingers drift over her panties. They are soaked, and my cock twitches at the thought.
“Can I touch you?” I ask, both for consent and just to hear her tell me what she wants.
“Yes,” she moans quietly against my lips. “Touch me, .”
Fuck, my heart skips a beat. Those words on her lips tasted so fucking good.
Slowly, I work her underwear down her legs to have full access to her. I keep her mouth on mine as I run my fingers over her soaking wet folds. She hums again with my shirt gripped tight in her fists, but when she tries to move her hand to the rock hard bulge in my jeans, I stop her.
“I think it’s best we don’t get him involved.”
She whines, letting her head hang back, but her protests don’t last long when I find her clit and begin to circle it with subtle pressure. Her hips tremble in response.
“Yes,” she mouths, and I kiss her neck.
“It’s taking all of my restraint to not fuck you right here, Audrey,” I whisper.
Her back arches, clearly a fan of my dirty talk. Sliding my fingers over her folds again, I feel her arousal drip down, and I spread it over her opening before I gently ease one finger in.
I am undone as she clenches around me. So tight, so beautiful.
My sweet, perfect Audrey.
Turning her head, she kisses my mouth, meanwhile jerking her hips to create the friction she wants. I stroke her toward her climax, feeling her pulse quicken against my chest before I pull out and rub hard on that sensitive nub.
“Don’t stop,” she gasps against my lips.
Keeping up the pressure, I watch as she slowly unfolds, her body jolting in a nearly silent climax.
The grip of her hand on my shirt has probably torn a hole through it, and I hope it has. I will keep this shirt as a souvenir forever, to remember the most beautiful orgams I have ever witnessed. She hums into my mouth as she comes, my hand soaked from her pleasure.
“Oh my god,” she pants, silently. Her hips are still moving in a gentle aftershock rhythm.
“That was fucking beautiful, Audrey.” I can’t seem to stop kissing her, desperate to feel this nearness as much as I can. Reluctantly, I take my hand away from her and wipe the moisture on my shirt—which I’m definitely keeping now.
She keeps her head on the back of the couch, staring up at me with post-orgasm stars in her eyes and a pink tint to her cheeks. I love that she’s not embarrassed or ashamed of just coming in my hands. Instead she reaches for my zipper again.
“Let me return the favor,” she begs.
I hold her hand against my chest. “No, baby.”
She pouts and I kiss her softly on the lips. “You should probably get to bed.”
“Are you going to touch yourself in your RV?” she asks with a wicked grin.
“Oh definitely, and I’m going to think about how beautiful you are when I do.”
Her tired smile stretches. “Guys my age aren’t like you, .”
I rest my head on hers, kissing her forehead. “Women my age aren’t like you either.”
Then, I hold her for a few minutes longer because I don’t know if I’ll ever get this chance again. This might be it for me. These moments could be my happiest, and something tells me to hold onto them, so I squeeze her until I hear her gentle breathing slow into a sleeping rhythm.
Gently, I carry her to her bedroom and tuck her in, kissing her softly before I leave.