Jump Start

If you could wear a watch out by looking at it, I'd have to get a new one, since I checked the time every few minutes. I wondered if Einstein could explain how it seemed that time kept slowing down that day. Or maybe it was a bizarre manifestation of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle. Finally, it was appropriate to shower, shave and dress. I had spent a half hour figuring out what to wear—it couldn't make me look too old, or look like I was trying to dress like a kid. I had chosen a nice, but not too fancy or expensive restaurant on the river—I wanted it to be special, but not intimidating.

I drove to June's house, which she had told me she shared with three roommates, and went to the door. I was not of the generation that believed that it was appropriate to text your date that you were in the car. June answered the door and my chin nearly hit the floor. She was wearing a dress that hugged every one of her delicious curves, and was low cut enough to give me a hint of the beauty of her breasts. Her long hair was pinned up, and she wore only a hint of makeup, which enhanced, but didn't overwhelm, her natural attractiveness.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare, or are you going to say something?" she asked, laughing.

"Um, hey, June," I responded wittily. I heard laughter from behind June, and could see three women about her age watching us.

"Hi, Dan," she said, "don't mind the idiots back there. My roommates are just jealous that I am going out with a real gentleman who comes to the door and didn't just text me."

I was silent, but pleased that she appreciated my old school behavior, and June grabbed a large purse, took my hand, and we walked to my car.

On the way to the restaurant, she said that she had never been to the Mill House, but had heard that the food was good. She had a way of talking that I found intoxicating—bubbly and upbeat, with her hands always moving. Occasionally, she would touch my arm, or my thigh, and it sent chills through my body. I had it bad for this girl, and I couldn't blow it. I knew that if I did, I'd never forgive myself. I felt something approaching happiness for the first time since Mindy dropped her bombshell.

When we pulled up to the valet parking, I got out of the car and waited for her to join me. As we approached the front door, she said, "This place looks great. My dad took me to a restaurant just like this when I was a little girl."

We were seated at a table in the corner, and I appreciated the privacy. The waiter gave us our menus and took our drink orders. I had a beer, and June ordered white wine. I was a bit embarrassed when the waiter asked for June's ID, but she seemed used to it, and showed her drivers' license without complaint.

"Seriously?" I said. "He looked at you and thought that you might not be 21?"

June chuckled. "Girls can make themselves look older so easily—a little makeup and a little cleavage can go a long way. I don't mind."

"I guess I shouldn't mind. Just so he doesn't think that this is a father daughter thing, and not a date."

I saw a strange look pass fleetingly over her pretty face and she laughed again, saying, "what do you care what he thinks?" and taking my hand.

We tried to keep the dinner conversation light. I learned that June's father had served in the Marines, and after leaving the service ran a construction business, and that her mother stayed at home and took care of June and her younger brother. I gave her a few details about my life, my marriage and the divorce, without dwelling too much on the way that my ex-wife's infidelity nearly destroyed me. I didn't want to depress this gorgeous young woman who seemed interested in me in a way that no woman had been in years.

After dessert, I paid the check and we left the restaurant. As we drove away, I asked, "So, what would you like to do now?"

June smiled at me and said, "Well, my place is crowded, so why don't we go back to your place so we can keep getting to know each other better."

That definitely sounded like a code for sex, and I felt myself get warm and my cock twitched with lust. But I think I kept my composure and smiled at June, saying, "Sure, I have a nice bottle of wine we can share."

The rest of the drive was pretty quiet, as the tension of a first date, and who knows what else, descended over us. I put the radio on, but not knowing anything about the music she told me she liked, I tuned it to a light jazz station that seemed designed never to offend, and we listened to the music as we drove. Occasionally, I looked over to June and was amazed by the generous curves of her short body, and the beauty of her face. When she noticed my gaze, she smiled back at me, and I felt a shock in my stomach and crotch.

I pulled my car into the parking lot and June followed me to the door, which I unlocked, and turned on the light. June followed me in, and I watched her look at my kind of sad furnishings.

"Take a seat on the couch," I directed, "I'll go open that bottle of wine."

As I turned toward the kitchen, June grabbed my hand and pulled me toward her. She tilted her pretty face up and closed her eyes. I bent over and gently kissed her soft, pink lips, which still tasted faintly of the lemon tart that she had for dessert. I put my arms around her and kissed her harder, and she responded in kind, our tongues flashing against each other. She was so tiny, I picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around my waist as we continued kissing. I could feel her soft breasts pressing against my chest, and my cock stiffening against her ass.

It had been 4 years since Mindy left me, and even longer since I had sex. I was, actually, worried that we were moving too fast, that there was no reason why this beautiful young creature was interested in tired old me. I pulled away from our kiss and smiled at June, saying, "Wow, that was amazing. Now, how about some wine?"

She looked surprised, but unclenched her legs from my hips and lowered them to the ground, turned and sat on the couch. Her cheeks were flushed and her long hair was beginning to stray from its complicated arrangement on her head. She was gorgeous, and it took all of my self-control to go into the kitchen, open the bottle of Merlot and get two glasses. I brought them into the living room, put them on the coffee table and sat next to June on the couch, leaving a few inches between us.

I poured us each a glass of wine, and we toasted, "to new friends," I said. June took a sip and offered her glass to me for another toast.

"To new adventures," she said, fixing me with a stare, before lowering her eyes coquettishly.

We drank silently, until I got the courage to put my hand on her thigh, and she covered my rough, veiny hand with her small, soft smooth one.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.

"Anything," I replied.

"I hope that I'm not out of line, but the other day, at the Coffee Pot, you told me that you had stopped trying to do a good job in the classroom, and it worried me."

I was surprised at where this was going, and not in a good way. I pulled my hand off of June's thigh and turned to face her.

"What are you worried about?" I replied defensively.

"Worried that a nice, smart, interesting guy like you, who once loved what he did, is going through the motions now."

"I used to love my wife," I said, "And she betrayed me. Love is overrated," I spat out.

She reached for my hand. "Do you really mean that? Can't you reach into your heart and remember what it was like to love?

She put my hand on the top of her soft, round breast and pressed it toward her heart. I had forgotten how amazing a breast could feel. I leaned forward and began to kiss her, tasting the wine and smelling her hair which had come even more undone.

We kissed, passionately, for a while, before she pushed me away.

"See," she said, "You can feel passion for a woman; why can't you feel it for your work?"

"Why is it so important for you that I love my job?" I asked, aching to be kissing her and not talking about my job.

"Because I'm just starting my career, and I want to believe that I will always feel as passionate about my work as I do now, and seeing you makes me worry," she responded.

I looked at her before replying. "I lost my spark when Mindy left me. A woman like you will never lack for passionate lovers."

A dark look passed over her face. "You don't know me so well," she said, softly.

"But I want to," I said, leaning back in for a kiss.

Whether it was passion, lust, or just a desire to change the subject, this time, our kisses led to groping, and I found myself, for the first time in probably a decade, sitting on a couch, caressing the breast of a beautiful woman. Her areolas were dark pink, and the size of a quarter, and her nipples were a little darker and long. They looked different than in my fantasies, but the real thing was better. I kissed them, and felt them become erect in my mouth. I felt June's head drop back and heard her purring with pleasure. By this time, her hair had fallen completely off of her head, and hung down like a light brown curtain.

Showing remarkable strength for such a small woman, she pushed me back on the couch, and began to open my belt and unbutton my pants. I lifted my hips up and allowed her to pull down my pants and boxers, allowing my cock to spring free.

June kissed the throbbing head of my cock, then began to lick circles around the head. I was in agony, and did everything in my power to prevent myself from cumming and bringing this to an end. She took my cock into her warm soft mouth. I'm not the most well hung guy, so she was easily able to fit the whole thing in. I was moaning with pleasure as she used her tongue to flick at my cock before moving her mouth up and down the shaft. Her long hair brushed against my thighs and stomach sending shivers up my spine as she bobbed up and down. She continued to show great ingenuity, switching speeds and alternating between sucking and licking. It was too much for me after all this time, and I said, "June, I'm cumming."

She squeezed my balls gently and flicked my cock with her tongue faster until I shot my load into her mouth. She easily swallowed my cum and smiled at me, her nose crinkling in that incredibly sexy way that she had. My head fell back onto the couch, and she climbed on top of me, her breasts pressing against me. She looked in my eyes and said, "Time to forget Mindy and move on. You are a handsome, kind man, and there is no reason that you cannot have the passion that you miss."

June reached up with her face and kissed me, and I held her tight against me. After a few seconds, she rolled off of me and said, "I'll be right back. Wait here." She took her big purse and walked into my room. I sat up on the couch, my pants around my ankles, and took another swig of wine.

I could tell that June had gone into my bathroom, and my first thought was that women only go into the bathroom with their purses when they are having their period, which probably meant that June and I would not be having sex, which really disappointed me, to say the least. She was in there longer than I expected, and I pulled my pants up and drank some more wine.

Finally, June yelled out, "Dan, come in here."

I got off of the couch and went into the bedroom. As I had fantasized, June was in a nightgown, lying on my bed. However, she was not wearing something sexy—to the contrary, she was wearing a flannel nightgown that masked her womanly curves, and she had braided her long hair into two pigtails. She looked about 12 years old, and it freaked me out. It turned me on a little, but freaked me out a lot.

"Don't you like what you see, daddy?" she asked, in a little girl voice.

I was floored. But now things began to make sense. Her constant references to her father. Her attraction to an older man. I was a physics teacher, not a psychiatrist, but it wasn't hard to realize that June had serious daddy issues. I didn't know what to say. I desperately wanted to have sex with her, but not like this. It was too weird, especially for a school teacher.

"What?" I sputtered.

"Aren't I cute?" she asked, again in that voice.

"Um, you are a beautiful woman, not a little girl," I said, realizing that I might well be blowing this, but knowing that it was the right thing to do.

"But, everyone loves little June," she said, pouting.

I sat on the bed and took her hand. "June," I started, "I enjoyed our adult conversations, and our adult activities, but why are you acting like this?"

She started to cry. First like a petulant child, but then like a terrified woman. I let her cry for a few minutes before I reached over and hugged her close to me. She sobbed into my shoulder, and I could feel her small body convulse. Finally, she stopped and pulled away from me.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her face streaked by mascara and her eyes red from crying. "My last boyfriend liked that, and I thought you would, too."

"Really?' I replied. I figured I had nothing to lose at this point. "Tell me about your last boyfriend."

She took a deep breath before speaking. "He was a friend of my father's, even older than you," she said. I winced and she continued, "I've always dated older men. They treated me nicely, and weren't idiots like most guys my age. And I've always been turned on by acting like a little girl with them, and they always seemed to like it. My last lover actually couldn't get hard unless I acted like that. I loved being able to make it happen for him, because when he did get aroused, he was the most amazing, gentle and sweet lover."

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"The only reason that my daddy let me get my degree in art education was because the Major (that's what everybody called him) convinced him to let me. The Major was one of the few people that Daddy would listen to. But a week before graduation, I was at the Major's house, and we were, you know, doing it, when he had a heart attack and died."

"That's awful," I said.

"I know," she said, tearing up again. "But I convinced myself that he died happy."

"If he was making love to you," I said, "I'm sure he was happy."

She smiled at me and leaned into me for a kiss. "That was sweet," she said, leaning back for another kiss. Which led to another kiss, and another, and me kissing her neck and her rubbing my back.

June pulled the flannel nightgown over her head and I saw, for the first time, her beautiful body completely nude. Her breasts stood up proudly from her torso, and her stomach was flat and soft. There was no tattoo. Her pussy was, not surprisingly from the story she told me, clean shaven, and surrounded by firm thighs that tapered into short but perfectly formed legs. Even her small feet were pretty.

I tore off my clothing and jumped into the bed, my cock fully erect.

June snuggled up to me, and we lay on our sides as I held her close, feeling the warmth of her soft body and smelling her scent. It seemed natural just to hold her, even though I was aching to fuck her. I started to stroke her back and her neck, and she made delicious purring sounds. My hands strayed down to her hips and then to her smooth, round butt cheeks, rubbing them and reveling in their firmness and shape. She wiggled her hips, pressing them against my throbbing cock and making me moan with pleasure and desire.

We kissed, and I tasted her mouth and tongue, and then moved to her soft, delicious neck. Mindy was nearly as tall as I was, so June's small size was a different experience for me, and it turned me on. I pushed her back on the bed, and watched her luscious breasts as they sat up on her chest, inviting me to explore them. I kissed down her sternum into her cleavage, feeling the soft skin on my lips and smelling her personal aroma as I squeezed her breast against the sides of my face and my nose was surrounded by her mounds. Working my way up the side of one breast, June sighed with pleasure and gasped as my lips closed over her stiffening nipple. Her hips writhed as I sucked and tongued her breast, so I reached down and placed my full hand on her pussy. I could feel her moisture and used one finger to trace her lips before slowly inserting it into her warm, welcoming hole as June lifted her hips to meet my finger and moaned.

Without taking my mouth off of her breast, I used my finger to explore her pussy and brushed her clit, which set off another round of moaning and writhing. I had never in my life, even with Mindy, ever felt that I was giving a woman so much pleasure. Whether I was, or whether June was making me feel good was immaterial, because I believed, at that moment, that I was a great lover.

I wanted, no, I needed, to be inside her, so I pivoted my creaky body on top of this pixie woman and rammed my hard cock as deep inside her as I could. June yelped but didn't resist as I began to fuck her as hard and fast as I could. But I realized I wasn't wearing a condom and slowed, then stopped my thrusting, causing June to whimper with disappointment.

"I need a condom," I said softly.

"No," she panted. "I'm on the pill. Don't stop."

I needed no more encouragement, and began to slowly thrust again, building again to a speed and power that I never felt before. June's small frame was wriggling under me and bucking to meet my thrust. But I was 45 years old, and not in the best aerobic shape, and I began to lose my breath. As I was about to lose both my wind and my control, I felt June buck against me hard, squeeze my cock with her internal muscles and I came with a blast as June yelled out, "Oh, daddy, yes, yes, yes!"

Which completely freaked me out. I rolled off of her, both to prevent me from crushing her, and because the "daddy" thing was so weird. I lay there, catching my breath and listening to June, as she caught hers, which happened much faster than for me.

But, eventually, I was able to speak. I knew that I was running the risk that what I was about to say would mean that there would not ever be a repeat of that mind blowing sex, but, on the other hand, I was not interested in being her father figure in some sort of strange incest fantasy. I had hoped, probably delusionally, that June was actually interested in me, not because I reminded her of her father.

Before I could say anything, June turned to me, gave me one of her crinkle nosed smiles and said, "That was amazing, Dan. Thank you."

I smiled back at her and said, "No, thank you." I was transfixed by the sight of her firm breasts, but I realized I needed to say what I needed to say.

"June," I started, slowly, trying to figure out the best way to say it, "I'm a little uncomfortable that you called me 'daddy' when we were making love."

June looked surprised. "No, I didn't," she responded. "Why would I say that?"

It was my turn to be confused. "I'm sure you did," I said, firmly.

June brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees in a clearly defensive position. I could see various emotions run across her pretty face, but had no clue what they were. Finally, she looked down, bit her lower lip and said, in a low voice, "Did I really?"

I wasn't sure what was going on, but simply nodded. This unleashed another torrent of tears, sobbing and rocking. I was wildly uncomfortable, and could only watch. I was afraid to touch her and figured that her crying would, ultimately end. Finally, after what seemed like forever, she stopped crying and sniffled. I handed her a box of tissues, and she dabbed at her eyes and face.

Meanwhile, I was totally at sea. My night included a beautiful dinner with a gorgeous woman, a blow job and amazing sex but also two bouts of tears, and a fear that my new lover had some sort of daddy fixation. On the one hand, I wanted to fuck her again. On the other hand, I wanted to send her home and never see her again. I decided to try to get to the bottom of things, so that maybe we could keep seeing each other. Mindy would have said that I was a typical man, thinking with his cock, and she would have been right. And out of line, since she clearly let her pussy lead her to the mailman.