tagMatureMr. Anderson

Mr. Anderson

bypapaya_lynne©

Authors Note: This is my fourteenth story and its pure fiction written at the request of an online friend is who far older than me and wished a young woman’s perspective on older men. I call the main Character Mr. Anderson because I went in search of an older man I felt attracted to and turned on by and came up with Richard Dean Anderson.

As always, comments are always more than welcome and please take a look at my other stories!


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I worked as the front desk clerk at the local Super 8 Motel. It was 4 in the morning on Saturday so we were almost all full. My boyfriend, Mitch, had stopped in to see me and we’d ended up having a huge fight.

Just as he was storming out the door and calling me a bitch a couple came in. The man was tall, close to about 6’5” and lean, but strong. I could see the muscles moving in his arms and shoulders and he held the door open and carried 2 duffle bags on each arm. He had a strong, handsome face with a light dusting of facial hair which suggested that he shaved every morning. He looked like he was somewhere in his 40’s but was still a very attractive man. He had light brown hair cut very short with a few little specks of grey showing and was wearing a pair of dark blue slacks which fit very nicely from the back and a black t-shirt, a black blazer was slung over one of the bags he was carrying.

The woman was much younger, she looked like she was in her late 20’s, putting her just a few years above me. She had long blonde hair, very blue eyes which held very little and a dress which held very little. She had very large breast which all but overflowed out of the top of the black tube dress she was wearing. The dress also barely covered her panties, assuming she was wearing any, if she wasn’t I really didn’t want to know. She wore black heals about 4 inches high, which put her at about the same height as me, 5’9”.

I smiled to the couple and did up the paperwork for a single bed room for Mr. Scott Anderson with anger still ripe in my voice. I was snappy an inpatient with the couple as the man tried to carry all the bags and reach for his wallet and the woman stood in the corner looking as though there weren’t a coherent thought in her head.

Finally I had there room all set up and gave them the key and off they went up the stairs.

I was working until 8 in the morning. Around 6 the woman came down the stairs, smiled at me, called a cab and went outside to wait. I did work in a motel; I knew what that meant, what the woman was. It made me think less of Mr. Anderson.

After she’d left the man came downstairs. “Excuse me miss, what time does the restaurant open for breakfast?” he asked in that strong, deep voice of his.

“Just after 7 sir” I said, my tone still a little icy from the fight with Mitch.

“Thank you.” He said, then hesitated, as if he wanted to ask something else, “I know it’s none of my business, but that man who stormed out of here as I was coming in, is he the reason you seem so irritable or have I done something to offend you?”

I sighed, I was tired from the fight with Mitch and didn’t feel like explaining myself to a complete stranger, I was a desk clerk not a bartender. “The guy who left was my boyfriend, we’d had a fight. That’s why I was peevish when you first came in. Now I’m still upset about that and think a lot less of you for brining a whore with you to the hotel. Have a good night” I said and turned around to finish some of my filing.

I’d assumed Mr. Anderson had gone back up to his room, but when I bent down to open the lower cabinet I heard a small noise behind me. I turned around to find Mr. Anderson leaning against the counter staring at me intently. Before I could say anything he said, “She wasn’t a whore. She’s the daughter of an old business associate of mine. I’ve known her since she was 16. She’s a very sweet girl. She’s also from an abusive family. She ran away from home when she was 18 and I found her on the streets in Toronto hustling. I got her off the streets, gave her a job as my secretary and since then have helped her make a decent life for herself. We have dated on and off from time to time and when I’m in town I occasionally meet up with her to rekindle a bit of an old flame. I have never and would never pay for sex.”

I stood there not knowing what to say to his little story. I didn’t know if I believed it or not, but I couldn’t argue it since I had no proof, I’d never seen the woman before so for all I know he could have been telling the truth.

“She’s a little young for you isn’t she?” I asked with venom in my voice.

“Some people would say so. That man who stormed out of here looked a little old for you though.” He replied with a small grin on his face.

“I’m 23; he’s 30, only 7 years difference.” I said, though why I felt I had to validate my relationship to a stranger I didn’t know.

“Well, that young lady was 29. How old do you think I am?” he asked with that little grin on his face again.

I looked at him again, really looked at him, “Probably in your late forties” I said.

He smiled at me, “Close. I am 52”

I didn’t know what to say. “Well sir, your love life is none of my business, nor is mine any of yours. I’m sorry I accused you. Now if you’ll excusive, I have work to do.” I said, trying not to insult a patron and have my boss find out. I turned around again to go back to my filing and heard him make a small, “hmm” kind of noise as I bent to continue my filing. I turned around again, “Is there something I can help you with sir?” I asked my voice stiff.

He grinned again; a grin full of things unsaid, of things done in a dark room behind a locked door and said, “No, just watching you work. Good night my dear.” And with that he turned and went to the elevators.

I got home after my shift and went directly to bed. I was so tired. I hated working the graveyard shifts at work, but someone had to and no one else was willing to do it.

I dreamed of work that night. I dreamed of it being so incredibly busy, people constantly coming in and calling for things. Then at 2 AM our bellboys left for the night and I was alone. Things had slowed down. I got a call, a strong, deep, male voice on the other end of the phone asking for an extra pillow. I went into the back room and grabbed one and made my way up to the room. I knocked on the door and Mr. Anderson answered it. All he was wearing was a pair of silk boxer shorts. His body was very strong, the muscles in his arms and shoulders and torso were all strong, defined but not overly large. His upper body was next to hairless and when he smiled at me it was a charming, heart melting smile.

Words escaped me and I thrust the pillow at him. He smiled even more and said, “Come in child, have a cup of tea with me.” Without knowing why, I went into the room behind him. There are tables and chairs in our rooms, but in the dream there was none, the only place to sit was the bed, so when he told me to have a seat, that’s where I sat. He smiled at me the way a teacher smiles at a student who is a little slow and had just learnt a new concept.

“You’re a very lovely young lady you know. That thick, long brown hair, those deep brown eyes, such long, strong legs, breasts just the perfect size, not too large, but not too small, a waist that is beautifully tapered. Your body is so inviting, those full lips just begging me to kiss them, your legs, breasts, shoulders begging me to touch them. You have such a delectable body for one so young. I’m sure all the guys you’ve known have fallen for you instantly and have shown you just how wonderful being with a man can be.”

I just looked up at him as if he were speaking in another language that I couldn’t quite understand. He knelt down beside the bed, parting my legs and moving himself to kneel between them, he put one hand on either side of my waist…such big, strong hands…then he kisses my upper chest since the first 5 buttons of my uniform were undone. I moaned and leaned into him and he moved his way to kiss and lightly nibble the side of my neck.

It felt incredible; I began moaning continuously as his mouth trailed across my neck, down my chest and as my shirt and bra were removed, to my breasts. They were firm B cup sized breasts with large, very hard nipples. He sucked one nipple into his mouth and I almost screamed in pleasure. His mouth was so hot, so very very hot. His hand moved from my other breast down my body to stroke between my legs. I was so wet it had leaked through my pants and his hand came away moist.

He stood up then, I could see how hard and large he was through the black silk boxers. He removed them and I was shocked. I thought some of the men I’d been with were big, but his cock was the largest I’d ever seen. He was about 2 inches thick and about 8 inches long. I sat there with his cock right in front of my face just staring at it. He laughed then, a deep, rolling laugh and I woke up.

I was awake, lying in bed, but I could hear him laughing. How was that possible?

I got up out of bed and grabbed my robe. I slipped it on and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked heavy and I could see the lust in them. I often dreamt about sex, I always woke up and had to do something about it or go through the day tortured by thoughts of sex everywhere I looked. I removed my robe and lay down in bed again. Since I sleep naked there were no other articles of clothing to remove and I let my hand move to my breast. My nipples were hard, so hard they ached. I ran the palm of my hand over one nipple and then the other, making myself shudder. I slipped my hand down my waist to my pussy. I could feel the heat coming off my body and when my fingers reached my pussy I was amazed at how wet I was.

My finger went straight to my clit and I held back a moan.

Then, there was a knock on my door, “Cherry, hunny, are you awake?” it was my dad.

I grabbed my robe and slipped it on. I opened the door, “I’m up dad, what is it?” I asked, trying not to sound annoyed.

“There’s an old school friend of mine downstairs, I want you to come and meet him. He’s never been to Edmonton before so I was thinking maybe you could show him around town a little today if you weren’t busy.”

I gave my dad my best little angel smile. “Sure dad. I work tonight so I can go hop in the shower and take him out till I have to be at work.”

“Well hunny it is already 6 in the evening. I was thinking you could take him out to dinner somewhere nice and then to the mall or something.” By “the mall” my dad meant West Edmonton Mall and it also meant he wanted me out of the house with this guy ASAP.

“Sure dad, I’ll be down in 15 minutes then, just let me get dressed.” He gave me a grateful smile and closed the door when he left.

I sighed. So much for getting myself off. I brushed my hair and left it down. I put some black eye liner on and some light brown lip gloss. Dad had said to take him out somewhere nice, which knowing dad meant somewhere classy so I put on a pair of black dress pants and a black corset-like tank top with a black men’s dress shirt overtop. I grabbed my work uniform and threw it in a backpack and was headed downstairs when I heard that laugh again. It froze me in my steps. Dad’s friend couldn’t be Mr. Anderson; my dad wasn’t old enough to have gone to school with him.

I went down the rest of the steps and into the living. Low and behold, there sat Mr. Anderson wearing another pair of black slacks, this time with a charcoal grey t-shirt and a black blazer was slung over the edge of the couch. He stood when I entered the room, “Scott, this is my daughter Cherry. Cherry this is Scott Anderson, we went to University together. Cherry was kind enough to agree to show you around town a little tonight Scott. I’ve suggested dinner and then a little preview of the local sights.” Dad turned to me then, handing me a handful of money, “well go on now, have fun, I’ll see you when you get home from work Cherry dear.” Dad gave me a kiss on the cheek and I went outside to start the car as Dad and Scott said there goodbyes.

I sat in the driver’s seat of my little black SUV and didn’t know what to think. The man I’d accused the night before of using a whore, who I’d dreamt about fucking was now walking towards my car so we could go out to dinner. What the hell was I supposed to say to this man!?

That question was answered as he opened the car door and sat down next to me. “So, this is a fairly awkward situation we’ve both gotten ourselves into. I have an idea, why don’t you just take me to the hotel, you can do whatever you want with the money your dad gave you and we’ll both just agree to tell your dad we went out to dinner and then window shopped a little. Sound fair?”

My brain couldn’t agree with him more. I felt uncomfortable as hell and wanted him out of my car and away from me.

But, part of me only hear the sound of his voice, how deep it was, how strong, how distinctly masculine. Part of me flashed onto my dream, I could still feel all the sexual tension in my body building the longer I waited to make myself cum.

As much as I wanted away from this man, another part of me wondered where things might go. He knew I went for older guys, I knew he went for younger chicks; his room was at the hotel I worked at…I wondered.

I didn’t realize how long I’d been wondering until his voice broke through all the lovely mental images flashing through my mind. “Cherry? Cherry are you all right? Are you going to start the car?” I heard his voice, it took me a moment to pull my thoughts away from the image I had in my mind of him standing in his hotel room, his shirt long since discarded, tracing my nails along his arms as I left little kisses and licks and bite marks along his skin.

I must not have responded fast enough because his hand was on my shoulder now. I turned to look at him and when my eyes met his, I blushed. I don’t think I’ve ever blushed that read before in my life, but I didn’t know what else to do. I looked into those deep blue eyes of his and I blushed bright red and stammered, “I’m fine. I’m fine. What do you want for dinner?” and started the car.

We drove to a nice Italian restaurant I knew about in silence. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me the entire way, but I never once looked over at him and neither of us attempted any small talk.

We were seated in a corner booth near the back of the restaurant. It was so secluded, it made me nervous. I was relived when the waiter came and took our drink orders, and wanted to find some reason to call him back as he started to move away towards the kitchen. Being this close to him and with the sense of solitude that the high backed booth gave us made me very nervous, and more aware of how our knees were touching under the table then I should have been.

We sat in silence again. My mind wandering back to the dream, trying to imagine him naked, wondering how big his cock would be, if he would be circumcised or not. The strength in his arms was obvious; I could feel the muscles in his legs. I wondered if he’d like it rough. The thought make me bite my lower lip so I wouldn’t make a small moaning noise and betray myself.

I was lost in my own little fantasy world, which he broke by putting one of his hands on either side of my face and forcing me to look at him.

Again those deep blue eyes. He looked at me with those intense eyes and I blushed even harder this time. I pulled my face away from his and looked down into my lap. I couldn’t look at him, every time I did the blood all rushed to my face to betray me.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I could see the concern in his face, “Nothing’s wrong. I just am tired. I wasn’t quite ready to get out of bed when dad came and knocked on my door.” I answered lamely, but, my Mr. Anderson would have none of it. “So why is it that you can’t look at me without blushing? Is it because your ashamed of how you acted last night? Accusing that lovely young woman I was with of being a whore?” he asked, there was a slight bit of tension in his voice, but there was also a playfulness, like what you’d imagine a cat playing with a mouse would sound like if it could talk.

I looked up at him, ready to be angry, but one look at those strong shoulders and all I could think about was kneeling on a bed behind him placing little love bites all over his shoulders and arms. I blushed yet again. What was wrong with me!? I never blushed!

“Is it that you don’t believe a woman as young or as beautiful as her could be attracted to me?” again, that cat and mouse tone of voice.

Without looking up at him this time I stammered out, “No. No, that’s not it at all.”

This time his voice held a tone of contempt, “well that certainly didn’t seem to be your opinion last night.”

“Well, that was last night!” I answered back, feeling the anger rush over me. I was able to look up and meet his gaze for a few seconds before I felt the blush creep back into my cheeks. The anger worked, but obviously not for long.

“And just what has happened between last night and tonight that has made you change your mind?” his voice sounded accusatory. It made me angry again.

I looked into his eyes and said, “If you must know, Mr. Anderson, I had a dream last night that gave me a great deal of insight into the situation.”

I felt proud of myself for not blushing, until a slow grin crept across his face. “A dream you say? Well now, just what would a lovely young thing like you be doing dreaming about me?”

The blush returned in full force and I said meekly, “I never said the dream was about you” but I couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes.

I hadn’t been watching him closely enough; I hadn’t noticed his hands move under the table until I felt one of his hands, large and strong against my inner thigh, only a few mere inches away from my pussy. “But the dream was about me, now wasn’t it Cherry?” He asked, this time his voice soft, deep, and holding a wealth of untold promises.

I glanced up at his face, there was no point in denying it, he obviously could tell by my actions, so I conceded defeat, “Yes. Yes, the dream was about you.” I said in a quiet voice.

He didn’t say anything in response, but he began moving his hand on my inner thigh in slow circles, massaging my skin and moving ever so slowly upwards.

Neither of us spoke. I was too busy trying to keep my breathing normal to worry about words. His hand was so big and so strong and felt so good on my leg; I sat there almost willing his hand higher.

Finally his hand reached the top of my thigh, he moved his palm to rest of top of my thigh, but let his thumb leave a small line of pressure at the edge of my pussy. Against my own advice, my body betrayed me. I shivered in my seat and I let out a low, breathy moan.

My eyes had closed somewhere along the line and when I felt him pull his hand away from my leg I opened them to find our waiter standing beside the table putting our drinks down and asking if we were ready to order. I glanced at Mr. Anderson who looked deeply into my eyes and said, “Actually, I think we’re just going to pay for the drinks and leave. May we have the bill please?”

I was too embarrassed by having the waiter walk up to us at such an intimate moment that I didn’t argue.

We paid and walked out to the car. The cool air on my face helped me think more calmly. This man was older then my father! This man whom I had known for less than 24 hours! This man who just made me shudder and moan in the middle of a public place was now sitting next to me in the car again, watching me intently, waiting to see what I’d do next. I didn’t know what to do. All logic screamed at me to get away from him, but something inside me was almost drawn to him.

I turned and looked at him, “Mr. Anderson, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry; I just don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for how I treated you at the hotel last night and I’m sorry for what just happened in the restaurant. I’m sorry. I’ll take you to the hotel now and I’ll get someone else to cover my shifts while you’re in town.” I looked away then and moved to put the key in the ignition.

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bypapaya_lynne© 5 comments/ 98891 views/ 5 favorites

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