It was 4:30 p.m. and already dark one dreary, rainy late January day in Portland. As usual, I stopped by my local Fred Meyer store to buy some items for dinner. One trip to Montreal years ago and, ever since, I've liked buying just enough fresh items for dinner each night. I even shop with an old web sack that I got when I bought too many oranges. It is a ritual now. I see some familiar faces and get to talk to few people briefly before heading to my quiet house and the evening news.
Don't go saying, "Oh, how sad." This is exactly how I want things. I work from early till late building a house that I will sell for money I do not need. I like building. I enjoy giving some young couple a good deal and carrying the paper for them. I like to drive by my former projects just to see what the young couples have done with them. Seeing little kids out front always put a smile on my face. I wonder what room they were conceived in. When my wife was alive, we would christen each room before we sold one of my houses. I'm sure the new owners thought they were the first; never imagining that their sixty plus year-old builder beat them to every room with his horny little wife.
Connie had been a hot hand full right up to her death at fifty-five. She knew how to keep me making it home on time. It has been eight years now. I still miss her. I work most of the time. Dating and strip clubs just don't seem to be me. I do love the women, their touch, their smell, their softness, their voices. I'm relaxed with them. My closest friends have always been women. All have known that I am dominant and sexually playful. Often, new female friends find me unconventional and shocking - too direct, too open, too inquisitive.
I had all the ingredients in my bag for Chinese Chicken Salad, when I spied another frequent shopper. Usually, not my type, she was mid-forties, thin, short, good shape, overly short hair colored almost platinum, very little makeup and dressed down to jeans and sweat shirt. I had not said a word to anyone since ordering breakfast at McDonalds, "I see you in here many evenings. You must shop for dinner every night, like I do?"
The look was pleasant, standoffish, wishing I would go away. "I decide what I want for dinner by looking at the fresh vegetables."
"Good healthy idea. I sort of do that. It keeps the leftovers and waste down. And I get to talk to interesting people before I go home and cook."
She could have let the conversation drop at that point but she didn't. "You could go out for dinner and talk with people and not have to cook."
"True. I guess I like quiet evenings after a workday and I like to cook."
"What are you cooking tonight?"
"Just Chinese Chicken Salad and French Bread, but it will be the best on the West Coast."
"Pretty sure of yourself."
"Well test me, pretty lady. I live across the street. Come over for dinner and you can write a review of my dinner for the Sunday paper."
"Thanks for the offer, but I have to get home. Besides, we don't know each other."
I reached out and took her hand, "John Harper, you see my Harper's construction trucks all around. My son runs the business now. I just take on a project once in a while to keep myself busy."
"I have seen your signs. You are too young to be retired."
I let her pull her hand away, "You are not only pretty but you have a silver tongue and lie beautifully. Thank you."
She blushed a little and turned back to the tomatoes.
"Tell me your name and you can have a rain check anytime you change your mind."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Janet Thorn. I live a few blocks behind the store."
"Here's my card, Janet. Some evening, tell a hundred people where you will be and for how long, then risk calling me. I would love to have dinner with you. You pick the place or I'll cook."
She read the card. "You do live close."
That seemed like an opening. "Yes, I am. Reconsider, come over about seven; we should be finished eating by eight thirty and you would be home before curfew. I guarantee the food and conversation will be better than eating alone in front of the TV. I'm an expert at that."
"I don't know when my daughter will be coming home tonight. I had better not."
"Maybe another time."
Right at seven the telephone rang. "John, this is Janet Thorn. Is that offer still open for dinner tonight?"
"You bet it is. Bring you daughter, if you want."
"She is working late again tonight. I'll see you in a few minutes."
I moved my setting from the coffee table, set up the kitchen table for two and selected a nice light wine. Before she arrived I mixed up some batter for desert crapes - banana slices, shaved almonds, whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate. I had one chilled bottle of Asti Chinzano Spumante that would be perfect with the crapes. I was wondering if she drank wine, when the doorbell rang.
"I hope the house wasn't too difficult to find."
"No, I've always wondered what this big house looked like inside."
"Let me give you the nickel tour and then you'll be on your own after that."
She liked the indoor waterfall and pond; she liked the indoor pool, the kitchen, living room, family room and den. We stopped there. My bedroom is downstairs; we left that out. We left out all the upstairs bedrooms. "Too bad it is dark, I would like to show you the backyard."
"I would like that too."
"Janet, will you have wine with you meal?"
I continued doing everything I could to make her comfortable and not think I was going to drug her. "Get the glasses out of that cupboard and pour the wine while I get our salad dished up."
Dinner was relaxed and talkative. She could not believe I lived alone in such large house. "At one time there were four boys, my wife, two people who worked for us and dozens of people I did not know very well that seemed to be here a lot. My boys all have their own families and places nearby, my wife died a few years ago. Just me now. Banana Crapes for desert, OK?"
"I've never had crapes before."
"Fancy name for thin pancakes. I think you will like them. Get the other bottle of wine from the fridge. It is a very light sparkling desert wine that should go well with the crapes."
Over dessert, Janet began to talk about her daughter, Denise. She was proud of the twenty eight year old, college graduate, first-year law student. But something rang hollow in her words.
I lit a fire in the den while Janet brought us our cups of coffee.
"Tell me more about your daughter. I sense that something isn't quite right."
The direct personal observation made her uneasy but she answered, "Denise is very smart. She is even a Mensa member. She works long hours and has been very successful in a short time."
"That is all good. What is the bad?"
"She is very condescending to others, almost conceited. Sometimes I feel she can barely tolerate my average mind and existence."
"Mom, you are far above average. You are articulate; you take care of yourself; you are fun to be with; you are pretty and you are sexy."
She blushed a little. It was a little after nine, when I helped her on with her coat and walked her to her car. "Janet, I hope this is only our first dinner together. I enjoyed spending time with you."
By her car she stood on her toes and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "I enjoyed tonight too."
She turned from me and reached for the driver side door. I leaned against her car and slid down a little so my face would be level with hers, "I have wondered something all night. Please, come here for just a minute."
There was a little fear in her sparkling eyes but she came to me, standing close between my outstretched legs. She coyly asked, "What have you wondered?"
I pulled her stiff body to me, "I have wondered how your lips taste." Her body believed it should put up some token resistance. I stroked around her ears and down along her chin line. When my lips touched hers, she relaxed into me and sighed. Her lips were warm and soft. The kiss lasted a few seconds longer than a first kiss should. I pushed her head slightly away from mine. Her eyes were closed. I licked across her lips lightly, then whispered, "I don't wonder anymore. They taste better than desert and are exciting."
She leaned tighter into me. She had to feel my hardening cock pressing into her belly. Her skin was flushed and her breathing was deep when we parted. I made no effort to hide my admiration of her ass as she got into her car. I said my goodbye, "Thanks for your company tonight, pretty one. Call me on my cell phone, if you can get away for a quick lunch. Or we will just see each other at the store."
She was beaming as she drove away. It had been a while since a man had been so openly appreciative of her.
I didn't hear from Janet for a week. I was dirty and tired when I saw her ambling through the produce. I snuck up behind her trapping her between my body and her cart. "You have been avoiding me. I'm sad that I ran you off."
I stayed close when she turned to face me. Most of her body had to rub across mine. Her eyes darted around when she answered me, "I have not been avoiding you. I've just been real busy." Her eyes kept glancing about.
"Come have coffee at the deli with me and tell me the truth. I'm a big boy; I can take it. Come tell me I was a bore, a poor kisser and you were happy to get away from me."
"I enjoyed every minute of our time together but Denise is shopping with me today. She gave me lots of trouble for going to a house with a man I just met."
"It's time I met this ogre who has you living in fear. Let's draw her out and make her find us."
I was a little surprised that she followed. We were laughing about something when a stern faced Denise walked up. "I've been looking all over for you."
"You must be Denise. I've heard very complimentary things about you. I'm John Harper."
She shook my hand, sized me up and fought to maintain control. "Mother told me about you too. You are older than I though you would be."
"I'm sorry for that. You are exactly what I thought you would be. Please join us for coffee. I'm trying to talk your mom into going on a day-long train ride with me." That was the first Janet had heard of my plan.
"No, we have to get home. I have already checked out with the groceries."
Janet looked shocked that her daughter would act so rudely.
"Denise, I enjoyed meeting you. But I understand, nothing is worse than refrozen ice cream. Your mom and I are not quite finished with our coffee and our discussion. Please, you go on home, I'll bring her in a few minutes."
Denise noticeably bristled. She felt far superior to any construction worker. "Mom, you need to come on now."
Janet hesitated and looked at me. I squeezed her hand below the table and addressed her daughter, "Denise, we old slow-witted people are allowed to make our own decisions, make our own mistakes and pursue our own happiness. Even if all we are capable of is putting caps on toothpaste tubes. I believe you are studying that in law school. You run along home, like a good little rude girl. We will be fine and about fifteen minutes behind you."
I took a couple of dozen daggers from her. Janet took a few but did not flinch. Denise went off in a huff with her basket. She could be a good-looking woman. For now she was harsh, controlling and arrogant.
Janet and I finished our coffee and I drove her home. She was disappointed with her daughter and a little afraid of going in alone. I did not ask; I just walked in with her.
Her daughter kept her back to us as we entered the kitchen. I started as if nothing had happened earlier, "Denise, I saw your access badge. You work for Stern, Black and Caldwell. Is Don Stern still active in the firm?"
She was taken back but had to answer such a blunt question. "Yes, he still puts in long hours."
"He and I go way back. I built his first house in Oregon. He did lots of work for my first subdivision when he was on his own. Tell him you ran into me and I asked if he has learned to write contracts yet."
I knew she would not have access to a partner; she wasn't even an attorney yet.
It was time for me to leave, "Denise, I really enjoyed meeting you. Janet, I'll call you later this week. Maybe we can set a date for that train trip. Maybe Denise can come with us."
Janet's evening would be complicated. She would be told that she had bad judgment and how horrible the man was that she had chosen to have coffee with.
She survived. Over the next couple of weeks we talked on the telephone often. She even brought a picnic lunch to my job site one day and we ate on the floor in the sawdust. We were having fun but I had to get back to work. I sprinkled some shavings in her hair and smiled.
"Why did you do that?"
"I want Denise to see the sawdust in your hair and give you trouble for rolling around on the floor with me."
"We did not do anything."
"I know. But we will if you don't let me get back to work and quit thinking about how much I want you."
She packed up and was gone quickly. Her lingering goodbye kiss and her body's full length press confessed that she wasn't too offended by my words. The sawdust was still in her hair as she drove away.
My project house sold even before the kitchen was in. I had to scramble for weeks to meet the walk-through inspection date. Janet and I talked, picnicked but saw very little of each other for a couple of months. One evening she did bring Chinese to my home. Luckily the front door was open; I had fallen asleep in my easy chair in the den.
I awoke to her getting dinner ready. She saw me watching her, "You sleep so still and quietly."
"I was dead for a while. My body can't do what it used to."
Gracefully, she did not kid me on that sensitive subject. "Go wash up."
We ate. She went home. It was pleasant.
The weekend after my project closed, I invited Janet and Denise for a mid-afternoon bar-b-cue in the back yard. It was warm and sunny. Denise was spell bound by the house and the grounds. Like her mom, she could not believe I lived alone. While we cooked, Janet heard laughter coming from the indoor pool. "John, someone is in the pool. Do you have guests?"
"Not really. I just let a few girls swim some afternoons before they go to work."
Before I could say any more, Janet went to the pool with Denise right behind her. I laughed inside, waited a couple minutes and followed. My two ladies were standing, open-mouthed, side-by-side. A few feet in front of them were three naked, mid-twenties, lovelies from the neighborhood strip club. Except for the hair on their heads they were cleanly shaven. The view was magnificent. Tiffany, Brandy and Desire had finished introducing themselves when I arrived. I introduced Janet and Denise, since neither seemed capable of speaking at the moment.
We finished all the niceties. The naked beauties said they had to go and get ready. Brandy came to me and gave me a full, wet body hug and said, "Thanks again for letting us swim. It is helping just like your said it would." I got a nice kiss full on the lips and they scurried off. Janet's face was full of questions.
"Come on you two. I'll explain."
We walked to the back yard. I got us all a beer. Denise's look was, "What, you expect me to drink beer?"
"The three naked beauties are strippers from down the street. I shoot pool there often. They were talking one night about pulling muscles and starting to become too defined. I suggested they swim to stretch out before dancing to solve both problems. They try to match their schedules and have been dropping by for several months now."
"You don't mind if they just come in like that?"
"Surely, Denise, you are not asking a male if he minds looking at gorgeous naked young women."
They worked hard to discretely regain their composure and giggled quietly to themselves. I added, "Neither of you, seemed to mind looking at them either."
They looked like deer in headlights. Caught. Before they left, I offered, "You can come use the pool anytime you want."
Janet teased, "I love to swim. Do we have to swim nude?"
Denise held her breath. She couldn't believe her mother said, 'we'?
"I would love that, but, no, clothing is optional. However, you know I will fantasize about what is covered up."
They had not learned to play verbally with me. Again they were shocked.
Janet and I finally got our train ride scheduled. She warned me that she had to be home by nine. Some friends were dropping off two cats for her to care for while they went on a cruise. She invited me for breakfast at her house on the day of our outing. Denise seemed worried and distant. I waited for her to leave the room, "What is wrong with the daughter, today?"
Janet held her finger to her mouth and just pointed to a folded letter in the napkin rack on the table. I opened and read. Her law school was informing her that her last year had to be full time and that she had to agree to counseling to improve her interpersonal skills. Additionally, she had to bring her account current before she could enroll.
While the train rattled and puffed along the narrow gage track, Janet filled in more details. "Denise's classmates do not like to work with her on required joint projects; she is too opinionated and rigid. She has gone to law school part-time and worked full time for three years since graduating college. She is eight thousand dollars in debt and figures it will cost her forty thousand to quit work and go to school full-time until she finishes. It is another one of life's realities that she has to face."
"Let's enjoy our day. Tell me more about Denise later."
We walked, shopped and flirted all day – up the mountain and in the little town where the train turned around to come back down. We made out in a little park and were watched intently by a nine-year old girl. I think she was revolted by grown-ups kissing. When the last train was about to leave for the day, Janet had to run to the bathroom. I held on to her hand for a moment.
"Be naughty for me. Drive me crazy."
"When you go, take your panties off and bring them to me."
"I can't do that. I've worn them all day."
"I know that."
She pulled away. I had no idea what she would do. Maybe she was offended. Not everyone was as oral and turned on by taste and smell as I am.
She almost jogged back to me, using long strides. Her skirt flowed behind her. Her smile was wild and her eyes twinkled. When she hooked her arm in mine, I felt a tug at my windbreaker's pocket. There were dozens of people around us. I stopped and pulled out the warm, soft, damp, silky blue panties that she had been so careful to hide. She was frozen in front of me. No one else knew what I was doing. But she did. She quit breathing or blinking. Her panties were concealed in my cupped hands but to her they were waving to get the attention of everyone. I brought them to my face. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Slowly, I put them back into my pocket.
I was not lying, "Janet, help me onto the train. I feel dizzy."
The train was too full. We had to double up. I got the single seat in the back of the third car. Janet had to sit on my lap. The train jerked, rocked and rolled away from the station.
She leaned close and whispered, "Why did you do that with my panties?"
I whispered back, assuring my breath would tease around her ear. "Because I love the smell of you and the taste of you. Your body thrills me. You haven't let me make love with you. I want you. I used them to imagine how your pussy would taste, how you would move and how beautiful you would be in climax." I licked around her ear and sucked at her earlobe. She wiggled in my lap. She was quiet.
"Is she wet?"
Janet was slow to answer. Maybe I was pushing her too fast.
Her voice was pained and husky, "Yes. Very wet."