Nothing in Common Ch. 02bysydney6385©
Thank you amerks29hockey for being an amazing editor and agreeing to work with me until my story is complete. I owe you!
When I woke up the next morning, I was sore all over. I wasn't really sure how I stretched underneath the sheets. But when I did, the smell of coffee wafted into the room. I rolled over. 11 Am. How long did I sleep? I immediately got up and looked for my clothes only to remember that everything was destroyed from the night before.
I quickly looked around for something else to cover myself when I found a gray robe hanging from the door. Wrapping myself in it, I noticed that the bed still had all its covers on it with a different colored sheet on top. That's when I remembered that we never fell asleep under the covers. He must have grabbed a sheet from somewhere and covered me with it. I smiled and headed straight towards the smell of coffee.
When I reached the kitchen, there was a cup next to the coffee pot and a plate of fruit. Bread was also out with butter next to the toaster. It was all really sweet and relief washed over me when I realized he wasn't there.
I wasn't really sure how this morning was going to be handled. I just had a one-night stand with an old professor of mine and while I had experienced the ‘go to bed and then leave' routine, I wasn't really sure what to do in this particular situation. It wasn't like I could leave. My car wasn't there and I had no clothes to put on. And it didn't seem like he was expecting me to go anytime soon with food and coffee out on the counter. But as I pondered this, relief was replaced by shocked when I noticed a white bag sitting on the island with a card and my name on it. A little hesitant, I reached for the card.
I got you some clothes since the others were useless. They should fit. I hope they're okay.
Just went to pick some stuff up. I should be back soon. Make yourself at home.
I placed my hand in the bag and pulled out a pair of jeans and a white v-neck tee. When I stuck my hand in again, I was a little shock to feel more clothes. Instead of pulling things out one by one, I decided it would work faster if I just dumped the bag. Tumbling out was a pair of brown linen pants and a white polo. On top of it all were two sets of lacy bras with matching panties, one pair white and the other a skin tone. Not only did he buy me clothes and under garments, but he bought enough so that I would have options. And I noticed his taste was very clean and neat. It was incredibly thoughtful.
Instead of changing, I placed all the clothes back in the bag and wandered around the house. Everything was neat and had its own little place. Obviously his manner of living reflected in his taste in clothes. He was neat and simple.
The house had three bedrooms and a study. His bedroom was simple with everything in light blue and chocolate brown shades. His bed was white with a brown leather headboard. The brown sheet on top that was used to cover me indicated what color he had when he changed his bedding. On the opposite wall from the bed was a very modern dresser with a simple mirror above it that covered the same amount of space as the dresser. There weren't any pictures though.
One of the other bedrooms was also decorated in simple colors and looked like it hadn't been touched in ages. Obviously a guest bedroom. The third bedroom had boxes in it and the study contained the typical materials – a desk and computer on one side and a bookshelf with an assortment of history books.
Of all the areas in the house, the living room was my favorite. The back wall was nothing but shelves full of mostly books and pictures here and there of what I assumed was friends and family. These weren't like the books in his study. They were all fiction and poetry. I was so engrossed in the different books he had on his shelves that I never heard him enter the house. I had pulled a book of poetry and was leaning against the shelves reading it when I noticed him standing in front of me.
I looked up, a little startled and smiled sheepishly at him. He looked gorgeous in his jeans and plain tee. I knew I looked like a mess in his robe and yet he was smiling at me.
"You know it's almost noon, John."
"Yeah, but you just got up." Obviously, I still looked it. He ran his finger down the fold of the robe.
"Did you not like the clothes I bought you?"
"No, I did. I just haven't changed yet. And you didn't have to." I was being polite even though I knew I would need something to wear. He did destroy all my clothes after all.
"What else were you going to wear, Charlotte?"
There was something in the way he was looking at me as he stepped closer. His hand hadn't left the flap and his fingers were slowly entering the inside of the robe.
"I'm actually pleased that you haven't changed now that I think about it. I prefer this robe on you."He pushed part of it aside to reveal my breast and flicked my nipple to life. "I think I would even prefer the robe opened," he whispered and pulled the tie around my waist, revealing my naked body underneath. He then wrapped his arm around me and underneath the robe, pulling me to him, and kissed me. The book that I had been holding in my hand fell to the floor.
I wrapped my arms around him as he pushed his tongue into my mouth and danced around. He placed both hands on my ass and lifted me up to him. I wrapped my legs around him to hold myself up and felt my back press up against the shelves.
"I'm not waiting Charlotte, so you better hold on."
He moved his hand in between us and quickly unzipped himself, pulling his cock out. It felt as if he was taking forever but in a matter of seconds, he was inside me. And he did waste no time. Hastily, he pushed in and out of me, bracing me against the bookshelves. Our mouths found each other again as all four of my limbs went to cling on to different shelves. This was not going to be like last night. This was going to be quick and rough against my backside. And it was making me come.
My toes began to curl and my grip on the shelves became strong. If it wasn't for the bliss that I was in, I would have been afraid of breaking the shelves with my hands. But I wasn't, nor did I care, and my orgasm shot through me like fire. I broke my lips from his as the sound of screaming ejected from my mouth. He leaned his head against my chest as he pushed his cock faster into me.
As my orgasm diminished, his flew through him and into me. He pushed a couple of times more before pulling me away from the bookshelves and bringing my feet to the floor. We stood there for a while, him leaning his arms against the book shelves around me, letting our breathing quiet. He was looking at me and smiling again.
"It was such a turn on to see you standing there in my robe."
I laughed at him. "And I thought this morning would be awkward." It obviously wasn't.
He looked at me a little confused. For a minute I thought he was worried.
"Why in the world would it ever be awkward?"
I just shrugged my shoulders. There were many reasons why but I wasn't going to spoil the moment. Unfortunately, my stomach did. It growled liberally, causing me to blush and John to laugh.
"You haven't even eaten, Charlotte. I should have known if you found the books, you'd become glued to them and forget to eat. You always had your head in a book."
He stood back, fixed himself, and held out his hand to help me up to him. I fixed the robe around my body and followed him to the kitchen. He moved around and fixed me a plate of fruit and a cup of coffee. As I watched him, I noticed the grocery bags sitting on the table. I never even heard him enter the kitchen earlier. But what shocked me more was how he remembered how much I was always reading in college. I had no idea he paid attention. Or how much I was always reading.
I don't really know how it happened but I blurted out the question that I had pondered earlier without actually thinking about it.
"John, how old are you?"
He stopped moving, his back still to me, and there was a long silent pause. He had even stopped pouring his coffee. Without turning around, I heard him sigh.
"I was hoping that my age wouldn't cross your mind. I'm 39."
He never turned to look at me or finish pouring his coffee. He just stood there in silence. Everything felt really heavy in the room all of a sudden. I could only guess that he was waiting to see if I was bothered by his age.
"OK," I simply stated and quickly began eating as if what I had asked was normal. While I didn't think the difference in years was as big as it really was, it didn't bother me. But I guess he wasn't expecting the answer that I gave him. He quickly turned around to look at me.
"OK?" He seemed deeply puzzled. I tried to play it off smoothly.
"What? I was just curious." I just smiled and continued to eat as he continued to look at me awkwardly. I was expecting the question to make things a little strange once I blurted it out. What I wasn't expecting was a retort question.
"How old are you, Charlotte?"
I stopped mid bite and looked at him awkwardly. While I knew that I had originally asked the question, I didn't think it mattered to him at all.
"I'm 25." I watched as he processed the difference in his head. "That's 14 years, John. Don't think about it too hard."
I smirked to show I was joking. He went back to pouring his coffee and I went back to eating. I noticed that I was out of coffee and got up to get more. I placed my cup down and before my hand could reach the coffee pot, John turned me around. He held me near him, his hands on my face. A couple of inches closer, and his lips would have been touching mine.
"Fourteen years is a big difference Charlotte. Now I know we just saw each other for the first time in years yesterday and this is not what anyone would probably consider a normal circumstance. And I know that we could never engage in a normal relationship. But I've enjoyed you. In more ways than I would have imagined. And I would love to continue to enjoy you if you wouldn't mind."
He stared at me, looking for an answer of any sort in my eyes. He was serious. And he was right. As much as we enjoyed each other, I knew it would never go anywhere. Despite the fact that I felt at ease in his house and that he was an absolute wonder in bed, I knew that we would never have a serious relationship. You couldn't base a relationship on a one-night stand. And we couldn't expect anything out of a fourteen-year difference. All there was to us was what we had now – sex.
"I know nothing can ever come out of this except for what it is, John. I'm okay with that. To be honest, I wasn't expecting anything else past last night." His faced dropped and then quickly went back to serious. Was he disappointed at my response?
"I do want to see you again Charlotte." There seemed more to him and he continued with hesitation. "Since my divorce, it's been lonely. I'm not expecting anything else, but your company. That's all I'm asking for."
His hands weren't tight on my face, giving me the opportunity to kiss him. It saddened me that this is all we would be. And I wasn't even for sure why it would. It was almost as if I was basing all my feelings on one night. But there was something comforting and inviting about being around him. Something that instantly made me feel right at home the minute I saw him in the bar.
I stayed with him until the following morning. We spoke once more of our situation, agreeing that we would keep each other company until the other found a more suitable partner. It wouldn't be a relationship. Just a ‘friends with benefits' situation. Aside from that only conversation, we engulfed ourselves in food, sleep, and each other.