30 is the New 20 Ch. 01

I sat on the couch, curling one leg under the other, and he sat close enough that I could smell the body spray he was wearing. He handed me a controller despite my protests warning I wouldn't be very good. But he insisted I play with him. When I started crashing my virtual car into him and everything around us he laughed brightly, but it wasn't a teasing laugh. It was fun and I began laughing with him. Before long I began getting the hang of the controls and grew competitive. I don't know how long we played or how many beers we drank, but before I knew it the sun was down and I had no idea how late it was.

"What time is it?" I wondered aloud.

"Almost 10:30," he replied glancing at his phone.

I was suddenly cognizant of the fact that we were sitting so close it could have been defined as cuddling. "I should probably get home," I said, "But I need to pee first."

"Bathroom's right down that hall," he pointed.

The room spun a little when I stood and I couldn't remember how many beers I had, but his coffee table had at least eight empties on it from the both of us. I made it to the bathroom without tripping over my own feet and sat on the toilet after hiking my dress up. I remained there long after relieving myself in an attempt to clear my head, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind at once. Did he like me? Had he been flirting with me? Would he try to kiss me before I left? Was I completely insane and self-absorbed?

I thought of my ex-husband and how we had never done anything as simple as sit at home and play video games. He always had somewhere for us to go, people for us to meet. To him, a social life meant 'networking' and I couldn't remember a single time we sat at home and killed a twelve-pack of beer and talked all night. For a while I thought I was happy with him; I had a husband who was ambitious and made lots of money, but while sitting on Johnny's toilet I realized my husband and I never stopped to enjoy the little things; we never stopped to enjoy each other.

Washing my hands and looking at myself in the mirror, I realized I was a mess. I resolved to walk out of that bathroom, thank Johnny for a fun evening, and go home to masturbate. I was being silly and girlish thinking a nineteen year-old boy would have any interest in a thirty year-old divorcee, or that such a thing would be even remotely acceptable.

"Taylor, it's time to grow up," I said to my reflection, "You're not a teenager. You're not in college."

I took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom. Johnny was in his kitchen, standing in front of the sink rinsing our dinner dishes and putting them into a dishwasher. "Hey," he smiled easily when I appeared, as though we were long-time friends as comfortable as an old shoe with one another.

"Hey," I smiled back.

He rinsed his hands before drying them on a towel hanging beneath the sink, "Are you sure you have to go?"

I shook my head slowly, "No..."

He approached me, "No, you're not sure? Or... no, you don't have to go?"

I helped him close the gap between us until we were standing face to face, inches from each other, in the middle of his kitchen. "Sometimes I have no idea what I'm thinking," I admitted in a vulnerable tone, "Tell me what you're thinking, instead."

"I'm thinking the same thing I've been thinking since you handed me a glass of lemonade."

"Not enough sugar?" I joked, hiding my insecurities behind humor.

And then he kissed me. He ignored my anxieties, ignored the ten year gap in our age, and ignored the alarming fact that we had just met. I felt his hands graze the side of my face at the jawline and he kissed me with such confidence that it shattered my entire world. The kiss must have stunned me enough that my lips didn't respond with equal passion, because when his mouth left mine he looked at me as though he was gauging my reaction.

I was suddenly a teenager again as electricity buzzed through my lips and I couldn't breathe, like the kiss had been the first of my life. It took me a moment but I finally gathered enough wits to speak, "That's what you've been thinking about all day? Kissing me?"

He nodded.

"Do it again," I told him.

He did and I made sure to reciprocate. It wasn't long before we were overcome with passion and our hands were all over each other. I felt him lifting my skirt and grabbing where the tops of my thighs met my cotton-covered bottom. I was tugging at his tee-shirt and he lifted his arms, breaking our heated kissing long enough for me to pull the shirt over his head. I let it drop to the tiled floor as his hands returned to my thighs, lifting me into the air and setting me on the kitchen counter next to the sink. His lips tugged at mine as I helped him with my underwear, getting the panties as far as my knees and letting him pull them off my legs. I worked his belt free, glancing down only once to unfasten his shorts and take a gasping breath before shoving my tongue into his mouth and letting him suck on it.

My knees spread and my bare ass slid forward to the edge of the counter as his shorts pooled at the floor around his ankles. Reaching between us, my hand found his cock already erect. Johnny was circumcised and he had recently shaven his pubic hair because I could feel the stubble of growth tickle the backs of my fingers. Guiding him between my thighs I gasped against his lips when I felt his initial penetration. I let go of his erection but curled my ankles around his bare butt, encouraging him to have his way inside me. Johnny wrapped his arms around my torso, putting his full length in my sheath with each thrust. My palms went to the countertop to better brace myself against his pleasurable assault and our mouths finally parted. He started sucking on my neck and I tilted my head to accommodate him, letting my hair fall behind the ear.

Everything was happening fast; there was no foreplay and I hadn't wanted any. We simply fucked, for lack of a better description, on his kitchen counter. It was carnal and erotic, spontaneous and inevitable. For two glorious minutes all of the constant self-doubts rattling around in my brain were gone and I focused on the hungering need to have a man fuck the shit out of me, which Johnny did perfectly. For two minutes he thundered between my legs while his hands treated my body like a playground, groping me through my dress and clutching my legs around his hips.

I orgasmed in the first thirty seconds.

My gasps filled his kitchen and I clutched him around the shoulders, one of my hands pressing on the back of his head to let him know how good it felt to have him sucking on the soft, sensitive skin of my neck. Micro-explosions of pleasure radiated from between my legs and I held his young, firm body tightly against mine. It felt thrilling to let a nineteen year-old use my body that way; almost taboo.

Johnny's orgasm arrived ninety seconds after mine. My legs were curled in the air at his sides as his hands slid between my ass and the kitchen counter, his fingers digging into my soft flesh. He pulled out, thankfully, as I wasn't on birth control and we weren't using any form of protection. "Oh fuck," he gasped and humped against my bare mons. I kept an arm around his shoulders to hold us close but also reached down between us, took his slick cock into my grip, and masturbated him to completion. Thick globs of his ecstasy spilled out onto the upper part of my thigh and I could feel his body shudder against mine.

A moment passed as we both regained our breath and senses. I could feel his semen sliding down the inside of my leg.

"Sorry... I've never cum so fast in my entire life," he whispered in a breathless, embarrassed tone.

I wanted to laugh and tell him he was only a teenager; his 'entire life' had barely begun. Instead I stole his line, "Don't apologize." I nuzzled our noses and then kissed him hotly, showing him exactly how much I enjoyed what had just happened.

Johnny didn't want the moment to end. He guided my legs around his waist and picked me up, carrying me towards his bedroom. Had I been sober I doubt I would have let him take me to his bed, but if I had been sober we never would have had sex on his kitchen counter in the first place.

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I woke up with a firm, male arm curled around me and for the briefest of moments I thought it was my ex-husband's, but then I remembered where I was. When I sat up Johnny's arm slipped away limply and I noticed he was asleep beside me. Slivers of sunshine were peeking through closed window blinds and I wondered what time it was. I was naked, I had a terrible headache, and a knot of guilt over sleeping with my nineteen year-old neighbor the same day I met him was twisting inside my stomach.

Pushing a thin sheet away I slid to the edge of Johnny's bed and ran a hand though my tangled hair. An old digital clock/radio was sitting on the floor and told me it was 9:27am. The bedroom was otherwise barren, save for a few plastic laundry baskets filled with folded clothes. He didn't even have a dresser.

I desperately wanted some coffee, and aspirin, but decided peeing was a priority. Once inside the bathroom and on the toilet I began over-analyzing my situation like I had the night previous. How should I act? How would Johnny act? Did we just have a one-night stand? Was I simply a neighborhood MILF he wanted to bed once and then brag to his friends about? Could I even be a MILF if I didn't have children?

Or, could Johnny get clingy and suddenly think we were in a serious relationship?

Following my twenty minute anxiety attack in the bathroom I decided my best course of action would be to leave a non-committal note, go home, and avoid the entire situation by secluding myself for the next four years until Johnny graduated and moved away.

Creeping back into his bedroom I panicked on the inside when he wasn't there, but then I saw he left some things piled at the foot of the bed for me. My dress was there, neatly folded, along with my bra and panties. Next to it was a fresh bath towel, a new toothbrush still in its wrapper, and a packet of Advil inside a plastic cup. A little sticky-note read: 'Take your time, I'll make breakfast'.

I nearly broke down with tears. It was such a simple gesture but it was the sweetest thing any man had ever done for me. I was also embarrassed that I had been in the bathroom long enough for him to do it.

Back to the bathroom I went. I washed the Advil down with water from the sink, took a shower, brushed my teeth, fussed over my hair (which never did anything more than fall straight down the sides of my head), and finally got dressed. I also stood in front of the mirror for an extra five minutes fretting that Johnny would think I'm ugly without any make-up, but there was nothing I could do about that and I eventually gained enough courage to face him.

The kitchen smelled glorious and I found Johnny standing over a pan of bacon and scrambled eggs. A coffee pot on the counter was whirring and dripping with a fresh brew.

"Hey," he smiled in greeting.

"Hey," I smiled back, trying to act like I wasn't recovering from my self-imposed emotional roller-coaster ride. I noticed he was wearing the same pair of shorts he had on the night previous but nothing else. His leanly chiseled torso made me think of sex and I wondered if he made a habit of going shirtless.

"You're just in time," he removed some paper plates from a high cabinet, "The food's ready."

"Sorry I tied up your bathroom for so long," I apologized and explained, "Girl stuff."

He shrugged it off effortlessly while scooping some eggs onto the plates, "No problem. There are clean mugs in the dishwasher; help yourself to some coffee."

A smile crossed my face as I suddenly felt comfortable. Johnny had extinguished all my fears of a potentially awkward situation and he had done it seemingly without effort. He didn't make a single inappropriate comment about all the alcohol-fueled sex we had; he didn't get clingy or touchy; and he was a perfect gentleman. He seemed worry-free as we sat down, ate his delicious breakfast, and talked about things like the weather and current events. I learned he was a sports fan (aren't all guys?) and liked to ride 4-wheel ATVs in the desert. It sounded fun and he invited me to go riding with him some time, but didn't push for a commitment.

"I need a shower," he declared when we finished eating, "Feel free to hang out and have another cup of coffee."

"You only invited me for dinner," I joked, "I'm starting to feel like the guest that won't go away."

He rose and walked around to my side of the small table in his kitchen, "I like you, Taylor." When he bent to kiss my cheek I leaned my head towards him invitingly, "I feel like we could sit and talk all day."

He left it at that and went to take his shower. I sat at the table, frozen, wondering what my next move should be. Did he want me to stay, or was he simply being polite? I liked him too. More than I wanted to like a college freshman ten years younger than myself. He was sweet, kind, and put me at ease. It also didn't hurt that he was sexy as hell.

When I heard the shower start running I decided to throw caution to the wind. I rose from the table and walked down the hall, removing my clothing as I went. I was naked when my hand fell on the bathroom door handle and hesitated, but only for a moment.

His shower was encased in glass and I could only see his blurry image through the steam and condensation. Boldly, I opened the shower door to see him running his head beneath the water, his hands rubbing the stubble of hair on his scalp.

He turned at the noise and dimples appeared as he smiled brightly. "Hey," he greeted adorably, completely nonplussed by my appearance.

"Hey," I replied, "Is there room for one more in there?"

"Absolutely," he moved to allow me entry.

I stepped into the shower and smiled demurely at him, moving beneath the hot water and letting it spray against my face. I felt him behind me, his arms sliding around my tummy. I leaned back against him and tilted my head to let him suck on my neck, his erection growing obvious against my butt.

"You're so sexy," he whispered, moving his lips to my earlobe. His enticing nibbles sent shivers down my spine. One of his hands lowered to cup my sex. The other rose to squeeze one of my 36C breasts.

"You make me feel sexy," I murmured, leaning my head back against his shoulder.

His middle finger slid between my labia and I gasped pleasantly as he started to masturbate me with it. I laid a hand over his, pushing his palm against my pelvis to let him know he didn't have to be too gentle. It didn't take long before I was moaning and writhing in his arms, the shower water spraying against my torso and making our naked bodies slick against one another. I was on the brink of an orgasm when his hands suddenly abandoned me and he slipped around my side. I was about to ask him why he stopped when he knelt in front of me.

With gentle hands caressing my legs Johnny lifted his mouth between my water-beaded thighs and began pleasuring me orally. I sucked in a sharp breath and leaned back against the shower's load-bearing wall, which was covered in smooth tile. I needed the support; it was the first time any man had ever done that to me and I felt my knees go weak as soon as his tongue invaded my slit.

Lifting one leg, I propped it over his shoulder and curled my calf around the back of his neck. His head was trapped but Johnny didn't seem to mind. He fed from my sex hungrily, his tongue doing things to my clitoris that had never been done before - not even by a woman. I was practically sitting on his shoulder, the rest of my weight supported by the wall, as I began grinding myself against his face.

"Oh my god!" I cried, clutching the top of his head. The insides of my thighs quivered when I came and I worried about falling over, but Johnny supported my weight and clutched my hips to give me balance. He didn't stop; his constant licking and teasing of my clit was causing orgasmic fire to burn through my whole body. I could feel the sensations in my nipples and clutched my breasts as Johnny rocked my sexual world.

It rarely took long for me to have an orgasm, and I usually had no problem having more than one in quick succession if stimulated properly, but what Johnny was doing was different. I was experiencing a single, constant orgasm for at least a minute - maybe two. It was like every nerve in my body was being injected with a steady stream of liquid heat, all fueled by my pussy. It was amazing, euphoric, and when I finally came down from the rush I was dizzy.

I wanted to collapse into Johnny's arms, go to bed, and cuddle the day away, but I realized that would have to wait. He was hard, his cock like a rod of cement, and I knew he needed relief. I wanted to give it to him, too. I wanted to be his woman and I didn't want there to be any others.

We kissed passionately when he stood, the flavor of my orgasm pungent on his lips. I felt his erection stabbing between my legs so I reached down and aimed for him as our tongues danced. His mouth widened against mine when his insertion was complete and he let out a soft moan to communicate his pleasure. I felt his hands grab my butt, my back still against the tiled wall, and I lifted my feet off the shower floor to let him support me. My ankles curled around his waist and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he drove into me, his thrusts needy and powerful.

I came again, my delirious gasps echoing in his ear.

So caught up was I that protection never entered my mind. He grunted curtly and hammered into me with several staccato thrusts. I didn't realize what had happened until he stopped humping me.

"Did you just cum?" I asked with a delirious tone, more curious than worried.

"Yeah," he replied breathlessly, "I'm sorry. You felt so good... I couldn't control it."

I lowered my feet to the shower floor but continued to hold him against me, his erection softening inside my sheath. "It's okay," I tried to assure him, "We should be okay. I had my period last week and I don't think I've ovulated yet."

"That was incredible," he said, kissing me languidly, "So hot."

"I know... you eat pussy even better than a girl."

He laughed, "Thanks, baby."

I loved that he called me 'baby'. I wanted him to call me that forever.

"I've never done anything like this before," I said, reaching to turn off the shower water.

Johnny pulled out of me but his hands lingered on my naked body, holding me at my sides, "What, you mean have sex in a shower?"

I smiled, "No, I mean spontaneously have a weekend of sex with someone I just met. Plus, it's just that... you know - you're so young."

He escorted me out of the shower and wrapped me in a fluffy towel, "You're not that much older than me."

I gave him a frank look, "I'm almost thirty."

"So?" he shrugged indifferently, grabbing his own towel hanging from a hook, "Didn't you know? Thirty is the new twenty."

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I left shortly after our incredible sex in the shower, afraid of wearing out my welcome and scared to death of how quickly I was falling for a boy I barely knew; though Johnny didn't stray far from my thoughts.

Later that same day, a Sunday, I needed some general household stuff so I drove to the local Target department store. Pushing a cart filled with rolls of paper towel, cleaning supplies, and feminine products, I eventually found myself in the household appliances looking at toasters. Would Johnny prefer a two-slice model, I wondered, or would he like to be able to toast four slices at a time? I was staring at all the different models, trying to make up my mind on options and color, when I heard someone call my name.