A Widower's Story Pt. 01

"Okay, fair enough. I wouldn't say I have a super interesting day. I get up and head to the gym, spend about an hour or so there, but you appear to know that already. Afterwards, I stop at the market if I need to; most days, I need to pick up something. Then at home, I make breakfast, then I write for a few hours. Then lunch..."

"Hold on. You don't get to drop a nugget like that and move on. You write? What kind of writing do you do? Anything I might have read?" She leaned forward and apparently had lost interest in her coffee beverage.

"I doubt you've read any of my writing. It is mostly speculative fiction, which is a fancy way of making Sci-fi/Fantasy sound literary. I self-publish e-books. I don't spend time marketing, so I don't sell much, but I write mostly for myself."

"Just because I have a pretty face doesn't mean that I am not a bonafide geek girl and none of that Meyer's crap either. I've read Jordan, Martin, Eddings, Sanderson, Goodkind, Hobbs, and Tolkien; thank you very much!"

"What did you think of Jordan?" Ryan had to admit that she was approaching the perfect woman benchmark if she had read all of those authors.

"Don't change the subject. Your day may continue... but I expect you to forward me a link to something you have written. Then we can talk about Jordan." She waved her hand for him to continue.

"Okay, okay. I write for a bit. Then lunch. After that, I will usually putter around the house, everything in its place, you know. Though, to be honest, the puttering is usually just to kill time and let my stomach settle from lunch because I like to go for a run in the afternoon. Sometimes I will take a kayak out, but usually, I do a short run. I sign up for a few 5k races every year and like to keep my endurance up, so I run between 4 and 5 miles a day. I'm not super fast. I don't focus on beating others or anything like that; I like to set my own goals and focus on that."

"What is your current time? I like to run, too."

"My last 5k was 32 minutes. I would like to break 30 minutes."

"Not bad. I have settled in at about 39 minutes for my last two races. But, to be honest, even the best sport's bra can only keep these girls in place so well, after a while, I am fighting against my boobs and not the miles." At the mention of her breasts, Ryan's eyes drifted down to admire her display of cleavage. When his eyes came up, he discovered that she was staring at him and smiling. "Caught you looking. It's alright. I picked out this dress to draw your attention. It's working, and that makes me happy."

"Well, anyway. After my run, I soak in a hot tub for a bit, shower, supper, then I either read for a bit, sometimes I'll watch a movie, or even play a video game for a bit. Then sleep and repeat." Ryan concluded. Part of him hoped that he had outlined a boring enough life to end this farce; another previously silent part hoped that she would find him a bit interesting.

"You skipped something interesting points like the hot tub, what you like to read, watch, and play. I am also noticing a lack of female companionship. Does that mean that you are currently super single?"

"Super single?"

"Some folks are single but are dating. I call them kinda single. Super single people are not dating at all. I, myself, am currently super single. I don't do meat markets. I have developed very high standards."

"But you were on that dating app? I can't imagine you find many men that meet... well, any standards on that."

"True. But I did find you, didn't I? But your question is fair. My friend Emily, she is the one I go to the gym with - she has long red hair and likes to dress super skimpy when she works out. I'm sure you've noticed her," she paused, looking at Ryan to have a moment of recognition. He shook his head apologetically. "She is not going to like that, ha. Half the time, she was trying to get you to notice her. That's hysterical. Anyway... Emily is the one with the account; she was sliding through trying to find a date for a party when she saw your profile and freaked out. When she showed me, I created a profile so I could chat with you."

"What? Why? I don't get it?"

"Well, to be honest, I have been admiring you for a long time now, and believe it or not, I am pretty shy most of the time."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I am also pretty driven about getting what I want; that supersedes the shyness most of the time. So, I've been working up the nerve to say something but the ring is kind of a warning sign. So, when you showed up on the app, well, that was a signal of sorts."

"Thus the bet on whether or not I was really single or if I was another scumbag."

"Right."

"Who won the bet?"

"At this point, I will say that I am the one who won. But then again, I think you'll be coming out a winner, too." She licked her lips without breaking eye contact with him and laughed when his cheeks began to color. "So, I've watched you from afar; your profile gave me the excuse and the means to do something about it. Thus, here we are."

"You know, I just realized that I don't know your name yet." Ryan used the question to fill the silence as his brain worked through the fact that this very attractive, much younger woman was flirting with him.

"I think you've earned that much. Cynthia. Cynthia Smart."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Cynthia Smart."

"Likewise, Ryan McLennan."

"Wait, I didn't tell you my last name."

"Confession, I may have cyber-stalked you a little before our date. A girl has to be careful; there are some weird guys out there."

"You're not wrong, and I forgive you. Learn anything interesting in your cyber-stalking?"

"Not much, to be honest. Your socials are locked up pretty tight; otherwise, I would have known about your wife ahead of time. I didn't know you had retired, but I did know that you had a pretty good career in various technology roles - developer, architect, project management, and instructor. It was interesting because it lined up with what I do. I work in social media marketing as a consultant for small and medium-sized companies. Those that don't want to staff their own folks but recognize the need to have a presence."

"Do you like the work?"

"Yes, I get to be creative, work in technology, and be of real help to my customers. It doesn't hurt that I don't have to go to an office or punch a clock. I pretty much make my own hours; it gives me a ton of freedom. The risk is high; at this point in my life, that is okay, thrilling even."

"Technology adjacent career, reads fantasy (maybe sci-fi), works out, and likes to stalk strange men. What are the other interests of Cynthia Smart?" Ryan couldn't help himself; he wanted to know more about this woman. He stopped himself from laughing when he realized that he was being drawn into her web.

"Let's see. I do read little sci-fi, though I would say I prefer space opera over the hard stuff... well, hard science fiction, I do enjoy other hard stuff a great deal. I like movies, not just a specific genre; I think I could find something to enjoy in any genre. I do enjoy working out, I like being outdoors, but I prefer indoor activities. I love board games, not just the classics like Clue or Monopoly, but the big box ones like Twilight Imperium, Descent, and Gloomhaven. In high school and college, I played D&D. These days I, find it hard to get into a good group. I like the idea of traveling, but in the end, I prefer to stick close to home. Oh, and I like sex. I really like sex." She placed a hand on top of one of his. "Do you like sex?"

Ryan coughed and felt the heat rise in his face, along with a stirring from below the belt. "Well, um, yes. I would have to say I do."

"When was the last time you had sex?" She lifted her hand and traced random patterns with her fingertips across the back of his hand.

"Oh, that would have been almost six, no seven years ago." Ryan and his wife had been highly sexual people; it had been frustrating when her drive seemed to disappear overnight. That had been the trigger that sent them to the doctor for all the tests that had found the tumor that had ended her life.

"That is a very long time. I haven't had sex in just over three years." Ryan sputtered at this revelation. "Not what you were expecting? Well, as I mentioned before, I am very picky. Or I should say, I am now very picky. But just because I haven't had someone in my bed for three years doesn't mean that I haven't been exploring my needs in other ways. Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Explored your sexual needs in ways other than having sex with another person?"

"You mean masturbation? Sure, I still do that on occasion." Why was he telling her this; he would never imagine that masturbation would be a typical subject for a first date.

"When was the last time you took care of business?" Her fingers had drifted up his hand to his wrist; she had moved her chair to be closer so her hand could reach his forearm.

"I don't know, maybe a month or so." Of course, it had been closer to two months, but lines had to be drawn somewhere, right?

"Do you watch porn? Or do you play out memories or fantasies of your own when you touch yourself?" Ryan looked around the cafe to see if anyone was close enough to hear their conversation. Best as he could determine, they were far enough away from the closet customer, a woman with her teenage daughter chatting intently.

"A little of both, I suppose," he admitted.

"Ooh, what kind of porn do you like? Do you go for the daddy step-daughter stuff?"

"No, nothing like that." If he was honest, the fake-incest stuff was a massive turn-off for him. "I guess I just find something that I like in the moment, so a range of stuff pops up."

"I'm sure it does. I don't like the family stuff either; I can't see why it is so popular. Or the whole "I'm stuck in the bed, or the couch trope. Stupid if you ask me. Then again, porn isn't about the story, is it? I watch it sometimes when I touch myself." She ran her fingers up and down his arm, elbow to wrist, her long fingers barely touching his skin. The hairs on his arm stood up; he felt more than a stirring in his shorts. Ryan had been caught off guard and wasn't sure why. His inbox had been flooded with messages more direct and detailed than this, and it wasn't as if he and his wife hadn't been open with each other sexually. They watched porn together, skinny-dipped, had sex in public, used toys, role-played, and enjoyed each other. Now here he was feeling, like an inexperienced nerd touching a breast for the first time.

"When was the last time you touched yourself?" Ryan attempted to turn the tables on her.

"Last night, no porn. I did use a toy. I fantasized about you, wondering what it would be like to be in your arms, having you kiss me, touch me, pleasure me. I thought about the things I would do to you, too. Would you like to hear what I came up with?" So, much for turning the tables. Ryan had no idea what had just happened or, more importantly, why it was happening. The age thing hit him again. He was old enough to be her father; she was bolder and more aggressive than any woman he had ever met. Even his wife, who had been more the aggressor in the early days of their relationship, had waited a few weeks before confessing sexual desire for him.

"I think that can wait for now."

"Pity, I came up with some good stuff."

"You will have to excuse me, this is all really new for me, and I am having a hard time processing."

"New? Do you mean having a woman tell you how much she desires you? Or that she wants to please you? Listen, Ryan, I am coming on pretty strong. I know that. The thing is, I have had a thing for you for a long time, three years or so. I'm not sure why, either. One day you held the door for me when I was entering the gym, you smiled, and it just lit up my world. I had been having a bad couple of weeks; you just smiled and made it all disappear. You didn't leer at me or try to chat me up. You just smiled and held the door, didn't even say a word to me. Every time I see you at the gym, I feel this weird connection, like we were in the same orbit, and it was only a matter of time until we crashed into one another. I don't know what it all means, but I can say sitting across this table chatting with you has been the best first date I have ever been on, and I am so attracted to you that it almost hurts."

"Wow," was the only thing Ryan could say. He was both flattered and concerned that this young woman had piled a bunch of expectations onto an image of him that may not exist.

"I binged this show, How I Met Your Mother... Now don't get ahead of yourself," Ryan had been about to interrupt her. "Anyway, in like one of the first episodes, the main character goes on a first date, they have an amazing time and then tells his date that he loves her, right before they have sex. Of course, that killed the mood; who says something like that on a first date? You don't know anything about the other person; love doesn't happen like that. So, I want you to know that I am not saying that I love you or that I think I do. I am horribly attracted to you; I want to take you to my bed in the worst possible way. But that is a physical thing. I am also very interested in getting to know you. I have no idea where that leads, but there it is. So, you gonna let me rock your world?"

Ryan couldn't help but laugh. He had seen the show and agreed with her assessment. He was also glad that she wasn't crushing so hard that she was going to throw the word love around. "I think I would really enjoy letting you 'rock my world'"

"I hear a but coming... if it is the age thing, that is not a problem for me. It is only a number. I also..." Ryan held up a finger to stop her.

"There is a but, not the age thing, though we will need to talk about that. The but is simple this. I am a bit old-fashioned. Even in my younger years, I never slept with anyone on the first date or the second, for that matter. It is a respect thing. For myself and my partner."

"How many dates are gatekeeping me from all your tastiness?"

"Let's see. The last woman I had sex with, well, we waited a month before jumping into bed with each other." Ryan wondered if this would cause Cynthia to reconsider her infatuation. Instead, the breath-taking woman that sat across from him smiled in a way that made him want to take back his last sentence and take her back to his home right then.

"You know what they say about good things... they come to those that wait. So make it two months; I want you to be extra certain."

"Two months of hanging around with this old fart, I am sure you will want nothing more than to find some young stud to shower your affection on to."

"What did we say about that word? Last warning Mr. McLennan, I would hate for us to have our first date and first heated disagreement on the same day."

"Ah, yes. I apologize. It slipped out. Turn of phrase and all of that."

"Good, see that you do better in the future. Just a couple of little notes about the next two months. Don't think that you can avoid me; I expect that we will see each other several times a week and be prepared to be teased like you have never been teased before. It also goes without saying, no touching yourself." She grinned at him and licked her lips again.

"I think that should go for you, too," said Ryan. He had no idea how hard the next two months were going to be.

***

Two days after his first date with Cynthia, Ryan found himself back at the gym working off a new version of stress. After their drinks were finished, Cynthia had taken his phone and entered her personal contact information, claiming that she didn't have a lot of trust in the dating app's privacy. She used his phone to upload his contact information to her phone and declared that they were officially connected. She ran off for errands and a business call; he salvaged the rest of his day by skipping his run and binging half a season of How I Met Your Mother, simply because she had mentioned it to him. That wasn't where the stress was coming from. He was actually enjoying having her in his thoughts and imagining having her in his bed. He thought there should be more guilt involved with how easily he pictured Cynthia in various states of undress, but the guilt never presented itself, and that is what troubled him. Just before he had called it a night, he received a text from her.

I am getting ready for bed and wanted to say goodnight before getting caught up in my routine. I've been thinking about you all day, and I am SOOOO glad that we went out today. The message was followed by a pair of heart emojis.

O... I promise to be a good girl and not touch myself. Here is a little something to think about as you head to bed. A moment later, a picture appeared. It was a picture in silhouette displaying only the outline of her body posing in a doorway. Ryan had no trouble noticing that she was nude in the image.

Good night, Cynthia. You've defiantly given me something to think about. Ryan responded.

No, touching yourself!

I'll be good.

A Kissy face emoji was the last text he received that night. The following day he found that she had already sent him a message. Another picture. This of a floral quilt with a sapphire blue bra and a matching pair of boy short panties. It was hard being good last night, but I managed. No, gym for me today. I have a meeting with a client. I will be wearing these and thinking of you. I wonder how wet I will get?

No gym for me either. I've got a family brunch. Ryan typed out the message and hit sent. He was surprised when a reply appeared almost instantly. He would have thought she was too busy to check her phone.

Are you going to tell them about me? I was saving this for later, but it could give you something to show off. A picture loaded of Cynthia standing in front of a fountain. She was dressed in jeans and a loose blouse. Her eyes were hidden by a pair of sunglasses. Her smile split her face radiating her joy frozen in a single moment. It was taken when I was visiting a friend in Florida last winter. I don't mind if you show me off to your family.

I don't think I will get away with not mentioning you to them; after all, my son created the profile you found.

Remind me to thank him. Gotta run, have a fantastic day! A chain of emojis followed the message. Ryan would have to do a little research to figure out if there were any hidden messages buried in the symbols besides the kisses and hearts.

Brunch had gone about as well as expected. He told Dan and Rose that he had gone on a date with someone he met on the app. No, they had not slept together. Yes, they would see each other again. Ryan was reluctant to share details beyond those and certainly not the picture. When asked what she looked like, Ryan replied. "A little shorter than your mother, blond, blue eyes, and I would call her pretty."

That last bit was on the border of a lie, and he felt terrible about that, but he didn't want to put himself through the barrage of questions that would come if he had said, "A little shorter than your mother, blond, blue eyes, and quite possibly the most gorgeous woman I have ever set eyes on." When he was helping Rose clean up the dishes, he heard his phone chime a notification of a new message. He checked the message and almost dropped the phone into the sink of soaking dishes.

Cynthia has sent him a picture. It was a shot of her cleavage. The lighting was good, giving him incredible detail of her smooth skin and the brilliant blue of her bra, the same one that she had sent a picture of earlier that day. For the rest of the day, he received a steady stream of images. Nothing was fully exposed, but each and every one was titillating. No words or messages, just the pictures. He spent the majority of the day fighting his ever-present erections.