Falling in Love with Erika

Note: There is a fair amount of character development in this tale, as it is a mostly true story of friendship and love that developed between a younger woman and a man who is twenty years older.

*

"Hey Sean, are you available?" It was my boss Janelle calling from next door. I was tempted to ignore her. It was late, it was Friday, and I wanted to simply get home.

"Yeah, Janelle, I'm here. On my way," I responded as cheerily as possible. As I turned the corner, I could see Janelle showing another woman some of the work I was doing for an upcoming exhibit at the small museum where we both worked. As for the other woman, I didn't pay much attention, until she turned around.

"Sean, this is Erika," Janelle said with a smile. She will be heading our new interactive children's initiative.

I know this is cliche, but at that moment I really was tongue tied. I had never seen such beautiful blue eyes. What was even more stunning, however, was the fact that those blue eyes beautifully, and incongruously, enhanced Erika's beautiful Latina features and coloring. She had to be wearing contacts, I told myself.

All of sudden I was embarrassed. I was frozen looking into Erika's eyes. They were warm and magnetic, but I realized that I must look like a perv to this much younger woman.

"Younger" was right. As for "woman," well that was a category Erika barely fell into. She looked 18, and couldn't be more than 22. There was something so sweet, and so strong, about Erika, and I was struggling to stay professional.

I couldn't help noticing that, in addition to being so much younger than I (at 40), Erika was also much smaller. She couldn't have been more than five feet tall, while I topped out at just over 6'4".

I also noticed that, in spite of her petite stature, Erika's breasts were gigantic, but then I quickly looked away, towards the ceiling, pretending to be deep in thought. I had never been obsessed with the size of a woman's breasts, but with Erika that all changed.

In the end, It was easy to have a friendly, professional, and innocent conversation with Erika. She was kind and, oddly, she was also interested in my planned upcoming exhibit. I found myself asking her so many questions about her background, training and professional goals. I was fascinated by her abilities, insight, and lack of pretense.

I wish I could share that Erika I soon became good friends, but that would be the stuff of fiction. She was almost 20 years younger than I was, and "good guys" of my chronology steer clear of young women. So, instead of becoming close friends, Erika and I ended up being friendly peers, and working on a few committees over the next few years.

Still, it was nice to see that Erika appeared to respect me professionally, and maybe even liked me as a person. (I assumed that I was probably close to her parents' age, and guessed that I was probably a nice old man in her eyes.) She was always so kind, and never failed to ask me questions about my work and my kids.

The day Erika left the museum, three years later, was a sad one. I couldn't help but feel I had missed out on something better with Erika. Perhaps it was only a deeper friendship. I was sure it wasn't romance. I was too old for this cute millennial.

Three years passed, and I moved a few hours away to take a director's position at another museum. My first day there my life was unexpectedly interrupted in the best way possible.

"Sean, I'd like to introduce you Raelynne and Erika. They will be working with you, serving as our liaisons with local school districts and other groups who visit the museum."

I didn't hear anything else that my new assistant Jon went on to say. I actually got butterflies in my stomach. Was I really getting a second chance to know Erika? I kept trying to push my feelings away, but I was losing the battle.

Erika's happiness to see me was shocking, to say the least, but it also wasn't helping my situation. I was like a deer in the headlights, thrilled to see that she was excited for me to join the museum as a new director. Her blue eyes sparkled, her smile was so sweet, and I felt like I was starting a journey that would take me home.

In the weeks that followed, Erika and Raelynne came to be the best friends I had ever known. Erika was so smart and kind, and Raelynne was hilarious. They both were loyal and supportive beyond anything I had ever known. We were quite the trio, doing everything together. Even outside of work.

I was falling hard and fast for my friend Erika, but I tried valiantly to be more of an older brother, or even an uncle type of friend to both her and Raelynne.

At dinner one night, I awkwardly asked them about their romantic hopes. Trying too hard to be an "older friend," I then offered my most sage (i.e., stupid) advice. It was truly awkward.

Raelynne said she was looking for someone like Erika and winked at her, and they both laughed uproariously. This was Raelynne's way of avoiding the topic. She hated talking about men and dating.

Erika quickly turned somber, though, and with discomfort, told us she wanted someone within five years of her age, who was also a "bad ass" with lots of money. My heart sank. I already knew I had no hope of being with her, but to be ruled out like that hurt. It also made me angry to hear that she needed a lot of money. This didn't even sound like the Erika I knew. I vowed to never talk matters of the heart with her again.

In spite of that awful evening, Erika and I actually grew closer. She was truly my best friend. Another co-worker even told me how amazing it was that Erika could connect deeply with me as a father figure. Ouch.

One Friday night, at our favorite dive bar, after Erika and I had downed a number of drinks, Raelynne informed the two of us that we were lucky to spend time with her, as we were both, "barely worthy," of being her friends. It was hilarious, but maybe this was due to the alcohol we had just consumed. Still, I swore I saw something more than friendship in Erika's amazingly blue eyes. My heart jumped into my throat and I had to change the subject fast.

"Umm, Erika?" I struggled to ask. "How much does it cost to buy colored contacts?"

Erika looked, confused, then pissed, and then relieved when I broke out laughing. "What the fuck?" she queried. "The blue in my eyes is real. My mom is Mexican, but my dad is Irish. Somehow the recessive genes won."

After more laughter, and a few more drinks, a sober, designated driving Raelynne ushered the two of us to the door. She took our money to pay for drinks and tip. Meanwhile we headed outside to wait for our long-suffering friend.

Walking out the front door with Erika, I was immediately embarrassed to find myself gawking at two lesbians who were making out in front of us on the sidewalk. "I'm assuming you enjoy some benefits in dating a dude that tall," the one woman said, winking at Erika. It was my turn to turn red.

I answered, without thinking, "I wish. We're just friends."

Immediately I felt humiliated. Erika now knew.

Thankfully, Raelynne exited the bar at that point, and shooed us to her car. The ride home was fairly quiet. Raelynne seemed to sense something big had happened. Thankfully, I was soon in bed asleep.

"Hi Sean!" I had hoped to sneak into my office without Erika seeing me.

"Good morning Erika," I answered. I was still embarrassed, but grateful that she was apparently still my friend.

Then, for the first time ever, I stared at Erika's tiny ass as she turned away. What was I doing? It was like the floodgates had opened. I started thinking about how her tiny ass contrasted beautifully with her huge breasts and cute, petite stature.

Somehow I pushed forward with my day. When I got home that night, however, things weren't so easy. I had always been so respectful of Erika. I was even protective of her. Yet now, here I was, alone on a Monday night, wondering what she would look like without her clothes on.

Entering the kitchen, I grabbed a couple cold beers from the refrigerator and headed to my bedroom. I locked the door, even though the kids were now away at college. Old habits die hard, they say. Alone with my thoughts, my mind wandered once again.

It was a hot night, and I quickly slid out of my clothes. Lying naked under the cool fan, lights off, I imagined Erika looking at me with her beautiful blue eyes, tan skin, red tinted brown hair, and that incredible smile. Then I started thinking about her breasts. I had never done that before. I felt a bit guilty.

Like I said, Erika is about five feet tall, but I was sure she needed at least a DD bra. Her breasts and curves, combined with her strong little arms, cute ass and incredible legs, were a combination that now consumed my mind with lust. I was on fire, giving way to long suppressed desire for this woman who had become my best friend.

In spite of my professionalism at work, I had seen a lot of the casual Erika in our time outside of work. (Without ogling.) Erika's "social clothes" were a lot less conservative than her work clothes. At work there was never a hint of cleavage to be seen, but on the weekends Erika was all about deep plunging tops, very short shorts, and amazing high heeled shoes.

I slid my hands across my own tall frame, tweaked my nipples and groped my cock.

My back arched just at the thought of Erika pulling her shirt off, and wiggling out of those short shorts. I had to work harder to fantasize after that, as I had obviously never seen Erika nude. As the clarity of the fantasy grew foggier, I went back to imagining that I was looking into those amazing blue eyes. I began to stroke my cock, longing to be with my best friend.

I was hard and ready that night, and I came very quickly. Immediately embarrassed following the short afterglow, I turned my TV on and watched an old episode of Cheers to take my mind off of things. Down deep, though, I felt I had betrayed Erika with a cheap masturbation fantasy, but I soon fell asleep.

"Why are you ignoring me, and why won't you look at me?" I looked up and saw Erika standing in the doorway to my office, a sad smile on her lips.

"What?" I weakly responded.

"Look," Erika went on, "You're my best friend, but sometimes I don't get you. What the f-" and then she stopped herself.

Erika had the mouth of a sailor, but she always tried to control it at work. I thought I saw her eyes grow misty for a moment, but she quickly turned and left.

"Fuck" I said aloud to no one.

I was letting my embarrassment get in the way of my friendship with Erika. If only I could tell her how I felt. There were understandable limits on what was proper to say since we worked together.

That's when my obsession to find a new job took hold. I realized there was basically no hope for romance, but she was my best friend and I couldn't keep anything secret from her anymore.

Later that afternoon, I called my old boss at the small museum back home where Erika and I had first met. I had been e-mailed the previous week about an assistant curator position they had open. (The hope was the I could recommend someone to them.) It was way below my experience level, but there aren't many positions available at my level.

Janelle, was shocked when she heard that I was interested in an assistant's job, but she assured me the board would want me back. I don't know if anyone has ever been as happy as I was to get such a job. It came with a loss of prestige and salary. So what? I was now free to tell Erika, if I could ever get the nerve to do so.

Erika and Raelynne began to tear up when I told them that I would be moving back home to my old museum. Then, on my way home, I called Erika. Slightly stumbling over my words, I lamely asked if she would want to meet and help me pick up some moving boxes. She quickly agreed to meet.

That evening, as I drove into the lot, Erika's car was already out in front of the "big box" store where we had agreed to meet. She looked so little, and she was inside of a tiny Toyota.

Walking over to her car, and then standing above her, I started to feel woozy. I looked down into the most happy smile. And, of course, those incredible eyes. If I was younger, I would have sworn she felt something for me, as well.

She was just so damn cute! Her hair was a mess, she had no make up on, and she was wearing a Batgirl baseball style shirt.

My heart jumped, and I blurted, "I'm so happy to see you."

It was a stupid thing to say, but it was so true.

My heart jumped again, when she said, "Well, I'm super happy to see you!"

We wandered the aisles of the incredibly boring store, and I complained about their prices for about 20 minutes. Erika finally grabbed my arm, which sent shivers through me.

"You know, it might be a good idea to look on Craigslist. People are always moving and getting rid of the boxes they used," she smugly stated.

"Do you have time to hang out for a while?" I almost begged.

Thankfully, she simply responded with, "Of course. Let's get a drink."

Lucky me. I needed a drink to say what I needed to say. Some people get drunk and say or do things they regret. Not me. I was going to drink to give me the confidence to do what my sober self already yearned to do.

We drove together in my truck, and upon entering our favorite dive bar, made our way to our favorite table. After some chit chat, I made my first foray into the topic I needed to discuss.

"Hey Erika, any progress with the internet dating apps?" I stupidly put forth.

I felt even more stupid when her face darkened. Shit. OK, moving on.

"Anyway," I continued, with residual trembling that alcohol couldn't kill, "I am jealous of whoever ends up with you." The bar was noisy, but I couldn't hear anything, except for inside of my own head, where there was a constant jackhammering of pounding blood.

Erika just looked at me with no response. I couldn't interpret the look, She was frozen, and I wasn't sure she got my implication.

"Seriously, Erika," I went on, "I would pursue you to the end of the earth if you let me." Then I paused. "I love you. I may have loved you forever."

We just looked at each other, and then her response almost gave me a heart attack.

"I love you, too," she said almost inaudibly .

It was almost too much to process, but somehow we made it outside, hand in hand, and headed for the river bank below the bar. Sitting on a bench, looking at the river, I draped my arm around Erika, and held her tight. In turn, she placed her legs over mine. She was so little compared to me. She was also, so, well, bendy. She was adorable, sitting there, enveloped in my arms. I simply kissed the top of her head and we sat in silence.

After who knows how long had passed, Erika simply said, "I really do love you."

They were simple words, but the emotion contained in their delivery now washed over me like warmth from the summer sun.

"Do you know how old I am?" I asked out of the blue.

"20 years older than I am?" she responded, unfazed.

"Almost." I responded with a bit of gloom.

"So stay in shape and don't die," Erika laughed.

And I kissed her. Again and again. Sucking on her sensuous, and wonderfully puffy, lower lip. She protested that she hadn't been kissed many times, and her mouth did feel stiff with fear, but soon we were passionately in sync. I sucked her little tongue into my mouth, and she slightly moaned. I wanted so much more, but this was not the place.

My desire for Erika was born in sobriety, but at this point in the evening our bodies were not fit for driving. The Uber app was our salvation, and we quietly held hands all the way to Erika's house. After the taillights of the Uber car disappeared, I leaned down to kiss Erika, but she still had to stand on her tip toes in order for us to have success.

"That's why my calves are so hot," she winked, "I am always using them to reach things."

My mouth caressed her neck, and my eyes could see down the back of Erika's shorts. Without even thinking, I slid my hand into her pants and caressed her ass.

"You touched my butt," Erika exclaimed in shocked wonder, but without any hint of negativity.

I simply responded with, "And, I'll do it again."

And, I did.

Erika's ass is so tiny, so cute. I just loved touching it, stroking it. All the while, I was kissing her with tenderness and love. Intermixed with a whole lot of growing lust.

My hands made my way under Erika's Batgirl shirt, but she pushed them away.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Erika. Did I go to far?" I asked with anxiety.

"No. I just hate my stomach," she answered with a bit of a trembling voice.

Shit. Erika is curvy, but I love her tummy and don't understand why modern society has the expectation that all women must look like androgynous sticks. It actually pisses me off, but my words of affirmation seemed to make no impact. Erika wouldn't budge in refusing to let me touch her stomach.

"One day," she promised, and then she totally shocked me by placing my hands back under her shirt and on her tits.

"These I have confidence in," she laughed.

My sadness about not being allowed to touch her stomach gave way to wonder as I was now holding the biggest tits I had ever touched. I am a big guy, but her breasts dwarfed my hands. My hands slid around to her back, and I traced every delightful curve, then pulled her close.

Erika sighed deeply, and then looked up at me with her sweet, innocent, little girl face, now tinged with sadness.

"I was 22 when you met me, and even though I am now over 30, I am still a virgin. I'm not ready to have sex. It scares me. I'm so sorry, but I'm not ready." Erika solemnly stated.

"OK," was all I could say.

I wanted her so badly, but I was never going to push her. I was protective of her heart and feelings, and would even go so far as to protect her from my own passion, if needed. Yet, I wanted to be honest once again about my feelings.

"I'll wait," I continued, trying to stay upbeat, "You should know that I want you so badly, and I'm ready whenever, and if ever, you are."

I held Erika's head tightly against my chest, and tenderly kissed the top of her head. I had never felt this much selfless love for any woman. My concern and love for her heart was even more powerful than the romantic love and lust that I felt.

As I finished out the last two weeks at the museum, I did nothing after hours except pack, talk, and make out with Erika. It was like being back in high school as we made out in the car, in her bedroom, and everywhere we possibly could. There was no actual sex, of course.

Erika was now my best friend and my girlfriend, in spite of our great age difference. Then, as our relationship progressed, and my love for her deepened, I started to notice that I was also developing the protective love of a parent.

It seemed weird, at first, feeling parental love for a woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Yet, I soon realized this love simply reflected my desire to always put Erika first. I cared more about her dreams than my own. I cared more about her career than my own. I wanted her to be happy more than I cared about my own happiness.

The summer was growing hot, and one night I suggested we get a hotel room. Erika's eyes popped open, and I knew she was feeling her old apprehensions about sex. In actuality, all I wanted was good air conditioning. When I told her about the AC she laughed like crazy. (Of course I also told her that I wouldn't turn down sex, if she asked for it.)

We brought a DVD player to the hotel and had a movie marathon the entire weekend. There was no sex, but there were lots of intimate moments, laughter and talking. We agreed to do it again after I moved.

Erika was sweet enough to take two vacation days to help me move back home. I vowed to have AC installed, but that wouldn't be for a while. Once we arrived, and had carried all the boxes into my new place, it was time to check in at a local hotel.