Invitation to Paradise

To his disappointment, he didn't see anyone he recognized and began to wonder again if it had been a practical joke. The photograph, which had done much to convince him otherwise, could just as easily been taken off the Internet. Somewhere, perhaps even from a place where she might be able to see him, Maureen was probably having a good laugh.

Just then, his phone again chimed and once he retrieved it, he saw that it was another message from Maureen. Opening it, he fully expected it to say something along the lines of "gotcha."

Instead, he found a text that said, "Back booth, off to the right."

Bradley looked again at what he'd initially thought to be an empty row and now saw that there was indeed someone sitting in the very last booth. With the way the sun was coming in from the opposing side, she had blended into the shadows when he'd first looked. As he walked down the aisle, he intentionally looked straight ahead, ensuring that he wouldn't see who she was until he reached the last table.

"Maureen?" he said as he turned around to face her.

"That's me," the gray-haired woman said as she looked up at him, adjusting her glasses in the process. "I do hope that you're not too disappointed."

"No, not at all," Bradley said, even though he did feel slightly so.

"I'm glad," Maureen said with a smile as she gestured to the empty half of the booth. "Please, have a seat."

As Bradley did so, the waitress responsible for the section, Alice according to her nametag, appeared as if by magic and asked what she could get him. Seeing that Maureen already had a cup of coffee sitting in front of her, he ordered the same.

"Be right back," the young blonde said as she dashed off.

Certain that she would be, Bradley and Maureen merely smiled at each other, not wanting to start a conversation that would be interrupted before it could even get started. Sure enough, Alice was indeed back in a minute, placing a mug in front of Bradley, which she filled from the carafe in her other hand. Afterward, she topped off Maureen's drink as well.

"Can I get the two of you anything else?" Alice asked.

"No, we're fine," Maureen said.

"Okay, but if you need me, just give me a wave," Alice said before heading back toward the counter.

"So, here we are," Maureen said once the girl was out of earshot.

"Yes, we are," Bradley agreed, unsure, now that he was actually here, what to say.

"I have to confess, when you didn't show up on time, I was worried that perhaps you'd had a change of heart," Maureen said, "or perhaps that my photograph might have scared you away."

"No, the traffic was just heavier than I expected," Bradley replied, not commenting on the photograph.

"And now?" the older woman inquired, taking a slip of her coffee as she did so.

"I don't understand," Bradley said, leaving his untouched.

"Now that you've seen me, are you having any second thoughts?" Maureen clarified.

"Why would you think that?" Bradley asked, not really answering the question.

"The look on your face when you first saw me," Maureen explained. "I got the impression that you were hoping to see someone else."

Bradley didn't reply, but again his expression spoke volumes.

"Who was it?" Maureen inquired. "Oh, don't worry, I won't be offended. I'm just curious, that's all."

Bradley took a moment, then described the brunette in the red top and black skirt who had ordered the steak and broccoli. As he did so, he wondered what Maureen's reaction would be, never guessing that it would be amusement. She didn't actually laugh, but it was clear that she found it funny.

"Forgive me," she said she again became serious, "I really shouldn't have reacted like that. Adele is a lovely woman and I can see how you could be taken by her."

Bradley had the feeling there was a but in there somewhere. Sure enough, it followed a short breath later.

"But I'm afraid that if she had been the one sitting here," Maureen continued, "you'd have been sorely disappointed. Adele's tastes run in a somewhat different direction - she prefers girls."

'Ain't that the story of my life,' Bradley thought. 'Six women at that table and I pick the lesbian."

"Still, since you did sit down and haven't yet made an excuse to leave, might I assume you you're not too disappointed?" Maureen asked. "I'll be honest, I was a bit worried that you'd think I was too old."

Actually, if Bradley had taken the time to think about it, he might have decided that everyone at that table was too old. Although if he'd done so, he wouldn't be here now. That was, he realized, probably the reason he avoided thinking too much about it before.

"How old are you?" Bradley heard himself say, realizing as he did that it wasn't something that he should ask and apologized.

"There's no need to apologize," Maureen smiled, "I've never been one of those women who hide their age. I'll be sixty-two next month."

'Fuck,' Bradley thought as he repeated the number in his head, 'my grandmother is only fifty-nine.'

"But as the pundits say, sixty is the new forty," Maureen laughed.

Bradley smiled at the joke, but couldn't help but think that it wasn't too long ago that he thought of forty as old as well.

"But seriously, age is really just a number, a record of how long you've lived," Maureen pointed out. "There are people who are old at fifty and others who are still young at seventy, at least in spirit, and after all, that's what really matters, isn't it?"

Bradley wasn't sure he agreed with that, but Maureen was certainly shattering his concept of what a woman in her sixties was supposed to be. Back in the restaurant, he'd seen her gray hair and immediately thought 'old'. Now, her short, steel gray hair was almost sexy in a way. Her facial features were those of an older woman, but one at least a decade younger. With the table between them, he really couldn't see much of her body, but in his mind's eye he superimposed the photograph she'd sent over it. What he wouldn't realize until later was that she was also almost two inches taller than him.

"How old are you?" Maureen asked, pushing the conversation forward.

"I'm twenty," he replied, adding, as if it made a difference, "I'll be twenty-one in January."

"That's a nice age," Maureen smiled. "I have a grandson who's nineteen."

"How many grandchildren do you have?" Bradley found himself asking almost as a reflex as he tried to wrap his mind around the discrepancy in their ages.

"Well, I have four children, a son and three daughters," she replied, expanding the question, "and between them I have nine grandchildren."

"Is your husband..." Bradley started to say, noticing the ring on Maureen's left hand.

"I'm afraid he passed about ten years ago," she said, anticipating the rest of his question. "I still wear the ring out of remembrance.

"I'm sorry," was all Bradley could think to say.

"Thank you," Maureen replied. "But you really didn't come here to learn about my family, did you?"

"No, I guess not," Bradley replied.

Maureen looked back over her shoulder, making sure that the two booths behind her were still empty and that their waitress was taking care of someone else. Then she continued.

"I've always felt that life was meant to be lived and not simply marked off like days on a calendar," Maureen said, getting to the heart of the matter, "and sex is a part of life, one that I've always loved. It didn't take long after I lost Bruce for me to realize that, unlike many women in my situation, I wasn't about to embrace a life of celibacy. A decision that I know my husband would've agreed with. I waited an appropriate interval, of course, but soon enough, men began to make their way into my bed."

Bradley's own grandfather had died about six years ago, and as far as he knew, his grandmother had never sought out the company of any other man in all that time. Then again, he had no idea if his grandparents had still had a sex life, even before his grandfather passed away, the question not having been something he'd ever thought about. Hell, it was hard enough imagining his parents still having one. Listening to Maureen now, however, he had to wonder why that was.

"But I'm sure that you're more interested in how my preference for younger men came about," Maureen smiled, "so why don't I just jump ahead to that?"

That was indeed what Bradley had been wondering but couldn't think of a way to ask.

"It was the night of my youngest daughter's wedding reception," she began. "As sometimes happens at events like that, I had a bit too much to drink. I wasn't drunk, mind you, but tipsy enough to need a ride home. I was just about to call for one when one of my daughter's college friends, Timothy Farrell, offered to drop me off on his way home. Seeing as he only lived a few blocks away from me, I graciously accepted."

"How old was he?" Bradley interrupted.

"He was about your age, or maybe a year or so older," Maureen replied, then continued, "So, Timothy took me home, and I asked him if he would be kind enough to make us some coffee while I cleaned up. Now, like I said, I wasn't drunk, but still, I'd had enough to lower my inhibitions a bit. Well, maybe more than a bit, and you know what they say about sex and weddings."

Bradley had indeed heard that weddings were supposed to be great places for hooking up, but he'd been to three weddings in the last year and that hadn't been his experience.

"I'd like to say that I masterfully seduced the young man," Maureen grinned, "but the truth is that I simply stripped naked and walked in on him. I'd seen it in a movie once and it seemed to make as much sense as anything else. I don't know if Timothy secretly had a thing for older women, or he was just horny enough to fuck one, but it didn't take much encouragement to have him follow me up to the bedroom."

Again, remembering the photo on his phone, Bradley didn't think it had.

"Well, I don't think I need to go into great detail of what happened afterwards, but I'll tell you that Timothy didn't make it home until the next morning," Maureen smiled.

From the glow on her face, Bradley surmised that even if she hadn't voiced the details, Maureen was certainly recalling them in her mind.

"I had a revelation that night, well, maybe more than one," she continued to smile, "but the one that applies here was that sex with a younger man was simply amazing. I know it sounds cliché, but he made me feel young again. You can't help but take youth for granted, because that's all you know, but trust me, when it's gone, you'll do almost anything to reclaim it."

She paused for a breath, then added.

"And since that night, I've shared my bed with a number of young men, all of legal age of course, but not always age appropriate as far as society is concerned. "

"And you just leave guys notes and ..." Bradley started to ask.

"No, no ... not at all." Maureen interrupted. "Contrary to what happened this afternoon, I'm really not in the habit of picking up strange young men. Sometimes, however, I encounter someone who I find myself strongly drawn to, so much so that I just feel compelled to take a chance. Most of those, I'll admit, don't always work out as I might wish, but as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"You're saying you felt drawn to me?" Bradley asked.

"Well, we're here, aren't we?" Maureen grinned.

"Why?" Bradley asked. "I mean, what was it about me that made you feel that way?"

"I'm sure you'll find it silly," Maureen replied, "but you really remind me of my husband when he was younger. The resemblance is remarkable."

For a second, Bradley considered responding with something flip, something along the line of he must've been a good-looking guy, but then thought better of it. Instead, he just took everything she'd said in and considered what to do next.

"So, what do you think?" Maureen asked after allowing him a few more minutes to do just that.

"Think of what?" Bradley replied.

"Of us, of course," Maureen said. "We've been sitting here for, well, more than a half hour - plenty of time for you to have decided what you want to do."

"I'm not sure," Bradley replied.

"It's a simple choice really," Maureen posed. "We can pay for our coffee and then walk across the street to my apartment, or you could get up and leave, forgetting this conversation ever happened. It's up to you."

She was right, it really was a simple choice, but one that was proving elusive. Another minute passed as Maureen sipped at her drink, waiting for him to decide.

"You know, it's possible that you've already made your decision but you just don't realize it yet," Maureen finally offered. "Sometimes you just have to go with what you're feeling."

"And how am I supposed to know what I'm feeling?" Bradley asked.

"Maybe by asking yourself a simple question," Maureen replied.

"What question?" he inquired.

"The same one I asked you on the phone earlier," Maureen said, a broad smile on her face. "Is your cock hard?"

-=-=-

Maureen hadn't been kidding when she said that she lived right down the block. In fact, by fate or just coincidence, Bradley had parked his car right in front of her building. She lived on the third floor of a four story walk up and, as they climbed the stairs, Bradley was thankful they didn't encounter any of her neighbors, thinking that might be awkward. Maureen, however, didn't seem the least bit concerned by the possibility.

Along the way, Maureen mentioned that she had moved to the small multi-family building shortly after the wedding she had mentioned before. With all of her children grown and out on their own, the house was too big for her needs. Besides a new life deserved a fresh start.

Letting him in before her, Bradley saw that the apartment, which consisted of just three and a half rooms, was impeccably furnished. From the entranceway he could see all of the living room, which was dominated by an L-shaped couch situated in front of a large flat screen television. Also, from his vantage point, he could see parts of the kitchen and a bit of the bathroom, the door to which was only partially closed. Additionally, there was a fully closed door at the far end of the room, which he assumed led to the bedroom.

"Would you like a drink?" Maureen asked once she'd closed the door and stepped into the living room aside her guest.

Bradley considered it for a second, thinking that it might make him a little less anxious, but then declined.

"Are you sure? It might help you relax," she added, having picked up on his ill-ease.

"No, I'm good," Bradley insisted.

"Well, how about a blow job then?" Maureen offered.

"Err ... sure," Bradley replied after a stuttering pause, taken aback more by the casualness of the question than the subject.

"Excellent," Maureen smiled as she made a gesture towards the door Bradley had noted before, "The bedroom is right through there, so why don't you make yourself comfortable while I use the bathroom first? I was actually on my second cup of coffee when you arrived and, well, you know."

As he headed in the direction she'd indicated, Bradley was thankful that he'd barely touched the coffee in the diner. He was anxious enough without it.

Maureen's bedroom was simple in design, with matching night tables on either side of a twin sized bed. A larger dresser rested against the far wall, with a small twelve-inch flat screen hanging over it. As he sat down on the left side of the bed, a photograph on the night table caught his attention. Taken on a beach, it featured a twenty-something couple in swimsuits and, as he picked it up to get a better look, Bradley realized that it was Maureen and her late husband.

'Damn, I really do look like him,' Bradley thought as he focused on the dark-haired man in the red shorts.

When Maureen had said that he reminded her of her late husband, Bradley thought that, as most, they probably had the same dark hair and maybe similar builds. Yet the man looking back at him resembled him so closely that Bradley could almost imagine he was looking at a brother he'd never had.

Bradley was so surprised that it took almost a full minute to shift his attention to the bikini clad beauty standing next to Bruce. A younger version of the woman he was about to go to bed with, she was certainly a looker back then. Then again, considering her age, she was still a bit of one now.

Putting the photograph back on the table, Bradley noticed the small inscription in the lower right-hand corner - Redondo Beach 1979. Doing a quick calculation in his head, he saw that he had been right in his estimates of their ages.

It also occurred to Bradley that he was spending too much time on the photograph. Maureen had told him to make himself comfortable, but as he sat there on the bed, he wasn't quite sure what that meant. Did she expect him to be naked when she walked in, which would hardly have been presumptuous on his part considering why he was here, or had she just meant get comfortable in the traditional sense?

Whatever she had meant, the sound of the toilet flushing, which could be heard even through the closed door, alerted Bradley that he only had time for the latter. Stretching out across the bed, he sat up halfway once Maureen appeared in the open doorway, hoping that he gave the impression that he was now totally relaxed.

If Maureen was disappointed that he was still dressed, she certainly didn't say anything about it as, with a smile, she walked to the bottom of the bed. Her sweater had been left somewhere in the outer room and, as Bradley watched intently, the gray-haired woman hiked up the bottom of her dress, which he now realized was actually a skirt, and once it had been bundled in her hands, slipped it down her legs.

Stepping out of the discarded bottom, Maureen slipped out of her shoes and, lifting first one leg and then the other up onto the mattress, carefully removed her stockings as well. Bradley didn't think anyone even wore stockings anymore; he imagined they had long ago been replaced by pantyhose. He was glad to see he was wrong, because the sight of them coming off was incredibly sexy.

Removing her glasses, lest they get in the way, Maureen reached behind her and placed them on the tall dresser, right below the wall mounted television. She then placed both hands on her breasts, giving them a playful squeeze, emphasizing their size, a reminder that Bradley hardly needed but was appreciative of nevertheless. From there her fingers moved upward to a few buttons just under the collar that the younger man hadn't noticed before, popping each of them open. Then it was back to the bottom of her blouse where, as she had with the skirt, she took hold of the sides. This time though, she pulled it upward, sliding it above her breasts first and then her head, letting it fall to the floor once it was clear.

"That should be enough for now," Maureen smiled as she stood there in a breast hugging white bra and a pair of rich purple panties, swaying slightly side to side so that Bradley could get a good look at her.

Bradley didn't have much experience with women's lingerie, but it looked to him like Maureen's outfit had been designed more to enhance than to conceal. Which said a lot about her, since she'd worn them today with no expectation that someone might see her in them. It was also clear that, while not fully transparent, both garments were sheer enough that he could pretty much see right through them. Or at least well enough to confirm that it had indeed been her photo that he's been sent earlier.

"I hope the view meets with your approval," Maureen said.

"Very much so," Bradley replied.

"I thought it might," Maureen said as she walked to the right side of the bed and sat herself down on the edge.