Last Chance at Forever Love Ch. 03

"May I sleep with you?"

Continued from Chapter 02:

It was a short drive to my house. I live at the end of a cul-de-sac where the trees that surround my property afford me a level of privacy to walk out on my front porch naked, if I so wanted without anyone seeing me. Not that I'd walk out on my front porch naked, who wants to see a 50-year-old man naked? Maybe, a 50-year-old woman would want to see me naked, but surely, not a 25-year-old, beautiful, sexy woman.

Most of what she had were clothes, old clothes, nothing new or special. She didn't have very much. She moved in with her boyfriend from her parents' home after college and he had everything that she needed: furniture, appliances, and dishware. Even the television set was his. At least, she had a car, an old Honda Civic, and could get around herself without being dependent upon me for transportation, although, if it meant her staying with me, I'd chauffeur her anywhere and at any time day or night.

I made her comfortable in the guest bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Not having to share a bathroom, having her own private space, it was as if she had her own suite, which by her reaction to the accommodations was a favorable one. The arrangement afforded her a level of privacy, if she wanted it. At this point, I'd accommodate her in any way that would make her comfortable, and happy, and make her stay. Hell, I'd give her the master bedroom, my bedroom if that persuaded her to stay with me longer.

Almost giddy, I was off the floor with happiness that she was here with me in my house and in my little world, which now suddenly expanded to include her and her dog. I never knew how alone I was until her presence filled my life with conversation, laughter, and joy. Now, I looked forward to the little things in life that became big things when living alone.

Now, that I had someone to watch television with, play boardgames with, and go places with. Suddenly, I wanted to go everywhere and do everything with her. I wanted to show her off to my friends. Yet, I dreaded the inevitable fall from this temporary high, when she left me one day for someone else, a much younger man. Knowing that it would eventually happen and hit me hard when it did, I tried not to get too excited. In the meantime, I decided to live in the moment and not to think about tomorrow and about her leaving for someone else.

Chapter 03:

I helped her with her things and lifted what she needed me to carry. I rearranged the closet in the guest bedroom filled with my junk. No one had lived here since my girlfriend moved out last year. Before that, my twin daughters stayed with me, until they got their careers going.

I was not only excited about having a roommate but also excited about specifically having her as a roommate. If nothing else, an understatement, it was someone to talk to on a daily basis. It sometimes gets lonely living alone and without having a woman in my life. Nonetheless, as much as I hated to admit it, I was just beginning to get used to the quiet, emptiness that my life had become.

I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at her. She was just so damn beautiful and I was so damn sexually attracted to her that I couldn't help myself from staring. I couldn't believe she agreed to live with me, albeit temporarily. Afraid of ruining this temporary arrangement by making her feel uncomfortable, I continually reminded myself not to stare at her but to play it cool.

Only, inside, I was dying. I was dying to touch her, hold her, stare in her big, brown, expressive eyes, and kiss her. Whether while awake or sleeping, she consumed my every thought. Not wanting to pressure her by rushing things, yet, I needed to know if I had a chance with her sexually. I needed to know if she was as sexually attracted to me as I was sexually attracted to her. I was falling in love with her.

Surprised that she was ready to change in front of me, I watched her stunned as she grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt from her suitcase and came over to me and turned around.

"Would you do me the honor?"

It had been a while, since I've been with a woman and, at first; I didn't know what she wanted me to do. With my horny mind filled with perverted, sexual thoughts, I thought she wanted me to bend her over, lift the back of her dress, pull down her panties, and fuck her. Then, she pointed to the back of her dress. As if I was unwrapping a giftwrapped, expensive package at Christmas, I slowly and carefully unzipped her dress and was rewarded with a view of the back of her bra.

'Wow! It's been a while since I've seen the back of a woman's bra,' I thought.

Surprising myself, I never thought the back of a bra could be so sexy. I never thought that seeing the back of her bra would make me so sexually excited. If the back of her bra made me this horny, I couldn't imagine how I'd feel seeing the front of her bra. Yet, lucky that I saw the back of her bra, other than what I saw at the dog park when her boyfriend ripped her dress and nearly tore off her bra, I knew that I'd never see the front of her bra.

Frozen in place, I stared at her nakedly exposed back. She had a beautiful back. From where I stood gawking, I had a view of the top of her panties. I imagined showering her neck and her back with kisses before reaching around to cup her bra clad breasts in my horny hands. Then, as if I was dreaming it or sexually fantasizing it, I couldn't believe it when she leaned down, pulled up the hem, and lifted her dress up and over her head.

'Wow,' I thought again while staring at her panty clad ass. 'Holy crap. My sexual fantasy come true, I can't believe I'm seeing Sophia in her underwear. I'll definitely be masturbating myself over his sexy sight tonight.'

Then, as if rewarding me for my kindness in taking her in and giving her a place to stay, she turned to face me and smiled. As if looking to see what I could see of her, she looked down at herself before looking up at me. Unable to help myself from staring, I stared. Seemingly, she wasn't embarrassed that I was staring. Seemingly, she wasn't embarrassed that I was seeing her beautiful body in her sexy underwear.

Over the months that I walked with her through the dog park, I couldn't count how many times I masturbated myself while imagining her in her bra and panties. I couldn't count how many times I masturbated myself while imagining her naked and having sex with me. Now, within arm's reach, she stood not three feet away from me in her lowcut, sexy, front snapping, lacy bra and bright, white, bikini panties. As if she was standing before me fully clothe, unashamed, she talked to me as if she was fully dressed.

"You have a beautiful home, Jimmy."

'And you have a beautiful body,' I wanted to say but didn't dare.

Still staring at her underwear clad body, I smiled. I stared at her bra clad breasts. I stared at her white, bikini panties. I stared at her pussy mound and her pussy slit. I stared at her sexy thighs and her long, shapely legs. As if trying to memorize her as fodder for my masturbation tonight, I continued to stare at her modeling her sexy underwear to me.

"Thank you," I said telling myself not to stare at her semi-naked, underwear clad body, but I wasn't listening to myself. "One of the things that I love about this house, with it tucked in at the end of a cul-de-sac with woods behind it, and with not a neighbor close by, is that it's so private."

I stared at her as if I had never seen a woman in her underwear before. I continued staring at her bra and at her panties while wondering what were beneath those oh, so thin and oh, so sheer silk, satin, and cotton pieces of material. Now that I've seen her in her bra and panties, I wondered what she looked like naked.

Boy did she ever have a body. She had a Playboy magazine type of a body, but without the phony tits. Compared to my ex-wife and my ex-girlfriend with them both much older, women my age, Sophia was a ten much like Bo Derek was a ten in the movie 10.

Everything about her was real, genuine, and sincere. Just as I thought that, I realized that I was doing it again. I was putting her high up on a pedestal as I did with my ex-wife and as I did with my ex-girlfriend. Holding them all in high esteem and reverence, I put all the women I've been with on pedestals. An impossible standard for them to maintain, I continually set them up for failure and set myself up for disappointment.

You'd think that I would have learned by now from the bad experiences I had with my ex's. I needed to stop doing that. No doubt, she's just like me, human with all of her foibles. Yet until she fell from my good grace, she was worthy of that lofty, pedestal position. Only, one of the things that gets me going is seeing a beautiful, sexy, and shapely woman in her panties and bra and she was certainly beautiful, sexy, and shapely.

# # #

"I'm sorry," she said laughing without blushing. "Did I embarrass you?"

I made a face as if it was no big deal and as if I was used to seeing women in their panties and bras. Except confessing that she not only embarrassed me but also sexually excited me, I could feel myself blushing.

"No, no, not I all," I said, while thinking that sexually arousing me was more the phrase to use than embarrassing me. "I have to sit down before I pass out," I said suddenly hot and waving my hand in front of my face. Not wanting her to see my erection, I discreetly made an adjustment to the position of my growing penis. "Actually, yes, you caught me by surprise," I said. "To be honest, I'm not accustomed to seeing a young, beautiful, and sexy woman strip off her clothes in front of me," I said with a dirty laugh.

As if it wasn't as big of a deal to her as it obviously was for me, she shrugged her shoulders and laughed sexily.

"I'm not one of those women, the make-believe, eternal virgins, who feign their modesty. I've never harbored any false pretenses or phony inhibitions when it comes to sexy and especially nudity."

She laughed, again.

"I'm glad you're not a virgin, make-believe or real," I said laughing.

She laughed too.

"That was one of the things that drove my boyfriend nuts," she said shrugging her shoulders again, before shimming her t-shirt over her head. "No doubt, that's one of the reasons why he called me a whore, when I'm not. For an artist, he was such a prude."

I figured from my first assessment of her that she was a very modest and private person. Now, that I know better, I was wrong. Already my pedestal that I had put her on had a crack in it. Yet, I preferred a woman, who didn't have too many inhibitions and was more honest and open with her feelings, especially with her sexual feelings.

I could feel my cock continue swell as I watched her wiggle her round, panty clad ass in her tight blue jeans. I wondered if her was shaved, trimmed or bushy. Since there was no evidence of errant pubic hairs or a darker shadow of a full, bearded pussy, I ruled out bushy. Ruling out shaved, while imagining her naked pussy, I figured her pussy was trimmed.

"Prude? I'd more like to think of him as an asshole than a prude," I said with a chuckle.

# # #

She chuckled too before saying something that shocked me as much as it sexually excited me.

"All of his friends have seen me naked," she said with a shrug and an uncaring look as if it was no big deal.

She looked at me for my reaction to his friends all seeing her naked. In that moment, I imagined her without her clothes. I imagined her naked. Taking control of my horny mind, I imagined her naked ass, tits, and pussy. She surprised me by her honest albeit immorally immodest confession.

"Naked? Really? They did," I asked while still trying to play it cool when I was already so very sexually excited? "How? Were you drunk or high? Did you go skinny dipping with them? Did you go to a nude beach with them and sun out in the nude," I asked while rattling off exciting, imagined, sexual scenarios? "Were you forced to strip naked by your boyfriend in front of his friends?"

With her such a nice woman positioned squarely on my pedestal, I figured her boyfriend forced her to strip naked. Now, I was more excited by the prospect of her giving me pillow talk of all the times that guys have seen her without her clothes than by the thought of seeing her naked now. Hornier now that I've ever been, there was something so sexually exciting about her that drove me mad with sexual desire for her.

It was then that I realized the glaring difference between a 50-year-old man and a 25-year-old man. Older men are content to watch and to savor the sexual images of a seductive woman seducing them, before stripping off their clothes and slowly wading in the water. Younger men, too dumb to enjoy the teasing and too impatient to wait for the sexual seduction, are always ready for quick, and unsatisfying, sexual action. They want to dive headlong in the deep end of the pool without checking first for water.

More erotic in nature than pornographic, we older men appreciate the growing lust that colors our imagination and strokes our cerebral desire in a more relaxed and leisurely way. Our younger counterparts are more concerned with the physical aspects of satisfying their penis with sex now. Long before their brain has had a chance to catch up with their cocks, they don't have the patience to savor the moment. Instead, older men, perhaps, because they have less sexual opportunities than younger men, record their conquests to remember them and to replay them over again in their horny minds while masturbating themselves.

'Slam bam, thank you ma'am,' is more the motto of younger men who looked to add more women to their sexual conquests.

While fanning the flames of sexual desire to bring the sexual passion of the woman to a warm, glowing ember and our sexual passion to a boil before we act, we older guys play it cool longer. Easier to extinguish with just a blow of air, forgetting about the high heat of the woman, or the lack thereof, the young studs strike when their flames are highest, long before the female fires have been stoked. Too quickly, their flames douse, often times in a matter of minutes, while our fires still burn brightly with fond memories of our sexual encounters years later.

# # #

"They always had an excuse to come over without an invitation, especially when they knew my boyfriend was painting me in the nude. Sexually teasing them and giving them a show, I was slow to cover up," she said with another shrug. "My boyfriend threw them out time and again," she said looking at me with those big, brown eyes. "I guess I could have been a nudist." She smiled, "I thought it was funny sexually teasing them while deliberately exposing myself to them. Pawns in women's hands, guys are so easily aroused."

Suddenly, I heard another, albeit longer crack in her pedestal. I hoped for my sake that she could maintain her balance and not fall from the high height that I put her. Yet, I was glad that her pedestal was cracking now instead of later. I was glad that she was giving me a clearer and more honest view of herself. It's better to know what I'm dealing with now than being surprised when finding out about it later.

"Well, feel free to walk around in the nude, I said with another chuckle. "You're my guest and if you're more comfortable without your clothes, so be it. I'll force myself to suffer through seeing you walk around naked," I said with a dirty laugh.

She made a face at me and laughed.

"Thank you, but I don't want to give you the wrong impression of me, at least, not yet," she said giving me a sexy smile and a naughty look.

As long as I shall live, I'll never forget that look. That was her first look of serious, sexual interest in me. Sirens and alarm bells went off in my head telling me that I had a chance of a love affair with my sweet, young angel. Her boyfriend was wrong about my chances with her. With me having already moved her into my house, I'd say my chances of having a love connection with her were good, very good indeed.

"Unless you committed murder and murdered me in my sleep," I said with a chuckle, "you could never give me the wrong impression of you."

She laughed.

"Would you like some coffee?" She said looking at her watch. "I usually have coffee this time every day."

I was glad she drank coffee instead of tea. Drinking tea instead of coffee is akin to kissing your sister.

"Sure," I said.

She stood and looked down the hall.

"If you show me where the kitchen is, I'll make it."

I escorted her down the hall, through the dining room, and into the kitchen. She glanced outside where Jack and Blondie were playing in the fenced in backyard.

"Are they okay?"

I stood a few feet behind her admiring the impression her round, firm ass made in her skin-tight blue jeans.

"They're fine," I said removing my stare from her backside for fear that she'd catch me enjoying more of the view of her jean clad ass than that of the pets playing out back. "They're having a ball."

I stood with by the back window watching them play. While she played Suzy homemaker in the kitchen, I watched her from the hall. I couldn't believe she was here with me. It felt good having a woman in the house, again, and it was then that I wondered if she cooked. Yet, it didn't matter if she cooked or not, as I liked to cook and, besides, someone who looks as good as she does, doesn't need to cook, clean, or do anything but have sex.

"Jack likes having a live-in friend," I said watching the dogs play. "And I do, too," I said looking at her and giving her a smile.

She turned to give me a smile.

"Thank you for having me stay here with you," she said before looking out the back window again to watch the dogs play. "Only, I don't know how much Jack will like him, once he's fully grown because, judging by his paws, he's going to be a really, big dog."

# # #

'Fully grown?'

Her comment stunned me. Seemingly, she forgot about the past with her boyfriend, skipped to the present with me, and talked about the future with us; at least, staying with me until her dog grew to his full size. That was several months away. I was on cloud 9 drifting off with sounds of Jimmy Buffet playing Cheeseburger in Paradise and with the thoughts of her shacking up with me for the rest of the year, at least, if not for the rest of my life.

I was getting way ahead of myself. One day at a time. She's here today and I can only hope she stays here tomorrow before hoping she'd stays with me forever.

Nonetheless, there was no calming my sexual excitement. The rest of my life echoed in my mind. I suddenly wondered how much longer I had to live. My father died at 90-years-old, maybe, I'll live to be that age. I imagine having 40-years of Sophia in my life. She'd be 65-years-old and I'd be 90-years-old. I had goose bumps thinking of all the good times we could have and all the sex we could have in 40-years. I wondered if I could still get it up at 90-years-old, 80-years-old, or even 70-years-old. Thank God for Cialis and Viagra.

Once the coffee finished brewing, we took our cups out to the back screened-in porch to watch the dogs play. They never tired of running, jumping, leaping, and playing. We sat like old friends sipping our coffee, talking, laughing, and getting to know one another better. I reached out and touched her cheek where he slapped her. It was my excuse to touch her, to see if she was real, and to prove to myself that I wasn't dreaming and imagining her in my house.

'That's gonna bruise," I said.

Her skin felt so soft like a ripe piece of fruit before it dries up and turns bad in the way that I had wrinkled and turned sour. Yet, different with her, more upbeat and happier, maybe she's here to help me enjoy the rest of the life that I have. Maybe she's not only my angel but also my savior and my salvation.