Life of Pits

"It isn't an excuse, Pits, you're just so young. I was standing there with some flowers for ... a little girl! I felt like a perv."

"I'm not a little girl, I'm a woman. Treat me like one. And I'm a hungry woman. I know this isn't in the script but can we get something to eat?"

At the restaurant she was asked for ID, that didn't surprise me, but it did surprise me when she folds the menu and says, "I can't eat here, this place will take every dime I have. Let's find a fast food."

I pull her back to the table, "I'm paying, Pits, and I'm paying for your bus ticket, too."

"Half is all I want from you," she says, sitting down, reluctantly. "I'll pay the other half." Then she quickly adds, "But you're paying to get me here, I can pay to get me home."

She looks as awful as I feel. "Look, Pits, I'm sorry about this. It's my fault. I should have asked about your age. It just never occurred to me you'd be so young, I don't know why, it just didn't."

Angry defiance flashes in her eyes, "Maybe it never occurred to you because I'm mature and responsible and I've acted like it. Did you ever think of that?"

I nod, "You are, yes, sure, but look, this just can't work, you're way too young for me ..."

She sits back and scrutinizes me cynically, "What's the real issue here, Pete? Am I too skinny, too unattractive ..."

I shake my head, "No, it's nothing like that, you're just too young. I'm 35 for chrissake."

She snickers contemptuously, "Ya, so you've said. Like that matters."

"Of course it matters."

Her fiery defiance reappears, "It only matters if you want it to matter." Then it is gone and she relaxes into her chair. "But that's the last of it, Pete, I'm not going to talk about it again. Your age doesn't matter to me, it doesn't matter one little bit to me. If you want to get hung up on it, or use it as some kind of excuse, that's your business, but don't look to me for any agreement." She's getting a little louder now, a little angrier, "and don't think for a second that it's going to let you out of your commitment to act out our script. That's why I insisted we write it all down, so you couldn't run from me the moment I showed up. We're going to play our roles, Pete, we're going to hit every one of our fucking marks and don't think we aren't."

It wasn't much of a dinner. I couldn't help it, her age seemed like a deal-breaker. And it didn't get any better when we get to my apartment, I still can't shake the feeling that I'm a dirty old man, a predator.

She had been looking around my place, wide-eyed, since we walked through the door, "You're rich."

"Ya."

"So, why do you live in such a big place?"

"It's an investment."

She looks at me as if I was nuts. "You live alone in an investment?"

I shrug, not wanting to explain, "I have to live somewhere."

"So, why do you write porn?" She asks the question the moment she sits down, as if she can't wait to get my answer.

The rapidity of her questions are making me uncomfortable, "It's a way of thinking through relationship."

"You're good at it. Have you learned anything?"

"I think I have, yes."

"Sons and mothers ..."

"All kinds of relationship, the lonely, the fat, the frustrated."

She's looking me straight in the eye. "Ever write a story about a young woman and an older man, Pete?"

"I may have, yes." I can see where she's going with this.

"How did it turn out?"

"All my stories turn out well."

She's looking at me with an intensity that startles me, "This morning I only bought a one-way ticket. Did you know that? When I left home this morning I never intended to return. I intended to stay here, with you. What do you think of that, Pete?"

"Pits, please, ..."

"What did you think, I mean before you saw the little girl get off the bus? Did you think I was going to come here, hit all my marks, get fucked and go home?"

"No."

"So what then?"

"I didn't see you going home, either."

She gets up, walks over to me, kisses me on the cheek and on the way to the bedroom I had shown her she turns back, "Oh, Pete, make sure you write this story, too. That's our deal, right? You write a story for Literotica.com about my sexual awakening."

-----

I'm following the script when I make coffee in the morning, but I'm really nervous: I know she's going to get up pretty soon, and I know she's going to be wearing a tee shirt and panties. I'm not ready for it, and I'm not ready for the train of events it will set in motion. The moment the coffee is ready I pour myself a cup and escape to a dark corner of the living room.

But I'm not alone for long. "Do you remember this part, Pete?"

She had just walked into the room with a cup of coffee in her hand. "I do, yes."

"This is when we talk about our night, the first night either of us has ever spent in a home with a member of the opposite sex. Yes?"

"Yes."

"I can't remember who goes first. Was it you, or me?"

"I don't know. I can't remember."

"Did you masturbate last night?"

"No."

"Let me tell you about my night, Pete. Just like in the script I took off all my clothes and got into bed, like I do at home, but I felt too naked in this place for that so I got up and put my panties on. Do you remember the script?"

"Yes."

"And in the script I ran my fingers up and down my panties while I thought of what I might do to entice you. I was going to knock on your door, or wash and hang up my panties in the bathroom so you'd see them or come out this morning with a sheer top on and no bra. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"But none of that happened. Do you know why?"

"No."

"Because I masturbated, Pete, twice, once just a few minutes ago." When she takes a sip of her coffee I notice there isn't a hint that she's nervous, quite the contrary, she seems entirely composed and confident. "This age thing. It's just such a crock. I want to be here. More than anything in life I want to be here, I want to be here with you. And do you know what I think? I think you want me here, too — and you want me here as badly as I want to be here." She hesitates for a moment, but I don't say anything. "So, Pete, do I have to wait for us to get on the elevator? Do we have to get into the elevator before you hold me?"

She is standing in front of me in a tee shirt that stops a few inches above her knees, her nipples making two little tents in it. Her eyes bore into mine with the intensity of a poker player. She is calling my bluff. She is telling me to get over my adolescent hang-up and deal with her. She puts her coffee mug on the table beside mine and stands with her hands on her hips waiting for my decision.

"I didn't lie to you, Pits, I didn't masturbate last night, but I should have, I might have got some sleep. But I didn't, I just thought of our script, I thought about you. Our ages. It's a real problem for me ... but I tried to imagine you getting back on that bus, Pits and I can't."

She doesn't say anything, she just leans down and takes my hand, pulls me to my feet and walks me, not to my bedroom as I thought she would, but to hers and she pulls me into her crumpled sheets, still warm from her body and she lies on top of me, with her head on my chest. "I want this Pete, I want this so much. I've never doubted it's going to work, I've never doubted we're going to be together, even with your stupid age thing ..."

"It isn't stupid, it's ..."

"It's just plain stupid. We're not going to be together because there's a few years between us? Get serious. So, the way I've got it figured we're going to have a whole lot of sex and then we're going to start planning our life together. Are you up for that?"

"Pits ..."

"Are you up for that, Pete, or are you going to send me back on that bus?"

"We have to be sure ..."

"Some women want careers, Pete. Not me. I've never wanted a career, I've always wanted to find a guy and just look after him. That's you. I want to do your washing, your ironing, I want to do you shopping, your cooking, your cleaning. And I want to have your children."

"How can you know that, Pits?"

"Look at me. Do you have any doubts?"

"But how can you be so sure?"

"I've always known what I want."

"But is it enough? I mean to look after someone. Is that enough?"

"Enough for me. It'll be 24/7."

"Don't you want to work?"

"Do I have to?"

"No."

"Then I won't. I want to take classes, to learn how to be a mother, to learn about all the domestic stuff — cooking, decorating, gardening, budgeting, I want to learn to run a household and I've got a lot to learn. What do you say?"

"Are you sure of this, Pits, I mean, are you even old enough to know what you want?"

"Don't talk to be like I'm a child, Pete. I've known how I want to live my life since I was 10, I just needed to find the right guy, I just needed to find you. OK?

"You're sure?"

"Totally."

"OK."

"Do you mean that?"

"I couldn't let you get back on that bus, Pits. I tried all night to find a way, but I couldn't. I don't want you to go, but I'm scared as hell, too."

"So, I'm staying, right? Staying, like forever?"

"Yes, that's what I want if that's what you want."

"That's what I want, Pete. So it's sex now, right? Are you ready for it?

"I'm a little scared of that, too."

"I'm not. I want to do all the things you've written about, everything. Like I really want to get into it with you, Pete, try everything, even the pissing. Do you remember that story?"

"Yes."

"When I read it I thought it was gross, but you made it sound so loving so when I thought about it, I knew I wanted to do it with you."

"I don't know, Pits ..."

"And the anal stuff. That grossed me out, too but I can't wait to try it."

"Maybe we should start off slowly, Pits, just the basics. I wrote about incest and homosexuality and all that other stuff because I was intrigued, wanted to think them through. It doesn't mean I actually want to do them all."

"I do, all of it, well, almost all of it, but we don't have to do it all today, I'm probably going to be sore enough anyway. I thought of breaking myself before I came here so it wouldn't slow me down, you know, in case you wanted a lot. Allie talked me out of it. She said you might want it. That it might be important to you. Is it?"

"You are important to me, Pits, everything about you is important to me."

"Particularly my age."

"Maybe I can get you some clothes that will make you look a little older."

"Do you know what I'd like you to buy me? Panties and bras, lots of sexy panties and bras. I was going to get a nice set last night before the mall closed. I made it there in time but the stuff is just so expensive I couldn't afford it."

"I'll get you whatever you want, Pits."

"But you have to want me to have them, Pete, I mean, don't get them if you don't want me to have them. I would only get them for you."

"Can I take your shirt off?"

"God, Pete, sure, you don't have to ask. Just take stuff off me and put stuff on me whenever you want. That's what this is about." She lifts her arms over her head. "I hope you like me, Pete. I'm a little skinny but I can fatten up if you want but I'll never be able to grow breasts," she gives them a little heft, "these are all I'll ever have. What do you think, Pete, they're kind of funny looking I know but they're really sensitive, they're really sensitive to you, they're always standing out when I'm think of you."

"God, they're beautiful, Pits, can I suck on one?"

"Come on, Pete, don't ask, just suck on them whenever you want. That's what they're for, for you and the kids."

"They're beautiful, Pits." I bend down and suck gently.

"You said they tasted salty in the script, do they?"

"Salty and sweaty."

She pushes me away, "I'll take a shower for you; I want to take a shower for you."

I sit up and try to make her understand, "Pits, please, this isn't about what I want, it's about what we want. We're both supposed to get pleasure from each other, not just me. So, please, don't talk that way, don't tell me I can take whatever I want. Don't say stuff like that."

She sits up now, too and looks at me, almost fiercely, "I have to, Pete, that's the way I feel. I want to be perfect for you. I will only be happy if I make you happy. That's me, that's who I am so don't take that away from me." She takes my hand and massages it, "Your job is to work, my job is to protect you and make you happy. I'll do anything to make you happy, Pete, that's who I am, that's what I want to do, that's who I want to be. You have to understand that; it's important to me. Making you happy is my job. Do you understand that? It's important that you understand that."

I have to look away, she can be unbelievable intense.

"... Pete?"

"Ya."

"Do you understand? This is important."

I don't understand, but it's obvious she means her words, the intensity on her face is almost painful. I push her gently onto her back. Pits is very thin, with a tiny chest, slim hips and long slender legs and every since we got into the bed she has been constantly writhing and squirming as if her body is contorting in sexual excitement. It's unbelievably erotic, like she is fucking my imagination. I press down on her white nylon panties to hold her still but her hips fight at my hands, thrusting at them as if wanting to escape. "Lift up, Pits. I want these off."

"Let me shower, Pete. I told you, I've masturbated, let me shower for you first, OK?"

I peel her panties from her legs and notice how wet they are, then I kneel between her legs and kiss her thighs, "Pits, you're beautiful."

She tries to squirm away but I hold her, "Please let me shower, Pete, it will only take a minute."

I can't wait. There are beads of moisture on the sparse brown hair of her swollen lips. As I trace kisses up the inside of her legs I'm almost breathless with expectation, "Pits, you smell just fantastic, God, I want to taste you, I want ..."

She continues to try to get away, but I hold her by the hips and bring her pussy hard against my face. "Pete, no, I'm not clean, I want to be clean for you, Pete, oh, God, Pete ... Pete, please, ... Pete, oh, God, Pete ... Pete ... Pete ... Oh, God, ..."

When I look up I can see her stiff brown nipples above her flat white stomach, which is heaving from the exertion of pushing against me as if she wants my face and tongue to go as deep into her as they can. She has turned on the bed to press her face into the pillow, but I can still hear her cries.

Her juices hit be with a stunning force. At first I think she has pissed on me, but it doesn't taste like urine, it tastes sweet and salty and fishy and the feeling of her writhing against my face, squeezing her thighs against my face, pressing herself into me is so erotic I have to fight not to come myself.

Then she stiffens for a moment, as if in shock, and slowly settles on the bed. She has been pulling at my hair, pulling me into her, now she is pushing me away. "Oh, God, Pete that was just so fantastic."

She means it, I can feel that she means it, that she's been sexually satisfied but I need more. I love her body, reed thin, white and squirming against me. I bring my face from her pussy and press it into her stomach, rubbing her juices into her. Her fingers are still in my hair and she's pulling me up to her, and I go, slowly, kissing my way up, lingering over her nipples.

"Oh, God, Pete, I just so love you, I love this ...," now she pushes me away, "oh, God, you have me all over your face." She tries to get away, "here I'll get a cloth."

I hold her, pulling her skinny little body into mine, pulling her onto my lap. "Don't go, Pits. How was it, did you enjoy it?"

"Oh, ya, Pete, that was unbelievable, I mean, sticking your face in there ... are you, ah, like, OK with that? I mean, isn't it a little ... I don't know, disgusting? Did you like it ... I mean, could ..."

"I loved it, Pits, I love you, everything about you, including your smell, your taste and I loved the way you're always wiggling, do you know you're doing that, Pits, do you know that always wiggling, wriggling and writhing?"

"It's my turn now." She helps me as I quickly take my clothes off and she pushes me onto the bed and kneels beside me looking at my penis. "I don't know how to do this so tell me what I'm doing wrong, OK?" She licks at the pre-cum that has been oozing out of me for awhile now, "What's this stuff?"

"I think it's there to lubricate you."

"Tastes OK." Then she kisses it, on the head and along the underside to its base, gentle, sucking kisses. "It's beautiful, Pete, really pretty. Are you ready for my first suck?" She doesn't wait for my responses, she puts me in her mouth and sucks gently but only for a moment then she looks at me, "Oh, God, Pete, this is so great. Imagine, having you in my mouth. I knew this was gong to happen. Not right away but maybe about a week ago, that's when I knew we were going to be together and ever since I've imagined having you in my mouth and inside me, I've imagined making you happy, I've imagined waking you up this way, kissing on you and sucking on you and I've imagined waking up with you in me, God, Pete, I'm just so ready for this."

I take her by the hair and ease her back onto me, I am seconds away. "Pull me out when I tell you," and for the first time since I met her at the bus station I relax, I melt into the bed and watch her head bob up and down on me, her eyes closed in concentration and I give myself to her, every last shred of resistance floods from me in an ejaculation that seems to go on forever.

She is coughing, wiping away the tears from her eyes and I am apologizing but she isn't listening, "Oh, God, Pete, I just so loved that. I didn't know if I would, but that was great. How did I do? Did I do alright? I'll get better, I'll get a lot better. But you have me all over you. Let me run you a bath, Pete, let me clean you up, and me, too."

I watch her little ass run from the room then I look down at my semi-erect penis, still wet from her spit. At about 2 o'clock this morning I knew all this was going to happen, I knew we were going to have sex and when we did, I knew we would be together. What I didn't know, and I had no way of knowing, was how I was going to feel about it. And I am far from sure now, it has all happened so quickly, so completely. One moment I am single and essentially miserable; the next I am the committed partner to a young woman I barely know, a woman perhaps best described as a hippie. None of it makes any sense to me, yet I know it makes perfect sense to her, and that gives me a surge of pleasure, it envelopes me like a warm, womb-like cocoon. I have worked hard for the past ten year building a company, unbelievably long hours, often in the grip of frantic tension. Now, in an instant, I am lying on a bed thinking about how many kids I want with a woman who I feel is entirely capable of naming them Tulip or Earthling or Skypower. For the first time, I feel like my life is out of my control and I'm shocked to find how exhilarating I find that.

"Come on, Pete, let's get you cleaned up." She's pulling at my arm, dragging me to the bathroom. "How much money do we have, Pete? Do we have enough to get a better bathtub, one with all those jets that can massage you? You should have one of those, Pete. Do you want me to get you one?"

When I step into the tube I pull her with me and carefully and very gently dunk her head under the water. I don't get giddy very often so it really surprises me I'd do such a thing but she thinks it's pretty funny because when she surfaces she's sputtering and spitting and laughing and she jumps into my arms so violently that half the water sloshes from the tub and the waves don't settle before her lips are pressing against mine and she's asking how many kids I want.