Paula the Perfect Pear Ch. 02

We walked to the diner in what they call a "companionable silence" in the books. I was trying to think of something to talk about, but without ideas managed to keep from babbling.

He held the door of the diner when we went in and I liked that little courtesy, so rare these days.

The waitress came by and he looked at me with raised eyebrows and then said "just coffee for now please." I nodded in agreement.

"Look," he said, leaning across the table to touch my fingertips with his, "let me get it said right up front. Don't be offended, but I am not going to try to get into your pants tonight."

I suppose the, what? Shock? Outrage? Surprise? Anyway, something showed on my face.

He chuckled, a soft low laugh deep in his throat.

"Don't get me wrong Paula, I think you're a knockout. But I want to get to know you before we decide where this is going."

"This?" I said, the question mark in my voice.

"Yes," he said, "whatever 'this' might turn out to be."

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" he asked.

I laughed. "I hadn't given it much thought, but if I had to say I'd say 'no'," I said.

"Neither do I," he said, with a broad grin, "but I do believe in 'smitten' at first sight, and that's how I'm feeling right now."

I felt the blush and grin spread across my face and was absolutely helpless to stop it.

"So," he said, "let's talk."

I found him easy to talk to. The difference in our ages didn't seem to get in the way. He was young, at 25, and a student still. His time in the Air Force had put him "behind" his peers, but to me, he seemed to be well ahead of most of the fresh college graduates we got in the office.

I, at, well, let's just say 40-something, felt my age with him. In some ways he was boyish, but in others, he was quite sophisticated. I guess living in a foreign country will do that to you.

We spoke, as the saying goes, of many things. And I found myself comfortable with him. For the first time since I could remember I wasn't aware of my shape when I was talking to a man. It was fun and I was thoroughly enjoying myself.

About an hour (and four cups of coffee) into the conversation he said he was hungry and asked if I wanted to eat.

So we ate off of the "Breakfast Served 24 Hours A Day" menu and continued our conversation.

I laughed and actually giggled when he speared one of my sausage patties off of my plate. He slapped my hand when I attempted to steal a bacon strip in return.

It was an altogether lovely evening. We talked about movies (yes, I can't help loving Vin Diesel and the whole Fast and Furious series and he liked them too), cars (the 50s were wonderful but by any reasonable evaluation right now is the "golden age of automobiles), guns (we agreed that "when seconds count the police are only minutes away"), music, and just about anything that came up.

At one point he made me blush by asking, out of the blue, "is it easy to bring you to orgasm Paula?"

I blushed and giggled but then looked him in the eye and said "no."

He grinned at that and then moved on to books (Science Fiction and Fantasy are staples for both of us and we agreed that Stephen King was probably the greatest living American storyteller and that with "Hearts in Atlantis" he had a shot at becoming a truly great author).

And I was literally shocked to look at the clock and see that it was 2:00 in the morning.

He laughed and asked if I would need a ride home.

By then I was completely sober and told him I would just walk. When he offered to walk me home I felt that little rush of fear but I looked at him again and said okay.

The walk home was mostly in that "companionable silence" again. We actually held hands for a while and the occasional bump of our hips was kind of fun. At the door to my apartment building he stopped and bent down, giving me a chaste good-night kiss. To be honest, I wanted more, but I let it go.

He asked for my cell phone and when I gave it to him he quickly punched in a number and handed it back.

"Now I have your number and I will call," he said, giving me a Groucho Marx eyebrow waggle and a finger wave as he set off down the street.

When I got into my apartment I leaned against the door and took a deep breath. I was aware of how much I looked like a scene from some silly romantic comedy, but it felt natural. Damn, but he had really gotten to me.

I had an itch in my belly that couldn't be denied.

I was taking off my clothes as I headed for my bedroom and had to giggle softly at the way my fingers trembled as I got out my "special" box. The vibrator, shaped like a very realistic erection about 150% of normal size was in my hand and I was starting to lay back on my bed when the phone rang.

I let out a little yell I was so startled.

When I looked at the caller ID on the screen I didn't recognize the number but I answered anyway.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, his voice soft and amazingly compulsive.

I managed to not say "nothing" but instead said "David?"

That got a laugh.

"Who else would you be expecting to call at 2:30," he asked.

And it was my turn to laugh.

"Picnic," he said.

"Tomorrow."

"Pick you up at 10:00 sharp," he said and I heard the little beep as he hung up.

I giggled a little as I laid the phone on my bedside table.

The vibrator was still in my hand and the need in my belly was very very real.

I could feel myself tingling and I knew that when I touched myself I would be wet. No, beyond wet. I would be slick.

And I was.

As the vibrator slipped in and I turned the little switch it was like an electric current surging through my body.

Usually, it is hard for me to get fully aroused, but not tonight.

Well, this morning.

My nipples were so tight and hard that they ached.

And I was so slick that the vibrator slipped in its full length.

I surprised myself by starting to cum almost immediately.

I hadn't been lying to David when I said "no" when he asked me about that.

But tonight it was different. My body wanted to cum. Hell, it wanted to explode.

The sensations were so intense that I pulled a pillow over my face and screamed into it as my back arched.

My hand was suddenly wet and I thought I had lost control and peed, but then I realized that I had actually "squirted" as you see in those weird porno videos sometimes.

God, I was exploding.

And again, another wave took me and another gush soaked my hand.

And another.

I had both hands on that pillow now, shrieking my pleasure while the vibrator buzzed merrily between my legs, and wave after wave of pure ecstasy washed over me.

Finally, spent and gasping, I managed to turn the vibrator off. It was hard since it was soaked and slick.

I lay there, panting.

And another wave washed over me, pulling me into a situp position with its force.

I could feel my cheeks and my mouth and chin wet from tears and snot as I tried to get my breathing under control.

And with a sigh, I went to sleep.