Sixteen Years

I entered the pristine hotel room and heard the heavy door close with a thunk as I threw my overnight bag onto the king size bed. It had been 18 months since I'd set foot in a hotel room -- thank you very much, Covid19 -- and it felt good to be surrounded by the quiet privacy that only a hotel room can afford.

I knew a high-end hotel like this would be extra clean, but the sleek contemporary lines of the hotel's interiors -- from the lobby to the bathrooms -- screamed minimalist modern and made the entire environment feel sanitized and pristine.

I wandered the room slowly. The view from the floor to ceiling windows was magnificent and the reason I had booked a premium room on a high floor. The mirror over the huge bed was another. A trip into the bathroom confirmed the large rain shower and the soaking tub next to another window with a magnificent view of the Manhattan skyline. The soft electronica music emanating from the TV console added to the sensual ambiance of the room.

As I ran my fingers over the expensive surfaces I thought about the reason for my visit here. If all went according to plan, I'd be hosting Hannah here before the night was over. Hannah. This night had been almost 16 years in the making and the fact that it was all coming together sent chills ratcheting down my spine. I smiled at the thought, opened my suitcase and began to unpack.

I'm Michael. I'm 62 and live in Cambridge, Massachusetts. We moved there when my wife, Brenda, and I were both in our forties and pulling down very nice salaries -- her in real estate and me in semi-conductors. We'd had a great life together -- a stable marriage, good jobs, great kids, travel. We'd been living the dream. But Brenda developed cancer about four years back and passed away two years ago. I would not be standing here in this hotel room if she were still alive. But here I am.

She was the love of my life and we had looked forward to growing old together. We had the same problems most couples do as we aged and adapted to each new phase of life. And while I'd been tempted a few times, I had never cheated -- never "left the foxhole" as they say. Unfortunately, our plans to grow old gracefully together never came to be.

We had two children together: my son, Jason, who is 35 and living in LA, and my daughter, Ashley, now 33, married and living in the Boston suburbs. Ashley is key to this story as Hannah was her roommate in college. Ashley went to college in Providence, Rhode Island and I should probably start the story there.

As I reminisce, I'm not sure telling this story in a long linear narrative is the best way to share such a tale. Thinking back on Hannah -- and what had brought us to this moment -- I can probably confine our focus to five main events or scenes that create a proper perspective on Hannah and why this moment held so much glorious sexual allure to me -- and to her as well, I suspect.

Naturally the first scenario would have to be our initial meeting with Hannah in Providence. Ashley was assigned her roommate in the summer of 2006 as she and her classmates entered college as the Class of '10. They communicated that summer and we knew Hannah was from Darien, Connecticut, her family was hedge fund wealthy and that she had attended private schools. Ashley and Hannah seemed to hit it off that summer -- albeit remotely -- and they were both looking forward to meeting one another when school started.

My wife and I drove Ashley down to school early that September. Providence was far enough away from Cambridge to make it feel like she was truly away at school, but close enough to allow us to visit, or for her to visit us, for day trips. It seemed like a perfect fit and an ideal distance.

We arrived at their double room that day in September before Hannah and her parents and began to move Ashley's boxes from the car into the room. She decided to wait until Hannah arrived to choose one of the beds, knowing that Hannah was on the way and would arrive shortly.

I hadn't seen any photos of Hannah prior to her entering the room, and even if I had, I'm not sure they would have prepared me for the young lady who burst into the room soon thereafter, followed by a handsome looking couple who were, obviously, her parents. It was smiles all around as Ashley and Hannah embraced for the first time and we shook hands with her parents.

Hannah was an absolutely stunning young lady. There wasn't just one thing or feature about her that struck me; it was her entire personae that seemed to fill their dorm room that first day and drew me to her presence.

She was 5 foot 8 inches of lean curves. Her long light brown hair was swept back in a ponytail and she was dressed in a short tight tank top that exposed her midriff and small denim shorts that were frayed by design, not by overuse. She looked wholesome and pure. Her skin looked silky smooth and glowed with the luminescence of youth. Her breasts didn't appear to be large -- perhaps a nice full B cup -- but they were perfectly proportioned to her slim body and sat prominently on her sleek torso.

It was her face, however, that I would obsess about for well over the next decade. Her high cheek bones sat below a gorgeous pair of hazel eyes that flashed with a combination of innocence and naughtiness. Her lips were full and made me think thoughts that I had no right to be conjuring up at an innocent meeting of two new roommates and their families. Her long graceful neck gave her an almost regal nubile appearance and her teeth could only be described as perfect. Her smile was bewitching and totally intoxicating.

Facial beauty can be hard to describe in words. It's one of those, "you know it, when you see it" kind of things. That was certainly the fact with Hannah. There was no doubt she would be called beautiful by anyone who gazed upon her. But trying to single out any one feature would be impossible...even though I just tried. It was the way they all came together in a harmonious balanced whole that put her in the category of one of the most strikingly beautiful young ladies I had ever laid my eyes upon. Everything about her was in perfect proportion; face and body.

Now this assessment happened in a matter of seconds. The fact is, I scanned her quickly and took a few mental pictures in my head before turning to her parents to converse with them. But each opportunity I had to take in Hannah's beauty, I grabbed. She was oblivious to my quick scans of her body as she leaned over the bed or reached up to put something in the closet. But I was taking her in surreptitiously and filing my mental photographs away in my brain for use later.

After the girls were somewhat settled and the parents were beginning to feel like it was time for us to leave, Hannah's father suggested that we all meet at a restaurant later for dinner. He'd heard good things about a high-end brick oven pizza place near campus and said he'd make reservations for six at 7 -- and the girls could meet us there. We all agreed, told the girls we'd see them later, and departed their dorm room.

Brenda and I returned to the hotel room we'd taken for the night and relaxed for a few hours. We finally got ready for dinner and arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early. Hannah's parents, however, were even more punctual than we were and waved to us from a large circular table near the front window as we entered. We greeted them like old friends and ordered drinks. We chatted amiably until the two girls arrived a bit on the late side.

As their parents we stood and greeted them both warmly. I did observe a few men at other tables eyeing the young ladies as they strode over to ours. Both girls had traded in their tanks and shorts for short dresses and heeled sandals, They'd obviously decided to dress up a little for their first night on campus. The sight of the two of them -- glowing with youth and radiating such confidence in their future -- made me smile with joy. How thrilling for both of them to be embarking on the exciting journey of college? A part of me wanted to be in their shoes again -- or at that starting gate of my own college years.

Hannah, of course, looked even more stunning than she had in the dorm earlier. She was wearing a summer dress that flowed with her body and accentuated her subtle sexy curves. She had applied just enough make-up to highlight her incredible natural beauty. Her understated sensuality was impossible to ignore. She was, simply stated, a knock-out.

And so it was that I became acquainted with Hannah as my daughter started her freshman year in college. I could wax and wane about different interactions with Hannah over the next two years. We got to know her quite well between visits to campus and her occasional visits to Cambridge. But I think, for brevity's sake, I'll skip ahead to the summer after their sophomore year and Hannah's visit that June. They had gotten along famously as roommates that first year and ended up living together all four years of their undergraduate studies.

A friend of theirs who had graduated that year was getting married in Boston and both girls were invited to the wedding. Hannah came to stay with us for a couple nights so they could both attend the wedding festivities together. It was during that stay that another event occurred that highlights the gradual connection we were beginning to establish. It was never anything overt or momentous -- it was just a slow process of getting to know Hannah and her getting to know me.

The wedding was taking place at a five star hotel in Boston and both girls had been dressed to the nines as they departed that day. Now I know that weddings always bring out the best in any woman. They dress to impress and expect to be seen and admired. Both girls wore what could only be described as "little black dresses" and the heels added a kick of height and leg elongation that has always fascinated me. In Hannah's case her legs were long, sleek and lean - a study in perfect proportion - as the hem hugged her mid-thigh. Her well-defined bottom was showcased by the cut of the dress and gentle curve of her spine. It was hard to look away -- and I tried -- from the swerve of her hips and the tight twitch of her bubbly young ass. If that makes me sound like a dirty old man, well then...guilty as charged, I guess. But any person, man or woman, would have been entranced by the very sight of her that night.

Ashley had been a bit wild since high school and I'd always gotten the impression that Hannah was a little more conservative when it came to the party scene. Since she had driven up to see us, they had decided that she'd drive to the wedding. She promised not to drink and this made Ashley very happy because it meant that she wouldn't have to behave herself. They left with smiles on their faces and Brenda and I settled into a comfortable evening at home.

We had gone to bed early, but I had gotten up at one point to get a glass of water in the kitchen. Perhaps I hoped I might run into the girls, but I had convinced myself that was not the reason I lingered in the kitchen. It was also not the reason I decided to pour myself a couple fingers of good bourbon at one in the morning. As I sipped that russet nectar I heard the sound of a motor turning off outside and the slam of a couple of car doors.

I wondered whether it was appropriate to be seen by a house guest in just shorts and a tee, but...hey, it was my house. I waited as the rear door open and the girls entered. Hannah was fine, but Ashley was clearly drunk and was using Hannah as a crutch.

"Daddy.....hi," crooned Ashley. "What are you doing up?" I sighed and looked at Hannah who smiled and shrugged. I ignored her question.

"I guess you had a good time, Ashley," I said with a mix of admiration and admonition. Hannah smiled and responded for her.

"If the band was still playing, we'd still be out on the dance floor, Mr. G."

"You'd better get to bed, Ashley," I scolded with a smile. "Do you need any help, Hannah?"

She declined. "No, this isn't the first time, Mr. G. I got it." Ashley put her hand around her friend's shoulder and Hannah led her off to the bedroom.

"Thank you, Hannah," I called out after them. As they started to walk away, Hannah looked back and asked a question.

"Is there any more of that bourbon, Mr. G? I only had one glass of wine all night and I could use a nightcap."

"Of course, Hannah? On the rocks or neat?"

"Either. I'll be back in a few." And with that she angled Ashley off to bed and I opened the cupboard to get out my best bourbon. I smiled at the thought of Hannah returning to have a drink with me -- imagining her sitting down and crossing her legs, her short black dress riding up those long lean thighs.

Ten minutes later Hannah emerged from upstairs. While I had sat there imagining her returning still dressed for the wedding, I was more than pleased to see that she'd changed and gotten ready for bed. I might not be able to ogle her in her wedding finery, but I certainly wasn't going to complain about her wearing her sleepwear. She had on a pair of those flimsy thin silky shorts that are snug up top but sort of loose and flared at the bottom and a tight tank top that barely came down below her lovely breasts. There was no question -- none -- that she was braless along with being barefoot. We had told her to make herself comfortable when she'd arrived and she was clearly following our instructions.

"What a night, man. I could really use a drink," she grinned. I couldn't help but smile in return.

"As they say, "Mi casa....." I held up the empty glass. "You were noncommittal on the ice situation so I thought I'd let you decide," I stated. She grabbed the glass and sauntered over to the refrigerator. Her curvy hips swayed ever so slightly and her tight bubble ass looked ripe for picking. The shorts barely came down over her pert young cheeks. I almost groaned aloud as she bent over and pulled out the bottom freezer. It might have been my imagination, but I could have sworn she knew I was watching and she was putting on a little show for me. The snug shorts caressed her ass the way I wish my hands had been doing.

She plunked a few cubes into the glass and slowly wandered back toward the kitchen table. She stood as she poured a little of the deep amber liquor over ice and re-corked the bottle.

"Whistlepig? My goodness," she said, with obvious delight.

"Only the best for our guests, Hannah"

"Do you have any snacks or crackers or something," she asked.

"Yes -- up in the cabinet over there. I can...." I started to get up but she shushed me and walked over to the cabinet in question. She opened it and stood on her toes to grab a box of Triscuits. My eyes were glued to her body and when she came down off her toes, she landed on her heels hard enough to make her glorious cheeks jiggle tightly. I should have looked away -- she was my daughter's roommate, for Christ's sake -- but it was impossible. There was no question she'd done that for my benefit. So I kept my gaze on her body as she brought the box back to the table and sat down. She knew I'd been watching her, but she played along like she had no idea.

"Ahhhh -- finally. It feels good to relax and get out of those shoes," she stated for the record.

"Well, they may be uncomfortable, but damn if you two didn't look fine in them earlier," I replied.

"Yeah, well, wouldn't be prudent to attend an affair like that without one's tallest heels now, would it?" She smiled, held out her glass for a toast and took a sip of bourbon.

Over the next fifteen minutes she downloaded the evening and gave me a play-by-play of the highlights. It had clearly been one of those over-the-top weddings that spared no expense.

"I don't know. Maybe I'm a boring old homebody, but I'd rather be hanging and having a good conversation over a fine bourbon than trying to dance in heels to 'Living on a Prayer'," she said.

"Well, the bar is open any time, Hannah," I replied.

"No closing time?" she giggled.

"Not tonight," I replied.

We sipped in silence for a minute before she looked over at me questioningly.

"Tell me something, Mr. G. When do boys stop being boys and become men?"

I pondered the reply to her question and swirled my drink as I prepared to respond.

"Well, it depends on the guy, but.....mid-thirties? Maybe after your first kid?"

"Christ," she stated firmly. "You mean I have to wait another fifteen fucking years for my contemporaries to grow a pair of balls?"

I smiled before responding. "Seems the bourbon improves your vocabulary," I joked. "Yeah, I'm afraid that's the norm, unfortunately. Boys will be boys and avoid facing a lot of life's realities until they are forced to. It's just a fact of nature."

"Yeah? Well, it's no wonder so many girls look to older men. I'm beginning to see their point."

"Surrounded by assholes at the wedding?" I queried.

She smiled wanly and took another sip of bourbon. "You might say that. Though not just the wedding. I think I'd include the first two years of college in that assessment."

"Look, I'll be honest. I could get on my high horse and shame the young lads, but I was one myself not all that long ago, or so it seems. Men don't come to certain realizations until they're older and have a little wear on their tires. The thought of focusing on a woman's pleasure, for instance, is just not in their toolbox in the early days. They're too focused on their..." I didn't say what I was going to say and let the sentence hang in the air.

"Cocks?" Hannah blurted out. She looked at me with a smirk, chugged the remainder of her drink and put her glass down on the table with some force.

"Ummm, well, yes. That." I agreed. I looked at her empty glass. "Another?"

"Thanks, Mr. G. I'd love to, but I should be getting to bed. I need to head back on the early side tomorrow. Sorry if I was laying waste to your male species just now."

"No apology necessary and no disagreement from me," I stated for the record. "Older men rock," I said, then chugged down the remnants of my own glass.

Hannah smiled and stood up -- as did I. "Thanks for making my night, Mr. G," she said with a sexy smile. She wandered over and put her arms over my shoulders and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. My hand wrapped lightly around her slender frame for just a moment, but long enough to touch a big swath of warm bare skin. "And thanks for the hospitality," she added.

"My pleasure, Hannah...thanks for making my night too."

She wandered off toward bed and I watched every jiggling step. I shook my head, cleaned up and headed off toward bed.

Hannah and Ashley lived together their junior year and had made plans to rent an apartment together off campus for their senior year. That summer before their last year Brenda and I rented a large house up on Lake Winnipesaukee in New Hampshire for two weeks with tons of bedrooms and plans for a steady flow of visitors, including our kids and their friends.

I was happy to hear that Hannah would be visiting for five nights, but surprised to learn that she now had a boyfriend who was also planning to visit. Ashley's boyfriend at the time, Rob, and Hannah's boyfriend, Brad, happened to be friends, the story went, and the boys wanted to come visit for two nights over the middle weekend. Brenda and I were okay with that, but made it clear it would be separate bedrooms for the boy's visit. They could do whatever they wanted when not on our watch. But in our home away from home, there was going to be no shacking up.

After Hannah's soliloquy the previous summer, I was quite curious to see what kind of lad she'd fallen for -- or settled for, might be a more appropriate description. Hannah arrived on a Thursday night and we were all happy to see her. She looked rested and a bit more grown up than the young lady who had entered the dorm room freshman year.