Something Old, Something New

Nick chuckles, and kisses my hand, which is somehow laced with his. I've collapsed onto my stomach and he's on his beside me. He rolls onto his side and disposes of the condom.

There's a post-sex serenity in this room. Just two people recovering from having life-altering orgasms. When I muster enough energy to lift my head and look at him, he's gazing down at me with a thoughtful look.

"What?" I ask, smiling. I'm completely unashamed of my nakedness as he strokes his knuckles down my back and over my ass.

"I'm just wondering if we should have talked about the logistics of this situation before we did that," Nick says quietly. He's begun to look a little bit sad and I hate it.

"I think that this," I gesture to our bodies, "was going to happen whether or not we talked about it." I laugh a little but he still looks pensive.

"I'm worried," he swallows. "I'm worried about what happens next. I don't do this a lot, Becca. I don't just sleep with women -- especially women half my age."

I lift myself onto an elbow. "What do you want to happen next?"

His eyebrows scrunch together. I'll admit it's a difficult question to answer -- to put yourself out there and admit what you want. Especially if you're worried that the other person doesn't want that.

"I'd like to start seeing you," he finally says, meeting my eyes. "I want to go on a couple of dates and see where it goes." Before I can voice my enthusiasm, he goes on. "I know that you might not want that -- it's complicated. I get it. I'm older, and people will talk, and your mum will almost definitely disapprove. I just mean... Sorry, I am trying to get to the point" Nick sighs. "I just... don't worry about hurting my feelings."

I have an eyebrow raised at him, my mouth quirked up. Is he... is he insecure about his age? I could almost laugh. All this time I was thinking that I would be the insecure one. I just assumed that he'd have had plenty of attractive, cool women. Women who had done things with their life. And here I was -- in my late twenties, with little to show for it, pining after a guy who could do better.

"Are you worried that I think you're too old for me?" I ask, beginning to smile.

Nick doesn't smile. "Becca, I'm not bringing much to the table. I'm divorced. I have a son almost your age, and I don't plan on having any more children. Dating me will cause complications -- and almost all of them will be directed at you."

I scootch over on the bed, until my face is closer to his. "You need to relax a bit," I murmur and kiss him. It's slow and long and it has me excited again. "I like you," I whisper, pulling back. "I'd love to go on a date with you."

Nick visibly relaxes -- he sinks into the mattress and throws his head back. "Thank God," he smiles, looking over at me. He seems like he's about to say something but shakes his head and just kisses me instead. His weight pushes me into the bed and the pulsing between my legs starts up again.

"Let's get a drink," Nick pulls away and stands up, erection at full mast, "and then do all this again."