Sometimes You Get What You Need

I'd been severely crushed by a number of truly neurotic to psychotic girlfriends (including my last wife). I really wanted a relationship, but with all the 'conditions' and 'requirements' that they all had had, it just wasn't happening. I had decide to take a break from all of it, the whole relationship thing just not working.

Many of the friends that I had had, were 'our friends.' When that last marriage ended, so did many of my 'friendships.'

So here I am at the ripe old age of 52, alone, lonely, and once again single. I kept on hoping for that special someone to come along, but so far she hadn't.

So here I was at a bar on another Saturday night, drowning my sorrows 'omg' in yet another beer. My back was to the dance floor where college kids were gyrating and spazzing all over said floor. Much of it was a story sight.

There were many of us at the bar. Some singles and many groups, with all of the available women (I think) in twos and threes, talking amongst themselves and erecting a "stay away" barrier around them. There was no way to do anything but force my way into any of those conversations (which I wouldn't do).

And then there was the giggly group of barely adults (most likely students from the nearby college) tittering and giggling with their mouths cupped by their hands teasingly. As if anyone could actually hear them anyway over the loud dance music that was thumping and reverberating throughout the place.

And they were looking at me. I can just imagine that they were laughing at the strange old man (me) at the far end of the bar.

I returned to nursing my beer, so I didn't notice except out of the corner of my eye, that one of them split off from their (still giggling) gaggle (group).

I was probably their fathers age. And no doubt he spent his nights drinking in just such another type of establishment such as this, in whatever town their family found themselves.

I was looking in the mirror behind the bar when I saw a beautiful but geeky looking girl with glasses on, standing expectantly behind me. As if she were waiting for a sign from the heavens to talk to someone.

She looked on the very young side, with her hair in front cut in bangs. She looked like she was maybe sixteen and not old enough to actually get in to this bar. I thought that she actually looked like she could be a grand daughter. Yeah. That young.

Ironically after a few moments, the guy sitting next to me waved goodbye at the bartender, and got up from his stool, walking towards the door. That's when I found myself next to that young girl.

She just sat there for a few very long seconds looking like she was working up the courage to talk to someone.

I looked up to see her eyes, boring into mine as I looked reflected in the mirror across from us. Was she going to ask some question related to her school work, thinking that I had the answer for her? I t wasn't like I was one of the professors from her school, so that was unlikely.

Then she leaned into me and said a very soft "Hi." I knew she was speaking to me, but I didn't know why.

But then I looked down the bar again to that gaggle of college coeds at the end, and saw them laughing and giggling and trying to hide what they were saying. They were trying to hide their smirks by putting their mouths up to their faces, but it wasn't really working.

Then I looked up once again at the girl sitting beside me. She had somewhat thick glasses on for her age, and she looked oh so young. She had long hair and bangs almost down to her glasses. With her "Where in the World is Waldo Pepper Now?" horizontally striped tee shirt that made her smallish breasts seem even smaller. She looked like a little girl more than a woman.

Aside from that, she also looked to be very much on the "petite" side of womanhood. That didn't help change my perception of my overall impression of her being as being that of an underaged girl.

I stared at her in our reflection in the mirror, occasionally broken by the bartender moving back and forth in between us. She sat there, with an expectant look on her face, that would break out in clouds of shyness as she looked down.

I turned to look at her straight on, still seeing her as one of her still yet giggling and conspiratorial college compatriots getting their kicks down at the end of the bar. She all of a sudden truly looked her shy self, unsure of what she was doing.

I leaned in and almost shouted in her left ear, "Are those your friends at the end of the bar?"

She shyly nodded her head yes not even looking up, seeming embarrassed at even being at my side.

"Did your friends put you up to this? Is this some kind of a dare? Go and bother the old man and report back what I said to you?"

She didn't say anything for another few moments, biting her lower lip and looking at the floor between us. Finally she said, "How did you know?"

"It was painfully obvious the way they were staring and giggling at me. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out."

"Am I bothering you?" she asked, still staring at the floor. Good thing I could read lips, or otherwise I wouldn't have 'heard' her say what she did.

"It's ok. You can go back and tell them that I wasn't interested in their prank tonight," and returned to staring that hole in my beer.

I watched her get up and turn like she was going to walk away... But she didn't. Instead, she returned to her place on the stool and looked determined to continue our 'discussion.'

"Look. I appreciate your interest, but I'm old enough to be your grandfather."

"My grandfather doesn't look like you. Hell, my father doesn't even look as good as you do."

But she looked up once again, with a steely kind of determination in her eyes that belied her young age. Suddenly, she looked much older and more mature than she had a minute or so ago.

I saw a fire in her eyes that wasn't there moments ago. Gone was the hesitant little girl, and before me was a woman who looked like she knew what she wanted (and wasn't going to stop until she got it).

I turned around and gestured to all of the other college aged kids behind us and said, "There's plenty of young guys your age to choose from here. Why don't you just go and dump your friends, and find one of them to take you home?"

"I'm through with them," she shouted in my ear. "I want a man, not a boy."

"But..."

"I'm twenty-two years old, and I'm old enough to make up my own mind," she shouted.

Well at least she's of legal age, I thought.

From the vantage point of a middle aged man though, twenty-two was still a very young age to be hunting for a man my age. I don't care what I looked like.

"But you're still acting on a dare. You wouldn't normally walk up to some man who you might not know what he'd do to you. Would you?"

"Can we go and talk somewhere?" she asked me, seeming to be determined to have a conversation.

"There's the outdoor patio," I said, hooking my thumb in the other direction, gesturing to the back of the place. "But it's getting kind of cold to be out there."

"That's ok. I can handle it."

So I got up and gestured in the patio's direction, turning to look back at her now not giggling but staring friends.

Out in more light, I looked at her and she did look kind of cute. And without those coke bottle glasses, she was borderline beautiful. But that wasn't enough of an incentive for me to rob this cradle. And she didn't exactly look "mature," but still seemed like a child more than a woman

"And besides, they have the heaters out here," she said, turning to me and putting her arm through my crooked arm. Like we were going out for a stroll.

Sitting down at the last table available, I almost felt like I was sitting down to a conversation with a daughter. If I had one, that is. I decided to let her start off the conversation, if she was that determined.

Now that we were back in a restricted space, her reticence came back with a vengeance. She was not sure where to take this.

Finally she looked up once more with that determined fire in her eyes. She leaned into me and whispered, "I've heard that older men know more about -- you know, sex -- than boys my age."

I laughed at this one. "Maybe some of us do. But once again, I don't think you're going to find that that's universally true."

"But you do. Don't you?" she asked me with another look of lust in her eyes.

Now I've been known to satisfy most of the women I've gone out with Heard my name get screamed a few times. But did that make me a knowing and excellent lover? Maybe more so than most of the guys I've heard talk. Guys get together in a bar, and when the liquor flows, so does the bullshit.

"How many guys have you been with?" I asked her with hesitation. I knew that young girls vary between being a virgin with a little bit of 'exploration' and poking and prodding, and those "sluts" that fuck any guy that seems to be interested (as long as he's a jock normally).

Her still downcast look told me a lot. "You're not still a virgin, are you?" I asked with trepidation.

"No. I haven't had a lot of guys, but one of the first ones forced me to have that... done to me."

"In other words. He raped you."

"No. But he convinced me that sooner or later I would have to."

"Convinced." Why couldn't she find some guy in his thirties at most to hop into bed with her? "It doesn't sound like you're had too many good experiences."

"That's basically what I told you."

"And you haven't been able to find a decent guy more your own age?"

"Well, I haven't yet."

"So... once again. How many guys have you slept with?"

"After my cherry was popped, about four or five."

I was a little disturbed about that answer. "Four or five. Don't you know how many you've slept with?"

"I got drunk at a party at one point..."

Oh my God. "So maybe even more," I said, wishing she hadn't told me that. What pray tell did she catch during that?

"So. Once again, it's not like I'm a virgin."

I'll say you aren't. "So you did go and get tested afterwards I assume? And hopefully you were on the pill by that point."

"Yes, I was on the pill."

I'd heard of this thing called Black Out Drunk. Where some girls go out and actually try to get stone blind drunk and not care about what happened.

"I'm not a Black Out Queen, if that's what you're asking me. I just got... a little too drunk. I hadn't planned on it."

Shit. Someone could get AIDS doing shit like that.

"You don't have to go through with the dare, do you? I mean..."

"But what if I want to?" She asked, with a hint of little girl plaintiveness in her voice. Hell, that wasn't convincing me.

"Ok. Tell you what. Let's go out to my car, talk some more, and maybe I'll give you a kiss before I take you home. Would that be enough to fulfill this fantasy?"

"I want you to take me home and fuck me," she said blatantly. Just like that. She was certainly not a little girl, that was for sure.

"So let's do this. I'll walk you out the front door with my arm around your waist, freak your friends out, and then I can take you home. How's that?"

"That's a start," she said.

So we got up from the table, and did just that. We began walking through the bar, my arm around her waist and her arm around mine, until we got past her 'friends.' There was a whole lot of "Oh, shit!"s and "Gotta be fucking kidding me?" comments I heard from them as we passed.

And the freak out of her 'girlfriends' was enough for a good laugh for both of us once we got outside.

----------------------

When we got to my car, I still hadn't convinced her that this was not what she wanted to do. She still seemed determined to go though with this.

"What is it that you want to get out of this?" I asked her as I began un-locking the doors..

"I want to get the 'man' experience, so I know what to look for in a man."

"And you can't manage to do that by dating otherwise?

"Oh, and by the way, my name is Bryan. I figured you should know the name of the man into whose car you're getting into."

Smiling brightly, "My name is Chelsea. My parents met when they were in New York City when they were at NYU." Then she asked, "Can we get into the back seat to have our discussion?"

I sighed. Talk was not usually what people do there, but I agreed.

Opening the door for her, she got in. "Scoot over," I said, once she got in. But that didn't last long.

I was no more inside, before she was climbing into my lap. "This was not exactly what I had in mind."

"But you said we could kiss, You just didn't say how we could kiss." And then she proceeded to show me.

I had to admit, she wasn't a bad kisser. She didn't slam her lips into my face and expect me to respond. Her kissing was thoughtful, and it was gentle. And it was one of the best kisses that I had had in a very along time.

So naturally, with her sitting in my lap, I began to 'respond' to her being there. My 'equipment' was 'erecting' itself, aiming straight for her 'plumbing.' She giggled and wiggled her hips over my erection, making it grow even more.

"I know what I'm doing," she said, with a straight and very intent face.

And the more that she looked into my eyes, the more thoughtful and mature she seemed to become. We took off our glasses, and then began kissing again, this time very sensually and carefully. I liked what I was feeling.

We must have kissed for a long time, because many of the cars that had been surrounding me on the street when I parked, were gone when I finally looked up.

She was still staring at me with those wise eyes, and what I thought was a flat (and far less mature) chest that I had spied in the bar, now became more. And pointed. So much so that I reached up to begin fondling the one closest to my mouth.

She began moaning and grinding herself further into my lap at this point, melting my resolve to 'just take her home' and be done with it. She was being more persuasive (sensitive and alluring) than many of my 'older' girlfriends and either of my two wives had been.

"Are you ready to take me home now?" She asked me coyly, with a cute smile. Or was that a smirk?

What the hell, I thought. She wants me to 'play' with her, I supposed that one night wouldn't hurt. She was, after all, one of the first women to actually want me in a long time. And she had basically climbed into my arms (and my lap) to be with me.

I knew that most of my friends and family would practically disown me for doing this to someone so young. But I hadn't exactly dated many women quote my own age unquote, who seemed to be half as mature as this barely adult was beginning to be.

So I drove her back to her apartment that she shared with two of those other 'girlfriends' who had dared her to try and 'give me a thrill.'

On the way there, she told me about school and her plans for beginning work after as she graduated in the spring. She also told me about her divorced parents, her father in particular having decided to leave her mother to 'shack up' with a thirty year old. This left her mother high and dry in her early forties.

But this didn't bode well for a 'long term relationship.' It's only for a night, I told myself. No need to get her panties in a bunch. It was going to be just about sex, nothing more than that. A once in a lifetime dalliance with my 'much younger woman,' that every adult male 'of a certain age' fantasizes about.

When we stepped inside her apartment, luckily her roommates hadn't gotten home yet. "I'll show you a good time, then I'll leave," I told her. But she just smiled a wicked sort of smile, and said cheerily and cheekily "Ok" with a knowing kind of smirk.

Getting inside her bedroom, I began to have serious second thoughts about all of this. My lifelong inner training was telling me, "She's too Young! What do you think you're doing, Mister?"

Looking around at the room, I didn't see a lot of girly things. I saw the periodic table on one wall, and pictures that she had draw on many of the other ones. A few rock icon posters (from the seventies and eighties) finished off the rest.

But then I turned around and she was already undressed. "That was quick," I said, with my jaw dropping open. She was not as 'petite' and childlike as I had previously thought.

Her breasts were a solid b cup and not the a cup that I'd previously taken them for. Those nipples that I had had poking in my face were not small either. In fact, they had grown quite big and long. She was slender, but not anorexicly so. Her tee shirt had hidden her slender waist and fallen so that it was not showing what her body actually looked like. She would look very nice in a bikini.

Of course, I didn't have to worry about seeing her in one. She was standing there in all her perky and picturesque glory now for my eyes to feast on Her tits and her rather glorious and massive bush below them screamed to me that this was most definitely not a 'little girl.'

"Well are you going to just going to stand there and stare? Or are you going to get your clothes off?" she said, with her hands on her curvier than I thought would be hips.

Not waiting for an answer, she walked over to me and began loosening my belt and taking both my jeans and my underwear down in one fell swoop. I took my tee shirt off and threw it on top of all our other clothes.

Then she surprised me. She dropped to her knees and began to take my shoes and socks off... while simultaneously taking my prick into her mouth and taking pretty much my full length in one suck.

"Woah," I said loudly, surprise taking me by a jolt. No, this 'little girl' was more 'experienced that I ever took her for. "Where's you learn how to do that?"

"You like?" she asked, with a wicked grin on her face. Then slurped me back in to that rather experienced mouth again.

Now it was not as if I were some enormous sized mouthful to take in, mind you. I'm not like one of those many men in porn or erotica that claim that they're eight or nine inches in length. I'm about -- maybe when I'm really excited -- about six inches. Really excited that is. And no, I am not inches round in cir-cum-frence.

But Chelsea was making me really excited. And for all my previous perception of her being a little, inexperienced girl, she was very adept at doing what she was doing.

She let me pop out, and she retreated back to her bed, sitting down and folding her arms across her lap very expectantly.

Emboldened now, I walked the few steps between us and reached out to grab her and lift her up in my arms. She squealed at this, as I threw her on the bed. She bounced a little and I crawled on and acted like I was a prowling panther, stalking up her legs. She smiled a broad smile and 'pretended' to shy away coyly.

And then our lips met again. Those sensual and not little girl lips grabbed mine and pulled me down on top of her. I acquiesced and laid down on her lightly. My body was much larger than hers, and I was afraid to put my full weight down on her for fear of crushing her.

My hands went immediately to those breasts and nipples as I began to kiss her passionately, and then one of them strayed south over that bush and into her 'jungle' below.

She squealed "MmmmMMm," and started flailing around underneath me, obviously very aroused and excited. I laid down beside her so I could feel safer without crushing her, and allowing both of my hands to play on tits and with clit while we continued kissing.

I let go of her mouth, and my head began to follow my right hand south. I took her right nipple into my mouth as I continued to run my fingers through her bush, and finding her lips down there, began running my finger up and through. I touched her clit and sent a shockwave through her body.

"Ohmygod! Right there! Don't go away! You had it!" she said, and began to moan loudly.

I heard the front door slam indicating we were no longer alone, but she seemed too wrapped up in the sensations I was giving her to notice. I heard giggling just outside her door. "Do you think they're in there?" I heard a barely audible whisper.