The Mature One Ch. 00 Pt. 01

Part 1: Big J

He was perfect. He was 183 cm tall and had a lean and athletic body. His legs were well-toned from all the biking and hiking. I remembered the panoramic pictures he would send me from his biking shenanigans, and I could tell that those countless hours spent exercising had toned his calves and thighs like those of a Greek god's statue. He had silky salt and pepper hair and the fine lines on his face reflected his experience and gave his looks immense character. He had deep brown eyes and a piercing look. But if you looked closely, you could see the pain in his eyes from a recent separation from a twenty-five year-long marriage.

It was 3 AM on a hot summer night. I stood in his hotel room, and he asked me if I could locate all the seven swimming pools in the hotel looking down from the window. His room was on the 22^nd floor. He left my side as he assigned me this project to find all the pools. I could hear him moving around in the room while I continued my search.

It was late and dark. The hotel had very few lights on, and I had had too much to drink on an empty stomach, for my hazy eyes to spot all the pools. I struggled and was able to identify maybe two. I felt like a little child assigned with a counting project who was trying hard to succeed, and to impress my teacher.

Suddenly, music started playing in the background. He put on the first song he had

shared with me on text months ago. I could instantly recognize the tune because I enjoyed it as I had played it repeatedly many times, sometimes on loop when listening privately and many times in the rental during my spring vacation with some friends four months ago. My mind raced to figure out why he had picked that specific tune. Did he associate that song with the beginning of our strange but beautiful friendship... or relationship?

I met Big J when I got a new finance job over seven months back. We had the same job in the same team, but Big J and I lived in different time zones, in two cities in very different parts of the country. Although we had met in person only a few times, we started talking a lot a few months ago. Our conversations started with sharing our mutual challenges at work but soon drifted to everything under the sun. We joked and laughed about the challenges and bad, awkward or funny situations at work. We used sarcasm to express ourselves and had that in common, and often our perspectives on work or non-work-related topics were similar too. If we disagreed with each other, we heard the other person's standpoint with an open mind and had a healthy, bringing varied perspectives into the conversation. He treated me like an equal, even though Big J was almost two decades older than I was. Age was a non-issue, or at least seemed like one. We inched closer as we continued to share our lives bit by bit. Every day with each other in conversations laced with humor and sarcasm. This brought happiness to me and, I hoped, to him too.

A few days into our conversations, he told me he had recently separated from his wife. I was shaken for a few seconds because I felt Big J and I were not close enough for him to feel comfortable sharing such personal information. My mind immediately supposed that his recent separation might be the driver for this strange friendship we were developing. Big J was obviously going through a hard phase in life. As a result, my first instinct was that I should be cautious and maybe distance myself from him. I started reducing the frequency of our communication. He obviously noticed the gradual change I made and reached out. I told him that I recognized it was a hard time for him and I didn't want to bother him with unnecessary chatter, and that I was trying to give him space. He insisted that he did not need any.

We went back to texting each other all day again and soon those texts kept flowing even after work hours. When I went on vacation, I texted him pictures from my travel and he asked me for more. He talked about music, and yes, in his personal time, he is a poet and musician too. He shared with me many playlists of his favorite music and a couple of those playlists he would put together especially for me. He wrote poems about my travel. I admired his outdoor and adventurous lifestyle coupled with his creativity.

I wondered what this was that I shared with him as I tried to find a label for it.

Was it some kind of strange friendship? Maybe.

Was it a relationship? Not really.

I couldn't pin down the reason he chose to play this song in this moment—but it felt perfect. As the music continued to play, he left his phone on the nightstand by the bed and walked over to me.

"Did you locate all seven pools?" He questioned in his soft but firm voice.

"There aren't seven pools to locate. Just two," I replied with a child-like innocence hoping to sound confident.

He inched closer to me and stood right by my side and pointed the seven pools with his finger touching the glass of the window as we looked down. In that moment, I realized how hazed my mind was from the strong drinks I had had at the theatre show Big J and I had been to, together. But now I could see the dark outlines of all seven pools as he pointed them out to me in his usual teacher-like manner. And I listened attentively, fascinated as always by his worldly knowledge and keen observation skills.

Big J loved reading and learning. He was curious about history, religions of the world, spirituality, politics... to name a few. He also had keen observation skills and noticed the finer details of inter-personal relationships and things.

As I finished counting to seven and I was convinced that all seven pools existed, he cupped my face with his soft hands and turned me towards him. He pressed his lips on to mine. We started kissing passionately again. While his lips explored mine, his hands moved to the back of my neck and undid the strings of my yellow halter dress. The chiffon dress slipped down onto the carpeted floor and made a circle around my feet. I was standing in Big J's room, his lips touching mine as he kissed me with passion, and I reciprocated with the same. I stood there soaking his passion minus my dress, wearing only a black lacy thong.

In that moment, his hands moved down to the back of my waist and he picked me up in his arms. He walked over to the king-sized bed where he gently laid me down. As I lay on bed—Big J's bed—my eyes looked at Big J's face in the darkness of this hotel room. All I could see was the outline of his athletic body structure by the gleam of the lights from outside of the window as he stood next to the bed. He bent over me and once again started to kiss me I could feel the warmth from his tall and athletic body. He broke the kiss and moved away, slowly pulling my thong down using his soft fingers, my eyes still glued to the outline of his face. He then put his hands on my knees to spread my legs and bent down to touch me between my thighs with his mouth! His tongue was warm and soft and moved skillfully between my thighs, caressing the cheeks of my labia as I lay there drunk and hazed, experiencing bliss. He continued working on me, moving from the outside of my clit to the inside, circling his tongue.

I had not had a man touch me like that in a very long time and I let my mind drift back into this warm Big J bliss.

As he ran his tongue on my pussy from one cheek to another in a brisk, continuous motion, I moaned sweetly, hoping to let him know the effect that what he was doing had on me. My fingers ran through his grey hair as he continued touching me in a way that sent waves of pleasure through my spine. The pleasure continued building, following the same rhythm as synchronized with my moaning. "Oh J! You're so good," I whispered as I lifted my butt and arched my back while gripping his hair tightly as I kept moaning peaking with pleasure.

After a few minutes, I lifted my torso from the bed and extended my hand to pull him towards me. I was ready and wanted him with me up here on his bed. I kissed Big J's lips and mouth, stealing a taste of myself on his lips.

We continued to kiss passionately as he touched my body with his big but soft hands. My head continued to get hazier as Big J passionately touched parts of my body, feeling me, enjoying me, caressing me like I was his. As my hand reached out, looking for his penis in the darkness, to stroke his shaft. I could feel his warm but firm, rock-hard penis inside of my palm, with my four fingers wrapped around it.

I am 163 cm tall or short, depending on where you stand, and my hands are even smaller for someone my height.

His considerable manhood was swollen to a size which my tiny hand struggled to grip... or maybe it was the vodka, I couldn't tell. I stroked his shaft and circled the tip of his circumcised penis with my thumb at which, he groaned in pleasure. In this instant, I knew he liked what I was doing, hoping a little bit that he liked my touch and maybe he liked me too.

Muse continued to croon electronic rock "Madness" in the background.