The Vacation

"I haven't told that story to many people. It means a lot to me that you would say that."

We drove on another mile or two until she said, "So, what is this idea you have that's better than me parking my butt in some two-bit motel room?"

I had to laugh. Jen had the most irreverent way of expressing herself.

I took a deep breath. Fortune favors the brave... "I was thinking that you should come down to Bar Harbor with me." I glanced over at Jennifer. She didn't let go of my hand and I took that as a good sign. "It seems the Powers-That-Be have decided you're stuck here in northeast Maine, so why not make the best of it? I mean, I can get you home if you want, and then you need to get back up here when your car is ready, or you can spend the week on an island that is full of restaurants with public transportation and hiking trails. You can go on a whale watch or catch the mail boat to the outer islands. It's a great place to hang out."

She seemed to be considering the idea. At least she was smiling.

"Okay, I told you about my marriage. I've been living alone now for about ten months and I'm okay with it. The truth is, it's easier than my life when I was married. I can work on my computer, I've got my hobbies, and I go for runs. If I feel like it, I can throw my canoe in the river and go for a paddle. But this vacation thing doesn't work for me. I keep wanting someone to be there, you know? I can eat dinner by myself, but it isn't any fun when I'm surrounded by couples and families. I see something interesting and there's no one to share it with. I guess what I'm asking is 'Would you be interested in having a vacation with me?' I'll try not to be too boring."

That last bit got a laugh from her. "John, in all the years I've known you, I've never thought you were boring!"

That put a smile on this old man's face!

"Are you sure you want to do this?" She seemed concerned, but I wasn't sure what was troubling her.

"Oh God, yes! Have you ever been to Acadia?"

"I drove through it once."

"It really is a very cool place if you like that sort of thing."

"...that sort of thing?"

"Yeah, there are several towns on the island with restaurants, ice cream shops, and stores, plus boat shops where they build wooden lobster boats, and hiking trails, bike rentals, horses, and a bunch of other outdoor things to do. You can even go rock climbing, but if you do that you're on your own!"

She was smiling and I was starting to see some enthusiasm. "That does sound like fun. So you think I should spend the week in Acadia?"

All this time and she had not let go of my hand.

"Actually,..." I glanced quickly in her direction. "I was hoping we might take a vacation together. I know I'm not the most exciting guy, but I think that sharing the week with you would make everything a lot more fun for me." I couldn't help myself and I started laughing.

"What's so funny?" I think she misunderstood.

"I just said spending the week with you would make my vacation better, but I can't promise it will be good for you! I mean, my thinking is pretty much one-sided on this."

Now she was laughing. "I think I would enjoy it, too."

"So does that mean you're interested?"

"Okay, count me in. Let's go down to Acadia. Spending the week with you will be a lot better than spending it alone."

"Okay, now that I hear you say it, it does sound pretty weak."

We enjoyed our drive south along Rt-1 after that, and the conversation became more relaxed. Jen became increasingly animated, which seemed to me to be an indication that she was excited about the week ahead of us, and without anything to prompt it she would again take my hand as we drove. When I glanced at her, it seemed her eyes were always on me rather than the scenery passing on the other side of the window. My spirits were lifting, and I tried to hold up my side of the conversation.

The truth be told, conversation has never been my strong suit. I'm not withdrawn or anything quite like that. I'm just not very good at small talk. Still, Jen and I had been friends for the better part of two decades. We lived in the same town and had many of the same friends at work, so the conversation flowed freely as we drove. And I drove slowly.

What I mean is I was not in any hurry to get to Bar Harbor. Once there, I'd need to find her a place to stay, and I liked her sitting next to me much more than I would enjoy her sitting in a hotel room on the other side of town.

Still, all good things come to an end and as we drove into town, I was watching the motel signs. They all said "Full!" We were approaching the Highland Motel, my place of choice when I'm in town, and I suggested we stop in to see if they had a vacancy. I pulled in front of my room and turned off the motor. Jen still had hold of my hand.

"Want to stretch your legs before we check with the office?"

"No, I need to pee!"

I laughed. I told you she didn't mince words.

"Okay, but I'm second."

As we got out of the car she said, "Grab my bag, please?"

"Of course!"

I'm such a dope. It was two-plus-two, and I didn't do the arithmetic.

I unlocked the door to my room and stepped back while she made a bee line for the bathroom. I just put her bag on the bed and dropped onto the small couch in front of the window. That's the odd thing about cars and chairs; even after sitting all day in the driver's seat, for an older guy like me your legs are still tired, and you want to sit down. I don't understand it.

Pretty soon Jen was out of the bathroom, and I took my turn. It was like I'd just run the Kentucky Derby and I stood there for a while.

When I was finished and had washed my hands, I found Jen parked on the couch.

"Long drive?" She was laughing and I was smiling like a fool.

"It didn't seem like it at the time, but it kind of snuck up on me."

I sat down next to Jen on the couch, and we had a quiet moment. She was miles ahead of me, but I didn't know it.

It wasn't yet dark, but it would be soon. "Care for a drink?"

"Oh, yeah. That sounds good to me. What have you got?"

I'd picked up a few things at the liquor store off the highway coming up, so I had a small assortment of bourbon, scotch, and tequila as in one small bottle of each. I also had a carton of lemonade to make whiskey sours, and I had bought a bottled mix so I could produce a passable Margarita. We opted for whiskey sours.

With our glasses in hand, we sat and talked as the sun went down, and eventually I made us each another whiskey sour.

"This is a nice room you have. You said you stay here whenever you're in town?"

"I've been coming to Acadia on vacations for almost thirty years. We used to stay in fancy bed & breakfasts and inns, but we eventually realized that we were spending all that money just to sleep. So we started staying here and spending our money on other things. It's always been clean, comfortable, and surprisingly inexpensive. Plus, we're right on the edge of town, and town center is just about three or four blocks from here."

"I can see why you keep coming back. I think I'd like staying here, too."

"Should we see if they have an open room?" I was praying they did not and hoping they did. I mean, I wanted her to stay in this room with me, but if she were a few doors down that would be better than across town.

In a quiet voice she said, "I already brought my bag in here."

I was looking into her eyes, and I wasn't going to hold it back any longer. "Actually, I was hoping you might consider staying here with me." There it was. I'd said it and I waited for the slap. And I waited. It never came.

Looking across the room, she said, "There's only the one bed?" It seemed like a question that answered itself with a bigger unspoken question hanging in the air.

"Yeah. About that... You do know that the moment you walked into this room you had control of everything in here, right? I mean, I would never want to offend you or hurt your feelings. We've known each other too long to ruin a great relationship by me being a jerk."

"If only every man thought that way!" She was smiling and quietly laughing to herself.

"When we go to bed, you need to lay down the law. I mean, my head's going to be telling me lies and I need you to tell me to behave myself so I will."

"You don't want to behave yourself?" It seemed to come as a surprise to her, or maybe she was looking for confirmation.

I paused and looked at her for the longest time. She never looked away. "No, I don't."

"Maybe I won't lay down the law. What then?"

There was only one answer to that question, so I kissed her, and she kissed me back. We broke the kiss slowly and we both smiled.

She took a deep breath and said, "John?"

"Yes?"

"I didn't pack any pajamas." Now we were both quietly laughing, but it was laughter born of joy rather than humor.

"Actually, I didn't, either."

"A week's vacation and you packed light?"

"No, I never wear them unless it's very cold."

She glanced down at the carpet for a moment, and then looking back she said, "So, what are we going to do about that?"

"Well, option one is we sleep in our clothes. Option two is we sleep in our underwear, briefs and panties, and you lay down the law. Option three is we sleep natural, and you don't just lay down the law, you scream it!"

She looked at me for the longest time. I could see doubt and anticipation both in her eyes.

"John?"

"Yes?"

"I'm not twenty-five anymore. I don't have a hard body and things that used to be self-supporting aren't."

She had genuine concern, but she wasn't telling me anything I didn't already know.

"I'm not twenty-five anymore, either. Things that used to hang tight now hang low. In fact, I sit on them if I'm not careful."

There's that nervous laugh again. I was enjoying that laugh. Good things seemed to follow that laugh.

I paused to gather my thoughts. "Jen, even if we sleep in our clothes, sharing a bed is an intimate act. I mean, I can count on one hand the number of women I've shared a bed with. In my entire life and for the past thirty-six, actually thirty-eight years, it's my just my wife. You can build a brick wall down the middle of that bed, but our sleeping together is still an intimate act based on acceptance and trust. That's the thing about intimacy. It isn't a competition; it's sharing who we are with someone who doesn't judge us for not being something else. Besides, history has shown that men disappoint women far more often than women disappoint men!"

She was smiling a very nervous smile. "I don't want to tell you how long it's been since a man saw me in my underwear."

That put an even bigger smile on my face. "You do know that's what men like to hear, don't you?"

"No they don't!"

"Oh yes, they do! Men like to know that they can walk into a room with a thousand other men and think, 'None of you know what I know, and I hope you never do!' Men aren't big on sharing."

She was still laughing quietly. "Well then, you're in luck because it's a very short list and you don't know either of them."

The word "either" wasn't lost on me. Either means two and two is a very small number. Gazing into her eyes, there was only one thing to say. "Jennifer, will you sleep with me tonight?"

She paused for a moment. "Yes, John." That's all she said, but it was everything I wanted to hear, so I kissed her, and I didn't stop. We kissed for a long time, pausing, and then kissing again.

With the sun long down, she looked at me with a smile and said, "John, it's been a long day. I need a shower before we go to bed."

I started to suggest we could shower together, but somehow that seemed premature. So I acquiesced and watched her take her bag into the bathroom and close the door. For the next twenty minutes I could hear water running, flushing, and such, but I didn't have my ear to the door. I was busy trying to decide what I should do next. That's when I realized that I had better shower, too. All that remained was to decide what we were wearing to bed.

The Highland is a nice motel, but it isn't the sort of place that provides its guests with plush robes. The towels and wash cloths were clean, the rug was always well vacuumed, but you were expected to dress yourself. So when Jennifer came out of the bathroom, she was wearing a large towel. I saw a T-shirt on her shoulders, but that could mean she was wearing it like a short nightgown. It was either options two or three, but which one? There was only one way to find out, so I gathered together a few things and as I walked toward the bathroom I turned and asked, "So, is it option two or three?"

She smiled and opened her towel rather self-consciously. I saw panties and a T-shirt with a clear view of what was under them. These weren't granny panties, and they weren't slut wear, either. What I saw was a woman I longed for showing more of herself than I or most men had ever seen. I saw nipples poking through her T and pubic hair showing through her panties. The sight of her put a smile on my face that was going to remain for days to come, and she slyly closed her towel and wrapped it around herself again.

"Go take your shower."

"Yes, mam." I turned and took two steps toward the bathroom door, then turned back and asked, "You are going to be here when I come out, aren't you?"

She just laughed quietly, bit her lower lip, and nodded her head.

I was tempted to make short work of the shower so I could get back to the bedroom with Jenn, but I knew that cleanliness was next to Jennyness, or I'd better be clean if I wanted to get close to her, so I was very thorough in my cleansing. As I scrubbed, I thought about her and what I'd seen. We weren't young and her breasts weren't what you might call perky. Time and gravity have a way of wreaking havoc on a woman's figure. Still, I saw two round globes a bit lower than they probably were in her youth and more than a hint of camel toe calling me.

Twenty minutes later I walked back into the room shaved, showered, and brushed, and I was wearing the same basic attire that she had worn when I started my shower. I skipped the towel. Okay, I will admit that white briefs and a T-shirt is not the sexiest look for a man, but it's what I've worn all my life and I was too old to change. She watched me walk toward her, took two steps, and then stopped, discarded her towel, and kissed me. This was the best kiss I'd received in a decade or more. This was a kiss with promise and passion and desire. This was a kiss that said any reservations were gone and a decision has been made. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. The two layers of cotton that separated us were too thin to hide my enthusiasm or my intentions, and when the kiss ended she was smiling.

"Is that for me?"

"Yes, if you'll have me."

She stepped away from me and I thought we were headed to the couch. I was wrong. She walked along the side of the bed, took the spread at the corner, and began to turn down the bed covering. I stood frozen in one place watching her breasts move about under her T-shirt. My wife had small round buttons for nipples, but Jennifer had large brown nipples that stood proud of her areolas and poked through the cloth of her shirt. I longed to have them in my mouth.

"Wait!"

She turned with some alarm and looked at me.

"I just want to look at you for a moment."

That might have been too much for her. She turned every shade of red from up her neck and across her face.

"I just want to look at you." I repeated.

She turned toward me slowly, tentatively, and I drank her in. I saw her blush, her hard nipples trying to push their way through her T-shirt, and her bush casting a dark image through her panties, and I saw the growing dampness between her thighs.

I walked toward her, took her face in my hands, and I kissed her with all the tenderness and affection I had within me.

When we parted I felt her hand brush along my excited member. With a smile and a gleam in her eyes, she asked, "Are you going to help?"

With what I am sure was the goofiest grin a man ever wore, I nodded and walked to the other side where I assisted in the task of turning down the bed together. One and then two turns of the bedspread and we went back to the head to turn down the sheet. All the while my eyes were on Jennifer. The curtains were already drawn, and we turned off the lamps as we slipped between the sheets.

There was enough light entering the room and it wasn't difficult for me to find her lying on her side of the bed. I slipped one arm under her neck and the other I wrapped around her waist, and then I drew myself to her side and let my manhood rest against her leg. Her smile encouraged me, and we drew ourselves together with the first deep, probing kiss that we shared. There would be many more to come.

As I kissed her neck, I slipped my hand up her side and across her breast. It was soft and warm as I played with her nipple through her T. It was big and beautiful, and she moaned as I ran my fingers around her breast and across her nipple. With my erection pressed against her leg leaving no doubt of my desires, I said, "If you want option 2, this would be a good time to tell me. Otherwise, I am rapidly losing control of myself and I'm voting for option 3."

She reached down toward her waist with both hands, forcing me to separate from her, and I thought she was rejecting me. However, she took hold of her T-shirt and lifted it over her head and off, then threw it over onto the couch. "I choose option 3." and as simple as that she lay back onto the mattress and reached her arms around my neck to resume kissing me.

I knew this was a big decision for Jennifer. As "a woman of a certain age", she was self-conscious of her figure. I already knew this, and she was throwing away one of her last vestiges of security. I was beyond delighted.

After a second brief separation, I added my T-shirt to the growing pile on the couch. As we lay together, our legs entwined, I could feel the warmth of her breasts against my chest and her nipples pressed hard against me. I couldn't resist any longer and slid down her torso to kiss her breasts. First her right, then her left, and then her right again, back and forth and in between and beneath, it was as if the soft warmth of her breasts was healing me. Every man feels the urge to return to the breast and be nurtured again. It was as if all the pain and frustration of my past marriage was leaving me as this loving woman held my head to her breasts and nourished my soul.

I climbed higher to meet her waiting lips with my member sliding up the side of her leg, and as I kissed her my hand slowly slid down her side to her waist and below. I caressed her bottom and ran my hand along her outer thigh, then around her leg to slide my hand along her inner thigh. Her lips were swollen, and her panties were almost dripping wet, which I thought for a woman our age was a portent of wonderful things to come. She moaned quietly as I slid my hand to the top of her panties, and then I gently slipped beneath the waistband. Her stomach was smooth and warm, and while we were both far from being twenty-something hard bodies, the feel of her skin under my fingers sent electricity through my body. My hand reached her pubic hair, and it was soft. As I passed my hand over her mound, I could feel her legs slowly spread. I knew it was an invitation to go further; so as I gently passed my hand across her sex and felt her lips beneath her pubic triangle, I parted her hair to run my finger along her inviting pussy. Yes, I said "pussy". To me, that word has always been a term of great affection and admiration. It is a loving companion that is warm and welcoming once it accepts you but requires respect at all times. Under my fingers and between her lips I could feel the folds of her sex guiding me home.