I met him at the library, in my writers group. It is hard to find good men, and that is a problem that only gets worse as we get older. All the good ones are taken, one way or another. He is older than I am, but that's okay. A mature man is probably good for me. Goodness knows I've had my share of losers over the years. I wasn't blessed with a good eye, when it came to picking men.
My high school sweetheart was killed by a drunk driver when he was 17. I was devastated at the loss. I didn't date for the rest of high school. I mourned him so deeply, I wouldn't let anybody near me. I threw myself into my studies and aced most of my classes. As I stood before my fellow graduates to give the valedictorian address, I wept inside for the young man that should have been sitting in the audience, waiting to take me to the rest of my graduation celebration. As it was, I never went.
I have dated a few doctors in my day. As a nurse, it seemed like a logical choice to pair with someone who understands what it is like to work in a hospital. I soon learned that doctors think they are next to God himself, and their arrogance soon overshadowed any relationship we may have had.
I was engaged to be married (twice, to the same guy). I met him in church (good place, I thought) we sang in the choir together. I loved this man with all my heart and was devastated when I found him involved in another relationship, with a man. "Oh god, you're gay! Fine, whatever, but count me out!" I was a cover for his secret relationship. I am not even going there.
Then I met HIM. I was in a writer's group at the local library. We would take turns reading the stories we had written and then discuss them and ways we could improve our skills and techniques, character formation, and story lines.
He asked me out for coffee one evening after our group, and I tried not to appear too eager. He is nine years older than myself. He is a widow (no ex-wife to have to deal with), a father to two adult daughters, and a grandfather to five grandchildren.
We sat in an all night coffee shop and talked until the sun came up. We talked about life, love, and the death of loved ones, and how to survive that. We'd been up all night and neither of us were tired. I didn't want to let him go, and he obviously felt the same way, as he suggested we go for a walk. Hand in hand, we walked along the river bank, enjoying the warmth of a beautiful spring day. We sat on a park bench, to watch the geese and ducks swim in the water under the warm sun, and he put his arm around me.
We went out for lunch as we were hungry. I asked him back to my place for dinner that evening. I was hoping with any luck at all, that we might be on to something.
I felt things that first day that I hadn't felt in years. The excitement of a new relationship. The wondrous possibility of making love. The beauty of simply being together. We were indeed on to something, for that evening as we sat and watched a movie, he put his arm around me and pulled me close to his side. I lay my head on his shoulder, and rested my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart beating, pounding actually, and it seemed to match my own pulse.
He tipped my head up and kissed me. It was a sweet kiss, tentative at first, and then a little more pressure, but that was all. He lifted his head and looked into my eyes. "I'm not going to apologize for that", he said with a smile on his face.
"Good, I don't want you to apologize. In fact, I want you to kiss me again", I encouraged him.
He's a smart man, and didn't need a second invitation. This kiss was just as sweet, but not as hesitant. I felt his tongue run along my lips, and I opened my mouth. His tongue touched mine and I was filled with something I hadn't felt in a very long time. My hand went to his neck, and I held on for dear life, because I felt like I was soaring. We broke the kiss, and sat there, with our foreheads touching. Our breathing was heavy and our pulses were racing.
"WOW! Was that just me, or did you feel that too?", he asked me.
"Oh god, you mean to say you felt that as well?" I was stunned that we could both have the same reaction to what started as a simple kiss.
I lifted my face to his, and brought his lips to mine. My hands were in his hair. I moaned as he slipped his tongue into my mouth once again.
His hands found the bottom hem of my tee-shirt and ran up my rib cage to find my breast in a lacy half cup demi bra. He cradled my small breast in his hand, and it felt so damned right. Through the lace, he grazed his thumb over the nipple and I gasped in sweet delight. I could feel the sensation right down between my legs. I could feel myself getting wet, and all we had done is kiss, while he fondled my breast.
We broke off the kiss once more and were left panting and gasping for air once again. "Oh my god!" slipped out of our mouths at the same time and we laughed at the coincidence of it.
My hands were on the buttons of his shirt, and his hands tugged at the hem of my tee-shirt. I lifted my arms and off it came over my head. I could feel him working at the hooks of my bra. He seemed as impatient as I was to feel skin to skin. I finally slipped his shirt off his shoulders, and ran my hands over his broad chest, enjoying the feel of such a vibrant man under my hands.
He now had access to both my breasts and massaged one, then the other. He leaned down and sucked one nipple into his warm, wet mouth, and rolled the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I leaned my head back and in doing so, arched my back, thrusting my breasts farther into his mouth and hand. This was pure heaven.
My hand wandered its way down his abdomen. My index finger found his navel and I rimmed it, causing him to gasp in delight. Further down, I felt the buckle of his belt. I started to undo it, and then was working on the waistband button of his slacks. I could see his manhood, inside his slacks, twitching to be set free. I could tell by the outline of his member inside his slacks that he was a good length, at least seven inches, and that would suit me just fine.
I stopped before I unzipped his slacks. I looked at him and I asked the silent question, "Do you want this?" He framed my face in his hands and kissed me deeply. It seemed an eternity before I felt his hands on the snap of my jeans. He tugged it apart, and the zipper went down, like it had a mind of its own.
My hand had worked his fly open at the same time and I reached inside his pants and felt his warm, hard throbbing member.
He reached inside my jeans and cupped my mound. My silk panties were soaking, so aroused was I.
It was all too evident that we wanted each other. He looked at me and smiled. I looked at him and blushed.
He was the first to speak, "We seem to have a, a, umm.