Later that summer, Gloria quit her job at a clothing store in town so she could spend more time filming content for fans. I happily let her use my spare bedroom as a studio, and I was even happier to participate in a series of videos she created for foot fetishists. I had no idea so many men were turned on by feet. And Gloria's were beautiful, dainty with perfect arches. She indulged in routine pedicures, letting generous fans choose the color of nail polish. 

Sometimes I played the role of a dirty old man worshipping her feet. She giggled while rubbing her soles over my face, and ordering me to suck her toes. I was usually naked as I performed this task, so there was no way to hide my erection.

Gloria even gave me a footjob, which her fetish fans absolutely loved.

On other occasions, she worked alone, doing private shows. I'd lurk outside the closed spare bedroom door, listening to her moan as she played with herself on cam. I wondered if she knew I was eavesdropping, and if it made the job more exciting for her.

As the weeks went by, I kept an eye on the calendar. A sense of dread settled into my gut with each passing day, for I knew Gloria would soon be returning to college.

And I'd go back to my lonely life as an unemployed fifty-three-year-old.

"We do a great business," she told me more than once. I believed that was how she viewed our relationship: as just business.

Until she showed up at my door a little before midnight in late July.

I was surprised to hear the doorbell's ring; Gloria had made no mention of coming over. But I knew it couldn't be anyone else at this hour. Though I was already in bed, reading a book, I quickly rose and strode toward the front of the house in just my boxers. Maybe Gloria had a burst of inspiration for a new scene, and she couldn't wait till tomorrow to get busy filming.

After turning on a lamp in the living room and then flipping on the porch light, I unlocked the door. Opening it, I discovered my neighbor standing on the porch, her face streaked with tears. As soon as she saw me, she began to sob.

"Gloria, what's wrong?" I asked while ushering her inside. "What's happened?"

She tried to answer, but only a pitiful whimper escaped her lips. When she reached for me, I immediately embraced her. She wore a tank top, and her bare arms felt cool despite the humid summer air outside.

I knew better than to press her. Instead, I held her close and waited until she'd calmed a little. Listening to her weep, I grew terrified she'd gone to meet a fan and had been hurt during the encounter.

"Josh was..." She pressed her face against my bare chest, so her words were muffled as she went on. "He was killed in a car accident earlier tonight."

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry." I stroked her hair. "I'm so, so sorry."

I knew Josh was her older brother. Earlier in the summer, when she and I were having dinner at my table, she mentioned that the age difference of almost ten years between her and her sibling made it difficult for them to be close.

She also told me Josh had done very well for himself after going to college on a full scholarship. He lived and worked in a large city about five hours north, and his business was a major success.

"He's my parents' favorite child," Gloria had said matter-of-factly during that meal several weeks ago.

"I'm sure that's not true," I'd replied. And she'd merely given me a crooked smile, as if I couldn't possibly understand.

Now, I led her to the couch and sat down by her side. I grabbed a nearby blanket so I could wrap it around her, for her teeth were chattering. I feared she was in shock.

"I'm sorry to come over so late," she said through more tears.

"You know you're always welcome." I retrieved the box of tissues from the coffee table and placed them in her lap. "And I'll always be here for you."

Those words seemed to be a balm for Gloria's grief. Turning to me, she blinked away more tears. As she searched my face, I rubbed her back, doing my best to offer comfort.

"You're always so kind, and I don't deserve it," she said quietly. "My parents don't even love me."

I shook my head, puzzled. "Why would you say that? Of course they do."

Gloria's shoulders jerked from the force of her sobs. "If you'd heard my mom tonight, after the police called..." She squeezed her eyes shut, as if to blot out the memory. "She screamed and wailed. She made sounds that will haunt me forever, Peter." Lowering her head, she hid behind a curtain of tousled dark hair. "A little later, when my dad was trying to calm her down, she said, right in front of me, 'Josh was my world. He was my joy. I can't go on without him.'"

I opened my mouth to tell Gloria her mom was devastated, unaware of what she was really saying. But she rushed on before I could say a word.

"It was like I didn't even exist!" Her face crumpled, and she began to cry so hard that I feared she would be sick. "It was as if they had only one child!"

I drew Gloria into a fierce hug. "She didn't mean it," I said. "Your mother loves you, sweetheart."

We sat there, arms wrapped around each other, until she cried herself to exhaustion. Slumped against me, she asked, "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course you can, but do you need to let your parents know you're staying with a friend? I don't want them to worry."

Gloria just shook her head. "They don't care where I am."

She let me lead her to the bathroom, where I washed her face with a warm washcloth. She released a soft moan as I gently brushed the tangles from her hair.

Finally, I half-guided, half-carried her to my bedroom. She seemed dazed, unable to care for herself, so I removed her shoes and clothes until she wore just her panties. Then I pulled one of my roomy T-shirts over her head.

Minutes later, we lay together in the darkness. I stayed close but didn't touch her; I wanted to give her the space she might need.

It was Gloria who nestled against me. Turning on my side so we were facing each other, I dared to gather her into an embrace.

"I'm sorry," I told her again. I wished there was more I could say.

She lifted her hand and caressed my cheek. I was grateful for her touch, grateful she'd come to me when she needed help.

Weaving her fingers through my hair, she drew me closer. Surprised as I was, I readily let her guide my mouth to hers.

Her lips were wet with the tears that kept falling. Our first kiss was tender, yet edged with need. Of course, my need was different from Gloria's. It went beyond lust or physical desire, or the search for solace. I ached for all of this woman. Even the flawed parts.

Several seconds passed before she broke the kiss. I licked my lips, tasting salt. She managed to inch even closer, as if longing to burrow inside me.

I held her, not daring to move until she finally fell asleep.

*****

I didn't see Gloria in the days leading up to her brother's funeral, though I often checked in via text. Her replies were brief, revealing little, and I didn't know if I was being a help to her or a hindrance.

On the day Josh was laid to rest, I dressed in a charcoal-gray suit. I felt a heaviness within me, a leaden grief over Gloria's loss. I wondered how she was faring.

I got my answer when I arrived at the graveside service. Gloria's parents arranged for the funeral to be held outside, in the small cemetery on the edge of town where Josh was to be buried. They believed he would have wanted it that way. 

I joined the other mourners, and as I paid my respects to Gloria and her parents, I tried to hide my alarm at how wan the young woman looked. It appeared she hadn't slept since leaving my house. She seemed smaller somehow, withering in her simple black dress and low heels.

The day was mostly overcast, with sunlight occasionally streaking through the clouds. A breeze cooled the air, so I wasn't sweating in my suit coat. As the minister delivered the eulogy, I remained at the edge of the crowd. Every once in a while, Gloria's mother released a devastated wail, and her husband kept a firm arm around her.

And poor Gloria... she was alone in her anguish. Even the friends she'd grown up with kept their distance, as if they feared her sorrow was contagious. Though I longed to approach her, I kept my distance, too. I knew people would question a neighbor her father's age drawing close to comfort her.

However, once the funeral had ended and the mourners separated into small groups, I saw Gloria standing by herself, not far from the open grave. Meanwhile, her parents were surrounded by family and friends.

My approach was tentative; I feared Gloria would spurn my attempts to console her. The sun's rays broke free of the clouds long enough to fall on her sallow face. The light danced upon her hair.

I stood near her side, not daring to speak. She stared straight ahead, at some point past the casket and grave, past the headstones of others buried in the cemetery.

When she began to speak, her voice was so tinny and shredded that I hardly recognized it.

"I always wanted to be closer to Josh," she said. "But he was so much older. We really didn't have anything in common, and I never got that chance." 

I looked over at her as I listened. She paused and offered a halfhearted shrug. 

"Now I never will." Gloria's lips quivered, and her eyes flooded with tears.

I couldn't stop myself from moving closer. She turned to me, seeking comfort.

I wrapped my arms around her, in front of all the others. I soothed her as she held onto me with a grip that bordered on painful.

Even after several minutes passed, Gloria didn't let go. Instead, she whispered, "Thank you, Peter. Thank you..."

*****

I went home after the funeral, and Gloria stayed with her parents. I had no idea when I would see her again. I was afraid she would shut me, and everyone else, out of her life.

But that very night, she again rang the doorbell, not long after nine. I was quick to answer, finding her still wearing that same solemn dress. Her eyes were swollen from crying.

We spoke little; what else could be said? She declined my offer of a drink. Rather than sit with me on the couch, she seized my hand and led me to my bedroom. 

This time, Gloria was the one to undress me.

"Are you sure?" I asked more than once. 

And more than once, she replied, "I'm sure."

Yet I hesitated to touch her even when we stood naked beside the bed. She slid her hands over my chest, and then lower, until my semi-erect cock was encircled by her fingers.

I tried to slow my breathing, to temper my excitement, as she stroked me to full hardness. Finally, I couldn't hold back, and I drew her to me.

She tilted her head upward so I could kiss her mouth. We started out chastely, as if unsure of ourselves. But then her lips parted and I slid my tongue between them. She moaned while I fondled her breast. Beneath my caress, her nipple hardened to a stiff peak.

I dipped my head to suckle that one, and then the other. My hand strayed between Gloria's thighs, seeking out her clit. She started rocking her hips, eager as I rubbed that rapidly swelling bud.

"Make love to me," she whispered. "For this entire summer, I've wanted this. I've wanted you."

I struggled to hide my astonishment. All this time, I thought Gloria had sought me out in order to build her fanbase. I assumed she kept me around to make us both some money.

She actually grinned at my expression. "Don't look so surprised, Daddy."

Our next kiss was harder, with tongue and teeth, and a desperate groan rising from my throat. We ended up toppling onto my neatly made bed. Gloria wrapped her arms and legs around me, her hands clinging until they clawed at my skin. I kissed her like she was mine.

She reached between us in a clumsy effort to guide my cock inside her. "Now," she demanded. "I need you right now."

I took over, sliding my tip along her wet folds. When I positioned myself at her entrance, she gazed up at me and nodded fervently.

That first thrust, and the subsequent heat of her flesh surrounding me, proved powerful enough to make my jaw slacken.

"My God," I managed to say, "you feel incredible!"

"So do you," she said, then drew me down for another kiss.

I'd never been known for my stamina, even when I was a younger man. But tonight, I was determined to last. My hips moved at a languid pace, slowly building up to a stronger rhythm. I feared what Gloria would see in my eyes, so I buried my face in her neck as we made love.

She stroked my hair, her pleasured moans morphing into cries. I groaned at the feel of her muscles tightening around me.

"It's all yours," she said through shallow breaths. "Take it, Daddy!"

My nip at Gloria's neck drove her to rake her nails along my back. Lifting my head, I saw she was flushed, with that glassy look of arousal. In those moments, I would have done anything she asked. I was completely hers.

I gasped when she came with a scream. The contractions milked my cock until I feared I would erupt right then.

Somehow, I withstood her first orgasm, and then the second. By now, I was covered in sweat. Even as my energy flagged, my hips pumped with unrestrained need.

I paused only to slip my arms beneath her. I cradled her head in my hand, and the kiss I planted on her mouth was fierce enough to make her buck against me. 

I broke the kiss as my climax neared. Gloria watched me, her eyes wide and full of wonder.

"I love you," she said.

Her words forced a whimper from me. Studying her face, I was tempted to say, You can't love me. I almost replied, You're too young. We hardly know each other.

But then she smiled, as though the confession filled her with joy, and I knew I couldn't steal that light from her.

So I told her the truth. 

Just before I came, I said, "I love you, too."