It all began with a knock on the front door. Pulling myself up from the couch, I limped over and opened it. On my porch stood a girl who looked, at a guess, maybe sixteen or seventeen. A large gym bag sat beside her.

My visitor looked rather worse for wear. Her brown hair was limp and matted. Her clothes were dirty and appeared to have been slept in for a few nights. Only her piercing green eyes seemed to have any life in them.

“May I help you?” I asked, puzzled by who this could be.

“Are you Paul Tilman?” she asked.

The girl sounded nervous, her voice quivering a little as she spoke.

“No, I am not,” I told her, “I bought this house from Mr. Tilman two years ago.”

Her face fell.

“Oh shit, no. All this way for nothing,” she groaned, looking ready to cry.

“What do you want with him?” I asked, now concerned as well as puzzled.

“I think he’s my biological father. At least that’s what I figured out using papers from my mom’s estate. I was hoping to get help from him.”

“I still have contact info for the real estate agent he used for the sale. I can see if she knows where he went. That might be a start.”

She lit up a little at that.

“Could you? Please? I basically have nothing right now. No money, no home, nothing. All Mom left me was bills and an apartment I couldn’t afford. The landlord evicted me as soon as the funeral was over.”

“Come on in. I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Really?” she said, clearly surprised.

“Really. For starters, would you like a shower? I’ll dig up something clean for you to wear, too. I’m Evan Forsyth.”

The girl started giggling, clearly a bit stunned at this turn of events.

“I’m Rebecca Martin. Most just call me, ‘Becky’,” she responded, perking up.

“Nice to meet you, Becky. I’ll make some calls while you clean up.”

The agent did not know much. Paul Tilman was married and the couple had moved to the US to pursue career opportunities. That was about all she could tell me. A couple neighbours I reached said much the same. I searched on places like LinkedIn and Facebook but turned up nothing that seemed likely.

When Becky emerged from the bathroom, she was a different person. Her hair now hung straight and clean down her back, a mane of gorgeous dark brown. I could now see that she was quite pretty, especially with those bright green eyes gazing out from under her bangs. She also looked a bit older. I revised my estimate of Becky’s age up to maybe as high as twenty.

“Wow, you clean up nice,” I blurted out, almost immediately regretting it.

Becky giggled and blushed rather than getting upset.

“Thank you. And thanks for the shower and clothes. I feel better already. Did you learn anything?”

I sighed and told her, “Paul Tilman and his wife moved to the US, to California. That’s about all anyone could tell me. LinkedIn came up empty, too. There’s a lot of Paul Tilmans, but none that matched the profile of having moved from Eversham to California about two years ago.”

From the look on Becky’s face, I could sense her heart sinking.

“I guess I really am all by myself. Fuck,” the young woman spat out.

I walked over and put a hand on her shoulder.

“No, you’re not. I live alone in a three-bedroom house, which means I have two unused bedrooms. How about you move into one of them? At least until you get on your feet.”

The young woman was speechless for a moment.

“Oh my God, for real? You would do that?” she finally said, astonishment in her voice, “I mean, I can’t pay rent or anything. Not yet.”

“We can deal with that later,” I told her, “I used to own a business in town and have connections in the community. Maybe I can help you find work. What experience do you have?”

“I did finish high school. I worked cash in a store for about a year, then staffed the phones and took orders at a lawn care company. That’s about it.”

I nodded.

“Customer service experience is good,” I commented, “there’s always businesses looking for that.”

“Look, I can’t pay you, but can I at least help around the house?” Becky asked, the light back in her eyes, “Cut the grass, clean, do dishes, that sort of thing. I can even cook. Mom taught me.”

I smiled and told her, “That would be perfect. I have chronic health problems due to injuries from a car crash. That’s why I sold my business and retired young. I have to hire out a lot of the house and yard work. Maybe you taking over that work is enough rent for now. Maids and lawn care workers don’t come cheap.”

Becky yelped happily and threw her arms around me in a big, tight hug. I hugged her back, trying not to enjoy the feel of a young female body against mine too much.

“Can I do some laundry?” she asked after we let go of each other.

“Sure. My house is now yours. If you need to buy fresh clothes, I can spot you some cash, too. There’s a Giant Tiger and a Value Village in a plaza not far from here.”

“Thank you so much. This is not what I came for, but it is much more than I expected,” my new housemate said, “Thank you, Evan. Thank you so much.”

I shrugged and smiled at her.

“I wasn’t looking for a housemate, either, but somehow I think this is going to be good for us both.”

I had lived alone for nearly a decade since my divorce, so I was actually a bit unsure about sharing digs again. However, I figured that this arrangement would probably be temporary and short-term. I could not see a woman of her age wanting to crash with a guy on the edge of fifty for long. However long it lasted, though, I could at least enjoy having some company.

I awoke to the sound of rain the next morning. My bad leg was throbbing, and I felt a migraine looming. For a while, I lay still, considering whether to remain in bed. That’s often how I dealt with the rough days. Then I remembered Becky and realized that she might need help finding stuff for breakfast.

Dragging myself out of bed, I grabbed a cane and limped to the kitchen. Only when I saw the young woman standing by the coffee maker did I realize I was wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. My morning habit of not bothering with clothes until I absolutely had to was going to have to change in these new circumstances. At least I didn’t have morning wood.

I took some comfort from the fact that my new housemate was not exactly overdressed either. Becky wore just panties and a rather threadbare t-shirt. As ragged as her attire was, it drew my eye with a camel toe and visible nipple bumps.

“Good morning. Found everything?” I asked, giving her a welcoming smile.

“I think so. This coffee machine is similar to the one Mom had and I found instant oatmeal in the cupboard. You look like hell, though.”

“I mentioned my health issues. I suffer from chronic pain due to the crash. Bad weather like this seems to aggravate things.”

“Oh no, I’m sorry. Are you going to be okay?”

I sighed and shrugged.

“Let’s just say I won’t be in your hair much today. I will likely just pop a Naproxen and crash in the den or living room for a while until it kicks in.”

Becky smiled.

“Maybe I can keep you company. I’m just going to wash and inventory all the clothes I have. Then if the weather breaks, I will head down to the stores you mentioned to see what I can find. ”

An hour later, I was relaxing in the den and contemplating a return to my bed. Downstairs, I could hear the washer running. Becky appeared at the door, now wearing denim cutoffs and a tank top. The outfit looked nice, even a bit sexy, on her but was at least less revealing than her sleepwear.

“Need a coffee or anything?” she asked.

“I’m good for now. How’s the laundry going?”

“I have a lot of shopping to do. Threw out a bunch of stuff. Being homeless just for a couple months took a real toll on what I had.”

“There’s cash in the drawer nearest the kitchen door. Probably a couple hundred. That should get you started. If I felt better, I would come along and put it on my card.”

“For those stores, a couple hundred should be a good start, I think. I need something that looks nice for interviews. And pyjamas or nighties of some kind. Sorry I kind of showed myself off this morning.”

I snorted.

“Fear not. I was equally guilty of immodesty, I think.”

Becky sat on the little couch in the corner across from my chair.

“Evan, I want to thank you again. I am a bit surprised at you taking in a total stranger. What if I rob you or scam you or something?”

I considered my answer, then told her, “You seemed legitimately destitute and in despair. I guess I am just too nice a person to think someone like that is faking. And, let’s face it, you’re also taking a risk accepting my help. What if I am a serial rapist or pimp you out to my buddies or something?”

Becky chuckled, but also nodded.

“Point taken. I do have a question about our relationship, Evan. Is there … do you expect me to sleep with you at some point?”

I raised my eyebrows. The question seemed a legitimate one. After all, I was a middle-aged man who had offered help and a room to a young woman. A lot of guys in that position would take advantage of the situation.

“It is not expected, no. I am here to help you get on your feet, not get you into bed. Not saying that you are not attractive, but I am not the kind of guy who puts that kind of price on giving help. Your ‘rent’ is purely helping with the house and yard work.”

“Thank you. I was worrying a bit about it before you got up this morning.”

“That’s happened to you before, I take it? Guys expecting sex in return for helping you?”

“It has. My old boss at the lawn care company ‘helped’ me a lot but expected me to be his ‘sugarbaby’ in return.”

“And you did it?”

My housemate looked a bit embarrassed.

“I did. He had some ... rather specific demands, too. Things I would never do again but did because I felt that I had to.”

She looked downcast, even close to tears.

“I guess I don’t have to tell you that I am no virgin,” she went on, “I lost that at sixteen. There have been a bunch of guys since, most of them exploiting my circumstances to get my body. A few outright rapes even. Sex became just a thing I did to get stuff. I finally decided that enough was enough and have been celibate for a few months now.”

“I’m sorry to hear this,” I told her, “Guys can be assholes where sex is concerned, I guess. I’ve probably been one myself before but I promise, my kindness to you is just that. It’s not a ploy to get laid. And I hope you eventually find someone who will help you actually enjoy sex and get what you want from it.”

We were silent for a moment, then the laundry stopped.

“Got to go look after the wash,” Becky said, “Call me if you want me to bring you anything. I will take care of lunch. I found some stuff in your cupboards that I can use to make something nice.”

“Thanks, Becky. I am starting to like having you around already.”

As it turned out, her arrival was more fortuitous than I expected. My relapse of that day stretched out into the next few days. I had a string of medical appointments, new drugs, and a lot of time spent resting in bed or the den chair.

Becky rose to the occasion. She arranged transportation for appointments, since I couldn’t drive in my condition and she did not have a license. She took over the cooking and even acted as something of a nurse for me. It was far more than I had expected when I offered Becky the use of my spare room, but I was very grateful for her presence.

I awoke one morning as things were starting to improve to find my cock rock hard and in need of some erotic release. A vague memory of an erotic dream lingered at the edge of my consciousness. I figured it was mostly just me feeling better and getting my libido back. That was heartening, at least.

Wrapping my fingers around my shaft, I began to slowly move my hand up and down. The feeling of arousal began to increase. I moved my hips a little in a fucking motion, treating my fist as a pussy.

“Oh shit!” gasped a female voice.

I sat up in shock to see Becky standing in the door with a coffee and my morning pills. Her face was beet red. She wore a neat, slightly sheer, white blouse with a navy skirt that was a little too short. It was probably the nicest I had seen my new housemate dress.

“Sorry. Figured I had the time and privacy,” I told her.

Smiling, Becky put the mug and pills on the dresser. Then she came over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe you’d like some help with that?” my housemate said softly.

The young woman smiled at me. She slowly, lightly ran a finger along the shaft of my cock.

“You’re kidding,” I gasped, while thoroughly enjoying the touch.

“I’m not. I’ve given handjobs before. Lie down.”

“But, um, our conversation about sex? About me not expecting you to pay with sex?”

Becky smiled.

“It’s okay. I want to do this and it is not about ‘paying’ you. If it makes you feel better, I want to do it.”

Still not entirely sure about this, I sighed and did as she asked. Becky took my cock in her fingers and gently massaged it.

“Maybe some visual stimulation would help, eh,” she said, her voice soft and sultry.

Becky unbuttoned her blouse. It fell open to reveal that she was braless. Her tits were a nice size for her body, round, and firm. Big nipples surrounded by minimal aureoles tipped them. As I drank in that sight, Becky stood and dropped her skirt.

“What do you think?” she asked, striking a pose in just bikini briefs.

“Lovely. You are quite beautiful, Becky.”

My housemate sat back down. She lightly massaged my cock, then wrapped them around the shaft to begin a slow, gently tugging. A bit nervous and still in shock from this turn of events, I raised my hand and touched her left breast. The flesh was smooth and firm under my fingers.

“Go ahead,” Becky encouraged me, “I like you touching me.”

She alternated between jerking me off and lightly caressing me. I explored her breasts with my hand. Taking a nipple between thumb and forefinger, I gently rubbed it between them. The little bud became hard between my fingers.

“Shit, now I am getting aroused, too,” the young woman hissed.

Still stroking me with her left hand, Becky slid her right into her panties. From the way her fingers moved inside, I could tell she was playing with her pussy. The sight of my housemate pleasuring both herself and me got me even hornier. It was perhaps the most aroused I had felt in a very long time.

Finally, Becky stopped for a moment and removed her panties. Her pubic hair was an unruly tangle of dark brown between her thighs. Smiling, my housemate lay alongside me on the bed. Her left hand went back to work on my cock, while she used her right to stroke her vulva and rub her clit.

“Here it comes,” I gasped.

My orgasm made my body twitch and my eyes snap shut. Thick white blobs of cum sprayed over my lower belly, then tailed to a steady drip of cream into my pubes. I opened my eyes and looked at Becky. She smiled, then rolled onto her back. Spreading her thighs, my housemate began rubbing her pussy with vigour. Moments later, she was moaning and quivering from her own climax.

Her own need satisfied, Becky snuggled up against me. She planted a light kiss on my cheek, then my lips.

“How’s that feel?” she asked.

“Much, much better. Thank you. How about you?”

“Best sex I’ve had in … maybe ever.”

“Barely qualifies as sex,” I commented, “Just you giving me a handjob while you masturbate.”

“I enjoyed giving another person an orgasm, Evan. That alone is a big change for me.”

She moved down my body and licked up some of my cum.

“Taste good?” I asked, giggling.

“Yes. Maybe I should make it a blowjob next time.”

I looked her in the eye.

“Are you sure you want to go down this road, Becky?”

“No. But it felt so good that I’m not necessarily going to put the brakes on, either.”

“Okay. Fair enough. Thanks again. I really have not felt that good in a while.”

My housemate kissed me, then rolled to look at my clock.

“Shit, I have to be going. I have a couple job interviews lined up. That’s why I dressed up.”

Becky got out of bed and quickly dressed. After putting my pills and coffee within reach, she kissed me once more, then left. For a while, I just lay there trying to make up my mind if what happened was real or a dream.

Maybe Becky had healing hands. Or at least having someone care for me was helping in my healing. Either way, I felt alive and energetic for the first time since the day of Becky’s arrival. My housemate was surprised when she came home to a clean house with the dishes done.

The next day, still feeling better, I attended the board meeting of a local foundation. I had been a director since before the crash but had missed meetings a lot recently due to health. When I returned home, I was greeted by the delicious smell of something cooking in the kitchen.

“Wow, what are you making today, Betty Crocker?” I cracked as I entered.

Becky was sitting at the kitchen table while a timer ticked away on the oven. A small cake from the bakery down on the street corner sat on the table. My housemate looked beautiful, perhaps more than ever. She wore a sleeveless white sundress with a light floral print on it. The neckline was scooped fairly low, exposing some cleavage. Her hair was tied back in a long ponytail, putting the spotlight on her pretty face.

“Lasagna. A favorite of mine,” Becky responded.

“What’s the occasion?”

“I turn twenty today,” she explained with a grin, “And I got offers from two out of three interviews. I start next Monday as the order clerk for Bascomb’s Electrical Supply.”

“Happy birthday! And congratulations on the job,” I said with a smile, “you should have told me about your birthday sooner. I could have picked up a gift or some flowers or something.”

Becky stood and walked over to me. She slipped her arms around me and lightly touched her lips to mine. I hugged her back, not sure what brought about this display of affection.

“You have given me the best gift already, Evan. I am alive, I have a roof over my head, and I have you as a friend. Now I even have a job.”

“Not sure what I have done counts as a gift so much as an act of caring. In the end, it proved pretty beneficial to me, too. Never expected when I offered you a room that I would end up needing your help as a nurse.”

Becky shook her head, “You gave me so much more, though. If you had turned me away, Evan, I might never have turned twenty. I was in so much despair, so lost in my grief and suffering, that I might have just died. Not necessarily as a deliberate suicide but I might have just given up and let Death have his way with me like so many other guys. You saved my life, Evan. I am convinced of that and I have vowed never to let myself sink that low again.”

She broke down and started crying as she said those words. I held Becky tight against me and rubbed her back. That lasted a few minutes, then my housemate relaxed and her sobs softened.

“Thank you for telling me this, Becky,” I whispered after kissing the top of her head, “I never realized how bad things were when I took you in. I was just being me, a kind man who was not about to put a miserable young woman back on the street.”

Becky seemed to cheer up at that, and even cracked a bit of a smile. Then she dropped an even bigger bombshell, at least from my standpoint.

“Evan, I think I might be falling for you,” she said quietly, eyes meeting mine, “Maybe it’s because of what I just told you but I think about you in the fondest, most intimate ways. As I took care of you during your illness, I sometimes fantasized that I was nursing a partner, not just a housemate.”

I was taken aback at this confession. It called attention to similar feelings that had been welling up in me.

“Hence what happened yesterday morning, I guess. I am very fond of you, too, Becky. And yesterday’s intimacy just made it that much stronger. That was more like making love than most intercourse I’ve had. But there’s a lot we need to consider before we go too far with this.”

“I know, Evan. Our ages, our differing situations, so many other things that could mess it up. But I can’t deny my feelings, either.”

“Nor can I. We just need to be a bit careful with how we express and explore them.”

Then, almost in contradiction to those words, I kissed Becky. I did not give her another light, affectionate kiss, either. This was a full-on French kiss with open mouths and my tongue sliding in to meet hers. We did not let up until a shrill whine from the oven timer announced that dinner was ready. Becky looked a bit stunned as she slipped from my embrace and grabbed the oven mitts.

Those mutual confessions spooked us or something. We spent the evening together but just watched a movie and chatted. I heard some stories about Becky’s happier days as well as the full story about her mother’s final illness and how it left the young woman a destitute orphan at nineteen. There were some affectionate touches, but the intensity of that moment before dinner seemed to have faded.

The following Saturday afternoon found me relaxing in the sun on a lounge chair on my patio. I was wearing just a pair of shorts. My recovery from the relapse of my chronic pain seemed complete. However, I had spent the morning doing yard work with Becky, and that left me feeling hot, tired, and achy.

Becky came out with big tumblers of iced tea for both of us. She handed me one, then settled in the second lounge I had recently bought. With two of us now living in the house, it seemed only fair to have space for both to enjoy the yard.

My housemate was barely dressed in a recently purchased bikini. It was green and quite skimpy, covering only what absolutely needed to be covered. I looked Becky over and remembered how lovely she had looked naked a few days before. That stirred my cock to life so I quickly pulled my gaze away.

“You look pretty hot in that swimsuit,” I said, raising my tumbler in a toast.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Becky replied, her eyes clearly looking at my body, “Given what it has been through, your body is not in too bad a shape.”

“Could use some work on the abs,” I responded, patting my belly.

“I’ve seen worse,” my housemate responded.

“Thanks. I think.”

“Do you think your patio is private enough for me to sunbathe topless? I’ve never tried that before but like the idea of an all-over tan,” Becky said, “And it’s not like you haven’t seen my tits before.”

I grinned at my housemate and told her, “Believe it or not, I have gone naked out here before. No one seemed to notice or complain.”

Becky’s green eyes gleamed with wicked delight as she responded, “Really? I dare you, then.”

“Only if you take the same dare.”

“Of course. I am the one who asked first.”

Grinning, I undid my shorts and slid them off. My cock was not yet hard but was not exactly totally flaccid either. As I got naked, Becky slipped her bottom off, revealing that she had trimmed her pubic region down to a narrow triangle of short hair since the morning of the handjob. As I digested that revelation, her top followed. We both lay back, letting the sun warm our naked bodies.

I kept stealing looks at the next lounge, unable to resist the sight of Becky’s nude body. My cock stirred with every gaze or glance. Our eyes met a couple times, suggesting that my housemate was taking similar looks back at me.

Finally, Becky sat up, slid off her lounge, and knelt next to mine. She took my cock in her fingers and caressed it while smiling at me.

“I am so horny right now,” she said softly, “And I have never done it outdoors before.”

“I have, but not in a long time,” I replied, remembering some fun with my ex-wife in the backyard of our old house. That was during the early, happy period of our marriage.

Becky was now stroking my cock. She bent over and kissed the head, then put her lips around it. The young woman sucked gently while teasing the head and glans with her tongue. As my cock swelled and hardened, Becky took more of it into her mouth. While I was not long, I was fairly thick. However, that did not seem to bother Becky too much. From the corner of my eye, I could see that she was playing with her pussy as she gave me oral.

“Ever done a sixty-nine?” I asked.

Becky lifted her head and caught her breath.

“No, I haven’t actually. That’s where we go down on each other simultaneously, right?”

“Bingo.”

“These lounges aren’t going to work for that,” Becky pointed out.

“Take the cushions off and just put them side by side out on the lawn to make a small bed.”

My housemate grinned with lusty delight, then stood and took the cushion off her lounge. I rose with only a bit of a groan and took mine.

I lay on the cushions, then Becky straddled my face. Her pussy was already quite wet. I eagerly buried my face between the young woman’s thighs, sliding my tongue between her lips for my first taste of my new lover. She bent over and resumed sucking my cock.

Slowly, I ran my tongue up and down Becky’s slit a few times. Then I gently stroked her clit with it while easing a middle finger inside her. As I fucked her with the finger, I shifted my tongue to her perineum before rimming her puckered back hole a few times.

As I explored Becky’s pussy and ass, the young woman continued to steadily suck on my cock. She proved quite adept at both sucking and using her tongue to stroke and tease the head. The feeling was marvellous, some of the best oral I had ever received. That surprised me a little given her age, though Becky’s stories of her past suggested she had a fair bit of experience.

I moved my mouth back to Becky’s pussy and removed my finger. After licking her juices off, I began to alternately suck and lick her clitoris. The young woman released my cock and rose up to ride my face as I continued that attention.

“Oh shit, Evan! Oh wow,” she gasped as her juices ran out onto my face.

After that climax, I continued to attend to Becky’s dripping pussy until she quickly came a second time. Then my housemate dismounted and caught her breath.

“Want my mouth or my pussy?” she asked.

Becky had already turned and was on all fours in the grass with her ass towards me. That suggested which option she wanted. I eyed her wet opening hungrily, then got up and knelt behind her. Holding her ass, I slid in. Becky was tight but so wet it did not seem to matter. Grinning with delight, I began to fuck her with fast, hard thrusts. My bad leg was grumbling a little but my lust overcame its complaints.

“That’s it, baby, fuck me like you mean it. Use me for your pleasure,” Becky moaned. Her voice was getting dangerously loud given we were within earshot of neighbours’ houses.

I did, however, take Becky at her word. For a couple minutes, there was only the sound of flesh against flesh as I pounded her pussy until I came hard. I barely stifled my cry as the orgasm shook my body and flooded Becky with my seed.

As my cock softened, I pulled free and then knelt there trying to catch my breath. My heart was pounding and my bad leg aching. I did not care. After two years of celibacy since the crash, fucking a woman again thrilled me to no end.

Becky turned to face me. Smiling, she stroked my face before pressing her mouth to mine. Our tongues met and we kept up that kiss for a few minutes.

A rumble in the distance startled us both. I glanced up and realized that the sky had darkened. The first drops of rain spattered on our bare skin.

“Time to get inside,” I said, managing to get to my feet.

“Race you.”

“Like I have a chance,” I groaned.

Becky was already off like a shot. We threw the cushions back on the chairs and grabbed our clothes. The sky opened up in a deluge just as I shut the back door.

After a longing look at each other, we dropped our clothes and fell into a tight embrace. Once again, we kissed with open mouths and probing tongues. I ran my hands up and down Becky’s body, enjoying the feel of her soft, smooth flesh under my fingers.

“Bed?” I finally asked.

“Bed,” Becky affirmed.

She headed down the hallway with me in pursuit.

As rain poured down and thunder rumbled, Becky and I cuddled under a sheet on my bed. We had taken a quick shared shower to get grass and dirt off our bodies. Now we were finally enjoying the afterglow from our outdoor tryst.

“How are you doing?” Becky asked, caressing my torso.

“Good. My leg is aching a bit, but I guess I didn’t strain it too much. You?”

“I feel wonderful, Evan. I was a bit afraid sex with you would feel weird after the relationship we’ve had so far, but I really enjoyed it.”

“No second thoughts, then? ”

Becky sighed, then kissed my chest.

“As you suggested that first day, maybe I just need the right guy to help me enjoy sex.”

“Even if that guy is probably older than your parents?”

“If he treats me well and turns me on, does it matter?”

“I guess not. I suspect a lot of people would think otherwise. For instance, I would hate to think of old Mrs. Wiseman next door witnessing what we did.”

Becky laughed, then shook her head.

“People can judge all they like. I think we need to decide for ourselves if we are right for each other.”

“And you think we are?”

“I wanted you to fuck me, didn’t I?”

“That’s a nice way to show it, I guess.”

I squeezed her, then we kissed. Becky rested her head on my chest. Her hand crept down to fondle my soft cock.

“Think we can get this hard again?”

“You want more, eh?”

“Lots more.”

I sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“I’m not a young buck anymore but give it your best. I want it as badly as I suspect you do.”

Taking my cock in her hand, Becky caressed it. Then she shifted position to rest her head on my lower belly. My housemate kissed my cock, bathed it with her tongue, then put it between her lips to once again gently suck on it. I stroked her hair and back, then closed my eyes to relax and enjoy Becky’s oral skills.

After a while, with my cock partly erect, Becky changed tactics. She straddled me and began to rub her soft pussy lips back and forth along my shaft. I opened my eyes to revel in my new lover’s naked beauty. My housemate’s pussy was getting wet and that moisture dampened my cock. The sensation of Becky’s pussy caressing me combined with the sight of her soon had my cock stiff again.

Becky guided the head of my cock between her pussy lips and lowered herself onto it. She smiled at me as she sank down, then began slowly moving her body. I put my hands on Becky’s thighs, then slid them up to caress her tits. My fingers rubbed and lightly pinched the young woman’s stiff nipples. Then I slid my hands back down to caress her thighs again.

“How’s this?” she asked.

“I like it. Keep that pace. I’m going to last a while, you know. We old guys take time to recharge.”

Becky chuckled.

“That’s fine,” she responded, “Just means I get to have this thick cock inside me longer.”

She lay atop me with my cock still inside. We made out for a while, then Becky straightened up again. My housemate began to move up and down my erect shaft more vigorously while using a finger to massage her clitoris.

Becky closed her eyes. She threw her head back and gasped for breath. At the same time, I felt the fluttering of her vaginal walls around my cock. I moved my hips, thrusting into my housemate on her down strokes. That seemed to help her along and her orgasm lasted a while.

“How about you get on top now?” she suggested, slipping off my cock.

“Not about to refuse that request.”

My housemate lay on her back with her legs open. Taking the invitation, I slid my cock into her, then lowered my mouth to kiss her. Slowly, I moved back and forth in her wet interior. Our gazes met. I found myself once again entranced by Becky’s dazzling green eyes.

When I felt an orgasm starting to build. I stopped and lay down on Becky. We kissed and cuddled for a few minutes, letting it subside a little, then I resumed fucking her. Becky closed her eyes. Her breathing became soft and shallow.

“Harder,” she said, “Fuck me harder, please.”

Missionary was not the easiest position for me to comply but I thrust as fast and hard as I could, driving my cock deep into the young woman’s core. She put her hands on my ass and pulled me inside, moving her loins against mine. After a few short cries, Becky relaxed and smiled at me. She caressed my face. I kissed her and began again.

A few more thrusts and I was the one having an orgasm. It was less intense than the one outside, but went on longer. Gentle waves of pleasure washed over me as my cock pulsed inside Becky. Once it passed, I lay down on Becky. She wrapped me in her arms and legs and we kissed.

“I love you, Evan,” Becky whispered, those beautiful eyes wide. Then she started to cry.

We lay side-by-side on the bed for a while after that, savouring the afterglow and getting our energy back. I stared at the ceiling, contemplating Becky’s words. Finally, I turned to look at my lover.

“Becky, did you mean it? That you love me? Or was that the heat of the moment?” I asked.

She looked back at me and smiled. Those beautiful green eyes met mine.

“I think I meant it, Evan,” Becky told me, “I have said it in the heat of the moment before but this felt different. Very different. But you’re right to ask. And the honest answer is, I’m not entirely sure myself yet. How do you feel?”

I considered for a moment, then responded, “Right now, after what we’ve been through together since you knocked on my door ... I think I love you, too, Becky. And that’s not heat of the moment. No one since I first met my ex-wife has made me feel this good and maybe not even her. And I don’t want this to stop yet. If ever.”

“So we’re in love, I guess,” Becky said in a matter-of-fact tone, “What comes next?”

“We need to sort that out. What are your plans for your future?”

Becky looked up at the ceiling for a moment, then back at me.

“I have applied to do a degree at Eversham University. Four years. I was going to ask if I could live here for that time but that was before all this.”

“Good plan, I think. I would have happily let you keep the room for as long as you wanted, even before today. Now? I think it’s just a matter of whether you stay in your own room or start sharing with me.”

Smiling, my lover took my hand.

“My own, I think,” she answered, “I still need a bit of distance as I try to sort through my feelings and get my life in order. But we can sleep together when it feels right and maybe work towards me moving into your bed over time.”

“Four years gives us a lot of time to figure this out, I guess.”

“It does. I’m very excited by it.”

“One more question about today. We didn’t use protection. Is that ... um ... going to be a problem?”

Becky squeezed my hand and told me, “It’s good. I have an IUD. That’s how I was able to have so many guys without an ‘accident’. But I am glad you thought to ask.”

“Another sign I love you?”

“I think so. I hope so. Even if I didn’t have protection, having a child with you might not be so bad. You’d probably make a better father than most of the guys from my past.”

I chuckled and squeezed her hand back.

“I’ve never had any children, Becky. That was one of the tensions that ended my marriage. So I can’t actually promise anything on that front.”

“We’ll see when we get there, won’t we. All I want for now is your love. Anything more is icing on the cake.”

Becky snuggled up against me. We kissed before dozing off into a late afternoon nap as the rain pattered against the bedroom window.

The call the next morning came as a surprise. We were in the kitchen having a late breakfast after sleeping together in my bed. I almost did not answer since it was a California area code. However, I did have some old business associates out there so I finally gave in and hit the answer button.

“Hello?” I said.

“Hi there. This is Paul Tilman. You bought your house from me. I was talking to Ellen Wiseman next door and she said you had been asking about me?”

I raised my eyebrows, surprised to finally get a response to my inquiries.

“Oh right, that was a few weeks ago now.”

As I spoke, I looked at Becky. She was standing nearby with a quizzical look on her face.

I mouthed, “It’s Paul Tilman.”

Becky’s eyes went wide for a moment, then she frowned and shook her head. I nodded acknowledgement.

I told Paul, “Yeah, a woman came by and said she needed to talk to you. Knew you from a ways back or something. When I couldn’t find any information on your whereabouts, she went on her way. Haven’t seen her since.”

I winked at Becky. She smiled back and looked about to laugh.

“No idea who it would have been myself. Did you get a name?” Paul asked.

“I did at the time but I can’t recall it just now. I’ll probably remember right after we hang up.”

My lover put a hand over her mouth to stifle a fit of giggles.

Paul laughed and told me, “Oh good, it’s not just me. How’s the house?”

“Good. I really didn’t have to do much with it, just move in. We are really enjoying the patio and backyard, too.”

“We?”

I mentally cursed myself but managed something approximating truth.

“Oh yeah, I had a friend move in with me. With my bad leg, I need help sometimes.”

Becky left the kitchen snickering. Moments later, I heard a burst of laughter down the hall.

“Glad to hear the house worked out for you. Anyhow, nice talking to you. Got to get going.”

“Yeah, me, too. Bye.”

I hung up and Becky returned, still giggling.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry Evan. I kind of lost it there. You stickhandled that well. Except the ‘we’ slip.”

“His number is in my recent,” I told her, “Do you want it or should I just delete it?”

“Delete it. That way I won’t be tempted.”

A few taps on the screen and Paul Tilman’s number was gone.

“That might have been your last chance to talk to your father,” I pointed out.

She sighed and smiled.

“I didn’t really come looking for my father so much as someone who cared. I just thought he would be good place to start.”

“And I filled the bill?”

Becky walked up and hugged me.

“You filled it much better than anyone could have, Evan. Now let's go and enjoy the backyard.”

Becky kissed me quickly, then started giggling again as she led me to the patio door.