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Forever Young

thirty something guy reluctant to commit. Will she be the one to capture him?
“What have I gotten myself into?”

My palms were moist and my heart beat quickly. I knew what I was about to do was a mistake, but I sure didn’t have the brains to stop. Or rather, I had too much testosterone to make myself use my brains.

“I actually told her my nickname, Fingers,” I thought with embarrassment. “What a fucking ass I am.”

My college teammates had given me that nickname because of my really big hands and freakishly long fingers, which helped me snag passes that were behind me or too deep or too wide. But did I have to tell the kid my nickname? I needed to impress a nineteen year old kid? What a fucking ass I am.

“Ooh, that sounds exciting,” she said when I told her. “I’d really like to see them,” she wrote during our chat, with one of those stupid fucking emoticons winking.

God, what a buffoon I am. The kid’s nineteen, and me thirty five. I’m sure this is going to be a real meaningful relationship. Very special. And I’m sure that if it doesn’t work out, she’ll be real fucking mature about it, too.

I’m sitting in a parking lot at the mall at eight o’clock on a Tuesday, waiting for a nineteen year old kid to meet me. She knows I’m in a silver Chevy Tahoe, and that I'm parked at the back of the mall on the Macy’s side, off by myself.

And what are we going to do when she gets here? Shit! What else are we going to do? Her nineteen, me thirty five. Discuss politics? Religion? How much we have in common, and how I knew we were destined for each other from the first time I saw her profile and chatted with her? Right.

The first time we chatted, I knew this was going to happen. Why else would I have bothered? Since my first long term relationship, back when I was in college, I haven’t seen a girl younger than myself, so why didn’t I just ignore her request to chat?

I thought about Becky, the girl I had been seeing for eight months until recently; the longest I’ve seen anyone since my college girl. She loved to analyze me. She’d have a field day with this meeting, if she were here now. A Peter Pan complex was what she called it. I never wanted to grow up. As long as I saw girls older than me, or about the same age, I could be sure they’d dump me soon after they got to really know me, and I wouldn’t have to worry about being the dumper. Young kids, on the other hand, couldn’t be counted on to be smart enough to bail when they found out what I was about.

I didn’t have the balls to be the one doing the dumping, Becky had told me. Maybe she was right. Lord knows, she was really smart, so she probably was right. Good looking too, and God, did she have a nice body. But she was such a pain in the ass, always wanting to talk about “us” and “our future”, and all that shit. She couldn’t ever just shut up. She was the one chick I could have dumped, if she hadn’t dumped me first. Except she was the only chick that ever called me on my bullshit, and she was spot on every time.

I’ve always preferred being the dumpee. I don’t like confrontations, with tears and all that shit. I much prefer being yelled at and told what an asshole I am, then seeing the back side of my lover as she slams the door on the way out.

I still felt bad whenever I thought about my girl in college. We’d seen each other all through college, though I treated her badly. After graduation, I moved back to my home town, and we never got together again. She’d seen it coming and didn’t make too big a scene, but I still felt bad. We both knew I had just been using her for an easy piece of ass all that time, when I couldn’t find anybody else.

I never gained weight after my playing days, and I think I’m pretty good looking, tall and athletic, so I’ve never had trouble getting girls. I don’t like doing without, even for a few days, and that’s what’s gotten me into situations like this one over the years. Waiting in a parking lot for a girl I know I’m gonna want to screw, but knowing that I’m going to regret it later, when it’s time to ditch her.

8:08. Shit, why did I get here early? Why couldn’t I be the one making her wait? I feel like a buffoon, waiting for a kid in a parking lot, the cold rain drizzling on my windshield. I can see my breath now, and start the engine to get the heater going.

A few minutes later a Honda pulls up and two people get out. They quickly open my doors. She gets in front, her friend gets in back. I wasn’t expecting this.

“Hello,” I say.

“Hi, Fingers,” she says, and her girlfriend in the back giggles.

I turn on the dome light and turn around to see her friend. She’s fucking gorgeous; long blond hair, pretty face, nice tight body.

“This is Christy,” she says, and we say hello to each other.

“I wasn’t expecting two,” I say.

“A girl can’t be too careful,” she says. “For all I know you could be an escaped con or something.”

Great, now there’s two of them. That could be good, or that could be an impediment. Have to see. I check out Megan. I’ve seen pictures of her lots of times, both posted on her profile, and sent to me through private messages. None nude, but damned close to it, close enough to know that I’d love to split her in half with my dick, and her little friend too. She’s beautiful.

I haven’t been with a girl so young since I was that young, but there is definitely something to be said for youth. Tight little petite bodies with perfect skin. Damn, these girls are fine. Too bad youth is wasted on the young. The sweet smell of young girl’s perfume fills the car.

“What do you want to do?” Megan says. “You want to go out to a club?”

“Nah, you’re underage.”

“We have IDs.”

“Forget it, I can’t get in that kind of trouble.”

“Then what?”

“We can go back to my place and talk,” I say.

“Okay,” they said in unison.

“Follow me.”

Last thing I want is to have to get back out later and drive them back to the mall. They get out and follow me in Megan’s car.

They take off their coats and throw them over a dining room chair. They’re both wearing tight jeans and tight tees with low scoop tops that barely cover their bras. They’re gorgeous.

“Nice place,” Christy says.

Truth is, it’s a sty, but I did pick up the dishes and stuffed them into the dishwasher before they came, and I did throw all the clothes laying around into my hamper. As long as they don’t look too close, it’s not too bad.

“Is this you,” Megan said, looking at some of my football clippings under the glass on my desktop.

“Yeah.”

“You were a stud, huh?”

“Were?” I say, smiling.

I sit on the couch with them on either side, Megan leaning against me and holding me around the neck. Her face is inches from me, her perfume engulfing me. God, I’m looking forward to fucking her. Will I have to wait until another night, when her friend isn’t here? I hadn’t planned on this being a multiple date relationship.

We make small talk. Her friend is real quiet. I try to draw her out, but she’s not as giggly and bubbly as Megan.

“You got anything to drink?” Megan asks.

“I’ve got milk or Coke.”

“No alcohol?”

“Nah.”

I’m not much of a drinker.

“Can I have a Coke?”

“Sure. You want one, Christy?”

“No thank you.”

I get Megan a Coke with some ice, and sit back down between them. Megan’s got the TV on some music channel, playing some pop dance shit. That’s the hazard of seeing young girls; no telling when you might have to listen to some Justin Bieber or something.

Megan puts her Coke down and leans back against my shoulder. I put my arms around both girls and pull them to me.

“What do you girls like to do for fun?”

“You want to see a show?” Megan asks.

“Sure.”

The girls stand up and face each other. I move over to the chair and sit, watching. They start kissing and grinding, real slow and tenderly. Okay, this is getting interesting. Megan grabs the bottom of Christy’s tee and starts to lift it up, slowly, uncovering her tight little tummy, then her bra. She flings it towards me, then unsnaps Christy’s bra.

Christy starts to lift Megan’s shirt, her unsnapped bra offering glimpses of her breasts, not yet allowing a view of her nipple. I adjust my cock in my jeans. When Megan’s shirt is removed, they both fling their bras my way. Both of them are topless, their little titties standing up pert and high, nipples stiff and pointy.

They begin to kiss, grinding their tits against each other’s tits. I move the coffee table away from the couch, giving them more room. They’re kissing deeply as they fumble with each other’s jeans, unbuttoning then unzipping each other. They shake their legs to allow their jeans to drop, stepping out of them, never breaking their kiss.

They’re standing in front of me in their skimpy little panties, kissing passionately. Yeah, I like this show. I like it a lot. Now they hook their fingers under the waistband of each other’s panties and begin to pull them down, still kissing. They bend over to push them all the way down, their little tiny titties jiggling. God, I love those little titties, so tight and perfect, with their hard little nipples.

Now naked, they kneel on my couch side by side, facing the wall, their butts pointing toward me. I don’t need to be asked. I start taking off my clothes and approach them. They’re still kissing and playing with each other’s tits.

I position myself behind Megan and guide my dick into her tight little pussy. I run it up and down her slit to work her lips open, then put it against her opening. God, it’s so tight. I force myself to take it slow and easy, though every fiber of my body wants to rip this sweet little girl in half with my throbbing, hard dick. I find Christy’s warm opening with my middle finger, working it insider her as I work my dick into Megan. With my other hand, I cup one of Megan’s little titties, clamping the nipple between two fingers.

The girls are moaning as they continue their kiss. My dick is gripped by the skin in Megan’s tight pussy, rather than gliding smoothly, so I work it slowly in and out. When I pull it out, it feels like I’m pulling the inside of her pussy with me, turning her inside out. God, she’s tight.

After ten or twelve strokes, it finally begins to glide smoothly and I start pumping her rhythmically. She’s rocking back and forth to match my motions; back toward me as I pump her, then away from me as I pull out. We start pumping faster as I knead her titty, pulling on her stiff nipple.

She grunts as I pull my dick out of her, frantically moving her butt toward me to prevent it from popping out of her hole. I move over toward Christy and position myself against her opening, once again sliding my dick up and down her slit to open her lips. I’ve been fingering her for several minutes, so her opening is exposed, the engorged lips open to my advances.

My dick is slick with Megan’s juices, and slides into Christy smoothly. Her tight pussy still resists the head of my big dick, but once I’ve worked in the head, it slips in a little easier. Within five thrusts I’m banging my crotch against her butt, fully penetrating her. She’s groaning with the fullness of her pussy as I pull on one of her tits. I’ve got two fingers in Megan to make up for the absence of my dick.

After a few minutes in Christy, I switch back to Megan. God, I wish I had two dicks for these fabulous babes. I switch back and forth several times between the girls. I can’t decide which I like better; they’re both gorgeous and tight and wet. They’re both furiously rubbing their pussies, and Christy starts to cry out her orgasm, breaking her kiss with Megan. I pull out of Christy to enter Megan, but it's too late. I shoot a wad that lands high on her back, spattering onto her hair, then oozed a thick stream of cum onto her butt. Megan begins to cum with my fingers deep inside her pussy. She’s shaking and groaning, then she slumps against the back of the couch, trembling.

Megan comes over three or four times a week, but she always checks first. I like that. She’s turning out not to be a pain in the ass, even though she’s young. That’s good. I was worried about that. Sometimes she brings Christy, sometimes she comes alone. She’s never spent the night; she still lives with her parents. That’s okay, I prefer it that way. Come and go. Both the girls are turning out to be fun to be around, actually. They talk about bands and shit that I don’t care about, and they’ve always got the TV or their music on their phones going, but at least it’s not so quiet when they’re around.

She’s always on me to take her clubbing, but I won’t do it. I don’t give a shit for going out to clubs, and certainly not the crowded dance clubs with the young crowd that she’s into.

7 P.M., Sunday night, just like clockwork, every week. I pick up on the third ring.

“Hi, Ma.”

“Hello, sweetie. Have I interrupted you?”

“No, Ma, I was expecting you. How was your trip?”

“It was fun, thanks. How have you been?”

“Okay. What did you and aunt Jen do.”

“During the day we went to the beach every day and walked. At night, mostly just watch your uncle Bob drink too much. But it was nice to get away. Have you been seeing anyone lately?”

“Same old girl.”

“What’s her name?”

“Megan.”

“When am I going to meet her?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t like her.”

I always say that. Ma hasn’t met any of my girls since the college girl.

“What’s she like?”

“Well, she’s down to 235 pounds. Gastric by-pass.”

“That sounds lovely.”

“Yeah, but that wart on the end of her nose is a little off-putting. I’m afraid you wouldn’t like her. And such foul language.”

“I’m sure she’s lovely, dear.”

“Yeah, well, I’m usually not that attracted to black women, but she’s okay. And she’s about your age. Maybe you would like her, after all.”

One Friday night after midnight my bell rings. I’m watching a late basketball game from the west coast that’s still on. I know who it is, even though she’s never stopped by without letting me know first.

“Hey, babe,” I say. “Hi, Christy.”

They stumble into the room, obviously the worse for drink, and throw their coats over a dining room chair. God, they’re gorgeous. They both have on micro skirts with camisoles that expose their stomachs. They’re wearing naval rings that hang down, and whenever they lean over, you can see right down their tops, exposing their sexy, skimpy, lacy bras.

“God, you guys are beautiful. I’m surprised whoever was feeding you drinks tonight let you leave alone.”

“What makes you think we didn’t buy our own drinks?”

“Dressed like that? No way.”

The girls giggle at that.

“So how did you get away without them?”

“We went to the bathroom, then snuck out.”

“How come? Didn’t you like them?”

“Aw, they weren’t as cute as you,” Megan says teasingly, brushing her fingertips against my lips.

“Bet they were pissed when they found out you were gone. Damn, you girls are sexy.”

Megan excuses herself to the toilet and I start rubbing on Christy. By the time Megan gets out Christy has to go pee, so I start rubbing and kissing on Megan.

“You’re not mad cuz we came so late without calling?” she slurs.

“I’ll overlook it this once,” I say as I start taking off her top.

There’s something extra sexy about these young girls when they’re sloshed and dressed up in heels and slutty little skimpy outfits. I have to help steady Megan as I continue undressing her, she’s so wobbly. Christy comes out of the bathroom and strips off the rest of her clothes, then lays on the bed and watches.

When I get Megan’s clothes off I let her fall onto the bed, then start peeling mine off. I’ve got naked girls all over my bed, and I’m trying to peel back the covers. Megan rolls over to help, then rolls back onto the sheet. Christy is almost comatose, so I let her lie on top of the comforter.

I start kissing Megan. My dick is hard; it’s been three days since Megan last came over, and I’m more than ready. I lean over her, kissing her lips, then bury my face in her chest, licking her stiff little nipples. I can smell her underarms, strong after her night of dancing in the hot, crowded club, but it’s not unpleasant. I find it sexy that such a tender, nubile young girl smells strong. I wonder what her cunt smells like. I know her well enough to know that it’s wet, after a night of teasing her young boys at the club. I want to bury my dick in it and never take it out.

But she pushes me down onto my back on the bed. I reach for her little titties, but she pushes my hands away. I clasp them behind my head and lay back, letting her drive. She bends over me and wraps her hand around my sac, the way I’ve shown her I like. She grabs the sac above the balls and holds it tightly, separating my balls from my shaft. Then she grabs the head of my dick with the other hand and holds it tightly. Only the shaft is exposed; she leans over and locks her lips midway down my shaft, where it’s most sensitive, where the channel that carries my cum most likes to be rubbed.

Keeping her lips locked on my shaft, she starts sucking, as though to give my dick a hickey. It feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Never breaking her lock on my shaft, she continues sucking for all she’s worth, pulling the sensitive skin into her mouth. She lets her tongue wash over the channel as she’s sucking, warm and wet.

My stiff dick wants to spring up, but she holds it down by the head against my belly, continuing to suck and lick the channel. I reach over and grab a tit, rolling the nipple between my thumb and finger. My balls are tingling; she still has a strong grip on the top of the sac where it meets my shaft. Now my balls are most insistent that they do their job; they want to descend into my body, where they can deliver their load.

Her grip is keeping them from descending up into my body, but they are going to deliver their load anyway. But the feelings created by this unnatural position are indescribable; it feels like her tongue is sucking my balls up the shaft and out of my dick. I feel the sensitive balls delivering my sperm, but it seems a long time before it shoots out of my dick, landing on my chest.

“OOOMMPH, UHNGGhh,” I groan as my balls feel like they’re bursting. My sticky mess covers her hands and my groin.

I quietly start the coffee. Christy is still fast asleep on the sofa, Megan in the bed. I take my cup outside onto the balcony with the paper. When I come in to refill my cup, they’re still asleep. I take my shower and dress, and they’re still asleep. I’ve got errands to run, so I start by going to the store to do my grocery shopping. They’re still asleep when I get back, so I quietly unpack the groceries, then make myself a bowl of oatmeal with some fruit.

The girls didn’t get up until almost noon, and they lounged around for an hour more before cleaning up.

“Hey, before you go, I just want to say something.”

“Yeah,” Megan says.

“I appreciate you coming over,” I said, hugging her. “But I wish you’d call me to pick you up, next time you get like you were last night. You shouldn’t be driving like that.”

“You’d come out in the middle of the night and pick me up?”

“Yeah, I’d do that. You could have hurt somebody, or gotten yourself arrested.”

“And you wouldn’t lord it over me or lecture me?”

“Did I ever?”

“No. You know, come to think of it, you never have told me anything about how you feel about anything. The only thing I know about you is that you’re nice, and you like to fuck me. Or my friend. Or both of us. Or, probably, anybody else.”

Shit. Here it comes.

“Tell you what, you take care now,” she says as she leaves.

“When you coming over?” I text her. Christ, it’s been six days since I had any.

“What do you need me for?”

“I like you.”

“Enough to take me out once in a while, where you might actually be seen in public with me? Enough to let me in on part of your life, actually meet the people who are important to you?”

After a while, she texts, “I didn’t think so. Bye.”

I throw my phone down on the bed and bury my head under my pillow.

“Hey, Ma.”

“Why, hello, dear. Thanks for calling, but what’s the occasion?”

“Does there have to be an occasion for someone to call their mom?”

“No.”

“Listen, there’s someone I want you to meet. Can you have dinner with us tomorrow?”

“Sure. Who is it?”

“Her name is Becky.”

“Didn’t you go with a girl named Becky last year? The psychoanalyst?”

“Yeah, that’s her. But she’s not really a psychoanalyst. Maybe you shouldn’t mention that when you meet her. She’s a dental hygienist. We’ve been back together the last three months, and I wanted you to meet her.”

“Dental hygienist? Oh, yes, didn’t you tell me she was toothless?”

“Yeah, well that’s why she got in the business. To get a discount on her fake teeth.”

“Must be serious, if you want us to meet.”

“Yeah, she wants to have kids, and she’s thinking that getting married first is a good idea.”

“Must be an old fashioned kind of gal.”

“Yeah, she must be.”

“Good. I like that. I’m looking forward to it.”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than Lushstories.com with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.


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