Chapter 4

I skipped the bar for a few days, finally going back on Thursday – early enough to avoid the college crowd but not so early as to make it day drinking. I was sitting at the bar when I felt a presence.

“Howdy stranger.”

“Olivia – not who I was expecting, but happy to see you.”

“Same here. And before you ask, Katie told us everything, asked me to let you know she’s been cray and to expect a knock on your door some random night.”

“I’ve been warned – thanks.”

She looked at me, with an expression I couldn’t read. Disdain? Curiosity? Judgement?

“Yes?”

She stared for a little longer. “Yeah, I guess I can image you doing what she described after the seeing you in action last Friday.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Neither – just an observation.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a hard one to read?”

“No – but I hope people think it and fear saying it to my face.”

“Do you cultivate that – or does it come naturally?”

“How observant – both. Buy a girl a drink?

“Anything you like. Jack?” He smirked and got her a drink. “Are you meeting anyone?”

“Chloe, but you never know with her.”

“Indeed – I schedule well in advance.”

“You do have that kind of relationship, don’t you?” She stared at me again for a moment. “I don’t judge her, but I wonder how to feel about the clients.”

“Would you like to ask me anything, since I apparently have no secrets anymore?” I took a drink. “Though she says I’m not her typical patron.”

“You mean john, don’t you?”

“Call me anything you like – been called worse.”

She turned her stool, took a swig. “Ok then, do you find it odd to pay for sex?”

“Yes, odd and uncomfortable. I have no moral qualms and, as you said, I would never judge a provider for doing what they need or want. As a capitalist, I certainly believe that if someone can make themselves valuable, why not?”

“But how do you feel about yourself?”

“Not so great.” I took a sip. “After my wife died, I didn’t want a relationship. But there were many things about companionship I missed. I had a number of less-than-ideal experiences and was about to give up when I met Chloe. I’m probably delusional, but I think of her more as a friend with benefits who I’m helping to support.”

Olivia gave me a quizzical look. She was clearly not buying it. “Ask her. I think she’s brilliant and we spend far more time talking than anything else. But she is beautiful, and I really enjoy the benefits.”

“Does the age difference bother you?”

“You betcha – I never forget or stop worrying about it. I’m sure I’m rationalizing, but women mature faster than boys. Even having just spent a few hours at the bar, I can tell you’re all more fully formed human beings than I was at your age. God only knows how my wife put up with me, but I’m thankful she did.”

Olivia stared again. “That was not the answer I was expecting – figured you’d give me some kind of boomer, bullshit excuse.” Another sip “Maybe you’re as interesting as Chloe and Katie say you are.”

“Unlikely. I just put on a good show. But we agree they’re beautiful, yes?” She nodded. “And unlike many of the girls I see around, can we agree that they, and I suspect you and Alexis, are grown ass women?”

“You know it.”

“So, while the age difference is cringeworthy and I accept judgement, at least I’m not interested in girls.”

“You are a strange man, David.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Another drink?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“First of all, I suspect you could easily drink me under the table. Second, I’m being sociable. Third, I’m already somewhat unbelievably involved with two of the four of you. I don’t think that highly of myself. Ok?”

“Drink accepted.”

Olivia and I drank and talked for a few more hours. I learned what she was studying, that she loved research but not teaching, that she was confident but not as arrogant as she projected, and she knew far more about me from Chloe and Katie than I was comfortable with.

I left before Chloe arrived – it was getting past my bedtime. Jack continued to look at me funnily – I was going to have to figure out something to say to him soon, just not tonight.

….

I stayed home Friday and Saturday. I didn’t want to intrude on girlfriend time, and it would have been really weird if I ran into them and didn’t join. So, I cooked and read and had a lovely time alone, thinking about my time with Katie before I went to sleep.

I was still in bed Sunday morning when the doorbell rang. Not really being awake or thinking, I went to the door and opened it. Katie pushed past me with coffee, muffins and OJ. Somewhat dumbfounded, still not awake, I held the door open as she walked to the kitchen.

After figuring out what was going on, I closed the door and followed her. “Please, come in. Morning person, are you?”

“Not always. Anyway, I think you’ve been avoiding me, and I knew from Chloe that you sleep in, so I figured I’d corner you. Got a problem with that?”

“No – mi casa es izmir otele gelen escort su casa. I’m a little unprepared for guests, however – mind if I shower?”

“As long as you don’t plan on slipping out the window or something.”

“Very kind of you. And to be clear, I haven’t been avoiding you – just giving you space. No escaping, as if I could.” Remembering that it wasn’t me who was held hostage last time we met, I chuckled.

“Something funny, old man?”

“Yes, but I’ll tell you later.” I showered without any thought about leaving someone I barely knew alone in my house. What the heck.

Cleaner, and at least a little more prepared for company, I found Katie drinking coffee and examining my possessions. “You have some interesting stuff here – this photo is particularly nice. I’d like you to tell me more about all this, but that’s not why I’m here.”

“I’m glad you approve of my taste.” Taking coffee and a muffin, I sat on the couch. I also, not being sure but hoping, took some drugs.

“Why brings you here then?”

“Well, I want to know more about you. If I’m going to be intimate with someone, I should know more than a first name and address. Second, and more importantly, how do I get my concentration back – all I’ve been able to think about is last weekend and if this continues, I might lose my job for being, well, a blonde.”

“While you are blonde, you are definitely not ‘a’ blonde. Come to think of it, I’ve known very few real blondes that were ‘blondes’, as you put it. As to concentration, it’s just the excitement of the new. Your drive and ambition will soon return, maybe even stronger.”

That look again. “Why do you have to be so much older than me, again?”

“Because I am, and let’s get something out the way. Clearly, I enjoy spending time with you and yes, I’d like to get to know more about you than just your very interesting desires. But this is not going to become a boyfriend/girlfriend thing. I am too old and too tied to my past. And you have too much life in front of you to be stuck with an old fogey.”

“You’re not that old.”

“Old enough to be your dad, if not your grandfather. And anything past a single digit age difference is too much.”

“So, how I feel about this doesn’t matter?”

“Your feelings matter, but so do mine. I look forward to spending time together, but I will be cheering you on when it’s time to move on.”

“Chloe predicted you’d say something like that.”

“You have got to stop talking so much about other people behind their backs, but I’m not surprised – she knows me pretty well and, honestly, I feel the same way about her.”

“Speaking of that, do you plan on seeing her again?”

“If she’ll have me.”

“And if I had a problem with that, which I don’t, would that matter?”

“How you feel matters, how Chloe feels matters, how I feel matters. But – god this sounds weird coming out of my mouth – I am not expecting to be exclusive to anyone at this point in my life and I don’t expect anyone else to be exclusive with me.”

“So, let me get this straight. You haven’t fallen in love with me and expect me to move in?” She looked seriously at me. I sat there, a little stunned. She waited a beat, laughed, “Don’t worry, not what I was thinking either. I did worry that we might be going too fast, as I’ve had boys obsess before, but Chloe and Olivia didn’t think you were like that. I had to be sure.”

“You’re the one who showed up here, right?”

She laughed, broke the serious mood. We sat down, me on the couch and her cross legged on the floor, ate, drank and talked. She’d had enough time to process the previous weekend, how it made her feel and wanted to know the same from me.

“I excited to explore with you, learn your boundaries and I’m interested in learning how to please you. That’s my jam.”

“So far, your instincts have been pretty on target. I mean…I came more this week than I have in a while. The girls told me I’m much more fun to be around.”

“Frustration and unhappiness drag everything down. May I ask a few more questions?”

“Again?”

“Yes, again. This is how I am – get used to it.” She nodded. “Did you like the amorphous quality of what we did, or did you want more structure? Like acting out preplanned scenes?”

“No, which surprises me. I’m usually a planner and I like story porn. You know, schoolgirl and teacher….” I grimaced “but not having to think about a character, my character, and only having to feel was so much better. I didn’t know I could just go with the flow like that – I’m kind of type A, if you haven’t noticed.”

“Hard to miss. For me, the scene thing, especially when it plays into stereotypes, doesn’t work. I don’t judge others for it, but ugghh. I don’t have a big sample to draw on, but the type A’s I’ve known need to let go.” I thought of an example and risked sharing it. “There is an old manga they turned into a TV show about a really smart student and her geeky childhood friend. She is so tightly wound that she’s struggling. But when she lets him tie her izmir rus escort up, she relaxes and performs better in school.”

“Really, what’s it called? Can we watch it online?”

“I don’t know – it’s the schoolgirl thing again – but I thinks it called Nana and Kaoru or something like that.” She started looking it up on her phone. “Hold on- you can find it on your own time – and I’m not going to watch it with you. I just was using it to show that it’s a trope.”

“Ok, fine. But I may try to make you watch it sometime.”

“We’ll, see. Back to the interrogation. What didn’t happen that, in hindsight, you wished had happened?”

“How much time do you have? First, you never got undressed. No one went down on anyone. There was no penetration except for fingers. I came but you didn’t. I was only held in one position…”

“Stop there – we’ll get back to the rest – what other positions?”

“All of them – standing up, tied to the bed, a chair, the couch, the wall. Whatever you can come up with, I want to try. And why didn’t you have sex with me – is there a problem? Are I not pretty enough?”

“What has the world done to you? You’re gorgeous and you’re only going to become more beautiful. Anyone who isn’t attracted to you must be dead inside. That said, I have to take drugs to perform, and I hadn’t. On top of that, you had a gag in your mouth, so you were in no position to consent. There was, and is, no lack of desire.”

“So, for future reference, I consent. I want, ok? If I change my mind, I’ll let you know.”

“Ok, message received. We already talked about protection. Anything off limits? Positions you don’t like?”

“No backdoor stuff without talking about it beforehand. Not that I’m against it, but I’d want to prepare. I do like being repositioned and, as you found out, a little choking is enjoyable, just not too much. I like the hand on my neck, but also like to breathe.”

She came up to the couch. “My turn. Anything I should know about your predilections?”

“I think you already know a bunch and what you haven’t seen directly, I have a bad feeling Chloe has shared. But if you are asking specifics, I find woman’s necks and backs incredible sexy, so I like it from behind. I really enjoy giving head – getting head is nice but not as interesting as other men make it out to be. Slow and sensual is better than fast and gagging – I’m quite sensitive to the way things sound – and I hate the sound of gagging. Reminds me of my cats throwing up.”

“Cats – you have cats?”

“Not right now, my old guy passed away recently and I’m still in mourning. I expect I’ll be bringing someone home from the shelter sooner than later. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all, grew up with them. I like ’em big and furry.”

“I like ’em big and live with the furry part. Anyway, we’re off subject – again.” She nodded. “Maybe most important, I’m not into rushing. A quickie can be nice, but I prefer when there is lots of time.”

She sipped her coffee. “You are so different than the men I’ve known. This should be fun.”

“It already is. Can I buy you lunch? Or do you have academic things to do?”

“Oh no, you are not getting away so easy again. I have nothing for the rest of the day and expect you to entertain me.” She got up and straddled me. I was struck again with how good she smelled.

Instead of something loose, she was wearing stretchy workout clothes. I couldn’t resist rubbing my hands up her back, sides, neck and finally into her hair. I had my elbows outside her arms, pinned them to her side. I slowly tightened my grip on her hair, holding her head in place as she closed her eyes and let the air out of her lungs. I held her and slowly pulled her closer until her chin was right in front of my face, kissing her shoulders and neck. I brought my hands down, each onto the opposite side of her neck. She looked down at me, questioning and expectant.

“Should we close the window shades?”

“I don’t know – should we?”

That was not the response she expected. “What will your neighbors think?”

“You think I give a shit what the neighbors think?”

A slight smile crossed her lips. “Leave ’em open.”

With that, I pulled her down and we kissed, more emphatically this time. Rolling, I rotated her down onto her back, placing my knees to either side of her legs, grabbing her wrists and lifting them above her head. I never broke gaze. Leaning in, I nuzzled the side of her neck with my nose and whispered “Don’t move. Stay just like that.” She nodded.

I lifted her shirt up and off, then put my thumbs under the sports bra and pushed that up as well. Thinking I was removing it, she lifted her wrists off the couch, but instead I wrapped it around her wrists a few times. “Very clever.”

“Shhh, don’t talk.” I pulled her leggings down and used them to wrap her ankles. “Don’t go anywhere.”

I grabbed straps, cuffs and a shiny red bondage belt. Sliding my left arm under her waist, I pulled the belt under her, looped my fingers through a ring and lifted her up off the couch. Her head izmit escort snapped toward me with a questioning look – I just smiled, holding her up for a minute. Lowering her, I replaced the temporary ankle and wrist restraints with cuffs. She smiled at the clinking sounds.

The red looked against her skin as I ran fingers up and down her arms, torso, legs, studiously avoiding any erogenous zones. Even when I paused to adjust or add something, I made sure to always be touching some part of her. Her skin made little sucking noises as it lifted off the leather couch, an enticing sound if there ever was one.

I reached under her with both arms from one side, grabbed the belt and, without warning, pulled. There was a loud gasp as she flipped onto her stomach. Placing my hands on her upper back and bottom, I held her down as she struggled against the sudden change. Separating the wrist cuffs, I moved her arms behind her back, reconnected them.

Holding her down with a knee, I grabbed a strap, looping it through both wrist and ankle cuffs and pulled. Having no choice, she arched her lovely back, head hung down, breathing hard.

“Oh, my, I don’t, I don’t know if I can do this.”

“You can, I promise.” I watched as she relaxed into the hog tie. She was stunning, hair falling on either side of her neck. I released tension and her hands and feet fell back to the couch. I lifted again and she gasped as I leaned down to kiss the back of her head, now wet from exertion. She was warm, fragrant, perfect.

I adjusted the hogtie to be tight enough to arch her but not so tight that it was too much. I removed my clothes and sat on the couch with my hips next to her head. Stroking her hair, pulling it to one side, fisting and lifting her head to look at me. “You wanted more? You know what to do.”

She scooted forward, making that sound of skin against leather, and slowly lowered her mouth onto me. She remembered to go slow and easy. If I had been younger, everything would have been over right then – one of the few advantages of age. Up and down, lips and tongue sensually working me. It was amazing, quiet – she moaned ever so slightly as she moved up and down. Leaning over her back, I pulled up on the strap, stretching and releasing in time with her head movement. When I thought I might not be able to take any more, I lifted her off me by the hair and slid to the floor where my head was even with hers. She was smiling and flushed. I kissed her.

“My turn.” Not understanding me, she opened her mouth again. “Not what I meant.” I moved to her side and pulled up on her hips, so she was bent the other way, her wrists and ankles still together but now in a sitting position on the couch.

“How did you do that?” she asked, looking down and not sure how she got into this new position.

“Magic”. I reached over, grabbed a collar, and closed it around her neck. Looping a rope through the collar’s front ring, I attached it to the ankle cuffs and pulled both ends at once. Her legs went up and wide open, knees pressed against her chest.

“This is what I mean by my turn,” as I started licking ever so lightly, slowly, up and down. Head thrown back, she rocked side to side. I do not know how long we were like that – I could no longer feel or care to feel my aching knees and legs. All I did was lick, suck, touch, finger.

I could tell by the contractions in her thighs that she came, but I didn’t stop or count. She tasted even better than I could have imagined. Finally, face numb, I leaned back. She was staring at me, again, with an inscrutable look. I came up on my knees and kissed her, at first deep and hard and then slower, lighter until our lips barely touched. As I sat back, I reached to untie the rope from the ankle cuffs. “Don’t do that – not yet. I need to know what I look like- pictures?”

Who am I to argue. I took pictures. She didn’t pose, just sat there disheveled and glowing. They are prize possessions, for both of us. She showed them to her girlfriends, but I have never shared them, nor ever will – no one else deserves to see them.

I untied her ankles, wrists. But before I could stand up, she wrapped her arms and legs around my back and pulled me toward her. “Wait, let me get a condom.”

“Fuck you, Chloe told me you’re barren and I’m not waiting.” She pushed herself onto me. I don’t know if what happened could be called sex – she barely let me slide in or out, just locked onto me and ground her hips into mine. Never before nor since have I felt anything like it. My back and knees were in pain, but who cared. I came harder than I can remember.

The sun set. I moved up to the couch and she laid down, her head on my lap. It was warm, no need for a blanket today. I stroked her hair. We looked at each other and, I don’t know who started, but we found ourselves laughing our heads off. She pushed me over and laid on top of me. We talked about what I don’t remember, staying skin to skin.

She got up, showered, and said, “come on, you’re buying me dinner.” Who was I to refuse?

…

I was not used to this level of socialization. She stayed over- this time not letting me move to the guest room by hooking a leg around mine so that when I tried to get up, she woke up, looked at me disapprovingly, went back to sleep. When I woke up in the morning, coffee was brewed but she was gone. I texted her and went about my week.