He was sitting in the bar. Just an average bar on a normal Tuesday evening. He didn’t drink, but he enjoyed people watching. He loved being around humanity while also being invisible. Often, he would go out at night, find the busiest bar he could, grab a table, order a meal, and sit and read, while surreptitiously watching those who came in to meet friends, drink, celebrate, socialize, get silly, all like a living carousel swirling around him as the center. People noticed him, but because looking at the center while spinning around made most of them disoriented, no one saw him for long. He was an anomaly in the location. I mean, who comes to a bar to read?
As he was considering wrapping up his evening, he looked over the top of his e-reader, and his eyes caught the image of a young woman who didn’t look old enough to be in the bar, but since they carded at the door, he figured she was at least of legal age. She was stunning, and he realized he had stopped breathing at the sight of her.
She had short hair that framed the most lovely face he had seen in a long time. Her eyes glowed, even from across the darkened bar. He couldn’t stop staring at her. Her hair was dark but with lighter highlights. It framed a face with soft, pale skin. From a distance, it was hard to tell what color her eyes were, but he thought he caught flashes of blue when she looked his way. She was shorter than her friends, which added to the idea that she was a bit young. Her sweater hid other attributes that might have attracted his attention.
Suddenly, she looked up from her conversation and their eyes locked. Normally, he would look away or down back to his book. This time, though, it was like she was a high-powered magnet that had locked onto his gaze. She smiled the most lovely smile he had ever seen. Her teeth weren’t perfect. But neither were his. Her smile was mesmerizing, and that single moment was frozen in time. He could have stayed there all night, sharing it with this stranger, captured in a comfortable moment of connection.
He noticed that she had returned her gaze to her friends and their conversation. The thoughts came screaming in his head, “She’s too young for you! She would not be interested in some old, bald, dad-bod guy! Not to mention, even if you were in better shape and had hair, she is way out of your league!” All of his pessimism seemed to be on duty tonight and hammered him with reasons he should just return to his book, as well as reality.
Before he dropped his gaze, though, he noticed she brushed her hair behind her ear and looked sidelong at him, one more time. A smile appeared on that beautiful face, but she didn’t turn it back towards him.
With a heavy sigh, his attention came back to his book, and the world around him disappeared.
After a while, he glanced back up to see if his young goddess was still there, but the group of ladies had gone. He took a quick look around the bar to see if they had taken a table or seats at the bar, but he couldn’t see her. With another sigh and a thought of what could be, in an alternate reality, he looked down at his book again and decided that with one more drink, he would be done for the evening and head home.
Suddenly, he felt the table move a bit, and his eyes saw a pair of hands appear on the table over the top of his book.
Slowly, with a held breath, his eyes followed the hands to the arms, and the jacket up to that face that had slapped him emotionally just a short time ago.
It was her. The young lady. The beautiful young lady. The beautiful way too young for him, the lady who was out of his league.
If this was actually happening and not just in his imagination, he decided he had to be smooth.
“Ummm, hello.” Oh, so fucking smooth. What a dumb ass.
She smiled at him, seeming to enjoy his nervousness and lack of skill.
“Ummm, hello back,” she replied with a light giggle.
“Sorry, I really am well spoken and intelligent and can form sentences, I swear. It’s just that you caught me off guard, is all. I’m still not completely convinced I am not having a hallucination caused by a stroke of some sort,” he said.
She reached out her hand and placed it on his. “Does this feel like a hallucination?” she asked.
“Ummmmm, nope. Not at all,” he stammered. Her hand was small, warm, and incredibly soft. Even though it was just her hand on his, the contact had made him very erect suddenly. His heart was racing, his breathing was getting short, and he feared that he would have a heart attack and miss everything that was about to occur.
She noticed his anxiety, and he felt her hand give his a light squeeze. “It’s OK,” she said, “Just take a few slow deep breaths, like this,” she said, and together they took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. His eyes slid down from her lovely face to her chest, which he still couldn’t define, and watched as they breathed together. In and out, in and out, till he got his breathing under control.
“Thank you…” he paused.
“Sarah,” she answered the inferred question.
“Thank you, Sarah,” he replied. “I’m sorry. It’s been over thirty-five years since I did anything akin to picking up someone in a bar. Not that that was what I was doing. I wasn’t trying to make a pass. Not that you aren’t fully worth making a pass at. I mean, you are beautiful. Probably the most beautiful woman I have seen in years. Not that you are just your looks, either. I am sure you are very smart. Not that I would know, because we just met…” he fell off because he realized he was babbling, not to mention blowing it. “Shut. Up. Dumb ass,” he whispered to himself.
He looked up at her stunning face again and noticed that her eyes were the most lovely pools of deep blue. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to return to your friends,” he started, “But I was serious when I said that you are truly one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. When I looked up and saw you, I simply couldn’t look away. It was like, at that moment, I could have been happy forever gazing at your face, and especially that smile.”
His hand squeezed hers as he was about to let it go, fully expecting her to leave the table and exit his life forever. An action he would always regret till the day he died. It would probably be in the top ten things that flashed before his eyes when it was his time.
But, she didn’t let go, and she didn’t get up from the table, and most importantly, she didn’t leave.
She reached up with her other hand, took his book out of his, and grabbed both of his hands, looking into his eyes.
At that moment, to have her continue to do that for even a few more minutes of his life, he would have given her anything she asked for. No hug or kiss or sex, just to sit there and look at him with those eyes, holding his hands and giving him that sweet smile that seemed to say, ‘It’s okay, I’ve got you, and I’m not going to let you fall or hurt yourself or screw this up.’
“You are very sweet. No, I’m not going anywhere. When I looked across the bar and caught you looking at me…the intensity in your gaze was so strong, I actually felt it, physically, in my chest. I think it even rocked me back on my heels a little. It was almost like a physical caress as you looked at me. And like in the movies, everything else in the bar, for just a moment, faded away and became blurry, as if the rest of the world was moving too quickly and you and I had stopped, frozen in time. I have never felt anything like that before. I know, it’s cliche. The young girl and the old man. That doesn’t matter to me. When the Universe hits you with a two-by-four, you would be stupid to ignore it. So, let’s see where this goes, shall we…” and she paused, leaning in towards him expectantly.
For a moment, he thought she was leaning in for a kiss…but then realized that she was fishing for his name.
He blushed, embarrassed. “I’m Justin,” he said.
“Hi, Justin. It is an honest pleasure to meet you.”
At that, he finally settled down. Their hands never parted. It was as if they were suddenly magically attached. The waitress stopped by to see if they wanted anything, and he ordered a ginger ale for himself, then looked at her. She ordered the same.
“I don’t really drink,” she said. “I just came to the bar to be sociable with my friends.
He didn’t drink either, just never grew accustomed to the taste. He asked if she wanted to go tell her friends where she was, so they wouldn’t worry. But she said, “No, that’s fine. They have already left. I had such a good feeling about you that I figured you could drive me. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Anytime, anywhere. If we talk much longer, I may just hand you the keys to my car.” He jokingly replied.
Sarah smiled back, “One thing at a time,” and she laughed. You could tell a lot about a person by their laugh. It wasn’t big and loud. It didn’t say, ‘Hey, look at me, I’m entertaining and fun.’ It was soft, subtle, and honest. Making her laugh brought a warmth to his chest every time.
They talked about themselves along with multiple different subjects. Even though she was young, she had a great knowledge of many of the things from his frame of reference. He loved not having to explain every reference he made, every joke, every line from a movie. She asked about a few, but she knew more than she didn’t.
Even after an hour, which seemed like minutes, he still hadn’t asked her age. He was honestly afraid to. Societal acceptance and all that. He knew she was too young for him. There was no way he could bring her round to Sunday dinner with his siblings. They would never accept it. Her friends probably wouldn’t either. He was just happy to be in the moment. To gaze into her eyes and hold her soft hands, hear the sound of her voice. It was a magical moment.
After the second hour, she finally took off her jacket. There was little to no help in the shirt she was wearing to define the size of her chest. She was so much more than her body, but he was also a guy, and although it shouldn’t matter, he did want to know about it.
He felt a tap on his hand, and his eyes rose to her face. There was a knowing smile on her face and an embarrassed one on his.
“Sorry,” he said, sheepishly.
“Don’t be. I hope you aren’t disappointed in what you see. Some men are. They aren’t large. They aren’t even big. I was blessed with less, as my father likes to say.”
“I’m not disappointed in anything about you. I’m still not convinced you’re real. But if you aren’t, I don’t ever want to wake up,” he said.
She stood up from the bench, reached over, and took his face in her hands, then pulled him in as she leaned down. Her lips touched his, and there was an actual spark that jumped the distance between their lips. He swore his heart stopped for a moment…then started beating faster than ever, as if it had been jump-started by a defibrillator.
In the back of his brain, something tickled.
“Did you say your father has a saying about your breasts?” he asked.
She sat back down and went to pull her hands from his, but he held onto them.
Her gaze and smile started to soften, then she almost started to look sad.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. You just had me so comfortable, and I was saying the first thing that came to mind. I really like you. I can’t remember when I had a more enjoyable conversation with an…” she paused, looking at him, trying desperately to come up with a better word than the one she had.
“Older man?” he asked, smiling.
“Yes,” she said, with a sigh.
“It’s fine. It’s true. I am old. Much older than you. Not even sure I deserve you. I’m not complaining, I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop, or you tell me that you will turn into a pumpkin at midnight, and this is all a fairy tale,” he said. “But go on. You can tell me anything. No judgements. I’m a great listener, and I might surprise you.”
Her hands tightened on his; she dropped her gaze and started to talk, but he couldn’t hear her over the bar noise.
He leaned over and was going to tell her to speak up, but he could sense that she didn’t want to say it too loudly, so he suggested she move over into his side of the booth.
She stood up and, without taking her hand out of his, moved around to slide in next to him. She pulled his arm up and over her shoulder, wrapping it around her. The other hand went to his thigh. His shaft jumped at the extra contact and closeness of her body. Her scent was just an addition to the magic that was Sarah.
“I’m afraid, when I tell you, you won’t like me anymore. I really don’t want that to happen. Because this night has been incredible,” she said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear.
“It’s okay, Sarah. As I said, I might surprise you. Go ahead. Tell me,” he gently urged, giving her shoulder a light rub and a squeeze.
With a big deep breath, she released it. “My mother passed away a few years ago. My father has not been doing well, and he misses her terribly. I have been taking care of him, and there are some nights I end up falling asleep in bed with him. Well, you can probably see where this is going. One night, we were in bed, and he thought I was my Mom. He started to cuddle with me, then he moved to touching me. I didn’t know what to do. He was dreaming and thought I was his wife. So, I went with it. He rubbed my chest, and my nipples got so hard under my shirt. Then, he started to press his penis into the cleft of my ass. He was dry humping me. Most of this was over my clothes. But then, he slid a hand down my stomach and into the waistband of my shorts. I felt my father’s fingers slide over my bare skin and along the slit of my vagina.
“I was in shock and also turned on. At first, his finger felt rough as I wasn’t moist yet. But, as he worked my little button, I started to gush. Then his fingers went to town. Rubbing me, stroking me, sliding inside of me. I hadn’t had sex in years, and at that moment, I was so turned on by not only the fact that he didn’t know what he was doing or who he was doing it to, but the fact that it was my father with a finger in my cunny.”
She paused and looked up at me to gauge my reaction.
“It’s your turn. If you want to get up and walk away, I wouldn’t blame you. I will tell you right now, I can’t help the fact that the idea that it was my father’s finger inside of me made me cum harder than I had ever climaxed before. I coated his fingers and soaked my shorts. I actually tore a hole in the pillow I was biting to stay quiet. And, it wasn’t the only time. I’ve let him play with me many times. I’ve even crawled into his bed naked some nights, and he has slid his hard penis between my thighs, humping my legs, rubbing it along my pussy. I’ve reached down and put my palm over his shaft, holding it against my slit, humping him as he humps me. I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it. Unfortunately, he also passed away recently, and I have found myself at a loss. Trying to find that same arousal that I had in his arms. Since this happened, I’ve tried to have sex with other men. But each time, when I let slip and call them Daddy, they get weirded out or upset, and we never have another date. So, do you want me to slide out so you can leave?”
She looked up at him with those fabulous eyes, light tears coating them and making them sparkle even more.
He never thought his heart would be able to feel so much for a person whom he had just met, let alone someone who was decades younger than himself. At this moment, he wanted to wrap this woman in his arms and hold her, explore her, taste her, experience her, and never let her go. He realized that he hadn’t said anything yet, and as far as Sarah knew, he was just like every other man she had met. A judgmental prick who doesn’t realize that she is stuck with something that many others say is wrong. It wasn’t her choice, but it’s become her reality.
“Sarah, I…
