The Freshman
by Ann Douglas
Whitney Pennington paused outside the classroom and took a
deep breath. Like so many other college freshman, the short haired
blond found her first day of classes at Northern California State
a rushing kaleidoscope of sights and sounds. One that, at times,
seemed overwhelming.
She didn't think it possible, but her heart was racing even
faster than it had been when she woke up this morning. Too
nervous to even try and have breakfast, she'd settled for just a
cup of tea to settle her nerves. Whitney couldn't remember the
last time she had spent picking out clothes as she had last night.
She finally settled on a rather simple yellow blouse and blue skirt.
First impressions were always the most important, or so she
remembered her mother saying while she was growing up. Not for
the first time today, the tall woman wondered if this whole college
thing might have been a mistake.
"It's just nerves," Whitney said to herself as she took a
second deep breath to calm herself. "I'm sure every college
freshman goes through the same thing."
With that, she stepped through the door and into her
afternoon history class. What she didn't say to herself was the
fact that most nervous freshmen weren't fifty-one years old.
The buzz of conversation stopped for a moment as she
stepped into the room. The same thing had happened in English
Literature earlier in the day. Most of the eighteen and nineteen
year olds mistakenly assumed that she was the Professor and
stopped what they were doing. This time, rather than add to the
confusion, Whitney quickly moved to the closest empty seat and
sat down. This brought a new topic to the conversations as they
realized that she was also a student.
A few minutes later, the actual History Professor walked
into the room. To Whitney's surprise, even she was at least
twenty years younger than the new freshman. She introduced
herself as Professor Rodriguez and welcomed them to Late
Twentieth Century History.
Whitney listened intently as the Instructor outlined the
syllabus for the semester, taking notes of the highlights. The
more she listened, the more Whitney thought she was going to like
this class. She had always been fascinated by history. If things
had gone differently in her life, she might have considered
becoming a teacher herself.
But as someone once said much better than she ever could,
life was what happened when you were busy making other plans.
Whitney had found herself pregnant the summer following high
school graduation and back in those days, there was no
consideration of not getting married. In 1965, the sexual
revolution had yet to come to Greenridge Falls.
As bad as her situation seemed back then, the seventeen
year old had it a lot better than the last two girls in town who
found themselves in the same predicament. Whitney loved the
father of her child, and he loved her. Stephen Pennington had
been her very best friend practically since kindergarten. No one
even raised an eyebrow when they rushed to the altar.
What followed were three plus decades of married life that
saw two more children added to the fold. It was an almost perfect
life, one that only ended, in the words of the minister so long ago,
"till death do you part."
At fifty, Whitney found herself a widow with three grown
children, two of whom were married. To that, she could add three
grandchildren, a newborn girl and two teenage boys. Her oldest son,
Jack, had grown up working in the family business and easily took
over when her husband died.
After a year of just keeping herself busy, Whitney had
mentioned to her daughter Diane that she was thinking of talking a
few courses at the local University. Something to pass the time
and indulge some of her interests. The youngest of her children
immediately thought it was a great idea and encouraged her to
enroll the very next semester.
"You'll love it," the twenty-six-year-old accountant had said.
"You'll have a lot of fun, and think of all the cute guys you'll meet
there," she had laughingly added.
Whitney had to laugh as well. Ever since she had hit
puberty, Diane had boys on the brain. If you compared photos of
Whitney and Diane each at sixteen, you would've thought them
sisters rather than mother and daughter. Just as tall as Whitney,
Diane had inherited her bust as well. A fact that wasn't lost on
the boys in her high school. Her hair was a darker blond than her
mother's, but they both had a perpetually cheerful face.
"Sure, I can see them now all lining up to date the old lady,"
Whitney had laughed in return. "After all, just think how popular
someone who can walk into a liquor store and buy beer can be."
Joking aside, Whitney had agreed with her daughter and
enrolled for a few courses. Aside from a few moments of
hesitation, it had so far been a good experience. By the end of
both the class and Professor Rodriguez's introduction, the older
woman was glad she hadn't chickened out. Something she had
considered a few times.
"Excuse me," a voice from behind Whitney said as the
classroom was emptying out. "Are you really a student in this
class?"
Whitney turned to face the owner of the voice. A young,
clean shaven man with black hair and a baby face. A few inches
taller than Whitney, he had the look of an athlete about him.
"Yes I am," Whitney said in a tone that was a little
defensive, "believe it or not, I'm a Freshman."
"Oh I didn't mean anything by it," the young man, who
Whitney estimated was no more than nineteen, said as he quickly
caught the defensive nature of the older woman's tone. "I just
thought you might be someone auditing the class, that's all."
"I guess I am being a little defensive," Whitney said in a
kinder voice. "Let's start over. I'm Whitney Pennington."
"David Jordan," he said with a warm and wide smile. "It's
nice to meet you."
"And it's nice to meet you, David Jordan," Whitney smiled
back. "What can I do for you?"
"Well, I asked if you were really a student because if you
were, I was wondering if you've given any thought to a study
partner for the course?"
"A study partner?" Whitney repeated.
"Yeah, there's a lot of reading in this course and I figured
that it would be a lot easier if I had a partner," David went on.
"History's never been my best subject and I admit I could use the
help. When I saw you I figured you might be a good choice."
"Who better than someone who's lived most of the history
that the course covers, right?" Whitney said.
"Oh, I didn't mean it like that," the young man quickly said.
"I just saw how you were taking so many notes and figured that you
were someone who was going to take this course seriously. Most of
the students take this class just to fill the history requirement. I
hope to do better than just squeak through."
"Why don't we have a cup of coffee and talk about it?"
Whitney suggested. "That is if you don't have another class or
anything more pressing at the moment."
"That would be nice," David smiled.
As they walked out of the classroom, Whitney felt that
despite their age difference, she had just made a new friend. Not
a bad start for her college career.
David, as it turned out, was older than Whitney had first
assumed. A sophomore and already twenty-one, he was getting a
late start on college life as well. But not as late a start as
Whitney, the older woman had laughed.
A star pitcher on his high school baseball team, David had
originally planned to go to college on an athletic scholarship. An
injury to his shoulder in his senior year had cost him that chance.
His arm had since healed, but he'd never regained the speed or
accuracy that might have been his ticket to the majors.
Determined to still get an education, the dark-haired young
man had gone to work and saved every penny he could to pay his
way. Then, finally, David had managed to get enough of a
non-athletic scholarship to make up the difference and here he
was.
* * * * * * *
Over the next two months, David and Whitney became good
friends. Most times it was easy for Whitney to forget that she
was old enough to be David's mother. A frequent visitor to the
Pennington household, David struck up a friendship with Diane as
well. For a while her maternal instinct took hold and Whitney
hoped the friendship between the two young people might lead to
something more. But it quickly became apparent that friendship
was as far as it was going to go.
Midterm exams appeared on the horizon before they knew
it, and Professor Rodriguez lived up to her reputation as one of the
hardest graders on campus. When the grades were posted, only a
third of the students in her class had passed. Of that third,
Whitney and David had the eighth and tenth highest grades,
respectively.
"We need to go out and celebrate," David said as he read off
the posted grades to Whitney over the telephone late that
afternoon.
"I'm afraid my celebrating days are a little behind me,"
Whitney said as she tried to imagine the wild partying that would
be going on in the dorms following all the stress of exam week.
"You go and have fun, and then you can tell me all about it."
"It won't be any fun without you," David countered. "I'd
have never have passed that test without your help."
What had appeared to be a joke the day he'd asked Whitney
to be his study partner, had instead turned out to be their secret
edge in class. Having lived many of the events they talked about in
class, Whitney brought a personal perspective to the lessons. It
was a whole lot easier to learn something when you thought of it as
something more than a bunch of lifeless facts and figures from a
book.
"Well you helped me enough with my math course," Whitney
replied. "It was payment enough for you to tutor me in a class you
took last year. Trust me, I'd be really out of place at the dorm
parties."
"Forget about the dorm party then," David said. "Let me
take you out to dinner, I owe you that at least."
"Well," Whitney hesitated. "I guess that would be all right.
But nothing too fancy or expensive. I know you can't afford to
just throw money away."
"Great, how about tonight?" David asked excitedly. "I could
pick you up about eight."
"Well that is a little short notice," Whitney mused. "But I
guess tonight would be fine. Why don't you let me make the
reservations?"
David was so excited that he quickly agreed. That pleased
Whitney as she had already decided to make the reservations at
Alberto's. The owner was an old friend and would be more than
happy to make sure that the bill David got in no way reflected the
actual cost of the meal. Whitney would pay the difference herself.
"You going out?" Diane asked as she stepped into the
kitchen and heard her Mother on the phone with the owner of
Alberto's.
"Why yes," Whitney replied. "David wants to thank me for
helping him with his midterms by taking me out to dinner."
"Just dinner, huh?" Diane said.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh come on, Mom," Diane said as she sat down in the
adjacent chair, "you can't tell me you haven't noticed the way he
looks at you."
"Don't be ridiculous," Whitney said. "I'm old enough to be
his mother."
"But you're not," Diane countered, "and some guys are
turned on by things like that."
"You can't think he's considering this a real date?" Whitney
said.
"Maybe," Diane mused, "maybe not. But I think you should
ask yourself if you consider it a date."
"What?" Whitney said in surprise. "You can't be serious.
He's twenty-one years old for goodness sake."
"Last time I looked, that was legally an adult, and then
some," Diane grinned.
"Okay, enough is enough," the older woman said. "This is just
two friends going out to dinner. That's it."
"If you say so," Diane finally said in an unbelieving voice.
"But I'll make sure I knock before waking you up in the morning,"
she laughed.
With the sound of her laughter still in the air, Diane turned
and left the kitchen, leaving her mother even more confused. In
the beginning, the fifty-one year old thought her daughter was
just joking, then realized that her youngest was quite serious in
her suggestions.
Whitney poured the last of her coffee into the sink and
rinsed out the cup. Whatever wild fantasies her daughter's
imagination might conjure up, Whitney had made a dinner date in a
few hours and she had to get ready for it. Dropping the coffee
cup into the dishwasher, she headed upstairs to shower and
change.
Fifteen minutes later, wrapped in a large white bathrobe,
Whitney stepped out of the shower, her body still warm from the
heat of the water against her skin. She stepped into her bedroom
and sat down at the vanity.
Whitney sat there for a few moments, looking at her
reflection in the large mirror. Try as she could, the blond couldn't
get her daughter's comments out of her mind. If nothing else, her
words had highlighted the absence of sexual satisfaction in her
life.
Since her husband's passing, Whitney had only gone out on a
few dates, mostly with friends that had also been friends of her
husbands. Of these, only one had ended in any sexual activity. She
remembered it as being a less than fulfilling experience. At least
compared to those she had shared with her husband.
Brushing her hair, Whitney wouldn't have been human if she
didn't consider how it might feel to actually act out Diane's
fantasy. Many a night she had played with herself as she ran
fantasies through her mind. The image of the dark-haired young
man filled the center of the mirror before her as she
absentmindedly slipped her hand beneath the fold of her robe and
stroked the nipple of her breast. A nipple she found erect and
hard.
Allowing herself to drift along in the fantasy, Whitney
pulled open her robe to allow greater access to her breasts.
Dropping her hairbrush onto the vanity, the blond took hold of her
other breast as well, her fingers caressing the hard tip.
Whitney had always loved the touch of soft hands on her
mounds, be it her own or that of a lover. Nature had been kind to
her, gifting her with breasts that were just large enough to be
sexually attractive yet also small and firm enough to have
successfully endured her years.
Deeper into the fantasy her mind wandered as one of her
hands slid from her breast to down between her legs. There to
find, despite having just come from the shower, her pubic mound
was moist with arousal. Her fingers gently probed within, sending a
small tingle inside her.
She closed her eyes and let out a small sigh, picturing in her
mind's eyes what David might look like nude. How his body might
feel pressed against her own. His hard young cock between her
legs, buried deep within her.
"Mom ..." came Diane's voice from the doorway of her
mother's bedroom.
Snapped out of her erotic musings by the sound of her
daughter's voice, Whitney quickly closed her robe. She hoped
Diane hadn't noticed what she'd been doing in the reflection of
the mirror.
If Diane had noticed the image in the glass, she gave no
indication. Whitney turned in her chair to face her, her hands
holding her robe tightly closed. Dismissing the last of the carnal
imagery from her thoughts, the older woman asked her daughter if
something was the matter.
"I just wanted to apologize," Diane said as she stopped at
the edge of the vanity. "I think I might've upset you by what I
said in the kitchen."
"There's no need to apologize," Whitney smiled at her
youngest. "I think I might've overreacted a little. I actually
thought you were serious."
"Oh I was serious," Diane said unexpectedly. "I really do
think a little fling might do you a world of good. What I'm
apologizing for is trying to press you into it. That's something
that you should decide on your own."
"You could really see me having a fling with a twenty-one
year old boy?" Whitney asked.
"I could see you having a fling with a twenty-one-year-old
man," Diane replied, stressing the last word. "I think you deserve
to have some adventure in your life. And I know, as sure as I'm
standing here, that Dad would've felt the same way."
"You really think that?" Whitney asked. "You really think
your father would want me to bed a man younger than any of our
children?"
So intent was Diane on answering her mother, she totally
missed the fact that David had been upgraded in her mother's
question from boy to man.
"I know that he'd want you to be happy with anyone who
made you feel good," Diane countered. "You can't tell me you
don't enjoy being with David. And not in the same way as you enjoy
being with Jack, Billy or me."
With that, Diane left her mother alone once more.
When she thought about it, Whitney had to admit she did
enjoy the time she spent with the younger man. When they were
alone, it was easy to forget the difference in their ages. In fact,
there were times when the twenty-one-year-old seemed more a
mature adult then a number of the men currently in her social
circle.
"Oh Steve," Whitney asked quietly of the framed
photograph on her dresser. "What do you think I should do?"
Of course no answer was forthcoming from the smiling face
of her husband, frozen forever in time. But as she looked into the
rich blue of her lost love's eyes, it suddenly occurred to Whitney
why she got along so well with David. In all the ways that counted,
he reminded her so much of Steve Pennington.
"Mom, David is here," Whitney heard Diane call from the
bottom of the stairs an hour later.
Taking a final look at herself in the mirror, Whitney said
that she would be right down.
"She'll be right down," Diane repeated to David when she
walked back into the living room. "Can I get you something while
you're waiting?"
"No, I'm fine," David said with a smile.
Diane took a good long look at David, decked out in what had
to be his best suit. She had to say, he was looking pretty good. If
she couldn't convince her mother that he'd be a good thing for
her, the twenty-six-year-old was tempted to find out how good
herself.
"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," Whitney said as
she stepped into the room.
David turned and was about to say not at all, but was struck
almost speechless at the sight of his date for the evening. An
almost silent wow was all he could manage.
Diane was surprised by her mother's appearance as well. It
had been a long time since she'd seen her dressed like this. The
rich red dress she wore had been sitting in the back of her closet
since before her Dad had died. Whitney had bought it for their
twenty-fifth anniversary party.
It was low cut enough to show off her still impressive bust, but
proper enough to be respectable. Around her neck she was wearing
the string of pearls that once belonged to her grandmother. It
was a testament to how well she took care of herself that Whitney
could still wear it after all this time.
"Shall we get going?" Whitney asked as she picked up her
purse from a small side table. "The reservations were for eight."
"Have fun you two," Diane called out as she watched them
walk out the door. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she added in
a much lower voice.
Whitney paused and looked back, giving her daughter a
cautious look.
* * * * * * *
"Mrs. Pennington, how nice to see you again," Salvatore
Alberto beamed when he spotted Whitney coming through the
front door of his restaurant. "It's been far too long."
"Thank you, Salvatore," Whitney said with a warm smile.
"Has everything been arranged as I asked?"
David was greatly surprised that Whitney had spoken to Mr.
Alberto in flawless Italian.
"Of course," the seventy-two year old owner smiled.
"Everything is as you requested, my dear. I can guarantee that you
and your ...."
The old man paused for a moment, unsure of how to refer to
her escort. Over the years he had seen a long procession of
patrons requesting a quiet dinner with an equally long line of
nephews, nieces and younger cousins.
"Friend will do, Salvatore," Whitney filled in the blank.
"Ah yes," he grinned knowingly. "I have personally selected
a nice table in the corner..."
"No table in the corner, Salvatore," the blond interrupted.
"I'm just having dinner with a classmate. There's no need to give
anyone any reason to think it's anything more."
"Not a problem, my dear," Salvatore replied, used to making
sudden changes for old customers. "Dominic, please escort Mrs.
Pennington and her guest to table four," he said to the waiter at
his elbow.
"Is there a problem?" David asked Whitney, unable to
follow the conversation in Italian.
"Not at all," Whitney explained. "Mr. Alberto and I are old
friends. We were just talking a moment to catch up, that's all."
"Oh," David replied as he followed Whitney and Dominic to
their table.
The conversation over dinner was almost better than the
food, which as always was first rate. Whitney couldn't remember
the last time she had enjoyed herself more. Certainly not with the
last two men she'd been to dinner with.
"That was a great meal," David said as he gently pushed the
now empty plate away from him. "I really enjoyed it."
"Yes it was," Whitney agreed. "it was almost as good as the
company."
David blushed at the compliment. A look of embarrassment
that threatened to become all too real as Dominic appeared at his
side. In his hand he held a small leather folder containing the
check.
David figured this little celebration was going to take all of
his emergency cash. Now that it was over, he didn't really mind.
His eyes lit up as he saw the total at the bottom of the
check. It had to be an error.
Now it was Whitney's turn to ask if there was something
wrong.
"No, nothing's wrong," David said, a grin on his face. "In
fact, I think everything's pretty right."
Whitney just smiled as he paid the bill.
"Well it's still early," David said as they pulled away from
the restaurant, "would you like to do anything else?"
"Well it is almost nine-thirty," Whitney said as she glanced
at the dashboard clock, "an old woman like myself does need her
sleep."
"Oh, okay," a confused David replied.
"Honey, I'm only kidding," Whitney laughed. "I've been
known to stay up almost till the end of the eleven o'clock news."
David now laughed as he realized she was playing with him.
"What would you like to do?" Whitney said. "We are, after
all, supposed to be out celebrating."
Well, I guess we could catch a movie at the multiplex,"
David suggested.
"Oh it's much too nice a night to be cooped up in a stuffy
movie theater," Whitney replied. "Why don't we go for a drive
along the lake. I remember it being especially lovely this time of
year."
"Okay, the lake it is," David smiled, glad that the night
wasn't coming to an early end.
A half hour later, they were driving along Lakeshore Drive
and Whitney found the fresh air to be as invigorating as she
remembered it. It had been a long time since she'd come this way.
"There's a small turn off just ahead," she said as she
pointed to David's left. "At least there used to be. If it's still
there, turn onto it. There should be a nice outcropping where we
can park. The view is magnificent."
Less than a minute later, an open dirt road appeared to the
left and David turned on to it. As Whitney had remembered, it led
up to a clearing with an unobstructed hundred and eighty degree
view of the open lake.
"Wow," David exclaimed as he put the car into park, "this is
really beautiful."
"Yes it is," Whitney agreed. "More lovely than I
remembered."
"Did you come up here a lot?" a curious David asked.
"You could say that," Whitney replied. "I think the first
time I ever came up here I was even younger than you."
"Thank you for showing it to me," David said, his attention
fixed on the vista before them.
"There's a path down to the water," Whitney remembered.
"Let's take a walk."
Guided by the light of the full moon, the two of them made
their way down the path to the shoreline. Whitney took off her
shoes and walked barefoot onto the small beach. A gentle wave
splashed up onto the sand and over her feet.
"It's been a long time since I've done that too," she
laughed.
Reluctant to get himself wet, David instead sat down on one
of the large rocks that framed the small beach. He watched as
Whitney stared out into the darkness.
"David," Whitney said, "how do you see me?"
"Excuse me," he responded.
"How do you see me?" she repeated. "What am I to you?"
"My friend," the twenty-one-year-old said without
hesitation.
"Just a friend?'' she asked further.
"I don't understand," David replied.
Whitney turned and walked out of the surf to sit next to
David on the rock.
"My daughter seems to think that you might have a thing for
me," Whitney said.
"A thing?"
"An attraction," she clarified.
"Oh."
"Do you?" Whitney asked.
"I guess maybe I do," David said after a few moments
hesitation.
"But..." Whitney added as she sensed there was more.
David seemed reluctant to explain further.
"I won't be offended by anything you say," Whitney
offered. "As you've probably noticed, I'm a real big girl."
"I am attracted to you," David said. "I think about you a lot.
Even though I know I shouldn't."
"You're going to have to explain that one to me," Whitney
said.
"I ..." he began, then hesitated. "I can't."
Whitney placed her hand on his shoulder and spoke softly.
"David, do you have sexual fantasies about me?" she asked.
"Yes," he answered almost inaudibly, as even in the dim light
she could see his face turning a bright red.
"Honey, there's nothing wrong with that," Whitney said
reassuringly.
He didn't seem convinced.
"Would it make you feel any better if I told you I've had
erotic daydreams about you too?"
David looked at Whitney in disbelief. It never occurred to
him that she could possibly have the same feelings, the same
desires.
"I have it on no less an authority than my daughter, Diane,
that it's quite common for young men to have sexual fantasies
about older women," Whitney said. "And in that same thinking,
I'm sure it's not that unusual for a mature woman like me to have a
fantasy or two about a young man like you."
"I don't know what to say," David said.
"Don't say anything then," Whitney whispered as she took
David's face in her hands and kissed him.
It was not the sort of kiss you normally expected to see a
fifty-one year old woman give a young man less than half her age.
Whitney's tongue invaded David's mouth with a vengeance,
exploring the soft wetness found there. After a moment’s
hesitation, David responded in turn. He couldn't believe the stuff
of his secret fantasies might actually be coming true.
"That was nice," Whitney smiled as they broke the kiss.
"Yes it was," David agreed a little sheepishly, feeling like he
was a sixteen year old on his first date.
"Shall we try that again?" Whitney asked.
"Oh yes," David agreed.
If anything, the second kiss was even more intense as
Whitney took David's hand and pressed it to her breast. As their
lips parted again, she pulled his head down to where his hand had
rested. His nostrils filling with the sweet aroma of the perfume
Whitney had earlier splashed there, David kissed the soft exposed
area of her supple mounds. His tongue explored the depths of her
cleavage as he felt the softness of her hand come to rest on the
hardness of his cock. For a few seconds, the young man worried
that he might actually come in his pants.
"While this wouldn't be the first time I've done it in the
woods," Whitney said as she rubbed his cock ever so slightly, "I'm
sure we could find someplace a little more comfortable."
David nodded his head in agreement, unable to find his voice
as he realized how far Whitney was willing to take what was
happening.
"Didn't we pass a motel a few miles back?" Whitney asked
rhetorically. "I'm sure we could find a empty room."
"Yes," David managed to say.
Almost amused by the young man's discomfort, Whitney
suggested that she drive.
David barely said a word on the five minute drive back to the
motel, silently staring instead at the beautiful woman sitting
beside him. Whitney considered the idea that perhaps she was
going too far too fast as she glanced back at the young man. Then
as quickly as the thought appeared, she dismissed it. Too many
times in the last twenty months she had let things go too slow.
Pulling into the parking lot, she was glad to see the vacancy
sign at the entrance of the small motel lit up. She would've really
hated to have to drive all the way back into town.
"Should I go and get us a room?" David asked as they came
to a stop, his excitement finally subsiding enough for him to act his
age.
"Only if you let me pay for it," Whitney replied. "After all,
this was my idea."
With that she handed him a few bills from her purse and
watched as he practically raced to the management office. Sitting
in silence for the brief time David was gone, Whitney felt more
excited than she had for ages. It had been a long time since she'd
had a sexual adventure.
"Room nine," David said as he came back to the car. "It's
right over there."
Locking the car door behind her, Whitney followed David the
short distance to the last room at the end of a long row.
The motel hadn't been here the last time Whitney visited
the lake. She had once overheard Diane and a few of her
girlfriends talking about it back when they were in high school.
Imagining what kind of dump it must be, Whitney had told Diane
that if she had to have a place to go with a boy, she'd rather
they'd use the small apartment over the garage. There was no way
she was going to keep her daughter from sleeping with her
boyfriends if that was what she wanted to do, but at least
Whitney could make sure they had a safe, clean place to do it in.
Most of the guests who registered at the Lakeview Motel
were those referred to as "short stay guests". Usually married
men with women not their wives, or young unmarrieds who for one
reason or another didn't have a place of their own to go. The illicit
nature of the clientele seemed to add to the excitement of the
moment.
The room was better than she expected out here in the
middle of nowhere. Filled with your basic motel furniture, it looked
as nice as any other Whitney had been in over the years. All she
really hoped for was for it to be clean and private, so finding it like
this was definitely a bonus.
"It's a nice room," David said for lack of anything else.
"Yes it is," Whitney agreed.
Whitney couldn't help but wonder if the young man would be
as nervous as he appeared to be if he was here with a woman his
own age. She knew from their talks that he wasn't a virgin, having
had the normal share of girlfriends in high school and his first year
of college.
"Maybe," she thought as she excused herself to use the
restroom, "that's part of what he fantasizes about. The more
experienced older woman and the inexperienced young man."
When she reemerged from the bathroom, Whitney was only
wearing a bra and panties, having left the rest of her clothes
carefully folded on the vanity. Both undergarments were black
lace and designed more to display than conceal. Whitney wasn't
sure what possessed her to put on something so scandalous when
she was getting dressed. She just knew she didn't want to wear
the boring plain whites that were her normal fare.
"I hope you're not too disappointed," Whitney said as
struck a pose, putting her best assets forward.
"You're beautiful," David said breathlessly.
"Well let's just say that I'm not in bad shape for a lady my
age," Whitney laughed as she stepped over and put her arms
around him.
The kiss she gave him was brief, with just a glimpse of her
tongue passing between his lips. She held him tight for a few
moments more, then took a step back.
"Why don't we make you a little more comfortable,"
Whitney said as she undid his tie and then the buttons of his shirt.
When his shirt was half undone, Whitney kissed the small
area of his chest visible in the opening of his v-neck T-shirt.
Nearly hairless, his chest was hard and smooth. Once his shirt was
gone, the v-neck followed.
Fingers outstretched, Whitney ran her long red nails across
David's chest, playing with his small male nipples as she passed
over them. On a playful impulse, she leaned over and kissed each
of them, using her nimble tongue to tickle the tips. Her late
husband had loved it when she played with his nipples. From the
look on his face, it was apparent that David shared that enjoyment.
As if to even the odds, David in turn reached up and undid
the front clasp of her bra. The lacy nature of the undergarment
had allowed a good look at both her hidden flesh and areole, but
once the thin material fell away they were revealed in all their
splendor.
David wasted not a moment in placing a hand beneath each
of her breasts, lifting them one at a time to his mouth. Using his
lips and eager tongue, the young man covered her mounds with wet
caresses.
"Mmmmm, that feels nice," Whitney said, meaning every
word.
As much as she wanted to continue and finish undressing her
young lover, she waited and let him have his fun. Ever since she
was a teenage girl, she knew her breasts fascinated men. In those
few encounters before and after her marriage, her mounds were
always the first things men had been drawn to.
Whitney eased herself back and sat down on the edge of the
bed, guiding David next to her. It was a much more comfortable
position for him to play with her breasts. With his hands, mouth
and tongue, the young man massaged her mounds, taking the thick
nipples between his lips again and again. Whitney stroked the back
of his head, playing with his dark hair and mouthing words of
encouragement. All the while she could feel herself becoming
wetter and wetter between her legs.
Whitney guided David back up to his feet and undid first his
belt, then the button and zipper of his pants. With a strong grip
on the waistband, she pulled on his pants with enough force to send
them dropping down to his ankles. A thin smile formed on her lips
as she focused on the thick bulge beneath his white cotton briefs.
The blond-haired woman ran two long outstretched fingers
over his hardness, outlining it with her nails. Leaning forward to
kiss it, she left the imprint of her lipstick on the white material.
Then, just as she had done with his pants, she pulled his briefs
down to his ankles.
Freed from the restraint of his briefs, David's cock sprang
to attention. Six inches long and slim, it was a monument to young
manhood. Enthralled by its beauty, Whitney kissed the base of it,
then the shaft, and finally the tip. She wrapped her fingers
around the base and ran her tongue up and down its length, drawing
soft sighs from David. Sighs that quickly grew to a loud moan a
few moments later as Whitney took his cock deep into her mouth.
"Oh God!" David exclaimed as he felt his cock enveloped by
the rich wetness of her mouth.
More than three decades of experience took hold as
Whitney drew David's manhood deeper and deeper within her.
Faster and faster, she moved her head back and forth,
sliding his cock in and out of her mouth, using both her tongue and
lips to drive him to ecstasy. Strong fingers gripped his ass as she
held him tight against her, swallowing almost his full length.
Whitney could feel the weakness in his legs and the building
tremor in the rest of his body as his orgasm desperately sought
release. A release that came a half dozen heartbeats later with an
explosion of whiteness into Whitney's waiting mouth.
Even as David erupted into her throat, Whitney pulled him
tighter against her, as not to miss of single spurt of his nectar. It
was a treat that she had long denied herself. She continued to
suck his young manhood until it had no more to give. Still
semi-erect, it slipped out from between her lips. Whitney took the
time to lick the last remnants of her efforts from its length and
kiss the tip of it once last time.
"Did you enjoy that?" Whitney asked as she sat upright on
the bed, knowing full well that of course he had.
"No one," David said as he stood naked in front of her, "has
ever made me feel like that before."
The praise made Whitney smile. It had hardly been David's
first blow job, but it was obvious he thought it was certainly the
best. After so many years of practice, Whitney had learned her
skills well.
Pulling David close to her once more, Whitney took his hand
in hers and pressed it between her legs. He could fell the wetness
through the thin material of her panties. Their lips met softly as
he began rubbing her pussy with outstretched fingers. As he
massaged the damp mound, a quiet cry erupted from Whitney's
lips.
"That feels good," she said.
"I hope I can make it feel better," David replied.
With that he slid his hand beneath the thin elastic and down
against Whitney's wet bush. His fingers quickly found her clit and
rubbed against it as well. This brought an even louder response
from Whitney.
With Whitney still sitting on the edge of the bed, David
lifted her legs and pulled off her panties. Dropping them to the
carpeted floor, he ran his hands up along the length of her legs and
then back again. He spread them apart, giving him a perfect view
of the hairy blond mound between them.
Without a further word, David dropped to his knees and
replaced his hand with his mouth. An eager tongue darted out
from his lips and slid between the folds of Whitney's sex. Up and
down it traveled its length, savoring its flavor and spreading some
of the excitement that filled the young man throughout the
woman's reclining form.
"Oh baby, yes," Whitney said as she closed her eyes and
enjoyed the sensation, intertwining her fingers across the back of
David's head. "Right there, right there, that's so good."
Despite his lack of years, it was quickly obvious to Whitney
that David was that rarest of finds. A man who truly loved to go
down on a woman and was also good at it. He lifted her legs and
draped them over his shoulders, giving him even greater access to
her prize.
As waves of erotic delight rippled across her body, Whitney
had to wonder why, with a talent as obvious as this, David didn't
have rows of girls lined up to go out with him. Then she
remembered her daughter's comment that some guys only got
turned on by older women. Whatever the reason, she just wanted
to lay back and enjoy it, hoping it would just go on and on.
Faster and faster David's gifted tongue and mouth devoured
Whitney's pussy, driving her into a state of rapture. Passions long
dormant rose to the surface with a vengeance, melting years off
the fifty-one year old.
"Fuck me!" Whitney called out as she writhed in a orgasmic
build up, the likes of which she hadn't felt since she was a
newlywed. "Fuck me with your tongue!"
As much as David loved making love to a woman with his
tongue, he had a greater desire as far as Whitney was concerned.
Pulling his head back from her saturated mound, he stood up and
grabbed hold of his cock. With a single fluid motion, he plunged
the hard manhood into Whitney's blonde framed pussy. An entry
made all the easier by the copious amount of lubricants his prior
efforts had produced.
"Oh God!" Whitney called out in a cry loud enough to be
heard two rooms away as she felt David's cock fill her.
Loud as the outcry was, it hardly registered in David's ears.
He was too intent on what he was doing. Wrapping Whitney's legs
around his waist, the dark-haired young man lifted her off the bed
and took hold of the cheeks of her ass. Whitney in turn wrapped
her arms around David's neck, rising up and down on his cock as she
did.
It had been too long since she'd felt a man inside her, at
least in such an aggressive manner. Her one instance of lovemaking
in the many months since her husband's death had been a rather
bland encounter in the missionary position. One that convinced
her that if that was the best she could hope for, then she wasn't
missing anything.
If she had known sex with David was going to be anything
like this, she thought as she rode up and down on his hardness,
Whitney decided she would've jumped his bones the day they'd
met. Hell, given her own sexual history, if Diane had any idea of
how good David was in bed, she would've beat her mother to it.
"Oh honey," Whitney murmured as she felt her climax
building to completion. "Oh honey, I'm going to come. I'm going to
come."
"Come for me baby," David echoed as he added his own
powerful thrusts to Whitney's. "I want you to come for me. I
want you to feel so good. "
A few more driving penetrations and Whitney granted David
his wish. He could feel the walls of her sex contract and press
against his cock, a bodyquake of long forgotten proportions
gripping her body. The sudden increase of sensation against his
cock was enough to trigger David's climax as well, sending spurt
after spurt inside of her.
Whitney's mouth opened wide in a silent scream as her
orgasm overtook her. They pressed their bodies hard against each
other, the sweat and heat of their passions mixing together as if
they were one. David's climax was no less intense, fueled by the
realization of a fantasy fulfilled.
As his loins drained of his youthful energies, he also felt the
strength fading from his legs. Unsure of his footing, he guided the
two of them back to the edge of the bed where they collapsed on
top of it, their arms and legs still tightly intertwined.
They kissed hard, putting the last of their energies into the
embrace. Finally both of them were spent, their eyes closing with
exhaustion. Not quite asleep, nor fully awake, they lay there in a
sort of twilight. Each was unwilling to let the other go.
"I love you," David said a short time later when they had
rested enough to talk.
"No you don't," Whitney smiled as she brushed a lock of his
hair from over his eyes. "But it was a nice thing for you to say."
David thought Whitney had expected him to say just that.
It surprised him that she brushed it off so casually.
"David my dear," Whitney said as she gently stroked his
cheek. "I'm not some little girl whose chastity you just
compromised. I'm a grown woman who went into this with her eyes
wide open. We're friends, that's true, and right now I think it
would be really nice to be lovers. But love itself, well I really don't
think there's a future there for the two of us."
It wasn't hard for Whitney to recognize the look that now
appeared on David's face. It was one of obvious relief. In giving in
to his urges, he had feared that he had destroyed the bonds of
friendship that had built up over the last few months. That fear
had caused him to confess to an emotion he really didn't feel. At
least not to the degree he was claiming.
"And don't go trying to act like you're not relieved to hear
me say that," Whitney laughed as he tried to hide his expression,
"because you really don't do it very well."
David just grinned.
"Still," Whitney went on as she pressed up next to him,
"there are other things that you are very good at. And right now,
given the choice, I think I'd rather have that."
As she climbed on top of her young lover, pressing her
breasts against his face, Whitney thought about her original
decision to go back to school. If this was what freshman year was
like, she couldn't wait to become a sophomore and see what
surprises that brought. But that was a thought for another day
she decided as she felt David's still eager mouth close around one
of her nipples once more.
END
(c) Ann Douglas 2000
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