The dinner–at a Japanese restaurant that Jack favored–was heavenly. He was impressed at how well she manipulated her chopsticks: he could barely get the food into his mouth, and scooping up rice with chopsticks proved so impossible that he was reduced to the shame of asking the waitress for a fork. Vanessa smiled at his awkwardness, but it was a genial smile that had a lot of sympathy in it.
In the midst of the meal, after some idle banter about nothing in particular, Vanessa was bold enough to ask: “What happened to your wife? I mean, to your marriage?”
Jack sighed wearily. “I wish I could tell you. Maybe, after twenty years of marriage, we just got tired of each other. Especially when our daughter graduated from high school–”
“Daughter?” she interrupted. “You have a daughter?”
“Yes. Her name’s Eileen. She’s a senior at the college.”
The significance of the remark didn’t escape either of them. Eileen was a year older than Vanessa.
“Anyway,” he resumed, “once Eileen was out of the house, the troubles got worse. We started arguing a lot–over nothing! Was I going through a midlife crisis? Was she? I just don’t know. So we just decided to split up.”
“So . . . where is she now?”
“Oh, she’s around. But I don’t have much communication with her.”
Vanessa quickly steered the conversation in a different direction, and the tension of the moment passed.
Jack took her right home afterwards.
From now on, their study sessions frequently evolved into dinner dates. Jack did indeed take her to all manner of restaurants–moderately priced to expensive–that he knew about; and although Vanessa protested meekly that he shouldn’t have to pay, he always did. It was a strange relationship: in one sense he almost felt like her father; in another sense she became for him a symbol of his own desperate attempt to cling to youth. There were, of course, other ways he thought of her, but he sternly kept those out of the forefront of his mind.
But there was one time–a Friday–when he invited her back to his house after dinner; and to his surprise she accepted.
It was obvious that both of them were nervous when they drifted into the house. Jack at once put on some soft jazz music to create a soothing atmosphere. Then he went to the sideboard at the back of the dining room and said, “I don’t suppose, Vanessa, you’d care for a liqueur?”
Once more a slight blush. “Jack, I’ve never tasted alcohol.”
Oh, God! Here he was corrupting the youth! She was still a year away from being legally able to imbibe–but surely a little glass of Amaretto wouldn’t hurt?
“Just try this,” he said after pouring out a shot for her. “I think you’ll like it.”
She sipped it–and did like it, giving Jack the heart-rending smile that he did everything he could to elicit.
He sat down next to her on the sofa. She finished the drink, put it daintily on the end table nearest to her, and then–again to his surprise–rested her head against his chest.
The warmth of her body, and the delicate perfume she was wearing, were for Jack far more intoxicating than the liqueur had been. He gently placed an arm around her shoulders. Then, after some moments when he could detect that both their hearts were beating fast, he lifted up her chin and placed his lips on hers.
It was a soft, fluttery kiss–a kiss that two bashful teenagers might have given each other in the first flush of their mutual affection. It lasted a long time, and in the midst of it Vanessa snaked her arms around Jack’s neck and pressed her lips more firmly to his.
He could barely feel her small breasts against his chest–but he did feel them. Then Vanessa made another move that surprised him: she clambered onto his lap while continuing to hold her lips against his, taking his head in both of her hands and holding onto it tightly.
He could feel her hot breath as her mouth opened. She no longer seemed like a girl: this was definitely a woman who was kissing him. And that’s what led Jack to do what he did next.
He slipped a hand up her skirt and, as her legs parted, found the crotch of her panties. It was sopping wet.
And yet, Vanessa was so intent on the kiss that she didn’t realize what was happening. The opening of her legs had been an instinctive reaction of her body, not of her mind. It was only when his fingers pulled aside the panties and fastened on her sex that she suddenly became aware of what he was doing.
At first she felt she should stop this unexpected invasion of her body, and she put a hand on Jack’s wrist; but, aside from the fact that she wasn’t strong enough to push his hand away, those questing fingers of his were creating such an overwhelming sensation of warm, glowing pleasure that she realized she didn’t want him to stop. Instead, she held his head tight against her chest as he worked blindly–or not so blindly, for he clearly knew what he was doing as he stroked her labia inside and out, stuck a few fingers gently into her vagina, and, above all, rubbed her swelling clitoris with a rotating motion of his thumb.
Far sooner than it had ever taken when she was doing this act herself, Vanessa felt the telltale signs of her culmination emerging; and when her orgasm exploded, proceeding from her sex and radiating out all over her body, she cried out sharply while her slender body quaked and shivered. Now she was holding on to Jack’s head and shoulders desperately, as if she were a drowning woman clinging to a piece of driftwood. And Jack, knowing well how the female climax can be almost indefinitely extended by gentle fondling, sought to prolong her paroxysm to unheard-of lengths. At that moment he wanted nothing but to give her as much ecstasy as it was humanly possible to give.
At last she had to push that hand away, and she noticed how it was glistening from the veritable river of fluid that had poured out of her. She was now so overwhelmed with embarrassment–this was, after all, the first time she had ever come in someone else’s presence, and come because of someone else’s actions–that she was unable to look Jack in the face. But he gently pulled his head out of her grasp and looked up at her, even as some final shudders coursed through her frame.
“Did you like that?” he said softly.
With a shy smile she said, “Yes, it was wonderful.”
The question now became: was Vanessa prepared to do anything more? She was well aware that few men would be satisfied at giving pleasure without receiving any of their own; but she wasn’t at all sure she was prepared to do anything along that line. So she wasn’t entirely surprised when Jack began carefully undoing the buttons on her blouse.
She watched him fixedly as he worked, and when he finished he parted the blouse and pulled it off her shoulders. Now another concern overtook her–one that had haunted her for years.
“I’m afraid I don’t have much in the breast department,” she said lugubriously.
But that didn’t deter Jack, who unfastened the clasps of her bra and tossed it aside as he had done her blouse.
What lay revealed to his gaze was an extraordinary sight. He had never seen breasts quite like Vanessa’s. It was, strictly speaking, true that they were modest (he later learned that her bra size was 32A); but they weren’t really “small.” They actually covered a large part of her upper chest; it was simply that they were soft little mounds with the smallest nipples he had ever seen, even though those nipples had become hard and erect from her excitement.
“They’re beautiful,” he breathed. “You’re beautiful.”
He made her get off his lap, then gently peeled off her skirt, stockings, and panties until she stood naked in front of him. She instinctively placed hands over her breasts and delta, but after a while gave up the effort to cover her nudity as futile. As she endured his gaze with increasing courage and even a certain pride, he was struck both by the delicacy of her physique and also by its intense femininity. She didn’t need flamboyant curves to proclaim what a gorgeous woman she was; her overall bearing was enough to reveal her as a quintessential female, from her oval, faintly melancholy face framed by blond curls to the sloping shoulders and those exquisite breasts to the gentle flaring of her hips to her strong thighs and tapering caves to her small, dainty feet. And when, unable to resist a full inspection of this divine creature, he made her turn around, he took in the firm back and soft curves of her bottom, so small that his hand could have almost entirely covered one of the cheeks.
Making her face him again, he was also struck by the near absence of fur on her groin. His wife had been proud of her luxuriant bush, and he’d relished it too. But the sparse black hairs on Vanessa’s mons augmented the impression of her youth and innocence.
“Do you shave, dear?” he said.
“No,” she replied, puzzled that he could even ask such a question.
Without another word he picked her up–she was, of course, light as a feather–and headed up the stairs. Among the four bedrooms on the second floor, one was clearly a master bedroom, with its own bathroom and a spacious four-poster king-size bed dominating the area. Her eyes widened at the very sight of the bed, with all the symbolism it carried. After he had placed her on it, he retreated to the middle of the room and slowly undressed.
It was now her turn to watch him raptly as he removed one piece of clothing after another. But when he finally pulled down his boxer briefs and stood naked in front of her, she clapped a hand over her mouth and gaped in awe–and fear.
“It–it’s so big,” she whispered.
Jack’s member, which had been hard for some time, was a full eight inches long.
“I guess it’s a little bigger than average,” he said modestly. “But I’m sure you’ll manage.”
He climbed into bed, amused that at first she tried to slide away from him as if he had some contagious disease. But the moment she felt his skin pressing against her own, from head to toe, she relished the sensation and threw her arms around his neck, receiving his kisses and caresses with the full realization that it was her own desirability that was causing Jack to be so stimulated. But when he made her lie on her back, placed his body between her legs, and was about to enter her, she blurted out in a rush of words: