Ashley & Mr. Thomas 

Thursday:

No matter how many times I'd gone to the Adult Video place to wank, I've
always gotten an excited but scared feeling as I've gone in.  What if
someone were to see me?  Of course, having been divorced for 3 years, I no
longer had to fear that someone would tell my wife.  In fact, since my son
took her side and barely speaks to me, there's really nobody who'd
care.  But still, I get that feeling.

In the last years of marriage and the three years since, this was the extent
of my sex life - once a week or so at the video place watching movies of
women who would never look twice at me in real life fuck men who looked
nothing like me.  Fifty-three years old, gray hair, gray beard.  I was still
in pretty good shape, but nothing that would turn anyone's head.  A lonely
life.

As I walked towards the door, I saw a young woman in a business suit get out
of a Lexus and walk towards the store.  Her long, straight brown hair was
tied in the back.  The suit skirt was tight over her slender hips, and the
vest gaped to reveal a white blouse and some perky breasts.  Her face was to
die for, even in the glary fluorescent lights of the entry.

I walked up the ramp behind her, trying to look nonchalant, hoping she
wouldn't notice me even as I was noticing her.  But when we got to the door,
she opened it, then held it open for me.  I smiled at her then froze when
she suddenly said,

"Oh Hi, Mr. Thomas.  Fancy meeting you here."

I searched her face, and while it looked vaguely familiar somehow, I had no
idea who she might be.  But she'd gotten my name right (though nobody called
me "Mr. Thomas" - everyone just called me George).

"Hi," I responded, smiling and trying not to sound as clueless as I felt.

"You probably don't remember me," she said as she followed me into the
store.  "I haven't seen you since 6th Grade.  Mr. Barton's class, the year
after your son had him?  I was the 'mayor'."

Ah, yes.  Mr. Barton, a great teacher, had run a model government in his
elementary school classroom.  They had elected officials and laws and
everything, and I could remember a skinny twelve-year-old girl who had been
the mayor, and who always introduced herself to everyone who came into the
classroom.

"I remember you," I said, "though I don't remember your name."

"Ashley Thornton," she replied, sticking out her hand for me to shake, and
smiling up at me.  "Let's see - that would be sixteen years ago, maybe
seventeen."

We were now standing just inside the door of an x-rated novelty and video
place, and we were greeting each other like old friends who might have
bumped into each other at the opera.  Weird.  Even weirder when she headed
over towards the dildos and vibrators, glanced back, and said simply,

"Come and shop with me," she invited, and as I moved next to her she added,
in a quiet giggle, "I'm looking for a 'working girl's best friend'."

Dutifully, I followed her around, aware that the only other customer, a
scruffy-looking younger guy, was watching her with unconcealed hunger in his
eyes.  We must have made quite a pair, for I was very literally old enough
to be Ashley's father (after all, she was a year younger than my son!).
Meanwhile, I was standing next to Ashley, trying not to get a hard-on from
thoughts of her using the various dongs on herself.

"I'm actually kind of glad to have you with me," she said quietly.  "There's
all kinds of creeps in places like this who think any female who comes in is
looking to fuck even a turd like them.  With you here, maybe this one will
leave me alone."

Ashley looked at the merchandise, making amused comments about the size of
some of the dildos, or their shape, or color.  She laughed at one marked
"Anal Intruder", which was covered in little knobs and looked far too big to
fit in her slender backside.

"Not for me, thanks," she said, moving on.

We'd gotten to the end of one aisle, and as she glanced back to make sure I
was following her, her eyes lit upon the tube of lube sticking out of my
pocket.  Her eyes flickered up to the sign behind me announcing the entrance
to the video arcade.  She smiled.

"I know what you were up to," she whispered to me in a conspiratorial
fashion.  "You were going to jerk off to some movies, weren't you, you dirty
old man."

I blushed, and died a thousand deaths, as this gorgeous young woman smiled
at me with her eyes twinkling.  I shrugged, as if to say, well, maybe.

"Oooh, I've always been curious, but I'd never go in alone.  Let's look."

With that, she grabbed my arm and dragged me back towards the hallway
leading to the back of the store.  As we passed the clerk at the desk, I
could see that the other customer was just in the middle of renting some
videos or something.  The clerk didn't see us pass.

Ashley, still pulling my arm, led me past the first few booths.  Peering in,
she could see the setup, with the TV screen, the bill slot, the single
chair, the occupancy light above the door, and the prominent signs reading
"One person to a booth, no exceptions".  Turning the corner, she opened her
purse, pulled out her wallet, slipped out some ones, then ducked into a
booth, leaving the door ajar, and me standing outside.

I watched as she slipped two bills into the slot and the screen came to
life.  Then she surprised me by backing out of the booth and pulling me to
the next one.  She pushed me inside and followed.

"I wanted it to look like we're in separate booths, just in case the clerk
checks the security camera when he's finished with the troll," she whispered
to me, as she inserted two more bills into this machine.

She sat, and I stood, as she pushed the button, flipping through the films.
She turned down the volume to the point where we could talk quietly.

"You like this stuff?" she asked, somewhat doubtfully.

"Well, most of it's crap, but some of them are OK," I mumbled, "and..."

I broke off, not sure I wanted to say more.  Not sure that I wanted to talk
about mindlessly wanking in front of the flickering images of sex, sometimes
for over an hour, until I'd squirt my load, wipe up, and head home to get
drunk.

Just then, she paused on one film, where an elegant young woman lay on her
back on a dining table, buzzing her clit with a vibrator, while an older man
fucked her with his huge cock.  Ashley seemed transfixed by the film.  I was
transfixed by her, watching as her hand pressed on her lap rhythmically,
watching as she licked her lips and breathed harder.

Suddenly, the video switched off, her two dollars exhausted.  The booth
light automatically switched on, and Ashley looked up at me, looking down at
her.

"I guess some of them *can* be OK," she said quietly, looking a bit flushed.

She stood, and I backed out of the booth with her right behind.

"Come on," she said.  I followed her back out to the front of the store,
where, after a couple of minutes searching, she found a vibrator that looked
to me to be very much like the one in the movie.  She went up to the counter
and bought it, while I stood, uncertain of myself.  This whole experience
was very weird.  Very exciting, but very weird.  I didn't know if it was
leading anywhere beyond my fantasies, and I certainly wasn't sure enough of
myself to try to push it.  I didn't even know if I *wanted* to push it,
because of her age.

As I stood contemplating this, and pretending to study whatever it was on
the shelf in front of me, she was suddenly there, very close, looking right
up into my face.

"Do you want to go with me for a drink, or do you want me to leave so you
can go back there and watch movies?" she asked, almost in a whisper, smiling
sweetly.  I was smitten.  Lust was gone.  I just wanted to be with her.

"A drink sounds great," I said, and with that she grabbed my hand and pulled
me towards the door.

"We'll take my car," she informed me, leading the way to her Lexus.  I felt
a bit uneasy about leaving my car in the lot, but I wasn't about to argue.
"I know a perfect place near here," she added as I climbed in.

Within minutes of our arrival at Chez Bistro, we were seated at a quiet
table with champagne and chocolate mousse coming, all at her command.  I
felt terribly underdressed, having not spiffed myself up for a wank night.
And I was a bit in awe of her command in this situation.

As we sat and talked, while the waiter brought us our drinks and dessert, 
she
told me about everything since I'd met her last - junior high, high school,
university, and law school.  She told me about her job as a corporate
lawyer.  There was no talk of a boyfriend or husband.

She asked me how I'd come to have so much free time that I could volunteer
in her classroom when my own kid wasn't even there, and I explained how I
had been smart enough to retire from programming with a couple of million
dollars to a comfortable, middle-class life, instead of trying to stick it
out and get rich.  Then I told her of my marriage, which had faded amicably,
before exploding into divorce for no apparent reason (at least, none that I
could fathom), three years ago.

She was silent a while, aware that there was still quite a bit of pain and
loneliness there.  She put her hand over mine and squeezed, and when I
looked up, it was into a face filled with understanding.  Seeing her care
kind of gave me a jolt, and popped me out of it.  I suddenly gave her a big
smile, and took another bite of the exquisite mousse, closing my eyes and
overdoing it a bit with the facial expressions of ecstasy.  We both laughed
at that.

Our conversation took off from there, and we spoke like old friends catching
up, which we really weren't, since I had barely known her as a child.  We
found we had many things in common, including hiking, a love of Thai food,
opera, even the same radio station (one my daughter had made me listen to
when she was a teenager).

Then she told me more about her work in litigation and contracts.  After a
pause in the conversation, I asked a question that I'd been dying to ask.
"It seems to me that there ought to be a nice young lawyer trying to enter
into a long-term contract with you?"

She just laughed.  "No lawyers for me, thanks anyway.  They're all jerks."
She sat back, and her eyes lowered. "The successful ones want me as a
prize, the losers just want my money.  The pathetic ones want to worship me
in the clumsiest way.  None of them wants me for me."

It was my turn to reach over and put my hand over hers and squeeze.

Unfortunately, her eye caught sight of my watch, and of the time.  "Oh no,"
she said, "I really have to go.  I've got an early court time tomorrow
morning.  But I really don't want this evening to end.  I haven't had such a
nice, no-pressure date, with such an interesting man in ages."

A date!   She called this a date.  I was so startled that I almost missed
her next words.  "We must do this again.  Are you free tomorrow?"

I gave her a big grin, and said "Ashley Thornton, you're on."

While she paid (well, she had invited me), she took the time to slip two of
her business cards out of her purse.  She handed both to me and said "Put
your phone number and email on the back of one of these, so I can call you."

She took my arm as we headed back out to her car, and we didn't say much on
the short trip back to my car.

But as we said our good-byes, she leaned over and gave me a quick peck on
the lips, then a slightly longer one.  "I've just remembered my purchase,
and that one video I liked," she said quietly.  "Maybe we can both remember
that video tonight."  I grinned at her, she gave me another quick peck, but
pushed me out.  "I've got to get going - I'll call tomorrow."

I'd barely gotten the door shut when she pulled away, waving and smiling.
As soon as she got to the road, though, she floored it, and her Lexus got
her out of there fast.

I was left standing next to my car, wondering just what was going on.  I
couldn't possibly date a 28-year-old lawyer.  Who knew what tomorrow would
bring.

I went home, took a warm shower, and got in to bed.  I did not masturbate,
but I did think about Ashley as she watched that video.  And I did think
about her vibrator.  And I also spent a lot of time thinking about all the
things we had talked about.  And I slept like I hadn't slept in three years.


Friday:

By morning, it all felt like it had been a nice fantasy, except for the
realness of the warmth I was feeling.  I got up and sang in the shower,
brewed some coffee and zapped a muffin in the microwave, before sitting down
at my computer to catch up on email.  I'd even forgotten that I'd given
Ashley my email address.  My heart, thus, skipped a beat when I saw a
message from "A. Thornton, Esq.", subject "Tonight.".  Normally I would have
thought such a message to be spam, but I knew this wasn't.

"George - Had an awesome time last night.  Want to go to dinner and a club
tonight?  We could meet @ 7:30 at . duh, I don't even know where you live,
so I don't know a good place to meet.  Anyway, let me know, and we'll figure
it out :)   Don't try to call, I'm in court all day, but I'll check
hotmail - Ash"

By noon an exchange of emails had shown that I lived quite close to her
office, and that she'd pick me up closer to 8:00 since her day was already
shaping up as a bear.

Having had everything arranged, I was startled when my phone rang at around
6:30.

"George? It's Ashley.  I hate to do this, but would you kill me if I
cancelled tonight?  The judge today was an asshole, and I've only just
gotten out of the courtroom.  I don't know if I have the energy to drive
home, get dressed, and come back into town."

She sounded really drained, and really sorry.

"You could just come here, straight from work, and I could cook you dinner,"
I proposed, letting the invitation linger.  I didn't want to pressure her,
but it was an honest invitation.  I really wanted to see her again.

"You cook?" she asked, sounding delighted.

"Yes, I cook," I said, trying to sound confident but not boastful.  I am a
good cook though, and I love cooking, especially for someone else.  It gets
to be a real drag cooking for one.  Hardly worth the effort.

"Well, OK, I'll come, but only if I can use your shower."  She was sounding
more upbeat already.  "At least, if you're sure it's all right," she added,
with doubt returning to her voice once more.  I assured her it would be
great, that she could use the shower, and that I'd love to cook for her.  I
explained how to get to my condo, where to park,  etc., and she told me
she'd be there in about half an hour, then she was off.

It didn't leave me much time, but luckily I had some food on hand, and
quickly made an appetizer of leeks, spinach, garlic, and parmesan, rolled up
in crust.  I cheat and use instant pizza dough, so that was in the oven
before Ashley was due to arrive.  I'd make curried lamb with carrots and
peas over couscous, unless she was a vegetarian (I should have asked), in
which case I'd have to improvise.

The doorbell rang, and I took the time to rinse my hands on the way to the
door, but I forgot to take off the apron.  So I must have looked quite a
sight, with my graying hair a bit frazzled.  I hadn't taken the time to get
nice clothes on either, so I was looking pretty casual.  No matter.  When I
opened the door, I was greeted by Ashley with a quick kiss on the lips.  She
looked awful.  She was tense, exhausted-looking, and her eyes looked about
to fill will tears of desperation.  But to me she looked beautiful,
especially when her face broke into a smile and she said "Whatever you're
cooking smells fabulous, I'm starving."

In she came into the kitchen, peeking appreciatively through the window of
the oven to see the spinach roll, handing me a bottle of wine, dropping her
coat onto one stool, and herself onto the other.  "Home at last," she said,
beginning to relax, just as the timer went off telling me the appetizer was
ready.

I popped  the cork and poured us each a glass, verified that she did eat
meat, and began to prepare the lamb while letting her unwind and vent about
the asshole judge, the insane corporation she worked for, the traffic
downtown, the price of wine, and the evils of runs in stockings.  She paused
only long enough to help me demolish the spinach roll and heap praise on my
cooking.

She finished her wine and her unwinding at the same moment.  I looked up
from my work, smiled at her (getting a smile back), and informed her that
there was still time for her to take a shower before dinner if she wished.
"Ummm - wonderful," she announced, "Point the way."  I found her a towel and
a robe en route, and she disappeared into the bathroom, while I returned to
the kitchen.

Just as I put the curry on extra-low to simmer for twenty minutes, I heard a
faint "George?" coming from the bathroom.  I'd noticed that the water had
stopped running a few minutes before.  I went over to the door, not wanting
to just barge in, and said "You called?".

"Come on in, I'm decent," she replied, so I opened the door.  I was
definitely not expecting to see the scene before me.  Instead of having
taken a shower, she was in the tub, and the tub was full of bubblebath.  I
had to laugh to myself.  The only reason I had bubblebath was that it was a
gag-gift at an awful "Freedom" party that some of the guys had thrown when I
got divorced.  I was supposed to use it with one of the sweet young things I
was free to chase as a single stud.  I'd thought that about as likely as
winning the lottery at the time.

Decent she was, though, as the bubbles were thick.  The idea that she was
naked, just a couple of feet away, got my dick in a lather, but hopefully it
didn't show.  Her hair was piled in a bun on top, to keep it dry, and she'd
scrubbed the makeup off of her beautiful face.

"Do I have time for another glass of wine while I relax in the tub, or would
that spoil the dinner?" she asked in a very sexy voice.  I assured her that
would be no problem, retreated long enough to pour us each a refill, and
check the pot (it would hold almost indefinitely).  I also grabbed another
slice of the spinach roll and managed to return to her side in a minute
without spilling a drop.

Taking the glass, she sat up a bit in the tub, and her cleavage rose
temptingly towards the surface of the bubbles.  Still decent, but very
alluring.  I sat on the edge of the tub, and couldn't resist leaning over
for a lingering kiss.  Then I hand-fed her a bit of the spinach roll.
"I think I've gone straight to heaven, George.  I hope this isn't all a
dream.  This is *exactly* what I needed," she purred.  We alternated bites
and sips, and I was emboldened enough to throw in a few kisses before we
were rudely interrupted by the timer in the kitchen.

"If that's dinner ready, it might actually lure me out of the water," she
said.  "I'm still starving."  I left her there to get out in private (not
that I didn't want to peek), and tended to the last-second details
(couscous, and a salad).  I was just putting the final touches on the
dinner when I heard a pleading voice "George, you wouldn't have some
slippers would you?"

Ashley had come out of the bathroom wearing the robe I'd lent her, and quite
probably nothing else.  Apparently she didn't want to get back into her
nylons and skirt, for which I couldn't blame her.  But that left her
barefoot.  I knew I didn't have slippers that would fit her feet, so I
offered to find her some thick socks, which she gratefully accepted.  As she
sat and put them on, I got some flashes of naked leg and thigh.  My balls
ached after years of celibacy.  They were hoping they'd get some nookie
tonight!  Ashley, with her hair down, her white terry robe, and blue fuzzy
socks, made for an interesting view - sexier, perhaps, than if she'd been
totally nude.

We had a great time over dinner talking about things other than work and
failed marriages.  We finished the wine, and I introduced her to port
afterwards as we indulged in some chocolate truffles.  Bliss.

At a natural lull in the conversation, Ashley leaned forward, and said in a
low voice, "George, I hope this is all OK with you.  I mean, just sort of
dropping in for the evening, taking a bubblebath, eating dinner in only a
robe.  It seems kind of forward of me, but I feel so comfortable here with
you, so right."

I didn't know what to say, so I just leaned over and kissed her, tenderly at
first, but then with more passion.  But then I pulled back.  "Ashley, it is
a little, well, strange, especially given things like the way we met
yesterday."  We both laughed at that.  Our age difference was also strange.
She could have been my daughter, but instead I was hoping she'd be my lover.
I didn't mention that though.  Instead I said what was really in my heart.

"Everything is new and alive between us, yet I feel as though you've been
with me forever.  I don't think you could do anything 'too forward'.
Anything you want to do is fine with me."

"Anything?", she asked with teasing eyes.  "What if I did this?"

She slowly stood, undid the knot in her robe, and climbed into my lap
kissing me frantically.

"I've never wanted to fuck a man as much as I want to fuck you now, Mr.
Thomas."  I just groaned in response, my hands finding their way inside the
robe to rub her back, her butt, her breasts.  God, she was an angel.

As we kissed, she pressed her pussy against the front of my pants and tried
to take off my shirt, and then my pants, but she was having trouble.
Suddenly she jumped off my lap and told me to get naked fast.  As I did so,
she gave the dining table a look, top and bottom.  Huh?  Then she cleared
off our dessert plates and glasses and sat on the edge.  "I hope this
thing's strong", she said, "'cause I want you to fuck me right here,
right now."

I was now standing between her spread legs, naked, kissing her neck as she
shrugged the robe off her shoulders and spread it out behind her.  She still
had the fuzzy blue socks on, which would have been humorous if I'd stopped
to ponder.  I kissed my way down to her breasts - good, soft B-cup delights
with big, dark, suckable nipples.  Then, as she lay down on her back, I
kissed down to her pussy.

There I was, kneeling on the floor, my face plastered against her wet,
insistent hole.  Her pussy was pretty hairy, which I love.  Her clit was far
bigger than my wife's had been, but I wasn't really thinking of comparisons.
Instead, I was concentrating on Ashley.  I nibbled her inner thighs, then
moved to her pussy lips and her hole, staying away from her clit at first.
I teased the edge of her vagina with my tongue and with one thumb, while my
other hand moved up to her belly.  I worked my tongue deep, deep, deep into
her hole, then licked up to wet her clit, then back to her hole.  I could
tell she was almost ready to have an enormous orgasm, so I moved one hand up
to her breast, and using the wetness from her pussy that was still on my
thumb, I began to tweak her nipple with the same rhythm I was using with my
nose against her clit.  My other hand curled around her thigh and began to
work the base of her clit.  I slowly moved my tongue from deep in her hole,
and started sucking her clit while still working it from above with my hand
and working her nipple with the other hand.  Her orgasm hit her then, and
juice just came gushing from her pussy.  Keeping my upper lip working
against her clit, I plastered my open mouth against the hole of her cunt and
drank it all down.  She kept cumming, and I kept drinking, until I felt her
hands pulling on my head, pulling me away from her center, pulling me up for
a kiss.

I stood up as she pulled my face to hers, and my rock hard cock was soon
pressed against her cunt.  She reached down and guided me in as we continued
to kiss.  Then I moved my kisses down to her neck, then down to her heaving
breasts.  But much as I loved sucking on her nipples, my back couldn't take
the contortions, and I stood up, gripped her hips, and concentrated on long,
slow, hard thrusting.

As she recovered from her oral orgasm, her eyes opened and she smiled up at
me.  Her hands moved to her breasts, and she played with them, moaning.
Then she suddenly sat part-way up and fumbled for the pocket of the robe and
pulled out a vibrator.  The vibrator.  The one she'd bought last night.
Turning it on, she lay back and pressed it to her clit as I continued to
fuck her hard.

And there we were.  The elegant young woman lying on the dining table
working her clit with a vibrator while the older man fucked her.  It was
just like the video in the booth (though admittedly my cock was no match for
the film monster).  I couldn't believe how my life had changed in just 24
hours, and I prayed this wasn't just a one-night stand.  But as she smiled
up at me, and we were launched into simultaneous, wrenching orgasms,  I felt
sure there was more here than just the fulfillment of a fantasy.

When she sat up to kiss me, I scooped her up and carried her off to bed.  We
climbed under the covers in the dark, and even as she was cooing to me,
"George - that was awesome.  I don't think I've ever cum like that before.
Oh, that was..." I was spooning behind her, my lips caressing her neck, one
hand reaching over cupping her breast, my spent cock nestled between her
soft, warm ass cheeks.  I gave her a hug, she snuggled back, and soon her
breath was even and deep.  My Ashley was asleep.

I awoke about an hour later, and it was still not quite midnight.  I slipped
from the bed, took a needed pee, and quietly cleaned the kitchen and the
dining table (I still couldn't believe we'd fucked there), and tidied the
bathroom.  I hung up her work clothes and admired her silk underwear before
turning off the lights, and going back to bed.

In the dim light I watched Ashley's face.  She was so young, but she was no
child.  I held no authority over her, I had not taken advantage of her.  We
were both old enough and sure enough of ourselves that the age difference
really should make no matter.  I hoped it would not.


Saturday and beyond:

In the morning, she fucked me, sitting on my face, then riding my cock, then
grinding her creampie onto my face and screaming in orgasm.

Saturday night, I fucked her, filling her mouth with first with my cock and
then with my cum, making her beg for my cock in her pussy, then turning her
over and fucking her from behind doggy-style.

We spent the weekend together, interspersing sex with talks and walks and
silliness.  She took me to her apartment so she could get some clean
clothes.  Her place was small and bare compared to mine.

Tuesday, I cooked for her again, and Thursday as well.  By the next weekend,
she begged to move in with me.  She didn't need to beg.

We have so much in common, despite our age difference, and we seem to
complement each other so well.  Sometimes she needs to be taken care of.
Sometimes she needs to be the one in control.  But sometimes she needs
someone to take control of her, use her, tell her what to do, guide her.  I
do all those things, and that's why she's still in love with an old
gray-haired guy.

We still laugh every time we pass the Adult Video place.  A few times we've
even stopped in (a girl does need a few toys).  We've even visited the video
booths again, but so far we haven't found the same inspiration we did the
first time.  The truth is, most of the videos suck.  Real love and real sex
are much, much, much better.