A One of a Kind Woman

Who can say what causes attraction between people?  The learned professors who study such things say it’s just biology, our instinct to find a mate who can produce the most health children and raise them to adulthood to pass on their genes.

The romantics say it’s some sort of feeling that this person is the one.  They call that love.  “Love conquers all”, they say, and sometimes it seems as if that’s the truth.

I believe in love, but I also believe in biology.  It’s just difficult to prove attraction is romance and not biology.  The human brain often acts subconsciously and guides us to make decisions we wouldn’t make if we were objectively analyzing facts.  I know because I made such a decision.

Even now, almost forty years later, I don’t know which it was.  I don’t think it was biology because while she had wide hips and heavy breasts, the anthropologist's definition of fertility, she was past the age of bearing children.  I would think my brain would have known that, but perhaps our brains are so deeply imprinted with the drive to reproduce they sometimes ignore age.

I don’t think it was romance either.  I liked her and liked being with her, but with the wisdom of hindsight, I don’t think you’d call that love.  If I think logically, I chalk it all up to the naiveté of youth.  I was indeed young and didn’t know much about anything, much less about relationships.  Still, when I think about her, some of those feelings come back and I wonder what could have been.

I grew up on a city block in a large city but it wasn’t your typical city block.  Most of the people who lived around us were older and no longer had kids at home.  As a result, I didn’t have a lot of playmates.  On our block, there was only Josh, who lived two doors down, Bill who lived at the end of the block, and Julia, the girl who lived in the house across the alley from ours.

Josh was an OK guy, but he was two years older than I and we didn’t have much in common.  He liked sports and I liked model airplanes and model cars.  We did play catch sometimes, but I’d quit as soon as he started throwing the ball hard enough it hurt when I caught it.  He seemed to enjoy doing that.

Bill seemed pretty odd when we were growing up.  Bill loved music and art, and spent most of his free time playing the piano or drawing pictures.  I envied his talent at both, but he was just different, you know.  I liked Bill because he was always nice to me, but I don’t remember him ever wanting to do any of the things I liked doing.  It wasn’t until he introduced me to his boyfriend from college that I figured it out.  

Julia was a cute little girl, as I remember, though I didn’t think about things like that at the time.  What I thought about is how she liked to play with her dolls, but would never turn down my invitation to take a walk to the park to see if the ducks had babies or to just sit in one of our back yards and talk.  Julia was probably the closest friend I had back then.

When Julia turned thirteen, she changed, and I was well aware of that change though I didn’t quite understand it.  She went from a cute little girl to a blossoming young woman almost overnight, or so it seemed.  Our talks in the back yard changed too.  

Julia and I had talked about our families a lot.  Since there weren’t any other girls on our block, I was privy to a lot of things she’d probably have told other girls had she been able.  I knew her mother was divorced and worked as a factory worker.  I knew her mother didn’t like men.  Julia didn’t remember her dad because they’d gotten divorced when she was one and he’d never wanted to see her, but she told me her mother said he wasn’t a very nice man.  Julia said she probably wasn’t ever going to get married because of that..

When Julia started to change, so did our talks.  She wanted to talk about what was happening to her and I listened but couldn’t really contribute because I really had no idea what she was talking about.  By the time Dad sat me down and gave me “the talk”, I already had a reasonable understanding of sex because Julia had told me what her mother told her.  

Both explanations were different as one might imagine.  Dad’s explanation was short and pretty mechanical.

“She’ll lay on her back and you get on top of her.  When your willy gets stiff, you put it in between her legs and move it in and out.  After a while, you’ll feel like something is going to happen and then you’ll shoot your stuff inside her and it’ll feel really good.  Just remember that if you do that, you might get her pregnant, so always use a rubber so that doesn’t happen.”

Julia’s explanation was one I liked better, though it was that summer when I was nineteen before I completely understood how it all worked.

“The man and the woman get in bed together and touch each other all over and they kiss a lot.  After a while, the man will get hard and the woman will want him to put his thing inside her.  When he does that, she’ll feel it and she’ll want him to keep doing it, well, except for the first time.  The first time, it’ll hurt her, but after that, it’ll feel really nice.  If the man knows what he’s doing, she’ll keep feeling better and better until it feels like she’s going to explode.  When that does happen, it’s like she’s floating on air.”

Julia also told me about how the girl could get pregnant, and said she wasn’t going to have sex until she was married so she wouldn’t run that risk.  I agreed with her, because that’s what my mom had told me was the wise choice, though I was a little confused about the married part.  In less than one year, Julia had gone from never wanting to get married to talking about waiting to have sex until she was.

Julia and I were friends all through junior high and high school.  After we graduated, Julie got a scholarship to the University of Illinois.  She was going to be an English teacher when she got out.  As a result, I didn’t see Julia much except for the longer holidays of Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I didn’t get a scholarship to anywhere, so I ended up living at home and working towards an associate’s degree in mechanical engineering at the local junior college.  Once I had that, I planned to find a job with a company that would pay for my tuition to a four-year school and get my bachelor’s degree.

Like I said, I didn’t see Julia much, but I did see her mother, Patricia.  I was a bit leery of Patricia.  About every Friday night, Dad played poker with five other guys from the neighborhood.  It was just a friendly game with pennies being the chips and a ten cent maximum raise.  Mom and I would go with him.  Mom would talk to the other women while the men played cards.  I’d hang out where I could hear the men and women talk.  Over the years, I heard a lot about Patricia.

To the men, Patricia was sort of a riddle.

“With jugs like hers and that ass, she’d probably be hot in the sack, but I ain’t anxious to find out.  There’s some reason her ex dumped her.  I don’t have a clue as to what that was, but she must be a real bitch.  Seemed that way when I tried to talk to her that one time.”

“Harry, you talked to her?”

“Yeah, well, she did all the talking.  She was pissed because Ralphie crapped in her yard.  I guess she don’t like dogs either.”

“Well, I’d take her on.  After not getting any dick for all these years, she’s probably wound up tight as a two-dollar watch and needs some man to settle her down.  Janey is like that.  If I don’t screw her at least every other day, she gets damned hard to live with.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.  Cathy gets uptight too if I don’t let her ride the old pony, not that I mind.”

The women had a somewhat different opinion of Patricia.

“Honestly, you’d think she’d have found a man by now.  She’s certainly equipped to do that.  Bert drools every time he sees her.  I have to keep reminding him that big boobs aren’t everything.  I do wish mine were bigger though.”

“Cathy, there’s nothing wrong with your boobs.  At least you don’t have to carry all that weight around.  I’ll bet her bra straps cut into her shoulders, and those big boobs will be sagging down to her tummy by the time she’s sixty.”

“I know, but you know how men are.  They see big boobs and they’re horny as bunnies.”

“My Ricky isn’t that way.  He always tells me more than a mouthful is a waste.  Of course, he probably says that to make me feel good.”

Martha would giggle then.

“He does seem to like his mouthful.  I like it too, not as much as his you know, but I like it.”

“Well, something is keeping Patricia from finding a man.  Maybe she likes girls instead.  Wouldn’t surprise me.  She always looks at me funny when I sunbathe in the back yard.  I think she wants me.”

“Bernice! You wouldn’t actually do that, would you?”

“Well, I don’t know.  It might be fun.  Harry’s always in a hurry.  From what Sally down at the hair salon says, girls never get in a hurry.  I guess she should know.”

“Sally’s a lesbian?”

“Well, she says she likes men the most, but that girls are fun too.”

What I got out of all those conversations was that Patricia was probably a mean woman who didn’t like men and didn’t want one.  I didn’t completely understand the comments about her breasts and ass until I got older.  When I was old enough that I looked at Patricia that way, I did understand and I started to wonder how it would be.  Of course, I never told Julia anything about those thoughts.  She would have thought I was weird and probably stopped talking to me.

Part of my “rent” while living at home was mowing the yard and doing things Dad did have time for or didn’t want to do.  That fall I painted the garage that sat on the alley.  Between scraping off the old, flaking paint, making a few repairs, then re-priming everything and finally putting on a fresh coat of paint, I was out there every Saturday and Sunday from the first of July through the end of September.  I didn’t really notice at first, but after Julia left for college after Labor Day, it seemed like Patricia was out in her yard every time I was.

She didn’t talk to me for a couple of weekends.  She’d just come outside with a drink and sit in a lawn chair while I was working.  Since she was just across the alley from the garage, I couldn’t help but watch her.

It’s hot in September, so she usually wore shorts and a light blouse.  It wasn’t hard to see that she liked her tops to fit pretty tight.  Usually it looked like her big breasts were close to popping all the buttons on her blouse.  Her shorts, well, they usually fit loose enough if she was facing me I could see part way up the leg, and a couple of times when she bent over, I was sure I saw some panties.

Now, when you’re nineteen, big breasts and panties are guaranteed to make your cock stiff, and I was no exception.  I’d look at Patricia and then have to find something to do so I could keep my back to her or she’d have seen my stiff cock pushing out the front of my jeans.

The third Saturday of September, I was putting new hinges on the garage door when Patricia walked across the alley.

“Hi, Greg.  You’re working awfully hard in all this heat.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve kind of gotten used to it.”

She grinned.

“I haven’t.  I don’t like the cold, but I just about die when it’s this hot.  I just want to go naked some days when it’s this hot.”

A vision of Patricia naked sort of clouded up my mind then so I didn’t say anything.  I was mentally seeing her naked big breasts and wondering how they’d feel if I touched them when she laughed.

“I wouldn’t ever do that, though.  What would the neighbors think?”

I chuckled.

“Well, they probably wouldn’t like it much.”

She grinned.

“The women wouldn’t, but the men would.  I’ve seen how they look at me.  You look too.  I’ve seen you.”

I was starting to get nervous.  I had looked at her, like I said, and if she was watching when I did, she probably saw what looking at her did to me.

“Oh, I was just looking to see what you were doing.  That’s all.”

“It’s OK, Greg.  I don’t mind if you look at me.  I like watching you too.  It’s good to see a man working hard.  Most men don’t.”

Well, I’d thought of myself as a man for a couple of years, but every body still treated me like a kid.  I thought it was a little odd that Patricia said I was a man, and considering what I’d heard about her, even odder that she’s like watching me.  I wasn’t sure what I should say, so I didn’t say anything.

Patricia sipped the drink in her hand, then chuckled.

“I think I’ve embarrassed you.  Your face is red.”

“No, I just never had a woman tell me she liked watching me.”

She giggled.

“Julia says she likes watching you, or didn’t you know that already?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Well, she does.  She’s a lot like me, but then, I guess that’s to be expected – the old, ‘the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’ thing.  Don’t get your hopes up though.  She just considers you a friend, not anything else.  She has a boyfriend at college.”

I said that I hoped she was happy, to which Patricia smiled.

“Oh, she is.  I’m happy for her too, though it’s pretty lonely without her here.  It’s really bad at night.  We used to sit and talk about everything.  Now, I just sit and watch TV by myself.  What do you do now that she’s not around?”

“I watch TV too, but now that I’m back in school, I mostly study”.

“Ugh…must get boring.”

“No not really.  I like what I’m studying, so it’s hard but it’s interesting.”

Patricia grinned.

“Wish I had something interesting to do at night.  Maybe I’ll find something one of these days.  Well, I need to get back inside to my air conditioner before I melt and run out of my shoes.  Don’t work too hard, OK.”

I watched Patricia walk back to her house.  Dad and the guys were right about her ass.  My cock started to get hard from watching her ass cheeks move up and down as she walked.

Sunday morning about ten, I started mowing the grass.  I figured I’d be done by noon, have some lunch, and then I’d have the afternoon all to myself.  Mom and Dad were going to visit some friends so I’d be alone until at least five.  What I planned was to take a cold soda and my chemistry book out to the chair and table under the big oak beside the garage and do some studying.

I got the yard mowed and trimmed, had a ham sandwich for lunch, and by one, I’d changed into shorts with no shirt, and was sitting in the chaise lounge under the big oak tree in the back yard studying the various chemical compounds of nickel.    

It wasn’t all that hot under the oak because I was in the shade but it was still warm.  The ham sandwich and the warmth soon had me nodding off.  After the second time my head fell backwards, I gave up and laid the book on my chest.  It didn’t take long before I was asleep, and I’d probably have slept for an hour if Patricia hadn’t walked up behind me.

“Hi, Greg.”

Her voice startled me out of my nap and I must have jumped because she laughed.

“I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know you were taking a nap.”

By then, I’d raised up to see who was there, and when I saw it was Patricia, I smiled.

“No harm done.  I should be studying anyway, not napping.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have come over except I talked to Julia while ago, and I’m a little worried.  Did she ever say anything to you about having sex with her?”

I shook my head.

“No, we’re just friends.  We don’t think about each other that way.  Did she tell you we did?”

Patricia sat down in the chair opposite my chaise lounge.

“No, I’m worried that she is with her boyfriend at school.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much.  Julia is smart enough not to do that, and she once told me she wasn’t going to until she was married.”

Patricia frowned.

“I hope you’re right, but you know how it feels to have sex, and it’s a feeling that you want to keep having after you do it once.  I know she touches herself sometimes.  I’ve heard her in her bedroom.  I never said anything because I do it too and I understood why she needed to.  

“She didn’t say she was going to do it, at least not in so many words.  She just said she thought she loved the guy enough to do it but she wasn’t going to.  The reason I’m worried is if she’s told her boyfriend that and he started something, she might change her mind.  If she’d asked you, would you have said no?  Most men wouldn’t.”

“Well, Mrs. Riley, I can’t say one way or the other.  I’ve never done anything with Julia or any other girl, so I don’t know what I’d do.”

“You’ve never…not ever…not even making out?”

I chuckled.

“Just a little kissing in high school.  Since then, no.  I’ve been kinda busy with school and all.”

“Wow.  I didn’t think any man could keep it in his pants once he turned eighteen.  My ex couldn’t.  That’s why I divorced him.  He always said he had to work overtime, but what he was really doing is screwing two different women from his work.  I thought I was enough for him.  God knows, I tried to be, not that I had to try that hard.  I liked having sex with him.”

This conversation was getting uncomfortable for me.  I didn’t really need to know why Patricia had gotten divorced and I really didn’t want to talk about whether Julia was having sex or not.  I for sure didn’t want to know how much Patricia liked sex.  I tried to end it by being supportive but not inviting any more talking about sex or ex-husbands.

“Well, I’m sorry it turned out that way, but not all guys are like that.  I’m sure Julia’s is a nice guy or she wouldn’t have him for a boyfriend.”

“Well, I really hope so.  I mean, if I decided I wanted to have sex with a man, that’s one thing.  I’m old enough I can’t get pregnant and I know enough to pick the right man.  Julia…well, I’m not old enough to be a grandma and she doesn’t know enough about men to know what to look for.”

I decided the only way to get Patricia to stop talking was to stop answering her, so I didn’t say anything.  She seemed to understand.

“Greg, I’m sorry for unloading on you like this, but I don’t have anybody else I can talk to.  None of the women on this block like me and the women at work…well, I just can’t get that personal with them.  They’d tell everybody they know.  Julia always said you were easy to talk to, and she was right, but I’ll stop now and leave you to your studies.  I thank you for listening though, and you did help.  I’m not quite as worried now.”

I was glad when she walked back across the alley, and it wasn’t just because I got to see her ass cheeks again.  I’d put my chemistry book over my crotch because when Patricia sat down, her shorts rode up her thighs.  A minute later, she spread her legs and slumped down, and I’d spent the rest of the time looking at the lace edge of some pink panties where they dived between her thighs.  I couldn’t see much else, but that was enough to raise my cock.  Thankfully, it was pointing up, so my chemistry book covered it pretty well.  I didn’t think she saw anything.

I didn’t see Patricia again until the next Saturday.  Dad had decided the garage needed a new roof as well as paint, and had picked up enough shingles, nails, and roofing paper on his way home from work Friday night.  I was on the roof stripping off the old shingles when Patricia walked across the alley.

“Hi, Greg.  You’re doing the roof too?”

“Yeah.  Dad decided to take advantage of my free labor.”

“Well, I thought I’d tell you I talked to Julia last night.  You were right about her.  Her boyfriend tried to convince her to have sex with him, so she broke up with him.  I feel a lot better now.  Say, it looks like you’re sweating up there.  Would you like a cold drink?  It’s the least I can do since you let me bend your ear last Sunday.”

It was hot, and Patricia looked so hopeful I couldn’t say no.  I said that would be great.  She swayed her ass back across the alley as I was climbing down the ladder.  

She was going through her back door when I realized her shorts were different.  Always before, she’d worn shorts that had legs that came down over her thighs a little.  These were a lot shorter.  When she walked back to the chairs under the oak tree, I noticed something else I’d missed.  Patricia’s big, heavy breasts didn’t seem to have much support.  With every step she took, they swayed back and forth under her blouse.

She was grinning when she walked up and sat two glasses on the table.

“It’s just lemonade, but it tastes pretty good when it’s hot outside like this.”

I wasn’t grinning.  I was sitting there with my mouth hanging open because up close, it was obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra.  I’d always wondered if big breasts meant big nipples, and Patricia was showing me that in her case at least, it did.  Her nipples looked as big around as one of my fingers and they were making bumps in the front of her tight blouse.

She didn’t seem to notice that I was staring at her chest.  She just bent over and handed me a glass, then sat down in the chair opposite mine.  I took a drink to have something to do besides stare at Patricia’s breasts, and almost choked when she spread her legs again.  Her shorts were a lot shorter, but the legs were still pretty loose.  I’d seen that when she walked up, and thought I’d see her panties again.  The reason I almost choked was because if Patricia was wearing panties they barely covered anything.  Instead of pink or blue or any other color panties, I saw a little dark brown hair.

Patricia sipped her lemonade, then put the glass to her forehead.

“Mmm…this feels good.  I like being outside, but it’s nicer inside where it’s cool.  I bet you’re roasting up there on the roof.  I see you aren’t wearing a shirt.  Is it cooler that way?”

“Yeah, some.  It’s still hot, but it helps.”

Patricia sighed.

“I wish I could do that, but I can’t, now can I?”

I had this fleeting vision of Patricia’s big breasts and big nipples staring at me, but quickly pushed it out of my mind.

“Well, not where anybody can see you.”

“I know.  Women aren’t supposed to do things like that in public.  Say, I didn’t see your dad’s car in the garage.  Did they go someplace?”

“Yeah, they went shopping for groceries.”

“When will they be back?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t know.  They left about ten, and Mom wanted to stop by Sears and Penny’s on the way.  They’ll probably have lunch in town too.”

“Aah…so probably not until one or two?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Patricia emptied her glass.

“I think I’m going to have another one.  Want one too?”

Patricia’s smile wouldn’t let me say no.

“Yes, that hit the spot.”

“Well, come with me to my kitchen and we’ll have the next one in the air conditioning.  That ought to get you cooled out enough to go back to work.”

Some would say I was the fly and she was the spider, but Patricia didn’t really trap me.  All she did was have me sit down at her kitchen table while she filled our glasses.  I could have gotten up and walked out the door at any time.  It was only because of what she said and then did after she sat the glasses on her table that I couldn’t leave.

“When Julia told me she broke up with her boyfriend, she asked if I was seeing anybody.  She thinks I should get married again.  I keep telling her I haven’t found the right man yet, but she keeps urging me to try.  She say’s I’ll be lonely if I don’t.

“I guess she’s right about that.  I am lonely most of the time.  Well, it’s more than lonely.  It’s not being a woman like I used to be, if you know what I mean.  You do know what I mean, don’t you?”

“Well, I suppose you mean that you’re not a mom anymore.  I mean, you are, but Julia is pretty much out on her own now, so it’s not the same.”

Patricia smiled.

“Yes, there’s that, but there’s also something else.  It’s not being loved that’s the worst.

“Julia loves you.”

Patricia grinned.

“That’s not the kind of love I’m talking about.  I’m talking about what you were thinking when you stared at my chest.  Now do you understand?”

I suppose I should have just finished my lemonade and then gone back to work, but that vision of Patricia’s bare breasts came back to me and I couldn’t say anything.

Patricia’s smile was a little twisted, somehow, and her voice got lower and softer.

“What I mean, Greg, is that a woman needs to be touched so she knows she’s still desirable.  I need to be touched for the same reason.  I haven’t been touched in a long, long time.”

With that statement, Patricia started unbuttoning her blouse.  When she undid the third button, her big breasts sort of welled up into the opening.  When she undid the fourth, they slipped out.  After the fifth and sixth, her blouse was open all the way and her breasts were sitting there naked in front of me.

Before, just my imagination of her bare breasts kept me from talking.  Seeing the real thing kept me quiet until she lifted them and stroked her nipples.

“Greg, see how stiff my nipples are.  That’s because they need to be touched. I need to feel a man’s hands on me again.  You’re a man and you’re here. Touch them for me, please.”

Well, young and horny struggled with smart and logical for all of about two seconds before I reached out with one fingertip and touched Patricia’s right nipple.  She shuddered.

“Oh, God, I’d forgotten how that feels.  Touch me some more…touch me a lot.”

I was trying to do just that and seemed to be pleasing her.  Her nipples both got thicker and stiffer, and the dark circles around them got all wrinkled.  Patricia gasped when I pushed her right nipple flat and then let it pop back up.

“Ooooh…pinch a little, just easy at first.”

I pinched that nipple between my thumb and forefinger, and thought Patricia was going to fall out of her chair.  She gasped, her hips jerked, and she started to slide down in the seat.  She stopped herself though, and stood up.  She didn’t say anything.  She just pulled on my arms until I stood up, then put her arms around my neck, pushed her stiff nipples into my bare chest and kissed me.

Well, I’ll tell you, I’d never dreamed kissing could be like that.  I’d kissed three girls before and I’d seen kissing in the movies and it was never like when Patricia kissed me that first time.  

The guys in the movies never did what I did.  They just went on kissing the girl and then backed up and smiled.  Then they’d say something cute like, “it would be a shame to end the night like this”, and after they started undressing, the scene would change.  What I did was involuntarily push my stiff cock right against Patricia’s tummy.  

Patricia didn’t do what the women in the movies always do either.  What the actress would usually do when the guy stopped kissing her was keep her eyes closed for a while and smile before fluttering her eyelids.  Then she’d say something in a really sultry voice like, “I hope you’re thinking the same thing I’m thinking”, and start unbuttoning the guy’s shirt.  What Patricia did was move her hand between us until she felt my stiff cock, and then whisper, “let’s go in my bedroom”.

It took her all of a minute to unbuckle my belt, unzip my jeans, and pull them and my underwear down to my ankles.  She whispered, “lay down”, and after I did, she pulled my shoes off and then my pants.  She then stepped out of her sandals and worked her shorts down over her hips.  The few strands of dark brown hair I’d seen earlier became a thick bush that covered her mound and then went between her thighs.  I thought if my cock got any harder the head was going to explode.

As it was, my cock didn’t get harder, but it wasn’t because Patricia didn’t try to make it do that.  Once she was beside me, she started kissing me again and stroking my cock.  When she wormed her tongue into my mouth, I had to lurch up with my hips.  Patricia pushed her mound into my thigh and moaned.

She broke the kiss long enough to whisper, “suck on my nipples and touch me down there”, and then locked her mouth on mine again.

Now, part of what Julia had told me when we had our talks was how to get the woman in the mood.  Patricia already seemed to be in the mood, so about half of what I’d learned went out the window.  She was supposed to be dry when I touched her pussy lips.  She was already wet.  It was supposed to take a while before I pushed my finger inside her.  I was just trying to find the spot when Patricia gasped, lurched her hips, then grabbed my hand and pushed that finger inside her.

“Oh, yes, Greg.  Right there, in and out.”

I did that for a while, and kissed her too, until she pushed my face down to her breasts.  I understood what she wanted me to do.  I just didn’t understand what it would cause.  Once I sucked her left nipple into my mouth, she moaned and lifted her hips up into my hand.  She did the same thing when I sucked her right nipple, but after that, she reached down and pulled my hand up to the top of her slit.

“Rub right there, Greg.”

I felt the stiff little button under my fingertip and started rubbing.  Patricia caught her breath, then started jacking my cock again.  A little later, the jacking became pulling as she opened her thighs and pulled me between them.

I didn’t have to find the spot.  Patricia moved my cock head up and down her slit a few times and then rocked her hips up and moved my cock down.  With her other hand, she pulled on my ass.  My cock head slipped into wet warmth that made me groan.

Patricia kept pulling on my ass until my cock was buried to the hilt, then whispered, “in and out, Greg, like with your finger.”

I already knew that much, though Dad hadn’t really explained the feeling I was feeling very well.  He just said I should pump away until I came.  Well, I had the feeling that was going to happen really fast if I kept it up.  It always did when I jacked off.  I groaned again and then whispered, “I need to slow down”.  Patricia just thrust her pussy up into my stroke and moaned, “No, don’t.  Keep going.”

I felt Patricia slide her hand between us and then the motion of her fingers rubbing herself.  It was like she’d turned on a switch of some sort, because she started moaning with each stroke and pushing herself up to make my cock go in deeper.

I was getting to the point of no return and started stroking a little faster because I couldn’t do anything else.  Patricia gasped when I mashed her pussy lips flat with the base of my cock, and then started to tense up.  Slowly, she arched her back, then dug her heels into the mattress and started lifting us both up a little.  A few strokes later, I groaned as the first surge raced up my cock and inside Patricia.  The stroke after that, she gasped, then cried out, and her legs started to shake.

All the arching and leg shaking sort of made me lose track of everything except what it was doing to my cock.  That first spurt was great.  The second and third were better than anything I’d ever felt when I jacked off.  I think it was the way Patricia dug her nails into my ass and held my cock inside her while she shook and shuddered.

It seemed to take a lot longer for her to stop all that shaking than it did for me.  I was still buried in her when she eased back down on the bed, and she kept her hand on my ass to keep me there.

“Mmm…stay inside me Greg.  I like how it feels.”

It took a while before my cock did slip out of Patricia.  I think she’d have tried to put it back if she hadn’t looked at the clock beside her bed.  

She sighed.

“It’s almost one.  I probably should let you get back to your roof so it’ll look like you’ve been busy while your mom and dad were gone.  Promise me we can do this again though.”

I kept that promise as often as I could manage.  When I was still living at home, that usually meant Saturday and maybe Sunday afternoon.  Mom and Dad usually went shopping on Saturday and Sundays were their day to relax at a friend’s house or to take in a movie.

If our car wasn’t in the garage, Patricia would walk over to see what I was doing in the back yard and we’d usually end up in her bed.  A few times, she was feeling frisky and we did it in the garage.  She seemed to like taking my cock while she was bent over the workbench.

Once I got a job and an apartment, she’d come to see me every Friday and leave Sunday afternoon.  I’m sure my neighbors thought it was strange that a woman old enough to be my mother did that, but I didn’t care.  All I cared about was hearing and feeling Patricia cry out and start to shake as the waves swept through her body and then laying there with my cock still inside her and feeling the little aftershocks that she usually had.

It seems strange to me now that I did keep that promise.  Patricia was forty-eight then and I was nineteen, yet the difference in our ages didn’t bother her at all.  It sort of bothers me now, but it didn’t then.  My daughter is forty-eight and if she…well, I wouldn’t think it was right, but back then, I was in Heaven.  For a while, I thought I loved Patricia, but when I told her that, she stroked my cheek and shook her head.

“No, Greg, this isn’t love, or at least the love you need to find someday.  What we have is something we can remember always, but you need to find a woman your own age.  I don’t want to give you up, ever, but I know I’ll have to.  Until then, let’s just be us.”

I did find that woman a year after getting my associates degree.  I got a job as a technician and at the not so gentle urging of my boss, I’d made a donation to United Way.  When they entered my ten dollars a month into the pay system, personnel made a mistake and entered a hundred.  Since that was almost a fourth of my pay, I went to personnel to get it straightened out and met Brenda.  

Brenda is why I believe love exists.  As soon as she looked at me and smiled, something went “boing” in my head.  She was a tiny little blonde with sparkling blue eyes and a smile that beamed.  She took care of my pay problem and told me if I ever needed anything else, to just ask her.  It was a spur of the moment thing when I said the only other thing I needed was to buy her dinner some night.  It was a shock when she said she’d like that.

I didn’t tell Patricia about that date or about the next three dates with Brenda, but after the fifth, I was thinking I might have found what Patricia said I needed to find.  When I told her, she smiled.

“I knew this would happen, and I’m happy for you.  Now, go make that girl feel like you’ve always made me feel.”

I saw Patricia a couple other times when I went home to visit Mom and Dad.  The last time, she told me Julia had gotten married and was pregnant.  Patricia was excited that she was going to be a grandma.  She said being a grandma at fifty was OK with her.

One night, a year after Brenda and I were married, we were having dinner with Mom and Dad.  In the course of conversation, Mom said I’d never guess what happened to Patricia.

“Remember the house the Raymonds lived it?  Well, they moved into that assisted living place on Dunmore and an older, single man bought it.  He always dresses really neat, and he told Bernice he’s an artist, so we all figured he was, you know, one of those men, but guess what.  He and Patricia are a thing.  He’s been seen going into her house and not coming out until the next morning.”

I didn’t say anything, but I was hoping maybe Patricia had found the man she was looking for.  After dinner, I did find out.  I was in the garage looking for a box of stuff I’d put there when I moved into an apartment.  Patricia walked across the alley and said “Hi Greg”.

She grinned then.

“You’ve probably already heard about Reggie, haven’t you?”

“Well, I heard you have a new friend.”

Patricia giggled.

“Oh, he’s more than just a friend, a lot more.”

“So, are you two going to get married?”

Patricia shook her head.

“No.  Getting married would complicate things a lot.  See, Reggie likes men too.  He’s going to introduce me to one of his friends this weekend.  He’s promised I’ll like it.  It ought to be fun, being with two men at the same time.  Julia would die if she knew, but I’m not going to tell her.  It’s none of her business how I live now that she’s gone.”

“Well, I wish you all the best Patricia.”

She smiled.

“Thank you, Greg.  You don’t know how much you meant to me when I needed you and how nice that makes me feel now.”

Well, I did know, or at least thought I did.  Patricia meant a lot to me too.  She still does.  She taught me about sex and without realizing it, she also taught me a lot about women.  Brenda is getting the benefits of that now, and she really enjoys it.  One Sunday after we’d had a little afternoon romp in the bed, Brenda asked me once where I learned so much about women and what they like.  I thought about that for a second and then lied out my ass.

“Mom taught me.”

“Your mother taught you how to have sex?  Oh, God, she didn’t let you…”

“No, of course not, but she did explain a lot of things most mothers probably don’t.”

Brenda just grinned.

“Well, I’m glad she did.  Wanna show me what she taught you again?”

Now, all the marriage manuals say you shouldn’t lie to your spouse, but I figured what Brenda didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.  That was in the past, anyway, and it can’t be repeated.  I’ll never be nineteen again, and there will never be another Patricia.  She was one of a kind.