Apologize?

Her voice was very quiet, "Why?"

Trying for a friendly tone and giving a crooked smile, Woody said, "Oh, because I enjoy kissing a pretty woman. Or, because you are willing to show me you aren't angry with me."

Patsy looked up at him. "Oh no, I'm not angry. I thought you might be...you know...mad at me for letting you..."

Without saying another word, Woody uncrossed his ankle, and just stood there. He held out his arms to her and, as if Patsy knew exactly what to do, stepped between his legs, putting her arms around his neck. She lifted her face to his, and kissed him. Woody noticed her lips were stiff and tight. He broke the kiss and placed his hand on the back of her head, pushing her to rest against him.

"It's a little difficult to change the way you think about a person, isn't it? I was the father of your friend and now I'm a man. You were my daughter's friend, but now you're a woman. A woman I desire."

Rather than responding, Patsy simply nodded. Much as he told her in the bathroom the other day, Woody said, "Its okay, Honey. It really is okay." He gave little thought to his use of the term of endearment, Honey. However, he couldn't help it because it was how he thought of her. He took a deep breath, tightening his arms around her. "But I did enjoy that. Whew. For several months, I'd been beating myself up for the feelings I was having. The chance to touch you like that was more than I could resist. If I offended you, I am sorry. Honey, I am not sorry for a single thing I did. I enjoyed it and wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

"Why didn't you stay? I mean...I would have...maybe."

"Yeah, maybe...and I guess I left for the same reason. That's why it took me so long to come back over here. I was afraid. I probably still am, but I was too interested in you to stay away."

"I thought it was...you know, just me. I mean...I shouldn't want...well, not my friend's..." As if a switch turned on inside her head, Patsy stepped back and said, "I'll pour the coffee."

Woody reached for her as she backed up. He put his hand on her shoulder and shook his head. "Maybe later, right now, I want something else."

"Oh? What?" Her question was so innocent, for a moment, Woody did not know if he would tell her the truth.

"You."

Patsy took another step back, ending up against the opposite counter top, which was not quite as far away as she expected. A slight surprise showed on her face as she put her hands behind her to touch the cabinet top. The movement of her arms stretched the t-shirt across her breasts, unintentionally showing Woody that her nipples were hard and prominently pressing against her shirt. He didn't have to see those nipples because had already felt them against his chest when he was holding her.

She had not rejected him, but neither had she accepted him. She tried to smile, but only managed a nervous quiver of her lips.

"Does that bother you?" Woody asked, wondering if she said no, how much farther he would go in pursuing her.

Patsy shook her head, but said nothing. "I want you now, Patsy. Do you understand that?"

"Alright, yes, okay...I want you, too. I wanted to tell you, but...I'm not sure I can..." Patsy did not finish her sentence, because she looked down at the crotch of his pants.

"Damn." Woody muttered under his breath. "Who told you?" Maybe he should have asked a little more pleasantly, but if Patsy knew something, she heard it from another woman. A man would not say anything to a young woman like her, at least none of the men who might know the actual truth.

"I heard Mother and Aunt Jean talking." She lifted her face to look at him but she was still not comfortable looking him in the eye. "It was a few months after your wife... It was about...about who would...the woman that would get you...next. It was like...it was a contest. You know...the winner was going to..." She looked away from him, still embarrassed.

Woody turned around, braced his hands on the countertop behind him, and laughed. He tried to suppress the laughter but was unsuccessful. Then he groaned, long and low, almost a growl. Patsy stepped over to him placing one hand on his back. To her surprise, he turned, put his hands under her arms, and quickly lifted Patsy up to sit on the counter. Though Woody doesn't consider himself a strong man, he noticed that Patsy wasn't as heavy as he thought she might be. He sat her on the counter because he wanted her at the same eye level as he was.

"Oh lord, honey. I don't know why those women bother." He tried to keep his comment light, but he did not like knowing she might be so concerned. "I have to laugh about it. It's not what you think."

When Patsy started to move, Woody stopped her, placing his hand flat on her stomach. "I'll show you mine, but only because I've already seen yours. Okay?" When she nodded, he added, "But I'd rather do it a little more privately than the middle of your kitchen."

"Oh good. Okay," she said, as she hopped down from the counter. Woody was surprised she sounded so pleased, almost excited, at the possibility of seeing what amounted to a naked man. She took his hand and began to lead him across the living room, toward the hall.

Woody tugged on her hand to stop her. "Lights and doors Patsy. Turn off the lights and lock the doors. Unless you run me off, I'm staying the night."

"You mean..." she turned toward him, letting go of his hand, but did not raise her eyes above the top few buttons of his shirt.

"Yes. This isn'tfuck and then I go home. I intend to make love to you and it may take me all night to do it."

Her expression turned serious, "But, what if I can't..." her eyes looked up to his, and then she quickly looked down.

Woody stood in the middle of her living room. "Patsy, I'm going to make love to you. I'm not asking you for anything but to allow me to give you some pleasure. It's not about what I want, what I have, or who I am. It's about you."

"But won't you want... I mean you can't... You'll want to..." Her eyes dropped a little further, below his belt, but she quickly raised them. However, Patsy still did not look him in the eye.

"Stop," he said gently. "I am not a young thoughtless stud only interested in myself and what I want. That's what I'm trying to tell you. Now, if we both understand that, please turn off the lights, lock the doors and we will enjoy each other as long as we can, before one, or both of us, is asleep or exhausted."

Woody stood in the middle of the living room, watching Patsy as she checked the back door, locked the front door, and turned off the light in the kitchen. During those chores, she occasionally stopped for a moment and looked at him, but he did not move. He was patiently waiting for her to be ready to go to bed.

When she walked to stand in front of him, he took her hand and looked at her, but did not move. She looked up at him, as if the ask,What is the reason for this delay? As if he could read her mind, Woody said, "I only have one more question. Are you on some form of birth control?"

Patsy looked down the hall, but turned her face back to him. "Y-yes, ah, yes I ah, I take a pill every day."

"Good. Are there any questions you want to ask me?" Woody waited a moment, and then added, "I'll tell you anything you want to know about my past sexual partners or experiences, but I will not give you any names. Is that fair enough?"

"Do you...should I tell you... I mean, do you want to know the same information?"

"Not right now, Honey, I just want to be honest with you and hope you feel you can be the same with me."

As they walked down the hall, Patsy said, "I'm not...well, I don't do this. I mean, not like some girls." She talked through her nervousness, which told him more than the words themselves said. "I've been to bed with a few boys, but not... They didn't seem to like, well, I don't go out a lot. I mean...to meet, ah...men."

While going to her bedroom, Woody had a quick, very serious talk with himself. This young woman's lack of experience was greater than he thought. Also, his feelings for her were much stronger than he thought. He admitted he might not be able to keep himself from wanting more than an occasional night or afternoon with her.

Woody walked to the bed and sat down to take off his shoes and socks, as if he had done this many times before. Patsy remained standing just inside the door of her bedroom.

"Come here, Honey," he motioned her over to him. When Patsy drew near him, Woody put his hands on her waist and pulled her between his knees. "Tell me one thing you like about being in bed with a man."

She grinned, put her hands on his shoulders, and looked over his head, when she said, "You're warm."

"Oh my," Woody chuckled easily. "You will enjoy me. I'm told I am a furnace." He moved his hands to Patsy's back and pressed her closer to him until he could put his mouth against her, to blow his hot breath through her shirt. She wiggled a little from the tickling sensation and Woody pushed her back a little so he could stand up.

He lowered his hands and lifted the bottom edge of her shirt. "Can I take this off, now?" Patsy nodded once and held her arms out. He pulled the shirt up and over her head. She stood before him in just her tiny pink bikini panties. He didn't want to undress her any further because he already knew what was inside those panties.

"Oh, Honey, you are so pretty." And she was pretty. Woody may have wanted to touch every inch of bare skin he saw, but he knew Patsy was nervous, so he would wait. He had all night to enjoy this woman. Instead, he gazed at her breasts, they were full, slightly heavy looking, with dark areolas and slightly raised nipples. He slid his hands across the tops of her shoulders, which felt tense and rigid. Brushing the soft curls away from the sides of her face, Woody leaned over to kiss her softly. His hands moved down her arms and brought her hands to the bottom of his shirt as he helped her pull his shirt over his head. Woody tenderly held her hands again, moving them to his belt buckle. He helped her loosen the buckle until his pants fall to the floor. Woody was now standing before her in his boxer shorts and nothing else.

When Patsy took a step back, Woody held her upper arms for support as he stepped out of his pants. His hands lightly caressed her arms, slowly moving them downward, until he grasped her hands in his. Thankfully, his erection had not developed fully, perhaps due to his own nervousness or a very strong will, which kept his attention on other things. Still holding Patsy's hands he lowered them to the front of his shorts, closing one around the base of his shaft through the fabric, the other between his legs to cup his balls within his shorts.

"Okay?" Woody asked. Patsy didn't say a word, still standing there as she held him; she partially opened her fingers, and then closed them around his penis once again. "Women talk, repeating what they hear, and pass along what they think is juicy gossip." She looked up at him then dropped her eyes to look at his chest, and nodded. He leaned a little nearer to her and whispered in her ear, "None of them really know and it can be our secret." When he straightened up, she was beginning to smile. He told her, "But I can assure you it still works."

He held her wrists and moved her hands up to rest against his chest. Her hands were cold and stiff, with only her palm and the tips of her fingers resting against him. He took a deep breath, tried to relax, and felt her do the same, yet he felt a slight tremor go through her hands.

"Oh my, you are so pretty," he told Patsy again when he moved his hands to rest them on her shoulders. "I don't know where to start. I just want to enjoy you." Woody leaned forward and placed his lips against the side of her neck, feeling the softness of her skin, the rush of her blood, and the slight tremor of her nervousness, and he smelled the clean scent of her freshly washed hair.

Woody moved his mouth to her cheek, lightly touched each eye, and softly brushed across her forehead before touching his lips to her temple. He placed his lips on her mouth, touched her lightly and raised his head to see Patsy had closed her eyes. Seeing this he pressed his lips against hers more firmly. Woody was looking for a sign to see if Patsy was comfortable with this so for. He received the sign, when she lifted her head for the next kiss. She slid her arms across his chest and put her arms around him. Her hands were still a little cold, but that was okay as far as Woody was concerned.

Finally, Woody could really hold her. He put his arms around Patsy, pulling her a little closer, and this time really kissed her. He tilted his head to one side, slid his mouth across hers, and then did it again until she was comfortable enough with his mouth on hers for her to part her lips. He touched her lower lip with his tongue and left a trace of moisture. She opened her mouth a little farther, and he did the same thing with her upper lip. His hand went behind her head and pressed it toward him. Woody simply wanted to hold her, allow her to feel the warmth of him around her, and let her be comfortable in his arms.

How long Woody stood still, simply holding Patsy, he did not know. Sometime in the minutes of closely touching each other, their breathing grew slower and deeper, in unison with each other. Her clammy hands finally turned warm and lay flat against him until she was slowly moving them, up and down his back. The caress was so light he almost missed it. When he tilted his head down to look at her, she had turned her face for a light touch of her mouth on him. She lifted herself onto her toes for her next kiss, to the base of his neck. In turn, Woody tilted his head down farther, to take her next kiss on his lips.

Their next kiss was not like his previous gentle kisses. Nor was it like her tentative kisses. It was something else. It was electrical, a buzz up his spine, a tingle to his scalp, and the most mouth-watering experience he could recall. He felt chills on her skin and perspiration break out across his shoulders. Her mouth was hot; her tongue was relaxed when he touched it with his own, as he felt her arms tightened around him. It lasted forever. He did not want to separate himself from her. He may have lifted her off her feet.

When Woody could no longer bear the intensity, he lifted his head and rested his forehead against hers. Her face flushed, she tilted her head back, and she closed her eyes, her dark lashes resting against her skin. Her mouth was open, she was breathing hard, almost panting, and a tear was moving down her cheek.

"You're a beautiful woman," Woody whispered. "Someone I can cherish, hold, and protect." He pulled her tight against him and held her until her breathing slowed.

Woody finally took a step backward, slowly taking his arms from around Patsy. "Better now?" he asked. When she opened her eyes and nodded, he told her, "Turn the bed down and if you don't mind, I'll take this side."

Patsy moved to the other side of the bed. He copied her actions as she pulled the spread down, folded the top of the sheet and blanket down and replaced her pillow. She lifted her side of the covers and slid into her bed. After folding back the covers on his side of the bed, and turning off the bedside lamp, Woody lay down and turned toward her. He placed one arm on the other side of her and braced himself above her, leaned forward and kissed her once.

"Do you know what I want?" he asked quietly. She rolled her head from side to side. She was usually quiet anyway, but she had not said very much since he walked in her front door. "I want you to talk to me."

Her first spoken word was, "Talk?" She asked, not sure if she understood him.

"Yes, just talk," he said easily. "If I touch you like this," placing his hand against her cheek, "And you like it, tell me you like it, or just say, "Yes." He leaned over and kissed her gently. "And if I kiss you, or touch you, and you want me to do it again, tell me, "More." Can you do that?"

"Yes, more," she answered softly, smiling, looking up at his eyes as if she was finally understanding his instructions.

"My pleasure, Honey," Woody told her as he returned his hand to her cheek and leaned forward for a much longer kiss. Her response was easy and natural. She opened herself to him, pulled him toward her, and moved her mouth over his. As the kiss continued, Woody slipped his arm under her and felt Patsy put her arms around him.

He wanted to taste her, to yield to the temptation he had felt for a long time before the day he acted as her barber. Her response was giving him permission to pull her close to him, nibble on her lips, enjoy one small spot on her neck, and then find another. He gave her the closeness she wanted as her arms tightened around him. He shared his warmth with her, the sensation, and sensitivity of skin against skin. He was careful and tender as his hands moved over her.

He taught her to kiss him, brushing his tongue along the seam between her lips until Patsy opened her mouth. Woody kissed her cheek, but returned to her mouth. He slipped his tongue between her lips and sucked her tongue into his mouth. He nibbled on her earlobe. Patsy turned her head to give him access and hunched her shoulders as a chill traveled along her upper arms and down her back. Woody brushed the tip of his tongue across the tip of hers. He gently sucked her lower lips between his lips, rubbing the tip of his tongue from side to side. Her mouth opened wider and wider, opening herself to him. Her eyes closed and her body completely relaxed. Her hands moved up and down his back and rested on his shoulders, then finally moved to his face to hold his mouth against hers.

Her breathing was faster and Woody stopped counting the times Patsy whispered, "Yes, yes, oh yes," when he moved his mouth away from hers. He was listening to her wordless sounds, too. She enjoyed being kissed, would moan softly as his mouth and tongue tasted and teased her. He did not rush her. His kisses were soft, easy, and wet. He could taste her, and smell her, a delicious combination of something that was purely her, plus the soap she used, which he remembered from the day he was in her bathroom, and her shampoo. She wanted to kiss him, too. She used her mouth and tongue to discover the different textures of his skin, his freshly shaved cheeks, the skin above his dark beard, the softness under the line of his jaw, and the faint line of whiskers right above his upper lip, which he never seemed to get shaved as close as he wanted.

His mouth moved down her neck, teasing her, tasting her, and feeling her warmth. His mouth left a trail of moisture down the center of her cleavage. He took his arms from around her, heard her whimper of complaint, and rested his palms on her breasts. She inhaled deeply and let her breath out with a wordless moan of pleasure.

Between kisses to the softness under each breast, Woody told her, "So pretty, so pretty, oh so lovely."

As his mouth neared one nipple, his hand moved to the side of her breast. He rested the flat of his tongue against her nipple and she shivered.

Patsy whispered, "Yes,", when he drew the areola and nipple into his mouth. She said it again when she pushed her breast against his mouth.

Woody moved the tip of his tongue across her nipple, felt it begin to harden, and heard her saying, "More, more, yes."

Encouraged by Patsy's responses and her eagerness for his attention to her breasts, Woody moved his palm back to cover one breast, making a circular motion by moving his fingers on her nipples and cupping her softness in his hand. While he was doing this, he placed his mouth firmly on the other breast. She trembled, quivered, and pushed her breast against him.