Beating the Disorder

About two weeks into Terrison's stay, I said to him, "You're really looking strong, sugar. I could take pictures of you-one or two a week-to record your progress, if you want. I won't use anything to manipulate the images, I promise!"

He took my light-hearted offer in the spirit I meant it. With a toothy smile, he said, "Okay, Janice, I guess I feel comfortable enough to do that."

I smiled back at him. "Nice! As photographer, I will visually direct the shot, of course. We'll get a good one; then we'll do our best to repeat the wardrobe, the pose, the setting, and everything we can, so we can compare apples to apples when we look at all the photos."

"You'll 'visually direct?' Then what do you want me to do?" he asked.

"Pick out a pair of pants or shorts that you'd like to pose in," I said. "I'll pick the backdrop, pose, and lighting when I see what you've picked."

In a few minutes, we had our shot. Terrison was in medium blue basketball shorts, standing against the pale yellow wall of my hobby room. He unconsciously flexed his muscles until I asked him to relax. Besides the indirect natural daylight, I used three of the track lights on the ceiling and one very strong lantern-type light on a tripod to provide some drama for the shot. (Had it been my imagination? To adjust the track lights, I'd had to use my step ladder-and I could almost swear Terrison had looked away when I'd climbed down-as though he'd been checking out my legs.) The strongest light I bounced off a collapsible gold reflector, getting nice backlight and softer shadow patterns.

Once I got the image, I loaded it to the computer. "Let's wait to look at it until we have at least three to compare," I suggested. "Then we'll be able to view them the way we did with the 'model progression' photos."

*X*X*

The next day was Friday. Terrison surprised me by waking up a minute or two after I did and asking to go along on my jog. Not wanting to squelch his optimism, I told him that first I should show him how to stretch so he didn't pull anything. After that, we'd do a little run. He agreed. We stood across from each other and I demonstrated various stretches for him, which he mirrored. Some of them he'd already known, because he'd been a sprinter.

I kept the actual run a little slower and much shorter than usual. Sure enough, Terrison was flagging by the end. His body had lacked proper fuel for so long that his stamina was lower than it ought to be. Since he was so young, he'd have no trouble building his endurance quickly.

"You've done far better than I expected," I told him when we got back to the condo. "It's way too early to say whether you'll meet the challenge or not, but you've got an excellent start. You look so good running, too!"

"So do you," he said. His eyes didn't quite meet mine. I guessed he was a little flustered by my compliment. I didn't know why; I certainly hadn't been trying to embarrass him.

*X*X*

It was early evening of the same day. I was about half an hour later getting back from work than I normally am. Fridays are often late days for me.

Apparently, I'd been quiet about getting back into the apartment. Apparently, Terrison had thought he would hear me.

Instead, I surprised him. When I started walking down the hall, I heard low sounds coming from his room-probably from his computer. Since the volume was down, I didn't know what I was hearing.

I suppose I should have guessed; but it's hard to think about my friend's grandson as growing into a man. The door to his room was open a few inches and as I walked past, I saw the entire scene. Terrison was checking out a video. It was the kind of video most guys (and some women, to be fair) watch one-handed.

And that's how this young man was watching. I only got a glimpse-because he didn't seem to know I was there and I didn't want to scare or ashame the hell out of him-but I could tell he wasn't too far from finishing himself off. His swollen penis looked pretty impressive: shiny with some kind of coconut-scented lubricant, erect and purple with hot blood.

Very quietly, I kept walking, just a bit past his door. I sensed an opportunity to build trust and to help his body image, if I could just get the timing right.

Listening for the right moment was everything. I had to hear that moment when he came, then the moment when he started remembering there was an outside world and he was still living in it. I strained my ears.

The casters at the bottom of his chair creaked as they rolled. I judged that this was the time. I knocked once, said, "I'm home, Terrison," and walked right into the room.

My timing had been good. He'd gotten his cock wiped off and his underwear pulled back into place, but he was otherwise unready. His reflexes were quick enough to grab a pillow from his bed and put it on his lap. It was kind of cute that he didn't want me to see that he was hard! The video was still playing on his computer screen.

Pretending not to notice his action, I stood next to his chair and looked at the monitor.

He said, "Ah...I'm-"

"-Is this the kind of adult video you normally like?" I asked, sounding as professional as I could. I turned and looked at him.

He licked his dry lips and said, "Uh, I guess."

I said, "It's like those fashion model pictures, in a way. These people are paid not to look or act like ordinary people. Those two women: they've each had boob jobs and one of them has had a tummy-tuck. Look at their makeup, too. Those two men: one of them has obviously had liposuction. They both wax their bodies: chests, legs, and arms, and probably one or two uncomfortable spots."

Terrison was looking at me like I'd sprouted a third arm. I ignored his shock. "Can you do a search for 'amateur milf,' sugar?" I asked.

Wordlessly, Terrison did as I'd asked. The first 20 results popped up in thumbnail form.

"A lot of these 'amateurs' clearly aren't!" I put a friendly hand on Terrison's shoulder. "Let's see, though...There. Third row down, all the way on the right. That looks like a real woman and a real man. Do me a favor and click on that."

"Okay," he said, voice faltering slightly.

We watched the first three minutes or so of the video together. The woman got on her knees in front of the guy, opened his pants, and started sucking his dick. Then the guy helped her to her feet and pulled off her shirt. She unhooked her bra and dropped it to the carpet.

"Yes," I said, as we watched the pair undress completely. "These two people are pretty much like common people. The guy looks nice-and natural, except for shaving or waxing some of his body hair. What do you think; is that woman attractive?"

"Yeah," said my young guest.

"Her waist has to be 27 inches-maybe 29 or 30. The man's is 32-34, or as much as 36. But they look good. They look like they're leading healthy lives. And as you can see, they're not having trouble finding dates just because they don't look like supermodels!"

The trust was building. Terrison looked squarely at me. "You don't mind that I'm looking at this?" he asked.

"You're an adult, sugar: a really young one, but you're an adult man. You watch what you want to, as long as it's legal."

"Thanks." But even though I backed away and left his room, he still turned off the video and left the site. People's mindsets don't change in five seconds.

*X*X*

The next morning, as soon as I woke, I rushed to the bathroom, doffed my sleeping gown and panties, turned on the shower, got into the water, and began diddling my joy-buzzer. I'd had lots of dreams, dreams of hot sex, dreams of cocks and pussies and asses and tits. While I flicked my clit, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feelings.

Was this because I'd seen Terrison's penis? It had been a couple of years since I'd seen one. I hadn't touched or ridden one since a couple of years before that, not too long before Gregor had had his fatal aneurysm. Now that my libido had come out of hibernation, I wondered if I could-or should-let it go back to sleep, or see if I could find romance again.

Some of these thoughts had been born of Terrison living in my condo. Sure I'd seen his cock, but what was really stirring me was his youth, his energy, his willingness to attack the future.

How much future I had left was certainly anyone's guess. But was I living to the fullest? It hadn't mattered to me for a while, but I was beginning to care about that again.

*X*X*

While Terrison and I ate lunch on Saturday, I told him my daughter was coming to visit me at about 4:00. "She hasn't seen you in years and she knows you're living here. She's forceful, too. If you'd rather not see her, I understand. But if that's the case, you should make yourself scarce by 3:30."

"I don't mind seeing her at all," said Terrison. "What's her name?"

"Mira," I said.

"What's her full name?" Terrison asked.

The young man displayed his quick mind, as he'd done plenty of times since he'd come to live with me. I'd hesitated for only a moment before answering, but that was enough for him to realize I hadn't told him the entire truth. "Her first name is Miracle, but I'd call her Mira if I were you," I said.

"You named her 'Miracle?' What for?"

"Because after a couple of years of trying to have a baby, Gregor and I went to see a specialist and that specialist said that my chances of getting pregnant were slim and my chances of carrying the child to term were infinitesimal. He said that if we wanted children, we should adopt.

"So we did. We adopted my precious Shauna when she was a newborn. And we thought she was the only child we'd ever have unless we adopted another.

"But only two months later, I did get pregnant.

"Well, during my second prenatal checkup, the doctor told me I'd better abort the pregnancy-or the baby and I were about sure to die."

"Whoa," Terrison said. "So why didn't you?"

"I told that doctor that we were in God's hands. If we were supposed to live, we would, but there was no damn way I was going to take away my baby's only chance. He asked me if I didn't mind leaving my husband alone, bereaved, with an infant to look after by himself. I told him Gregor was up to the challenge if it came to that."

Terrison and I stared at each other. "That's pretty incredible," he said. "And you and the baby did live and that's why you named her Miracle."

"Gregor named her that. The doctors had me in a coma and were fighting to save me from bleeding to death internally.

"I don't give up, Terrison. I don't think anyone should give up."

His hazel eyes were moist. "I see that," he said.

*X*X*

As though he'd been inspired, Terrison set himself to the task of competing in the 5k run. He came to me for advice and guidance practically every day. In a month, his voice sounded normal. To my eyes, he'd crossed from "skinny" to "slim" as well.

I wanted to hear his opinion. After I'd taken his picture for the third week, I set the photos side-by-side in front of him.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Is it bad if I say that I think I look good in all of them?" said Terrison.

I scooted a little closer to him on the sofa. "That's not bad at all. You are good-looking.

"But...let me ask you if you feel better today than you did when we took the first one."

"Yeah. I'm not tired all the time and it doesn't hurt to eat and drink some of the things that used to hurt me. And when I look at this last picture, I can see my muscles really well. I can still see my ribs, too. So I'm not fat." Terrison put his big left hand on my back. "Plus, you know, if Mom could cook like you, I would've started eating right a long time ago."

He and I both cracked up laughing.

I was relieved to hear his joke. He was here for a serious reason, but making light of it meant that he believed he had power over his disorder. He didn't have to take it as seriously anymore.

*X*X*

Before I knew it, the day before the race dawned, cool and a little foggy. Terrison and I stretched together and set off on our jog. It was shorter than usual, since the 5k was the very next morning.

After the run, we did a bit more stretching than we usually did. I showed my young pupil a few partner stretches too. During the stretch where we spread our legs, put the soles of our feet against our partner's, and pulled each other forward, I noticed Terrison looking down my shirt. Lately, he'd been dropping a step behind me whenever he had an excuse to do so. I'd seen him in a store window; he was checking out my ass. It was pretty flattering to get that kind of attention. I didn't let on that I'd noticed.

*X*X*

The morning of the 5 km race, I drove us to the start point: it was in one of our neighboring towns about eighteen miles away, in their main park, near the river's edge. We were two runners in a field of about 450. I told Terrison we would probably get separated, so we should meet by the car afterward.

"Terrison, you've never tried to race this far before. Just take it easy and finish. If you don't like your time, don't worry; there will be another 5k in a month. You'll do great if you relax," I said.

"You sound as though you don't plan to take it easy on me," said Terrison.

"Did I mention I won my age category last year? No, I won't take it easy on you. But I will wish you the best!"

*X*X*

I finished in 22:19. That was my best time in three years. I began stretching a little as I walked toward the scorers' tent to report my finish and wait for Terrison.

He caught up to me in mere moments. His time had been 22:43. He sounded a little disappointed, but he was grinning; he'd accomplished something he couldn't have done a month earlier.

The town's sports reporter gave me a quick eight-question interview, since I'd won my age group again. They wanted to take my picture, so I put my arm around Terrison's waist and posed. He put his arm around my shoulders and went with it.

Then we sat on the grass and did our cool-down stretching routine and got back into the car.

*X*X*

Terrison surprised me by taking my hand and walking from the garage to the condo with me. Once we got inside, he squeezed my hand a little and said, "You just killed it out there today. I never...I never knew people like you existed."

"You did great yourself, sugar. You're so alive and so intense. It's amazing how quickly you learn. I'm proud to be with you," I told him. I leaned in for a quick hug with this tall young man.

He hugged me back. But even though I let go of him after a few seconds, he kept holding me.

"Sugar, we ought to shower," I said, feeling a little embarrassed and a little excited.

He cupped my backside and hoisted me into the air.

No way this was happening! No way he really wanted me like this! I let out some kind of squawking sound. Now he and I were level with each other, studying each other's eyes. And we kissed.

When he put me back down, I started undressing, right there in the living room. He watched me for a while, then he decided he should get out of his clothes.

"You look wonderful to me," I said softly.

"You look beautiful, Janice," he said.

I playfully set my hand on his chest and trailed my fingers along his torso. I lightly grasped his hardening penis-he smiled widely at that-and led him toward my bedroom.

For a moment, we sat on the edge of the bed and hugged. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked him.

"Don't you want to?" he asked.

"I do very much. But do you?"

"Yes, yes, I do. Ever since the day I moved here, I was interested in you. The feeling's just built since then; what you say, how you look at me, the way you've been touching me more often and dressing skimpier for our runs to motivate me..."

(What! Had I been doing that? That must have been his imagination. I wasn't getting handsy. I surely wasn't dressing sexier for him!

...Was I?)

He kissed me again and I responded with energy. Again and again, I tasted his lips. I ran my hands to his chest, to his abdomen, down to his groin. He quickly touched me in return, gently fondling and tugging my B-cup breasts, caressing my wide hips, moving slowly to my shaved pubic region. My body hummed with excitement.

"Wait a second," I said, probably mumbling a bit into his mouth. I went to my bedside table and got a little bottle of lubricant. (I don't get as wet as I did before menopause, but I've learned to make the best of it.) I squirted a largish dollop of the fragrant lube on Terrison's hand and quivered when he began to work it into the sensitive skin of my labia. While he was busy with that, I got a little more and rubbed it on his cock. The youth's warm, blood-filled penis was hard as a steel rail by this time.

I looked at Terrison's face. His eyes were closed while he enjoyed the sensation of my fingers stroking his dick.

"Let me ride you," I said into his ear. I pushed him and he collapsed onto his back.

Putting my knees on either side of his ribs, I held his firm shaft and coaxed my tight pussy into accepting the throbbing head. An inch at a time, I lowered myself, hissing at the strained pleasure-pain of the entry. I heard Terrison suck in his breath also. I glanced down and saw his mouth set in a happy grimace, his eyelids squeezed shut. Adorable! This had to be his first time.

I started rocking my hips, then "hopping" using my thighs. My short bounces got higher and higher while my happy pussy broke its fast and swallowed the young man's cock over and over. I took one of Terrison's hands and brought it to my chest. He got the idea; his fingers and palms started kneading my sensitive tits immediately.

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes. That's so good," he said. I quietly chuckled and picked up my pace.

"You're making me feel great too, sugar," I said. I settled my hands over his hip bones to help maintain my rhythm. Terrison was definitely full-grown; his big, slippery cock felt very satisfying as it rubbed eagerly along the walls of my ecstatic twat. Every time my ass slapped onto Terrison's pelvis, a jolt of pleasure rushed through my clitoris.

My hands slid higher, to just under the hazel-eyed hunk's ribs. The angle of my pelvis changed to stimulate us both more. I worked my thighs and glutes harder and harder, picking up the pace.

I was about to make it to "full gallop" when Terrison said, "Janice...I'm gonna...cum if you...don't slow down!"

"You won't get me pregnant," I said, my voice sounding a little like a purr to my ears. Most men love to hear their partners describe the action for them, so I kept speaking a bit longer. "Ooh...so go on and fill me up with your hot, gooey sperm. Oh! Come inside me, sugar. Ooh, yeah...thrust that enormous cock deep inside me...enjoy yourself...!"

He hadn't been exaggerating. The short, rapid motions of his pelvis stopped suddenly. His hands locked onto my hips. Burying every millimeter of his solid, virgin cock in my clenching, slick pussy, he shot his load. I didn't get a real orgasm, but I had several pleasurable little peaks. How good would this young man be with a little more stamina and experience? As it was, the sex was great!

His gaze seemed fixed to my pussy as I straightened my spine and pushed myself off him, letting a thick stream of spunk drip from my open lips and slide down his sloppy shaft. He looked almost dazed, awed by the experience.

I moved forward, then I laid my body atop his and kissed him lovingly. For several minutes, we simply cuddled and kissed and reveled in the afterglow of the joining of our bodies.

Finally, I got up and held out my hand to him. "Let's get that shower, you sexy man," I said, coaxing him into action.

*X*X*

While we were in the shower (it was one of the types that's disabled accessible, so it could easily fit two people) I drew Terrison into a conversation about what we'd done. "How do you feel about us?" I asked the youth while he washed my hair and back.