Lying About My Age Ch. 02

This story is a fantasy based very loosely on actual events and real people. As always, any similarities to any persons, places, or things, or anything you have heard before is a complete accident.

*****

I lay in bed the next morning, thinking I was going to die.

I mean, it could happen, right? I was 40 years old. If it was 200-300 years ago, I would have already outlived my life expectancy. My mother's father died at 40 of a heart attack. I just had a checkup and I was given a clean bill of health, but that didn't matter. It didn't have to be from anything obvious. There could be a number of things wrong with me that a doctor would never be able to detect if they weren't specifically looking for it. An aneurism, or something like that. Maybe my episode of impotence the night before was an early warning sign of some sort of disease that would eventually kill me.

I called out sick to work. That in itself was noteworthy. I never called out sick to work. I was always the guy who came to work so sick that my co-workers would beg me to go home before I infected the whole office. I was the guy that was always taking off half of December because he had to use up his PTO by the end of the year. Even when I was going through my marital issues and my divorce, I never missed a day of work unless it was to go to court, or engage in the antagonistic, unproductive meetings between my ex and our lawyers. Work was my solace from all of that in those dark days.

I was never a person to lie in bed and do nothing all day. If I was going to stay in bed, it was probably for a sexual reason, either alone or with someone else. I thought that maybe I should try to get an erection, but I was terrified that it wouldn't work again, so I avoided anything sexual. I watched the baseball highlight show on MLB Network for hours, the same hour-long show over and over again, eventually turning over to the network game shows later in the morning. When I was too hungry to stand it anymore I got out of bed and ate the sandwiches and snacks I would've brought for lunch that day. After that I just sort of wandered around my apartment, feeling old.

I mean, was this it? Was this life? I never thought I was a shallow person, but I always avoided those types of questions. It was probably how I ended up in such a shitty situation in the first place, I thought to myself. Not thinking about my future and where I wanted to end up. So here I was, 40 and divorced with no children, stuck in a dead end job in a one bedroom apartment, and I had no real hope that anything would get any better.

My mind finally drifted to what I had been avoiding up until then. Jamie. I could see her in my mind's eye, those auburn locks, those dark brown eyes, moving in to kiss me, but I froze. What was crazier, pushing away a 25 year old woman who wanted me or thinking that being with a woman 15 years younger than me was a good idea? Sure, I led her to believe that I was her age, and if she knew my true age she probably would not have been interested. I blew it though. I blew it completely. I wondered if Jamie ever wanted to see me again.

I settled into my recliner in the afternoon, watching mindless television and trying to avoid the dark, depressing thoughts I had been mired in all day. I ate a frozen dinner and plopped back into my recliner, waiting patiently for the day to end.

When the knock on my door came I was so startled I jumped. It couldn't be Jamie, could it? I thought to myself as I moved to the door. I looked through the peephole and sure enough it was Jamie out there. I had an odd feeling in my gut. Do I let her in? Maybe it was better if I didn't, if I acted like a complete asshole and pushed her away. She could go find someone her own age, like that tattooed muscle head with the backwards hat in the laundry room. Sure he had a girlfriend, but guys like him were easy to find. Bars were full of them.

While I was standing there deliberating, Jamie knocked again. "Rich," she said, "Open up. I can hear your television." Busted, I thought. It's only fair that she could hear into my apartment too. I couldn't pretend that I simply wasn't there. I took a deep breath, and then I opened the door. Jamie was standing there, dressed in light blue scrubs. She must have come straight from work. She gave a little start when she saw me. I must have been quite a sight. I didn't shower or shave that morning. My short brown hair must have been a mess, my t-shirt and shorts disheveled. "Are you okay?" She asked. "Are you sick?"

"I didn't feel good," I mumbled, "I called out sick."

"Oh," Jamie said, "I can come back another time..."

"No," I said forcefully, surprising both of us. "I'm fine now. You can come in." I pulled the door completely open and moved out the way.

Jamie looked skeptical, but she walked past me and into my apartment. "I like what you've done with the place," she said dryly. Unlike Jamie's fully furnished apartment, mine was Spartan, at best. My living room only contained my recliner and the flat screen TV I sprung for, sitting on the cheapest stand that would hold it. I had a rickety second-hand kitchen table and chairs. There were no pictures on the wall, or any tables or shelves full of trinkets, no nothing.

"Well, sit down," I said to her, gesturing to my recliner. I moved the few steps to the kitchen area and pulled one of the chairs over beside the recliner. Jamie perched uneasily at the edge of my recliner, and I guessed that she had something short and dismissive to say, and then she would be gone. Let her get it over with, I thought to myself, and then I could go back to wallowing in my misery.

"About last night..." Jamie said, and I braced myself. Here it comes, I thought, and then I wondered why I was bracing myself. I was the one who pushed her away, and now I didn't want to hear her rejecting me? "I just wanted to apologize again," Jamie said. "I should have known that a guy like you wouldn't be interested in a girl like me."

Wait, what? I thought to myself. That line was unexpected, and I found myself asking the question before I could even think about it. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you," Jamie said, "Tall, dark, handsome, funny. You have your shit together. I'm short and fat and I..." she trailed off.

"You thought it was because I wasn't attracted to you?" I asked incredulously. "You're not tall or thin," I said before I could think better of it, "But you're not ugly." I almost added 'you're young', but I held back.

"Then you know, don't you," Jamie said. "God!" She wailed. "I thought a guy that didn't grow up around here wouldn't know..."

"Know what?" I asked.

Jamie stared at me. "You really don't know, do you?" She asked.

"No. What?" I asked again.

Jamie's shoulders slumped, and she looked down to the floor. She was wringing her hands. "Back in high school," she said, "I had a moment of indiscretion. There was this guy; well he was the captain of the football team. And he got my number from somewhere, and he started texting me. I was thinking, wow, the captain of the football team is interested in me? I was so naïve. After a while it got, you know, sexual. Eventually he talked me into sending him a naked photo of myself. And then... he shared it with the whole school."

"Wow." I mumbled. It was all I could say.

Jamie was still staring at the floor. I could only imagine the strength it took to even tell somebody about it. "It was all a joke to him, to his friends. Not so much to his girlfriend at the time, who cornered me after school one day with all of her friends. I thought I was going to die. They called me all sorts of names, slut, whore, tramp. It was the must humiliating experience you could imagine. This was eight years ago, before there were even words like sexting and slut shaming, before cyber bullying became a thing. I don't know how I got singled out by that guy. I wasn't one of the 'cool kids', but I wasn't exactly an outcast either. My family and friends were supportive, and I suppose that's how I made it through when some other girls... didn't. I should've moved far away as soon as I had the chance, but I didn't. I didn't want to leave my family. My only real boyfriend was in college and he was from the other side of the country and never knew anything about it. Most people are cool with it now. It's the girls, really. They're the ones that are nice to my face and talk about me behind my back. Most of my friends are male, except for Sue. And that's it. That's my story."

I was speechless. What do you say to someone after a story like that? You poor thing? No, that wasn't a good response. I didn't think any less of her. She was young. We all make mistakes. Yeah, that was good, I thought. Go with that. "You were young," I said, "We all make mistakes."

"You're sweet," Jamie said, "You know, there are mistakes, and then there's holy shit you fucked up your life for good types of mistakes that you'll never live down. Maybe I should just leave here. Just move somewhere new and start fresh where nobody would ever know what happened."

My heart went out to Jamie, but what do I do? Do I go over and comfort her? Her body language was telling me to stay away. I felt compelled to share with her. "I've been hiding something too," I eventually said.

Jamie turned to look at me. There were tears in her eyes. "What?"

How do I explain myself? "I may have led you to believe that I'm younger than I really am," I said.

"Oh yeah," Jamie said, "You're what, thirty?"

"Older than that," I said.

"Thirty-one?" Jamie asked. I shook my head. "Thirty-three?" Jamie asked. I shook my head again. "Thirty-five?" She asked a little more loudly. I shook my head again. "Holy fuck," Jamie finally said. "How old are you?"

"I umm... I just turned forty," I said.

Jamie laughed. "You're full of shit. No way," she said. "Are you serious? You look like you're twenty-five! What's your secret?"

"I have no idea," I said. "Good genes? I don't really take care of myself. I've just always looked young, even though I've been through hell lately."

"Yeah, how'd you end up... here? If you don't mind my asking," Jamie said.

"Well, after my divorce..."

"Holy shit, you're divorced?" Jamie shouted over me. "Do you have any kids?"

"No, no kids," I said quickly, "After my divorce, I was broke. This was all I could afford."

"Wow," Jamie said, "I mean, I saw a few gray hairs, but I figured you were just prematurely gray. Turns out you're right on target huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I said.

"Wow, so you were in what, high school when I was born?" Jamie asked, and giggled. I just stared at her. "So now we know each other's secrets," Jamie said. "Friends?"

I was thinking that she didn't know all of my secrets, like what I could hear her doing through our shared wall. The poor girl, I thought to myself, after what she had gone through, to have some middle-aged creep listening to her masturbate through a wall? I felt like I had to tell her. "There's one other secret that I have to tell you," I said slowly.

"Oh my God, what?" Jamie said. "You're not really fifty, are you?"

"No, no," I said, and I took a deep breath. "Umm... a few times... late at night... I could hear you... by complete accident... through the wall..." I gestured to my living room wall, "And you were... while you were..." I trailed off.

Jamie's eyes were wide, staring at the wall. I braced myself. She was going to freak out, I thought. "Oh my God!" She shrieked. "I'm so sorry! How thin are these fucking walls? You heard me while I was... that must have been so uncomfortable for you!"

Yeah, it made me uncomfortable, I thought to myself, and on cue I felt a familiar tingling in my groin. I was starting to grow hard! I momentarily forgot all about the situation, just feeling grateful that I was getting an erection again. I know, I was impotent for what, a day? It was still scary. I squirmed in my seat, my erection filling my shorts and making me uncomfortable. I eventually realized I needed to say something to Jamie. "It wasn't so bad, really," I said, "It was kind of... well..."

"You enjoyed it, didn't you?" Jamie asked, and a sly grin came over her face. I was shocked to realize that she didn't feel victimized. She wasn't angry. If anything, she was amused. "How much did you enjoy it?" She asked.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Not only wasn't Jamie freaked out or angry that I was listening to her masturbate through the wall, now she was turning it around on me. I could feel myself blushing. "Oh... umm..." I stammered.

"Did you get hard?" Jamie asked. "Did you... did you touch yourself too?"

I felt my mouth go dry. All I could do was nod my head.

Jamie smiled, and slid off of the recliner. I waited for her to move toward me, but she stayed in place. "I'm making you uncomfortable," she said. "I always say what's on my mind." She paused, and I got the sense that she was waiting for me to say something, but I was still speechless, staring at her. "I'm not ashamed," she continued, "And you shouldn't be either. It's perfectly normal." She paused again. "Well, I'd better go. We'll talk again, soon?" She said, indicating our shared wall with a nod of her head. She was basically inviting me to listen to her. I gaped at her as she moved toward the door and left my apartment, closing the door behind her.

I sat there frozen for a while, thinking about what had just happened. Jamie basically invited me to listen to her masturbate. I could feel my erection tingling in my shorts. I felt butterflies in my stomach. It was one thing when she didn't know I was there, but now that she knew, could I really stand there and listen to her? How weird was it going to be?

I eventually got up and moved to my recliner, turning the TV back on and moving back into my normal evening routine of watching baseball until I fell asleep. I couldn't stop thinking about Jamie though. She was right next door. What was she doing? Despite having done nothing all day long except lie around and feel sorry for myself, I started to feel sleepy, and fell into a stupor.

I was startled when the knock came. I thought for a moment that someone was at the door. What time was it, I thought groggily, glancing at the time on the cable box. It was only a little after 9pm. Was I sleeping? Then I heard knocking again. It wasn't coming from the door; it was coming from the wall. Startled awake, I jumped out of my chair and over to the wall. "Jamie?" I asked tentatively. No response. "Jamie?" I said a little louder.

"Rich?" I heard Jamie reply. "Can you hear me?"

"I can hear you," I said.

"Hey," she said. "So, you can hear me through the wall," she added matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," I said.

"I'm not going to beat around the bush," Jamie said, "I've always had this fantasy of having... an audience. Of being watched, or in this case, listened to. After what I went through I thought I was never going to trust anyone again. I don't know why, but I trust you." After another pause, she added. "I like the fact that you are on the other side of the wall."

I felt moved by what she said. "I promise I won't tell anyone about this. So, what do I do?" I found myself asking, and felt silly.

"You don't have to do anything," Jamie said. "Just be there." I heard a rustling sound. "Make yourself comfortable." There was another pause, and I felt self-conscious, like I should've been saying something, but I didn't know what. "After I left your apartment," Jamie eventually continued, "I had dinner, took a long, hot shower, and now I'm in my jammies," Jamie giggled. "My soft cotton jammies. I love how they feel against my skin. The way the top brushes against my breasts when I move. It makes my nipples tingle. Do you like big breasts Rich?"

I was so focused on trying to picture her; I almost didn't hear her question. I was hard as a rock already, absent-mindedly touching myself outside of my shorts. "Yeah," I mumbled, and then quickly said "Yeah," again a little louder to make sure she could hear me. I couldn't believe this was happening. I was basically having some kind of phone sex through the wall.

"Mmm... I like my big breasts," Jamie was saying, "When I don't have to lug them around. Do you want to know what I'm doing right now?"

"Yes," I said.

"I'm brushing my nipples with my fingers," Jamie said. "It feels so good. My nipples are getting hard. It's sending tingles through my whole body. I'm unbuttoning my top now," Jamie said. "Just the top two buttons, so that I can reach my tits under my shirt. I like to leave my clothes half-undone. It makes me feel naughtier." I heard Jamie moan. "I have the ceiling fan on in the bedroom," Jamie said, "And it's blowing cool air on my hard nipples. It feels so good. It almost feels like someone is sucking on them. Are you still there Rich?"

"Yeah," I said. I had a firmer grip on myself, rubbing my erection through my shorts. I felt like I should have said something to her, but I couldn't think of anything more than 'I'm touching myself' and it sounded silly to me.

"Good," Jamie said. "I'm sliding my hand down my belly now. I know I'm not thin, but I like feeling my soft belly. I think women should be soft. What do you think Rich?"

"I like soft women," I said. The truth was that Jamie was a little heavier than I typically like women to be, but I would've said just about anything to keep this going.

"What about pubic hair?" Jamie asked. "Do you like women neatly trimmed or completely shaved... or do you like it hairy?" I could hear her giggling.

"I don't really have a preference," I heard myself saying. I didn't. The less hair, the better, I thought, but I didn't want to get opinionated and say the wrong thing.

"Liar," Jamie said teasingly. "Well, I'm completely shaved. In fact I just shaved now in the shower. I love shaving myself, lathering myself, feeling my smooth pussy. It makes me so horny." I heard Jamie gasp. "I just touched my pussy," she said, "Slid my fingers through my pussy lips and brushed my clit. It feels so good."

"I love watching myself," Jamie continued, "Watching my fingers move under my pajama bottoms. I'm so wet. I love tasting myself." There was a pause, and I could imagine Jamie bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them. I heard her moan, "Tastes so good," she said. "I have a full length mirror in my bedroom, and sometimes I'll stand in front of the mirror and play with myself, but getting off is so much easier lying down."

There was another pause, and I heard the bedsprings creak. "I just pulled my bottoms over my hips," Jamie said. "Ooh, I just felt a breeze against my clit. It feels so good. I'm pulling my pussy lips apart with my fingers, letting my clit feel the air. Ahhh," she said theatrically, and then giggled. "What about you Rich? Are you still... dressed?"

I gulped, and looked down at myself. My shorts were still on, my erection outlined in my shorts. Part of me felt silly, but I also thought that I should reciprocate in some way. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and underwear and pulled them down, my 7 inch erection popping free. "I just pulled my shorts down," I said through the wall.

Jamie was silent for a few seconds, and then she asked, "Are you hard?"

"Yes," I replied.

"How..." Jamie started to say, and then stopped. I wondered what was going on over there. "How big are you?"

I looked down at myself. I wasn't huge, but nobody ever complained. At least, nobody ever complained to my face. "Seven inches," I said.

I heard Jamie moan. "That's the size of all of my toys," Jamie said, "But I'll bet your dick doesn't vibrate." I could hear Jamie laughing now, and I found myself chuckling too. It was good that she didn't have a 12 inch dildo, and would look at me and think 'is that all you got?' "Are you touching it?" Jamie asked.