Young Woman with Older Man Ch. 01

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Meeting Lynn, while walking my dog through the dog park.
3.7k words
4.12
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Part 1 of the 22 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 07/24/2012
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Meeting Lynn, while walking my dog through the dog park.

She stopped me in my tracks when she suddenly appeared from behind some shrubbery with her South African puppy, Seymour, a Rhodesian Ridgeback. He had spotted my dog, Polo, and ran out to play chase. My dog is the chase champion, only he likes to be chased and not chase other dogs. The fastest dog at the dog park, no dog can catch him. I should have named him Flash or Zip in the way that he can run, jump, leap, and zigzag away from any dog at will.

I watched her dog interact with mine. He was so young, so clumsy, and so funny in his play. His big paws too big for the size of him made him look as if he wore oversized shoes that caused him to trip and stumble. So terribly uncoordinated, he was as laughable as she was beautiful. Then, I looked at her, again, so young, so self-confident, and so self-assured. In a word, a true beauty, mesmerizing is how I'd describe her.

Who is this woman and where has she been all my life? The thought that I was so very much older than she was and that she hadn't been born yet, when I was searching for my one and only, filled me with sadness, guilt, and shame. Easily, I was twice her age. Suddenly, I felt lecherous and foolish. If I were her dad, I'd be warning her about guys like me, just as I had warned my daughters about older men being after only one thing. Yet, there I was lusting after this, oh, so young, beautiful woman. Without me realizing it, I had become one of those guys.

"He's too old for you, Honey," I imagined her father talking about me, when she brought me home to dinner to meet her parents, as if I was some young grad student. "Don't throw your life away over him. Find someone your own age. If you were to have children with this guy, he'll be old enough to be their grandfather when they are still in high school. Besides, he's only after one thing."

"Only after one thing..."

Of course, the dialogue that I imagined her father having with her over me is the same dialogue that I had with my own daughters. His thumbnail assessment of me would have been correct, only, love at first sight, I wanted more than sex from her. I wanted everything. I wanted the stars and the moon. Until death do us part, I wanted to love her forever.

Sex screamed through my mind. Yes, I want to fuck her. Yes, I want to do dirty, nasty things to her shapely body and to her beautiful mouth. Yes, I want her. All of this went through my mind in the first few seconds of meeting her. Never have I been as taken with a woman, have seen a woman so beautiful, and have wanted any woman as much.

When I looked at her, she made me feel so sensuously soft and fuzzy warm inside like the feeling I get from my first bite of rich, dark chocolate or from that first kiss after a romantic evening or when seeing someone as enchanting as was she. The thought of making love to her was a deliciously decadent thought that I enjoyed savoring for as long as I could because I knew that it would never happen. I knew that she would never be interested in a man like me, a man who was twice her age.

Normally, someone like her would make me feel old and foolish. Yet, the moment that I saw her, she made me forget my past and yearn for a future with her in it. If only I was rich, I'd make her mine by tempting her with my wealth and money. If only I was younger, I'd entice her with my good looks and hard body. If only I was powerful and influential, maybe, she'd want me then. If only she was mine for one night, I'd cherish the memory of her for when I'm older and no longer of a mind to entertain such sexual thoughts of a wild and crazy fantasy of having an intimate, sexual relationship with her.

With a complexion so fair and so healthy, she looked brand new. I bet she smelled new, too. I saw her in the way that I'd see my new, shiny car for the first time. She's a real beauty with great lines. Can I touch her? Can I take her for a spin? How fast will she go? What will she do in the corners? She has that new woman smell. I can't wait to take her for a long drive to the beach, to the mountains, and to go parking at some romantic spot overlooking the ocean.

With her dark hair so shiny and her hazel eyes so bright, the contrast of the two made her look catlike in appearance, dark brown hair almost black with green-blue eyes that tore through my skin, as if a laser to my heart. She moved with the sexuality of a woman who knows that she has a hot body, but that doesn't need to show it; she has no reason to prove anything to the world. She had class. With that, I knew she was modest and private, and I liked that about her. It's funny the things that I imagine, when reading into a person and finding out later how right or how wrong I was in my instant, thumbnail assessment of her.

We connected so immediately and so easily that I felt that I knew her already and that we were already friends. Much in the way of watching a favorite movie over and again, every time I looked at her, I noticed something else about her that I had missed before, something that made me want her even more. Her beauty stole my conscious thought and it was not until I walked beside her for some distance that I noticed that she was tall, 5'8" and had quite the figure beneath her loose fitting dress.

I had to pry my eyes and forcibly turn my head away, so that I wouldn't be caught staring at her beauty. I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable in my presence and for her to think me rude, lewd, or just another horny, old guy lusting over her outside appearance without taking the time to learn more about her and who she is inside. Instead, I decided to play it cool, so that she'd enjoy our time together, remain in my company longer, and hopefully, walk with me a bit more, at least, until we were standing at the end of the earth together.

My ulterior motives worked because she walked with me the entire time that I was at the dog park. I so wanted to endear myself to her, but I had so little time to do that. To me and my imagined hope, her time with me almost felt like a date and I imagined that we were a couple taking a stroll together, after having a sumptuous meal, before heading off to bed to have wild sex. That warm thought, and with her by my side, lifted my spirit made me feel young and vital, again, something I thought would never happen to me, after my divorce.

In this world of people, those who take little pride in their appearance, she was a shining star. Without doubt, being genetically perfect and looking like the woman that every man could lust over, love, and live with for the rest of their lives, she already had a head start. Still, so many women even don't put a brush through their hair or some gloss on their lips, when heading off to the dog park with their dogs. Embarrassed to say, some dogs look better than their female owners. Do they feel that because they're in a relationship that they no longer have to look appealing anymore? Do they feel that just because they're walking the trail in a dog park that no one will see them? Or do they just not care anymore and have given up on themselves?

There she was at the dog park wearing a smart dress that she could have worn to a restaurant. Her hair, clean and neatly tied back, displayed a feminine hairclip. With her hair pulled back like that, the effect highlighted her cheek bones that gave her an elegant look. She wore makeup, a rarity to see women wearing makeup at the dog park, the mall, or the supermarket these days. Everyone is so casual, too casual in appearance with blue jeans, wrinkled t-shirt or sweatshirt, and dirty, white sneakers being the uniform of the day. She was stunning. When compared to the other women at the dog park, she looked like a Goddess that had magically appeared on Earth just for me, I imagined, and just for me, so I hoped. That was the first time that I met Lynn.

Over the next few months, I saw her occasionally and, always, she looked as beautiful as she did the first time I met her. I tried planning my day accordingly, being at the park the same time that I saw her there last, hoping to catch her again and always, so as not to embarrass myself or have her think me a stalker, I tried to make our chance meetings appear accidental. When, after a time, I didn't accidentally on purpose see her, I started haunting the place and taking my dog there multiple times a day, until it was ridiculous with people asking me if I lived at the dog park. Besides my dog was getting too thin and muscular from all the exercise and I was getting too preoccupied with the thoughts of hoping to see her again.

In the back of my mind, I hoped that she believed in fate and would pick up on the serendipitous circumstance of my preplanned, coincidental encounters. In the back of my mind, I hoped she found me as appealing as I found her. I hoped that she was single and without a boyfriend. Of course, I was crazy to think that someone, who looked like her would be without a man. Moreover, I was deluding myself in thinking she'd be interested in someone as old as me. Without doubt, I was too old for her. Without doubt, she was too young for me. Oh, God, perish the thought and erase the image of her licking a pussy from my mind, but I hope she's not lesbian.

"I don't come here as often as I would like," she said when I finally saw her again, after a long absence. I was so happy to finally see her. Whenever I walked with her, instead of lumbering along, I had a spring to my step and a big, dumb smile on my face. "My dog loves the park and I love the exercise of walking within the beautiful scenery. I wish I could take him here every day but..." she paused to give me a sad smile with her face suddenly becoming troubled. "I don't always have the time to take him," she said in a softer voice that was suddenly distant. It was obvious that she was hiding something.

I come here too much in the hopes of seeing you again; I wanted to admit to her but did not dare. She made me want to get down on my knee and declare my love for her. Suddenly, I felt foolish, desperate, and pathetic. I don't even know her and to think that I have fallen in love with her was preposterous. Definitely, I need therapy. Love at first sight; who believes in that anymore? Yet, love is the only thing that could and can transgress age. Right? Maybe no, maybe yes, if only, I wished, oh, God...

She gave me a glimmer of hope every time she looked at me and smiled, as if I was her wicked older boyfriend. She smiled at me. She actually smiled at me. That's good right? Moreover, I made her laugh with my dry, sometimes blackly sardonic sense of humor. Over their head, most people don't get my humor, but she thinks that I'm funny. That's okay. I'll play the fool for her, if she'll stay with me a little longer and if she'll seek me out again to walk with me through the park.

I love it when she pays me the attention worthy of her smile. I love it when she laughs. She has such a musical laugh, a laugh that makes me laugh with her. I so enjoy her happiness that I bask in her joy. She makes my day whenever I see her, again.

If she wasn't beautiful enough before, when she smiles, she becomes even more beautiful. Her smile made me hunger for her and want her even more. Don't stare. Don't stare at her; I had to keep thinking to myself, so that I wouldn't make a complete ass of myself. Play it cool. Stay calm. Relax, don't say anything stupid and whatever you do, don't stare at her.

To my favor, whenever she saw me, she'd wave and come running over to me. She made me feel special when she did that. Suddenly, I was launched back to one of those old Irish Spring soap commercials, where the two lovers run toward one another, through the heather, to embrace in a tender kiss.

I loved watching her run, while watching her generous breasts bounce up and down and side to side. She has a rack, not overly big and not too small, probably a small C cup, but nice shapely breasts that I dream about every night, when I'm alone with her in my thoughts and lonely. I imagined her running towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and pressing her lips against mine in a long, wet kiss. I can almost feel her tongue against mine. I can almost feel her body pressed against mine. Only, it wasn't me who she wanted to see. Unfortunately, it was my dog. She loves my dog. She made me wish that I was him.

"He's the cutest thing, ever," she said, scooping him up off the ground to give him a big hug and a kiss on his head. "Polo, I love you. You're so sweet. Do you want to come home with me?"

Yes, I nearly involuntarily said, while wishing I could lick her face in the way that my dog was licking her. Who said dogs are dumb? My dog was wicked smart to be as attracted to her as I was. I so wished that I was a dog, a dog my parents had named me Polo, so that she'd think me cute, too, and scoop me up in her arms. There I was jealous over the attention and affection that my dog received from her. Watching him lick her face made me want to lick her everywhere.

I loved the sound of her voice, soft and feminine without being high pitched and too girlish. I couldn't imagine her nagging me in that voice, yet, if she did, I wouldn't care just to hear her talk. And she was smart, too, a college graduate working towards her master's degree in special education. I couldn't help but wonder, what's wrong with her? Surely, she has some fault, perhaps a hangnail or a crooked toe. No one can be this perfect.

She loved my dog because with all the running through the fields and frolicking down by the water, my dog wore out her dog. It's a rare dog that can wear out the lion hunter, a Rhodesian Ridgeback, but her dog was no match for the speed, agility, and endurance of my long legged Rat Terrier.

Polo is the new breed of Rat Terrier. Instead of breeding a Manchester Terrier, a Beagle, and a Fox Terrier, the new breed of Rat Terrier uses the Manchester Terrier, a Whippet, and the Italian Greyhound. Polo has the elegant poise and grace of the Manchester Terrier with the long legged speed and endurance of a Whippet and the narrow bodied agility of the Italian Greyhound. The closest dog to a mutt, but a short haired, non-allergic, pedigree without having all the health issues of a purebred, he's a wonderful dog and a great companion, even with children.

I'd walk with Lynn the distance of the three mile loop that was the dog park, sometimes, going twice around whenever the time and energy allowed. She made me wish that I was 25 years younger. Still, the difference in our ages didn't stop me from being her friend and from taking her away with me in my dreams that night or whenever I was alone and lonely. The essence of her always stayed with me, her smell, her smile, and her bright, hazel eyes. She was always with me in my thoughts, until I saw her again. Every time I saw her, she excited me as if it was the first time meeting her.

She made me recall the book by Milan Kundera, 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being'. Suddenly, I felt as if I was the main character, Tomas, rejecting Frederich Nietzsche's doctrine of eternal reoccurrence and his argument that in a world of objective meaningless, one must fall into nihilism unless one's acts recurs eternally, giving us a lightness of weight throughout eternity and, in effect, living forever. Who wants to live forever? Yet, if I could live forever with Lynn, I would.

My life, before meeting Lynn, was nihilistic in a way. With the onset of age and the state of the world with war, poverty, and despair, I began to believe that nothing is worthwhile and that life is pointless and human values are worthless. Now, suddenly, after meeting Lynn and imagining the possibilities that there is someone out there for me, who looks like her, fantasizing about her being part of my life, I felt a sudden lightness of being with hope for a new beginning and with her by my side in eternal happiness. I found love. Of course, for me, love is the lightness of being. Of course, I was just dreaming and being the foolish old man that I am.

Certainly, I'm no literary scholar, but the beauty about reading a good book or any book is that I take away with me, whatever meaning that fits my purpose and discard the rest. That's the beauty about being human; we're all so much alike, yet we're all so different in our thoughts and desires. Just as Tomas wanted a second chance at a new life with the woman that he loved by his side, I imagined Lynn was my second chance at reliving my life renewed.

Having made mistakes with my ex-wife gave me the experience not to make the same mistakes again with Lynn, only, the thought of her with me was such a heavy burden of supposition and a premature, preposterous proposition, at best, that it weighed me down with sadness, whenever I wasn't with her. I knew that being together as a couple with her would never happen, yet it was so very uplifting to imagine us together in love. Nonetheless, if the only time that I was to share with her was going for a walk with our dogs through the dog park, then so be it. At least for that hour, I was a happy man.

Still, desire haunted me and my lust for her tortured me. Realistically, why would she love me? I'm an old man compared to her. She'd certainly have emotional issues, a father complex, to fall in love with a man twice her age. Yet, if only she did, if only she could, and if only she would, I'd be so happy and I'd make her so happy.

Today, she looked a bit down, almost sad, only smiling when watching her dog interact with mine. She wasn't as talkative as she usually is, and I gave her more space without interrupting her thoughts with conversation. I didn't dare ask her what was wrong. I didn't know her well enough to intrude upon her private life and her troubled thoughts. Besides, I was happy just to be there with her. No doubt, I was a bit selfish in the fact that I didn't want to ruin my good time weighted down by the conversation of her bad thoughts. Yet, no matter, I wanted to offer her my shoulder. I wanted to offer her more than my friendship; I wanted to offer her my love. I wanted to reach down and take her hand in mine and walk away with her.

She was so very young. How old was she? I never asked her, but maybe, she was 25-years-old, half my age. Definitely, I'm old enough to know better and to know that she'd not be interested in a man like me, a man past his prime, and a man embittered by life and no longer carrying the torch of idealism. I was old enough to be her father.

Whenever she left me, after the brief time we were together, she made me feel old, vulnerable, and sad. Yet, when I was with her, when I was in her presence, I felt young, energetic, and alive. Her youth and zest for life rejuvenated me. She was my addictive elixir and my fountain of youth. Never has an hour gone by so quickly. Never has a walk through the woods of the dog park been so enjoyable, and dialogue between two people been so free, so easy, and so interesting.

"What's wrong?" I said finally, suddenly seizing upon the moment and feeling secure enough by the openness of our conversation in our quickly, growing friendship to ask what was troubling her.

"Oh, nothing," she said after a long, thoughtful pause, "just boyfriend troubles."

As soon as she said the word boyfriend, I was jealous. Suddenly, I pictured her naked and orgasmic in the throes of lustful sex, while in the arms of her young, hot boyfriend. The thought of his cock in her mouth and her blowing him angered me. I imagined him handsome, tall, and wealthy. Surely, a woman this desirable, this sexy, and this beautiful is most deserving of such a man as that. Suddenly, as if from out of nowhere, her boyfriend appeared before us.

To be continued...

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  • COMMENTS
9 Comments
Marklynda2Marklynda2over 1 year ago

Older man/younger woman with boyfriend problems, oh joy, one of my favorite scenarios!

Being an older man who at times (read most of the time) lusts after younger women, I find your opening chapter compelling and look forward to reading more. I've always enjoyed your writing and expect this story to be equally satisfying. Thank you for sharing your vision and talents.

JasonRTaylorJasonRTaylorabout 9 years ago
Intriguing

Definitely a lot of descriptive, longing thoughts. I will have to see where this leads :)

jott50jott50over 9 years ago

very good lead in...thank you for suggesting this series. im sure it will be great.

terryn1944terryn1944over 9 years ago
young woman with older man 01

Susan Hi this is Terry im a 69 mwm from ohio, love this story, and ya got my curiousity up and will be reading on as time goes, I see this was your first series in your profile so thanks ya got me a avid reader!

Terry

docrobdocrobover 11 years ago
Great start!

Solid background. Lots of detail. I will read more.

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