You're Just Right for Me

She sat on the edge of it, and then motioned for me to sit beside her. Placing her hand on my thigh, she said, "You know, I've never slept with a guy on the first date. But, the way you make me feel, makes me want to make an exception."

"Bedding someone on a first date isn't part of my experience either," I said, putting my arms around her. "Shall we call it a first for both of us?'

"That's the general idea." Her short, blue denim skirt bunched up around her hips when she lay back and pulled me on top of her. Had she let me get just this far, I'd have been satisfied. Not since my divorce had I felt this strong about a woman. Passion on this level was something I once doubted I'd ever experience again; that is, until Ronnie came along. I just liked holding and kissing her, breathing in her wonderful scent, as clean and fresh as the air after a spring rain.

After we kicked off our shoes, she switched off the lamp on her night table. "You're ready, I can tell," she said, referring to my budding erection.

I began to unbutton her white blouse. "Are you?"

She took my hand and guided it over her crotch, letting me feel the wetness. "What do you think?"

"I think I'd like to get naked with you."

After she put her stuffed animals aside, we undressed and got under the covers. "You've touched a sensitive nerve in me," she said. "And I don't mean the femoral kind."

Gently, I brushed her lips with my finger and then kissed her. "By the way, how IS your femoral nerve?"

"It's feeling less impacted every day. I expect to be back at the Factory soon, thanks to your expert care." She paused. "And I'm hoping you can take care of me in other ways as well, doctor."

"I think the prognosis looks pretty good for that," I said, rubbing my full erection against her pussy.

She reached down to stroke it. "I think you're right."

I took things slow, fully engaged, fully attentive, fully enamored by this young woman, this millennial who made me forget about my initial hang-up over age. She had such soft skin, and those legs, those incredible legs, long and powerful and wrapped around me. "I can see why you were such a great spiker," I said, referring to her stated prowess on the volleyball court.

She chuckled. "Um, I think it's you who's doing the spiking right now."

I was going slow and deep and purposeful, savoring every second. As a young man, I'd have banged away, gone at it like a speeding freight train, more concerned with satisfying my own needs than my partner's. Those days were long past, along with the capacity to climax six times in a day, my personal best, if my memory served me right. Now it was emotion over pure carnality, wisdom over performance. I didn't hear her complaining. Instead, she uttered sweet, pithy phrases—"you're making love to me the way I always knew it could be...you've spoiled me forever."

I stayed with her, adjusted my rhythm to hers. When she called for rougher, I gave her rougher. She really laid it down when we changed positions and she took top. "I can't get enough of you," she cried, squatting up and down on my dick. "Notice how I'm keeping my back straight," she said, making me laugh so hard I almost lost it.

Still on top, she changed into a straddled position, balancing herself on her hands, upping her speed. "Oh, you're gonna make me come. Come with me, Kirk, come with me." I'd never been able to synchronize my climax with anyone, not even with my wife. With Ronnie, I achieved another first by doing just that. Guys generally climax sooner, especially young guys. No longer a young stud, I could hold out longer. Or was this another example of our compatibility?

She seemed to think so. "Still think you're too old for me?" she said as we held each other. "You're not too old for me," she said emphatically, "you're just right for me."

You're just right for me...It was one of the sweetest, most romantic things I'd ever heard. In that tender moment, in the semi-darkness of her bedroom, I knew she was just right for me, too, knew I didn't need a Mephistopheles to grant me back my youth in exchange for my soul. Thinking out loud, I said, "Right now, my soul is with you, Ronnie."

She smiled and snuggled closer, resting her head on my chest. "Right now and, who knows, maybe forever."

"Maybe," I said, and held her until she fell asleep.