Snowed – Part 12

snowed cover image for blogMike’s conversation with Deidre takes a turn for the worse when she asks him to make love to her for the first time. He tells her he doesn’t deserve it. She should give that gift to a better man than he.

“You’re not a loser, Mike. You think you are, but you’re the kindest, most wonderful man I know. Maybe one day you’ll realize how special you are and that you deserve all kinds of good things from your life.”

“Baby, if that day comes, then I’d gladly take what you want to give me. In the meantime, anytime you need a friend, I’m here. I’ve had a better time with you than most women my age.”

“You like older women,” she commented, hitting close to the mark.

“Yeah, well. . . . I’ve had more experience with older women.”

“What was your first time like?”

I laughed loudly, rather embarrassed. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

“Why, cause I’m a kid?”

“No, cause you’re a woman. Most females do not react well to the tale. Short version, a divorced older woman seduced me when I was seventeen.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. It lasted about six glorious, orgasmic months. Then she found a man her age and remarried. She divorced him a few years later, but I was too old for her then. She found another boy toy, then moved on to husband number three.”

“You didn’t care?”

I shrugged. “It was great while it lasted, but it wasn’t meant to go on forever. She had a kid with hubby number two. I always kind of figured he was mine.”

“And she never said?”

I shook my head. “What could I have done? I was seventeen, still in school. She was—hell, she was the age I am now!” I found that really humorous for some reason. “Ironic, huh? The kid is growing up with a rich dad and a mother who dotes on him. He plays soccer and is smart as a whip. I still hear from her at Christmas,” I confided.

“Do you think she regrets your affair?”

“Do you think she’d write me every Christmas if she did?”

“I think she regrets cutting it off,” she murmured. “I would. But she had to do what was right for all of you. Tying you down with that kind of responsibility wouldn’t have been fair to any of you.”

“You’re very perceptive.” I was, frankly, stunned.

“I just know how I’d feel. I could never stop loving a guy like you.”

Her lips on mine made it hard for me to think friendly, big brotherly type thoughts. I did my best to remind myself that she was still a girl, not a mature woman. She felt like a woman, she smelled like a woman. She tasted like vanilla lipgloss and hot chocolate, an irresistible combination for me. So why was I still resisting? Because that tiny voice in the back of my mind reminded me that not only had I flirted with her divorced mother, we’d gone out a few times and ended up on this same couch doing something damn similar to what I was now doing with her daughter. Only it had gotten to the hot, sweaty, heart pounding conclusion.

© Dellani Oakes 2014

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