They were both so hot that their mating was frantic, tangling their bodies in sheets and pillows. He pounded into her hard and screamed when he came. Her orgasm wasn’t far behind.
Tim called Ronnie about a week later. “My dad told me about your conversation,” he said without preamble. “I’m really embarrassed about all this.”
“I’m a little uncomfortable too, Tim, but I gather that this type of thing is common in Europe. The older woman educating the younger man.”
Tim’s hollow laugh echoed through the phone. “That doesn’t help and anyway, you’re not that much older.”
Ronnie laughed. “It doesn’t help me either, but I’d love to spend time with you, if you’d like. We could talk and do whatever you want, nothing more.”
Ronnie heard Tim take a deep breath. “I think I would.” He paused. “Maybe we could have dinner at that place Dad took you to. Like next Tuesday evening?”
Ronnie had been dreading a long dinner during which she and Tim would have to make pleasant conversation. It sounded awful. “You know, let’s pass on dinner,” Ronnie suggested. “Let me meet you at your apartment at about eight. We can talk and see what happens from there.”
“I could pick you up.” Ronnie could hear the hesitancy in his voice.
“I’d prefer to meet you, if that’s okay.” No long drive with awkward silences.
“Sure. Ronnie?”
“Yes.”
“I’m terrified and mortified.”
“Don’t be. We’ll only do what makes both of us comfortable. Okay?”
“I’ll see you Tuesday.” Tim gave Ronnie directions to his apartment.
“Okay. I’ll see you at eight o’clock. And Tim, wear those tight, over-washed jeans you were wearing that evening last summer. I remember how good they looked on you.”
“Yeah,” Tim said, his voice a bit lighter. “Sure. I will.” He hung up.
Ronnie drove to the apartment complex the following Tuesday and grabbed a heavy camel wool coat from the backseat. She wore a deep red, button front, man-tailored shirt and jeans, with her bare feet stuffed into soft leather loafers. She had on almost no makeup and had pulled her hair into a ponytail. Although she was in her early thirties she looked younger and less threatening. Only her lingerie was intended to tantalize, a dark red demi-bra and matching thong-style panties.
Her palms sweaty, Ronnie parked her car, found her way to Tim’s apartment, and rang the bell. It took a moment before she heard footsteps.
“Hi,” Tim said as he opened the door. Ronnie was surprised at how much he had changed in the few months since she had last seen him. Although he had been twenty-three that evening on the boat, he had still had some of the gawky teenaged angles and hollows to his body. No more.
“You’ve grown up,” Ronnie said as she looked him over slowly and appraisingly, enjoying the way his body now filled out the navy blue knit shirt he wore. His shoulders were wide and his hips narrow. Lord she loved muscular shoulders and she longed to run her palms over his upper arms, feel them around her. That would have to wait, however. Right now Tim’s fists were clenched at his sides and the open ingenuous smile that she knew could warm his ordinary-looking face was hidden beneath his nervousness.
Tim was terrified. When he and his dad discussed Clarisse’s ugly comments, and Tim had reluctantly admitted that even before that evening he had begun to doubt himself. He’d been a normal teenaged stud, seducing several members of his high school class, then having several longer-term relationships in college. But with Clarisse it had been different. As the months of their relationship passed, it took longer and longer for him to arouse her. He tried to be considerate and give her the time she needed but after prolonged foreplay, once he finally got inside, he came so quickly that Clarisse complained that Tim always left her unsatisfied. The last few times they had slept together, he’d been unable to get an erection at all. “Don’t you have a clue about women?” Clarisse had shrieked late one night. “All you want to do is fuck. Stick it in and to hell with the woman.” She’d laughed at him. “Now you can’t even get it up.” His brain understood what was going on, but his soul had doubts.
The scene at his father’s dinner table had been a humiliation for Tim and for several weeks he had gone straight home after work and shut himself in his apartment. After almost a month his father had showed up at his door and sat him down for a serious talk.
At first Tim had been appalled by his dad’s suggestion of hiring a prostitute, but when Ronnie’s name came up, Tim’s interest had been piqued and his body had reacted. Although he’d only met her the one time on the boat, he’d spent many nights fantasizing about her long blond hair and great body. TJ had explained about Jack and Ronnie’s unusual relationship, and Tim had agreed to the outlandish plan.
Now Ronnie was here and Tim was panic-stricken. This was all a terrible mistake. As Tim saw the corners of her mouth turn up, he asked, “What are you smiling at?” Her eyes were roaming all over his body, making his skin prickle. Was she going to make fun of him and of this ridiculous idea?
“Nothing. It’s just that you’ve matured and I enjoy looking at you.” She would tell him later, in detail, how hunky he’d become. Instinctively Ronnie knew that he wasn’t ready.
Tim was nice looking, with sandy brown hair and eyes the color of toast. As Tim nervously ran his long, delicate fingers through his hair, Ronnie thought about how those hands would feel on her skin. Nice, she thought, warming to her task. Very nice. And despite his nervousness, he had a sexy way of looking right into her eyes that made Ronnie tingle. “May I come in?” she said, noticing that he had worn the jeans she’d suggested.
Tim stepped back and let Ronnie brush past him into his apartment. God, he thought, she smells so good. “I’m glad you came.” His face reddened and he looked mortified as he realized his accidental double entendre.
“You know, Tim,” Ronnie said as Tim shut the door, “we’re going to drive each other crazy if we don’t relax.” She placed a light kiss on his cheek and dropped her coat on a chair.
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “I’ve been jumpy as a cat all day.” He rubbed his hands down the thighs of his jeans. “I’m not sure this was a good idea.”
“It was a wonderful idea and we’ll just talk for a while. Nothing you don’t want. Okay?”
Tim looked at his shoes, then looked at Ronnie. God, she was so sexy. He nodded.
Suddenly Ronnie was completely comfortable. Tim was a genuinely nice human being. “There’s nothing to be jumpy about. Have you got anything to drink? I think we could both use one.”
“I’ve got a bottle of champagne.”
“Great. Got any orange juice? We could make mimosas.”
“Sure. Good idea. The OJ’s in the fridge.”
“Any brandy?”
“There might be a bottle in the closet to the right. Why?”
“To make the perfect mimosa,” Ronnie said, crossing to the tiny kitchen, “you should add a shot of brandy.” Ronnie retrieved a container of juice and rummaged through the liquor closet until she found a bottle of Triple Sec. “This’ll do,” she said. Returning to the living room, she saw that Tim had half-filled two champagne flutes with champagne. He quickly added an equal amount of juice, then she topped each off with a shot of Triple Sec.
“To the evening,” Ronnie said, touching her glass to Tim’s.
Tim stared into her eyes over the rim of his glass, unaware of the sensuousness of his gaze. “Yes. To the