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Now if I could just forget what we did in that bed. Fuck, I woke up last night stroking my cock and I swear I could smell her scent all around me and her taste on my lips. I awoke desperate, needing more from her. So desperate, I almost marched over to her place and took what I needed. I was pretty sure she would give it to me…well I admit, it was probably closer to fifty-fifty. I was stupid for staying here another night. It’s accomplished nothing. I should have been long gone with Clancy, Idaho and a certain woman with warm caramel hair that reminds me of apples in the fall... in my rearview mirror.
With a sigh that feels like it was dredged from the bottom of my soul I head toward my room. I feel older than dirt lately and being here for some reason makes me feel older. I never thought I’d find myself in this shape at this point of my life. I’m at the age now where I envisioned a home, a good woman and being… settled.
That’s a fucking joke.
The only thing I’ve settled is that women are evil and life is a fucking bitch.
I demanded Hope supply a television in the room earlier and she brought one in here that looked like it could be the very first ever made. I was genuinely surprised it wasn’t black and white when I turned it on. I fall back on the bed, and turn it on, but within thirty minutes of sifting through the channels I’m bored to tears. Too keyed up to do much else, I slip out of my clothes and into my swim trunks. They’re still a little damp from yesterday, but it doesn’t matter. They will get wet in the pool anyway. I tag a towel as I head out the door, throwing it over my shoulder. I’m shocked when I see Hope by the pool with her son.
“What are you doing?” I ask stupidly, since it’s pretty clear what she’s doing. She’s got swim trunks on her son and she’s wearing a very modest navy blue one-piece swimsuit. I can’t remember seeing a woman wear a one-piece suit. It’s usually a bikini and the more skin it shows the better. What Hope is wearing shouldn’t be sexy. I’ve seen dresses that show more skin than she is right now. But she might be the sexiest thing I’ve seen. Except for the color, she kind of reminds of the babes from Baywatch—that old stupid television show I enjoyed puberty with.
“Swimming?” she asks, looking up from the small round soaking pool that is about five feet away from the actual pool. She’s sitting down inside the circle with her son on her lap. He’s splashing in the water and playing with what I would assume are bath toys.
“I thought this was for guests,” I ask, still shell-shocked and I’ll even admit that I shouldn’t have put it like that. It didn’t exactly come out like I meant for it to. I’m too busy trying to control my stiff cock to pay much attention. You would think I could control my fucking hormones at my age, especially with her son here.
Apparently not.
“My son wanted to play in the water. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, of course not. It just seems…”
“What?” she huffs and I get the feeling that with this woman I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
“It just seems unusual I guess.”
“Maybe if we were open for business, but like I’ve said time and time again—we’re not open.”
“I can come back later if you want?” I ask, and for the first time in my life I’m unsure of what to do around a woman. That’s not exactly true, it seems Hope is always throwing me off my game. Not that I ever had much of a game. There was never a need for it when women had a tendency to fall on my dick.
“It’s fine,” she sighs out, saying it in a way that I’m pretty damn sure that it’s not fine, but I shrug it off. If she wants me gone she should have the balls to tell me. Although I’m damn glad she doesn’t have balls.
I walk into the pool, as Hope goes back to talking to her son. The silence between us is strained, at least on my end. It occurs to me I don’t really know how to be around a woman where sex is not on the table… and one who has a kid.
I pretend to be floating and absorbed in being alone. Yet, I find myself listening to the two of them play and laugh. I’ve not really been around kids before. I’ll be turning forty next year, and I’ve never really wanted kids. My parents didn’t really want anything to do with me, and I made up my mind never to be the absentee parents they were. Which truthfully led to the decision never to have children. I had a career, a busy life and there was just no room for children. Listening to Hope talk to her son and the little boy’s laughter, I can’t help but wonder if I missed out on something.
