Love At First Sight Ch 01 4

SUMMARY: Typically, my favorite "style" of story to write is taboo in nature. Because of that, most of my stories end up in the "incest" category. This one is not incest, but the "taboo" aspect of it comes in the form of the extreme age difference between the two characters. Also, I write most of my stories from a female POV but decided to try to capture a strong romance story from the male POV this time, because I truly believe that guys can feel these kinds of emotions just as strongly as women. (i.e. experiencing "love at first sight" like the title suggests.)

This story is, by nature, a love story. It's more of that than anything else, although it does contain a decent amount of "sex" bits. It's about an older man who falls completely in love with a young girl the moment he lays eyes on her. It focuses heavily on emotions and internal thoughts, as well as dialogue. I'm mentioning that here as a warning, in case this isn't the type of story you're after here on Lit. It is a bit of a slow burn, and longer than my usual stories. I do try to focus on realism whenever I write, and work at making my stories as believable as possible.

This story looks like it will be about three chapters long. I'm almost done with the remaining chapters, except I still need to edit them. Hopefully I'll be able to get them posted quickly.

All characters in this story are 18 or older.

AUTHOR NOTE: This is not my usual category on here, and I hope this story finds a home with some potential new readers. I put a lot of emotion into this story, as it contains some real life thoughts and feelings that I've experienced, even if the story itself is make believe. I have even experienced sleeping with a much much older man, and I couldn't help but use bits and pieces from that experience in this story. I was going to write this from Lacy's point of view, but as soon as I started writing, I decided it would be better told through Logan's eyes. I hope you enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.

STORY:

[PART 01]

The first time I met Lacy, I fell completely and irrevocably in love with her. Nothing like it had ever happened before. In fact, all my life, I had adamantly sworn there was no such thing as love at first sight, prior to that day. But I would soon find that the entire course of my life would be forever altered after that fateful day. That was six months ago.

Like everyone in the small town we were both from, including myself, Lacy had a musical, southern twang to her voice. She was a young girl. When I first met her, I pegged her somewhere between sixteen and twenty. It was getting harder and harder to tell young people's ages anymore, considering how society seemed to be slowly grooming each new generation to mature earlier than the previous generation. Be that as it may, my first impulse was not sexual. As I said, I didn't know exactly how old she was. All I knew was that I was completely besotted with her.

Lacy worked at the local grocery market. We lived in a small town where practically everyone knew everyone. I didn't recognize her the first time I saw her, but it didn't take me long to figure out that her parents were the Millers. They lived semi-close to me, in the neighboring cluster of houses on the other side of the railroad tracks. Most of the houses in my hometown were connected to farming fields, including my own. I lived by myself after having inherited the house from my parents a decade ago. They had sold the field behind our house years before that, but I still ended up with just under sixteen acres of land to myself.

There was something about this girl that drew me to her. Maybe it was the sadness I had seen in her eyes during that first encounter. She had seemed timid, shy and rather withdrawn. Despite that, she asked me politely enough whether I wanted paper or plastic. Of course I chose paper. Plastic was horrible for the planet. That was the first time I saw her smile, when she heard my choice. I wasn't sure if it was because she agreed with my decision, or if she was just being nervously polite. Either way, it didn't matter. She had captured my heart.

Lacy was a couple inches shy of five and a half feet tall, with long, straight hair, medium brown in color. She was slender when I met her. She had grey-green eyes an adorably round face that shouted "friendly". Except she was the opposite of outgoing, so most people probably wouldn't use that word to describe her. I knew she was, though. Friendly. Warm. Heartfelt. Her ears were adorable and round, and she had her long hair tucked behind them as she waited on two people in front of me that day. Her lips fascinated me, much as the rest of her did. They were both slightly plump, which only added to the image of sadness that I perceived when I looked at her. Like she had a slight, permanent frown on her face all the time.

As I stood in line during that first encounter, I couldn't stop staring at her. Drawing closer, my eyes took in a little more of her. She was wearing an open jacket with a lime-green t-shirt underneath. I couldn't help but notice the tiny round bumps that were her breasts. They were adorable just like the rest of her. And there was no way she was wearing a bra. The bumps in her shirt would be much rounder if she had a bra on. No, this girl preferred to go all natural. It was intoxicating.

I left the market that day feeling completely out of breath. My heart was racing and I could barely see straight. It was intimidating to me at the time. I didn't feel in control of my own feelings. As I said, nothing like it had ever happened to me before. And the rest of that day, I couldn't get her out of my thoughts. I remember wondering, over and over again, why did she look so sad?

By the following weekend, something else had started to happen within me. Emotionally, that is. I started to feel particularly... drawn of Lacy, if that even makes sense. That was also new for me. What was even going on in my head? There I was, a fifty-four-year-old guy, crushing hard on a girl who could easily be my daughter! Hell, she could almost be my granddaughter! Fortunately for me, I soon discovered that she was actually eighteen. That revelation came as somewhat of a relief. It told me that my thoughts weren't completely depraved, at least.

Now, I know what you may be thinking about me. But it wasn't like that, I tell you! At least, not at first. Like I said, it wasn't about sex. It wasn't a sexual attraction I had toward her. It was something else. Something more than sex, truth be told. There was just something... delicate about her. Something about her that I felt an overwhelming urge to protect. Or to save her from. I don't know. It was weird and new and honestly, a little confusing to me. But the feeling wouldn't go away.

Over the next month, I started frequenting the market more and more often. I probably made twice as many trips as I truly needed to. But anything just to be able to catch even a glimpse of her was enough motivation for me. I quickly discovered that she worked almost every day. And, after several times traversing through her lane as I checked out, familiarity started to shine in her eyes whenever she saw me. That made my heart quicken, every time recognition appeared on her face when she looked at me.

We chatted sometimes, too. Just briefly, and never about anything of any great importance. But I liked hearing her talk. I liked the way her lips curved slightly into an almost-smile when she saw me. And, admittedly, I enjoyed gazing at her bosom whenever she was looking away from me. I was convinced that she would never bother with a bra. Her boobs were small enough that she certainly didn't need one. And occasionally, especially on cooler days, I got an eyeful of nipple poking against the fabric of her shirt. It was enough to drive me crazy. But it still wasn't about sex. Not really. Or maybe it was. I don't know. Either way, I just found myself infatuated with her.

About two months after our first meeting, I realized that Lacy had started putting on weight. It looked really good on her, honestly. Her slender body was starting to flesh out a little, and her face was turning slightly rounder. Unfortunately, the sadness in her eyes only got more and more pronounced. She almost always looked like she was on the verge of tears. And there was something else, too. If I had to pick just one word to describe what I perceived, I would say she looked fragile. As if a strong gust of wind could knock her over and break her. And all the while, the feeling of wanting to protect her grew stronger within me as well. So much so that I made it my mission to find out why she looked so sad all the time.

A month later, I was standing in line waiting for Lacy to ring me up. There were six people ahead of me, so I had plenty of time to stare at her while we all slowly shuffled forward. She barely spoke to any of the customers as she cashed them out and sent them on their way. I found myself admiring her. Everything about her. From her pale skin to her slightly sunken eyes, to her swollen breasts to her--

Hold on. My eyes drifted to her bosom once more. Her breasts looked distinctly bigger than I could remember. Frowning, I squinted as I tried to see if she had a bra on. Maybe that was the difference? But no, they were still little cone-shaped hills on her chest. And I could just see a hint of two nipples poking into her fabric. So, no bra. I took a step closer as the next customer left the lane. Peering down a little lower, I almost gasped out loud. All the noises in the world came to a screeching halt in my head.

Lacy was pregnant.

[PART 02]

A little about myself. First, as I said, I am a fifty-four-year old guy. My name is Logan Evans. I've been single for the better part of a decade, after ending a rather rocky marriage of twelve years. We never had any kids. My ex-wife blamed me for that, and I honestly didn't know what to think. We never went to any sort of fertility clinic to find out why we couldn't have kids. But in the end, it was for the best. Our relationship had started off in a weird way, and it was rough going the entire time we were together.

My build is rather muscular, but not from working out or anything. Even though the farmland near my house wasn't mine, with sixteen acres of my own, I had plenty of physical labor to keep me in shape. My land included over ten acres of forest, which I kept clean. It wasn't how I made a living, but I spent plenty of time cutting up fallen trees. I used the wood to heat my own house, and sold or gave away the rest to other residents of my town. At nearly six feet tall, I had a strong frame and muscular arms. My hair was black but peppered with gray that had started in my thirties. I kept it cut short.

For work, I actually sold tractors. Big ones, to farmers all over the country. My job took me on a few trips a year, but for the most part, I did my selling from home. I was good at it. And I worked on straight commission. The tractors I sold were expensive. They weren't for small farms. Plus, with every sale there was the potential to add on and get the client interested in other, smaller (and more profitable) things to go along with it. The company I worked for also sold irrigation systems, but I only sold a few of those a year. Tractors were where I made the bulk of my income. And it was a good income, especially for someone living in a small town with a house that was fully paid off.

But back to my story. It had been three months since my first encounter with Lacy. And judging by the size of her growing belly, I decided she must have gotten pregnant very close to that time. And once I got over my shock at seeing an eighteen-year-old with a growing belly, I decided to do a little digging. I truly didn't comprehend why I had such an overwhelming interest in her, but I just couldn't deny it.

A few trips to the local bar in town told me just about everything I needed to know. I was casual with my questions, dodging around so as not to appear like a stalker. Most people at the bar had known me for a long time. And everyone knew the Millers. From those outings, I learned Lacy's story. At least enough of it to paint a decent picture in my head.

As it happens, the father of Lacy's baby had left to join the military. And apparently, he had broken her heart before leaving. It seems they had been high school sweethearts, but soon after they both graduated, he started telling everyone he wanted to join the Army. Now, I've heard many stories throughout my life of the good ol' guy and gal getting hitched and having a baby just before he went off on tour. The girl would then raise the baby happily on her own, without a wandering eye. She'd be a strong woman with a lot of fire. And then of course, years later, he would come home as a semi-hero and instantly become the "father of the year".

But Lacy's story didn't sound like that at all. This wasn't a movie. This was real life. And in real life, good, long-lasting relationships were becoming harder and harder to find. After a little more digging, it sounded to me like the father of her baby probably didn't even know she was pregnant. Nobody seemed to know that for sure, and it would look weird if I pressed that particular question too far. But it did break my heart to hear the story. Yet at the same time, my resolve turned to steel. I was determined to help this girl. To save her. From what, I still didn't know. But it felt right to me.

After learning a bit of her history, I redoubled my efforts to get to know her. I went to the store every single day. There was always something I needed, so I didn't think it would seem all that strange. I even found myself milling around the aisles while I waited for her lane to clear before approaching. That gave me more opportunity to talk to her. I really wanted to get to know her. And I really wanted her to get to know me. Maybe it was borderline stalker-like behavior, but every time she saw me, I swear her sadness seemed to wane. At least momentarily.

Slowly, over the next two months, our casual chats started to grow more personal. I even made her laugh a few times, which made my heart thud rapidly in my chest when I heard it. She has a musical laugh. Admittedly, it was almost arousing to me when I heard her laugh. That's pretty fucked up, I guess. I don't know. All I knew for sure was that I still felt the same about her as I had the first time we met. Except it was about a thousand times stronger.

Which brings me to the moment when I finally got up the guts to ask her out. Well, I didn't exactly "ask her out". It wasn't a date, per say. I just asked if she felt like walking around and chatting after work. I held me breath the second the question was out of my mouth. It felt like a huge gamble. She looked up at me with those sorrow-filled eyes and I felt myself melting all over again, wishing I could somehow help pull her out of her melancholy. Surely she would say no to my offer. What young girl in her right mind would care to be seen hanging out with a fifty--

"Sure," she said, and I realized that she hadn't really hesitated to answer my question. The hesitation was in my own head.

My cheeks immediately felt hot so I forced myself to smile and try to hide my embarrassment. She smiled back, which made the whole thing worth it. I asked her when she was free and she said at six. A quick glance at the clock told me I had three hours until then, so I thanked her and told her I'd see her then.

After making my way back home to put away the groceries I had bought, I spent the next hour and a half getting "ready". It was more effort than I had ever put into "looking good" than I had exerted over the entire course of my twelve-year marriage. I picked out a plaid button-down, a pair of jeans and leather boots. After that, I practically stared at the clock while the last hour ticked by. Finally, it was time to head downtown, so I hopped in my truck and headed back.

Parking at the grocery store, I waited a few minutes until just after six. Then I hopped out and started to walk toward the door. Lacy was just coming out when I got to it, so I stopped. She looked up at me and smiled. Oh, that smile! She was wearing a gray sweater and jeans. Her long hair spilled mostly down her back, but she had a few locks draped over her shoulders that hung down her front as well. Right over her breasts. I had to forcibly keep my eyes locked on her face so I didn't get caught staring at her tits. They looked plump, although the sweater hid their usual conelike shape.

"Hey, Mr. Evans," she said when I came up to her.

"Hi Lacy," I said back, smiling. Then I added, "Uh, you can call me Logan, though."

She shrugged and said, "Ok." That was all. Then she glanced around and asked, "Where did you want to walk?"

Nodding to my right, I answered, "I thought maybe down by the river park. If you want?"

Lacy shrugged again and said, "Sure."

So we started walking in that direction. And it suddenly felt official in my head. Our first date had begun. Well, if you want to call it that. I mean, we didn't really do much. We didn't go out to eat. We didn't go see a movie. Of course, the theatre in this town wasn't even open that night anyway. Like I said, it was a very small town. We just... walked around. The downtown was very small. Only a few blocks with a handful of stores, two restaurants and three bars. There were two rivers that converged right in the center of the town, with only one streaming away to the west. The park we walked to was right in the middle of the river convergence, and we ended up spending almost two hours there.

We talked. And talked and talked and talked. It was one of the most pleasant conversations I had ever had. Despite how timid she was, she opened up quite a bit more than I expected. I even questioned her about her boyfriend, and got what I thought to be the whole story. It wasn't really anything nasty or bad. As I already knew, they had been high school sweethearts. But he had started talking about wanting to join the military even before they started dating.

They broke up a month before he left for duty. Lacy told me that she lost her virginity to him the last night he was in town, despite not being together. Without any prodding, she told me that they had planned it. Even though they both knew he was leaving the next day. Apparently, she was the one who asked him to do it. She admitted that she had wanted to experience it with him since she had known him for so long, and she felt safe with him. She knew he wouldn't hurt her. He of course agreed. And so, on his last night before heading off, they did it.

As expected, he left the very next day. Unfortunately, two weeks later, she realized she had missed her period. And it turned out that the day I met her was one week after that. So she had known for several days that she was pregnant when I first saw her. Somehow, I thought that might just explain the sadness I had perceived in her that day.

Our first "date" ended at the grocery store. I thanked her for keeping me company and then hopped into my truck. I waited until she drove out of the parking lot before leaving. It was one of those little "protective" moments of mine. What kind of guy would leave a girl by herself at night? Once she was headed down the road, I made my way home.

That night, I dreamt about Lacy. All night long, it felt like.

[PART 03]

Over the next few months, things slowly progressed with my "relationship" with Lacy. I started going to the store pretty much every day. And our chats while she scanned my groceries slowly became more involved. I even got up the nerve to "ask her out" several more times. She agreed every time, and we ended up meeting after her shift ended each time. We more or less did the same thing when we met, walking around while chatting the night away. It was all rather platonic, yet deeply emotional for me at the same time. I felt like I was really getting to know her. What she liked. How she saw the world. We walked through the park more often than not. But one time, I invited her out to lunch, mid-shift. She met me at a local restaurant and we ate a meal together while chatting. Turns out, she loved burgers. So did I. It was euphoric. And mind numbing.