Disclaimer:
This is a work of Fiction written solely to entertain.
Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Also, all characters are 18 years or older.
Story:
Tara Johnson leaned against the window sill and watched her guests chatting on the wide porch of the lodge. They're older than I am, she thought, but they still know how to have fun. So what's wrong with me? Tara was only forty-three, but she felt like a very old woman. The only spark of life, she realized gloomily, was in her cunt which, in spite of all her efforts, persisted in thinking of itself as young. Right now it was creaming heavily, aching for fulfillment, even after twenty years of abstinence. Damn it all, how long would it take before she was released from this unwanted lust? She hated men, never wanted a man in her life again, but her unruly body defied her cool, calculating mind.
Tara tried to turn her thoughts away from herself, to concentrate on her current crop of guests. There were only three of them, four if you counted the dog. It was just the beginning of the tourist season, early June, but by August her Canadian fishing resort would be overflowing with guests, overweight and out-of-condition city people trying to recapture some feeling for Nature. Her three guests today were typical. Clyde and Becky Simmons, a middle-aged couple from Portland, Oregon were doing their best to acquire a tan, but only succeeded in passing from wormy white to sunburned red. Harold Davis, a shy bachelor of around forty-five, showed a little more sense, exposing himself to the sun only gradually, but even in full fishing gear he looked clumsy and inexpert, betraying his urban habits. Right now his dog Rags was taking a crap right in the middle of the carefully tended front lawn which sloped gracefully from lodge to lake. Tara resisted the impulse to throw her shoe at the mutt--Mustn't insult the guests!
With a sigh she turned away from the window and started across the large handsome main room of the lodge; time to get to the kitchen and start lunch for the guests. She was only halfway across the room when the big oak door opened and a stranger stepped inside. Tara gawked. Whoever he was, he hadn't made a reservation. What the hell was he doing here, fifty miles from the nearest town? She and the stranger approached each other cautiously, and Tara found herself staring impolitely but irresistibly.
The stranger was a young man, not even a man, really, he looked to be no more than eighteen or nineteen at the most. And he was incredibly handsome. Tara couldn't help but notice. Tall for his age, a little taller than she was, his young body was already taking on adult and virile characteristics--broadening shoulder, trim waist and hips, firmly muscled arms and legs. He had a nice tan, attractive features, naturally light blond hair which was long and modish. She liked the way his firm limbs showed beneath tight blue jeans and blue work shirt. What a handsome kid! The little girls at his school must cream their panties every time they see him, Tara thought with amusement. But it wouldn't do for her to gawk like that. She was old enough to be his mother.
"Hello," she said, adopting a formal smile of welcome. "What can I do for you?"
The boy was staring just as rudely as she had.
His voice cracked a little as he replied. "Are you Miss Tara Johnson?"
"Yes," she said, amused by his shyness, "I'm Miss Johnson, I own this lodge. Were you looking for a room?"
The boy reddened and said timidly, "I guess you wouldn't know me. I'm Vince... Mother."
Mother! Tara went stiff with shock. It just couldn't be! And yet the name "Vince," the uncanny resemblance, now that she noticed it, to the man she had once loved...
It all came back to her in a flash, the events of twenty years before which she had tried so hard to bury and forget. She fought against the memory, but it rushed over her, bringing back that former life she had rejected, her life as a complete and fulfilled female.
Born and raised in a very small town, Tara had dreamed throughout her adolescence of getting away to the city, leading a glamorous and exciting life. She was ashamed of the fact that her mother kept chickens in the back yard, ashamed that her father was only a worker in a pulp mill. She wanted to rise above her origins, to be beautiful and famous, maybe even a movie star. Well, she didn't make it to Hollywood, but she did make it as far as Seattle, and while she never became an actress, she did become a damned good stenographer. She might even have become a private secretary to a company president, a successful career girl, if she hadn't met Todd Adams.
Tara was twenty-three then, doing well in her profession and happy, she thought, to be living alone in her small city apartment, doing just as she pleased with her time and money. She dated occasionally, but she was not interested in marriage, certainly not yet. She'd seen what happened to her own mother, who'd married at twenty one, had seven kids, and become an old woman by the time she was thirty. That life was not for Tara. She had every intention of remaining free, having fun, enjoying her youth. But all her wise intentions were forgotten when Todd came into her life. The moment she saw him, she felt an irresistible physical attraction, and as their acquaintance grew, she knew she was powerless to resist this man.
They had met when they literally ran into each other outside a department store in downtown Seattle. Tara was emerging from the store in a hurry, her arms piled so high with packages that she could hardly see where she was going. The next thing she knew, she had sat down hard on the sidewalk, her packages flying in all directions. Looming over her, still standing but swaying from the impact of their collision, was the most attractive man she'd ever seen in her life. She only briefly noted his good looks, however, because she was angry.
"Thanks a lot!" she snapped, attempting to rise. She gave a little squeak of pain. God, it felt like something was broken!
The young man was full of concern. "Here, let me help you!" he cried, extending a hand and helping her slowly to her feet. "I'm terribly sorry! It was all my fault! Are you hurt?"
"I don't know," said Tara grimly. "Is it possible to break your ass?"
They both started laughing. "Well, I'm not a doctor," he said and grinned, "but I'd be glad to examine it."
"I bet you would!" chuckled Tara. "Wait, let me move around a little." She took a few steps gingerly, and decided she'd live. "I guess it's intact."
