She was bent over the bed in a black thong and black stockings. Her bra was already removed. Her ass was perfectly shaped, her entire body tanned and toned from her neck to her toes, obviously from exercise and time in the sun. She looked like a fitness model. She had both feet on the floor, her torso flat on the king-sized bed with my hands holding her waist and her pussy seemed to fit my cock like a tailored glove as we both vocalized our pleasure in unison. Her arms were outstretched, and her face was down. Our attraction to each other was electric, neither of us saying a word, only moans of passion escaping our mouths as the rhythms of our bodies synchronized. She turned around, but I couldn't see her face, she was wearing a mask. It was black with fake jewels, and it matched her lingerie perfectly...
I had fallen asleep and awakened after my short mid-morning nap. I liked to jog on the beach in the morning twice a week and when I did, I usually ran for thirty minutes. Fifteen minutes out, then turn around and come back. I didn't care about distance. There was no one I was competing with except father time and he always won, eventually. It was especially enjoyable in October in the Florida panhandle, and fortunately it still provided benefits for someone my age.
It was the second time in five days I had the dream about the sexy woman. It was entertaining to think about, but it was a dream. Maybe it was some subconscious memory of an actress or a model I had seen during the summer and had forgotten about. I wasn't exactly the type of guy that young fitness models go after at age fifty-nine and happily retired.
I walked down the stairs to the kitchen for a bottle of water in my sleeping shorts. My runs weren't sprints or marathons, but they were enough to make me want to rest before I did anything challenging for the rest of the day. I saw the light flashing on my phone as soon as I entered the room, so naturally I checked it to see my messages. There were seven unread text messages and three missed phone calls. The last one was less than ten minutes ago, all from my daughter. Naturally as a worried father I immediately called. She answered after one ring.
After hearing her talk for about three minutes non-stop, I finally had a chance for a response.
"It will be ok, baby. I have room and we'll make do. Just come over when you get ready or let me know if you need help moving anything. I love you, " I said as I hung up my phone with my daughter Randi, who was crying, and placed it back on the kitchen counter.
'Well, shit'
, I thought to myself. There goes my bachelor life, at least for a while.
'Stop'
, I thought to myself. '
She's your only child, even if she's 29 now'.
I had gotten so used to living alone since my wife's death nearly eight years ago, and almost being sixty, I had no desire to live any other way than alone. Sure, there was plenty of space in my four-bedroom townhome, but a roommate? For how long? Now I was starting to feel guilty. I had even had former army buddies and their girlfriends come and stay, but I also knew they were going to leave after a couple of days. But my daughter? How could I say no? She had fallen in love with an army helicopter pilot and moved up to Alabama two years ago, and I thought for sure they would have been married by now. I didn't ask for any details, but I was sure she would tell me when she got settled in and ready to talk. Marshal, her boyfriend and fiancΓ© of almost two years, was a cocky asshole who I both loved and hated. He was me thirty years earlier.
***
When I was home during the fall and not deployed, Randi, my wife and I always enjoyed watching college football together on Saturdays. I was a Florida State graduate and Randi went on to graduate from Tallahassee also, making me very proud. I was lying on the couch, not really absorbed in the current college game, but waiting to see my Seminoles play in the game following this one. The home team was wearing white in what they deemed a 'white out' to try to intimidate the opposing team that was ranked higher than they were, and the stadium was filled with white shirt clad students and fans. I didn't see the intimidation factor myself, however, it was an entertaining visual to watch on a seventy-five-inch big screen TV and seemed to be a morale builder for the home team.
Randi had moved in less than a week ago and seemed at home already. We had each taken turns cooking dinner during the past few evenings and today she was going to take advantage of the sunshine and condo community pool on this nice sunny Saturday. It was a short walk from my townhouse, and most of the vacationers had gone home for the off season, so it wouldn't be crowded.
"Dad, I'm going to lie out by the pool for a little while, I'll be back before the game starts," I heard her say.
I couldn't even see her from where I was lying facing the TV, so I just said, "OK, see you when you get back. I'll fire up the grill later."
***
I don't know how long I had been asleep when I faintly heard, "
Dad...game
..." I was opening my eyes and it looked like another overhead stadium shot of the white out game when I suddenly realized, '