"I Can't Stop Loving You," Ch. 04

He gave her an odd stare that made her feel uncomfortable. As if she was evil and as if she was the Devil in disguise instead of an angel of mercy befriending an older man and an angel of devotion visiting her beloved's grave, he gave her a cold glare. With her tall, blonde, busty, and beautiful, and with her fearing he'd read her story by her sexy appearance, he was suddenly too quick to judge her book by her cover.

If reading him correctly, seemingly giving her his look of indignation, as if reading her as a gold-digger and a whore, he had a judgmental look on his face. Susan was accustomed to reading the envious looks of men whenever she was in the company of William or Patrick. When not thinking of her as their daughter, they looked at her as if she was Anna Nicole Smith married to 90-year-old Texas billionaire, J. Howard Marshall.

No doubt those who were envious of them didn't understand their relationship. Those who judged her couldn't understand that a young beautiful woman could have a friendship and a sexual relationship with an older man without clouding it and poisoning it with money. Obviously, they thought of her as a paid escort, a prostitute, or a woman just after his money.

He'd never guess that they had a mutual beneficial and loving relationship. He'd never guess that she gave him as much companionship, attentiveness, and happiness as he gave her. Sure, she gave him sex and he gave her money but nothing that any boyfriend and girlfriend wouldn't give one another in a loving relationship. Not even wasting her time to try and make him understand, he'd never guess that they were in love and truly loved one another.

Even though William's and Patrick's wives were dead before she even met William and/or Patrick at the cemetery, as if she was the other woman, he looked at Susan with a jaundiced eye. Then, as further proof to reinforce what he obviously thought of her, he turned to look at her car parked in the distance. He gave her car a long, pensive look as if having second thoughts with what he was about to say next. He confessed what he was thinking and what he thought of her when he returned his focused stare to her pretty face and shapely figure to tell he what he was thinking.

* * * * *

"I couldn't help but notice, as if he was here visiting his own grave," said Walter with a laugh, "but isn't that Patrick's Mustang GT? You don't see very many orange Mustang GT's with black racing stripes," he said with another laugh. "Reliving his childhood, he was so happy when he traded in his Lincoln Town Car and bought that car."

As if Patrick was still alive and ready and waiting to whisk her off on another adventure, Susan looked at her car with fondness.

"Yes, that was his car. He confessed that he always wanted a Mustang GT but paying for law school sidetracked that until he could afford to buy that car. With me a huge Mustang fan, he wanted me to have it," she said defensively and almost defiantly. "He left it to me in his will along with some other personal things of his that he cherished and that he wanted me to have."

None of his business, she didn't need to tell him and he didn't need to know that Patrick left her his condo and a sizeable bank account too. As if he was suddenly a detective interrogating her before uncovering a mystery, seemingly satisfied with what he was about to say, he threw back his shoulders and pushed out his chest before speaking. A flash of insight that took hold of his facial expression held the smile hostage that he freely gave her before.

"I see," said Walter seemingly not quite done with his interrogation of her. "Pardon me for being so boldly presumptuous but when you said Patrick was your Daddy, and I apologize for the inference but, were you inferring that he was your Sugar Daddy?"

'How dare he insinuate his imagined perversely perverted thoughts into her relationship with Patrick when he was so much more than that to her and she was so much more than that to him? Much different than the relationships she had with younger men and men her age, their relationship was much more than just sex and money.'

When he gave her a snide smile as if to tell her that her gig was up and he knew what she was, a gold digger and a whore, she laughed out loud.

"Sugar Daddy? Good gracious no," she laughed. "Not hardly. Not even close. I haven't heard that term used in ages," she said laughing again. "My mother, a stripper and a hooker, used that term when referring to some of the older, well-to-do men that she traded sex for money," she said. "I can assure you that our relationship was much different than that. Perhaps difficult for you to believe because he was so much older than me but we felt genuine love for one another."

As if he had just ruined whatever chance he imagined of having with her, his shoulders fell with his face and he looked at her apologetically. He looked at her as if she had just slapped him across the face. He looked at her as if she had just kicked him in the testicles for reaching out his hand to grope her breasts and finger her nipples when he did no such thing.

"Please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I just thought after seeing his car parked there and with you saying that he was your Daddy that—"

She forgave him with a shrug.

"Don't bother yourself with that," she said waving her hand of forgiveness. "We got a lot of odd looks from strangers reading into our relationship whenever we were together. We met after his wife died. We were friends first and then constant companions who grew to become lovers later, before he suddenly became ill," said Susan. "Yet, much more than just sex, we enjoyed one another's company. He was the Dad I never had."

Susan's obvious look of sadness inspired another apology.

"I'm sorry. I just thought with you so young and with him so much older, that—"

She interrupted him before he made a fool of himself again.

"Yes, to answer your unasked question, he bought me things and took me places but nothing that any man wouldn't buy and do for his girlfriend," she said. "I never asked him for a dollar. He was the one showering me with gifts. All that I could give him in return was my friendship, my companionship, and my love."

He looked at her embarrassed.

"That's none of my business," said Walter apologizing for the third time. "I apologize for making you feel that you needed to explain yourself by responding to my prying. I'm just a stupid, old man."

Being careful not to make him feel small and ruin her chance with him, she continued with her explanation for her sexual attraction to Patrick and his hope for sexual attraction to her too.

"With me never having a Dad and not even knowing who my father was, Patrick was my surrogate father as well as my boyfriend and lover. He was my heart, my soul, and my everything. He was there for me when I needed a strong shoulder to cry on and when I needed a cool head to give me counsel," she said with self-confident fortitude.

Walter looked from her to stare down at the ground before looking at Patrick's headstone and before returning his focused look to Susan.

"I see," said Walter seeming uncomfortable with her confession.

"Besides," she said giving him a sexy look and a naughty smile. "I'm older than I look," she said with a laugh. When he looked at her as if he wanted to ask the question of her age, she answered the unasked question of her age by volunteering her answer. Something she'd never do with a younger man or with even a man her age, she never told anyone other than an older man her age. "I'm 39-years-old."

Seemingly satisfied with her explanation, Walter nodded his head before giving her a look of astonishment.

"Wow! Thirty-nine-years-old. I never would have guessed your age. You don't look your age. I figured you for being in your late twenties to early thirties," he said.

Susan touched his arm with her hand and left her hand there longer than necessary to get him to make eye contact.

"Thank you for your compliment," she said. "You made my day."

As if her hand was touching his cock instead of touching his arm, he looked down at her hand before looking up at her. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. He looked at her as if he wished he was Patrick, albeit still alive and not dead. He looked at her in the way that William looked at her before Patrick looked at her in the sexually interested way too. He looked at her as if he wanted to make a move on her and ask her to go out with him.

"You make me wish I was twenty years younger," he said suddenly reverting to being a nervous, teenage boy instead of an elderly man.

Seemingly, not wanting her to leave, he continued their conversation. Not wanting him to leave either, she gave him a smile while touching the back of his hand with her manicured fingertips. As if she was about to take hold his hand, she kept her fingers there in contact with his hand longer than necessary to get his attention.

"Don't be silly. I love older men. I have a soft spot for them," she said giving him a long thoughtful look while more appropriately thinking that she had a wet spot for them. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

Giving her an odd look, he seemed embarrassed by his age and that he was so very much older than she was.

"I'm 68-years-old. I'll be 69-years-old in November," he said. "Compared to you, I'm an old man. Compared to you, I'm old enough to be your father."

'Her preferred age,' she thought. 'What's wrong with that? I need to have another Daddy.'

To be continued...

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