Love Free or Die

Erin rolled her eyes. "Okay. Touche! You win that one—Horse. You most definitely were NOT worthless. And you're actually kind of funny."

Erin was walking a little gingerly and now Kirk knew why. He glanced down toward her crotch and said, "Sorry about that."

"Sorry? For the best fuck I've had in months?" She hesitated then added, "Or maybe ever? No need to apologize for that. But don't start thinking I'm in love with you anything, okay? That's what's called hooking up. Nothing more. Got it?"

"Hooking up. Oh, yeah. What people my age used to call a 'one-night stand.' Okay. Got it."

Erin picked up the sweater and sat it on the far edge of a coffee table and said, "Geez. We must have done something right last night. Look at all this shit!" She caught herself then corrected what she said. "I mean—stuff. I have to admit you were right about my um—potty mouth—too. I swear way too much."

Kirk wondered whether or not his comments about her tough-guy act being a defensive mechanism were having an impact. He hoped they were but he had to admit he liked it when a girl used 'dirty' language in bed. He didn't care for her gratuitous profanity outside of the bedroom and he couldn't help but believe it would stop once she...well, if she ever...started having...feelings for him. He cut his thoughts short and found himself wondering if or when there might be a next time.

"Speaking of doing something right. Look at the numbers by the main door." Kirk turned and noticed they read: 12 days, 6 hours, 15 minutes, 42 seconds.

"Wow! We shaved off a lot of time on our sentence in one night!" The couple high five one another and for the next few minutes they chatted as they ate.

Erin stopped eating all of a sudden and said, "I have my doubts about the number of days remaining.


"Why's that?" Kirk inquired.

"Well, remember how you said behavior has to change first and then be followed by attitude?"

Kirk froze. "I do. And just having sex doesn't mean attitudes have changed."

"Exactly. And no offense, but mine hasn't changed. Well, not much."

"Not much? Care to expand on that?" Kirk asked her.

"Well, Jesus, Kirk! I mean, just because we fu...hooked up...doesn't mean I want to marry you or that I've fallen in love or whatever we're expected to do. And honestly? I'm not sure that's ever gonna happen. Fair?"

"More than fair. Honesty is essential. I'm sure they've got some way to know what we're really thinking. Not mind reading or anything. Just some biometric means of monitoring our heart rate, etc., to know if we're telling the truth. So, yeah. That's fair enough."

"When I said 'not much' I have to admit I did enjoy last night." Erin looked down as though she was somewhat uncertain whether or not to say what she was thinking. Finally, she added, "And I have to say I actually enjoyed dressing up for you. If you know me—or at least the woman I've become because of how I've been treated—that's an amazing admission."

"I can't and won't tell you or anyone else how to feel, Erin. I just want to know what you're feeling and thinking. But I did want to say you looked stunningly beautiful and I really did feel like I was being set up."

"Set up? How so?" Erin look puzzled.

Kirk chose his words carefully. "You have a huge walk-in closet full of every kind of clothes a woman could wear. You could have chosen a silk blouse, a long dress, or jeans and a t-shirt. But you chose the exact things I like more than any other."

Erin raised her eyebrows. "Oh, does the Horse have some kind of fetish? Is he unable to um...perform...without his woman dressing up like a little doll for him?"

Kirk was uncertain now whether or not Erin was kidding or if she was firing a warning shot across the bow that said, "Don't even TRY to go there, asshole, because I won't play your little game."

"I asked you to be completely honest with me so I can only hope you feel the same."

"Of course. No bull shit...I mean, please be honest with me, too, Kirk."

"Okay. Well, I do have a thing for sweaters. Not the baggy things grandmothers—I know, I know—women MY age—wear. And not the ugly Christmas sweater thing, either. I like form-fitting knit tops. Rib knitting is a huge plus. 'Sweaters' is just the generic term for what I like but even a simple tank top or 'wife beater' as some people call them is the kind of thing I like. Don't get me wrong. I like dresses. I like jeans. I like—naked—and other stuff. It's just that I really like sweaters."

"Okay, well, thsat's not so bad. I thought maybe you envisioned a woman with a closet full of nothing else or if she wore a plain old shirt you'd feel differently about her. I get it. It's a preference. A strong preference but not a requirement. Am I close?"

"You are indeed. And while we're on this topic, I have another question. Do you mind?"

"Where am I gonna go? It's not like I can run away and leave you so ask away." Erin was clearly being playful which was a good sign.

"What do you think about the term 'soul mate'?"

Erin thought for a moment then said, "I'm not sure. I guess I've always believed there really is that one special guy out there waiting for me. I mean, it's not like we can just hook up with someone and fall in love with them. Oh, again, no offense about last night. That was actually pretty great. But that doesn't make you my should mate. What's your take on it?"

"I used to think Anne was my soul mate. But since her death I've realized that I just got really lucky. Not in the lottery-winning way where it's pure luck but in the sense that I tried to make the best choice I could once I got to know her. But what I learned is that there are a LOT of woman who would be perfect for me, a bunch more who would be good for me, even more who would be compatible, with most not even being suitable all. I think that's true for everyone. Am I crazy?"

"Hmmm. No, not crazy." Erin was staring at her plate as though there something on it that shouldn't be there. "I just never thought of it that way before. If I get what you're saying, it's like there's a 'range' of people who could work for you or me anyone, for that matter. It's not that there's this one perfect match sent from heaven above but that there are quite a few people who could well—fit the bill?"

"Exactly. I may be wrong but my experience—no jokes, okay—tells me that there can't be just one ideal person. So if you meet someone who's a good fit in all the areas that are important to you, and if both people are dedicated to making it work, then they have a very good chance at being happy together."

"You're a pretty smart guy. Did you know that, Kirk?"

"My mother always tells me I am but it's nice to hear someone younger and...very pretty...tell me so."

"Kirk? Are you blushing? Oh, my GOD! You ARE blushing!" Erin got up and came around the table and pushed her way onto his lap. "Does Kirk have a crush on me?" she teased. "Come on. Tell me. Honesty, remember? Does Kirk like Erin?"

Kirk hadn't blushed in so many years—maybe decades—he'd forgotten what it felt like. Erin had her arms around his neck and he could feel his cock stiffening again. "Oh, there's my answer! Kirk—or at least's Kirk's horse cock—DOES like me!"

"Erin," Kirk protested. "Come on. Please? Give me a break here, okay?"

"Why? Is it senior's day or something? Am I supposed to give you a discount on getting a hard time because you're too old to take it?" She began nuzzling his neck and ears and repeating, "Huh? Am I?"

Kirk reached up and cupped one of Erin's breasts. "A man can only take so much, you know. At some point, he might just get tired of the girl's bullshit and take her right then and there."

Erin gasped and moaned.

Kirk felt something in the way Erin responded and it emboldened him. "Is that what you want? You want to push me past my limits? Do you want me to just rip your clothes off and fuck the shit out of you right here and now?"

Erin was whimpering and she moaned softly and said ever-so-quietly, "Yes. I do. Please fuck me again but...hard...I like it...rough. Really, really rough."

Kirk lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom. He literally threw her on the bed then jumped on top of her. He grabbed her baggy shirt and ripped it off of her. Buttons snapped and popped and Erin's eyes were filled with...not fear but...wild excitement. He then tore off her shorts and panties and got into what was essentially a push-up position on top of her.

"Oh, God! Are you going to rape me?"

"Is what you want? Isn't that exactly what you want?" Kirk hissed in feigned anger.

Erin's eyes were two huge saucers. "Yes," she said so quietly he could barely hear her.

Without any further hesitation, Kirk plunged his enormous horse-sized cock into her pussy which was already drenched with juices in anticipation of what she was craving. Kirk fucked her harder than he'd ever fucked anyone before. Erin was screaming; her nails were digging deeply into his back. He could feel blood trickle from the wounds but he didn't care. He just kept pounding the hell out of her pussy.

"Cum inside me. Fuck me. Rape me. Fuck me! Please!!"

Kirk let go another huge wad of cum inside of Erin's body. He was grunting like a madman and she was screaming in ecstasy. Kirk collapsed alongside her. Both of them were panting like dogs. As he lay there he began wondering if he'd just made a terrible mistake. He dreaded asking but he had to know. He rolled over and raised himself up. "Hey. Are you okay? Was that—okay?"

Erin didn't speak. She had tears in her eyes. "Jesus. Erin. Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry. I thought..."

Erin shook her head. "No. Stop. You didn't hurt me. I'm okay." Tears fell from her eyes and rolled down her face and onto the sheets.

"Then what it is? What's wrong?"

Erin sniffed and wiped away her tears. She sat up and put her head between her legs. "You have a thing for sweaters, right?"

"I do," Kirk replied.

"How many people have you shared that with? I mean, other than Anne?"

Kirk hesitated then said, "Two. You and my therapist."

"Was it hard to do that?" she asked.

"Yes," he told her.

"Then I hope you can understand how hard it is for me to say this. I hope you won't hate me or think I'm sick when I tell you." Erin wiped away more tears then sat up and looked directly at Kirk. "I have a 'thing', too. I've had a...I've had this fantasy of...I dream about being...raped by a handsome older man. I've had this fantasy since...well...for as long as I can remember." She looked away being saying, "I've never told anyone this before. Ever."

Kirk put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm glad you told me, Erin. That took a lot of courage."

"So am I some kind of sicko? What girl wants to be raped? Am I insane?"

Kirk pulled her close. "You don't want to actually be raped, Erin. It's just a fantasy. And fantasies can be very enjoyable as long as both people feel completely comfortable and safe sharing them. And no, I don't think you're a 'sicko' or weird or anything else. Human beings have needs. Some of those needs are sexual. Some sexual needs are considered unusual but that's only because a very small percentage of people have them. But who cares how many or how few share what you or I like? If you need something, then YOU need it. Period. What anyone else thinks just doesn't matter."

Erin rested her head on his shoulder. "Why can't you be 15 years younger? Or even just ten?" She tried to laugh but Kirk knew the age difference was a big deal to her.

He decided to try to joke around, too, although it was becoming a sensitive issue. "So if I was 41 instead of 51 you'd possibly be interested? Is that what you're telling me?" He shook her gently as a way of saying he was kidding around.

"Well, yeah. I mean—no. It's just that...well...I mean, you're a LOT older than me. Isn't that weird to you? Isn't it kind of...I dunno...creepy?"

"May I answer your question with a question?" he said.

"You just did!" she said trying to be friendly.

"Uh, no. That wasn't an answer. It was just a question." Kirk could see Erin wasn't following so he plowed on ahead. "Let's just assume for the sake of conversation that one of the many guys you could be very happy with just happened to be well...a lot older than you. What if you could be really, really happy with that guy and what if he loved you so much he'd do anything and everything you ever dreamed of to make you happy? And what if he did those things because he loved YOU for who you are that much? Would you rule him out because he's too old? Assuming, of course, you at least find him reasonably attractive—for an old guy, of course."

Erin finally laughed. "You're actually very funny—for an old-er guy, that is. I don't know. I mean, shouldn't two people be at least close to the same age?"

"Why?" Kirk asked. "What if everything else is good—really good—except for the age difference. Would that be a deal breaker for you?"

Erin looked at him again. "You're also pretty smart—for an ol..."

"For an old guy. Yeah, I know."

Erin could see she'd hurt his feelings. "Oh, Kirk. I was just totally kidding! I'm SO sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Really. Sometimes I just don't know when to stop."

Kirk forced a smile and said, "No big deal. I know you're just kidding around. Well, mostly anyway." He pulled her close and let her go again to assure her he wasn't hurt even though he was. He hated to admit it but he was falling in love with her and he didn't want to open himself up to the kind of hurt that was bound to come when she told him she just didn't feel the same way. There was just no way this young, sexy woman was going to feel the same way about a man who some 25 years older than her.

"Kirk. You ARE funny. And you ARE smart. I hate it that you're forcing me to think about things I've never considered and...I hate even more when I can't find an argument better than yours."

"You never did answer my question. Would you kick an older guy out of bed for eating—Metamucil?"

Erin laughed. "Okay, that old-person joke was on YOU!" She sat quietly for a moment then said, "I guess not." Then she turned and smiled and told Kirk, "At least not if he had a really, really big cock and if he was really, really rich!"

Kirk didn't smile and Erin immediately stopped doing so. She'd gone there—again.

Kirk waited for a moment then said,"Erin? You've talked about money and guys being rich more than once. Is money really that important to you? I mean, in our hypothetical case, if that old-er guy was everything else you wanted except your age would he have to be rich for you to have feelings for him?"

"Money's an important part of life, Kirk. I grew up poor and I don't ever want to be poor again."

"That makes sense. But what if that guy was just solidly middle class with a mortgage and a car payment and bills. What if he wasn't rich? Would that be a problem?"

"Well, speaking hypothetically, of course, if he was really great in every other way, and he had a decent job then no, it wouldn't be a big deal. I don't need a lot of stuff to be happy. But I also don't want to live paycheck to paycheck, either. Am I answering your question? I'm doing a lot of talking, but I'm probably not making a lot of sense."

"You're making great sense and yes, you did answer my question."

"What is it you do for a living, Kirk? If I may ask, that is."

"I had an accounting firm but I sold it when Anne got sick. I just couldn't keep working when she needed so much care. I made a very healthy profit but it isn't enough to support another person. Not even a younger, very attractive person who doesn't need a lot of stuff to make her happy." Kirk waited for a moment then said, "But I can assure you that if I ever did meet such a person and should she have similar feelings for me, I'd do anything necessary to provide for her. Okay, now I'm rambling."

"No. That's not rambling. That's just—honesty. Money and sex are the two things most couples fight about so if two people, hypothetically speaking of course, were to get involved a committed relationship, then they should know how the other person feels about those things. As well as other things, too."

"Such as?" Kirk enquired.

Erin slid back over next to him. "Well. For instance, let's say this hypothetical couple with this hypothetical age difference were to become involved. The younger girl—you did say she was pretty, too, didn't you?"

Kirk smiled as Erin looked at him. "I did. Because she is very pretty."

"Okay. Just checking. So she'd want to know if this old...this nice man...whom she found to be attractive...would want to have children because hypothetically speaking, she would. So, in this hypothetical case, would he?"

"Well, I'm certain that any guy who really, really cared about this younger, very attractive woman would want to do anything and everything to make her happy. So it's a virtual guarantee he'd want to have children with her. Hypothetically, of course."

They spent the rest of the evening talking about everything two people could talk about before they got so tired they had to get some sleep. They went to bed together but remained on separate sides.

For the next two days, Erin wore the things Kirk liked and he in turn treated her like she was the only thing that mattered to him. They found themselves having sex once the first day and twice the next. Although Kirk thanked Erin for dressing that way, he sensed something was missing.

"What's wrong?" he asked her at dinner.

"Is it that obvious?" she said in reply.

"No...yes. I mean it's obvious something's wrong but what it is that's wrong isn't obvious. At least not to me. Would you tell me?"

"I shouldn't have to tell you. You should know."

Kirk sighed. "Erin, I can't read minds. I'd be happy to do something for you but you have to talk to me. I now know that deep down, you're a hopeless romantic. You like being treated like a princess—not that you act like one—let's make that clear before I get in trouble." Erin smiled but didn't laugh. Something was really bothering her. "So can you please just tell me what's eating at you so I can fix it? Or at least try?"

Erin looked down and said, "I already told you once. I shouldn't have to say it again. I mean, I wear these clothes for you because it's so important to you. And honestly?" She actually smiled a real smile when she used their favorite new word. "I kind of like doing it for you. I...I like the way you look at me when I do." Her voice trailed off and Kirk was aware that she was allowing herself to be vulnerable around him. He even allowed himself to ask whether she might actually be having feelings for him but he was still too afraid to ask as though asking might jinx it or something.

"I'd look at you no matter what you wore, Erin. And I'd think you're beautiful regardless of what you're in. I just want you to know how much it means to me that you do that for me."

Erin looked away again. "Then why don't you know how much I need you to do...something I like...for me??

Suddenly, the light came on and the reality hit Kirk like a bolt of lighting. He got up and stood beside her and then knelt down next her. "I'm so sorry. I'm an ass. You've been so completely giving and all I've done is take and..."

"Kirk. Please. This is hard enough for me, okay? It doesn't help when you come over and say things like that. Things that make me lo..." Erin stopped in mid-sentence. "It's just too embarrassing to ask you again for what I want the most. If I have to ask, it ruins it for me. Can you understand that? If you had to ask me to wear a nice sweater for you, it would mean I don't want to do it but that I'm doing because you asked me to. So if I have to ask you for this..."

Kirk realized Erin had just come very close to telling him she loved him or something very lose to it. He was now torn between wanting to hold her close and tell he felt the same way and to react with anger and give her her greatest fantasy again. As much as he wanted to melt into her arms and have her do the same in his, he knew what she needed and that mattered a helluva lot more than what he currently wanted.