Mature Man & Maiden Maureen Ch. 01

Mark, a much older man, befriends a much younger woman.

I met Maureen, while walking my dog through the dog park. She stopped me in my tracks when she suddenly appeared from behind some shrubbery with her puppy, Missy, a Golden Retriever. He had spotted my dog, Polo, and ran out to play chase.

My dog is the chase champion, only he likes being chased and not chasing other dogs. The fastest dog at the dog park, no dog can catch him. Instead of naming him Polo, I should have named him Flash or Zip in the way that he can run, jump, leap, and zigzag away from any dog at will.

I watched her dog interact with mine. She was so young, so clumsy, and so funny in her play. With her paws too big for the size of her, she look as if he wore oversized shoes that caused her to trip and stumble. So terribly uncoordinated, she was as laughable as she was beautiful.

Then, I looked at Maureen, again, so young, so self-confident, and so self-assured. In a word, indeed, she was a true beauty. Hypnotizing and mesmerizing is how I'd describe her. Never had I met anyone like her.

Wishing I was 20-years younger, never have I seen a woman as beautiful. She was tall, at least, 5'9' tall while wearing flat sneakers. With her long, red, lush, beautiful hair, and her big, green eyes, she had enormous breasts, at least, a double D cup. Since I love tits, the bigger the better, if her red hair and beautiful face didn't attract my sexual attention, her big tits certainly did.

'Who is this woman and where has she been all my life,' I thought?

I was old enough to be her father. The thought that I was so very much older than she was, and that she hadn't been born yet, when I searched for my one and only, filled me with sadness, guilt, and shame. Easily, I was twice her age. What's wrong with me to sexually lust over a woman so young?

Suddenly, I felt like lecherous fool that I am. If I were her dad, I'd be warning her about guys like me, just as I had warned my daughters about older men being after only one thing. Yet, unable to control my sexual desire, there I was lusting after this, oh, so young, beautiful woman. Without realizing it, unable to remove my eyes from her and continuing to stare at her, I had become one of those guys.

'He's too old for you, Honey,' I imagined her father talking about me, when she brought me home to dinner to meet her parents, as if I was some young, grad student. 'Don't throw your life away over him. Find someone your own age. If you had children with this guy, he'll be old enough to be their grandfather when they're still in high school. Besides, he's only after one thing.'

'Only after one thing,' I imagined her father saying to her.

And he'd be wrong. In her case, I wasn't only after one thing. I was after everything. I wanted her. I wanted all of her. Love at first sight, I was already in love with her.

Of course, the dialogue that I imagined her father having with her over me was the same dialogue that I had with my own daughters. His thumbnail assessment of me would have been correct, only, I wanted more than just sex from her. I wanted everything. I wanted the stars and the moon. Until death do us part, I wanted to marry her and love her forever.

# # #

Nonetheless, sex screamed through my mind. Yes, of course, I wanted to fuck her. Yes, of course, I want to do dirty, nasty, and unspeakable things to her shapely body and to her beautiful mouth. Yes, without doubt, I wanted her in the way that I had never wanted another woman before.

All of this went through my mind in the first few seconds of meeting her. Never have I been so instantly taken with a woman. Never have I seen a woman so beautiful, so shapely, and so sexy. Never have I wanted any woman as much as I wanted her.

When I looked at her, she made me feel so sensuously soft and fuzzy, warm inside. She made me feel like the feeling I get from my first bite of rich, dark chocolate, or from that first kiss after a romantic evening, or when seeing someone as enchanting as was she. The thought of making forbidden love to her was a deliciously, decadent thought that I enjoyed savoring for as long as I could because I knew that it would never happen. I knew that she would never be interested in a man like me, a man who was twice her age.

Normally, someone like her would make me feel old and foolish. Yet, the moment that I saw her, she made me forget my past, forget my age, and yearn for a future with her in it. If only I was rich, I'd make her mine by tempting her with my wealth and money. If only I was younger, I'd entice her with my good looks and hard body. If only I was powerful and influential, maybe, she'd want me then.

If only she was mine for one night, I'd cherish the memory of her for when I'm older. If nothing more than a sexual fantasy, I imagined taking her in my arms and kissing her. I imagined parting her red, full lips with my tongue and French kissing her. I imagined touching and feeling her everywhere through her clothes while making out with her.

If that wasn't enough to sexually fantasize over, I imagined slowly stripping her naked before mounting her and making love to her. I imagined fucking her fast enough and hard enough to give her a sexual orgasm with my cock. No longer of a mind and body to entertain such sexual thoughts of a wild and crazy fantasy of having an intimate, sexual relationship with her, at least, I'd have the memory of her. At least, I would know what it would have been like to be with her that one time.

# # #

With a complexion so fair and so healthy, she looked brand new. I bet she smelled new, too. I saw her in the way that I'd see my new, shiny car for the first time. She's a real beauty with great lines.

May I touch her? May I take her for a spin? How fast will she go? With her natural curves, what will she do in the corners? She has that new woman smell. I can't wait to take her for a long drive to the beach, to the mountains, and to go parking at some romantic spot overlooking the ocean.

With her beautiful, red hair so shiny and her big, green eyes so bright, the contrast of the two made her look catlike in appearance. Red hair with green eyes tore through my horny mind, as if a laser to my love-sick heart. Without her even realizing it, she moved with the sexuality of a woman who knows that she has a hot body, but that doesn't need to show it.

With her so incredibly beautiful, she has no reason to prove anything to the world. She had class. With that, I knew she was modest and private, and I liked that about her. It's funny the things that I imagined, when reading into a woman and finding out later how right or how wrong I was in my instant, thumbnail assessment of her.

As if we were lifelong friends, we connected immediately. I felt that I already knew her. Much in the way of watching a favorite movie over and again, every time I looked at her, I noticed something else about her that I had missed before, something that made me want her even more. Her natural beauty stole my conscious thought and it was not until I walked beside her for some distance that I noticed that she was quite tall, at least 5'9'. Difficult not to notice, she had quite the figure beneath her tight fitting dress.

I had to pry my horny eyes and forcibly turn my sexually frustrated head away from her, so that I wouldn't be caught staring at her beauty. I didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable in my presence. I didn't want her to think me rude, lewd, or just another horny, old man lusting over her outside appearance without taking the time to learn more about her and who she is inside.

Instead, I decided to play it cool, so that she'd enjoy our time together, remain in my company longer, and hopefully, walk with me a bit more. I hoped she'd continue walking with me and talking to me, at least, until we were standing at the end of the earth together. My ulterior motives worked because she walked with me the entire time that I was with her at the dog park.

I so wanted to endear myself to her, but I had so little time to do that. My imagined hope, her time with me almost felt like a mini date and I imagined that we were a couple taking a stroll together, after having a sumptuous meal, and before heading off to bed to have wild sex. That warm thought, and with her by my side, lifted my spirit. She made me feel young and vital, again, something I thought would never happen to me again, after my divorce.

# # #

In this world of people, those who take little pride in their appearance, she was a shining star. Without doubt, being genetically perfect and looking like the woman that every man could lust over, love, and live with for the rest of their lives, she already had a head start. Still, so many women even don't put a brush through their hair or some gloss on their lips, when heading off to the dog park with their dogs. Embarrassed to say, but true, some dogs look better than their female owners.

Do they feel that because they're in a relationship that they no longer have to look appealing anymore? Do they feel that just because they're walking the trail in a dog park that no one will see them? Or do they just not care anymore and have given up on themselves? They're not the women I want. I want a woman who looks like Maureen. I want Maureen.

There she was at the dog park wearing a smart, short, low-cut dress that she could have worn to a restaurant. Her hair, clean and neatly tied back, displayed a feminine hairclip. With her long, red hair pulled back like that, the effect highlighted her cheek bones, and gave her an elegant look.

She wore makeup, a rarity to see women wearing makeup at the dog park, the mall, or the supermarket these days. Women are so casual, too casual in their appearances with blue jeans, wrinkled t-shirt or sweatshirt, and dirty, white sneakers being the uniform of the day. She was stunning. When compared to the other women at the dog park, she looked like a Goddess that had magically appeared on Earth just for me, I imagined, and I hoped. Something I'll never forget for as long as I live, that was the first time that I met Maureen.

# # #

Over the next few months, I saw her occasionally and, always, she looked as beautiful as she did the first time I met her. I tried planning my days accordingly, being at the park the same time that I saw her there last. Hoping to catch her again and always, so as not to embarrass myself or have her think me a stalker, I tried to make our chance meetings appear unintentionally accidental.

Then, when, after a time, I didn't accidentally on purpose see her, I started haunting the place and taking my dog there multiple times a day, until it was ridiculous with people asking me if I lived at the dog park. Besides my dog was getting too thin and muscular from all the exercise and I was getting too preoccupied with the thoughts of hoping to see her again. When I wasn't thinking about her, I sexually fantasized about her when masturbating myself. Then, at night, I dreamt about her naked and making love to me.

In the back of my mind, I hoped that she believed in fate and would pick up on the serendipitous circumstance of my preplanned, coincidental encounters. In the back of my mind, I hoped she found me as sexually appealing as I found her. I hoped that she was single and without a boyfriend. Of course, I was crazy to think that someone who looked like her would be without a man.

Moreover, I was deluding myself in thinking she'd be interested in someone as old as me. Without doubt, alas, unfortunately, and sadly, I was too old for her. Without doubt, alas, unfortunately, and sadly, she was too young for me. Oh, God, perish the thought and erase the image of her licking a pussy from my mind, but I hope she wasn't lesbian. If she was, such a waste of a beautiful and sexy woman to not be interested in having sex with a man.

# # #

"I don't come here as often as I would like," she said when I finally saw her again, after a long absence.

I was so happy to finally see her. Whenever I walked with her, instead of lumbering along, I had a spring to my step and a big, dumb smile on my face. I've never been as happy as I was when walking with her and talking to her.

"My dog loves the park and I love the exercise of walking within the beautiful scenery,' she said. "I wish I could take her here every day but...' she paused to give me a sad smile with her face suddenly becoming troubled. "I don't always have the time to take her,' she said in a softer voice that was suddenly distant.

Clearly being secretive, it was obvious that she was hiding something from me but what?

'I come here too much in the hopes of seeing you again; I wanted to confess to her but I didn't dare,' say that to her.

# # #

With her wrapping me around her little finger, she made me feel desperate. She made me feel foolish. She made me want to get down on my knee and declare my love for her. Suddenly, I felt pathetic. Knowing so little about her, I didn't even know her. To think that I have fallen in love with her was preposterous.

Definitely, I need therapy. Love at first sight; with everyone playing the field, and more interested in staring at their cellphones than in dating, who believes in that anymore, anyway? Yet, with there no explanation for who I loved and who loved me, love is the only thing that transgressed age. Right? Maybe no, maybe yes, I don't know. If only, I wished, oh, God...I'd love to love her. I'd love for her to love me.

She gave me a glimmer of hope every time she looked up at me and smiled up at me. As if I was her wicked, older boyfriend. Warming my heart, she smiled at me. Quickening my pulse, she actually smiled at me. With her getting my humor, she even laughed at my jokes. That's good right?

I made her laugh with my dry, sometimes blackly, sardonic sense of humor. Over their head, most people don't get my humor, but she did. She thinks me funny. That's okay. I can be her clown. I'll play the fool for her, if she'll stay with me a little longer, if she'll seek me out again to talk to me while walking together through the dog park.

# # #

I loved it when she paid me the attention worthy of her smile. I loved it when she laughed. She had such a musical laugh, a laugh that made me involuntarily laugh with her. I so enjoy her happiness that I basked in her joy. She made my day whenever I saw her smiling and beautiful face, again.

If she wasn't beautiful enough before, when she smiled, she became even more beautiful. Her smile made me hunger for her and want her even more. Never have I seen a more beautiful woman. Never have I seen a woman with the face of a model and the body of a porn star.

'Don't stare,' I reminded myself. 'Don't stare at her; I had to keep thinking to myself, so that I wouldn't make a complete ass of myself. Play it cool. Stay calm. Relax, don't say anything stupid and whatever you do, don't embarrass her by making a pass at her,' I thought.

To my favor, whenever she saw me, she'd wave and come running over to me. She made me feel special when she did that. She made me feel that I was her man and she was my woman. My memory suddenly launched back to one of those old, Irish Spring, soap commercials, where two lovers run toward one another through the heather to embrace in a tender kiss.

I sexually fantasized running towards her and embracing her. I imagined her looking up at me while I stared down at her. Then, a magical moment that I knew would never happen, I imagined kissing her. I imagined parting her soft lips with my tongue and French kissing her. Then, not stopping with just one kiss, I imagined making out with her while feeling her everywhere that an older man should never touch and feel a younger woman through her clothes.

# # #

Sexually exciting me, I loved watching her run. I loved watching her huge breasts bounce up and down and side to side. She had quite the rack. She had huge tits. If I was to guess, she probably had at least a double D cup. She had shapely breasts that I dreamt about every night, when I'm alone with her in my thoughts and feeling as horny as I felt lonely.

I imagined her running towards me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and pressing her lips against mine in a long, wet, passionate kiss. If I closed my eyes while slowly stroking my erect, naked prick, I could almost feel her tongue against mine. I could almost feel her body pressed against mine. Only, it wasn't me who she wanted to see. Unfortunately, it was my dog. She loved my dog so much that she made me wish that I was him.

'He's the cutest thing, ever,' she said, scooping him up in her arms against her huge breasts and off the ground to give him a big hug and a kiss on his head. 'Polo, I love you. You're so sweet. Do you want to come home with me?'

'Yes, I'd love to go home with you,' I thought while wishing she'd press me against her huge breasts and kiss me on my head.

Yes, I nearly involuntarily said, while wishing I could lick her face in the way that my dog had licked her face. Who said dogs are dumb? My dog was wicked smart to be as attracted to her as much as I was.

She made me wish that I was a dog, a dog my owners had named me Polo, so that she'd think me cute, too, and scoop me up in her arms. I was jealous over the attention and affection that my dog received from her. Watching him lick her face made me want to lick her everywhere, too.

I loved the sound of her womanly voice, soft and feminine without being high pitched and too girlish. I couldn't imagine her nagging me in that sexy voice, yet, if she did, whatever she asked me to do, I'd obediently obey. I wouldn't care. I'd be sexually submissive to her, just to hear her talk. I'd do whatever she wanted me to do for the chance of being with her.

And she was smart, too, a college graduate working towards her master's degree in special education. I couldn't help but wonder, what's wrong with her? Surely, she must have faults, perhaps, an errant strand of hair, a hangnail, or a crooked toe. No one can be this perfect.

# # #

She loved my dog because with all the running through the fields and frolicking down by the water, my dog wore out her dog. It's a rare dog that can wear out a Golden Retriever, but her dog was no match for the speed, agility, and endurance of my long legged Rat Terrier. Born to run, he loved to run.

Polo was the new breed of Rat Terrier. Instead of breeding a Manchester Terrier, a Beagle, and a Fox Terrier, the new breed of Rat Terrier is bred with a Manchester Terrier, a Whippet, and an Italian Greyhound. Polo had the elegant poise and grace of the Manchester Terrier with the long legged speed and endurance of a Whippet and the narrow bodied agility of the Italian Greyhound. The closest dog to a mutt, but a short haired, non-allergic, pedigree without having all the health issues of a purebred, he's a wonderful dog and a great companion, even with children.

I walked with Maureen the distance of the three mile loop that was the dog park behind Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts. Sometimes, going twice around whenever the time and energy allowed, she made me wish that I was 20 years younger. Still, the difference in our ages didn't stop me from being her friend and from taking her away with me in my masturbation, sexual fantasies, and my dreams that night, or whenever I was alone, lonely, and horny.

With the sexual memory always remaining with me, the essence of her always stayed with me. Her smell, her smile, and her bright, beautiful, green eyes haunted me. She was always with me in my thoughts, until I saw her again. Every time I saw her, she excited me as if it was the first time meeting her. Head over heels, I was already in love with her.

'I love you, Maureen,' I imagined saying to her.

I imagined scooping her up in my arms and passionately kissing her.