Plaid Ties and Neon Lace

I chuckled when her hand smeared around the wet mess off my cock and into the pubes above. Then her hand moved to cup my balls. Leaning back, I closed my eyes and let her massage me. I was super sensitive and she knew that to judge by the delicate touch.

"I love it when a guy is wet with my juices. It's so nasty. I love it; it makes me feel like such a slut to touch it like this." From the way she said it, I knew she was still hot and more than ready to go back to being fucked. And the more she handled me the closer I knew I was going to get. Age stereotypes be damned, a horny naked woman talking sexy in your ear tops Viagra and Cialis any day for instant cock fix a flat.

"Want to continue here or maybe head back to my place?" I asked. "As you know, I have a very nice bed and I make breakfast in the morning."

"Umm ... I think once more here then yes, please carry me home." Abigail tightened her hand on the growing hardness she stroked. "I loved waking up in your bed, even if I didn't know where I was."

Kissing her, I nodded. "I can do that."

"ABIGAIL CASIN!"

As her fathers' voice killed the music and Abigail's eyes went wide as saucers, my hard-on died in her fingers. Then I was in the middle of a storm of legs, arms, swinging hands, and flying clothes as Abigail tumbled off my lap and began to try and get dressed.

"ABIGAIL!" The voice of my companies' vice president was closer this time. "I KNOW YOU"RE HERE! GET OUT HERE, NOW!"

"Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit," she said over and over as she dressed.

I tried to grab her hand before she ran out the curtain but Abigail's fingertips just brushed mine. With her father still raging and the music dying, my sigh was loud in my ears as I stood up and tried to fix the disarrayed of my clothes. Even as I dressed I was not sure what to do. I could hear my boss now screaming at Abigail. I could hear no responses from his daughter but I could picture her, chin down, eyes on the floor. Her normal meek "work-a-day-self" coming to bury the blue hair party girl under layers of parental guilt.

His words, unemotionally cold as they were, echoed my own father's long ago more malice-ridden comments.

"How dare you shame our family?"

"How do you think you're ever going to earn a living looking like this?"

"You're a disgrace!"

"You're worthless."

When I stepped through the curtain and into the dance hall, I saw that my imagination was far too close to accurate. Mark Casin towered over his daughter, standing like some avenging angel of fire, smoke and fury come to smite the sinner child before him.

Memory pain flashed phantom-like through my jaw, where such "smiting" had been done to me. I knew, in my bones knew, that Mark Casin was not the type of man to hit a woman, let alone his own daughter. Certainly not in public. But I could see that his words were hitting her with emotional blows as hard as fists. And those words were raining down upon her head one after another.

"Worthless." "Disgraceful" Then the right hook "You weren't raised this way, young lady."

"Good word choice there, Mark." Why I chose to confront him I'm not entirely sure, but it felt ... right. "Young lady. Not child. Not girl. But young lady."

Mr. Casin's eyes cut to me in surprise that anyone here dares speak to him. His anger flared seeing me as I was dressed but, then as I stepped closer, there developed a puzzling look, searching for recognition. The lights in here were dim enough that I was unrecognized till I stepped within five feet of him. "Jimbo?"

"He doesn't like that name." I heard Abigail said, not much more than a whisper. I'm sure her father missed it.

My lip quirked in distaste, I nodded. Though Mark Casin didn't realize I was doing I moved between him and his daughter, edging her back with a gentle nudge of my elbow.

"What the hell are you supposed to be, Jimbo?" He looked me up and down. "Halloween isn't for a few months. Bit early to be playing dress up isn't it?"

I ignored his question. I glanced to his daughter drawing his eyes.

"Young lady. That's what she is Mark. And as much as you still see your little girl, she's not." I eyed the casual clothes he had on, Brooks Brothers slacks, tassel-topped shoes and a buttoned down oxford cloth shirt. I had never seen him out of a suit; he looked weaker. "It's kinda past time to cut out the 'Overprotective Daddy' act and let her live her own life."

His mouth opened and closed a few times but no words came out. So I spoke for him.

"It's hard isn't it, Mark. Seeing those we love moving away from us. Going off on their own, making foolish choices. Doing stupid things; we so badly want to grab back their hands and tell them the stove is hot. Right? Well, this," I held out my hands to encompass the rave. "Is one of Abigail's. She's here doing things she probably shouldn't. And here you come running to snatch her back before she gets hurt, right? But then she will never learn that the stove is hot."

"Jimbo-"

"NOS!" both of us looked at Abigail as she screamed at her father. "His name is Nos."

"What? Now look here little girl-"

"No Mark, you look here." I moved over blocking his view of his daughter. I saw his anger flare-up white hot, directed solely at me now. Which was what I had wanted, right? "You came here to bring your daughter home; well Abigail doesn't want to go. She's having a good time. Living. Enjoying life." I threw my arms wide and raised my voice in the silence. "That can sing both high and low- Every wise man's daughter doth know- Sweet and twenty, youth's a stuff will not endure. Carpe frikin' diem, Mark."

He looked at me stunned, still speechless, even as a small cheer was raised by the kids around us. After a second he licked his lips and took a breath, clearly about to speak, so I interrupted him.

"Get you a beer from the bar, Mark. Then go home and let your daughter get on with enjoying her life."

"YOU'RE" FIRED!"

I laughed in his face. Probably not the best idea, but since I had been expecting that out his mouth, it wasn't a surprised. Mark was spitting mad, emphasis on the spitting part. Still smiling at his anger, I shook my head.

"You're going to fire me while we are not at work? For something not work related? After I just saved Mr. Brandon ten million on the Geiger account?" At the contemptuous look in his eyes, I smiled again. "News flash for you, Marky Mark ... I don't give a fuck. I can make two phone calls and have a job every bit as good. Give me a week and I can have an even better one. Brandon, Wilcox, and Smith gave me my start, so I've tried to remain loyal. But, hey." I flipped both hands off in his face. "This is Brazil!"

The crowd of youngsters around me got the Fast Five reference even if it when over Mark's head. They erupted in cheers and laughter. My now ex-boss' eyes narrowed. I could see it, the desire to take a swing. Then he cut his eyes to Abigail.

"Let's go."

Her fingers closing on the back of my vest was all I needed. "She's not going, Mark."

He took a step towards me. "She's my daughter, Jimbo. She will go where I tell her."

"Not tonight." I eyed him up and down, letting my disgust show now. "Maybe not ever again. She doesn't want to leave. And that's enough for me."

"Abigail, I'm warning you-" he began but I stopped him flat, pulling his attention back to me.

"No Mark, I'm warning you. This is not going to end the way you want." I took a deep breath. It had been a decade since I had been in a fight but ... I would lay good odds I've left a more blood on dirty dance floors than my ex-boss.

"Stay the hell out of this, Jimbo! This is not your fuckin' business." His finger was in my face. "She's my daughter! I'll damn well not let a ... whatever the hell you are, tell me what she will and won't do!"

"Then I will not use words."

Inside I smiled as I heard Abigail's voice, she stepped around me speaking to her father and I had to look at her father over her blue head. I could never have been prouder.

"Go home, Daddy. I love you, but I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Young lady-"

"No, Daddy." Abigail shook her head. "I'm staying. This is where I want to be."

I watched the play of different emotion ripple across Mark Casin's face. Betrayal, hate, anger, pain, doubt. The worry for his daughter was there, true, but then he looked over her head and saw me watching him and his face flashed back to betrayal.

"Then stay!"

Watching the back of the vice president of the company I had given such a chunk of my life too, knowing I had just burned so many bridges, was a gut punch.

"I need a drink," I said letting out a long deep breath.

"I think I need a hell of a lot more than that." I noticed that she had begun to shake. "Oh my god, what have I just done?"

"Grown up. You just took the very last step. One that a lot of people never take. Hey, it will be okay. I promise." I held open my arms, pulling her into a hug as she began to cry. "It's okay. It had to happen, better it be on your terms."

Several of the young people at the rave, friends of Abigail's, gathered to her then. Hands began to reach in to touch her, soft voices telling her it was going to be alright. She looked up and saw all the love gathering about her and hugged me all the tighter.

It was very late when we left the club.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

There had been a cab. I'm sure of that. There had been a ride in a cab.

Éponine was perched on the foot of the bed, her head turned to the side looking at my bedmate's tiny feet. Looking down the length of naked Abigail, I could understand my cat's curiosity. This bed was not normally graced with angels. I absently let my fingers caress her hip, following the curve to her side and across her ribs. She awoke with a startling amount of energy, flipping over to face me.

"Tickles! Quidditch!"

That, of course, got me laughing. Which made her start trying to tickle me.

Then Éponine pounced us both!

"AHCH! Bad kitty!"

Abigail grabbed the sheet and pulled it over her head, not knowing that was a favorite game of Éponine's. The big cat went for the object hiding under the sheet like it was the source of the red dot she so often chased. Scooping up the huge cat, I turned her to face me, nose to nose.

"Bad huntress. No eating the guests." I swung my legs off the side of the bed and stood up. "I'll be right back, she's hungry."

Abigail nodded, her eyes just above the edge of the sheet.

I was halfway to the kitchen when the hangover slapped me in the mouth with a wet carp, reminding me just how much I had drunk the night before and that the consequences of that was here. I sat Éponine down and let her meow along behind me as I went to the fridge for some cold water.

"Yuck!"

"Meow!"

"Yes, yes, you greedy thing. Give me a moment to get the dead horse's ass taste out my mouth." I grabbed her a can of cat food and tried to hold down my water as the smell of what the hell ever was in that can hit my nose. "Oh, gods. Only for the love of you would I do this. Here, Huntress. Din-din time."

"Meow."

Grabbing Abigail some water as well, I headed back.

"Oh ... damn."

Stopping in my bedroom door, I looked in applicative wonder at Abigail. She had thrown back the sheet and was lying on my bed with her legs parted. She grinned seeing my reaction.

"So we don't eat the guests here?"

Smiling, I walked to the foot of the bed and looked down at her. "In your case, I'll certainly make an exception." I let my eyes roam up her body from those delicate feet to the tips of her blue hair. "You are stunningly beautiful."

Blushing, she teased a nipple. Then she bit her bottom lip and looked me over just as thoroughly. I enjoyed her appreciative smile, been a long time since a woman looked at me with that look in her eyes. Her hand eased down her body, past her pierced navel and then crossing into a place that made my breathing come faster. Abigail's legs widened and her fingers parted her lips, separating soft lips that I so badly wanted to kiss. To lick.

"Please ... Nos."

Looking up at her face, I saw the need in her eyes. Slowly a smile brushed my lips and then turned into a grin. "Oh, lovely, this is absolutely going to be my pleasure."

Her blush was a delight in and of itself.

Settling myself between her open legs I kept my eyes on hers the whole time, enjoying her nervousness. I could read the thoughts on her face. Will he like it? Am I clean enough? Will I be sweet? And as my lips lightly brushed her open labia, I gave her a wink. Slipping my arms under her ass I pulled her into my mouth in a rush that earned me a squeak. With my hands gripping her waist I let my tongue trace a path through her, brushing her open to access her pussy more openly.

Oh, but Abigail was like sweet water. Wet and crisp tasting on my tongue, like a juicy apple. She moaned my name, begging me for something she was already too far gone into pleasure to name. I didn't need to know anyway, I already knew what she wanted.

Letting my tongue follow a teasing path, I moved from the wickedly hot depths of her pussy to the growing bud of nerves at the top. Her fingers laced themselves in my hair trying to pull me closer. Not that it was needed. When her clit passed between my lips and I began to suck on her I could not have been pried off Abigail's pussy with a crowbar. Memories of dozens upon dozens of nights with my face in similar situations flashed through my mind.

Oh, how many woman had I buried my face into over the years? Some were a delight to the tongue and nose; some would make a gynecologist run screaming. Some were gentle ladies who caressed my head softly making purring sounds as I devoured her. And then there were the aggressive biker-bitch heavy-metal headbanger type ladies who's pussies would be more at home in a Mad Max movie. The "Eat me now or die, you fucker!" type vaginas.

But Abigail, oh my goodness Abigail. She was an utter delight to go down on. Her body gave my senses all the pheromone urging I needed. Her labia were slick with her juices and they were delicious. But then, when I licked into her depths, they became a bitter-sweet syrup that I could have lapped at for days without ever getting my fill of. And her burbling moans were equally fun. She moaned, gasped and cried out, clawing at my scalp, nails digging into my skin. I could not tell if she was having mini orgasms or if her normal body's response to oral was a continual orgasmic pleasure. She never seemed to reach a peak and ease down, no matter how long I devoured her sweet sex.

When my mouth began to grow tired I changed to soft kisses and licking that eased the ache for me and changed gears for her. She seemed to enjoy everything. Be it relaxed or frantic she rode my mouth to whatever pace I set.

Then she sat up and began to pull at my shoulders.

"Nos, please. I need you inside me. Now, please now."

Crawling between her legs at her urging, I leaned off the side of the bed to my nightstand. Practice made getting a condom out and on was the effort of but moments. She watched me with ill-concealed haste. She would not have cared if I had plunged into her bare to the world, a practice I was going to get her out of in the coming months.

That stopped me in mid thrust as it were.

I was planning a long term relationship with this girl. Not consciously, true, but somewhere in the back of my mind I was already planning her and me being together for, well certainly, more than this moment of carnal pleasure. Even as I slipping into her, I was thinking of what life with Abigail would be like. We were certainly years apart in life. Was even such a gap in age bridgeable in the long term? Oh, I know about men with midlife crises syndrome chasing teen girls. Trying to recapture their own lost youth.

I was ball deep in Abigail when I realized I was doing that very thing.

"Oh, damn," I said.

Been a long time since I was in my young twenties, but the feeling of a woman that age, the youthful tightness of her pussy gripping me, was a near-forgotten memory. Oh hell and damn all but she was tight.

"Oh, Nos."

"Feel good?" I asked, giving a harder thrust to make her moan.

"You feel wonderful. You fill me just perfectly." She laced her arms behind my neck pulling me closer. "Come here. I love a man on top of me; it's like having a warm blanket holding me down while I'm being fucked."

With her all wet and lithe squirming around under me I had to grunt my agreement since a grunt was about all I could manage by that point. Her mumbling sweet nothings into my ear, as I thrust into her, was a delight but it also was driving me more and more quickly towards my orgasm. Oh, I wanted to come, certainly. I needed to do that in such a terribly bad way. But, at the same time, I wanted it to last for hours. Days. Years.

That thought brought me back to the longer term thing. Was I seriously thinking about spending years with this girl? What about as we age? I was going to be looking at my late middle years before Abigail was even well into her thirties.

And what would life be like?

"Nos?"

Opening my eyes, I looked down into her face, so close to mine it was blurred. She absently brushed my hair back from my face.

"You were a long way off." She gave me an understanding smile. "Worry about all that stressful shit tomorrow. Right now all you have to do is come in me. Nothing more than that." She bit her bottom lip, and then hooked her legs behind my ass. "Fuck me."

Well, with such polite urging.

Catching her leg behind her knee, I opened Abigail up a bit wider. Moving to a crouch, I drove my cock into her with snaps of my hips that bottomed me out inside her. With every thrust, she gave me a gaspy grunt, then small screams. Oh, yes how sweet to be inside a young woman again.

And the novelty that I was sober was nice as well.

Most of those older moments had a fuzzy quality to them. This one was going to be crystal clear. Clear as her glassy bright eyes, filled with lust and carnal desire. She was hunching her hip up off the bed, driving her pussy up the length of me, making my every thrust hit all the harder. A young dancer's body giving me all that my middle-aged runner's frame and endurance could take and give back.

Her fingers on my back were raking the skin as she got closer to a building moment of bliss. I was far too close to my own. I was thinking of every non-erotic thought I could push into my head to keep me from coming. I was possibly too far past that point, but I had to try. I wanted Abigail to have an orgasm before I did, but it was going to be a very close thing. Then I realized that she was already coming. Her legs were twitching, shaking in my hands. Her mouth was opened in a silent scream. As vocal as she had been up to this point, I was expecting a Valkyrie scream but she orgasmed silently.

Can't say I was as silent.

Feeling as if I was emptying all of myself into her I was locked, for several long seconds, in a rigid spasm, while she caressed me with delicate hands and urged me on with sweet encouragements.

The very last of my strength was required to roll off of her and crash to the side of the bed next to her. Abigail instantly plastered herself to my side, cuddling up against me. She nuzzled her face into my chest while her hand rested on my heaving stomach. I gasped for a few shallow breaths before slowing down and sucking down several deep lungfuls. The air was filled with the smell of sex, sweat, and her perfume. My nose was already dead to my cologne. She sat up enough to give me a kiss then giggled.

"Damn, I'm all over your face."

I grinned. "I don't mind."

Abigail rested her head back on my chest. "So ... what were you thinking so hard about in the middle? It got really weird there for a few. You were like some sort of autopilot fucking machine. Scared me a bit till I saw your face, how blank you looked."