Loading...My name is Nicholas Ichabous Crane Evanston. I’ll spare you the long drawn out story of how I got that ridiculous name. The short version is that my dad saddled me with that long name so I would never forget the acronym, and always be NICE to people.
Sometimes big stories have small beginnings, my story started at a CVS Pharmacy in a small town in North Carolina. I was in town to oversee a six month construction job and was having a pretty crappy day, so I dropped in for a sugar fix at the pharmacy near the work site.
As I plopped down my bag of caramels in front of the girl at the checkout, she smiled ever so slightly at me and said “these are my favorite.”
“Well, we have that in common, CVS girl,” I answered. She half blushed, she seemed fairly shy. I had no intentions, she was half my age at least, and was not particularly attractive anyway. Her hair was tucked in under a hat and she was wearing some horrific polyester uniform that rendered her virtually shapeless. She wore thick black rimmed glasses but kept her head down so I couldn’t really see her eyes. In a word, she was dowdy. She did have an intriguing skin tone, a hint of a darker shade that suggested she may have had mixed race parents.
She took my money, worked the register and managed to get the change in my hand without ever really looking up, it was difficult to tell if she was shy or in a bad mood. I took my change and was almost out the door when I had a sudden notion. I popped the bag open, took out a caramel, and brought it back to the register checkout, and set the caramel down in front of her.
She looked up with a look that combined gratitude and surprise, showing me her eyes for the first time, and it was my turned to be surprised. In my entire life I had never seen a pair of eyes that came close to hers, to this day I find them hard to describe. They were mostly the color of honey, but there seemed to be flecks of green and brown and even blue. Even through the glasses they were bright and alive like no eyes I’d ever seen. They were weird and beautiful at the same time.
I nodded and smiled at her and started to turn away when she spoke. “Would you like to get a CVS customer card?” she said carefully, almost embarrassed.
I grinned and couldn’t resist poking fun. “You mean I don’t get the option unless I give you candy?” I said.
She blushed. “No, I forgot to ask, I’m supposed to ask everyone, if I give out enough cards I get a bonus,” she answered. “But I’m not very good at asking.”
As a rule, I avoided the customer reward cards offered at grocery stores and pharmacies, something about it feels like I’m being stalked by a big box retailer. But for some reason I agreed. I had been raised from an early age to never miss an opportunity to be nice to someone.
“Sure, what the hell,” I said. “How much will I save on caramels with a CVS card?”
“The more you buy, the more rewards you build up,” she said methodically, no doubt repeating the standard line from the company book. “I just need to get some information from you. What is your full name?”
I hesitated, as was my custom before giving my name, before answering slowly. “Nicholas. Ichobus. Crane. Evanston.”
Her pen stopped writing and I saw her face go ashen. My guess was she figured I was making up a name to play a joke on her.
“No really,” I said. “It really is Nicholas Ichobus Crane Evanston.”
Her pen still remained silent, and she seemed almost in crestfallen shock. I imagined that if I were her and someone gave me a name like that I’d think they were playing a game on me too.
“I know it’s hard to believe, it’s a long story,” I said. I pulled my license out of my wallet and showed it to her.
She looked at it carefully, seemed to read it two or three times, before I saw her take a long, slow deep breath and then begin writing the name with a trembling hand. At the time, I thought she was maybe too fragile to handle someone playing a joke on her, maybe suspicious of strangers with weird names.
I finished giving her all the information she needed and she got me signed up and gave me the card, which I stuck in my pocket and figured I’d throw away later. I thanked her and tried to make her smile as I took the card, but she just watched me with an odd look as I walked towards the door. I was nearly out the door when I turned back.
“Say, what do I get for using this card?” I asked.
“The more you buy, the more rewards you build up,” she said again.
“Well, if I build up enough, I’ll buy you dinner,” I joked as I walked out the door. As I reached my car I realized just how bad that sounded. I had meant to say I would give her money for dinner, but it probably sounded like I was suggesting I would take her out to dinner. If I was a twenty-something clerk at a CVS and a forty-something guy had asked me to dinner, I’d be creeped out, and I’m sure she was.
For some reason the whole episode stuck in my mind, and for the next several days I kept randomly thinking about the CVS girl. I kept visualizing those amazingly unique eyes, and wondering if she still thought I was lying to her about my name.
Before I knew it I had burned through the whole bag of caramels and found myself parked outside the CVS. I walked in and was glad to see she was at the register, and I thought I saw her face brighten just a bit when she saw me. I picked up some caramels and a few other items and made my way to the register.
“Do you have a CVS card?” she asked me as she rang me up.
“Ah…yes,” I replied, a little hurt that she didn’t remember and a little surprised that I had actually kept the card.
She glanced up quickly and smirked just a bit, almost like she was enjoying an inside joke. “I remember, how could I forget Nicholas Ichobus Crane Evanston?” she said.
I chuckled, both relieved and impressed she remembered. “You can call me Nick,” I said. I popped open the caramels and slid one over to her.
She thanked me with a slight smile and opened up the caramel immediately, opening her mouth and slipping the candy in quickly. I couldn’t help but notice that her lips looked soft and warm and just the right size and shape, and I almost got so carried away watching her chew. I caught myself just shy of staring and headed towards the door, wishing her a good day.
After that, the CVS girl and I developed a regular routine, every four days or so I would drop in, buy some caramels and a few other items, give her one of the caramels and engage in some chit chat. Always generic, never personal, mostly about the weather or the headlines in the tabloid news by the register. Each time she seemed a little bit more relaxed, and eventually she reached the point where she wouldn’t turn her eyes down when we talked. She always called me Nicholas Ichobus Crane Evanston, despite my best efforts to get her to call me Nick. I always called her CVS girl.
I have no idea what it was, but something about her captured my attention in a weird way. When I was at the store talking to her it was just two acquaintances making small talk, and she seemed to be just a plain, ordinary girl. But after I left I’d get hung up thinking about her, evaluating what was said and how she looked at me. And in my imagination, she was always much more attractive.
I started liking the routine. Four days turned into two days, and I had gotten so sick of caramels that I was cramming them into my glove compartment. I found myself getting nervous and excited about my next trip to the CVS, and would leave almost giddy. As I saw her more and more, the CVS girl gradually changed from looking dowdy to being charmingly simple. She seemed to be one of those girls who never wore make up or did anything with their hair, and if they half tried they might be attractive. The odd thing about my routine is that I would go in excited and leave giddy, but by the time I got to my car I was wondering why I was so interested in a dowdy clerk half my age, and why on earth I thought she might be somehow interested in me.
I was over a dozen trips in before the subject of the dinner came back up. I had nearly forgotten about it.
The CVS girl had rang me up and taken my card, and as I opened up the bag of caramels and gave her one, I wondered out loud about the benefits of the CVS card.
She checked something in the register that miraculously reveals the rewards benefits and popped the caramel in her mouth. “Well, you have accumulated $30 in rewards bonuses,” she said. “That’s about halfway to that dinner you promised.”
I didn’t have time to fully process what she had said, and like a fool I spoke too soon. “I don’t think this town even has any restaurants that would cost you $30 for a meal,” I said. “Where are you planning on going?”
She blushed and seemed nervous, and I immediately began thinking about what I had said.
“I, ah, I thought that we…,” her voice trailed off, and I realized with a bit of a shock, and a thrill, that she had thought we would be going to dinner together.
I saved the both of us, just in time. “I’m kidding,” I said. “I want to build up the rewards bonuses so I can take you someplace nice.”
She nodded in relief that I had bailed her out, and I nodded in relief that she wanted to go to dinner with me. I walked out of the CVS on cloud nine. I had a big dinner date with the young CVS girl, and all I had to do was build up my rewards bonuses to a respectable level and it was on.
That night I dreamed about going to the CVS. I was at the register with the CVS girl buying a bag of caramels. She looked very different, dressed sexy and with makeup. I unwrapped the caramel for her and held it out to her, but instead of taking it from me she took hold of my hand and lifted it to her mouth. She slid the caramel into her mouth but also took one of my fingers with it, and then two, and she closed her eyes and moaned softly as she slid my fingers in and out of her mouth. I could sense myself not breathing as I stood mesmerized. In the dream, my fingers had become super sensitive, and I could not only intensely feel her soft mouth on my skin, I could also taste the cherry flavored lipstick. Then she looked up at me and her eyes had become glowing warm embers, and before I knew what had happened she was naked and on the counter. I looked down and my hand had become a giant cock, and she was lavishing it with licks and kisses. Gradually the cock became my entire arm, and then my whole body was just one large 6’2″ cock, and she had her legs wrapped around me and she was holding me tightly and writhing around, almost like a giant stripper pole. My whole body was one big cock, and my whole body felt the throbbing sensations of a coming orgasm, and then wham. I woke up with a hot cock and a cold sweat.
I spent the next week coming into CVS every day, sometimes when she wasn’t even there, building on my rewards points. I bought a lifetime supply of everything from toilet paper to cough drops, and always another bag of caramels. I was in real danger of becoming the CVS customer of the month, and the caramel customer of the year.
By Thursday of the next week I was getting really close to $60 in rewards points, which was my unofficial goal. I came to her register with an assortment of groceries I’d never eat, some assorted medical supplies I didn’t need, and a bag of caramels that I didn’t want. She giggled as she rang up the assortment of items.
“I’m starting to think you really want to take me to dinner,” she said.
It was my turn to blush. I already had a line ready, I had been rehearsing. “It would be the greatest reward CVS could offer,” I said.
She looked at me with those intriguing eyes, smiling. “Your rewards points are now at $65, Nicholas Ichobus Crane Evanston,” she said.
“Well then, can I take you to dinner Saturday night?” I asked nervously. “I’ll have to rely on your recommendation, I don’t know any good places.”
She smiled again and nodded, writing something down on a piece of paper. “I will meet you here, at 8 pm Saturday night,” she said.
One time when I was 15 years old, I asked a girl to a dance in Junior High School and when she said yes, I nearly passed out I was so nervous and thrilled. I felt that same feeling coming back to me now, standing in front of the CVS counter. Somehow I managed to pay the bill and get out the door without saying anything stupid. I walked out and sat in my car for 20 minutes letting my blood pressure go down.
For the next two days, I spent much of my time fantasizing about the CVS girl. I visualized us walking along the beach on a moonlit night. She was dressed in a thin white dress showing off a gorgeous body I had never seen. We’d stop underneath the pilings of a pier, and she would lean back against me and we would become lost in a deep, passionate kiss, my hands softly caressing her breasts. The fantasies were always followed by a self imposed reality check. She was just going to dinner with me. She probably lived in a trailer park, or at home with her parents, that was why she wanted to meet me at the restaurant. Chances are she thought I was just a nice old guy, and she wasn’t remotely interested in becoming intimate. She would think it was creepy I was fantasizing about her.
Still, when Saturday night rolled around I was as nervous as a beagle in a vacuum cleaner factory. I arrived at the restaurant 20 minutes early, then turned around and drove around in circles for 10 minutes so I wouldn’t be too early. The restaurant was a short drive off the main road, a plain looking, rustic establishment in the middle of nowhere down a dirt road. Apparently it was big with the locals, there were lots of cars around.
I walked in and got a table for two, I was lucky enough to score the last table with a window seat, and when I sat down I realized why the restaurant was so popular. It had an unexpectedly gorgeous view of the river, and the summer sun was showcasing a glorious sunset over the water. I could only enjoy it for a few seconds though, as my attention turned to the door as I awaited for the arrival of the CVS girl.
At five minutes until 8, I started to get an odd feeling. I pulled out the piece of paper she had given me with the name and address of the restaurant, and confirmed I was in the right place. I was sure she had said 8 pm. I took a deep breath and tried to relax, turned away from the door for a while to calm my nerves.
At 8:05, my eyes were back towards the door. My mind reeled with different scenarios. She was too shy to come out in public. She forgot. The whole thing was a joke, she’s probably with a half dozen friends laughing about it.
At 8:10, after nodding the waiter off again, my heart was in free fall. Whatever it was, the CVS girl was not coming. I looked out at the beautiful view one more time. I glanced around the restaurant, no one coming in. There was one girl walking towards me, a rather sharply dressed young girl with a bountiful head of dark curly hair. As she approached my table the thought crossed my mind that she was the hostess and was there to tell me they would be needing the table for actual diners.
I didn’t really look at her until she got to the table, but when I did look my heart stopped. If not for her eyes, I would not have known it was her smiling at me. The CVS girl.
I started and tried to get to my feet, banging my knees into the table and nearly knocking over the water glasses.
“Wow, hello, wow,” I stammered.
She grinned back at me. Everything about her was different, from her clothes to her manner. She was confident, poised, dressed in a crisp white blouse and a mid-thigh gray skirt that showed off some amazing legs that the polyester CVS outfit had kept hidden. The blouse was opened up just enough to show a hint of cleavage, and it was tucked in just tight enough to show that she had a great body. Her hair had always been pinned up at the CVS, but now it was let down into lovely curls that framed her face, which for the first time had no thick black horned rimmed glasses and had a hint of makeup that turned her from dowdy to head turning.
Or head spinning, which is what was happening to me. One minute I thought I was being stood up, the next minute I’m sitting across from a suddenly beautiful woman. Of all the clever things I had planned to say, nothing came to mind. Thankfully she spoke up.
“I apologize for being late,” she said. “I guess I can’t blame it on the traffic.”
“No, it’s a pretty light traffic area,” I managed. “This is a neat little restaurant, kind of a local secret I guess?”
“Yes, we don’t like sharing our secret places,” she smiled. “So I’ll have to kill you later.”
I appreciated the opportunity to laugh, I was trying to act natural about her transformation. But I just couldn’t help myself. “You look….absolutely amazing,” I said. “Very…different.”
“Well this is the first time you’ve seen me outside work,” she said. “I dress down at work so the dirty old men won’t hit on me all the time.”
I nearly choked on the water I was sipping and was grateful that the waiter came over. Before I could speak up, she had ordered us a bottle of wine and chosen two entrees, to which I nodded sheepishly in agreement.
The next hour was a blur. She insisted on talking about me, asking me questions and deflecting most anything I asked about her. I told her all about my life, how I was divorced, a loner, pretty much unknown to the world. The food was fantastic, the chat was light and friendly, and I had pretty much determined that by her actions and conversation that she viewed our “date” more like a “dinner with a friend.” Which was fine, since my divorce 5 years previous I had not been involved with a woman and intended to keep it that way. My relationships only existed in dreams and fantasies, and this would be another one. I felt fortunate enough having dinner with a fun, beautiful woman, I didn’t need more.
I was enjoying it so much, in fact, that I didn’t notice that most of the restaurant had cleared out and it was near closing time. I looked around for the waiter but couldn’t find him.
“I guess I’ll track the waiter down and get the check,” I said.
“That’s ok, I already took care of it,” said the CVS girl.
I felt a rush of guilt and surprise. The bill had to be well over $50, that would be a big hit on her. She must’ve worked out arrangements with the waiter to pay it when I wasn’t paying attention.
“You can’t do that, this is my treat,” I said. “I really have to insist, I’ll pay.”
“Too late, already done,” she said. “You can pay next time.”
The idea of a next time had not crossed my mind, and when it did I felt too thrilled to argue, so I just went along.
“I do need to ask one favor,” she said. “I got a ride here, so I need to get a ride home from you if I could.”
“It would be my pleasure,” I said.
We walked out to the car and I followed her directions. We ended up 10 miles out in the middle of nowhere, driving down a long thin road. I was expecting to come up on a trailer park, but the end of the road opened up into a tiny, well kept yard and a small cottage flanked by woods. I stopped the car in the drive in front of the white picket fence leading to the door. It was quiet and dark, except for the light on the door. I wondered if she felt safe living out here in the woods, if she lived alone or if there were others living her with her.
We chatted a while and I was beginning to feel the awkwardness of wondering what was expected of me. I was wondering if she wanted to chat some more or if I should go ahead and walk her to the door. She swiftly resolved the question.
“I’d like for you to come in for a moment, there is something I’d like to show you,” she said.
I nodded and we stepped out of the car, my mind dissecting what a moment was, and what she intended to show me. I still felt like if I made any kind of pass at her I would suddenly find that the idea of anything intimate was not a remote possibility.
When we walked through the front door, the charming cottage became something entirely different. The door opened up into a expansively open, tastefully decorated space with a gourmet kitchen over to one side and several sliding glass doors opening up onto a elevated deck. Lights on the deck illuminated a breathtaking view of the river. I had no idea we were close to the water, the woods in front of the house had hidden it. I couldn’t help but wonder what the rent on a place like this was, and how she could afford it.
“Wow,” was all I could think to say. I know my mouth was hanging open. “I hope you’ll excuse me for prying, but does the CVS pay well enough to afford this rent?” I asked.
She gave me a smile that seemed to have changed in my mind from warm to mysterious. “I have other sources of income,” she said.
She walked over to the kitchen and poured us two glasses of wine. “Come over here, I want to show you my favorite room,” she said, walking towards a door near the back of the living area.
Suddenly I felt giddy. She was going to show me her bedroom. She didn’t think I was some dirty old man, she was going to have sex with me. A thousand visions popped up at once.
None of the visions that had popped up matched the room on the other side of the door. It was not a bedroom, it was more like a large closet, with wood paneling on the walls, ceiling, even floors. The only furniture in the room was a small couch facing a large window looking out on the river. She closed the door behind her and guided me over to the couch, were we sat down.
“This is my quiet room,” she said. “This is where I collect my thoughts.”
She reached behind her and flipped a switch, and all the lights in the room and on the deck went dark. In an instant the room was pitch black and quiet. Dark, as in I could not see my hand in front of my face. Quiet, as in no sound, period.
I immediately began to develop some very bad thoughts. I was an out of towner. No one knew I was here. I was in the dark in an unfamiliar area. The bottom line, I had been lured to a remote home by a beautiful young girl, and now I was about to be robbed and killed. I was a sucker. All because I was a nice guy.
I remembered snippets of comments from earlier in the night — “I’ll have to kill you,” she had said. “I have other sources of income,” she had said. “You can pay next time,” she had said. Oh wow, when she said next time, I thought it would be another date, not later the same night. I was going to be a source of income.
I was thinking all this sitting there in the dark, my stomach in a tight knot waiting for something bad to happen. But nothing did happen. I could feel the CVS girl sitting beside me, not moving, softly breathing. There were no other sounds or movements. Impulsively I sipped the wine, then realized it was probably drugged. In the darkness, I began to feel dizzy.
Then she spoke, soothing and low. “This room is why I bought this house,” she said. “I can come in here and turn out the lights and escape the world.”
“You own this house?” I asked, my voice wavering.
“Yes.” She anticipated my next question. “I am actually a writer, I make my money writing books.”
I let this sink in. “So why do you work at the CVS?” I asked.
“I work at the CVS for life experience,” she replied. “Research, interaction with the world, meeting people.”
Now I was starting to feel like an experiment. I wasn’t sure what to say or think, sitting there in the pitch black darkness. The lapses of conversation felt awkward, made me tense up, but it didn’t seem to bother her at all. After a long silence she spoke again.
“I usually come out here to think about stories to write, but tonight I have a story I’d like to tell you,” she said.
I nodded in the darkness, then realized how inane that was and said ok. I felt the CVS girl stand up from the couch and she began her story, walking back and forth in front of me as she told it. Her voice was steady and strong.
“This is the story of a boy, a young teenager named Albert, growing up in Mississippi back in the 70s. He was a black boy, from a poor family that moved around a lot. He moved around so much he always had a hard time fitting in, and got in trouble a lot because of it. One day when he was at school he got into a scuffle with another boy, a white kid, over something silly.
Well later that day, after school, that white boy and four of his friends cornered Albert in a hallway at the school and told him they were going to lynch him. They probably weren’t going to do that, they were just scaring him, but he tried to run and they tackled him and started hitting him.”
She paused a minute for effect. I wasn’t sure what to think, I was half listening to the story and half thinking about how to get out of there.
“Just when it was getting bad for Albert, he saw another boy, another white boy, walking by in overalls. The boy watched Albert getting beat up for a minute, then he kept going. Albert thought he was going to die. Then he saw that boy come back into the hall, and he pulled the fire alarm.”
In a flash, I felt all the blood run out of my face. She was telling a story about ME. I was that kid in overalls that pulled the fire alarm. All I could think was holy shit, what is going on?
She continued. “All those boys got up and ran off, and the principal came running down the hall and caught Albert and the other boy standing near the fire alarm, and they got detention for a week. Funny thing was, all that time in detention hall together, they figured out they had a lot in common. They were both kind of loners, so they got along. Turns out they became best friends, were practically inseparable for a whole year.”
As anxious as I was to find out where this was going, I couldn’t help but smile to remember that. Albert and I were an odd couple, but we were great friends. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever had a better friend.
The CVS girl started again. “The best thing for Albert was, this other boy being his friend made a big difference in his life. For the next four years, Albert stayed out of trouble, did well in school, ended up getting an academic scholarship to college. He also did well in college, and eventually, Albert became a very successful businessman.”
I had never heard what had become of my old friend Albert, so it was nice to hear that he had turned out well. But my overwhelming focus was trying to figure out why she was telling me this story about my own life, and better yet, how she could’ve known about it? I barely remembered the story myself, it had happened over 30 years ago. I was at a total loss to think of anything to say.
She spoke again. “On the night before Albert went off to college, he and his friend were hanging out talking about their crazy times together, and they started talking about the time they first met each other, in the hall when his friend pulled the fire alarm. Albert asked him, ‘what made you decide to come back and pull that fire alarm?'”
I closed my eyes and took myself back to that moment, tried to remember the words but couldn’t. Amazingly, she did know the words.
“He said I….He said you… came back to pull the fire alarm because it was the right thing to do. He said you said your father had always told you to always be nice, and if you need a reminder, just remember your name, that’s why he gave you your name. Nicholas. Ichabous. Crane. Evanston.”
The room was quiet and dark for a moment as the words sunk in and the memories came back. My father had told him from an early age that he had given me the name with a memorable acronym so that I would always remember to be NICE.
“How do you know all of this?” I finally asked.
“I know all of this because Albert Ellison was my father,” she said.
Once again, I was emotionally floored.
“My whole life, I thought that story was just something he made up, until you walked into the CVS and told me your name,” she said.
I had relaxed some, deciding that she probably wasn’t going to kill me. I took a long sip of wine and listened to the silence. “How did you remember that crazy name all these years?” I asked.
She let out a long sigh that sounded like she was smiling. “Because he did something so I would never forget, never forget the name, and never forget to be nice,” she said. “He named me Nikki. Ichobee. Crane. Ellison.”
I felt a flood of emotion, an odd combination of shock and pride. Albert had named his daughter after me, after a moment that changed his life, and suddenly I felt an incredible bond with this young girl I really hardly knew. “Wow,” was all I could think to say.
“Yes, wow,” she said, still standing in front of me in the dark. She struck a match that illuminated the room and lit a pair of candles that were sitting beside the couch. My eyes followed the match as she brought it back to her mouth to blow it out, and as the candles took hold and brought light into the room, I became aware that Nikki had removed her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse. She stood there in front of me, strong, silent, beautifully confident. Her white blouse hung open, showing elegantly simple white silk panties and a matching bra. Absolutely stunning in the candlelight, the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And for some reason I was hesitant to stand and take her in my arms.
“Are you going to have sex with me because I helped your father 30 years ago?” I asked.
“No I am not,” she said, as she stepped forward and began unbuttoning my shirt. “That was a wonderful thing you did, and it made a world of difference for my father and for me.”
She knelt down in front of me and looked up into my eyes as she unfastened my belt and ran her hands slowly and lightly over my stomach and down my thighs.
“I’m going to have sex with you because you are a very nice guy,” she said smiling up at me. “Plus, I think you’re kinda hot.”
The compliment was still sinking in by the time I realized my pants were all the way off and Nikki was gently kissing and licking my cock, which was quickly rising to the occasion. Her honey colored eyes never left mine as she took me in past her lips and deep into her mouth. Her oral style was soft and sweet, with lots of slow sucking and gentle licks and kisses. My fingers found their way into her silky curly hair and I stroked the sides of her face as she slid my cock in and out of her soft wet mouth. Her eyes were so warm and sincere that it felt like we had been lovers forever.
She kissed the top of my cock one more time and then stood up in front of me, showing off her magnificent body as she wiggled out of her panties. Then she stepped forward into my waiting arms, straddling me on the couch, carefully positioning herself above my cock. Slowly, she lowered herself onto me, taking one warm inch at a time until she came to rest in my lap, my cock buried inside her as far as it would go. She moaned and then sighed as we came fully together. The whole time, our eyes never broke contact. Then she leaned in and kissed me, and for the next ten minutes, we stayed in exactly the same position, my arms around her waist, her hands in my hair, our lips in constant contact. I didn’t want to move, it felt so right and I wanted it to last, and I could sense she felt the same.
Then she leaned away, shrugged off her blouse and slipped out of her bra, showcasing her small but perfectly shaped breasts. They were mouth-wateringly beautiful and I immediately gave them the attention they deserved, and she arched her back to allow my mouth easy access. Nikki began to make very gradual movements up and down on my cock. My hands were on her waist, and we began to move slowly together in a comfortable rhythm. We seemed to be somehow completely in tune, neither of us in a hurry. I was amazed at how comfortable I was making love to a much younger woman who I barely knew. It felt so right I didn’t have time to think about it. There was a beautiful, intelligent woman in my arms, glowing in the candlelight. What more could I want?
Our pace gradually became faster and more passionate. I was lifting her up off my waist until she was just at the top of my cock, before letting her slide down the full hard length and filling her up to appreciative sighs. Her eyes met mine and we both seemed to realize that our time was close, and almost simultaneously, we nodded slightly to each other and then she leaned in and kissed me. Our pace quickened even more, staying in a fervent but gentle rhythm. I felt her body tense up and she cried out loudly as I felt my cock explode into her. It seemed like my orgasm lasted for ten minutes, but it was another 20 minutes until my cock finally subsided, and we held each other close for the entire time without uttering a single word.
Finally she leaned back and our eyes met once again. She looked at me with such warmth I really couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Thank you,” I said. “I haven’t had sex since my divorce five years ago.”
Nikki smiled and stroked my chest. “It would certainly appear that you haven’t forgotten how,” she said.
I felt like the luckiest guy on earth, but all I could think about was that this moment had to be a one time thing, just a very warm thank you for something I had done many years ago.
“This night has been incredible,” I said. “Not just the part out here, but I just really enjoyed your company all night.”
I felt myself getting nervous, like the kid in junior high school again. “I…I’d really… I really hope that we .. might .. see other …again….sometime,” I managed to stammer.
Her eyes looked down for a minute, and I could feel my hopes sinking and my embarrassment rising. I should’ve left well enough alone, I thought.
Then she looked back into my eyes and smiled. “I’m counting on it,” she said softly. “You owe me a dinner. Something besides caramels.”
I went from the depths of despair to cloud nine in a flash, and I expect she could sense it. She stood up in front of me, and just looking at her glorious body had me getting aroused again.
“I was really hoping that tonight wasn’t over,” she said. “I’d love it if you’d spend the night in my bed.”
I stood up and in a flourish, I put one arm under her knees and lifted her into my arms.
“Show me the way, CVS girl,” I said. “I think it’s time for some rewards.”