Just Cole And Jen

"I'm not him." I said, pushing her away. "You have nothing to worry about with me."

"Is she in mama bear mode?" Jen asked. "Get off him, Nik, he's one of the good guys."

"That's what you said about Asshole," Nikki said.

"Message received, Nikki," I said.

"Okay, just remember. I have mace, a Taser and giant mothefucking friends." she said, smiling. "Glad to finally meet you."

"Me too," I said, standing to give her a cautious side hug.

"So where do I sit?" Nikki asked. "Looks like all the seats are taken."

"You got here late, bitch." Jen said airily. "You can sit on the step."

"Nah," I said, getting up. "You take my seat. I can sit on the step."

"I appreciate you being such a gentleman and all, but please," said Nikki. "Like that's going to happen. You won't be able to get your old ass up if you sit down there."

"Didn't we just meet?" I asked her. "Shouldn't we get to know each other better before you dog me like that?" She gave me a sweet smile.

"She likes you," Jen said. "But let's not be stupid. You sit here," she said, getting out of her seat and pulling Nikki into it. "You sit here," she said, pushing me back down, "and I sit here."

She sat down, placing her inimitable ass directly on my crotch. My erection had gone down a little when we pulled apart earlier, but now it was granite again, and, as she wiggled on top of me, it got even harder. I hadn't been this hard in twenty years, maybe my whole life.

"Jen..." I said, leaning forward, trying to push her forward onto my thighs.

"Shhhh," she said, taking my arms and putting them around her waist. "Let's watch."

And we did. She spent most of the time chatting with Nikki and me, but her butt never stopped moving the whole time. Sometimes it was subtle, a slight flexing or a small circle, but other times it was almost full on dry humping. I looked over at Nikki and saw her trying to suppress a laugh.

"Is she 'amusing you'?" she asked.

"You heard?"

"Yeah, you're going to see a lot of her. Enjoy."

"I guess I will," I said, leaning back, not even pretending to pay attention.

"Oh, you will," Jen said, grinding down especially hard.

She continued to torture me. I think she was hoping to make me pop, but I'm not a kid and she was out of luck. She wouldn't let me remove my arms and occasionally leaned forward to brush the bottom of her breasts against the back of my hands and forearms. I leaned back and closed my eyes, surrendering to the sensations on my groin, the smell of lavender and the sweet feeling that something so wrong, but so delicious, was taking place. I couldn't believe I was letting this happen. I must've been more tired than I thought to let my boundaries get this porous.

"Hey, hey." I was being shaken. "I think we need to get you back to your room."

"What..." I looked up to see beautiful brown eyes.

"I'm sorry," Jen said. "I thought you'd be okay because of the time change, but you've been up for a long time, haven't you?"

"About twenty hours," I said, yawning.

"I can go get your car and drive you back to your room if you're too tired."

"Nah," I said, yawning some more. "I can walk to the car. This ungodly cold will wake me up and I'll be fine to drive back to my room, no worries."

"So you don't want to go out with us?" she asked, sounding disappointed.

"If I remember when I was your age, y'all will want to go out and drink, and I would drop like a rock with my first beer. Where are you going, anyway?"

"Partayyyy," Nikki said loudly. "That's how we get booze at our age."

"Definitely not for me," I said. "Not to be a wet blanket, but no driving, right? I don't even have to say it, right?"

"I'll hardly be able to walk," Nikki said. "Don't worry, gramps, we stagger home every weekend."

"Not quite as bad as all that," Jen said, pulling her sweatshirt back on. "And don't worry, we don't even have a car."

Once again I was treated to a glimpse of her dark, sexy stomach. Not by accident, I thought, not after all her teasing tonight.

"Okay, so we'll walk you back to your car; it's on the way," Nikki said.

"I was looking forward to taking you there with us," Jen said, taking my hand.

"Jen," I said, "I wouldn't go anyway. I'm a little too old for a college party, don't you think?"

"You're not too old for anything," she shot back. "Nik! Check out his guns."

So the walk back to my car turned into a fun, if somewhat embarrassing, flirty time with two sensational coeds. They refused to allow me to zip up my coat, insisting they rub my chest or stick their hands down the arms to squeeze my biceps, all with flattering color commentary. Someone brushed the back of her hand against my groin, but when I looked at their faces, Jen had put on her now familiar crooked, enigmatic smile and Nikki projected an air of faux innocence.

When we parted, Nikki managed to wrap her short arms around my waist and give me a squeeze. Jen, though, practically crawled inside my jacket as she put her arms around my neck. Her coat was also magically open, now, and she pressed her soft breasts against me, hard.

"I'm going to miss you tonight," she said, and then kissed my neck.

"Jen..."

"I know, I know," she said, pulling back. "I have a study group in the morning, so I won't be able to have breakfast with you."

"You have a study group?" I asked, surprised. "Why bother if you're leaving?"

"Cuz my girl's smart AND sweet," said Nikki.

"Not really," Jen said, embarrassed. "I did most of the early research, so they'd be lost if I didn't catch them up."

"She IS the group," said Nikki proudly. "They'd fail the project if she bailed. Her professor said she's the smartest student he's had in..."

"Okay, so that's it," Jen interrupted. "Plan on spending the day together after eleven or so. Then we'll get dressed and go out to dinner, yay!"

"Looking forward to all of it," I said.

"Me too," Jen said, letting go of my hand slowly as she walked away so that our fingertips brushed. She acted like she didn't want to let go, a feeling I could relate to.

"Come on," Nikki urged. "The boys await."

~~~

As I lay in bed later, my erection made its painful presence felt. I wanted to take it in hand, but I knew that even if I watched some porn on my laptop, I would be beating off to Jen, and the shame of that would be just too much. I couldn't get her out of my mind. I pictured her dancing in that skimpy black outfit of hers, imagining a wardrobe malfunction and the eyes of every male in the place trained on her. Would she dance close to one of those boys, giving them the worldview of her cleavage I had gotten earlier? Would she take one of them home? It surprised me to realize how jealous I would be if I found out she had. I had never been jealous of her and Brandon. I had never looked at her that way at all. I tossed and turned, eventually falling into a fitful sleep, waking several times.

I'm usually an early riser, but exhaustion and the time zones worked against me, so I didn't wake up until almost ten, which was only eight my time. Okay for a Saturday. I was showered and had just finished shaving, towel wrapped around my waist, when there was a soft knock on my door.

"You're early," I said, as Jen pushed her way past me to sprawl on the unmade bed.

"I know," she said lazily, "Only one girl showed up for the group. I showed her what I could, but I'm not going back. If they're gonna blow me off, fuck 'em."

"Absolutely," I said. "You're only as valuable as you let yourself be."

"You too."

"What do you mean?" I asked. Her eyes were on me hard as I knelt and pulled some jeans and a button up shirt from my suitcase.

"How are you doing, Cole? Since the whole Kelly thing?"

The whole Kelly thing. Nice. What an interesting way to distill and discard over twenty-five years of marriage.

"In what way?" I called, ducking around the corner in the bathroom so I could put on my underwear in peace.

"Well," she hollered back, "Financially, I hope you're okay, I hope she didn't take everything, you know, but I was wondering more about how you're doing emotionally, spiritually, romantically...you know."

"I've been on a few dates, if that's what you're asking," I admitted. "I know it's been almost a year, but I haven't had any real desire to hook up with anyone, especially not long term, and I think most women are able to see that, so now I don't even try. It's a trust thing, you know? I'll wait until I'm ready."

"You're a confident man," Jen said, "Something I've always liked about you. That's still there."

"I don't feel confident," I said as I finished dressing. Why was I unburdening myself to this kid? "To quote a funny man in a funny movie, 'I'm a cuckold.' "

"Yeah, but in the end they got back together."

"That's why that's a fucking movie!" I said tersely, spitting in the sink, surprised by the level of vehemence I still had in me. Jesus, I needed to move on. "No WAY that's happening."

Jen lay sideways on the bed, her head propped up as she looked up at me. She wasn't in a sexy pose, or even trying to be sexy for that matter, I don't think, but the sight of her on my bed took my breath away. If last night was a cleavage night, today was all about how tight her outfit could get. Her jeans looked even tighter than yesterday's and, in this position, displayed her gracefully rounded hip. There was a sexy gap between her upper thighs. Her top was a green long-sleeved tee with a white shirt poking out underneath. I'd often heard the term 'painted on'. Now I was living it. Well, next to it, anyway.

"I'm glad," she said. "But we're not talking about her today."

"Good deal," I said, sitting in my chair as I finished the truly horrible room coffee.

"And no Brandon, either," she promised. "Let's go have a fun day."

And it was fun. What did we do? A lot of bullshit, actually, but it was fun bullshit. She really tried. For example, we went to a Lego contest sponsored by the library. Unfortunately, kids made most of the exhibits, but there were a few exceptions. I became fascinated with the life size Iron Man.

"You're all just a bunch of little boys," Jen said, smiling.

As the day wore on, I don't think anyone observing us would confuse Jen for my daughter or niece. She stuck too close. She didn't overtly flirt with me like she had the night before, but she was never far away, and there was always a hand resting lightly on my arm, or she was fiddling with my hair; things like that. She touched me whenever we were close, and if we weren't, she got close. We couldn't go from one place to another without her taking my hand to lead me there. I didn't understand why she was showing me this kind of attention, but I was enjoying it immensely. Of course I couldn't take it seriously.

And man, what a great time we had. She was a delight. There wasn't a moment where she wasn't flashing me a smile of some sort. She had so many different ones. It was such a contrast to Kelly, who developed those little frown lines around her mouth in her twenties.

I watched this young woman with both delight and despair. The women my age I had met this last year, the ones I had any chance with, were either sullen or desperate, and let's not even talk about how much they'd let their bodies go. Life had beaten them down, and they couldn't mask their bitterness, even when a first date would be turned off by it, as I certainly was.

Jen might have had this youthful, exuberant quality about her, but she was all woman. One would hope she possessed this same effervescence when she hit, say, sixty, but I knew it couldn't last; life would grind her up in it's own way soon enough. Look at what my son had already tried to pull. But maybe it didn't have to be like that. I knew her mother slightly, and I would say that life had polished her instead. Maybe it could be that way for Jen.

Something happened between us that afternoon. It gradually became second nature to hold her hand. I don't even know when it started, and I wouldn't even notice we were attached unless she squeezed me or interlocked her fingers with mine, something that felt even more intimate. At some point she put her arm around my waist, snuggling close, and it was the most natural thing to put my arm around her shoulder. It would have felt wrong to pull apart.

She had stopped trying to be this flirty bombshell and was just being my Jen, someone I had so admired for her sweetness. I'd known her for years, watched her grow up, but now I was finally starting to appreciate her as a woman, as was her intention, I'm sure. A woman way too young for me, of course, but it was nice to be here with her, so companionable, so low maintenance, so much fun. I keep using that word a lot, I know, but that's what she was, and I hadn't had a lot of that lately.

"Okay, my merry old Cole," she said, giving my waist a squeeze and finally disengaging. My shirt was infused with her lavender scent. "You need to get me back so I can be ready in time for our reservations."

"I've had a great day," I said, looking down, captivated once again by her perfect smile.

"Oh, me too," she replied. "But it's not over yet. You haven't even seen my dress."

~~~~~

I will not deny that it was one spectacular dress, not that I saw it right away. She came to the car swathed in an imposing Matrix-y leather duster that reached all the way down to her ankles.

"Not mine," she said as she climbed into the car, "and really not warm enough, but I wanted to surprise you. Turn up the heat. Please."

"Well, it is surprising," I said.

"Not this, silly," she giggled. "What's underneath."

Her LBD was tasteful. I think she was aiming for demure, but with her curvy body it was next to impossible. That dress probably had a reasonably high neckline, but it wasn't up to containing her immense breasts, and there was a noticeable expanse of cleavage. Her heels were just high enough to accentuate her long, nylon-covered legs.

I spent a bit of time trying to figure out how a dress could be so elegant and erection inducing at the same time as I surveyed her flawless skin. Finally, I decided that it wasn't just Jen's sculpted body that made the difference, and not the cleavage, either. Her years of gymnastics and dance had given her a feline grace. She didn't walk so much as prowl; her lines were long and lean, but at the same time, those lush curves would not be denied. It didn't matter what she was wearing, her very demeanor made it sexy, but with an undeniable air of sophistication. She would be at home in the most elegant setting. Most men's' eyes in the restaurant never left her, including mine.

"I finally decided what your major should be," I said as she presented herself for my inspection. "Fitness model. You'll make a fortune."

"Miss Model Material," she said, making a graceful pirouette. "You just never stop complimenting me. What do you think about the dress? The dress."

"Of course I love the dress," I said. "It's lovely. You're lovely in it. If this is the classy dress, I'm afraid to see the slutty one, you look so sexy."

"You just keep talking, buster," she giggled. "You're pretty good for a girl's self-esteem."

~~~~~

It turned out Jen knew most of the wait staff from school; that's how we got in. The Maître d' was the brother of Nikki's old boyfriend back home in Springfield, or something like that. We were well taken care of.

"So..." I said, after the admittedly delicious yet overpriced meal was over. "I see why you wanted to come here."

"And why's that?" she asked.

"The dance floor, the band. You didn't tell me we came here to dance."

"I thought I did," she said, "and I know it's something we both like to do, so I thought..."

"And you thought correctly," I said, standing up, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. "I'm sure I'll be a little rusty, but would you do me the honor, Miss Villanueva?"

"I would be delighted, Mr. Pickinpaugh," she said with an impish smile.

~~~~~

My family moved to Seattle in the late seventies when I was thirteen. To say I was bummed is an understatement. All my friends were gone, and I hated the overcast days. My mother, in a misguided attempt to get me to "socialize," enrolled me in ballroom dancing classes. She thought I'd make friends there.

It didn't turn out that way, of course. The girls were all snooty bitches who never gave me the time of day, and there were only two other guys there. One was super gay and a snooty bitch in his own right, and the other one was so weird the girls wouldn't dance with him unless forced to at gunpoint. He spent most of his time paired with the instructor.

I was surprised to find out that I had a natural flair for dancing, all styles, and, since most teenagers like it when things come easy, It became my life's obsession until I turned sixteen. It suddenly became more important to get a job so I could buy a car. I was too tall to ever dance professionally, but I never stopped completely, and I always loved it.

It wasn't cool to know how to foxtrot and rhumba at fifteen, but five short years later I was in demand when the college girls learned what I could do. The fact that I cleaned up well and looked good in a tux was merely a bonus. That was how I met Kelly later on, and I can honestly say that I twirled her off her feet. I taught her a lot, and when we went out dancing we were pretty good together.

Jen and I were great together. Our first turn felt like we'd been bopping together for years and years. We were perfectly in sync from minute one. She was the most responsive partner, moving effortlessly where I directed her with the slightest pressure. She smiled happily the whole time, which made everything feel even better.

"God, you're good," she said breathlessly after the third number. "I thought you said you were rusty."

"A perfect partner is everything," I said. "You make it too easy."

"Right back 'atcha."

When a slow number finally came around, she immediately moved close, filling up the space between us I had purposely created. It wasn't long before she gave up any pretense of actual dancing and put her head in my chest. I moved my head down and smelled lavender and whatever floral scent her shampoo was. To my horror, I started getting hard, pressed against her the way I was. I tried to move away, but she scooted right back.

"Ah ah ah," she said. "That's not going anywhere."

"Jen..."

"Shhhh," she said. "Don't worry about it. I'm having a great time. You're having a great time. Don't spoil it."

I was proud of how long I was able to stay out there with her. Of course she could dance all night, but I'm not a young guy, no matter how much I'd been working out, and I finally got winded and asked if we could sit down for a while.

After we found a table and ordered mineral water for the both of us, I was able to glance around the place a bit. The crowd was an interesting mix. The band, by its nature, would draw an older crowd, but the number of college students there surprised me. They weren't great dancers, most of them, but were very, very earnest, much to my amusement. I asked Jen why they were there.

"These are the rich kids," she said. "Hipster douchebags, most of them."

"Here to see and be seen?" I asked.

"Exactly," she said. "It's the new karaoke. This is a very expensive place, like I have to tell you, so it's a status thing to come here."

"Is that why you wanted to come?" I asked.

"Oh, gawd no," she replied. "I came here to dance. And be with you."

"I'll be ready to get back out there in just a minute," I said.

" 'And be with you,' " she repeated. "I would love it if we danced some more, but I'll be happy to sit here and hang out with you all night if that's what you want to do."

So we chatted for a few minutes, swapping war stories about dance recitals and the like. She was asked to dance many times, and each time she answered with a polite "No thank you" or an "I'm with him" as she held my hand.