Empty Nest

For one tense moment I worried that I had ruined everything with that inappropriate question but it passes quickly as Heather lets out an amused chuckle. Sitting back she takes her glass of wine and swirls it as she gives me a good long look.

“Let me see now.” She sips, swirls the sweet liquid in her mouth, then swallows it down. “Face, handsome.”

“Oh!” A quick blush rises across my cheeks from her blunt praise.

“Make that extremely handsome.” She laughs. “I’ve always had a thing for blue eyes and black hair though. Body, not so bad. Could use work but the potential is there. Wide shoulders, narrow waist, nice chest, elegant hands, cute bum.”

“Oh, uh, um, erm…” I am sputtering like an idiot. When I asked the question I hadn’t expected a detailed checklist.

“Smell, yummy. Smile, amazing. Those dimples of yours are adorable.”

Adorable?

“Your fashion sense, dreadful.” After sending me soaring she yanks me right back down again. But I sensed that every word she spoke was honest. “I’m probably old fashioned but all your clothes are too baggy. Baggy and sloppy. And all those video game characters and whatever? Makes you look…boyish. Too many blacks and greys too. A bit of color would do wonders on you. For me there’s nothing better than a man with your build in a nice collared shirt and tight fitting jeans. Simple. Classic. Dapper yet casual.” She shrugs. “But I’m old.”

“Tight fitting jeans?”

“Cute bums on men are a rare commodity. You might as well flaunt it if you got it.” She laughs. “Tastefully of course.”

Again with the cute bum. “I…um…I am overdue for refreshing my wardrobe.”

“I’d say.” She agrees. “Dress handsomely and you will feel handsome.”

Besides being deeply flattered by some of the things she was saying the thing that stood out thus far was the man she was describing did not at all look like her deceased husband Alexander. From what I recalled he was a bigger man with brown hair that usually wore business suits.

“Let me put it this way.” She says. “If you dressed how I described and I was 20 years younger? Let’s just say that you would be serious honey boy material.”

I guffaw. “Honey boy!?”

She grins and takes another sip of wine. “Does it bother you? Me talking like this?”

“No!” I answer too quickly. “No, not at all.”

“I’ve never been a shy gal. Ask a question and you’ll usually get an answer.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Not all the time.”

“Um…what’s a honey boy?”

She laughs. “It was a term between me and my sister and cousins. Due to a genetic condition that runs in our family it makes it difficult for us to be…promiscuous.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s nothing life threatening. We’re perfectly healthy.” She says. “But it does make things tricky.”

“Tricky?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Shaking her head she says. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No, I’d…I’d like to know.” I say, my curiosity piqued. “If you’re comfortable with it. I’m not a gossip if that’s what you’re worried about. You can trust me.”

“Oh, I know that.” She says. “But can I trust myself?”

“Huh?”

“Mmm.” Around and around the golden liquid swirls while her brown eyes stare into mine. “It’s been a long time. And you do make it so very tempting, Elliot.”

“I don’t understand.”

She stares at me for a long moment. “He’s had such a bad day. Why not?”

“Why not what?”

“Elliot, do you trust me?”

“Yeah. I mean…you’ve been nicer to me than anyone has in a long time.”

“Aww.” Setting down her glass she reaches to pet the hair just behind my ear. “Listen. I’d like to share something with you. It’s going to be a little peculiar but I promise that you are going to like it.”

“Okayyy.”

“Okay.” Leaning in close, so close that I could feel the warmth of her cheek next to mine, Heather take in a long, deep breath. “Mmmmm. This should only take a couple of minutes. ” With that she stands up and heads into the washroom. “Go ahead and keep eating.” She says as the door swings closed behind her.

Sitting alone I look down over the table then toward the washroom door. What in the hell was happening here? I liked Heather. I actually liked her a lot and I was liking her more with every minute we spent together but she was definitely a bit…odd. Was she a psycho? Did she lure me into her home to murder me in my sleep? I wasn’t getting crazy killer vibes off of her, at most she seemed a slightly cracked wine mom, but what did I really know about her? After some thought that question answers itself. I knew she was the type of kind lady to help a down on his luck guy. Whatever…this was she had earned a bit of trust from me. And if she did turn out to be a little nuts, well, the least I could do is humor for one night.

I nibble at my food as I wait and I wonder. It wasn’t too long before the washroom door opens a crack.

“Close your eyes.” She says, peeking out.

I give her a look. “What are you going to do?”

“You’ll have to trust me.”

I consider it for a very brief moment. I didn’t know what she had in mind but I wanted to find out and so I close my eyes.

“Now cover them with your hands.” She says softly. “No peeking.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” I do as she asks.

“Very good.” I hear her footsteps swiftly approach then the rustle and scrape of her chair moving and her sitting back down. “You can open them.”

Lowering my hands and opening my eyes I see Heather back in her spot looking just as she had. Well, not quite as she had. She now had a very subtle, and very attractive, blush across full cheeks. Her right hand she had raised between us with her index finger extended. The tip of her finger was wet? Smeared with some sort of clear, sticky…mucus!? What the fuck!?

“What is that?”

“Honey.” She says calmly, as if nothing at all was strange about this. “You asked what a honey boy was. Here’s your answer.”

“Is that…from your pussy!?”

She giggles hard enough to get her big boobs to bounce. “Something like that. You don’t like pussy?”

“I like it fine but…”

“Don’t tell me you're one of those guys who don’t go down!”

“I go down.” I bluster. “Not that it’s any of your business!”

“I know this is weird, Elliot. I really do. Believe it or not it’s almost as weird for me.” The way she said it made me believe her, yet this was crazy! “You don’t have to. But if you’re going to do it, do it quick before it dries.”

“Is this some kind of fetish of yours?”

“Mmm.” She shrugs. “Perhaps.”

I look at her, I look at her finger, I look at her, I look at her finger. Leaning closer I give her digit a closer look and a sniff. It was perfectly clear and almost totally odorless. There was a very subtle sweetness to the smell but that was it. If this was her pussy juice she sure smelled a lot different than Blair’s piquant tang.

“This is so fucked up.” I whisper, even as I surrendered to the fact that I was going to do it. Had Heather not been a good looking woman I would have been running for the door but as I run my eyes up and down her thick, voluptuous MILF body…mmmm. “Fuck it.” I give her finger a fast, firm lick.

With a warm smile she sits back and wipes her finger on her napkin. Picking up her cutlery she carries on eating her meal where she had left off. Watching her eat her supper as if nothing had happened leaves me more perplexed than ever. If this was some deviant fetish of hers you’d think there would be some sign. An intense stare or a sharp breath or some sort of indication that her unique sexual itch had just been scratched. I swirl my tongue and smack my lips but mingled among the lingering flavors of my dinner I couldn’t taste anything at all. Was it spit or…? Only then does it hit me!

“Oh my God!” I gasp. “Did you drug me!?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, Elliot. It wasn’t drugs. Though it is dangerously addictive in greater quantities. For both of us.”

“Dangerously!? What did you…?”

“Please.” She motions to my food. “Let’s eat.”

“Respectfully, Mrs. Hutton.” I say. “You are one strange lady.”

“Guilty as charged.” Taking up her glass she swirls the last little bit she had left and raises it for another toast.

I sigh and shake my head. I should have known this was all too good to be true. Heather was a head case! No wonder she still lived alone. Ah well. When in Rome!

I raise my glass and tap it to hers then take a drink. I am about to return the goblet to the table when I stop.

“Mmm.” I smack my lips and run my tongue around my mouth. “Mmm!” My eyes widen as I stare down at the cheap chardonnay as layer after layer after layer of sweet, succulent flavor blossoms across my palate. “MMM!” I look to Heather in disbelief. “MMMMMM!”

She grins, joy twinkling in her lovely brown eyes. “You like the wine?”

Like it? LIKE IT? It was EASILY the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted in my life!