Mature Man & Maiden Maureen Ch. 02

Mature Man & Maiden Maureen, Ch. 02

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

Continued from Ch. 01, Mature Man & Maiden Maureen

Still, sexual desire haunted me and my lust for Maureen tortured me. Realistically, why would she love me? I'm an old man compared to her. She'd certainly have emotional issues, a father complex, to fall in love with a man twice her age. Yet, if only she did, if only she could, and if only she would, I'd be so happy and, hopefully, I'd make her so happy, too.

Today, she looked a bit down, almost sad. I wondered what was wrong. She only smiled when watching her dog interact with my dog. Mostly quiet while walking, she wasn't as talkative as she usually is.

I gave her more space without interrupting her thoughts with unnecessary conversation. Perhaps, not wanting to know, I didn't dare ask her what was wrong. Yet, I wanted to know what was wrong. Still, I didn't know her well enough to intrude upon her private life and her troubled thoughts.

Besides, I was happy just to be there with her. No doubt, I was a bit selfish in the fact that I didn't want to ruin our time together by pressuring her to tell me what was bothering her. Yet, my good time was weighed down by her limited conversation that were filled with her bad thoughts.

Yet, no matter, how she felt or the reason why she felt how she did, I wanted to offer her my shoulder. I wanted to offer her more than my friendship; I wanted to offer her my love. I wanted to reach down and take her hand in mine and walk away with her.

Alas, not to be, never to be, out of my ability to win her heart, she was so very young. How old was she? I never asked her, but if I were to hazard a guess, maybe, she was 25-years-old, half my age.

Definitely, I'm old enough to know better. I'm old enough to know that she'd never be interested in a man like me, a man past his prime, and a man embittered by life and no longer carrying the torch of idealism. Indeed, I was old enough to be her father.

Whenever she left me, after the brief time we were together, she made me feel old, vulnerable, sad, and ridiculous for me to think that she'd want me. Yet, when I was with her, when I was in her presence, I felt young, energetic, and alive. Her youth and zest for life was contagious. She rejuvenated me. She was my addictive elixir and my fountain of youth.

Never has an hour been as pleasurable and gone by so quickly. Never has a walk through the woods of the dog park been so enjoyable, and dialogue between two people been so free, so easy, and so interesting. Not only did I love looking at her but also, I loved talking to her. I wondered how many people at the park thought that we were father and daughter, boyfriend and girlfriend, or strangers walking their dogs.

# # #

"What's wrong?'

I said finally asked her. Suddenly, with her acting so quietly sullen, I seized upon the moment. I felt secure enough by the openness of our conversation, and in our quickly, growing friendship to ask what was troubling her. Instead of telling me what the matter was, she gave me a vague answer.

"Oh, nothing,' she said.

She waved a disinterested hand after a long, thoughtful pause. Then, she looked up at me, took me in her confidence, and confessed why she was so sad.

"I'm having boyfriend troubles," she said looking up at me before looking down at the ground

As if the grass held all of her answers, she continued staring down at the ground while walking.

An unexpected confession, her words stuck me as if a knife to my heart. As soon as she said the word boyfriend, I was jealous. Suddenly, I pictured her naked and orgasmic in the throes of lustful sex, while in the arms of her young, hot boyfriend. The thought of his cock in her mouth and her blowing him angered me. The thought of his prick in her pussy while fucking her made me wish that I was her boyfriend.

I imagined him tall, handsome, and wealthy. Surely, a woman this desirable, this sexy, and this beautiful was most deserving of such a man as that. Suddenly, as if from out of nowhere, surprising me and shocking her, her boyfriend appeared from out of nowhere and before us.

# # #

Mature Man & Maiden Maureen, Chapter 02:

Maureen accepts Mark's housing invitation, after breaking up with her boyfriend.

"Is this what you do? You meet men here," he said looking at her with anger before looking at me with even more anger.

Surprising me by his hostile reaction to seeing me with her, he looked at her with a face full of rage and at me with a look of deadly jealousy.

"Is this the guy you always talk about," he asked raising his chin while tossing his head? He pointed at me while shooting me a look of distain. "Are you Mark?"

I stepped closer to him.

"Yes, I'm Mark. You must be Maureen's boyfriend. I'm pleased to meet you," I said.

I put out my hand for him to shake and withdrew it, when he snubbed me with another lift of his chin and another toss of his head.

# # #

Always talk about? She always talks about me? I've made quite the impression on her for her to always talk about me to her boyfriend. Suddenly, I felt lighter, younger, and taller. Suddenly, I felt as if I was an important part of her life. Suddenly, I felt like Tomas in Milan Kundera's book, 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being.'

"Come home now! I'm sick of you disappearing for hours with this flea bag of a dog.' He looked down at her puppy with jealousy and then back up at her. "The dog must go. You decide; it's either me or the dog!"

Not much of a decision there, I knew Maureen well enough by now to know that he was a goner with that stated ultimatum. She'd never part with her dog. Already too connected, she loved Missy and Missy loved her.

Surprisingly, her boyfriend wasn't very tall. He was short. With me towering over him, he was shorter than me by a several inches.

He wasn't very good looking either. Average in appearance, at best, he had a potbelly and a receding hairline already forming at his young age. If I say so myself, I was better looking them him.

With me nicer than him and loving her dog, I could see why she enjoyed spending her time with me at the dog park. I was better than him in every way except for my age. If I was his age, they'd be no contest. I'd be able to win her heart and steal her away from him.

Figuring that he was around her age, he appeared ten years older. Better at guessing men's ages than women's ages, maybe, tops, he was 28-years-old. Not figuring Maureen for a gold digger but I figured, surely, he was wealthy. For her to date someone who looked like him and who was as mean as him, he must have had money, lots of money. I was shocked to learn that he was an unemployed, graduate student and an ill-mannered, hot tempered, struggling, and aspiring artist, at that.

Stereotypically, he sure had the miserable and self-centered disposition for that role down pat. He sure was an asshole. He was so intense that he had the personality to be a terrorist, should his life suddenly turn as sour as was his disposition. He had that fanatical look of lunacy on his face, and I hoped it would by her choice in choosing the dog over him. Then, he took that choice away from her.

# # #

He approached her, and as if I wasn't even there, he yanked her. He pulled her by the arm and dragged her forward with him. Her shoe popped off and when she stopped to reclaim it, when she resisted his hold on her by pulling her arm away and breaking free of him, he grabbed at all that he could reach. He grabbed her by the front of her dress.

With one, quick, hard pull, he ripped her beautiful dress wide open. He exposed her big, white brassiere, the tops of her meaty breasts, her long, sexy line of cleavage, and her sheer, white bikini panties to me. As shocked as I was sexually excited, all that I could do was stare.

I stared at Maureen's exposed brassiere. I stared at her long line of cleavage. I stared at her sheer, bikini panties.

Again, she pulled away from him. This time, he stepped forward and, as if he owned her, surprising me, he slapped her hard across her face. The violent force of his slap knocked her head back and immediately created a red welt in the shape of his hand on her cheek. Expecting her to cry, I was surprised when she didn't. If she was anything, she was embarrassed.

I could clearly see the impressions of his fingers on her face. Figuring that she would, astonishingly, she didn't cry or scream, fight back, or even get angry. By her unemotional reaction to his slap, I figured that this wasn't the first violent attack upon her person by this little bastard. Definitely, he had hit her before. Yet, what kind of woman, especially a woman who looked like her, would put up with his verbal and physical abuse?

With her head down and her shoulders slumped forward, she suddenly became withdrawn, clearly disappearing within herself. That, no doubt, was how she emotionally protected herself from him. Not protecting her modesty from me seeing in her underwear, she didn't even wrap her arms around herself to close her torn dress.

Being the sexual pervert that I am, not only did I see her low-cut bra and her long line of sexy cleavage but also, I saw her white bikini panties, too. Unable to stop myself from staring, the longer and harder that I looked the more that I saw. If she wasn't sexually stunning before, she was even more sexually stunning when seeing her in her sexy lingerie.

As if she was naked below the waist, I saw her pussy mound, her camel toe, her patch of red, trimmed pubic hair, and even her pussy slit through her sheer panties. After seeing what Maureen looked like in her bra and panties, I'll be taking that erotic vision of her home with me tonight. No doubt, never expecting that I ever would, I'll be masturbating over seeing this beautiful woman in her sexy lingerie.

# # #

Yet, with me not a callous man, I felt her pain. Determined to stop him from slapping her again, I'd be God damn, if he was going to hit her again, especially in my presence. With her loyal puppy protecting her pack leader, she lunged at him barking and growing.

He kicked the dog hard in the ribs and the dog cowered and whimpered away in pain. She was just a puppy after all, the poor thing. Try kicking a full-grown, Golden Retriever and he'd be missing a foot.

All of this happened so fast, within only a few seconds. In shock at all that transpired, I had no time to react, until now. Determined to step in and make my presence known, he wasn't going to hit her again, ever, that's for sure. As long as I was there to protect her, he wasn't going to touch her, ever again. I'd make sure of that.

"Hey!"

I yelled while taking an intimidating step towards him.

"What's wrong with you? You don't hit a woman," I said.

I looked from him to look at Maureen before giving him all of my angered attention. Not taking me seriously, he looked at me and laughed.

"Who are you, her father?"

He gave me a look that made me realize that this clown would only understand a baseball bat to the back of the head.

"Get lost, old man. Beat it. Go home to your wife,' he said with a wave of his hand that discounted me not only as a human being but also as a man who could punch him silly. "You don't stand a chance with her...Mark," he said spitting out my name while mocking me. "You're too old,' he said with a sick laugh that made me want to shove his teeth down his throat and bury my size twelve shoe up his ass.

The way that he disrespected my name made me angry. I wanted to bitch slap him into tomorrow. I was jealous that someone like him had someone like her. I felt my rage building that he not only embarrassed her by slapping her but also humiliating her by ripping her dress and exposing her bra and panties to me.

# # #

"Don't," she said looking to me obviously embarrassed, before looking back at him. "He'll hurt you. He's crazy," she said in a whisper while looking at me with a pained expression.

He laughed.

'He laughed,' I thought while becoming angrier. 'He laughed at me. How dare this little bastard laugh at me?'

He shot me a look of anger. Having never met me, he didn't know anything about me. If he thought that I was putting up with him verbally or physically abusing her again, he was even crazier than I thought he was.

"You're just like all the rest of those middle aged men, who flock to her, a pathetic, old man hoping to get his cock sucked," he said.

He moved his hand up to his mouth. He moved his hand back and forth, and with his tongue pushing out his cheek, as if he was stroking a cock while sucking a cock. He not only verbally attacked me but also, he continued to embarrass her.

Then, turning his attention from me, he looked at her while pointing at her.

"Look at her. She's beautiful. She's great in bed. She has huge tits with big nipples. You should see her topless. You should see her naked. You'd cum in your pants just seeing her without her clothes," he said. "She's a baby boomer magnet especially with her standing there in her sexy lingerie."

The both of us looked at her standing there embarrassed and humiliated.

# # #

"Tell him," he said. "Go ahead and tell him."

He looked at her before looking at me.

"That's how she made it through college, waiting tables, smiling for tips, letting the old men get a feel of her ass, and a glimpse of her huge tits by leaning over them in her partially, unbuttoned blouse."

He looked back at her with hatred instead of with love.

"Did you suck their cocks in the back alley, too," he asked smiling at her?

He pointed to me.

"Has she sucked your cock, yet? She's a great cocksucker. She gives great head," he said with a laugh. "Did she allow you to cum in her mouth while fondling her naked breasts and sucking her nipples?"

Maureen stood motionless while crying.

# # #

"Hey, that's enough out of you!"

I yelled pointing my finger at him, while dizzy with the imagined image of Maureen sucking my cock and allowing me to cum in her beautiful mouth while allowing me to fondle her huge, naked breasts.

"Or what, old man?" He smiled a sick smile at me. "Or you'll bleed all over me, after I beat you senseless. I've had lessons in martial arts," he said striking a basic Karate pose while laughing.

'Old man,' I thought? 'That's twice he said that. Beat me senseless? Martial arts my ass. No practitioner of the martial arts would ever hit a woman.'

He not only slapped the woman that I love but also, he embarrassed her by ripping her dress wide open. He made her cry. Then, if that wasn't enough, he kicked Missy, called me an old man, and now he's insulting my perceived woman, yet, again.

An ex-Army Ranger, having served two combat deployments, one in Afghanistan and another in Iraq, this clown was going down. My dog loved Maureen and he wasn't about to allow him to get away with hitting her and kicking Missy. The ankle biter that he is, Polo grabbed hold of his pant leg. In his feeble attempt to shake off the lockjaw grip and steadfast determination of a Rat Terrier, he reached down to grab my dog by the collar. Lightning fast, Polo bit his hand three times, before he could even withdraw his bleeding hand.

"Good dog. Good boy. That's a good dog, Polo. I'll give you a cookie, when we get home," I said with a laugh.

My dog was too fast for him. The ass actually tried to kick my dog, too. Now, he had gone too far and it was time for him to learn some manners from this old man.

# # #

"I'll take you to court and have your dog put down for him biting me," he said yelling while holding his bleeding and swollen hand. "You'll pay for this," he said still running his mouth."

This guy was hopping mad. His face was red, his eyes were bulging, and he continued holding his bleeding hand, where my dog bit him. Only, this time, he made the fatal mistake of ignoring me, again, big mistake. When he took another step towards her, I stepped in front of him. Easily, I outweighed him by fifty pounds. I have muscle mass on my side and he had no class on his side.

When he reached out with his right hand to push me aside, an unmovable object, I decked him. Hitting him hard on his chin with a right uppercut, I knocked his head up, him off the ground, and flat on his back. It was a textbook hit. I felt all of my knuckles find the soft underside of his chin.

With a whiplash effect, the back of his head hit the ground hard and bounced. He looked dazed. Then, when he stood, he had limited use of his wobbly legs, other than to use them to take his ass out of the park. He came at me again but I stopped him with my index finger.

Not learning his lesson, he stood in front of me with defiance. As if I was Lt. Colonel Alan Caldwell played by Sean Connery, in Presidio, I poked a long, stiff, index finger in his ribs. Then, for added, painful effect, I turned my finger as if was a screwdriver for added excruciating pain.

"Oh yeah? You're going to make me pay," I laughed? "If anyone is paying for anything, it's you," I said. "You never put your hands on a woman, dirt bag. Do you understand?" I said turning my finger deeper.

I laughed at him.

"And you're not even half the man that I am. You are a nothing but a loser, loser. Now, beat it before I call the police and report you for hitting her."

# # #

He got this deranged look on his face, a look that came from years of getting his way with no one challenging him. He turned away from me to look at her. As if he hated her, he looked at her with anger.

"Don't bother coming home," he said ignoring me and shooting her a look full of hateful rage.

After wiping the tears from her eyes with her hands, she laughed.

"Don't worry. I won't," said Maureen. "We're done. I'll never allow you to hit me again."

He turned to me with a look that told me that he was thinking about trying me again, but instead, he rubbed his jaw and stormed away while holding his bleeding hand.

"I'll leave your things outside the door in the hall," he said from a distance with a wave of his hand and without turning back to look at her.

She was crying again, when I turned to her. Seeing her cry, the way she did made me feel a hunger for her deep down in my soul. I wanted to protect and save her from him. I wanted to save her for myself. I wanted to free her from her pain and suffering. Especially after seeing what she looked like in her sexy bra and panties, I sexually wanted her.

# # #

"Don't worry. You're rid of him. He's gone. He's no good. No man should hit a woman. No one should make you feel less than who you are," I said.

Something that I had never done before but had always wanted to do, I put my arms around her and hugged her. As if she belonged there, she felt so good in my arms. I wanted to stay there holding her forever. What felt like minutes was only a few seconds. Her body, the little that I felt of it, her back, shoulders, and her waist felt firm yet womanly soft.

I reached down and closed her dress. I deliberately brushed the back of my hand by her gigantic, white brassiere. Her bra clad breasts felt as firm as they looked big.

There wasn't a part of me that wasn't aroused while holding her. Not wanting to let her go, softly, instead of kissing her lips as I wanted to do, I kissed her forehead. I whispered in her ear that it was okay and that everything would be alright.

With me sexually excited holding her in my arms, I wanted to reach down and cup her firm, round ass through her dress and white panties. Wanting her to know that she was giving me and erection, I wanted to press my semi-erect penis against her pelvis. I wanted to push her down on the ground and show her my deep, penetrating love for her.

Yet, I controlled myself. I behaved. Tonight, when alone with the erotic thoughts of her, I'll imagine that I did all of those things and more. Tonight, when alone with my horny thoughts of her and with my hand around my stiff cock, she'll be naked in my imagination and we'll be having sex. Tonight, she'll be mine.