Storm Rising

James woke up with a gasp. He lay in the dark, waiting for his heart to stop racing, and listened to his own labored breathing. It was the only sound he could hear. He wondered if this was a heart attack, but he didn't feel any pain. Slowly his breathing evened out and became less audible. He sighed and rolled over to his side.

That was when he noticed his erection. He touched it carefully, stroked slowly up and down the familiar shape. It was hot and hard under his palm, unyielding.

A wet dream, then. He was surprised but not completely thrown off. It had been a long time since he'd had one of those, but it looked like the plumbing was still in working order. He stroked himself lazily and pondered whether to go through the trouble. He tried to remember back to his dream but there was nothing to grasp onto.

His erection was firm. He suspected it was persistent enough to finish. He tried to let his mind wander, to summon some sexual images to focus on. His mind brushed on Lily but he steered clear. There was nothing but pain at the end of that path, and he knew every twist and turn too well.

It didn't help that the vast majority of his sexual experiences had been with Lily. They had met in college and married soon after, and he had been happily monogamous for the entirety of their forty five years of marriage. As had she to the extent of his knowledge. After she had died four years ago he had all but withered away sexually. His doctor had tried to encourage him to "get back into saddle", and other just as banal metaphors, but it just seemed like too much trouble over nothing. For the first few years he had been too grief stricken to even consider it. Now he had given up, accepted that his human connections had been severed in a way that wouldn't be renewed in his lifetime.

After Lily's death he had grown to understand their social life had been maintained by her, and after the initial surge of empathy following the funeral all communication had dwindled down. He had even stooped as low as to become chatty and uncomfortably familiar with the cashiers at the nearby grocery store. He grimaced when he thought about that. God, he was becoming a pitiful, lonely old man. Not even becoming. That was how it was.

Despite all the self pity his cock showed no signs of softening. Maybe he really needed to go through with this. He took a tighter grip and wondered if he should get up to get his laptop and search for some suitable porn. He knew how difficult it was to find anything remotely interesting, so the idea held no immediate appeal.

He stroked himself and considered just going back to sleep. Despite the heat wave hovering over the city he had slept well lately, his air conditioning had worked well enough to keep the house cool. He thought lazily of downsizing to an apartment and wondered when the big house would really get too big for him to maintain. It was a familiar trail of thought as well, and he surfed through it almost without concentrating. The house wasn't too much hassle, and he could always hire people to help. Like today, when Bethany had come around to wash his windows for him.

His cock twitched at the thought of Bethany. He stared at it in mute disbelief, or towards it, it was too dark to actually see it.

"Really?" he said out loud.

He thought of Bethany, what she had looked like climbing up and down the stepladder in her short shorts and sleeveless top. It had been another really hot day. He had sat at the porch in the shade, offering her chilled homemade lemonade between windows, and she had chattered away cheerfully like she always did and made an excellent job with the windows. He was sure he hadn't had a sexual thought in his head at the time. But now -

He thought about her firm, curvy legs. She wasn't slender like so many young women were, but she was tight and firm, her muscles flexing when she climbed up and down. He remembered the way her top had hugged her figure, the softly curving abdomen and the round perkiness of her tits.

He blushed in the dark as his cock grew harder and he realized he was really going to do this. He was going to fantasize about the neighbor girl, who was almost exactly fifty years his junior, and whom he had known nearly all her life. Bethany had moved away from home a few years back, but now Norman and Gail were on some extended cruise and visiting relatives tour to celebrate their anniversary of some outrageous amount of years, and she was house sitting for them. And as was her usual friendly, brisk and effortless way she had helped him around the house, doing chores he hadn't asked for, like washing the windows today.

Need grew in him now and he pushed the embarrassment aside. There was no harm in picturing her naked, nobody would ever know. He felt a little like he had when he was very young and first started masturbating, like someone would know, like they could see right through him and expose his dirty little secrets. At this end of his life he knew it wasn't so, and was able to turn off his inner moral police and get on with it.

He imagined Bethany's body. Her tits would be firm and round. He imagined dark nipples, puckered up in excitement. He imagined the heat drawing a bead of sweat from her long, beautiful neck, trickling slowly between the crevice of those perfect mounds. He almost saw it making its way down her body, slowly, so slowly, twisting its path randomly like raindrops in the window, guided by almost invisible fuzz of hair on her flawless skin. He imagined her pubic hair, momentarily distracted by the thought she might not have any. He knew many women shaved theirs nowadays, a fashion he had never understood. He reminded himself this was his fantasy and he was free to imagine any amount of hair he wished, and created a soft tuft of curls matching the color of her hair. Pleased with himself he spread her legs, her muscular, smooth legs, and imagined the glint of moisture, how it would be smoother than anything in the world to open her folds with his fingers, carefully, to expose the slick insides of her -

He came with a moan that startled himself. He convulsed and thick streams of semen splashed on his stomach in the darkness. He slowly eased himself out of the orgasm, slowing his hand to a stand still in synch with his pulsing. All he could hear was his labored breathing.

"Really?" he said down to his prick again, but it still didn't answer.

--#--#--#--#--#--

James sat on the porch, nursing his mid morning coffee, when Bethany came out the adjacent house.

"Good morning, mister Wilson!" she said cheerfully and crossed the lawn to her side of the picket fence. He got up from his chair and walked down the stairs and across his own lawn to meet her.

"Please, just call me James," he said. "Mister Wilson makes me feel so old."

She let out a tingling laugh. "Sure, James. Or is it Jim?"

"No, actually," he said with a smile. "There were so many Jims around back in the day I was never one. But you can call me Jim if you want to."

She laughed again. "Sure thing, mister - James."

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked, wanting to distract her from his clumsy small talk. After her unexpected visit to his fantasies last night he felt like he was in high school again, trying to talk to a girl he was interested in. Some things just didn't seem to get easier with age. Or maybe he was just so rusty, having spent nearly all of his life with someone he didn't need to woo once it was done.

"To the beach," Bethany answered and gestured to the stripey bag she had left on the pathway. "My friends are picking me up soon."

"Sounds nice," he said, nodding his head. "It certainly is the weather for it."

Sun was shining as relentlessly as it had done for the past two weeks already. There wasn't a cloud in sight, the sky was the washed out blue it was when it got really hot. James had mainly stuck to the shadows, but he observed that Bethany's skin had developed a beautiful, golden brown tan. The small hairs on her arms had turned light and contrasted the wonderful hue of her skin beautifully. He wondered where she would have tan lines and then tried fervently to think of something else. Thank God he was definitely too old to develop unwanted boners in situations like this.

She can't hear your thoughts, he said to himself. Stop fretting. Calm down.

A car drove down the street, horn honking.

"That's my ride, gotta go," Bethany said and turned to smile at him once more. "Have a good day, mis - James! I'll see you later."

"You too, Bethany," he said and lifted his fingers to his temple in a mock salute. She laughed again and ran across the lawn to scoop up her bag. Her tanned legs pumped and when she bent down to get the bag James got an unhindered view of her round and unequivocally perfect buttocks. The back door of the car opened and closed and she was gone.

James went back to the porch. He was astonished with himself. Maybe this heat wave was enough to heat up even his old bones. He snorted at himself and settled to spend the day sweating and watching over the next-to-nothing proceedings of his home street.

--#--#--#--#--#--

There was considerably less spring in Bethany's step when she returned home several hours later. James watched her drag her feet along the pathway and slam the door behind her. He wondered what had happened. She had been so happy when she was leaving, and now she looked like someone had pissed in her cereal.

James had spent the day on his porch, retreating to his cool house for a solitary lunch and some daytime TV, only to return outside to the simmering heat in the late afternoon. He was drinking beer. It was something he immensely enjoyed, having a cold beer on a hot summer night like this. Lily had always nagged about it, so in some ways life had gotten easier without her around. Not that he wouldn't have given anything to hear her nagging again.

To his amazement Bethany came back out a moment later. She viewed the lawn of her parents' house with pursed lips and then stormed to the fence between their lots and peeked over to his.

"Can I mow your lawn?" she asked when she noticed him on the porch.

"There is no need, I'm afraid," he said. "It's too hot for it to grow."

"I need to do something. I can't just sit still."

"Well, I could always use some vacuuming. I'll pay you for your troubles, of course."

"This will be my pleasure," she said curtly.

She jumped lightly over the fence - oh God how graceful young people were! - and stormed towards him. She had cleaned up at his place before, so he didn't need to show her around. He sat on the porch and listened to the infuriated cleaning noises carrying from inside. He was puzzled and didn't quite know how to relate to the angry energy she was emanating. He was glad to be able to provide her with an outlet.

After about half an hour the vacuuming noises stopped. He got up, took his empty beer bottle and went inside. Bethany was just stuffing the vacuum cleaner back into the cleaning closet. She didn't seem as enraged anymore.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked politely. "I don't know if I've got cash, but I'll get it to you later."

"No, I should be paying you," she answered with an unamused little smile.

"Well, can I offer you a beer at least? Or something else? Or do you even drink?"

"Do you have wine? And yes, I do drink, I'm not twelve anymore, you know. James."

He lifted his arms up in surrender. "Okay, sorry. I think I do have some wine. Let me check."

He went into the kitchen and checked the fridge. He knew there'd be a bottle of white wine chilled, but he made a show of finding out. She had followed her and nodded when he showed the bottle for her to approve. He reached for two glasses and they sat beside the kitchen table. He poured them some and she gulped half of hers down before he had time to lower the bottle. He raised his eyebrows and topped her up without commenting.

They drank in silence and after a few minutes she let her shoulders slump.

"Do you want to know what happened?" she asked.

"If you want to tell," James answered. "It might help to talk about it."

"It was stupid, really. I thought I was over shit like this."

James didn't comment. He just crossed his legs, leaned back in his chair and sipped his wine. He looked at his gnarly old hand that was gripping the stem of the glass. He remembered how it had been when he was young, how he had looked at his grandfather's hands and wondered how anyone's hands could look like the twisting roots of an old tree. And now his hands were exactly like that.

Bethany glanced at him, clearly trying to make up her mind whether to confide in him or not. He didn't push her. She would or she wouldn't, and he didn't know if it was going to make any difference in the end. He had long ago stopped wanting to control any flow of events to his liking. Life wasn't steerable like that, and at some point in the past decades he had accepted that fact.

He got yanked out of his old man's rambling thoughts by Bethany's voice. She was hesitant at first, but once she had started it was like a dam had burst and she just let it come. She started by describing a new pair of bikini she had bought and worn for the first time today. There was a boy she was interested in, and they had planned on meeting on the beach. The boy hadn't showed up, and every boy they had met had had their eyes only on her friend, Mia, who apparently had slimmer legs and bigger breasts. She said it was always like that, but that she had really liked the bikini and she had really wanted to impress the boy.

From there she backtracked to her experiences with boys and her friends in general. It seemed she was the type to never be anyone's first choice, and now that James thought about it he realized she probably wasn't. To him she was absolutely beautiful, a vibrant image of youth and bodily perfection. To young boys there was always someone slimmer, taller, with bigger boobs or longer hair, someone they most likely wouldn't get but still tried to. To wrap up her qualities Bethany was intelligent and reserved, and James had no doubt she would be one to keep a little out of the action in parties, one to stay back and observe others.

Now she was describing exactly that. How it took something more for her to get interested at all and how she seemed unable to attract those she did get interested in. She described her dating experiences and James found himself nodding to her words. It was a very long time ago but he remembered all of it, and having her describe it made it feel like not much had changed in the last fifty years. Nothing had changed, in fact.

James topped Bethany's glass when she finally petered down. He was grasping for something to say. He could feel her pain and frustration, she was describing it so accurately it wasn't difficult to relate.

"Well, Bethany," he said when she was clearly waiting for her to comment. "Can I call you Beth?"

She nodded and gulped a generous amount of wine.

"You're beautiful, Bethany," he said as sincerely and convincingly as he could manage. Bethany snorted and shrugged, looking away.

"No, really, you are," he said. "The thing is, all young people are beautiful. Every one of them. Of you. You have such a beautiful smile, your skin is flawless, your hair is lovely. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your body. You're so...firm, and taut, and shapely. And you have so much energy. It's intoxicating. I know that young people take all that for granted. Believe it or not, I've been young once."

For this he got the kind of feeble smile he hoped he would.

"The problem is, of course, that of all that perfection the young people focus on what they think is the most perfect. The prettiest girls. The hunkiest guys. So every boy wants to have the prettiest girl, and every girl wants to have the hunkiest guy. It screws it up for exactly everyone. Those that are the most seeked after are often ruined for life. They build their self esteem and sense of self worth on how wanted they are. And when everybody else eventually realizes there's plenty more fish in the sea the high school royalty is often left too alone. Or that's what happened to my acquaintances, anyway."

Bethany let out a frustrated sigh, blown upwards so that it made her bangs rise momentarily from her forehead. She wasn't agreeing. James continued.

"So all the young people are beautiful, but the sad part is you need to get on this side of life to appreciate it. By the time most people get it they aren't there anymore. And from where I am it's such a waste, to use all that youthful beauty and energy to such pointless drama. I know this doesn't comfort you or solve your problems. I wish there was something I could do."

"All young people are beautiful?" she asked, disbelieving.

"Yes," he answered levelly.

"The fat ones? The skinny ones?" she elaborated.

"Every single one," he said adamantly. "They all have so much energy. They believe the world is filled with opportunities and that's what makes it be true. Once you get older and take up on those opportunities it's like doors closing. Every time you pick up something you let something else drop. You've got so much to choose from you don't even realize it."

"Yes but the sex," she blurted suddenly and blushed a deep red. She sounded frustrated.

"What about sex?" he asked and intentionally focused on his glass and not her face.

"This is embarrassing."

"This might be hard to believe, but I have heard of sex, it was invented back in my day already."

She chortled. She huffed for a while and drank some more for encouragement.

"I've had sex," she started, clearly unsure of how to make her point. "And I want to have sex. It just hasn't always gone so well. And now I'm stuck in it that I would want to find someone who would mean something, not just try to have casual sex. But it's so difficult to find anyone, or keep dating if I don't put out soon enough. And I would really..."

She trailed off, glancing at him and then away. Her blush deepened.

"I get horny, okay? I would like to have casual sex, if only it would work. Sometimes I get so frustrated I think I would pay for it if I knew how to find someone."

James took a sip of wine to buy time. He couldn't quite grasp how it was that he was now discussing casual sex with this marvelous young woman. Even less he could grasp what he should say, how he could make it better for her. But he needed to answer, let her know he had heard her and wasn't embarrassed by the conversation. To ease her mind and maybe let her open up even more.

"I remember," he said. "It's about energy again. So much sexual energy. I've sometimes thought I should've done it a lot more in my time, and then I do remember everything you just said. It isn't as easy to find someone as one would imagine. But it's such a waste. All that energy, all those perfect bodies, and how difficult it is to make it happen. Frankly, and I hope you don't mind me being so blunt, the idea of saving yourself for marriage is the stupidest thing anyone's ever come up with. Especially now that birth control is so easy it would be so much better for everyone to just do it as long as you're able."

"Do you...hmph, I mean, after Mrs. Wilson died..." she started and looked fascinated and horrified at what came out of her mouth.

"No, I haven't had sex since Lily died," he said bluntly. "And yes, I would still be able to. But it's quite different at this end of life. There's no pressing urges."

Now that was a lie, but she didn't need to know that. He remembered his surprise erection the night before and to drown his embarrassment he drank some more. They were almost done with the bottle. He wondered if she wanted to get plastered with him.

"It's a shame all that energy doesn't go together with actually knowing what to do," he said. "I don't need to know about specifics to guess what's happened to you. Young men can be so clumsy in their inexperience. I know I was. It took me a long time to learn to do it right. And lots of practice, of course. But then there's a lot of frustrated older women who would appreciate the kind of....enthusiasm and...not stamina, but the ability to go again and again and again that the young men have. Because a lot of men lose it along the way. I guess everyone does, if they get this old."