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First Date After

Date: 9/20/2015, Categories: Mature, Author: ClarkRoberts, Rating: 18, Source: LushStories

decided I couldn’t stay long at the party. I planned to just put in an appearance then leave as soon as decorum allowed. The party was well underway by the time I arrived. Graduation themed decorations embellished the backyard. Balloons danced on the ends of strings in the evening breeze. Charcoal smoke wafted through the balloons and mixed with the aroma of grilling meat. Numerous people of various ages were loudly celebrating among tables covered with appropriate themed plastic tablecloths. From a stereo, pop music blared, creating a calliope of chaotic noise. Someone handed me a paper plate, containing a hamburger fresh off the grill and a side of potato salad along with a big kosher pickle. Finding a place to eat on the terraced patio, I bit into the still warm hamburger. A good-looking young man holding two plastic party cups approached me. With a half-grin, he handed me one of the cups and said, “I thought you might need something to wash that down with, Miranda.” My cheeks bulged with masticated meat, so all I just nodded my thanks. The young man intrigued me because he actually looked me in the eyes when he spoke to me. Most men his age looked down at my big boobs instead, make that most men period. Gazing back into his lustrous brown eyes, I detected a sad maturity that was beyond his age. The young man sat down next to me and took a long drink from his cup. He was dressed in khaki trousers and a green polo shirt that enhanced his wide shoulders and powerful ... physique. His dark hair was close-cropped, but thick. A prominent Roman nose robbed him of being truly handsome. Yet, he exuded an air of natural confidence. “Thanks,” I said with a self-conscious grin. I took a sip of sweet tea. “You’re welcome,” he replied. “I heard you went through a pretty rough divorce. How are you doing these days?” Not expecting that line of questioning, I glared at him for a long moment then groused, “I’m fine. I hadn’t realized that my divorce was still the big gossip of the neighborhood.” “It’s not. I was asking about you not your divorce,” he said with a cute half-grin. When I didn’t response, he asked, “You do remember me, don’t you?” I shook my head and answered, “No, not really.” “That’s not surprising, the last time you saw me was a few years back,” the young man chuckled then he added, “It was right over there by the pool.” It was obvious he knew me, but I still couldn’t place him. Shaking my head, I said, “I’m sorry.” The young man’s face split into a bright, wide smile. He said, “I’m Rory.” “Oh Rory, I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you. You’ve really grown up.” “Yeah, four years in the Army and couple of combat tours will do that to a guy.” “I heard you had gotten wounded Afghanistan. Your mother was quite upset.” Rory held up his left hand. His pinky finger was missing. He chuckled, “Ain’t nothing, but a thing.” “Ouch,” I said, cringing. He was ready to change the subject and with sincerity said, “I really was sorry to hear about your divorce. I ...