1. First Date After


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

    heard your son took it pretty hard.” My husband and I had split up soon after my son had started college. I sighed and explained, “Yes, he did take it hard. He didn’t come home for any of the holidays last year because he was not going to choose one parent over the other. Now, he’s punishing his father and I by staying on campus all summer. He did manage to get some kind of internship, so maybe something positive will come from it.” I took a sip of tea then asked, “So when did you get home from the Army?” “A couple of months ago, I just started as a paramedic with the city’s emergency services.” “Well good for you. Are you dating anyone?” “Nope,” his tone carried a note of sadness. He nodded his head in the direction of a couple of young women who were fully engrossed in conversation. With a frown, he said, “The biggest worry for Buffy and Barbie over there is what style of shoe to wear to this little soiree. They don’t have a clue about life.” I chuckled, “Women like to be fashionable so they can attract the good looking guys.” “Let’s talk about the guys. They are actually worse than the girls,” replied Rory, nodding towards a young man across the way. He added, “Dufus, over there, actually asked me if real combat was as rough as it looked in a video game. It took every ounce of my restraint not to punch his lights out.” “They’re young,” I offered. “No, they’re superficial,” he countered, glaring. After I nodded in agreement, his gaze softened and he asked, “What about ...
    you, are you seeing anyone?” My eyebrows shot up in surprise and I declared, “Goodness no. My divorce was ugly and emotionally draining. I haven’t even thought about dating.” “You should,” said Rory, locking his eyes with mine. Unnerved by his gaze, I stammered, “What? Date? I’m not ready to date.” “Why not?” “It’s only been a year. You don’t know how emotionally traumatizing a divorce can be.” Rory held up his left hand with its missing digit. Shrugging, he said with a sad weariness, “Divorce, I don’t know. But, trauma, I do know a little something about it.” “Touché,” I exclaimed, imagining some of the horrors of war Rory had undoubtedly witnessed. I grabbed his bicep and gave it an empathetic squeeze. “In fact, you should go out with me.” My mouth fell open in amazement. Uncertain, I dropped my hand from his arm. I didn’t know what to think and wondered if he was joking. Looking into Rory’s face, I gauged his sincerity. My heart skipped a beat. I liked that he desired me, yet I was full of reservations. Finally, I stammered, “You can’t be serious. I’m old enough to be your mother.” “So what?” Rory laughed with a cavalier attitude. Then more seriously, he said, “It’s interesting how we become so conditioned by societal pressure that we automatically react to situations just the way society dictates. We don’t notice it until someone else points it out to us. It becomes instinctive like blinking our eyes.” “What does that even mean?” I asked with a grimace. “You shouldn’t be ...
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