The Time Had Come
mf


"The time has come," the Walrus said, "To talk of many things. Of shoes --
and ships -- and sealing wax, Of cabbages -- and kings -- And why the sea is
boiling hot, And whether pigs have wings."


Yes, it was time. Time to get rid of politeness and pretense and cut to the
chase. The odds of me finding another love interest anytime soon were
starting to look like the odds of pigs fluttering outside my window at
night. Damned close to zero, that is. 35-year-old single mothers have more
than one major handicap in the dating scene, no matter how tall and slim and
young-looking we are.

So I got the slinkiest dress I own out of the closet, a nice little backless
halter dress in plain black, some patterned stockings left over from a trip
to Europe, black pumps and got busy.

The event was a science fiction convention, not normally known as a good
pick-up area, but it is if you're female looking for brains over body. I was
hoping to find a good combination thereof.

And, if not, the backless nature of the dress meant that I would be getting
a lot of free backrubs in any case.

I wandered the convention in normal street clothes (i.e. jeans and a
sweater), learning my hunting grounds and making lists in my head of parties
to check out, places that seemed to have possibility. And there were plenty
of good possibilities, strong young scantily clad men who would be eager for
my company, once I got into costume.

I found a friend who had a room at the hotel, and arranged to use it to
change. I'd known Patrick for about ten years, ever since he got into the SF
club as a freshman. Of course, I had been out of college and married for
about a year at that point, so he was somehow classified as a kid in my
mind. Ten years later, a divorce behind me, he was a kid no longer, and
looking very nice himself.

He disappeared into the bathroom, and I assumed this meant it was safe for
me to change in the larger room. I took off my jeans and was putting on my
stockings when he walked out. Oops. Oh, well, it was too late now, and
strict modesty has never been a strong point with me. So I just finished
putting them on, carefully not looking at him. He could decide for himself
whether or not to watch me. I have to presume that he did.

I finished undressing/dressing, which took about a minute and a half, then
got my belongings in order. Now it was safe to look at Patrick again, and I
was not disappointed. He wasn't quite drooling, but his expression showed
obvious approval.

Of course, he looked pretty good too. He's about 6'2", with blue eyes and
blond curly hair. Dressed as he was, in a tunic and tights, with lace-up
boots, he was a sight to behold. On impulse, I put my arm in his, and we
went off to party-hop.

There were a lot of good ones at this convention. One group had brought in
their home-brewed beer, and they offered free tastings in exchange for
critique. The Ferengi party was in high form, with their "Oxygen" and
"Betelgeuse Punch". I'm not sure of all of the ingredients, but I have to
think that Everclear played a major role in the Punch. In short order the
world was looking very rosy, and I switched over to Coca-Cola.

Meanwhile, every man I knew was endeavoring to get behind me to rub my
shoulders. Cool. Carrying around a 30 lb. two-year-old had put knots that
wouldn't quit into them. Between the massage and the liquor, they were
relaxing quite nicely.

Around then, a ghost from the past in the form of my ex-husband, Brian,
showed up, and I decided it would be best to check out some other party.
Patrick and another friend, Sue, came with me. We happened to walk past
Patrick's room again, and Sue wanted to stop to use the bathroom. So we did.

While we were waiting for her, Patrick put his arms around me, and gave me a
kiss. Hmmm.... This was definitely a postive sign. I put my arms around him
and fondled his velvet-tights-clad bottom, which I had been wanting to do
for a while now, like a couple of years, ever since he started wearing them.
Nice. I wished I hadn't waited so long.

Sue came out of the bathroom, and I went in. Then Patrick. Sue told me that
she was experiencing success of her own that night on the romantic front.
This was good news. I told her I didn't know how things were going, but
there were several positive developments in the form of backrubs and
nuzzling and stuff.

She looked at me slyly, like she had suddenly discovered some secret I
didn't know, and said, "I don't think you have *anything* to worry about." I
was about to ask what she meant when Patrick emerged. Sue looked at the two
of us, and said, "I have to go find David. I'll see you later." Not quite
winking, but definitely smirking. She was vastly more perceptive than I was.

So, Sue was gone, we were alone in the hotel room again. We sat on the bed
talking about the past and how phantoms from my closet seemed to be coming
out of the woodwork, all happily married and so on, while I was having no
luck at all.

Then suddenly, somehow, his mouth was on mine, our arms around each other,
and we were lying down instead of sitting on the bed. I let my hands drift
down to savor the feel of his buns through the velvet...ah. He was exploring
my bare back with his fingertips...ah. His tongue was licking my lips; he
tasted of bittersweet dark beer and coffee...yum.

His beard was soft against my face; I rolled my head a bit to feel it. I
love beards.

He pulled my dress up; a moment's work and my stockings were gone. His hand
found my crotch, and knowing fingers hand me writhing in an instant. Oh
heavens. I lay atop him, fucking his fingers while I kissed him wherever
there was skin within reach. Oh wow. If this is how he can make me feel with
just his fingers....I'm in big trouble. Help. I should run. Yeah, right. I
was coming already, I still had most of my clothes on, and he had *all* of
his clothes on. Oh, my.

His hands were on my breasts, feeling them through the textured material of
the dress. We were both becoming frustrated with the presence of the
fabric--I wanted his bare hands on my body, and so did he. An easy solution:
I ducked my head and pulled the strap of the halter over my head. He pushed
it down, and softly fondled my now bare breasts. I am not what you could
call voluptuous, but they do exist. He squeezed and kissed them, and I
gasped with pleasure.

I pulled his tunic up, and he finished the job, pulling it over his head. I
was rewarded by the sight of even more curly blond hair, all over his chest
and stomach. I love furry men. Maybe it's some sort of Pooh Bear connection
from my babyhood, but I just love the feel of hair against my body. If I
ever got a fur coat, I would want to wear it fur-side in.

He unzipped my dress and finished removing it. I reached out and touched
that fabulous furry chest in front of me, gently rubbing his nipples as I
did, and was rewarded with a small moan of pleasure.

His tights were clearly visible now, and there was a thick bulge waiting for
my attention. I pulled him close, rubbing his tights with my hands and then
my face. The velvet so soft, the cock inside so hard. I pulled the tights
back a bit to reveal only the head and took it in my mouth.

He was already slick and wet from pre-cum. I pushed his pants down some
more, trying to get it all in my mouth. As I worked, he got longer and
longer. My mind was boggling. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. I sucked him in, deeper
and deeper. Nope, I wasn't going to get it all, and I needed to stop to
breathe.

"You're pretty big, you know? I mean, larger than the average bear, as it
were," I commented to fill the space.

"Coming from you, I'll believe it," he replied. He took advantage of the
pause to pull my legs apart, and arrange himself beneath me. His mouth found
my clit, and I was off again. There was this big, marvelous cock before me,
and I took him in my mouth and played. I didn't want him to come in my
mouth, so I didn't work too hard, but I took him in deep, down into my
throat, and swallowed. My throat closing on him caused groans of
pleasure...mmmm.

I was coming again. Huh? What brought this on? Ah, his fingers had found my
ass. My ass is so sensitive, if you play with it while sucking my clit,
well, it sends me off in no time. And off I was, panting (as well as I could
with my mouth full), bucking atop him, infinitely aware of his mouth, his
fingers, the hair on his body, his cock in my mouth. Oh god oh god oh
dear....

I wanted him inside me. I wanted that monster shoved up my cunt, now! I was
barely coherent. Oh man. I struggled up and turned around. Oops, bad move,
no birth control since the divorce. Time out for a condom search. Yes! I'd
picked one up at a party a couple hours before. A moment's work, sucking the
tip to moisten it and get him rock hard again, and down I sat, taking him in
as fast as I could, and wiggling to get him all the way in.

Oh, he felt good! I leaned forward and kissed him, tasting my juices on his
lips. I find the flavor of myself on someone else intoxicating. I plastered
myself against him, rocking my hips gently, tangling my fingers in that
wonderful hair, trying to feel him, all of him, everywhere, all at once.

He was thrumming my nipples with his thumbs. More! I sat back to give him
better access, and watched his face through slitted eyes. He was looking at
me, looking at my face, my body. I put my hands down to steady myself, and
found his nipples, hard. I lay my palms against his chest, rubbing, like I
might if he had breasts which he doesn't but if he did...and caressing his
nipples like he was mine, and it all put me over the edge again, or maybe
the throbbing of his cock did, because he lurched and then arched backward,
groaning as he thrust upward into me, quaking and trembling.

I lay atop him. I touched his chest, his face, his ears. His jewelry had
fallen off at some point; pity, that. We rolled sideways, him onto his side
and me on my back. We looked down at our bodies, no longer joined. There
were some little hairs on my belly--wonder where they came from???

He tried brushing them off. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Comes with the territory," I said disparagingly.
He looked at me quizzically. "I like furry men," I noted. I wiggled my nose
in his chest. "Yum. In magazines, they always have the guy shaved or waxed
or something. Why? They're into pedophilia, or what?"

He looked at me oddly. "I've never had anyone *like* it before. Tolerate,
yes, but not *like* it." From his expression, I had either just sprouted a
second head, or this relationship had just moved up a notch. Well. I kissed
him. I knew which way I wanted that either-or to fall....!

"Ah, we should get back to the con," I said. "I suppose," he said
doubtfully. "But I think I need to rinse off first." I raised my eyebrows at
him. We headed for the shower.

And rinsed off. Furry men covered with soap are at least as yummy to look at
as any other time. I rinsed, he watched; he rinsed, I watched. Control,
girl, control. We have other things to do here. Just disappearing for the
night would be bad. Your son will get neglected; rumors will start. Well,
rumors will start anyway: Sue was in the room when all this started, and she
seemed to know more about where we were headed than we did! We finished,
demurely got dressed again, and went out.

We wandered into the party of some friends. Sue was there, still smirking,
with a hunk of her own on her arm. However, in short order I was trapped by
my ex, who was telling me of his plans to move in with his girlfriend, and
how well his book was selling. I didn't need to hear this. I looked around
for Patrick, but he had gone missing. Where, I didn't know. Fine. I headed
out just to wander, maybe to find him, but mostly to avoid Brian.

And find Patrick I did a short time later, in the middle of a hall. He
accused me of being hard to find. No comment. I will take the compliment
that he was looking for me, thank you. We held hands and walked down the
corridor.

All too soon it was time for babysitting to close and me to head home. I
went back to his room and put on my street clothes, packed up the slinky
things. We cuddled briefly, and he assured me that I didn't have to go back
to the city if I didn't want to, and I was sorely tempted. But I had work to
do on the morrow, and besides, I was not going to have a night of wild sex
with my son in the same room. That would just be bad. I took a can of Jolt
Cola instead and got my things.

So he walked me to child care, and then out to my car. We got my son and
things stowed, and stood in the parking lot kissing like a couple of
teenagers. Some things you just never outgrow, I guess. His body felt so
good, pressed against mine, and with his soft beard caressing my face and
neck, I didn't want to let go. Ever.

But I had to go back to reality. Sigh.

Maybe he would call. Maybe pigs would sprout wings and fly, but you never
know. Is that oinking I hear outside my window?