Not lonely anymore - Sex Stories

Not lonely anymore

... which touched the old man so deeply, she was shocked and a little dismayed to see tears stream down the plump cheeks of the large old man. His chest and belly shook as he sobbed her family name and confessed that the young soldier from so many years ago was indeed himself! Having witnessed so much hardship and horror fighting in the wars there and being so very touched by her father's kindness and understanding, the man had left the Army and returned to his small home town and opened a peaceful library, swearing to do nothing for the rest of his life but give happiness and knowledge to the world where once he gave only anger and war. Never marrying out of shame for his actions as a youth, the man had aged and grown fat and lonely, his only companions being his books. The girl stood shocked and amazed at this revelation! Never would she have guessed that Fate would bring her face-to-face with the man her father had helped find his humanity. Solemnly, the young girl wrapped as much of her arms as she could around the heaving belly of the old man and hugged him tightly, feeling his own tree-trunk arms envelope her and his bushy gray beard mash down on her silky hair as he bent down to clasp her to him. After long moments of a tender, loving embrace, the old man let the young girl gently go and stood back, smiling gamely as he adjusted his tweed coat and straightened his bow-tie, wiping the tears from behind his thick glasses. Clearing his throat, he began merrily talking to her, ...

... asking questions about her and her family and what had become of them, of her journey and her studies, all while closing down the Library lights and locking the front door for the night. As the old man lived in the back of the Library, he invited her to forego the expense of a hotel and insisted that she be his guest in his humble home, determined to make her as comfortable and contented as she would be in her own home in Thailand. As they cheerfully cooked their meal in his tiny kitchen and ate, she laughed at tales he told of him and her father as young men and he marveled at her stories of growing up and travelling. All too soon it was late in the evening and the bottle of wine from dinner was joined by another for desert and the two very different strangers were now bosom friends, sitting on the carpeted floor in front of a crackling fireplace, his enormous frame propped against a couch and her smaller one nestled under his massive arm, her head resting on his shoulder as they looked into the fire and just sat, quiet and happy, saying very little. The girl began thinking of this sweet old man and as she looked about, her heart swelled as she thought of such a gentle soul, so thirsty for love and companionship, so strong and quiet in his enduring his solitude. Turning over to her side towards him, she lay her arm over his belly, her hand like a small butterfly that drifted down, brushing over the top of his waistband. She looked up into his face that was so near hers, his ...