For all her intelligence, my daughter is not very smart. The evidence for that is sitting on a chaise lounge next to me, Evan, her ex-boyfriend. Evan would have made the perfect son-in-law. He's dashingly handsome with thick chesnut-brown hair, warm brown eyes, a sly, movie-star grin, and a chin that people pay surgeons to duplicate. His physique matches his face well. He has a gymnast's build: lean and sinewy, broad shoulders and strong arms, perfectly developed pecs, abs right off a Greek statue, narrow waist, and (so I can stop gushing) great legs. He's got a brain to go with that body, and he's such an asture young businessman that I'm very lucky to have him working for me.
Don't get me wrong. I am proud of Rosanna. She is a smart and talented young woman, but to throw away this fine specimen of manhood was just foolishness--and my luck to catch him.
He was a wreck when I found him pounding on my front door at two o'clock in the morning. A thunderstorm was rumbling through, lightning flashed and it was pouring. Evan was standing on my front porch, screaming "Rosanna!" at the top of his lungs. It was a good thing I drove up then or the neighbors would have called the police.
It was raining and he was soaked. Apparently, he'd been there for a while. I took him inside and directed him to the bathroom. I ordered him to take off his clothes, then went to my bedroom to get him a robe.
I had seen Evan only a few times while Rosanna dated him. They started dating three years ago when both of them were in college. Rosanna studied art and Evan was going for his business degree. I met him when I dropped by for a visit. They hadn't known each for long and, in fact, she had introduced him simply as her friend. I was attracted to him, but he was awfully young then and I thought he seemed straight as an arrow.
By the end of that school year, things had gotten serious between them. Rosanna told me she was in love with him, so I asked her to invite him up to spend the summer at our place in Grosse Point. He said that he could only spend a week there because he had an internship with a management firm in Chicago coming up.
I got a first look at his body when he went swimming. His body wasn't as defined or as hairy then, but still youthful and a little soft. I was attracted, but immediately dismissed any thought of doing anything because of my daughter, mostly, and I simply considered him too young for me. Something inside told me that a 50-year-old man should not pursue a 25-year old.
When I returned with the robe he was naked, drying his hair with a towel. His face was covered so he didn't see me checking his body out. His nipples were erect and his cock and scrotum had contracted and looked cute.
"Evan," I said, and he quickly draped the towel in front of his crotch. "You can put this on." I handed him the robe.
"Thanks," he replied, sniffling. He turned away to put it on and I took a quick look at his ass. Perfection.
He looked quite dashing in my luxurious, burgundy-colored Dior robe, even though his thick hair was tousled and his eyes were bleary from sobbing.
"Would you like a drink, Evan? Pop, coffee, a cocktail? Anything."
He thought a moment then said, "Scotch with a splash?" I was a bit surprised at his choice. Scotch didn't seem like a young man's drink.
"Sure thing. Come, let's go to the living room."
I led him to the living room and offered him a seat on the sofa. Then I went to the bar to fix us each a scotch.
"So, do you feel like talking about why you were in my front yard screaming in the rain for my daughter?" I poured our drinks, then stepped over to the sofa and sat down next to him. He took a sip of his drink then put it down. "I'm just guessing here, but I gather she dumped you."
He sighed, and said, finally, "Yeah, she dumped me. I don't know why. I thought everything was going well." He broke down crying and leaned over on my shoulder.
In between sobs he told me about the last few weeks in their relationship. It was almost a play-by-play of the last weeks of my marriage. Evan was concentrating too much on his career; Rosanna felt neglected, then they grew distant. Then, a few nights ago, she told him she was seeing another guy and that their relationship was over. Evan begged her for another chance but she rejected him. Then he drove all night to get here because he thought she was here.
What could I say to him? I had no clue that she was breaking up with him. I stroked his head, hoping that would be enough to comfort him.
"Listen, Evan, you can stay here tonight."
He sniffled "Thanks."
"Sometimes my daughter doesn't know what a good thing she has until it's gone. She gets that from her mother. Come on."
I stood up. He looked up at me with a grateful expression and smiled slightly. He took his drink and gestured for me to lead him upstairs.
I led him to the guest bedroom. He sat down on the bed and took a few more sips of his scotch.
"Will you be all right in here?" I asked, while eyeing his chest that was showing through the opening of the robe.
"I'll be OK. Thanks for letting me crash. It's a long, lonely ride back to Oakdale."
"Think nothing of it. Just have a good night's sleep."
He looked up at me again with that grateful look and it seemed as if he wanted to say something else.
"Thanks, Mr. Cabot."
"Evan, call me Alex."
He smiled and said, "Thanks, Alex."
I went to bed thinking about the handsome young man sleeping in the next room, replaying in my mind the sight of him standing naked in the bathroom. If I had less self-control I would have gone down on my knees and started sucking his cock right there.
I remembered back to about a year ago. It was an odd bit of luck that I got to tickets to the ballet in Chicago. I knew that Rosanna hated the ballet. I had learned that Evan loved classical music while he was at Grosse Point so I decided to invite him along. I'm sure he thought it was a good way to score points with his girlfriend's dad.
Our "date" went well. Evan enjoyed dinner and the ballet, but he seemed very nervous. I didn't know whether it was just being with me, his girlfriend's dad, or if it was from some of the looks we were getting at the restaurant and at theater. I supposed that they thought we were a gay couple, which I found ironic.
After the ballet, we hit a few bars and we got toasted. We took a cab back to my condo apartment on State. It belongs to the company and my top people and I use it to entertain or accommodate important guests.
Evan surprised me by stripping down in front of me as he got ready for bed. He was still fairly tipsy and unsteady as he struggled out of clothes. He stumbled trying to get his pants off but I caught him. He laughed, slightly embarrassed, then stood up. When he was stripped down to his shorts and socks he tottered off to the bedrooms. I was chuckling when he turned to ask for directions. I walked over to him and escorted him to his bedroom. We walked to the bed and he flopped down. He fell asleep almost right away, without getting under the covers. This gave me a chance to take a good look at his body.
I was not usually attracted to younger guys, but I certainly made an exception for Evan. I committed every inch of his sculpted physique to memory. I was tempted to strip off his briefs but an image of a horrified Rosanna flashed in my mind. I walked out of his room to mine.
I admitted to myself that I was falling in love with him. That night was the most fun I'd had in years. Evan was such wonderful company, and then to see him almost naked. The only thing that would have made it perfect would have been if we had made love.
That night I masturbated for the first time since I was a kid. I fantasized that Evan and I were making love on the lakeshore at Grosse Point. I wanted to kiss him passionately. I wanted to feel the strength of his muscular body. I wanted to taste his cock and watch him devour mine. I wanted to shove my cock in his ass then feel him penetrate me. I blew my wad in a matter of moments, with the image of Evan on his back, legs up, with my cock pumping in and out of his tight hole.
