A couple of times a
week after finishing work, he liked to go a vegetarian restaurant
around the corner and have some dinner on his own. It was always
there just after it opened and he liked the quiet of the place before
the evening rush started. He’d take the newspaper, find a quiet
corner table and read about the state of the world as he munched on
some lentils and black rice.
There was a young
waitress he’d got to know over the last few months. She was a
student at the local college earning a few bucks and he loved seeing
her smiling face as she took his order. I guess that’s what good
service is about. A smile and a friendly attitude. But somehow he
felt there was more to that smile. She was blonde and cute and old
enough to maybe be his granddaughter, so he dismissed these warm
feelings he was getting from her as just his overactive imagination.
Why would a cute girl like her be interested in an old man like
himself? Young women like her don’t crave old men, and besides she
probably liked the big tip he always left for her.
But then, as time
went by, she seemed to be spending more time chatting to him when
she severed him. He was really getting the impression she enjoyed
hearing about his life. He certainly enjoyed hearing about hers. She
seemed to have a lot of friends, but there was never any talk of a
serious boyfriend. The more he got to know her, the more an aching
thought at the back of his mind kept prodding him with the idea of
asking her out. No, no, that was crazy. She’d just recoil in horror
and he could never go to that restaurant again because of the
And then one day,
she talked to him even longer as usual, and just after she gave him
the check, she asked him the question he’d never forget: “Would you
like to do something on Sunday?” He was totally flummoxed by this.
It took a few seconds to process what she said, but he finally said
“Yes, I’d love to!” She slipped him his telephone number and he
walked out that night wondering if there was another universe no one
had told him existed and he’d accidentally stepped into.
That was three
months ago. And now the two of them are inseparable. They sleep
together. They make love together. They eat together. They argue
together and they love together. When she’s at college and he’s at work, they text each
other constantly. She goes into the rest room between classes sometimes and
sends pictures of her wet pussy to him and tells him how much she’s
looking forward to having his old cock deep inside it when they get
home. He watches the clock wishing the hands would move faster. She calls him ‘daddy’ and he calls her his ‘little girl’. Yes,
there’s a parallel universe and neither of them want to leave it.