I was 42 years old when it all began. At the time I was living alone and kind of out in the boonies, about eighteen miles outside of city limits. I enjoyed the peace and quiet. There was nothing better than coming home after a long day at work and trading the constant bustle and noise of town for the solitude of the rural countryside.
It was late winter and I was driving home one night around seven o'clock, so it was already pretty dark out. I noticed a girl on the side of the road hitching. Now, where I live its not a good idea to stop in that situation. Many a guy like myself (and quite a few women) have pulled over to offer assistance, only to be robbed or worse by the guys hiding while the girl acts as bait to lure you in. But it was winter and the fields weren't full of corn or tall grasses like hay yet. I could see around pretty well and I didn't see anyone else, so I pulled over onto the shoulder about 20 feet in front of her and she ran up to the car.
I asked where she was headed and she shrugged. She looked Punjabi and spoke with an accent. She told me her parents were forcing her to marry an older man that she'd never even met before and that she'd run away from home. I told her that was awful, but she was in the United States and couldn't be forced into a marriage here. She laughed without humor and said, oh yes she could. I didn't understand her culture. Her parents were going to fly her back to India that very week for the marriage.
We drove in silence for a while, then I realized I was still headed home and this girl hadn't told me where she wanted to go. I told her she could stay with me if she wanted to. At least until she figured things out. She thought about my offer for quite a while, so much so that we were practically at the turnoff for my place before she accepted.
What followed were several days in which she watched me like a hawk and occasionally jumped when I'd surprise her by walking into a room or speaking when she'd been deep in thought. When she finally realized I wasn't a rapist or a serial killer, she relaxed quite a bit.
I noticed she didn't think too highly of my cooking, so I knew of this little placed called the Mumbai Bazaar in the stripmall near my job. It had an Indian deli inside. I began bringing her home Indian food. Samosas and Aloo Ghobi, Palak Paneer, and Chana Masala. She loved that. I got a kick out of the way she'd grab the styrofoam tray and vanish into the guest room with it, because she was embarrassed to wolf it down in front of me.
I found out her first name was Dipendra, and she was only thirteen years old. I'd confided my situation to my older brother and he'd already told me to get the girl out of my house and take her right back to where I'd picked her up. She was a jail term just waiting to happen. But I couldn't bring myself to do that. And truth was, I enjoyed the company after being alone for so long.
Days turned into weeks and the weeks finally became a month. Dipendra and I had settled down into a pretty normal routine at home. I worked and she cleaned and began cooking meals. She'd give me lists to take to the Mumbai Bazaar, where I started seeing her picture on a "Have you seen me??" flier. Then she'd prepare Indian food in the kitchen. She was a damn good cook. Most of the food was too salty and spicy for me, but it smelled great and despite my borderline hypertension I always tried a little of it.
One night around midnight I was lying in bed, just starting to doze when I felt her pull the covers back and slide in beside me. I was surprised, especially when she snuggled up against me and put an arm around my middle. I was still worried about her thinking I might be an old pervert, so I didn't touch her. The same thing happened the next night. Finally I came home and found her preparing dinner with a frown on her face. She was mad at me.
I asked what was wrong and she stared at me a long time with her big dark chocolate colored eyes. Well, she began, either I am unappealing or you are gay. Which is it?? I wasn't sure what she was talking about. I said so. She rolled her eyes and made a frustrated sound, I have been offering myself to you for two nights now and you won't touch me or even look at me. So I must be very ugly in your eyes or you are a gay!
I had no idea thats what she'd been up to. I told her I wasn't gay and she was very beautiful, I just didn't want her to think I was a dirty old man. She laughed. If I thought you were a dirty old man I would have left a long time ago.
I walked over to her and kissed her forehead, my hands squeezing her shoulders gently. "You are beautiful" I repeated and then leaned down and kissed her. She smiled and kissed me back. Thats better, she said and pushed me away. Now go take a shower while I finish dinner.
The whole time I showered I debated screwing her. We had nearly thirty years age difference between us. Hadn't she run away from one old man?? What did she need with me?? My brother's warning kept echoing in my head too. Still, I couldn't deny that now that she'd made the offer I really wanted to fuck her.
I didn't eat much at dinner. Afterwards we sat on the couch together, with her climbing onto my lap and putting her arms around my neck. I asked her wasn't I an old man too?? She laughed and said yes, but at least she had chosen me. She wasn't being forced into anything and that made all the difference.
We started kissing and I cupped one of her breasts with a hand. I wanted her bad. We ended up on the floor, with her on the bottom and her legs wrapped around me while I lay on top. I was slowly grinding up against her while we kissed. I finally stopped before I shot off in my pants and suggested we go into the bedroom. Once there, we undressed and I screwed her. She got really wet, really turned on. She wanted more. And she wanted it rougher and more raw. So we did it again and this time we worked up a sweat, beat indentations into the wall with my headboard and talking dirty to one another.
After that we were making love every chance we got, and she turned into a wild little thing in the bedroom. She liked being spanked, having her hair pulled, being choked during orgasm, being fucked in the ass. I started to worry I wouldn't be able to keep up with her.
That was back in the late 1990s. Since then she's become a legal adult and we even got married, although our age difference turns a lot of heads. We have 1 daughter and she's just as beautiful as her mother. Unfortunately, she'll never know her mother's side of the family. They refuse to have anything to do with either of them, with her Dipendra's father going so far as to say he should kill her for dishonoring the family. I'm 58 now, and glad to say I can still keep pace with Dipendra. But man, does she make me feel my age some nights.