"And this," Peyton said to me, "is the Ring Nebula. Have a look, Gloria."

I moved closer to peer through the eyepiece of his eight-inch Dobsonian telescope. "Oh, wow, I see it! It looks just like a smoke ring!"

I could hear the smile in Peyton's voice as he said, "That's M57."

"M57?" I continued studying the nebula, marveling at the fact that I could so clearly see a celestial object that was such a vast distance away.

"That's the way the Ring Nebula is designated in the Messier Catalogue," Peyton explained. "If you decide to take up astronomy as a hobby, you'll want to keep a record of all the Messier objects you observe."

Lifting my head, I gave Peyton my most charming smile, but the effort was mostly wasted since we were standing in a dark field out in the countryside, away from all the light pollution. The land belonged to a friend of Peyton's, who said he was welcome to use it any time he wanted to stargaze.

"How do you know all this stuff?" I asked. I was almost as dazzled by Peyton's breadth of knowledge as I was by the objects he showed me with his telescope.

"Well, I've been interested in astronomy since I was a teenager," Peyton said. "Before you were born."

My smile quickly faded. I was twenty-two, and Peyton was forty. Not even two decades separated us in age, but he made it sound like fifty years.

I knew that was partly my fault. After graduating from college a couple of months ago, I'd returned to my hometown. Not only was I mostly broke, but I had student loans to repay, so I was living with my parents in lieu of renting an apartment. I'd managed to find a job, though it didn't make much use of my four-year degree. Still, it was a steady paycheck, and I was grateful to find work when so many of my friends were stuck in endless interview purgatory.

Soon after I moved back home, I got the chance to meet Peyton, a colleague of my mom's. He'd started working at her office back in the spring, and they became quick friends. Though she'd occasionally mentioned him during our calls and texts while I was still at school, I didn't give their friendship much thought.

And then Mom invited him over to have dinner with us one night in early June. He arrived with a bottle of her favorite wine, and a six-pack of beer for Dad. I could so easily remember the first time I laid eyes on the man. It was as if he immediately had some kind of invisible hold over me. I wanted to touch him, and to breathe in his scent.

Most of all, I wanted to feel his hands on me.

It wasn't like Peyton was movie-star gorgeous or anything. I guessed he was around six feet tall, and he had an average build. With his dark hair and deep blue eyes, he was good-looking in a way I would have noticed only briefly if I'd passed him on the street.

But when he first greeted me, saying my name in that rich, sonorous voice of his, I literally ached for him! It manifested as a tightness in my chest, behind my breastbone. I'd been in several romantic relationships during college, one of them serious enough to last the entirety of my sophomore year. Yet I'd never felt such an instant need for someone. His gestures, and the way he moved... he was almost elegant, making me feel downright clumsy in comparison. And he knew so much about so many things! Still, he wasn't a show-off. If anything, he was a little self-deprecating.

When Peyton mentioned his interest in astronomy during our conversation at the dinner table, I saw my chance. "Oh, I would love to stargaze with you sometime!" I told him.

He glanced at Mom, as if seeking her permission. She merely smiled before taking a sip of wine. I wondered if Peyton noticed the resemblance between me and my mother. Her hair was a darker brown than mine, and her eyes were green, while mine were hazel, but we still looked a lot alike. I'd definitely inherited her voluptuous figure. Mom was always thrilled when people mistook us for sisters.

"I'll be sure to let you know next time I head out to the country with the telescope," Peyton finally said to me.

A month went by, and I'd almost given up on hearing from him. But now, he and I were spending Saturday night together. Before he'd picked me up earlier this evening, Mom pulled me aside. She spoke in a low voice Dad couldn't overhear, her critical stare moving over my outfit. I was wearing shorts that revealed a lot of thigh, and my tank top was tight over my large breasts. "I know you have a little crush on Peyton," she said, "but I want you to be on your best behavior around him, Gloria. He's too old for you."

"Mom, I'm twenty-two, not a teenager!" I struggled to keep my voice down. 

"And," she went on as if I hadn't spoken, "he got divorced a year ago, so he certainly isn't looking for a new relationship right now." I opened my mouth to respond, but she stopped me. "Finally, he and I work together, and we're friends. I don't want things to be awkward between us."

My face burned with embarrassment. It was as if my mom knew exactly what I'd hoped to do with Peyton that night. Pulling free of her grasp, I let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, I'll behave!"

Though I prayed Mom hadn't had a similar talk with Peyton, I began to fear the worst when he arrived at our house at eight-thirty. Darting outside before he had a chance to reach the door, I was hyperaware of the way my breasts bounced while I bounded down the porch steps. I'd hoped my skimpy outfit would encourage him to ogle me, but he kept his stare fixed on my face.

"You might get chilly once night falls," he told me. He was sensibly dressed in jeans and a polo shirt. "Do you want to grab a jacket?"

"I'm fine!" I said breezily. No way was I going back inside so Mom could lecture me more.

During the drive, Peyton and I made casual conversation. I found he was easy to talk to, and I made a point to ask him lots of questions about his job and other hobbies. All the while, I was careful not to mention anything that would hint at his recent divorce. Each time he laughed at a clever remark I made, I felt a warmth deep in my belly.

Now, as Peyton sought out another deep-sky object for me to see through the telescope, I wished I'd been more subtle from the start. With his pointed comment about our age difference, he seemed intent on rejecting an advance I hadn't yet made.

I grew uncharacteristically quiet, but he filled in the silence. "Check this out, Gloria. It's M27, the Dumbbell Nebula."

I sure as hell felt like a dumbbell at that moment, but I oohed and aahed over the nebula while looking through the eyepiece. "That's a perfect name for it!" It really did resemble a dumbbell! "And it's a pretty green shade, too."

Peyton went on to explain the reason for its color, but I wasn't listening closely; I was too distracted by his nearness. The warmth radiating from his skin made me shiver with pleasure.

"Are you cold?" he asked. "I think I have a jacket in the car."

"I'm not cold." Turning toward him, I continued in a soft voice, "And I'm not some naïve idiot, you know."

The shadows made it hard to discern his expression. "I know," he replied, his voice just as soft.

"I graduated from college, and I have a full-time job. Right now, I'm saving up for my own place. So what's wrong with me being attracted to you?"

His sharp intake of breath made it clear I'd surprised him. He stood so still at my side, as if he was afraid to move. "Gloria," he began, "you're a smart, funny, beautiful young woman. Any man would be thrilled to have your attention."

"Not you, though," I muttered.

"That's not true," he quietly insisted. "It's just that I'm so much older, and you have your whole life ahead of you."

I busied myself with looking at the nebula again. "Christ, I'm not talking about marriage, Peyton."

"And I consider your mother a dear friend. Scarlett showed me the ropes when we started working together, and she went out of her way to be kind to me. I'll never forget that."

"We're both adults." My neck was starting to ache a little, so I reluctantly looked up. "We don't have to tell my mother every detail of what we do together."

He sighed, and I figured he was regretting inviting me here. "Scarlett trusts me," he said. "So does your father. I don't want to betray that trust."

I said nothing, for all of my talking had done me absolutely no favors.

"Let me show you one more thing." Peyton's tone was now lighter, but I wondered if he could sense that I was ready to leave. I stepped aside and watched him maneuver the telescope. "Ah, here it is! Take a look."

Wordlessly, I obeyed. As soon as I gazed through the eyepiece, I let out an astonished cry. "It's beautiful!"

"That's M51, the Whirlpool Galaxy." He sounded almost reverent, as if we were in church.

"I can make out the spiral shape!" My excitement helped alleviate a little of the disappointment still gnawing at me. "Oh, Peyton, thank you so much for giving me the chance to see this!"

I sensed him move to stand behind me. "You're very welcome. And do you see the small companion galaxy beside it?"

"I do, yes!" I was unable to hide my delight.

"Those two galaxies act upon each other," Peyton said softy. "They shape each other."

I started when he lifted my hair off my neck. Somehow, I managed not to jostle the telescope out of focus. When I started to raise my head, Peyton whispered, "Keep looking, Gloria."

I did exactly as he said, my eyes widening at his touch. My mind raced with a thousand questions while I focused on the bright center of the Whirlpool Galaxy, along with its graceful arms.

Then I felt Peyton's lips against my neck. Releasing a faint moan, I grew desperate to turn toward him, but I feared breaking the spell between us. 

"Keep looking," he repeated. "Later on tonight, when you close your eyes just before falling asleep, I want you to be able to see those galaxies as clearly as you do now."

I was breathing faster, trembling with need. When Peyton slipped his hands beneath my tank top, I struggled to remain motionless. His palms glided over my waist and stomach before moving upward. Another moan, far louder this time, emerged from my throat as he teased my nipples through the lacy bra I wore.

"You think I don't want you?" he asked me in that same low voice. "You couldn't be more wrong."

I actually whimpered when he gently lifted my breasts out of the bra's cups. His mouth was hungry on my neck, his tongue swirling over my skin. Already, I'd grown wet between my thighs. I would have let him take me then and there, but he satisfied himself with fondling my tits. The feel of him tugging my nipples and rolling those peaks between his fingers made me gasp.

I had no shame, not then. "Please!" I cried.

"Have you touched yourself while imagining me, Gloria?"

"So many times!" I readily confessed. I heard Peyton's quiet laugher and knew he was pleased. While tenderly kneading my left breast, he slid his right hand downward.  I held my breath, wild with anticipation.

Peyton slipped his hand into my shorts and panties. Now it was his turn to moan when he discovered how wet I was. His fingers spread my smooth outer lips apart in order to explore my inner folds.

I lifted my head, unable to restrain myself any longer. Peyton wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me firmly to him. I writhed in his grasp, but he merely circled his fingertip around my clit. How long would he tease me like this? I wondered.

Without warning, he abandoned all self-control. His mouth grew fierce at my neck; I felt the hint of teeth, followed by the caress of his tongue. His fingers, slick with my juices, moved easily against my clit. He stimulated me so gently at first, but the increasing pressure and varied rhythm of his touch soon had me shaking.

"Oh, my God!" I shrieked, lifting my arms so I could grab onto him. My knees felt weak, but I trusted him to hold me upright. When my hips started moving with their own obscene rhythm so that I was grinding my ass against Peyton, he groaned with pleasure. All the while, his fingers were relentless against my clit, and I whined and begged as my muscles tightened. Despite the cooler night air, I'd started sweating.

"I won't stop till you come," he murmured.

If someone had stumbled upon us then, they might have thought we were struggling, with me helplessly locked in Peyton's embrace. But in that moment, I belonged to him. His touch had grown exquisite, summoning forth a delicious tension within me. I imagined a galaxy deep in my core, extending its arms like tendrils of bliss.

And then I came beneath Peyton's fingers and mouth. He buried his face in my neck while I shuddered and moaned, the spasms seizing my entire body. Guys had made me come with their fingers before, and I'd brought myself to orgasm countless times. But not like this. Never like this.

Peyton was gentle withdrawing his hand from my panties. I shivered like I was freezing cold while he tucked my breasts back into my bra and then straightened my tank top. As soon as he was finished, I turned in his arms, seeking out his mouth.

He cupped my face in his hands, but the kiss he planted on my lips was almost chaste. He withdrew before it had a chance to deepen. Again, I felt that needy ache inside my chest, as if my pulse demanded more, more, more...

I placed my hand between his thighs and was thrilled to find him so hard for me. Yet he circled his fingers around my wrist, thwarting my attempt to stroke him. "Not yet," he whispered.

Most other guys would have been all over me, but Peyton seemed determined to hold me at a distance. I felt like that companion galaxy I'd observed earlier, linked to a vastly stronger force I had no hope of swaying.

Yet that smaller galaxy had its own power and managed to influence the much larger one, I reminded myself. The two shaped each other, Peyton had said.

And I was determined to take the shape of all that he desired.