Running Mate

By Lana Ocean

Love is blind, but sometimes age makes a difference. And not in a good way.

This is a tale about a middle-aged widower who attracts a much younger neighbour. Their age difference is too vast for the older man, and despite the efforts of the neighbour, he finds his own emotions and feelings are not enough to bridge the gap.

This novella explores the question of what age gap is too much. Love finds a way, but sometimes reality is far too real and painful.

This novella is intended for adult audiences aged 18 and over.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lana Ocean
• Release date: Mar 25, 2024
• ISBN: 9781998445004

Lana Ocean

LANA OCEAN is an award-winning author of fiction in another genre. Erotic fiction started as a lark, and then suddenly she had written thousands and thousands of words.She has compiled many erotic stories over the years and published them using Literotica.com under the name Estcher. She is using a pseudonym because she wants to protect her true identity. Erotic fiction is not something you can brag about at cocktail parties.Lana proudly lives in Canada.Connect with Lana Ocean:EMAIL: [e-mail]

Book preview

Running Mate

an

Erotic Novella

by

Lana Ocean

Titles by Lana Ocean

Spell Casters Series

The Coming of the Spell Caster

The Schooling of the Spell Caster

The Rise of the Spell Caster

Novellas and Other

Becoming Hannah

Chastity Chronicles

Corporate Executive

Escort Neighbour

Finding Love

Late Night Coffee

Night Train

Philanthropy (5 Part Series)

Philanthropy

Running Mate

The Swinging Professor

The Swinging Professor 2

Tomboy Sue

Virginia Beach Romance

Running Mate by Lana Ocean

Copyright © 2019

First Edition 2024 (Smashwords)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. All fictional characters engaged in sexual acts are eighteen or over.

All rights reserved worldwide. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means—by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise—without prior written permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorised editions.

All inquiries should be addressed to:

E-Mail: [e-mail]

National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

ISBN-13: 978-1-998445-00-4

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Running Mate

by

Lana Ocean

Content Warning

This novel contains vivid descriptions of heterosexual acts, including oral sex and anal sex. This novel is intended for adults aged eighteen and over.

Part 1

AMANDA Ryerson LIVED three doors down from me in a rural area of the city. She was attending university in town and still lived with her parents. She was a beautiful, cheerful, twenty-three-year-old woman. She ran every morning; dressed in her running gear and a sports bra, earbuds in, and moving at a pace I could no longer maintain at my age of forty-two. She had lovely brown hair cut short the way I admired, and a perfect complexion.

I had been imagining having sex with her for a couple of years. She looked energetic and exciting. She filled my fantasies from time to time.

My wife passed from cancer two years ago. It was horrible and excruciating and I still woke in a sweat remembering the worst of her days. Cancer is horrible. It robs you of all your dignity. Now, when I try to remember how my wife looked, I can only see her in the hospital bed, gaunt, ravished, and a sliver of who she had been in life. I can no longer see her as the vibrant woman she was and so full of life.

She died on a Monday at three-thirty-three in the afternoon. She had been unconscious and heavily sedated for the week leading up to her death and never woke. I never said goodbye. Later, the neighbours said it was fortunate we didn’t have kids. It was a horrible thing to say; it was something people said when you are divorced and not burying your life mate.

We had wanted kids so badly, but I couldn’t make it happen. I was sterile with no swimmers. I think my wife hated that about me. I couldn’t give her what she had most wanted in life. And then she died. Childless.

The following week, the neighbourhood held a celebration of life for her. It was fine, except I didn’t know the neighbours. I didn’t even know their names. My wife did, and she had socialised with them on the street, talking about this and that. She would tell me later, but the words would flow through me. Instead, I worked, watched baseball or hockey, and did little else. The neighbours were strangers to me. It was at the celebration of life that I met Amanda in person for the first time. Everything had been a blur that day, but she had swum into view, said some kind words, and left me standing there with a glass of warm red wine. When I think about that day, I can only remember Amanda talking to me for that brief second.

I started running the next day. I suddenly wanted to live a better life. I could lie to you and tell you my wife had made me promise to have a better life after she was gone, but that’s Hollywood crap. She got cancer of the bone. It spread to her organs, and she was dead five weeks after her diagnosis. We never talked about me having a life after. That was too hard to bring up, and it would have been selfish. Also, that conversation would have confirmed she was dying and right until the end we were in denial about her imminent death. That’s reality, and that’s life.

So I started running. And I quit smoking. And drinking coffee. In my inconsolable grief, I never noticed how hard it was on me to do all that at once. My misery outweighed the muscle pain, the need for nicotine, and the horrible mood swings that came with having no caffeine in my system. I ran through it all. When I ran, my mind would go blank. I craved that solitude and serenity. It was an escape.

I ran for fifteen minutes the first morning