This story was written for the
750 Word Project 2024
, below this line are exactly 750 words:
*
I remember when I was young and sleeping with an older woman. A financial arrangement, as most of my sexual activities have been; only this time, I was the one being paid. I hadn't yet started my business and was working as a wage slave. It was obvious that I'd never break out of that role unless I could accrue enough money to strike out on my own.
I'm J.P. Penelton; yep, the owner of Eastern National Industrial Services, one of the largest manufacturing conglomerates in all of Canada. But back then, I had one marketable property that could bring in the money I needed, and she was stroking it at that moment. "Why on earth would any women be happy with an old penis that never truly gets hard, when they can have a rock hard one that fills them up?" She queried.
I was young, smug and, as she said, rock hard and her words made me laugh. Now, I'm old and semi-hard (or for you pessimists, semi-soft), and her words are bitter in my memory. And if money is exchanged, I'm on the other end.
But I no longer hire women to satisfy my urges. I have Matilda; my wife, a 19-year-old hardbody, a former Dallas cheerleader. She had been about to start her second career, when I swept her off her feet. My gain was the loss of gentlemen's clubs everywhere. Now, she only performs privately, exclusively for me. Her talent keeps me erect, well, as erect as a man in his late seventies can hope to get.