Maybelle stood before me naked. Those lusciously sagging breasts and wrinkled belly, grey pubes framing pouting plum lips; her general frailness was intoxicating. I got hard instantly.
"It's been twenty years since I've had a lover, you do realize that?" said Maybelle as she lay on the bed and beckoned to me.
I just smiled as I took her in my twenty seven year old arms. "That's alright, I've never had one."
I was twenty five when I found out that the technical term for it, Gerontophilia. The first time I realized it was the day my mother died. I was crying and the school nurse, who must have been approaching seventy, hugged me and I got a boner. After that I didn't like girls my own age, not even middle aged women. No, give me wrinkles, grey hair and if I'm lucky, a stoop and I am good to go. Now I'm not unattractive; I look a bit like Ben Affleck I've been told. It's not that I can't get young women. My dick just doesn't like them. I once went out with our local homecoming queen. The sight of her perky breasts made me go limp. I told her I was secretly gay. I wonder what she would have said if she really knew what was going on.
We kissed gently at first but Maybelle's need got the better of her and she kissed me harder. God, she smelled so good, like lavender talcum powder. I stroked her side, fondled the folds of loose skin and slowly worked my way south, kissing her neck and tonguing her nipples. She gasped and pulled me to her. My free hand sought her out her pussy, teasing the lips with my fingers, seeking her clit, stroking to the tune of her moaning. She reached down and grabbed my hard on. I was so excited I came, trembling, all over her legs.