After my divorce, I moved into an apartment and lost my mind for a year. I hid it well. No one at work had any idea that all I did when not working was hole up in my apartment and troll the internet for anonymous sex. I made lots of mistakes—it took a lot of trial and error to make myself a viable candidate for lonely women looking for love. Or sex, really. After a few months, I started to hit around .300, which isn't bad considering. At least I could spell.
One night I was about to give up when a lady responded to my line of desperate recklessness. I drove to meet her (drunkenly but carefully) not caring if I were about to be murdered, or robbed, or just stood up. I didn't want to get arrested though, so I pulled carefully into the parking lot of the gas station she named. It was pouring harder than I'd ever seen. Her car—a big Buick—sat in the furthest corner, out of the reach of the lights from the station. I'd described my shitty little Mazda. She blinked her headlights twice. I climbed out into the rain, and opened the door without looking in.
She'd listed her age (62) and she looked every minute of it. Plump, dressed in soft old lady clothes. Even a brooch. Glasses, pale yellowed hair. She looked like your aunt, or mine. An aunt. She smelled of perfume and cigarettes. I remember Steve Miller on her radio. She told me I was cuter than she'd hoped and rested her hand on my thigh immediately. I stared out the windshield and listened to the rain. Then I let her kiss me—cigarettes, toothpaste, her soft cheeks. I made out with this old lady (I was 34) in the thrumming rain. When I cupped her heavy tit, her bra underneath was like armor. Fuck it, I thought—nothing matters. I decided to push things where I wanted them and see if she'd follow. She most definitely did.
I pushed her back into her seat and said I'd fuck her, but only if she did what I said. She tried to kiss me and I pressed her back to her velour seat. I won't hurt you, but if you want me to fuck you, you will do anything I say. Your choice—agree and we continue. Say no and I Ieave you alone. She looked startled, breathed heavy. I don't know what she expected—a simple, cuddly roll in the hay. I let the alcohol and my disappeared inhibitions stare her down. She said a tight little "okay" and I smiled.