I'll discount my experience with an 18-year old when I was 16. My first sexual relationships with older women came two years later. The partners for my teenage intimacy were 57 and 63. The following year I embarked on a fruitful meeting of bodies with a 71-year-old widow.
Elizabeth was tall, slim and intelligent. She had been widowed for over three years when I met her. The first time she and I had sex came a year after the last time she had enjoyed any sort of physical release with a partner.
A mutual friend of Ann and Mary, the 57 and 63-year-olds with whom I had been intimate, Elizabeth invited me round to her flat. The invitation, unusually, came via a hand-written letter. Other than mentioning the likelihood of a meal, the missive gave no direct hint of what might follow though the paper on which it had been written bore a hint of expensive perfume.
Running the scented letter under my nose led to my having a hard-on.
I knew that if Elizabeth was willing, she and I were going to fuck.
Ann had handed me Elizabeth's letter after ringing me and asking me to call. She told me very little other than to say her friend could do with some company and needed someone to do a spot of heavy lifting.
A proposed date for me to call was a Friday, five days after receiving the invitation. Provisionally it was for six in the evening. Elizabeth included her telephone number as well as the address of her flat She would assume that, unless I contacted her, the meeting would go ahead.
I decided to drop Elizabeth a short note straight away. I wrote that I was very much looking forward to calling to see her, adding that I especially enjoyed the company of older women.
Her flat was on the third and uppermost floor of small block of one bedroom apartments. Each occupant had their own mailbox on the ground floor, situated just inside the main entrance. I dropped a hand-written note in Elizabeth's mailbox late on Thursday evening. I confirmed I would would be accepting her invitation and was looking forward to spending time with her.
When I arrived outside the block of flats at quarter to six on the following day, I was semi erect in anticipation of what I hoped might materialise. When I knocked on the door, my erection grew stronger.
Elizabeth, barefoot, was wearing a dark blue blouse and a dark green ankle-length skirt. I could smell the same perfume she had had used on her letter. She flashed a warm smile. I chose to give her a quick peck on the cheek and, in doing so, became intoxicated by the expensive aroma. My cock was harder than it it ever been.
"Do come in." she said.
"I'm pleased you came."
She ushered me inside, through a small hallway into a living room and pointed to a three-seater leather settee.
"Would you like to sit down?"
I sat in the centre of the settee.
Elizabeth joined me, to my right and very close.
"Thank you for your note. There was no need."
"You're welcome." I replied.
Elizabeth lowered her voice and spoke close to my ear.
"Would you care to tell me why you enjoy the company of older women?"
Before I had the chance to think of a reply, Elizabeth whispered in my ear.
"I think I can guess."
As she spoke she ran the tips of her fingers slowly and gently up and down the length of my cock. Her movements were deft and tender and I shut my eyes momentarily, almost overwhelmed in sexual bliss. When I reopened them, Elizabeth was staring into them.
"Shall we go into the bedroom?" asked Elizabeth.