This story is absolutely true. I know many post stories here reputed to be true, but they're usually so embellished it's hard to believe them. But they're fun to read nonetheless.
And this story, I swear, is absolutely true, completely unembellished, just the facts, pure, simple and sexy.
Truth is, I love older women, their look, their texture, their sexuality, their experience. Now at 57, I realize anyone in the "older woman" category will have to be seriously up there in age.
But every so often, I find one who is and also delightfully sexy and sexual. I've had lots of sex with women in my age range, 50s, late 40s, and a couple in their early 60s, all of whom are the most sexual creatures I've ever had the honor of sharing bed space with. Mercy, can they do things that younger woman cannot.
Fact is, if you put a hot 60-year-old next to a hot 20-year-old and gave me the choice, I'd go with granny every time...
Most recently, I was in Miami at a festival at a posh hotel when I spotted this gal, Ellie (not her real first name, the real one is most unique and though I doubt she reads this site, why take chances?), getting on an elevator with her equally hot daughter (and no, no daughter-mother sex ensued, let's nip that in the bud, though believe me, I thought about it). We chatted and instantly made the emotional, sexual connection that sometimes blissfully happens.
She was extraordinary, about 5-6, 130 pounds, incredibly fit, beautiful face, the most shimmering silver hair cut short. We were at a party, we drank, we chatted, flirted heavily, Ellie crossing her magnificent legs, the skirt riding high to expose supple, freckled thighs and down below, superbly muscled calves for someone her age.
Which was 71, she told me. I was stunned.
Honestly, she could've passed for 60 at best, she was that well preserved and lovely.
"Well, I work out about 12 hours a week," she said proudly, extending her legs to show me those meaty, firm calves. "I have great legs for someone my age, don't I?"
"Oh, God yes, do you ever," I gushed enthusiastically, looking at the firm flesh, the sexy freckles on them, her lovely feet in stylish pumps.
I could not stop staring at her amazing legs, nor that neck. I'm a guy who loves women's necks, older necks, wrinkled sure, but sexy, creased, fleshy folds of warm, suckable skin. And Ellie's neck was divine.
I have another fantasy, that of older women having their way with young men, and told her. Turns out the youngest she'd had was in his early 40s. Close enough for me. I asked if she liked dating and bedding men in her own age range.
"No," she sighed. "They can't keep up to me, frankly, they all have ED."
I had to laugh. I'm 57, I almost NEVER have a problem getting it up but just in case, always carry Viagra. With Ellie, it wouldn't be needed, she's visual Viagra.
It was not to be that night, but we parted knowing we'd see each other at another festival event at my hotel two nights later. She showed up and stole the show, I'm not kidding, this gorgeous older gal in a clinging red mini-dress (she purposely wore it to showcase those legs, she proudly told me), and a big, stylishly floppy red hat. She looked so alluring, I can't tell you how many men – of all ages – stopped to tell her how fantastic she looked, women, too. She was charming throughout, a quintessential, coquettish southern belle, working the room, collecting longing looks – mostly from me.
