For goodness sake, I'm a 75-year old woman and apparently still have my mojo. Yes, as with most women reaching my age, I carry a few battle scars of opposite sex relationships. More recently, I have emerged with an inner strength gathered from years of widowhood.
Now I certainly am my own person --with my own sense of style and flare.
Gussying up in wardrobe outfits like tight black leggings, high open-toed heels and a leopard print top always catches men's eyes. I love it! I've worked hard to assure that my body has the same curvaceous lines as when I was twenty or thirty something. And, I certainly dress for male attention. Why not!
Recollecting my earlier years, I feel as if my thick snatch of red pussy hair is still fully established between my legs, now, with fuzz -- like a ripe peach, guarding my labia. I remember the turned-on secretions coating my pubic bush --all in anticipation of a man's hand delicately stroking my sweet rose bud spot into ecstasy -- and my watching it happen with legs stretched out and emersed in deeply lascivious thoughts. Now, just for a moment, I close my eyes and, once again, remember rippling muscles with each big O. Toe curlers for sure!
I have been so fortunate. Aging has given me a rather wonderful patina, with deep feelings of sensuality still very much alive in my body. And, yes, I vibrate myself quite often to reach a lady's ultimate pleasure.
Indian summer has arrived in the desert and what a relief from the unrelenting summer heat. With autumn, the pace of life has also quickened. Folks are doing their outdoors thing, and wildlife is busy preparing for winter. That is when I heard "it." The audacity of some small creature scurrying in the attic space above my bed last night. How dare that happen! Really?
Of course, my morning -- even-before-coffee call was to the gal I have dealt with for years regarding my ongoing homeowner's contract for annual pest and termite inspections. "What do you mean that your company won't even evaluate what is going on in my attic?" was my incredulous response to her excuses about her company's liability and yada yada.
However, she did have a recommendation.
It seems her company had a partnership with a fully state licensed pest control freelancer that was willing to traverse home attics with extremely tight crawl spaces and obstacles of crisscrossing air duct systems. She called Alex.
An appointment was made for both of them to return to my home -- she to introduce Alex to me and Alex to complete his evaluation and recommend next steps to resolve my pest issues. That sounded like a pretty routine business deal, until I answered the door at the appointed time.
There, this late thirty-something and extremely good-looking Chicano man was poised with his outreached hand ready to shake mine. Mr. Personality should have been his trade name! No! In retrospect, Mr. On Fire Erection would have been the more appropriate label!
Gawd! Just sitting at my computer right now and pondering this whole past episode, my twat's secretions have presented me with a moist crotch; and, dear reader, stained panties that one might consider very sniffable when secreted away.
I digress. Anyway, back to my storytelling.
Alex and I negotiated work and pricing by texting back and forth, and then set a future Saturday date for his work. It was kind of a large job and the weather extremely hot, so Alex did have a helper when the appointed Saturday rolled around. Alex immediately sent his colleague to work the casita on my property that had to be treated, as well.
That left Alex and me at the main house.
I think we both felt the instantaneous heat of carnal chemistry and initially couldn't quite grasp a 30-something man attracted to a 70- something lady -- or vice versa. "And Here's To You, Mrs. Robinson..." I haven't lost my sense of adventure -- adventure of all kinds!
