[This is part one and I will get around to writing part two at some point. Writing this has sparked wonderful memories of Gloria. I would give anything to have an older lover like her once again. Hope you enjoy.]
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I've never shared this story with anyone, yet I have always wanted to do so. Writing this makes me think of all of the great memories that Gloria and I had together. We were sexual partners at first and later lovers for a total of three years.
What's different about this relationship? I was 51 at the time and Gloria was 78. I have been with many women and my relationship with Gloria was the hottest, sexiest and most fulfilling of any. Here's our story.
I have a popcorn kernel to thank for our love.
That popcorn kernel was hiding in a bowl of popcorn as I watched a rented movie one Saturday night. I bit down, broke a molar and was in agony that night and all-day Sunday. I showed up at my dentist's office first-thing Monday morning, hoping he'd be able to see me. He could, but I'd have to hang around the waiting room a bit to fit in between appointments. The aspirin had killed much of the pain, so I settled in with the months-old magazines that seem to populate every medical office.
After waiting about a half-hour, the outside door opened and a woman walked in. She looked about 65 -- my best guess -- and she carried herself with grace. She wore a white silk blouse (I could see her bra underneath) and a charcoal skirt with black stockings. Her hair was white and her skin, although heavily wrinkled, was healthy.
She sat directly across from me, smiled and grabbed a magazine. I began to look at her legs -- living through a fantasy I had nurtured for about 20 years. I never wanted to have sex with my mother. But I did wanted to with my mother-in-law and with any older woman. The fellow dental patient folded her legs and I could see far up her skirt. She didn't adjust it. I couldn't keep my eyes off the darkness between her legs.
After staring for what probably was too long a time I glanced up and she was looking directly at me. I must have turned the brightest red possible. She looked at me, smiled and said: "Young man, do not blush like that. You have paid me the highest compliment a woman can get. And a woman in her late 70s like me considers it an even greater compliment."
What shocked me the most? That she turned an embarrassing moment into something nice with her kindness? That she was about 10 years older than I had guessed. Or that I realized she had orchestrated the whole thing by giving me a look up her skirt.
We chatted a bit. I was divorced. Her husband had died five years before. We both didn't do much. "So much alike," she noted with a smile. A smile that I was beginning to like more and more.