It takes me a moment to process everything. I’m still unsure of the implications of my situation. I want him, inside me, again and again.
There’s something about him, oh the sexual tension. He’s not my partner, he’s not my friend. He’s my sexdaddy.
I like clutching his salt and pepper hair as he buries his face between my legs. Oh, that tongue. The nasty, wonderful things it does it me. I shake and quiver, I beg him to stop. “You know my body’s not going to be this way forever, so tight, so firm” I joke, “what then, would you still find me attractive?” “I’ll be too old to even have an erection by that time” he retorts snarkily. “You’re not that old” “Oh yea? And how old is too old, you youngling?” I mumble his age as I burst out laughing and kiss him.
I like his smell on me after we’ve finished, even though I’ve showered. He asks me to stay the night, he always does. “I can’t” “Why,is it past your bedtime?” “No, I’ll fall in love” “oh you really are a piece of work, aren’t you!”
He kisses me as my cab arrives. “Text me once you get back?” “Geez, grandpa, I’ll be fine” he laughs and I recieve a firm smack on the bottom.
He’s a good man, great lover. Maybe if he were a little bit younger I’d consider letting him in a little bit more. I’m fascinated, more than anything.
But if I did have to choose, it’d be the light eyed boy.