True Sex Stories: May-December

After five decades, he thought his best days were behind him, but at half his age she was determined to prove him wrong.

That morning at the drug store, I wandered the isles looking for candles. I already had the Valentines card, lime, ice and alcohol in the trunk of my car. Suspecting the motel would reek of stale, cheap sex, I wanted candles to to set a mood and make the place smell nice.

My heart was pounding. I waffled between feeling like a fool and anticipating what was suppose to take place that evening. Foolish because what was I doing, a fifty year old man, making plans to have sex with a twenty-three year old woman?

At our first time together during a night of heavy drinking, I hadn't even mustered a hint of an erection, and it was the hottest foreplay I had ever experienced! What if this evening I couldn't even get it up? What if my own mind was my biggest cock-block? The butterflies in my stomach and the stirring in my pants told me not to worry about that particular problem, but there were plenty of other concerns.

Leaving work early, I rushed to the motel, unable to look the two women behind the counter in the eyes. Surely they knew, as did every car driving past on the street, that I was there that night only to have sex with a younger woman.

Fortunately, the room wasn't as bad as I had feared. I opened the windows and started blowing up balloons to spread around the room. It was the day after Valentine's and I wanted this woman to know that she was special. By the time I inflated two dozen red balloons and laid out the card and candles, it was 4 pm. In half an hour I would pick her up and we would return to this room. Suddenly I was nervous beyond belief. I was sweating and shaking. I stripped off my clothes and jumping in the shower, letting the cool water surround me. Ten minutes later, now relaxed, I dressed and left to pick her up.

I wish you could have seen her face when we entered the room. She probably had the same concerns about the seediness of the place, but with the balloons and candles, it looked like a goddamn prom night.

Still nervous, I stalled by offering to make her a drink. She seemed nervous too, but the moment we started kissing it all seemed to melt away. I slowly removed her clothing, piece by piece. She seemed a little taken aback that I wasn't in a hurry. We fell back on the bed, her on top, so I could remove her bra, the final piece of clothing.

We were both breathing heavy. My heart was beating so hard it interrupted each breath. Each long drawn inhale was reduced to a series of gasps as my heart pounded. There was a moment of hesitation as she was above me, her hair pouring down on my face, and then she reached down, grabbed my dick, and guided it to her entrance. I was expecting some momentary resistance as my cock found it's way inside her, but she was equally excited and I slid smoothly in, deeper and deeper.

Now fully inside her, we froze; my ears were pounding from rushing blood. She couldn't breath and neither of us could move. Every beat of her heart grabbed me, massaged me. Slowly she rose up and we shuddered in unison. I reached up with both hands and grabbed her head just above the neck. Slowly, she rose and fell. Each thrust was its own individual universe. Time slowed and I remember dimly having the thought that this would be the best few minutes of my life. Amazingly, it wasn't over in a minutes. Slowly we moved together on the bed - rolling, twisting, sliding. It was one long dance that rose and ebbed, drenching us in sweet sweat. At times we couldn't breath, at others we gasped like runners. Hours later when it was over. We knew that we had experienced something quite rare. There was really nothing more to say.

Republished with permission. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. Photo by John B. Root.