Have you ever fallen for someone because of how they perform in the bedroom? I’ve certainly grown obsessed with people or grew to tolerate them more because of the deliciously tantalizing things they did to my body.

One experience in particular comes to mind. I had a friend/mentor who was several decades older. I really admired his mind and his work, but I had zero sexual desire for him initially and it was a tad unsettling when he looked at me with want. Regardless of this, we had enough in common to develop a strong bond. He was very charming, charismatic, and accomplished in the scientific community. As a researcher myself, it was fascinating to bounce ideas off him, hear his perspectives, and share parts of myself that I was too afraid to share with guys my age.

I was working on a sci-fi erotic novel about artificial intelligence, quantum computing, psychology, and human dynamics. He was a great resource as he helped me hone in on specific scientific concepts to make the story more realistic. In my opinion the best stories are rooted in reason with a touch of madness sprinkled in.

We started off by brainstorming over coffee at Panera several times a week. I would bring my laptop to share what I’d developed so far and edit in real time with his input. His mind was wild and he looked at things from so many different perspectives which was fantastic for ideas and world-building. He had this infectious, gleeful, almost child like energy about him. I certainly grew to appreciate him more and more.

One night I was working on the story and he texted to invite me over to his home. I declined. I knew he wanted more from me and I knew I was unwilling to give it. He ended up calling me and we stayed on the phone for about 90 minutes. He was such a captivating conversationalist – we talked about time, consciousness, how quantum particles of the mind might be able to affect actual physical matter. At the end of the call he said, “so if you’re not doing anything you should come over so we can talk more in person.”

At that point I felt like I couldn’t argue – I really wasn’t doing anything but writing a story that he’d been so helpful in shaping, so I agreed. I went over and we had some wine and continued the conversation. I really enjoyed talking with him, dreaming up different realities, and questioning societal norms. I felt more intelligent around him. Like I said, he was very charming and sometimes hearing the right words from someone goes a longer way than seeing the “right physical traits” on someone. The more we talked the more I grew to relax around him and crave his company more. He was a silver tongued devil and I was falling more and more under his spell.

Before leaving that night I gave him a hug and he commented on the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra. “Well, that’s nothing out of the ordinary for me. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Oh I definitely notice and I appreciate it,” he said pulling me in for another hug. Here’s the thing – his older body did feel good against mine. He was warm and inviting and he’d captivated me all evening with his words. There was that look again – that look of desire in his eyes, and this time I didn’t discourage it. So I let him hug me and give me a kiss on the cheek. Then he grabbed my face and kissed me. I just let it happen because part of me was curious to see what it’s like to kiss an older man.

It was a rather passionate kiss, but most of the passion was from him. Anyway, it felt good so I just let it happen. I was thinking to myself – I will never see him again after this because I don’t want to give him the wrong idea. Well he said he wanted to “show me something” in the other room and I chucked to myself thinking “he can’t really think this line will work.”

“Actually, I need to get going,” I said as I disengaged.

“Okay, but can you stay for just a few more minutes, please?”

At this point in my life I was heavy into people pleasing, I didn’t know how to say no to people who I knew well, and I didn’t want to disappoint or piss people off. Let’s just say I had not the best sense of boundaries nor how to enforce them, and his request for “just a few more minutes” seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. So I stayed.

We went to his bedroom and he asked if I liked massages. I fucking love massages, so I was intrigued. He was quick to say, “you keep everything on and I’ll just massage you over your dress. Lay on your stomach.”

Again, it felt like there was nothing to worry about because he was addressing all the possible objections I could have before I even had the chance to voice them. This made me relax and soften more to his touch.

I must admit – he was a very sensual man and he was amazing with his hands. I don’t know how long he massaged me for – it was definitely more than “a few minutes.” But I was blissed out. I remember him asking if he could lift up my dress a little to massage my lower back. I obliged and raised my ass so he could move the fabric.

Again I was lost in his touch. One of the best things about older men is their willingness to take their time and be laser focused on your pleasure. He certainly did that and I remember thinking to myself “which toy am I gonna use to finish myself off when I get home?” I was that wet from his touch.

Somehow he sensed my excitement. I’m not quite sure if he took my panties off or if I did, but I do remember being delighted when his tongue – which I was expecting to land on my clit, landed instead on my ass. He kissed and traced his warmth all the way to my little asshole and I was… I don’t even know how to describe this. I was delighted. He sensed that I liked it and he kept on eating my ass. I don’t think he touched my pussy at all – such a fucking gentleman! He just had one hand on each check to spread me open so his tongue could dive deeper. My fingers found their way to my clit. I was soaking wet. I didn’t even have to reach to my vaginal opening to get some of that slick juice – it was freely flowing everywhere. My clit was already covered in it. I started to rub it as his tongue expertly worked my ass.

“You have the perfect little ass. I can’t get enough—” he didn’t even finish his sentence before his face was buried in me again. At this point I was fresh out of a relationship with someone who didn’t share my kink for ass worship. Not only was my mentor an avid worshiper, his execution was masterful! Never in a million years did I imagine being intimate with him, let alone that he knew what eating ass was. The more his tongue teased me the more my image of him began to expand.

Numerous times I was threatened by a powerful orgasm, but I moved my fingers from my clit and edged myself instead. I simply did not want the sensations to end. By the fourth close call he encouraged me to let go. “Cum for me; make a mess.”

“Fuck,” was all I could muster. I started rubbing my clit again with intention. I could feel this was gonna be an explosive one.

“Finger fuck my pussy while you eat my ass.” He obeyed, sinking a finger inside me and pushed all the way in until his knuckles were touching my outer lips.

“You’re dripping over my hand!” He said in astonishment. “Can you take another finger?”

“Yes please”

He worked his index and middle finger inside me and brought his tongue back to my ass. I was so turned on. The pleasure was immense and mind altering. I had no sense of time, no worries, only the sensations. The sound of my wet pussy as his fingers went in and out, the sound of his voice as he moaned into my ass, the sound and rapidly increasing pace of my breathing. The softness and slickness of my clit as my fingers rubbed on it, his warm tongue on the filthiest part of my body. I was consumed by pleasure and I came hard on his fingers, leaving a puddle on his sheets. After I stopped shaking I got up to look for my panties.

His eyes followed me. “Please, can I keep them?” He asked.

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