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A Girl In Her 20s: Having ** With An Older Man
You may already know I confessed my obsession with older men in another post. Yeah... That post about craving men over 40? As the girl in her 20s who recently confessed about my obsession with men over 40, I wanted to share my experience that brought my fantasies to life. Well, this one older man turned my daydreams into reality.
We first started chatting about music, movies, and all that casual **. One day, he ** drove through multiple countries just to see me. Like, I opened my door, and there he was—tired as **, but with that cocky-** smirk. I was shook! I mean, what the **?
I’d never been treated like that before. And a real date? Like, what even was that? He made me feel like the only girl in the world—he listened to me and bought everything, even though I insisted on paying for it. He actually made me feel seen for the first time ever. But I’m also a brat, through and through, and I teased him every chance I got, just to see how far I could go.
But he didn’t play. Oh no. One night, I pushed too far. He chased me down like an animal, grabbed me, and gave me exactly what I’d been teasing him for. He didn’t ask. He didn’t need to. It was raw, rough, and primal—just pure, no-lube, no-warning ** **. The way he spanked me and left marks all over me, his hand gripping my throat, choking me lightly, was heaven. That dominance? **, I lived for it.
And when he pulled out, he didn’t give me time to catch my breath. He shoved his ** deep into my mouth, forcing me to gag and swallow as he shot his load down my throat. I looked into his eyes the whole time, and I ** loved every second of swallowing his **.
That night wasn’t a one-time thing either. He had this way of making me beg for it, teasing me till I was ** crying for it, even laughing, and both of us having fun when I was the one teasing him. He’d grip my hair, pull me close, and ask, "Do you need it harder?" And **, yes, I did. Every ** time. He’d take me so deep into my fantasies, consuming me whole, and when it was over, the aftercare made me feel like I was dreaming. He didn’t just toss me aside; no, he’d hold me, running his hands through my hair, making sure I was okay and feeling fine. No judgment, no need for perfection—just him and me.
I also remember our post-** conversations, where he made sure I understood everything we’d just done and asked about my feelings.
Sure, we didn’t use a condom, but only the first time, since he insisted on using condoms all the other times. But here’s the thing: He also asked me about my past, shared his own sexual experiences, and gave me a full-on lesson about the risks, and how to stay safe. It was oddly comforting. He made sure I was aware of the dangers, and he made sure I was informed and felt safe.
Yeah, I guess I'm forever completely ruined for younger men. I need that experience, that control, that knowledge an older man brings. It drives me absolutely ** insane. Older men know exactly how to make a girl feel completely owned, devoured, and worshipped in the best way.
So, again, for all those older men out there who feel like they’re past their prime, trust me: YOU'RE NOT! There are young women like me who crave you, who want to love every bit of your experience, your body, and your mind.
I take your suggestion at the end of your post. How do we make a network of willing persons? Please think about it.