My Forbidden First Time: Kneeling for a Young Stud at 57
The kitchen. His truck pulls up again. Heart pounding. Forgot his tool belt. February chill bites, but heat builds inside me. I offer tea. We sit close. Eyes lock. His bulge strains jeans. ‘Beautiful woman like you, alone?’ Voice low. Shiver runs spine. He heads to bathroom. Comes back behind me at sink. Hands on…
