Part of the Disgusted Series
I’m going to be honest with myself for a moment, or maybe even a little longer if I can summon the courage. Yes, I was anxious to go out with your friend even though he was almost 20 years older than me. Dating doesn’t come easy to me.
I’m a single mother with a daughter just entering college and hadn’t been out on a date, had not been alone with a man for god knows how long. So yes, I’ll admit it, I did jump at his invitation to dinner.
In hindsight he could probably sense that I was desperate for company, desperate for whatever scrap of affection I could get from any man whatsoever, and he decided to take advantage of me, knowing damn well that our relationship – if that’s ever what it really was – wasn’t going to go anywhere except for what he did to me that night.
Not that I mean to be unfair to your friend. I could tell that he liked me, liked my body at least. Older men like him prefer MILFs like me. (I’d never heard of the term ‘MILF’ before until just recently when my daughter explained to me that it meant ‘Mother I’d Like to Fuck’. I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess.)
Forty-something years old, natural red hair, and my daughter tells me I have a great figure despite having had two children. I figured out later that he wanted to find out if I was really a red head and that the color of the landing strip between my legs would answer his question.
I also found out, much later, that your friend prefers paying for no-strings-attached sex but had decided to make an exception for me, for one night only. Lucky me . . . .