Boy Toy

A few weeks back, I had a client lunch with a few people I work with. One of them was a woman who runs her own company and who, before that, had only conversed with me via phone and email. Olivia is forty-nine, but a very attractive blonde with a tight, in-shape body. We flirted throughout lunch, and she mentioned she was looking for a condo in the area. I gave her some tips about the area I live in, and I thought that was that. A few days later, however, she emailed me asking if I wanted to get together for a drink and to talk about condos. I had an idea where it might be going and accepted the invitation. We met at a lounge the next evening, and she looked incredibly hot. She had clearly put some effort into looking good for me. As we talked, she mentioned she had recently separated from her husband and was moving back into the city, and all she cared about for the time being was "having fun." Then she touched my leg and looked at me with a sly, sexy look and said, "Maybe I should get a boy toy." That was it. I knew I was getting between her legs. Within two hours, we were back at my place and peeling each other's clothes off. She then told me she hadn't had good sex in seven years. I told her that streak of bad luck ended now, and we went at it. Olivia was wild, ten times more passionate than the women my age and younger that I usually sleep with. It was one of the loudest encounters I've ever had, and it was intense. We had sex again, again and again, in my bed, on my sofa, on the kitchen counter, and on the bathroom floor the next morning. Before she left, she said something that was music to my ears, "Don't worry, I'm not looking for another husband, just good sex." We've hooked up nine times since, and she's getting kinkier by the week. I won't get into some of the raunchier details, but some of our sessions have included handcuffs and hair-pulling. She says she's making up for lost time, and I love it.

— Matthew, 31

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