I have kept this a secret for twenty-some years. I met my future wife Paula in college and over Thanksgiving, she invited me to her Grandma Ellie's house. Paula and I were both freshmen and Ellie lived in a small town about an hour from our school. Ellie was divorced, lived alone, and was grateful for the company over the holiday. Ellie cooked a great dinner on Thanksgiving and Paula ended up going to bed early. I helped Ellie with the dishes, and then she invited me to watch TV with her. I agreed and sat on the couch while Ellie said she would be right back. When she returned, she was wearing a very revealing black nightie (she had amazing cleavage for an older woman) and she was carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. I didn't know what to make of the situation, but I remember just staring at her and thinking for a fifty-eight year old lady, she looked pretty good; after a little wine, she looked even better. We watched TV, talked, drank wine, and at some point I felt Ellie's hand on my leg. When her fingers touched me, I just about lost control and she let out a little whimper. With her hand massaging me, she leaned in and began kissing me. Inexperienced as I was, I wasn't sure what to do, but I kissed her back while reaching out to touch her chest. Ellie was so passionate and excited that she just took control and had her way with me. I had no idea what hit me. We had no time alone for the rest of the weekend until Paula was getting ready for us to leave. Ellie took me outside, gave me a deep passionate kiss, and told me to take care of Paula and remember she was only an hour away. I drove down to visit Grandma Ellie a couple of times that year. The following Thanksgiving, I told Paula I was going to my parent's home, but I spent the entire Thanksgiving with Ellie. It was about ten years later I ended up having a long term affair with Paula's mom. Of the three, Ellie was by far the best.
— Mike, 42
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