The milf

I left it until the end to explain why I broke up with my previous new love, and how I got together with Miss Hysterica, who almost got me killed by the local mafia. I should add that Miss Hysterica was also a good woman, average-looking, but much better in bed than anyone before her. She also had some strange habits, such as taking selfies during sex and collecting lingerie. The one I ended up getting back together with at the ‘heroes’ party’ was much prettier; the two women were incomparable. She didn’t have a silly selfie habit, and she could be hysterical at times, but her body and face were exceptionally beautiful. Nothing about her was particularly large, but everything was beautiful and firm, and she didn’t even need to wear a bra for her nipples to stick out. Many people had sex with her when we got together with our friends, but she often had other boyfriends whom we didn’t know. Then it was my turn, and we stayed together for a while. I always wondered why men left such exceptionally beautiful women, but when we got together, I quickly realized why. She didn’t have sex very often, and even then, only reluctantly. Sometimes, she wouldn’t have sex for a whole week. For a woman like her, that’s a lot.

So, I decided to have an older lover. Older, because if she is married, we don’t have to go on dates, vacations, or concerts, because that would be obvious to her husband. I used to love older women, because the first person who took my virginity was 19 years older than me. Of course, she was still only 35. I fell in love with her, but she didn’t want to continue after a year because of the age difference. But after that, I could only get together with older women; I wasn’t interested in my own age group. This was broken by my old–new girlfriend, who is the same age as me. So, I decided to find an older married lover, and I registered on Tinder. It wasn’t very good at first, because fake women specialising in advertising paid services and paid prostitutes flooded the platform, and there were 100+ men for 1 woman who were real. But then, one woman matched me back, and we started chatting, and she was neither a paid service nor a marketer. She was a very short but well-built older woman, I don’t know exactly how old, but I think between 45 and 50. We chatted, and she told me honestly that her husband was going abroad for a few days, and since they had been married for more than 25 years, she wanted to try something different because she had never cheated on him before, but now she was longing for something new. Something younger. As it turned out, because she feels old, and something like this might restore her balance. I wrote to her that I was very addicted to MILFs, but I now have a girlfriend my age, but I can’t give up on having an older one, too. I didn’t go into detail about why, and she didn’t ask. The day her husband left came very quickly, and we dated. There was no build-up, no date in a café, no drinks in a bar, she came straight to my apartment. She had slightly short but tousled hair, with some grey in it, she wasn’t fat at all, but she was shorter than 150 cm, I think she was more than a head shorter than me. But she had a nice, proportionate body. She wasn’t dressed fashionably, but rather old-fashioned, and at first glance, there was nothing striking about her, no short skirt, no cleavage, nothing. It was interesting, because I was unsure why she was coming, and I thought maybe she was just looking around, talking, checking out who she could cheat on her husband with later. She didn’t look like someone who wanted to fuck at all.

Finally, she called me when she was close to my address, and I walked to the nearby bus stop to meet her because it was only a five-minute walk, and I thought we could talk while we waited. She saw me, we hugged, I kissed her, and she just held me for a long time. It was a little strange, so I asked her if she was coming to my place, and she said, yes, of course, and we started walking towards my house. On the way, she took my hand, and we arrived at my house as if we were mother and son. In terms of age, that might have been true. It was spring, she took off her spring coat, hung it up, took off her shoes, and I gave her some slippers. We sat down in the kitchen, of course I didn’t have anything to eat ready, I asked her if she was hungry, but she said no because she was nervous and we should just sit at the table for a while. To be honest, I don’t remember what we talked about. I didn’t ask about her husband, because what’s the point? The question of what she did for a living came up, but I don’t remember that, either. The whole thing was so bland. It was a date, but a bit bland, and that’s why it was tense. At the beginning, it was impossible to know how it would turn out, whether she would get up and leave, or come into my room to make love. Then, after a long time, she said something — I don’t remember what — I took one of her hands, pulled her towards me, and kissed her. She kissed me back, we hugged each other, and the next 15 minutes were spent sitting at the dining table, hugging and kissing. Then, I pulled away myself from her and asked her if she would come into my room. She came in. I took her by the hand and led her to the bed, and we continued kissing and hugging while sitting on the bed.