Chapter 1

My name is Morgan. I’m a woman in her late 40’s, madly in love with a man who’s pushing 80. All my life I’ve been attracted to much older men. I haven’t been with anyone who wasn’t more than 20 years older than I. People will ask me what I see in them, or just assume I’m after their money. Money is the furthest thing from my mind when I’m getting busy with a sexy older man. I am an investment banker and have plenty of money of my own. If anything I’ve been the one helping my boyfriends out financially, especially with the one I have now. My attraction toward him started out purely sexual but has deepened into true love.

My boyfriend Ray, or “Daddy” to me, is retired and on a fixed income. When he did work as a custodian he made less than half of what I make even with indexing for inflation. He had a little bit of a problem with that at first but has got over it. It never made one whit of difference to me.

I can’t really explain the attraction in a way other people will understand. There is just something about thinning gray hair and a face with age lines on it that makes me want to make out with him. Add to that an aging “dad bod” that has a lot of miles on it. I want to explore every last centimeter with my hands, lips, and tongue. I love the way an older man’s balls sag much lower than a younger one’s. I like to lick and gently flick them with my tongue and then suck on them for a while before taking that engorged penis into my mouth.

I love the feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out of my mouth. I look up at his rocking dad bod and handsome lined face. His pleasurable moans, his beautiful brown eyes lovingly looking back at me. I could get lost in his eyes all day.

Older men last longer, too. Once Daddy gets hard he stays hard. He pulls my hair and fucks my mouth for well over half an hour before shooting a load. I love every second of it! He’s still hard even though he has shot a load. Then he fucks my sopping wet pussy, lasting even longer this time. I love every instant of it! By the time he cums again I’m screaming “DADDY! DADDY!” in orgasm.

And yes, I usually call him “Daddy,” rather than use his actual name. I like it, he likes it. His kids don’t. He has 3 of them, the youngest being about a year and a half older than I am. I have to admit knowing that hearing me call him “Daddy” bothers them, not just a little bit, is a turn-on for me. I don’t know why, but it is part of the attraction. I also enjoyed telling his oldest, Janet, about our sex life.

It started out with her being genuinely concerned when she found out he was sleeping with someone so much younger than he. She asked if it was safe with his heart condition. I would have thought his daughter would know he doesn’t actually have a heart condition, he just has pulmonary hypertension. Or in layman’s terms, a bad case of high blood-pressure. It’s bad enough that his doctor has said he needs to avoid any situation where his head would be lower than his heart. But as for sex itself, it’s no more strenuous than climbing a couple flights of stairs. It’s a perfectly safe cardiovascular workout and he is encouraged to do it often. That’s just what I told her. When I started to tell her about some of the things we do and how much I enjoy it she just left the room without saying anything. She never brought it up again.

I want to talk at some length about my sexual adventures with Daddy, but I’ll save that for future chapters. Think of this first part as an introduction leading into a chronological telling of some of my more memorable sexual exploits. I was just 14 when I gave my virginity to a man in his late 50’s.

Of course, it’s not exactly rare for high-school girls to have crushes on older men. We talked rather freely among ourselves about the men in town or in the media we’d like to get with. Sometimes a girl would mention another girl’s father in that context. I for one was also looking at grandfathers and just much older men in general. More than one of my friends caught me undressing her grandfather with my eyes. I couldn’t help it. I wanted some of that dad bod. That was one of the reasons I volunteered to help with the shut-ins.

It was the summer before my sophomore year, and all of us high-schoolers were encouraged to get involved in some sort of community service. A few hours was a requirement before graduation. And it was suggested that we should start early and do much more than the minimum.

One option was to help with the shut-ins. People who for whatever reason didn’t leave their houses. They needed people to bring them food and maybe help around the house and/or just sit and visit with them. Also for whatever reason their families weren’t doing it, so they had to rely on student volunteers. Virtually no student wanted to work with the shut-ins. I signed up quickly and requested men. I hoped to get assigned to some old guys. I figured I’d probably see them in various states of undress, maybe even help them bathe and dress. I was assigned some lady and two good-looking old guys.

One was a sixty-year-old man who was suffering the effects of some old injuries. I don’t remember his name or much about him. I mostly remember bathing him. That and how uncomfortable telling me he needed help bathing made him. Mrs Beck, the teacher who had assigned him to me, said she was very sorry but the sheer lack of students willing to work with the shut-ins had created this situation. She said it was OK to refuse to do it, she wouldn’t blame me. I just said it was fine, I didn’t mind at all. Many times I washed his entire hot body. I spent extra time on his dick and balls, enjoying it thoroughly. His dick grew when I washed it but it didn’t get all the way hard. He either wouldn’t allow himself to become fully aroused by my touch or just wasn’t able to get all the way hard.

I was so aroused my underwear got soaked every time. I would lie awake at night touching myself to the thought of his sexy body and tempting dick. He wouldn’t have been able to climb on top of me and fuck me like I’d seen in the movies. My fantasies came to reflect that. I would climb on top of him, slide his dick into my pussy, and ride him.

The other one was Mr Dobbs, a physically healthy man in his late 50’s who had crippling social anxiety. It was sort of a chicken-and-the egg thing. Either his sheer lack of social skills resulted in his anxiety or the other way around. Probably a little bit of both, each one fueling the other. I loosened him up with some board games and did my best to draw him out while we played. After a few weeks he was talking freely with me. We became friends. I came to see him at the same time on the same days each week. He got comfortable enough with me that he said I could just let myself in, I didn’t need to knock.

It was hot that summer and he didn’t have air conditioning. I would just wear a tank-top, shorts and sandals. I guess these things qualified as shorts, they came down to my knees and were very loose-fitting. Not exactly sexy, but they were the closest thing to shorts my parents would let me wear. One time I went into his house and he was sitting there in nothing but his briefs, trying to keep from being too hot.

This was both arousing and shocking. It was like pulling teeth just to get this guy to talk to me but he didn’t seem to have any problem with my seeing him in his all together. I’ve come to realize that people with no social skills are sometimes like that. Ordinary social situations terrify them but things that make average people very uncomfortable don’t affect them at all. That sure did describe Mr Dobbs.

I sat next to him on the couch and did my best not to let the lust show in my eyes as I took in his sexy dad bod. His tighty-whities showed the outline of his cock and I found myself staring at it. I was so busy drooling over that dick that I barely heard anything he was saying. I did pick up on his saying he had a thing for girls’ feet. That seemed pretty weird. But who am I to judge? I was lusting after old man penis. What shocked me back into the conversation was when he confided in me that he was still a virgin.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing! I said, “What? No, you can’t be. How could that possibly be?”

“I’ve just never had sex. The opportunity never presented itself.”

“A sex- I mean an attractive man like you? I would think a lot of women would want to be with you!”

“If there have been any, I missed the signals. I don’t really even have the confidence to talk to girls.”

I slid a little closer to him. “I’m a girl. You’re talking to me.”

“One girl in however many years. And not exactly age-appropriate.” He moved his hands in front of himself, like to point out his body. “I mean, does any of this look good to you at all?”

I put my hand on his knee and leaned toward him. “Yes.” I started to inch my hand up his thigh a little bit. “You are a very attractive man.”

He put his hand on mine and held it in place. “What? Are you saying you would...” He just trailed off and didn’t finish his question.