A lot of fantasies on here but this is real and I worked hard to make it happen. I live (still) in the suburbs of a big city, an area that was once a village but got swallowed up by the emerging populations and is now a faint outline of the lovely village it once was.

In Junior High, all my friends and I were reacting to the new sensations of puberty and its hormone flow that can drive one nuts because it is so foreign to the body. Women become objectified. All we could talk about was fucking. One of my friends told us that a nationally known stripper and former model who appeared in Playboy and other men's magazines lived in town quietly retired. (I'll call her Pat but that is not her name). We all went, "Wow, really, man..." etc. and most forgot it. Maybe I had more imagination but I Googled her and up came dozens of amazing photos. Several were nudes. Not realizing it at the time, became obsessed with her.

By that time, I estimated that she must be in her 60's. I was, like, 14 or roughly 50 years younger than she. I was so besotted by hormones it made no difference. I had no idea what I had in mind but I wanted to meet her. It took me about a year to work up the courage to knock on her door. I had no phone number and was not about to write letters so I got on my bike and rode to her place, roughly two miles away.

She answered her door directly, where I fully expected to somehow be disappointed. She live alone with a tiny dog,
I told her that I was looking for chores to do to earn a few bucks. She stood back, looked at me and said, "You gotta be cheap. I live on a microscopic pension." I noticed her face carried her years but her figure was still amazing. She was not the only former beauty that still looked great in her 60's. I told her that I would work on probation and if she did not like my work she could just let me go. At that point, I just wanted to be near her. It was crazy because she had to be at least 20 years older than my mum. She had a gym and worked out, however, and mum did not.

She was happy with the stuff I did for her, everything from the grass to the back porch, etc. I found out that she had married six times. Her last husband, already quite an old guy who died in the second year of their marriage, had made sure of her survival with a fund. Looking back at how we finally became sexually involved, I have to think she planned it out. I was there late and she had started to cook dinner for us. She loved to sit back with a cup and chatter on about the old days. She took out some albums of photos and clips and showed them to me.

I started shifting and wiggling in my chair, trying to hide my cranked up erection. Noticing it, she said, "Hell, I'm not much different today, and simply disrobed in my presence, "See, she said." Then, she reached for me and said, "Let me get you out of that misery." At the time I was a total virgin and confessed to her. This definitely lit her fire. "I'll teach it all to you." Before five minutes passed I was exercising my tongue on her entire body, stopping at the hot region between her legs. I paused only to call home to tell my parents I was going to stay with some friends.

In the end, Pat saw to it that I became a man and for the next five years we were quiet lovers in her home, usually in bed with her little dog, bored and falling asleep while we fucked. What caused me to marvel is that the vast age between us vanished and we were like a non-stop honeymoon couple. She now lives in an assisted living community and I visit her weekly and will until she's gone. Everyone who knows us assumes I must be a grandson or grand nephew. Whatever drove me to meet her was beyond a sex drive. I had to be something spiritual because that's how it eventually ended up. In the end, we looked like family and felt that way.