I was 22 and in college. I was a regular lurker on craigslist, looking for older tops looking for younger. I'd email with a lot of them, occasionally put up my own posts, but invariably chickened out. I don't know what was different about this time, but it sounded like we had similar interests, we discussed what we both wanted, and I just said fuck it, let's do it. He worked nearby, so we set up a plan after very little chat, and met at his car in the parking lot in the middle of the day and went to his house. He was married, balding, and gray with a bit of a belly, about 55, aka exactly my type.I was nervous as hell. Here I was, 22 years old in a car with someone 30 years older, about to live out my most secret fantasy I've had since I could first jack off. We're exchanging pleasantries, but my mind is a haze, and it's obvious we're both nervous and excited about this forbidden little tryst we're about to have.Skipping the small talk, we get to his house and go to a bedroom. We're. For instance, this one time they had spent the night out drinking. This was before they had k**s, a few years back. The entire walk back home they had talked about this girl he had apparently flirted on, or was it that he glanced at her too much for her liking? The whole walk home had been something like “do you find her pretty? Would you fuck her? No, not even that, would you let her suck your cock if she asked, no, she begged you to?” It had been a blurry jealous rant. When they got home, both completely frozen by the winter cold, she poured two glasses of grappa and rolled a joint. She hadn't let go of this girl, even though she probably didn't even remember who she was, what she looked like and what she did. She was just jealous, drunk and angry, but the hash was kicking in and the intoxication was becoming complete. He took the joint from her hand, smoked some more. They hadn't even finished their glass of grappa when she got up and went to the bedroom. “Come” she said, walking.
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