IN WHICH DAVE PUTS A FEW MORE MILES ON ME.
Between my lack of lube and Dave’s injured rod, we were both hurting from our erotic wrestling match. He said he would be ready again in a few minutes, and when I marveled over the endurance he was capable of, he remarked that girls with him could come two times to his once — something I could well believe: he had gone on and on.
I'm a gorgeous goddess of a certain age who transformed from shot to hot, a feminist playa refusing to go into the sunset without a Mojito in one hand and a tumescent, throbbing ... well, you know what I mean ... in the other. Because sixty IS the new forty or even thirty I will not be dying with my boots on, but with my Jimmy Choo stilettos, thank you very much. I, a sexually liberated woman, stand defiantly against ageism and sexism, adamantly asserting not only is it possible to maintain and even enhance our sexual allure as we ripen, we women have the same right as men to romp in the hay with playmates decades younger.