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This is a question Cougars and Sugar Daddies

Tell us your stories of age gap shags. No paedo gags please.

Inspired by The Resident Loon

(, Thu 4 Dec 2008, 13:55)
Pages: Latest, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, ... 1

This question is now closed.

Am I the only one
who found the Angel/Buffy romance deeply creepy?
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 9:00, 11 replies)
Holiday romance...
In April last year I met this sweet young thing in Portugal. Ended up doing it in every position known to man-(and woman)kind.

Then the little slut did a runner after selling her story to the press. Nobody's seen or heard from her since.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 8:41, 2 replies)
26 years older
i was 20 and had just broken up with my first "real, serious, probably marry" girlfriend. As a 3rd year student nurse i still had to work with a more experienced staff member. She was 46, been a nurse assistant since she was 17, had 2 daughters (one of whom was in the same nursing class as me) and had divorced her husband 6 months before. Oh by the way did i mention said ex-husband was also the assistant director of the hospital we worked in?
Anyway she had heard about my break up through the work grapevine and told me i needed cheering up, so would take me for a drink after work. i reluctantly agreed only because she kept going on about it. I was living in the nurse's home at the time and she asked if we could stop in there so she could freshen up. After 15 minutes in the bathroom, she walked into my room in a dressing gown which was removed the instant the door closed. It was all very surreal because i was really miserable, the last thing on my mind was sex with a fat old lady but she literally fucked me, or any parts of me that weren't damaged all night. I asked her to stop at about 6 in the morning as we had to start work at 6:45. I had sex with her friend, also alot older, a few years later and that is still the best sex i have ever had.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 7:03, Reply)
Sugar mummy
I don't know why but ever since I was about fourteen, I have really liked older women. The classy kind, you know, the ones who go for lunch and smoke those really thin cigarettes and talk French.

So there's me, twenty-one, a skinny blonde chick, and I was in a bar and in came this lady with a mink coat and diamonds and a husky voice. I thought she was just charming. Apparently it was mutual.

So she was fifty-six. Whatever. We started dating. Her daughter was older than me. She was older than my parents. Whatever.

So one day she took me out to dinner in this fancy restaurant where I had to pretend to know how to use the fork, and when we came in, the maitre d' came up all smiling to say hello to her, and he said "Oh how lovely to see you Elise, is this your daughter?"

It would have been quite embarrassing, except that she just smiled evilly and said "NO."

He said "Congratulations!"

Oh dear me. I have never been so obviously lesbian-arm-candy in all my days. Then I realised that although for me it was a fetish or something, she probably just assumed she was my sugar mummy. I tried to convince her that I was actually with her for her looks, but she wasn't buying it. So we broke up.

I always seem to get things backwards.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 6:33, Reply)
I was only two years older than my ex
when we first met, but that's quite a big age gap when you're just shy of 16. Of course, we both held our rampant teenage hormones in check until everything was legal and above board, your honour. Of course we did.

I did marry her 8 years later, though, so I'm not a nonce.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 4:17, Reply)
I wasted my precious youth.
But I told the cops he ran away.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 2:39, 1 reply)
and this is my wife ...
Oh no! it's the wife/hubby run! seems to be a theme in this QOTW trust me it can be so much worse...
Close your eyes and picture the scene (ok don't close your eyes else you cant read the rest of the story so maybe squint a little)
Aged 16 all my mates braggging about there excting and varied conquests feeling the need to have at least one tale to tell in I never I was ON THE PULL!
And as was luck would have it, first bar we go to there was one gourgeous guy who couldnt keep his eyes off me!
Him: " not wanting to be too forward but you're gourgeous!
Me: (glutton for compliments) Oh thanks im *loobyla* im 16 are you in my college...
*lots of conversation where he defintly assures me that he too is a collge student a bit older then me at 22 studying something or other which made it seem quite beliveable etc*
One thing leads to another and I have my skirt hiked up and my legs spread eagled all over his top quality bedroom suite ("this seems well nice for a student" "oh um yeah...")

Every position known to my young mind and plus some was enjoyed until the inevitable sleepy time.
Wakes up and turns bleary eyed to a grinning bed partner
(actual quote, these words for ever burnt upon my memory)
"hey cutey, i know i said i was 22 well.. if truth be told im 31 ("ahh waaaaah") this is my wife x she was listening over last night how do you feel about a mummy and daddy's game"
Run? I was out there so fast a lovely old dear had to tell me on the bus my skirt was inside out.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 1:36, 2 replies)
that girl from the lazytown thing
...........am I the only one that would?
I'm 19 so it isnt that bad, i think.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 1:22, 8 replies)
Before time runs out
I will relay the tale of my friend, who shall remain nameless as he is now happilly shacked up with someone much nearer his own age.

My friend, before his current ladyfriend, accquired a bit of a reputation as a granny grabber. Now, granny is a subjective term, here, but considering he is only just 21, ladies in their mid forties can easiy be considered grannies.

The second one, the one who cemented his reputation, is actually a very attractive lady. She is actually a real life granny, but a very very attractive one, also a very nice person too. The odd thing is, and this comes from me listening to him telling one of my other friends about their little tryst, that he seems to have gotten a bit carried away. You see, about two years ago, this lady had a breast cancer scare. You know what small villages are like, all the gossip, but she apparently had to have a mastectomy. My friend can neither confirm nor deny this rumour, as he "didn't notice" the exact amount of boobies he was fondling. At that point in the conversation it became apparent I was listening as I snorted lager out of my nose. I find it a little hard to believe, and say this proves she simply told him to piss off when he arrived drunk at her door.

The first one, the legendary one, is a confirmed kill, however. We refer to the lady fondly as Shergar. She's had a crack at most of the younger fellows round here since splitting up with her husband, allegedly after being caught having an affair. She seemed to get my friend under some sort of spell, and despite him asking me to stop him if he ever went near her again, he constantly would stagger to her door, awkwardly say hello to the daughters (who he had been at school with) and deprave himself.

Even the argument we witnessed between her and her ex husband didn't put him off. It turned out he had left her because she had contracted chlamydia and given it to him. She was in full denial mode, bringing the pub to a standstill as she ranted and raved like a lunatic, calling this poor man every name under the sun. How he sat there and preserved his dignity I do not know.

Withing ten minutes of her leaving the pub, my friend left too.

He doesn't have many brains.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 0:26, Reply)
Getting a Marshmallow into a Piggybank.
She was 46. I was 21. She had Bowie-esque angled features and a body not ruined by giving birth to her son, my friend, who we shall call Abel.

Outside a kebab shop at Canon Circus, Nottingham, she recognized me from Rock City, as I had spent the night getting hideously drunk with her son. We chatted, and, as is customary in town at 2.30 am early sunday, swiftly got down to tongue-exchange, much to the joy of horn-blowing passing taxis. 'Come with me' she purred,and gestured down Ilkeston Road, where she resided, 'spend the night'. I considered this proposition, weighed it against the fresh, satisfying prospect of eating the kebab I had just purschased...the kebab was binned. I was careful to inform her of this sacrifice. 'Thats romantic', she said demurely, and seemingly without irony.

A night of passion ensued, for about thirty minutes, whereabouts the booze took hold and I passed out, still in the process of a second run, a process akin to stuffing a marshmallow in a piggy-bank. In the morning, I hastily dressed and left, happy that her teeth were still in her mouth, not swimming in a bed-side jar.

For fear of Abel's revenge, I kept away from him and avoided Rock City for several weeks, until in a fit of Thunderbird Red-inspired courage, I ventured in. Instantly, I saw Abel, he saw me, and a game of cat and mouse ensued, ducking through the crowds, down corridors and stairwells to avoid the chunky thug. Then, just as I thought I was safe, he cornered me by the Gents, pushed me against the wall, pulled his head back ready to butt...then kissed me full on the lips and said, in an infantile voice...'Daddy'.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 0:25, 9 replies)
sexy secretary
A few years back when I was a budding 21 year old student / drunkard I arranged to meet up with a friend of mine in a Hoxton pub one Friday night. Amongst the various media-types accompanying him on this drinking frenzy was his new secretary who had started working that Monday. She was 34.

Being a young scamp I had eyes only for ladies my own age, until that night. I drank, she drank, I looked at her, she looked at me.. To cut a long story short it ended with us completely butt naked, disgracefully drunk, vodka bottle in hand, getting jiggy on my friend's kitchen table, in a shared apartment.

I woke up grinning from ear to ear. Quite remarkably she did too! Mainly because she viewed me as a kind of 'toyboy', but something I nevertheless quite enjoyed. She invited me to spend the day with her, telling me she had a spare ticket for Man UTD vs Arsenal who were playing that day. ACE I thought.

We got on the tube and, still being rather drunk, didn't actually click that we weren't heading anywhere near the Arsenal ground until we were on a train heading out of London! She said she had to go home first to get the tickets. 'oh.. ok', I thought. Seemed plausible enough.

We pull into the station, a small town about an hour west of London. As we get into her car and drive precariously through the lanes I look over and realised I knew absolutely nothing about this woman. Why was I in a car going to her house? The match ticket just seemed odd, as did the fact she was rushing home to meet her 'housekeeper'. It was only upon reaching her house that the truth became blindingly clear. This was a housekeeper that also doubled as a babysitter, because she has TWO fucking kids! And not little babies either. A six year old girl (present) and ten year old boy (not present).

Studying the strained look in my eyes, she begins to stammer out another twist to his unfolding saga.. The football match story she'd used to coax me back to this family home wasn't for Man UTD vs Arsenal - it was for an under 10s football match which her son was playing in! "Oh." was about the only words I could summon up in my confused, hungover state.

As luck would have it we'd missed the match but I still had to sit in the front room and build a lego hospital with her daughter while she had a shower. As I attempted awkward conversations ("So.. you're six then?") I just couldn't get the image of her mum out of my head, cavorting around the apartment naked before pinning me down on the kitchen table like some wild sex-hungry animal. It was making me feel incredibly uncomfortable.

After a short while she came downstairs and said we had to go pick her son up. Somewhat relieved I left her daughter with the babysitter, grabbed my jacket and accompanied her to the football ground. Still rather freaked out by this whole situation I smiled uncomfortably as he got in the car and we made our way to... a greetings card shop. "Oh, we need to buy a card for the birthday party." 'What?' I gulped. "Oh, don't worry. We just have to drop him off. We don't need to go inside."

Yet again, this didn't turn out to be the full truth as we walked inside a noisy, riotous kids birthday party surrounded by dozens of parents, balloons, excited kids.. the whole lot. I'm literally terrified, and as I look around the room at 'fellow' parents I notice a strange smirk on her face. She was actually enjoying this. Not only that but she seemed to be, well.. showing me off, as a kind of trophy to her 30-odd year old parent friends. An intensely bizarre cocktail of feelings I can assure you. Was I angry? Frustrated? Surely I should be flattered. Whatever it was, I wanted the hell out of there and fast! My sweating and nervous twitching ensured this and we went back to hers where we fell asleep for a few hours.

Despite swapping numbers we never met again. That was a window inside a world I never ever want to be a part of again and which, subsequently, meant all future conquests were to receive full police-style interrogation before anything further could possibly happen.
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 0:16, 5 replies)
i want to start...
... by saying in general i have no problems with age-gaps. the happiest couple i know is my dad and his girlfriend and theres 16 years between them...

however, i seem to have a'freak' magnent and past experiances make me doubious of the intentions of older men...

1/ At 16 spend most time at the local arcade as 16 year olds do. Thought nothing of the lovely chappy that managed the place and always found him to be a decent bloke, even if he was an oldie (about late 30's i'd say)
And that was how we ended up just the two of us one evening with the doors locked.
Looking back now he was a groom-er and theres no way he should be working in an under-18's arcarde. give me the creeps just thinking about it. Just because its legal at 16 doesnt not make it right - you got to have some morality judgement somewhere.

2/ okay im mainly to blame but when i was till at school i told a guy i was seeing that i was 18, but in my defence only an idiot would of fallen for that line. He wasnt old-old but at 22 he should of konwn better. We saw eachother for a few months but he tured out to be a little to weird for me... and when 6 months later i find out he was at her majesties pleasure for child sex crimes i tried to reproess all memories of him

And just so i dont sound to depressing... If a friend introduces you to thier older 'friend', check they are infct friends, not (ex)stepson and (ex)stepdad. They found it rather funny. I however did not. Still, we had a good few months together :)
(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 0:13, Reply)
On saturday
I was at a party. An incredibly attractive young lady decided to sit on my knee. A few longing looks were directed into my eyes, all of which went completely over my idiot head. After a short while, she stood up and sultrily purred "I'm going outside for a fag" and wandered away, gazing back over her shoulder at me.

I sat there like a lemon.

About ten minutes later, she came back in, looking a bit frozen round the edges, and said "I sat out there for ages waiting, but NO-ONE (at this point she gave me a withering glare) came out!" and stormed off upstairs.

Useless. Absolutely useless, that's me.

A full thirteen and a bit years younger than me though..... I think that might have technically made me a bad person anyway, so it's for the best, isn't it? Tell me it is. TELL ME IT IS!

(, Tue 9 Dec 2008, 0:07, 1 reply)
This is such a shit QOTW
Yes, most of us have shagged somebody considerably older or younger than us. Woo fucking hoo.
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 23:27, 11 replies)
Oh... now I feel right at home here!
Let me think...

Number 1:

Lost my virginity to an 18-year-old when I was 19. It all went downhill from there.

Number 2:

Next one was 17 (I was still 19). Apparently she was the village bike... didn't find that out until afterwards though. (Got to fuck her again about 8 years later on the rebound from number 4 below...)

Number 3:

Bit of a gap. I was 21. She was 15. No, we didn't break the law, we waited. I spent quite a while in extreme discomfort (although she did give good head in the meantime). Finally did the deed on new years' day... and it wasn't that great. But it was a relationship that lasted nearly 5 years so we must have been doing something right. Still really close friends (not with benefits though, I don't actually fancy her at all any more!)

Number 4:

Her, 18. Me, 27. Love at first sight. After just over 3 months we were looking for houses together, talking about baby names etc.

Then after 6 months she stopped talking to me for no apparent reason whatsoever.

I later find out from her friend (who I also nearly ended up shagging but that's another story) that she'd been abused as a kid and something inside her had snapped and she'd had a total mental breakdown. About 4 weeks after her 19th birthday. She'd become convinced that I was going to stab her while she was asleep, she'd even told her friend that the voices in her head were telling her that I was planning to kill her.

Took me a year (and a smashed up car) to get over that.

Number 5:

Started talking to her on some forum (no, not b3ta). She lived in France but was from Devon originally. After a few months she told me she was coming back to Devon. Said she was 18...

Then admitted she was actually 17...

Oh well... still legal, can learn to drive... so we met up. And ended up getting to third base on the first date.

A couple of days later I get a call from her friend's mum (who she's staying with)... "do you know she's actually 16?" Errm, no...

Thought about it and decided that as I quite liked her I'd stick it out. Then there was that one night that she lifted a bottle of vodka from Tesco and downed it whilst sat in the back of the car. 5 minutes later she puked her guts up and passed out.

Cue a trip to A&E in an ambulance. When she came round she said to me "well... you wanted the car christening!" (I'd had it for 3 months... 45 quid it cost me to get it valeted and get rid of the smell!)

Eventually she did put out in the back of the car, and now has the honour of being the person that christened my brand new car in more ways than one. And as for the performance... she was a complete minx. Grabbed the back of my head, pushed her tit in my face and shouted the immortal words "make me fucking bleed bitch!"

Can't fault her performance, I'll give it that!

Then she pissed off back to France. She's back in Devon permanently now, we're still friends but a lot's changed. Oh... and now she really is 18 coming up 19.

Number 6:

Now... this one caused me some grief. Met her... somewhere... can't even remember now. 18... or so I thought (you know where this is going!). The first night we were together was just non-stop sex, screaming orgasms all night.


Her ex's ex who's also a friend of mine (confusing I know!) rang me up and said "you know that ***** you're going out with... you know she's not really 18 don't you? You do know she's actually 15?" errm... no... SHIT... panic panic...

Confronted her about it... more like an interrogation actually... and she admitted that she'd added 3 years to her age and was actually 15. In my defence she looked way older...

Took her home the next morning. Stayed in touch but that was a bit too much of a gap. Even though she's legal now.

Number 7:

Don't get me started... *sighs* Full details in a previous QOTW answer. She lost the baby in the end but won't walk away from a guy that treats her like crap and she hates.

And staying on topic... she was 18 last month.

Number 8:

Thought I'd have a go at internet dating. Big mistake. Met this girl, she seemed really nice, sweet, decided to meet up with her. She wanted to come home with me. Game on, I thought. One thing led to another, I ended up getting some...

Then afterwards she decided she wanted to go home, like... now.

And told me "there's two things I need to tell you... I'm not 18, I'm 16... and I've got a kid I need to get home to."

Oh joy. Now I don't mind kids (understatement!) but I wish she'd told me sooner!

Number 9:

Rachelswipe? Can I have your babies? (Oh, wait...)

(8 inches... and plenty of girth.)
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 23:06, 9 replies)
I'm not sure if I prefer older or younger guys really
as I've been the (almost) jail bait and cougar type over the years. My oldest was 42 - I was told he was late 20s and he did look very young and fit, when I was 16. I was out as a tag along to keep my friend company for the day as she wasn't allowed to go out with her boyfriend by herself. Should have really set alarm bells ringing itself, but for some reason it didn't. So we spent the day trawling from bar to bar getting more and more drunk until we ended up at his place later that evening. It was only when we were both down to our underwear that he asked how old I was. To his credit, he didn't push me to go any further than we did and we stayed friends for a while after - well til I found out he was 42, twice divorced with three kids and was living with his current girlfriend.
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 21:59, 5 replies)
Me, partly responsible for someone losing there job
I’m a worrier, thinker and prolific masturbator by night, mechanical engineer by day. This involves travelling between jobs on a 12 month basis, systematically building crap constructions like prisons, schools and hospitals that should last 25 years but in reality will only last a maximum of 10 years. Not building them by myself of course, even I am not that great.

A couple of years back we were building a hospital in Daventry. In my opinion, Daventry is the single most depressing place in England, and that is some statement considering I’ve been to Wolverhampton. Everyone who lives there seems to be old and I cannot think of that place without picturing 1985 movie classic ‘Cocoon.’ It’s literally a landscaped version of a Ring and Ride Bus, and it stinks of piss.

On this particular job, my site office was situated pretty much at the end of someone’s garden. Obviously there was a fence dividing us, and our windows were frosted to prevent us stereotypical builder types from peaking at the elderly woman who lived there. When I say elderly, she was actually about 60, and she was pretty attractive for her age. Therefore a man of little to no standards like myself, definitely would.

Anyway, my office had a lock and a wireless doorbell. I didn’t know this could happen but every time the ladies doorbell rang, mine would also start ringing. Quite amusing the first couple of times it happened. Then I started to get a bit suspicious of how many times it was ringing. Being a bit of a sad twat I decided to count how many times it went off in a day. Twelve fucking times on one occasion! Who’s fucking door bell rings twelve times over the course of a day? Being an assuming type I decided that she was some sort of high class, elderly hooker during the day and respectable house wife by night. Looking back, this was a pretty horrible accusation and the situation ended a bit messy.

Anyone who has worked on building sites will appreciate you get all kinds of characters working on them. From labourers to architects you get a wide range of people. There was a kid on this job who was fucking nuts. The kind of person you say jump to he would say how high? So I told this kid about my doorbell continually ringing and that I thought the lady living there was running some kind of brothel. Like any other time I told him something he just nodded at me and smiled with enthusiasm in between his evident cocaine twitch. I thought nothing of this conversation until two police men took him away for questioning and he didn’t return to the job.

The rumour going round a few weeks later was that he had knocked on the door asking for sex and had ended up in a punch up with her old man. He obviously got the bullet for this and I’m still amazed he didn’t bring me into the situation.

It’s fair to say I felt a bit guilty afterwards but at this point I was still convinced she was running some kind of knocking shop. This was until I found out she was actually a physio, and the 8 to 12 door rings were clients.
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 19:28, 1 reply)
in the words of my fellow workmate..
''my aim in life is to get on the sex offenders list''
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 19:05, 6 replies)
inserting my penis into a vagina. fucking love it. can't get enough. i would do it all day if i could. too bad i cant because my partner (older. younger. it all gravy) gets too sore. heh. anyone who hasnt enjoyed a good fuck hasnt lived
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 17:49, 11 replies)
I answered this one a while back.
My most memorable cougar experience can be found here.

It rather put me off them for a long while, to say the least. In fact, I still am.

So I decided to go the opposite direction. As a waiter I made reasonable money, so I got a flat in a better area. By this time I was about 25, so I reasoned that basically anything of legal age was fair game.

I found out several things:

-a girl in her late teens may have a firm body with smooth skin and a tight mimsy, but she doesn't yet really know how to use it, so it's much like having an inflatable doll that makes odd sounds. Most likely she'll just lie there like a frightened possum. Be prepared to do all of the work.

-if you decide that you're going to teach said young girl how to use what she has properly, it's going to take a lot of time, effort and patience to get her past the point of standard missionary position with the lights off. Be prepared for a lot of cajoling and persuasion.

-during this time you have to constantly reassure her that she's what you want, that what you've asked her to do isn't weird or sick (yes, oral sex is normal and can be enjoyable), and that you're not planning on just dumping her for the next pert bottom that passes you by. Be prepared for a lot of tears.

-once you have her to the point where she's comfortable having sex with you and knows that you're not intending to dump her, she will start trying to use sex to manipulate you. Be prepared for a lot of pouting.

-when you finally tire of all the head games and dump her, she'll turn into the Wronged Woman and wail to anyone within earshot about how you only wanted to get into her knickers and you're a callous bastard whose only goal is to get his cock wet. Be prepared for a lot of shouting and accusations, and to have your sex life made very public.

-and last but not least- it's not worth the effort.

These days I prefer to stick with women around my own age, and to be clear to the point of being blunt about what I want out of our time together and what will send me scrambling for the hills. Some women find my directness to be off-putting, while others find it to be a relief not to have to worry about hidden agendas and expectations.

Cougars? Nymphettes? You can have the whole sorry lot of them. Sex is better now than at any other time in my life.
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 17:21, 9 replies)
few years ago one of my mates shagged one of my other mate's sister. she's 10 years or so older but looks exactly like her brother. either he was too pissed to notice or liked the thought of shagging dave only with tits and a fanny.

(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 16:47, 2 replies)
Not technically an age gap but still sleazy.
Long time ago an ex of mine (who was only two years younger than me) had a party at her parents house and as her cousin was staying in her room we spent the night in her younger sisters bedroom.

I have to say it was very weird to be on the 'short strokes' and to glance around the room to not only notice a young girls school uniform but to see the school photo of a 13 year old version of my girlfriend smiling at me as we banged away on her Bros quilt cover.
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 16:40, Reply)
I pulled a girl in a pub
I took her home and we got down to it. Before the deed she confessed that she was not 18 but in fact 16. I thought ok I'm 23 no biggy shes hot and its legal.

After the deed she said "I've fancied you for ages you know"

"You've seen me before?" I inquired

"Yeah" she replied "I go to the school where you work"

I was worried I was going to get found out and sacked for about a week then my mate fucked her too and I realised she was a bit of a goer and the chances of work finding our were bugger all.

I no longer work there now anyway.

Good shag for a 16 year old though

I'll tell the story about how I took a 16 year old girls virginity in a tent at Reading festival aged 23 without finding out her name tomorrow. Oh wait never mind.

*edit* I have always been honest about my past with my wife and she tells me I was a disgusting whore. This QOTW has made me realise how right she is
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 16:13, Reply)
Just too polite
I've had some really good experiences with older women, but this one could double as my lowest of the low moment.
Scene - aged 18 and left in a club after my then girlfriend had gone home tired. To make matters worse, it was her birthday and I should really have gone with her. Unfortunately, I was alcohol fuelled and, shockingly for a teenager, incredibly selfish - so I stayed and by now was wearing beer goggles about 3 feet thick.
Anyway, a woman starts dancing with me, there's a bit of bump and grind and, hey presto!, we end up back at her place. Only the lighting is much less flattering here and, oh dear, she's a bit more ravaged than I thought? But... well, I'm here now and it would be a shame not to, wouldn't it?
Noooo - listen to your gut instinct, you fool. I was okay with the slight moustache, but when the top came off and I saw the hairy moles and a flat, wrinkly chest, it was just too much.
Problem - how do I get out of this? I pretended I needed the toilet and headed to the bathroom to think. Nothing obvious came to mind as I stared at my reflection in the mirror and I just couldn't bring myself to tell her that having actually seen her I just didn't fancy it. There's just no polite way to put it.
So... I tell myself just to get on and get it over with - it won't be THAT bad and, besides, the trouser snake is unlikely to care. Trouble is, there's a big difference between being ready for action and actually firing the heavy artillery. I climbed on board and we got at it and she was loving it and there am I - eyes tightly shut desperately trying to think of something sexy to provide a climax. Nothing doing and I'm too naive to even think of faking it. It went on for what seemed like hours before I was finally able to squirt something out and bring the sorry saga to a close.
On the bright side, she said it was the best shag she'd ever - it's a kindness that she'll never know it was for all the wrong reasons.
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 15:29, 2 replies)
Just remembered this one.
Me - 16
Him - mid twenties

I seriously think my mum was on psychedelic drugs around my late teens. She hooked up with this big, ugly and stupid no-hoper of a DJ, (I say this because she was always a looker in her younger years). Now he had a friend, a skinny, creepy and stupid next door neighbour who seemingly took a shine to me. For some strange reason my mum's boyfriend managed to convince my mum to convince me to go on a date with this guy.

'Now Blousie it's only the cinema', she said, 'he's lonely and just wants cheering up'.

So off I trot, under duress, to go and see Breaking Glass with Hazel O'conner, (remember that one my fellow middle aged B3tans). I knew he was after getting in my knickers but why couldn't my mum see that too. I sat through the whole film not saying a word and just hoping he didn't try to put his hand anywhere soft or warm or both.

Anyway, the film finishes and we go home still in silence. He turns up the next day with a t-shirt and the LP soundtrack to the film as gifts. I squirm as I accept them and hope to God my mum hasn't turned into some 3rd rate pimp and ask me to sleep with him.

Thankfully she seems to now realise his intentions and has a word with her boyfriend about letting him down gently. This seems to work as he never bothers me again apart from furtive glances at my nubile young body. (God! was I ever nubile?)

Now reading all these posts about 16 year olds and their older boyfriends I just don't get it. At that age I would never have touched with a bargepole a guy who was over 20. They just seemed soooooo old. Maybe I was immature but I don't think I was. Maybe it was due to the fact that we grew up a lot slower than young girls nowadays. It was the first and last time an older guy took an interest in me, (that I know of), and after reading the current qotw I'm a little sad now.
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 15:22, 6 replies)
all of these storys make me a little sad
still being a virgin and all...
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 15:06, 3 replies)
My first girlfriend.
I was about 8, she was about 18. She was a very famous actorist, in the british hit "Eastenders". We went out on our first date, where we went skating. It was love at first sight, we held hand and went around in circles along the race track. My heart was beating, and then she kissed me, and I knew she would always be the one.

Sadly, it never worked out, and she turned to the Coke.

Here is a photo of us.

(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 14:26, 15 replies)
the day I lost my virginity
I had just turned 16 (by two days), she was 29, an artist, sort of goth/hippy, bright red lipstick, high boots, flowing dresses, lived near me and I knew her (and her boyfriend) from them being members at the country club I worked a few evenings each week.

I saw her as I got off the bus, she laughed when she saw me in my school uniform as she thought I was a lot older than my skinny 6'2" frame suggested. She asked me if i wanted to have a cup of tea and talk as she had split up with her other half and was upset and 'needed cheering up'.

Two hours later, I am no longer a virgin, my back is ripped to shreds and I am stoned off my gourd, bollock naked lying on a sheet on the floor, she has put make-up on me as I was 'so young and beautiful' (if you saw me now you would laugh at that one)and my body has been painted head to toe with images of tropical fish swimming through a coral reef, and my cock is a conger eel coming out of a crevice.

I do not have any 'scars' from this experience and to be quite honest think she - and the time - was an absolutely fantastic way to 'open my account' but imagine how confused I was on realising this was not the way most people view sex. Or the look on the face of my first proper girlfriend (a few weeks later - also 16, girl next door type) when I suggested after we had first undressed that we get baked, paint our bodies, spank each other and try anal.

Length - not long the first time but progressively better as I did it more.
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 14:09, 2 replies)
Inspired by Dark Matter..
These were between 30 and 34...

W&S.. two lovely younger men that took me home and kept me awake all night.. still makes me smile all these years later

M.. Turned out to be muckier than a French Binman, despite being a shy young Richard Gere lookalike..

S.. Lovely young redhead, ringer for Josh Homme, and I'm still on good terms with him..

S.. Let me drag him home from a nightclub and do mad things to him, the day after I was dumped. Then he told me he was only 18..

V.. Another happy readheaded rugby/beermonster who I met in the Gents at a nightclub

M.. Ex/Fuckbuddy/mate.. complicated young man who I can't seem to get out of my pants, or system...

J&S.. Drunken strip poker turned into every bloke's fantasy, until her boyfriend came home, in the escape bid, I left my pants behind...Oh deary deary me...

Had the toyboy t shirt for years until it was so old and bedraggled I had to cut it up for dusters.. Now I want to find a bloke my own age, thats not either married or manky..
(, Mon 8 Dec 2008, 13:48, 2 replies)

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