He Stared at all that I Showed Ch. 03

"We were married for 44-years. We would have celebrated our 45th anniversary this October," he said looking as if he was about to cry.

'Wow,' forty-five years is a long time, a lifetime to be married to one person.

With people marrying younger back then, I figured he was married when he was in his early twenties. Today, happy to continue to play the field in their 30's and 40's, men don't want to commit. Today, with dating sites on the Internet enabling men to have no strings attached booty calls, it's more difficult to find Mr. Right. One would think that with the planet shrinking because of the World Wide Web, dating would be easier and more carefree. It's not.

With him not looking his age, looking more as if he was in his early sixties, I figured he was in his late sixties to early seventies. With them always an interference in my line of work, I wondered if he had children. As if he was the child instead of the parent, the last thing that I wanted was his son or his daughter showing up to put a kibosh on our sexy fun, a lock on his checkbook, or to take away his credit cards.

"Dad?" I imagined one of his kids saying to him. "What's this one-thousand-dollar check made out to cash that you wrote last week and another one-thousand-dollar check that you wrote last month...for entertainment? And I found another five-hundred-dollar check for a happy ending massage. What's that?"

As soon as he started talking about his deceased wife, as if remembering her, he looked so sad again. Just when I was deeply digging my claws in him, he had the unmitigated gall to think about his deceased wife. As if he was my hypnotized subject, I needed to return him back to me. For the times when I was with him, I needed him to forget about Sharon and think more about me and only about me.

'Me, me, me, this ruse is all about me,' I thought.

Tempted to do so, 'I bet he'd feel better if I gave him a hug and a long, wet kiss,' I thought with a laugh. 'I bet he'd feel better if I allowed him to hugged me while dry humping me. I bet he'd make a miraculous recovery in his sad mood if I allowed him to grope my tits and finger my nipples through my blouse and bra. I bet I could reverse his depressed disposition if I allowed him to feel my ass and my pussy through my jeans and panties. I bet he'd forget all about Sharon, if I gave him a hand job followed by a blowjob. God, having just met the man and already prejudging him while thinking about giving him sex, I'm so wicked,' I thought.

He broke his stare from leering at me to look down at the ground. Obviously, I was losing him. Hoping to lift his spirits, I flashed him the smile again that I hoped would melt his heart, wobble his elderly legs, and hopefully harden his antique cock. Unable to help themselves, as if the medication they're taking had eroded their suspicions and their inability to filter what they say before saying it, elderly people always volunteer too much information. Elderly people, especially elderly men, are too trusting of a young, shapely, sexy, beautiful woman. It's as if they don't care they're being taken for a ride, as long as they can go along and can ride shotgun.

'Shotgun,' I imagined him saying while climbing on top of my naked body. 'As long as he's willing to go, I don't mind taking him for a costly ride. That's fine by me,' I thought because I can certainly use the money to pay for my rent.

### ILookLikeJailBait ###

Kind, gentle, and moral men are one thing but nasty, dirty, old men are something else. As if he was my very own version of Donald Trump, men who like to look, leer, stare, and say sexually inappropriate things are what makes me want to flash them. Just as they are the ones who will certainly come across with the money, they are the ones who make me want to remove my clothes.

"If you give me a hundred-dollars, I'll show you my tits, Daddy. If you give me another hundred-dollars, I'll allow you to feel, fondle, and suck my tits too," I imagined saying to Ron in the way that I said to my foster care Dad along with a multitude of other, older men.

Dirty, old men are always so easy to please for the chance to play. Dirty, old men are always so easy to play, especially for a young, pretty, sexy woman like me to take advantage of them. Forget about sex, dirty, old men are willing to pay money for some focused attention and some sexually inappropriate conversation. Then, when sex becomes part of the equation, dirty, old men are willing to empty their bank accounts for the chance to have sex with someone like me.

'God, I love, dirty, old men, the nastier the better. I especially love those dirty, old men who feel so guilty for exposing their flaccid cocks to me that they reward me with money,' I thought while continuing to play Ron. 'I love it when dirty, old men think that they're taking sexual liberties with me, when I'm the one not only taking sexual advantage of them but also monetary advantage of them too,' I thought to myself as if giving myself pep talk.

"Oh, my God," I imagined saying while playing older men to pay. "Your cock is dangling out of your pants. I'm so embarrassed. I'm so very embarrassed. Please, put your penis away. Oh, my God, it's getting bigger. It's getting so very much bigger. I need to avert my eyes," I imagined saying. "I can't look."

### ILookLikeJailBait ###

As if already prejudging him by some of the other older men in my life, as if having memorized them, I already knew the questions he'd ask me as we got to know one another better. To his detriment, he was no different from any other older man that I played. I've lost count of how many older men I've sexually accommodated and had to put up with to earn my living.

'What size bra do you wear, Kim?"

I looked down to where he was staring before looking back up at him.

"I'm a 34 C, Daddy," I imagined saying.

He looked at me with sexual excitement.

"Tell me and be honest. Just between us. There's no need to feel embarrassed by your answer," I imagined him saying with a pause. "Do you suck cock?"

I smiled.

"Do I suck cock?" I imagined myself laughing while making a sexually excited face. "Of course, I suck cock," I said continuing to smile at him. "I love giving blowjobs. Sucking cock is one of my favorite things to do."

Obviously sexually aroused, he started breathing through his mouth instead of his nose. As if rethinking the question, he was the one who looked uncomfortably embarrassed, not me.

"Do you swallow?"

He looked at me with hopefulness while I made a sour face that obviously made him believe that I didn't swallow, when I did.

"Do I swallow?" I imagined laughing. "It wouldn't be much of a blowjob if I didn't swallow," I imagined saying to him with a sexy laugh. "I love swallowing cum, Daddy."

He leered at my hands before leering at my jean and panty covered pussy.

"Tell me, Kim, how many times a week do you masturbate?"

I smiled again before letting out a little laugh.

"No doubt, I don't masturbate as much as you do but, I can remedy that for you," I imagined saying with a dirty laugh. "When I'm done with you, you won't have a reason to masturbate yourself anymore."

He looked at me as if his pacemaker just skipped a beat.

"Do you ever think of me while masturbating yourself?"

I imagined leaning forward in my chair while giving him my sexiest smile along with my naughtiest look.

"Oh, my God, all the time. I always think of you when rubbing my clit with my vibrator, fucking my pussy with my dildo, and feeling my tits while fingering, pulling, turning, and twisting my nipples," I imagined saying.

As if he was in a trance, he leaned forward in his chair to ask me his next question.

"May I watch you masturbate yourself sometime? I'd really like to see that," I imagined him saying. "My wife never allowed me to watch her masturbate. She even told me that she doesn't masturbate but everyone masturbates, right?"

I removed my jeans and pulled down my panties.

"Yes, Daddy. Everyone masturbates and you may watch me masturbate myself right now," I imagined saying while masturbating myself.

He unzipped himself, pulled out his cock, and started to stroke himself while I masturbated myself.

"Even though I'm impotent, Kim, do you think you could take me in your hand and stroke me and then take me in your mouth to suck me?"

As if I was directing traffic, I waved him over.

"Come here and stick your cock in my mouth, Ron," I imagined saying to him.

### ILookLikeJailBait ###

Instead of calling him Ron, if I dared called him Daddy, I'd have him eating out of my hand. Yet, not just a one-way street, just as he was obviously sexually attracted to me, and with me having Daddy issues, I was sexually attracted to him, too. With me never knowing my father, I was always looking for my Daddy. With me never knowing my grandfather, I was always looking for my grandfather.

I'd definitely give the right older man sex, especially if he responded in kind by giving me money. Money was my sexual lubricant. Money is what made me sexually excited to fuck and suck. Money for sex and sex for money seemed like a fair exchange to me. Just as I had what they wanted, they had what I wanted, too. Besides what was transacted between two consenting adults is none of anyone's business.

In my line of work as an opportunist, sometimes a kind word, a bit of comfort, some flashing, and a little sex goes a long way to earn me a lot of money. Even though I called myself an opportunist, which I was, other women would more define me as a materialistic whore and what I do as what a prostitute does. Other women would never wear the clothes that I wore and that I was wearing now while stooping, bending, stretching, leaning, and flashing my new neighbor my nearly naked, young body. Other modestly moral woman would never show any man flashes of her panties, her bra, her cleavage, her ass crack, her ass, her tits, and/or her pussy, but I would for money.

Furthermore, going beyond just flashing older men, I'd give them sex for money too. While they felt my naked tits, fingered my naked nipples, squeezed and spanked my naked ass, while masturbating my naked pussy, I'd stroke their naked cocks. I'd suck their cocks for the right price and even fuck their cocks if they could still get and maintain erections.

Without out a doubt, as I've done this plenty of times before for admiring and appreciative, older men, for the right price, I was willing to show him everything he obviously wanted to see. For the right price, I'd fondle his cock and stroke his cock. For the right price, I'd allow him to cum all over my hand and all over my naked breasts. For the right price, I'd take his flaccid prick in my mouth and suck his cock. For the right price, I'd allow him to cum in my mouth and I'd swallow his cum. As long as he could maintain an erection long enough, for the right price, as long as he wore a condom, I'd fuck him.

"Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me. Make me your young bitch," I imagined saying to my new Daddy.

### ILookLikeJailBait ###

On the flipside of the coin, too many women are obesely out of shape, especially older woman. Too many women have given up on men and are no longer interested in sex. Too many women aren't very sexy. Too many women no longer want sex. Too many women aren't as young and as pretty as I am. Too many women don't have my body, my confidence, and my intelligence. My only way to earn a living was to flash men like Ron all that they wanted, hoped, and needed to see of me. While I still had it, I needed to flaunt it. While I still had it, I needed to make money with it.

'Sex for money and money for sex was my mantra, it sounded like a fair exchange to me. Sex for money and money for sex, Ron was my next victim who needed to pay me to play.'

To be continued...

*****

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