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older women: how I "imprinted" m4w Good morning! Some thoughts from me on older women and my attraction to them (and to you?) on an early Friday morning in the Twin Cities...
Experts agree that at some point during early life a person's sexual identity and preferences tend to get locked into place. It's a powerful process that happens sometime during our early sexual development. I know when my preferences were locked. Now, note that I didn't know it at the time, but it subsequently become quite clear.
My parents had friends, Paul and Nickie. Paul's job involved travel away from home a great deal of time. For unimportant reasons, I was periodiy around their house the summer after I graduated from high school. The relevant details are that I was 18 years old and she was the age I am now -- 42 years old. I won't say that she seduced me, exactly. But one afternoon she sat me down and asked me some questions. Those questions elicited from me the fact that I was a virgin -- yes, yes, it's true, I was an 18-year-old virgin! She wasn't a Mrs. Robinson in demeanor, and she wasn't as pretty as Anne Bancroft. She was cuter, though! She wasn't slender; rather, she had curvey hips. And she didn't play games. More than anything, she treated me in a motherly fashion. I guess maybe the fact that she had no sons played a part in that (their only daughter had graduated two or three years before and was away in college). Do I broach taboo possibilities here? Maybe, but so what? Anyway, she made lunch for me and brought me drinks when I was at their house (I was doing some simple, though extensive, construction work). Anyway, we had a long and intimate talk, at her initiative. At her prodding, I explained my sexual experience (or lack thereof). A few handjobs and oral sex (receiving, not to completion). I can still remember Nickie's smile as I told her these things. She had her hand on my leg and I was very hard. But she only spoke. She said she found me very attracted and that she wanted us to make love. That was the phrase she used. She was very honest and said that she wanted to be my first, and wanted to introduce me to things like oral sex - for me, to completion, and for her. As you can imagine, I was a quivering mass of desire and arousal. With a reassuring smile she slipped to her knees, freed my cock from my jeans, and proceeding to give me a long, loving, unhurried sucking. You can (or, perhaps, you can't) imagine my pleasure! She told me that the next day she would take me to bed. And that next day we did spend much of the afternoon upstairs in her bedroom as she made love to me. I need not go into details as that is not the point. But through the summer I spent most of my time at her house, especially when her husband Paul was away. And we had all sorts of erotic sex. Over the following year, when I was home from college, we again made love maybe half a dozen times. One last encounter several years later was a lovely sensual trip down memory lane for both of us.
Several consequences resulted from her welcome seduction. For one, I was sexually spoiled. I would not find such a talented lover for some time after Nickie. She understood sensuality better than my lover's that followed for a long time. I would discover women who was leaner and more flexible and tighter, all nice things in their own ways. But those physical attributes could not compare to the subtle, experienced erotic touch of my first, my older, lover.
And that leads to the most significant consequence of all - my "imprinting" of older women. To this day I still find their indescribable totality the most compelling. Of course, as I have aged the relative concept of "older woman" has progressed. But the signs are universal. Wisps of gray hair or a fully gray head. Softness and curves, a body that has grown majestiy. Knowing confidence and a steady, easy, graceful touch.
Nickie was 24 years older than me. She remains the oldest relative woman I've ever physiy loved. But I have always gravitated towards women older than myself. In my mid-thirties I discovered, for the first time, the touch of a 50-something woman. How exquisite! Lovemaking in the afternoon to quench the sexual desires of a woman in her mid-fifties! I've not yet had a lover older than that, 54 years of age to be precise. But I do say "yet" because it will happen. And I think it will happen soon. It is time.
And that is how I imprinted on older women as the epitome of womanly sexuality!