This is a print version of story My young friend by blubopper from

My young friend

I'm a very young 58, in great shape and married for 37 years. Six years ago, when I was 52, something happened to me that I never would have thought I would experience, even in my wildest dreams. This is a true story.

Sex with my wife had gradually dwindled to nothing. I was not seeking an affair, but one night I was online looking for some hot chat to help me get myself off. My wife was out, and I had had a few drinks. I went into a chat room called "younger girls for older guys".

Just like most normal straight older guys, I had often seen young girls, at the mall, etc., dressed very provocatively, and fantasized about what it would be like to have sex with someone so hot. But these fantasies always evaporated quickly, as I realized that such things just don't happen in the real world, and besides, the societal taboos are very strong. That, added to my realization that I would have very little in common with a teen, and there would not be much to talk about. And their level of sexual experience would not be likely to match up with mine.

This particular night, in this chat room, I quickly arrived at these same conclusions, and exited out of the room, feeling a bit smarmy due to the creepy old men I witnessed competing for the attention of the few young women who were in the room.

Just after I left, I received an instant message from someone I had seen in the room with a screen name that contained the words "bad girl". She asked me my age, and said she wasn't really a bad girl, but was, in fact, a virgin. She said she had always been attracted to men much older than herself, and had formed crushes on a few older celebrity-types.

This girl shattered all of my preconceptions regarding older/younger relationships. She was very mature, very smart, and we had a long conversation on a variety of topics. I was floored when she told me she was 18; I couldn't believe it. She was 18 going on 29.

She informed me that she was from a midwestern state, but was going to be coming to Boston in the fall to start college.

This occurred in the month of June. So as the summer months went by (far too slowly for my taste!) we got to know each other through chat, e-mail, talking on the phone, and web-camming a bit. It wasn't long before we fell in love... madly, hopelessly, passionately. Thirty-four years her senior, and I adored her... and she, me.

As the summer drew to a close, we decided that we had gotten carried away, and with our age difference and me being married, we could only allow ourselves to be friends. We mutually agreed that we had come too far and were too curious not to meet for coffee or something, but there would be no hanky-panky. That pact took all of about 15 minutes to fall by the wayside...

In September her parents drove her to Boston, and on the second night she was here, she told them that the school was holding an orientation party that parents really weren't supposed to attend. I swung around the corner we had previously agreed on, and she hopped into my car.

At this moment it dawned on me that I really hadn't expected this to get this far, and come to reality, and I had given no thought to where we would go that night. I drove around a bit, and we talked, nervously. She smiled a lot. She was wearing an impossibly cute little low-rider skirt, a white blouse, little pink ballet slippers, and pig tails. She was the hottest, prettiest thing I had ever laid eyes on. 5'3", 115 lbs, perfect figure, perfect amber skin, kinky red hair, green eyes. Irish, Russian, and African-American.

I pulled over, and said "c'mere." She leaned over and kissed me. Then she climbed into my lap and we kissed for about 20 minutes.

We then drove to a pier and got out to take a walk. We sat on a bench at the end of the pier. I had given her a jacket that I keep in my car, which was huge on her, but it was a chilly evening. I put my arm around her shoulder. She proceeded to take my fingers, one at a time, into her mouth, and suck on them.

We went back to the car, climbed into the back, and spent about an hour having oral sex. Normally I would definitely not expect a virgin to be a satisfying experience. That she turned out to be very satisfying, in every way, was due in large part to the fact that she had educated herself very well, reading erotica and watching porn.

We spent a month sticking to oral, not wanting her first time to be remembered as being in the backseat of a car. We waited for the right opportunity, and it came. My wife went away for a weekend.

She came over to my house and I cooked her dinner. We ate, with champagne, by candlelight. I have a spare room with a futon; we took candles and champagne up, and made love all night. The next night was also sl**pless, and just as wonderful.

The long and short of it is that we spent 8 months not being able to get enough of each other. She nearly killed me. She had a virtual list of things she wanted to try, and we worked through it, taking our time. I tied her to the bed, she tied me to the bed. We shot 2 hours worth of video. We decorated each other with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, and licked it off. We parked in downtown Boston in broad daylight, people walking right by, even cops on horseback, banging our brains out. She dragged me into men's dressing rooms. I used to go up to her dorm room, after she obtained a single, and we'd get funny looks when we came out (she was very noisy, and when she couldn't scream, she banged her fist on the wall or the car window.)

She used to love to play up the shock value. There was a specific demographic that was very disapproving of seeing us together: middle-aged women. We would be waiting to be seated at a restaurant, and she would take my hand. The hostess' eyes would drop to our hands... and the bl**d would drain from her face. Her eyes would then rise to meet mine and she would glare at me. Then, in case there was any doubt, my young friend would insist on snuggling up next to me on the same side of a booth.

It came to an end at the end of the school year, when we came to the mutual agreement that it was a dead end for her, and we had to part ways. Leaving my wife was never on the table, but in the end that was what she wanted me to do; she wanted to run off to Europe together. I actually gave it some thought, but came to my senses and realized it would have been a terrible mistake. But my heart was broken, as was hers. It's been years now, and I still see ghosts of us everywhere I look. I will always, always love her.

My experience with this tells me that no dream is completely out of the question. I was just very fortunate that the Universe gave me what I had always dreamed of, even if it wasn't possible to keep. And I feel I was a positive experience for her. She was a sexual ticking time bomb, and it was going to be SOME older guy; I figure she could have done worse. She was moving alone to downtown Boston from a rural midwestern town, and I was able to spend a lot of time with her. I was a careful, patient teacher, in every way. And I learned a lot myself. I learned that age really is just a number.

This story is in honor of my beautiful, smart, amazing friend, and in no way is intended to disrespect her. She is the best person I've ever known and I love her with all my heart. It's been 5 years since I saw her last.

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