She was 21, I was 49. I messaged her and we chatted. We were both from London. She a student, me a married father of four who travels a lot.
I had to go to Paris for work. I suggested she come along. To my amazement she said yes. It was hard to keep my hands off her on the Eurostar. But somehow we made it to the hotel. The French didn’t seem to care that I could have been her dad.
She’d had plenty of sexual experience but what she hadn’t had was someone who took the time with her body. I had all the time in the world.
My strongest memory of her is her next to me on a sofa in the hotel room. Two of my fingers deep inside her and my thumb brushing her clit as she bit her lip and smiled at me on the edge of cumming.
Thanks, Rachel, it was the best.