The old leather chair creaked, the occupant shifting their weight to relax into it. A hand slowly reached out to the small table beside the chair to grasp at a half-empty glass of wine. There were several bright cherry red lipstick smears on the rim of the glass, contrasting from the dark liquid inside. A puff of smoke erupted from the occupant, and the same hand deposited a burnt out cigarette, ashing it into the ceramic tray on the table. A sigh emanates from the sitter, and in a soft yet domineering tone, a woman said, “That’s enough. Stand up.”
Melissa smirked at the boy before her. He was barely a man, 19 at the oldest. She was at least 10 years his senior, yet she couldn’t help be fascinated by him. What was his goal? In the messages he had sent over the Internet dating site, he seemed to be a self-proclaimed ‘MILF-hunter’, yet he had been at her feet for the past 30 minutes borderline worshiping them. He rose, somewhat uncomfortably, and stood silently. “Well?” Melissa asked, “Get rid of those clothes. All of them.” Wordlessly, the boy complied, removing his polo and slacks, and then his boxers. Melissa couldn’t help but audibly chuckle at his genitals, which were standing at attention.