I was in Phoenix on business last week, and called Alice, a gorgeous single older woman who I had always had an eye out for. We hadn’t talked in years, but I knew she lived in the area because of occasional social media “hello’s” over the years.
She was happy to hear from me, and invited me over to dinner. I showed up with a bottle of wine and she met me at the door, looking fine, a little drunk and possibly horny. She took the bottle of wine from my me, grabbed my hand and led me inside.
I followed her into the kitchen, and set the bag down. She turned around and melted into my arms, her hot moist lips urgently pressing against mine, her tongue flickering around against mine, her breath warm on my cheek. I felt her shapely body pressed against my gym-hardened sides, and my hands found her hips as we kissed.
A moment later, we pulled back a little. “Wow,” Alice breathed. “I had forgotten what a sexy man you are.” I chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her. “You are model gorgeous,” I argued. She crinkled her face into a grateful smile, and then moved forward for another passionate kiss.