My First Older Guy - Ch 2
I said I’d never done it, but as he held my waist and lifted me, I knew I’d be OK.
‘I’m cooking!’
He declared as he kicked off his shoes and padded barefoot to my kitchen. It wasn’t far. I lived in a tiny bedsit. One room and a shower room with a toilet. He filled it, like I say he’s a big guy. In my kitchen cooking the meal, he looked totally at home.
We ate pasta in a fancy sauce, ate ice cream from one big dish, talked and laughed. Then he washed up, and I dried.
Then he took my hand and led me to the bed.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Daizy’s Substack to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.