Best Older Woman Younger Man Romance Novels Novels & Stories

All around her was a cloud of light, hazy smoke. “Take care of it,” the man urged as he stroked his cock. He grumbled, frustrated. “What is that old man up to?” he inquired, running his hand through his unruly hair. “I still want to fuck that girl; I like them when they’re young and innocent.” “You realize you can’t have her.” “Why not? She married him despite the age difference between them. She’s a gold digger and seems to have a thing for older guys.”

“Oh, Harlow! Don’t be wound so tight! Don’t you know this old granny has to live vicariously through you? I’m too old for a romance myself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing about them.” “I can see that,” I said, meaning the second half of her comment. “I don’t think you’re ever too old for romance, Grandma. Aren’t any of those men from your pack that you used to have feelings for still around? Other than Horace.” I made a face at his name. I definitely didn’t want Grandma going back to that grumpy old man. “Oh, I suppose so,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “But I don’t think that’s for me. I would much rather hear about young love and know my granddaughter has some nice,

I half-smile at him. "I knew it was just a fucking hangover. Did you ever hear a girl ending up with her childhood boyfriend?", he throws a sarcastic smile. "Or else marrying someone who is of her age. I mean women crave for older men than them. Admit it. You were in an infatuation, babygirl", he says as he lightens a cigarette. I keep listening to his nonsense. He must be obsessed with dark romance books where most of the women accept the slavery of men and loves to be abused, then end up loving the same abuser. Wake up, Mr Gomez. You have still not known me. I shrug into my mind.

More… specific. I read romance novels and decided the first step to getting his attention was to make him see me as something other than Jane’s little friend. I started wearing shorter skirts when I knew I’d see him. Tighter tops. I’d pull my hair up to expose my neck, mimicking gestures I’d seen in movies. But he never gave me a second glance. Not until I went for the nuclear option. Last night, I sent him photos. Not just any photos. Explicit ones. Carefully angled, lit by the dim lamp in my dorm room, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sent them to his private email, the one I’d memorized from seeing it on paperwork years ago.

“Fifty-five?” “Forty-one.” My jaw falls open. “You fit perfectly.” He gives me a puzzled look. “With what?” “You see, I’ve read a couple of books where a young, budding woman falls in love with the grumpy man old enough to be her father. You have tattoos, a couple of graying hairs, cool tattoos, a little bit of work on your wardrobe and we could still find you a wife!”

Cela said. "Oh, you are a writer. Are you into romance writing? You can write our story if you ran out of ideas for your stories," the old lady offered. "I think yours is a sweet love story, isn't it? I could tell," Cela said. She's enjoying the conversation with the old couple.

If they have enough, they will leave. But this woman, however, is devoted to him, never willing to spend the night with other men, even if the money is higher. Instead of spending time with the old woman at home, it's better to be with this woman every night. Mr. Chen is the youngest man among them. At most, he is only 40 years old, at least much younger than the old man sitting beside her. "Miss light, would you like to have a snack with me?" The old man's hand is not restless but also not too presumptuous, he moved his hand towards her shoulder.

“I’m sorry if it seems I’m meddling, sir. It’s just… with your age difference, do you really think the girl feels the same way you do?” Damien’s brows knit together, his head tilting slightly. “Excuse me?” The other attendant shot her a panicked look, whispering for her to stop, but the woman ignored her. “I’ve seen cases like this,” she continued. “The girls stay with older men for the lifestyle, the money while their hearts belong to someone younger.” For a moment, silence fell. Damien simply stared at her, almost incredulous. Had he gone too soft? Was that why she thought she could stand there and question him like this?

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “I’m more shameless than my brother, if you really want to know,” he said, sliding an arm around my shoulders and leaning closer, his breath hot against my ear. “And I love older women. Younger girls… they don’t have the experience. They don’t know what to do.” He clicked his tongue. “The older ones know exactly what they want.” I pushed him back with a laugh, though I gave him a look. “And I love men older than me,” I said smoothly, meeting his eyes with a knowing smile. “The younger ones have no experience.”

It was a classic romance movie about the love story between an older rich man and a much younger woman. Patricia and I huddled together underneath the covers. We watched our movie, simultaneously munching on food and snacks. When the wine bottle was empty, we opened another. “For an older guy, Richard Gere is pretty good looking,” Patricia sighed dreamily, referring to the actor from the movie. “Of course he is,” I nodded in agreement. “Old guys are way hotter than most people give them credit for.” “Hot?” Patricia snorted a laugh. “Are you saying you’d date a much older guy if you had the chance?”