Older Woman With Younger Guys Novels & Stories

“Have you met that old man yet?” Summer figured the old lady must be talking about Gordon, and so she nodded. But the old lady surprised her next with an awkward question. “Between me and that old man—who looks younger?” Summer looked at the old lady for a while and then hemmed. “Grandpa looks a tad younger.” She was speaking the truth. Gordon’s hair was darker, which made him look younger. But overall appearance wise, they were more or less the same age. “He always secretly dyes his hair. In fact, he is three years younger than me. You have got a keen eye, Mrs. Valentine,” the old lady said.

I am busy setting up the dining room for yet another visit when the old woman appears in the doorway. “Why aren’t you done yet?! You have to get dressed! Our guests will be here any minute and I want you in front of the cue today.” She glares at me and I just nod. Over the past four years, other young females were also sent to the omega house. Some of the ones that were in line before me had found their mates, and the ever-turning mill of young women kept moving. There are three females in line before me, but the old woman believes they are too old to find mates, so this is my one and only chance.

“It’ll get pretty rowdy if they’re here and some of the guys bring old ladies.” “So?” I say. “The guys fuck the whores when the old ladies aren’t around. The two groups don’t mix.” I stop shredding lettuce and give my full attention to Red. “The guys with old ladies fuck the whores?” I ask baffled. “When the old ladies aren’t around, which with Fox was most of the time.” “That’s fucked up. Those bald twats screw around on their old ladies?” “It’s the way it is, Sofia.” “Not anymore. You let the ladies know if they put their hands on my man, I’ll break their fingers. Unattached men only or their puta asses will feel my boot.”

As eyes caught movement down the row. An old woman, maybe sixty, frail and hunched, with sagging breasts and a body that looked like it had been used up years ago. She was trying to reach a nozzle at the edge, Three younger women... who were surprisingly clothed in scraps... immediately blocked her path. One shoved her shoulder hard. “Move it, crone,” the leader snarled. “You’ve dropped enough weak litters. This spot’s for those who still produce.” The old woman stumbled, nearly falling. Laughter came from the group. One of them kicked a bucket of soapy water toward her feet splashing her legs.

But I’ll have to keep aside that argument for another time, right now, I need to know why Lucas was trusting me with the location of so many vulnerable humans. “Vandal Rudolf, did you say?” I whipped around in the direction of the voice and was surprised to find an old woman walking through the crowd towards us. Her body was bent forward from the waist up and she used a cane to support herself. She was so old she looked ancient; he body was covered in wrinkles and she seems to have lost almost all her teeth. Her voice held a tremor of age and her hair was completely white against pale, almost ashen skin. A young girl of about eleven or twelve with wildly curled black hair and deep brown eyes

Williams asked, interrupting her reverie. “Oh I was just thinking, all these guys are so old, but they have great moves!” “Si, so you like older men?” “I like any man if he’s a good dancer,” she flirted. “How about that guy?” Williams gestured to a much older man, probably in his late 60s, working some amazing Samba steps in the back of the club. “Oh yeah,” Oliver nodded. “He’s amazing!” Mesmerized by his motions, and not feeling much from whatever it was she was drinking, she let Williams maneuver her further towards the back of the club.

During lunch, an older female colleague asked me, "How old are you? Do you have a boyfriend? When are you planning to get married?" I shook my head. "Twenty-seven, no boyfriend, and no plans to get married." She was momentarily stunned. "What are you talking about? How can a woman not marry?" she asked. I smiled without responding. Realizing I wasn't joking, her expression darkened. "Did you work as a escort and get caught? Is that why no man wants you?"

the old woman exclaimed to me with a soft smile. I shook her head and waved my hands dismissively. "No, no, Granny! You're actually the best! You even seem younger than I am," I joked, and we both erupted in laughter again. "I know... I know I look youthful!" the elderly woman said amidst her laughter. "So, you didn't say... are you married? I was shocked by the invasive question, "No." I simply said after a moment. I saw her nod her head while smiling. "Give me your phone number," she said, passing me her phone.

"Yeah, I would. Older guys are better." "Why is that?" "They're more mature, usually. More experienced. Probably out of the playing-video-games-all-day phase, which is really fucking annoying. Older men give younger women a sense of security, I think. Like they can take care of us in every way. Physically, emotionally, financially. I think all women secretly want to be treated like spoiled little girls."

“Let me go! Let me see her!” The old woman's voice rang out desperately, but the men ignored her, dragging her from the pavement not minding her frail, old figure. Piper’s instincts kicked in. She hurried forward, her voice cutting through the commotion. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? That’s an elderly woman you’re manhandling!” The two men barely glanced her way. Their grip on the old woman tightened as she kicked weakly against them. She was shouting something while struggling to stay on her feet.