I certainly didn’t expect to be writing this letter, but I can’t keep what happened to me on New Year’s Eve to myself any longer.

I’m a 65-year-old married lady, and I led quite an adventurous sex life when I was younger. It wasn’t until I turned 50 and got remarried that I decided I’d better cool things down and start acting like an adult. Things have gone well for my husband Keith and I, too, considering my sordid past. Being 15 years my junior, Keith is still young enough to give me a good, sound fucking several times a week, keeping me very happy. I’ve never felt the need to look elsewhere for sex like I did with my first husband.

We recently had a divorced man in his late 30s move next door to us, and whenever Keith wasn’t around, the man, Nathan, flirted with me shamelessly. He was friendly and a really nice... Read More