About a boy…

I’ve always been partial to a silver fox. It started  with a mega crush on my history teacher & never stopped. I have almost always dated older men. I almost always fancy older men. It comes as a great surprise to me discover that actually, I’m not entirely against a tryst with a younger men either. Which brings me to the advent of the toy boy & surprises therein. 

The first shock was testicles. Let me tell you that the balls of a 30yr old are very different to those of a 50yr old. Perhaps this is common knowledge. I was not aware. My eyes are now open. 

Sometimes a younger guy doesn’t get your cultural references at all. This makes you feel 90 years old. 

But on the flip slide you sometimes get a tiny bit smug & superior when they don’t know who Charles Manson is. 

Takes direction. Very well. 

A toy boy is slightly more willing to accept that I am always right. I like this. 

Peachy peachy bum. 

The youngster makes it past 11pm without becoming unconscious.

Takes charge equally well. Ego is comfortable with both. 

Silliness. There is a pleasing amount of nonsense. 

Oh, did I mention the arse?


Maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks. Who knew?

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