It was in my late 50s that I began to seriously think about having sex with other older men. You get tired of trying to be who you used to be. You're older, less energetic, fatter, slower to cum, less all-round attractive. So you have to let go of things you used to do and assume. I stopped looking at pictures of young, good-condition bodies and started looking for someone more like myself. The first one who really made an impression on me was aged 73, grey-haired, uncool-looking, hairy chested and overweight. I sent him a polite message and he responded in a friendly, chatty way. He said he could host any weekday, so we arranged for me to go round there one afternoon.
He answered the door wearing standard older-man gear: short sleeved shirt and beige trousers. We had a coffee in his kitchen and talked about various things, but I wasn't really concentrating. I wanted to get this very ordinary old man naked, so I asked if he would show me the house. Upstairs he closed the bedroom door behind him and said, 'So you want to... do some things with me?'
'Yes,' I said, almost breathless. He calmly took his shirt off, unhooked his belt and let his trousers slide to the floor, stepped out of them, the sat on the bed and took off his socks. he looked up at me and nodded for me to do the same, so I did. We took off our underpants simultaneously and lay down on the bed, facing each other. 'What are you thinking?' he asked.
'I'm thinking you're an old man and I'm not much younger, yet I want to have sex with you as much as I've ever wanted it with anyone,' I replied.
