Thursday, February 2, 2012

I'm a policeman's plaything

It's official. After our third encounter since last fall, I am servicing one of Montreal's finest. And fine he is, of course.
   But first, more about me. I am indeed bragging. After a long, illustrious but mostly notorious sex career spanning four full decades, at the ripe, ripe old age of 56 this is the feather in my cap. Sure, my face is still good, I'm told, and I know my ass has finally come into its own after being non-existent during my skinny youth, but the rest -- belly, man boobs, well...
   So the cop is in his late forties, completely hairless, nippled and cut. Big. A good inch or two taller than me, and not too slim in the belly himself. Kinda beat-up looking, in the Donnie Wahlberg way. I think he's stunning. Oh, and blue eyes. :-) I am his sex slave. This is the first time in that role. I used to let men worship me. So this is different. And fun. To service and subject.
   He's rough and I take it. He releases all his cop tension sexually through me. I want to please my cop. I love that intenseness in his body. For the first time in my life I just want to give pleasure with nothing reciprocated. It's all about my cop. After he comes, it's all over, as though sex never happened. What they say about typical man.
   And at the beginning, before he gets really heated up, he's sweet and gentle. Affectionate, even. I love that part too. We've agreed we don't want anything else. Just sex. But he's fond of me. And I'm flattered as hell that at this age a big, hot cop in his 40s wants me!
   Ah, life. Full of surprises!

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