Old Habits and New Tricks

I'm fifty-four now, but you'd never guess from the way I just got laid last night. It's funny how time doesn't matter when it comes to sex, or at least not in my world. She was a student once, though that’s ancient history now, years ago and oceans away from this present moment. But we’ve always shared an unspoken understanding; the past can stay buried unless it serves us both right here, right now. We didn't talk much about our ages, her name is Sarah, in her early thirties. She's sharp and direct, no nonsense. We met up at my place for the first time this week, I don’t often indulge like that anymore, but something just clicked between us after class one day. Anyway, so we’re there, getting it on with every bit of our bodies pressed against each other. Her skin is soft yet firm under mine as I guide her down to my bed. Kissing becomes frantic, lips and tongues entangled like lovers starved for connection. I grip her hips hard; her thighs clench around me as she straddles my lap, riding me in a rhythm that’s wild but controlled. Sweat beads up on our skin from the exertion. She slides down slowly, breasts grazing mine with each movement, it's pure sensory overload. She starts whispering my name over and over between breaths, almost like a prayer. Her nails dig into my back as she rides harder, seeking that release I can feel building in both of us. Finally, we come together in a mess of moans and slick skin. That moment, it's just me and her, no one else. Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’m still doing here, alone for so long. But then moments like this happen, and suddenly being alone doesn’t feel quite as bad. Maybe old dogs can learn new tricks after all.