What I want to tell started at a completely average Tuesday in the late summer of 2001. Every day on my way to work and back I came along a sidewalk in a little village. In a little house in this street there lived an old man, about in his mid-60s, yet still quite attractive. Every morning and every evening he waved friendly when I passed his house and garden. On this sunny late summer day he was wearing nothing more than a pair of trunks. I imagined with a certain tingling in my pussy - which was rubbing on that hard bicycle saddle - how it would be to get to know this man more closer. I am regularly reading porn magazines because those stories and pictures get me really turned on. I decided to let him see some of my favourite magazines to test his reaction. With seven mags in my bag I started cycling all the way to him.

It was already dark outside. So I managed to place the magazines right before his door without getting caught. As I came along the next day the kinky glossy magazines were gone. I imagined how the old man would get hot while watching them. In the evening when I came home I slipped into my leisure suit and drove into his village on my bike. In front of his little garden I stopped as I noticed him. He recognized me and waved. I waved back and moved towards his garden. I crossed the street and stood in front of him, slightly excited. He was wearing shorts and a simple T-Shirt.

After having some small talk with him that mature gentleman asked me to sit down on his terace and offered me a drink. I just couldn´t keep my eyes from his still well-shaped body. His silver grey hair was cut short, he had wide shoulders and a flat belly. What I could see under his shorts was quite promising.