Power and Control

Power.

Control.

I love to exercise these two. It is a delicious experience to employ this gift that God gave me. I am a very attractive woman, with a mature figure and a waistline women 20 years younger would die for. Men flock around me everywhere. My bosses when I was employed, elders of the church, yeah even ordained ministers have salivated for me. To watch these otherwise influential men becoming boys in their lust for me is deliriously enjoyable.

I have been foolish enough once or twice to yield to the power men exude, thinking that they mean what they say. "I love you, Alice!" I have been called any number of names, including "Queen." They are so transparent, these men, in that all they want is to get past my panty.

As I got older, I learnt not to repelled by the shallow tricks men of all ages, tribes, social classes, or position in church, play to try to lure me. Instead I keep them interested with my wide smile, accommodating attitude so that they continue believing that they have favour in my sight. Sometimes I want to laugh when I watch the desperate measures some of them will employ to curry that favour.

My music teacher is as humble a human being as they come. But I have watched him when the blood had run down to his pubic regions, leaving little for his brain. He has tried all the tricks he knows to impress me. I never rebuke him, however, or push him away. He always goes away believing he was nearly getting me. I have even allowed him to touch me in ways that left him with a giant hardon. One day I visited him while his wife and children were away. I let him touch me, take my large breasts out of the confines of the bra, even to put his hand between my legs and play with my cunt. My juices ran like mad, but I would not let him fuck me. Overall, his methods are very amateur compared to those of men of higher class that I have had hunkering after my thighs.

Don't be shocked by my language, dear reader, for that is all that men are after. A fuck. No matter how sweet the language they employ. No matter how much money they are prepared to spend on a woman. It is only seen as an investment whose returns are getting me into bed with them. And that includes the music teacher and the tall man in whose house we have our choir practice sessions. He too, is very keen to overcome my underwear! Fortunately I am now much wiser, because I am older and more experienced. Had I been more green at this seduction game, Kim would surely have confused my head.

I have never met a man who lied so smoothly. Yet his lies seem to touch something deep down in my soul. His approach is to tell me that my sexual needs are uppermost in his mind. He will only derive his satisfaction from having satisfied me. Several times I have listened to him expound his theory and I swear he touches me to the core, causing tears to well up in my eyes. "If only this were really true!" I would think over and over, until I am lying next to my hubby in bed, wishing the world as an easy place to understand! I would really love to test-drive Kim's ideas to see if they are realistic. But every time I shrink back. "All men are the same, like they were born of the same woman!" I end up telling myself firmly.

All the same he has sequestered that germ of an idea into my head that has made me curious for the first time since I became a mature woman. I waver in my opinions over him constantly. Should I try him out only to find he has reached his Everest when I peeled my panty down for him? Maybe he is sincere in what he says. Maybe he really is different from all other men born of woman.

Or will I, by keeping him at bay, lose forever the chance to mean something to a man, to be loved truly, appreciated for the whole person, and made a truly fulfilled woman? Am I being foolish in holding back for reasons that have worked well before, but do not apply to this special guy fate has brought into my orbit?

Gosh, I am such a mixed-up mess of nerves right now! Good people, please advise me what to do in the comments section below.