There is Someone for You Out There

There was something special about Miles. He was drawn toward city evenings or pastoral scenes and rainy weather. Everyone else was into sunlight and exercise. He never shared this with anyone because there was no point. He learned to keep his aesthetic and prurient preferences to himself. He had no interest in the type of women that everyone else seemed to prefer.

In a society that practically worshiped fitness, he was attracted to something completely different. He was aroused by chunky older women. The older the better and the bigger they were, the better. Soon he was turning the heads of ordinary looking grannies. They all seemed so different to him and unique. They all enchanted him with their beauty.

Despite being curvy and elderly, these oddly shaped pears had several distinct bodies types. Some were like elves or gypsies and some were elegant and proper madams. He loved any and all kinds of these fabulous creatures. Some were big and tall and powerful. Others were round or fat and still others were naturally fit and petite. He admired all of them in their own memorable way. They were all adorable to him.

He got tongue tied in their presence. He could not understand why he felt such emotions for these misshaped grotesque cougars. The reason was hard to admit to himself. It was simply that he loved to be around someone who had more power and resources then he did. He wanted to feel safe in her presence. In this way, warped as it was, his desires did not stem from some shallow sense of symmetrical beauty.

He was not interested in the looks of his partner. He was interested in everything else. But he was shocked to figure out that it was specifically status that attracted him. Since older woman were more likely to have a developed social standing, he was drawn by instinct to the gray matriarchs. He felt very inappropriate about the whole thing. He felt emasculated because these were attributes a female would most likely look for in her partner not a guy with hot passions.

At first, he was a little shy to approach his divas in public. Soon, however, he found these lonely old madams had more in common with him then he thought. Apparently, rummaging in antiques stores and discovering forlorn bookstores was something many of them were into.

But something kept him back. He was mortified of the social disgrace of chatting with such a plump old lady. He wanted to try and charm a portly and elegant matron in public without reservations. He tried to flirt as if she was a woman his age and not some fat old dame. He wanted to be bold and audacious, like a knight declaring his love for his lady. If the union was appropriate, he was ready to show his silver czarina all the romance and passion he had.

Women always tried to steal a glance at him. But he was so scared of the public reaction. The aged wrinkled beauties looked unabashed at him. He met their eyes and drank in their faces to his enjoyment. The fat old mares had not expected to be caught staring much less caressed with his eyes. He found it erotic to meet their grazes when they looked at him. But when in public, he felt everyone was watching and judging him for his choices.

Miles had to change his thinking. He asked himself what he would do if he was attracted to the typical hot young women around him. He had to pretend the ladies he found attractive were the socially acceptable ones for him. He found this easy to do by imagining that the gnarled and spooky old women he was attracted to were really young women in his age bracket.

Many ladies seemed to be much too immature for him and had uninteresting flat bodies. He loved big legs and hips. When talking to a breathtaking old lady, he imagined that she was actually the young woman he was supposed to be attracted to. Not a sixty or seventy year-old elder but an exercising thirty-year old with a tight body.

When he did talk to someone much older then himself, he was very silly but that seemed okay because the ladies were responding in a similar manner. They were just laughing at anything the other person said shamelessly and uncontrollably.

He told himself it was normal for him to talk to strangers that were older then he was. He was very prone to social stigma but he was able to convince himself that the awed stares he felt on his back were those of jealousy or arousal.

He was soon proud to make eyes with the chunky old senior women that proliferated the downtown. The bodies, faces, hands, and hips of these seniors appeared as perfect to him as if he was looking at the great beauties who had perfect bodies from the point of view of society. In truth, he found that some societies, long ago, worshiped the same shapely visions that he saw.

One day he noticed the effect a very typical old lady was having on him. She looked at him. Their eyes met. There is something eternal about the eyes of two strangers locking onto one another. He could tell by how she froze in her tracks that she liked his looks. He studied her face. He wanted to kiss her. The lines on her face looked so elegant and her neck was covered in necklaces.

Just as their bearing and manners got to him so he was able to illicit a similar response. He wanted to be the man. He didn't care where he was. He just wanted to show off when he was around them without any thought to any thing else.

He was very aroused suddenly, realizing she was calling him pet names before she could stop herself. Her fat little cheeks blushed but he reassured her that he would be kissing her if they were alone right now and that he felt the same way.

He began to step up to his wrinkly diva like he wanted to. He was quite close physically when he chatted, inside a perfect stranger's private zone. He did it because in public he saw her as an approved mate for his younger self. He hoped that she would even share his obsession with power and be attracted to him for his submissive self just so he could be with her.

He began to behave appropriately for his feelings and felt no social awkwardness flirting with the lonely seniors. Sometimes, he found that a sweet plump granny did not even look up when walking by him not expecting anyone to notice her insignificant presence.

This was, of course, no longer a barrier of any sort. In addition, when the May-December flirting did start, it never really occurred to the excited portly biddy that he might be sexually interested in her. Even if he told her, she would not understand why someone like him would be courting a sad hag like her. She would not believe he would be ecstatic if she came home with him and let him massage her hand or foot or anything else she wanted.

So when he did get their attention and made them feel relaxed, the change was remarkable. They enjoyed his attentions and returned his enthusiasm. How friendly they became! And they loved to flirt since it never occurred to them someone like this might be interested in them. They were so thrilled about a good-looking guy engaging them. He looked at their gorgeous faces as they talked and the older women really seemed to enjoy that.

For the most part, the gray dryad flirted back shamelessly with Miles. He never failed to get sexually aroused by the situation. These lush and lovely elder-mothers were throwing themselves at him without knowing him as if he was the pretty young lady and they were the rich and powerful men.

He wished he could tell them all how he felt about them. He wanted to tell them how these alluring and mysterious mistresses made him totally sexually aware of himself. He wanted to tell them that women become more beautiful with time.