My last two lovers were half my age. Now I’m totally obsessed with a gorgeous fella aged 22 who works in a local phone shop.
I keep finding excuses to go in there and ask him stupid questions about new tariffs and handsets.
He and I flirt and I make crass jokes about how much I love “bundles” and “upgrades”. I stick my boobs out and I can tell that I turn him on.
I’ve already suggested we go for a drink and I know that it will only be a matter of days before I get him into my bed. I can’t wait.
The only problem is that my teenage daughters, who are 15 and 17, are telling me that I’m disgusting.
Since I split from their dad, they’ve gone from rolling their eyes and calling me a man-eater to screaming that I’m a sleazy old bag.
The other night the two of them said they wanted a word. They roped in my annoying mother too.
I had to sit there while the three of them ripped my head off. They told me that they disapprove of me bringing boys back from nightclubs, that I should know better about sex with strangers and that I’m a disgrace. Apparently I embarrass them.
My eldest girl was particularly angry that I recently had a dirty weekend, at home with a boy who used to be her prefect in school. What’s her problem? He was over 18 and perfectly willing.
The bottom line is that I’m not prepared to hang up my G-string and stilettos for anyone.
The day I start knitting and watching telly is the day I die. I’m not even 40 yet. I’m 39, and believe that life is for living. How do I get everyone to understand that I’m only human and have my own needs too? So what if toyboys are my thing?
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