PREFACE: It was well over two years since my divorce. It was over three years since I’d been fucked, and it was over four years since I’d been fucked willingly. I was in need of cock. I'd been getting sex from my girlfriends. Now I needed a male. But, and it was a huge but, I had to be in control. Control of every second, of every movement. I knew that was the only way I’d overcome my ‘man phobia.’ John presented the idea...

So ended my initial seduction. Should I call it that? What else can I? I’d planned it to see if my man phobia was age-related. Well, it looked as though it might be. Even though I hadn’t fucked John (yet) or even given him a blow job (yet), I’d felt none of the panic attack symptoms that usually stalk me in the presence of men, especially when alone with men. I hoped, at our next meeting (can’t call it a date), I might ge...