For a long time, I denied the fact that I was getting older, but when I became old, my age no longer could be concealed. I'm sixty-eight, fit for my age, and with the mindset of a twenty year old. By that I mean, I see things like a younger man. The body wilts, but not the mind.

After my wife died several years ago, I looked for female companionship. I am wealthy, vulnerable and willing, so I met a few gold diggers who became very friendly when learning I was a widower. I didn't mind the attention, or their accommodating nature. I dated a few who made no secret of their availability in bed. The best thing about them is they were experienced, and knew how to please a man.

The bad was some are greedy, middle age women with marriage on their mind. I wasn't interested. So, it occurred to me that seeking younger women who didn't know me would work better. However, the pool of younger women seeking older men is limited.

In the beginning, I visited Harland's Strip Club for entertainment. I had been collecting ten dollar bills for many years that were intended for emergencies. They were never used, so I had a thick stack of bills in the desk drawer. I found a good use for them by folding tenners in the dancers' g-strings. I was very generous.

One of the dancers visited my table on a slow night for Harland's. "Hello, Mr. Hamilton, my name is Juanita." she said with a slight foreign accent. "Do you mind if I join you?" 

Juanita was my favorite dancer. She had piercing dark eyes, long black hair, tanned skin, brown nipples and stood only five feet four. However, on stage wearing hooker heals and doing her pole dance, she looked six feet tall.

"Certainly. Have a seat, but why did you call me Mr. Hamilton? My name is Tom Bradley."

"Well, Mr. Bradley, the reason I came over here is that the girls and I want to thank you for your support. You always give us bills with Hamilton's picture, so we call you Mr. Hamilton."

"I see. You deserve it." I answered. Our conversation was short and to the point.

Occasionally when I visited the club on other nights, Juanita came over to talk for a few minutes. One night she said, "Tom, you come here a lot. I look forward to talking with you, but I have to ask you a question. Why haven't you hit on me like the other men? Don't you date younger women?"

"I would do it in a heartbeat if I thought there was someone willing."

"Look, Tom, lots of girls like older men. I'm one of them. I'd love to spend some quality time with you. How about this? My last routine is at midnight. We can go out for coffee or an early breakfast after that."

"How old are you Juanita?"

"Twenty-three."

"Twenty-three, and you won't mind going out with a man several times your age?"

"Of course not. What's the big deal?"

"Okay," I said. "We're on."

We found an all night diner about a mile from Harland's Strip Club and talked until sunrise.

Juanita was from Panama. She came to the United States with her parents at the age of eleven. She wanted to be a professional dancer and was earning money at the club to pay for dance lessons.

"How much for the lessons?" I asked.

"It's around thirteen hundred dollars per month."

"That's a lot of tips at the club."

"Yes, Mr. Bradley, but I'm slowly getting there. I have a lot of your Hamiltons," she said with a smile.

"Call me Tom."

"Okay, Tom."

"So, Juanita, tell me about dating in Panama. Is it common for young women like you to date older men."

"Not common, but it frequently happens with no social stigma. Women think it is more important to be with a good man."

"Do you think I'm a good man?"

"I think so. Any woman in Panama would take you as their lover."

"Do you think maybe we could, well you know, be together?"

"You mean make love? Why not?" she said nonchalantly.

"Do you dance tomorrow night?" I asked in a serious tone of voice.

"Are you asking me for a date, Tom?"

"If you would like."

"Yes, I would like that very much."

We went to dinner at a restaurant that had Panamanian food. Juanita introduced me to several of their more popular dishes. They were all good but some were an acquired taste. We went back to my home. She stayed the night. It was the first sex I had with a woman since my wife got sick three years before.

Juanita was wonderful. She was attentive with youthful exuberance. The girl kept me up all night. I am too old for all-nighters. I need my sleep, and I told her so.

"Juanita, you are so beautiful and great in the sack. The truth is, I'm too old for you no matter what Panamanians think. You need a younger man, someone closer to your age."

I pealed off fifty Hamiltons and said, "Get those dance lessons now. I want to see you on stage, just not at Harlands."

She thanked me and gave me the sweetest kiss. I never returned to the Strip Club. It was too difficult to see drunks drooling over her naked body and shouting lewd things at her. The whole experience bolstered my confidence leading me to the website, The site is for girls seeking a sugar daddy.

I browsed the site for a few weeks. My timing was good. Dozens of girls were looking for a Sugar Daddy to get them out of student debt or pay for tuition. The first hurtle was the generation gap. Several girls exchanged e-mails with me. I soon learned they were immature, and couldn't even tell you in which country Tokyo is located. It's not about geography for me, but it would be nice if they were a little more worldly.

One girl on the site caught my eye. She had posted her picture standing on campus holding a sign saying, "I could Use a Sugar Daddy for law school." I am a retired lawyer having sold my law practice to my partner a year earlier. The connection was immediate. The girl's name was Cheryl, and we met at Starbucks. She said I was a little older than she expected but because I was a lawyer, she was willing to be my Sugar Baby.

I put my hand on her upper thigh just to see Cheryl's reaction. She didn't squirm or pull away. She was going to be okay.

I asked her to dinner the following night. We went to a chain restaurant, nothing fancy, and talked about her career ambitions. She had seen the movie, "Legally Blond" and decided law school was for her. It was just that she had no money. That's why she decided on the Sugar Daddy idea.

Cheryl was quite open about it. She understood it came with expectations. She had a boyfriend and was on birth control, so sex wasn't an issue. She needed the tuition money more than getting laid by her boyfriend. I told her I could help.

I brought Cheryl to a motel the next night. She was indeed willing but inexperienced. Cheryl only knew the missionary position. I urged her to try a few others. She had small breasts but the tightest ass and pussy to match. I fucked her until three in the morning and came twice. For an old man, that's pretty damn good.

"So Tom," she said. "Are you going to help me with the tuition?"

"No Cheryl, you can get any guy to do that for you. Here is what I can do. While you are in law school, I will set you up as an intern at my old law firm, just like Reese Witherspoon in the movie. If you play your cards right, my partner, George, will help you with the tuition.

Before leaving Cheryl asked, "Do you think what I'm doing is wrong, Tom?"

"I don't see why, Cheryl. See you in court," and I waved goodbye.

My next "date" was with a twenty year old. Her name was Nora. The most impressive thing about Nora was she was honest. Nora had written she was a mother of a two year old, the result of an unplanned pregnancy. Her boyfriend at the time refused to wear condoms, and she wasn't on birth control. He promised to pull out. One time he didn't.

We met at a cafe in town. Nora wasn't beautiful like in the movies, but she was very pretty. We had a pleasant conversation. She said I reminded her of her grandfather.

"I just loved my grandfather to death," she said. "He was so kind and sweet. I would sit on his lap and listen to him sing the old songs. My favorite was, 'Just In Time." It was like he was saying to me, 'I found you just in time'. Do you know that song?"

"Yes I do. I have Frank Sinatra's recording. Do you know who Frank Sinatra is?

"Of course. Grandpa had all of Sinatra's records."

The two of us chatted for an hour before she said, "I know how this works, Tom. A girl like me dates an older man in exchange for something.

Mostly it's financial and sexual. Is that right?

I said, "It could be."

"Is that what you want, sex? she asked.

"Is that what you need, money?

"Yes, I need to have help paying for my apartment. I have a minimum wage job but that doesn't pay for Jason's daycare."

"Look, Nora, you are a really nice girl. I don't want to put you in an awkward position, but I am looking for companionship."

"Tom, it's not awkward. I've thought this over, and would love to spend some quality time with you."

"I see. By quality time you mean spending the night together?"

"Yes. To be blunt about it, and so there is no misunderstanding, I mean fucking each other."

"How much do you need?"

"I owe over a thousand on my credit card. Is that too much?"

"We'll see. When can we get together?"

"Tomorrow night? Is that too early? My mom can take Jason."

"Does your mom know what you are doing?"

"Of course. She had me at sixteen, and has struggled as a single mom like me. She understands. She's okay with it."

"So, tomorrow night will be fine. I'll take you to dinner, then we'll check out my place in the suburbs. I'll need your address and pick you up at seven."

Dinner reservations were for seven thirty. We shared a bottle of Chardonnay ordering surf and turf. The conversation was polite and generic. We left for home at nine. At nine thirty I put on a Sinatra CD, and we both were naked in bed shortly after.

Our first few minutes were spent getting acquainted with each other's bodies. Nora was adept at oral play. I spent some obligatory time between her legs. It was time for some serious fucking.

Just as I first penetrated that youthful pussy, she whispered, "Are you wearing a condom?"

"I don't wear condoms, Nora."

She reached over to her purse and said, "I can't afford to get pregnant again, Tom. Use this."

Then she rolled it on my pulsating cock. "Okay, now we're ready."

I banged into her fast and furiously for what seemed to be forever. My buddy in the air force used to call it, "balls to the wall." That pretty much summed it up.

Eventually Nora asked, "Can't you cum, Tom?"

"I can't do it with this damn thing covering my prick."

"Okay, let's see if you can cum in my mouth."

Nora slipped the offending sheath off my cock, and mouth fucked me for only a few minutes before I erupted.

She swallowed every drop and asked meekly, "How was that, Tom?"

"Wonderful Nora."

I fell asleep almost immediately. In the morning, I had better luck filling a condom, then she was off to work. We met several more times. On one occasion, she introduced me to her son, Jason, who loved my attention. He even called me grandpa.

While I was getting serviced by accommodating Nora, she was emptying my wallet. Eventually, I called it quits. I didn't want to be Jason's grandfather, and Nora needed to get on with her life.

The next Sugar Baby was, Page, a journalism student who claimed to be writing a series of columns in the college newspaper on Sugar Daddies. I was to be featured in her third article.

Page wasn't shy about saying the idea occurred to her when her student debt got out of control. She owed nearly ten thousand dollars. She was desperate to get funding to finish college. Everything fell into place with the newspaper articles.

I liked Page. She was well read, had a sense of humor, and had a nice mature body for a twenty-one year old. The word 'mature' mainly refers to her bountiful breasts. They hung off of her chest like ripe melons. She used them well to massage my stiff baton.

Unlike Nora, Page was on birth control, so I could maximize my pleasure erupting inside her slippery pussy in a timely manner. I gave her the whole nine yards the first time. Page complimented me on being able to perform at such an advanced age.

"Do you take Viagra, Tom?" she asked. "The other men I've met use it."

"No, I prefer using something natural. I use yarsagumba. The Chinese have used it for centuries. As you can tell, it works quite well."

"Hey, that's great. I'm going to use that in my next column."

I performed with her early and often over the next few weeks, that is, until she was ready to write her next column. She relieved me of two grand. I called it my Social Security Benefits. I enjoyed helping her further her career. Anyway, becoming her benefactor was the right thing to do. She was a talented girl both as a writer and in the bedroom.

Doreen was a quick study. She knew my needs without much conversation. We met at my house after exchanging two e-mails. Doreen said she needed a quick thousand, and was willing to work for it. The agreement was for four house calls. The arrangement seemed a little strange, but I was horny and she was available. So we soon got together. I gave her a down payment of half at our first meeting. I never saw her again.

I read in the comments section of the website that Doreen was a whore, not a Sugar Baby. I wasn't surprised except to find out she was also on heroin.

I can say this for Doreen, she was good, very good at her trade. Deep throat was her specialty. She introduced me to anal. It was my first time fucking an ass. Okay, she ripped me off, but it was worth the five hundred. I only didn't like contributing to her drug habit.

I was learning that companionship was more than having sex. The whole experience was fun; it just wasn't emotionally satisfying. It wasn't romance. I needed a real relationship, a lasting partnership.

In time and with a great deal of luck, good things can happen. It happened to me.

I think it is on one of Sinatra's songs where he sings, "Someone drops a sigh and down you tumble." That's pretty much how this happened.

One day while watering my plants at our Village community garden, I watched as a young woman tended her tomato crop. She was so careful to give each plant tender loving care. It was if they were her children, but the vines had very little fruit. She caught me staring, and came over to my garden.

"Hello, I'm Stephanie. I see you here quite often. You have a beautiful garden. I wish I could grow tomatoes like yours."

"Hi. I'm Tom. When you've been gardening as long as I have, you'll have great tomatoes too."

"What's the secret?" she asked.

"Oh Stephanie, I'd have to kill you if I told you."

At first she was stunned, then caught on and laughed. "So you don't give away your secrets."

"Only to really close friends."

"Okay, then I have my work cut out for me. How if we start by you coming over for dinner some night?" and she touched me gently on the arm.

I can't tell you the power of that touch. There was a certain electricity that surged through my body. It was a warm and compassionate current flowing from head to toe. I felt thirty years younger. It was a feeling that had been missing for years.

"Wow, I never turn down a free meal. How about Thursday? I'm free on Thursday."

"Then Thursday it is," Stephanie respond with a delicate smile.

We exchanged phone numbers to set up the time.

At dinner, I learned she was a fifth grade teacher, thirty-eight years old, divorced, and loved the same movies as I. Stephanie was a great listener and interested in what I had to say. Our conversations hit a high note with me. In addition, she was extremely affectionate. She wasn't afraid to touch and be touched.

Her father left her with a small fortune when he died. Stephanie said she didn't really have to work, but loved the kids.

She couldn't explain it, but "I became attracted to older men after my father passed, That makes it special that you came for dinner. You're a great gardener and a nice looking man, Tom."

I said, "That's refreshing. If I had a dollar for every girl that found me unattractive, they'd eventually find me attractive."

Stephanie laughed long and hard about that. "You're a funny guy, Tom. I just love your sense of humor. I feel so comfortable with you here."

It was obvious that I felt the same. We got along very well from the start. It took awhile before we had sex. When we finally consummated our relationship, she was passionate and caring. We were a good fit.

Six weeks after meeting in the garden, Stephanie and I were married in a private ceremony. Now I know sex without love is like a cake without frosting.