Tyrell stood at the edge of the bustling bar, his eyes scanning the room like a predator assessing its prey. The dim lights cast long shadows over the dance floor, where young bodies moved in sync with the pulsating beats. He adjusted his tie, feeling the silk smooth against his fingers, and took a deep breath. This was it—his first night out since the divorce papers were finalized. At fifty-five, he felt every bit of his age tonight, but he refused to let it show.

He spotted her almost immediately—a tall brunette with curves that could stop traffic. She leaned against the bar, her body half-turned away from him as she sipped on a neon-colored drink. Her posture was casual, yet there was something predatory about the way she held herself, like a lioness surveying her territory. Tyrell felt a stir of excitement deep within him. He hadn't been with someone new in so long; the thrill of the hunt was intoxicating.

"Excuse me," he said, stepping up to her side. "Mind if I buy you a drink?"

She turned to face him, her eyes raking over him with a scrutinizing gaze. There was no smile, no immediate warmth, just a cool, calculating assessment. "Depends," she replied, her voice husky and low. "What kind of drink are we talking about?"

Tyrell chuckled, a sound that resonated deep in his chest. "I was thinking something stronger than what you're having now."

She finally smiled, a slow curve of her lips that sent a shiver down his spine. "I like strong," she said, pushing off the bar and standing closer to him. "And old," she added with a wink.

He laughed again, more genuine this time. "Old, huh? Well, I suppose that makes two of us."

She laughed too, a throaty sound that made him think of nights spent tangled in sheets, skin slick with sweat. "Maybe," she said, "but you don't look a day over forty."

Tyrell raised an eyebrow, impressed by her flattery. "Flatterer," he murmured, catching the bartender's eye. "Two shots of tequila, please."

The bartender nodded and set to work, pulling two shot glasses from under the counter and filling them with clear liquid. Tyrell handed one to her, clinking their glasses together before tossing it back. The burn of the alcohol slid down his throat, igniting a fire in his belly that matched the heat in his blood.

"So," she said, setting her empty glass down with a decisive click, "where do we go from here?"

Tyrell looked at her, his gaze steady. "Your place or mine?"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Yours. I like a man who takes charge."

He grinned, feeling a rush of adrenaline. "Good choice."

They left the bar together, moving through the crowd as if they owned the place. The cool night air hit them as they stepped outside, and Tyrell felt the tension in his muscles ease slightly. He led her to his car, opening the passenger door for her with a flourish before rounding the hood to slide into the driver's seat.

The drive to his apartment was short, but the silence between them was charged with unspoken promises. When they arrived, Tyrell unlocked the door and ushered her inside, shutting it behind them with a firm click. The lights were off, the only illumination coming from the streetlights filtering through the curtains. It cast everything in a soft, seductive glow.

She stood just inside the doorway, her eyes dark and hungry. "Show me what you've got, old man," she challenged, her voice dripping with anticipation.

Tyrell felt a surge of confidence. He stepped closer, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. "Oh, I'll show you," he promised, his voice low and intimate. "Just give me a moment."

His lips descended on hers, gentle at first, then harder as her response was immediate and eager. He kissed her like he hadn't kissed anyone in decades, like he had all the time in the world to explore every inch of her mouth. His hands roamed down her sides, brushing over the curve of her hips and gripping them tightly as their tongues danced together.

She moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. The sound went straight to his cock, hardening it instantly. He broke the kiss, gasping for breath as he looked down at her. Her eyes were half-lidded, her cheeks flushed with desire.

"Do you have protection?" she asked, her voice breathless.

Tyrell hesitated. It had been years since he'd needed to worry about such things, and the thought of going unprotected terrified him. But he couldn't let her see that fear. Not now, not when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

"It's been a while," he admitted, his voice rough. "But I'm clean. Are you?"

She smirked, a wicked glint in her eye. "Absolutely."

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears. "Then let's make this unforgettable."

Without waiting for a response, he picked her up, cradling her against his chest as he carried her towards the bedroom. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her hands clutching his shoulders as she buried her face in his neck. The sensation of her skin against his was electric, sending jolts of pleasure through his veins.

He laid her down on the bed, following her down as he covered her body with his own. Their mouths met again, hot and desperate, as his hands began to explore her curves with renewed fervor. He felt her moaning beneath him, her hips arching upwards as he palmed her breasts, teasing her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress.

She tore her mouth away from his, gasping for breath as she whispered, "Fuck me, Tyrell. Fuck me like you mean it."

The words were a challenge, a dare that he couldn't resist. He pulled back, staring down at her with a mixture of hunger and determination. "Are you sure?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"More than sure," she breathed, her eyes locked onto his. "Just do it."

His erection strained against his pants, aching for release. With trembling hands, he reached for the zipper of her dress, pulling it down slowly, revealing the lace bra that barely contained her generous breasts. He groaned, his fingers fumbling as he tried to undo the clasp, desperate to feel her bare skin against his.

Finally, the bra fell away, exposing her full, heavy tits. He groaned again, his mouth watering as he bent down to capture one hard nipple between his teeth. She cried out, her nails digging into his back as he suckled on her, the taste of her driving him wild.

His hand traveled lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her panties to find her drenched pussy. He slipped a finger inside, reveling in the tight, wet grip of her body. She bucked against his hand, urging him on with incoherent cries of pleasure.

"Tyrell, please," she begged, her voice thick with need. "I need you inside me. Now."

He moved quickly, stripping off his clothes with jerky motions until he was as naked as she was. His cock throbbed with anticipation, straining towards her as he positioned himself between her thighs. She opened herself to him, her legs spread wide as she locked her ankles behind his back.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"God, yes," she whispered, her eyes never leaving his.