The Elusive Silver Fox

A few months ago I was hunted, pounced, and made to do the bidding of a very sexual woman. The kicker? She is 62. I’m 28. There could not be a better example of a silver fox than this woman. With her short, vivacious silver hair, beautiful tan skin, petite little body with nice curves in the right places…I knew I was in trouble. She stands just over five feet tall, but her small stature is no indication of her hunger for suitable young prey.

We met in an organic grocery store in Dallas, TX. I was looking at fruit and she was a few feet down from me in the same section. When I saw her I did a double-take, and my first thought was that she was a gorgeous 40-something with a nice round ass. She caught my stare and immediately said “you like it?” Dumbfounded, I stuttered “um, excuse me?” “My butt,” she answered. “Do you like it? I’ve been working on it in the gym.” She smiled and my heart almost fell out my chest. “It’s amazing,” I said in voice that sounded full of pubescent awkwardness. She extended a hand and introduced herself as Cindy, and then suggested we shop together so she could learn what a hard-bodied young man like me eats to stay fit. Needless to say it was the best shopping experience of my life – the innuendos were flying and numbers were exchanged.

My phone rang around 9pm that night and it was Cindy asking if I wanted to go for a drink. I was quite impressed by her brazen disregard for the “3-day rule” of calling a potential lay; it was obvious she knew what she wanted. We agreed to meet at a local sports bar for a couple of beers.

I arrived at the bar first, and a few minutes later she walked in wearing a tight shirt that accentuated her cleavage and a well-fitting pair of jeans. She sat close to me as we dranked, talked, and laughed together. Then she hit me with the bombshell by asking how old I thought she was. I told her she was hot and it didn’t matter, but she insisted that I guess. Normally when an older woman asks me this I try to aim low, but I was being honest with Cindy and said that I figured she was 42. At this, she laughed with delight and then kissed me. Seeing the puzzled look on my face, she whispered in my ear “you are a couple of decades off.” Finding out that she was 62 really made her that much sexier. It takes a pretty special woman to be a bona fide grandmother and a total knockout all at once.

Needless to say we made some sweet music in her silver fox-hole that night, and every month or so I’ll get the phone call and know it’s time for more.