He didn't get upset when I as near as dammit called him an old fogey, he smiled and countered my words. He didn't demolish my arguments he just got me to view music in a slightly different way. When he talked about what music meant to him I felt ashamed of myself. He was describing how I felt about music when I was in my teens. Somewhere along the way, I had lost that ideal. Could I ever get it back? As we talked, I got this impression of a genuine, self-contained man. A guy who would accept people for what they were and find interest in their ideas and ambitions. He didn't have to throw his weight around or brag of his success to impress people, in fact I believed that he didn't care if people thought him successful or not. He was what he was. Others may view wealth as the criteria of a man. Jack didn't. His criteria lay elsewhere.I was disappointed when I found that Jack was leaving the next morning as I was looking forward to another evening of talking with him. It would be. As soon as I was naked I leaned down, rested my hand on his surprisingly hard cock and kissed his cheek. He moaned and said, "I don't think I could stand it if you stopped coming to see me now. You were always the highlight of my day. Now you're the highlight of my life."I kissed him again and said, "I'll keep coming here as long as you keep letting me get undressed and read to you. It really gets the juices flowing, doesn't it? And I love those magazines!"He chuckled and said, "I've been reading them for decades. But I've never enjoyed them as much as I do now!"I suggested that he remove his pants while I returned to my chair across from him, spread my legs and began to read the nasty letters. It feels different this time. I suppose the first time for everything is the most exciting. I'm still excited, of course. But I have several new points of reference. I'm no longer a virgin and I've taken part in some pretty raunchy sex. But I also have the pictures of my mother on the internet.
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