Boomer Woman Seduces Millennial Girlie Girl

OK boomer, go ahead, remove my panties.

I had just turned 27. She was 53 and thought she ruled the world. After less than two hours with me, that script would be totally flipped.

See, I had this small inheritance from my aunt and I wanted to invest in an income property in Los Angeles. You have to understand, I was in special ed when I was young, and it was super hard for me to understand things about mortgage rates and so forth, so I want to see this mortgage broker, Emily. She was recommended to me by a lesbian friend so I thought well she might be a lesbian, too. Emily didn’t really have an office. She told me to come over to her house which I thought was a little bit sketch, but anyhow she was recommended so I just went with it.

She started in with the compliments soon as I got to her house. We sat down in the living room with a tray of coffee. “You’re so pretty,” she said. “I wish I had a slim figure. I was skinny like you when I was your age but when we turn 35 our metabolism slows down you know.”

“You still look good,” I said, and I saw her blush, and that’s when I knew I had her in the palm of my hand.

She was wearing an expensive pink Chanel suit, and I smelled expensive perfume. She had what looked like diamond earrings — what did I know? And pearls around her lovely neck. Her hair looked like thousand dollar hair, you know, and she was made up as if she was on her way to a photo shoot. Sure she might have been a few pounds heavy, but I thought she was…well, everything I wanted to be when I was her age — beautiful, well off, and looking like a million bucks.

“You think I still look good, huh?” she said, biting her lip, and looking straight in my eyes.

I bit my lip in return.

“Real good,” I said, and I tried to say it real breathy. It was like you could hear the clock ticking between us. Time started moving real slow.

“Well,” she said, finally, “I don’t know if you really qualify for this kind of a loan, for investment property.”

“Aw…” I said, and I think I must have sounded like a little girl who heard Christmas was cancelled.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I mean, there might be something I can do, but I’m really not sure.”

“What are you not sure about?” I said, and I think I bit my lip again and must have looked fucking sexy because I literally heard her kind of sigh or gasp. She was so horny for me.

“Well, honey,” she said. “I like you. And I want to help you out. But since the financial crisis, these banks are really making me dot every i and cross every t, you know what I mean?”

“Not really,” I said. I never read the news and just mind my own business, you know. “There was a financial crisis?”

She chuckled.

I must have gotten teary eyed then, because I just hate when people laugh at me.

“I know, I’m stupid, right,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to waste your time. Please accept my apologies.”

“Oh no, baby!” She was mortified. She had hurt my feelings, or so she thought. By the time I was 27 I was so used to being laughed at for my empty-headedness that it didn’t hurt me at all. In fact, it made me that much surer that I had her right where I wanted her — in the palm of my hand.

“Wait, baby!” she said. “Please, sit back down.”

I sat down and the tears trickled down my cheek.

“I have trouble with numbers,” I confessed. “When you talk about the APR and the points and all that, I get dizzy, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that!” I said. “I just…just…”

“I’m feeling REALLY dizzy right now, I’m sorry, I think I…can I lie down over there on the couch?”

“Of course!” she said. “Oh baby, I am so sorry. You go ahead and lie down here. And I’ll get you some water.”

I lay down on the couch and I was feeling like I was under water or something. All these things she had been telling me about the deposit and the requirements and the closing costs, all these facts and figures were spinning around in my head, and I almost felt like I was going to throw up.

Then she pulled up a chair next to the couch and she took my hand in hers. “Ding!” I said to myself. “It’s game on!”

“There, there,” she said, in a real nurturing voice. “You just rest here. Let me rub your shoulders, would that make you feel better?”

“Yeah…” I said, in a real sweety sweet voice. “That feels nice.”

She rubbed my shoulders and I could see she was having trouble swallowing, and her breathing was getting real heavy and she was just staring at me, her eyes getting wider and wider.

“It feels real nice when you touch me,” I said, in an even sweety-sweetier voice. I was hamming it up full-on now, trying to act as vulnerable and pathetic as possible, so she was tempted beyond temptation to take full advantage of me.

I WANTED her to take advantage of me. I hated it when a guy tried to manipulate me like this. But for some reason, when women did it — I LOVED it more than anything, and I hammed up my naivety no end so she could be even more tempted.

“It’s kind of warm in here,” I said, in a little high pitched voice. “Do you mind if I take this sweater off.”

“Of course not, here let me help you,” she said.

And she pulled my sweater off. I was wearing a little tank top underneath. She looked at my bare shoulders real greedily. I thought she was actually going to take a bite out of me.

“You’re so…” and then I couldn’t hear what she said.

“Pardon me?” I said.

“I said, you’re so…damn….fucking sexy, do you know that?”

I acted all shocked.

“Sexy?” I said. “What do you mean? Like…you’re attracted to me or something?”

She gulped.

“I’ve never been so fucking attracted to a girl before in my life,” she exclaimed. “I want you so bad. Girl…you have no fucking idea! I can hardly breathe right now. You are absolutely the most sexy thing on two legs.”

“But…” I said. “What about…our business relationship…isn’t that, kind of…well, we were just talking about getting a mortgage and you were saying that it was impossible and…”

“Oh fuck that,” she said. “I’ll have you a million and a half dollar loan by five tomorrow morning. Just let me kiss you. Oh god! I need to kiss you!”

Then we were making out. And in my head, the whole world turned pink and other bright girly colors. That happens to my brain when I'm with a woman--I guess it's called synesthesia--I see the color of the sexual attraction between us. And with women, it's always bright pink, purple, bright blue, like that.