Gracie liked men. She had no preference for any type and blond was as good as redhead was as good as grey and as bald. Tall was good and short was good. Age wasn’t important either, so anywhere from sixteen to sixty five would do. She’d never tried sixty five, she said, but as long as they rocked her world that would be just fine.
She liked a little romance sometimes, perhaps a meal and flowers, sweet words, a gentle touch and she liked a man to compliment her. She liked to be protected and looked after, treated to presents and bought things. She liked to be spoilt. But it was just fine to come along empty-handed, as long as they moved the earth.
Gracie liked every bit of dating and going out but her absolute favourite was the sex. Outside she was a proper girl but inside she was close to being a proper bloke. She didn’t really want the love bit and for most guys that was just fine. She was as happy as them to wham, bam, thank you… both. She was good at sex, very good, and she demanded her men performed their best. Some even got asked back for a repeat or two but they were expected to improve with every outing. The satisfaction and the world rocking and the earth moving, that was what she lived for.
One day Gracie met Johnny. He did the flowers and the presents and the cuddles and the compliments and Gracie liked it more than usual. He held her and stroked her cheek. He told her stories about growing up in Somerset and he made her laugh. He read to her and wrote about her. He made her miss him when he wasn’t there. She decided five feet eight inches and sandy blond and thirty two were her preferences after all.
And though he was fantastic at all the things that didn’t matter so much to Gracie, Johnny was only just fine at the sex bit. It was nice, pretty good even. Nothing rocked and nothing moved but Gracie decided a bit of stability wasn’t so bad after all.