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.
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