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Cars, real estate, stock, jewelry were some of the gifts Madame Beauregard-Wilmotte received. It would be fair to say that she earned them all on her knees and with those stunning red lips.

As she aged, she became more discriminating, wealth and cock size were basic requirements.

In the next few years, she added another.

At a charity event, where she made a substantial contribution, she was seated with the CEO of one of Europe’s biggest airplane manufacturers, along with his wife and their son, Hiram, Junior. who looked twelve.

Hiram Vogel, Senior appeared to be in his sixties. His wife, Samantha, looked closer to Hiram, Junior’s age, and was one of the most beautiful women Elvira had ever seen. Blonde, shapely. Her gown emphasized her tits and ass.

When the band started playing, Mr. and Mrs. Vogel, and the two other couples at their table got up to dance, leaving young Hiram and Madame Beauregard-Wilmotte sitting there awkwardly.

“Ma’am, I know this may be strange, but would you like to dance?”

“That’s very gentlemanly of you, young man. Thank you.”

It wasn’t an accident that Elvira rubbed her tits against him as they danced. She was just having a little fun with him.

It was his reaction that was a surprise, then it wasn’t. She could feel his manhood against her thigh. She smiled. “Does dancing with an old lady excite you, Hiram?”

“Ummm, I guess it does,” he blushed. He then put both hands on her ass. Her sixty-year-old ass.

“Do you know what you’re doing young man?” She whispered.

“I think so. I’m surprised that for your age, you’re so firm. By the way, everyone calls me Junior.”

Madame Beauregard-Wilmotte was shocked but decided to play along. “You don’t feel like a Junior and some men think that women age like fine wine. We get better and better. Have you ever been with a woman who wasn’t a teenager?”

“I’m twenty-two and I have and I don’t mean to brag, but I left them more than satisfied,” he looked at her and smiled.

She grinded against him, to make sure she’d felt what she thought she’d felt.

“I think you’re very bold and more than likely all talk and no action. I’m staying at the hotel across the street, suite 1165. If you’re not afraid, I’ll expect you to knock on my door in about a half hour.”

Madame Beauregard-Wilmotte left the dance floor, gathered her purse and stole, said goodbye, and lef

At events such as this she always reserved a near-by hotel room. It was more convenient and whomever she ended up with, it was for just one night. She didn’t like the idea of strangers knowing where she lived.

Elvira didn’t expect him and that would have been fine. He was just a boy. She’d been hoping to find a man, perhaps a man like his father, Hiram, Senior but his wife clung to him like lint. Junior didn’t appear to even shave. She wondered if had any hair on his balls. Quickly, she dismissed the thought. He wasn’t going to knock her door. That would be crazy.

She got ready for bed: wearing a comfortable but elegant nightgown. In the bathroom, she wiped the make-up off her face. She brushed her teeth and her hair.

Just as she was getting in bed, there was a knock on her door.

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