Straight Female / 58
The Sex Memory That Won't Fade Away
When chats came about on the internet I joined a chat for persons interested in pre Colombian artifacts. I am a teacher in the San Francisco Bay area and I have had an interested in pre Colombian art since my days in college. I was turning 40 at the time and I had discovered the chat rooms and had lots of interesting discussions. One of them with a man from Ecuador enticed me to do the thing everyone tells you not to do, go visit someone you only met on in a chat room.
I took my savings and booked a flight to Quito. When I arrived I booked a room at a hotel he had suggested, in the old downtown. A two star hotel with one small bed. I met him there, he spoke passable English, he drove a taxi cab but showed deep interest in pre Colombia art. He had been a school teacher for a good part of his life.
I made the second big mistake, there was no lobby in the small hotel so invited him to my room. What happened there is in all respects assault. He viscously r**ed me. He left and I never saw him or heard from him again. I was too embarrassed to do anything about it. I went back to San Francisco with my shame as the only memory of my trip to Ecuador.
Time has a way of playing tricks with your mind. My intimate life has been mostly a failure. In my lifetime I have had three men, one of them in Quito. The other two hardly worth remembering. I am 58 years old and the only man that I think of is that man, that room, that evening. A confidant woman friend put it to me bluntly, I got the best fucking of my life on that trip.
I took my savings and booked a flight to Quito. When I arrived I booked a room at a hotel he had suggested, in the old downtown. A two star hotel with one small bed. I met him there, he spoke passable English, he drove a taxi cab but showed deep interest in pre Colombia art. He had been a school teacher for a good part of his life.
I made the second big mistake, there was no lobby in the small hotel so invited him to my room. What happened there is in all respects assault. He viscously r**ed me. He left and I never saw him or heard from him again. I was too embarrassed to do anything about it. I went back to San Francisco with my shame as the only memory of my trip to Ecuador.
Time has a way of playing tricks with your mind. My intimate life has been mostly a failure. In my lifetime I have had three men, one of them in Quito. The other two hardly worth remembering. I am 58 years old and the only man that I think of is that man, that room, that evening. A confidant woman friend put it to me bluntly, I got the best fucking of my life on that trip.
