Looking for a charming Older man who is detailed wordsmith for a roleplay …

[Curious153]

Love to chaat…70 Yr M here

 

[Spike204]

Helooo from Ireland how are you ? Love chat so hope to get to know you better ?

 

[Spike204]

“My husband hired an Older man to do some maintenance on our house. Things he should have been doing himself. The Older charmer has been at our place for a week, as he continues to find "honey do" projects that my husband must have felt beneath him. I see how hard and smart he works, how efficiently, and I get talkative. Coffee and breaks become reasons to chat. After lunch on a hot day, he is up a ladder cleaning gutters. I come out of the house, bored, to check and see if he can join in for some iced tea. As I come under the ladder,he looks down and ask “did you need something?”

That’s a really sexy photo hope we get to chat more ?

 

[MrsIndianPeach]

Hows it

 

[Spike204]

Hi how are you today ? Hope all is well ? Have you any naughty plans for the day ?

 

[Pad_Foot]

I’d answer at length but I am not a wordsmith, but I will look for more of your writing

 

[Worzel550]

Your taste for lingerie is exquisite.
As you wait to be measured you see the hunk you want.
His fingers tease your nips as he measures your bra size.
Almost feathering your clit as he measure your inside leg.
You know he's turned on, offering your number

 

[dpig67]

Helooo from Ireland how are you ? Love chat so hope to get to know you better ?

Also based in Ireland. Would love to chat with you and maybe try some of the roleplay you mentioned.

 

[quasimodm]

You're quite definitely charming. May I ask your age?

 

[jarhead76]

I’m just a homemaker, married for years, my days filled with the quiet rhythm of keeping a home—cooking, cleaning, tending to my husband and kids. But at the gym, where I go to feel alive, I met Clara, a vibrant woman in her late fifties who became my friend. Through her, I met her husband, Edward—a refined man, over 55, with a calm, artistic air. He paints, sculpts, and carries himself with this quiet intensity that’s hard to ignore. There’s always been this… pull between us. A glance that lingers too long, a brush of hands when passing a coffee cup, a spark that hums beneath the surface, unspoken but electric.
Clara’s out of town this week, and she asked me to stop by their house to feed their fish. It felt simple enough—pop in, sprinkle some flakes, leave. But being alone in their home, with its warm, eclectic charm, stirred something in me. Curiosity, maybe. Or something deeper. I wandered past the living room, down the hall, until I found myself at the door to Edward’s studio. I hesitated, but the pull was too strong. I stepped inside.
The room smelled of paint and wood, canvases leaning against walls, sculptures half-formed on tables. His work was breathtaking—vivid, intimate, alive in a way that made my heart skip. I moved closer, tracing the edges of a painting with my eyes, when I saw it. A figure on the canvas, soft curves, the slope of a shoulder, the tilt of a head. It was me. My breath caught. Another piece, a sketch this time—my eyes, my lips, rendered with such care it felt like he’d memorized every detail. My heart pounded, a mix of shock and something else—wonder, maybe, or thrill. To be seen like this, captured in secret, desired in a way I hadn’t felt in years… it set my skin on fire.
Then I heard it—footsteps, heavy and slow, coming down to the basement. Edward.

Gorgeous ass

 

[lifeis2short2b]

Yeah a waste of time. Slow and like pulling teeth to keep a conversation.