MLK day always holds a certain fond memory of mine. It was the birthday of a friend, Christina. Christina was in her sixties when I was in my early twenties. She lived in the apartment next door to me and was constantly trying to seduce me. She would knock on my door late at night, wine bottle in hand, and ask me if I was lonely in that heavy German accent.
One night, her gas heater wouldn't light. She knocked on my door in a negligee.
"Oh Andrew," she said as she would bat her eyelashes. "Will you light my fire?"
I will never forget walking over to her apartment. She took off her negligee and stood there in her panties. A bottle of cheap perfume was in her hand and she sprayed it on her ample breasts.
"Rub me," she said. "Let me feel your warm and strong hands."
I got scared and left. I have often kicked myself in the proverbial ass for not taking advantage of enjoying the wiles of an older woman. I never was a very sexual creature -- always too shy about it. I wonder where Christina is now. Probably back in her beloved Austria. She never did like living in the states.