The very beginning. At the time, this was the sluttiest thing I'd ever contemplated.

After being laid off, I landed a job in a new city. It felt like perfect timing. My kids were in college and their dad has been out of the picture for years. This was an exciting position and new starts can be good for the soul. The house was packed and sold astonishingly fast and, in what seemed like a blink, I was spending the last night in my home.

Being packed up and mostly empty, the house felt foreign. The tvs were already on their way and the books were in boxes. I settled into my night with some celebratory champagne and started browsing on my phone.

I'd visited my local r4r before. I'd never been brave enough to respond or post but the window shopping was always fun. This time an ad stood out. We're both immigrants from the same place which is fairly uncommon for our location. The ad was sexy and intelligent and made me laugh out loud. I was charmed.

We have other things in common, it's not like I'm really responding to him, I told myself as I typed up an introduction. I sent it and nervously kept hitting refresh until an orange envelope appeared.

His profile said his name was, Raj. I don't mind telling you that because I know it's not true. I wouldn't be able to tell you his name, even if I wanted to.

The conversation was flirtatious and fun, like old, reunited lovers. Just as I was feeling comfortable, a photo appeared with his message. It was a photo from the neck down of a man in a very nice suit. His chest was broad and I was instantly attracted his taste in well fitting, nice clothes.

I'm not young but I think I'm attractive for my age. I take very good care of myself and am confident. I searched my phone and found a picture of me at a wedding, wearing a fitted dress. I guillotined myself and sent it back.

He responded very positively and added, "I've always loved older women." What? How old was he? I was so caught up in the other details, I didn't notice his age. I quickly pulled up the ad. Thirty-two. I could very easily be his mom. I've never been attracted to younger men before. On the other hand, I was enjoying the conversation and decided to pretend I didn't learn that.

After a few more messages, the photos were being lobbed back and forth, with increasing approval and interest. Faces. Then bodies. With less and less clothing. Between the champagne and his compliments, taking increasingly explicit photos felt sexy and empowering.

Finally, he asked, "Do you want to meet? I have a great bottle of white in the fridge." It might have been the thrill of new beginnings, or being showered with compliments by a younger, handsome man, or the alcohol but I was really considering this.

It had been a long time since I had acted on a whim. I'm usually talking myself out of taking risks. This time, I was finding out hard to say no.

I told him I could be tempted and we started talking about our fantasies. I told him something I've never told another guy. Sometimes, I see men out in public and I wonder. What kind of sex partners are they? How big he might be under there? I look at his hands and imagine what they'd feel like. Secretly, I always wish one of these men could read my mind and know that I'm thinking dirty thoughts. I picture him thinking the same thing and we... indulge.

Raj made a suggestion. Why don't I uber over, knock and we'll tear each other apart. No introductions. No nervous chit-chat; in fact, no talking at all. Just sex with a stranger.

The idea was too good to pass up. I quickly freshened up and put on some sexy underwear before ordering a ride.

In the few minutes I had waiting for the driver, nervously sipping another glass of liquid courage, I started wondering if I could go through with this. Luckily, the car pulled up and I didn't have time to question this anymore.