Dear Doily: Should I Fuck That Old Man?

Dear Doily,

Okay, soooo…. I have this problem, and I figured y’all could help me??? I read your stuff a lot, and from what I can tell your org is full of enough morally dubious figures that one of you freaks will know what to do.

I (20F) am not normally picky with my sexual partners. I’ve been with bad boys, sad boys, rat boys, and brat boys (I know! I didn’t think there were any straight men that liked Charli xcx either) and I generally enjoyed myself with all of them. I mean, sure, the goth boys would always steal my makeup and the moth boys always left holes in my sweaters, but I had fun! I like what I like, and what I like is a boy with nice hair that knows at least one chord on a guitar.

Usually, when I’m at a club and someone visibly over the age of, like, 35 comes up to me, I’ll tell him to take a hike or start throwing tampons at him until he goes away. Also, half the time it turns out that he’s one of my professors, and he just doesn’t know I’m in his class because I stopped attending after the first week. 

So, tell me why when, last Friday night, a man (65M) with a five-o’clock shadow walked up to me at Tequila Cowgirl, told me he appreciated my “youthful aura,” then bought me a normal-ass apple juice because “alcohol is bad for your figure,” and yet I still kinda wanted to fuck him? He was sexy in a Bob-Saget-right-before-he-died kind of way, and his jeans were only two sizes too small.

Against my better judgment, I asked him to play pool, but he refused, saying that playing pool reminded him of swimming pools and swimming pools reminded him of the shark attack that took his dad’s arm during the Vietnam War. Normally, I’d hear a story like that and my pussy would be dryer than a slice of turkey from Subway, yet on this occasion, my immediate thought was, Omg, he’s so tortured. I can fix him. Immediately, I was hornier than the stuffed stag head mounted on the wall.

After talking at the bar for 20 minutes, he took me to the lounge area, sat me down, held both of my hands, and told me that he hadn’t felt so strongly about a woman since his wife tragically died in a sandstorm at an outdoor Darude concert. I told him that I, in return, hadn’t felt so strongly about a man since a rat boy stole my cheese and burrowed into my walls. He leaned in for a chaste kiss, and I started to shove my tongue down his throat. He pulled back, then told me that, after losing his wife, he doesn’t think he could give his heart or his dick over to someone unless they agreed to spend his life with him and be gentle with him.

So, not only is he not my usual type, but he’s asking for commitment that, at this point in my life, is too much for me to handle. But like, I NEED that dick. I need to fuck him so hard that his dead wife hears him cum from six feet underground. I need his jizz to spread across me like mayo on an egg salad sandwich. After all, a wrinkly dick means that it’s ribbed, right?

Is this old man’s dick worth it, Doily?

Hornily,

Silver Fox Hunter

Dear Silver Fox Hunter,

Ayo can I get your professor’s number??? Just so I can remind him of the chode- I mean, code of ethics.

Yours Truly,

The Doily Allergen