Eleanor: 5’. Michael: 6’1”. The discrepancy should have kept these teachers apart.

Michael surprised her at her art classroom, complimenting her eyes and lips. She shivered.

“Why do you eat lunch alone?”

Gulp, blush. “Everyone thinks I’m weird.” Gasp!

Panty-melting kiss. “I like weird.”

Eleanor, at fifty, slept at a man’s house for the first time in twenty years. Michael had genuine intimacy with a woman for the first time in his six decades.

She apologized for a small vagina. He giggled as she stroked his diminutive erection.

She slid down him with ease. A short trip.

“Perfect,” sighed both.