Sophia was frustrated at first as he broke away from her, climbing off the bed to turn on the music.  Music was the last thing on her mind.  But truth be told, after a moment of catching her breath and watching the extremely fit young man strip, she saw the wisdom in it.  There was no need to rush, and every joy in stretching it out.  Her body, not as young as it used to be, recovered while she watched him playfully disrobe.  It was the sort of thing that made hiring a giggolo worth it, she thought to herself.  He knew women, clearly, knew that they wanted to be titillated, not just touched, fondled, not just fucked.  And he knew that despite what society said, they enjoyed a bit of male objectification.<br/><br/>"Looking good," she commented, scooting herself back on the bed into a more comfortable position, kicking her heels off and away.  She looked lewd, sprawled there on top of her covers in a ripped dress.  But she felt alive.<br/><br/>"I think I like you too, very much," she teased him back, reaching out and grabbing his neck as he came close.  She felt him touching her again, tracing the lines of her body as they kissed. At first she kept her eyes open, wanting to see her young lover, but then they closed and she just floated there in his touch.  Her hands traced his bare back, his sides, his hips.  It had been decades since Norman had a body even remotely like this and she just let herself revel in it, as superficial as it might be.  After all, it was what she had paid for.