younger man

On the Job Training

He was in his mid twenties.  Fresh out of college and ready to save the world.  He’d just finished his Masters degree in Social Work and he was on a mission. We already had a full time social worker, so he settled for a job in activities…just to get his foot in the door in healthcare.  His name was Mike.

Initially, I wasn’t attracted to him at all.  Keep in mind, Greg and I were still seeing each other on occasion, and I had no intentions of juggling more than what I already had…the one at home and the one at work. But Mike was such a nice guy…clean cut…well-dressed…punctual…polite.  He was great with the patients, although he was lacking in variety.  They did the same activities over and over.  Other than the repetition, he was doing a good job.

One evening, I was working late trying to catch up with my documentation.  He happened to be there also.  We spoke in the hall and I noticed him walking by my office a few times. I could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t.  The next time I saw him walk by, I looked up and said, “Hey Mike!  How late are you working tonight?”

He seemed relieved that I’d spoken first.  He walked in my office, almost nervous, and said,”I don’t know.  I am waiting on my roommate to pick me up and he’s late.  I can’t get him on the phone. So I may be stuck here for a long time.”

I sincerely felt bad for him.  He was from another state, so he had no family here.  All he had were his co-workers and roommates.  I’d heard him say the he was saving up to get a new car, as his was beyond repair.  I thought…why not?  “Mike, let me give you a ride home tonight.  There’s no need for you to wait around all night.  I will be ready in about 15 minutes.  Does that work for you?”

He perked up, “Yes Ma’am.  That’s great!  Thank you!”

I was a little perplexed that he’d referred to me as “ma’am” but I was older than him, so I let it go without much thought.  When it was time to leave, he met my outside by my SUV.  He stood at the driver’s side and opened my door for me, which was a surprising nice touch.  As I drove him home, he asked if we could stop by a gas station.  I thought he needed something, but instead he walked inside and paid for gas for me.  I thought…WOW…this kid was raised right!

We pulled up to his place around 8:00.  He thanked me for the ride and walked inside.  When I arrived at work the next day, there was a cup of coffee on my desk, with a note, “Thanks for the ride, Ms. Tessa.  Enjoy your coffee”  What a sweetheart!  Then Greg walked into my office and said, “where did you get coffee?”

I smiled and said, “Mike got it for me. I gave him a ride home last night.”

I could tell he was not pleased. He smirked, “Yeah, he’s had eyes for you since he got here. Watch those young ones.  They are trouble.” And with that he walked out, heading to the morning meeting.  Whoa…I had no idea he was the jealous type.  I kind of liked it.

I arrived at the morning meeting a bit late (as always) and there were no other chairs  left for me to sit down. Dammit! It’s no fun standing in there for 30 minutes, trying to balance coffee and a notepad.  But before I could blink, Mike got up from his seat and motioned for me to take his seat.  I was reluctant at first, but I gave in.  My stilettos were high and my motivation was low…so it was a welcomed seat.  I could feel Greg’s eyes watching and I knew he was not happy.  But he liked standing up, so he didn’t have a seat to offer me.

After the meeting, I walked into my office and began my day.  It was super busy and before I knew it, it was lunchtime. I went to the break room to retrieve my lunch and Mike was in there, eating his sandwich.  I planned to eat in my office, but he pulled out a chair beside him and I felt obligated to join him  “How has your day been, Ms. Tessa?” he asked.

“It’s been busy, so your coffee hit the spot this morning.  Thank you. That was sweet of you.”  I caught him blushing as he said, “You’re welcome, Ms. Tessa”

I had to say it…”You do realize that I am only about five years older than you, don’t you?  You don’t have to call me Ms. or ma’am.  It’s sweet, but not necessary.”

He blushed again…poor thing. “I’m sorry.  I just wanted you to know how much I respect you.”

And then I saw it…what Greg was referring to…the boy had a crush on me.  Bless his heart.  “Mike, you are such a kind soul.  I appreciate your intention.  By the way, how’s the car search going?”

“It’s going.  Only have to save another few paychecks to put the money down I need.” And I made an executive decision.  This young man was trying so hard…trying to make it on his own, that I needed to help him.

“Let me know if you ever need a ride.  I am glad to do what I can to help you.” and with that, I walked out.

A few days later, Mike stopped by my office.  “Is there any way you could give me a ride today?”  I was happy to help him.  When 5:00 arrived, he was at my office, ready to go.  I was bringing home a stack of files and before I could pick them up, he had them. It felt like he was carrying my books after school.  We got to the car and once again, he opened my door.  I took him home a few times over the next few weeks.

This infuriated Greg.  We were growing apart before all of this, but his attitude towards Mike pushed me further away.  We’d been seeing each other for over a year and we were approaching an impasse. We’d gone as far as we could go in our situation, and it was time to slowly back away.  So we decided to be friends…without benefits.

And Mike and I became closer.  He was such a sweet and charming young man, that the thought of crossing the line, never crossed my mind. But one day, as I drove him home he put his hand on mine as we approached his apartment.

“Tessa, I really like you in a way that I probably shouldn’t.  And if you are not interested, I will never mention it again. But if you are, I’d love for you to come inside and let me show you how much I care for you.”

Speechless, I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know what to do. I knew I would blow his young mind and then I’d have a ‘stage 5 clinger’ on my hands. But I was intrigued.  It took serious balls to say what he did and it made me wonder if he didn’t have some swagger hidden underneath that college boy demeanor.

So I threw the car in park and leaned over to kiss him. That would tell me what I needed to know. And it left me breathless, wanting more.  He walked over to my side of the car, opened the door, took my hand and led me into his apartment.  His roommate was working 2nd shift, so we were alone.

Clothes began coming off in the doorway. He was a passionate kisser and seemed very experienced at removing a bra…Hmmm, maybe he has some chops.  Then he backed me up to the kitchen counter and pulled my panties down.  He knelt in front of me, lifting me by the legs with his shoulders, propping me up on the counter.  He spread me open and tasted my wetness as if I were a delicacy.  His tongue was long and adept and he knew how to drive me to the edge.  He made me cum right there in his kitchen.

He walked me to his room, laying me down on his bed.  “I cannot wait to feel inside you.  I have wanted you from the time we met.”  He positioned himself on top of me, opening my legs with his hips.  Looking into my eyes he pushed himself inside.  He let out a long moan. Grasping my hips he pushed deeper, making me scream. We developed a hypnotic rhythm as our bodies fused together.  He took my hands in his and we stared in each others eyes as we climaxed.  It was intensely hot and I wanted more.

For weeks we carried on like that.  After work.  Before work.  At lunch.  The sex was hot and exciting.  In his youthful form, he was able to rebound in a matter of minutes.  So we fucked.  A lot.  We became consumed by our addiction to each other.  On the flip side, I was becoming more and more successful at work.  My new little tryst proved to be energizing for me.  I was number one in the company for three months in a row.  I attribute it to being happy and sated.  Even Greg noticed a change in me…but thankfully, he never figured out that Mike was the cause of it.  I was flourishing!  I made sure all of my work was done in a timely manner, so I could leave at 4:30 and have time to get my brains fucked out before going home.  

Mike didn’t fare so well. He was stuck in a perpetual love hangover.  He fell head over heels in love with me and didn’t focus on his work.  I tried to help him in any way I could. I even stopped seeing him for a while trying to rid him of the distraction, but he was too far gone.  The poor guy was lovesick.  Literally.  He gave up on his job and became obsessed with us.  I told him the rules from the beginning, no falling in love…but he allowed himself to fall hard.

Soon after, I was promoted to a regional position that required I travel all the time.  I later found out that Mike was let go. He wasn’t showing up for work. He was missing activities. He was a total mess.  He is the reason for the old adage…“don’t put your meat where you make your bread.” Some people cannot handle it.

About 7 years ago, I saw him at a workshop.  He landed a great job in social services, helping foster children…perfect for what he wanted.  He was engaged to one of his co-workers (imagine that) and he looked happy.  I was genuinely tickled to see him.  We hugged and reminisced for a few, and then went our separate ways.  I keep up with how he’s doing through a mutual friend, but we’ve not talked since.  I am glad he is doing well.

Looks like all that on-the-job-training served him well.  Bless his heart!   


(Photo credit, Pinterest)



The Man



Summer 2014.

Earlier that year, I left the loveless relationship I’d been in for 10 years and moved on.  I loved the single life.  I enjoyed not having to “answer” to anyone about my whereabouts.  I liked having a bowl of cereal for dinner.  I liked my freedom, but I still craved connection.  I wanted a casual partnership, nothing too serious.  I wanted hot, unbelievable sex, when I wanted it.  So I joined a couple of online dating sites and suddenly found my dance card full.  It was quite a ride.

There was the ultra religious man who should have never ventured off of Christian Mingle to the other racier dating sites.  I was too fast for his blood, but we had a good time.  There was a psychiatrist with the social skills of an awkward tween.  There was a retired philosophy professor, old enough to be my grandfather, that made me cum more than anyone had in months.  There were a host of others.  Some of them noteworthy..many of them not.

And then there was Viktor.

He was fifteen years my junior.  Very tall.  Very handsome.  And very worldly despite his age.  He was of Serbian descent.  His family moved to the US prior to the turmoil of the nineties.  He was raised here, but had this European swagger.  He carried himself in a way that demanded respect and attention, yet he was kind and considerate.  He could blend in with a well-traveled CEO or dish with a seven year old about Star Wars.  His range was impressive.  I was fascinated with him.  He had more depth than the average fish in the sea.  He was different.

After talking for a couple of days, I invited him over.  I had a child-free weekend and I was curious to meet him in person.  Being the gentleman he was, he brought over a bottle of chilled Etienne Sauzet Chardonnay that was exquisite.  A man who brings that kind of wine on the inaugural meeting had some serious game and I found myself a bit nervous.  I noticed his impressive watch, as he opened the bottle in my kitchen.  To make small talk, I asked him about it.

“That’s a lovely watch you’re wearing.  I’ve not seen that style before.”  I nervously muttered.

He grinned as he poured me a glass.  “It’s not very common, especially around here.  It’s an Audemars Piguet Royal Oak Offshore.  I just got it as a gift to myself for getting into Harvard Business School.”

At this point, I thought…okay.  Here comes the bullshit.  He’s a con artist.  I mean who rattles off a five word brand for a wristwatch.  And who in the hell casually comments about getting into Harvard Business School.

But this was no bullshit. He was the real deal.

As we made our way to my leather sofa, he told me about his educational quest for an Ivy League graduate degree.  He had been accepted at several of the major business schools in the country (Dartmouth, Columbia, Yale…and yes, Harvard) but couldn’t decide where he wanted to go.  I’ll be crude, but the thought of all that made me wet.  Such intelligence.  Such drive and ambition.  He had old world class and I could barely wait to get this guy in bed. He was so refined.  So successful, that I knew he would know how to fuck me silly.

But that night, we simply talked.  We shared stories, experiences and a couple of bottles of wine (the bottles I had on hand were far less than impressive compared to what he brought) and we parted ways in the wee hours of the morning….without me even parting my legs.  DAMMIT.

I later realized that he was testing me.  He was asserting control.  He was so disciplined that he did not allow our evening to go beyond a hot passionate kiss.  He had me where he wanted me and that was…me wanting him badly.  I could barely plan my Fourth of July celebration, I was so distracted with this enigma of a man.  Again…a man fifteen years younger than me.

Early in the afternoon of July 4th, we began exchanging sexual banter via text.  He was always classy, but had a way of writing that only made me want to fuck him more.  I was a dripping mess by the time the evening rolled in.  He sent a text around 10:30 pm.

“What are your wearing?”

I was clever in my response…”Heels and a smile. You should come see for yourself.”

His response…”Oh I plan to. I will arrive in 30 minutes.  I expect to find you in nothing but heels.  And I will ensure you keep that smile.”

My switch was turned on.  I couldn’t wait for him to get there.  But was I really brazen enough to answer the door in nothing but heels?  I toiled over it for about 15 minutes when I realized that I was running out of time.  So I found a lovely, asset-flattering, low cut black dress, donned my highest “fuck me” stilettos and carefully applied my slut red lipstick (Ladies, you know the color…not berry red, not wear-to-the-office red….SLUT red.  There is a difference.)

He arrived precisely 30 minutes from the time of our last text.  I peered out the window as he drove up in his shiny new BMW.  I hadn’t noticed it from before, but even the car was sexy.  He swaggered out of the front seat and tapped on the door.  My God he looked amazing.  Crisply pressed shirt.  Cuffed sleeves.  Khakis that displayed his taut ass.

I opened it slowly to add to the anticipation.  He looked so hot.  His thick dark hair was slightly disheveled, but he was immaculate.  He smelled divine.  Our eyes met as he walked in and closed it behind him, taking me in his arms, kissing me right there…pinning me to my front door.

“I thought I said, heels only.” he growled between his teeth.  “But this dress suits you”  He took my hand and led me to the couch.  Where he proceeded to open the champagne he brought.  He filled our glasses as he proposed a toast.

“To fireworks.”  And he grinned his mischievous smile.

“To fireworks.” I nodded.  And I drank the entire glass, as if it were a ‘last call’ shot back in my college days.

He pulled me over onto his lap.  I straddled him on the couch  He kissed me passionately, but with intention.  Everything he did was with purpose.  He knew just how to drive a woman mad with his lips.  He masterfully removed my bra, without taking off my dress.  He caressed my full breasts through the dress and then artfully pulled them out of my low-cut neckline.  I unbuttoned his shirt.  He embraced me and lifted my dress up as he grabbed my bare ass.  (I decided not to wear panties).  He squeezed my ass and his fingers found their way to my sweet spot.  I felt like I’d cum immediately.  I was so turned on my him.

He plunged his fingers deep into my sex, demanding an orgasm.  There was no turning back.  I came furiously for him as he watched the results of his handiwork.  I slid down from his lap and took his hard cock in my mouth.  I took him deep.  I loved sucking him, but I longed to feel him inside me.

Once again he took me by the hand and led me to a large armless accent chair. He sat down and motioned for me to ride his ample cock.  I began to straddle him when he turned me around to face away from him.  I positioned myself on him as he found my dripping wet hole.  He slid his hard shaft inside my wetness and pulled my hips down firmly.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“It feels so fucking good.  I want more.” My God….I sounded so needy.

And without words or hesitation, he guided my rhythm.  He fucked me hard.  I came several times before I felt him become more rigid as he poured his seed inside me.  I loved how it felt as he filled me with his hot load.

We both sat there speechless for a bit, when he reached over and poured us some more champagne.  We finally found our voices as we reflected on our amazing scene.  We talked for a long time.  And while we were siting on the floor, he summoned me to him.  I could tell he was ready to fuck again.  He bent me down, face first to the floor as he took me again.  And again.

That was almost two years ago, and I can still remember the touch of his hand…the smell of his skin.  How he felt inside me. Viktor connects with me on a level that few have, or ever will.  We just get each other.  Even though we haven’t been together for quite a while, we stay in close touch.  There is a place that exists between us where we can be our real and flawed selves (although he has no flaws…in my eyes, he is perfect).  We have such depth together.  I get him.  He gets me.  And we are the best of friends…from  a distance.  He lives two states away and that distance is healthy.  I am in a relationship where I am very happy.  Viktor is unattached and adventurous and still has his wild oats to sow…working as a VP for a European bank, showing up in his tailored Anderson-Sheppard suits everyday.  He is living the dream.  I do hope he finds a woman worthy of him.

As for me, I have the memories of our time together that summer.  So I will close this jaunt down memory lane with the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me…courtesy of Viktor.


That is some serious swagger.  I even published his words on Pinterest…