As mentioned, Candace's job at the Development Office was largely devoted to trying to find wealthy donors to the campus's endowment. It was oftentimes a thankless job, but Candace went about it in the spirit of a treasure hunt, and it always tickled her when she "struck gold" by getting someone she didn't expect to donate a wad of money.
In recent years, a man named Richard Cotterman—who lived in Winthrop, Massachusetts, on the North Shore, although occasionally he could be found in various spots in Maine—donated a modest but regular amount every six months or so. Candace discovered that he was an alumnus (Class of 2000), and estimated his age at about forty-two, only two years younger than herself. He seemed self-employed—something in the tech field—but also seemed to have a fair amount of time on his hands. Recently he had stated by email that he might be inclined to start donating a much larger sum, and so Candace decided that it was time for a face-to-face meeting. He took her up on her invitation, agreeing to come to her office around 3 p.m. on a Thursday.
Candace wasn't entirely thrilled at the prospect of meeting him. She had a prejudice against "techies" as a bunch of nerds crunching numbers into a tablet while continually pushing their thick-lensed glasses up onto their noses. Such guys were notoriously awkward in social situations, weren't they? Candace whimsically considered the idea of making a mild pass at him and gauging his horrified reaction—but thought better of it, since that could jeopardize his whole donation campaign, and jeopardize her job in the process.
When Richard walked into her office, ushered in by her secretary, Candace froze in the act of extending her hand toward him.
Richard Cotterman was about six feet tall, incredibly broad around the shoulders and chest, and with thick but shapely thighs on his strong legs. But it was his face that set her heart a-flutter: there was a cragginess to it reminiscent of the classic film noir private eye of the 1940s, and yet a gentleness around his hazel eyes that bespoke tenderness and sensitivity. And when Richard reached out to take her hand, the contact somehow seemed to electrify her.
She looked down at the hand being taken—gently but firmly—by this amazing man, then looked back up at his face, which was placid but mildly puzzled. Eventually he released her hand, but continued to stand facing her. Candace, for the life of her, could not utter a word. She had to hold on to the edge of the desk to prevent herself from falling in a heap to the floor.
Then she did something she never thought she would ever do in her life.
Still without saying a word to her guest, she looked around her small office for an appropriate place for what she was contemplating. At last she saw that her desk, relatively clean and uncluttered, was her only option. Giving Richard a plangent look, she bent over the desk, resting her torso on the flat surface, leaving her legs hanging down to the floor.
Then, already in a kind of dream or trance, she lifted up her skirt and exposed her thin cotton panties to her visitor.
It seems Richard was, far from being socially awkward, in the habit of dealing with any situation, however unexpected, with grace and aplomb. He walked calmly so that he was directly behind Candace. Then he took hold of her panties on either side of her hips and brought them down to her knees.
He now gazed at Candace's sex, assessing the situation. He could see a little trickle of fluid leaking out of her labia and down the inside of her thighs. Unhurriedly, he unzipped his pants and brought out his member. For an instant Candace wondered in alarm if he would stuff it into her anus without lubrication; but he chose the simpler way and went into her pussy.
Seizing her hips with both hands to keep his balance, he thrust into her forcefully but without the least show of violence. She could sense that his organ was at least eight inches, perhaps a bit more; and as he pumped, he went in farther and farther, until she could feel the smooth cloth of his pants against her thighs. But what she felt most of all was the sense of being totally filled by one of the most desirable men she had ever seen or met.
She did nothing else, spreading her arms across the desk as if she were a sacrificial lamb—and that's exactly what she felt like. She couldn't remember the last time she had been so passive and helpless, but that didn't trouble her.
She heard Richard's grunts getting louder and more urgent, and suspected his culmination was approaching. But, gentleman that he was, he now slipped his hand down to Candace's sex, fingers on either side of his cock as he continued to pound her, and stroked her labia and clitoris as best he could reach them from this position. That was enough: when, a moment later, he sent an enormous emission deep into her vagina, she cried out in tandem with him as a mind-bending orgasm caused her to shudder throughout her body.
He remained firmly embedded in her for minutes after he was finished. Then, slowly, he pulled out, put his cock daintily back into his pants, and zipped up.
Once again the gentleman, he slid Candace's panties back into place, even though they promptly got damp from the joint fluids leaking out of her.
She got back onto her feet, letting the skirt fall back down to cover her thighs. Then she stumbled over to her desk chair, landing heavily on it and wriggling a little as the moisture pooled around her crotch. Looking straight at Richard, she said:
"Hi, I'm Candace Merrill. Why don't we talk about your donation . . ."
*
When Candace came home that afternoon, Julie was sitting on the couch reading a textbook. She could immediately see, from the dazed and dreamy look on her mother's face, that something strange had happened.
"Mom, what is it?" she said sharply. "What's the matter with you?"
Candace gazed at her daughter quizzically, as if she didn't recognize her. Then she burst into a broad smile and said, "I just had sex in my office. Right on my desk."
"You
what?"
Julie exclaimed. "Jesus. Mom, why? With who?"
"With
whom,
dear," Candace mechanically corrected. "It was a guy."
"Well, I figured it was a guy."
Although you've been known to take females to bed too, including yours truly.
"Julie," Candace said contemplatively, "I've been involved in the battle of the sexes a lot longer than you have. Honestly, I can't remember the last time a man made me weak in the knees—and wet between my legs. But this Richard Cotterman did—oh, man, did he ever!" And she looked off in the distance with a goofy smile on her face.
"Oh, so you had sex with this man just because he made you wet?"
"Yup."
"And I suppose he didn't bat an eye and went along and did it?"
"Yup."
"Typical guy! Never say no to free sex."
"No, he's not like that."
"Isn't he?"
"He's . . . incredible."
Julie had never seen her mother like this. It was as if she were reverting to being a schoolgirl. But she didn't have much time to reflect on this, as Candace now suddenly sprang into action.
"Get up, dear," she ordered. "We have work to do."
"What do you mean?" Julie said.
"He's coming to dinner—will be here in about an hour."
"You have sex with him,
then
invite him to dinner. How typical!"
"I'll have none of your sarcasm, young lady. We have to get something extra-special prepared. Where's your grandmother? She has to help too."
"I think she's in the basement, doing the laundry."
"That can wait," Candace said, heading downstairs.
Mona was practically dragged up the stairs and put to work in the kitchen. Candace would have preferred some hearty, "manly" dish such as a pot roast, but there was no time for that. Luckily, there were some pork chops that could be defrosted and prepared. Various other fixings were to accompany the meal, and some cookies would have to suffice for dessert.
When Richard came by at six, he received an effusive welcome.
Candace threw her arms around his neck and pasted a long, wet kiss on his mouth, not caring who saw her or how shameless her behavior might appear to the others. As for Julie, her knees also buckled a little when she first saw him, and she had to hang on to the back of an easy chair to prevent herself from falling to the floor. When Richard wrapped her small hand in both of his, she gaped at him and could hardly utter a word.
Then Josh came up to introduce himself. The two men greeted each other warmly. Richard had been told that Josh was Julie's girlfriend. He thought the arrangement a bit odd, but Candace had said that it was just for convenience ("Otherwise the silly girl would be running over to his rooming house every night—for you know what!").
Mona now emerged from the kitchen, fetchingly wearing an apron. When she first laid eyes on the new man in the house, she stopped in her tracks, and Candace could tell that she flushed slightly, although Richard might not have noticed. She said hello with a half-smile—and seemed pleased that Richard gazed intently at her, his eyes widening slightly.
Dinner was a highly successful affair, and everyone (including Candace) pumped Richard for something of his background. He was, as his new lover had guessed, forty-two years old, and twice married and divorced. Somehow Candace was surprised at that, as he wore no ring; but he stated that his first marriage was when he was a very young man, just out of Harvard, and it had lasted only a year or two. The second marriage was with a colleague at the software company he had founded when he was twenty-eight—and that proved to be a mistake too, for working with your spouse is always trouble. They had divorced amicably four years later. Incredibly, the woman still worked with Richard (although now on a freelance basis).
Richard had a house in Winthrop as well as a vacation cottage in Maine. He did not regard himself as a wealthy man, but his total assets were in the low seven figures at the very least.
Almost immediately after dinner was concluded, Candace dragged Richard upstairs to her bedroom. Once they were out of earshot, she said: "You're spending the night here, aren't you?"
"Am I?" he replied blandly.
"You'd better, if you know what's good for you!"
And once in the bedroom, with the door safely closed, Candace had proceed to strip in under a minute. Richard watched the display with quiet pleasure, gazing (as Candace had predicted with some self-satisfaction) at those incredible breasts of hers. But the rest of her came under close scrutiny also.
As Candace stood there in the middle of the room, hands on hips, Richard unhurriedly disrobed. There was a quiet elegance to everything he did, and his lover didn't mind the time he took to undress—nor did she mind what was revealed when he did so. Broad shoulders, muscular chest, strong thighs, shapely calves, elegant feet, broad back—and, of course, that swelling eight- or nine-inch apparatus at his groin.
A frenzy of lovemaking—cocksucking, pussy-licking, and vaginal penetration—followed, and when both had attained their first climaxes, they decided to rest, knowing that several more would be in the works before the night was over.
As Candace was resting comfortably against Richard's side, his arm stroking her head, back, and bottom, he calmly stated, as a plain fact rather than a question:
