My name is Rochelle and at that time, I was 37 1/2 years old and felt under appreciated. My kids were young, and my husband loved pot and drinking more than me, or at least that's how I felt at the time.
He spent most of his free time smoking pot in the garage than usual. He spent very little time with me and the kids. Every four days he got horny and demanded sex. I would fuck him just to keep peace in the household. It was just sex.
Sex with him at that time was all about him cumming. He rarely went down on me. Never said he loved me or complemented me. It was a low point in our marriage, and I wasn't sure that I was going to get through it.
The saving grace was that we were rich and had a 24/7 live-in housekeeper. Cathia was responsible for taking care of the house and the kids. She was not exactly attractive. She was overweight and reserved. In other words, my husband would never cheat on me with Cathia.
Our having a live-in housekeeper made it a lot easier on everyone when my husband or I went on business trips. My husband's obligations to the household and the kids were minimal, which eased my mind.
I was quite attractive at the time. I had a thin frame, but a nice chest. My boobs weren't big, and I never had a breast enhancement, but they were perky, and my nipples looked great when they were hard which was often. Getting men's attention was pretty easy when you had a soccer mom's body.
So, it was the night before one of my business trips, and my husband wanted to have sex before I traveled, so I fucked him. It really wasn't that great, so I'm not going to spend time going into the details. But it was sex, he came deep inside me, and I did orgasm once. So, it could have been a lot worse...LMFAO.
In the morning, I kissed him goodbye, and I headed to LAX which was always a nightmare, any day and at any time of the day. I was headed to Boston. I was meeting with one of my clients, a biotech company, who's looking for capital to acquire a small competitor. I was just looking to stay there a few days.
I arrived at Boston around midday and took a cab to my hotel. I put away all my clothes and put on a business suit. I was wearing a white cotton button-down shirt, black slacks and a matching black coat. I put on a minimal amount of make-up. My objective was to look professional into deemphasize my feminine qualities. Being a woman in the banking world wasn't that easy.
It was around 2 PM, and I showed up at my clients' office. The receptionist escorted me to the conference room. She was young, attractive and nicely dressed. She had a wedding ring on.
"Would like some coffee Mrs..."
I interrupted her, "Yes!"
I took some papers out of my briefcase. It was all very uneventful. I sat quietly and waited for the receptionist to bring in my coffee.
"Will there be anything else?"
I just said, "No thank you."
A few of the senior executives, including the CFO, entered the room. We made small talk for about 15 minutes and then they initiated their presentation. Basically, pitching me on their financial stability and how they're going to use the money that they wanted us to lend them.
After a couple hours, we shook hands and planned to have another meeting in the morning. I had scheduled a return flight a couple of days later. I figured I could close the deal and get a couple nights away from my husband. Win-win.
The next day's morning meeting would be my turn to tell the clients what Bank of America could do for them and discuss what kind of terms that we might offer. This gave me the rest of the day to hammer out the details between my bank and the customer.
On my way out, this young guy came up to me. He looked about 20 years old. He introduced himself as Chuck. He was pretty average height for a guy. He wore a white button-down shirt with a tie, dress slacks, and black shoes. Other than his age, there wasn't anything that really jumped out at me.
"I am sorry...you are?"
"I am Chuck," he said. "I am an intern from Boston University."
"Oh. My husband graduated from there a million years ago." I laughed.
I thought it was strange to have an intern introduce himself to me. I was wondering what his end game was. Was he hitting on me?
"I know this might be inappropriate, but would you be interested in having dinner later," he said in a soft voice.
"Wow, he has balls," I thought.
"Do you always proposition women at the office? You probably didn't notice my diamond wedding ring -- news alert, I'm married," I responded.
He paused. Turns out, he was actually only 21 years old. I assumed that he didn't have a lot of experience asking older women out, especially married ones. I figured he'd get embarrassed and just walk away. And that would be the last time that I ever hear from him. I was wrong.
Chuck regrouped. "I wasn't hitting on you, I just thought it'd be nice to have some company tonight. I thought that I'd pick your brain about banking. You're really successful."
All my instincts told me to say no. This was going to be a date. But I decided to give Chuck the benefit of the doubt and agreed to have coffee or a drink with him.
We agreed to meet in the hotel bar, but I emphasized that I was not interested in having dinner or anything else. He seemed at the time to be okay with the arrangement.
I grabbed a cab back to my hotel. We agreed to meet around 6 PM. I got out of my business suit and put on jeans and a casual shirt. I also put on a pink, cashmere pullover sweater. I didn't put on any perfume or anymore makeup because this was not a date. This was my generous offer to steer him in the right direction. I kept telling myself that; trying to convince myself that this was not going to be another affair.
He showed up casually dressed. He looked like the typical college student in Boston. He even wore a Boston University varsity letterman jacket. This made him look young and me feel old.
"Do you play sports?" I inquired. I knew the answer-he was wearing a fucking varsity jacket for Christ's sake!
"Yes, I'm on the swim team. I dive. I've been a swimmer most of my life and in high school, I was in the state finals."
He seemed very proud of his swimming and the jacket for that matter. I didn't really consider swimming a sport. I considered it something that I did at the beach or at the pool. Suntanning wasn't a sport either.
If he's swimming every day, he must have a pretty good body under all those clothes. OK, swimming is a sport. Anyway, why should I care? It's not going to be a date.
"What would you like to know about banking? Are you studying Finance?"
"I'm an economics major. I'm a junior and I need to start thinking about what I'm going to do after college. I'm only an intern and at the end of the summer, I'm going to go back to school for my senior year."
It's been a few years since my husband really made love to me. I mean sex is sex. But making love is much more fulfilling. I just really wanted was a man to focus on my needs and not their own. I decided to redirect the conversation to things that were more personal and less about business.
"Do you have a lot of friends? Anyone special in your life?"
He made small talk about other students that he was friends with while making the point that he didn't have a girlfriend, or even anybody he was dating. I think he was trying to give me a hint.
I decided to be abrupt. "I'm going to make an observation here. You see me as an older, attractive woman, and made up this bullshit story that you were interested in banking. How am I doing so far?"
I think that threw him off guard. He looked more than a little bit uncomfortable. He forgot he was talking to an experienced 37-year-old woman and not one of his fellow students. He needed to regroup.
"OK you're right. You're very attractive and I have only had a few girlfriends. I am sorry about coming on to you. I'm sorry. Please don't tell my boss about this. If I see you tomorrow in the office, I won't even say good morning."
He stood up and extended his hand. It was almost like he made his pitch, didn't make the sale, and was moving on. The ball was in my court. I needed to take control.
"Sit down. Order us another drink and shut the fuck up."
He smiled. The game wasn't over yet for him. In his mind, he must've been thinking, "I got this." But did he?
I gulped my second drink. Drinking always lowered my inhibitions. It allowed me to compromise my values without actually feeling guilty. Terrible.
I started to fantasize what it would be like to fuck this 21-year-old almost virgin. The things that I could teach him. How much of a different experience it would be for him, as opposed to fucking some high school or college student? Teaching him how to go down on a woman. Having him experience what a real blowjob felt like.
"Let's have our next drink in my room. It's room number 327. Give me about 10 minutes and I'll meet you up there. "I smiled and left the bar.
I went into my room and cleaned up a few things. The mini bar had two small bottles of Jack Daniels. I grabbed the Jack and two cups and set them on the little table that was situated in front of the couch. I wanted to give the illusion it was just a drink. Call it "the surprise factor."
I took off my sweater and my shirt. Then, I removed my bra. My nipples were really hard. They were sensitive and I began pinching them while looking at myself in the mirror. I put my shirt back on without the bra. I knew if he saw my hard nipples protruding through my shirt then it would be game over.
There was a knock on the door. It was probably exactly 10 minutes since I left the bar. Chuck was likely waiting outside the door, looking at his watch.